Sitting bar side at a stripper joint in west Pasadena, Cyrus Denason took in the late breaking news over a 35 inch plasma screen mounted just below some nicotine sullied acoustic ceiling panels. Previously recorded camera shots taken from a Salt Lake City news helicopter pointed to the quarter mile section of I-70 freeway that had fallen victim to a deep opening in the earth's surface ..

"Shit happens", he mumbled before downing another shot glass of Southern Comfort whiskey..

He'd stuffed enough twenties into an Asian girl's g-string over the course of the afternoon and evening to secure an after hours date, if he could manage to stay afloat until her shift was over at 12:AM...It was now eleven, and he dismissed what otherwise would be his umpteenth trip to the grimy men's room located in a back corner of the sprawling establishment...What made him squeeze off the all too familiar urge was a sweeping camera shot of the Bell 206 sitting a safe distance from the eastern edge of jaggy chasm created by an earthquake earlier in the day..Even from the news helicopter's vertical distance he recognized the Bell to be the same one Pigg and De La Cruz had been recently using while investigating the Mad Muse Case..The highway on both sides of the gap was lined with a variety of emergency vehicles including Utah State Police, Sevier County Sheriff's Department, tow trucks, and a lot of personnel standing around the perimeter of the seemingly bottomless black hole in the earth. He leaned over the bar listening intently as an inset picture on the television screen showed a reporter questioning the state trooper who had been on the scene at the time of the quake..The officer politely advised that at the current time, he was not able to confirm or deny any reports of passengers or vehicles that might have been victimized by the earthquake..Preliminary investigations were just getting underway..

Denason's attention was momentarily diverted from the trooper's statements as a background shot reflected a tow truck with two banged up Harley Davidson motorcycles strapped to it's flatbed..His attention was subsequently averted when his Asian connection suddenly appeared sliding up against him like a purring cat..He smiled taking in the swell of her ample breasts, and after squeezing a handful of left buttock, excused himself heading for the ''little boy's room''...He recalled the night he was in Blythe..It had been too dark and too far away to make out any discernable color or model of the couple's motorcycle..He shook his head though, pushing through the rusty hinged door of the restroom, taking in the stiff reek of urine and old puke that permeated the blistered linoleum flooring. Helicopters, weird occurrences, and motorcycles all seemed intertwined aspects of the Mad Muse Case..When those three conditions appeared simultaneously, it was definitely no accident.

Samantha and Hal finished their day setting foot in the door of her Mar Vista home by nine in the evening..They had been in the air only fifteen minutes after leaving Denver when Michelle's distress call came over Samantha's phone around 5:30 PM.

"Guess you got that helicopter ride sooner than expected!" Samantha had said to Michelle trying to lighten the couple's overall sober moods.

Michelle responded with a weak smile resting her head against Nick's shoulder in the cramped rear seating of the chopper..They were exhausted and visibly shaken after their ordeal finding the detectives questions difficult to answer..Words describing what they'd experienced were somewhat lacking in their vocabularies..It was an knowledge turned inward..Perhaps only fully comprehendible by exposure first hand..Something that made them closer to each other, but at the same time alienated to those around them seeking understanding through the watered down form of communication known as language..What they needed right now was a hotel room, hot shower, and plenty of rest.

Hal flew east thirty miles to the farming community of Richfield, and set the chopper down on a vacant lot near the intersection of South Main and East Center Street, the middle of the town's motel district..It was a fair size community, nearly seven thousand in population, the largest in Seiver County.

Arrangements had been made by the towing service to bring the bikes to a shop in town that specialized in A.T.V. repair, but due to the Harley's cosmetic damage the owner felt he could handle..Parts would have to be ordered out of Salt Lake City however, and that meant Nick and Michelle's travel plans would be delayed a day or two.

The four of them found lodging so close to the helicopter the owner's of the family run operation had watched them practically set down in their back yard..Hal flashed his FBI identification to the husband-wife management team, and using his best voice of authority, advised the couple that the folks staying with them were under FBI protection and a measure of security was in order..He paid for three nights stay in advance using his own credit telling Nick and Michelle they could return the favor when he and Sam stayed over in Aspen..In truth, he didn't want the couple's location traced with an easy paper trail of credit card use..

Samantha agreed whole heartedly with her partner's plan and using the lobbies stand-alone A.T.M. machine drew her daily bank limit leaving Michelle three hundred dollars spending money..With cash in hand, they'd only make use of their credit cards when picking up the motorcycles before leaving town.

They helped the couple settle in to a comfortable room, and within an hour were once again airborne heading in a south westerly direction..As they whisked homeward they discussed at great length their own experience in Denver, and of the strange accounting of Nick and Michelle's day.

The chasm created by the earthquake was of such depth and breadth, any evidence of the disabled vehicles had disappeared somewhere far below. Probably covered by tons of rock and debris that had broken loose from the overhanging cliffs. Whether or not excavation of the site was a possibility remained to be seen as the event was only several hours old.

The eerie tale of experience leading up to the earthquake rolled repeatedly in Hal's mind, and seemed to solidify the affirmation Nick had voiced back in Blythe, that he felt as if he were being lead into events surrounding the Mad Muse Case with no previous consent of his own.

"Trouble seems to follow that man around with a sledgehammer." Samantha commented, pulling Hal's thoughts back towards her.

He nodded slipping on his sunglasses while squinting through the glare in the domed cabin windows.."Sun is in our face again," He grinned.

She confirmed his comment by putting on her own pair.

"Sexy," he said, still grinning at her.

"You too," she replied in a voice he'd come to recognize as shaped for him alone.

For a time they were both quiet watching the changing landscape steadily work it's way down rugged mountainous regions giving way to flat low deserts and barren hillsides typical of western Utah and Arizona..In the horizon, a waning sun finally fell below rising ranges of Sierra Nevada mountains, painting multicolored arrays of sweeping hues against a canvas of blue sky that seemed to condense into the reddish orange ball of fire hovering delicately somewhere just beyond their vision. Perched here, high in the firmament of space, the expansive view offered a healthy solace that their lives were infinitely richer than the confines of a single day's events no matter what the outcome.

It was Hal voice that finally broke the silence as his thoughts returned to Samantha's earlier comment concerning Nick. "We both know Nick is a good guy, and Michelle knows he is too, but that sledgehammer you referred to has now involved her as well..I am afraid he's going to run into a major brick wall with her parents over it."

Samantha added, "Let's just hope they both get to that brick wall alive...Honestly..First the mad cows, then someone trying to run them down in Blythe, now this."

Hal nodded adding, "This latest episode may prove his hunch about Gilespie and the Zoot guy's destination...There is a definite north east pattern developing."

"Yes but at what cost? Samantha asked.."My God,..you'd think we'd be the one's under attack..We're right out in the open, doing the investigation..Mallory witnessed the Suit Man probably watching us over in Desert Center..We've already been to Denver..We're the threat to this thing, not Nick Flannery, right?"

"Threat, I think is the key word," Hal offered.."Neither Gilespie nor the Suit has tried to corner Flannery..So, it's not like he has something they want."

She replied, "No, but they definitely want him dead...And maybe those plans now include Michelle as well."

Hal added, "There's another angle we need to consider..The possibility Michelle is the threat and Nick just seems to be the target because he's with her."

"My God," Samantha replied, "I can't imagine that little thing could possibly be a threat to anyone."

"Maybe not a threat in the normal sense, Sam...Maybe just in the wrong place at the right time." He thought a moment then continued.."Let's just say for discussion sake this Zoot Suit guy is some kind of supernatural boogeyman..What if he could,...see,..into the future?"

She chuckled, "You mean he like,.carries around a crystal ball in a bowling bag?"

He shrugged.."Yeah,..well no,..but yeah, maybe..But what if?..If he could somehow see ahead of the rest of us...Maybe he already knows Nick, or Michelle for that matter, are going to do something that would mess up his plans."

"Inadvertently," she said.

"Right..Just doing their own thing..Showing up in Denver to play music at the Battle of the Bands event, and somehow mucking things up for Gilespie, or the Suit guy."

She thought about his theory for a moment and added.."Yeah, but why all the theatrics?..Attacking mad cows?..This latest deal on I-70?...Come on, I mean if your going to off somebody,...there are a lot quieter ways to do it."

"No doubt," he said..."Your absolutely right honey...I don't know." He paused a moment then continued. "What do they have, three-hundred fifty, or four hundred miles left to Aspen? Maybe we should just fly those two out of Richfield and  set them down safe and sound."

"What, just leave their bikes there?"

He shrugged.."I am sure the shop would store them for a price."

She nodded.."Their pretty shook up right now..They might go for it...It would help Nick over that brick wall too..Imagine?..Having the FBI personally land their daughter safely on their front lawn."

"It's either that or we're going to have to put somebody on them to watch their back." He said.

"Denason, or Mallory?" She asked.

"Yeah, and I hate to do that..I was going to have those guy's check out the Amphitheater for us tomorrow, and start organizing security arrangements."

"I thought we were heading back up there Wednesday to do that," she said..

"Me too," he answered..."But I got a phone message from Yu...We've got to catch up with him..He says he's got something for us."

They were greeted at the front door by Quentin dressed in his favorite pajamas, the ones with the fire engine prints all over them..

"Your up passed your bedtime," Samantha said giving him a hug.

"My fault," Darlene said.."He wanted to be up when you two got home."

"Wait till you see what we made!" Quentin said pulling his mom into the dining room where a series of poster board finger paintings were still drying on top of the kitchen table lined with newspaper..

"Wow, these are great!" Samantha said amazed at the variety of colorful landscapes.."You know what?..I want to get frames for these and hang them right here on the walls!"

"Yeah," Quentin responded holding back a yawn.

Hal said, "If there's one left over I'd like to take it to work and put it in my office Quen."

"I think he has a genuine talent," Darlene remarked..."He did these himself Sam..I just stood back and watched him go!"

"Sure doesn't get it from me," Samantha laughed.

Hal did the traditional honors of tucking the boy in while Samantha and Darlene hung out in the dining room catching up on the details of their lives...Darlene was close to finishing another novel. Her fourth in a series featuring a heroine private investigator who's specialty took her to exotic places around the globe uncovering crimes committed in the world of high fashion.

"I am surrounded by so much talent," Samantha commented.."You Darlene, a wonderful writer, my son a budding artist..Hal and I recently met a young man and woman who are musicians."

"Your talented Samantha," Darlene countered..."If you don't think being successful in your work and being successful as a mother are a talent..Your deceiving yourself."

"Your right," Samantha said.."It's just that artist types seem to express themselves so,..vibrantly I guess."

Darlene shrugged.."If everyone expressed vibrancy the definition of the word would lose it's meaning...It takes all kinds of talent to make us the unique individuals we are..I guess that's what makes the world so interesting."

"Thanks Mom," Samantha chuckled, "I needed that."

The two women gave each other a big hug and Samantha walked her friend to the door.

"Same bat time?" Darlene asked.

"Same bat station." Samantha returned.

A little later she sat in the living room watching television as Hal scooted around the kitchen whipping them up some dinner..He fancied himself a bit of a chef. Another vibrant artist of sorts she found herself facing acknowledgment of through a half amused smirk ending in a long sigh..Her dip into slight depression quickly evaporated however when the news cast she'd been viewing suddenly reflected the scene along Utah's I-70 earlier today and their Bell 206 helicopter in the background..

"Honey, we're on T.V.!" She screamed excitedly jumping off the couch, and dragging her apron donning man to the front of the screen fully immersed in her moment of fame.

He said, "Hey, look at that baby, our 206 is on television." She stood behind him, her arms locked around his waste, grinning from ear to ear.

Still later, after they'd slipped into bed and were talking in low voices, she suddenly sat bolt upright in response to a thought that unexpectedly dawned on her.

"I've got it!" She said amazed.

"What?" He replied stroking her waves of black hair that fell below her shoulder blades.

"I know why the Zoot Suit man does everything so theatrical!"

"You do?"

"Yes," she said shaking her head.."And I would never have figured it out if Quentin hadn't painted those pictures today!"

He raised his eyebrows then smiled taking in the long line of her back, and spoke while gently massaging the outer edges of her vertebra.."Tell me."

"It's like Darlene said to me earlier..Everyone expresses themselves in their own unique fashion!..The Zoot Suit guy is supernatural Hal!..He probably doesn't have the faintest idea how to shoot a gun, or throw a knife, or drive a car."

Hal nodded, "Yeah,..yeah I see where your going with this."

"He's here in our,..material world," she said continuing.."A world as foreign and strange to him as his is to us..He's just trying to off Nick the only way he knows how."

"Using the tools he is used to using?" Hal asked.

Samantha finished, "Using the stuff of the underworld..Magic spells, or summoning the help of evil entities..It would explain the claw prints in Gilespie's apartment, the possession of mad cows, and maybe the aspects of the anomaly in the freeway today."

"Yeah," Hal said.. "But we've already figured the Zoot Suit guy controls Gilespie so why not just have Herman to his dirty work for him?..It would be a hell of a lot more subtle."

Samantha turned over laying her head on his chest.."Maybe because Herman's not always around...Herman wasn't present during the mad cow incident..He was in Desert Center...Next thing we know he's in Las Vegas..Maybe Herman is too occupied hiding out, or just trying to get to Denver to be of any better use."

"Right, Hal agreed.."It's scary though..I mean, bad enough this Zoot guy is busy throwing supernatural roadblocks around..But that earthquake!...What are the chances that was a coincidence?"

"Probably about the same as us winning the lottery." She said.