Made of This Chapter Four
-G-
AN – This is definitely a slow burn, so I hope you're all settled in and that you like how this is going, any feedback you want to give is always appreciated!
Disclaimer – I do not own any characters or stories from the show Grimm. No copyright or infringement intended. It's all for fun, no profit being made here.
Title and song quotes come from the lyrics of Eurythmics' 'Sweet Dreams'. If you don't know that song you don't belong in this fandom (I joke, but still …)
-G-
Keep your head up.
-G-
I sigh as I close the front door and am finally home. It had been a long day. This most recent case hadn't been as cut and dry as first thought, and our day had gone from one body to another to an almost other and, although we'd gotten the suspect and had made the arrest, it had all been a bit convoluted. Not to mention, tiring. The only highlight to the case was that it didn't involve Wesen, which always added another layer that I had to deal with, not to mention explanations to give Hank and Wu as we worked together. Without thinking I pull my phone out and dial a certain number, wincing as my eyes catch the time on the clock on the wall but unable to stop my actions.
"Hello?" Her voice comes through soft and slow and I can't help but smile a little at the sound of it.
"Hey, I didn't wake you, did I?" I ask as I pull a beer from the fridge.
"No, it's ok," Adalind replies, sounding tried herself. "I've only just got Diana settled and asleep."
"This late?" I ask, eyeing the clock again that tells me it's just after eleven at night. I take a seat at the counter and set my beer in front of me. I debate also getting some food but it feels too late to eat, especially if I hope to get to sleep before midnight.
"Yeah, she went to bed at her usual bedtime but she couldn't sleep and so I had to stay with her until she felt … comfortable … enough to sleep." The slight hitch in her voice tells me there's something more there, some further detail she's leaving out, but I don't question it. Adalind and I have been talking on and off for the past few weeks, at different times and on random days, and she's only just started to include mentions of her life with her daughter.
We've talked food, some places she's been since moving here, little details about our jobs and careers, as well as a few remarks on Wesen either of us have met or had interactions with. It's been slow, but each phone call has her voice sounding surer and her responses come quicker and with more confidence. She has also kept calling and accepted my calls to her, something I find myself doing more and more. I find myself looking forward to our chats, knowing she'll say something that I haven't heard before or just giving me her viewpoint, providing a different perspective and so giving me more insight into who she is. So far, it's proving she's someone I want to know.
"I don't have much experience in that area, uh, childcare," I state then clarify. "Though Hank has some stories from when he used to babysit his Goddaughter." By the way he told them, those stories might be the reason Hank doesn't yet have children himself. I decide to push a little with my next question. "How's Diana found the move?"
"Alright … there's still some adjustments going on." She pauses, before her words come. The hesitation then continuation makes me smile, a little, as it shows how far we've come and how she's coming to trust me more. "A move like this, though she was well prepared, still has challenges and changes to what we might expect." I can only imagine. From my own past, and moving when I was a child, it had been a big change and something that I hadn't always dealt well with. Although, at the time I was also dealing with the deaths of my parents, so that might be colouring my memories slightly. "She does love how many parks there are here, both natural and those with swings. Swings are a definitive favourite, though we have also spent quite a bit of time going on exploration trails around the different parks as well."
"That sounds great," I comment, thinking it did sound good. I remember Aunt Marie doing similar 'adventure days' when I was younger. The air was different when you were surrounded by trees and everything seemed simpler in such green spaces. I didn't get much chance, or reason, to do anything like that anymore, unless we had to hike to get to a crime scene. "And you? How are you liking Portland?"
"It's … good," she exhales. "Different, very different. But good."
"What do you mean by 'different'?" I ask and hear a stuttered breath.
"Just … different," she replies and there's a pause as I wait to see if she'll say anything else before it becomes clear that's it.
"Ok, well, I haven't always been in Portland myself," I say, trying to share more so that, maybe, she'll feel comfortable doing the same. "I actually-" I break off as I hear a sound that's out of place, echoing slightly, before realising that it's a young girl's voice and it's coming from Adalind's side of the phone. There's some rustling and I can hear Adalind talking to someone, her tone soft and calm yet muffled, before her voice is suddenly loud and clear again.
"Nick, I have to go, I'm sorry." She speaks quickly, voice tight and I can tell she's trying to control how she sounds, though I'm not sure if that's for my benefit or her daughters.
"That's ok, is everything alright?" I ask and hear a plaintive 'mommy' in the background.
"Yes, I think so, I have to go, we'll talk again soon," she says in a rush before the line goes dead. I glance at my phone, the call duration information flashing at me, but then toss it onto the counter top next to me. Taking a long sip from my now lukewarm beer I consider this conversation, as well as all the others I've had, with Adalind.
There's just something there, something that holds my attention. I mean, she's beautiful, that I've acknowledged from the few times I've seen her in person, but it's not just that. It's been easy to talk to her, first about mainly mundane things and recently a few titbits about her knowledge of the Wesen world. She gets more comfortable with me the more we talk but there's also something more, a hesitance in what she says and the phrases she uses. I can tell she's holding back, and although it could be because she's a Hexenbiest and I'm a Grimm and she's wary of me, something in my gut says it's more than that. That whatever brought her, and her daughter, to Portland wasn't as clear cut as she's portrayed.
Maybe it's the detective in me but it just niggles at me, and I can't help but clock all the nuances from our conversations so far and the information she shares and build it into the start of a picture in my mind that I'm not sure, but heavily suspect, is not as pretty as it all appears.
-G-
"What we got?" I ask as Hank and I join Wu on scene. It's still early but the shop we've been called to is a hive of activity, lights on and people moving in and around the space. There's already evidence markers set out and the tell-tale colour stain of blood in the carpet. We try to avoid the glass on the floor as we move inside, but as most of the shopfloor is covered in it, it's a hard thing to do.
"Robbery, with a side of assault," Wu details. "Shop owner was locking up when attacked by two assailants and then they turned their attention to the shop, which they quickly destroyed. He's currently in critical condition, early reports aren't looking good for his survival and security tapes are being downloaded as we speak, though I'm guessing from the sheer number of cases broken that they were looking for something." I scan the shop, looking around the free-standing glass jewellery cases to the ones attached to the walls. It doesn't look like there's one still intact, but many still have objects inside, though they've clearly been tossed about. Given the initial assessment, I'm inclined to think Wu's right and that someone was looking for something specific.
Wu goes to sort out the footage while Hank and I spend a little longer at the shop, inspecting the cases and then the back office, which has keys to the filing cabinets and inside an alphabetised inventory of what the shop had, dated just two weeks ago, with photos included. Not believing our good luck, we halve the papers between us and look through what, exactly, this shop had. From there it's easy, though more time consuming, to go through and find the missing items. We leave the uniforms to secure the shop, heading back to the precinct armed with the pages detailing which items had been stolen.
Wu meets us with the timed footage of the assault and robbery, and we all watch as two masked assailants enter the shop as the owner, one Stuart Allen, had started to lock up and see the beating he took before one started smashing and the other then riffled through the contents exposed. Once everything was broken into, the first joined the search and it was about a minute later that they found what they'd been looking for, scooped us the two items and left. They were in, beating, smashing and grabbing, and out again in under six minutes.
"They knew what they were doing, this was planned," Hank points out and Wu nods.
"Security alarms were set off but they were in and out with time to spare before the company did the check in call and then alerted the police when no one answered," Wu replies and I nod in agreement with Hank.
"By the way they're moving and how direct they are, they had to know what each of them were to do and have an idea that they were on a timeframe," I say. This was definitely showing all the signs of being premeditated.
"All that and for what exactly?" Wu asks and Hank brings up the paperwork with the missing items details.
"A dish, made of gold, that depicted a dragon and a griffin and a golden feather that slots into the side of it," he reads out. "From his records, our shop keeper bought it two weeks ago, from a private owner after a family death. He'd estimated its value and had it on display as price on request." I stare as he points out the items on the page to Wu, then angle my head as I look closer. The owner was meticulous in his recording, having taken several photos of every item, he had, which is great for us and this investigation, and I study them as something seems off in the image before me.
"Gold?" Wu asks while looking at the size of the item and letting out s soft whistle. "I'm guessing there was a hefty price tag of that thing."
"Any information on the family mentioned?" I ask but Hank shakes his head. "Or any other feathers?"
"What?" Hank asks and I lean over to point out the side of the dish in the photo that's caught my eye.
"Just, look at the size of the slot in that photo and then the feather, and the picture of them together, it looks like there's room for more." I point out and both Hank and Wu inspect the pictures as I tap them and indicate where my thoughts are at.
"So, what? You think the item was incomplete?" Wu asks and I shake my head.
"I don't know, but it just doesn't look right to me," I say and see Hank and Wu share a glance. "What?"
"Your hunches are usually pretty good, partner," Hank answers.
"I'm off to do research on golden dishes and feathers," Wu states and walks back to his desk, as Hank pulls the photos we do have closer for another inspection.
"Alright, I'll contact the hospital and see if there's any news on our shop owner, who hopefully can give us some more info on what, and maybe why, this dish is something someone would commit several crimes for." I say, hopeful but remembering what Wu had said of his condition at the scene. I slip my jacket off before taking a seat and pulling my desk phone towards me, while booting up the computer to check the details of which hospital our victim was sent to.
"You recognise this?" Hank asks after a few minutes, and points out another photograph of two marks on what appears to be the bottom of the golden dish.
"Makers marks?" I guess with a shrug, looking closer as I wait on hold from the call with the hospital, before glancing up at Hank.
"Something else to research," he mutters and pulls the paper back towards his side of the desk, sitting down and starting his own computer. I squint as I consider that, something about the mark on the right being a little familiar, before a voice pulls my attention away and I fall into the usual lines, when questioning medical professionals.
-G-
"And it depicted what?" Monroe asks as he carries a box through the spice shop.
"A dragon and a griffin," I reply as I follow him and he looks intrigued. I'd stopped off at the spice shop on my way home, just to check in with my friends and see if either of them saw a connection, or something of the like, with my latest case. Monroe had greeted me and was now, not letting me down with his usual ability to recall historical information.
"Both mythological creatures, signalling strength, power and wealth. Linked with several ancient religions and gods, as well as used in a fair few families, for their family crests and the like," he spouts off and I nod, having learnt this from our day spent researching the dish and what it could mean and be linked to. "Of course, they've also been linked, or I suppose claimed, by several different Wesen varieties, as symbols of their influence and forte."
"There were marks on the bottom, one which seems to signal an early version of a jewellery maker but the other didn't bare any resemblance of any mark or signal that we could find a report of, yet it seemed familiar to me," I say and bring out my notebook, where I'd sketched the two marks down. Handing it over Monroe brings out and slips on his glasses so he can study it closer. "The one on the right is the unknown."
"Huh," he mutters. "It does seem familiar, but I can't place it straight away, sorry." He hands back my book after another look and I glance down to stare at the clean lines of my drawings before flipping it closed.
"No worries, where's Rosalee tonight?" I ask and Monroe launches into a tale of family drama, traditions, a grandmother's dress and wedding dress fittings, even when the dress isn't wanted. I feel slightly sorry for Rosalee, having to make concessions on what is essentially her day, but know she'll be happy as long as the day ends with her and Monroe married and together for the rest of their lives.
"As you're still here, you could help me lock up?" Monroe asks as he finishes his explanation and I nod, moving to the shutters to bring them down as Monroe works on securing the till. The bookcases are covered and he sets the alarm as we double check the back door then exit out the front. I give him a brief goodbye and watch as he goes to his Beetle, debating going home myself before climbing into my Land Cruiser and driving out towards the trailer.
There's something just niggling at me, that mark lingering in my mind's eye and I'm wondering if it's something I've seen in a Grimm diary. It's probably not the best use of my time, just going to look blindly through the books with no real direction to start with, but I have nothing else planned for my evening and at least I'll feel like I'm doing something if I continue my research.
That feeling swiftly leaves as I pull book after book, scanning through them but not seeing anything that looks like the mark I'm searching for, or anything that could even be linked to it. I'm starting to consider that maybe I've seen it somewhere else when I'm interrupted by my phone.
"Burkhardt," I answer, not even glancing at the caller I.D, as a Wesen drawing catches my eye.
"Nick?" Adalind's voice sounds echoey and tinny. I drop the book down to the desk as I straighten up.
"Adalind?" I say, happy to hear her voice. "Hey, how are you?"
"Nick? Are you there?" She asks, speech not clear at all.
"Adalind?"
"I can only just hear you," she says, her voice going in and out. I look to my phone display and see I've only just got cell coverage so move out from the desk and then exit the trailer.
"Is this better?" I ask, taking several steps away from the metal structure.
"Yes, that's much clearer," she replies and I walk to lean against my car, grateful it's a fairly mild evening. "Where are you?"
"I'm … out," I reply, swallowing at the weak reply and not sure why I'm hesitating about saying where I really am. It's not like I haven't already mentioned Grimm books to her, I did that at our second meeting, but that feels different to telling her about the trailer.
"Out? Out, where?" She questions, a slight warmth to her tone.
"Ah, out doing research, for a case," I reply, not wanting to lie but also feeling slightly unsure about sharing exact details. "Where are you?"
"At home, finally," she sighs. "Today, work, has seemed absolutely endless."
"I know the feeling," I say back and she huffs a laugh. I shift, spreading my legs slightly, so it's easier to rest my weight against the side of my car. I could open it up and get in but I'm alright here for now, enjoying the fresh air and conversation.
"Ever get a case where you feel like you're going over the same information, over and over and over again, with nothing to show for it?" She asks next and I grin at the slight dramatic tone to her voice.
"I've had cases like that before, yeah," I confirm.
"And it's not even my case, a co-worker asked for me to lookover some final paperwork before it went to court and now apparently, I'm fully on board and working the case too," she comments. "Sorry, I'm ranting. You don't need to hear the boring details of my day."
"But I want to," I reply and hear her breath hitch. "I want to hear anything you have to say."
"Why?" She asks after a long pause and I kick the ground as I contemplate what to say next.
"I like hearing what you have to say," I offer. "I like getting to know you, slowly but surely, and, just talking to you." There's silence and I wonder if I've said too much, pushed her too quickly with putting more meaning to this, thing, we have, that I feel we have and could build more of, before she's ready.
"I like it too," she admits softly and I can't stop my grin. "Which makes no sense whatsoever."
"Does it have to?" I ask and hear her hum as she considers that.
"I don't know," she admits. I open my mouth to say something convincing but a beep in my ear alerts me to another call. I want to ignore it but it's Wu, and he'd only be calling at this time because it was important.
"Adalind, could you hold for just a moment?" I ask and when she confirms I quickly switch to the other line and hear Wu, giving me an update on the latest case, sharing rapid details of another jewellery store smashed and robbed. I get the address and give him an ETA of my arrival before hanging up and reconnecting with Adalind. "I'm sorry but I have to go."
"Got a case?" She asks and I nod then make a noise in the affirmative.
"Yep, there's always something happening in Portland," I quip and hear a soft laugh. "We'll talk again soon, ok?" It's kind of become a thing we say, a signing off of our calls but also a promise that it won't be the last time we talk.
"Yes, Nick, we'll talk soon," she confirms and I hope that's a smile in her voice that I can hear. I have one on my face as I bid her goodbye before locking up the trailer properly and then heading into my car to drive to our newest crime scene.
-G-
I'm draining my coffee cup when Hank nudges me and I turn to see the captain getting out of a car and begin striding towards us. It's not often that the captain comes to the crime scenes themselves but as this is our fourth jewellery shop break in and robbery in a row, with more damage and another shop owner in the hospital, it's not surprising he's come.
We spent last night at two other stores, hit within an hour of each other and had had a day of reviewing security footage and looking through inventory, luckily being able to talk to the owners who could help with our investigation. Our first shop owner was still in the hospital, having fallen into a coma from his injuries, and talk was definitely starting to circulate within the community of jewellery shops being targeted. Now, with this fourth shop, on the third day in a row, the pressure was on us to get some results.
"What have we got?" He asks as he stops by us, looking into the shop.
"Same MO as the previous robberies," Hank starts. "Timed as the shop owner was beginning to lock up, incapacitate them first and then work their way around the room, breaking cases and looking for the items they're seeking. Far as we can tell, nothing was stolen from this store, like the second. And considering there's some expensive and rare jewellery in here, this is definitely a search for specific items, rather than a general, take everything and anything they can grab, robbery."
"So, out of the four stores that have been hit, only two have actually had something taken?" Renard clarifies and we both nod. "And you believe these items are linked?" He directs towards me.
"Yes sir," I reply, thinking he must have seen my earlier notes from the first case. "And we believe the items are linked, a golden dish and feathers that slot inside. The first store had the dish and one feather, the third store hit had another feather. By this shop being targeted as well, it makes me believe there's still more missing items that are linked to the original, perhaps more feathers or else other gold elements that fit, maybe making it a set."
"A solid theory," the captain offers and then glances around again, looking inwards to the shop as well as outwards, where a crowd has gathered behind the police tape lines as well as cameras from the local press. "I don't think I need to tell you that with this latest lawbreaking, with the repeated actions but similar details, the press is clamouring at the bit for the story behind it." We all glance at the camera's pointed our way then before turning away. "I have every confidence you'll get the evidence needed to catch these perpetrators and make the arrest." He offers a nod and quick quirk of the lips before moving to discuss something with a near-by uniform.
"Back to work then," Hank murmurs and turns to go back into the store but a tingle at the back of my neck makes me pause. It's a sensation that has me scanning the crowd, knowing that I'm being watched. No one jumps out to me as being suspicious so I do one more sweep of the faces in the groups standing behind the tape before following my partner in.
-G-
"So, guess who I saw on my television today?" Adalind says, somewhat brightly, as I pick up her call.
"I have no idea," I reply as I close my front door and drop my keys onto the shelf next to it. I shrug out of my jacket, one arm at a time so I can keep my cell next to my ear to hear her reply.
"It was you, actually," she states and I pause, frowning.
"What? Me?" She laughs at my incredulous tone and it makes me smile, just a little, even in my confusion.
"Yep, you, definitely you, along with your partner, Hank, was it? And Sean." She details and I connect the dots, moving down the corridor towards the kitchen so I can start some meal prep as we talk.
"Ah, so we made the local news," I say dryly, remembering the cameras outside the jewellery store from earlier in the day.
"You sure did, Diana was very excited to see her daddy on the small screen, and she remembered meeting you, which made it even better because then she knew two people on the television," she says next, voice warm, as it nearly always is when she mentions her daughter.
"Diana remembered me?" I ask in surprise, having only seen the little girl once, back at that community ties day.
"She sure did, you're a detective," Adalind confirms with a laugh and I remember that was how the captain had introduced me.
"Well, she's not wrong, and that was the reason why I was on the TV, doing detective work," I reply with a grin and get another laugh.
"I'll be sure to tell her that," she comments. "I didn't realise the case you were working was so … uh, visible?"
"They're not usually, and if they are, normally it's the captain that gets to be the face to the press. Doing press conferences and the like. But a couple of local stations managed to pick up the story of our current case, or rather the mystery around it and that we've got repeat offenders, and multiple victims and business affected, so they're hot on our tails with reporting it." I explain and she hums.
"Yeah, Sean always did like doing speeches and having attention on him," she mutters and it's a reminder that she knows my boss a lot better than I do. "It was a bit funny, or maybe weird, seeing a Grimm standing so casually in front of a Wesen business, though."
"Wait, that jewellery shop is Wesen owned?" I ask and hear her stutter. "Adalind, I'm not about to go do anything to them, except try to solve the case of who broke in and robbed them," I point out and she sighs.
"I believe that," she says and I feel a swell of happiness, or maybe pride, that we've reached a point where she can say that. "I guess I'm still on that, almost instinctively, thinking a Grimm near Wesen isn't a good thing."
"I understand," I say but then go on to ask. "But, it's a Wesen business?"
"Yes."
"What about the others? Can you tell me if they're Wesen owned too?" I press, quickly naming the other shops that had been hit. She can only tell me that two are Wesen owned, but it's enough for me to see a possible pattern that I haven't looked into yet. And it makes me think of that mark that I initially thought was Wesen, before getting distracted with the next lot of robberies. "Could I send you a picture of something? A mark that I think is Wesen but haven't been able to confirm?"
"Sure," she sighs and I pause, hoping in my excitement at a possible breakthrough I haven't made her uncomfortable.
"If you don't want to, or aren't comfortable, helping me, uh, helping a Grimm, I understand," I start but she interrupts.
"Nick, that's not it," she says. "And I'm not helping a Grimm, per say, but helping a friend who asked me too."
"Friend," I repeat and while it sounds good, I can admit to myself that it doesn't sound quite good enough, not to me.
"Friend," she confirms. "At least, I hope its ok to say that."
"Of course it is," I reply, while mentally adding in 'for now'. Even if I can't say it out loud, I can be honest with myself and admit that I'm interested in more, with her. "If it's ok, I'm going to end this call, send you the picture as I grab some food, then call you back?"
"Take your time, Nick, I'm not going anywhere," she hums and I agree before offering a goodbye and ending the call. As I attach the picture of my drawing of the mark to a message, I hear my front letter box clatter and frown as I hit send. It's fairly late for any kind of delivery so I walk back towards the front door, seeing a lone letter on the mat.
Bending down I flip over the envelope then jolt upwards as I see its addressed, simply, to 'The Grimm'. Without thinking I snatch open the front door and step out, looking up and down the street but there's nothing moving, nothing that seems untoward and it's clear that whoever posted this is long gone. Walking slowly back inside and closing the door behind me, I stare at the plain packet, holding such an unknown, before lifting it to inspect it. It's plain white, the writing on it almost text-like but definitely hand written, though with no smudges or anything else to mar its appearance. No obvious scent or lettering that can be seen through the cover, providing no hint at its contents at all. Nothing left for me to do but open it.
Sliding a finger under the opening I pause to see if anything is going to come out as the flap is loosened but as nothing happens, I proceed, fully pushing the top back and seeing the paper inside, pull it out slowly. It's white, unlined and holds a few simple sentences.
They are close. Be wary. They are watching you.
-G-
AN – Hope you liked it!