Canadian Consulate, Chicago, Illinois …
Chicago in summer is only slightly cooler than the devil's griddle. Inspector Margaret Thatcher wondered if she could strip down any farther without being arrested for indecent exposure as she lay in front of the fan in her apartment. She hadn't been able to sleep for three days, not since the building's central air quit. The site manager had been called, the property owners and every HVAC company in Chicago. They were overworked during the heat wave.
"I might as well go to the consulate, the air works there." Meg dragged herself up and went to her closet. The very sight of her business suits made her itch. A light weight pair of khakis and an RCMP tee shirt were as cool and professional a she could manage. Grabbing her purse, the Inspector headed to the consulate to cool off and get started on the next day's paperwork.
Ray Vecchio's House ….
"Frannie, get me another root beer." Ray shouted from the couch where he and Fraser sat watching baseball on television.
"Get it yourself, Ray." the detective's spicy, younger sister shouted right back, only louder. She walked into the living room and sat down on the arm of the couch, barely inches away from the misplaced, Canadian Mountie.
"Fraser, would you like anything to drink?" she offered, a hunger in her dark, brown eyes.
"No, thank you, Francesca." Benton Fraser, Mountie extraordinaire, squirmed toward his unofficial partner on the short couch. It wasn't that he didn't like Frannie, it was that she liked him too much.
"I could make you a sandwich or something, just name it, Fraser." Frannie tried again. She'd always heard that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach.
"No, thank you, I'm quite full from the lasagna you and your mother fixed for lunch." Ben smiled up at her.
"Yes! Yes! Yes! Head for home plate." Ray popped off the couch, rooting for his team, fists beating the air as the player raced for home plate. When the television and all the lights went off he stopped rooting and began fuming.
"Ray! Watch your language please." Ma Vecchio shouted from the kitchen.
"Sorry, Ma." he called back.
"I'll go check the fuse box." the off-duty detective walked toward the kitchen where his mother already stood with a flashlight. Fraser nodded and followed him into the large space.
"Let me in there, Ma." Ray edged her out of his way.
"It won't do any good, Ray." Maria, his younger sister informed him as she walked in the back door.
"It's just a fuse." Ray shrugged her off.
"The electric is out all over the neighborhood." Maria made a face at her brother.
"I'll call the company, may as well listen to some elevator music." Ma Vecchio said, wiping her hands on the white apron with a blue gingham border at her waist. The only time she didn't wear an apron was to Mass on Sunday. Once or twice she'd forgotten and worn one then too.
"Ray, I should go, I should check on the consulate." Fraser pulled his friend out of the knot of Vecchios in the kitchen.
"Do you need a ride, traffic will be crazy." Ray asked, barely able to make out the Mountie's face.
"No, I'll walk, thank you kindly." Fraser assured him. In the darkness and noise of the Vecchio house, he didn't see or hear Frannie slip up behind him. He did, however, feel her finger pinch his tush through the brown uniform pants he wore.
"Oh dear." Ben jumped, nearly knocking Ray over.
"Frannie!" Ray bellowed, hearing his sister giggle.
"I should go, now." Fraser moved toward the front door to collect his Stetson and uniform coat.
"Yeah, maybe you'd better, or Frannie'll chase you around the house." Ray didn't want to imagine what would happen if she caught him.
"Yes, she would. I should get going. Thank your mother again for me for lunch, it was wonderful." Ben pulled his Stetson down and let himself out. Ray followed, an amused grin on his face. He kinda liked watching the Mountie squirm from time to time.
Ben walked to the consulate at his usual, ground eating pace. Diefenbaker had elected to stay in the cool, quiet building, despite knowing he would be slipped treats by the Vecchios if he accompanied Ben. The scorching heat wasn't worth the small bits of food.
In the alley between the consulate and the offices next door, Ben saw a pair of tennis shoes sticking out behind the dumpster. Listening closely, he heard someone moan in pain. Rounding the dumpster, he saw his worst fear, Meg lying in a pool of her own blood. The metallic scent hit the back of his throat and stuck. Her dark hair was soaked with blood from a head wound. The dark, browning stain on her red, RCMP tee shirt made Ben sick. Thankfully, there wasn't any sign of sexual assault. Ben checked her pulse and breathing. Both weren't what they should have been. He rolled up his uniform coat and made Meg as comfortable as possible before heading into the consulate to call an ambulance.
"There's been an assault outside the Canadian Consulate, I need an ambulance." the Mountie closed his eyes as he spoke but all he could see was Meg lying in the alley behind the dumpster. He gave the dispatcher the address and quickly got off the line to go back outside.
Meg looked up at the clearest blue sky she'd ever seen. Dumpling clouded floated carelessly overhead, silver linings shining in the afternoon light. The shade of the building shielded her eyes as she lay on her back. It didn't occur to her to ask where she was or what had happened. Neither pain nor fear penetrated her brain.
"Inspector Thatcher, Inspector." a familiar voice called from somewhere very far away. She liked that voice, it was comforting and inviting.
"Inspector, look at me." gentle but strong hands lifted Meg's head a bit to look into beautiful but troubled eyes. They were filled with concern and something bordering on desperation. It was too much, looking into those Atlantic blue eyes. She wanted to see them smile instead. Meg let her eyes close, letting herself ease into the darkness, quiet, comfortable darkness.
"Inspector, please, come back." that pleasant voice called, farther away this time. Somewhere a siren wailed incessantly.
Ray's cell phone rang as he paced the front porch, trying to catch a stray breeze from moving cars along the street. Most of his neighbors were doing the same thing. Everyone waited impatiently for the electric company to fix the problem.
"Vecchio here." He spoke lazily into the phone. Thankfully, it still worked.
"Detective, there's been an assault at the consulate, you'd better get down there." Welsh's voice sounded heavy and old over the line.
"Is Fraser okay?" Ray automatically asked, standing still.
"Yeah, it's the Inspector." Welsh answered.
"I'll be there in five, Sir." Ray hung up and hurried inside to tell Frannie he'd been called to work, but nothing about the assault. He took off in the Riviera, his dash light flashing frantically.
Ray parked his green gem across the street from the consulate and elbowed his way through uniformed officers to the scene of the crime. Fraser stood at the back of an ambulance, blood on his hands and uniform.
"Fraser, what's going on?" Ray walked up to him, using his pocket notebook as a fan.
"I found Inspector Thatcher unconscious behind the dumpster, she'd been stabbed, blunt force trauma to the head. I called 911." Ben stared over Ray's shoulder, carefully reciting the events. His pale face was even paler, somehow.
"How is she?" Ray asked, concerned about his friend.
"I'm not certain, Ray, there was a significant amount of blood loss." Ben shook his head. He'd been in dangerous situations before, been injured himself and helped others injured either deliberately or accidentally. None of that had prepared him for the sight of Inspector Thatcher lying on her back, looking up at the sky as if she were simply watching the clouds instead of bleeding to death. He'd felt the same when Ray had been shot and in the hospital after they'd first met. Somehow, this was different.
"She'll be fine, Fraser, she's a tough cookie, gotta be to be a lady Mountie, right." Ray laid a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Yes, she's quite resilient." Ben spoke but without conviction.
"Let me get the crime scene guys going on this and I'll be with you." Ray pulled away, back to the job.
"I should go to the hospital with the Inspector." Ben stood up straight, looking at Ray for the first time.
"You need to get cleaned up, I'll get one of the uniforms to take you." Ray pointed toward the consulate.
"Thank you kindly, Ray, I'd very much appreciate that." the Mountie turned and walked into the consulate where he kept a spare set of clothes in his office.
A few minutes later Fraser strode out of the consulate in a fresh uniform. Ray had been joined by Lieutenant Walsh. A team of technicians with cameras and equipment buzzed around the scene.
"Constable Fraser." Welsh called him over, one hand waving. The older officer had sweat stains under each arm and his tie hung loose around his neck.
"Hello, Leftenant." Fraser greeted him with a grim face.
"We're doing everything possible to catch this guy. We'll keep you informed, alright?" Welsh saw the haunted look in the younger man's eyes. He'd seen it too often in his career.
"Thank you kindly, Sir, I'll make certain to pass that on to my superiors." the Mountie looked from Welsh to Ray.
"Officer Marks is ready to drive you to the hospital." Ray walked with Ben over to a waiting squad car. "Benny, if you need anything, let me know, okay." He offered in a low tone.
"Thank you, Ray, I will." Ben stepped into the squad car and the officer took off. Welsh and Ray both watched him leave.