CSI Fan Fiction - Dead Man's Party: The Ghost in the Machine Chapter Four
Title:Dead Man's Party: The Ghost in the Machine
Chapter: Four (of Four): Dead Again ( Chapter One) ( Chapter Two) ( Chapter Three)
Author: smilesinc aka WitchGirl
Fandom: CSI
Characters: Archie Johnson (Greg, Brass and Lab Rats make appearances)
Pairings: None
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Genre: Supernatural/Horror/Mystery
Time Line: This story is meant to take place in October of 2010, or the beginning of season 11. Tiny spoilers for "The Panty Sniffer," otherwise, none so much.
Warnings: Mild sexual content (prostitution), grave robbing, practical jokes, a plethora of 90s references, and an original character in a significant role.
Disclaimer: Own nothing, making no money.
Summary: [#2 in the Dead Man's Party Anthology of Horror] Archie receives strange and frightening messages and video on his computer. This spurs him to venture to a cemetery at night, to "dig up" a little evidence. But is Archie just digging his own grave?
Author's Note: Dead Man's Party is a CSI version of Tales from the Crypt, or The X-Files. They consist of short horror/supernatural stories starring our favorite CSIs, and each one can be read individually and stand completely on its own. Upcoming titles after The Ghost in the Machine and The Wendigo include Mother Dearest (Catherine), and Underneath (Grissom). Keep an eye out for them!
Chapter Four: Dead Again
At the lab, Archie sat at his computer and watched the tape, with Libby looking over his right shoulder and Greg Sanders watching on his left. The tape began, and Archie immediately recognized the scene he had seen on his computer. A girl, in what appeared to be a library, talking to a man he couldn't see… at first.
"What's your name?"
"Sunshine."
He laughed. "I see." He began to sing. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"
"And I can make you happy," she said.
"I'll bet you can." He touched her and she flinched. "What was that?"
"Sorry… Just new at this is all."
This seemed to excite him. "Ah. Fresh blood?"
"You could say that. So… how does this work, exactly?"
The video continued. And then, there was a perfect shot of Arnold Blake's face, with a less than flattering expression.. None of them seemed to know what to say.
Finally, Greg broke the silence. "It's really him."
"It's really him," Libby agreed.
"Arnold Blake…" Greg said, in disbelief. "Senator. Sheriff."
"Murderer," Libby supplied.
"God…" Greg muttered, shaking his head. "Turn it off." Archie obliged. "Where in the world did you find this?"
"Maya Talbot's house," said Archie.
"Yeah, but how did you know it was there?"
Archie gestured at the floppy disks and cassettes.
"We did a little detective work of our own," Libby said.
"OK…" Greg said. "What started this? I mean, 1994, Jane Doe… That's practically ancient history. What made you look into this?"
"Anonymous tip," Archie said.
"Some tip…" Greg muttered. He smiled. "Nice work. You ever think about making the switch to CSI?"
"Sometimes." "No." The answers came from Libby and Archie respectively at the same time.
Greg chuckled. "Why not, Archie? Afraid you could never get out of my admittedly awesome shadow?"
"Unlike some people in this lab, not to name any names - Wendy - I would prefer to be as little like you as possible," Archie replied.
Greg feigned injury. "That hurt, bro."
Brass appeared in the doorway, and the three of them looked up at him. He stared at the floor, looking worn. He rubbed his eyes with his hands.
"It's not going so well," he said. "Blake lawyered up the second we even contacted him."
Archie stood up, his expression set. "Let me talk to him."
Both Libby and Greg looked at him as if he were crazy. "Archie, don't…" Libby began.
"You sure that's a good idea, man?" Greg asked. "When's the last time you sat in on an interview?"
"Greg, you saw that tape," Archie said. "You saw he was a sleazebag. But you didn't hear her die. He didn't even say anything, he just grabbed her and banged her head against something. Twice." He looked at Libby. "You understand, don't you?"
She stopped, as if surprised he would ask. But, slowly, she nodded.
Greg looked at Brass. "What do you think?"
"Archie knows more about this case than any of us," Brass replied. "And I'll be in there with him."
"Me too," Libby said, resolutely.
Archie looked from Libby to Brass. "Agreed," he said.
***
At first, Libby opted to observe the interview through the glass. She said she'd come in when she felt it was right to do so. Archie followed Brass into the room and he felt a shiver when he saw Arnold Blake, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded. He was an older man, wish silver hair and broad shoulders and a formidable stare, which he focused on Archie.
"My client has nothing more to say to you," said the lawyer who sat beside him.
"We have evidence to suggest that your client killed Elizabeth French," Archie said.
"You mean the ramblings of a girl who may or may not be your victim and a few diary entries about my client?" the lawyer replied.
"And a tape of your client paying for sex from the victim," Brass replied.
"So my client hired an escort," the lawyer said, dismissively. "Even in the 90s, that wasn't illegal."
"It was when it was provided by an unlicensed service," Brass replied.
"Either way, it was a misdemeanor at best," said the lawyer.
"Maybe so," Archie said, "but it's definitely not one the Senator would want getting out to the public, is it, considering how hard he's fighting to make brothels illegal in Clark County again." He managed to look the monster in the eye. "Do you think that you would have ever gone anywhere with your political career if Elizabeth had sold that tape? You think you'd even have been able to keep your job as sheriff?"
Blake simply returned Archie's stare with his own.
"You forget that my client has served this district and this state faithfully for twenty-five years," the lawyer insisted. "And he knows how the law enforcement community works."
"So do we, unfortunately," Brass said. "Or, rather, we know how one can abuse it." He showed Blake a file. "This is Detective Miles Warren. He committed suicide in 1996. He was the one who investigated Elizabeth French's disappearance and the Jane Doe murder. He's the one that told the dean of the college that Elizabeth had dropped out of school, according to what the dean has told us. And his former partner, Jason Richter told us that he was very chummy with you, Senator. And he always seemed to have more money to burn than Jason ever did."
"Just what are you trying to imply?" the lawyer asked.
"That plot in the cemetery on West Dover was paid for by the state," Brass went on. "Miles Warren signed off on it. According to the priest, he was the only person present when she was interred. Maya Talbot says that she came home from class one day to find Elizabeth's half of the dorm room completely bare, and Warren stood in the middle of it, carrying a sports bag. Miles Warren took the evidence and, not knowing what else to do with it, buried it with Elizabeth French in a place he knew no one would ever find it. Her legal burial site. Shortly thereafter, Warren shelved the case."
"If that evidence was in the ground with the Jane Doe, who I'm still not convinced is Elizabeth French," the lawyer began, "then that means you disinterred her body. Do you have any papers justifying this drastic action?"
Archie went pale, but Brass had him covered when he confidently stated, "All evidence collection was done according to protocol. The evidence was discovered by a civilian, who turned it into the authorities as soon as he could. Any action that civilian took in procuring that evidence is not the responsibility of the LVPD, as he was acting outside of our purview."
"And just who is this good Samaritan that dug up this poor woman's grave?" the lawyer asked.
"You're lookin' at him," Archie said.
"He works for the crime lab," the lawyer noted.
"Not when he found that evidence, he wasn't," Brass replied. "Besides, Archie Johnson is a technician, with no training in the collection of evidence and no courses in legal protocol concerning that collection. He can't be held legally responsible." He leaned forward. "Now let's get back to the matter at hand, here. You, Senator Blake."
"My client has nothing to say," the lawyer said, leaning back in his chair.
"That's OK," said Brass with a smile. "He's still under arrest. Oh, and if you're not convinced our Jane Doe is Elizabeth French, that's fine, too. Maya Talbot provided a photo, which our facial recognition software will prove, without a doubt, matches the photos taken at the Jane Doe's crime scene. You don't have to believe it, and you don't have to talk, but you're still going to burn in hell."
"We'll let a trial decide that," the lawyer said.
The door opened, and Archie turned to see Libby walk in. He wasn't the only one who noticed. For the first time in the interview, Arnold Blake looked afraid. He seized his lawyer's arm, but still said nothing.
"What's wrong, Arnold?" the lawyer asked.
Blake's eyes didn't leave Libby, who just stared right back at him. And then, slowly, Libby smiled. She began to hum, softly but hauntingly, "You Are My Sunshine."
"No…" Blake breathed. Libby continued to hum.
Archie could tell that Blake was about to break. He turned on him. "You killed Elizabeth French in cold blood because she could expose the perverted bastard that you really are."
"Please don't take my sunshine away," Libby finished. "Ain't no sunshine where you're going, Senator."
"Who are you?" Blake demanded, then turned to Archie and Brass. "What are you trying to do, here?"
"I think his conscience is catching up with him," Libby told Archie. "Tell them about the girl, Arnold."
"What about the girl?" Archie asked the senator, who looked paler than snow.
"What girl?" Brass asked. "Elizabeth French?"
"No," Libby said. "The other one. Tell them about the other girl, Arnold. Where is she right now?"
"M-my basement," Blake breathed.
"Arnold, I strongly advise you to remain silent," the lawyer said.
"You have another girl in your basement?" Archie demanded. "Where? Buried under your wine cellar?"
"She's alive!" the senator insisted. "Maybe…"
"Maybe?" Brass asked. He pulled out his radio. "Dispatch, this is Captain Jim Brass, I need black and whites at the Arnold Blake estate. There's a girl in the basement there, probably in need of medical attention."
"Please," the senator insisted, reaching across the table to grab Archie's hands. "I'll tell you everything, just keep her away from me."
Archie looked at Libby and gestured for her to go. She smiled, mysteriously, then slipped out. Arnold Blake collapsed in his chair, and fell unconscious.
***
After the arrest, Archie went back to his lab and went through the video, trying to get a better understanding. If he looked closely, while Blake was having sex with her, he could see the revulsion in her eyes and etched in her brow. She must have hated every second of it, only tolerating it because she knew, she knew this would be the end of him. And she was right. Sixteen years later, she was right.
There was a knock at the door. Archie looked up and saw Greg standing there, looking impressed.
"They found the girl," Greg said. "She was tied up in his basement. Also an escort, who had gotten a little too assertive for Blake's tastes. She threatened to tell and he tied her up, used her as a sex slave for the past few days as she starved to death. If we'd gotten there even a day later, she'd probably be dead."
Archie smiled. "Maybe that explains why I got that lead now, after all these years."
"Yeah, about that…" Greg said, pulling up a chair next to Archie. "How'd it come in? And why did you get it, not a detective?"
"It was an instant message, actually," Archie explained. "I thought it was a joke at first… But I think she contacted me because she knew I'd understand Ellie." He looked at the video, which was still playing. "We had a lot in common, the least of which being our fondness for Ninja Turtles."
"How do you know your tipster was a woman, if it was in an IM?" Greg asked.
"I just do," Archie assured him.
Greg leaned back in his chair. "You think it was Maya Talbot?"
Archie was about to say no, but instead, he said, "Yeah, maybe." He looked at his computer, but saw no new messages. Nothing on his phone, either. Maybe Ellie's spirit was finally at rest.
"Why are you still watching this?" Greg asked, gesturing at the video.
Archie shrugged. "I'm not sure. Just trying to get to know her better, I guess."
"She's not exactly at her finest in this, though," Greg said.
"On the contrary," Archie returned. "I think it shows just how smart and dedicated she really was."
As Blake finished and threw some money at Ellie for a tip, he headed out the door. Ellie waited for him to leave, then ran straight to the camera. She looked right at the lens, smirked, and switched it off. The video crackled, and opened up onto something completely different. Archie's heart leapt into his throat.
It was Ellie and Maya, lying on a carpeted floor in their pajamas with spoons sticking out of their mouths as they made faces at the camera. They both burst out laughing. Ellie filmed Maya doing what seemed to be a ballet move, then stumbling, and Maya filmed Ellie on her computer, giving Maya and the camera a tour of the Internet.
"She was pretty, wasn't she?" Greg said. "Shame."
Archie realized he was seeing Elizabeth French for the first time. All other images of her had been distorted somehow. The morbid crime scene photos and the dark video had her wearing a brown wig, and the quality of the film made the comparison difficult to make for certain. But now that he saw her, in better lighting and out of costume, he could have sworn she was the spitting image of…
"Libby."
"What?" Greg asked.
"She looks exactly like Libby."
Greg turned and gave him a peculiar look. "Libby who?"
Archie stopped and turned to look at Greg. "Libby," he reiterated. "You know. Early twenties, blonde, fingerprint tech?"
Greg raised an eyebrow.
Archie wouldn't relent. "Come on! She's filling in for Mandy! You saw her!"
"Are you sure?" Greg asked.
"You talked to her…" But then, he thought back. "Wait… didn't you?"
"What's she like?" Greg asked.
"Funny…" Archie whispered. "And kind of a throw-back. She talks like Mary-Jane Watson meets Alicia Silverstone. Calls the internet 'the net,' use phrases like 'As if!' and all her pop culture references are pre-nineteen-ninety…" He trailed off, his breath catching in his throat. He swallowed. "1994."
Greg shrugged. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."
"She said she spent a lot of time in her dorm on the internet in '94…"
"Well, then she can't be twenty," Greg said. "She's gotta be at least…"
"In her mid-thirties…" Archie mumbled.
"Yeah," Greg said. "At least." He looked at the video. "She must look pretty damn good for her age. You should ask her out."
Archie suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Libby since the interrogation room with Arnold Blake. He remembered the Senator's reaction.
"Wait," Archie said, laughing. "OK, you saw the interview with Blake, right?"
"Yeah," Greg said.
"You remember his reaction when he saw Libby? He freaked! Insisted I keep her away… from… him…" Greg was slowly shaking his head.
"Archie…" he began, slowly, now sounding concerned. "There was no girl in that interview room."
Archie was suddenly very cold. He looked out the window, towards the fingerprint lab, and saw Jacqui, working diligently as ever. She even looked up and waved when Mandy came in. When did Mandy get back?
"Look, I think you've been working too hard," Greg said, getting up and patting Archie on the back. "Go home, get some sleep, take it easy. You've earned it."
As Greg left, Archie came to the conclusion that he was right. It had been a very long night that had turned into a very long day, and he was more than ready to go home. As he headed down towards the garage, his phone beeped and vibrated, so he took it out of his pocket to check what it wanted. Even though his phone said he had no signal, there was a single text message in his inbox, plain as day.
Ellie and Libby are both short for Elizabeth, you dolt. Thanks a lot, Archie. You were great.
Archie couldn't help but smile, despite the goose bumps springing up all over his skin.
THE END
Author's Note: So there you have it. Cheesy, and predictable from the beginning, but this IS a series based on urban legends after all, so what did you expect? This wasn't as popular as the last Dead Man's Party story, but that hasn't deterred me from writing two more installments starring Catherine (Mother Dearest) and Grissom (Underneath). If interested in either of these, please drop me a line and let me know. Also, every chapter in this story was named after a movie that was released before 1995. In case you were wondering. IMDB them if you want more information.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
Dead Man's Party: The Wendigo
Chapter: Four (of Four): Dead Again ( Chapter One) ( Chapter Two) ( Chapter Three)
Author: smilesinc aka WitchGirl
Fandom: CSI
Characters: Archie Johnson (Greg, Brass and Lab Rats make appearances)
Pairings: None
Rating: Teen/PG-13
Genre: Supernatural/Horror/Mystery
Time Line: This story is meant to take place in October of 2010, or the beginning of season 11. Tiny spoilers for "The Panty Sniffer," otherwise, none so much.
Warnings: Mild sexual content (prostitution), grave robbing, practical jokes, a plethora of 90s references, and an original character in a significant role.
Disclaimer: Own nothing, making no money.
Summary: [#2 in the Dead Man's Party Anthology of Horror] Archie receives strange and frightening messages and video on his computer. This spurs him to venture to a cemetery at night, to "dig up" a little evidence. But is Archie just digging his own grave?
Author's Note: Dead Man's Party is a CSI version of Tales from the Crypt, or The X-Files. They consist of short horror/supernatural stories starring our favorite CSIs, and each one can be read individually and stand completely on its own. Upcoming titles after The Ghost in the Machine and The Wendigo include Mother Dearest (Catherine), and Underneath (Grissom). Keep an eye out for them!
Chapter Four: Dead Again
At the lab, Archie sat at his computer and watched the tape, with Libby looking over his right shoulder and Greg Sanders watching on his left. The tape began, and Archie immediately recognized the scene he had seen on his computer. A girl, in what appeared to be a library, talking to a man he couldn't see… at first.
"What's your name?"
"Sunshine."
He laughed. "I see." He began to sing. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…"
"And I can make you happy," she said.
"I'll bet you can." He touched her and she flinched. "What was that?"
"Sorry… Just new at this is all."
This seemed to excite him. "Ah. Fresh blood?"
"You could say that. So… how does this work, exactly?"
The video continued. And then, there was a perfect shot of Arnold Blake's face, with a less than flattering expression.. None of them seemed to know what to say.
Finally, Greg broke the silence. "It's really him."
"It's really him," Libby agreed.
"Arnold Blake…" Greg said, in disbelief. "Senator. Sheriff."
"Murderer," Libby supplied.
"God…" Greg muttered, shaking his head. "Turn it off." Archie obliged. "Where in the world did you find this?"
"Maya Talbot's house," said Archie.
"Yeah, but how did you know it was there?"
Archie gestured at the floppy disks and cassettes.
"We did a little detective work of our own," Libby said.
"OK…" Greg said. "What started this? I mean, 1994, Jane Doe… That's practically ancient history. What made you look into this?"
"Anonymous tip," Archie said.
"Some tip…" Greg muttered. He smiled. "Nice work. You ever think about making the switch to CSI?"
"Sometimes." "No." The answers came from Libby and Archie respectively at the same time.
Greg chuckled. "Why not, Archie? Afraid you could never get out of my admittedly awesome shadow?"
"Unlike some people in this lab, not to name any names - Wendy - I would prefer to be as little like you as possible," Archie replied.
Greg feigned injury. "That hurt, bro."
Brass appeared in the doorway, and the three of them looked up at him. He stared at the floor, looking worn. He rubbed his eyes with his hands.
"It's not going so well," he said. "Blake lawyered up the second we even contacted him."
Archie stood up, his expression set. "Let me talk to him."
Both Libby and Greg looked at him as if he were crazy. "Archie, don't…" Libby began.
"You sure that's a good idea, man?" Greg asked. "When's the last time you sat in on an interview?"
"Greg, you saw that tape," Archie said. "You saw he was a sleazebag. But you didn't hear her die. He didn't even say anything, he just grabbed her and banged her head against something. Twice." He looked at Libby. "You understand, don't you?"
She stopped, as if surprised he would ask. But, slowly, she nodded.
Greg looked at Brass. "What do you think?"
"Archie knows more about this case than any of us," Brass replied. "And I'll be in there with him."
"Me too," Libby said, resolutely.
Archie looked from Libby to Brass. "Agreed," he said.
***
At first, Libby opted to observe the interview through the glass. She said she'd come in when she felt it was right to do so. Archie followed Brass into the room and he felt a shiver when he saw Arnold Blake, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded. He was an older man, wish silver hair and broad shoulders and a formidable stare, which he focused on Archie.
"My client has nothing more to say to you," said the lawyer who sat beside him.
"We have evidence to suggest that your client killed Elizabeth French," Archie said.
"You mean the ramblings of a girl who may or may not be your victim and a few diary entries about my client?" the lawyer replied.
"And a tape of your client paying for sex from the victim," Brass replied.
"So my client hired an escort," the lawyer said, dismissively. "Even in the 90s, that wasn't illegal."
"It was when it was provided by an unlicensed service," Brass replied.
"Either way, it was a misdemeanor at best," said the lawyer.
"Maybe so," Archie said, "but it's definitely not one the Senator would want getting out to the public, is it, considering how hard he's fighting to make brothels illegal in Clark County again." He managed to look the monster in the eye. "Do you think that you would have ever gone anywhere with your political career if Elizabeth had sold that tape? You think you'd even have been able to keep your job as sheriff?"
Blake simply returned Archie's stare with his own.
"You forget that my client has served this district and this state faithfully for twenty-five years," the lawyer insisted. "And he knows how the law enforcement community works."
"So do we, unfortunately," Brass said. "Or, rather, we know how one can abuse it." He showed Blake a file. "This is Detective Miles Warren. He committed suicide in 1996. He was the one who investigated Elizabeth French's disappearance and the Jane Doe murder. He's the one that told the dean of the college that Elizabeth had dropped out of school, according to what the dean has told us. And his former partner, Jason Richter told us that he was very chummy with you, Senator. And he always seemed to have more money to burn than Jason ever did."
"Just what are you trying to imply?" the lawyer asked.
"That plot in the cemetery on West Dover was paid for by the state," Brass went on. "Miles Warren signed off on it. According to the priest, he was the only person present when she was interred. Maya Talbot says that she came home from class one day to find Elizabeth's half of the dorm room completely bare, and Warren stood in the middle of it, carrying a sports bag. Miles Warren took the evidence and, not knowing what else to do with it, buried it with Elizabeth French in a place he knew no one would ever find it. Her legal burial site. Shortly thereafter, Warren shelved the case."
"If that evidence was in the ground with the Jane Doe, who I'm still not convinced is Elizabeth French," the lawyer began, "then that means you disinterred her body. Do you have any papers justifying this drastic action?"
Archie went pale, but Brass had him covered when he confidently stated, "All evidence collection was done according to protocol. The evidence was discovered by a civilian, who turned it into the authorities as soon as he could. Any action that civilian took in procuring that evidence is not the responsibility of the LVPD, as he was acting outside of our purview."
"And just who is this good Samaritan that dug up this poor woman's grave?" the lawyer asked.
"You're lookin' at him," Archie said.
"He works for the crime lab," the lawyer noted.
"Not when he found that evidence, he wasn't," Brass replied. "Besides, Archie Johnson is a technician, with no training in the collection of evidence and no courses in legal protocol concerning that collection. He can't be held legally responsible." He leaned forward. "Now let's get back to the matter at hand, here. You, Senator Blake."
"My client has nothing to say," the lawyer said, leaning back in his chair.
"That's OK," said Brass with a smile. "He's still under arrest. Oh, and if you're not convinced our Jane Doe is Elizabeth French, that's fine, too. Maya Talbot provided a photo, which our facial recognition software will prove, without a doubt, matches the photos taken at the Jane Doe's crime scene. You don't have to believe it, and you don't have to talk, but you're still going to burn in hell."
"We'll let a trial decide that," the lawyer said.
The door opened, and Archie turned to see Libby walk in. He wasn't the only one who noticed. For the first time in the interview, Arnold Blake looked afraid. He seized his lawyer's arm, but still said nothing.
"What's wrong, Arnold?" the lawyer asked.
Blake's eyes didn't leave Libby, who just stared right back at him. And then, slowly, Libby smiled. She began to hum, softly but hauntingly, "You Are My Sunshine."
"No…" Blake breathed. Libby continued to hum.
Archie could tell that Blake was about to break. He turned on him. "You killed Elizabeth French in cold blood because she could expose the perverted bastard that you really are."
"Please don't take my sunshine away," Libby finished. "Ain't no sunshine where you're going, Senator."
"Who are you?" Blake demanded, then turned to Archie and Brass. "What are you trying to do, here?"
"I think his conscience is catching up with him," Libby told Archie. "Tell them about the girl, Arnold."
"What about the girl?" Archie asked the senator, who looked paler than snow.
"What girl?" Brass asked. "Elizabeth French?"
"No," Libby said. "The other one. Tell them about the other girl, Arnold. Where is she right now?"
"M-my basement," Blake breathed.
"Arnold, I strongly advise you to remain silent," the lawyer said.
"You have another girl in your basement?" Archie demanded. "Where? Buried under your wine cellar?"
"She's alive!" the senator insisted. "Maybe…"
"Maybe?" Brass asked. He pulled out his radio. "Dispatch, this is Captain Jim Brass, I need black and whites at the Arnold Blake estate. There's a girl in the basement there, probably in need of medical attention."
"Please," the senator insisted, reaching across the table to grab Archie's hands. "I'll tell you everything, just keep her away from me."
Archie looked at Libby and gestured for her to go. She smiled, mysteriously, then slipped out. Arnold Blake collapsed in his chair, and fell unconscious.
***
After the arrest, Archie went back to his lab and went through the video, trying to get a better understanding. If he looked closely, while Blake was having sex with her, he could see the revulsion in her eyes and etched in her brow. She must have hated every second of it, only tolerating it because she knew, she knew this would be the end of him. And she was right. Sixteen years later, she was right.
There was a knock at the door. Archie looked up and saw Greg standing there, looking impressed.
"They found the girl," Greg said. "She was tied up in his basement. Also an escort, who had gotten a little too assertive for Blake's tastes. She threatened to tell and he tied her up, used her as a sex slave for the past few days as she starved to death. If we'd gotten there even a day later, she'd probably be dead."
Archie smiled. "Maybe that explains why I got that lead now, after all these years."
"Yeah, about that…" Greg said, pulling up a chair next to Archie. "How'd it come in? And why did you get it, not a detective?"
"It was an instant message, actually," Archie explained. "I thought it was a joke at first… But I think she contacted me because she knew I'd understand Ellie." He looked at the video, which was still playing. "We had a lot in common, the least of which being our fondness for Ninja Turtles."
"How do you know your tipster was a woman, if it was in an IM?" Greg asked.
"I just do," Archie assured him.
Greg leaned back in his chair. "You think it was Maya Talbot?"
Archie was about to say no, but instead, he said, "Yeah, maybe." He looked at his computer, but saw no new messages. Nothing on his phone, either. Maybe Ellie's spirit was finally at rest.
"Why are you still watching this?" Greg asked, gesturing at the video.
Archie shrugged. "I'm not sure. Just trying to get to know her better, I guess."
"She's not exactly at her finest in this, though," Greg said.
"On the contrary," Archie returned. "I think it shows just how smart and dedicated she really was."
As Blake finished and threw some money at Ellie for a tip, he headed out the door. Ellie waited for him to leave, then ran straight to the camera. She looked right at the lens, smirked, and switched it off. The video crackled, and opened up onto something completely different. Archie's heart leapt into his throat.
It was Ellie and Maya, lying on a carpeted floor in their pajamas with spoons sticking out of their mouths as they made faces at the camera. They both burst out laughing. Ellie filmed Maya doing what seemed to be a ballet move, then stumbling, and Maya filmed Ellie on her computer, giving Maya and the camera a tour of the Internet.
"She was pretty, wasn't she?" Greg said. "Shame."
Archie realized he was seeing Elizabeth French for the first time. All other images of her had been distorted somehow. The morbid crime scene photos and the dark video had her wearing a brown wig, and the quality of the film made the comparison difficult to make for certain. But now that he saw her, in better lighting and out of costume, he could have sworn she was the spitting image of…
"Libby."
"What?" Greg asked.
"She looks exactly like Libby."
Greg turned and gave him a peculiar look. "Libby who?"
Archie stopped and turned to look at Greg. "Libby," he reiterated. "You know. Early twenties, blonde, fingerprint tech?"
Greg raised an eyebrow.
Archie wouldn't relent. "Come on! She's filling in for Mandy! You saw her!"
"Are you sure?" Greg asked.
"You talked to her…" But then, he thought back. "Wait… didn't you?"
"What's she like?" Greg asked.
"Funny…" Archie whispered. "And kind of a throw-back. She talks like Mary-Jane Watson meets Alicia Silverstone. Calls the internet 'the net,' use phrases like 'As if!' and all her pop culture references are pre-nineteen-ninety…" He trailed off, his breath catching in his throat. He swallowed. "1994."
Greg shrugged. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."
"She said she spent a lot of time in her dorm on the internet in '94…"
"Well, then she can't be twenty," Greg said. "She's gotta be at least…"
"In her mid-thirties…" Archie mumbled.
"Yeah," Greg said. "At least." He looked at the video. "She must look pretty damn good for her age. You should ask her out."
Archie suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Libby since the interrogation room with Arnold Blake. He remembered the Senator's reaction.
"Wait," Archie said, laughing. "OK, you saw the interview with Blake, right?"
"Yeah," Greg said.
"You remember his reaction when he saw Libby? He freaked! Insisted I keep her away… from… him…" Greg was slowly shaking his head.
"Archie…" he began, slowly, now sounding concerned. "There was no girl in that interview room."
Archie was suddenly very cold. He looked out the window, towards the fingerprint lab, and saw Jacqui, working diligently as ever. She even looked up and waved when Mandy came in. When did Mandy get back?
"Look, I think you've been working too hard," Greg said, getting up and patting Archie on the back. "Go home, get some sleep, take it easy. You've earned it."
As Greg left, Archie came to the conclusion that he was right. It had been a very long night that had turned into a very long day, and he was more than ready to go home. As he headed down towards the garage, his phone beeped and vibrated, so he took it out of his pocket to check what it wanted. Even though his phone said he had no signal, there was a single text message in his inbox, plain as day.
Ellie and Libby are both short for Elizabeth, you dolt. Thanks a lot, Archie. You were great.
Archie couldn't help but smile, despite the goose bumps springing up all over his skin.
THE END
Author's Note: So there you have it. Cheesy, and predictable from the beginning, but this IS a series based on urban legends after all, so what did you expect? This wasn't as popular as the last Dead Man's Party story, but that hasn't deterred me from writing two more installments starring Catherine (Mother Dearest) and Grissom (Underneath). If interested in either of these, please drop me a line and let me know. Also, every chapter in this story was named after a movie that was released before 1995. In case you were wondering. IMDB them if you want more information.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
Dead Man's Party: The Wendigo