A/N: Wahoo…! Another chapter of seeming randomness. I don't really know what this is; character development I guess.
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It was pitch black. Zelda's eyes shot open. Where was she? For a couple moments she sat petrified in the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She saw the dim outline of a lamp and reached for the switch. Light flooded the room, and Zelda realized where she was: her office. Still. What time was it? She looked at the clock on the wall and winced. Three o'clock in the morning!
Crap, she thought, quickly collecting her papers and throwing them into her briefcase. Falling asleep at work was becoming almost regular; it was a bad habit she really had to learn how to break.
Zelda stepped out of her office and locked it. The firm looked so much creepier at night than it did during the day. The hallways were completely dark, but that didn't keep Zelda from knowing exactly where she was going. Straight, left turn, straight, right, stairway. The first step downwards did not catch her by surprise at all, she'd been walking this same path for nearly five years and was now quite confident doing so in the dark hours of the night.
That didn't make her like it any more, though. Heading for her car, Zelda still had the feeling she was being followed, or watched. To ease her nerves, Zelda turned on the car radio as soon as she got in. Immediately, she began station surfing for a song that fit her mood.
It's the time of the season for loving—
Too sketchy.
BORN TO BE WILD!!
Too loud.
Oops, I did—
Zelda didn't even allow Britney the luxury of finishing "it again;" she switched the station so fast her finger bone made a cracking noise.
…All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray…
Perfect. Zelda relaxed into the slow, somewhat depressing song. She had never personally dreamt of California (she lived there), but the song had always been an odd favorite of hers. Just then, as if to add to the mood, it started to rain. With a sigh, Zelda turned on the window wipers.
She passed a totaled, golden Toyota. Zelda looked out the window as she drove by, slowing down slightly; noted an upset-looking teenage girl being comforted by an older man balancing a cell phone on his shoulder. Glass and car parts littered the ground at their feet. Out of the corner of her eye, just as the wreck was nearly out of sight, Zelda saw somebody's arm sticking out from inside of the car.
Got down on my knees, and I began to pray…
As she drove on, Zelda frowned. For being so generally referred to as merciful, it seemed that God could sure be ruthless sometimes. I hope they turn out okay.
She got home at 3:35, much quicker than usual—but then, she hadn't had to sit through the normal morning traffic. Quiet as a church mouse, Zelda entered the house and locked the door behind her. Silently she headed towards the door that initially led to her bedroom, then changed her mind and direction. Zelda removed her heeled shoes, set them by the kitchen, and stalked up the main marble staircase.
Her brow furrowed. A sliver of light was coming from around the corner down the hall, where Megan's room was. Not even wanting to consider that the girl might be awake at this hour, Zelda resignedly headed towards the light.
The door was practically closed. Zelda put her hand on the knob, but didn't open it right away. She shut her eyes and tried to compose an expression that was not too angry or impatient looking. Just picture a face opposite the ones mom used to pull. Funnily enough, that did it and she cautiously entered the room.
Megan lay with her back to the door, underneath only a sheet, the quilted covers kicked to the floor. Zelda gathered them up and glanced at Megan's face.
She was fast asleep.
Zelda suddenly felt a foreign urge to brush some of Megan's hair out of her face, maybe kiss her cheek, something those mothers in the movies always did. But Zelda did nothing, because she was aware that the kids in those movies were unnaturally deep sleepers, as deep as the script required them to be. Megan would wake up in an instant. Zelda turned off the light and exited the room.
She dumped the heavy blankets into the bathroom closet, then went back down the staircase. Across the living room, down the hall…she opened a stark white door and climbed the carpeted stairway behind it. The stairs led to Zelda's bedroom.
So tired was she that Zelda only pulled off her coat and unbuttoned her shirt before falling onto her bed.
&-
Morning came rough, hard, and early. Glancing at the clock, Zelda realized with a start that she had never set her alarm. It was 9:30. Zelda jumped out of bed as if she'd been electrocuted. She thought rapidly as she changed clothes—no meetings with Dragmire today; she supposed if she had he'd fire her for being so late. She ran to brush her teeth and deducted there was not time for a shower. Or makeup. A slew of curse words went through Zelda's mind as she grabbed her bag and flew down the stairs.
Malon, meanwhile, had just noted something strange. Lowering her coffee mug from her lips, she said, "That's weird, Zelda's Lexus is still in the driveway. Does that mean she's still here?"
Link leaned back in his chair so he could see out the window. "Huh."
Right on cue, Zelda came bursting out of the door leading to her bedroom. Malon and Link stared at her. She stared at them.
"Zelda, shouldn't you be at work?" Malon asked slowly.
"Overslept," Zelda said shortly, rubbing at the bags under her eyes. Half-heartedly brushing some loose strands out of her face, she added, "Got home real late." She looked over at Link. "Megan's got a piano lesson today, around five-thirty. There's a check for her teacher on the marble table by the front door."
"Roger that," Link said.
Malon gave her friend a wry smile. "Megan was real cute last night, she insisted on waiting up for you as late as she could."
"I wondered, actually," Zelda said. "Her light was on when I got home."
"She's in a deep sleep right now. Couldn't wake her up with a mallet to the head."
Zelda looked like she was teetering on making a very important decision. Malon was giving her a polite accusatory look. "Well, I have to be getting to work."
"Bye, Zel," Malon said, drinking from her cup once more.
Away from Malon and Link, Zelda paused in the entrance hall, her hand on the knob of the front door. Then she did a 180 and walked up the main marble staircase. She hoped Malon wasn't pulling her leg. Indeed, once Zelda reached her daughter's bedroom, it was to find the girl very deeply asleep. Aware that she was throwing caution to the winds, Zelda sat down on the edge of the bed.
A different mother might have smiled at this sight: their impossibly cute little girl lying in bed, normally straight blonde hair scraggly and unkempt and catching the dim sunlight coming in through the Venetian blinds, and one arm clutching a stuffed animal dog. Yes, another mom might have smiled at this, but Zelda felt like crying.
She leaned over, brushed some hair out of Megan's face, and kissed her on the forehead. Not daring to linger, Zelda swiftly got to her feet. "Love you, honey," she whispered, more to herself than to Megan. After that, she didn't dare to stay a moment longer; she was already extremely late. Zelda hurried down the stairs and practically ran out the door. Trent, the family dog, tried to waylay her by the rose garden; she patted him on the head distractedly, then made a beeline for the car in the driveway.
Her red-headed friend watched her zoom off. "She said it was all right to paint your room today."
"Great," Link said, returning to his bowl of cereal. "Guess I'll go to the paint store as soon as Megan gets up."
"Oh yeah, she wanted to go along, didn't she?" Malon asked, smiling.
"Yup. You have any interest?" She laughed and crossed into the living room. Link grinned. "Come on, Mal, what else are you gonna do all day?"
"All right," Malon chuckled, sitting down on a couch. She picked up the photo album she'd abandoned yesterday. Link hesitated in the doorway, then went to sit down next to her.
"Whoa, who's that?" Link asked, his eyes wide.
"I'm assuming you mean the girl?" she asked, smirking.
The photograph Malon had opened to was of a couple: a boy with sandy brown hair and blue eyes, his arms around a beautiful girl with dark brown hair in a ponytail to the side, and dark brown eyes alight with happiness and arms around her knees, which had been pulled up to her chest. They were both looking up at the camera, smiling broadly. Link thought how deeply it contrasted with the painting of the Cleverly girls he'd seen. The caption read:
Jack and Emily in Turtle Park, '99.
"Jack is Zelda's half-brother," Malon explained. "Two years her senior. Emily is our age, and they hooked up when we were sophomores. They were one of the few couples I knew in high school who were actually seriously in love, and are, interestingly enough, still together today."
"Really?" Link asked with interest, wondering if he knew of any high school romances that hadn't died by now. "That's really cool." He said this in spite of a small twinge of jealousy towards Jack.
Malon made some sort of noise of agreement. Link thought he noticed a look of dislike on her face as she stared at the photograph. Not wanting to be directly blatant, he said, "Are you, er…okay?"
She sighed deeply, then smiled slightly. "Emily Hamilton and I were in the same basketball league growing up, and let me tell you she was the star. Never missed a hoop, never acted overly polite—like a lot of the other girls did—never fouled anybody… and never screwed up a pass. She was just Jack's type."
Link detected a trace of bitterness in her tone. Then Malon seemed to come out of her reverie. "Zelda was in the league, too. A little…less skilled than Emily, a bit clumsy in the running exercises. But she stopped in eighth grade, because her mom said practices and games would get in the way of her studying."
"Sucks." Link was thinking that he would not like Zelda's mother very much. "How long did you and Emily play for?"
"We went the whole way, up 'til senior year." She paused, looking puzzled. "Come to think of it, Emily actually played through college, had a scholarship. I know she could have gone on to professional if she hadn't chosen to go into advertising." The red-head gave the smallest of scowls and turned the page. "Team picture," she said, pointing unnecessarily.
There was Malon, standing on the very end at the left, her red hair pulled back into a swift ponytail. Link's eyes scanned the photograph for the two other faces he knew he would recognize. It wasn't hard; Zelda and Emily, the two stars of the team. They were the only ones with their hair down, kneeling in the front by themselves with a basketball between them. Zelda's sleek blonde hair went down to her elbows, whereas Emily's (equally straight) stopped just below her shoulders.
"State Championship?" Link asked, looking at the banner behind the team.
"Yup," Malon said in a would-be casual voice, but with a hint of pride. "Our best year and best team."
And then Megan came into the room. "Good morning!" she greeted them enthusiastically, jumping onto Link's lap.
"Hiya, kiddo."
"Are we gonna paint your room today, Link?"
"Sounds good to me."
"YAAAY—"
"Let's go to the paint store!" Malon declared jubilantly, closing her book.
"—AAAA—"
"Megan, you're gonna pass out if you keep that up," Link advised her.
"—AAAAY okay."
Once again, they all piled into Link's pick-up truck.
"What's your favorite color, Link?" Megan asked.
"Green."
"Why?"
No one had asked him that before. "Uh, well…I guess because it's…the color of grass…. the color of trees, and emeralds."
"What're emeralds?" Megan asked.
"They're gems, stones. Real pretty. You know, like in The Wizard of Oz."
"What's that?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Haven't you ever seen The Wizard of Oz?"
"No…anyway, we should paint your room green, Link."
Five minutes later, they were at the paint store. Megan was ecstatic when she saw a hot pink color, but Link pointedly steered her towards the greens. She first found a bright neon, then a chalk-board color called "Fancy Free."
"The master of this maison said nothing garish," Malon told him, skimming the pain samples. "What is it you're looking for, exactly?"
"Something muted," he replied. "Nothing too dark or too pastel."
"What about this one, Link?" Megan asked, pointing to a color.
"Forest green…" The name seemed to spark something in him. The color was dark, but not so dark that you might not think it was green. "This is it, Megs. Not too garish, is it, Mal?"
She smiled. "Not too garish."
After the purchase, Malon helped Link load the paint cans into the back of his truck. Megan was given the difficult task of carrying brushes. Once again she asked if she could sit in the open back, but once again Link felt disinclined to acquiesce her request.
"Link could we go to McDonald's for breakfast?" Megan asked. "Pleeeasee?"
"Hmm, I dunno," Link said, smiling. He gave Malon a sideways glance. "Malon, what do you think?"
"Oh please, Malon, please, please??" Megan pleaded rather pathetically.
Through her teeth, Malon said, "I hate to see a Cleverly grovel…" Then, in a louder, clearer voice, she said, "Why don't we, Link?"
"Looks like I'm outvoted," Link said, turning the wheel sharply. Lo and behold, they were in the McDonald's parking lot.
"Ya-hoo!"
"Goddesses, I haven't been to one of these in ages," Link said, locking the truck.
"Their hash browns aren't bad," Malon said, giving a noncommittal shrug. "I just remember being a kid and asking my parents to take me to McDonald's every day… and how sad I was when they always said no."
Link nodded sympathetically.
Just as they were near finishing their breakfast, it happened. Megan had to go to the bathroom (that's not really the "it" to which I was referring, but leads to the event). Malon got up to take her, leaving Link alone at the table, and that's when it happened.
A man with slightly graying hair turned away from the soda machine, nudged the woman beside him, and pointed to the table next to Link. The man Link immediately recognized as the Zelda-bashing Steve from the zoo yesterday. He looked worried.
"All right, Steve," the woman said, gently patting his arm. "What do you want to meet me for?"
"I just found out who your dead father and living sister's lawyer is," Steve said, his words slightly muffled because he saying them through his hands as he rubbed his face tiredly.
"All right, who?" the woman asked, trying not to sound bored.
Link thought he already had a fine idea who.
"Janet, she's, uh….someone pretty notorious."
"Go on, Steve, who? Judge Judy?"
"Listen, Janet, you need to take this seriously," Steve said, lowering his voice. "It's Zelda Cleverly."
Janet stifled a laugh. Her lawyer gave her a stunned look as if he couldn't believe what she was doing. "I'm sorry," she chuckled. "But…don't you think that's kind of a funny name?"
"I don't know," Steve replied, sounding annoyed. "All the Cleverlys are regarded as opponents to be feared, no matter what their name is."
You were singin' a different tune yesterday, Link thought. He saw Malon coming out of the bathroom, and quickly motioned for her to stay away. 'Stall,' he mouthed to her, jerking his head towards Steve as subtly as he could. Malon nodded and said to Megan in a loud voice that they should go to the Play Place. Not surprisingly, she took up on the offer at once.
"All the Cleverlys?" Janet asked. She looked thoughtful. "Do you mean… as in… Clarissa Cleverly?"
"The very same," Steve answered. "The legendary non-fiction Billy Flynn. And her daughter's no different. Mind of someone twice her age." He leaned back in his chair, but not in a relaxed manner. "Has never lost a case."
Janet stared at him, looking tense for the first time. "But Steve, you're a good lawyer. And justice has to be on my side, it was my dad's cash, and now it belongs to me! It's mine, it's my right!"
"If only it was that simple," Steve sighed. "But you and I both know that's not the case. What Cleverly wants, she gets. She goes over the top for pretty much anything. I heard she just hired a bodyguard for her daughter."
At this, Link choked on his water. Bodyguard? Was she serious? A few people looked around at him in alarm, including…
"Honey, are you all right?" Janet asked concernedly.
Link forced his gaze upon her; he was red in the face. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, thanks. Just went down the wrong tube, I guess." They seemed to be wondering what he was doing sitting there alone with no food, so he hastily picked up an old newspaper by him and pretended to be reading it.
"She hired a bodyguard for her kid?" Janet asked, turning her attention back to Steve. "How old is the girl?"
"I dunno, seven or eight," Steve said. "Word on the street is that so far she's hired a string of unsatisfactory 'nannies,' and she's gone for someone tougher. Cleverly reduced her first nanny to tears."
Link raised an eyebrow. That was a bit of a freaky thought.
"Why do you know all this?" Janet asked, sounding doubtful.
"You gotta know your enemies, don't you?" Steve countered, not looking fazed by the question at all. "She doesn't know it, probably, but Cleverly's the most-talked about lawyer in the country."
There was a silence between the two of them. Link rubbed his nose and turned a page of the newspaper. The noise seemed to make Steve stiffen up.
"Fortunately, I've managed to dig up some old cases that might help our noble cause," he said, reaching a hand into his bag.
"Thank the Lord for Nancy Drew and Carolyn Keene, huh?" Janet said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Steve gave her a confused look, and it was at this time Link decided to leave. Tossing the newspaper into a trash bin, he walked into the Play Place. Malon saw him over her shoulder and called out to Megan. Just as he was sitting down next to Malon, Cleverly Jr. dashed up to him, red-faced.
"Oh Link, can we just stay for a few more minutes? Please?"
"Yeah, go ahead," he replied, waving his hand dismissively.
"Yes!" And she ran off.
"Let me guess," Malon said before Link could speak up. "The people sitting next to you were talking about someone near and dear to us both, weren't they."
Link turned a sigh into a laugh. "Well, I don't know about 'dear,' but if you mean your friend and my boss, then uh…yes. The man was one of the wise guys from the zoo."
"That's weird," Malon said, raising her eyebrow. "He a lawyer?"
"Yup, and he was with a client. Apparently he's worried, because Z—er, Ms. Cleverly is his, um…adversary."
"Oh, he's going down," Malon said, very matter-of-factly. "The Cleverly name usually means victory. Zelda's one of the most…geez, I just cannot think of the right adjective to use…"
"Brilliant, maybe? I've heard about three people say that."
"Guess it's liable," Malon said, smiling darkly. "You know how back in grammar, middle, and high school we'd do those mock court cases? In fifth grade, everyone's little speeches or whatever were all like, thirty seconds long, and Zelda goes up to do her bit… I swear, ten minutes at the least."
Link whistled.
"I know. It put everyone on the 'jury' to sleep, except me, because I was trying to be a good friend and listen."
"Did she win?" Link asked.
"Yeah, of course," Malon snorted. "I remember, because our teacher kept going on and on about Zelda's ingenious tactics. Eventually, up 'til junior year, teachers were always pressured into putting her on the jury, because inevitably, whichever side Zelda was on won."
"You don't sound bitter at all," Link remarked sarcastically.
Malon made an amused sound and smirked. "It's just that Zelda was like… everybody's ideal. Teacher's pet, upperclassmen's darling, freshmen's idol, guys'… fantasy girl…"
Link raised his eyebrows. Malon seemed to realize what she'd said and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my Goddesses!" she gasped. "I really didn't mean to say that!"
"S'okay," Link assured her. Fantasy? He could not honestly say he found Zelda —um, Ms. Cleverly—unattractive. In fact he thought anybody who claimed that would be telling a down-right lie. It didn't take a genius in bifocals to tell Zelda Cleverly was absolutely gorgeous. The only thing was before now, Link had been determinedly seeing her through professional eyes only. Now he knew he was going to have trouble.
There had been an awkward silence, which Malon then decided to break. "You ever have a friend like that? One you felt overshadowed you, or… I dunno, was more popular than you?"
"Um…" How to answer this question. "This is gonna sound…well, I didn't have so much friends as I did a…uh, well this group of people who followed me around, so…"
"You mean like a gang?" Malon queried, reading between the lines.
"Well, I was trying to avoid using that word," Link said pointedly. "It usually tends to give people the wrong impression. We didn't go around stealing kids' lunch money, vandalizing walls, doing pot at lunch…we were just a group of guys who happened to dress a certain way and be labeled as outcasts."
"Oh," Malon said quietly. "I…I know how it feels to be given a label."
Link gazed thoughtfully at a statue of Ronald McDonald. "Maybe I shouldn't let on, though. Ole Steve thinks he heard Zelda Cleverly hired a bodyguard for her kid."
"A—" Malon burst out laughing. "Link, you have to follow up on that one!"
"I—what?" Link asked, confused but smiling.
"Dress the part!" Malon said, looking ecstatic at the very idea. "You know, leather jacket, black jeans, dark sunglasses…that would be so awesome, wouldn't it?"
"I dunno, I'd feel kind of like a poser or something. I'm supposed to protect—no, not protect, look after—a lawyer's daughter, not the President's."
"But Link, consider: wouldn't you rather people said fearfully, 'There's that guy Zelda Cleverly hired to be her daughter's bodyguard' than 'Ha, ha, there's that chump of a loser Zelda Cleverly hired to her little girl's nanny'?"
Link had to ponder that one. He hadn't enjoyed the prospect of telling people he was a nanny, and Steve/Malon's idea provided a sensible scapegoat. A grin found its way onto his face and he laughed. "You know, I think I will follow up on it."
Something had distracted Malon from verbalizing a reply. It appeared that Megan was attempting to drown a little boy in the arena of plastic balls.
"Megan!" they both cried, leaping to their feet.
The mini Cleverly lifted her head to look at them. "What—"
"GOTCHA!" shouted the boy, getting somewhat to his feet. He shoved her down into the sea of plastic balls.
"Hey, little dude, that wasn't cool!" Malon said.
"Nice disciplining," Link said, rolling his eyes.
"Thanks."
Unawares, Steve and Janet had run into the Play Place, the former looking furious. "Is that your kid?!" he spat at Link.
"Megan Katryn Cleverly, you get out here!" Malon said, embellishing the last name. Obediently, Megan came skipping out.
Relishing in the half-angry, half-horrified expression on Steve's face, Link turned his collar up and said, "Nope, I'm her bodyguard." And with that, the three of them made a very impressive exit.
MEANWHILE…
"Well as I live and try not to breathe, look who decided to get up this morning!"
Zelda had been trying to enter her office clandestinely, but most unfortunately for her, had been spotted by Schreiber. With a sigh, Zelda opened her door but didn't go in.
"Forgot to set the alarm," she said to Schreiber and a couple other people who had congregated at the spot.
"Of course you did," Schreiber giggled, in a voice that was doubtful but was clear she wouldn't delve into things. "You're lucky Dragmire isn't here; he'd go ballistic at seeing you so late."
"Dragmire's not here?" Zelda repeated. "Why not?"
"You know that rainstorm what happened last night? Two trees fell on his house," Schreiber said, looking as if she was trying to suppress a laugh. "Now come along, Zellie, you've missed a butt-load of work." She steered Zelda into her office, then closed the door behind the two of them. She started digging around in her bag for something.
"Um…weren't you just saying how much work I had to do?" Zelda asked.
"Not my exact words, but generally yes," Schreiber answered, pulling an extremely heavy-looking book from her bag. "I thought you might want to see this."
It was a high school yearbook.
Zelda gave a mirthless laugh. "You don't give up, do you."
"Go on, go on, it's like a mini-résumé," Schreiber said, opening up the book. "It's a means of research, right?"
"Uh, well…"
"Here," said Schreiber, showing the clubs section to Zelda. "He's on the bottom row of the picture on the top left, see?"
"The Hayao Miyazaki Fan Club?" Zelda read, raising an eyebrow. "That's… uh, unique." She squinted and looked at the caption, listing the club members' names. "You've outlined his name in pink. And drawn a heart next to it."
"Um, yeah, he was cute?" Schreiber said, as if this were blatantly obvious. She took the yearbook back from Zelda and started flipping through it again. She was going through the Senior pictures, and Zelda stopped her at the S's.
"Hold up there, Schreiber, I want to see your Senior quote." She cleared her throat. "'Eliza Schreiber.' Hm…Anne Frank…interesting."
"Why, what was your quote?"
"Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche DuBois: 'I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.'"
"Only you," Schreiber sighed, turning to the V section. "Well, there you go."
Zelda felt her insides flip. She wasn't sure why, because she'd already seen how good-looking he was; there was just something about seeing him there, at age eighteen… he was beautiful.
"He looks….really familiar," Zelda murmured in a voice most unlike her own. "Strangely familiar…"
"Well, of course he does," Schreiber said, sounding exasperated. "I mean, you've just hired him."
"Oh, right, yeah," Zelda said, though she still had this odd, nagging feeling it was for another reason. She was now reading his quote: 'I coulda been a contender.' "Why is he quoting On The Waterfront?" she asked curiously.
"Oh, is it from a movie? None of us knew that! We just heard it was his way of spiting the principal one last time."
"Uh-huh…" She looked down at the rest of what he'd written. She stared. "What about his dad?"
"Huh?" Schreiber asked, peering at the picture.
Zelda put the book so that it was in a position from which they could both look at it. "He said, 'Thanks mom, I love you,' and doesn't mention his dad."
"Hmm…maybe they don't get along? Or maybe he died…"
"No, he's alive," Zelda assured her. "He's my neighbor, remember?"
"Right…"
The phone on Zelda's desk rang, and she hastened to go answer it. "Hello, this—"
"CLEVERLY!" boomed the voice from the other line so loudly that Schreiber could hear it and Zelda had immediately moved it to an arm's length away. The speaker continued to bark as if he and Zelda were on opposite ends of a football field: "If it wouldn't PAIN you too much to break up your little gossip section, would you mind asking Schreiber to GET HER SORRY OVER TO MY OFFICE?!" He hung up.
Still rather well-composed, Zelda gently put the phone back on its cradle and said calmly, "I think Mr. Wickham would appreciate a meeting with you."
"Ugh, I forgot," Schreiber groaned, hastily putting the yearbook back into her bag. "I was supposed to meet him five minutes ago to discuss Scheffler's financial standing." Then, with a bit of difficulty, she heaved the bag onto her shoulder. "If you ask me, not even you could score a win for Scheffler, which is saying something."
"Don't think she has a prayer, do you?"
"No, but she was put up to it from her parents, who apparently think that she does have a prayer. I think she had her hopes down from the start. That's second rate motivation, which means it's a second rate lawyer they're hiring."
"You're not a second rate lawyer and you know it, so you need to stop fishing for compliments, because it won't work," Zelda advised Schreiber as she shut the door. Maybe now I can actually get some work done. She got up and locked her door, then promptly chastised herself and picked up the phone.
Dialing, dialing. . .
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mido."
"…Zelda! To what do I owe this great pleasure?"
"I got to work late, I've got a lot of catching up to do, so I'm going to get straight to the point," Zelda said, very fast. "You went to high school with Link Vaughn, right?"
"Uh, yeah," Mido answered, sounding a little surprised. "Yes, I did. What, what's he gone and done?"
"Absolutely nothing, so you can drop that suspicious tone right now," Zelda said sharply, feeling as if she was reprimanding a teenager. "Megan really loves him. I just wanted you to give me your honest, unbiased opinion of what Link was like at school."
"Well, certain things have to be taken into account here," Mido said, choosing his words carefully. "I didn't know him for as long as our peers, because we went to different elementary and middle schools, and then he moved and was gone for sophomore and junior year."
"But he came back for senior year?"
"Yeah."
"That's weird," Zelda said, sounding puzzled. "Where'd he go?"
"Dunno. I still saw his parents around town, so I knew he hadn't moved. Just trying out another school, I guess. Maybe a private one." A second later, Mido added as a mental note that he doubted Link's parents would be able to afford that.
"What else do you remember about him?"
Letting out a reminiscent sigh, Mido thought about how best to reply. "Well, one thing for sure was that Link wasn't afraid to stick up for himself, or for what he believed in…I remember he was in my health class, and no matter how much the other guys teased him, he'd always remain an advocate for anti-smoking and drugs. Oh, and I can also recall that he was pro-abstinence."
"Really…" Zelda said, her interest piqued. "And did people believe him?"
"I don't think everybody did, but the majority, yeah." Mido's voice turned colder. "In fact, a lot of girls seemed to think it was pretty sexy. This one kid Eliza Schreiber said she broke up with her boyfriend because he didn't treat her the way she thought another guy would, if you catch my drift."
"She named him?"
"No. I don't think Link ever even knew how well-liked he was."
Zelda cleared her throat. "Uh…you do know that Eliza Schreiber is one of my co-workers, right?"
He gasped. "What?" Whoa, I had no idea…that is really weird."
"Yeah. Well anyway, I'd love to continue this nice little chat, but I'm afraid I've much too much work to do. Thanks for the insights, Mido."
"Any time. Bye."
"Bye." She hung up the phone, stared into space for a few moments, then began reading all the information she had dug up on Janet Topham.
&-
A/N: I felt bad for not including much L/Z-ness in this chapter, but I guess when I was writing this story I wanted the suspense to build up. There's probably some parts it could do without, but I like writing about the small details of life here. Sorry if this chapter was just more crap, ha ha.