Chapter 10 [Next Morning]

[Jo's Apartment]

Jo tossed and turned in her bed for most of the evening and early morning. Her mind struggled to deal with all of the recent revelations. Oh she could wrap her head around being immortal. Her relationship with Henry was definitely something she treasured.

...yet the near death experiences always left her wasted and frankly embarrassed….

…Clarise's true nature was unsettling to say the least….

…There were others like her including Henry's 'friend', Dijon, from the past…..

…And then there was the whole event at the precinct including Dubois' alter ego frying two other immortals to defend Angela Dubois from death….

Her eyes snapped open. She frowned deeply while staring up at the ceiling. "How do I deal with this? How will we explain it to Reece?" She reclined almost feeling helpless at that last thought. "So much for the career…."

Her phone rang cutting into her thoughts.

"Oh now what?" she muttered drowsily. She reached for the cell sitting on her nightstand and put it slowly to her ear. "Martinez."

"Detective, this is Petersen. You up?" Petersen noted.

"I am now. What's going on now? Sorry I'm still dealing with last night," Jo declared morosely. She knew if he was calling at that point, he'd want her to get Henry and meet him some place official.

"Including your exit from the cellblock? I'm interested in how you pulled that one off." Almost anticipating her panic, he assured her, "Relax. It's a secret between Singleton, me and you. Dr. Morgan is on his way up here. Can you meet us at the Federal Courthouse. 37th and 9th?"

"Can't turn down coffee and donuts, can I?" she quipped.

"Breakfast will be waiting, Detective. Dave's seeing to it as we speak," Petersen assured her.

"Dubois' there? Is it okay?" Jo wondered with uncertainty.

"He's back to normal if that's what you mean. If you can make it ASAP, I'd appreciate it," Petersen continued before concluding, "See you soon, Detective. It will be all right. Take care." He hung up.

That's your view, Chief. He knows? You really did a bang up job in letting them see you! She headed for the shower hoping that there would be a way to smooth things over for Henry's sake as well as hers.

This was going to be some morning too…..

[Half an Hour Later—Federal Courthouse]

Henry emerged from the subway about a half of a block down from the granite structure. As with Jo, his mind sought not to drown in the frenzied situation about them. "Wish I knew what Singleton had up his sleeve." He sighed to himself knowing that in the past, such things meant that he'd move on.

Fortunately the agent in question had vowed his secrecy in the matter.

Wish I could take him at his word. I'll have to see. He walked briskly down the sidewalk and toward the meeting place. As he did so, he noticed a street vendor with floral bouquets in her cart. Jo would appreciate the touch, I'm sure! He turned in her direction. "Good morning, Madame. I'd be interested in buying a bouquet please."

The elderly African-American lady nodded and offered a quick anxious smile. "That'd be nice, Sir. It'll be $7.50."

He counted out ten dollars and handed the bills to her. "Keep the change." Accepting the flowers from her, he sniffed deeply of the pink and white blooms and smiled broadly.

"Nice, aren't they? I love the scent," she observed happily. "One of the perks of having the cart. Thank you, Sir. You have a marvelous day."

"Beautiful flowers are one of life's benefits to be sure. You have a splendid day as well," he concurred before heading off toward the courthouse. Much as he'd suggested, his spirits seemed to lift a bit. He tried to imagine how the flowers might make Jo feel better…

…how he wanted her to feel better and share his own feelings with her….

She's been through so much in such a short time. Still she wants to be with you. Henry, you're a lucky man! He nodded at that sentiment while heading toward the courthouse. Perhaps when they were finished with the proceedings inside, he'd offer her an exquisite lunch at their favorite eatery in Sojo….

…more than likely knowing Jo, she'd want a ham and cheese at the duck pond in Central Park….

Either way it's pure Paradise for us! He climbed about halfway up the stairs before seeing the Duboises doing the same. "Good morning, David and Dr. Dubois. My condolences."

"Thank you," Angela accepted gratefully. "It was quite an evening…not the way we wanted it to go for sure."

Henry studied the other man who seemed perhaps a bit white and peaked for his own good. He could clearly see the ever-so-slight tremoring in the other's hands under a familiar paperboard donut box. He also discerned the heaviness in the professor's eyes. "No. Dr. Donnelly would not have wanted it that way…nor, I believe, would have Dr. Alvaro either if Alexander's assessment was correct."

David slowly raised his head to allow his eyes to meet the coroners. Sadness and pain echoed from them. "No, neither Grandpa Alex nor Grandpa himself would have…wanted that. Funny how it keeps finding me though. Angie and I need to make calls across the Pond as soon as you're done with him. We can fly his body to be buried back there."

Henry nodded in satisfaction. "I will wrap it up this afternoon. Perhaps we might meet the agents inside? I trust that is breakfast?"

"After what happened last night, it was the least we can do," Angela pointed out.

"Angela, it wasn't your fault…either of you. Others are responsible. The NYPD officially dropped the charges against you once the evidence was processed," Henry reported.

"Dijon left the murder weapon and then slunk out of town in the dark, didn't he?" David presumed. "Typical of him…snake." He shuddered with a rather pronounced tone and allowed a brief snarl to escape his lips.

"Dave, it's okay. We're fine," his wife assured him.

"Tell that to Grandpa Alex and Dijon's other victims. Tell that to Peggy, Dr. Samuelsohn and his wife. One day it will stop. I will make the Butcher stop," David asserted.

"Or rather Le Puer shall do the deed? David, I caution you about Lord Bertrand. You don't know him like I do," Henry advised guardedly.

David sighed. "Dr. Morgan, I was waiting to give you something as a thank you gift. However I think now is the time. Angie?"

"Here you go, Doctor," she concurred. She slipped a book from her large handbag and handed it to Henry.

Henry considered the thick tome in his hands admiring the weighty feel. Flipping through the pages, even a quick skim discerned the depth of scholarship and footnoting in its contents. As the cover flipped back shut, his eyes went wide…..

…it was about Dijon….

Henry saw the dust jacket's photo and looked up at David who simply nodded.

"Yes, Dr. Morgan, I can say I've written the book on him. In order to stay alive and keep those I love alive, I researched and wrote that to learn more about that peacock. That is about his mortal existence before his transformation into what he is now. Read it. What you saw last night coincides with his typical m. o. He takes what he wants. He eliminates loose ends. You'll know what an efficient creep he is," David elaborated. "If she pushes it, tell Reece she's lucky. Dijon could have wiped that entire precinct clean." He checked his watch. "Garth and Steve are waiting. I promised them these. Let's table this until we get in there."

"That would suffice. I was just waiting for Detective Martinez," Henry indicated while straightening himself up. He took a deep breath.

"Hence the flowers? Nice touch," Angela complimented.

"I thought as much as well," Henry concurred. Admittedly he didn't feel comfortable talking in the open about such things. Still he wanted to make sure Jo was all right. Seeing her emerge from the parking garage across the street, he waved to her broadly.

Jo crossed the street quickly and walked briskly up to the trio in question. Put the suspicions on hold. Doesn't seem like Dubois' as 'normal' as Petersen would think. "Hi, Everyone. Breakfast committee?"

"Of a sort. Good to see that you're all right, Detective," Angela replied pleasantly. "By the way, I have something for you." She reached into her pocket and produced Jo's necklace. "You left that behind when you…disappeared. I didn't want anyone finding it." She handed it to Jo.

"Thanks." Jo accepted the necklace gratefully and looked to Henry anxiously. "Sorry about that. Last night was…"

"When it happens, Jo, everything gets left behind. I understand. Hold still," Henry lifted her hair and helped secure the necklace's clasp to hold the bauble in place. Then he let her mane drop back into place ever so gently. "At least we have friends who can look out for us. Shall we go inside then? I presume they're waiting."

"They are and knowing our intrepid duo, they're starving," Dubois assumed with an amused smirk. "Let's get these through security. Then we can hear what they have to say."

"Sounds great," his wife agreed. She glanced around as they finished climbing the granite stairs and walked into the building. They went through the metal detector with no issues.

"FBI's waiting for you folks in Room 312 upstairs," the guard, a middle aged African-American noted flatly. "Have a great day, Folks."

"You too. Thanks," Jo expressed. After they got into the elevator and started up the stairs. "Petersen said he'd keep secrets. Umm…how is he about that?"

"If he said it, he's like Fort Knox in that regard," Angela assured her. "They've kept Dave's situation under wraps since high school."

"They've seen the whole gambit. Trust me they're tougher than the typical government agents," Dubois concurred. "Besides, Dr. Morgan, I still owe you."

"I consider it even but if we ever need help in the future perhaps?" Henry queried.

"Legally," Jo emphasized while still not crazy about the whole vigilante thing she'd seen on the previous night.

"Speaking for myself, I don't have a problem. Try telling him that though," Dubois replied before pointing at his head for emphasis.

"Yeah your inner wild child." Jo glanced at him anxiously. "He's…different."

"He's that from what people tell me. I don't know," Dubois declared. "When he comes out, I have no memory of it. On last night, I'll have to take your word for it." Reaching the designated room, he rapped on it. "Honey dip crew for the starving Bond crew!"

Singleton opened the door and stuck his head out. "Cute, Dave. Come in. That goes for everyone else as well. Steve will be off the phone in a minute." He opened it the rest of the way and ushered them into the meeting room.

"So everything is finished then?" Henry queried expectantly.

"As soon as you sign off on Dr. Donnelly's body, Dave and Angie will take him home," Singleton reported. "Coffee, guys? Just made it."

Petersen disconnected the call he was making and slid his phone back into his blazer pocket. "Good morning, Everyone. I trust you're feeling better?"

"Still collecting ourselves after last night, Steve," Dubois assessed with an almost sickly grin on his face.

"Yeah well we don't have to worry about the NYPD making issues for any of you. I just spoke with Commissioner Paulson. He wanted to express his appreciation for keeping the mess contained at the Cloisters and at the precinct. He's had the case file against you wiped, Angie. I've done the same for the security footage in the cellblock. Detective Martinez, there's no trace of you being there either. See you found your necklace. I looked all over for it," Petersen indicated. He motioned toward the table. "I recovered your revolver however."

"Thanks for that at least. Any word on those creeps or the missing book?" Jo expressed. She slid the gun into its sheath at her side and felt glad for its familiar weight there.

"No sign of Dijon, his cronies or that damn tome," Singleton noted. "Knowing the Butcher, he's long gone with it."

"If that book's anywhere nearby, I'd feel it," Dubois added while setting out plates for everyone. "So are we finished then?"

"With this particular case, yeah. Dave, I don't have to tell you to be careful with Dijon. That book is nothing but trouble," Petersen advised.

"We're very well aware of that, Steve. Thank you though," Angela interjected. "I don't know what we're going to do with Grandpa Alex's things."

"We have the family to help us. Let's worry about mourning first. All right?" Dubois replied as caringly as he could. He embraced her tightly as her eyes watered. "It's okay. Let it out."

Angela sobbed silently in her husband's arms.

"As I said, enough pain," Dubois reiterated to the duo. "We'll be back." He helped his wife from the room.

"Wow. I know she and her grandfather were close but…." Jo presumed.

"They've seen more than their share I would imagine," Henry informed her. He recalled well the malice in his past associate. Still he'd never seen the aftermath….

…aftermath such as what he and Jo had seen over the previous 24 hours….

"Remind me not to get in that Butcher's way, Henry. When we get back, I will want some questions answered on him," Jo noted firmly.

"Nor would I want to be there either," Henry agreed while grabbing for a plain doughnut. He mused over the case at hand. Why do you play the game, Bertrand? Can't you see the damage you do? He bit into his breakfast with a heavy heart.

They'd skirted a political storm but other potential ones awaited.

And he'd watch out for them both….watch carefully indeed….