Glad to see you're liking Milk!
Tori: Cal really did get a got to deal with his own loneliness, everything else is an unplanned bonus, so to speak.
Now, on to the new chapter.
A few weeks went by with the same pace: work was always the main focus for everybody at the Group, but Milk's presence always helped. Sometimes it was nice to have his goofy muzzle around when the load and stress of work were too much for the staff, and it was equally nice as a distraction when things were a bit slow and everybody could relax.
That day in early February was one of the first kinds, not so much for the load but for the weight of the work, as it usually happened when children were involved. The Group had been hired by a man tangled in a nasty custody case; he and his former partner currently had shared custody but things were likely to change soon in favour of the father. The mother didn't seem too interested in fighting in court, which was odd to him considering her fiery character, and he suspected that she planned on doing something crazy like taking the kids and making a run for it before the next court date.
As he sat in the meeting room facing Cal and Gillian and explaining his situation, Mr Brown apologised if he sounded paranoid but the experts didn't think he was. He shared the court file, clearly showing how his ex-wife had gone from presenting endless motions, trying to discredit him with the court and firing accusations of all sorts to being suddenly quiet and compliant with the court's decisions. It certainly was a strange change of attitude, one that couldn't have been suggested by her attorney since she had dumped hers just before Christmas and started representing herself.
Trained to look for lies and deceit in pretty much anything and anybody, Cal and Gillian had not dismissed the man's fear, certainly not when he mentioned that he had heard from common acquaintances that his ex-wife had allegedly put in a request at work to be moved to the Denver branch of her company. It didn't really add up, leaving the state wasn't a good move if she was trying to prove that she could provide a stable environment for the children. And even if Mr Brown wasn't saying it, they could tell what was going through his mind: the Powell case was way too fresh in the news for a father fighting for his kids not to go down that path.
Mr Brown didn't have any proof, just a lot of speculation and bad feelings. And as people used to having to explain how an eyebrow raised at the wrong time might mean 25 to life, they fully understood his frustration in failing to get through to the police.
They had taken the case, needing only a silent look between the two of them to agree on the fact that they were not going to charge the concerned father of two a full rate. The day after his visit, Gillian and Loker went to see the ex-wife at her place of work knowing that they didn't have much ground to request to see where she lived and that, in all honesty, she was well within her rights not to talk to them at all. But Gillian knew human nature and knew liars, and counted on the fact that people who had indeed something to hide would take it as a challenge to prove the other wrong, especially if they were indeed lying. Loker watched with the usual mix of admiration and satisfaction as the boss led the woman from a strong opposition to discuss the custody case to be eager to talk about it as much as she could, vainly hoping to fool them and failing to see the trap they had prepared for her.
Within minutes of their conversation, Gillian was about ready to call DC police and have her arrested, or at the very least under surveillance. The woman was all over the place, doing a very poor job in explaining the sudden change in strategy and an even worse one in denying that she had nothing in mind but the wellbeing of the kids. The more she talked, the more Gillian thought about the father and the genuine concern all over his face, and the more she felt enraged.
Classy and professional as she was, Gillian carried on and bottled it all up, only to unleash it all later that day in Cal's office. It was late in the afternoon and most employees had gone home, and she had been waiting for Cal to come back from another assignment with Milk keeping her company. It was supposed to be the other way around, but she definitely needed the pet's soothing presence more while she rewatched the recording of the woman's interview. She had messaged Cal that she needed his take on it and knowing they were in for a long evening he had stopped to get some food, and they ended up in his office eating while discussing both cases as an appetiser.
Once they were fed she got into it, showing Cal the recording and not feeling like she had to hold back anymore. The woman was not stable, certainly not enough to take care of two small children, and in her opinion there were too many red flags to count. However, and Cal admired that about his friend, Gillian was very aware of the fact that she wasn't been objective about it and was willing to put her own judgement on hold until she'd had a second opinion.
Watching the recording projected on the wall through, every now and then Cal would throw a look behind his shoulder where she was sitting by his desk, absently petting Milk while she leaned forward, watching him watching the video with intense attention all over her face. Cal knew he shouldn't, but he was kind of distracted by the determined side of her when it came out like that. He knew she always cared, about any case really, but every once in a while one came about that really got to her and she would go all in, emotionally invested and not willing to let go.
That evening however, Cal was also distracted by her posture and overall look. She always looked great, but in the recent weeks he had come to notice how she seemed to look even better when Milk was around. She had taken to the pleasant distraction of the dog around the office in stride, he had been ready to back off any minute and find another solution but after a few days he had realised that if he had stopped bringing Milk around she'd be more than upset about it. He didn't quite know what his silly dog did to her or why, but she seemed to be smiling a lot more than usual and, most importantly, to be more relaxed and willing to enjoy herself more. He knew she was ok with it, she was a mature woman who could make her decisions and look after herself, but sometimes he took pause on the fact that besides those at work she didn't seem to have many personal relationships in her life: she had him, she always would, but she had to share him with Emily and sometimes Zoe whenever their daughter was involved…not to mention other occasional companions, at least until the recent past.
For some reason, and honestly with no planning on his part, Milk had connected with her and when he had realised just how easy it had been Cal had decided to allow that connection to develop as much as possible. Partly because she really looked like a different person when the dog was around, and partly because when she was around he could try to convince himself that no, he hadn't adopted a dog just because he felt lonely without his daughter.
So yeah, he was a bit distracted watching her sitting there, laser focused with her eyes but at the same time never missing a stroke of her hand on Milk's head, which he was resting on her lap drawing Cal's attention and evoking a silly sense of jealousy. Then Gillian looked up at him and he quickly averted his eyes, finally ready to offer his opinion.
"You are right," he said with a nod. "She's up to something."
"I know, but is there enough to get the authorities involved?"
"Well," Cal huffed and went to the couch to sit down, "I understand why Mr Brown couldn't get through to them but I like to think we have enough credit to spend with law enforcement to make a good case."
As he went to sit down Cal had to pick up Milk's favourite toy to make room for himself and the dog immediately left Gillian's side and ran up to him, clearly thinking it was finally play time for him. Cal chuckled and complied, holding tight on the stuffed owl already half-chewed when the dog bit into it and started to pull with that playful soft growling that they had come to know as his 'young at heart' noise.
"Let's focus on the facts first," Cal said, seemingly busy playing with Milk but in reality extremely focused on the case. "Do we think Brown has good reasons to be worried?" It was a rhetorical question and Gillian knew it, they both agreed on that already but she nodded anyway so he could carry on. "Right then. She did confirm she asked to be moved to the Denver office of her company, so it's fair to assume she is planning a move."
"True, but she's not on parole on anything like that," Gillian objected, playing devil's advocate for the sake of the exercise. "She's allowed to."
"She is. But why would she, right in the middle of a custody case?"
Gillian thought about it, grateful for Cal's step-by-step approach. She knew she had been too emotional about the case so far, and his slow manoeuvring through the information they had was extremely helpful. They were going to get where she wanted - proving that Mr Brown was right and stop his ex-wife before it was too late - but they couldn't miss a passage if they wanted it to stick. Following his pace, Gillian took the time to look at things from a different perspective and reason with rationality rather than emotions. She stood up from the chair and moved over to the coffee table in front of the couch, sitting there while Cal and Milk continued their stalling tug of war game until Cal passed the toy over to her. Gillian didn't quite understand the gesture at first, she was more for cuddles when it came to entertaining Milk rather than play, but when the dog started to gently pull at the toy with his teeth and she had to fight back she realised how strangely soothing the dynamic was. Milk wasn't aggressive, she was starting to think he didn't have a mean bone in his body, but he applied just enough strength to force her to pull back without exaggerating. On top of that, Gillian found that it was somehow easier to focus her mind while busy with that meaningless exercise.
"Two options, three maybe," she said then, like Cal keeping her eyes on the dog but her attention where it was really needed. "She knows she has no chance to win full custody, or even shared one and she're ready to move on." She didn't try to hide the disgust in her voice thinking of a woman who could so easily leave her children behind, and Cal felt a brief and familiar ache inside for a moment. "On the other hand, she might have some ace up her sleeve for the court and is sure she will win, and get to take the kids to start a new life in Colorado."
"Possible, but why be so guarded about it then?"
"Because of option number three," Gillian replied, pulling a little harder when Milk seemed to be ready to take things to another level. "She has her own plan, regardless of what the court will decide."
As far as Cal was concerned, that was enough to alert authorities, and they could probably call in a few favours with their best contacts to get things rolling. But one thing was stopping the woman in the short term, whilst another was to make sure there was a strong enough case in the long run and he felt that they needed to find something that would stick. Thoughtful, watching with an absent smile as Gillian and Milk kept on their silent and empty argument over the toy, Cal looked back at the frozen frame of the woman on the big screen and studied her face even though, a bit uncharacteristically for him, it was her words he was trying to reply in his mind.
"What about schools?" He asked then.
"I don't think it's necessary. He's pretty well behaved for a rescue," Gillian joked, hinting at Milk and making him chuckle. Then she looked up at Cal and saw he was leaning on the serious side and immediately focused, frowning and trying to place his question. "What about them?"
"For the kids." He slouched down on the couch, dangerously close to falling off as usual and with his knees now almost touching hers. "She applied for a job in Denver, all well and good, that's for her. But is she looking to enrol her kids in school there too?"
"I don't know…would we even have a way to find out?" Gillian enquired, already alerted by his line of reasoning.
"You kidding love? This is America, you can't do anything without a written request!" He burst. "You know we were living in Delaware when Emily was born, then we moved to DC when she was four. Let me tell you, to move her from one school to another was a bloody nightmare! If the former Mrs Brown is looking to take the kids to Denver one way or the other, at the very least she's looked into it and that's going to leave a paper trail."
"Cal!" Suddenly Gillian let go of the toy and smacked his right knee softly. "You're a genius!"
"I have my moments," he grinned in response, always happy to impress her with something good. "Do we know what schools the kids go to here in DC? We can start from there."
"It should be in Brown's file."
Gillian jumped on her feet and went back to the desk where they had left the file, and when Cal saw that Milk was about to follow her he got the dog's attention and patted the spot next to him on the couch. Milk considered his options, but eventually decided the comfy couch wasn't such a bad idea and hopped on, abandoning the toy in exchange for some pet by his owner. Relaxing with his dog, Cal kept an eye on Gillian as she quickly found the information on the file and took the following steps without needing to check with him. They had worked enough cases with schools of all kinds in DC to have one of two contacts to call, and even if it was late in the evening there was a good chance that by putting in the request at that moment they were going to receive their answer in the morning.
Which was great, except for the fact that after a day on the emotional edge Gillian suddenly found herself with nothing to do but wait.
Cal smirked when he saw the thought dawn on her, then motioned her to come over to the couch and take a much needed break. Knowing she had no counter, and still far too energised to call it a night, Gillian did as suggested and sat on the other side of MIlk, who was having the time of his life getting all the attention. Cal had the head and was massaging behind his ears, while towards the back Gillian was taking care of a spot by his tight that always seemed to need a good scratch.
For a while, the only sound in the room was the quiet and rhythmic thumping of Milk's tail on the leather of the couch, a clear sign that he was enjoying the double act and had no intention to put an end to it. Neither did they, finding the cuddle-giving activity pretty much as soothing af if they'd been on the receiving end of it, perhaps more for the soul than the body
"Is this wrong?"
"Uh?"
Cal's monosyllabic response to Gillian's sudden question sounded like it came from another dimension, but after all so did the inquiry with that absent and almost dreamy tone of her.
"Us hanging around like this, talking about a case while playing with the dog?"
Cal didn't quite know where that came from, even considering how incredibly responsible and dedicated to her job she was. The way he saw it, it was a ludicrous statement: first of all, they were pretty much done working since now all they had to do was for the authority to check on their lead and report back, and technically they weren't exactly playing with the dog.
Also, he was starting to think, the dog was so much more than just a dog.
"Quite frankly Foster," he mumbled in a low voice, never stopping his actions on Milk, "seems to me like he's become an integral part of our thought process here."
He thought it was a nice joke, a silly line with a good balance between acknowledging the meaning of her observation while also dismissing it with grace. But when Cal looked up at her right after he spoke, a fraction of a second before she would rather quickly avert her eyes, he caught a brief expression that looked a lot like disappointment. About what or why he couldn't quite tell, the ever present fault in their science, but Cal decided to brush it off not to ruin the moment.
Which was about to come to an end anyway, because it was getting late and they'd both had a long day.
Gillian agreed on his take and they joked about giving Milk a job title of sorts for a few minutes, then they stood up and tidied up the room before taking their stuff and leaving. Once outside, despite immediately feeling the cold, they stood just at the main entrance of the building wrapped up in their coats and looking up at the night sky.
"It smells like snow in the air," Cal muttered with an absent voice, then caught the shocked and amused she looked at him and shrugged. "What? You think you're the only one who feels about that sort of things?"
No she didn't, but she'd never really heard him say anything like that and it was a pleasant surprise, even more because he seemed to own it rather than act as if he was ashamed he had been caught voicing that silly thought. Smiling, a smile that in Cal's eyes could lit up the night, Gillian pushed him softly on the shoulder and shook her head, then closed up in her scarf and sighed looking up again.
"It's been like this for days, and still nothing."
Cal smiled at how sweetly heartbroken she sounded about something like that, something Milk picked up too as he briefly licked her hand as to show comfort. Then Cal sighed again and nudged her shoulder as she had just done, mumbling softly.
"Don't worry love, it'll come." He gave her a small but sweet smile, then his eyes suddenly became serious and focused before he added. "When the time is right."
Gillian turned towards him with curiosity, having caught the strange change in his voice register on the last bit, but by then he was already walking towards his car with MIlk in tow and she didn't get a chance to even wonder what he might have actually been talking about.
As a note, the Powell case I mentioned is a real one and if you like true crime I'd suggest to look it up. On the other hand, it was a horrible case thatn didn't end well so if that is not your thing I strongly advise not to get into it because it really is heartbreaking.
Now, still a slow burn?
