IC: Chris Nichols Nichols' Household He listened as Eric rattled on about how thrilled he was about being here and to spend the summer away with his parents. It was sickening to hear him say those things and yet, Chris couldn't react. No matter how much pent up frustration he had, he couldn't yell or protest. He simply stood there, one hand resting on the counter as he watched his son dabble on. Did they really raise him? Was this really their son? If so, they had raised a fool and his simple-mindedness certainly didn't come from either of them. Then again, he had to remind himself that this is what happened when he allowed his father to come into the mix. His father was like a poison and now he feared it had spread to his son. Why did it have to be this way? Forming the hand that was resting on the counter into a fist at the thought, Chris snapped out of it as soon as Eric began to make his way upstairs, taking two stairs at a time as he went. The 'thumping' continued into the spare bedroom and once silence had returned, Chris turned towards Naomi, his expression showing that he was clearly upset. "Did you give him the address?" he asked testily, trying to keep his temper in check. He needed an outlet to vent, but he didn't want to take it out on Naomi. "You know I don't want him here. Why do you think I wanted to leave before he came back from school?" He started to work his way around the counter, heading for the stairs. "He can't stay here." Without waiting for Naomi to reply, he trudged up the stairs after his son, knocking on the door of the spare bedroom to grab his attention before entering. "Don't even bother to unpack," he announced without preamble, his eyes traveling over the mess Eric had already managed to create by simply laying out his stuff haphazardly over the bed. "I know you had a long drive and all, but you can't stay here. Saying you're going to find an apartment isn't going to cut it. I know how you are...a few days will turn into weeks and then months." He inhaled deeply, his eyes idly traveling to the window. Despite how he felt, why was it so difficult to look him in the eye? Was he afraid Eric would somehow persuade him to let him stay? His own son shouldn't have that kind of power over him....and he wouldn't. "I want you to find somewhere else to stay until then. If you need money for a hotel..." He hesitated for a moment before coming out with it. "Just...just let me know, alright? I may be willing to give you that much." TAG: @tjace, @spycoder9
Spycoder9 Approved Name: Gordon Gibson Gender: Male Age: 28 Appearance: 5'11" 160lbs athletic build. Dark blond hair and brown eyes. Wears dark horn-rim glasses. Occupation: Professional Investigator. Biography: Gordon’s mother was killed when he was a little boy. He was placed into foster care as his father had left the moment he found out she was pregnant. Growing up in the system tends to change children. They don’t trust as easy as other kids, too much reality not enough childhood. To make matters worse, Gordon was obsessed with serial killers. He followed all the news reports and every article. His foster parents were very worried, and he was sent to several psychiatrists. Gordon became sullen and started to act out, shoplifting, fighting, and vandalism. He bounced around from foster home to foster home until his fourteenth birthday, when Gordon went for a joy ride in his foster parents Chrysler, and promptly ran it into a tree. He was sent to a juvenile facility and remained there until his eighteenth birthday, where he was released and his records sealed. With no idea about what to do with his life, Gordon joined the Navy. He served in Shore Patrol and achieved the rank of Petty Officer First Class. He gained a reputation as an investigator and has a number of cases solved and under his belt. Gordon left the Navy a changed man… mostly. Gordon still had an interest in serial killers. He had gotten his degree in criminal psychology while in the Navy. He just got his discharge papers and was scheduled for an interview with NCIS when he heard a News report of a Lawyer in Riverview that claimed to know who the Riverview Serial Killer was. Gordon cancelled his interview and booked a flight out to Maine. Gordon contacted an old Navy buddy that ran a Investigation agency in Maine. By the time Gordon got to Maine he was employed as a Professional Investigator and Security Consultant and was on his way to open a branch of the office in Riverview to service the town and surrounding areas. Gordon hadn’t been in Riverview for more than a day and at the new office for more than an hour before he had his first client, none other than Alex Crane.
IC: Naomi Nichols Nichols home Eric energetically climbed the stairs to the upstairs room. Chris turned to Naomi. “Did you give him the address?” The look of anger and distrust in his eyes pierced deeper than his accusation ever could. What was she supposed to have done, just vanish without a trace? “You know I don’t want him here. Why do you think I wanted to leave before he came back from school?” He started after their son. “He can’t stay here,” he said with finality. It’s good to know we’re in this together. Did he ever think that maybe I want to see my son? That his daddy issues could turn Eric against us, until he hates his father just as much as Chris hates his? Naomi followed her husband up the stairs, but waited outside the room to let him finish. “… I know how you are. A few days will turn into weeks and then months.” Eric probably wouldn’t take that well. Naomi went back downstairs. If Chris wouldn’t let Eric stay with them, Naomi was at least going to have to see him off, maybe help on his apartment hunt. TAG: @spycoder9 , @HanSolo29
OOC: Not my best update, but I have a bad headache. Hope it's okay. June 13thRiverview, Maine Neighborhoods The Nichols Home “You’ll pay me?” Eric laughed, and whirled around to the bags he had laid down. He jerked them up in his arms and brushed past his dad. “I don’t want your damn money, Pop. I thought, maybe if I could stay here for a few days with you and mom, maybe we could do some of those things we were never able to when we lived in New York.” Eric stormed down the stairs, glancing in the direction his mother had went. She didn’t even love him enough to stick up to Christopher. “Play board games, enjoy supper together. Family stuff. Things we were never able to do because you worked every minute of the day.” He pulled his shoes on, glaring at his father. “Grandpa was right. You never wanted or tried to love me. Take your money and shove it.” Eric slammed the front door shut behind him, the tires on his car squealing as he pulled out of the driveway. Riverview Police Station Parking Lot Aaron and Gracie helped Kareen finish unloading boxes. Jenna eventually came out from her room and walked down to the front porch. She swung and texted, ignoring all of them as they carried packages. “You could get your own clothes,” Aaron mumbled as he passed her carrying a super large suitcase of Jenna’s shirts. “You could leave me alone.” Jenna rolled her eyes, not moving an itch off the swing. Once the boxes had finally been unloaded, they got back in the car and headed out to the police station. Jenna fumed the whole way there, shooting her mother dirty looks every so often. When they pulled into the parking lot, Kareen would realize a lot of changes had been made in the last twenty years. A whole extra wing had been added onto the old, and the outside had a complete makeover. It was obvious changes would be made in the course of twenty years, but they seemed rather shocking for Kareen. New windows, an outdoor pavilion for eating and taking breaks, a whole extra parking lot for police cars. And now it was time for Kareen to face her past front and center. Riverview Medical Center Floor One, Emergency Room “Do you know how rare B Negative blood is?” Doctor Ashburn was too tolerant of interns in the first place, and relying on one to help him treat a patient was hard. Still, the pretty little nurse who had sent for Maisy came back within a few seconds with several packets of blood. “Here’s the damn blood.” They stuck a needle in her arm and hung the packet up on a rack, letting the blood slowly drip into the patient. “Now we need to stitch some of the wounds up.” The doctor sighed, glancing at the nervous intern. It wouldn’t help to have her in the operating room right now. “Perhaps you should just tell us about any special precautions we need to take with her, and then try to find out who she is.” He smiled as he took out some of his utensils. It was obvious that Maisy would take the hint. Near Town Center Gordon Gibson's Office Alex Crane sat in the seat across from the professional investigator, his hands shaking. Things hadn’t been so complicated when Gordon Gibson had first arrived in town. Alex thought that it would be nice to find someone who could objectively dig through the past and truly find out who killed his mom. The worst part about it was the fact that obviously the killer had learned about him investigating the past and killed his grandmother. Susanna Crane had raised him side by side with his other grandmother Amy York, and now she was buried in the ground near her daughter. “Obviously, I. . .I still want to do this.” Alex’s bright blue eyes wandered from Gordon to the window. “I mean. . .now we know the killer is back. And. . .and we might be able to catch him.” He could feel the tears about to burst through. The woman who had been like a mother to him was dead. “Did. . .did you get any leads or clues? From the crime scene I mean? I would’ve looked. . .but. . .” He gnawed on his lip. “I need your help. You’re the only person in this whole town I can trust besides my family. . .well. . .most of my family.” TAG: @HanSolo29, @tjace, @JediMasterAnne, @Jedi_Padawan_Leigh, @RepublicAnvil
OOC: The flashback in this post is combined with spycoder9 IC: Kareen Gillis Riverview Police Station Parking Lot Hoping to avoid further conflict amongst her children, Kareen finally just told Aaron and Gracie to ignore Jenna and just leave their sister to herself. Once all the boxes and bags were out of the car, Kareen let Aaron and Gracie watch TV—Jenna was still out on the porch swing—while she changed out of her shorts and T-shirt into something a little more professional-looking. Soon enough, they were all piled back in the car, on their way to the station. As she drove through town, Kareen tried to calm her jittery nerves. Except for the two phone calls a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t seen or spoken to Robert in twenty years. She’d been quite surprised to get that first call… About 2 weeks earlier Daniel and Hannah Gillis’s Residence—temporary home of Kareen Gillis and her children Portland, Maine Things were actually pretty relaxed at the moment, and frankly, that was the way Kareen liked it. It made things seem almost normal. Her mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner—Kareen had offered to help her, but Hannah had declined—Daniel and Aaron were playing a game in the dining room, Jenna, as usual, was shut up in the girls’ room, listening to her music, and Gracie was watching a cartoon as she tried not to fall asleep in Kareen’s lap. Daniel and Hannah had taken Gracie to the zoo today, and after that excitement, the little girl was clearly worn out. Things were so relaxed, in fact, that everyone jumped when the phone rang. Kareen heard her mother drop something in the kitchen, and Aaron gave a little shout of surprise. Daniel cursed under his breath—he tried not to swear out loud within earshot of his grandchildren—but the kids still heard him. Kareen snickered, and Hannah laughed from the kitchen at Gracie’s scolding tone, “Gram-pa!” Affectionately kissing her daughter on the head, Kareen leaned over to grab the phone and checked the caller ID: Riverview Police Dept. She must have had the most dumbfounded look on her face, because Daniel, peering in from the dining room, frowned in concern, and Gracie was wearing a similar expression. Who…? Why would…? Her mind couldn’t seem to form a complete thought. She had left Riverview years ago; the time she’d spent there was not a point in her life that she was particularly proud of, nor was it something she liked to look back on. But why would someone in Riverview be calling here? When she finally recovered her senses, she barely managed to answer the phone before the machine picked up. “Hello?” "Kareen? Is that you?" The voice that replied was one Kareen would know perfectly. Aged a little, but it was still the same cop. "It's Robert." Kareen's jaw dropped—Gracie, watching curiously, cocked her head in mild amusement, but Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion. She hadn't spoken to Robert since she'd left Riverview, and even before then, they'd barely talked to each other after...Kareen tried not to think about that. "Yes, Robert...it's me." She looked to her father, in time to see his eyebrows go up in surprise; he would recognize Robert's name. As if reading his daughter's mind, Daniel quietly strode over and plucked a still-perplexed Gracie from Kareen's lap—sometimes, the way he played and rough-housed with the kids, carrying around Gracie or Aaron, Kareen could scarcely believe he was in his seventies now; her mother, too. This year marked their fiftieth wedding anniversary. While Daniel carried Gracie into the dining room, Kareen took the phone and retreated to her bedroom, where she could talk to Robert without risk of being overheard. Only when the door was shut did she speak up again. "What...what's going on? Why are you calling?" "I. . ." There was no noise on the other side of the phone for several seconds. "Natalie. Natalie Crane." She was sure that the blood drained from her face. She had never forgotten that case--how could she? To this day, she considered it one of her greatest failures. "Robert, what's happened?" "There's been a break. Twenty damn years. . ." Robert sighed. "Twenty years since. . .since we talked." She bit her lip. Don't think about that right now. It was bad enough that she was still recovering emotionally from the divorce, she didn't need those bitter memories on top of that. Just keep it professional, one officer to another. "What kind of break?" "Well, it has to do with Heather Casper. Disappeared without a trace that same week, you remember right? A man came out and said that he was there when she died. Some old lawyer of the Casper's, I think. Mathew Clinton. He has some important information that he couldn't tell me over the phone, but he did say that Heather was murdered, and that he suspected it was by the same person as Natalie." Kareen remembered Mathew Clinton, and she did not like him. She also remembered something of the conversation they'd had with him regarding Heather's disappearance. I knew he was lying to us. "Did he happen to say who he suspects that person is?" "There's the problem. His wife died from cancer, and he. . .he has some kind of make up for all his wrongs type of thing going on. He won't tell anyone. . .anyone but you." That surprised her. For a moment, she considered how good it would feel to finally solve that case—to finally catch that killer... Then she thought of her kids--she would have to go up to Riverview to talk to Clinton...and there was no telling how long this would take. As much as she was certain that her parents would be more than happy to watch the kids for as long as was necessary, Kareen wasn't sure how the kids would take her being gone for an unspecified length of time, and she wasn't entirely sure she could handle that separation, either. "Why me? Why won't he talk to you?" "He was adamant on speaking to you. I know you probably don't want to come down here, especially after how you left, but. . .this case has been open for twenty years Kareen. I don't want to let an opportunity like this slip away." Kareen sighed, running her hand through her hair. "It's not that I don't want to see this through, Robert, but..." She hesitated; sooner or later, he was probably going to find out, but for reasons she couldn't explain, she didn't feel comfortable talking about her private life with him after not speaking for twenty years. "If it was just me, I'd be up there tonight, but...dammit, Robert...I just went through a painful divorce, and I...I've got three very confused kids who need me right now." And I need them. "I have to think about them. I couldn't just leave them here while I'm up there." It occurred to her that she could take the kids with her...but who would watch them while she was working? And there was the fact that she was still working for the Portland police department--she was currently on leave, but, having no idea how long she might have to stay in Riverview, if she over-extended her leave, she could lose her job--and she couldn't afford that. "I couldn't do that to them, they couldn't handle it right now." "Kareen. . .kids? I didn't even know you got married. I mean, we haven't talked in so long, but still you'd think I would've heard something. . ." Robert gave a nervous laugh. "So tell me about those kids of yours. If they're like you, you must have your hands full." He chuckled. It still seemed as if he was shocked that she had went and had a life. Kareen smiled in spite of herself, giving an equally nervous laugh. "Very funny. "I have two girls, Jenna and Gracie, and a boy, Aaron. Jenna is thirteen, Aaron is nine, and Gracie is seven. They're good kids, really. I think they're just having a hard time because of..." The cheer left her voice. "Because of the divorce." "Only an idiot would divorce you, Kareen." There was a long uncomfortable silence."Hey. . .it might be good to come out here. . .good for the kids, maybe. You said they're having a hard time. Maybe if they…moved out here, just for the summer, they could spend some time away from all the stress up there. I won't bother to know what all went on with you and. . .you and your ex-husband, but I know how much I'd like to go to a 'beautiful small town' and resurface a case that I hadn't finished twenty years before." He laughed hard. "Listen to me, pressuring you. I know how stressed out you must be." Kareen managed a smile at his attempt at humor, but it quickly faded. "The worst part of the stress is over, at least. But I don't know about dragging the kids up there--it may be good for them, but on the other hand it may just make things worse. Jenna barely speaks to anyone as it is, and we're just managing to make some progress with bringing down this wall that Aaron's put up. Plus I don't know how they'll react to me taking them away from my parents as well; Mom and Dad been a huge help these last few months, and I hate to repay that by taking the kids out of town for who-knows-how-long." But she did want to see this case solved and closed. She wouldn't trade her children for anything in the world, but she was quickly finding that being a divorced working mother was going to be very...inconvenient, at times. "Besides, if I did come up there, who would watch them while I'm working? You know just as well as I do how crazy people are up there, I couldn't just leave my kids with a stranger." "My sister could watch them. I mean. . ." He stuttered over his words. "That might be uncomfortable though. . .she liked you. Remember her coming for Thanksgiving?" Kareen frowned a little; she wasn't quite sure about that. "Yeah, that could be a little uncomfortable..." After a moment, she added, "How is she?” Does she hate me for leaving him? "Asumi's doing great, actually. She. . .she used to be a teacher. She moved over here to Riverview and taught for a few years, but she quit when she married Dakota. . .you know, Casper." Robert paused. "Asumi could never have kids. Out of all the people in the world, it had to be her. And she really liked you while you were here. That's why I thought. . ." She was surprised to hear that Asumi had married Dakota; she did recall, though, that Patrick's brother had been going through a divorce around the time of Natalie's murder. If she remembered correctly, he'd had twin girls by his first wife--but they would be grown by now. "I'm sorry to hear that, Robert..." Another awkward silence, which she couldn't stand. "Will you give me a day or two to think about all this? I'll talk to Mom and Dad, and the kids. I'll have to talk to my boss, too, see if they'll hold my position until I get back, if I go. And I'll think about Asumi, but I'm just not sure about anything right now." "Yeah, yeah, think about it. Just don't take too long. I'm afraid if something gets out that the lawyer's gonna fess up. . .he might suffer a fate similar to Natalie." Kareen paused, realizing he was right. "That's true..." That had seemed to happen quite a bit, when the case was first active--every time Robert and Kareen had gotten a lead, someone else got to it before they did, and their leads all ended up dead or disappeared. "I should have an answer for you in a couple of days. Hopefully Clinton won't change his mind in that time. You might consider putting him in protective custody until then, or taking him to a safehouse." It was just a suggestion, but it wouldn't hurt to be cautious. "So what else have I missed up there?" "Amy retired from the force. Hired me as chief." Kareen was pleasantly shocked. "Wow...congratulations on the promotion." At the same time, she couldn't help feeling a little sad--even in the short time Kareen had worked for her, she had quickly come to respect Amy, as her superior and as her friend, despite their difference in age; Amy's son Xander had been only a few years younger than Kareen herself. She hadn't spoken to Amy since she had tended her resignation, and one of the few things Kareen missed about Riverview was Amy's friendship. "How is Amy enjoying retirement?" Her own parents seemed to enjoy not working anymore, but they had the kids to occupy their time. "I think she likes it. I don't get to talk to her near as much as I should." Robert paused. "Did you hear about Mordecai?" "No, what about him?" "He was always bastard, I knew that much. Marching around as if he owned the town. He has populated it well enough, I give him that. But after you left, some stuff went down. Mordecai had to step down as CEO of his company, and Patrick. . ." That name caused Robert a momentary stop. It was so slow it was almost uncatchable. Almost. ". . .took over for him. Now the old man lives in his mansion and almost never comes out. Sends out maids and butlers to fetch things for him, but he never leaves other than that. I can understand him being depressed over his granddaughter dying, his great grandson being taken away from his custody, and his wife going missing. But something about him. . .always seemed shifty. As if he was hiding another side to him. I'm glad he's holed up in the house." Kareen noticed how he hesitated when Patrick's name came up, and she was glad they weren't having this conversation face to face, as she felt her cheeks and ears grow warm. She didn't want to go down that fork of memory lane right now. She had never met Mordecai Casper in person, and she had only ever had one conversation with him over the phone--she had been the one to inform him of his granddaughter's murder--and that encounter alone was enough for a lifetime. Frankly, she shared Robert's opinion; she was glad that Mordecai had gone into self-imposed seclusion within his home. "I'm not gonna argue with you there." Curious, she added a moment later. "What kind of 'stuff' went down, exactly? Or do you know?" "Not a word about it.” Kareen wasn’t surprised. “That family has always kept their secrets inside. It. . .kind of scares me to think that Asumi is involved with them. But Dakota's nice. Nicer than the rest of them." She still remembered meeting Dakota a time or two during the investigation, and he had seemed to her kind of like the black sheep of the family. "I'm sure she'll be fine, Robert." "A brother never stops worrying about his little sister." He chuckled. "So aside from getting that nice promotion, what have you been up to?" "Nothing, actually. This job has literally consumed me. I mean I've dated a few girls, but nothing as big as getting married and having kids." Once again, she wasn't terribly surprised, but somehow, she couldn't help but wonder if she was partially responsible for the fact that he had not been able to find a lasting, committed relationship. They had not parted on the best terms...but perhaps it was better not to talk about that. "Well, I can't say much about marriage anymore--it was nice while it lasted, I suppose--but as far as kids go..." She found herself smiling. "You're missing out." The moment she said it, she regretted it, as other long-supressed memories re-surfaced. "Yeah, looks like I'm getting a little too old for kids of my own. I guess it was never meant to be.” Kareen bit her lip. “Oh, wait, hold on. Yeah, I'm getting a call from the station. Hang on, I'll tell them to wait." A click and then a pause, followed soon by another click. "Okay, I'm back, but I have to hurry. Something important happened." Kareen grew concerned. "What?" "They didn't tell me. Once I get off the phone with you I'm heading down to the station." "All right. I'll call you back with an answer tomorrow or the next day." "I'll keep my cell on at all times." “Bye, Robert.” A knock on her door, and her father’s voice—“Dinner, sweetie.” Kareen put her hand briefly over the mouthpiece. “Be there in a second.” Returning to the phone, she added, “Robert…it was good to hear from you.” "You too. And. . .Kareen?" "Yes?" "I'm. . ." He let it hang in the air. "Nevermind. Bye Kareen." And then he hung up before she could say anything more. Kareen frowned as she stared at the phone, wondering what that was about, what he had been about to say. Finally shaking her head in confusion and defeat, she hung up and went to have dinner with her family. Present day Of course, the very next day, news of Susanna’s murder had gone public, and Kareen had made the decision to come back to Riverview to finish the case. She was nervous about working with Robert again, considering the tensions between them after they’d broken up. Hopefully, they could put that behind them, for the sake of the case. And then hopefully I won’t come to regret this. The station looked nothing like what she remembered, but she wasn’t going to complain about the improvements. She wondered if the ideas for the changes had been Robert’s, or if Amy had done it before she’d retired. Either way, it looked nice. Pulling into a parking space and shutting off the engine, Kareen looked back to her children. “Guys, I don’t want any fighting, or bickering, or arguing while we’re here, okay? Behave yourselves.” The comment was mostly directed at Jenna, of course, but Kareen had not missed the angry looks her daughter had been throwing her way ever since they’d left the house, and she didn’t want to start anything else by singling Jenna out. “Let’s go inside.” Here we go... @spycoder9 OOC: Apologies for the length.
IC: Chris Nichols Nichols' Household Why did his son have to be do difficult? He knew he should have gone after him or at least attempted to smooth over the situation, but he remained in the open doorway of the bedroom and watched as he stormed from the house. Was it wrong to feel so apathetic over the whole thing? He knew Naomi would be there to pick up the pieces, in fact, he already caught her observing the argument from the hallway. Chris knew he could only rely on her for so long before she grew tired of this game as well. And then what? Would she side with him or end up turning on him to be with Eric? Sighing out of frustration, Chris slowly emerged from the guest room and avoided the stairwell, deciding that it would probably be wise to allow Naomi to cool off a little bit before confronting her. In fact, he probably had to cool off a bit himself. Both his wife and the boxes that still needed to be carried into the house could wait for now. For the time being, he made his way down the hallway and stopped at his study. He had set up the computer and most of his files earlier that morning and what better way to try and wind down than going over a few figures and continuing work on his thesis, which was all preparation for the project that was being setup at the college. Booting up the computer, he slumped down behind the desk and rubbed at his temples to relieve some of the tension before getting to work. TAG: @tjace, @spycoder9
IC: Gordon Gibson Near Town Center N.E.I.S.C.A. Office (New England Investigation and Security Consultant Agency) Gordon watched the young man, who currently sat gnawing on his lip across from him, and wondered what the boy would do if he ever did find whoever killed his mother or his grandmother. His thoughts were interrupted by a high pitch whistle. Getting up and walking to the small counter on the right side of his office. Gordon poured his guest a cup of tea and fixed one for himself before returning to his seat. He took a sip and savored the flavor for a moment before setting it down. “Mr. Crane… Alex. I understand what you’re feeling. My mother was taken from me at a young age too. I know what you’re going through. I am glad you still wish for me to continue this investigation, and rest assured I will stop at nothing to find this killer.” Gordon was silent a moment as he thought of everything he had already done to catch this serial killer, and shuddered slightly. He was in it too deep to just let it go. He would see it through to the end. “As for clues or leads, I’m afraid the Police had the crime scene secured. I managed to get some pictures from a telephoto lens, and I visited it after the police had left. I have a few leads from that.” Gordon mentally prepared himself in case Alex lashed out at him for the next bit of information. “I have to tell you something Mr. Crane. On the day your grandmother was killed I had a conversation with her. She indicated she had found out what had happened to her daughter, your mother, but she would not tell me. She insisted that she was going to go to the police the next day. Two hours after our conversation she was killed.” Gordon pressed on. “You now know more about the meeting then the police do, but I expect them to come question me today. I am very sure they will demand everything I have on the case, and I will comply because it’s the law. Hopefully I can get some information out of them as well.” Gordon leaned forward in his chair. “What this means is that soon the police will know that Susanna Crane knew what happened to Natalie. They will start looking through her belongings, searching for whatever information she had. Any files she may have kept and her computer, if they haven’t already.” “Do you know if your grandmother had anyplace she would have hidden something, or someone she would have trusted enough to hold that kind of information?” "No don't answer. I'll call you after I have talked to the police." Gordon stood and escorted Alex to the door. “Don’t worry Mr. Crane, well find the answers.” A few minutes later Gordon pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. The phone was a prepaid disposable one that he had gotten a town over. He had given a kid two hundred dollars to go into the cell store and buy the cheapest prepaid cell they had. “It’s Mr. Black. I need you to get me copies of everything you have on the Susanna Crane murder. Drop them at the usual place.” "Calling me at work? What the hell! And getting the President to come visit you would be easier than getting that file!" He sighed. "What if I got caught? Then you wouldn't-" “That’s just fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure your boss would love to receive these pictures I have. Or would you rather I send the pictures to the local gazette? I’m sure channel 9 would like to have them too…” “Fine. Back off. I’ll do it.” “That’s what I thought. Drop them at the same place as last time. Fifteen hundred hours. Nice doing business with you Officer.” Gordon ended the call, and took a drink of his tea. "Damn. Cold." TAG: @spycoder9
IC: Maisy-Jane Reed Riverview Medical Centre, Floor One, Emergency Room Maisy visibly bristled at Dr Ashburn’s words. What the hell was with his attitude? He was the one who had asked her here, he was the one who wanted her help and input. Yes she knew that the hospitals B negative blood supply was precious, but did he want his patient to bleed to death? Adrenaline was pumping though Maisy’s system now and coupled with the sudden shock she had experienced, she had to fight to keep her emotions in check. Thankfully, before she shared a selection of rather choice words with the older doctor, The nurse who had been sent to fetch her entered the room again, this time she held a small container holding the valuable bags of blood. Maisy looked riled as the older man mumbled under his breath like some petulant child, but she quickly dragged her attentions away from the older doctor and her expression lost some of its edge as her brown eyes fell back onto the prone form of her mother. The doctors inserted a cannula into her arm and connected the blood bag to it, hanging it up and allowing it to flow. Ashburn then sighed and looked back at her “Now we need to stitch some of the wounds up. Perhaps you should just tell us about any special precautions we need to take with her, and then try to find out who she is.” Maisy blinked, incredulous. Now he was just going to send her away? She also didn’t want to leave her mothers side but what could she do? She struggled to find an excuse, inwardly conflicted. She opened her mouth to say something, but it never came out. She fixed Ashburn with a steely glare, and after a few seconds she finally found her voice again “Like I said, Doctor…“ She emphasized the word doctor, with a hint of anger “…Internal bleeds and Haemorrhaging” Ashburn got to work prepping his utensils, cleary done with talking to the irate intern. Maisy’s gaze lingered on her mother for a few long moments, swallowing down the lump in her throat she slowly turned on her heel and walked towards the doors. She felt dazed as the doors swung closed behind her. Looking down at her gloved hands, the sight of the blood that stained them was dark against the pale white latex, and it served as stark reminder of just what sort of situation she now found herself in. Quickly stripping off both the gloves and the apron she threw them into the designated disposal canister, but instead of heading straight to the waiting room to see if she could find a police officer, She hurried to the nearest female staff bathroom. She found it empty as she entered. Entering a stall, she closed the door behind her and slumped against it, letting out a shaky breath, the adrenaline that had been keeping her going ebbed away quickly, leaving her feeling unsteady and a little dizzy as her mind reeled. Holding her head in her hands, she cursed multiple times as she tried to process what was happening. Why her mother was lying in a critical condition down the hall… This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to be here! How did she manage to leave New Hampshire without anyone noticing? Maisy would make it a priority to find out. Oh crap…had she been neglecting her medication? What if she had been drinking prior to the crash? If she pulled though she would be in so much trouble from the authorities for causing the RTA. Letting out a ragged breath she rubbed her temples. She should have told Dr Ashburn who he was treating…but she just couldn’t do it… What was so going to do. She needed to think, think! “Oh Mom, have you any idea what the hell you’ve done?” TAG: @spycoder9
IC: Naomi Nichols Nichols home ... I’m at least going to see him off. And there he goes. Eric blew out of the house like a summer thunderstorm, punctuated by the thunder of the slamming door. What, so he’s mad at me now, too? Was I supposed to come to his rescue, roaring like a mama bear? He should know by now that getting in a shouting match with his father never works, for anyone. Naomi peeked in on Chris, who seemed to be avoiding the issue by burying himself in work. So, it’s up to me. I get to play the peaceful mediator. Chris would keep, she needed to go see to their son for now. “Hey,” she said to her husband, “I’m going to go try and catch him. We can talk when I get back, alright?” Hopefully he wasn’t mad at her too. She walked outside to the driveway and cleared the boxes away from her car. I thought I had left family drama behind me when I left Riverview back then, but I just exchanged one for another. As she pulled out of the driveway, she dialed Eric’s cell, hoping he would pick up. TAG: @spycoder9 , @HanSolo29
June 13thRiverview, Maine Main Highway Near Town Center Eric answered the phone, but only for a snap second - “Mom, give me some space. You and pop made your point.” - and then he hung up. Once Naomi had exited their Naomi and hit one of the main highways running through Riverview, traffic was backed up bad. Apparently there had been a pile up some bit down the road. And, if she happened to get out of her car or try very hard to peek at the cars involved in the crash, she might see her son’s car resting in a ditch, the front smashed in. Ambulances, fire trucks, and police vehicles were parked every which way, transporting people and trying to get the cars moved out of the road. One sped by Naomi fast, lights flashing. Another passed, not going as fast. “Damn. . .” A middle aged man with a farmer’s hat and faded shirt shook his head in absolute shock. “What happened?” “That Mustang hit the little white car head on, and then the cars behind them didn‘t hit the breaks fast enough.” A young woman in a business suit and sunglasses stood outside of her car, tapping her foot angrily. “Apparently the woman in the white car’s in pretty bad shape.” “What about the guy driving the Mustang? Where’d he go?” The guy asked her. “They made him get on an ambulance. It looked like he didn’t want to, but I’m pretty sure he was in the one that just drove by.” The whole exchange would have been heard by Naomi, and another man who was stuck in traffic. Gordon had left the office once everything had been settled, and now he was stuck in traffic. It was especially irritating considering the fact that his file was being dropped off any second now, and he needed to get it. His disposable phone rang beside him. He would recognize the cellphone number as his contact’s. Riverview Police Station Lobby The moment Kareen walked into the lobby alongside her children, she would immediately notice something different. A secretary now worked there, and she typed away at her computer. As the door chimed, she glanced up and gave them all a pleasant smirk. Before she could even say a word, a woman with graying blonde hair and big blue eyes could be seen and heard laughing from down the hallway. She strolled down the hall, a cup of mocha coffee in her hand. “Lisa, any more news on-” The woman stopped mid-stroll as she noticed Kareen and her kids standing in the lobby. She wrinkled her brow for only a flash of second, and then she grinned. “Kareen? Kareen Gillis?” She laid her coffee down on Lisa’s desk and hugged Kareen. “You don’t look a day older than you did twenty years ago!” And Kareen would remember her now. Elizabeth Palmer hadn’t changed much as well. If anything, her beauty had become more refined and natural. “So these must be your kids!” She turned to the three kids. Jenna had her arms crossed, Aaron was almost jittery as he wanted to wander around the station, and Gracie hugged Kareen’s leg. “What a cute bunch.” She turned her attention back to Kareen, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe you went and had a life, Kareen!” Elizabeth laughed. “So did your husband come down for the summer?” Riverview Medical Center Floor One, Emergency Room The moment Maisy exited the women’s bathroom, she would notice a guy on a stretcher being passed by. “I am not hurt! Get me off this damn stretcher!” He kept shouting out the two men who were wheeling him down the halls. “Another person from the pile-up on the highway!” One of the ambulance men shouted to the nurse who had come to see that the stretcher got to them. “From what we can tell, he has a few lacerations that might need stitches. Not to mention some meds that’ll calm him down.” He grinned at that, but the man on the stretcher didn’t. “You get me off of here! I told you-” “Listen, you’re gonna get a few stitches, that’s all. Just be good for the nurse. You’ll be good to him, right Nancy?” “I’ll be gentle, Mr. . .Nichols, right?” The nurse, Nancy, smiled at him. “My pop’s Mr. Nichols. I’m Eric.” The ambulance men finally let him sit up on the stretcher. “I’ll come with you. . .I guess.” He smirked, much like his father did, and then winked at Nancy. She rolled her eyes. “Good luck.” The ambulance men chuckled as took the stretcher back to the ambulance. “Hey Maisy!” Nancy called to her across the room. “Could you help me stitch him up?” Most of the nurses were either busy with individual emergencies or dealing with Maisy’s mother. TAG: @tjace, @RepublicAnvil, @JediMasterAnne, @Jedi_Padawan_Leigh
Olivia Madder's New Horizons Nursing Home - Olivia Madders's Suite Olivia simply nodded as she smiled and nodded her head as she walked with her 'granddaughter'. “I’ll take good care for Rufus, grandma.” Belinda told her as they walked to her room, holding tightly on to Olivia, as Olivia walked slowly, with a hunch and slow walk. "Be careful now, he aint no spring chicken." Olivia told her. She really did miss Rufus, but there was no way he could be here. Besides, he would miss home. No reason for both of them to be in the mix of things. “I’ll feed him three times a day, and every night I’ll curl up by the fire while I’m studying and he’ll sit in my lap.” Belinda told her. “I’ll try to bring him up here too. I know they won’t let him in the building, but I’ll get them to help you outside so you’ll see him.” She turned to put the key card in the slide and opened the door. Olivia chuckled as they walk through the door of her new 'place.' She stopped when Belinda suddenly came to a halt. “Oh my god. . .how much money did that police officer give you?” she whispered. Olivia's eyes went wide as she looked around. These guys certainly werent being cheap. This place was fantastic! “That window is awesome! Look, you get a beach view. I wish I was old enough to live here.” Belinda shut the door behind them and laid the rest of Olivia’s things on the couch. “Look at that TV? And this couch is so soft!” Belinda laid down on it, and made ahh and ohh sounds as she absorbed the room. Finally she stood up. “Let me help you put your things up.” She walked to her bedroom and hung her clothes up, put everything else in the drawers. “Look at this bathroom! It’s like the size of your house!” Granite countertops, giant tiled shower with seat, and a new looking toilet. “If yours is this nice, then I wonder how luxurious that Sylvester guy’s is.” Olivia chuckled. "Oh Lordie. He probably has an entire floor to himself. He's certainly vain enough." she answered with a grin. She then leaned close to Belinda. "Dont worry about me child. Ya know I can's take care of myself. I'll be just fine." Olivia winked at her. "Now go one home, child. I'll be just fine. Just let this ole lady wander around a bit, and check my new home out. " Olivia gave Belinda a hug. "Remember to give Rufus a big ole hug from me. And tell him momma will be home soon." Olivia was a little nervous, but in truth, she wanted to get to work. She wanted to put the evil away. And this time, it would not come back. TAG: @Spycoder9
OOC: This is a joint post with spycoder! Thank you so much! IC: Chris Nichols Nichols' Household Chris was only partially aware of what Naomi had said and only managed a small nod to acknowledge her decision. It didn't appear as if he was entirely thrilled about the notion of her running off after their son, but she must have known better than to bring up the subject now. She left the room and let him be without a single protest. But even with the home now to himself, it did very little to help his progress. Numbers were blurring together and he couldn't gather his thoughts to even write one proper sentence. It was only after he deleted the words he had managed to type for the tenth time that he realized that things weren't working out and there was no point in even trying to continue until he was more relaxed. Sighing, he pushed the chair away from the desk and started to rise to his feet, but stopped as his gaze fell upon the lower right-hand drawer of the desk. There was no hesitation as he opened it and started to rummage underneath files and other scattered papers until he finally found what he was looking for - a packet of cigarettes. It was an emergency stash that he kept hidden for stressful situations in order to calm his nerves. In this particular case, he thought the argument with his son had qualified. Tucking the packet into his pocket, he grabbed a lighter and his cellphone and started down the stairs for the porch. It was only after he was outside and leaning against the railing with the cigarette in his mouth, that he realized why the situation had bothered him so much. It was eerily familiar to a confrontation he had with his own father before he had left home for good. *** 31 years earlier The Home of Joseph and Sandra Nichols New Rochelle, New York The piece of paper trembled between his fingers as Chris read the first few lines of the letter over and over to himself. He know by this point, he probably had a goofy grin spreading from ear to ear, but he didn't care. The news contained in this letter was the best thing he had heard in a very long time: Dear Christopher: Congratulations! I am pleased to inform you of your admission to the College of Arts and Sciences at Cornell University for the fall semester, 1981.Your admission to Cornell University is evidence of the Admission Committee's confidence in your potential, as well as recognition of your fine scholastic achievement and unique personal qualities. We believe you have much to contribute to the intellectual vitality and diversity... Chris stopped himself the fourth time through and took a deep breath as the weight of the whole situation started to sink in. He was still standing outside in the cool air of early Spring, making it no further than the mailbox when he had discovered that the letter had arrived. This letter was his ticket to freedom and an excuse to get away from his dysfunctional family. The only problem was, he hadn't told his parents of his intentions or that he had even applied to Cornell. As far as they were concerned, he had decided to go to a local college and that had been the end of it. Wait till they found out that he had gone against their advice to attend a school nearly halfway across the state. Actually, maybe he didn't want to think about that right now. He knew he had a chance to talk his mom into understanding his decision - it was his father that he was worried about. He was used to dealing with the harsh business world that surrounded him everyday and as a result, he came across as hard and very hostile. He was also quite set in his ways, which made trying to reason with him very difficult. Not to mention, he had a habit of physically expressing his anger instead of keeping it to himself. Chris had lost count how many times that had happened over the years, which was going to make this situation all the harder to explain. His only hope was getting to his mother first. Inhaling deeply, Chris stared back at the house as he neatly folded the letter and placed it into his coat pocket. He then started for the door. Oddly enough, right when Christopher made his way to the front door, his hand outstretched to the doorknob, it swung open. Sandra Nichols was standing there with a pitcher of water, preparing to water her plants. She skidded to a stop before running right into her son, but once the initial shock subsided, she smiled. “Chris.” She walked past him, bending over the porch to pour some of the water on her budding roses. “Your father went to the grocery store to pick up some things. We’re having lobster tonight. Special treat for Christa being picked for head cheerleader of the team. She just tried out yesterday, and they already called about it. They must have wanted to lock her in.” "Oh, that's...nice..." he muttered, his tone lacking any kind of enthusiasm as he watched his mother work at her plants, his eyes unfocused as if in a daze. It might have even been bordering on sarcasm, but in light of everything that had happened today, he just didn't care. His sister had always been the object of his parent's affections and she had always garnered all the attention. To be quite frank, he was sick of it. What he had to tell them today would hopefully change all of that...if only for a short while. Fingering the folded sheet of paper in his pocket, he stepped forward beside his mother and idly started playing with a leaf to one of her planets with his free hand. At least his father wasn't home - that was one thing he had going for him. He would need to tell him eventually, of course, but it was better to ease into things. Clearing his throat, he went right at it. "Mom," he started slowly, focusing on the leaf that was clenched between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to avoid eye contact with her. "Can we go inside? There's, uh...something I need to tell you." Sandra noted something in the tone of his voice and rose from her watering. "Sure. . ." She followed him inside, a puzzled look on her face. "Chris, what is it?" When he didn't say anything, she shut the door behind her and made sure he was looking at her. "You're scaring me. What is going on?" The worried look on her face told him that at least someone still cared. That's what made this all the more difficult to reveal to his mother. It wasn't so much about getting in trouble, but a sense of betrayal. He would be leaving her behind to cope with his father and that could always lead to disaster. He had to shake that thought from his mind and keep reminding himself that he was doing this for his future. Still without speaking, Chris reached into his pocket and took out the letter. He stared at it for a long moment before handing if off to her. "That came today," he said simply, allowing her to read the words for herself. With shaky hands, Sandra took the letter. Her eyes scanned over it, slowly getting bigger as the words processed. Finally her eyes rose from the paper and met her son's. "I don't understand." She shook her head, laying the letter on a side table. "I thought. . .I thought you were. . .you can't be considering this! Your father and I understood you would be going to a college around here! What. . .I don't even know what is going through your mind that would make you want to go to Cornell." She turned away from him, running a hand through her hair. "You know your father won't be happy about this. Sneaking around our backs was bad enough. But you completely ignored any advice we gave. I. . .I really don't know what to say." Chris slapped his hand down on the letter as soon as his mother set it down and drug it to the edge of the counter before returning it to his pocket. "Then don't say anything," he spat back without even thinking. It came out much more hostile than he would have liked and he sighed as he turned away with a wince. That hadn't exactly gone as well as he would have liked and now he had to focus on smoothing things over before his father got home. Breathing in again, he turned back to his mother and looked her straight in the eye. "Look, I appreciate what you were trying to do - wanting me to stick close to home and everything, but that's not what I want. It's not what's best. I want to be successful once I'm out of school, mom, and staying around here to attend some community college isn't going to cut it. I'll be wasting my time. I'm better than that." He shrugged, gradually getting into the other issue at hand. "Plus, don't you want me to have the experience of living away from home for awhile?" “You don’t understand what goes on at college, especially if you’ll be living by yourself!” Sandra walked into the living room and sat down on a couch, staring out of a window. “They’ll be parties, and drinking, and women. . .” She shook her head. “You’ll get a girl pregnant, and you’ll bring it home and want me to raise it. I’ll end up raising my grandchild while you’re off partying. . .” She put her face in her hand. “I need a glass of wine. And possibly two more when your father gets home. Or three. How ever many it takes to knock me out so that I won’t have to watch.” "Looks like I have your support," he bit out sarcastically as he turned away from where his mother sat upon the couch. "Thanks, mom. Thanks a lot." He didn't even bother to go in after her - what was the point if that's the way she felt? The person who he had thought would understand was blowing it way out of proportion. And of course, if things had been reversed and it was Christa standing in his shoes right now, they would be lining up behind her to sing her praises. It made him absolutely sick. "It's good to know you have complete faith in me. Haven't you actually stopped to think that maybe I'm serious? I know what college is like, mom. I don't need you lecturing me about it. I've made up my mind..." "You've made up your mind. . ." She just shook her head. "There's really nothing else I can say, other than you better be preparing for-" "Sandra! I crushed a few eggs coming out of the grocery store!" Joseph Nichols' loud voice boomed throughout the home. "You said you only needed seven, so-" He rounded the corner to the living room just at that time, and noticed how tense things looked between his wife and son. His voice faded, then stopped. "What's going on?" "Your son is going to college at Cornell University." "What?!" Joseph whirled around to look at his son. "Tell me your mother has misunderstood." Chris froze and got unusually quiet, like he always did at the sound of his father's voice. He had never been good at facing his father, especially when he was angry, but this situation was different. If he ever wanted to get anywhere, he had to make a stand. Glaring a final time at his mother, he closed his eyes momentarily and inhaled deeply before turning to face his father. "Look for yourself," he said matter of factly, reaching once more for the letter he had stashed away in his pocket. An awkward silence followed and he quickly hurried the conversation along to try and defend himself. "I, uh, don't see why it's such a big deal...you'd think you'd want me out of the house. And, uh...it's something I want to do, for a change..." “I don’t know why we even try with you!” His father shouted, and Sandra visibly flinched. “Any advice we give you, anytime we try to help you, you go out of your way to do the opposite. So what, you’re moving out? Tired of living with the boring parents? Want to go party at college? Get arrested?” "You know what? **** you, dad." His heart instantly skipped a beat and caught in his throat as soon as he said it. He knew it had been the wrong thing to say, but he just couldn't help himself. It slipped. It probably came from years of this same kind of abuse from him and this crusade to seemingly put him down at every turn and discourage him. Well, no longer. "Why can't you admit that maybe you're not right all the time?" he continued on, his voice now visibly shaking. "I need to make my own decision in this and maybe you're 'advice' to go to a community college isn't what I want. It's wrong!" "What did you say to me?" Joseph stepped towards his son, his eyes seemingly on fire. "What the hell did you say to me?" Sandra leaped off from the couch, putting her hand on her husband's chest. "Joseph," Her voice was tense, "He didn't mean it-" Joseph put his hand on her chest and shoved her away. She fell back on her bottom, and sat there in dull shock. "Don't you dare keep me from disciplining my own son." Joseph growled at Sandra, who stayed on the floor instead of trying to interfere any more. Then he turned his attention back to his son, and his brows were furrowed even more than before. "Now, Chris, what did you say to me?" Chris stared at his mother resting on floor, unmoving and in shock after his father had pushed her into that position. At this point, it was no longer about him and whether he was capable of winning this argument. He no longer cared about himself after seeing this...monster take out his anger on her. It wasn't her fault. He stared at his father for a long moment, breathing heavily, as he took in his twisted features. It was a look that was all too familiar to him. Only this time, he had the courage to stand up to it. "Don't touch her," he said in a quiet growl, totally ignoring his question as his eyes flicked back and forth between the angry mask of his father and his helpless mother looking on. "She didn't do anything wrong. Neither did I. All I want is to go to college...and get away from you." "Then GO!" Joseph shouted, pointing to the door. "Get your damn things and get out of my house!" For the first time since the confrontation began, Chris was visibly shaking. His mouth hung open with surprise and his expression dropped as he looked frantically between his parents, hoping that either his father would change his mind or his mother would come to his rescue. He was sure his feeble attempt at explaining himself wasn't going to help the situation. "B-But..." he stammered, obviously struggling to form words. "I-I don't leave for another few months...I-I don't have anywhere---what about money? You can't just throw me out there without any support! I'm still in school!" The silence from his mother was killing him and this time, he vocally reached out to her. "Mom! He can't do this! Don't let him do this!" "I'll give you money! Move in with some friends and party. Live a little." Joseph's voice oozed with sarcasm as he yanked out his wallet and began to toss his money at Chris's feet. "First you don't take my advice, then you shout at me? You shout at me?!" "Joseph. . .isn't. . .isn't that a little-" Joseph whirled around on his wife, who had stumbled up from the floor and was trying to back out of the room. "You shut your mouth. This boy needs some discipline, and I'll be damned if you try to stop me from giving it." He finished taking out several hundred dollar bills and threw them at Christopher. "Go! Get your bags and get out!" The bills piled up at his feet and he couldn't help but wonder if this was some sort of trap. His father had always been cunning and he wouldn't put it past him to try something like this. He could see it now - as soon as he would reach for it, he would come down on him...hard. Chris wasn't about to fall for it. He'd get by somehow, whether that be by staying with his uncle or finding a friend, he would manage. "On second thought, I changed my mind." Glaring at his father, he kicked out his foot and sent the bills flying. "I don't want your hand-outs. In fact, I don't want anything from you anymore, you hear me?" He started to push past him for the stairs in order to gather his things, but at the last minute, turned to confront him a final time. "And if you really wanted to know what I said, I said **** you." Without waiting for the inevitable backlash, Chris ran up the stairs and out of sight. *** Present Day Recalling the memory, Chris winced and slammed the butt of the cigarette into the railing, putting it out. He hadn't bothered to talk to his parents for years after he left the house that day. They hadn't known that he had even attended college or that he had met and married Naomi. They didn't even know that he had been living in Riverview until the town nearly tore his family apart and he had finally decided to go home...after nearly 12 years. He didn't want that to happen to Eric, regardless of how much he disapproved of his decisions. But the thing that scared Chris the most was how much he was truly like his father. He had spent all those years trying to distance himself from the man when he had been a part of him all along. No wonder Eric took off. Well, hopefully Naomi had it under control and would find him. For now, there was other work to be done. Pushing away from the railing, Chris followed the walkway around the side of the house to the driveway in order to finish bringing in the boxes from the car. As he did so, he kept a constant eye on his cellphone...just in case. TAG: @spycoder9 OOC: And apologies for the length!
IC: Maisy-Jane Reed Riverview Medical Centre, First Floor, Emergency Room Within the confines of the women’s bathroom, Maisy splashed some cold water onto her face and blew out a breath to steady herself. Looking into the mirror, she sighed and grabbed a few paper towels, drying off the excess water from her face and hands. She had to calm down. The way she had spoken to Dr Ashburn may have been out of line… he may have been a condescending ass, but that condescending ass was currently working to save her mothers life…the pang of worry and concern radiated out deep inside of her. But there was also another emotion…Guilt? She had to find a way to protect her, but until she worked out what she was going to do, As hard as it was going to be, she just had to go on as normal. Easier said than done, all things considering…Taking in another deep breath, she reached up and pushed the door open once more, the solitude of the bathroom replaced by the noise and chaos of the E.R. As she stepped out back into the hallway, the sound of yelling and protest caught her ear, and her brown eyes fell on a stretcher being pushed down the hall. A young man who looked to be around the same age as her was being wheeled into the E.R by paramedics. Though he wasn’t happy about it as he insisted he was fine to the nurse who had approached the stretcher upon his arrival. Nancy, she recalled. Nancy reassured the man with a sweet smile “I’ll be gentle, Mr. . .Nichols, right?” Maisy’s eyes flashed as she silently watched the exchange between the pair. “My pop’s Mr. Nichols. I’m Eric….I’ll come with you. . .I guess.” The paramedic left then, and Maisy’s eyes narrowed a fraction. She suppressed the urge to scowl as the young man smirked and shot a flirty wink at her colleague. She wondered if this display of manly bravado would continue once she started sticking needles in him. In her experience, men were usually the worse patients when it came to this sort of thing. She was pulled out of her thoughts as Nancy’s voice caught her ear “Hey Maisy! Could you help me stitch him up?” “Uh…yeah sure..” She replied, slightly distracted. Pulling herself back together, she walked over towards the bedside and stood beside the nurse. Looking down at the loud-mouthed man she sighed “Mr…Nichols? I’m doctor Reed. Please cooperate with my colleagues, You say you feel fine but you have just been in a serious accident, you could have a delayed reaction to shock” She said as she eyed him with a slightly steely gaze. Looking him over, she noticed he had a few cuts to his face and many scrapes on his arms. There would no doubt be bruising and he would definitely be sore for a couple of days. There was a gash on his chin, and one across the bridge of his nose. His lip was bust and a deeper and larger cut marred his forehead above his left eye. “Ok…we can apply butterfly strips to the smaller lacerations, but his forehead is going to need suturing. ” She said quietly to Nancy as she picked up the notes provided by the first response paramedics, she scanned the data within quickly. They had cleared him for concussion and there was nothing in the medical assessment that indicated he suffered any allergies or had anything of note in his medical history. Nodding in approval, Maisy set the notes to one side and walked over to a supply drawer, retrieving and pulling on a fresh set of sterile gloves, as well as picking up sealed and sterile equipment and implements needed to clean his wounds and administer the stitches. As she did so, Nancy turned on a bedside light and angled it to help her see his wounds better, before she proceeded to carefully clean his cuts and scrapes. Maisy took this time to prepare a shot of local anaesthetic to numb his forehead. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but it would be preferable to no numbing agent at all. Her gaze fell back onto Eric and she seemed to study his face for a few moments, a curiousness in the depths of her eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared “I need to give you a shot of local anaesthetic. It may feel uncomfortable, but just remember to breathe. If you start feeling sick or faint at any point, tell us” She told him as she tilted his head back carefully to get a better view of the deep cut in the light. “Alright…here we go” She said quietly as she picked up the needle. With practiced precision she then proceeded to inject the numbing agent carefully into the skin around his wound. Once it was completely numb, she could start the sutures. TAG: @spycoder9
OOC: Combined with spycoder9 IC: Kareen Gillis Riverview Police Station Lobby Her brow furrowed briefly in confusion until she recognized Elizabeth Palmer, and happily returned the embrace, flushing lightly as Elizabeth gushed over her and the kids. “It’s good to see you, too, Elizabeth.” “So did your husband come down for the summer?” Kareen grimaced, shaking her head. “Um…no, the ex-husband did not come. Didn’t Robert tell you I was divorced? So it’s just me and the kids.” "Oh, I have been great! Feels like things are finally starting to go my way!" She laughed, her smile unusually big. "But now that you mentioned it, Robert might've said something about a divorce. He doesn't speak too much about you, other than you were coming down with kids." Kareen smiled, bending to gently pry Gracie off of her leg. "I'm glad to hear that things are going well for you." She glanced around, her smile fading just slightly. "Looks like there have been a lot of changes around here since I left." "They're great aren't they! When Robert became chief he made tons of changes! This lobby right here," She gestured around. "Pretty much designed all of it myself. He designated individual areas of the department to some of the higher officers, just to add a few personal touches." "It's nice," Kareen told her. Nervously slipping a strand of red hair behind her ear, she finally asked, "...Is Robert around? I wanted to go ahead and get my paperwork taken care of, so hopefully I can get started first thing tomorrow." The sooner we get started, the sooner we can hopefully get done. "He's in his office. If you want, I'll watch your kids while you go back there." She rubbed Aaron's hair. The little boy bit his lip as if he was about to say something, but didn't. "Thanks, but that won't be necessary," Kareen told her, taking Gracie by the hand. For now, she preferred to keep her children where she could see them. "You don't trust me with them?" Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, and then, before Kareen could begin to search for Robert's office, she did a brisk walk down a hallway. "I'll show you to his office." Slightly put off by Elizabeth’s comment, Kareen had been about to explain that it wasn’t anything personal, but Elizabeth didn’t give her a chance. Holding Gracie’s hand and gently steering Aaron by the shoulder, with Jenna trailing behind, she quietly followed Elizabeth down the hall—now, she was beginning to notice how much bigger the station seemed. Once they reached the end of several hallways, Elizabeth knocked three times and then opened the door. "Robert," she used his first name, Kareen might have noted, "Kareen Gillis is here. She said she needed to speak to you about paperwork." Kareen again found herself overwhelmed with that butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling. Just relax. It’ll be fine. She took a deep breath, hoping Elizabeth didn’t notice how nervous she was, then quietly stepped just inside the doorway. Sitting at his desk, Robert Long looked almost exactly as she remembered him. She could see just the slightest signs of aging around his eyes and mouth, but otherwise he appeared unchanged. It took her a few moments before she could even get a simple greeting out. “…Hello, Robert.” "Kareen!" Robert leaped up from his chair and made his way around his bulky desk. Elizabeth was eyeing both of them with a frown on her face, arms crossed in a form similar to Jenna. Robert stepped in front of her and awkwardly gave her a hug. Once they broke apart, he looked into her face. "If you didn't have those three kids in tow, I would of thought you hadn't aged a bit." The hug surprised her a little, but she returned it nonetheless. Again flushing at the compliment, she smiled when they broke apart. "It's good to see you, Robert." "Well, introduce me to the kids!" He smiled at each of them. Jenna and Aaron were eyeing them curiously, trying to gauge what his and their mother's relationship exactly had been. Gracie was smiling at him, though she still stayed close to Kareen. She gently reached over to nudge Jenna forward a bit from where the teenager was hiding behind her. "This is my eldest, Jenna, and of course my son, Aaron." She placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "And Gracie is my youngest." She ran a hand over Gracie's hair. "Guys, this is Robert. He was my partner when I worked here a long time ago." Hopefully that would deter any prying questions about exactly how they knew each other. "Wow, they all look so much like you, Kareen." Robert shook his head, laughing. "Especially that little one." Then he decided to address the uncomfortable topic of their partnership. "Yeah, me and your mom used to ride in our police cruiser and chase after criminals together." "Cool!" Aaron seemed to be the most interested in Robert. "What else did Mom do before she got old?" Even Jenna snickered at that. "Hey!" Kareen made a face and mussed her son's hair, rolling her eyes and shaking off the comment. Kids said the darndest things, and her own were no exception. "Goofy kid..." Turning to Robert, she sobered quickly. "I imagine you've got a stack of paperwork for me to fill out, so how about we get that started?" "Sure, sure." Robert glanced to the doorway, where Elizabeth was propped up. She made no effort to show her discomfort and anger. "Um. . .Elizabeth, if you could us a few moments together. . ." "I was about to head out to the highway anyway." Elizabeth kissed him once on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight at seven, right?" "Of course." Robert was visibly uncomfortable being in the same room with an old girlfriend and a new one. After Elizabeth had walked out and shut the door, Robert tried to smile at Kareen. "You only have a few papers to fill out. Nothing much." He brought out several papers and laid them in front of her, all of the needed spaces to sign having been underlined in a highlighter. "Have you taken the kids to the beach yet? It's supposed to be pretty nice this whole week." Kareen's brow furrowed at the brief conversation between Robert and Elizabeth, and was quietly surprised when Elizabeth kissed Robert's cheek, but she didn't say anything, and when Robert did not elaborate after Elizabeth left, Kareen didn't pry. Taking a seat at the desk and beginning to fill out the papers, she shook her head at his question. "Not yet, we just got into town a few hours ago, but I did promise them that I would take them on one of my days off, once we get settled in. "Have you spoken to Amy since you and I talked last?" Kareen had wondered and worried a bit about her former boss over the last couple of weeks; when Kareen had left Riverview twenty years ago, Amy had still been mourning the death of her son Xander, and Kareen had felt terribly guilty leaving at such a time. At some point this summer, she wanted to possibly stop by and just spend some time catching up with her, and she also thought Amy might like to meet the kids. "Does she know that I'm back?" "I spoke to her just the other day. We both happened to be at the grocery store, and I mentioned to her that you were coming to town. She lives in that same cabin, if you want to stop by and see her." Robert took each paper after she had finished it, adding it to a stack. "Mathew Clinton came in today asking about you." He glanced at the kids, but they hadn't perked up at the name, so he guessed they didn't know all the details. "I told him you were in town, and that you might be able to meet him tomorrow where we can finally. . .air out the past." She saw how he glanced over towards her children at the mention of Clinton, but, preferring not to share specifics on the case with the kids, Kareen had only given them a very vague explanation as to why they were going to Riverview. "I was about to ask about him. At least it sounds like he still wants to talk--Aaron, honey, don't touch anything." Her son was wandering about, checking out the office. "And yeah, tomorrow should be good, if Asumi is still willing to sit with the kids." "Already called her." He smirked as he watched Aaron run around the office looking at things. "She's more than happy to do it." Something fell off a shelf and hit the carpet with a bang. It didn't break, but Aaron whirled around to his mother and Robert, eyes panic stricken as he awaited punishment. Kareen looked up from the paperwork to give her son a firm look. "What did I just say? Put it back where it was, please. And don't touch anything else." Looking to Robert: "Sorry about that. "I'll probably call her later to iron out the details." "Don't worry about him. All this stuff in here's junk anyway. I was ‘advised’ to have it well decorated." He shook his head. "Not like I asked for their opinion. Anyway, here's Asumi's number." He tore a sheet out of his notepad, scribbled down a number, and handed it to her. Kareen tucked the piece of paper into her purse, then quickly signed the last form--she had to keep reminding herself to sign her name 'Gillis' and not 'Carver,' as she had been for the last fifteen years--and pushed it across the desk to Robert. "So..." She suddenly found herself at a loss for what to say next. There was one question that begged asking, but she was not yet comfortable asking too many personal questions after not seeing him or talking to him in twenty years. Finally giving up on small talk, she kept to business talk. "When can I talk to Clinton tomorrow? Did you give him a particular time?" "Does lunch sound good?" "That works." That way, she would have a little time in the morning to work on unpacking and organizing some of the stuff at the house. "I'll make sure he's here." He stood from his desk and opened the door for them. "It's nice to have you back in town, Kareen." He seemed to want to say something more, but couldn't. She rose from the chair and took Gracie and Aaron both by the hand. Jenna had been leaning against a wall the entire time, arms crossed and staring impatiently at the ceiling, and she quietly fell into step behind her mother. Kareen paused at the doorway. "It's nice to be back, Robert." She wasn't sure how honest she was being about that, but she wasn't about to tell him that. “See you tomorrow.” Leading the kids back to the car, Kareen gave Aaron only a brief scolding about doing what he was told and not touching things that didn’t belong to him. He hadn’t broken anything, and Robert hadn’t seemed too bothered, so she didn’t make a big deal about it. As they were walking to the car, Kareen spotted Elizabeth sitting in her car—I thought she left? Furthermore, she seemed to be glaring at Kareen. For a moment, Kareen wondered why, but remembering how Elizabeth had kissed Robert on the cheek, she began forming her own suspicions. It wasn’t much of a secret anymore that Kareen and Robert had dated at one point, and the collapse of their relationship was part of the reason Kareen had left. If Kareen’s suspicions were correct, and Elizabeth and Robert were dating now, then it might explain Elizabeth’s sudden hostility towards her—Kareen didn’t remember Elizabeth being like this twenty years ago. But she also thought that Elizabeth’s behavior was more than a little paranoid. Just coming out of a divorce, Kareen was not interested in another relationship, and considering that Kareen and Robert had never really cleared the air after they’d broken up, though they were perfectly polite to each other now, the chances of anything beyond a professional relationship seemed pretty slim. Especially if he found out about—don’t go there. He won’t find out. Chances are, we’ll only be here for the summer. Just a few months. He won’t find out in that time. After that, it’ll be back to Portland, and then I will never have to come back here again. Elizabeth, you’ve got nothing to worry about. TAG: @spycoder9
There is nothing like the sound of a vinyl record. It gives a full, rich sound, bathing your ears in nuances that an audio file just can’t process. If given the choice, who would look at Michelangelo’s work on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel on your computer screen over experiencing its ecstasy in person where you can bathe in its divine glory? Similarly, only imbeciles obsessed with modernity and the latest and greatest would fail to appreciate the warmth of a record as it spins music off into space. The imperfection of a skip here and there, a scratch…they were part of the experience. And when such things detracted from the enjoyment of the music, you could always get a new one. At least you could if you were Mordecai Casper. Mordecai had always had a deep, if private, appreciation of the Rolling Stones. In his day, you liked the Stones or the Beatles and he sure as hell was not going to get on the bandwagon with a bunch of screaming little girls who went nuts over their moptop hair cuts and later their hippy-dippy narcotic experimentations. That was what happened when you got everything and had no discipline. You became drunk on your own power and fame and stopped making anything worthwhile. Half of “Hey Jude” was the same thing over and over again. It disgusted Mordecai that so many people thought that was one of the greatest songs ever written. Now Beggars Banquet—that was a masterpiece. Was it their most polished work? Hardly, but that was part of their glory. For all their own excesses, Jagger and Richards had genius and range and nowhere was that more evident than in the opening track. So daring, so provocative, so in-your-face and yet subtle. Yes, this was music that Mordecai Casper felt was worthy of his appreciation. Of course, given Mordecai’s current state of life, he felt like a rolling stone. Confined to a wheelchair, Casper Industries ignominiously wrested from him by his own kin (oh, kind words had been wrapped around the knife they’d stuck into his back in his weakness, but it cut all the same), Casper rarely left the grounds of his mansion anymore. There was no point in it. He had no business to take care of, no financial mountains to move, no empire to tend. His son Patrick had that all now. He had it all. One would think that Mordecai was destitute with thoughts like that. Hardly. His assets were impressive. They were enough to make many, many people happy. They did not make Mordecai happy though. He was a man of action, a man in motion…“was” being the operative word. Damn Susanna. This was her fault. She’d pushed him down the stairs in the middle of their fight. She’d condemned him to this shell of a life. He’d brought her into this world and that was how she repaid him. More than that, going out into Riverview would expose his infirmity to everyone. He had carefully hid his disability (what a disgusting word) from them. Imagine how they would crow knowing that the great Mordecai Casper was reduced to such weakness and dependency. No one could respect a man like that. And God forbid Nigel Sylvester should hear of it. Mordecai would rather die than have Sylvester crowing over him like that. Though if preferences were to come into the matter, he would rather that Nigel catch some incredibly painful, wasting disease that killed him and all his ilk. Leprosy wouldn’t be a bad candidate. Lupus could do it. But there was always the immediate satisfaction and artistry of a nuclear bomb destroying the whole brood in one go. That had a definite appeal. But the truth was that there was indeed life outside of his estate, as much as Mordecai Casper tried to remove himself from it through Olympian detachment. Why it was that the fates of inferior men could intersect so much with the destinies of great men? Such an annoyance. Mordecai roused himself from unadulterated, uninterrupted appreciation of the Stones. There was something he needed to take care of. He rolled himself to his sturdy dark desk and opened the second drawer from the left. He lifted the contents out onto the blotter and removed the false bottom of the drawer, revealing one of his stashes of emergency funds. Mordecai always thought it was good to be prepared with hard currency in the event of an unexpected occurrence. It was not the only stash in the mansion, but it was the only one with a small Moleskine notebook in it. There were certain numbers that it was better not to keep in ones Rolodex. With careful and slow precision, Mordecai picked out each number on the ancient rotary phone he kept on his desk. When he attended to business he didn’t want servants or secretaries to interfere. He waited patiently during the ringtone. He had not troubled himself to turn the stereo down. Eventually the other party clicked in. “Good afternoon. Mordecai Casper,” he stated simply. They were well acquainted. “I have use of your services. I assume they are similarly priced?” “The administration must do something about inflation. It’s just murder on those of us on fixed incomes.” Mordecai smiled at the response on the other end of the call and then his face returned to its natural downward curve suggesting a frown. “I would be ever so obliged if you would make a house call. I assume you still do in these modern times?” “Oh excellent. I will see you then.” Mordecai hung up. As the Stones came to their conclusion, he was reminded of the fact that the B side of the record started with a bang as well. “Street Fighting Man”. Casper wheeled his way towards the record player.
June 13thRiverview, Maine Riverview Medical Center Floor One, Emergency Room Eric Nichols sat completely still as she stuck the needle in him, and didn’t even bother to say a sarcastic remark. It was hard, and he bit his lip the whole time, but once his body began to go numb, it was easier to hold back. Nancy handed her some of the stitches, letting her work on one or two of the wounds while she cleaned him. “That lady. . .” He mumbled through slurred speech, the uncomfortable pain slipping away by the second, “That older lady I hit. . .how is she doing?” “She’s in critical care at the moment.” Nancy smiled at him as she began to do some work. “You just need to worry about yourself for now. You’ve got some nasty scratches.” “Eh. . .” He grinned. “I’ve had. . .worse.” “Do you have any family we can contact and let know about you?” Nancy asked him as she finished one stitch up. Eric seemed to be thinking about it very hard, and then finally he nodded his head. “My mom. . .Naomi Nichols. She. . .just moved back to. . .to town.” He proceeded to give a number in a shaky voice. “I’ll go give this to the front desk.” She flashed a glance at Maisy. “I’ll hurry.” And then, like that Nancy had hurried off to give the number to the front. “So. . .so, how’s it g-going with the. . .stitches, doc?” He asked Maisy. New Horizons Nursing Home Olivia Madders' Suite “Fine, fine, I’ll go.” Belinda kissed her once on the cheek as she opened the door. “Just remember to stay safe.” With a final glance back at Olivia, she began to walk down the hallway. Once she had turned a corner, she was gone. Olivia was allowed only a few spare minutes in her new quarters before her phone began to ring. The speaker picked it up, and the secretary’s voice came over. “Ms. Madders,” She sounded so perky it was almost irritable. “I wanted to tell you of the events we were having for today.” She tsked as she looked for the date, and then she began to read them off. “At two-thirty, there will be games of chess and snacks in the gathering area. At five supper, comprised of tenderly chopped steak and a fresh baked potato, will be served in the cafeteria. You are welcomed to eat with everyone else, though you can bring your food back to your cabin. Tonight at seven a hometown performer will sing some of the oldies in the performance hall. We ask that everyone be in bed by ten.” The sound of a notebook being closed could be heard. “We thank you again, Ms. Madders for becoming a member of New Horizons Nursing Home family.” The phone cut off, and Olivia found that she had ten minutes until the chess and snacks began, if she wanted to go. TAG: @Jedi_Padawan_Leigh, @Ktala OOC: Others come tomorrow. School started back Monday, and I have been SUPER busy.
IC: Gordon Gibson Near Town Center Main Highway Gordon cursed as he pulled into the Bus station. He had been stuck in traffic behind a major pileup. Lots of ambulances and lots of cops. By the time Gordon got to the drop point, the bus station, it was almost dark. Stepping out of his car, Gordon glanced around looking for anything out of the ordinary, so far nothing. The station wasn’t overly crowded, but wasn’t deserted. Gordon made his way over to the lockers and pulled a key from his pocket. He opened locker ninety-four and reached inside. The locker was empty, as Gordon had known it would be. He hooked his finger into the loop on the back side of the locker and gave a tug. The back panel of the locker pulled free and Gordon reached in for the envelope that was in the locker on the other side. It was a large, thick manila envelope. Gordon hefted it and smiled, and replaced the panel in the locker. He closed it and put a quarter in and removed the key again. He doubted his contact in the department had enough brains to figure out the arrangement. The man was a drug addict, and a screw-up. Which was how it was easy to get the files. Gordon got back into his car and drove away. He headed for his apartment instead of the office so as to avoid the highway. He needed to go over what the police had and see if his plan was working. @spycoder9
IC: Maisy-Jane Reed Riverview Medical Center, Floor One, Emergency Room The young man was anxious, and Maisy could tell by his body language that he was feeling uncomfortable as she injected the anaesthetic, But so far he was managing to keep himself together. It didn’t take long for the numbing agent to take effect, so Maisy unwrapped a sterile suture from a sealed packet that Nancy handed her. Angling the light again slightly, she picked up her implements and proceeded to administer the stitches. She had a look of concentration on her face as she worked. Eric might feel a slight pulling sensation, but no pain. A few moments passed before Eric spoke up once more. His previous display of bravado had ebbed away a little and his words were a little slurred as he adjusted to the sensation of the anaesthetic “That lady. . .That older lady I hit. . .how is she doing?” Nancy answered his question, explaining that that “older lady he hit” was in critical care. Maisy had to fight to keep the growing feeling of anger that welled up inside her from showing in her face. Did he cause the accident? Was he the reason her mother was fighting for her life down the hall? She listened as Nancy reassured him and she almost gave in to the urge to scowl at her. His cuts and scrapes were nothing compared to what she was going through. She drew in a breath to try and calm herself, but it wasn’t easy. Things were already so complicated…she needed to get a straight answer about what had happened… Nancy’s voice cut through her bitter thoughts as she asked him for any next of kin contact details. He seemed to think hard for a few seconds before answering. “My mom. . .Naomi Nichols. She. . .just moved back to. . .to town.” He said, his voice shaky as her gave Nancy a contact number. His mom…Nancy glanced at her after she scrawled down the number “I’ll go give this to the front desk, I‘ll Hurry” Maisy just nodded in acknowledgement as she watched the pretty nurse turn on her heel and head quickly for the front desk. Eric’s voice caught her ear again and she turned her attentions back to him. “So. . .so, how’s it g-going with the. . .stitches, doc?” He asked Maisy. Despite her best efforts to appear passive, a slightly frosty look managed to surface in her brown eyes as her gaze fell back onto his face. Maisy finished off the last stitch in his forehead and placed the used equipment aside. She then took a piece of clean gauze and laid it over the stitches, carefully pressing it down before securing it into place with a few pieces of surgical tape. Letting out a soft sigh, she then picked up a strip of butterfly stitches and started to apply them to his smaller, shallower cuts “I’m Almost done. You may end up with a scar or two…but considering what has happened, you should count yourself lucky” Peeling off another stitch she pressed it against the cut on the bridge of his nose. She had to find out what had happened, and with Nancy gone she found it easier to pluck up the courage to ask the question. Whether or not she was fully ready to hear the answer, she wasn’t sure. But she had to try and get some answers. Picking up another strip she placed in again on his cut nose “So…if you don’t mind me asking…what exactly happened on the highway? It’s just the emergency room hasn’t had this many admissions in a long time…” TAG: @spycoder9
