An FBI Story: Season One, Episode One.

Episode One: The End -- Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Woods walked into Forensics, the workplace of Clary Brightcliffe and Braylen Mabior. The pair were the only people who worked in the lab, so they were usually swamped. Clary was fair skinned and had straight, blond hair. He had been working forensics in that lab for the past three years. Braylen was tall, black, and had short, dark hair. He had only been working there for a little over a year. The two men had known each other for over twenty years. They had met as children at Lara Coelho Pacheco's fifth birthday party. The three of them had been almost inseparable ever since the party and were still quite close, even as adults.

"You find anything?" Woods walked over to Clary's desk, which was unoccupied since Clary was walking around the lab doing lab work. There weren't very many pictures on Clary's desk, just one of him, Lara, and Braylen from high school, and another of him and his girlfriend.

"There was gunshot residue on him, which means that he was shot from a close distance," Clary told him. He spoke with a slight lisp, which wasn't as noticeable as he thought it was.

"Any matches to the bullet?" Woods asked.

"It came from a .45 ACP pistol, most likely an M1911A1." Braylen handed him the report.

"Security cam footage?" Woods threw the report onto Clary's desk before rubbing his eyes.

"It doesn't cover the alley," Clary replied, as Braylen picked up the report off the desk and filed it away.

"Do you have anything?" Woods asked. "Why am I here?"

"We didn't call you down," Clary told him. "We don't have anything."

"Oh," Woods realized. He furrowed his brow. "Well... good luck." He shook his head slightly, then left the lab. Braylen looked over at Clary.

"He shouldn't be here," he stated. Clary shook his head in agreement. Woods took the elevator to Autopsy, which was in the basement, and Lara's workplace. She was in the middle of the autopsy on Mikal Barrett.

"Woods," she observed, when she saw him. "What brings you to my humble abode?" There was a lot of blood on her gloves.

"Mikal Barrett," Woods responded. He leaned on the door frame instead of entering the room. He couldn't help but picturing Mason on that table, cut open, missing organs. Lara had done Mason's autopsy and Woods had made the mistake of watching.

"Ah, yes, Mikal Barrett," Lara said. "It was the point-blank gunshot wound to his chest that killed him." She gestured at Woods to come in, but he held up his hand in refusal. Lara didn't push it.

"When did he die?" Woods asked. The body on the table isn't Mason, Woods thought. Mason's hair is darker.

"Around 5:00 this morning," Lara replied. The body on the table isn't Mason, Woods thought. Mason's skin is darker.

"Anything else?" Woods questioned. The only time that I've ever seen Mason almost that pale, he thought, was after he was dead... during the autopsy. He almost threw up on the floor, and he would have if he had eaten anything recently.

"I'm not done the autopsy yet," Lara told him. "I'll call you if I find anything, but don't hold your breath. This killer was experienced." Woods nodded.

"Okay, thanks," he replied, making his way out of Autopsy. He couldn't get away fast enough.

* * *

"Nope," Sam stated, walking back over to Blaine from a food truck. "No vegan options here, either." Sam had been vegan for most of her life. Her biological father had raised her and her eight paternal half-siblings on a strict, vegan diet – a diet which Sam continued to that day. Blaine looked at the food truck, skeptically.