by C Paradee
Smiling at the image, she replied, "Agent Viglioni, I am getting ready to go to lunch and will be tied up the rest of the day. How about tomorrow? I'm free at 3:30." The FBI had a reputation for coming in on a case, using the locals, and then taking all the credit for solving the case themselves. So she wasn't about to interrupt her schedule to accommodate the agent, especially since she hadn't even asked for time, but instead demanded it.
Tony was slightly taken aback. She couldn't believe the nerve of the woman she was talking to. She had a case to solve and no one wanted to give her the time of day. Thinking quickly, she lowered her voice half an octave and replied in her most compelling voice, "Dr. Donnovan, I really need to see you before tomorrow," she drawled, "I would be so grateful if you could find some time for me today."
Against her will, Megan was now thoroughly intrigued by the voice on the phone. Her inquisitive nature overcame her desire to make the FBI agent wait, but still wanting to control the situation, she replied, "I'm going to the Chef's Blend for lunch. I can meet you there in 15 minutes. Just tell the hostess you're meeting me. I'll do my best to answer your questions then. Otherwise, I'm sorry, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow."
Don't piss off the locals... don't piss of the locals... don't piss off the locals, Tony's mind chanted, remembering the words of her boss that morning and thinking just how much she'd like to throttle the pompous woman she talking to. She thought, focus, and felt the control beginning to slip back in place, just do whatever it takes. She replied, "I'll be there," hanging up the phone.
Megan stared at the phone in her hand thinking, that was abrupt, wondering if her curiosity about the woman behind the voice was wise. Snaring her purse on the way out the door, Megan left for lunch. She figured she would find out soon enough.
Tony sighed. She was not having a good day. Everyplace she turned, she hit resistance. She was used to getting her way and couldn't believe she had literally had to beg for a meeting with the... doctor, shutting the door on the more descriptive words that came to mind.
Now where is this Chef's Blend? What was that guy's name... John? Yeah that was it. Calling his name as she walked toward him, she said, "John, do you know where the Chef's Blend is?"
"Sure. It's over on Rockwell and E. 6th. When you leave here turn right and go up to Rockwell. Turn left. It's right at the corner of E 6th. Take ya 15 to 20 minutes depending on how fast you walk," he replied, wondering how she could possibly have a luncheon date already. She had just arrived in town yesterday. Talk about fast workers.
"Thanks. I was wondering if you could do me a favor?" she inquired innocently, flashing him a beguiling smile.
John said, "Sure," willing to do anything she asked.
Relaying her request, she thanked him again. Turning to leave the office she thought, if I'd have known I was going to have to go waltzing around downtown I sure wouldn't be wearing 3 inch heels. Quickly making her way to the restaurant, Tony told the hostess she was to meet Dr. Donnovan.
Megan was absently watching the door as she drank her iced tea. Several people had entered after her, but none had been directed her way. She noticed the hostess leading a tall striking woman down the aisle thinking, nah, couldn't be, and once again directed her eyes toward the door.
"Dr. Donnovan?"
Recognizing the voice, she drew her attention from the door, automatically answering, "It's Megan." Looking up, she found herself gazing into a pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The sight rendered her momentarily speechless. No, no, no, it can't be. FBI agents don't look like this, her mind told her as her eyes disagreed. Normally, gregarious by nature, it was disconcerting to her to find she had trouble finding her voice to say, "Please have a seat," a smile touching her lips. Megan's thoughts continued to run wild. She's... and for the first time in her life couldn't come up with a word to describe what she saw, finally settling on beautiful. As she tore her eyes away from the mesmerizing ones holding them, she finally broke the trance. Megan felt the quiet power that surrounded the woman. She didn't understand her body's strong reaction to this woman and figured it must be because of the disparity between the image she had created in her mind and the one standing before her.
Realizing the tall daunting woman was still standing, Megan knew she had one of three choices. She had been raised in a house where her father ruled by intimidation. She could be cowed or ignore it as she had when a child, or she could face it head on which she chose to do.
"Are you going to stand there and keep trying to intimidate me, or are you going to sit down?" she asked in a level voice, keeping a smile on her face to ease the impact of her words not really sure what to expect.
"Sorry," the word slipped out before Tony even realized she had spoken. Sitting down, she thought with amazement, I can't believe I'm apologizing to the same person I wanted to throttle less than an hour ago.
Actually, Tony hadn't been trying to intimidate Megan. Expecting to dislike the woman and be greeted with hostility she had found instead an open friendly face smiling up at her. She was so surprised that the vision in front of her could be the same woman she had spoken to on the phone, that her body had automatically taken over with the persona she was most comfortable with. Thoughts continued to run rampant through her mind, she looks so young... what a little wisp of a thing... what gorgeous eyes... she's so attractive... no beautiful... before she was drawn out of her reverie by Megan's voice.
Megan smiled as she said, "You aren't exactly what I pictured an FBI agent to look like."
Still somewhat off balance, a sarcastic comment flew to her lips but gazing at Megan's face and seeing only friendly curiosity she bit off the retort, and replied with a half smile, "And you don't exactly look like Quincy."
Megan laughed easing the tension.
"You know the cold lobster salad is really good," Megan offered while discreetly studying the woman across from her. Once she got over her initial reaction, her curiosity was sorely piqued. Goddess, she realized in a flash. A dark goddess, her mind added. That was the word she couldn't find when first confronted with the appearance of the agent.
Tony really hadn't intended to eat lunch. She merely agreed to the meeting to find out what she could about the Shadow case. But maybe eating lunch wasn't such a bad idea. The young woman seemed friendly enough and she clearly expected it.
"Sounds good," she replied to the suggestion.
After they placed their orders, Megan asked, "What exactly would you like to know?"
"Start with the crime scene. I've seen the photos but a first hand account would be much better," replied Tony, drawing her attention back to the reason she was here.
Megan's voice took on a clinical detached tone as she began her recital. "The body was laying lengthwise across the pier. At first glance it was obvious by the unnatural angle of the head that the neck was broken. The position of the legs and arms indicated that she was probably dead when she hit the ground. The clothes were also skewed in such a manner to support this. There was no indication of any struggle. I bagged the hands and checked to make sure that no one had moved the body and then began my examination. There was extensive bruising around the neck. Other than that there was just nothing else." The frustration obvious in her voice, she continued, "I did the autopsy yesterday. It confirmed my suspicion that the cause of death was strangulation. Similar to the other cases, the neck was a broken postmortem. I did send out a complete toxicology test including a GCMS." Megan then added for clarification, "It'll show any unusual chemical strands. The preliminary results should be back this afternoon. I really don't expect it to show anything, but I just don't know what else to do."
Studying the young woman across from her, Tony listened to her description and actions at the crime scene. Young or not, this woman was obviously very knowledgeable and committed to her work. She actually seemed upset at not finding anything. Tony found this unusual. Having dealt with her share of coroners, most did their job, turned over any evidence found to
the police, and moved on. She seemed to be blaming herself for not finding anything.
Always pragmatic, Tony knew that evidence was not always easy to come by. Feeling a pang of sympathy, she decided to try to ease the Doctor's burden. Although why she cared was not within her grasp at the moment.
"Megan, you can't find something that's not there."
"I know. It's just so frustrating. I wish there was something else I could do."
"You've done everything you can. Now it's my turn. That's why I'm here. I want this case solved just as much as you do. Tell me about the other four victims."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you too much. This case was just turned over to me yesterday. Dr. Whitehouse was handling it until this last victim. I know where the victims were found and I read the autopsy reports he posted. They were basically the same as the one I did."
Smiling ruefully to herself, Tony thought, so she got this case dumped on her too.
"And Dr. Whitehouse is?"
"The Coroner. I thought everyone knew that." Megan was puzzled by the agent's apparent lack of knowledge.
Ignoring the comment, Tony asked, "Isn't it a little unusual to have the Coroner hand off a high profile case like this right in the middle of it?"
"It is very unusual." Twirling the straw in her iced tea, she decided not to elaborate.
"Do you have any idea why he would do that?" Tony persisted.
Now how do I get out of this one. Do I lie and say no? Or do I tell this very imposing FBI agent that he doesn't like the FBI? Oh well... she'll just have to get over it. "I think he doesn't like working with the FBI very much," she said, waiting for the reaction she felt was sure to come.
To her surprise, the agent laughed. "That's certainly not a novel concept."
At that moment their food arrived and Tony decided to relent in her questioning until they ate. The Doctor was correct. The food was excellent.
Giving her mind a break from the murders, Megan found herself totally fascinated by the woman sitting across from her. She's so intense... she seems almost dangerous. I wonder why she became an FBI agent. Guess I'll have to ask if I want to know. She seems perfectly content to sit there and eat and not say a word.
"Uh, Tony?" she began, waiting until she had her attention, "Have you been an FBI agent long?"
"Almost 10 years," Tony replied, not liking the turn of the conversation.
When it was obvious she was not going to elaborate on the answer, Megan continued, "Did you always want to be an FBI agent?" She had no idea her casual question would evoke memories Tony hadn't allowed to surface for years.
"What is this, 20 questions?" Tony snapped, regretting the words the instant they were out of her mouth. Seeing a shadow flicker across the face in front of her, she realized it really bothered her that she was the cause of it. Forcing the memories the question had conjured up back into the recesses of her mind, Tony began silently berating herself, that was really smart. All you've done is bitch about everyone blowing you off and then when someone tries to be friendly, you bite her head off. Real bright move.
"Sorry," Megan quietly replied looking down at her food. Guess I should've minded my own business.
Oh God, now what do I do... It's not her fault. "Megan," Tony began, waiting for her eyes to come up and meet hers before continuing, "I'm the one who should be sorry. There was nothing wrong with your question. I just don't like to talk about myself."
"No, it's ok... ." Megan interrupted.
Tony held up her hand and said, "Please... let me finish. Your question deserves an answer. I've wanted to be an FBI agent since I was 17. So I went to college and as soon as I graduated, I was accepted into the academy," she said, hoping vehemently that the young woman would leave it at that because she couldn't tell her anything more and didn't want to hurt her feelings again.
Turning the conversation away from herself, "What about you? Did you always want to be a forensic pathologist?"
Megan realized the agent was more a mystery than ever. She obviously was not a talker. But she was making an attempt, and her apology seemed sincere. She knew she had just received a peace offer. She also instinctively knew the agent didn't make many. So despite the earlier rebuff, she gave into her intuition about the woman sitting across from her as it dictated that she accept the offer.
"Actually, no." Megan paused at this point unconsciously making a decision, and continued, "I wanted to be a writer when I was a child. But things change." Not aware of the slight hardening of her voice at the last comment. "I decided I wanted to be a doctor in high school. Medicine seemed like a good way to help people. Then in my last year of medical school one of my classmates was brutally murdered. It was senseless. She didn't deserve to die. At that time I made the decision to devote my life to helping find the perpetrators of violent crime by finding evidence to link them to the victims. I knew I could do that in forensic pathology. So here I am."
Listening to Megan, she sensed an inner strength belying her appearance. She had not missed the subtle change of tone during the recitation and wondered what could have happened to make a potential writer turn to medicine. However it was obviously something she did not wish to talk about, and Tony understood that very well indeed.
"It seems you have been very successful." Tony offered noticing the slight blush at her words. She's modest too, filing that thought away for contemplation later.
Wanting to change the subject, Megan asked, "Do you have any other questions about the Shadow case?"
Surprising herself once again at being reluctant to turn her attention away from Megan and back to the case, Tony answered, "What are your impressions? Not your clinical findings. YOUR impressions. Is there anything that doesn't fit, or that you're not comfortable with?"
"The only thing I can think of is that the victim seems to be dead before hitting the ground. When someone is strangled, there are always signs of a struggle of some sort. The shoes may be scuffed, the clothing torn or dirty, fingernails broken, that sort of thing. There were absolutely no signs of a struggle and I just don't see how that's possible when someone is fighting for their life. It's as if they are lifted up into the air, killed, and dropped onto the ground. Sounds silly, huh?"
"I'll admit it's puzzling. But no, it doesn't sound silly at all. Is there any possibility the victims may have been killed somewhere else and then moved?"
"No. There was no indication that they had been killed elsewhere. The thing that's really weird is how can someone be murdered in the Flats of all places, without anyone seeing anything? I find that amazing."
"The Flats?"
"You never heard of the Flats?" Raising her eyebrows with an amazed expression on her face, Megan asked, "How can you live in Cleveland and not know what the Flats are?
Tony narrowed her eyes slightly. She hated looking stupid. Obviously the police hadn't bothered to put that little tidbit in the files. With a nonchalance she wasn't feeling, she said, "I just arrived in Cleveland yesterday. Apparently the file I was given on this case is a little lacking."
"I'm sorry, I had no idea." With a chagrined look, Megan continued, "The Flats refers to the flat land on both sides of the Cuyahoga River. All the victims were found there."
Still smarting a little from the look on Megan's face when she had first mentioned the Flats, Tony said, "I find it surprising that it's so common a phrase here in Cleveland when it just refers to the land by the river."
"Oh, no. It's much more than that. It is one of the most popular night spots in Cleveland. Businesses range from the very best in dining to places that are nothing more than meat markets. It's divided by the river. The West Bank and the East Bank. The West Bank sports a little older crowed, late 20's and up. The East Bank caters to the younger, wilder crowd and those out to prey on the less experienced. It has a pulse of its own and is really quite fascinating. All the victims have been found on the East Bank. The place is rocking at night. That's why this case is so frustrating to me. How could no one have hea
rd or seen anything, it just isn't possible."
Tony remained silent enjoying Megan's animated voice as she absorbed the information. She had already planned to visit the crime scenes. The fact that it was a teeming night spot just made it more interesting.
Megan realized she could help the agent. With that thought came the insight that she also wanted to know more about her. Once she left, the opportunity might not present itself again. So risking rejection, she took the first tentative step and said, "You know Tony, since you're new in town, I could show you around down there. I know where the victims were found. It's not like a regular place. There's no parking in most areas and it really is easier if you go with someone who's familiar with it."
"Why would you do that?" Tony asked, surprised at the offer, studying the open earnest face across from her.
"Because I want to see this case solved too and I thought it might save you a little time since you're new here," and because for some reason I can't define I don't want to lose contact with you.
Tony quickly thought through her options. She had no doubt she'd be able to maneuver in the Flats on her own. But it would take less time with someone who knew the area. The sooner this case was solved the sooner she could get to her own *agenda* she justified to herself instead of just acknowledging she liked this attractive woman.
"Ok, but I really need to do it soon."
"No problem. How about tomorrow afternoon around 3pm?" Yes, yes yes! Megan still had no clue as to why it was so important for her to see Tony again. She just knew it was.
Smiling at her, Tony replied, "That'll work."
"It would probably be better if I drove. Where should I pick you up?" Megan smiled back agreeably.
"The Marriott on the Square. You know where it's at?"