This one is pretty long so get comfy.
Ch. 2 Seven Years of Tears
(CLARE)
As soon as I unlock my front door I'm greeted by a wet sloppy kiss. Not from a husband though or even a boyfriend, no, the only guys waiting for me at home are my dogs. Hawthorne or Thorne for short is a black lab, and Wells is a bagel, that's half basset hound and half beagle. Both are named after two of my favorite authors and both are wonderful companions.
"Hi boys, I bet you're hungry," I smile scratching them behind the ears. They bark happily and follow me into the kitchen. I have a doggie door for them, the kind that only allows my dogs in with a signal from their collars. That way I don't have to worry about them being in my small house all day or other dogs getting in. My house is just a small row house, one bedroom, one and half washrooms, eat in kitchen, living room and one car garage, but it's all mine.
I put out the food for the dogs and preheat the oven to warm a frozen lasagna for me. Sitting on the sofa and turning on the TV while I wait for the oven to ding. When it does I get up and put the lasagna in, setting the timer for 45 minutes. I get a carrot, some sugar peas and cucumber from the fridge, washing the vegetables, cutting the cucumber and carrots into sticks. I munch on the vegetables and watch TV while waiting for my lasagna to cook. When the timer beeps I check the lasagna, it's hot and bubbly, so I remove it from the oven and cut a piece to put on my plate. It's a family size and will feed me for three or four days. As I get a plate down from the cupboard I glance at the only picture I have up in my house of me, Mom and Darcy.
Mom slipped into the bottle when Dad walked out on us and she never came back out. She's held dozens of menial jobs over the years, convenience store clerk, kitchen worker at a diner, laundromat attendant, wiper at a carwash. It's always minimum wage and if she manages to keep the job for more than six months it's practically a miracle. She still lives in town, but I rarely see her, we hardly even speak. The only time I usually do see her is when she shows up to ask me for money.
My sister Darcy is three years older than me, but she was never much of a big sister. Darcy started drinking and doing drugs when she was in eighth grade, she hid it for a while, but it wasn't long before she was taking Mom's liquor. Mom only cared because she ran out of liquor faster. In high school Darcy just started breaking down, I tried to help, but I couldn't help both Darcy and Mom. Darcy kept breaking down, started sleeping away from the house, and eventually she just stopped coming home at all. She's flitted in and out of my life since then. Last time I saw her she said she had cleaned up and been to rehab. She seemed sober at the time, but it doesn't mean it will stay that way.
I miss them sometimes, but I know I'm better off without either of them in my life. There are times when I believe I'd be better off without anyone in my life. The only one to be in my life consistently and be there when I need them has been Snake.
"Come on boys, let's eat in the living room," I call to the dogs as I pour myself a glass of wine.
The dogs are done eating and they follow me to the living room. I sit on the sofa, Thorne at my feet and Wells on the sofa next to me. I eat, sip my wine, watch TV and cuddle with the dogs. Cleaning up and putting the lasagna away when it's cool, I watch TV for most of the night, but my mind keeps wandering back to the case. I take a quick shower before going to bed. I read for a while, but as usual at this time of year my sleep is restless and plagued with disturbing dreams. Waking with a gasp the dogs lick my face, I let out a sigh of relief and hug them both.
"Come on boys I'll get you some breakfast," I tell them.
They follow me down to the kitchen, I put out their food and start the coffee. Returning upstairs I wash my face, get dressed, do my hair and makeup. Make yogurt with fruit for breakfast, grab my gun and shield and leave for work.
"Hey," Luke says as I'm opening the locker to put my gun in, "I found the girlfriend. She's still local we can go talk to her. I found Connor too, but he's in Ottawa, we'll have to talk to Simpson about going up there, maybe tomorrow."
"When did you get here?" I inquire taking my gun back from the locker.
"Six, I didn't sleep much and you were right. I wasn't giving my attention to this case, I didn't think it was important, but it is. Wesley's mother has been in pain for seven years wondering what happened to her son."
"I take it Jenna talked some sense into you?" I ask as we begin going downstairs.
"She usually does," Luke replies. We go down and get a car, Luke hands me a file and he drives. "Hannah Belmont works as a nurse at Toronto Western. I called earlier to find out when she'd be on duty."
"And Connor?" I question although I'm looking at the file already.
"Professor of astronomy and planetary science at the University of Ottawa," Luke tells me.
"How's Jenna doing?" I inquire as I close the file.
"Good, you should come to dinner again, maybe after we close this case."
"If we close it."
"We'll close it, we've got to. After we talk to Hannah we can talk to some of the kids that used to bully Wes. I found their names too, most of them are still in town."
"You were busy this morning."
"I told you, I couldn't sleep," Luke shrugs.
I look at the file again and see the names of the former bullies and their current whereabouts. Most of them are still in town in fairly menial jobs, it should be easy to talk to them. My gut tells me that it wasn't a bully, but it will still be good to talk to them, see what they remember. Luke parks at the hospital and we walk in going to reception.
"We need to speak to Hannah Belmont," Luke tells the reception nurse as we show her our badges.
"I'll page her," the nurse replies. She pages Hannah and a few minutes later a nurse walks out. She's tall and thin with long red hair, and an oval face. "Hannah these detectives would like to speak with you," the reception nurse informs her.
"Is there somewhere we can go to speak in private?" I ask.
"Yes, come with me," Hannah nods. We follow her to what seems to be a conference room, she motions for us to go in and closes the door behind us. "What's going on?"
"We're looking into the case of Wesley Bettenkamp again," Luke informs her. Hannah gasps and seems to lose her legs as she falls back leaning on the table. Luke reaches out to steady her, but she puts her hand out and shakes her head.
"Wes," she whispers as her eyes fill with tears.
"We know that he was happy just before his disappearance and death. Is there anything you can tell us about that day?" I question.
Hannah looks away, out the window. In her eyes a look of sorrow, yet reminiscent bliss, as if she were watching her and Wesley as kids outside that window.
"He was so excited, he was waiting for me at school that morning. He ran over and hugged me, picking me up and swinging me around," she says and her face lights up with euphoria at the memory. "He kissed me with so much passion and set me down, told me he'd won the science scholarship. He was so proud, he talked about the other contests he would enter. He had so many ideas about university and scholarships, grants. He was brilliant, he was going to go so far, he was the kind of kid that you just knew would make great things."
"What about later that day? Was he bullied? Who else did he tell about the scholarship?" Luke inquires.
"Everyone, he told everyone and they were all happy for him. Except…" Hannah begins and then her sentence drifts off.
"Except what?" I prompt.
"Connor, he was happy for Wes, he congratulated him and everything. It's just that it took him a moment, but I think it was because Connor entered the same contest. I think Connor was just a little shocked that he hadn't won. Connor was also very bright, he and Wes were two of the smartest kids at the school."
"When was the last time you saw Wesley?" I question.
"When we got out of our last class that day. He walked me to my locker, kissed me and said there was something he needed to do. That was the last I saw or heard from him, he disappeared after that. I knew he hadn't run away, he wouldn't leave, he just wouldn't."
"Was there anything else about that day? Anything odd? Was he bullied that day?" Luke asks.
"No, not that I saw or was aware of anyway. Wes had been bullied, but not that day, even the boys that bullied him regularly seemed…well happy for Wes may not be right. Perhaps just respecting his happiness that day. If you find who killed him will you tell me? Wes was the love of my high school life. I was afraid to love again for so long after Wes, when he disappeared, was found dead, it broke me in away. I pushed people away, I put all my efforts into school. I've had a steady boyfriend now for two years, but I've never really let go of Wes. Even when we buried him, there was never really closure."
"If we find his killer we'll be sure to tell you. Thank you for meeting with us Hannah," I reply and she smiles.
We go back out to the car and return to the station. After checking in with Simpson, and telling him about Connor being in Ottawa he gives us the okay to go tomorrow. We spend the rest of the day interviewing former bullies, most of them hardly remember Wesley until we tell them he went missing and was later found dead. Even then most of them refer to him as "the geek that died" instead of his name. They admit to bullying, but it wasn't necessarily personal and he wasn't the only one they bullied. All of them say pretty much the same thing, it was just high school pecking order, and they had nothing to do with Wesley's death.
"I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow, it's four hours there and four hours back," Luke says as we retrieve our guns from the lockers.
"See you in the morning partner."
(LUKE)
"I don't know when I'll be home tonight," I tell my wife as I grab my coat.
"Be safe," Jenna says before kissing me goodbye.
I get in the car and drive to Clare's house, I honk and she comes out. We swing through a drive-thru coffee shop for coffee and breakfast. It's a long drive to Ottawa, Clare and I fill the time by talking about high school. She only talks about academics though, classes, teachers, how well she did. She won't talk about friends, boyfriends or her family. Not that she normally talks about her family, I know she doesn't see them anymore though.
"I'll see the best way to get to the sciences building," Clare comments when we enter the campus.
She looks it up on her phone, and gives me directions to the sciences building. It takes a few more minutes to find the nearest parking lot where we can park. Almost thirty more minutes before we find Professor DeLaurier and his classroom. He's in the middle of teaching a class, so we wait.
"Professor Connor DeLaurier?" Clare asks as we approach his desk. He just dismissed the class and a few students are still lingering.
"Yes?"
"D.C. Baker, this is my partner D.C. Edwards. We wanted to talk to you about Wesley Bettenkamp," I inform him. I expect some kind of reaction, but get none at all.
"Let's go into my office, I have an hour before my next class," he says. We follow him out of the classroom and down a couple hallways to faculty offices. He has a private office, he goes in first, we follow him in closing the door behind us.
"He's dead, Wes died a long time ago," Connor says.
"We've reopened the case," Clare enlightens him.
"What for? Why reopen old wounds? You can't bring him back," Connor says. He won't look at us and I exchange a look with Clare.
"We need you to tell us what happened that day," Clare says.
"He won the scholarship, he was happy, he got beat up by some bullies," Connor responds in a dry voice.
"You can tell us here or we can drive you back to Toronto and you can tell us at the police station," I tell him.
"I just told you what happened that day," Connor says.
"Did you see him get bullied that day?" Clare asks.
"No, but he was always bullied, he was beat up when his body was found it had to be bullies," Connor replies crossing his arms.
"He died of a head injury, he wasn't beat up. There's been no evidence it was bullies and we've spoken to all his former bullies. What really happened that day Connor? What aren't you telling us?" Clare asks and steps closer to him.
"WES SHOULDN'T HAVE WON," Connor yells and clenches his fist. He makes himself taller, staring at Clare and stepping closer to her. I'm pretty sure he's going to hit her and try and run, instinctively I get between them.
"Settle down and step back from my partner," I order him.
"Tell us what happened Connor," Clare says.
"I should have won, my paper was a million times better than his. Wes found me after school in the science lab, he asked me what was wrong. I…I exploded," Connor admits almost under his breath. "I told him he stole my scholarship and I pushed him, he fell back and hit his head on the metal corner of the table. He fell to the ground, he was dead. I panicked, I hid him in the supply closet and waited for the school to empty. I took a sack from the gym and put his body in it, drug it down to the ravine. I've tried to forget for the last seven years, but I couldn't. I haven't been able to forget that moment when I pushed him for seven years."
"Place your hands behind your back Professor DeLaurier," I instruct Connor as I get out my cuffs.
He's resigned to his fate now; he knows it's time. He holds his head down as we take him out to the car. I radio into Simpson that we're bringing in a suspect. Clare gets the name and number of Connor's supervisor and calls to let them know he's being arrested and won't be back today. It's a long drive back, at first Connor is silent and then he won't stop saying that it was an accident and he was young. After an hour of it I tell him to shut up, and he does. When we get to the station and go in through the front with Connor in handcuffs Dave is there. I see his face when he realizes Connor is in handcuffs, I know this could turn ugly fast, so I hand Connor to Clare.
"Connor? You killed Wes?" Dave asks on strangled breath.
"It was an accident Dave," Connor says.
"How could you?" Dave growls advancing toward his old friend. I catch Dave and hold him back.
"Don't, you'll get in trouble for harming a suspect. He already confessed, we'll take him upstairs to get a formal statement," I tell Dave. He nods a little, he's still clenching his jaw though. "You can ask your sarge if you can come up and be in observation, okay it with Simpson too," I comment and he relaxes a little.
"Caught your guy?" Spin asks when we get up to homicide. I take Connor and hand Clare my gun so that she can lock up our service weapons.
"You know we're still looking for ours," Sean gripes.
"We're about to wrap this case, and then we can help you," Clare replies while I get Connor into the box. It's what we call interrogation, we have two up here, but sometimes the other units use one of ours. If we're not using it and the ones for their units are full.
"We'll need to tape your confession, then it will be transcribed and you'll have to sign the printed confession. You'll be held in lockup tonight, and appear before a judge soon," I enlighten Connor. He just nods in response, I'm not sure if it's all hitting him or he's relieved it's finally over or what. "You want a pop or something to eat?" I offer and he shakes his head.
I uncuff Connor, re-cuffing one wrist to the table, and Clare starts the voice recorder. We have to prompt Connor where to start, but once he's going he talks for over an hour. Everything from first seeing Wesley that morning to when Wesley's body was found.
"I'll type it up and get him ready for processing, you should go home to Jenna," Clare says when we leave the box.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, you did the driving today, go home to your wife and son," Clare says again.
"Okay, thanks partner, I'll see you tomorrow," I reply.
She smiles and goes into Simpson's office, I start to grab my things when I see Dave come out of observation. He's sort of pale, but also looks a little green. He leans on the wall and I go over putting a hand on his shoulder.
"I know it was an accident, but how could he do that? Wes was our friend; how could he hide the body? How could he live with it for so long?" Dave questions in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Fear I guess, I don't know. That kind of thing would weigh on my conscience. We were going to call Wesley's mother and let her know we caught the killer, but maybe it would be better coming from you. We promised Hannah we would tell her too, and Wesley's uncle," I comment. It's both urging Dave to take a breath and trying to get him off our floor so he doesn't do anything stupid.
"Yeah," Dave nods, "Yeah, I'll call them."
"How's Dave?" Clare asks coming out of Simpson's office just as Dave goes down the stairs.
"Not sure, in shock I think. He's going to call Wesley's mother and tell her we caught the guy. I figured under the circumstances it might be better."
"Yeah, good idea. You should get home. I'm going to start transcribing and a couple uniforms are on their way up to get Connor processed."
"See you tomorrow," I yawn grabbing my things. I realize just how tired I am as I start to drive home, it's only a little after eight, but I didn't sleep much better last night, and it was a long day of driving. I pull into the garage, and go in through the kitchen. Jenna comes from the living room to greet me with a kiss.
"You look beat, why don't you get out of your work clothes and I'll heat you up some dinner," Jenna says.
"Thanks Honey, Davey in bed?"
"Yeah, probably asleep already, you can go in and kiss him," she tells me.
Taking off my coat and loosening my tie I quietly peek into Davey's room. He is asleep in the bed, I pull his covers up and kiss his forehead before quietly leaving his room. After changing out of my work clothes I return to the kitchen and Jenna brings me a plate. She sits with me while I eat and rinse my plate putting it in the dishwasher.
"Was it all the driving that made you so tired?" Jenna asks bringing me to the sofa.
"Partly, we caught a suspect. He was friends with the victim, it was an accident but he never said anything. Seven years and he never told anyone or did anything, he moved away. It was hard to tell if he was relieved it was over or just defeated. One of the officers at the station was also friends with the victim in high school, and the killer. It was just hard to hear, hard to watch. I like being a cop, but sometimes the things humans are capable of truly scare me."
"I know me too, but I feel better knowing you're out there catching these people. I know you're making the world a little bit safer for our son," Jenna says. I smile and kiss my wife tenderly.
"I told Clare she should come to dinner when we solved the case," I enlighten my wife.
"I'll make her favorite tomorrow night then, but you both better be here by six," Jenna says firmly.
"I'll make sure of it."
(CLARE)
"Connor's getting processed, he'll go to lock up you can transcribe his statement tomorrow. Go home Clare get some rest, you two did good work today," Snake insists after the uniforms take Connor away.
"Thanks boss, I'll see you tomorrow," I smile.
Sean and Spin already left, they're waiting on forensics and seem to have hit a roadblock in their case. I get my purse, my coat, my gun from my locker and head downstairs. When I exit the building I find Wesley's mom waiting for me.
"Dave called, thank you Clare for bringing me some peace. It was hard to accept that Connor did it, such a tragic moment of anger. I just wanted to express my gratitude for the work you did. I'm meeting Mike, we're going to truly put Wesley to rest now," Mary says as she hugs me.
"I was just doing my job," I reply.
"No, it was more than that. Not everyone would look into a seven-year-old case. I tried for so long to get it reopened, no one would listen. They barely looked the first time, but now thanks to you I can die with peace in my heart," Mary smiles and she turns around going to her car.
It's now that I realize Luke picked me up this morning, so I call for a cab. The boys are hungry when I get home, and after getting their food out I start heating some of the left over lasagna for me. I can't help thinking about Mary, Wesley, Dave and Connor. A mother was tormented for seven years because no one would look into her son's death, no one really took it seriously to begin with. It took her coming in and requesting it as her dying wish even for me to get permission to look into it again. All it would have taken was someone talking to Connor, but no one took the time. How many other mothers in torment are there out there? How many unsolved cold cases in the city that no one wants to look at?
It's a question that plagues me most of the night, I should be happy that we solved the case. I am, but I'm also wondering about all the other unsolved cases. I know there are killers and other criminals out there that may never face justice because the cases weren't investigated thoroughly. With my mind restless I take a sleeping pill and fall asleep on the sofa to the TV. I wake late the next morning to the dogs barking, yawning with a big stretch, and panicking when I see the time on the microwave. I pour some food into the dogs bowls, and then I quickly grab my phone and call Snake as I run upstairs to get dressed.
"Running late?"
"Sorry, sorry, took a sleeping pill last night and overslept. I'll be there as soon as I'm dressed," I tell him while hurriedly grabbing clothes from the closet.
"Not sleeping again?" Simpson asks.
"Just the last couple of nights, I'll be in soon."
"Take your time, Baker is out with Spin and Sean doing interviews. Transcribing Connor's statement will be waiting for you when you get here," Simpson says before hanging up.
This doesn't make me move any slower and I'm out the door ten minutes later. I grab some bad coffee when I get to work and start transcribing Connor's statement. When I'm nearly done Simpson calls to have Connor brought over from lockup. He's taken back to the box and I have him read the statement and sign the bottom of each page. He won't see a judge until Friday. I'm starting the rest of the paperwork involved in our case when the guys get back. Sean and Spin are leading in a portly male with curly red hair and freckles.
"I'm telling you I didn't do it, you've got the wrong guy," he says to them.
"Quiet Dwayne, we've heard it all before," Spinner says. While Spinner takes Dwayne into the 2nd box Sean goes to check in with Simpson.
"Looks like they have a suspect," I comment to Luke.
"Yeah, petty thief named Dwayne Myers, his fingerprints were found on a window outside the restaurant and the cash register," Luke informs me.
"Sounds like a good suspect," I nod.
"Yeah, best one they have. With his fingerprint on the register seems pretty open and shut," Luke remarks sitting at his desk. "So, Jenna's making your favorite tonight, I told her we'd be there by six."
"Can't wait, it will be nice to have a home cooked meal," I grin.
Luke and I spend the rest of the day doing paperwork, leaving the office at 5:30 I follow him to his place. Luke pulls into the garage, but leaves it open so I can go in through there.
"Hi Clare," Jenna smiles hugging me tightly, "it's so good to see you."
"You as well, you look amazing," I grin back.
"Davey, come say hi to Clare," Luke calls into the house. A moment later Davey comes running in.
"Hi Clare," he grins.
"Hi Buddy, you're getting so big," I smile tousling his hair.
"You two go relax, dinner will be ready shortly," Jenna insists.
"Can I help with anything?" I offer.
"Only if you're going to help yourself to a glass of wine, otherwise go relax," Jenna asserts.
Luke takes Davey's hand and pulls him into the living room with me following. We sit down on the sofa and Davey brings over toys to us, he begins playing and engaging us sometimes. When Jenna calls us in to eat Luke tells Davey to go wash his hands. Luke and I wash ours too before sitting down. Jenna pours me some wine while Luke makes a plate for Davey.
"We have an announcement," Luke tells me after we've been eating for a little while. I stop eating and look at him expectantly. "Jenna's pregnant again, almost four months," Luke informs me and I smile.
"That's wonderful, congratulations both of you. Do you know what you're having yet?"
"Not yet, we'll find out during the next appointment," Jenna says.
"Are you excited to be a big brother Davey?" I ask him.
"Yeah, I want a baby brudder," he says with food in his mouth still.
"Davey don't talk with your mouth full," Jenna scolds handing him his napkin. "I'm hoping for a girl, there's enough male energy in this house," Jenna comments and I laugh.
"You love the male energy," Luke teases his wife.
"So Clare, dating anyone?" Jenna questions.
"Not since I broke up with the realtor, most guys don't like the hours we have," I reply.
"Maybe," Luke speaks up, "you need to date another cop."
(LUKE)
"Dwayne get processed last night?" I question when I come into the office Friday morning.
"He asked for a lawyer, we had enough to keep him in lockup though," Sean says as I hang up my coat. Just as I'm about to sit at my desk Simpson opens his office door and pokes his head out.
"I need to speak with the four of you," he tells us. The tone of his voice is fairly serious and we all exchange a look. Getting up from our desks we walk into Simpson's office. He doesn't sit back at his desk, rather perches on the edge of it.
"What's up Boss?" Spinner inquires.
"The press got wind of the cold case we solved and they want to do a feature on the department," Simpson informs us. For some reason Clare gets real tense at this news, I realize that Simpson was talking directly to her. "Wasn't my idea, comes from the mayor and the chief," Simpson tells us in an apologetic tone, but again he's looking straight at Clare.
"I'm not talking to them," Clare says flatly and through clenched teeth.
"You were instrumental in solving the case Clare, you have to speak to them. They want a picture with you, Luke and the victim's mother," Simpson informs her. Clare manages to go even more tense.
"What's up?" Sean asks looking at Clare. We can all tell something is very wrong at this point.
"I don't like the press," Clare replies.
"It'll be short, a couple pictures, a few questions, most of the interview will be done with me. I made sure of it, but you'll have to talk to them a little bit Clare," Simpson tells her and she goes tense again.
"Fine, but I want preapproval of all the questions. I'm taking some lost time," Clare says and leaves quickly, she doesn't grab her coat or gun just exits the floor as fast as she can.
"What's wrong with Clare? Why does she hate the press so much?" Sean asks.
"If she wants to tell you that's up to Clare, this is going to be hard for her and it's already a hard time of year for her," Simpson says.
He doesn't elaborate though, just sits down at his desk and looks at his computer. We leave his office and return to our desks. I text Clare asking where she is, she doesn't respond. For a couple hours I help Sean and Spin with paperwork, make some phone calls following up on leads for one of the night shift cases and try to get a hold of my partner, but I don't. She doesn't return until just after lunch, and about two hours before we're supposed to meet with the reporters.
"Where have you been?" I question.
"Taking lost time, Like I said," she snaps back. Before I can ask anything else she disappears into Simpson's office. The three of us watch them talking, and Clare comes out a minute later going to her desk. I get up from my desk and walk around to hers.
"You going to tell me what's going on?" I inquire.
"Nothing," she replies.
Obviously, that's not true, but she's not going to talk so I drop it. I watch her open an e-mail from Simpson, it contains all of the questions that the reporters intend to ask us. Most are for me or Clare as Sean and Spin were never really on the case. Clare looks them over, and refuses to answer a couple of the ones that are about her personally. She sends it back to Simpson and then gets up to get some coffee, I follow her.
"Clare," I start and she glares at me, I know better than to ask what's going on again. "If you need to talk you know where I am."
She sighs a little and stops glaring at me, "I know."
Returning to our desk we spend time doing paperwork. Sean and Spin leave for a while to meet with the crown attorney. They return just before the reporters get here, four in all, and Wesley's mom Mary arrives just after them. After introductions the reporters start with questions, even having seen the questions ahead of time Clare barely answers them, she leaves most of it to me or Simpson. They have some questions for Mary too, but not many. They snap a few pictures, me and Clare, the two of us and Mary, the five of us and Mary. When they're done with pictures they follow Simpson to his office to finish the interview.
"Thank you again for everything," Mary smiles before she leaves.
"I'm taking lost time again," Clare says grabbing her coat before she leaves. I wait about thirty seconds and then grab my coat too.
"Tell the boss I'll be back," I request of Sean and Spin.
They nod and I follow Clare out, it's starting to snow a little, but she doesn't seem to care. I follow her down the street to the Blue & Gold Bar, and I watch her go in. When I come in she's just sitting down at the bar.
"It's a little early isn't it Clare?" Owen asks looking at the clock.
"Bourbon," is her only reply.
"I've never seen you drink hard liquor, it's usually wine," Owen comments.
"You sure about this?" I ask Clare.
"Pour the drink Owen," Clare orders.
Owen looks at me and I nod to say he can pour the drink, and then I get out my phone and text Simpson. I tell him where Clare is and what she's drinking, he replies saying he'll be right down. I put my phone in my pocket and watch as Clare downs that glass then orders another. When I see Simpson come in I get up and go over to him.
"Thanks Luke, head back to the station I'll take it from here," Simpson says.
I wave to Owen as I leave and walk back to the station. The reporters are gone and it seems pretty quiet now.
"Where's Clare?" Sean asks.
"Drinking at Owen's bar, drinking bourbon," I inform them.
"Seriously?" Spinner asks.
"Yeah, I texted Simpson he's with her now."
"Any idea what her problem with the press is?" Sean inquires. I just shrug in response; I have no idea what's going on with her. "We thought back on it, and we don't remember her ever dealing with the press," Sean says as I sit at my desk.
"Yeah," I nod after thinking a moment, "guess she hasn't."
I try to get back to work, but I can't stop thinking about Clare. It's about twenty minutes before Simpson gets back and Clare isn't with him.
"I sent Clare home, she's taking a couple days off," Simpson tells us.
"What's going on with her boss?" I ask.
"As I said before if she wants to tell you it's up to her. She'll be back on Monday, she just needs some time."
Update soon picking up Monday when Declan brings Fiona in hoping the team can solve an old case that's been haunting Fiona. The next story to be updated will be "The Way She Smiles When She Sees Me" and yes normally a short story would follow this. I've decided to premier Jekyll Clowen with the next round and not this one.