The Warrior and the Knight
The characters you recognize are not mine, they belong to their respective companies. All the others are mine.
1995 – Toronto
Kathryn blinked against the fading sunset as it reflected off the bodies of the airplanes. Another city, another airport, but she wasn't moving on this time. Kathryn was here to help, or she hoped she could.
She quickly gathered up her luggage from the carousel, feeling more secure now that she was complete again. Kathryn slung her duffel bag over her left shoulder and grabbed up the small suitcase and long case that contained her sword. Her short, black heeled shoes clicked against the floor as she headed for the nearby rental agency.
Kathryn steeled herself for the task at hand. Either she was about to get some terrible news or needed to do some quick thinking. She pulled the BMW into a parking spot by the police station. She got out of the car, smoothing down imagined wrinkles in her grey pantsuit. She accented her strawberry-blonde hair with a deep green blouse under the blazer. She had to look the part of a successful and benevolent businesswoman, it was the 1990's after all.
Her long black coat hung over her arm, her black purse by her side as she walked through the ornate stone doorway of the 96th Police Precinct. She mentally catalogued the fact that no police station should be this ornate and chalked it up to "urban renewal," using old buildings in new manners to keep the neighborhood's character. She stepped up to the dark wood desk in the front lobby and waited.
After several minutes without the female officer at the desk even looking up from her computer, Kathryn loudly cleared her throat. The mousy looking officer harrumphed and fixed her gaze upon Kathryn.
"May I help you," the officer said in a clipped tone.
"Yes," Kathryn replied. "I'm Alexandra Macdonald. My office received a call from your department regarding one of my employees, Christina Matthews." The officer, who Kathryn could now see had the name Gonzalez pinned to her chest, looked back at her computer and hit a few keys.
"Excuse me a minute, Miss Macdonald." Gonzalez stood up from her desk and looked at Kathryn a moment and then walked through a door behind her. Kathryn let out a built up sigh and looked around her. The blue walls did little to cheer up the chaotic lives around her. She shook her head and looked down at the pale tile floor.
"Well Captain, I understand what you're trying to say-" Nick was interrupted by a knock at the captain's door. Officer Gonzalez stood there waiting expectantly.
"Sorry Captain Cohen, but there's an Alexandra Macdonald out front. She's here about the Christina Matthews case."
Nick stood up from his chair. "That's my case Captain."
"Your's and Schanke's," Captain Amanda Cohen corrected with a knowing look at Nick.
"Of course Captain." Nick Knight shot the captain his innocent smile. The captain shook her head.
"I'm serious Nick," Cohen said as she stood up behind her desk. Everything about her spoke volumes about her seriousness. From her short, no-nonsense black hair to her professional skirt suit without a thread out of place. "This type of murder freaks people out and we have been able to keep the media away from it so far. I want this thing wrapped up pronto."
"Of course."
Kathryn had already catalogued the three easy exits she could take from the lobby of the station and was working on a secondary series of exits when she saw Gonzalez return back from what appeared to a larger room of many desks. Probably the detectives and sergeants hung out there, if she remembered her police stations correctly. She made it a habit to not perpetually frequent them. Too many questions were usually asked within their confines.
"Miss Macdonald," Gonzalez stated.
"Yes?" Kathryn looked at the woman. Gonzalez gestured for Kathryn to come through a door on the other side of the desk.
"If you would just come with me." Kathryn nodded and followed the shorter woman through a maze of desks towards the back of the room. Rather than going through another door, Gonzalez stopped next to a desk almost at the wall. Kathryn followed the officer's gaze to a door where two people were just exiting.
The first was a taller man with brown hair accented with blonde. He wore a grey suit, white French-cuffed shirt and blue vest that highlighted his eyes. There was something almost familiar about him that Kathryn could not put her finger on. It was something about his eyes.
The second person was a shorter asian woman in a smart cream colored suit with a black shirt that seemed to make her look even sterner. Kathryn absently wondered how beautiful the woman would look if she smiled. The woman had an air of authority she carried with her.
"Alexandra Macdonald," the man asked. Kathryn nodded her head yes. He held out his hand. "I'm Detective Knight." She took his hand firmly and shook it. Kathryn made a mental note about how his hand seemed colder than her own. He then gestured to the woman. "And this is Captain Cohen." Kathryn shook hands with the woman also. She too had a firm grip.
"I was contacted by your department about one of my employees, Christina Matthews," Kathryn flatly stated.
"Please have a seat," Detective Knight said as he gestured to a wooden chair next to the desk. Kathryn sat down, her jacket across her lap. "How well did you know Miss Matthews?"
Longer than you would believe, Kathryn thought.
"She had been my employee for several years, and," Kathryn looked down and regained her composure, "we were friends." The detective cleared his throat as he put his right leg up on the corner of the desk, sitting close to Kathryn.
"Miss Matthews was found murdered a couple of days ago," Knight said.
"I figured that's what you were going to say," Kathryn replied. It was as she feared.
"You figured," Cohen questioned her.
"Yes Captain." Kathryn turned her gaze to the woman who remained standing next to Knight. "I get a call from the police about Christina and it is not her. I need to come here and your department is reluctant to spill too much information. I figured I would end up talking to homicide, which I assume you are Detective Knight?"
Knight nodded his head at her.
"I see." Kathryn sat up straight up in the chair. "Are we sure it was murder?"
"Yes," Knight said.
Cohen piped up. "If you don't mind me asking Miss Macdonald, how old are you?"
Kathryn was surprised it took this woman this long to ask. "I am 28 years old." She could see the captain raise an eyebrow. "I basically inherited the company from my father when he passed away several years ago. I have traveled, and have studied in many different countries. I am aware of what is happening."
Cohen and Kathryn stared each other down for a moment and then Cohen turned to Knight. "I'll be in my office if you or Schanke need me. Remember what we talked about." With that Cohen turned around and marched back into her office.
Kathryn let out a sigh. "Detective Knight, I would like to see Christina's body if that is possible. Partly to believe that this is true."
Detective Knight looked back at her with a sympathetic look in his eyes. "Of course, I was hoping you would be up to IDing the body." He looked down at some papers on his desk. "Why was Miss Matthews here in Toronto?"
"Christina, her name was Christina." She's only been a Matthews for the last five years, Kathryn thought. "She took some vacation time and came to Toronto. She wasn't here on business." Kathryn absently tucked a stray piece of her red-blonde hair back behind her ear.
"Do you know why she came here for vacation?"
"No, I'm not sure-" Kathryn suddenly remembered a conversation she had a couple of months ago.
"Good practice session Christy," Kathryn said as she sat down on a nearby bench and rested her sword against it, point down.
"I am so exhausted," Christina said as she dabbed at her face with a towel. "And you barely worked up a sweat!"
"Years and years of practice. I'm from a different time girl."
"Yeah, yeah just keep reminding me." Christina laid her sword down on the ground and sat down with her legs spread out in front of her and began to stretch to loosen up her muscles. She moved her torso until her forehead touched the ground between her legs.
"Yeah, I may be older, but you are definitely more limber!" Kathryn laughed in amazement as she twisted her neck to work out the kinks. They sat for a moment in silence when Christina finally brought her head up and then brought her legs in until she was sitting in a pseudo-yoga position at Kathryn's feet. "What?"
Christina looked up at her. "Do you miss your family?"
"I miss many people, and many I called family."
"No, your family, your original family. Mother, father, cousins?"
"Sisters?" Kathryn sat back against the wall. "Of course. But they are long gone."
"What about descendents?"
"Descendents? Us immortals have very few of those. My family had very few survivors." Kathryn shook her head to clear the bad thoughts away. "Why do you ask?" She looked to Christina for an answer but got none in response. "Did you see someone who looked like they could be related to your family?"
"I... I saw a name and I wondered. I missed seeing them grow old."
"And you missed seeing them die."
"Maybe they are not all dead?"
"Trust me, it would not be worth it. Don't do it to yourself, or to them. Imagine if they saw a ghost from the past, and you had to explain that. It's better to remember them as you do now."
"Miss Macdonald, is there something you remember?"
She turned back to Detective Knight. "No, I was trying to remember if there was anything, but no. Nothing."
"Oh." Knight looked at his notes and made some new notations of his own and then looked back at her. "Is there anyone else from your company in the area?
Kathryn thought a moment. "Just Dominick."
"Dominick?"
"Dominick Castellini. He works for the Foundation also. He's in the area on an arts funding trip. It might bring him to Toronto, but I'm not sure." She looked at Knight and then realized where he was going. "Oh no. Dominick and Christina got along well. Dominick is a good man, he even adopted his wife's two little boys."
"Okay, I'll take your word on it. Perhaps we should go ID Christina's body and get that done with."
"Sure, I'll follow you in my car. In case you need to leave, getting stranded at the morgue is not my idea of fun."