On the Way Home …
Meg settled into the backseat of the Riv beside Dief while Ben and Ray got situated in the front. She couldn't stop seeing Josh Reitman's expression when Ray mentioned his mother. Could someone who loved his mother that much be lying?
"So, what's the verdict? Is the kid tellin' the truth or what?" Ray asked in general as he pulled out of the jail's parking lot.
"He's telling the truth." Ben and Meg answered in unison.
"Yeah, I agree. The kid's boss also called Welsh last night. Seems the kid left a note in his Chevette before he stole the boss' car. Said he was sorry, that he could have his car in return. They guy said he really only reported the car stolen 'cause the cops wouldn't fill out a missing persons report for his mother." Ray shrugged.
"Well, there is more than one way to skin a cat, as my father would say." Fraser added thoughtfully.
"Yuck, why would you want to skin a cat?" Ray asked, shivering.
"It's a metaphor, Ray. It means there are various ways to accomplish the same goal." Fraser explained patiently. If he hadn't joined the RCMP, Fraser would have made an excellent teacher of college professor.
"The question now is, what do we do with this information?" Inspector Thatcher asked from the back seat.
"That is a good one, Inspector. Wisconsin is a little out of my jurisdiction and a whole hell a lot outta yours." Ray commented.
"There's been a murder, an injustice, we have to help." Fraser declared resolutely.
"Perhaps we should contact the FBI?" Inspector suggested, turning the matter over in her mind. She didn't like thinking an elderly lady had been mown down and the culprit free to do it again. Still, Meg didn't want to get any more involved than necessary.
"Yeah, and let some goombah like Agent Ford handle it?" Ray shot her down.
"Quite right," Meg conceded. Diefenbaker barked in agreement.
"Anyway, Welsh wants us to meet with the mother. You two comin'?" Ray changed the subject. In the back of his mind he knew he'd end up going to Wisconsin before the case finished.

The Twenty-seventh …
Mrs. Reitman sat in Lieutenant Welsh's office waiting on Detective Vecchio. Like her son, she had brown eyes, dark, curling hair and a slim figure. She clutched her purse strap nervously as she waited for the meeting to begin.
"Ms. Reitman, this is Inspector Thatcher, Constable Fraser and Detective Vecchio. Constable Fraser witnessed the hit-and-run." Welsh began, smoothing his blue and red striped tie over his paunch. "Hello," Mrs. Reitman greeted them with a tight smile.
"Has Joshua spoken of his reasons for leaving home, Mrs. Reitman?" Ben asked, his voice cordial.
"Yes, he called me on his way to Chicago. He told me about the Mayor hitting poor Ms. Jackson and leaving her to die like that." The lady shook her head sadly.
"You knew the victim?" Ben shifted in his chair, his leg aching from overuse. He'd refused to allow Ray to wheel him into the station like an invalid.
"Yes, Martha Jackson was a sweet woman, she worked at the deli. She must have been on her way home from work that night." Mrs. Reitman sighed.
"Joshua said that the mayor, sheriff and police chief are all close friends, are they close enough to cover up a murder?" Inspector Thatcher asked, leveling a compelling gaze at the woman.
"Yes. I was in school a few years behind them. They all chose to fail the eighth grade so they could play football a year longer. Those three have owned our town since they were teenagers." She didn't try to hide her resentment.
"Why hasn't anyone reported 'em before now?" Ray chimed in, eager to be included.
"It's a very small, rural town. They do favors for each other, divert some money but basically, no one's been hurt, until now. Besides, who would believe us against them?" Mrs. Reitman shrugged tiredly.

By the time Ray, the Inspector and Fraser had spoken with Joshua, his lawyer and mother, Ben's leg ached from activity. He walked toward Ray's desk, his breathing heavy. Meg noticed the tension in his face first.
"I guess this is the part where we let Elaine dig around on these guys." Ray began, taking a seat at his piled up desk.
"Yes, that would be a good idea, Detective. Fraser and I will pursue other avenues." Meg stated, hoping to help Ben save face in front of his friend and unofficial partner. She didn't like the way Ben looked so pale.
"And what 'other avenues' would that be, Inspector?" Ray turned his attention away from his in-box to the female Mountie still standing.
"I'm not without my own initiative, Detective, there's no need to second guess me." Meg answered steadily, one hundred percent bluffing.
"Yeah, okay," Ray gave a skeptical eye roll, "So, Fraser, you goin' with the Inspector or stayin' with me?"
Meg watched Ben look from Ray to her, his loyalty torn between his boss/girlfriend and his best friend. She gave him a glacial death glare, hoping to sway his decision.
"Ah, Ray, I believe I'll accompany the Inspector to the consulate. I'm sure Elaine will be ample assistance."
"Thank you, Ben." Meg thought to herself. She didn't really want that doe eyed Civilian Aide
around anyway.
Ray begrudgingly let Meg call a cab from his desk phone.

"Do you want a cup of tea, Ben?" Meg asked as she closed and locked the front door.
"Yes, thank you kindly." He dropped onto the sofa with a grunt. Diefenbaker, who'd found his own way from the Twenty-seventh Precinct, curled around his dog bed and laid down.
"Have you taken your medicine yet today?" Meg shook one of the rusty colored plastic bottles with little pills inside.
"No," came the guilty answer.
"Ben," Meg chastised with a word. She tossed the pill bottle toward him easily.
"Margaret, I'd rather not take a pain pill just now, there are still pieces of this investigation that don't fit." he set the bottle on the end table beside the sofa.
"Take one, Ben, you're in pain, you've over done it today." Meg brought out a mug of herbal tea, steam rising off the dark liquid.
"Margaret," Ben began again.
"No, take a pain pill and rest, because I said so." Meg gave him a glare half a second before her expression softened to one of concern.
"Someone has to take proper care of you, heavens knows you won't." She took took his free hand and squeezed.
"Thank you, Margaret." Ben squeezed back as he looked up at her steadily, a tired smile on his lips.
"You're welcome, Benton."
A few moments later, covered in a red, lap throw, Ben slept soundly. Meg curled up on the end of the couch with a note book to gather her thoughts about the case.
****