Chapter 2.
Ray returned that evening with a pizza, just as he'd promised. Turnbull had already left by the time Ray arrived, much to the detective's relief. He'd had an exhausting day and he really just wanted to relax with his buddy. He wasn't in the mood for Turnbull at all. "So, er, what're you gonna do about the woman and her kid?" he asked Fraser.
Fraser had been talking about Nicole Lavine with Ray. "I will do my best to facilitate the speedy processing of her passport application," replied Fraser.
Ray looked surprised. "That's it?" he queried, slightly puzzled at Fraser's impassiveness.
"I got the distinct impression that she didn't require any further assistance," Fraser replied. "I gave them some apples and some milk."
Ray looked at his partner, bemused. "C'mon buddy," he urged, "this isn't just about them bein' hungry is it? Ya said she had some kinda trouble at, er, at home. Ya don't leave without your passports unless, y'know, ya really have to."
"I'm inclined to agree Ray," admitted Fraser, running his thumbnail across his left eyebrow, "however, it appears that she has now left that particular situation behind."
"Fraser, she left everythin' behind," stressed Ray, "not just the situation. Look, I'll call it in, get someone to go to that address she gave ya..."
"No Ray," insisted Fraser, interrupting his friend, "I asked if I could help and she assured me that she was alright. I believe that as soon as she returns home to Canada, she will be able to bring stability back to her life."
"Ya don't know that," Ray pointed out. "Why are ya bein' like this?"
"Like what Ray?" Fraser looked puzzled. He wasn't aware that he was behaving any differently to normal.
"This is exactly the type of, er, situation that normally ya can't keep out of," Ray tried to explain. "A woman and a kid, no money for food, possibly runnin' from an abusive situation..."
"Ray that is pure speculation," Fraser interrupted him with raised eyebrows.
"Instincts buddy," Ray said, tapping the side of his head with his finger. "Ya know how these things work, ya got a ton of evidence."
Fraser shook his head. "I have no evidence whatsoever," he said, "all I have are a few comments and circumstances that I found concerning at the time. As I said, Miss Lavine assured me that she was alright."
Ray sighed. This was not at all like the Fraser he knew. The Fraser he knew wouldn't have been able to rest until he checked out Nicole Lavine's story and satisfied himself that she wasn't in any trouble. He knew that Fraser had been worried about Inspector Thatcher's situation, that's why he'd been making sure that his buddy wasn't alone with his thoughts for too long over the past couple of days, but he didn't expect Fraser's concerns would ever change the way he acted when faced with someone in trouble. "Buddy," he began, gently, "I'm sure the Ice Queen, I mean, the Inspector will call ya as soon as there's any news."
Fraser looked at his friend and managed half a smile. "I think I may have been a little preoccupied these past few days," he finally admitted. Ray nodded. Fraser's face grew serious again. "She seemed so...so..." he couldn't think of an appropriate word to finish that sentence. He took a deep breath. "She never speaks about her family, I just assumed that, well, that she had no family I suppose. I've never seen her like that Ray. It was...unnerving." He hadn't gone into too much detail with regards to the situation between Meg and her sister, but Ray of course had instinctively been able to conclude exactly what the issues were.
"Y'know buddy," began Ray, "sometimes I think maybe you're the lucky one, havin' no family I mean." Fraser was about to protest, but Ray waved a hand in the air to stop him. "Wait, here me out," he continued. "Sometimes families fall out over the dumbest things, hell, I know all about that." Ray sighed as he thought about all the wasted years after his relationship with his father had broken down.
"Ray, I am not entirely ignorant when it comes to matters of family discord," Fraser pointed out. "In fact, the circumstances surrounding my relationship with my father at the time of his death make me somewhat of an expert on the situation that Inspector Thatcher may well be facing at this juncture."
Ray hadn't really thought of it like that before. He was suddenly very grateful that he was rebuilding his relationship with his own father while he still had the chance. He put a supportive hand on his buddy's back and Fraser nodded his appreciation. Just then, Diefenbaker leapt to his feet as they heard a noise. "Is that the front door?" asked Ray, his gun hand twitching.
Fraser nodded. "Perhaps Turnbull forgot something?" he suggested as he and Ray followed Dief out into the hall, adding, "He often does." The huge wooden front door opened and the three of them were completely surprised to see Inspector Thatcher step into the hallway, half dragging her bag behind her and carrying a smaller, bright pink bag on her arm. "Inspector!" exclaimed Fraser. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon..." but his voice trailed off as he became aware of someone else standing in the shadows behind his superior officer, a young girl Fraser surmised was around eight years old.
Meg looked at Fraser with sad eyes. As she spoke, Fraser could hear the strain in her voice. "I'm sorry, I probably should have called first," she began. Then realising that she hadn't introduced her guest, she added, "This is my niece, Amy." The little girl took a tentative step forward and Ray and Fraser could see that her arm was in a sling. "Amy, don't be shy," Meg prompted, "this is Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio."
Fraser instinctively held out his hand for her to shake and then realised how inappropriate that action was, considering the young girl's current predicament. "Ah," he said, lowering his hand.
Ray shook his head at yet another display of his partners social ineptitude, realising of course that the presence of the Ice Queen was hampering Fraser's attempts. Ray took a step forward and bent his knees slightly, lowering himself to look the little girl in the eye. He smiled his biggest, toothiest smile. "Hey Amy, call me Ray, OK?" The little girl nodded. "Guess that hurts, huh?" he gestured towards her arm. She nodded silently again. Ray glanced at Fraser. He knew that his friend really needed to talk to his superior officer and Ray realised the conversation should take place in private, certainly away from the ears of the little girl. "So, er, d'ya like curlin'?" he asked.
A small laugh flickered at the corner's of the little girl's mouth. "No," she replied quietly, "it's stupid."
Ray smiled again. "Y'know Amy, I think you and me are gonna get along just fine. C'mon," he held out his hand and Amy nervously took it in hers as he led her into the reception room, beckoning to Diefenbaker to follow them.
"Thank you Detective," Meg called out after them. She turned to look at Fraser. "My sister's not dead, if that's what you're thinking," she said, rather abruptly.
Fraser was stunned at her manner. "Perhaps we should step into your office?" he suggested, reaching out to take her bags for her. Meg sighed and nodded as she followed him. He placed the bags in the corner of the room and gestured towards the small sofa against the back wall. Meg slumped down onto the seat and Fraser rather gingerly sat beside her. Then he leapt to his feet again. "I'm terribly sorry Sir," he said, "can I get you something to drink?"
"Sit down Fraser," she commanded him and he instantly complied. Then an uncomfortable silence fell. Fraser wasn't sure whether he should speak or not. Eventually, Meg spoke, her voice much softer now. "Amy was released from the hospital this afternoon," she explained. "she suffered a dislocated shoulder in the accident, but her father sustained slightly more serious injuries so he'll be in for at least another week. Amy had no one else to look after her."
I see," replied Fraser slowly. "If you don't mind me asking Sir, why return here with her? I assume your sister is still in a serious condition? I would have thought that you'd rather..."
"She's in a coma," Meg interrupted him, "there's nothing I can do there. She's in good hands. I thought this was the best thing I could do for Amy." Fraser wasn't entirely sure he agreed with her and Meg saw the doubt flicker across his face. "I've just been sitting there Fraser...for three days..." her voice cracked and she paused to compose herself. "They think she can hear my voice. They said the sound of my voice might bring her round, what a ridiculous idea."
"Actually Sir, a lot of research has been carried out on the subject," explained Fraser, gently, "studies have revealed that a comatose person's heart rate and respiration change when they hear a familiar voice, they appear to become calmer."
Meg laughed ironically. "Fraser, if she really could hear my voice then she would most certainly not be calmer," she said.
"There is evidence to suggest that the voice of a loved one can help to stimulate the brain into regaining consciousness," Fraser said.
Meg looked at him, as a tear began to form in the corner of her eye. "I didn't know what to say to her..." the tear escaped and ran down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away as she spoke.
"Sir, I'm not sure it's important what you say," Fraser suggested.
"I can't go back," Meg whispered. "I just can't...I can't deal with that." She looked away from Fraser now, bowing her head in shame. "I suppose you think I'm a terrible person," she added.
"Not in the least," replied Fraser, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. That one simple gesture was enough for Meg to crumble and succumb to the feelings she'd been trying to suppress since her sister's accident. She turned and buried her head into Fraser's shoulder as she wept and he could do nothing except wrap his arms around her and hold her.
XxX
A short while later, Fraser walked down the hall and was pleased to hear Amy giggling. He pushed open the door and found Ray trying and failing to make a house of cards. Every time the playing cards collapsed, Ray pulled an exaggerated face of annoyance and Amy clearly found his frustrations amusing. Inspector Thatcher had asked for some privacy and Fraser respected that. He'd never experienced her raw emotions like that before and he was concerned about her. Ray glanced up as Fraser entered the room. "Hey buddy," he said.
"Where's Auntie Meg?" asked Amy, the smile suddenly gone from her face.
Fraser took the pack of cards from Ray. "She's in her office," he replied, quickly creating a perfect house of cards, at a near impossible speed, on the table in front of them. "She has a few things to do, she won't be long."
Amy's eyes were wide now. So were Ray's. "Wow!" said Amy, "how did you do that?"
"Get used to it kid," said Ray, shaking his head, "he's like, um, a Super Mountie or somethin'."
"That's just silly Ray," retorted Fraser. Amy laughed. "Ray, could I have a word?" asked Fraser, nodding his head in the direction of the door.
"Course buddy," said Ray, getting to his feet, "keep an eye on Dief for me," he said to the little girl and Amy nodded as Ray and Fraser stepped out into the hallway. Fraser briefly explained the situation to Ray.
"Inspector Thatcher will be staying here tonight with Amy as her apartment is still uninhabitable," said Fraser, "although she has suggested they may move to a hotel tomorrow."
"She's gonna regret leavin' Toronto if something does, y'know, happen to her sister," sighed Ray.
"I agree," nodded Fraser, "however she is insistent at this juncture. Perhaps tomorrow, after some sleep, she may change her mind?" Ray nodded as the door to Meg's office opened and she appeared, looking much better than she did when Fraser had left her.
"Talking about me?" she enquired in mild annoyance.
"I'm sorry Sir," replied Fraser uncomfortably, "but Detective Vecchio..."
"I was askin' if you were OK," said Ray, interrupting his friend.
"I'm fine thank you," replied Meg, her voice a little softer now, "and thank you for taking care of Amy for me," she added.
"Hey, it was no trouble," insisted Ray, "she's a good kid."
Meg nodded. "She seems to be," she said, a comment which was rewarded with a puzzled frown from Fraser. "I barely know her," Meg explained, looking at her feet, "the last time I saw her she was four years old."
"She's been through a terrible ordeal," said Fraser, trying to change the subject as she saw Meg's face displaying the regret she felt over her family situation again. "It is rather late and I think she's very tired. She should probably go to to bed now."
"Yes, yes of course," replied Meg, "I'll take her upstairs now."
XxX
About an hour later, Fraser and Ray were playing poker using the pack of cards that Ray had been struggling with earlier. Inspector Thatcher had insisted that she wanted to spend a little time catching up on some work and although Fraser had initially objected, he eventually decided that the best thing was to let her deal with things her own way. "I fold, again," sighed Ray, slapping his cards down on the table.
"Ah," replied Fraser, displaying his fourth winning hand in a row.
"We should really find another game to play," smiled Ray, "I'm gonna run right out of air!"
"I'm sorry Ray," began Fraser, "but these days I have very little difficulty in determining your thoughts from your facial expressions."
Ray laughed. "My poker face doesn't usually suck," he said, "I guess ya know me too well buddy." Fraser nodded. Ray got to his feet. "I gotta go," he said, "see ya tomorrow?"
Fraser replaced the playing cards in their box. "I will be here for most of the morning I imagine," he said, "I am expecting Miss Lavine and her son to return. I really hope that I will be able to issue their passports, otherwise I'm not sure what they'll do?"
Ray slapped his buddy on the back. "You'll think of somethin'" he grinned, "ya always do."
The headed out to the hall and were slightly taken aback to find Turnbull opening the front door. "Oh, Constable Fraser," he said, quite flustered, "I am so sorry to have disturbed you, but I appear to have lost my handkerchief," he said. Ray looked at Fraser and grinned. "I was hoping that you may have found it."
"Sorry Turnbull," replied Fraser, "I'm afraid I haven't. Perhaps you should retrace your steps? Although I should inform you that we have visitors, well, that is, Inspector Thatcher has returned, she's in her office at the present time." Turnbull looked surprised. "Also, her eight year old niece is currently sleeping upstairs."
"Oh," said Turnbull, a little puzzled. "In that case I'll do my best to move around with the utmost stealth." Ray bit hard on his lower lip to suppress a giggle. He couldn't imagine Constable Turnbull behaving stealthily if his life depended on it. Turnbull tiptoed along the hall and Fraser watched him in disbelief. He knocked almost silently on the door of Meg's office, but there was no reply.
"Turnbull," began Fraser, shaking his head, "Inspector Thatcher will need to be aware of your presence if you wish to obtain her permission to enter her office." Turnbull nodded furiously and knocked again, much louder this time. Fraser turned his attention back to Ray.
"I'll call round tomorrow when I'm done at the station Fraser," said Ray, fishing in his jeans pocket for his car keys.
"Right you are," replied Fraser, but before Ray could leave, they were both shocked by a blood curdling scream and the sight of Turnbull running out of the Inspector's office.
"She's dead!" Turnbull was hysterical. "Inspector Thatcher!"
Ray had never seen Fraser move so fast. He followed his partner and Turnbull as they ran into Meg's office and were horrified to see her sprawled face first on the floor. Fraser fell to his knees and felt for a pulse, his own heart pounding in his head as he did so.
"I assumed she wasn't in here after all," Turnbull was babbling, as Ray reached for the telephone on the desk and dialled 911. "So, I...I came in anyway and...and she was just lying there dead!"
"Turnbull!" Fraser yelled, as a sense of relief washed over him, "she's not dead."
"Oh thank heavens," sighed Turnbull.
Fraser began checking Meg for injuries, but as he did so, his delicate senses detected the rather overpowering smell of alcohol on her breath. As he gently moved her into the recovery position, he also noticed the discarded bottle under her desk and sighed a little. "Ray," he said, glancing up at his partner, "I do not believe we are in need of any assistance from the emergency services at this juncture."
Ray immediately caught the look in his partner's eye and while he didn't fully understand what was going on, he informed the emergency operator of the situation and apologetically ended the call. Ray ran round to where Fraser was tending to the Inspector and crouched down beside her. Fraser didn't think it was fair on his superior officer to broadcast the details of her current predicament, but Ray was too sharp and he also spotted the empty bottle. "Oh hell," he said quietly to Fraser. Fraser wasn't sure what to say. Ray got to his feet, desperately trying to think of an excuse for Turnbull to leave. "Y'know, Turnbull, er, I think that, er, the Ice, I mean, the Inspector's real tired right now." Ray manhandled a protesting Turnbull out of the office as he spoke. "She's had a really bad day and, um, so I guess that, er, she just needs someone to help her up the stairs to bed. Fraser can deal with it." They'd reached the front door now and Ray opened it, almost pushing a slightly stunned Constable Turnbull outside. "If I find that hanky, I'll put it on the desk for ya," he said and then adding with a wave of his hand, "goodnight Turnbull!" Ray slammed the front door and ran back to Meg's office.
"Thank you kindly Ray," Fraser managed half a smile. He'd managed to lift Meg into a chair and he was trying to rouse her by gently tapping her cheeks with the back of his hand. He began softly calling her name and she started to make quiet moaning noises in response.
"How much has she had?" enquired Ray. He'd never heard Fraser call the Ice Queen by her first name before.
"I'm not sure," replied Fraser, "that bottle under her desk was new, it was a gift from the French Ambassador and then there's another bottle on her desk. Is that empty too?"
Ray picked up the other bottle and shook it gently. "Almost," he replied, sniffing the bottle and recoiling in disgust. "Smells like cheap stuff," he said, raising his eyebrows to Fraser, "pretty, er, potent though."
Fraser nodded sadly. He shouldn't have left her alone, he thought to himself. He knew that Meg enjoyed a drink now and again and had, on occasion, been known perhaps to overindulge during social situations, but nothing like this. Meg groaned again and her eyes flickered open and a huge smile spread across her face. "Ben?" she croaked and draped her arms around his neck.
Fraser's face turned a deep shade of red. Meg never used his first name either and he hoped Ray would realise that it was just the drink talking. "Maybe I should make some strong coffee?" suggested Ray.
"I believe that would be prudent," agreed Fraser and Ray headed out to the kitchen.
"Was that, was that Decktec, er, was that Vecchhiii...um, er..." slurred Meg.
"Yes, that was Detective Vecchio," acknowledged Fraser.
Meg tapped the side of her nose knowingly, "but we know, we know, don't we Ben," she said smiling, her eyes wide.
Fraser looked puzzled. "Know what Sir?" he asked.
She put her finger on his lips and his whole body stiffened at her touch. "It's our ssshh, our ssshecret," she slurred. "That's he's not really Vecch, Vecchii, er, Vecch..." Meg gave up trying to speak with a sigh.
"It's alright," replied Fraser carefully helping her to her feet. "Let's make you more comfortable." She giggled as she stumbled along the hall with one arm draped around his neck. As Fraser lowered her gently onto the large sofa in the other room, Ray came in with a large mug of coffee.
"Here, drink this," said Ray offering her the cup.
Meg took one look at the coffee and all the colour drained from her face. Fraser took one look at her and then turned to Ray. "Perhaps you could fetch a glass of water instead Ray?" he suggested, hesitating slightly before adding, "and a bucket?"
"Oh, er, yeah," replied Ray, running back out into the kitchen.
"Take some slow, deep breaths," Fraser suggested to Meg.
Meg did as she was told and the wave of nausea passed. She began to giggle again. "I had too much to drink, didn't I!" she said with a smile.
"It would appear so," replied Fraser, quietly.
Meg's smile quickly disappeared and she began to cry again.
Fraser handed her his handkerchief. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
"Ssshh, it's alright," he soothed.
"I was thin...th...thinking about her, about Lizzie," she sobbed.
"I know," replied Fraser. Ray reappeared and handed Meg the glass of water, putting the bucket on the floor at her feet next to Dief. Ray suddenly felt a little uncomfortable and began backing out of the room. Fraser spoke quietly to Meg. "I'll just be a minute," he said and got to his feet, following Ray out into the hall. Meg nodded and sipped at her water.
"She'll be OK when she's, y'know, slept it off," Ray reassured a concerned looking Fraser as he opened the front door. Fraser nodded. "I could stay tonight, if ya need me to?" Ray offered.
Fraser shook his head. "That's very kind of you Ray, but I'll be fine. We'll be fine," he quickly corrected himself. He had never really had to be responsible for other people in this way before and now an eight year old girl and a woman he thought very highly of were both relying on him. He took a deep breath. "Thank you so much for all your help tonight Ray," he said, appreciatively.
"Hey, what are buddies for," grinned Ray. "Call me if you need anything," he said.
Fraser nodded and closed the door behind him. He sighed, steeling himself for a difficult night, but as he walked back into the other room, he was somewhat relieved to find Meg asleep on the sofa, her half empty glass in danger of slipping out of her hand. He lunged forward, grabbing the glass before the contents spilled onto the floor and placed it on the coffee table before swinging her legs around onto the sofa. He carefully arranged the cushions so that she was supported in a semi-upright position and then went to fetch a blanket from the closet in his room, hoping that he wouldn't find his father in there with some inappropriate words of advice. He really didn't think he'd be able to refrain himself tonight from saying something to the irritating older, albeit dead, Mountie that he would no doubt immediately regret.