[MD1 1900hrs]
Jim and Vanessa left Delaney's and walked out to the Sheriff's car. The possible pursuers were no longer in sight. As they got into the car to drive to the rental place, Jim started talking about his plans for the evening.
"Well, I guess we go back to the restaurant and start from there, after we speak to the Sheriff about the local homeless hangouts."
Vanessa groaned inwardly. She knew it was important to eliminate the women from their enquiries, but the task seemed so fruitless. She was just some drivelling old woman. Still, they had to check.
They had to drive back from the rental shop seperately so they could return the Sheriff's car. Jim spoke to him about the possible locations for the woman. Afterwards, with the Sheriff going back home reluctantly, Jim and Vanessa drove to the restaurant beside the gallery.
As they arrived, Jim noticed the sign said 'Closed' and only the waiter who had grabbed him was there, cleaning up the place.
"Why don't you wait here and I'll go and speak to this guy. It won't take long."
"OK," Vanessa said, although she couldn't help wondering why Jim wanted to speak to him alone. She thought that he might want to get some revenge for this afternoon. In a way she was right. Jim was hoping there might be trouble. He wouldn't mind getting his own back a little on that guy.
Knocking on the door, the waiter did not even turn round.
"We're closed. Read the sign, moron!"
Knocking again, a little more quietly, got the man to turn round.
"Oh God! It's the FBI! We're closed, go eat somewhere else."
"Just open the door now," Jim stated.
Once in the restaurant, the waiter sat down on a chair and lit a cigarette. He looked as if he didn't have a care in the world; not quite the usual reaction to the FBI.
"How do you know the old woman from this afternoon?"
"She comes here sometimes, looking for scraps and not-quite-empty bottles. What's it to you, anyway?"
"You heard her talk about the murders. What do you think, Einstein?"
"Heh, fuck you! I don't need to take your crap. Get out!"
The waiter rose and went towards Jim.
"Trying to throw me out would not be a good idea," he stated coldly.
The man came towards him, fists ready. Jim simply waited for him to come. When he did, he side stepped the man and tripped him sending him flying on to the floor.
"I don't have time to play today, stupid. Just answer the questions."
Picking himself up, he grabbed the first thing which came to hand - a bottle. He swung it at the FBI man. Reaper simply blocked his arm, twisted it up his back and crashed his head down onto one of the tables before throwing him to the floor again.
"I could sue you for assault, you bastard!"
"You're lucky I don't arrest you, now shut up and start talking," Jim smiled.
"I saw her once when I was driving home. She seems to sleep under the 9th Street bridge. I don't know anymore, right!!"
"OK, clever - I believe you. Heh, maybe I'll see you around."
He left the restaurant and the muttering obscenities, going back to the car. When he got there, Vanessa looked angry.
"Why did you hit him?"
"He came at me twice, with a bottle too. What was I supposed to do?"
"You could have disarmed him easily. Why did you hurt him?"
"I didn't. The guy was still cursing when I left. He needed taught a lesson in manners. Anyway, I found out what we wanted to know."
Vanessa looked at her partner. She knew he was not predisposed to violence. She had read his file at the Bureau. He usually tried to solve things without violence, but his size, obvious attitude of 'I can handle you, pal' and his military experience meant that he had ended up involved in a few scraps. He had never lost, though. As they drove to the bridge, Jim telling her where the waiter had directed them, she considered the matter further. She supposed that the team needed someone like him, a 'hard man'. It was good to know her partner for Tactical could handle himself, but she hoped there work didn't come down to too many fights, though she was no wall flower herself, she thought with a smile.
As they arrived at the bridge, they parked and took some flashlights from the car. They looked around for a while under the bridge, but saw no sign. They decided to follow the track underneath for a way, to see if anything was there. A road, up and to the right, followed along the same direction. They were about to turn back when Vanessa spotted something in the undergrowth. Before they reached it, they knew it was the woman. It looked as if the body had been dumped from the road. They 'phoned the Sheriff on their cellphone to get a forensic team out there. Both of them had seen death before, but this seemed so futile. Someone on the rubbish heap of life. She must have known something, or thought she did. She certainly had broadcast her supposed knowledge all over town. One strange thing was that she seemed not to fit. A brief examination later, Jim and Vanessa discovered none of the things associated with the long term homeless. She was fully nourished, she did not appear to have been drinking and although her clothes were ragged, her underwear was clean and pretty new.
They decided to go back to their hotel. Jim wondered if he might have averted this without that stupid waiter getting in the way. Too late to wonder now. They arrived back and just before they went to their rooms, Vanessa said,
"We couldn't have done anymore for her. It wasn't your fault, you know"
"I didn't know I was so transparent," he answered with a try at a smile.
"No, I just know how I'd feel. Anyway, get some rest. We'll have to start early tomorrow. We may even hear from the others tonight."
With their 'Goodnights' said, they went inside. Jim lay on his bed, but could not rest. He took of his suit, which he hated anyway, and put on a pair of shorts. Perhaps some Tai Chi would relax him.
NRPG:
Looks like we have another stiff on our hands!! The question is - who was she?
Peter.
Respectfully submitted,
FCO Ensign Olivier Patru, USS ORION NCC-1997, Starfleet.
Private Eoin McDonald, Ranger, TEAM LEO, Ragnarok.
Special Agent-1 Jim Reaper, X-Files Division, FBI.
aka Peter Shillan.