Chapter Text
Title: Butterflies Are Free
Author: Laura Lee
ARCHIVING: Well, let me know if it is easier for me to attach the entire story and send it via email to someone for archiving. Yes, archive...
Butterflies Are Free
by Laura Lee
The squad room was colder than usual as Ray winked at Francesca. "Hey Frannie," he said as he passed and noticed Fraser sitting next to his desk. "Hey, Fraser, what?s shakin??"
"Shaking?" he enunciated.
"Yeah," Ray replied. "Shakin?." He paused and looked the Mountie up and down. "What?s going on in your world," Ray clarified.
"Ah," Benton said, adding a nod. "Shaking." He processed the information and looked up at his anxious partner. "Leftenant Welsh wanted to tell you what?s shaking," he replied, seeming proud of his new word usage.
Ray glanced into Welsh?s office and saw the Lieutenant behind his desk, a jovial grin on his face. As Ray looked about the room for the cause of the smile, he saw the figure of a woman. Moving a step sideways so he could see past a notice taped to Welsh?s window, he squinted to peer through the blinds. Just then, the feminine figure turned. First he was caught by the flash of dark auburn hair flipping from her face, then he noticed the dark emerald eyes looking back at him.
Smiling just enough to show his dimples, Ray straightened and so did the woman. She turned back to Welsh and Ray turned to Fraser. "Whoa. Who?s the hottie with Welsh?"
Fraser turned to look through the window. "What is a ?hottie??"
"Fox, babe?" he said just as the door opened.
"Babe? Ah, you mean the lady with whom he is conversing? I believe he wants to discuss that with you."
"You know something?" Ray asked, but was quickly interrupted by Welsh.
"Vecchio, my office now."
Welsh returned to his desk as Ray passed through the office door. He watched the woman stand back from the door to let him in and noticed as her head turned that there was a hidden streak of oddly coloured hair. It appeared to be a purple streak. He put on a boyish grin as he stepped into the room. "Lieutenant, if this is about that guy I was interrogating, he had that cut on his lip before I got in there. Don?t let him tell you different."
Welsh rolled his eyes. "This is Detective Brooks, Vecchio."
Ray turned and held out a hand. "Detective?"
"Yes. They let us solve crimes now," she said sarcastically.
Ray?s hand dropped and he furrowed his brow. "Uh, nice to meet you," he began, then added under his breath, "I suppose." Ray crossed to the couch and flopped into it. "Want me to show her the ropes or something?"
Welsh feigned a smile and folded his hands. "Not exactly," he replied.
Ray straightened in interest.
"Brooks will be your new partner," Welsh added after a moment silence.
Jumping to his feet again, Ray approached the desk. "Partner? I don?t need a partner. I got Fraser."
"Fraser is not actually a member of this department which means, technically, you do not have a partner. She was assigned here by the folks upstairs. You?re the only detective in my division without a partner so you get her."
She broke in, a little offended. "Excuse me, sir, but it?s not like he?s stuck with some rookie, ya know. I?m very experienced. I would prefer to think of me being stuck with him."
"I can?t believe this. What kind of crap are you pulling on me?" Ray asked, gesturing with both hands. "Me and Fraser been working together for months, not to mention," he stopped himself and glanced at her, then looked very seriously into Welsh?s eyes. "Not to mention the other thing."
"Sorry, Detective Brooks, you?re quite right," Welsh said, bypassing Ray?s comments. "It appears I need a few moments with Detective Vecchio to baby his ego. Would you excuse us?"
"Yeah, go stand next to the red guy." Ray pointed two fingers through the window. "We?ll have this straightened out real quick-like."
Brooks looked exasperated as she picked up the motorcycle helmet that had been sitting on Welsh?s desk. She threw it casually under her arm and opened the door. Ray closed the door behind her and turned back to Welsh. "Ok. I get the part where they make you take this chick for? whatever reason. She may very well be a good cop, but why do I have to baby-sit the newbie?"
"What?s so confusing, Detective? I told you she is your partner. That?s it. Take good care of her."
"But I?m fine without a partner."
"Yes, you are. It doesn?t change the fact that she?s here, though, does it? Look, truth is, Captain Walsh at the 8th asked me for a favour. I owe the guy. I?ve seen her records. She gets the job done, but she needs a little time with someone who?ll keep an eye out for her."
Ray threw his head back and grunted. "See? I?m a babysitter."
"That?s not what I mean by keeping an eye out for her," Welsh said firmly.
Ray looked back to Welsh, intrigued. "Oh?"
"You?re just going to make sure everything goes the way things are supposed to go, got it? Like I said, she?s good at the job so you just work and let her be a partner and that?s the end of it."
"The real Ray never had a partner," Ray groaned.
Welsh slapped his palm on the table in exasperation. "I am fully aware of you?re capabilities, Detective, but I?m not going to let you change my mind on this one."
"Does she know about the real Ray stuff?"
"No she doesn?t and we aren?t going to tell her."
"What happens if..."
"We?ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now get out there and do some detective work with your new partner, Vecchio. Huey and Dewey are staking out an apartment. Francesca has the information you need to take over for them. Get out of my office."
Ray grunted. "This sucks." He opened the door.
Welsh watched from his office as Ray walked to his desk, rubbing his forehead between his thumb and fingers. "Well, Detective Brooks, I guess we?re partners. Get me a cup of coffee."
She folded her arms in front of herself. "Oh, excuse me. Are your arms painted on? If you want coffee, get it yourself."
Fraser controlled a smile. Ray noticed. "What?d you come here for, Fraser?"
"Ah, I was given the rest of the day off from the Consulate so I wondered if I could be of any assistance to you."
"Oh, I guess. We have to go take over a stakeout for the Duck Boys." Ray looked up. "Frannie! Do you have the stuff Welsh asked for?"
"Yes, Ray, I?m not completely incompetent. It?s on your desk." She began walking toward his desk as he looked down.
"Where? I can?t see it."
She picked up a file and pulled out a cream coloured folder. "It was on your desk before you put that file on it. Pick something up to look around once in a while."
Ray squinted. "Look, Frannie, I?" he pointed a finger at her as she walked away. She waved with her hand and Ray knew there was no point in continuing.
Ray opened the folder and began to pull faces. "Ok, let?s blow this place."
"What?s going on?" Brooks asked.
"Nothin?"
"Look, buddy, I?"
"All right, all right. Don?t get worked up. Here." He handed her the file and she read as she followed Ray and Fraser out of the squad room. Diefenbaker was close behind.
Brooks didn?t even look up as she motioned to Fraser. "And this gentleman is involved??"
"Oh, excuse me. My name is Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and for reasons that don?t really need exploring, I remained attached as a liaison to the Canadian Consulate."
"Fraser helps out on cases involving Canadians, or wherever else he feels like sticking his nose in."
"Ah," Brooks commented and continued reading as they passed through the doors to the parking lot. Finishing the file, she handed it back to Ray. "I?m heading home first, pick me up there. I need to pick up a few things before we go." Throwing the helmet on her head, she aimed herself directly toward a black motorcycle in the lot.
"Huh?" Ray asked, confused.
"I thought for sure I?d end up on desk duty. I?m not exactly prepared. I just need to go home and change and grab a couple things, ok?"
"Fine, whatever," Ray replied with a wave. "Address?"
"One ninety eight Poppy apartment eight b."
"All right, we?ll see you there," Ray breathed.
Hopping onto the bullet bike she headed out before Fraser and Ray were even in the car. Ray frowned and glanced at Fraser. "Looks like a challenge."
Fraser looked confused until Ray threw the car into reverse and slammed the accelerator, then the brake while whipping the wheel the appropriate direction. Fraser held tight to the dashboard as Ray moved the gear into drive and slammed the accelerator again.
***
Pulling her hair back into a braid, Brooks heard a knock at the door. Taking the elastic from her mouth, she held it in her fingers as she continued.
"Ray?"
"Yeah!"
"It?s unlocked." She went into the bedroom and closed the door almost completely so they could still talk. She heard the door open and footsteps.
"Are you sure leaving your door unlocked is such a great idea?" Ray asked
"Probably not, but?" she let the sentence trail off. "Fraser there too?"
"Yes." Ray replied.
"Ok. You two make yourselves comfortable."
Fraser stood against the wall next to her couch and held his hat in the crook of his arm. Ray started looking around the apartment. He looked up and saw her whiz past the door, then he went back to looking his inventory. Noticing a large collection of CD?s next to a large stereo, he observed that she had many things in her collection that were the same as in his own, plus several he would never have dreamed of owning. He noticed she had a wide variety of tastes and began to walk around the room.
Stopping at the far wall, he furrowed his brow. There, hanging on it was a standard bullet proof vest which had been shot at in three places. "What?s this?"
"I can?t see," Brooks said, amused. "What?"
"The vest?"
There was silence for several minutes before she answered. "Oh, that. Uh, nothing." She came out in long pants and a shirt that came just to her waist so that, when she stretched out to pick up her bag, her midriff was bare. Ray turned just in time to notice a tattoo. It was of a sun with long wobbly rays around her navel which had a ring. She opened the bag and began throwing things inside. He also noticed another tattoo. It was on her arm and portrayed a fairy with butterfly wings stabbing a small blue dragon.
"So, how many tattoos to you have?"
She looked up with an unanswering smile and he noticed that the purple streak was more noticeable in the twists of hair. "So, explain the vest?"
She kept the smile and glanced at the door. "I?m ready. The rest of the equipment in the car?"
"Actually, Huey and Dewey already have things set up, but we?re ready."
She picked up the bag and swung it over her shoulder. "Let?s go then."
***
The three of them grabbed their things from the trunk of Ray?s car and headed up to the apartment. Huey and Dewey were playing cards when they entered. "Oh good. We?re outta here." Huey said. "Nothing?s new yet. He hasn?t been home since we got here."
Dewey stopped and eyed Brooks. "Who?s this?"
Huey chuckled. "Ray?s new partner."
"You knew?" Ray asked and only received more interference from Dewey.
"New partner?" he asked with a chuckle. "What?d you do wrong to get left with a new partner?"
"Excuse me?" Brooks asked.
"I dunno," Ray interjected. "What?d Huey do to get stuck with you? Must?ve been pretty bad."
Dewey looked unamused. "Very funny." Huey could see the tension and grabbed his partner, taking him through the door before more could be said.
"See ya," Ray replied, waving an irritated hand behind them as they left. "Ugh. It?s going to be a long night, I?ll bet."
Brooks took a seat near the window and looked out. "It?s that one, right?"
"Yeah," Ray replied as he sat at the table with Fraser. "So, what do you say? Ready for pizza?"
"Could you get me something with pineapple?" Brooks asked as she leaned into the scope to get a look at the room they were observing.
Ray smiled and pulled out his phone.
***
Several hours later they were still watching an empty room. There was an empty pizza box and two half eaten containers of Chinese food on the small table next to the bed. Ray rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "I don?t think this guy?s coming back. It?s almost morning."
"Calm down, Ray. This is where Welsh told us to be so let?s just give it some time." Brooks turned and saw Fraser had leaned back on the bed and fallen asleep.
Ray looked away and silence fell again until curiosity got the better of him. "So what was with the bullet proof vest?"
Brooks looked away. "Nothing."
"Come on. I know you want to tell me. You have the thing on your wall like some shrine or something. I know there?s a story."
"I really don?t want to talk about it." She straightened in her seat and stretched, again revealing her midriff. "Hey, ever been married?"
"I don?t want to talk about it." He sighed and looked away.
Silence fell.
"Her name was Stella. I really loved her. Still do. She?s amazing." He paused and saw her watching him, intrigued. "I wanted to have kids, she didn?t." He saw her nod, understanding. "Anyway, it?s not that interesting."
She nodded again and silence filled the room.
"So what brought you to us?" Ray finally asked.
"Uh," she let out a long breath. "I just didn?t want to be where I was. I needed to get away."
"That simple?"
She let silence build once again, then took another deep breath. "Yeah, that simple."
"Really? Because I could have sworn Welsh let it slip that you did something."
"What?" she asked, horrified.
"Ok, maybe he didn?t, but no one transfers to the 27th from the 8th for the hell of it."
"I did."
"Why?"
"For the hell of it." She looked at him, then turned back to the window. She could feel his eyes boring into her and she hated it. Finally letting out a breath, she glanced at her feet. "I killed a guy."
"You killed a guy?" Ray was floored. He took his chair close to Brooks so their knees were near each other and leaned toward her.
She cleared her throat. "He drew a weapon and I fired at him. I was only planning to wound him, but?"
"Did he fire at you?"
She nodded. "I, uh, I got hit in the shoulder with his fourth shot just as I fired my shot, that?s why I missed and killed him. He hit me three times in the chest before I even fired. If it wasn?t for that vest?"
"Ah, so that?s the story. But shouldn?t the vest have been kept in evidence or something?"
"Well, yeah, but once we had firm proof from the ballistics with the tape to determine that his shots were fired before mine and it was justified, I stole it from evidence lockup."
"How did you??"
"I sneaked in, put it on, and walked out. Look, I?m not very happy about it now, but that vest reminds me every minute that I almost died. There wasn?t even a good reason to put it on that day. I just had a feeling and... I don?t want to talk about it."
"A feeling?"
She looked away. "So let me get this straight. This Bob fellow is suspected of murdering his wife. If we see him, he?s under arrest, right?"
"Yeah, but it would sure help if we found more evidence. We can?t search the hotel room until we?re sure that?s the one Bob is staying in. He?s been very hard to find since his wife was killed."
"So we?re actually only taking him in for questioning?"
"Basically."
She nodded and looked though the binoculars. "I think there is something fishy here."
Ray put on his glasses and looked through the telescope. "What?s fishy?"
"See the box on the nightstand?"
"Yeah, it?s a very plain box."
"There?s something about it."
"Huh?" Ray regarded her like a rookie and glanced behind him. Fraser was awake now, though now he was looking out the window in deep concentration on a subject obviously different from the one they were dealing with.
"It?s a feeling. Something in that box?" Brooks peered through the scope and examined the details of the box.
Ray nodded. "Well, it looks very plain to me."
"Look around the room, Ray. He?s living out of a suitcase. See over by the wall? I?d bet that little leather bag is for his razor and toothbrush and stuff, but even it is being kept on top of the suitcase. The only thing that is out is that box."
"So what? It?s just a box."
"Your wife just got murdered and you haven?t been home since. You left a note that said you were leaving her." She went over the details out loud for her own clarity. "You pack a few clothes and things and set up at a hotel. You keep your stuff close to the suitcase in case you have to make a quick getaway. Either that or you?re a clean freak. You leave a box on the nightstand, taking a chance it may be forgotten. Why?" She bit her lower lip in concentration.
"I don?t have time for these games."
"Do you keep a box on your nightstand?" she asked.
"There?s probably one under the other stuff on my nightstand."
Brooks let out a breath. "Ok, just go with me on this one. If you had something important in a box, there wouldn?t be much danger of forgetting it, right?"
"Then he?d leave it in the suitcase."
"Unless it?s something he has to get rid of. Something that requires phone calls, something?" She picked up the report and read over it. "The killer has her wedding band and stole some jewelry, but not the valuable stuff." She looked through the scope. "The stolen jewels are in there."
"That?s crazy," Ray scoffed.
"Actually it isn?t, Ray," Fraser broke in finally. "Putting something valuable in a plain box would seem a good way to keep the items safe without drawing attention. Perhaps he is planning to pawn the jewels, as a thief would do."
"And then get the hell out of Dodge," Brooks completed.
Ray smiled at them. "You?re both crazy."
"What do your instincts tell you, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"Uh?"
"It?s perfectly logical. The guy?s not that smart to begin with. It makes sense," Brooks added.
"So how do we prove it?" Ray leaned back in his seat.
"Well, I guess we wait. I mean, we gotta know the guy?s staying here before we can really speculate anything."
"Ok, maybe that?s my point. We don?t know anything to make assumptions," Ray stated.
Brooks tipped her head and glanced at Fraser. "We should keep our minds open, but not at the risk of missing something obvious."
Fraser nodded. "Correct. We?re not making hasty decisions, we?re just working with a hypothesis."
Ray shook his head. "You two are crazy. It?s crazy."
"Maybe," Brooks replied under her breath. "I need to make a phone call." She stood and picked up Ray?s phone from the table. "You mind?"
Ray waved his hand and shook his head, then watched her walk into the hallway. He turned, then, to Fraser and offered him Brooks? seat. Fraser took it and Ray realized how close he had been to her, now taking a moment to move his seat back, but still keep close enough for confidence. "You know about this, Fraze?"
"Know about what?" Fraser asked.
"Her. My partner. You said back at the precinct that Welsh wanted to discuss it with me. You knew? Jack knew, but Dewey didn?t."
"I never engage in gossip," Fraser replied.
Ray looked confused. "What does gossip? Oh," he said with realization. "It was gossip that you heard without meaning to hear it?"
"Not exactly. I?d been waiting for you for several minutes when Francesca mentioned Detective Brooks transfer papers to me. She had apparently mentioned it to Detective Huey before he left because he had asked her whose partner she would be. Francesca asked me who she thought Leftenant Welsh would pair her with or would he let her work alone. I chose not to speculate, but the Leftenant told Francesca in my presence to make the arrangements for her to be your partner."
"So passing it on would have been gossip. Right," Ray confirmed, then let out a sigh. "What do you think of her?"
Fraser looked pensive. "She seems nice. Competent. Professional."
"Sure, but what do you think of her?" he asked again, this time adding an eyebrow trick and a suggestive grin.
Fraser cocked his head and Ray shook his own. "Never mind."
Brooks re-entered the room and handed the phone to Ray.
"Who?d you call?" he asked immediately.
Pausing a moment, Brooks decided to share. "Francesca is running some numbers on the value of the stolen jewelry."
"Why?"
"So we?ll know whether to ask around at a pawn shop or a money launderer?" she stated in the form of a question. "It?ll just give us a head start if this guy tries to sell the stuff." Detective Brooks picked up a soda can and took a sip.
Ray nodded. It made sense and had been a good move, though he chose not to tell her that. Glancing at his watch, he stood and stretched his arms. "Only 10 minutes to go before someone will be here to relieve us, right?" he said, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "Nothing?s going to happen tonight at least."
Brooks set the can down and moved quickly to the scope. "Try again," she said.
Ray turned to the window and Fraser joined in peering out. A light flicked on in the room across the street. The husband sauntered in looking little like the photo in the file. Instead of a clean cut smile, he had a two day growth on his beard, bags under his eyes, and wore a wrinkled tee with very wrinkled dress pants. He walked straight to his suitcase and took the small leather bag, then went into the bathroom.
Five minutes later, he came out. With the door to the bathroom left open, they could see he had left toothpaste, a toothbrush, and a comb beside the sink. He took the now empty bag and walked over to the table. His back faced the window as he picked up the box. They watched silently as his shoulders moved around. His arms were moving back and forth, but they couldn?t tell what he was holding. Finally he set the box back on the table and went back into the bathroom. Taking a moment to contemplate, he finally wiped a backhand across the counter, pushing the items into the garbage. He came out, put on his jacket, and slid the leather case inside before leaving the room.
Ray ran out first, Brooks close behind. Soon Fraser and Diefenbaker had passed Brooks and Ray. They stopped as they saw Bob exit the hotel.
"Now what?" Ray asked. "Should we follow him?"
Bob reached into his jacket and Brooks stiffened. "No time," she said just as she darted from the group, running as hard as she could into Bob. In one move, she fell to the ground and pulled out her gun as Bob smacked against the cement, sending the bag flying from his hand as he was taking it from his jacket. As if in slow motion, the bag fell next to the curb. It opened as it hit the ground and the jewels flew everywhere.
Ray cuffed Bob as Brooks recited his rights. Fraser collected the jewels -- including a small, gold wedding band -- and put it all back in the bag.
***
Brooks and Ray glanced at each other occasionally as they typed their accounts of the arrest. It was an unspoken race between the two and Brooks won. She had typing skills, though minimal, which already gave her the advantage over Ray and as she headed to Welsh?s office, printout in hand, Ray stopped in midsentence, typed THE END, and pounded the keys. Finally he looked to Frannie who came to the rescue, printing it in seconds.
When he entered Welsh?s office, Brooks was already seated in front of his desk bowing her head. Welsh looked a bit disturbed and set her report on the desk before looking up at Ray. Handing the paper to Welsh, who skimmed it, Ray then stepped back beside Brooks.
"It?s not even finished," he said.
"Who cares. You?ll sign it and slip it in that little file cabinet and no one?ll ever see it again anyway."
Welsh pursed his lips, signed the paper, and set it aside. "An interesting tactic, Detective," Welsh said in a serious tone to Brooks. "But I don?t want to see that kind of thing come through here again. We?re not vigilantes, we?re police officers."
"Yes sir," she replied.
"Ready to go?" Ray asked.
Brooks leaned back and looked up at Ray with a furrowed brow. "What?"
"Go? Home? End of work day, whistle?s blowing. Come on," Ray replied.
"Uh, oh yeah, you drove me," she said, realization finally hitting her. "I guess now?s as good a time as any."
"Before you go, stop in on the interrogation and give this to Huey," Welsh said, handing over a file.
"Sure," Ray responded, reaching for the folder. He tucked it under his arm and opened the door, letting it close on Brooks.
"Thanks, Ray," she groaned under her breath as she opened the door to follow him.
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
Ray motioned to Fraser who was now sitting beside his desk.. "C?mon, Fraser. Let?s get you back to the Consulate." Picking up Fraser?s hat without slowing down, he kept walking.
"Oh, thank you kindly," he replied, moving to his feet.
As they walked toward the interrogation room, Brooks began to make conversation. "So, you?re a Mountie? Where?s your horse?"
"In Canada, ma?am."
"Well, that isn?t very handy, is it?" she said with a grin.
"Not particularly, no."
Ray stopped in front of the door and carefully opened it. "?ere, guys. Welsh told me to bring this to ya."
"Thanks, Ray."
He popped back out and found he had missed part of the conversation.
"?well, there is an interesting anecdote about that, actually. You see, the Inuit believe?"
Ray looked back and forth between them. "What is this, what are you guys doing?"
"We?re getting to know each other, Ray. Take a chill pill."
"Hey, don?t say chill pill to me. I?m the one who decides who needs a chill pill." He turned away. "You need a chill pill," he finished under his breath.
Brooks rolled her eyes and continued walking out of the squad room. "What?s the matter, Prince Valiant, jealous?"
Ray looked at Fraser and gave his signature grunt. "She?s already under my skin Fraser. Better make sure I don?t shoot her."
They got out to the car and Brooks took the passenger seat. "Boy, you?re just a big baby, aren?t you?"
There was only an instant of silence. "Who, me?"
"Yes. You?ve had a chip on your shoulder since I got here, haven?t you? Is this all because I?m a woman?"
"Pft, huh, pft, of course not."
"Then what?
Ray mumbled to himself and started the car. Other than the engine, there was no sound. Finally Diefenbaker whimpered and Fraser leaned over.
"Yes, it is an uncomfortable silence, but I don?t believe it is something we should interrupt." Diefenbaker whimpered again and laid down.
"It?s a beautiful wolf, Constable," Brooks commented.
"Call me Fraser. Yes he is."
"It?s a wolf, Brooks, a wolf. They aren?t beautiful or not, they?re wolves. They eat people." Ray leaned his elbow out the window.
"Now, Ray, you know perfectly well they don?t eat people." Diefenbaker lifted his head again, then went back to sleep after Fraser spoke.
"Ray, you?re being a moron," she accused. "I just wanted to break the silence."
"Well, I don?t want to hear any more from you." Ray waved his hand and put it back on the steering wheel.
"You know, Ray, this reminds me of when I was in the far north and?"
"If this story has a bear or an otter in it, stop talking."
Fraser opened his mouth, then quickly closed it again.
"Anybody else want to eat?"
Fraser offered a quick, "Yes, please."
Brooks shrugged. "Don?t care."
Ray grunted and turned into the parking lot of the nearest restaurant. Without asking preferences, Ray slid into a booth and Fraser waited until Brooks took the opposite side before scooting in beside Ray. Picking up the menu, Brooks began to browse. Ray tapped his fingers impatiently.
"Problem?" Brooks asked without looking up, obviously perturbed.
"Hurry."
"Don?t rush me."
"Hurry," Ray said with more agitation.
"Look, I?ve never eaten here."
"Well, I know what I want, why don?t we just order three?"
"No." Brooks looked up from her menu.
"Why not? They?re all basically the same; beef, lettuce, and a bun with a side of fries."
"I want to pick something myself. I am an adult. I can order, you know."
"Whatever. You know what you want, Fraser?"
"Yes, I believe so," Fraser said quickly, feeling as though he?d be left behind in conversation if he didn?t reply quickly enough.
"Ma?am!" Ray called.
"That is so rude. You know I?m not ready," Brooks gazed at him, piercing through his tough exterior.
The waitress approached. "I want a burger. Nuthin? fancy," Ray said quickly, ignoring the fact that her look was disturbing his concentration.
"Ray," Brooks continued. "You are such a child. Can?t you wait a minute?"
"Order, Fraze."
"Well I?m not sure Detective Books is?"
"Fraser, order."
"?ready to?"
"Fraser, what are you getting?"
"?It isn?t polite to?"
"Well, then, tell me what you want."
"I was planning to order the special, but I?d prefer to wait until?"
"He?ll have the special and if she doesn?t order now, she?s not eating."
"Hello! What am I? Eight? Don?t talk about me like I?m not here! You are walking a thin line with me, buddy. You better watch to make sure I don?t poison your food." She turned to the waitress. "First off, could you spit on his burger? I?ll have the chef salad, but no red onions or radishes. Could you bring the dressing on the side?"
"Certainly." The waitress smiled, scribbled, and walked away.
Brooks glared at Ray. "Happy?"
"Extremely."
"Dopey," she said under her breath.
"What? Did you call me a dope?"
"No. I said dopey. I?m just naming dwarves."
Ray grunted.
"Forgive me, Constable, but I?m terrible with names. Was it Benjamin Fraser?"
"Benton."
"Isn?t that a last name?" she said as more of a statement than a question.
"It?s my first name."
"Hmm. Sounds like a last name."
"And what is your first name, Detective Brooks," Fraser asked as he brought a glass of water to his mouth.
"Tori."
"Tori? What a silly name," Ray added, waiting for her too argue.
"It?s short for Victoria."
Fraser coughed and spit out some water, then grabbed a napkin and quickly dabbed around the table. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "Pardon me, I?m terribly sorry."
"It?s ok," Brooks replied as she dabbed some water from her face.
Fraser blushed a little and Ray laughed hysterically. He collected himself just enough to say, "I?m sorry, Fraze, but I?ve never seen anything so funny. You?ve never done anything like that before." He snickered and continued. "What was that all about?"
Fraser stood. "Excuse me, I have to go ? this way ? for a moment."
Ray continued to laugh, tapering off slowly. Brooks cleaned up the table and finished by straightening the salt and pepper shakers, then centering the napkin holder. Ray watched with interest. "A little anal?"
Brooks ignored him and began to read the ads posted on the windows by their table.
Fraser returned behind the waitress carrying the food. Following that, most of the meal was eaten with either silence or conversation through gritted teeth. Everyone concentrated on their food and they left quickly after eating. Ray left the restaurant and looked at Diefenbaker who was eyeing another dog on a leash. Fraser held the door for Brooks.
Ray leaned against the car, waiting for Brooks and Fraser to catch up. "C?mon you guys."
"What?s the rush?" Brooks said in a nasty tone.
"I?m just tired of waiting around for you. If you had your way, we?d be here all day."
"Why don?t you just shut up?"
Fraser opened the car door for Diefenbaker.
"Because this is more fun," Ray continued.
"You are such a pain," Brooks replied, waving her hand.
Ray grabbed her hand in the air. "Hey, don?t dismiss me like that. You have problems."
"I?m hardly the one with problems." She pulled her hand away and held the door while Fraser climbed in. Once he was safely inside, Ray pushed the door closed.
"Why don?t you take a flying leap?"
"What?s wrong with you? Learned all your insults in kindergarten?" she continued.
"Boy, you are just nuts, aren?t you!" He stood a step closer to her.
"Would you please tell me exactly what your problem is?" she firmed her stance and moved a stiff forearm in front of her chest. "I mean, I really haven?t done anything?"
"Look," Ray continued as he crowded her against the car. "I didn?t ask for a partner and you?re some tough girl who?s not as tough as she thinks. You?re crazy to think I?m falling for the tomboy routine."
"You don?t know anything about me, alright?" She tried to back away, but was against the car door so she couldn?t go far. "Besides," she began more defensively. "What do you call that gutsy move of running down our last criminal?"
"I call it a fluke. Running him down was the chicken way out. Just look at you. You?re kind of wimpy looking." Fraser could see the argument was heating up so he tried unsuccessfully to climb over Dief and get out from the other side of the car.
Brooks grabbed Ray?s shirt firmly and flipped him against the hood of the car so his feet weren?t touching the ground. He held his hands back, open in surrender, with his usual grin. "Ok, ok, things are getting a little heated."
"Heated! You haven?t seen me pissed yet, bubba! How dare you insult my very being, my professionalism, how dare you spout things you know nothing about!"
"All right. Let me go."
"And another thing, buddy, I am a damn fine cop!"
"All right." He was beginning to shout. "I don?t want to hit you."
"Why, because I?m a woman?"
"Well?" he said, trying to break free, but having no success.
"Hit me! I can take you! I?m not a coward and I am not a wimp!" Brook yelled into his face.
"I don?t?" His face began to redden and he tried to push her back.
"Go on. Prove you?re a man! HIT ME!" Fraser finally scrambled through the drivers door of the car.
All at once Ray turned his hand into a fist and threw it full force against her face. She fell back to the ground and Fraser rushed around the front to help her up, but she was already on her feet. Ray stood, challenging her. She ran toward him, but Fraser grabbed her, turned, and stood between the two.
Brooks cradled her jaw and opened her door, throwing Ray a threatening glance.
Fraser wanted to calm things. "I believe that?"
"Shut up, Fraser," Ray and Brooks said in unison.
There was more silence as they pulled out onto the road.
Ray saw a stop sign. He wanted Brooks out of the car as fast as he could so he looked up and down the crossing streets. When he knew it was clear he decided not to slow down. Fraser couldn?t hold his tongue. "Stop sign, Ray."
"I thought you were going to stop talking."
"Yes, but I didn?t think that would still apply when you?re about to disrespect a law."
"All right. Where?s the stop sign?"
"You just passed it," Brooks interjected.
"Then why are you telling me? I can?t stop if I already passed the sign."
"Well, you hadn?t passed it when I first mentioned it," Fraser added.
Ray chuckled.
"What?s so funny? You broke a law," Brooks continued.
"Oh, c?mon. I?m just having a little fun with the Mountie."
"I should arrest you," she said.
Ray scoffed. "It?s just a stop sign."
"But that was no reason to disobey the law or talk to Fraser like that."
"I?m sorry. See that stop sign? I promise to come to a complete stop and?"
"It doesn?t change the fact that you treated Fraser, your friend, in such a nasty way."
"It?s all right," Fraser said from the back seat.
"No it?s not. He ought to apologize."
"Well, I suppose that would be the chivalrous thing to do in this situation," Fraser said.
"Chivalrous? What is that? What is that language you use?" Ray smacked the steering wheel for emphasis.
"Why, it?s English, Ray. It means noble ? or courteous," Fraser explained.
"If I promise not to spread my negativity will you two stop talking?" Ray said, holding his head.
Fraser nodded. Diefenbaker whimpered and closed his eyes. Finally they pulled up in front of the Consulate.
"I guess I?ll catch you tomorrow," Ray said.
"Yes," Fraser replied. "Perhaps later today, but it appears I?m late for a meeting with some Canadian officials." Fraser stepper out. "I see they?ve already arrived. She?ll have my head."
"Ice Queen?" Ray asked
"Inspector Thatcher, yes," Benton replied.
Ray rolled his eyes. "Good luck, Fraser."
Diefenbaker whimpered, then led the way inside.
"Why do you call her an Ice Queen?"
"Oh, uh, Inspector Thatcher? She?s his boss lady."
"Oh, and call her icy because she?s his boss?"
"No, she?s Ice Queen because she?s cold hearted."
Brooks looked away. "Oh, that makes sense. You know her then?"
"Well enough."
"Well enough to call her names, but not well enough to simply say yes, you know her."
Ray let the silence build, not wanting to deal with her editorial. Finally he felt he?d thought of something clever so he spoke. "So, am I dropping you off at the psychiatric ward?"
Brooks curled the right side of her lip into a smile, but just the one side so Ray couldn?t see. "That?s it buddy. I heard a rumor at the station that you box. Tomorrow morning, one hour before work, you and me."
Ray chuckled. "You?re on."
"Grand."
He stopped in front of her building. "Guess if I?m gonna be chivalrous I should walk you to your door."
"That?s not necessary."
"Mind if I do it anyway?"
Brooks opened her door. "You?re a free agent."
They took the elevator in silence, walked down the hall in silence, and stood in front of her door in silence. Finally she pulled out her keys. "You can go now."
"Oh, yeah, all right," he said and took a step back.
"Why'd you come up anyway?" she asked, stopping him in his tracks.
He thought a minute before turning to face her. "Dunno. Just seemed the thing to do." He paused. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said and started walking again.
"Yeah," she said under her breath.
Ray heard the keys jingle against the door and turned again. "You know," Brooks stopped and turned to him, waiting. "It?s just that we?re going to be working together. I thought maybe we could come to some sort of truce."
"Inside my apartment?"
"Well, no. I meant to say it in the car, but I just kept stalling." He took a few steps toward her. "I?m not happy about getting a partner. It?s not personal."
"It sure feels personal."
Ray shrugged. "I guess."
Brooks shook her head. "You know what?"
"What?"
"Good night, Ray. I?ll try to be a little more personable tomorrow."
Ray smiled a little. "Ok. That?s all I can ask."
She waited for more, but he nearly turned to walk away. "You?ll try too," she commanded.
Ray cleared his throat. "Sure," he said, then started walking back to the elevator.
Brooks turned the key, opened her door, and flipped on the light. Ray was halfway down the hall when he heard, "Oh my god!" He stopped and turned back to see her silhouette frozen just inside the door. "Ray!"
Chapter 2
Fraser hung up the phone and looked at Inspector Thatcher.
"I trust it was important if I received a call from Detective? what was his name?? in the middle of a meeting."
"Yes ma?am. Detective Vecchio needs? assistance? on an important matter? immediately." Fraser held his Stetson in his hands.
Thatcher searched his face, looking for a trace of insincerity. Finding none she sighed. "Very well Constable. Dismissed."
Fraser hurried away, leaving with proper respect for the others in the room.
***
As Fraser stepped through the door marked "STAIRS" he was greeted by the organized chaos of a crime scene. The hub of the confusion lay around the entry to Tori's apartment. "Stay," he said to Diefenbaker as he hurried down the hall. With a twinge of fear he hurried through the maze of officers and detectives questioning the tenants for possible leads. The words "Something happened. You?ve got to come to Brooks? apartment," rang through his mind. He had to dodge a cameraman and a forensics cart in the doorway before he could get a clear view of the room. He could remember with much detail what the apartment had been like when he and Ray had picked up Brooks before the stakeout the night before. As he scanned the room he realized not a single thing was out of place. There was, in fact, only one new thing in the room ? a dead woman. He could tell by the pallor of her skin and her transfixed stare that she was dead, but there was no obvious cause of death. All Fraser could think to say was "Oh dear." He looked up and saw Brooks standing with her arms folded talking to Huey and Dewey. Ray stood behind her, but just then, he looked up and saw Fraser. He made his way across the room.
"Hey Fraze. What a mess, eh?"
Fraser straightened his eyebrow with his thumbnail. "Yes. It appears to be. Who is she?"
"Dunno. Brooks doesn?t recognize her. They just finished the video and Davis took some extra photos? now they get to collect the evidence."
"How is Detective Brooks taking it?"
"Welsh gave the case to Jack and Dewey. She?s making sure it?s all done right. Won?t stay out of it."
"Did you need my assistance?"
"Nah. I just wanted you here in case we have to carry her outta here. She?s making Huey nuts."
The two of them made their way back to Brooks. By that time, Huey and Dewey were overseeing the team collecting evidence and Brooks had chosen one of the men in latex gloves carrying tweezers to follow.
"Look, there, a blonde hair. I don?t have blonde hair. Bag it and tag it," she said at the same moment the man noticed it and went after it with the tweezers.
"I got it, ma?am," he said in exasperation.
"Hey, don?t ma?am me, ok? I?m a Detective. I just want to make sure you get it all." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I?ll make myself useful." She turned and bumped into a taller figure. Tipping her head back slightly, she saw that it was Fraser. "Oh, sorry, Constable. I?m just going to get a pair of gloves."
Ray grabbed her arm. "It?s not your case, Brooks. You gotta let Jack and Dewey handle it."
She pulled away gently and ignored him. She was trying to get a pair of gloves from the box when Huey came up behind her. "I?m going to have to ask you to leave, Brooks."
She turned and started to put the gloves on. "I know what I?m doing."
"It?s not your case," Dewey added.
"I know what I?m doing," she said more firmly.
"Look, Brooks, get outta here." Huey grabbed her arm.
She pulled away and stepped back. "It?s under control, fellas, really, I?m just going to help."
"Don?t make us force you out," Huey continued.
She took another step back. "I got it, guys, I got it."
Ray moved past her and stepped up to Huey. "We?ll keep an eye on her ok? We?ll make sure she doesn?t mess anything."
Dewey straightened. "It?s not your case either, Ray."
"Come on, guys, cut her some slack. There?s a dead body in her apartment."
"Fine. Just make sure she stays out of the way until Welsh gets here," Huey advised.
"Welsh is coming?" Ray was a little surprised.
"Yeah, we called him. We figured with a dead body in one of our cops? apartments? well, who knows. I mean, we don?t really know anything about her," Dewey explained.
Ray took a defensive stance "She didn?t do this."
"I?m sure."
"Well, first of all, she?s been with me for the past twenty four hours on your stakeout and paperwork."
Dewey pointed at Ray. "You never know. I heard she shot a guy. Could be hiding behind her badge."
"Nothin? like jumpin? to a conclusion," Ray replied. "We picked her up here and she hasn?t been out of my sight since. Explain that."
Dewey shrugged. "An accomplice?"
"Look, Ray, we got a body in her apartment with no sign of forced entry." Huey counted two points on his fingers. "We also got a white powdery substance on the kitchen floor we haven?t checked out yet, but I?ll bet it?s drugs. We also have a cop who may have shot a guy ? rumor is it was unprovoked."
"I already know about that one. He shot at her first. Look, you guys stay outta my way and I?ll stay outta yours." With that, he hurried away, Fraser close behind. When they caught up with Brooks, she was examining the white powder on the floor in the kitchen. She touched the edge of the spot, sniffed, and tasted.
"Brooks!" Ray rolled his eyes. "Don?t go pullin? a Fraser on me, ok? Don?t lick stuff."
"It?s heroin, Ray." Brooks stood and turned to the window over the sink.
"So, drug involved murder, what a shocker. C?mon, Brooks, Fraser and I?ll take you to dinner."
"We ate less than 2 hours ago, Ray. Look." She pointed to the window.
"Yeah, he came in through there, or left. Something. We?ll show Huey and Dewey so they can have their forced entry."
"Nope. The window only opens about 6 inches and I know it was closed when I left. It?s something they need to know."
"Let?s go get some coffee and you can write it all down for them."
"Ray, I?m the only one who will know what?s out of place here and they want me to leave? Anything could happen."
Just then three men in forensics jackets entered the kitchen.
"C?mon." Ray signaled toward the front room. "Let?s go talk to Michaels. She?s on the body. Maybe she can shed some light."
Brooks followed Ray and Fraser back to the living room. They saw Michaels making some notes into a tape recorder as she zipped the bag over the woman?s face with her free hand. She looked up and saw Ray. "I?m not talking to you about it." She nodded at two men who lifted the body onto a gurney.
"Aw, c?mon. I didn?t even get a chance to ask," Ray returned quickly.
"Huey and Dewey informed me it?s not your case. Makes it not your business." She tucked a lock of her brown hair back into the bun she had tied loosely on the back of her neck.
"What if I promise you dinner?" Ray said softly and smiled boyishly.
She smiled back, a flash in her brown eyes. "Try getting it out of your buddy Mort." She signaled and two men wheeled the body away.
Brooks watched it go out the door, then was distracted by Welsh?s large figure hovering in the doorway.
He stepped in and surveyed the scene. "Vecchio!"
Ray looked past Michaels. "Uh oh."
Welsh pushed his way directly to Brooks. "What are you still doing here? Huey and Dewey told me you?re refusing to leave."
Brooks straightened. "I?m not exactly refusing. I?m just not finished here yet."
Welsh sneered at Ray. "And what about you? Why are you here? I want all of you out of here. Take the Mountie with you!"
Brooks stood defiantly. "I?m not leaving."
Welsh grabbed her hands and ripped off the latex gloves. "I said get out. You are contaminating a crime scene and you are still a suspect. I don?t care what kind of alibi you have. Now, get out before I make you regret it!"
For the first time, Ray felt a touch of something to fear from Welsh. He leaned toward Brooks. "Let?s go get some coffee, Brooks. I think you need a break."
She ignored Ray and turned away from Welsh. Welsh grabbed her arm and swung her toward him. Anger rose and seeped through her voice. "You are not my master. I still have free agency to make decisions on my own! Let go of me this instant or I?ll be the one making you regret it!"
Welsh leaned close and Ray strained to hear him speaking softly and calmly near Brooks? ear. "It?ll take me about one minute to make a phone call to your friends in internal affairs. Do I need to do that?" He straightened, let go of her arm, and turned to Ray. "Got your phone, Vecchio?"
"No, no, it?s all right." She cleared her throat and grunted. "I need a cup of coffee. Would you guys mind going with me?"
Ray furrowed his brow in question as Fraser put on his hat and led the way out of the apartment.
***
They sat in a quiet corner of the diner. Ray and Brooks ordered coffee, but Fraser asked for water. As the waitress walked away, Ray asked for a slice of cherry pie with whipped cream. It was very silent for several minutes. The waitress returned and poured the coffee.
Finally Brooks spoke. "There?s something strange about this whole thing."
Ray sighed. "Don?t think about it, Brooks. Huey and Dewey are good guys. They?ll figure it all out and clear you."
"It is strange, don?t you think, though? She was left in a cop?s apartment. Are they trying to frame me or was it just a coincidence?"
Ray put a little sugar in his coffee and took a sip.
"I think it was planned this way," she continued. "Whoever killed her had a key. They must have had a key to get in without a trace. Besides, neighbors notice things like guys with a body slung over their shoulders and a crowbar trying to open a door."
"I mean it, Brooks, don?t dwell on it. We don?t even know who the victim is. We can?t start without that."
"Maybe she?s an addict and her boyfriend dumped her so he wouldn?t get busted for her accidental overdose."
"Unlikely," Fraser cut in. "She did not have signs of a drug addiction."
"He?s right," Ray added. "No track marks."
"There is something very odd about?" she trailed off in deep thought.
Ray realized it was time to take her mind off the body back in her apartment. He searched for a subject that seemed trivial enough. "So, Victoria? What?s the story behind that name?"
Brooks poured one creamer packet into her coffee, then turned the sugar dispenser upside-down as she spoke. "It?s a tradition in my family. The first daughter of the first daughter is to be named after a queen or ruler." She returned the sugar to the table and began to stir. The coffee almost looked thick with sugar. She took a sip.
"Sweet enough?" Ray said sarcastically.
She nodded casually. "My mother?s name is Isabella and her mother was Elizabeth. I plan to name my daughter Alexandra ? as in Romanov."
Fraser stared at his water, unblinking.
Ray and Brooks noticed him at about the same time. Brooks spoke first. "What, Constable? No stories about a beaver named Vicki?"
Fraser snapped up and looked at them. "I, uh?" He took a deep breath. "I knew a Victoria once. She?" His mouth continued to open and close, but no sound came out.
"Wow, Fraze, first time I?ve ever seen you at a loss for words," Ray interjected.
Fraser frowned. "No, it just isn?t important."
"You sure?" Ray asked. "Sure seems important."
Fraser shook his head. "It isn?t important to the conversation."
"That never stopped you before," Ray teased.
Fraser tried to look amused, but couldn?t.
Ray saw that it was time to change the subject. "We?re still on for boxing tomorrow, right? I can?t wait to beat you down."
She scoffed. "Yes, Ray, we?re on. I can hardly wait to put you in your place."
***
Fraser walked into his office and heard a loud humming come from his closet. Setting his hat on his desk, he sighed and cocked his head at the door. Running his thumbnail along his eyebrow, he knew he had to be up early the next morning. He had promised to witness the boxing match and it had already been such a long day. Sighing again, audibly this time, Fraser opened the closet door. He stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind himself.
Robert Fraser was humming loudly as he listened to a record and scribbled at his desk. He looked up. "Hello there, son."
Fraser took a step forward. "What are you doing, Dad?"
"Writing. I?ve forgotten to write in my journals for, well, who knows how long."
Fraser rolled his eyes. "What could you be writing? You?re dead."
"I know that, son. Must you continually rub it in?"
"I?m tired, Dad. Can?t we get this over with?"
"What?s that, son?"
"There?s a new woman. It?s your turn to remind me you want a grandchild so I can say there?s nothing between us and you can pout."
"Nothing of the kind, son. Although?"
"Then why are you here?"
"I told you, I?m writing my journals."
Fraser stood confused for a moment. Finally Bob continued. "Maybe you needed to talk to me."
Fraser sat in the chair beside the fireplace. "Her name is Victoria."
"Oh god, not her again. I?ve told you son?"
"No, not her. Ray?s new partner. Her name is Victoria. The name makes me think of? of her, though."
"She was no good, son. No good at all."
"I know, Dad, but she gave me something I?d never had before. Something I?ll never have again." He began to look off into the distance.
"Are you sure of that, son?"
Fraser snapped out of the trancelike state and sat up.
Bob continued. "It didn?t work out with her because she didn?t understand you, but this girl does. She understands more than you know, son."
Fraser looked skeptical. "We?re nothing alike, Dad. Besides, she?s so emotional."
"The only emotion I see is anger, Benton. She?s more like you than you want to accept."
Fraser scoffed. "I have to be up early Dad."
"All right, Son, but remember a couple of things."
Fraser raised his eyebrows in anticipation.
"She figured out about the jewels by using logic, didn?t she?"
Benton nodded. "Anyone in this profession must use logic in order to form working hypotheses."
Robert nodded and folded his hands. "She seems a little out of her element here, though, doesn?t she? Perhaps a little lonely?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary that I noticed."
"You should ask her about that." Robert continued. "Maybe just a little like yourself."
Benton stood and left without another word.
***
Fraser stood back, holding his hat as he watched Ray bounce around in his corner of the ring.
Ray?s "CHAMPION" tattoo flexed as he saw Brooks come out of the locker room. She had on a short sleeved, midriff revealing shirt that gave him a better look at her pierced navel and tattoos. He also noticed as she put her leg through the ropes that her shorts revealed one more tattoo ? this time it was a swarm of butterflies in different colours, sizes, and positions. She stood tall in her corner and gritted her teeth.
"We don?t have much time, so let?s just fight until you give up," Ray taunted.
"You?ll be in a ball crying, hot shot."
"Fraser, would you be our bell?"
The fighting began and Ray was a little surprised when her first punch sent him against the ropes. She came up on him and started pounding before he had a chance to catch his breath. After he lost count of the punches, he tucked his head behind his gloves and pushed off the ropes. He got in several good punches, but as he reached out for a definitive punch, she ducked and got him square on the chin. His head went back and he reached out to catch his balance, at which point he felt several blows to his abdomen. He hit the mat and she stepped back. "Finished, big boy?"
He stood. "Just holding back," he replied, short on breath.
He unleashed himself and the fighting was a little more even. It ended when they were both exhausted and had called a truce. Brooks limped off to one locker room while Fraser followed Ray into the other. Ray changed with great difficulty.
"Do you feel better?" Fraser asked, finally.
"A little." He groaned as he pulled his shirt over his head. "I?m not some Neanderthal, y?know. I can handle a woman cop, but she is something else. I?ve never seen one that can box like that."
"You?ve never seen a woman box?"
"Well, ok, yeah I have, but that chick was psycho, and not too pretty."
"Ah, so Detective Brooks is different because she is attractive?"
"No, I mean yes. I mean, she is attractive," he smiled as he looked off in the distance, then looked back at Fraser, "but that isn?t what makes it different." He pulled on his pants with another grunt.
"Ah. Understood," was Fraser?s reply.
***
As they drove to the station, Brooks examined her jaw in the cosmetic mirror. A bruise had developed from the punch she?d taken from Ray the day before and there was a tell tale redness on her eye. She glanced over at Ray who was deep in concentration on the road and saw that not only did he have a split lip, his jaw was also red. ?Good. He?ll have a bruise too,? she thought. ?He deserves it, the little weasel.?
Ray?s phone rang and he pulled it out with one hand while turning a corner with the other. "Vecchio."
She could hear Welsh?s voice through the earpiece.
"Where the hell are you?! You and Brooks shoulda been here half an hour ago!"
"We?re on our way. We?ll be there in ten minutes."
"If you want to make me happy, you?ll be here half an hour ago?" With that, Ray hung up the phone and concentrated again on the road. The phone rang again and he ignored it for several rings. Finally the ringing stopped and he heard Francesca come in on his radio.
"You two better get in here fast. Welsh is fuming."
"Thanks, Frannie. You?re pretty good at that observation stuff," Ray replied.
"He wants to see Brooks in his office as soon as you guys get here."
Brooks sighed. "Thanks, Francesca."
They pulled into the parking lot and Brooks jumped out of the car as it pulled to a stop. Ray was close behind while Fraser and Diefenbaker took a moment to catch up.
Francesca looked up from her desk as they walked by. "Gee, what happened to you guys?"
"What?" Brooks asked.
"Ray?s cut lip, you?ve got a bruise on your face. You two luke it out?"
"Luke? Frannie it?s duke." Ray was perturbed.
"Luke, duke, fluke, whatever!"
Ray turned to Brooks. "Want me to join you in his office?"
"Naw. I guess I have to go in by myself and face up to it." She turned toward Welsh?s office, then paused. "When he?s really pissed like that, should I be afraid?"
Ray turned a moment and saw Welsh red-faced, yelling into the phone. "Uh, yeah."
She took a deep breath. "He wouldn?t kill me or anything, would he?"
"Naw," Ray replied. "He?ll just string you up for a couple hours."
Frannie watched the conversation with interest. "What?s going on?"
"Nothing, Frannie."
"C?mon, I?m interested." She turned to Fraser for answers and Ray repeated himself
"Nothing, Frannie."
"Is that all you have to say? Where?s the sarcasm?" she asked, finally letting it drop.
"I don?t have any right now. Maybe later." He headed toward his desk just as Welsh came out of his office.
"Vecchio! It looks like this better be with both of you."
Ray raised his eyebrows and followed Brooks into the office. Fraser and Dief followed also.
Welsh sat at his desk and looked up. When he saw Fraser had joined them, he grunted, but made no more mention of their presence.
"I?ve got a real mess here. IA is already involved. Sorry, Brooks. Looks like you are out of commission for a while."
"Pardon?!" Brooks stepped forward.
"I?m going to have to ask you to leave your shield when you leave my office. It already leaked out that you stuck around the crime scene. You are to have no further involvement."
She tossed her shield and reached for her gun.
"You can?t contact Ray either."
"Why would I want to?"
"Ray is still allowed access to the case. Where?d you stay last night?"
"A hotel, why?"
"No access to your apartment until this is cleared up. Better leave the hotel and room number with Miss Vecchio."
"What!? All my stuff is there, my clothes, my? my?"
"I know, but it?s not my discretion."
Brooks slammed her hand on the nearest object, a chair. "I can?t afford a hotel for who knows how long. The department going to pay for it?"
"Sorry, Detective," Welsh replied. "They?re checking out everything on you. I?m getting the distinct impression that Captain Walsh wasn?t straight with me about you."
Brooks looked fierce. "He was, I assure you. They?re not going to find anything you couldn?t find."
"You sure about that?" Ray asked. "IA can be pretty thorough."
Brooks turned the angered look on Ray. "Trust me. I know just how fucking thorough they can be."
Welsh?s phone began to ring. He glanced at it, then looked back to Ray. "Ray, you are personally responsible. The boys upstairs are making me make sure you keep your nose buried in another case."
Ray grunted.
"There is no mention of contact with the Mountie, though," Welsh said more softly.
Ray grinned boyishly. "So which case am I supposed to be buried in?"
"Frannie?s got the file."
"Well, I?m her ride so I guess she?ll be ok if she?s with me until I can take her to her hotel?" Ray asked.
Welsh thought a moment and shrugged. "Just don?t let the big guys see her."
They went out and asked Fran for the file Welsh had referred to. She handed it to Ray and leaned back in her chair. "So, you managed to come out alive, eh?" she asked Brooks.
Brooks glowered and nodded her head dismissively.
Fraser leaned over Ray?s shoulder to look at the file with him.
"What?s the case?" Brooks asked.
"Dead guy," Ray responded.
"What do we know? Did he have a record?" she continued.
"Petty theft. Nothing worth getting whacked."
"Hmmm," Fraser looked up and saw the two Detectives looking at him.
"What?s hmmm?" Ray asked.
"Nothing."
"Listen, Fraser, spit it out. Don?t go hmmming me and then say ?nothing?. You know that makes me crazy."
"Understood. I think we should start in the morgue."
"Ugh, not the morgue," Ray sighed. "I?m not going down there. There?re dead bodies down there."
"You?re kidding me, right?" Brooks said. "What the hell are you doing in this line of business if you can?t stand a body or two now and then?"
Ray pointed a finger. "Hey, I don?t have to like dead bodies. I?ve already seen one this week. Don?t harsh on me!" They locked in a stare momentarily and Ray continued. "Besides, it?s not the bodies so much as the morgue. Cold room just filled with them? The entire purpose of the place is about poking and prodding, ugh," he finished, adding a shudder before grunting and walking past her, following Fraser to the morgue.
As they neared the morgue they heard an opera rendition that ? wasn?t terrible.
"Good morning, Mort." Fraser spoke pleasantly. "Do you have anything for us yet?"
The man had a thick accent. "Some of the information is written down over there." Mort pointed to an empty gurney.
"Peculiar," Fraser said with his nose in the file.
"What?s peculiar, Fraser?" Ray made sure his eyes had no chance of wandering toward the body on the table in front of Mort by walking around the room, facing the wall at all times.
"Hmmm, bullet to the chest, huh? But what?s this?" Brooks said as she examined the chest of dead body.
"You are??" Mort asked, his accent was strong.
"Detective Brooks, Detective Vecchio?s new partner."
"Nice to meet you."
Brooks smiled. "You too. Do you know what it is?"
Mort leaned in. "It looks as though he was injected just before he died."
Fraser leaned in and smelled deeply.
"What do you smell?" Brooks asked.
"Salt?" Fraser replied, incredulously.
"Salt?" Brooks was equally confused.
"Salt?" Ray chimed in. "Someone injected salt in this guy?"
"Salt water," Mort replied. "It must be. Shall I test?"
"Yes, Mort. Can we go, Fraze? He?s going to test it."
Brooks walked around to Ray. "If your delicate senses can?t handle this then maybe you should go back to your cushy desk while I handle this."
"You can?t, remember? Get away from the body, girlie." Ray had already learned how to get on her nerves and grinned boyishly.
She snarled like an animal, causing Ray to looked confused, then she turned back to the body. She noticed Fraser looking at her and growled at him also. Fraser turned and picked up the shoe from the table where the man?s clothing was carefully folded. He sniffed the sole, then his tongue darted out in a quick taste. Brooks immediately grabbed the shoe. "What the hell was that?" she said disgusted, then smelled the sole herself and looked back at Fraser. "What did it taste like?" she asked with fascination.
"It tastes like the lake they call Michigan."
"Lake Michigan?" she asked as she examined the shoe with a careful gaze and a sniff.
"Yes, the lake they call Michigan," he confirmed.
She looked up. "Lake Michigan," she told him.
"Right, the lake?" he began again.
"Let him have it, Brooks," Ray said. "Trust me, it?s just easier."
She nodded. "Uh, so the shoe tasted like Lake? the lake?"
Fraser nodded.
"What?s that? What does that mean?" Ray accidentally turned, saw the body, and turned quickly back against a file cabinet.
Brooks rolled her eyes. "It means he was at the lake."
"Well, no kidding. He washed up on the shore or something, right?"
"Yes," Mort replied. "It?s fairly easy. Someone shot the man, then pushed him into the lake and he managed to wash ashore."
"But why the injection?" Ray asked.
"It is certainly a valid question, Ray," Fraser cocked his head. "Mort, would you see what you can deduce?"
"Certainly," Mort replied. "I?ve already removed the bullet. Ballistics should currently be locating the serial number of the gun from where it came," Brooks again noted the strong accent as he enunciated each word.
Fraser nodded. "Thank you, kindly, Mort. We will