The severe lines of her business suit made her look more government then
she wanted to, but she wasn't going to worry about it.. Alice had set up
the meeting and said something about how the individual in question needed
to talk to a professional, placing less then subtle emphasis on the word,
in her usual way. Dee brushed a stray wisp of hair out of her eyes and
walked up to the door and knocked. In the back of her mind, Dee restrained
the urge to mutter some of the vulgarities that came to mind as her hair
blew into her eyes for the fourth time in the past ten minutes. She glanced
at her watch and knocked again, ignoring the looks that she got from some
of the neighbors.
The curtains opened slightly and a frail, waif of a Hispanic woman looked at her through them. The glinting light off of her sleek sunglasses reflected the white door and the dark window. Slowly, the woman opened the door. "Mrs. Rodriguez?" Dee said, fishing a business card out of her pocket, "I'm Deidre Cullain. Your co-worker told me that you're interested in discussing a few legal matters with me." Mrs. Rodriguez's dark eyes looked down at the card as her husband called from the depths of the house, asking who was at the door. Dee saw the slight flinch of fear and restrained the scowl. "Just tell him your discussing life insurance," she said in a low voice, placing a push of magic behind it to encourage the startled woman to make the statement with confidence.
As though by clockwork, the smaller woman made the statement and Dee offered to take her out for coffee. As the two women walked to the car, a hulking beast of a man stormed to the door. He shouted something and Dee again restrained the urge to swear. She opened the door to the battered Ford and nearly pushed the other woman in. "Get in and stay down," Dee said as her stomach wrenched with the icy cold feeling of the Sight hitting her. She could almost hear the rifle being loaded and as she slammed the door behind the terrified woman, Mr. Rodriguez came to the door with a dirty looking rifle and began to aim.
Dee jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door. Failing to resist the urge to swear loudly as the crack of a gunshot immediately preceeded her back window shattering. She turned the key and threw the car into gear, wincing a little as a few gear ground and then slammed her foot on the accelerator. As the car sped away from the shouting and gunfire, a few of the local heavies came out with their own firepower. As they roared away from the ensuing chaos, Deidre picked up her cell phone and punched a number. "911 dispatch," the voice on the other end of the line said in a bored tone.
"Get some one to the intersection of York and Homewood," Deidre said in precice, clipped tones, "There's an altercation. They'd better hurry." She hung up and looked over at the woman beside her, who was shaking and clearly frightened. "My dear, if he really wants," Deidre said in a dry tone, "He can come have a chat with me before he'll be adding to your collection of bruises." Deidre pulled into the drive way infront of the shelter. "You know, I'd love to help you," she said, looking over at the woman who started talking in a very excited tone after her comment about the gun weilding husband, "But you lost me at el bastardo." She ducked an exaggerated had gesture and pulled into her parking space with a sigh.
'Alice is going to owe me one, again,' Deidre thought as the two women got out of the car and walked into the shelter. "Mari, you'd better help Mrs. Rodrigues. It wasn't explained to me that when she was angry that she spoke Spanish exclusively." As the other woman walked over and the two started talking in rapid fire Spanish, Deidre massaged between her eyebrows, reminded why she hated that class in college and passed it by her teeth. She couldn't understand more then one word when people started talking faster then "See Spot run" at a very slow speed.
The curtains opened slightly and a frail, waif of a Hispanic woman looked at her through them. The glinting light off of her sleek sunglasses reflected the white door and the dark window. Slowly, the woman opened the door. "Mrs. Rodriguez?" Dee said, fishing a business card out of her pocket, "I'm Deidre Cullain. Your co-worker told me that you're interested in discussing a few legal matters with me." Mrs. Rodriguez's dark eyes looked down at the card as her husband called from the depths of the house, asking who was at the door. Dee saw the slight flinch of fear and restrained the scowl. "Just tell him your discussing life insurance," she said in a low voice, placing a push of magic behind it to encourage the startled woman to make the statement with confidence.
As though by clockwork, the smaller woman made the statement and Dee offered to take her out for coffee. As the two women walked to the car, a hulking beast of a man stormed to the door. He shouted something and Dee again restrained the urge to swear. She opened the door to the battered Ford and nearly pushed the other woman in. "Get in and stay down," Dee said as her stomach wrenched with the icy cold feeling of the Sight hitting her. She could almost hear the rifle being loaded and as she slammed the door behind the terrified woman, Mr. Rodriguez came to the door with a dirty looking rifle and began to aim.
Dee jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door. Failing to resist the urge to swear loudly as the crack of a gunshot immediately preceeded her back window shattering. She turned the key and threw the car into gear, wincing a little as a few gear ground and then slammed her foot on the accelerator. As the car sped away from the shouting and gunfire, a few of the local heavies came out with their own firepower. As they roared away from the ensuing chaos, Deidre picked up her cell phone and punched a number. "911 dispatch," the voice on the other end of the line said in a bored tone.
"Get some one to the intersection of York and Homewood," Deidre said in precice, clipped tones, "There's an altercation. They'd better hurry." She hung up and looked over at the woman beside her, who was shaking and clearly frightened. "My dear, if he really wants," Deidre said in a dry tone, "He can come have a chat with me before he'll be adding to your collection of bruises." Deidre pulled into the drive way infront of the shelter. "You know, I'd love to help you," she said, looking over at the woman who started talking in a very excited tone after her comment about the gun weilding husband, "But you lost me at el bastardo." She ducked an exaggerated had gesture and pulled into her parking space with a sigh.
'Alice is going to owe me one, again,' Deidre thought as the two women got out of the car and walked into the shelter. "Mari, you'd better help Mrs. Rodrigues. It wasn't explained to me that when she was angry that she spoke Spanish exclusively." As the other woman walked over and the two started talking in rapid fire Spanish, Deidre massaged between her eyebrows, reminded why she hated that class in college and passed it by her teeth. She couldn't understand more then one word when people started talking faster then "See Spot run" at a very slow speed.