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I, square bracket recruit's name square bracket...

Who: Private Rupert Giles and anyone along his beat
Where: The mansion and surrounding area
When: During the event
Rating: I can't see it going over PG-13
Summary: There's a new kid at the W.P.D. precinct. Will he be able to handle the pressures of the job? Will he honor his vow to uphold law and order? Will he catch the perps? And, more importantly, will he be able to deliver the appropriate witty one-liners?
The Story:

((ooc: This post is limited to Giles acting out police type shenanigans. Those who I've already planned a scene with can tag in here, unless you've got a separate log going for your stuff and want me to tag you instead. Just PM me. If anyone else has any ideas on how to assist in Giles' inquiries, you've also come to the right post. Hope this is okay!))

"In the criminal justice system..."

"Who on Earth keeps saying that?"

Giles doesn't know why these people keep insisting that he's a cop, and a "rookie new guy", at that. They gave him a blue jacket and an appropriately sized vest, both printed with "W.P.D". They gave him a pair of sunglasses, which did not seem to be standard police issue, but which they complained about his conduct if he did not wear.

"Who keeps saying what, kid? Better watch it. More than a few good men have cracked like eggs on this job. You're already up on report."

"I'm on report for asking why we're pursuing a robbery a when we ourselves are from homicide. And collecting evidence besides. I'm sure that can't be legal."

"Take it from me - keep your head down, kid. Don't make waves."

"They", in turn, seemed to be little more than homunculus or golems, or incredibly well designed puppets. One of them, claiming to be his "partner", followed him around the place, talking about cases.

Giles was utterly baffled. And annoyed. He'd thought the last event would see the end of him followed all over the place. Mostly, though this was even more incomprehensible than the mess with the shadows. He knew this had something to do with Alice's earlier inquiry - "If you could be anyone else, who would you be?", but he didn't want to be some ridiculous misunderstanding of a policeman. Giles had never gotten on with police, for obvious reasons.

Rather than the mansion, he seemed to be walking down a busy city street - New York, but Giles didn't know that, having never been to New York. He was also eating a doughnut, because people seemed to be giving him marginally less funny looks when he did. At seemingly random intervals, his "partner" would declare that people were suspects or people of interest in an investigation, and demand that he take them in for questioning.

He got lectured, mandatory discussions with a homunculus psychiatrist, guns pointed at him, and generally knocked around by the worrying real NPCs when he resisted the flow of things. On the other hand, when he tried to play along, his partner was killed in a drive-by. Giles made an effort at putting on a good show of remorse, and was thankfully not assigned a new one from the hordes of NPCs.

That doesn't mean he might not find himself teaming up with you for a case. Got to catch the bad guys, right? And that definitely doesn't mean he's at all familiar with how he's supposed to behave - mostly, Giles takes his cues and stumbles along over the course of the event, waiting for it all be over. Feed him a cue, and you'll have his undying gratitude.

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Somewhere in mid-morning on Saturday, Martha finds herself on the streets of New York. Not the actual stress of New York, of course, but it's odd because -- well, she's been there before, and this "set" fits it almost perfectly. Once again, she has to wonder if Wonderland is pulling things out of their memories to do this, either from shows they've watched or from their own experiences, mashing them together and then making them play along.

It's not like she has much time to think it over, though, as someone stalks up to her on the crowded city street and grabs her by the arm. Both of them are dressed in suits, and Martha's got a longer trenchcoat on that she doesn't really think is very much her style, but that doesn't seem to matter.

"Come on, detective," the other woman tells her. "You'll be working with Officer Giles on this. He's from a different department, but the case is technically part of their jurisdiction, so try to play nice, won't you?"

"Wait, what are we--" Martha frowns, trying to figure out if this person dragging her along is a Wonderland resident or just another figment on the event's part. "What are we even investigating?"

"I'm super Officer Giles will fill you in, Jones," the woman replies tersely.

They round a corner and she spots a young boy snacking on a donut and looking similarly baffled by this whole thing. Martha spins toward the unknown woman, wrenching out of her grip. "But he's a child! You don't honestly mean that..."

"I'm afraid they do." This time, Giles doesn't feel his usual annoyance at being mistaken for a child. This entire situation really is that ridiculous. He is over a foot shorter than everyone present. At least, fighting the supernatural, there's usually not an organization to join that really shouldn't let him.

He stands, surrounded by other homunculus at a cordoned off building that was apparently a museum. The rest of the "squad" are moving around and talking in low voices to one another. There's a body visible on the front steps, its skull caved in.

"Sorry, just a moment." Giles checks his notebook. That's one upside, at least. No one is looking at him funny for taking notes. Smiling in an annoyingly patronizing fashion over his head and making remarks about his status as a rookie, and how it's a rookie thing to do. But it's appropriate, in this strange little pocket dimension, and so Giles is grateful for small mercies.

"Ah, yes. The proprietor was murdered 'last night'. No one saw anything. Several important pieces were taken, including a few historic ones brought to this location for temporary display. Due to your familiarity with archeology and ancient history as a member of Customs, you have been brought in as an advisor."

He looks up at Martha and shrugs helplessly. She looks somehow realer than everything else here, including the general environment. That, combined with the fact that she looks as uncertain as he feels, tell Giles that another unfortunate resident of the mansion has wandered into this mess.

At this point, however, Giles realizes that the scene is taking a turn for the..."odd", again. They're subtle clues, but he's starting to pick up on them, at least in part as a result of necessity to avoid getting hit by a car. Some of the homunculus are starting to mutter in a more purposeful fashion, and he feels that they're both being stared at intently. Expectantly, in fact.

Giles tries not to panic, or freeze, at this realization. He's been fumbling his own way through this mess as it is. He's not sure he can be the least bit of help to someone else.

While the boy does whatever it is that he's doing with his notebook, Martha ducks around some of the others to get a look at the crime scene. It's not as if she hasn't seen bodies in bad shape during her residency, so she isn't that bothered by the sight of the corpse. Considering that all of this has been fabricated for some pointless reason, there's even less reason for it to get to her.

What surprises her is that the boy with the notebook is taking this all so well. It's possible that he's also been through a few scenes before this one, but even so... he looks younger than most of the teenage Wonderland residents that she's met. About Henry's age, actually, but other than that, everyone else has been at least a few years older.

Her attention is drawn away from the crime scene when he starts going on about her specialties. "Archaeology and ancient history? I'm not..." Who do they think she is, Indiana Jones? They may share the same last name, but that's about where the similarities end.

However, the others around them don't seem to agree with that. Martha's able to sense it too, and one of the officers looks at her with a frown. "You came highly recommended, Jones. Are we to assume that your superiors made some kind of mistake?"

Martha tenses slightly and shakes her head. She realizes that this is only going to be more painful if they try to resist against it. "No, sorry, just... this is a bit new to me," she admits. She hears a few chuckles and has to fight not to be annoyed by them. She turns back to the boy and shrugs her shoulders. "Let's go, then, Officer... Giles, was it?"

"For the moment, and against my will."

Giles looks up just long enough to glower around, daring the scene to speak out against him for speaking the truth. For the moment, all is quiet in reply, and Giles decides not to press his luck.

He turns around and motions for Martha to follow. "The missing exhibits are marked. I suppose you'll want a look around the crime scene. Possible points of entry, and all that."

Someone calls out - he isn't sure who and doesn't care, besides the fact that it's one of "his": "The quicker she clears out, the quicker we can get back to doing some real work!"

Someone else who's probably the captain goes to chastise them for speaking out of turn, but Giles files this comment away for consideration. He thinks he's just been given a hint. Until then, he'll lead the way into the building.

It isn't that she wants a look around the crime scene, but it's not as if they have any choice. It seems that she and Giles are the only two people here who are actually real, since surely someone else would have shown up by now if they'd fallen into this fake world with them. The whole idea of someone so young being an investigator makes her wonder how the act doesn't break down around that, but she's not going to draw attention to it.

That comment called over from afar causes Martha to bristle, even though this is all imaginary. Even if she isn't who they're expecting her to be, it still grates at her that she's being accused of being some kind of burden.

Feathers ruffled, she ducks under the crime scene tape and moves toward the corpse first. That's an area she's more familiar with, rather than archaeology and all that, so it seems like a good place to start.

"My name's Martha, by the way," she says over her shoulder in Giles' direction as she walks toward the body. "Kind of an odd way to first meet, isn't it? But we'll just have to get through this."

It probably says a lot about Giles that the sight of the dead body doesn't even faze him. It's a corpse with its skull caved in. Fairly straightforward, to him, and thank god for that. This day is bad enough as it is.

Still, he looks up just long enough to offer Martha an apologetic smile. "It certainly is. But, um, I imagine that's not uncommon, here. You're right - we'll just have to manage. I suppose solving this case might be a good start."

He casts a look around the room. There are, indeed, places marked where objects had been stolen, in a fashion he's sure aren't actually used in real life. But this isn't real life - this is a play.

"You really don't know anything about archaeology? I suppose it doesn't matter - I don't recognize anything here, either. Perhaps this place made the artwork up as well as the people."

Even if everyone else is playing this straight, there are definitely some giveaways that this isn't actually real. It's the way the scene is set, small touches that make it clear that it wouldn't actually be like this in the real world. It's all too polished, too much like what you'd expect.

But right, they solve this and get out of here and maybe they can focus on actually engaging in those pleasantries that people usually fall into during a first meeting. She's curious to know why someone so young got picked for a role like this, for instance. Then again, it could be completely random.

Martha kneels down next to the body, frowning as she reaches into her pocket and finds exactly what she needs there: a latex glove. She pulls it on and then reaches out to move the head back and forth. The damage to the skull is severe. She doubts this was just some blunt force trauma...

At Giles' question, she glances up and shakes her head. "Not more than the average person, at least. I'm a doctor, but apparently Wonderland isn't interested in that. We're just going to have to fake our way through this."

A few of the others are eyeing them suspiciously, and Martha quickly stands. "Right, on to the artwork. I wonder if it's possible that one of them was used as the murder weapon. A heavy enough sculpture, maybe..."

Giles winces at an old memory, accompanied by a phantom pain in his head. "A heavy enough statue could certainly do the job," he says, with certainty that speaks of experience.

He moves to take a look around the gallery, a proper look at the "artwork". He spies an empty plinth that might hold the culprit, but he also spies something else. Giles notices that few of the others are eyeing them suspiciously. He tries to think. There's still something that's missing, something they're not...doing, in order to move on.

He comes up with the catcall from earlier - that had definitely been significant, a piece of direct interference on par with other "encouragement" he's had to deal with so far to play along.

Giles sighs. "So, you've never really worked with police before, Miss Jones?"

It's surprising that the imaginary thief could have absconded with as much artwork as appears to be missing from the gallery. Martha wonders if that's meant to indicate that it wasn't a single criminal, but a group of people working together as a team. It's something to keep in mind, at the least.

They should ask about the security systems, as well. Shouldn't there be security cameras in a place like this? They were likely disabled in order to carry out the crime, but it still seems as if this place should have been guarded a bit better. Convenient for the sake of a telly program, perhaps?

She's lost in thought when Giles' question breaks through, and she turns toward him, uncertain if he's asking her directly or trying to play a part.

"Not exactly," she admits. "I've carried out plenty of investigations, though. Just not... completely orthodox ones." She's mainly investigated temporal issues alongside the doctor, or looked into some bizarre situation to find out who was behind it. A homicide like this almost feels straight-forward in comparison.

"Well, for all we know, this might not be completely orthodox. I think the methods by which we've found ourselves on this case speak for that."

That was genuinely asking the question. And Giles was impressed - really, it seemed like they might make a good team even outside ridiculous happenstances like this. He was also out of practice in solving cases that really were everything they seemed to be, but he suspected that was the case here. Even if it was all an illusion.

There was probably more than one thief, even if all signs pointed to only one murderer. There was way too much missing from walls and pedestals for anyone but a blind security guard to miss being smuggled out.

"I don't think we're supposed to like one another. Or, um, at the least, I don't think we're supposed to be communicating as we are. The ones by the door are starting to give me funny looks."

Giles brings up a good point. This entire situation is more or less a result of something out of the ordinary, seeing how it's one of the mansion's events -- which means that for all that they know, the crime here might be supernatural in nature in well.

His remark inspires a raised eyebrow, and Martha casts a glance over her shoulder at the people standing near the entrance. It's like Giles said -- they're eyeing them like hawks. She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Can't they mind their own business? We're working, aren't we?"

Still, it seems like they'll have to play along. Martha isn't much of an actress, but she gets the feeling that so long as they put an effort in, it should count. "Right, then." She shoots Giles a small, subtle smiling before she tosses her head and marches away from him in a huff, moving toward one of the art displays that's empty of its piece.

She stands there, hands on her hips, and goes about examining it. There's no scuffing or any other indications of the painting being lifted up off the wall and away. It's all immaculate. Is the thief just that good, or does this mean something else?

Kid can't even believe his life right now. There's no TV back home, but there are plays, and all these stupid words that keep popping into his head give him a headache if he doesn't just say them. He doesn't understand this event at all, but he knows at least that he has to go along with it or his head might explode.

So.

"3:32 PM. Saturday. Dame's first lead never panned out; ol' Jackie-boy had clammed up quieter than a sinner in a chapel. My second lead was sure to be more reliable--Johnny One-Eye was the loudest canary in the cage. Loved gossip more than a housewife on laundry day.

"I downed a fifth of Jack for lunch and made my way to Johnny's place. He ran a pawn shop outta Easttown, just two blocks from Skid Row. Easttown makes most slums look like Beverly Hills, but I've walked this beat so many times, knew all the ins and outs, all the gangsters by name and reputation--had my noggin, my know-how and my Glock to keep me safe. The rain beat down hard on the city, turning the streets to slop and fillin' the air with the smell of piss and garbage. Ah, the city. Home sweet home."

Kid is wandering around outside, wearing a trench coat, a shoulder holster and a fedora. And his bandanna, because fucked if he's taking that off. It is absolutely not raining. Nor is it afternoon.

He spots Giles and some fresh bullshit pops into his head. "I rounded a corner and there he was. Giles. Rookie cop, the fresh-faced, no-nonsense, by-the-book type. Already had a reputation for being a pain in my ass. Ain't a cop alive who don't look down on a private eye like yours truly, but this kid made it an art."

He comes to a stop before Giles and gives a long-suffering sigh, then whispers, "Think we s'posed t'be rivals or sommat."

Giles hears Kid coming before he sees him. For a moment, he's not sure it even means anything. He's been hearing a voice all day - it's very concerning. His only consolation is that everyone seems to be going a little mad and hallucinating, so it's not just him.

Any relief he might feel at seeing Kid is marred by three factors. The first is that he feels like an idiot wandering around like this "investigating" nothing, and Giles hates it when people intrude on his humiliation.

The second factor is the headache he gets. The third is Kid's narration, and the slightly sinking feeling it induces in his stomach. Oh, dear. Nothing is going to be simple today, is it?

"Are we?" he asks, looking over at the other as Kid draws near. His headache immediately intensifies, making Giles wince and press a hand to his forehead. "Oh. Ow. Yes, I think we are."

He racks his brain for some relevant piece of ridiculousness from his "dead" "partner", and finally comes up with: "Th-This case isn't your jurisdiction. And, um...it's a police matter. No outside assistance. You'll only get in our way." He sounds a little apologetic as he says it, but his head starts to stop hurting.

Kid rolls his eyes at how ridiculous and frustrating this all is. His "inner monologue," which is more of an outer monologue, gives him plenty of clues but he thus far has had to come up with the actual dialogue on his own. Noir doesn't even exist in his world, so he really has no idea what to say.

"Uh...yeah. Sorry 'bout that." That gives him a headache though, so he growls and tries a different tack. "I mean, uh, well, I bin hired t'get th' necklace back an' tha's jus' what I'm gonna do, I guess."

Necklace. Giles racks his brain to remember if he's been told anything about a necklace. Much as he doesn't want to, he has been paying attention to the going's-on around him, if only to try and figure out how to make it stop.

Wait. Necklace. Right. Stolen necklace. He's in homicide. Why does he care about a stolen necklace?

The pain in his head, and the flowerpot the crashes to the sidewalk a few feet away, narrowly missing his head, tells him that he does care about a necklace.

"Your client should have gone through, um...official channels to recover her stolen property. We'll recover this necklace, um, by the book. Faith in the system, and all that." That seems to work, and so Giles tries his luck: "But I suppose I can't stop you, so I'll...have to keep an eye on you?"

That seems to work. Giles brightens slightly at this small success, even if he's not sure he should feel proud. After all, what he's succeeded at is roping Kid in with him.

Kid thinks about how to respond, and oddly enough the first thing that comes to his head is how the Masons treated him his first few weeks on tour. So Giles is the rookie cop who's getting in his way, huh? Okay. He can work with that.

"You, uh--yeah. You think I'm gonna let a kid what's greener than old vineapple chowder tag along on a dangerous--mission--o' this sort? Ain't gonna happen. You'll get yerself 'r both 'f us killed."

...hm. Giles, in turn, isn't used to being the rookie in anything. Even when he was a newcomer to the Academy, he did a lot to skate by on talent. To the point that he actually got a bit lazy before circumstances made that impossible.

It's been a long, long time since he's had to deal with not being respected. But only because it's been a long, long time since he's had much to do with the one person who made disrespecting him a hobby.

But he still remembers.

Giles draws himself up to his full four and a half foot height and says, with all the still-significant confidence he can muster:

"I'm not asking to tag along. I'm already working this case, with or without you, and you don't exactly have the authority to stop me. In fact, you have no authority at all. I suggest you quit while you're ahead, Detective, because I've done enough paperwork today that an arrest would break up the monotony. I think Disturbing the Peace or Obstruction would do for a start." Giles is aware from past experience that this threat means precisely nothing, but it sounds right to say.

Hm. Not a bad reply. Giles is pretty good at this. The other Masons would drop him off the Wall for that, or trick him into drinking a pint of Doomshine, which was probably worse. At least Kid isn't even remotely invested in how this goes or how tough he really looks.

"You should know threats ain't gonna work on me, greenhorn. Now, 'f you don't mind, I got a job t'do. An', uh, what was it, a necklace or sommat to find. Ain't got time t'be...uh, like, jabberin' on 'bout nothin'."

"Yes, um, well. There's a murder connected with the theft of this necklace. Therefore, I am investigating it as well. Being a homicide officer, all of a sudden. The murderer and the thief are probably one and the same, because let's face it, they always are."

Okay. So, they both have investigating to do. If they both investigate, it should get done twice as quickly.

It sounds logical, but absolutely nothing about this is logical. Still. Worth a shot and, as before, it sounds right.

Hm...

"So if we should happen to cross paths during this case, watch yourself."

It's a poor man's "later that night". And, just like that, the scenery changes, from a busy city street to a rundown house in a bad residential neighborhood.

"Oh. A murder, huh?" He hadn't heard about that. The Dame had just said something about a necklace and how she needed it back and blah blah. Kid leans toward Giles conspiratorially.

"Not, like, anyone we know, right?" Which is to say, not one of these illusory people, the black and white folk wandering around as if everything is normal. A woman with a flapper haircut shoots Kid a strange look as she passes, but apparently the question is innocuous enough that the scene will let it go.

"Yeah. I'll be sure t'do that."

And then the scene changes, and it's jarring enough that Kid takes a step back, looking around in confusion.

"Oh damn, now what?"

[ooc: i think we're gonna do the chase scene in kid's post further up since that's where souji is :3]

"I have absolutely no idea. But this...whatever it is has done a damn good job of leading us around so far. If we're suddenly here? It's probably for a reason."

Well, they're standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the porch. Giles climbs up them, and tries to get a look through the muddied windows.

"...no one seems to be home."

A quick shake of the handle confirms one other thing, and that is: "...and the door is locked. Encouraging."

((ooc: Makes sense to me! Do you want to switch over now? Souji could be hiding in here or something.))

[ooc: sounds good! thread is here i'll tag it next if that's okay?]

"Detective Giles! Detective Giles!"

As Giles walks down the street there's suddenly a young woman rushing to catch up with him. Elizabeth has on a business suit with a skirt and heels. It's not easy to run in these, but she's making very good time. She also has on her intrepid-reporter hat and a press badge is around her neck.

Once she catches up to him she pants for breath and whips out a voice recorder, which she presses record on.

"Detective, a few questions! You've been assigned to a very high profile case, despite being brand new on the force and having NO experience what-so-ever! Some suspect your name was drawn out of a hat for this. Care to comment?"

And she sticks the recorder in his face.

Giles is already more than a little jumpy. So to have someone come running at him and calling his name does absolutely nothing for his composure, and he lets out a most undignified yelp, stumbling back a few paces from Elizabeth with his hands up.

For a second, all he can do is stare at her, wondering if she's serious. It's not that he blames her for the ridiculous props - it's the enthusiasm.

After that, though, Giles takes great pleasure in saying: "I have no experience at police work whatsoever, and I suspect that I was. I'm glad someone noticed."

On cue, a wayward car passes a little too close to a gutter still overflowing with "last night's" rain, sending up a spray of it that only drenches Giles, leaving Elizabeth quite dry. He sputters a bit, and then takes the hint.

"I mean...I believe I have a natural instinct for police work that will be of great assistance to the investigation. I was assigned on the basis of my own talent, and I look forward to proving myself."

Elizabeth isn't usually THIS enthusiastic, though she definitely can show enthusiasm at times. But she's just playing her part. It's almost as though she's compelled to do it this way.

She nods at his words and then again at his corrected words. The recorder is put away and she jots a few things on her notepad. Then she reaches into her pocket for her phone and makes a call.

"Frank? Yes, I have your headline. Rookie Cop Up a Creek. Print it."

And she hangs up.

While Elizabeth delivers her report, Giles reviews the situation.

Wait a minute. Reporters. He knows how to deal with reporters! He dealt with reporters more than once, back in Sunnydale. More curiosity than sense - in a way, they're not so different from him.

All right. If Elizabeth is going to play her part, he might be able to help her out here. Even if her part seems to involve harassing him, it might at least keep disasters from happening to him.

"I'm glad I managed to satisfy you with that headline." he says, turning away like he's going to move on. "Maybe this investigation has a chance after all."

Elizabeth has fallen perfectly into her role. Breaking it isn't something she's really considering. After all, these things must be done so life can get back to normal. She flips through her pad, checking her notes, but looks up when he says that.

"What do you mean? Do you have a new lead?"

"Even if I did, I am not at liberty to discuss it. Certainly not with the press. This case requires discretion, something I'm afraid the press in this city are not known for."

Giles hates the role he's fallen into, partly because it involves him being jerked around and partly because he looks ridiculous. Everyone, even the not-people, know it.

This is familiar, though, even if he's usually on the other side of the conversation. So that's something, and better than most of the day has been for him so far. It makes it a bit less painful to play along - the game is always easier when you think you know the rules.

"But I might be able to help you! We reporters are extremely resourceful." And if she helps, she'll have the inside story on the scoop!

From the looks of it, Giles could use all the help he can get if he wants to crack this case.

"I've noticed. Often, you're too resourceful for your own good."

But the truth was, he could use some help. And reporters often weren't held to the same standards as police. This killer had proven especially elusive, so far. No footprints, no finger prints, no signs of forced entry.

"Who were you thinking of investigating, besides me?"

She must have had some other leads. Maybe leads they hadn't considered, yet.

"How can you be too resourceful?" There's no such thing, in her opinion.

Elizabeth flips through her notebook. "Well, the standard is to also interview the family and the neighbors. Have you done that yet?" She'd be surprised if he hadn't, though it's possible since he was just assigned the case.

"By using those resources to find yourself in situations that could get you killed."

In this, Giles speaks from experience.

"I've interviewed the neighbors. He had a brother, but he doesn't appear to be around as of late."

Which even a policekid knows is most definitely suspicious. "Perhaps you can help me figure out where he might have gone."

Elizabeth flips her notebook open again and writes that down.

"Find.. brother.."

She nods, "I'll get right on that!" If anyone can find a missing brother it's an intrepid reporter with connections!

"Your enthusiasm does you credit." And will hopefully make this easier on both of them - Giles admires her enthusiasm in the face of all of this, even if he doesn't quite understand it.

He pulls out his own notebook, flipping to the latest of many pages filled today in order to check his facts.

"Yes, the brother. Find him, convince him to come down to the station. I'll take another look around where our victim was last seen, and then meet you there."

Elizabeth gives a little salute.

"I'll do everything I can!" Though she wonders if she'll be successful. Finding somebody is one thing, but convincing them to go to a police station might be tricky.

"And so will I."

The scene lets them part, there, in order to attend to their respective roles. For Giles, at least, it's something of a blur until he finds himself back in the police station. Thinking back, he barely remembers what he was doing the last while, but it must have gotten done or he wouldn't be here.

Hopefully, he looks around for Elizabeth. At least things are marginally more interesting, with her around.

How scenes switch, no one is sure, but Elizabeth enters the police station and goes straight to see Giles. The other cops don't look too happy to have a reporter running around, but she won't be unattended for long.

"Detective! I found the brother! He's..."

She flips her notebook open to check it.

"In Mexico. I don't think he'll be coming in to speak with you."

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