Meg's Apartment …
The apartment over the old general store had been home to the last four officers in charge of the Spencer Falls Post. There weren't many places in the rural area to rent near the post. Meg had called the old place home since she'd arrived. She'd cleaned and scrubbed, painted and repaired the place for a month after taking over the lease.
Enlargements of landscape photographs hung on the stair well walls leading up to her front door. The walls were a warm, sand color with Pacific blue and white accents. A print of Impressionist painter, Mary Cassatt's painting hung over the fireplace off to the left of the top stairs. Hints of muted yellow and purple gave the place a warm, welcoming air. Fraser was surprised that Meg liked this much color. He had always pegged her for more of a minimalist person.
"My head is pounding, will you get the Aspirin from the bathroom medicine cabinet for me, please, Fraser?" Meg asked, holding her throbbing head as she settled onto a hunter green couch in the center of the room.
The Mountie found the restroom, also painted a brilliant blue with white trim. Inside the white, enamel medicine chest he found a large bottle of Aspirin. He didn't intend to, but Fraser also saw a prescription for a sleep aid. The date on the prescription was recent. A second bottle had a much older date on it, almost nine years older. The new bottle was mostly full, but it concerned him just the same.
"Here you are, I'll get a glass of water." Returning to the living area, Fraser found Meg lying on the couch, her eyes closed.
"Thank you, Fraser." Meg felt humiliated that she'd had one of her flashbacks in front of Fraser and Ray Kowalski. She hadn't had one in so long, she'd forgotten the churning, terrified feeling of sheer panic rocking her to her core. Walking through the spacious living room, into an open, eat-in kitchen, he found a glass in the most logical place, the cabinet beside the sink.
"Have you had one of these flashbacks before, Meg?" Fraser used her given name, much to her delight.
"Yes, they started after someone ran my car off the road." Meg made as little out of it as possible. It was one can of worms she didn't intend to crack open. Fraser seemed satisfied with her answer. He looked around her apartment, his eyes scanning the walls. The place wasn't much but it was her sanctuary. A picture of a yellow, long haired cat peering intently into the camera lens sat on the fireplace mantel beside one of a very young Meg and a couple he could only assume were her parents in front of a small, white house.
"That was taken the day I graduated from the RCMP Academy. Those are my, well, were my parents." Meg sighed, speaking softly.
"I have a similar one of my father and myself." Fraser picked up the framed photo. He noticed the strong resemblance between Meg and her mother.
"My father was less than enthused about my decision but he was proud of me. Mom cried. She eventually accepted it." Meg smiled, remembering her parents' reaction to her announcement. They didn't think she would be accepted, but she was.
"My grandparents wanted me to further my education. Dad tried, initially, to dissuade me from joining the RCMP but it seemed only natural that I follow in his footsteps." Fraser set the photo back on the mantel and turned, his hands behind his back.
"Has Ben expressed any interest in following in the Fraser family footsteps?" Meg yawned, exhausted, her adrenaline rush wearing out.
"No, not yet, I believe he wants to try out for a professional hockey team just now." Benton smiled, thinking of the autographed sports poster on his son's wall. He had once had the same notion as a boy.
Meg pulled a periwinkle chenille throw off the back of the couch and spread it over herself. Fraser gently took her shoes off and placed them under the coffee table beside the couch. He pulled the throw down on her feet and perched on the couch for a moment. Meg looked at him in the dim light of a single lamp on the coffee table at her head. She blinked a few times, a yawn welling up.
"Will you be alright here alone?" Fraser asked, his tone concerned.
"Sit with me a moment, Fraser, until I nod off?" He saw a weary smile pull at her cherry lips. He simply nodded and settled himself on the floor beside her. The Mountie leaned against the couch, his Stetson on his knee.
"I've put you through the wringers, haven't I?" Meg almost whispered, her brown eyes searching his face, trying to memorize each detail, each line and plane.
"No need to bring anything up, Meg." He shrugged her off. They'd argued, apologized and thanked each other, all over the last three days. Gently, Meg tucked a stray curl behind Benton's ear as he sat looking at the empty fireplace. He felt the soft caress and closed his eyes, enjoying the simple action.
"If I had known the things I know now back in Chicago, I would have made different choices, better ones. It took my CSIS stint in Iraq to learn them though." Reluctantly, Meg pulled her hand back beneath the throw.
" ' Weep no more lady, weep no more. Thy sorrow is in vain, for violets plucked, the sweetest showers, will ne'er make grow again.'" I believe Henry Arthur Jones said in his book, Silver King." Benton spoke into the darkness around them, is gaze a universe away in a time long past.
"That was beautiful, Fraser." Meg wiped the grit out of the corners of her eyes from her make-up.
"It was a favorite quote of my grandmother's." Fraser smiled wistfully, his gaze returning to Meg's face. She was as beautiful as he'd ever seen her. The quiet between them was comfortable.
Diefenbaker whining at the front door brought the Mountie back to the present. The wolf was begging him to be let out.
"I should go. Do you need anything before I leave?" Fraser got to his knees, facing Meg. She smiled up at him, her hand coming out from beneath the throw. He gently laid his larger, rougher hand in hers for a moment. Meg squeezed his hand.
"Be careful, Fraser. This attacker has no qualms about killing you to get to me. You have someone else to think about now." Meg reminded him. She knew that if it came between Ben's life and hers, that Fraser would chose Ben. That was the way it should be to her way of thinking.
"Call me if you need me, Meg." Gently, Fraser leaned over and pressed a light kiss against her cheek.
"I will, Benton." She whispered as he pulled away, her eyes closed and the most serene smile on her features. Long, dark lashes laid against her cheeks.
Quietly, Fraser left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Dief was eager to see the out doors. He'd been cooped up too long in the air plane.
Fraser walked back to the post, a lot on his mind. The change in Meg's behavior puzzled him, as well as the old sleep aid prescription. He hadn't solved the mystery of what happened to his former boss lady while she'd been in Iraq.
Dief trotted ahead of the Mountie as he slowly walked up the street. There were so many new smells for the old wolf to explore. It had been ages since he'd taken in a lung full of air that didn't contain half car exhaust.
"She's hiding something, isn't she?" Fraser spoke as he stood outside the post, letting Dief sniff around for a while. The old wolf looked up at him, blinking as if he had the answer, if only Fraser were smart enough to read his mind. Fraser sighed, his thumb toying with his belt buckle.
"Benny, ya comin' in or not?" Ray's voice roused him out of his thoughts.
"Yes, Ray, I'm coming." Fraser moved toward the door, but Dief cut line. The Mountie chided him.
"Look who brought us lunch?" Ray grinned as he handed Fraser a sandwich. Dief whined for a slice of honey roasted ham. Maggie slipped him a paper thin slice as he came around the desk to her. Even saying hello to Aurora took a back seat to the scent of juicy ham.
"Hello, Benton." Maggie greeted him, pouring a coffee cup of iced tea for him. "Ray called, so I decided to come in early."
"That's my Mountie girl." Ray winked at her. Maggie rolled her eyes and smiled, flattered at the affectionate flirtation.
"Ray said that the Inspector was ill, how is she feeling?" Maggie asked, concern showing in her vivid, blue eyes.
"The forensics technician slammed his vehicle door, it must have triggered a flashback to our ambush yesterday morning." Fraser glossed over his thoughts on the real cause of her flashback. He didn't want to discuss it at the post with so many ears to hear.
"Has there been any word on the equipment theft at McConaughey Mining?" Fraser asked, changing the subject.
"McConaughey, like, er, Ambrose McConaughey?" Ray asked, suddenly interested in the case.
"Yes, I spoke with him yesterday. Someone stole expensive muffler converters off of five of his trucks." Maggie answered. Constable Hansen edged nearer the conversation.
"I've heard of him in my line of work, nothin' good." Ray shook his head. Maggie nudged him, giving him a warning glare. The former detective nodded, looking around the main room at the four other RCMP officers working on various tasks.
"I haven't heard anything." Maggie shrugged, nibbling on her sandwich.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Sirs, but Mr. McConaughey's theft report is awfully coincidentally timed with the ambush on Constable Fraser and the Inspector's Jeep yesterday." Constable Hansen added in a conspiratorial tone.
"I agree." Fraser said, his gaze on the vault housing the surveillance footage. There was something on it he hadn't seen, despite four hours of watching it. The ambush and the theft were connected, Fraser just didn't know how-yet.
"Constable Hansen, have you noticed a marked difference in the Inspector's behavior lately?" Maggie asked, her mind traveling parallel to her brother's.
"Yes, the Inspector has taken more sick leave than before and she seems rather moody on occasion." When Ray snorted he got two reprimanding glares and one bumfuzzled expression for his outburst.
"Sorry." He hid behind his coffee cup of tea.
"When did this start?" Fraser picked up Maggie's tack.
"Approximately three months ago." Hansen was beginning to feel like he was being pumped for information.
"Does the Inspector ever talk about her last posting, er, assignment or whatever?" Ray contributed. He'd read the Inspector's file, there were gaps he couldn't account for.
"Only very rarely, if ever." Hansen frowned, his young features downcast as he tried to fit the pieces together for himself. There was definitely something that the other Mounties weren't telling him. He was reluctant to inquire, torn between wanting to help and delving into something that was none of his business. Sometimes propriety stank to high heaven.
"What is the last posting you've heard her speak of, Constable Hansen?" Fraser elaborated, catching Ray's train of thought. It was a regular detective's brain trust. Hansen felt honored to be standing amongst them, knowing he could learn more from the three of them than anywhere else in the world.
"Ah, the Chicago Consulate I believe." The two Mounties and the former detective all looked from one to the others. They all knew when Meg had left the consulate and when she'd been assigned to Spencer Falls. There was a significant gap between the two.
"Thank you kindly, Constable Hansen." Maggie smiled at the younger officer, praying he wouldn't start asking a bunch of questions. He took a deep breath and squared himself before speaking.
"I have faith that you're acting in the Inspector's best interest. I don't need to know the particulars, I'd just like to say, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Inspector Thatcher has been a boon to the community of Spencer Falls. I wish I were half the officer she is." The young man nodded and excused himself.
Ray shook his head, his brows raised. "Is that Turnbull's younger, more coordinated brother?" He said in a whisper. The joke flew over the Mounties' heads. It was so quiet that Ray heard crickets outside.
"The first order of business is to find out about the gap in the Inspector's career. We need to have more background on Ambrose McConaughey as well." Fraser outlined the plan briefly.
"I'll take McConaughey, you two can have the Mountie stuff." Ray shook his hands, separating the assignments. Maggie and Fraser looked at each other.
"Ray, what exactly are you doing here in Spencer Falls?" Fraser asked, confused.
"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Both Mounties shook their heads. "Yeah, the Inspector hired my company to investigate. I came down on her dime." The blonde detective rubbed his fingers together and grinned like a Vegas high roller.
"Inspector Thatcher must be terrified of something." Fraser gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw working briefly. If only she had simply asked him, he would have made time to help her. All the cloak and dagger tactics only served to confuse the issue. He wondered why she felt the need to hide her troubles from him.
"After all this time, after all she's seen of my character, doesn't she trust me?" Fraser wondered silently. He remembered she'd spoken of making different choices and wondered if he shouldn't have made a few choices differently himself.