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Clarice held the hot cup of coffee in her hands when she heard the stairs creak under body weight. She turned her head in time to see Bella shuffling down the hallway groggily with the stuffed hawk Hannibal got her hugged against her chest. Despite how painful the moment had been, she was glad her daughter woke up from the nightmare to break her out of the fog of her initial shock. "Hey, how you feeling?"
"Like my life is being threatened." Bella rolled her eyes before moving further into the room to see the news playing on the TV. "Another victim?"
"Someone found her this morning. They think she was killed late last night, not far from here." Clarice explained before holding out her arm for Bella, happy when she huddled against her side. She didn't mention that the new victim looked like herself. Last night's events were already traumatic, and Bella had been shaken by her nightmare of seeing both her parents as hanging corpses. In this moment, it was too much information for her seventeen year old. "Your father and I think it would be best for you to go to school today. He can keep an eye on you there, and there are plenty of witnesses. You'll be safer there."
Bella sighed before glancing around the room. "I assume he already left." She didn't need to wait for Clarice's answer. There was an air of his presence, the same kind when Clarice was present. It was like being stared at long enough to feel the eyes on you. Their presence was a feeling more than anything else. "It'd be nice to wake up and actually have him here."
Clarice smiled. "It will happen soon." She stroked Bella's hair, looking back up at the TV. "You have a busy day today. That should keep your mind off of all of this at least. Someone is coming by to fix the door today. An agent is coming by to watch the house. Delia said she'd send over a couple more to watch us today."
"But, that means we can't see Dad." Bella stated with a slight frown.
"I know. I thought of that too." Clarice sighed. "There's no way Delia would let us stay here alone with no one to guard the house, and it's too risky for him to be here with an FBI agent outside. So, it looks like we'll be bumming here together for the weekend." She reached over for the remote and turned the channel before a photo of the victim could be posted up on the screen. "I did manage to keep your agent outside the school across the street from the front doors. I told them you'd be there until tonight's performance was over."
Bella's eyes widened. "Oh shit! I forgot that was tonight. I gotta get ready." She jumped up from the couch and slid across floor with her socks before hurrying up the stairs. When she pushed into her room to gather her things, she nearly missed the lined piece of paper sticking out from underneath her pillow when she tossed her stuffed hawk back onto her bed.
Clarice walked into the large conference room with her personal watch dog agent behind her. After the incident the night before and Delia's insistence that Dr. Lecter was involved, the big boys called her in for a meeting, wanting to discuss the events with her. Most likely, she'd be asked about the escaped doctor with the men either assessing her answers or pretending to so they could ogle her.
She'd decided on a pantsuit with one of the silk blouses Hannibal had sent her over the years. Just looking at it would raise questions as to how she got it, but asking them directly would also be rude considering she wasn't here to talk about her wardrobe choices. The meeting was called with vague reference as to what it was about, but Clarice didn't need to speculate once she was escorted in to see the head honchos with Delia on the other side of the large table. Part of her wondered how powerful and satisfied she would feel if she walked in with Hannibal's hand in hers, claiming him as hers for the rest of her companions to see.
She imagined shocked faces, stunned and injured egos. Many of the agents she worked with had a pool going on if she was sleeping with Hannibal Lecter, but they make jokes of it. None of them took it seriously. To see her emerge as the lioness instead of the lamb they needed to guide, the looks on their faces would be priceless.
The thought was pushed aside though when the agent on her heels pulled out a chair for her to sit in, which she did gracefully. She leaned back and crossed a leg over the other. If they wanted her to be the scared victim of a blood-smearing crime, they would be very disappointed.
"Agent Starling," the director began. He was most likely here for appearances and would probably guide the meeting for the sake of his ego. "I understand that you have had an eventful night, so I will try to keep this as painless as possible-"
"Where is Dr. Hannibal Lecter?" It was Delia's voice that cut through the director's. The embarrassment showed on everyone else, their cheeks and ears tinging a shade of red. The director gritted his teeth and bore a hole into the table with his eyes, biting his tongue to keep from lashing out.
Clarice kept her smirk to herself, not wanting to look like a smug idiot who wouldn't give up a piece of information. "Your guess is as good as mine." She turned her attention back to the director. "As for last night, I woke up to a loud bang, grabbed my gun, and discovered it was my front door. Both locks were busted, and blood was dripping down from the written message, 'she's next.' I had Bella call a 9-1-1 operator as I secured the house-"
Delia insistance interrupted Clarice this time. "A few of your neighbors said they have noticed an older man coming by your house now for a little over a week."
"Once I secured the house and realized what was on the door, I told Bella to get the FBI involved and waited with her for agents to arrive." Clarice ignored Delia's statement. Yes, Hannibal had come by the house during the day, even through the front door, but answering her questions would only encourage her to continue.
"Do you think that the Beer Can Killer could be Dr. Hannibal Lecter?" The director asked. Obviously, his annoyance with Delia was wearing to fury, because he cast a lethal glance her way out of the corner of his eye.
Clarice shook her head once. "No, I do not. I have voiced this to an agent on the case as well. I studied Dr. Lecter for years, and this is not something he would do. He attacks those who annoy him or hinder his abilities. The Beer Can Killer appears to be targeting women that look similar to my daughter and I. If Dr. Lecter had a problem with me, he would not butcher nine innocent women to send me a message. Although he's a wanted serial killer himself, he doesn't shy away from his victims. He'll mess with them, but he wouldn't do this. If you don't believe me for those reasons, Dr. Lecter eats his victims. None of the nine victims in this case have had organs missing. None of their body parts were missing. Mutilated, yes, but none were taken."
"Is there anyone you or your daughter have a problem with, Agent Starling?" The director continued.
Clarice took a deep breath, letting it be the only noise in the room for a brief second. "My daughter and I have been harassed over the years by Mr. Krendler and his son, but I don't think they could be behind this."
The director frowned. "Why's that? Paul Krendler does still, misguidedly, believe that you are the reason behind Dr. Lecter's attack on him."
Clarice nodded. "I'm aware of that. My daughter goes by Bella though her name is Bellona. Mr. Krendler can hardly remember Bella, let alone her given name. Other than official reports and papers, I'm not sure whether or not his son knows my daughter's name is Bellona, or that there is a Roman Goddess by the same name. That was the poster taped to the door as well, Goddess Bellona."
"That would be something that Dr. Lecter would know about though." Delia stated, glancing between Clarice and the director.
He looked at Clarice expectantly. Only then did she reply. "Yes, he would most likely know of the Roman Goddess Bellona, but I haven't seen him in eighteen years. For all I know, he doesn't even know I have a daughter. I think we've all learned that Dr. Lecter tries to make some sort of contact while he's here in America. I haven't received any type of message from him since I last saw him."
Delia spoke over everyone else again, but her question caused every eye to snap to her. "Is Dr. Lecter the father of your daughter, Agent Starling?"
The room was silent, and Clarice felt the eyes turn back to her. The flush was back to everyone's cheeks, and the director was too speechless to call out Delia on the question from left field. She knew this moment would come some day, but she never expected the words to fall from her best friend's lips.
"I don't think you'll be satisfied unless I say 'yes.'" Clarice started, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you think happened that night? Do you really think that I sat with Dr. Lecter and feasted on Paul Krendler's brains? Do you think him locking my hair in the fridge was some type of sick foreplay? What about my phone call to police about my location, or when I searched along the shore for the injured doctor? Knowing me the way you do, do you think I would even want to have sex with Paul Krendler babbling in the next room?" She shrugged her shoulders. "If you believe that all that happened, then, yes, Hannibal Lecter would be the father to my child. But, none of that happened. He locked my hair inside the fridge door, so he could escape." She stood from the table, the agent in charge of watching her quickly finding his bearings to follow.
Straightening out her blazer jacket, she looked back at Delia. "But to make you happy and maybe get you off my back about this whole Hannibal Lecter business, yes. Dr. Lecter is her father. It seems you won't believe anything else."
The director stood then, clearing his throat. "Thank you, Agent Starling. I apologize for Agent Mapp's behavior. I will let you get back to your work. We will catch this guy one way or another. Before he can get to you or your daughter."
"Thank you." Clarice nodded once before shaking his hand.
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