No one said anything about the writing, but the water user did ask her if she was alright. She wasn't, but her default answer was "I'm fine." Her jacket she wrapped around her arms trying to use the excuse of cold to hide the words.

She, of all people, could never be accused of knowing too much.

Suddenly the situation became clear. They would keep banging their heads against the same brick wall without further information. The only one who retained any extra information was herself. But she was afraid to say. People didn't take kindly to memory erasure.

And then she realized she was huddling. Noel did not huddle. She did not take the easy way out. That made her sit up straight and spill the beans.

"I erased your memories." It felt good to have the truth out there. "I don't know why because my mutant power cuts both ways... and I think that was part of the reason why I did it." She pulled the coat off her arms to show off the words.

"What were you working on before we met?" She didn't really expect them to like her after her declaration, but who else did they have to talk to? Noel stood and her back felt caked and thick and sore. She tried to think too. She had been on the trail of something big. "Mutant powers were going off where there were no mutants?" Kind of like a class full of troublemakers. You get a spit wad in the face and nobody wants to cooperate.

"No." A good of an answer as any. He really wasn't. That thing he'd thought earlier? About the cop, the naked lawyer, and the woman who called him kitten? Yeah. All of that. What was up with that? He still didn't know a single thing about the train of events that had dropped him off at this location, right here, right now. It was pretty messed up.

Unfortunately, Aurum did not have the novelty of eying either party. He was too busy being cold, wet and confused.

Where could they go to solve two of those last three problems. What could they do to light up the darkness surrounding the final of the trio. Did any of them have any ideas. He was coming up empty.

And he was hungry. He was empty.

At least it wasn't raining...

Aurum's eyes shot to the skies, double-checking. No time for jinxes.

No time for jinxes, no time for confusion. The woman spilled. Aurum's eyes dropped back down, and focused on her. They hardened. "You what." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. It caught everything he felt from hearing that in its inflection. Anger. More anger. Okay. Maybe there wasn't any confusion or annoyance mingling with those emotions. No other confusing emotions. Just... pissed. He'd almost missed the rest of what she'd said, after that first thing. What she'd done had kind of taken precedence in his mind, above all else. Nobody much likes losing what's in their head, Aurum especially. A split second after his statement, it hit him. His mind took a step back. "Wait. What?"

>> "I erased your memories…I don't know why because my mutant power cuts both ways... and I think that was part of the reason why I did it."

>> “You what.”

Big revelation and immediately Jorge’s suspicions were up again. Apparently he wasn’t the only one shocked by the woman’s announcement. The lawyer seemed just as surprised and looked particularly irritated by the sentiment. He couldn’t blame him, if anything he was feeling exactly the way he was feeling right now, like someone had raided his personal safe. It was not a good feeling, to know that someone had taken something from you without even knowing know why or what it was. The fact that she had managed to access their memories and wipe clean a certain even made her immediately suspiciously.

But of course there was always a catch, now she couldn’t remember why she had done it either. Whatever she did also affected her but why would someone intentionally force themselves to lose time like that? Did she ever get back those memories? Would he or the lawyer? The prospect of having forever lost something that was a part of his and his experiences immediately began to anger him.

Thankfully, before he could dwell anymore on what the woman had done to them, when she announced another piece of their puzzle. She was holding something back, he knew that, but how much?

>> "What were you working on before we met?...Mutant powers were going off where there were no mutants?"

>> “Wait. What?”[/i]

A veritable encyclopedia of comebacks, that one was, but Jorge had to admit that he was a little surprised by what the woman said as well. She referred to something that he had been working on with the MRC. Though it was still in the very beginning stages, there was a lot of suspicious activity that had been going on in the city lately. Claims of mutant powered individuals causing crimes but by the time the police get there or find the culprit, they appear as much a human as anyone else. None of it made any sense and Jorge was willing to chalk it up to many coincidences but then he…

Wait…why couldn’t he remember that? It was something important. He sighed as he shook his head, realizing that whatever it was he wanted to tell to himself, he had completely forgotten, all thanks to that woman there. What had they stumbled on? And if the woman was to blame for forcing them to forget, why was she handcuffed along with them? Did she betray someone? Or was this simply a ruse?

He shook his head once more as he finally focused on her entirely. “So…you did this us, and now you expect us to just trust you and tell you the last things we were working on?”

His fists clenched, the detective slowly uncurled his fingers as he looked down at his wet clothes and began to manipulate as much of the water off of them as he could and let it slosh down on the ground. It was still cold, but at least they were drier…and it was better than risking hypothermia. With a sigh he marched past them and headed back towards the highway.

“Absolutely insane. I’m hitching back to the city.” he shook his head as he turned a sharp eye to the woman. “I don’t trust you. You’re just as much a suspect as whoever put us in the back of that truck.” With that he turned his back on them and headed back towards the sporadic sounds of traffic. He was not going to reveal anything more to that woman, at least not under he knew what side she was playing in all this.

"You heard me." She growled at the Lawyer. She hated repeating herself.

And then the cop had to go and throw a hissy fit.

"Fine! Tell each other and not me for all I care. I've just told you what I was working on you geniuses have at it." She shivered into her coat which hurt more than helped. He was acting like a little girl. True, nobody reacted well to the knowledge that someone had taken a piece of their puzzle, but the cop may as well have been shopping in the feminine napkin aisle for how hormonal he was acting.

"I didn't have to tell you squat, but I'll tell you this. You won't start to remember anything sooner than an hour. Maybe never. So don't come belly aching to me when we all turn up dead."

With that she put her arms back into her coat with a grunt, stood and started marching away from the road with severe stubbornness. Not that she had a plan or a good reason for doing so beside the fact that the cop was going the opposite direction.

Orange.

Noel stopped. She'd just remembered something orange.

The agent dropped and fished around to check if her ankle pouch was still on her person.

"Hey! Wait!"

As he stood there in the cold, he wasn't sure what had caused the outburst. The cop was walking away, dismissing the one person who might be able to help them. The woman was grumbling and grouchy. Maybe 'pissed off' was a better word. They were both leaving. Despite all Aurum's reservations about this woman, despite how he didn't trust her, or like her, or really trust anyone here... despite all that, he realized that if they all left him now, he'd be in tatters, alone, on the side of the road.

"You two are idiots..." He finished weakly. He could imagine the feel of their stares. "We won't figure out anything if we can't reconstruct our memories... and it'll be easier to get a ride and do that if we're all together. Lord knows, nobody's going to stop for a scar-faced woman and a sopping policeman." And the kind that did? He didn't want to imagine.

>> "I didn't have to tell you squat, but I'll tell you this. You won't start to remember anything sooner than an hour. Maybe never. So don't come belly aching to me when we all turn up dead."

The detective ignored the woman as he stormed away. He really did not care about whatever she thought of him. As far as he was concerned, she was just as dangerous as whoever put them in the situation. If she really had the ability to wipe their minds, then she must have been working for whoever did this. Then again, she really did not have to tell him or the lawyer what she had done. She could have blissfully gone on, pretending that she had had nothing to do with anything that had happened.

The paranoid part of him wanted to take over though. What if she was still pretending now? Trying to win them over by playing the third victim, only to walk all of them into some massive trap?

Jorge chastised himself for that last thought. It was not necessary and there was no reason for it. The truth of the matter was, she did look just as lost as both he and the lawyer were. And he really had no idea where he was going. If he did make it to the road, who would pick him up? In this day and age, who would even believe that he was a police officer? How many horror stories and urban legends have been passed around about the innocent couple picking up a stranded police officer on the side of a dark road, only to have him murder them from the back seat? And on top of that, who was say whoever did happen to stop to pick him up would have been the best of company anyways?

>> "Hey! Wait!...You two are idiots...We won't figure out anything if we can't reconstruct our memories... and it'll be easier to get a ride and do that if we're all together. Lord knows, nobody's going to stop for a scar-faced woman and a sopping policeman."

The detective had almost made it to the tree line. It was also as if the lawyer had been reading his thoughts. The interruption caused the man to stop and lower his head with a sigh. He did not like not being in control of himself. Having his memory wiped only meant that at some point, he had not been in control and he did not like that feeling at all. He also did not like that the lawyer had a point. They had better chances of surviving this whole thing if they did work together…however much he did not trust that woman.

With a small growl he turned back towards them, stood still and eyed them both for a moment before he headed back. As he arrived next to the shivering Aurum, the detective sighed as he held up his hand and pulled as much water from the man’s clothes as he could. They would still be slightly damp, but at least it should help him not freeze so much. Once he was done, he let the excess water drop to the ground before he began to speak.

“MRC has been getting calls. Lots of calls recently about mutants running amok in the city. By the time we get there, though, the accused ‘mutants’ seemed to either have been depowered or framed.” he said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and simply stood there. “First incident I can recall was a while ago. MRC received a 9-1-1 call some mutant burning people up with her hands. I attempted to arrest, but because of unforeseen circumstances, she died. No evidence of her being a mutant prior of the incident was ever found.”

She scratched her neck and came back with a mixture of dried blood and dirt under her nails. That was utterly depressing. The brunette glanced over her shoulder at the cop and lawyer who were now chatting. Well, the cop was chatting at the lawyer. She had told them they could talk among themselves.

Her ankle pouch was empty. Empty except a little bit of metal stuck in orange plastic. Noel pulled a locker key from her ankle pouch. It was the only thing in there which was weird, but then again missing her gun and wallet and phone was weirder. It wasn't like the pouch was a secret, but... it was empty... except for this. That meant someone knew to take everything else and again, specifically left only this.

Feeling suddenly insecure, she had half a mind to check if her tattoos were still there. But there wasn't really a need for that. Tattoos were tattoos and tattoos were forever. They were supposed to be there whether you wanted them to be or not.

Instead she traced the marker ink on her moist skin. Little stained rolls of epidermis came up with the motion. The writing on her arms was her own. That wasn't surprising to her, but... usually her notes were only to herself. She would write something like "they" knew too much. The fact that she wrote the word "you" meant that she too had found something she shouldn't have. That with the key meant she really had done this. She had done it all. To all of them. Even to herself.

Okay. One step at a time. She got up and went back to the group. Once she was close, she tossed the key toward the cop. It was likely that he knew what that was considering the kinds of people he dealt with on a daily basis.

"I don't know if we should look into this." She didn't look happy about her conclusion or the fact that she was sharing it. "I mean, I don't think we should get into the reason why we might be here. That line of investigation is likely what lead to a warning like this one." Because that is what this was. A warning.

"Let's just... go home. There's gotta be a telephone pole or something so we could make a call. Maybe we can't get a ride, but somebody might let us use their phone." Noel didn't have a soul to call to come pick her up. Nor did she have a car. But that didn't mean these guys didn't.

One nice thing about getting jobs again…real jobs that didn’t involve seedy looking creeps with fast hands and roaming eyes…was that sometimes the models didn’t have to take care of their own transportation. Sometimes, after a reasonably pleasant photoshoot experience, the photographer and director paid for her cab ride home. Riley was eating it up.

Sure, it was just a normal somewhat-smelly New York Cab…and judging by the stains on his shirt the driver had seen his fair share of the city’s hotdog and donut stands…but it was still a ride. It was December now…even the walk to the train or bus was kind of a pain. Instead they were rolling down the road, making nice time towards her place and Riley was watching happily out the window looking at things, the shoot had been somewhere outside the city proper and Riley had to assume that the ride was much nicer by cab.

They’d just driven by a small lake on the stretch of highway the cab was travelling by, when something caught Riley’s eye. Something that made her turn around backwards in her seat and stare for a moment before instructing the driver to stop. Something he did with a massive grumble and a comment that the meter was going to keep running.

”Like I care…” Riley intoned, then instructed the guy to back up. Yes, she knew it was a highway, no she really didn’t think she was a flakey broad, and yeah she really was considering picking up the hitchhikers they’d apparently just driven by. She’d recognized one of them…at least she thought so…it was dark…but sometimes, you just knew.

They approached, and Riley rolled down the window. Yup. She knew one of them…the one in the tattered clothing.

”I thought you said you weren’t a stripper.” Riley said, with raised eyebrows and a glance at his companions, ”This looks like some bad trip…”

(( OOC: The posting order is now Aurum, then Jorge, then Noel, then Riley. ))

That helped. Both the removal of extra water, and the cop coming back. Maybe he wasn't a complete idiot. Just an angry old man. Old, as in over 30. Practically ancient.

Scarface didn't want to find out more about the why in the question of why they were here. She wanted to give up.

"I don't give up," Aurum stated simply. He hadn't. Not since he'd seen what certain people were capable of. Not since the creepy guy who'd attacked Ghost. He was a coward, sometimes, but he was a stubborn one. Stubborn enough to stand up to giant red men. So, whatever. Whatever had happened wouldn't happen again. To hell with the people who did it. He wouldn't let it do a repeat. "If we don't figure out the who that goes with the why, there's a chance it'll happen again once they find out we're alive." He continued. "I'm not saying we shouldn't keep a low profile while we're figuring things out."

His face was determined, not blank or confused like it had been. This was one of those things he didn't flake out on, or blame on everyone but himself. They had a real mystery on their hands. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a Ten Little Indians-type scenario.

And then, there were none...

And then, there was one more. Aurum stared at the cab, at the person in the cab, took in the bad joke and the staring all at once, and... for some strange reason, wasn't bothered by any of it.

"Glad to see you, too." He said evenly. "Because we need a ride."

>> "Let's just... go home. There's gotta be a telephone pole or something so we could make a call. Maybe we can't get a ride, but somebody might let us use their phone."[/i]

Despite how much he didn’t like her, the detective had to admit that it was a hell of a good plan. He needed a nice warm bed and a dry set of clothes. He needed to call the precinct to find out what happened, as well as Gemma to make sure that she was okay. Not that he was the possessive type, but the very fact that someone took the time to erase his memory and throw him into the back of a truck, immediately put him on high alert. If he were attacked, what’s to say his loved ones were not as well?

A breath and Jorge pushed all that into the back of his mind as he let the paranoia attempt to seep away. He would have to cross that bridge when he came to it. Worrying about Gemma before he could even get to a phone was no help to him right now.

Then the lawyer found some pent up gumption somewhere in the Kitten-like frame of his that he apparently, absolutely, positively needed to reveal right then and there.

>> "I don't give up… If we don't figure out the who that goes with the why, there's a chance it'll happen again once they find out we're alive..I'm not saying we shouldn't keep a low profile while we're figuring things out."[/i]

As tired as the detective was, it was true that they needed to figure out what happened here and now. They could not waste time sleeping on it, however appealing that might have sounded. He had to agree that the second whoever had them in the back of the truck figured out that they were not dead, they were going to be in for a whole heap of trouble. It would not be hard for their captors to track them back to this place, so it would be best if them managed to get out of here with all swiftness.

But before any formal plans could be made…someone arrived in a taxi.

Convenient he thought to himself.

>> ”I thought you said you weren’t a stripper…This looks like some bad trip…”

>> "Glad to see you, too…Because we need a ride."

Very convenient… he thought to himself. This looks like some bad trip. Her words rebounded in his mind and all he could do was shake his head and mumble…

“You don’t know the half of it.”

For the most part the detective was simply going to keep his mouth shut until they found some answers. It would be better that way, so he could at least keep an eye on both the lawyer and their female counterpart, as well as the new arrival. He was still suspicious of the scar faced woman that had taken their memories, but for now he would try to let those thoughts slide. They were all in this together and more than likely they would have to depend on each other. After all if she did take their memories, they she would be their closest link to getting any of them back.

He gave the memory thief another glance and begrudgingly Jorge reached out and sapped the last of the water from her clothing into a small sphere between them and let it fall with a soundless splash onto the ground. He couldn’t let her die of hypothermia.

With than he turned his attention back to their ride. He hoped this woman could be trusted.

Just when Noel was wondering which car to stop, one stopped on its own. Aaaaaand then it backed up. A woman called out to their kitten and he responded in kind.

She couldn't help herself. Noel glanced over at the cop. "He's a little too comfortable answering the call." Didn't she hear 'stripper' come out of that woman's mouth? Lawyer on call? Stripping lawyer for hire? She had assumed when he said lawyer that he meant that he was legitimate. He hadn't said what he was working on. Only she and the cop had. "She a client of yours, Kitten?"

Something tugged at her sleeve and she looked back. The cop had a sphere of water that splorched to the ground between them. Her clothes almost felt warm again. Noel was touched.

"I didn't expect anything from you." After what she had done... she'd been expecting worse. "I mean Thank-Thank you."

Now she was just confused.

But it didn't really matter. It was a cab. This would be like sharing fare with any other New Yorker. Only... four ways which hypothetically made it better because it'd be cheaper.

Noel waited her turn to clamber into the cab only to find it full up in the back by the time it was her turn. The cabby hesitated but with great grumbling and moaning, did open up the front passenger seat for her.

"So where to?" The cabby asked Noel but Noel looked to the back. She was starting to get a wicked headache.

Good God…there were more of them. Riley had sort of seen some other people when she’d ordered the cabbie to back up…but this was kind of ridiculous. Apparently the golden boy had taken an entourage on his bad trip into the middle of nowhere…but hey, at least he was glad to see her.

…because he needed a ride.

”I’ll just bet you do.” she said, lips pursing together as she checked out the little group. They were definitely worse for wear, that was for sure. The chick, whoever she was, had something snarky to say to Aurum…and called him kitten. Riley was amused, but for some reason it wasn’t as fun when someone else was talking trash on the golden-boy.

Riley’s eyes returned to Aurum and she looked him over again…then she sighed, ”This is so worth more than a coffee and a donut.” she muttered, then made her way to the far side of the back seat. They’d have to work everything else out..and as the cabbie muttered, Riley fished around in her purse for a 20 and threw it at the front seat. That was like…four hot dogs at a good stand and the guy shut his trap as the snarky woman climbed into the front seat...then looked to the back for directions, ”Someone tell him where to go...this is obvoiusly not my cab anymore” Riley commanded, wondering exactly when the cab had gotten so crowded.

Probably when Aurum had slid in next to her, and the other guy next to him. Suddenly, Riley became great friends with the door…and the lawyer as other guy pulled door shut and the cab started moving.”Oh for the love of god…” she muttered, trying to shift into a less constrictive position, ”What the hell is this?” she said with a mild glare in Aurum’s direction, ”I was having a good night.”

>>"She a client of yours, Kitten?"

Aurum glanced back at Scarface, said nothing, and let it die. His focus returned to Riley. It seemed she had a witty comment for everything.

"Yeah," He agreed. "I owe you."

There was something nice about not letting the wit bother him. For some reason, he felt like they'd come to terms with it... not that he knew how. Aside from the romance novel conversation he'd had the other day with her, there wasn't much he knew of that would actually give her impetus to help him like this.

He stowed the worrying about just why he wasn't bothered by it (not that there were worries, mind you), and made his way into the back seat. He slid across to the middle chair, clicked the buckle, and fastened him in next to her. Scarface took shotgun up front. The cop was on his other side. It wasn't cozy. It was a tight fit.

Aurum suddenly realized Riley was wearing makeup, and a nice enough outfit to notice different from the day-to-day. Certainly not the worst seat company. The nagging question of their familiarity slipped further into the back of his mind.

Maybe he'd gotten her number after all, and he just wasn't able to recall the date? That was a weird thought. Awkward, even. But then again, this whole situation was.

To reiterate a point, it was crowded. Riley complained. It was pretty damn complain-worthy. She didn't look happy... but... nobody had told the cab driver where to go yet, though, so... Aurum rattled off his address, momentarily avoiding the wave of questions behind Riley's look.

He didn't care if it was out of the way from the rest of the people in the cab's final destination. If they needed to regroup, his place was as good as any. Although, what if it was under surveilance? Hadn't he just gotten through warning the others to keep a low head?

Dammit.

"Scratch that." He killed cab motion. The cabbie looked at him like he was a crazy person, hands fastened like plastic ties to the wheel.

Aurum turned back to Riley, apolgetic look on his face. "Give him your address? We're kind of in a bad situation here... but I can explain!" He waited exactly one second, then added an emphatic "Please."

>> "I didn't expect anything from you…I mean Thank-Thank you."

“Don’t mention it.”

To the detective it was a relatively small gesture for him to accomplish. Dry clothes were one of the few easy enough perks for him due to his mutation. But he could see why the woman would have been surprised by the move. After all, he had pretty much called her a liar and put part of the blame on her for this whole incident. It was no wonder she expected nothing more than a sneer and an angry attitude from him for the rest of their time together. This was not the time for it though, even the detective could see that. They needed cooperation and that meant making nice.

Still, that did not mean he would not keep an eye on her.

Then came the sitting position in the cab. Now, in Jorge’s experience, fitting too many people into a car could be rather painful and ridiculous. Already the situation made him cringe as he looked at the cab and tried to mentally place everyone in the most comfortable situations. But that choice was quickly taken from him as people began to pile into the cab.

He shook his head as he watched the newcomer climb off to the corner of one side, while the scarred woman took the passenger seat and the lawyer slid in next to the girl. He paused for a second as he tried to assess their situation. He already did not like the amount of room that was left for him in the back of the car. Never had he liked tight, overly crowded spaces. It was not that he was claustrophobic or anything, it was simply the idea of being that uncomfortable and causing other people discomfort that irritated him. Then again, they really did not have a choice. They needed to get out of there before whoever was transported them realized what happened.

“All right, make way,” he mumbled as he climbed into the car, trying to squeeze in next to the lawyer enough for him to shut the door.

The second he was in the car though, Jorge felt something odd. It was something he usually only felt when he was around Gemma…his connection to the waters around being cut off. He had gotten used to the sensation around his girlfriend, but it knew she was nowhere around…so where was it coming from. He turned and glanced at the cabbie and then to the woman in backseat with him and lawyer. Could it be from one of them? Did…they also having some type of dampening aura? In all his time Jorge had only met one of two mutants with the same power…what was going on here? He would have to question it later.

>> ”Oh for the love of god…What the hell is this? I was having a good night.”

Jorge muttered a small apology for taking up as much room as he did, but at least they were able to close the door. Still though, as he sat there and glanced around, he had a new found respect for clowns and the driving conditions they were sure to have to endure. Everyone, pressed up together in the backseat, he at least had to be thankful that they were not attempting to drive cross country like this. He had no doubt that a situation like that would have bound in one of them getting shot…then again that might just be how this time would end up.

They were about to go when the lawyer suddenly stopped the cabbie…

>> "Scratch that…Give him your address? We're kind of in a bad situation here... but I can explain!...Please."[/color]

For a moment Jorge was a little surprised by the lawyer telling the man the stop. After all, he expected that he would be the one who would want to just go home after all this. Then again, maybe he had the right idea. After all, these people had their wallets, had seen their IDs and knew where they lived. After discovering that they were gone from that truck, it would not take them long to assume that they would try to head to their homes first. He sighed, really not liking any of these options, especially not pulling an innocent bystander in on all of this.

Still though, it did not seem as if she and the lawyer had that close of a relationship, therefore she would under the radar of whoever had them. He wanted to chuckle but he managed to stay stone faced and did not intervene in their conversation. Of all their options, she was the safest for now.

He glanced at the woman in the front seat again. She obviously the held keys to what was going on, but apparently she must have felt the effects of whoever had the nulling powers as well. He leaned forward and spoke to her in the front seat, “You okay? You feel that too?” he asked, referring to the lack of abilities. Then his mind flashed back to his own musings…

Keys…

He was still listening if she managed to reply to his question, but in the meantime he fished around into his pocket and pulled out the small, orange key that the woman had tossed him earlier. He had no idea what she had done that, but instead of throwing it away, he kept it. Now that he was thinking about it, though, it was obvious that this key held some kind of importance…but what could it be.

The detective held it between his fingers as he looked it over in the dim light of the cab, casting a glance at the woman in the front seat and to the lawyer. It looked familiar. He had seen these types of keys before but where? Then it came to him as he fished around in his memories, looking for any and every opportunity when he had use for a key. In college, whenever he went into the bookstore, they would make him lock up his backpack into lockers to keep students from stealing textbooks; while working vice there was a bust which involved a guy storing his wares in a bus terminal locker. In each of those situations, he either saw or handled a key that looked exactly like this.

“Its…a locker key…” he mumbled more to himself than anyone. He then flipped it around and began to look for a serial number. “If we can trace the serial number for this key, it may give us a place to start…”

Noel put her cool hands on her head. "Yeah. I feel it." And it was interesting that he knew the feeling. Adapteds weren't that common, even if they had one of the densest populations here in New York because of RUPERT... which got her thinking. Did all these people find out about RUPERT?

She reached for her phone- oh wait, her wallet... ugh. Noel let her head fall back against the head rest. All of her usual crutches were gone. Lightning studded pain crackled through her brain. It felt like her mind was one of those "grow your own dinosaur" things and now in the presence of an adapted, someone had dropped a little water on there. Her brain felt like it was expanding and un-wrinkling. Everything was unfolding and there might not be room for all of it. She had written new information over some of the old and now some of that old information was trying to resurface.

"The one car that stops out of all the others and we had to get one with an adapted inside." Noel's suspicion was on the cabbie. He was far too aloof for her tastes. Besides, the girl in the back acted all human at the other human.

She was starting to remember things now. The cop's badge went into a black duffel. She had ferreted away the Lawyer's wallet and that went in too. Oh geez. She was in so deep. How was she not the bad guy here? The agent felt so ashamed. Some things were better left unremembered. But she had to stick this out. If for no other reason than the fact that she wanted to prove to herself that she wasn't the bad guy. Surely she had her reasons...

Noel didn't care where they were going anymore. She twisted around in her seat (which was killing her back) and looked at the cop. "You got a guy who can trace that?" It was the one thing they all had left and for a show of good faith she had given it away.