"Megan!" Larry called out happily as the agent appeared in the door of Charlie's classroom. "Visiting again so soon?"
"Hi, Larry." She smiled and cast a quick look in Charlie's direction. "Business again, I'm afraid."
Larry's smile faltered for a second. "Private matters this time as well?"
Megan blushed a deep red and nodded. "I'm sorry, Larry."
"If I didn't know you two better..." he trailed off, trying to keep his tone as light as possible.
"Larry," Charlie cut in. "I promise you this is related to a case – a very important case. You have to trust me."
Larry waved his hand dismissively. "Of course I trust you, Charles. I was allowing my shallower side to rear its ugly head." He offered an rueful smile to Megan. "My apologies. Perhaps once this is over I could take you out for dinner? My attempt to make up for my behavior."
"You have nothing to make up for, but I'd still love dinner." She winked. "I have your number and I'll call you the second we're through."
His face lit up with delight. "Alright then. I shall leave you to your case." He left the room, shutting the door behind him. No sooner had the door closed than Charlie was practically lunging across his desk, his outstretched hands grasping at the files in her arms. She allowed him to grab them and watched as he quickly retrieved the letters from inside the file folder. "Charlie, some of those are a bit intense."
He waved her off and began reading. The first one was simple enough: 'Ready to die, Agent Eppes? Grim Reaper.' The second was a bit longer: 'Saw you last night. You jumped quite a bit when that car went screeching down the street. That driver barely missed you. I wonder if he had really good reflexes, or if maybe he did exactly what he was trying to do? Grim Reaper.'
"What?" Charlie demanded. "Is he serious – he actually tried to run Don down?"
"There was an incident with a car when we were in the field. It wasn't really that close, but then we got the letter. Could be whoever is making the threats saw the incident and decided to use it in his favor."
"Is there a report on the car in the file?"
"It really wasn't that close to hitting Don, so we didn't worry about any kind of official report. I did insert a list of notes I made, including color, make, and model. I didn't catch the plate number." She paused for a moment. "Wait a second, Charlie - why do you say 'he'? Couldn't it have been a 'she'?"
"Huh?" Charlie looked up. "Oh, right, yeah." He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the tension he felt building. Of course it could be a woman - he couldn't believe he had just made an assumption of that magnitude. It spoke volumes as to how important this case was to him, to be so easily distracted. He tried to clear the emotion from his mind, but it quickly returned as he read the next threat: 'Have you started checking over your shoulder? The time is near. I'm going to enjoy watching you die... slow and painful, bit by bit. How loud do you think you can scream? I bet I can make it louder. Grim Reaper.'He felt his stomach churn and he fought the urge to panic. I have to be detached, he reminded himself. He set the first three letters down and studied the fourth and final one: 'Okay, Donny-boy, I'm growing tired of this game. It's time for you to die and you'll be feeling my wrath very soon. Go ahead and say your good-byes to that annoying brother and father of yours. Count your blessings that I don't want a pound of their flesh, too. Grim Reaper.'
Charlie dropped the letter onto his desk top and covered his face with his hands. No wonder Don was so insistent that I not get involved. He took a few deep breaths and regained his composure before facing Megan. "This is all of them?" She nodded. "Do you still have the original envelopes?"
"They're in the file, too." She reached out and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
"He's my brother," Charlie's voice cracked as he spoke. "I have to help him." He slowly opened the folder and pulled out the evidence bag that contained the envelopes. "I should be able to use the postmarks to help narrow down a location. Was there anything significant about the envelopes or the papers themselves?"
"No. The forensics report is in there, too, if you want to look it over."
"The evidence and crime scene report from Don's apartment?"
"It's in there, also. I got everything you told me to, Charlie." She glanced at her watch and frowned. "I have to go – I have a meeting with Don in an hour. Keep me updated Charlie, but be discreet about it."
"I will." Megan turned to leave, but Charlie quickly stopped her. "Megan! Thank you for doing this. I don't know if you really understand how important this is or how much your help means to me."
She smiled and chuckled. "I know. But remember how important it is to me, too – I don't want to wind up working in the Anchorage office."
"You won't. I promise."
--
"You're late," Don snapped.
"Sorry," Megan whispered as she slid into a chair. She pointedly ignored the questioning looks coming from David and Colby. I don't know if I can keep this up, Charlie.
Don took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, I am. I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just so frustrating to be stuck in the office." He smiled apologetically. "It had to be something important for you to be late. I know that."
Megan swallowed nervously. Important? Yeah, I thought it was. Don handed her a report on their latest case as he moved to the screen at the front of the room. Colby tapped her elbow and tilted his head. "Not now," she mouthed at him. He shrugged and turned his attention to Don.
--
Charlie angrily snapped the piece of chalk in his hand. He couldn't believe what the numbers on the board were telling him – not one of the hundreds of cases that Megan had brought him made it through his filter with more than a sixty-eight point seven percent chance of being the Grim Reaper. Had he been too aggressive in setting the parameters? Maybe he should relax them and try the calculations again. Of course he'd already done that twice to get these results. Was he overlooking something again? He ran his fingers through his unruly locks. "Dammit genius, think!"
"Charles?" He turned and saw Larry standing in the doorway, a look of concern on his face. "May I be of any assistance?"
"No, Larry," Charlie quickly answered as he slid another blackboard down to cover his work. He had promised to keep his involvement a secret, and knew that meant from Larry, too. "I'm just not on my A game today."
"I'm not surprised."
Charlie whirled around to face his mentor. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's five-fifteen," he replied as he cautiously entered the office. "I haven't seen you leave your office at all today. Did you even stop working long enough to eat?" Charlie's embarrassed look was all the answer he needed. "You need to take a break – step back and get a fresh perspective on..." Larry gestured at the hidden board, "...Whatever problem has you so flummoxed."
He studied the surface of his desk, cluttered with folders of evidence and files on people who probably hated his brother. He wanted to keep pushing himself to single out the guilty party, but he knew Larry was right – he needed to step back, take a break, and re-evaluate his thought processes. "Alright," he agreed reluctantly. "A quick bite of dinner probably would help." He noticed Larry subtly maneuvering closer to his desk top and the open files. He flipped them closed. "Sorry. I can't let you in on this one."
Larry waved his hands in innocence. "Alright, I know when to admit defeat. Whatever you and Megan are working on is private." He winced at the bitter emphasis he placed on the last word, and sought to ease the hurt that appeared on his friend's face. "I really do understand, but I want you to know that my offer of help stands, if and when you want it."
"I know, Larry. Thanks." Charlie locked the files and evidence in his desk and followed Larry from the room. He made sure to lock his office door, ignoring the look Larry gave him as he glanced at his watch. "Thirty minutes. That's all I can spare." He paused as Larry started to lead the way to the cafeteria. "And no white food, either!"
