Motive

Ok, ok, wait a second. Archer wasn't in Brotherhood! Well, he is now. I needed a dirtbag investigations lead, and Archer fit the bill. And looks like he's in Bradley's pocket…hm.

Gracia Hughes might as well have been a military officer the way she marched down the long hall of Investigations Headquarters toward the office that used to belong to her husband but now belonged to Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer. Her eyes were red and angry with unshed tears and she clutched a front page newspaper article in her right fist. On that front page was the picture of a young officer: Second Lieutenant Maria Ross, who had been convicted of the murder of Brigadier General Maes Hughes. Convicted, my ass, Gracia thought and she stopped briefly in front of the closed office door. She smoothed her skirt with her empty hand before letting herself in without so much as a knock.

Something about this just didn't settle evenly with Gracia. The last thing she had heard about the investigation into her husband's death was, well, nothing. There were no suspects a month ago, she knew because she was in this office every Monday at precisely 3:15 pm asking how or even if the investigation was progressing. Every Monday at precisely 3:17 pm she received the same answer, "I'm so sorry Ms. Hughes. There's nothing new to report." But this morning, all of a sudden, within twenty four hours' time, there had been an arrest, an arraignment, a trial, and a conviction? And no one bothered to inform the wife of the victim in person, leaving her to find out via popular media? No. That just was not right at all.

"Mrs. Hughes!" The Lt. Col. Exclaimed looking up from his ridiculously immaculate desk, "What a surprise."

Gracia pointed to the ornate grandfather clock in the back corner of the office. "3:15 pm. Monday. Some investigations lead you turned out to be," she said uncharacteristically hatefully and dropped the front page paper on the officer's desk. "Explain this to me, Frank."

Archer glanced over the paper for a few seconds and replied, "Well, it seems your husband's killer has finally been caught. Justice is swift, as I always-"

"Bull shit." Gracia sat on the edge of a decorative but uncomfortable chair in front of Archer's desk. Her brow was creased in focused rage and her face was bright red. Her voice was controlled but furious. "You mean to tell me that all the necessary proceedings have taken place to convict someone of murder in a single day? Oh sure it may be possible that she shot Maes. An unaccounted for round of ammunition matching the caliber used to kill him, unaccounted for whereabouts at the time of the murder, but you are missing something, Lieutenant Colonel. Something that every court martial assembly, and I doubt there even was one, wants."

Archer stared wide-eyed at the fuming widow in front of him. "And, ah, what would that thing happen to be, Mrs. Hughes?

"MOTIVE!" she screamed, taking Archer back. "Why? Why would she kill him? The two shared no assignments, no significant history, she barely even knew him. What possible reason would this woman," she tapped her finger loudly against the photograph of Ross, "have for killing my husband?"

Archer leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk and his forehead resting in his hands for just a moment. "Mrs. Hughes, I understand you're frustrated."

"Frustrated?" Gracia almost laughed. "Oh, no, Frank. I'm not frustrated. I. Am. PISSED OFF! My husband was murdered, violently stolen away from me and our barely four year old daughter, who still waits by the door for him and can't understand why Daddy won't come home to play with her!" Tears began to break free from Gracia's eyes as she shouted her grief at Archer. "Now this officer in the paper, this Maria Ross woman, has been 'convicted' of his murder without a trial which can only mean someone somewhere much higher than even you is hiding something from me. But I know you know more than you're telling, so you tell me why that Lieutenant killed my husband, Archer, because I am NOT leaving this office without answers!"

"Look, Gracia," Archer spoke cautiously, lifting his head and meeting Gracia's blazing eyes, "I'm aware that Colonel Mustang and the Fullmetal Alchemist have already informed you that Maes was investigating some pretty high-ranking officers. Like the senior staff kind of high ranking. No one knows how deep it goes, and our best information suggests that Ross was under orders to kill your husband because of this. Orders form who, now who knows. That's still under investigation. But she pulled the trigger, Mrs. Hughes. That's all I can tell you for now."

"So he was digging too deep, someone didn't like it, and now he's dead?"

"In a nutshell Mrs. Hughes, yes."

"It's too easy." Gracia shook her head.

"Easy? With all due respect ma'am, you have no idea how delicate and complicated this case is. There's nothing 'easy' about it, because now, in order to find out who ordered your husband's shooting, we have to dig in the same hole he was digging in, a hole that may very well become our own graves, same as him. No, ma'am. It's not easy." Then Archer smiled sarcastically. "Easy would be if they were having an affair or something."

Gracia stood so quickly that the chair she had been sitting on almost tipped. She raised up her arm as high as it would go and slapped Archer across the face so hard that the resulting smack could have been heard down the hall. Instantly the entire left side of Archer's face turned red.

"How. Dare. You! To insinuate that my husband was sleeping with some-"

"Mrs. Hughes, I didn't mean to imply that he was really-"

"Oh, shut up!" Gracia turned on a heel and marched out of the office in exactly the same way she had entered, slamming the door behind her.

Archer watched through the heavily frosted window of his office door as officers and secretaries sidestepped Gracia barreling down the hall. He sighed, scoffed and shook his head. He picked up his phone. "Did you get all that, Sir?"

"I did indeed," the voice on the other end replied. "Be sure to have her watched carefully. I don't want to have to attend any more funerals, if you know what I mean."

"Right. I'll be sure of it, Sir. She'll be surveyed under the pretense of protection by a team of my most trusted men."

"Excellent," the voice replied, and the line went silent.

In the hallway, Gracia picked up her pace to almost a run. She ducked into a rarely used supply closet, collapsed to the dusty floor and cried.

It should have been a good enough answer for her, shouldn't it?

He was digging too deep, someone didn't like it, and now he's dead.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but it just didn't feel right. And now, after seeing the face of Second Lieutenant Maria Ross and hearing the words of Lieutenant Colonel Frank Archer, she was beginning to think that nothing would ever be right anymore.

Gracia Hughes had never felt more helpless in all her life.