The confrontation
Chapter 4
Lieutenant Anita Van Buren was in her office early. She was looking out her office window at the almost emptied precinct. This place sure could use some fixing-up, she thought to herself. The green paint of the 2-7 was cracked and peeling, many of the blinds were broken, the light fixtures were rusting, and the machines were archaic.
But then, she mused, how many great detectives have passed through these old wooden doors? Her mind conjured up images of Logan, Rey, Ed, Joe, Nina, Cyrus, Kevin and ...Lennie, oh, Lennie, Anita shook her head, recalling a few of the snide remarks from her favorite detective. There will never be anyone like Lennie.
She again looked around the crumbling building. No, it's best the 2-7 remained untouched as it is, she determined, if only for the memories.
"Hello, Lieutenant?"
Mike stood at the doorway as Anita looked over in his direction.
"Yes?" Anita questioned, surprised that someone was here so early to see her, "May I help you?"
He walked further in, "I'm Michael Cutter," Mike introduced himself as they shook hands.
Ah, the new EADA, Anita thought.
She assessed the younger man who stood in front of her. Hmmm...Definitely professional looking with a...maverick demeanor. She could sense these driven, stubborn types a mile away. Anita recalled how she had that same instant reaction the first day she came face to face with Jack McCoy.
"Yes, Mr. Cutter, from the DA's office, " Anita knew exactly who he was, "I'm Lieutenant Van Buren," she gestured to the empty seat across her desk, "Do sit, counsellor. And tell me, what can I do for you?"
"I'm up against one of the strangest problems I've ever encountered," Mike remarked, once he sat.
"Oh?" Anita lifted a questioning brow, "Already, Mr. Cutter? And you figure if it's strange, it's best to come here to my office? Should I be flattered?"
Mike gave a slight smile. He could tell dealing with Anita Van Buren would never be dull.
"I never visit anyone merely to flatter them, Lieutenant, " Mike stated respectfully, "I just figured you might be interested in this scenario. Seems Miss Rubirosa and I were asked to help prevent a murder."
Anita had seen it all, heard it all. At least that's what she thought, until now.
"You don't say, Mr. Cutter? I didn't realize the DA's office was extending its circle of responsibilities to include murder prevention. Please continue."
Mike explained to her the visit from Jenny Lupo, Cyrus' sister-in-law. At the end of the story he informed her that the conversation was to be kept between themselves, with no mention to any of her detectives.
"I see." Anita said in her usual calm way, once she heard the entire story, "And what do you expect me to do with this knowledge?"
Mike handed Anita the envelope containing the pill he had taken from Connie's desk.
"We need to find out the chemical make- up of this pill ASAP," he said, "it might possibly turn out to be cyanide, arsenic, or some other deadly drug."
Anita stared at the envelope, "So what you want me to do is to use my influence in the crime lab to find out the contents of this pill and then inform you as to the results immediately because, obviously, I have nothing better to do here with my time...am I reading you right, Mr. Cutter?"
"I figure the lab people would hop to it if the request came from you, Lieutenant," Mike agreed, "and it sure would be nice to prevent a murder instead of always having to deal with the aftereffects of it."
He had a point there.
Anita accepted the envelope and put it down on her desk.
"I'm intrigued," Anita admitted, "but I'm betting that is not the only reason you've dropped by with this envelope."
It may be harder to pull the wool over her eyes than I thought, Mike concluded.
But he would try anyway.
"Whatever do you mean, Lieutenant?" Mike asked innocently.
Anita sighed. So it was going to be like that.
"A woman comes to you with a ridiculous story about a possible murder," began Anita slowly, "She tells you and ADA Rubirosa her cockamamie theory. If you don't take it seriously and the hypothetical victim is found murdered, the woman is off the hook because she had already warned you that it will happen. If, however, you've consulted with the police department after the woman's visit with you but before the actual murder takes place, then we, the police, take the blame instead of the DA's office. So, in a nutshelll you expect the police to take the heat. Did I get that just about right, Mr. Cutter?"
He was right.
She was brilliant.
Mike would not deny it, "I guess that is what's called passing the buck."
Anita returned a knowing look to him, "You really need to call it what it is: the one left holding the bag."
He nodded with a slight smile.
"Touche," Mike stated with new respect, "I see we have an understanding."
This new EADA should be interesting to deal with, Anita determined.
"Yes, we do, Mr. Cutter."
.
.
Half an hour later, Mike was back at the DA's office.
"You did what?" Connie looked accusingly at Mike. He had gone to her office and told her of his visit with the Lieutenant, "Didn't Jenny Lupo ask us NOT to go to the police?"
"This isn't any police officer," Mike stated, "I consulted with a ranked officer. I think it's important that in my capacity as a supervisor that I keep the head of detectives informed about something in case I need their help in the future. And Lieutenant Van Buren promised not to inform the other detectives of our conversation."
But by this time, Connie was not amendable to listening to his reasoning. Not when he took action without consulting her.
"Mike, I can't believe you took the envelope without asking me!" Connie stated adamantly.
"I'm actually glad I did," Mike countered, his eyes steadily watching her.
"And why is that?" she challenged, still annoyed.
"...because it got you to call me Mike!"
"...What?" Connie was caught off guard, but she quickly recovered, "I assure you, I won't make that mistake in the future!"
"I wouldn't say you calling me Mike a mistake," he jested, "I'd call it more a happy accident."
And he could tell from the way her face had softened that the ice was slowly melting.
"...Nevertheless," she warned him, "don't ever take anything from my desk without discussing it with me first!" she looked flustered.
"Okay ,maybe I was wrong to act on my own without consulting you first," Mike sounded defensive, "but isn't it the end results that counts? We'll be getting back the lab results immediately!"
"You do realize that my legs are not broken and I could have hand-carried the envelope with the pill to the lab and gotten the same results?"
"Okay, so next time I'll be sure to check to see if you have a cast on your leg before I do something," he managed to keep a straight face. It took all of Connie's willpower not the break her solemn face.
"See that you do, Mr. Cutter!"
He heaved out a frustrated sigh.
The ice had stopped melting and was back in the freezer.
"So it's back to being called Mr. Cutter again."
"You are my supervisor," Connie said evenly.
"Not until Monday," he pointed out.
When he first met Connie at Macy's, he had thought her to be a beautiful, intelligent woman with a warm heart. But perhaps he had misjudged her. So far, she's been shown to be a stubborn, overbearing assistant. But no matter what he thought of her, she managed to make his heart give an extra thump just by entering the room.
Except now, she seemed to be more interested in giving him a thump on his head, he thought. Which, actually, was for the better. They would never get on a personal level. After all, as her supervisor, he would never cross that line into something more personal. Never.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked slightly back and forth.
"I'll be sure to consult you next time, Miss Rubirosa," he contritely said, "now, if you'll excuse me, I have an office that needs organizing."
Connie watched his backside as he headed out the door. She had been rather hard on him; it was so unlike her. But something about him always brought out...a different side of her. Why were her emotions always so raw in his presence? And even more confusing, why did she feel disappointment to see him leave?.
"Mr. Cutter," she called out his name, "uh...Mike?"
He turned quickly back around, "Yes?"
What now? She really didn't have anything to say to him.
She swallowed hard, "Welcome to the DA's office."
Mike stood watching her for a second, wishing he could understand her better.
As his heart gave a little thump.
"Thanks," Mike responded, and then he was gone.
.
.
An hour later, Connie was at the coffeeshop around the corner from the DA's office.
"So you'll help me, right?" Jenny was sitting across from Connie in one of the booths, "I mean, I can't afford to quit. If I leave my employment, that Wright guy has the resources to hunt me down."
"Yes, I will," Connie said, her mind somewhat distracted.
She bit her lip, thinking how frustrated Mike got her. Connie was always known to be someone who got along with everyone in the office. Yet, just seeing him, with those intense blue eyes, and boyishly layered hair and that intense energy and...
"...and then I fell into a vat of jello..." Jenny was saying.
"...that's nice," Connie's mind was still drifting when Jenny's words of falling into a vat of jello finally sunk in, "Whaat?...jello?"
Jenny snorted, "Just testing you to see if you were listening. You've got something else on your mind?"
"No, not really."
But she answered too quickly.
"Will Mr. Cutter be working with us, too?" Jenny probed and noticed a glimmer of interest showing in Connie's eyes.
"I'm not sure; I think so."
Connie tried to casually sip her coffee, but the mug was shaking in her hand.
It was another sign for Jenny that her hunch was right.
Mike Cutter had an effect on Connie.
"He seems very nice and helpful," Jenny gave Connie a sideways glance before she added, "...and he's rather attractive, too."
Connie's face shot up, "Really? You think he's attractive? I...hadn't notice," she looked as though she was giving it some thought, "Hmmm... I guess he's alright. Rather infuriating, though, if you ask me."
She tried to sound nonchalant, but she couldn't even look Jenny in the face.
And Jenny noticed that, too, "Oh-kay."
"O-kay?" Connie repeated. She could feel herself blushing, "What is that suppose to mean?"
"I'm agreeing with you," Jenny simply said, "He's infuriating."
"Yes, he is..." Connie said, and then as an afterthought she said, "but maybe not all the time..."
Jenny smiled.
It was so obvious. It was written all over Connie's face.
She had it bad for her boss, Mike Cutter.
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