The sheriff knelt down and pulled up the recessed handle from the trap door in the floor of the spacious kitchen. The room was spotlessly clean and the polished metal appliances had the crisp professional look of a high class restaurant. The trap door sat against the back wall near the heavy metal door that led into the enormous walk-in freezer. The whole arrangement seemed shockingly modern compared to the rest of the house. Sato suspected the room had been recently renovated given the pervasive scent in the air that reminded her of walking through hardware stores with her father when she was young. Those trips had always made her inexplicably light headed and she could still feel it now. 

Hammond looked down the open hatch to the steep wooden staircase that led down into the wine cellar. Her eyes darted back and forth across the darkness filling the room. 

“Emily...?” She called out searching for her lost deputy. When no reply came she stood and made her way back into the hallway. “Emily!” she called again. Her face wrinkled as again no reply was forthcoming. 

“Perhaps she’s in the bathroom?” Sato offered. 

“Yeah.” Hammond craned her head around to look down the empty hallway. “I’ll get her, if you don’t mind.” 

Sato painted on her most relaxed and recurring smile. “It’s not a problem at all.” 

She followed Hammond in turning the corner and they began combing the spacious halls. Heavy wooden doors with antique locks dotted the hall, the sheriff refused to heed them as she strode past. 

Sato however stepped casually studying the finery that filled the space. It felt more as if she was stepping through some carefully preserved heritage site like Mt Vernon rather than someone's home. 

The faux lanterns hanging about, once real and probably fueled by oil, had been replaced by expensive looking electric replicas. 

Large paintings hung between rooms, most were of serene land or seascapes. The kind of thing you’d see hanging in a museum but not something a frugally minded person would ever consider owning. She had to wonder if it mattered if these paintings were ever seen or if their presence alone was their purpose. She had a hard time imagining Helen Kessler taking the time to walk these halls and appreciate all the works of art she had left placed about. Assuming their placement was her will and that they weren’t simply left hanging by those long gone by the relentless march of time. 

Sato brought herself back into the moment. The paintings only had the meanings she ascribed to them, they, like all things, were inherently without purpose. Contemplating them further would not be productive. 

The sheriff had disappeared from view and while attempting to listen for her heavy footsteps Sato picked up on muffled noises coming from one of the rooms near her. It took some experimentation to track the faint noise but she eventually tracked the sound to a closed wooden door. She brought her head as close to the door as she could but the noise was still too faint to adequately decipher. 

Sato instinctively attempted to place a hand on her side arm, but her hand passed through empty air as she recalled leaving it with Helen Kessler. Sato took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves, steeling herself as she lightly rapped her knuckles on the door. The thick wood hurt to knock on and she suspected allowed very little sound through. There was no reply after a long moment, and after confirming this was indeed the source she tried again even harder. 

Nothing, Sato placed her hand on the long door handle and it slid down silently but didn’t budge when she tried to push it open. She braced her shoulder against the smooth surface and pushed with all her might. Once the door was free of the frame it flew forward quickly, the sudden flurry of motion and sound startled Sato as she stumbled into the dark room beyond. 

A woman’s voice shrieked in surprise and there was a blur of motion as a figure shot out of the darkness coming right toward her. With no time to think, Sato's body reacted for her, grabbing her opponent's arm and using her momentum to slam her into the door-frame. 

The figure hit the wood with a frightening crack and Emily Harrington fell down onto the shockingly messy floor. Sato blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness where she found a young woman, naked from the waist down surrounded by a sea of garbage. Sato pinched her side to assure herself that her medication was working. 

“What the fuck.” the woman complained, crossing her arms indignantly. “Trying to get laid here...”

“My apologies.” Sato gave the woman a slight bow. “Agent Sato, I work for Interpol.” Officer Harrington groaned, holding her head as she staggered to her feet. 

“Piece of-” She struck the frame of the door with her fist and instantly regretted it. “Gah! Son of a bitch!” She cupped her hand protectively and swore under her breath. Sato returned her attention to the young woman who was buttoning up her shorts. 

“I don’t believe I caught your name.” Sato reached out a hand to her open palm for a friendly handshake. The girl took it and used it instead as leverage to pull herself to her feet. 

“...Krys.” She muttered, making small adjustments to her outfit. 

“Well. It's wonderful to meet-” Beer cans clattered about as Sato’s left boot disturbed a precarious mound, causing her to momentarily stumble. The pungent smell that pervaded the room only intensified closer to the ground. 

Sato quickly composed herself if only to allow her to breathe without wanting to tear her own nose out. A quick scan of the room to help her navigate revealed only more trash, a smattering of drug paraphernalia and discarded sex toys. 

Emily Harrington groaned headily as she regained consciousness. She pulled herself up to a sitting position bleary eyed as if waking from an especially heavy nap. She felt around her uniform slacks and pulled out a small plastic container. She shook several breath mints into her hand and cursed as several dropped to the floor. She popped one in her mouth and was trying to carefully squeeze the others back inside when her eyes suddenly fluttered and she whirled around to stare at Agent Sato. With a sudden burst of adrenaline she grabbed the other woman by the wrist and pulled her out into the hallway, a cacophony of detritus left in their wake. 

Emily whirled around breathing heavily when she finally stopped. 

“That ain't- that ain’t what it looked like.” Emily sputtered, her body shaking badly. “Was just some... yoga is all.” 

Sato made no effort to feign belief; she just rolled her hand in a manner to prompt her to continue. 

Emily had never claimed to be the most clever individual on the planet but she knew when someone had her dead to rights. Everything she had built for herself since becoming an adult was on the line and she knew it. She folded her hands in a sign of submission. 

“Look… I...” She fumbled over her words. “Please don’t tell the Sheriff about this. I swear I’ll...” 

Sato’s expression was impassive and unreadable. If she was laughing or grinning or glaring that would have been something. Would have given her some clue about how to approach her but Sato’s face remained an enigma. Not knowing what to do only made the deputies' hearts race faster. 

“Please… whatever it is I can....” Emily tried to look the agent in the eyes and regretted it instantly. Something about them was totally and disturbingly wrong. They left an unnatural emptiness in the pit of her stomach. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and some base instinct told her to run away. Whatever fear she’d had of the agent revealing her secret was wholly drowned out by the bone splintering terror she felt for the woman herself. 

Harrington found herself soaked in sweat, her thoughts so consumed with fright she found her body heavy and difficult to move. She couldn’t run away. She could feel the frigid hands of the reaper tighten around her throat. 

Then it was gone. The gut wrenching panic vanished in an instant leaving behind only the fresh taste of mint from the candy she’d been sucking on. Emily avoided the agent’s gaze as she struggled to remember where they’d been in the conversation. 

“Eh… like I said...” The Deputy crossed her arms to stall for time. “...If… if there’s anything you want...” 

“I wish only to return home.” Sato allowed a wicked grin to tease at the edge of her lips. “All I ask is that you help me solve this case as quickly as possible.” 

Emily stood still slowly processing. “Alright... Well... I might know somethin’...” 

Sato cocked an eyebrow. “You were together that night?” 

Emily flinched. “Yeah… She’d just fallen asleep when I heard it. The drill that is.” 

She slid her hands in her pockets and looked down at the open neck of her shirt that exposed the black frills of her undergarments to the world. She quickly buttoned up and tucked in her uniform top. She blushed, unable to look Sato in the eye.

“I… I also heard voices. I couldn’t find where the noise was comin’ from, didn’t know about the trap door in the kitchen… but I heard a man givin’ orders. Can’t say I recognized his voice though.”

Sato tapped a summary into her phone and looked up at the uncomfortable deputy. “Were they speaking English?”

Emily blinked. “Course the were what else-”

Sato interrupted her.

“Clover’s gang primarily use French or Japanese. In addition none of her gang members are men.”

Emily scoffed, “Well maybe she got some hired help.”

Sato thumbed her chin. “Possible.. but highly unlikely.”

Sato amended her notes and smiled innocently. “Thank you, Deputy. I believe I have all I need now.”