Betrayal, Loss and Love
BritDuck21
She sat huddled in the corner of her office, the tears had stopped but she couldn't seem to force herself to move from her position on the floor. She knew she should; it wouldn't reflect very well on her if one of her subordinates were to find her here like this, but her muscles were refusing to obey her muddled mind.
The scene kept replaying in her head, over and over, taunting her, reminding her of her weakness. How would anyone ever respect her again?
It had started off like any other day. Lieutenant Welsh had called from the Chicago PD, asking if she would mind putting in an appearance down at the station to show a united front for a visiting Canadian expert that they needed for a case. No name, no details, all she had to do was show up and be diplomatic. No problem.
Only there was a problem, there was a big problem.
She had walked into the station, dressed in her normal business attire. There had been no sign of Fraser or the annoying detective he hung around with, so she had made her way towards Welsh's office. Nothing out of the ordinary, no inkling of what was to come.
She had entered the office, briefly noticing that Vecchio stood by the Lieutenant's desk, but there was still no sign of Fraser. That was something at least. After giving the Detective a nod of acknowledgement, she turned her attention to Welsh.
"Inspector Thatcher." Welsh stood up, offering her his hand. She'd taken it, giving the lieutenant a pleasant smile.
"Leftenant."
"I'd like you to meet Lauren Baxter, she's visiting from…"
Meg didn't hear any of the rest of the sentence. She half-turned to face the visitor, and froze.
Oh – God – oh – God – oh – God.
Meg felt the colour drain from her face as her eyes met those of the woman across from her, who was currently giving her a look of such utter hatred that Meg found she was intensely grateful that looks could not kill.
Welsh faltered slightly, realising that his introductions were not necessary. "Ah, ladies. I take it you two know each other, then."
"You could say that," replied Baxter coolly, throwing Meg another dirty look. "Though it is probably more accurate to say that we have a mutual acquaintance, wouldn't you agree Margaret?"
Meg didn't say anything. What could she say to that?
The other woman was slightly older than she, and had long blonde hair that was currently twisted up in a French knot. There was no denying the beauty in her traditional Aryan looks and slim body. She had a kind of feminine chic that Meg knew she would never in her lifetime be able to achieve.
Ignoring the looks that she was receiving from both Baxter and Vecchio, Meg tried to concentrate on the reason she was there in the first place.
"So Leftenant, what do you need from the Consulate?"
Welsh looked at the woman who stood in front of him. Her eyes betrayed nothing about her current mindset. There was no hint of the emotions or shock that had appeared in them when she had first caught sight of their visitor. Now, they were shuttered, cool and efficient pools of darkness. Welsh wondered how she managed to do that, or whether it was just some weird Canadian thing.
"Ah well Inspector, you see Miss Baxter…"
"Mrs," came the sharp interruption from the other side of the desk. "And don't you forget it," said Baxter, casting another disgusted look at Meg.
"Um, yes, I'm terribly sorry. Mrs Baxter," he continued, emphasising the correct title, "is here to lend her expertise on a shipment of stolen art that we believe is coming in tonight. Apparently some of the pieces are of significant value to the Toronto Art Museum and Mrs Baxter believes she will be able to identify which are the real artefacts as opposed to forgeries."
Meg nodded. "So you would like me to act as liaison between our two countries to decide which pieces belong where?"
"That would be a great help," said Welsh. "We don't want another big mask fiasco now do we?"
Meg smiled politely, though the smile never reached her eyes. "Of course not."
"You know, Fraser was right about those masks," interrupted Vecchio, giving them a look that dared them to disagree with him.
"I'm sure he was, Detective, but for now can we stay focused on the current case," said Welsh, casting a warning look at the other man.
"Uh, yes, sir."
"Good, good. Now, if you could fill us in on the details of the shipment, that would be most helpful."
"Ah, of course, sir," Vecchio nodded, turning to face the other occupants of the room. "Well, the shipment's due in at 10 pm tonight. We believe the buyer is going to be there to meet it, so we are hoping to be able to grab him as well as the thieves. We have a person on the inside who managed to get us details of some of the pieces in the shipment, which we traced back to Toronto, hence the reason we called the museum. Anyway, once we have made the bust and seized all the evidence, we should be able to determine whether the pieces are forgeries or not, and if they are, we need to find out where the originals are being kept."
Baxter nodded. "When will I be able to see the collection?"
"Tomorrow most likely," replied Vecchio. "After we've made the bust and done the paperwork. You should be able to see the stuff then."
"All right."
"Inspector, if you could deal with the results. Anything that technically belongs to Canada will need to be processed for removal back there. I'm not sure of the Canadian way of doing that, so it would be a great help if you could handle all that side of it."
"Of course, Leftenant," she agreed.
"Ok, well I guess that is all that is needed for today. Mrs Baxter, do you have a hotel sorted for the night? I'm sure that something can be arranged for you if necessary."
"No, that's quite all right Leftenant, I have a room booked."
"Ah well, in that case, can I get one of our officers to give you a lift there? It would be our pleasure."
"Thank you, Leftenant, that is most gracious of you."
Offering his hand to their guest, Welsh ordered Vecchio to sort out the transportation. A few moments after the detective had left the office, Meg made her excuses and promptly followed him out, glad to be away from there.