She couldn’t believe that she was actually doing this. Tara shrugged her coat in tighter around her, pulling against every inch of her body against the cold wetness, as she made her way into the hospital. Rain dripped down her back, on her hair, and got into her eyes, blinding her as she made her way into the bright hospital. Cars honked at her for her to get out of the way as she made her way in. She waved in an apology before going inside. 

The receptionist, a kindly, elderly woman, waved her through, not even bothering to check to see who she was. She knew who she was. They all did, and they all felt pity for her. Tara sucked in her cheeks as she made her way onto the elevator. She didn’t need anyone’s pity. In fact, she felt pity for any of those who pitied her. They didn’t see the demon scratching at the surface of her stomach. She gently pressed the floor she needed to go to and the elevator began to ascend without anyone else getting on. Flash flickered as the elevator passed them and she leaned carefully against the back of the elevator, her aching feet pulsing from being stood on too long.

The noticeable bulge in her side was worrisome to some of the nurses and doctors as she exited the elevator, but when she opened up her coat and flashed the glimmering gold badge on the inside, they calmed down quite a bit and scurried off. She narrowed her eyes as they hurried off, but she didn’t pursue any course of action. She wasn’t active duty today. At least, she hoped she wasn’t. She could be called into work at any time and unfortunately she would have to take it. Due to the budget cuts at the precinct, they were down a few cops and detectives.  

Doctor Killian Addler, a rising star in the New York Area, stood outside the specific door that she was fearful to go into, but wanted to all the same. Clutching a clipboard in his slim, healing hands, he looked up at her as she approached. His handsome face grim, he looked her with sorrowful pale eyes and shook his head. That was all he needed to do to convey the message of what question was on her heart. Biting her lower lip, she brushed passed him, touching his shoulder gently, went into the room and looked at the pale, stiff body on the bed with so many tubes and bandages attached to it. In other cases, the person on the bed would have looked like she was sleeping, and Tara would have known it, because all while they grew up, Tara knew how her sister slept. Long black hair was thrown over the pale, milky white pillow. Porcelain skin was glittering under the pale lights. A lone beeping sound could be heard throughout the room. 

No tears entered her eyes as she walked over to replace the old, dried up daisies with the fresh roses she had picked earlier in the week. The vase sat in the back of the bed, teetering slightly on the edge. She gently pushed it back before pulling a chair closer to look at Eliza. Tara brushed the hair out of her elder sister’s face and took a deep breath before pulling off her large, tan trench coat and draping it over the back of a chair. Unbeknownst to anyone else here or anywhere, her sister’s “uniform” was tucked in her laptop case on her hip, just waiting to be used again, which it would be, once the weather cleared up. She had to keep up appearances so no blame for Ghostess would fall on Eliza, though she hated going against what she believed. She needed to keep everyone in the dark, even her own boss and work. She set her laptop case down in the chair next to her and slowly sank into the plushy softness.

Leaning over, she kissed her sister’s forehead. Her skin was cold, almost as if she was a corpse in the bed, but Tara knew better. She tucked the bedsheets around her tighter, right when she got a call on her phone. Sitting back in the chair she pulled up, she pulled it out and said bluntly, “Carson.”

“[i]Hey, Tara. The Chief wants three units down at the Morgan Library and Museum. They think that’s where Ghostess will strike next and they’re trying to figure out what she will take. You down?[/i]” the voice, belonging to her beat cop friend Melissa Manni, said. Tara looked over at her sister’s comatose form and sighed, pressing two slim fingers to the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath. The blood red nails flickered in the dim lighting. 

“Of course,” she said, standing back up. She had only been here for about two minutes. Work always got in the way of her visits here for some reason, but she knew she could never turn them down, especially when her sister’s persona was involved in some way, shape, or form. “I’ll be down there in a jiff. I’m at the hospital right now.”

There was a heartbeat of silence on the other end of the phone before Melissa asked, “[i]How’s she doing?[/i]” 

Shrugging her jacket back up onto her shoulders and pulling her laptop bag over the top of her head, Tara began making her way back out, the slim Samsung still pressed to her ear. She stalked down the hallway, tall and confident, but her heart was beating in her throat. She nodded to Doctor Killian again.  “Heart’s still beating and she has a steady breathing pattern, so she should still be fine. I just wish it didn’t look as if she were sleeping.”

“[i]Man, that’s rough. I still can’t believe Ghostess shot her. That seems to be the first violent thing that thief has ever done.[/i]”

Gritting her teeth as she pressed the button to the elevator, Tara responded rather stiffly, “Yeah, well, we don’t know a lot about Ghostess all the same. Listen, Mel, I need to get going. I’ll talk to you when I get there, a’ight?” 

“[i]Alright. Seen you soon.[/i]” The phone line went dead and Tara let out a small growl in her throat as she jammed the button for the lobby floor of the hospital. Leaning against the back wall, she began to think about the note left for the Chief, written in the same hand as her sister. She was shocked that the department didn’t already know about the replacement of the Punic artifacts with fakes. The government was replacing the artifacts and reselling the real ones to private collectors for large sums of money to pay off the growing debt to China. It was honestly ridiculous that some people could be so blind. But she needed to keep her mouth shut tonight and hopefully, if the weather was clear tomorrow, it would be an easy steal. 

Dodging out of the elevator and trudging through the rain to her unit, she quickly slipped inside, but not before shaking herself off to where she wouldn’t get hypothermia from how cold she actually was. She immediately turned up the heater in her car, warming her hands up, before pulling out of the parking lot and heading down the main street to 3rd so she could get to the museum. She immediately pulled onto the street and was greeted by two cop cars and another undercover unit. 

She pulled to a park next to them and slipped on some of the medical gloves she kept in her glove compartment. Leaving her laptop bag in her passenger seat, she quickly got out of her car and hurried over to the museum, flashing her badge to the officer posted outside the door. He dipped his head to her and she walked inside and was immediately greeted by Melissa. The short little blond tossed her hair out of her face and quickly gave the low down on what was going on. 

Tara, only half listening since she knew most of the information, scanned the room, eyeing security cameras and any forms of added security. The displays were noticeably protected, but these were not the displays she needed to see. Melissa led her down to the basement. She coughed as dust filled the room and waved her hand in front of her face. This was what she needed to see. The Italian artifacts were not well protected. She would be able to get in here easily and get out just the same. 

“[i]… and Detective Charlot and the Chief will be arriving shortly,[/i]” Melissa said, ending her spiel, and this made Tara freeze. 

“Detective Charlot will be here? Then why call me in?” Tara asked, glaring at Melissa.

“[i]The Chief wanted you specifically. He thought you and Matthias would make a good team! Of course, Matthias is his son… Why are you looking at me like that?[/i]”  

“Don’t worry about it,” Tara growled, before starting to pretend to examine the artifacts. This was going to be a lot more difficult than she thought, especially if that douchebag of a detective was on the case…