It was a simple matter for Damien to hitch a ride back to "The House" with Detective Angie Jordan-Hill. There are a few advantages to being a ghost.

The Criminal Investigative Division, which includes the Homicide unit, is located on the third floor of the Atlanta Police Headquarters at 226 Peachtree St SW. As they entered a large room, Angie was met by a young man who barely looked like he passed the APD minimum hiring age of twenty.

"We got a pop on facial recognition."

Angie rewarded him with a brief smile as she took the printout, "Thanks Andy."

She crossed the room and slid into a chair at a cluttered desk, tapping on her computer to wake it as she looked at the paper in her hand.

Damien stepped up behind her to read over her shoulder. The top half of the page showed two pictures.The camera caught a profile of him entering a shop and then a headshot as he came out. A paragraph below the pictures identified the shop as being watched under Georgia's Human Trafficking law, OCGA 16-5-46. Additional information advised that the subject was followed to the Ellis Hotel on Peachtree Street, where he had registered as Peter Berwick.

The information originated with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, dated just 2 days ago. There was a notation that it had been forwarded to the ATL SVU unit.

Damien did not remember any of it.

"Good work Andy." Angie looked around to see who was available. "Joey, contact the GBI and SVU. See if he has popped up anywhere else. Andy, run his name through the system, and check with the FBI on our IAFIS request. Why is it taking so long?" Angie opened a desk drawer and retrieved her service weapon. "Sandy, you are with me. We will be at the Ellis"

Damien did not join them. He had his eye on Angie's computer. Sitting at her desk, he tried to use the mouse but quickly realized he could not move it. He next tried to type on her keyboard with similar results. Frustrated, he slammed his hand down on the keyboard. The cursor jumped.

Damien tried pushing every key but could not get the cursor to move again. He sat there for a moment, looking at the laptop. Then he reached over with his right hand and dragged a finger across the trackpad. The blinking arrow followed his motion.

Delighted, he dragged the cursor to a file on the desktop and tapped. The file opened. "Maybe It's some sort of magnetic attraction," he thought. Whatever it was, he didn't care. He looked around to make sure no one was close enough to see the computer screen, closed the file he had just opened, and began to explore.

He learned a lot about Angie, but not very much about his case. She had been married, now divorced, no kids. She had a cat and friends in distant cities. He could not find any emails from friends in Atlanta.

He found a folder of pictures and stopped at one of a younger Angie posing with a burly man.

Damien heard a man behind him say, 'That's my girl."

He turned and saw a bulky guy in a suit. The man was looking right at him. "Good work on the computer thing. I never would have thought of that."