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Finding Kagome	By : MetsukiKaraTen Category: InuYasha > Het - Male/Female > InuYasha/Kagome Views: 8806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
DISCLAIMER: I do not own InuYasha and company, however I
DO own an overactive imagination...

Finding
Kagome

Chapter
Twenty

There
was fog moving inland, and as the twilight grew dimmer Sally watched
it spill over the westerly hills in slow motion, like foam from a
too quickly poured beer. Switching on her fog lamps, she settled in
for close watch of the road, as she sped north on Highway
101. She glanced into the rear view mirror at her own reflection.
Who the hell is that?? It
was the likeness of some other woman who's pale
features contrasted sharply with the midnight blue of her uniform, a
woman who's eyes were mirrors to the gates of hell.

To
hell with this... She shook
herself, then reached down and flipped on the stereo system, cranking
up the volume.

She
just didn't have the heart to relay the news over the phone, it had
to be done in person. The destruction was so complete, the entire
place had been trashed. She had told her superiors that she would
conduct the initial interview with the victim, and fax it into
headquarters. That was the only way she was able to get away, and
avoid the inevitably impersonal phone call being made to Kagome to
inform her of the break in. Who would do this to her?? Everyone
loves Kagome...

And
what the hell was that smell?

On her return with forensics, it was like the place had
been bombed with teargas.

It
was supposed to be a quick stop to pick up her shamisen before making
the drive up the retreat. She had seen that the living room window
was broken as she got out of her car, and something just didn't feel
right as she climbed the stairs. The building was too quiet, for one
thing. It was a old converted Victorian with 5 units, and it seemed
as though no one was there. Then she saw the door, broken . . . no
not just broken . . . splintered.

She
had done a quick walk through, before picking up her instrument,
which lay with a broken neck across the living room from where she
had left it propped against the end of the couch. There wasn't much
of a couch left, now. The cushions had been literally shredded, with
the padding and foam tossed everywhere around the room, leaving bare
springs and the wooden skeleton of the thing peeking through the
upholstery. The multitude of decorative little pillows had suffered
the same fate. She found pieces of the coffee table scattered
throughout the place, and all of the pictures had been ripped from
the walls. Refrigerator contents and kitchen cupboards had been
emptied onto the floor, which was covered with broken dishes and the
remnants of dry goods packages ripped open and the contents
unceremoniously dumped. It was like they were looking for
something . . . something specific . . .

The
kitchen window had not been open then, but it was when she came back.
It looked as though someone had used acid to destroy the
lock on it. She didn't remember
the first aide kit being on the floor in the kitchen, either. That's
a two story drop, no way someone jumped out of that window . . .

Her
mind was racing with all the minor details, the mental snapshots she
had taken on her first time through, comparing them to what she had
seen on returning to the scene with the forensics team. Something
didn't fit, something that was alluding her. She could feel
it. . . . it didn't
feel right.

Hell,
of course it doesn't feel right!
It was a crime, and crime never feels right, Rodriguez .
. . especially when it hits so close to home .
. . It was just so . . . so violent.
She shuddered, and she silently thanked the Gods that her friend had
not been there.

She
needed a drink. She needed Michael. She needed to fix her shamisen
. . . DAMN! Forget the shamisen!
What was poor Kagome going to do? All of her belongings had been
ripped to shreds, literally.
Even those old photographs that she cherished so much . . . Wait.
. .

Photographs
. . . broken frames . . . damaged great aunt Kagome on bedroom
floor . . .

Flash
to - empty broken frame by dresser . . . where did great aunt
Kagome go?

“She
sure as hell didn't get up and walk out of there by herself . . .”
she muttered. Who would take an old school picture of
someone who had been dead for what . . . 40 years or more?

She
shook herself, both hands on the wheel trying to focus on the road.
The weather was strange, or maybe it was her mood. The winding of the
road, the patchy fog, she could have sworn that she saw a large dust
devil jump over the road just ahead.

You're
losin' it Rodriguez . . .

Her
mind tugged and pulled at what little evidence she had to go on as
she deftly slid past the light evening traffic, weaving around the
slower vehicles, anxiously making her way to the one sanctuary she
knew, to the people she felt closer to than family. I think
I'll pick up some beer . . .

She needed a drink. She needed Michael. She needed that
bitch in the rear view mirror to stop mocking her . . .

88*88*88*88*88*88*88

He had been there, still as stone, for hours. The
natural camouflage of his garb blending into the backdrop of the
massive pines. Just off the private road which led to the gate of
the compound, he patiently awaited the return of his prey. The
bastard would pay . . . and dearly.

There
had been few suspects to look to, when he found his devoted mate
mutilated on the forest floor. Only one bastard was brazen enough to
do this, on his turf,
to his mate. What he
didn't understand, was how he had gotten past the sentries. . .
unless he had help. And the old bastard had stepped up house
security, this was not going to be easy. Then again, nothing was ever
easy with Sesshoumaru. It never had been, and it never would be. The
only answer was to get the fucker's pelt, and end this feud once and
for all.

“Talk to me,” he barked, catching a
familiar scent. “What did you find?”

“Nothing, zilch,” came the reply

“Was she there? Did you find the female?”
he demanded.

“No. No sign of her,” resignation tinged
the answer. “Just the fucking wards she had slapped all over
the place. She musta broke the one's on the door to leave, otherwise
we wouldn't have gotten in at all.”

“Anything else you want to tell me?” he
knew there was more.

“Not really . . .”

“Let
me rephrase it then. Anything else you better
tell me??” He turned his glower to the ookami-youkai that was
perched on a limb above him. “You were gone for two days, it
doesn't take two fuckin' days to search an apartment.”

“There was a little snag. No big deal,”
arms folded loosely implying ease, the right hand of the Ookami
leader looked away, unable to meet his alpha's gaze.

“Explain
. . . snag. . . to me,” he was becoming irritated. This had
not been a good week.
The searches overseas had been fruitless, and in his absence Ayame
had gotten herself killed. Now investigation of the one good lead
they had here had apparently turned into a fiasco.

“The guys made too much noise . . . I guess,”
he peered down to meet his leader's eyes briefly. “The manager
. . . she interrupted us . . . so Diego gagged her and . . .”
he looked at the ground far below him.

“And...??”

“He was hungry.”

“And a snack took two days to finish?”Kouga
dropped to a snarl.

“Something
like that . . .” Ginta replied with a look of disgust.
“I made him take it
somewhere else so they could finish the search. Then we had to go
find him . . . try to clean up his mess . . . cops were all
over the place down by the docks. They found one of the legs before
we did.”

“Baka . . . where is he now?” All he got
was a shrug for a reply. “Where is M'noche, it's his brat . . .
he should handle it.” At the youkai's raised brow and snort,
his question was answered. M'noche had developed an addiction for
ningen females. Searching that apartment had probably driven him over
the edge. They might not see him for days. He returned his attention
to the road. “Find Diego. I will straighten his ass out. Meet
me at the caves.”

“I'm on it,” and Ginta dutifully left.

Kouga
returned to his vigil. He knew the lead car was out, which meant
His-arrogant-fucking- Lordship was out, and this road was a perfect
setup for an ambush. He didn't need any help, the bastard only had
one arm, after all, and no one carted around their swords anymore.
Plus . . . this was a personal
vendetta. The sun had begun to set, and a fog was blowing in off the
ocean. All the better.

His wait was not much longer.

When he saw the headlights turning up the winding path,
a low snarl emitted from his throat and he began to salivate.

88*88*88*88*88*88*88
- 19
- 20
- 21
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Finding Kagome