The Consulate ….
Ben walked back to the consulate just in time for lunch. The church bell across the street chimed it's twelfth chime, releasing Turnbull from sentry duty.
"Good afternoon, Constable Fraser, how are you?" Turnbull stepped out of position and in step with Fraser.
"I'm fine, thank you kindly for asking." Ben opened the door for them and proceeded inside. Inspector Thatcher stepped out of her office to meet them.
"Ah, there you are, it's about time." She waved Fraser into her office, ignoring the fact that he was technically off duty.
"My superiors in Ottawa are breathing down my neck to get the Hellman paperwork. I need you to finalize your report." Meg sat down and grabbed her coffee cup.
"Yes, Sir, is that all?" Fraser asked, holding his Stetson in front of him.
"I'll see you at two-thirty to go pick up Calvin, then we're going to the Social Services office together. That's all." Meg nodded before sifting through a stack of files on her desk.
"Understood." Fraser took it as his cue to leave.
Fraser and Thatcher stood in the principal's office waiting for Calvin. He'd been called for all to hear on the PA system
"Is everything okay? Do I have to go back to Mom's?" Calvin asked, looking from one blank, adult face to the other.
"No, Calvin, but we are going to the Social Services office." Inspector Thatcher explained.
"Thank you kindly, Mr. Branch." Fraser nodded to the principal before turning to follow the Inspector.
"Do we have to go?" Calvin met Dief on the sidewalk, stroking his head for comfort.
"Yes, I'm afraid so, there is a lot to discuss with Ms. Roma." Meg answered.
Calvin noticed her grave expression. "I wish I could just live with you guys, I could help out around the consulate until time to go to bed, I could earn my keep." He saw both adults look away.
"It isn't that simple, Calvin, we have to follow the law." Fraser spoke, avoiding eye contact.
"That stinks." The boy muttered. Little did he know, both Mounties whole heartedly agreed.
Inspector Thatcher unlocked the passenger side door of her car for Fraser, who unlocked the back door for Dief and Calvin. The black sedan seated them efficiently but comfortably.
"Are you buckled up?" Thatcher asked Calvin, watching him in the rear view mirror before starting the car.
"Yes." He answered, staring out the window at passing cars. Soccer moms in minivans slid past, 'proud parent of ….' stickers on their bumpers.
Dief stuck his muzzle up front, beside Meg's face. He sniffed her before moving over to Fraser.
"What is his problem." She demanded, "If your wolf gets sick, you're cleaning it, Fraser." Meg warned him.
"Oh, Diefenbaker isn't sick, Sir, he hasn't been inside a Volvo before, he has a passing interest in imported vehicles." Fraser explained matter-of-factly.
"It's better than watching Coach sniff our skates looking for the guy responsible for trashing the guest locker room." Calvin volunteered.
"I've heard he does that on occasion." Meg met the boy's gaze in the rear view mirror. They both shivered at the thought.
"Is it a Mountie thing or just Coach?" Calvin asked, grinning from ear to ear.
"It's a characteristic unique to Constable Fraser, and his wolf." Meg answered, glancing into the back seat.
"My work in the Yukon has mostly been hundreds of kilometers from any sort of laboratory equipment for proper analysis, it's been necessary to perform field testing with what's available." Fraser defended himself.
"Relax, Coach, we were just teasing." Calvin leaned forward, tapping the Mountie on the shoulder.
"Ah, I see, you were 'giving me a hard time' as Ray would say." Fraser nodded, finally understanding.
After two Inuit stories, Meg steered the car into a parking space on the bottom level of the Illinois Social Services' parking structure. She dreaded going inside. She wanted to drive to the consulate and have Calvin do his homework in her office until time for dinner. Perhaps Fraser would join them again?
The quartet walked up to the reception desk as if it were a gallows and they were on death row. Meg laid her hand on Calvin's shoulder in time to brush Fraser's fingers doing the same. She glanced up at him. She saw the concern and reluctance in his stormy blue eyes. Meg wished she could tell him she felt sorry for the whole situation.
"How may I help you?" A forty-something man in an off white shirt and black tie asked, looking from the Mountie's unusual uniform to the woman's no nonsense expression.
"We would like to see Callestina Roma, please, it's about Calvin Hellman." Inspector Thatcher used her take no guff voice.
"Just a moment, I'll let her know you're here." The balding man dialed the social worker's extension.
"She'll be out in a moment, have a seat." The receptionist pointed toward singularly ugly, orange plastic chairs lining the wall opposite him. The four of them took a seat, Diefenbaker at Calvin's feet.
"Do you think she'll put me in a foster home, Coach?" Calvin whispered, scratching Dief between the ears.
"I don't know, Calvin, hopefully we will be able to get in touch with your grandmother instead." Fraser offered the only bright spot he could see in the situation.
"I don't know my grandmother, what if she's just like Mom?" Calvin persisted, his eyes wide and searching.
"There's no need to worry, Calvin, the Inspector and I will make certain you're cared for."
Meg watched him lay a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder before meeting his worried gaze.
"Hello, Inspector Thatcher?" A woman's voice drew their attention to a short red head with the stereotypical freckles and green eyes. She wore her curly hair loose with dangling, wooden bead earrings.
"Yes, I'm Inspector Thatcher." Meg stood up, striding ahead of Fraser and Calvin. Dief brought up the rear. He sniffed the air then relaxed.
"This way." Ms. Roma gave Fraser a lingering once over.
"I should have gotten him to call Social Services, she'd have it taken care of already." Meg thought to herself, feeling somewhat territorial over Fraser.
Callestina Roma led the party of four to her small office. Meg took a seat, gesturing for Calvin to as well. Fraser stood behind her, against the wall. Dief edged his way around the desk, sniffing at the filing cabinet in the corner. If possible, the office measured smaller than Fraser's.
"Did we speak on the phone earlier today?" Roma looked from the strapping Mountie to the shrew faced woman boring a hole through her.
"Yes, we did, I'm Inspector Meg Thatcher, this is Constable Fraser." Meg succinctly outlined the reason for their visit.
"Ms. Hellman's mother, yes. We've tried to contact her in the past with no success." Roma shrugged.
"May I have her name and last known phone number, I have more resources at my disposal to find her." Meg purred, ever the diplomat.
"Sure, I'm swamped." Roma typed on the computer for a few minutes, found what she sought and wrote it on a post-it note.
"Thank you kindly." Meg took the note then handed it up to Fraser.
"Where are you staying, Calvin?" Roma asked, the first time she'd spoken to the boy.
"I slept over at the Inspector's house last night, she checked my homework and everything." The boy volunteered. "I wanted to sleep at the consulate, I've never heard of anyone going to another country but never leaving the city."
"That sounds interesting. What do you say you go out and wait for a minute, I have to talk to the Inspector and the Constable a minute." Roma soft soaped him with a generic, charming smile.
"Okay, but I don't want to go to a foster home." Calvin stood up, his expression defiant.
"Dief, go with him." Fraser knelt down to the wolf's level. The white wolf gave him an affirmative huff and followed Calvin out of the office.
"I don't understand your connection to the boy." Callestina directed her statement toward Meg.
"My junior officer is one of Calvin's hockey coaches. I accompanied Constable Fraser to the Hellman residence." Meg answered succinctly.
"Calvin isn't some side project for you, Inspector, he's a boy who needs some semblance of stability. You can't promise him he'll be taken care of and then dump him back at his mother's when he's inconvenient or you don't feel like dealing with his issues. Do you understand?" Ms. Roma leaned across the desk, her green eyes boring a hole into Meg.
Fraser watched the color rise in the Inspector's face and her breathing quicken. He recognized all the signs of a tongue lashing coming on. The Mountie debated whether or not to interfere.
"Ms. Roma, I'll have you know I take my promises very seriously, nor do I shirk my duties." The Inspector's tone was dangerously dark.
"Good, because I'll be visiting your home for a fitness assessment." Callestina Roma didn't back down.
Fraser saw the wheels turning in the Inspector's mind and stepped in.
"Thank you kindly, Ms. Roma, have a good day." Fraser laid a timid hand on the Inspector's shoulder. It wouldn't do for Calvin's social worker and Meg have a cat fight. A sliver of the Mountie's baser nature wondered what it would look like to see the two attractive women fighting.
"Good day, Constable, Inspector." Roma nodded civilly.
Fraser felt the Inspector glare up at him more than saw it. He would be the next one on the receiving end of a tongue lashing.
"Hey, what did she say?" Calvin asked. Fraser saw his face darken when he noticed the tension between the adults.
"Ms. Roma gave us your grandmother's last known address and telephone number. I'll look into it as soon as I get to the consulate." Meg answered, her attitude lightening as she spoke.
"Jimmy said Granny was probably screening her calls, when she saw a Chicago number she'd ignore it, ignore Mom." Calvin rubbed Dief's head.
"We can work around that, Calvin." Fraser sat down beside the boy, laying a comforting hand on his thin shoulder.
"Thanks, Coach." The boy rewarded him with a smile.
"You are most welcome."
Author's Note- As I am not a social worker, I have absolutely no idea how such things are dealt with. Please excuse any errors I have made. Also, I have no idea what Illinois chooses to call it's child social work department. Also, St. Andrew's is a figment of my imagination.
Grandma Hogan lives in Indiana
