Title: Twister City - 1x10 "A Star, A Star" (1/2)
Author: Kay Seda
Rating: PG
Summary: The members of the Topeka Police Department celebrate the holidays (in their own way).
Disclaimer: Tin Man and the city of Topeka are not mine.
A/N: Yes, I know it's June. And yes this is where I started going nuts with the "I'm writing a TV show!" aspect.
VOICE OVER (TUDOR): Previously, on "Twister City."
(SCENE: Rawlins' office.)
CAIN: We're still looking for a place to stay.
LEFEVRE: I've got room!
PRAEDLYN: He really does.
(Series of shots of Wyatt and Jeb moving into LeFevre's stately Victorian home, followed by a bunch of shots of them all coping with each other.)
(SCENE: Cain's car, driving LeFevre home.)
CAIN: You're going to have to grow up sooner or later, you can't treat life like it's-
LEFEVRE: Wyatt, you have no idea what I've been through.
(Shot of Cain looking over the crime scene photos from the Washburn lab incident; cut to Katy Gailman making pancakes in the kitchen, Cain staring at her in shock.)
VOICE OVER (LAVENDER QUEENLY-GAILMAN): Your sister has done more than enough damage to this family.
(SCENE: Gailman family dinner with Lavender, William, and Dorothy in attendance.)
LAVENDER: The last thing we need is this relationship of yours getting out.
(Shot of Dorothy looking forlorn, cut to SCENE: Dorothy and Rawlins at the Hilltop Cafe way outside of town.)
DOROTHY: Mom's on to us.
RAWLINS: Just have to stay one step ahead.
(Dorothy grins, BLACKOUT to episode title card: "A Star, A Star")
Teaser
The basement light clicked on and a pair of feet clad in red socks padded down the bare wooden steps. Ambrose LeFevre paused at the bottom, took a deep breath of musty air and sighed it back out.
"What did I come down here for," he wondered. With a frown he set out to investigate shelves filled with the most spectacular assembly of junk. "No, no, no," he muttered occasionally, until he was distracted by a couple of boxes whose dust layer was still forming. Both of them were labeled "Christmas," which was baffling since he'd taken all the holiday stuff out right after Thanksgiving.
LeFevre pried open the top box and stared at the contents for a moment before comprehension dawned.
"Someone down here?" a voice called.
Hastily LeFevre closed the cardboard flaps again. "Me!" he shouted back and, mission temporarily forgotten, picked up the box.
Wyatt Cain scowled at him from halfway down the steps. "You waste heat leaving the door open like that. I know it's your house but the bill's half mine."
"Sorry, Dad," LeFevre replied, then held his burden out accusingly. "You guys didn't tell me you had decorations, I'd've gotten you a tree."
Cain stared at the box. "That's... nice of you, but don't-"
"I'm getting you a tree. This is as much your home as mine." With that he slid past Cain on the narrow stairs, box held high over their heads. Cain winced.
"LeFevre-"
"We're off the clock, Wyatt."
"...Ambrose, tomorrow's Christmas Eve, what kind of tree do you expect to get?"
LeFevre grinned down at him from the doorway. "An ugly scrawny one that just needs a little love. Now get up here, you're letting the heat out."
Glaring, Cain stomped up the stairs and hit the light switch.
o
Across town, a phone rang. A clock radio was picked up, set down, a bedside lamp was turned on, and a rumpled Dorothy Gailman picked up the receiver.
"Hello?" she said, voice heavy with sleep. There was a particular silence on the other end of the line, and she smiled. "Hi."
"Hello," came the soft reply. "Woke you up. Sorry."
"S'okay," she said, even as a yawn betrayed her. "I can konk out again, no big deal." She found herself twirling a bit of her hair around her finger and stopped abruptly with a frustrated sigh. "I wish I could see you tomorrow, or on Christmas, but mom's got me tied up. This'll have to do, unless you thought of something."
"Tenth and Clay." There was another brief pause. "Six o'clock."
Dorothy frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "That's right in town, Raw, not exactly the best place for a clandestine get-together."
"It's for a good cause."
After a moment's thought she grinned. "I'll be there."
"With bells on?"
"Just for you."
o
Throughout the city last minute purchases were being made, and outside one retail giant a charity worker was ringing a bell to encourage people to drop a little cash in his pot. He glanced down, checked his watch, and looked up again to find himself being stared at by a young boy of about ten with shaggy dark blond hair. The charity worker frowned and tilted his head, then blinked when the boy mirrored the pose.
"Can I help you?" he asked and let his bell fall silent.
"No," the boy said and shook his head. "I'm fine. Just waiting for my dad."
That was an acceptable answer, so the man nodded and resumed his ringing. "Is he shopping?" The boy nodded. "Getting a present for your mom?"
The boy shook his head. "No."
"Colin!" a new voice called, and a man with long, receding dark hair jogged up to them. He sighed in relief as he approached the boy. "I told you to wait by the other door, away from the street."
"Sorry," Colin muttered with a shrug.
"It's okay," his father said, and glanced quickly at the charity worker before turning away. "Thanks for watching him."
"More like he was watching me," the other man remarked. He frowned when he noticed the boy's father was empty handed. "Didn't have what you were looking for, sir?"
The man gave a thin smile and took his boy by the hand. "Not here, no. Come on, Col."
"Good luck!" the charity worker called as they walked off. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas!" Colin shouted back.
The bell kept ringing, coins and the occasional bill fell into the bucket, and high overhead the stars and a haloed moon shined down on Topeka.
Act One
Over the past couple of months Cain had grown accustomed to his landlord's... housemate's... whatever's eccentricities. He learned early on that when LeFevre got an idea in his head he would not let it go. So when he came downstairs the following morning and discovered a live, undecorated tree propped in a stand in the dining room he was not completely surprised.
Then he remembered that it was barely seven in the morning and blinked.
"How the hell-" he began, then snagged the note that was clipped onto one of the branches.
Brought up the other box for you. I have some things to do early, will see you at the party this afternoon. Merry Christmas!
- A
Cain sighed and shook his head. "Like I have time," he muttered, then replaced the note.
Jeb could do it if he wanted, he'd be then only one home today. Then again he wasn't sure if his son would be up for it either. They both knew the last person to pack the tree decorations, to set them away with loving care, had been Adora. Disturbing her work could be seen as a violation, like they were erasing one more trace of her from their lives. On the other hand leaving the ornaments hidden away would only serve to bury her further.
With a sigh Cain opened the first box, unfurled the cardboard flaps, removed the protective layer of newspaper, and froze at the sight of the star.
It was silver, five pointed like a sheriff's badge, but enclosed within a circle. She'd slipped it into a small plastic baggie to keep it from getting scratched or smudged, and placed it right in the middle on top of the other neatly packed decorations.
Adora's star had always been hers to hang, and always wen on the tree first.
Cain set the paper aside, turned, and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Jeb could figure out what to do.
o
"Good morning and a merry Christmas Eve to all of you from KAKE. I'm Airiana Aufdae."
"And I'm Vyktor Sorrel. On our top story this morning, we've heard reports of a pickpocket targetting last minute shoppers at local retail stores. So far the perpetrator has made off with five wallets and a purse. No description of the thief is available at this time, and police are asking for the public's aide in catching this holiday Scrooge."
"In other news, we have a strange report out of Potwin Place. Ralph and Lorraine Blusen say that someone stole a pine tree from their back yard some time in the early morning hours. On their doorstep was a note of apology and forty dollars in cash."
"Huh," Vyktor remarked. "Well, at least they tried."
"Let's see if we can get people more into the Christmas spirit," Airiana cut in with a smile. "Katy, how are we looking for a white Christmas?"
"We're not going to know for sure until later, Airiana," Katy Gailman replied. She stood before a green screen, smiled nice for the camera, and gestured with practiced ease to a graphic she couldn't see but knew was there. "It's a ragged system moving in overnight, we could get anywhere from nothing to upwards of three inches. I'll have the full forecast in just a few minutes."
"Thanks Katy, we'll keep our fingers crossed. Now let's a get a look at traffic with KAKE's eye in the sky, Xora Mobatille..."
o
Sleigh Ride was playing, a classic jangly variation, as a black-gloved hand pointed along a liquor store shelf. The forefinger pointed decisively at a bottle of Canadian Club before it was seized.
o
Judge Marvin Wayzard was known for being odd. "A kook," Tudor frequently called him. This fact was exemplified by His Honor finally deciding to issue a search warrant of a suspected crack den on Christmas Eve, sending Topeka's finest into the breach once more.
The door crashed open and uniformed officers rushed in with weapons drawn, followed by Tudor and Cain. Once the all clear was given Leona Praedlyn came in as well, armed with a flashlight and an equipment bag slung over her shoulder.
"Woo-wee!" she remarked and waved her free hand in front of her nose. "What died in here?"
"Hopefully nothing," Cain informed her and holstered his gun. "Just watch where you step."
Praedlyn glanced down and grimaced. "Ew."
"Don't tell me you have no problem poking around in people's guts but are gonna get bent out of shape over a little dog poo," Tudor said. "House looks empty, I guess they just cleared off with everything but Fido."
The small dog in question, a terrier mix by the look of it, had been cowering under the coffee table but edged forward as Tudor spoke. It now stood between Praedlyn and the detective and barked.
"Oh, scary," Praedlyn drawled. "Let's call animal services on you right now."
With a whimper the dog paced away towards the kitchen, turned back, and barked again.
"I doubt there's food in there for you, pup," Tudor said, which earned him another bark. "What is it, boy? Want us to go with you?"
Cain, who'd been about to head down to check out the basement, paused and glanced back at them. "You're taking directions... from a dog?"
"Just because he ain't K-9 Unit doesn't mean he don't know things. Come on, Leona."
Praedlyn shrugged and followed Tudor, who followed the dog, who lead them into the kitchen. Dirty dishes were stacked up in the sink and they had to walk around broken glass on the floor on their way to the pantry. The dog scratched at the door, whined, looked up at them, and whined again.
"Oh for goodness sake, he really does just want a biscuit," Praedlyn muttered and tried the door. She grunted when it refused to budge. "What-"
Tudor edged in beside her and gave the doorknob a yank, then a harder one, at which point it finally gave up and opened.
A young girl was curled up on the floor. The dog darted in with another whimper and pressed his nose to her face. She remained motionless.
"Aw, hell," Praedlyn sighed and swooped in to check the girl's vitals as Tudor called for paramedics.
Act 2
Sleigh Ride was playing, a down tempo jazzy variation, as a black-gloved hand glided over a shelf of bedraggled white poinsettias. The hand settled decisively on one, and then another before both were seized.
o
Dorothy Gailman was snuggled in a fuzzy, dark blue robe with a steaming cup of coffee at her elbow and the Capital-Journal spread out before her. She was paying close attention to the local events section, finger tapping down the list as she checked times and locations.
She stopped on one and her eyes widened. Reading it again, she grinned. "Oh that's good. That's really good."
With a laugh she grabbed her cell phone, flipped it open, hit "3" on the speed dial, and schooled her expression towards seriousness. "Hello, mother?" she said when the line was picked up. "It's me. I'm so sorry, but I've been tapped for a public appearance tonight. Yes, on Christmas Eve, I know! Well, this is why I'm just the assistant DA." She paused and scrunched her nose. "No, mom, it's fine, I don't mind. It's for a good cause. I'll see you tomorrow." Another pause and Dorothy bit her lip. "I will, mom, I promise. Love you."
She disconnected, sighed, then went back to smiling happily.
o
The girl was maybe seven years old, dehydrated, and unsure of how long she'd been left alone. She said her name was Maria Aguilar and that she wanted her parents. Praedlyn wanted them too, preferable skewed on a pike, but after some more questioning from the social worker it was determined that Maria was a kidnapping victim.
Praedlyn hijacked the hospital's wifi with her laptop to access the missing persons database, sighed with relief when she found the girl's case and bit back a curse when she noted Maria had been taken in September.
"Three months now," she murmured and flipped open her cell phone. "Oh honey..." Praedlyn let the thought die as she finished dialing the McPherson sheriff's office and looked back at Maria's smiling face on her screen. "Yes, this is Leona Praedlyn with the Topeka crime lab - thank you, happy holidays to you too, sheriff. I'm calling because we have something of yours."
o
Jeb yawned as he took the stairs down from the attic and past his father's room and the bathroom before stamping down the main staircase. The tree LeFevre had put up weeks ago was tucked within the banister's curve, and Jeb appraised it with some disdain as he edged past it on the way to the kitchen. The thing was gaudy, decked with antique Victorian decorations, and it was his opinion that it looked as though the Christmas spirit had gotten drunk and thrown up all over the poor tree.
Once again his father had "accidentally" left just enough for one cup of coffee in the pot and so Jeb fixed a mug, stuck it in the microwave to reheat, and poured a bowl of cereal. He looked towards the dining room window to check the weather and did a double-take when he noticed the second tree. With a shake of his head he turned to the refrigerator to get milk, whereupon he discovered a note.
Ambrose got a tree for our decorations, go ahead if you get bored. We should be home by six.
Jeb sighed, crumpled the note, and took his breakfast to the living room where he settled down and turned on the TV.
"Checking the community events calender this Christmas Eve, Holy Name Church on Tenth will be serving Christmas dinner to the needy with help from the Police Benevolence Association-"
He switched to the Travel Channel which was having a marathon of shows about Las Vegas, dug into his cereal, and drank his coffee. Every now and then he'd look towards the dining room where he could just see the bare tree and the boxes stacked beside it, then back to the television. When he was finished he took his bowl and mug back to the kitchen, but instead of returning to the couch he went to the boxes.
Like his father, Jeb froze when he saw the star. Unlike Wyatt he took it out of the box, out of the bag, and traced his finger along the inscription on the outer ring.
Jeb huffed a sigh, set the star aside, and began pulling out the other ornaments.
o
Being the junior partner, Cain traditionally never got to drive. Today, however, he did, but he was nowhere near happy about it.
"It's evidence," he stated flatly.
Tudor spared him a glance, but his attention was focused on the small dog in his lap. "He's a dog."
"A dog taken from a crime scene. When we find these people we can tack on an animal cruelty charge for neglect."
"I think keeping a kid locked in a pantry beats out leaving a mutt to fend for itself for a few days."
There was silence as the detectives thought of the girl they'd last seen being loaded into an ambulance.
"Damn shame," Tudor sighed as he scratched the dog behind the ears. He looked out the window and frowned. "Hey, stop for a minute."
Cain grunted irritably but complied. "What?"
"Gimme a sec," Tudor said, then unbuckled his seat belt, picked up the dog, and held it out for his partner. "Hang onto him for me."
Cain took the dog and gave it a dubious look. The dog looked at Cain and growled. Cain curled his lip right back and turned the expression on Tudor, who was out of the car now. "Where are you going?"
"Pet store!" the other detective replied. "Need a collar and leash for Baxter if we're taking him back to the station." With that he closed the door and hurried into the shop.
Left alone with the dog, Cain frowned and shook his head. "Baxter?"
o
Rows of headstones dotted the drab landscape of Penwell-Gabel Cemetery, bursts of color from flowers left on graves stark in their contrast against brown grass, gray rock, dead leaves, and patches of ice.
A lone figure trudged up a walkway, tan cowboy boots mostly hidden beneath faded black jeans, the tails of a black trench coat stirring in his wake, and dark curls escaped from beneath a green wool-knit cap. One arm clutched two white poinsettias, while the opposite hand grasped a slim bottle in a brown paper bag.
The man stopped before a group of three headstones, the one on his left a shared marker for Jean and Theresa, two on the right for Phillip and Bethany.
All bore the surname LeFevre.
Ambrose's shoulders lifted as he drew a deep breath, and his sigh produced a stream of condensation on the breeze.
tbc
I'll post the other half in a few days!
- K.S.