The Next Morning ….
Meg met Fraser on the sidewalk outside the consulate. She noted the flash of concern in his eyes as he stopped at the foot of the cement steps to allow her to go first.
Diefenbaker sat on his haunches, looking from one human to the other, noting their body language. The air hung heavy with the pheromones they both produced. He wondered why they didn't give into the natural way of things already. They both smelled ready, and the body language was right.
"Good morning, Constable Fraser." Meg greeted him, smoothing her soft green, cotton blouse. It's scoop neck and curve hugging material flattered her figure. She wore a knee length, tan skirt with nude heels, drawing the eye down her long, shapely legs.
"Good morning, Inspector Thatcher, you appear well rested." The Mountie forced his blue eyes to focus on her cinnamon colored lips.
"Thank you. Have you given the description of the ring to Detective Vecchio yet?" Meg cut to the chase, sipping her coffee as she took the first step up.
"No, Sir, I was just coming to check-in before going to the precinct." Fraser began toying with the buckle of his Sam Browne belt as he spoke.
"Let me check my voice mail and I'll drive to the precinct, I would like to see that this is taken seriously." although Meg didn't know how she would do that without telling Vecchio that she'd seen it in a vision.
"Very well, Sir." Fraser held the front door once she'd unlocked it, her scent carrying lazily on the breeze.
Ray stood in the hall leaned against the door of Interview One. He wore a loose, rayon shirt with a loud, teal and magenta print. His shirt didn't seem to impress the leggy red head Fraser recognized as an undercover vice officer.
"So, my Riv is turning corners, fish tailing all over the place, but I pull my gun and try for the scum bag's tires anyway. So, I get off one round, comes close, but,"
Fraser cleared his throat as he came up behind Ray, making eye contact with Detective Kitt.
"Good morning, Constable Fraser." she greeted him in a breathy voice, a coy smile on her full lips.
"Detective Kitt, hello." the Mountie doffed his hat.
"Good morning to you too, Fraser." Ray turned to face him, annoyed.
"Detective Vecchio, may we speak to you?" Inspector Thatcher stepped from behind Fraser, her dark eyes cold as she surveyed the scantily clad vice officer.
"Yeah, sure, let's step in here." Ray opened the door to the interview room. He watched Detective Kitt wave at Fraser before sauntering down the hall. The Canadians followed him through the gun metal gray door. Fraser pulled out a chair for the Inspector while Ray scooted one out for himself. He watched as the Dragon Lady nodded at Fraser, her expression unusually nervous. Fraser nodded in return before pulling a folded piece of paper out of the inside band of his Stetson.
"Last night I recalled that Parker wore this ring on a chain around his neck the day of my attack, I have reason to believe it once belonged to Mildred Thompson. I believe it's a souvenir, his first." Meg watched amusement and disbelief crossed his face. She knew how he felt. If a victim were to give her mysterious evidence she would have very politely pacified them before trashing the sketch.
The vehemence in the Inspector's voice gave Ray pause. He read her body language; the way she sat forward, hands flat on the table. She believed it to be a fact. As a fellow law office, the Inspector's word was good enough for Ray. Fraser seemed to be on board with the theory as well, which sealed it in Ray's book.
"Did Casper Mildred drift in last night and tell you all this?" Ray couldn't hold in the smart ass remark for love nor money.
"Detective Vecchio, if you aren't going to take me seriously then I'm sure Lieutenant Welsh will be happy to reassign the case to someone who will." Meg replied icily, standing to leave, her dark tan purse already on her shoulder. He'd hit too close to the truth for comfort.
"Okay, okay, Inspector if you say it was Mildred Thompson's, it was hers, I'm just not sure how you know about the Thompson's murder, it was years ago." Ray gestured expressively with his hands as he followed Meg to the door.
"She was a former resident of my apartment." Meg explained vaguely. Ray blinked once, processing before continuing.
"I'll add the ring to the APB." he stood up to walk to Elaine's empty desk.
"Thank you kindly, Detective." Meg nodded, adjusting her blouse collar.
"Constable Fraser, I'd like to go to the hospital, I'd like to check on Jenny Stillwell before she's released." Meg stood slowly, her head beginning to ache. Her teeth ached.
"Let me bring the car around, Sir." Fraser settled his Stetson into place before heading toward the door. He turned back halfway to the door to glance at her, concern in his eyes.
Meg let a smile pick up the corners of her lips. They traded understanding nods before he turned back. Neither of them saw ray watching the silent exchange.
Jenny Stillwell lay propped up in her windowless hospital room. She listened as the television played a ball game. Her left arm hung useless in a sling. Nurses had been in and out all day and night one more tap on the door didn't interest her.
"Miss Stillwell?" a husky, woman's voice asked.
"Hmm? Yes." she croaked, moving the bed to sit up farther. Jenny blinked when she saw the uniquely clad officer who stepped through the door. Behind him stood a severe looking brunette with a pained expression.
"I'm Inspector Thatcher, this is Constable Fraser, we're here to see about you." Thatcher's tone was pleasant but strained.
"Inspector? Constable? What kind of officers are you?" Jenny looked the handsome but silent Mountie over.
"We are with the RCMP, ma'am. We are currently stationed here, in Chicago, with the Canadian Consulate." Fraser felt the Inspector kick his foot sharply, an order to shut up.
"I was also attacked by Austin Parker." Meg moved to the bedside, Fraser trailing behind.
"Has he been caught?" Jenny's hoarse voice grated on Meg's ears. Hers had sounded just as rough.
"No, not yet." Meg clasped her hands in front of her. "I know you've spoken with Detective Vecchio, but I wanted to ask you some questions." she stood at the foot of the bed, both hands gripping the foot board. Pain had been mounting since leaving the station. Her teeth hurt, her neck hurt and her stomach felt queasy. Before she could form the first question, the Inspector's eyes rolled back in her head. A rush of images spun like a tornado in her brain. She saw Jenny drop her house key in her purse and walk down the stairs toward her car. She hummed the theme to her favorite, childhood cartoon. Emotions splattered Meg, hitting with hurricane force; happiness, curiosity, warm fuzzies, among others. Jenny slid her key into her mid size Ford. Before she could turn the key, a strong hand shot out and took her by the throat. A sharp yank on the back of her neck made her gasp, before she screamed. Minutes later Jenny crumpled to the pavement, unconscious. Parker took off in her car.
"Inspector Thatcher, are you alright?" a rough hand caressed her cheek before slipping behind her head. Fraser's blurry face filled Meg's vision. She found herself pressed against his chest, his other arm supporting her weight.
"Are you okay, Ms. Thatcher?" Jenny asked, peering around Fraser's shoulder.
Meg tried to pull herself together but her knees wouldn't cooperate.
"Inspector?" Fraser asked again, louder.
"Fraser, I saw it, I saw Parker attack her." Meg whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. She clung to Ben's arm until she could stand alone. Even so, his arm lingered behind her.
"Attack who? Who did he attack?" Jenny asked, adjusting her sling. Fraser filled her in with the barest version of the facts. He kept one eye on the Inspector as she rested in a plastic chair. The visions had taken quite a toll on his commanding officer. She had withdrawn into herself even farther than usual. Her professional shield sported cracks.
"Wow, I thought that clairvoyant stuff was just for us Americans." Jenny's eyes sparkled, her voice barely audible.
"Were you wearing a gold initial charm when you were attacked?" Meg ignored the other woman's wonder.
Jenny nodded enthusiastically as she set down at the foot of the bed.
"Parker grabbed the charm, breaking the chain." Fraser theorized.
"Another souvenir." Meg added, using a magazine to fan herself. The room grew silent as all three pondered a moment.
"Ugg, if only these stupid visions showed the future instead of the past." Meg complained.
"Be careful what you ask for." Robert Fraser chipped in, appearing beside his son.
"I suppose you're right." Meg agreed, looking up at the father-son duo.
"Who are you talking to?" Jenny croaked.
"We should get back to the consulate." Meg stood up, avoiding the question.
"Ms. Stillwell, please call if you need anything." Fraser pulled the consulate's business card from his Stetson.
"Thank you, Constable." she mouthed more than spoke. Meg nodded and edged toward the door. Jenny waved, smiling weakly.
Together, Meg and Fraser walked down the stark, white corridor, past the nurses' station. From her rigid posture and quick pace, Ben guessed she was hiding tears. He could understand her need for reserve; very few had seen him anything less than stoic.
"She isn't holding up very well, Son." Robert Fraser commented, hands behind his back. Meg stopped, spun on her heel and marched back the few steps to the Frasers.
"I am holding up just fine, thank you," her eyes blazed as she peered from one to the other. "and I would appreciate it if you would keep your opinion to yourself, Sergeant Fraser." Meg threw up her hands before turning.
"Now see here, Inspector," Robert started after her.
"Dad!" Ben called, "Dad!" he sped up, "Dad!"
"What!" the elder Fraser stopped, annoyed.
"Let her go, Dad." Ben's dark blue eyes pleaded with him. That expression had undone him since the first time he'd seen it on Caroline's face. Ben had always reminded him of his late wife. They shared certain looks and habits. Looking at Ben had cut like a knife for the longest time, still did.
"Okay, Son, I'll play nice." Robert gave Benton a trite apology.
"Constable, am I to drive myself to the consulate?" Meg asked expectantly, retracing her steps. Fraser jogged to catch up.
