Polydactyly

I don't know who you are exactly, but you have a strange influence over him, Miss Grentz. I suggest you watch your step. Whoever controls God controls death.

Dream actress for Michelle Grentz: Cate Blanchett or Robin Wright

Two

With thirty years of insomnia under her belt, staying up all night came with a reluctant, well-practiced ease. How she ached for sleep, but she had no desire for the broken fragments of childhood horrors to plague her this night, not with murder so fresh on her eyes.

She cleaned her house top-to-bottom instead of sleeping. It wasn't a large house, a mere four rooms large: kitchen, conjoined dining and living room, bedroom and attic. She supposed the garage might have counted as a fifth room, considering she used it for storage instead of her car. When there wasn't anything left to clean she made a bunt cake and then pan after pan of cupcakes until her counters were buried under them. She set her computer to playing Chopin and soon found herself looking for something else to distract her. Dawn found her with a ceramic mug of tea resting at her wrist and The Times News on her laptop screen. Her baby grand took up most of the dining/living room, but she felt too restless to sit still for it. Her fingers itched. The house smelled of lemon, flour, and bleach.

At 7:00 she flipped through her rolodex for instrument-makers she knew and called in some favors she was owed. She paused over Tobias Budge's card, recalling the man with pinched distaste, and flipped past it, choosing her friend Altier Roosevelt instead. Altier had been carving up stringed instruments for more years than Michelle had been alive; he knew everyone worth knowing in the music world. She eyed the looping calligraphy of his business card as they talked—his own personal font—and when Jack Crawford called at 7:30 on the dot, she passed along the message that Altier was happy to meet with him.

She hadn't expected to be invited along.

"I'm interested in your insight. You made keen observations yesterday that Special Agent Graham agreed with."

"Seems a bit like overkill to me. I don't know what I could tell you about music that Altier doesn't know upside-down and backwards." She said, refraining from sucking chocolate frosting off her fingers while on the phone.

"I find it's better to be over prepared than not prepared enough."

The words made her pause. "Am I suspect?"

Crawford's wry smile could be heard through the phone. "After reviewing your interview and personal information I can assure you that you aren't suspect. We're confident that the killer is a male."

Michelle looked over the obscene piles of cupcakes stacked in her kitchen. She had no interest in letting Crawford get a thumb in her pie, so to speak, but she did think about whom she might hoist her baking off onto now that the week's concerts and rehearsals had been cancelled.

"Alright. Sure."

She couldn't be entirely sure if Will Graham was shy or if he just didn't like people. She was betting on the latter. His handshake was limp at the wrist but tight at the knuckles and he let go quickly. She plucked a long, yellowish hair from his shirtsleeve as it fell away and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger.

"Cats or dogs?"

Crawford looked intrigued. Graham blinked as though taking a snapshot through a camera lens.

"Dogs." He nodded at the Tupperware under her arm. "Cupcakes for breakfast?"

"There's no such thing as a bad time for cupcakes," she said with tired humor. "I don't sleep much, or at all sometimes. When you have that much free time you send a lot of time reading. Or baking. Cupcake?" she offered.

Crawford looked between them and didn't seem too keen on what he saw. He looked hard at Graham. "If you're done sizing each other up, we have an appointment to keep."

Graham looked unapologetic, but quietly thanked her for the pastry through a quivering smile. She thought he looked like a nervous dog sizing up his competition.

Continues next week...

Author's Notes:

Short-ish chapter. It's a red herring-you're not going to be reading the usual "self-insert gets into FBI" here. I haven't the time or tolerance for things that are all the same. Next chapter features a brief cameo from an OC.

Thank you, lovelies, for your reviews. It's more than what I'd hoped for after so long an absence and I am grateful for every one of you.

Love,

Megii