Chapter Three (Confusion Runs Rampant…)
Reese let the question pass because the answer was too depressing for the girl to hear aloud, he imagined, especially after what had happened to her this night.
"I've read most of your books." He offered an off-handed remark , however, turning unto a quiet, tree-lined avenue on the upper side of Manhattan. Sometimes a white lie was a good thing.
Amanda swirled about in the seat, her hands tightening happily on the edges of her notebook. "You DID?" she asked breathlessly, now staring at the man in something akin to awe.
"You DID?" Finch asked, clearly appalled at the news, staring at the screen.. in something akin to awe.
Reese nodded minutely, ignoring the man completely. "I spent a lot of time in airports between flights." He told a partial truth. "Light reading..took my mind off..things."
" 'Light reading'." Ms. Fellows' mood sank a bit. "A polite way of saying, there is no 'Pulitzer' in your future, Ms. Collins." She cast the man an old-fashioned look, long since realizing her limitations, however.
"Cordelia Fellows." Finch corrected the misconception. "And no..I do not foresee such accolades in the up and coming years for our resident 'Romance Novelist', more's the pity."
Which didn't sound all that sincere to Reese's ears. "Cordelia?" he repeated, stifling a smirk.
'Cordelia's' mouth fell agape, a pink flush creeping into the high cheekbones. "Oh, God..really?" She hoped her senses were wrong in this instance. "You know my real name.." another thought struck her, one even more heinous in nature. "HE…knows?"
Before either man could reply, the girl's attitude altered visibly, her body stiffening. She straightened, arms folded stubbornly over her chest area.
"It was my grandmother's name!"
"It's a very nice name." Reese soothed some ruffled feathers, pulling the car into a space between two parked sedans, expertly measuring the distance.
"So is Adolf, but I wouldn't name my child that." Finch was positive.
"From a more genteel time." Reese thought about clicking the Blue Tooth off for a beat, but..he didn't. "When women were women." he nodded sagely.
'Cordelia' settled at the obvious attempt to set matters to rights. "..And men were very gallant, reliable and..responsible individuals."
"I have always thought those times produced a rather chauvinistic breed of males."
"Thanks, Finch..appreciate your point of view on the matter."
"You asked."
"No I didn't." Reese cut the engine, checking with his passenger who seemed oblivious to his conversation with Finch.
She sat, staring out the side window, having wiped the haze of 'fog' from the glass. Rain drops blurred the image of the street somewhat. "..It's a very nice house." She seemed surprised.
Reese noted the stately town house to which she referred, with it's well-maintained façade, black wrought iron fence and immaculately kept grounds. It was one of four on the entire block. Each more elaborately ostentatious than the next, in his humble opinion.
"Serial killing pays well." He opened the door, exiting the vehicle. In seconds he was around the car, opening her door, offering his hand for assistance.
"The guy on the other end of the Blue Tooth.." the woman ignored the outstretched hand, feeling rather foolish had she accepted it. She was perfectly capable of exiting a car by herself, after all. Although a part of her liked the old-fashioned etiquette displayed. "Is he your boss?"
"..You're very observant." Reese was not sure he liked the fact, following slowly as she made her way around puddles and wet pavement. He had dropped his hand aside.
"She IS a writer, Mr. Reese." Finch reminded. "..Of sorts."
"Play nice, Finch." The other man muttered lowly for Finch's ears alone.
"Did he say something derogatory about me?" Cordelia halted her brisk steps, twirling about, having traversed the four concrete steps leading up to the covered entrance of the house.
The door opened unceremoniously, halting the need for an answer. "..Detective Fusco." Reese liked the guy's timing. "May I introduce the very well-received novelist, Amanda Collins." He inclined his head almost regally. "Ms. Collins..one of New York's finest..Lionel Fusco, at your service."
"Yeah, yeah.." the burly man ushered them inside, his tone a little surly. "Nice to meet ya, get in already." He checked the streets with the trained eyes of an observer before closing the door on the outside world.
The foyer was somewhat cramped, housing only an elegant coat rack fashioned from cherry wood. One section dominated by a beautifully constructed stairwell which led upstairs, a small corridor opened into a spacious step-down living area.
Lionel Fusco was small of stature when one placed him beside John Reese but the ease with which the younger man conversed with his counterpart, his body language said..the detective was an invaluable asset to whatever 'business' Reese was involved in.
Although broader of build, Fusco appeared stout and capable, his manner saying, he was able to handle himself in difficult situations.
He often deferred to Reese in a variety of ways but their relationship seemed built on mutual respect to Cordelia Fellows' way of thinking. She was an avid student of human behavior, after all.
She scrutinized the two men closely while they exchanged information.
"Your buddy is inside, none too happy with the way of things, let me tell you." Fusco surprised the woman by speaking directly to her. "Next time?" he had returned to Reese. "YOU get the older dame."
"No more Raymond Chandler novels for you, Detective." Reese reminded Fusco with a 'look', that a 'lady' was present. "Besides, not sure you would be up to the little reception that greeted us, hey, Ms. Collins?"
"Fellows." Finch corrected effortlessly.
"..Which do you prefer?" Reese was curious. "Your pseudonym or.." he left it up in the air.
"Well, the 'older dame'," a new arrival on the scene took everyone's attention. " Affectionately refers to her as 'poopyhead' but she feels most comfortable with her real name, don't ya, honey."
Cordelia's face lit up, her mouth falling open. "DAVY!"
Reese had heard the other woman's approach, Fusco stilling his natural reaction to 'unexpected visitors' by a discrete shake of the detective's head alerting Reese that.. 'all was well on the Western Front'.
He examined the other woman meticulously, much as he was being examined, exchanging oblique glances with Fusco who smirked accordingly, aware of the effect Reese usually had on women, no matter their age.
Cordelia rushed down the two carpeted steps, happy to see one of her own kind, sqealing her delight.
"..I don't…hug." The older woman halted any such display with a frosty warning and hand held out before her. Even the word seemed distasteful to her. "As well you know, Cordelia Fellows."
The young woman pulled up short, stifling her youthful excitement, settling for an overly bright smile of welcome. "What are YOU doing here?"
"According to Kojak over there," Taylor Davidivitch hooked a thumb in Fusco's direction. "My life was in 'danger'.." she quoted with her fingers, rolling her eyes expressively. "From some unknown source. The only danger I've been in so far is from his coffee."
Cordelia turned troubled eyes to John Reese. "What?"
"You ladies can be of tremendous help if you would?" he indicated the huge leather sofa behind them, motioning with his hand. "If you could answer a few questions?"
A half hour later, after brief, nondescript explanations from Reese, Finch knew little more than he had in the beginning.
"This is getting us nowhere." The man arose from his computer chair, removing his tie, laying it carefully aside. "They don't have a clue and you can take that any way you please, Mr. Reese. Either they are lying to us or they truly are just rather stupid individuals."
"Why are you so grumpy today?" Reese pondered over the fact.
"I'm not grumpy, Sweetheart." Davidivitch halted her tirade concerning..well, just about everything under the sun, seeking out the questioner. "I'm just a New Yorker." She waved a dismissing hand to an amused John Reese. "You'll get used to me after a while." She sat on the arm of the chair he had chosen upon entry to the living room and the 'inquisition' had begun, as the older woman had christened it. "…Are you married?"
Reese's tongue flicked along the top edge of his lips, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"DAVY!" Cordelia chastised, embarassed for the other woman. "Behave! He doesn't know you well enough for that just yet."
Davidivitch eased closer to Reese. He kinda liked her perfume but he tried not to let on because..he was a professional.
"..What better way to get to..get acquainted." The woman smiled sweetly down at Reese. "Except the usual way, of course." She sighed contentedly.
"Davidivitch!" Cordelia blushed for her friend, her full lips tightening slightly. "He wasn't even speaking to you."
"Oh, no." Taylor tsked softly, stroking Reese's hair about his temples almost maternally. "Don't tell me you're one of the loonies." She didn't seem particularly upset by the fact, if so. "Well, no matter. We'll just strike it up to 'eccentricity' and let it go at that."
"He was speaking to his friend." Cordelia motioned to her own ear. "On his cell."
Taylor leaned ever so close, checking out the information provided, noting the blue tooth finally. She lingered overly long, to Fusco's way of thinking. "Had me scared there for a second, Angel. 'Kinky' I can do but..if it gets too weird, even I have my limits." Her gaze roamed Reese's body freely. "Oh, who am I kidding. I'm nuts for you and I don't care who knows it. Do your worse!" she teased. "I'm your's for the taking!"
"Who said anything about 'taking'." Fusco had his doubts. "Can we get back to the questions?"
From Reese's point of view, it felt good to have a slight reprieve from all the heavy shit going down in his life of late, so..he encouraged the woman with a slight smile, his eyes anything but censored.
"David!" Cordelia scolded fitfully. "Someone tried to snap my neck tonight. I think a little more serious tone is in order here, don't you?"
"You're serious enough for the both of us, Baby Cakes." Taylor straightened the front of Reese's shirt, admiring the dark fuzz of beginning chest hair peeking out of the 'V' neck, her fingers gently circling about the crisp curls. She lifted mesmerizing eyes. "Gray is definitely your color, Beloved."
Reese grinned retroactively, a little flattered by the blatant come-on, for the woman was not only beautiful, she was clearly a class act, dressed far more fashionably than anyone else in the room, which wasn't saying much, granted, but she would have even looked appropriately classy on Harold Finch's impeccably attired arm.
"Turn it off, Mr. Reese." Finch had freshened up, now in the midst of choosing yet another stylish tie, having had enough of the immature exchange. "Throw some cold water on your admirer and get some much needed answers from those two..ladies."
"You know that procedure never works, Finch." Reese lifted his tall frame from his chair, gently disengaging himself from the 'lady's' presence. "It is imperative we find out the reason someone wants you both dead." He tried less tact. "Can you..aid us in our quest?" He directed the inquiry to Taylor Davidivitch, sensing he would get action from that source.
"Oh, baby..I can 'aid' you in soooo many ways." She was game. "What do you mean..someone tried to snap your neck tonight?" Something had filtered through..finally, and the woman had turned to her friend, a little irritated for some reason.
"If it hadn't been for Mr. Reese.." Cordelia motioned jerkily, tears promised at the least bit of encouragement. "I would not be her.."
"What makes you think anyone wants ME dead?" Taylor ignored her friend's distress focusing on something more prevalent in her Universe. "Well, if you don't count most of my so called 'friends'." She uncrossed her shapely legs, arising from the arm of Reese's former seat. "..I was just about to take my evening 'soak'..in a tub that is more than built for 'two'.." she made mention to anyone who might be interested in such a tidbit of news. "When this little twerp crashes in my door, flashing his badge around, saying I had to come with him if I intended being around for the next 'soak'..so here I am, but I haven't seen 'hide nor hair' of any would-be varmits wantin to take my scalp, Cowboy, so..what gives with you two?"
She eyed Reese and Fusco suspiciously.
"Is that a 'New Yorker's' imitation of a 'Western' accent?" Fusco shook his head woefully. "Really?"
"Not to mention..she's mixing her metaphors." Finch stated. "Inform her, Mr. Reese..if she requires definitive 'proof'..Detective Fusco can simply return her to her 'soak.'"
"Is it your time of the month?" Reese was getting a little tiffed at Finch's mood tonight.
"No." Taylor answered conspiritously, stepping decidedly close, lowering her voice discretely for once. "..What did you have in mind?"
"Later." Reese whispered silkily, and..he really did like her perfume. "Neither of you can think of ANY reason why someone would want you out of the picture..none?"
He brought things back on track, sauntering over to the window. He spread the blind with his index finger and thumb, looking out on the silent street. Across the way, the opposite buildings lined neatly on a quiet street. The new apartment design was to imitate the older, more stately homes, such as the one in which they now resided.
The buildings lacked the charm of the old, however. They were bunched together, with little more than a small walkway between, the yards small and cramped even with all the sculpted landscape which now, was faded dull with the on slot of an early winter just around the corner.
Cordelia chewed the inside of her bottom lip, racking her brain. Taylor Davidivitch looked around for a source of liquor.
"Anything out of the ordinary happened in the past, say..week or so?" Fusco helped out, putting his skills to work. "..Any odd occurrences, maybe even ones that seemed ok at the time, just..a little 'off' maybe?" He glanced to a reticent Taylor Davidivitch. "Odd as in, not your everyday routine and for you, that could cover a lot of area, we know."
Davidivitch smiled sarcastically over, crossing the soft cushioned rug with it's delicate rose and vine pattern, coming up behind Reese, leaning over his shoulder to peer out into the night, even as he did, still. He turned his head, sparing a small grin for her but then turned back, his mind clearly preoccupied.
Taylor sighed philosophically, giving her attention over to Detective Fusco, albeit reluctantly.
"The ONLY thing out of the ordinary that happened this week is that 'Princess Leia' over there actually delivered her new synopsis on time." Taylor said. "Oh, honey..do something with your hair." She requested, crossing to Cordelia who's hand had gone tentatively to the golden fluff, her face showing genuine concern. "'Wet' does not become you..not to worry, the Calvary is here." The woman shooed Cordelia's hands aside, having come up with a comb from the confides of the enormous purse she had left sitting on the divan earlier.
The girl sat back docilely while Davidivitch fiddled with her the long, damp curls.
"How many times have I told you.." the older woman chastised. "Presentation is everything!"
Cordelia shrugged helplessly. "It was raining."
"..A new synopsis?" Fusco got things back on track seeing Reese had showed a little interest in the information. "It's all we got." He too, shrugged. "What's this story about? Does it deal with a Congressman's shady deals, maybe? Military secrets?..an alien invasion?"
"I rather like that 'Congressman' thing." Taylor stopped the comb half way in stride down a section of Cordelia's hair. "Scandal sells big time."
Cordelia stretched her hand out, not wanting to disturb Taylor's activities with her hair. Fusco saw her difficulties, handing the notebook she had tossed aside when the two women first made contact.
"I'm kinda proud of this storyline, actually." She sorted rapidly through the thick pad, searching. "I think it has merit. Of course, I've only written the outline but it's coming together pretty…"
"Edit, Baby girl..Edit!" Taylor sighed heavily, piling masses of soft curls on top of Cordelia's head, securing the lush bundle with pins from her purse, a few of which dangled from the corner of her mouth even now. "Cut to the chase." She muttered around the clips.
"Thank you." Finch muttered his gratitude.
If Cordelia Fellows was offended by her publisher's admonishments, she did not let on. "Oh..ok." she had found her outline, reading a few lines here and there as she went down the page. "The story is about this guy, a non-descript man..well, not really because I know EXACTLY what he looks like.." she had halted long enough to inform her BFF a very important fact. "Should I say?"
Davidivitch waved her hand expressively to mean.. 'on with it..on with it, girl..'
"Who invents this incredible machine. A computer that has the ability to spy on the entire world through a network of cameras and listening devices that, really, are already in place. So the military wants to take it over, of course and there is some shady MIB crap that I want to throw in for the 'bad guy' organization. Maybe some secret government agency, I haven't fleshed that out just yet." Cordelia stopped for a breath.
Fusco watched Reese's impassible face closely, some instinct telling him that the man had grown too quiet suddenly. The other man had turned back to the room, standing rather indolently, his hands placed before him, laced together, the expensive army watch showing from the cuff of his right sleeve. The steely gaze taking in the room without seeming to do so.
Trying to read that enigmatical expression was like trying to solve the questions of the ages, however, so the detective gave up, returning his interest to the girl.
Cordelia referred back to her notes, happy to have an audience for a read out of her story. "The guy hoped that the machine could predict things like terrorist plots, assassinations..uncover international conspiracies.."
"It's really '1984' revisited." Taylor conceded graciously. "But with the correct marketing, we can sell it."
"It ISN'T '1984'!" Cordelia objected..strenuously. "I tried so hard to get away from the things I have been writi.."
"And you are not George Orwell." Finch had whispered the words, his voice..strickened. He had even stopped half-loop in fixing his tie. "Mr. Reese…"
"I know." Reese concurred quietly, sotto voce.
"Who knows about this treatment other than..the two?" Finch was..unsettled.
"Have you told anyone else about this?" Reese asked, his tone giving none of his rising nervous tension away.
"I thought the book had promise so I sent it up the food chain, why?" Taylor was savvy enough to pick up on something in Reese's manner. "What..what is going on here? It's just a freaking Sci-Fi novel…right?" she dared anyone refute the statement. The silence was more than deafening. "…RIGHT?" It was demanded.
"It's a rather intriguing plot, that's all." Reese replied evenly.
"Yeah, best seller." Taylor concurred airily, the large grey eyes swept his body lasciviously. "..Do you dance? With that body, it would be a crime against womanhood everywhere if you didn't." She blinked innocently, well..as innocently as she would ever be.
Harold Finch rolled his eyes.
John Reese chuckled lowly, his head shaking minutely.
Lionel Fusco sighed wearily. "Geesh, get a room already." He disgusted, walking away.