"What do you mean, no one's seen them?" Simon Banks shouted at his two detectives, "Who was the last one to see or talk to them?"

"That would be us, Sir. I took them up to where we found the bear, picked up Sandburg and left to take the bear to the vet's. No one has seen or heard from them since. The patrol that was sent up to look for them didn't see anything. And, since Cassie's van was missing, we all assumed that she had gone back for it to transport the dog. We're going to go back up there, Sir and do a search of our own." Jim was standing at 'parade rest'; he was feeling guilty over their missing the boat on this one, just as much, if not more, than Simon was.

"Good idea. You make sure you keep in touch, you hear me?"

"Yes, Sir. We'll call in when we arrive at the scene, and let you know what we find."

"Good. Dismissed." Jim and Blair turned on their heels and left.

"This is where we picked up Gregori, right?" Blair asked as they drove slowly up the road they'd been on just two days earlier.

"Yeah. And the rock outcropping is just up ahead, there," Jim replied as he pulled over and parked. Both men got cautiously out of the truck.

"Do you see any sign of the patrol car having come this far?"

"No. They turned around about a hundred yards back. You can see where they crushed the brush beside the road."

"Ouch. I'm sure glad I'm not one of them, when Simon gets through with them."

"Yeah, and that will be after their sergeant, lieutenant, and captain get through with them."

"Triple ouch."

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Any sign of Cassie's van?"

"No. But there are some tire tracks, from something small, a compact, see there?" Jim pointed to some tire tracks faintly visible on the shoulder.

"How about footprints?"

Jim looked around, "No. Nothing. C'mon, let's go." He led the way down the slope to the rock outcropping where they had found the injured bear.

Silence. Not one, single, sound. No breeze, no insects, no birds. Something was very wrong, here, and both men felt it. Jim led them in a wide circle, hoping for some kind of sign, but fearing what they might find. Finally, they approached the cave. Looking in first, Jim grunted "Call for an ambulance!" and rushed inside. There, tied up in the rear of the cave, were their missing forensics people. Two of them with wide, staring, terrified eyes focused on him, the third... eyes closed, pale... and not breathing. All three showed the obvious signs of having been attacked by dogs. Pausing only a moment to determine that the one victim was dead and not just unconscious, Jim realized that they had been trapped there for nearly two days, with no food, no water, and, in the case of the late Cassie Wells, no medication...

Turning from the body, Jim hastily worked at the ropes, trying to untie them. He was interrupted when Blair tapped his shoulder and offered his open pocket knife. Jim nodded and started sawing at the ropes holding the two remaining victims. Blair gently removed the duct tape gags from their mouths.

"Oh, Blair!" Sam cried, flinging herself past Jim and into the younger man's arms, sobbing. "It was terrible! They...they..." she was at a loss for words and simply dissolved into tears, clinging tightly to Blair's jacket.

"Get her out of here, Chief. I'll take care of Charlie," Jim said as he continued working on the other survivor's bonds.

"Right, Jim. Come on, Sam. Let's get you out of here, okay?" Blair gently guided the hysterical woman out of the cave and into the fresh air.

Jim had to help Charlie to stand. "Can you tell me what happened?" Charlie tried to speak, but his throat was too dry to get any words out. "Take it easy. I've got some water up in the truck." Jim guided the tech out of the cave and got him fairly comfortably seated on a nearby rock. "I'll be right back, Chief. I'm going up to the truck to get the first aid kit, some water, and blankets."

"You need any help?" Blair called hopefully, still trying to calm the hysterical Sam.

"I've got it. Did you make the call?"

"Yep, I called Simon, he's sending paramedics, an ambulance, and Dan... She's really dead, isn't she?"

"Yeah. My guess is she had one of those asthma attacks and, since she couldn't get her medicine, she, well..."

"Yeah. That sucks, man."

Even though he hadn't particularly cared for Cassie, he hadn't wanted her dead, "Yeah, it does," Jim agreed, turning to continue his trip to the truck for the supplies.

Once Jim had returned with the first aid kit, water, and blankets, Charlie was able to tell them what had happened. Sam remained hysterical, clinging tightly to Blair, which made tending her wounds much more difficult.

"We were looking at the dead dog, when, from out of nowhere, there were these three huge Rottweilers. I guess Cassie was armed, because she suddenly had this gun in her hand, but before she could shoot, one of the dogs grabbed her wrist and she dropped it. Then they just started biting, no noise, no barking, no growling, nothing. Just biting. I ended up in the back corner, pressed against the rocks, when the dogs suddenly stopped. I saw them. There were two of them, a man and a woman. They never said a word, just tied us up, went through our pockets, checked our ID, took something from Cassie's purse, picked up the dead dog and left. It was so weird, they never said a single word. Not one." Having gotten that much out, Charlie fell silent, shivering and in shock.

"Can you identify them if you see them again?" Jim asked softly.

"I'll never forget them. I've never seen anything so... so evil in my life. I got the feeling that they were going to come back for us. And that when they did, it was going to be even worse, what they did to us."

"Thanks, Charlie. I'll have a sketch artist come to the hospital so you can give him a description, okay?"

"Sure, detective. That'll be fine. Poor Cassie. After they left us, she had an asthma attack. There was nothing any of us could do. She-she died about an hour after they left us. Poor Sam, with Cassie leaning up against her all this time, I'm not at all surprised she's hysterical. I'm feeling a bit hysterical, myself."

"It's all right, Charlie. There was nothing you could do." The look Jim gave Blair told volumes of what he had in mind for the two patrolmen who had shirked their duty. Cassie might still be alive and their suspects in custody already, if they had done their job properly. Jim stood up, hearing the approaching sirens, and went up to direct the rescue efforts.

"Boy, he wasn't kidding about evil looking," Blair muttered as he looked over Jim's elbow at the two drawings the artist had just given them. Simon looked over Jim's other shoulder.

"Why do they look familiar?" he asked, his brow furrowed down in a scowl.

"Because they were on the news last week. Inviting people to come join them for Halloween. They're self-proclaimed Satanists and planning some big to-do for Halloween. But that's not for a couple more weeks, isn't it?"

"Yeah, first we get Friday the thirteenth... Jim?" There was something in Blair's voice that immediately brought both older men's attention to him.

"What is it, Blair?" Jim asked.

"Friday the thirteenth, there's a full moon on Friday the thirteenth. It's not a particularly important thing, but with all the media hype and movies about it, well... if I were some sort of self-styled satanist, well, I'd sure be tempted to do something."

"It's only Monday, Sandburg. If we hadn't found them, they'd have all died by then, from thirst, if nothing else," Simon said, dismissively.

"What if they plan on coming back, say, tonight or tomorrow? The police presence would be gone by then, and the circus is leaving this afternoon." Jim mused.

"You want to stake out the rocks?" Simon's voice rose in amazement.

"Yeah, I think I do, Sir. What do we have to lose?"

Simon stared at the partners, seeing nearly identical expressions of determination on their faces. He sighed and nodded.

"All right. Who do you want to join you on this little jaunt?"

"Well, Brown and Rafe are in court all week, and Joel and Megan are catching the rest of the cases from over the weekend. Maybe we can draw some help from patrol?" Jim replied.

"I think Doug Roberts would like to help. After all, he was there at the beginning. I know that I'd want to know," Blair suggested.

"All right. I'll see about pulling a couple of folks from patrol. What about the dogs? You won't hear them coming... well, most people won't be able to tell they're coming. How about getting a canine unit up there, as well?"

"Sounds good, Sir," Jim agreed. "If someone can make the calls to get it together, I'd like to gather some supplies that may help us with the dogs."

"I can make the calls, unless you need me, Jim?"

"That'll be fine, Chief. Providing our illustrious captain, here, will pave the way through the higher-ups?"

"Yeah, I'll make the calls. C'mon, Sandburg, let's get this over with. You really think they'll be coming back?"

"Sure, Simon. I mean, why not? They wouldn't have had any way of knowing about Cassie's asthma, and it was fairly warm last night, and the cave is good shelter. In fact..." Jim tuned out their voices as they headed for Simon's office and he headed for the door, needing to hit a grocery store before they headed back up to set up their stakeout.

There were six of them, counting the dog. Jim, Blair, Doug Roberts, John Jackson and his dog, Astro, and Don Kimbrough, another patrolman Roberts had suggested. The two patrolmen who had shirked their duty on Saturday were on suspension, pending a full investigation and possible charges of involuntary manslaughter. The DA's office was very interested in pursuing this particular case, particularly when they heard who the two patrolmen were, both had numerous complaints of excessive force and even other members of patrol didn't much care for them. The case against them was bolstered by the fact that Charlie had heard their car, but had been too far away, even if he hadn't been gagged.

Jim and Blair were hiding in the cave, waiting for their suspects. They were in radio contact with the others, Jackson was set up on the road with Astro, Roberts was atop the outcropping, and Kimbrough was with their vehicles, hidden down the road. All were in radio contact, via headphones and voice activated microphones.

"So, what was it that you needed to get that will protect us from the dogs?" Blair asked.

Jim grinned and pulled a brown bag from his coat pocket. Reaching inside, he pulled out two eight ounce tins of finely ground black pepper. Opening one, he started sprinkling it around the outside of the cave, starting about six feet from the opening. He was quite liberal with his use, even though it made both men sneeze.

"This is why Jackson and Astro are up on the road. I don't want Astro to get any of this in his nose. I'm hoping it will mask our scents, screw up the Rottweiler's senses, and give us the opportunity to get the drop on our suspects."

Jackson' voice came over their headsets, "Astro and I thank you."

"Hey, you're on our side, man," Blair replied and grinned. "Yeah, that might work, providing neither of us give it away by sneezing our heads off."

"That's why we're here so early. Get the stuff on the ground, so it can settle." He finished emptying the first can and started on the second one from just inside the cave mouth to the line where he'd run out with the first can.

Finished, they settled down inside the cave to wait. The early evening passed quietly, the sunset invisible to them through the trees. They kept their communications to a minimum, checking with one another once an hour. It was a very boring stakeout.

Along about one a.m., their patience was finally rewarded. "Heads up," Kimbrough announced from his spot with their vehicles. "A big van just passed me."

"Roger that." Jim replied, rising to his feet and pulling his partner up beside him.

Five minutes later, Jackson announced, "It's Cassie's van. They've parked and are getting out. There's two of them. They've got the dogs in the back, but are leaving them there. A man and a woman, on their way towards you."

"Got it. Doug? You ready?"

"I was born ready, man. Bring 'em on," came the soft reply.

With the dogs locked in the van, they didn't expect much trouble apprehending their suspects. Unfortunately, the pair were each carrying a large battery powered spotlight. Seeing the reflection of the bright lights headed their way, Blair hissed a warning to Jim just before the lights were focused through the mouth of the cave. Seeing two strange men, rather than the two women and one man they'd left tied up there, there was a moment of colorful cursing before the pair turned to run.

"CASCADE PD!" Roberts shouted from above. The pair looked up, startled, giving Jim and Blair time to recover and exit the cave, grabbing the pair and spinning them around and against the rocks.

"Feet back and spread 'em," Jim growled to the man, trusting his partner to take care of the smaller woman. He had the man's right wrist in a come-along hold and pinned him to the rocks, forcing him to maintain his balance with only one hand on the stones. Kicking the man's feet back and apart, he finally let go, allowing the man both hands to lean on.

Blair didn't have an easy time of it. The woman started fighting, trying to escape. Blair, still suffering from an upbringing that didn't include hitting girls, finally had enough and caught one of her wrists as she attempted to claw his eyes out. Squeezing and applying pressure, he forced her to her knees, her snarls of rage turning to cries of pain. Using his hold, he forced her face down on the ground and pulled both of her hands behind her back and cuffed her. Now that she was restrained, he took his time to look over at Jim, who was cuffing the other suspect.

Now that the suspects were under control, Roberts climbed down from his perch atop the boulders. Seeing the marks on Sandburg, he grinned, "Nice work, man." Blair looked up at him and grinned back.

"Hey, whatever it takes." He pulled the woman up and frisked her quickly and efficiently, relieving her of a petite little pistol. "It's... pink?" Blair said, shocked. "Jim? She has a pink gun.

Jim glanced over and grunted, holding out his prisoner's weapon, a nice, large, Glock. Handing the weapon to Roberts to tag, he smiled. "Pink, huh?" He saw the scratches on Blair's face, "Too bad she doesn't have the manners of a lady to go with the gun. You okay?"

"Yeah, just a couple scratches."

Jim nodded and spoke into his microphone, "Kimbrough? We could use transport. Jackson? Can you secure the van and the dogs? If not, give Animal Control a call. We're coming up, now."

With Roberts assistance, they escorted their prisoners up to the road. Once there, with all of them together, he recited the Miranda to the pair. When he asked them if they understood, the man finally spoke.

"You have nothing on us. You've made a very serious mistake, you know."

"Do you understand your rights as I've explained them to you?"

"Yes, yes. Of course," the man said, the woman only nodded.

"Do you give up your right to remain silent?" Jim asked.

"I've done nothing wrong," the man insisted.

"The three people you left tied up in that cave?" Blair asked, the man turned his piercing black eyes on him and inclined his head for him to continue. "One of them was an asthmatic. She died. Since it was in the course of a felony, kidnapping, the charges have been bumped up to murder." The man showed no reaction, but the woman stiffened. "Of course, we're also going to charge you with the murder of the man found at the circus."

"The bear killed him," the woman hissed.

Jim turned his attention to her, his glare causing her to flinch back. "The bear didn't do anything but run from your dogs. The 'claw' marks on the victim were made with a club, and the bites were made by your dogs. Now that we have the dogs, I'm sure our coroner can match the bite-marks." His grin was grim, "Now, I hate repeating myself, but do you give up your right to remain silent?" Looking at each other, the pair clamped their mouths shut and shook their heads.

Roberts and Kimbrough placed the prisoners in the back of their patrol car and began the drive back to the station and booking. Jackson had been unable to do anything with the dogs, and would remain with the van until animal control arrived. Jim and Blair hiked back to the vehicles and Jim followed as Blair took Jackson's SUV up to him.

As they drove back to the station, Blair was fuming. "We still don't have any idea why they did this. Do you really think they had anything to do with those mutilations in Diablo?"

"Did you notice their ID?" Jim replied.

"Uh, no. I didn't look beyond their names, why?"

"They live in Diablo. They have a little cult compound there. A couple dozen followers. I guess they just decided to go from animals to humans. I'm curious as to who our John Doe is, though."

"Yeah. You don't suppose they brought him all the way from Diablo to here, do you?"

"The circus was in Diablo three weeks ago. Come to think of it, that's the last time that 'buyer' contacted the circus," Jim mused.

When they arrived at the station, they immediately went down to booking to see how it was progressing. The woman had screamed about not wanting her picture taken, but to no avail. Of the two, she certainly seemed the one most likely to break. The pair were separated and placed in different interrogation rooms and left there with no contact. They could have just as well left them down in different jail cells, but didn't really want them in with the general population. Instead, they were being closely watched. The man, according to his ID, and the news report that had been aired the previous week, was Sam Haidi, a name that caused Blair to snort, trying to refrain from laughing.

"What?" Jim asked.

"Sam Haidi? I wonder what his original name was?"

"Why?" Jim's brows furrowed down in confusion.

"In Vodun, or Voodoo, Baron Samadi is like the guy who makes the zombies."

"What's a bartender have to do with this?"

"No, jerk." Blair slapped his grinning partner's arm, "He's like Death, or something. And it's the undead kind of zombies, not the drink."

Jim chuckled, "I actually knew that, I was just trying to place it. What about her name?"

"Mary Levau? Ripoff on Marie LaBeau, a so-called witch from the late 1800s. Fakes, if you ask me. Not very clever ones, either. Do we have anything else on them, yet?"

"Nah. We've faxed their prints to NCIC and Interpol, but it's too soon to tell. So, should we question them now, or wait until after we've gotten some sleep? Simon should be in in a couple of hours. We can probably sack out in his office until then."

"Good idea, man. I'm really wiped."

"How're the scratches? Did you get someone to look at them?"

"Yeah, they're okay. Should we leave them there? I mean, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it'll be fine. We aren't interrogating them. We're just waiting for their lawyer, anyway. He's got to come all the way from Diablo, so it's going to be a while, yet." With one last look in on their two prisoners, they headed upstairs to try and catch an hour or so of sleep before they had to start again.