Episode 96

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Episode 96

Scene 1:

"So, I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business, when Brad Masters walks by and mentions something about a lead on the Mason fire. And I, very innocently, ask him what the hell he's talking about. Imagine my surprise, when he tells me that someone came in with a tip, talked to you, and then left without ever having been questioned. Why is it that I am the last to know about this, McCormick?" Antonia Hamilton leaned on Andrew's desk, her arms folded over her chest. She stared at her partner inquisitively, waiting and expecting a worthy answer. She was new to Conlan's Glen and newer still to the Glen police force but that didn't mean she was stupid. "Well?"

Andrew looked up with his exasperation at his new partner. Why was he blessed with a pain in the ass for a new partner? Even Annette was less obnoxious. "Well, they have been questioned," he answered gruffly, fully aware that he hadn't answered her question. He shifted through some photos, pictures, etc., of the Mason fire and its results.

"Really? Where's the report then?" She repeated. She was used to this type of treatment. She'd seen it in Baltimore one too many times.

Toni Hamilton did this often and he had gotten used to it. He dug through his papers (yes, he was messy, but he knew exactly where everything was), then chunked the report in front of her. As soon as he had heard Piper Conlan was awake, he gave her two days to fully recover, before interviewing her along with her boyfriend, Noah Wallace. He had received copies Piper's medical records as well. The Fairchild Mansion had been searched and fingerprints matched. Of course, Chase Garrett was nowhere to be found and his name had not yet been released to the media as the suspect. The kick, the upper class in Conlan's Glen would receive from that.

"So, let me see if I have this straight." She picked up the file without looking at it. "You've done all this work without me then? Is that right?"

"I thought you were busy with Tyler Jones on your mind," Andrew returned.

Toni rolled her eyes at the mention of the Jones kid. "I can do more than one thing at a time," she snapped. "Besides, I have a good lead on him. Did you know that he was seen in the parking lot of the hospital trying to break into a car?"

"No," he answered without looking up, scribbling down some illegible notes on a small notepad. Andrew honestly preferred to work alone. This type of thing had worked previously with other partners, especially when he was handling two large cases at once. Leave the smaller case to the partner and he would handle the larger issue.

"Well, he was." She watched him scribble away and for a moment she thought he might really be interested. "The car belonged to Dinah Stafford. You know, the chief of staff's daughter? The one who wouldn't leave him alone?" She grinned at her announcement but the smile faded at the unfazed look on McCormick's face. "You know, it's a solid tip. You could be a little more interested."

Andrew looked up. "I assumed you were competent enough to handle it yourself without too much help from me." It was a backhanded compliment and not a very good one at that. Andrew wasn't very good at giving compliments. "It's a good lead, go with it." It was the best advice he could offer.

"Look, we're partners right? Shouldn't we be working on these cases together?" She stood up straight, trying to appear taller than her 5'1" stature. "I don't mean to be demanding, but so far, you've left me out of a lot."

Andrew rested his head in his hands with a sigh, running it back to make the dark mess worse than usual. He rested his hands behind his head and leaned back in the large chair. "I would think a case as hot as Tyler Jones, which I am giving you most authority on would be a compliment for someone of your rank." When it came to women he just seemed to always assume wrong. He looked her full-on, noting the way she puffed up like a man would when masculinity was questioned.

"Someone of my rank?" She asked indignantly. "Last I checked, we were supposed to be equals. I guess I should go fetch your slippers now and get you a beer?" She pressed her hands together and bowed to him. "So sorry to have caused any trouble."

He didn't mean it like that, but again he tended to have trouble communicating with women. His divorce being a prime example. "I mean that as in you're new here. You've made it very clear you're entirely eager to prove yourself. I am leaving the Tyler Jones case in your hands for you to handle on your own. I prefer to work alone." He wanted to tack on to that, 'let me start a fire for you to burn your bra in,' but decided the comment was in his best interests to be kept to himself.

"So, you're willing to let me take on Tyler Jones alone? No help, no interfering?" She queried suspiciously. That was almost too good to be true.

Damn, he had said that hadn't he? He eyed her warily. He could admit, only to himself, that she was good at her job and most likely could handle the job on her own, but he had a nagging suspicion that she might screw herself over somehow. "If I deem it necessary to interfere than I will." So, yes he was claiming God-like authority, but he didn't care how she felt about it. "But, I doubt that will be necessary. You have the ability to handle the case on your own and if I need assistance in the Mason fire, I'll ask for you."

"Oh. Well as long as you have such confidence in me," Toni replied rolling her eyes. She opened the file and read through a bit of it, still hanging over Andrew's desk. She reached the name of the prime suspect and looked at him skeptically. "You're not serious about this are you? Chase Garrett?"

"Yep, completely serious," he replied, still shifting through papers, scribbling notes, and so on.

She laughed at his careless attitude. "Isn't his father some sort of bigwig in this town?" She asked. "And what proof do you have except that two kids say he allegedly kidnapped one of them and tied her up? That's pretty weak evidence if you ask me."

"Nobody was asking you," he replied coolly. "Traces of skin found under Piper Conlan's finger nail match evidence found at the Fairchild Mansion. She was kidnapped, but by Chase, were not sure. Chase is nowhere to be found. Hallie recently fired him when she went on her spree. Nothing is hardcore until we find Chase Garrett, but he's our only lead. I personally know the kid because he's my ex-wife's half brother. He's not all there. But, that's all weak until we find him." Again, he didn't bother to look up at her as he spoke.

"A relative hm? I had no idea." She smirked at the idea of Andrew McCormick related to a firebug. "Well, maybe you should see if your ex has heard from him."

"I already have," he answered, finally looking up at her, no longer hiding his annoyance. Genevieve was one of the first people he had spoken with and Jeremiah as well.

"Fine. I was just trying to help." She dropped the file on his desk. "I'm going to the Staffords' home to speak with Dinah Stafford. Anything you need while I'm out? Perhaps a better suspect?"

"Perhaps a less obnoxious partner." He couldn't hold back any longer, the woman annoyed the hell out of him. He looked straight up at her when he made the comment, before looking back down at his papers.

Toni stiffened at the insult but took it in stride. She'd been expecting his real feelings to emerge someday. "Well, can't help you there. You could try to be a little less secretive about your work. Unless you're covering up for your ex-wife's brother."

He looked up at Toni, entirely unfazed by her weak comment. The comeback contradicted her snide attitude about Chase being a weak suspect. "Don't you have work to do?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, glaring angrily. "Of course!" She snapped, stomping off to the coffee maker. Men, she thought irritably. She would show him though. Tyler Jones was a rapist and she would find him easily. When she was finished, she'd make sure she was the one who found ME's arsonist.

Scene 2:

Dinah was just getting home from her last final when she saw the car. Not your ordinary car either. A nondescript blue sedan. Nothing special about it and that was what worried her. She grabbed her bag and tried not to think about what that car meant but she had an active imagination and she could imagine a lot. She walked to the front door, pulling it open, thinking for the shortest moment that she should turn around and leave. The thought that maybe whoever owned the car might be here about Kelly made her keep going though.

"Dinah." Her father's voice hit her as soon as the door closed. She closed her eyes and went towards the living room where both her parents and another woman sat drinking coffee.

"Hello," she said to the woman entering the room. No matter how she felt about her parents and how her stomach was tightening right now, she had to make sure no one suspected a thing.

"Dinah, dear, this is Detective Hamilton. She's working on finding that Tyler Jones," Barbara said introducing them. The detective stood, barely coming to Dinah's shoulder, and offered her hand. "And this is our daughter, Dinah," Barbara continued.

"Nice to meet you," Dinah said, putting herself on guard at the mention of Tyler's name.

"Likewise," the detective replied. She looked between Dinah and her parents briefly. "Would you mind if Dinah and I spoke alone?"

"I don't think that would be..." John began before the detective cut him off.

"I promise I won't torture her. Just a couple of questions," she assured him, giving him a friendly smile. She looked back at Dinah with the same friendly gaze. "Maybe you would walk me to my car? I promise just a few short questions about the last time you saw Tyler Jones."

Dinah nodded, her heart beginning to pound. She followed the woman to the porch and waited as she dug around in her purse. She'd spoken to Noah before class that day and had gotten a progress report. Tyler was doing better for the most part. The bruises were healing and disappearing. But he was still weak and slept a lot. They just needed more time and there was an alarming lack of that right now. Especially with this police officer standing in front of her.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Detective Hamilton asked, opening a new pack of Marlboro Lights. Dinah shook her head. "You want one?"

"Oh no. I don't smoke."

"Just as well. It's bad for you. I should know... My dad died of lung cancer but here I am still smoking. I try and quit every few months but it's a hard habit to break." She lit the cigarette, holding it delicately between her manicured fingers. "Well, I guess you know we're trying to find Tyler," she said after taking a quick drag.

"Yes," Dinah replied careful to keep her comments to a minimum. "But I don't know that I can help you Detective Hamilton."

"Call me Toni. I think you can, Dinah. When was the last time you saw Tyler Jones?"

"In the hospital. Dad and I had a fight outside his room," Dinah told her, meeting her gaze. "He disappeared right after that...or during I think. I don't know. I left the hospital a few minutes after the argument."

Toni nodded her head. "Yes...that is what your father said too. And did you walk home or drive or were you with someone else?"

Dinah shook her head, knitting her brows together. "I drove but no one was with me."

"I see...and you parked in the parking garage there?" Dinah nodded again, watching as Toni took out a notepad, flipping it open. "Dinah, we got a tip that Tyler Jones was seen trying to break into your car. Did you see him there? Or any signs that your car had been disturbed?"

"No...But then, I leave my car unlocked too. It's a jeep and I'd rather someone just took what they wanted rather than cut the cover to get inside. As far as seeing Tyler...well, I heard footsteps once but I didn't see anyone at all. Do you think I scared him off?" She tried to look anxious and excited but she had the feeling it wasn't working.

"Possibly." Toni stubbed her cigarette out on her shoe. "Look, I'll be honest with you. Someone helped him get away. He was still pretty battered when he left the hospital. This kid is dangerous too. He raped that girl, Dinah."

"I thought it was her word against his?"

"It is. But I've seen one too many cases like this. He ran because he's guilty. And as soon as we catch him, he'll be put away for a very long time where he can't hurt another girl the way he hurt Melissa Cravens."

Dinah looked away, trying to hide her thoughts. Tyler wasn't guilty. She knew it. If this cop thought she could convince her otherwise she was dead wrong. She would just have to get Melissa Cravens to admit that she lied. How she would do that, she had no idea.

"Dinah? Look, if you know anything, you should tell me. Don't protect him," Toni said cutting into her thoughts.

"I don't though," Dinah shrugged. "I talked to him in the hospital a couple of times. But he wasn't very nice. In fact, he didn't want me there at all. So, can't help you. I'm sorry."

"All right then. If you see him, call me?" She handed Dinah a card with her name and number printed on it. Dinah nodded, tucking the card into her pocket. Toni nodded and headed to her car. Turning on her heel, Dinah went back into the house. John stood just by the staircase watching her with a suspicious gaze. He narrowed his eyes at her, folding his arms over his chest. Dinah wanted to scowl back at him, but she held it down, smiling sweetly instead before ascending the stairs to get away from her parents and their prying questions.

Scene 3:

Dressed in a perfectly, tailored suit, Eleanor Fairchild descended the front steps of the sprawling Fairchild mansion, calling to her daughter in her rich Southern drawl.

"Genevieve!"

Genevieve rolled her eyes as she picked up her son and balanced him on her hip. "Yes, mother?"

"Look at this! Can you believe it? Police everywhere. All because of that dreadful brat." She stopped at the last marble step, waiting for her daughter to approach her. "Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation?"

"Mother, your reputation...," Genevieve trailed off.

"Yes, is scarred, but this is just one more deep abrasion!" She turned as an officer walked by, addressing him, "do keep the work dogs away from my kennels otherwise the barking will drive every one of us mad." She shifted her attention back towards her eldest. "And your sister and her ghosts don't
help either."

"Here granny," Genevieve said dryly, setting Ethan on to the ground.

"Don't you call me any such thing, Genevieve…Ethie, how's my favorite boy?" Four year old Ethan, polished and scrubbed, hair flat against his head, politely handed his grandmother a small bouquet of jonquils.

"Fine, thank you," he replied politely. Genevieve had promised McDonalds if he was on his best behavior and minded his manners.

"Oh, they're beautiful, Ethan, hurry up inside and go see the dogs," she said, gently pushing him towards the front doors. "Well, you've missed quite a bit since you've been gone. Guy prepared a wonderful, afternoon brunch out on the balcony for us."

Eleanor hustled her daughter inside, a squeal of delight piercing the air upon entrance. Ethan was eagerly accepting slobbery kisses from Eleanor's prize Alaskan malamute. Soon, a herd of the large, wolf-like dogs thundered into the room.

"Oh, Ethan," Genevieve bemoaned.

"Gen, I swear darling, you are far too strict on that child," Eleanor chastised. "Josie, will you get Ethan cleaned back up for brunch and put the dogs back in their room," she asked of one of her many maids. Eleanor turned back to her daughter. "I suppose you know about Daphne's boy."

"How could I not mother?"

Eleanor suddenly stopped, giving her daughter the once over as if she had just noticed the casual attire clothed on her body. "What are you wearing?" she asked.

"Clothes, mother."

"You're wearing jeans. Couldn't you have dressed up, some of my friends might stop by unexpected."

"I really don't think my wearing jeans is the thing that's going to do your reputation in," Genevieve answered dryly.

"I swear you act more and more like your wretched sister everyday!" Eleanor snapped, pivoting on her heel, covering the large home easily with her long legs. "If you start any of that paranormal garbage, I'll disown you." Genevieve sighed and rolled her eyes. "In a nutshell, Hallie Lennox took over ME, then it was burned down by Daphne's boy because she fired him, Andrew is currently inspecting a date rape case, Augustine passed away-"

"Augustine died?" Genevieve asked, only mildly bewildered.

"Yes, the cancer finally got him. A shame he was a brilliant man, but he left all his money to an illegitimate daughter of his instead of Iliana or Octavia." Eleanor released an airy laugh at that.

"I can just imagine how that delighted you, mother," Genevieve replied.

"Of course, I can't stand Iliana-"

"That's because she's exactly like you-"

"Genevieve Fairchild, I'm not that bad, Iliana falls into the Hallie Lennox category and her daughter's no better-"

"I always liked Octavia. Is she still engaged to Jason Kennedy?"

"That lawyer?" Eleanor briefly paused in her gossip, "ah, yes, she is. As I was saying, it's bad enough Iliana was given the Westcott name, Oliver was always a fool, bless his soul, and I’m still convinced Iliana slipped him cyanide."

"Okay, when did Hallie take over ME?" Genevieve asked, quickly changing the subject. Eleanor Fairchild always became coarse at the mention of her sister-in-law, Iliana Wescott.

"Not too long ago, at the wedding, oh! Turns out Jude Fontaine is Gwen Mason's illegitimate son. And you always thought we were the only rich, scandalous family in the Glen! Hah! This illegitimacy is an epidemic here. Augie writes it in his will for all his money to go his illegitimate daughter in Florida! Jude Fontaine and Gwen Mason! And of course our own little illegitimate one burns down ME!" Her punctuation marks ended in high-pitched frequencies and the artificiality of her laugh was singed with bitterness.

"Mother, you're getting right-brained."

Snapping from her bitter reverie, Eleanor released another one of her laughs, "oh, Gen darling, anyway, Daphne's boy-"

"He does have a name."

Eleanor shot her daughter a look and repeated herself, "Daphne's boy-"
"Chase, mother, don't blame Dad's fault and your own on Chase, it's no wonder the boy is so screwed up!"

"Jesus, Genevieve, stop acting holier-than-thou! You always act that way now that you're a McCormick. You're a Fairchild, whether you like it or not!" Genevieve gritted her teeth, but remained firm. "Chase, dammit, Chase, the boy's name is Chase! Are you happy?"

"Mildly."

"Chase," Eleanor said, spitting the word out as though it were the foulest tasting thing in the world. “Was dating this delightfully, sweet girl, Kevin Conlan's youngest...oh, what’s her name-"

"I believe its Piper."

"That's it! Piper! Darling girl and he brought her over her a few times-"

"You let him come over?" Genevieve asked, now fully bewildered.

"No, your father did, stop interrupting, it's rude. She broke up with him for some other boy, he slipped her something, brought her over here and reincarnated some sick, perverted fantasy of his, and he even got out one of the antique dresses we wear for historic homes-"

"Mother, I know the details, Andrew told me. But, Chase is only a suspect for the burning of ME."

"Oh, please, Gen, the boy did it."

"Mother, you are so hard on him, it's not his fault he was the product of an affair. You've always blamed Chase for the stupidity of your husband and your best friend-"

"Shut-up, Genevieve, I am about sick of your attitude!" Eleanor snapped viciously, slamming her fist down on the glass of the wrought-iron patio table. Eleanor drew back at her own temper-tantrum, unclenching her fist to smooth her hair. She suddenly brightened as Ethan burst through the French,
patio doors. Eleanor spread her arms for an embrace from her grandson, all traces of her previous tantrum gone. "Ethie, did you have fun with the puppies?"