So sorry for the lack of update. Anyway, here's chapter 2!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dr. Rosin, Rachel, nor Officer Marty.
Chapter 2
The door clicked open.
"…Mr. Cozar?" The lanky man stood from his post.
"Ah. Miss Stone, I presume?" Mark Cozar reached out a hand and proceeded to shake the distraught girl's trembling hand.
She swallowed the invisible lump that arose in her throat and lamely nodded.
"Please, take a seat," he motioned to the blue chair facing forward before sitting down himself. Daphne went to reach inside her bag to retrieve her "interview notebook". She knew never took notes over anything, but it would look odd if she was to demonstrate her exceptional memory for a college paper. "Now what college assignment was this for again? I'm very interested."
Daphne paused, unsure of how to answer. Would she stick to her previous answer (which he would not recognize and look up later), or perhaps tell him where she actually received her schooling and hope he didn't look her name up? No, neither of those were very good solutions. Why couldn't she remember her cover information that she had spent a half an hour making up when she really needed it?
In the end, she decided to tell him that she was writing a journalism paper on the killings because she needed a topic and she was in town. But this was never heard because someone conveniently came knocking on the door.
"Mr. Cozar, another student has been admitted to the clinic."
"Jan—"
"It's Patricia Thompson...She's showing the symptoms..."
Symptoms? This sparked Daphne's attention.
Cozar sighed and rubbed the skin between his eyes. "Well, get her to the hospital with as little public audience as possible..." Jan nodded and shut the door back. "I'm sorry—"
"Patricia Thompson?" she interrupted, almost excited.
"Er, she's in the lead for this year's valedictorian..."
Daphne had to keep reminded herself that normal people don't have eidetic memories. She looked down at her paper's general direction and scribbled a few lines of jibberish to keep up her character.
Cozar saw this and leaned forward on his desk.
"I'm sorry, but what exactly are you here for? Why are you writing that down?"
Gulp. "I'm a journalism student looking for something to write about as a final. I was told to look up murders and write about them. Of course, it won't be published, this is just something for my teacher to look at to determine if I've mastered all of the required writing techniques..."
He contemplated this for a moment before shifting in his seat.
"You've got ten minutes."
Daphne almost beamed, but distracted herself from the feeling by awkwardly crossing her legs and pushing up her drifting glasses. She fumbled with her pen before starting.
"Just to, um, clarify, how many victims are there?"
"From the school? Two."
Daphne swallowed and chewed the inside of her cheek. "From the school? There's...others outside of the school?"
Cozar put on an objective face. "Three, to be exact—" Daphne was about to respond but Cozar anticipated this. "—that is not information that is mine to disclose..."
Daphne bit her lip and scribbled a bit more. Cozar tried to peak over the top of her notebook but he noticed her eyes glance at him suspiciously and settled back into his seat.
"Has it ever occurred to you that this epidemic may be serious—"
"Now, I assure you, Miss Stone. Whatever the problem is, we are doing our best to figure it out in order to—"
"But these people need attention..."
"I am aware of that, mind you, I am a principal of a high school. My duties rise higher and higher with each passing day without these murders scaring my students."
"Uh, I understand that, but people have a right to be afraid, to feel vulnerable. From what I've heard around town, there could be a sickness or poison of some-sort playing into all of this. So, of course fear is running through your school. We're battling an invisible enemy..."
Cozar began to stand from his seat but paused.
Knock, knock.
"Sir, the police department's here to take your statements..."
"Of course, Patricia. If you would excuse me, Miss Stone," he began to usher her out, still in a shaken fury, "there is business I must attend to...Patricia, be sure to show our guest out..."
Cozar straightened his tie and went back into his office in an unexpected rage that shook Daphne's bones. She nodded to the woman at the desk—without looking at her—and exited the office. Cozar's odd change in behavior was unsettling to Daphne, and she was confused. All she was doing was clarifying the problem at hand and he looked just about ready to slap her!
She walked through the silent hallway and was pleased to find it bare of any lurking students. Once making it to the front entrance, she could spot the patiently awaiting red 2009 Ford Focus on the curb and quickly made her way to the passenger door, avoiding eye contact with the police officer that passed her.
Rachel and Dr. Rosin walk in on the high school's football coach yelling at a police officer.
"Look, three people are dead. We need answers. How is my team supposed to focus when all they can think about is who's gonna drop next?"
"You've gotta calm down, I've told you everything I know."
"You haven't told me a damn thing. Look, I swear Marty, if you're holding out on me—"
The policeman glared. "Do not threaten me."
The coach scoffed before angrily pacing out the door. Rachel readjusts her purse and looks at Dr. Rosin.
"That was a lot of testosterone...," she mumbles.
Rosin walks up to desk. While shaking his hand, he introduces himself.
"Sheriff Handel. Hi, I'm Dr. Lee Rosin, um..."
Rachel intervenes with a smile. "Rachel Perzad."
The man of law enforcement replies, "Marty. Um, sorry about that, uh. Coach Silinski gets a little passionate about his football team."
"Passionate?" This was Rachel.
"I heard they were sending more people, so...uh, exactly who are you folks?"
Dr. Rosin holds up DCIS badge, upside down, and Marty attempts to read it. Rosin quickly realizes his mistake and fixes it. "Oh, sorry."
"DCIS, come on back..." Mary waves them behind the counter. "So, how'd this end up in defense apartment? We looking at terrorism?"
"No, I wouldn't jump to any conclusions just yet."
"Sheriff, I'm sorry," the synesthete questioned curiously. "Were there any links between the victims?"
"Ned Burton died first. He was David Burton's dad. Oh, David is a local football star. Ned was a realtor. Watts was our bank manager, uh James Howard, the guidance counselour for Fenton High...These bodies looked half melted inside, but there was no infection, nothing on tox screens...Tell me what I'm missing. I mean, four deaths in four weeks is way out of my league."
"Did you say four deaths? We were only informed about three..."
"Yeah, the fourth was unrelated. Just a freak accident."
Just a freak accident? This was interesting to Rosin. "Well, what kind of freak accident?"
"Car crash. Chris Eckart slammed into a telephone pole on his way home from school. It was a horrible tragedy..."
"Autopsy?"
"In a small town like this, when a kid hits a telephone pole, it's probably drugs or alcohol."
There you have it! The next chapter should have some OC-DCIS interaction. Review, please!
Also, for any questions, message me :D