Frannie's Lament
by Tanya Reed
Thanks Britduck for the review.
Disclaimer: Due South belongs to someone other than me.
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The woman known as Renata Mancini hurried through the puzzling network of hallways and lavish rooms. Her mind was whirling and her palms were sweaty. Had he known? Could Mario see her reaction when she looked upon the faces of his guests? If he had, how had he interpreted it? All she knew was that her life depended on the answers.
She was confused. Very confused. For the first time, she started to have doubts about what she had done. Not knowing what else to do, she set out in search of the one person who might be able to help her with her fears. Ironically, Renata was so deep in her thoughts that she almost missed the person she was seeking as the other woman hurried by.
Looking up, she just caught a flurry of dark hair and glasses as her friend rushed past.
"Angelique," she squeaked.
The slim French woman turned and raised an eyebrow. Renata noticed that she looked as neat and businesslike as usual, and had somehow managed to accentuate her best features without making it obvious she was trying to do so. Mario liked pretty women.
"Can I see you a minute?"
Angelique's eyes narrowed and she studied Renata. After thinking for what seemed like far too long, she gave a sharp nod. The Italian didn't know why Angelique had hesitated. The two of them were together enough that their talking would not seem suspicious.
"Certainly. I was just going for a walk in the east garden. Would you care to join me?"
"I'd like that. I've been inside all day."
The two of them hurried to a side door and then out into the sunshine. They were silent as they moved away from the house, but Renata could see the curiosity in Angelique's eyes.
When they were what Angelique considered far enough away from the house, she hissed, "What is it?"
"We have a problem."
"I guessed that much, Renata," she stressed the given name.
"A couple of old friends showed up."
"Old friends?"
"A blond guy, a bald guy, and a Canadian."
Angelique's reaction to this news was startling. Her calm, collected air dropped away as her already pale skin turned the color of paper. Delicate hands began to tremble and dark eyes widened in shock. She looked thoroughly shaken, and Renata had to stop herself from reaching out to steady her. She would not be thanked for that.
"Here?" She choked out. "They're here?"
Renata nodded. "And they saw me. They hid their surprise and so did I, but Mario might have seen something."
It only took a moment for color to come back to Angelique's face. Her voice was sharp as she swore, "Damn him. I'm on another continent and he's still screwing me up."
She brought up a hand to stroke her forehead, stoicism once more coming to her features. Renata could almost see the wheels starting to turn inside her head, and seeing Angelique's no-nonsense reasoning come into effect had an amazing impact on Renata's fear.
"Well, we're definitely going to have to deal with them now. They're all too nosy for their own good. Fraser, especially, cannot leave a mystery alone."
The French woman then began to pace, her strides short and clipped, as if that would help her think.
"I'm more worried about Ray," Renata answered, surprised at how calm she herself sounded. "He's going to have questions and he won't leave it alone til he gets answers."
"Yes," Angelique stopped and nodded. "Vecchio was always stubborn and pigheaded."
"You don't have to tell me. What a mess!"
Her companion bit her lip thoughtfully before suggesting, "Maybe we should try to get a message out. We have to keep them safe."
Fear shot through Renata once more as she realized that she and Angelique weren't the only ones in danger. They had been living on a knife's edge and, if this were the thing to cut them, the men could suffer too.
"Do you think Mario would kill them?"
"If he knew? In a heartbeat."
"You're right." The Italian let out a whispered prayer, then demanded, "So, how? Harvey?"
Angelique nodded. "We'll have to. He's the only one of us allowed to come and go as he pleases. How do you feel about going riding this afternoon, Miss Mancini?"
"I hate horses," she growled, "But I'll be there." Then, after a pause, "Ray is going to kill me, you know."
With a sardonic smile, Angelique placed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed supportively, answering, "You forget, my dear, you're already dead."
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They had done well, Ben noted as the three of them gathered in a room that was less extravagant but more comfortable than the one of the night before. They had managed to stay for two hours at Mr. William's house without betraying their thoughts, and then they had gone back to Mr. Lawrence's and quietly packed their things. They had remained mostly silent, conscious of every word that did pass between them.
As soon as they entered Ben's room at the bed and breakfast, the spell was broken.
"It was her!" Kowalski exploded before the door was even completely closed.
"I don't believe it," Vecchio stormed at the same time.
"Then you both agree that the person we saw was Francesca?"
The Ray's each ran a hand over their respective heads in an identical gesture. Green and blue eyes turned on the Mountie, the emotion in their depths unreadable.
"What is she doing here, Benny? She's supposed to be dead."
Kowalski started to pace, and Fraser ran a thumb over his eyebrow. He thought a minute before replying, "I don't know."
"And she's in trouble. You both saw that, didn't you?"
"We've got to get her out of there!" was Kowalski's answer.
"I don't think we should do that, Ray."
"Huh?" He stopped pacing and stared at Fraser.
"Think about it. If we go in without knowing all the pertinant facts, we could be putting Francesca in even more danger."
"You're talking about the five p's again, aren't you, buddy?"
"Five peas?" Vecchio was incredulous. "What do peas have to do with anything?"
Kowalski looked at Vecchio and ticked the words off on his left hand. "Proper. Preparation. Prevents. Poor. Performance."
Ben was slightly astonished that Ray had remembered the lesson he taught him so long ago. "That's right, Ray."
"Meaning," Vecchio translated, "If we know what's going on first, we won't screw up."
"Exactly."
"Well, how do we do that?"
Kowalski started pacing again. After a moment, he announced, "Williams did say he wanted to see us again."
"Yes, he did!" Vecchio's green eyes began to glow. "And I think tomorrow we should call and make an appointment."
Ben thought that was a very fine idea.
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"Where is that woman?" Angelique Marceau, also known as Meg Thatcher, heard Mario's voice booming from his office. Around outsiders, and Frannie most of the time, he presented himself as a friendly older man with an appetite for brandy and young women. Most of this was an act, however, and his employees knew another side of him--one they didn't want to anger.
She picked up her steps, knowing he'd probably not get physical with her, but not willing to risk it.
"She's never around when I need her, Thomas!"
As he said this, she rushed through the door, trying to make it look as if she hadn't rushed.
"Were you looking for me, sir?"
"Angelique, where the hell have you been?" His words were snapped at her like a physical blow.
Meg forced her face into a placating expression. "I went riding. You told me not to bother you this afternoon."
"That was this afternoon. It's six o'clock!"
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Well, you should be." The glare from his eyes could have frozen blood. "Please leave us alone, Thomas."
The butler bowed sedately, his hard black eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts. Meg forced herself to meekness, getting back into the character that had fled while she was riding.
As the door closed, William's voice lowered. "I need you, you know. You are an important part of my establishment."
"Yes, sir."
He looked at her a moment, then his voice warmed. "Now that's enough chastisement. We have work to do."
Reluctantly, Meg moved forward, pasting a smile on her face. "What did you need me for?"
"We need to work on the Baker deal." Then his eyes, which had changed expression once again, strolled over her body. "And I needed to see your pretty face."
Meg suppressed her shudder and went to the filing cabinet. Taking out 'B', she returned and perched on the edge of Mario's desk. Carefully, so that she wasn't being obvious, she made sure her skirt slipped up to a just barely decent position. Her boss's eyes ran over her flesh like a caress, but she pretended not to notice.
"So, what is the problem?" she asked.
"He's trying to cheat me, Ang. We have to go over the numbers and see if they match up."
"And if they don't?" she asked breathlessly. Fascination with violence was supposed to be part of her character.
Mario's smile was more suited to a reptile than a man. "Then we deal with him."
"Can I watch?"
"If you're a good girl." Then he frowned. "And you're not late."
Meg ducked her head in false repentance.
"Now open the folder."
"Yes, sir."
They had been adding up numbers for only a few minutes when the phone rang. Mario let out a heavy sigh, and Meg winced.
"Excuse me, dear."
The tone of his voice made the color drain out of Meg's face, and she could feel her fingers instinctively tighten on her pencil. For interupting them, someone was going to die.
"Willams...What do you want, Peter? I'm bus...What? Are you sure?...Stay right there."
Mario calmly replaced the receiver. "Something's come up, Angelique. We'll have to finish this later."
"More important than money?" she tried to say lightly through a throat that was threatening to close.
"Unfortunately, yes. Please mark our place. I'll try to be back in an hour or two."
Meg hopped off of the desk with a nod, already following his request. Without looking back, Mario got up and took something from his upper left hand drawer. After secreting it in the waistline of his pants, he slipped silently into the corridor.
Watching him go, the hair stood up on Meg's neck. Something had just happened, and whatever it was, it was all bad.
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Surprise! It's not really a death fic after all. ;)