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tamingthemuseTitle : Mahogany
Fandom : original work
Prompt 402 Restoration
Warnings : dead people ahead, first draft of a work in progress
Rating : PG13
Summary : it was a case like many others. Except it wasn't.
A/N : that would totally need to be reworked, if only because the continuity is a little bit deficient. (Part 1 - Part 2)
On our way back, Alexander and I discussed the impressions we had gotten from the interview. We both agreed on the main point : there was something they hadn't tell us, and if the head of the community had been called to monitor our dicussion, that something might affect the entire community.
Back at the station, we decided to split up for some time : while Alexander went around town to meet Agnes' identified friends and coworkers, I stayed at the office to do some research about the ranch and the community that was calling it home.
I'm rather good t reasearching. I had planned to go to journalism school after high shool, but life got in the way, and through a collection of occasions and experiences, had finally become a cop. But I was still as curious as a cat, and my ability to find things people would rather keep hidden had already helped us on many cases. I had the feeling that it would come in handy in these case as well.
What I found at first went along everything I had heard or witnesses myself a few years ago : Lupita's community had come into town when Juliana McAllister had sold her father's ranch to go and have a shining life in New York. The property wasn't in a good shape when Lupita had bought it, and the early community members spent their first few months putting everything up again. I remembered having heard my mom and one of her friends discussing it at the hair salon. Lupita had presented the restoration work as en exercise in team building, and had claimed it as the first step to make the place their own. The investement would be greater if they had worked to rebuilt what they had. At the time, that philosophy had seemed little more that hippie follies to the locals. There had been rumors of weed and other drug uses at the ranch, but no evidence were ever found. Sect and satanism gossips had gone the same way. Time had passed, and the community was now a part of the town life, not exactly considered as one of us, but not frowned upon as much as before either.
Administratively and legally, the community was clean, as far as the town was concerned. And since it didn't exist prior to their installation at the ranch, I would have to check every member separately if I wanted to have an idea of the past background of it. It seemed rather logical to begin with Lupita Lawson. Being the head of the community, and the first one to have come in town, she was the perfect beginning for a long and laborious background check.
An hour later, I realised it would take even longer than I expected. The information I found about Lupita Lawson were few and hadn't been available for more than twenty years. I had tracked a Lupita Lawson back in Lousiana, where she had told she was from, but her existence was more administrative than actual. The probability that it was her real name was weak.
When Alexander came back at the station, at the end of the day, he didn't have more information than I did.
"According to all the people I've spoken to today, the victim was a nice woman, and everybody liked her. If she had any bad side, she probably kept it to the community."
That didn't helped us at all.
I told what I had discovered during my researches. The community seemed to be a place for people to take a fresh start. None of the members I had looked for today, including Agnes, lived by his or her actual name. At this point, I coudn't tell if they had something to hide, of they merely try to get away from a unbearable past. We would need fingerprints or DNA to go any further, or maybe to run investigation where those people came from. We didn't had time for this. All we could do was to ring officials in their last known location, and hoped they could give us a hand.
Alexander and I divided up the list of names I had already checked between the two of us, and we made the necessary phone calls to try and get all the information we could gather. We wouldn't have any real answer before the next morning, and so we decided to call it a night. I was exhausted, and so was my partner. It had been a long day.
I am a bad planner. That's why I end up every single night at the local shop, purchasing my evening meal. I'm not much into take-out, even if I'm not the best of cooks. I prepare myself simple dishes, for which I'm incapable to plan ahead.
The shop was a little bit busier than usual when I got there. By the time I had gathered what I needed, a small queue of three persons was set before the counter. I recognized most of them : Mrs Galloway, the old lady who complained all the time her neighbor's dogs, was putting her items before the cashier, and Dylan Stanley, a kid I had already arrested twice for minor infractions, was standing right behind her, trying not to look too annoyed at the old lady's slowness. I didn't know the man right in front of me, though. He was rather tall and well-built, the kind of man one could see appearing in town around the summer to do seasonal work. He wasn't dressed fashionably, but conveniently, most likely from military overstocks.
"Trying on the local beer ?", I asked to start up a conversation, having seen a few of our local brew next to more generic Budweiser in his cart. The man looked back at me, and smiled an amused grin.
"I was feeling adventurous, tonight", he replied. "How much risk am I taking ?"
"Not much", I laughed. Our town was not famous for its brewery. "You can't say it anything special, one way or the other."
He shrugged. "Well, I'll still be able to say I've tried it."
"That way you're gonna make friends in town. You're there for the season ?"
"No, not really, I'm here for a short-time job", he replied, shrugging carelessly.
Mrs Galloway finished paying for her groceries, and Dylan put his own purchases on the counter. I didn't dare to ask to much question to the stranger in front of me. Being an officer didn't give me the right to put my nose in other people's life, even if it would be sometimes easier for me to do my job. I was vaguely aware of the fact the man's presence in town happened at the same time of Agnes' murder, but there was no reason to think they were linked. Coincidences happened.
"You're from around here yourself ?", he asked me then.
I nodded. "Yes, indeed. Local girl : grown up here, and stayed afterwards." I made a sheepish face. To most people, it sounded like I lacked ambition, but it wasn't ; I just liked it here. I had nonetherless internalized the habit to apologize for my life choice, and I hated it.
"It must be nice to have a place to call home", he said with philosophy, in a way that had me thinking he himself didn't have a home.
"I guess it is, even if there's downsides too", I replied, as Dylan exited the shop and the cashier salutated the newcomer. Amanda, who had been working at that counter for years, and was subsequently one of the persons I saw the most outside of work, adressed me a warm hello as well, with something in her smile that made me think she was up to something.
"It's the first I see you here, I think", she told her client boldly, while registering the items he was buying.
"That's because I haven't been here long", he replied with the same smile he had adressed to me.
"And you're already on Officer Johnson's radar ? What have you done ?", she asked jokingly. The stranger looked puzzle for a seconde, before looking back at me. I made an apologetic smile.
"Am I in trouble, Officer ?", he asked me, going along with the joke.
"Not that I know of, Sir, but I've got my eye on you", I answered with a smile.
Amanda swallowed a little laugh and told the man the amount he had to pay. He took a rumpled bill from his wallet, and gave it to the woman. She gave him his change back, and gave him a paper bag full of what he had bought. Before he walked to the door, he looked back at me :
"Have a nice evening, Officer Johnson."
"It's Melissa when I'm off-duty", I replied lightly.
"Ryan."
"Well, goodbye, Ryan. Maybe we'll meet again before you leave."
"I hope so."
And with that, he was gone. Amanda scanned my stuffs with a grin.
"He's a cutie, right ?", she said mischieviously.
"I guess", I replied non-commitentally.
When I reached the office on the next morning, Alexander was waiting for me with a cup of coffee and news from some police stations all over the country.
"Reports from Louisiana say that our Lupita Lawson was known back then under the name of Kitty May Elliott. Seems like its her real name. Nothing wrong with her, only her son committed suicide a few month before she changed name and moved here. My guess is that she couldn't cope with the loss, and decided to start over here."
"Maybe that's why she founded the community. To help people who have lost someone, or the one who are lost in life. Anything similar in the other reports ?"
Fandom : original work
Prompt 402 Restoration
Warnings : dead people ahead, first draft of a work in progress
Rating : PG13
Summary : it was a case like many others. Except it wasn't.
A/N : that would totally need to be reworked, if only because the continuity is a little bit deficient. (Part 1 - Part 2)
On our way back, Alexander and I discussed the impressions we had gotten from the interview. We both agreed on the main point : there was something they hadn't tell us, and if the head of the community had been called to monitor our dicussion, that something might affect the entire community.
Back at the station, we decided to split up for some time : while Alexander went around town to meet Agnes' identified friends and coworkers, I stayed at the office to do some research about the ranch and the community that was calling it home.
I'm rather good t reasearching. I had planned to go to journalism school after high shool, but life got in the way, and through a collection of occasions and experiences, had finally become a cop. But I was still as curious as a cat, and my ability to find things people would rather keep hidden had already helped us on many cases. I had the feeling that it would come in handy in these case as well.
What I found at first went along everything I had heard or witnesses myself a few years ago : Lupita's community had come into town when Juliana McAllister had sold her father's ranch to go and have a shining life in New York. The property wasn't in a good shape when Lupita had bought it, and the early community members spent their first few months putting everything up again. I remembered having heard my mom and one of her friends discussing it at the hair salon. Lupita had presented the restoration work as en exercise in team building, and had claimed it as the first step to make the place their own. The investement would be greater if they had worked to rebuilt what they had. At the time, that philosophy had seemed little more that hippie follies to the locals. There had been rumors of weed and other drug uses at the ranch, but no evidence were ever found. Sect and satanism gossips had gone the same way. Time had passed, and the community was now a part of the town life, not exactly considered as one of us, but not frowned upon as much as before either.
Administratively and legally, the community was clean, as far as the town was concerned. And since it didn't exist prior to their installation at the ranch, I would have to check every member separately if I wanted to have an idea of the past background of it. It seemed rather logical to begin with Lupita Lawson. Being the head of the community, and the first one to have come in town, she was the perfect beginning for a long and laborious background check.
An hour later, I realised it would take even longer than I expected. The information I found about Lupita Lawson were few and hadn't been available for more than twenty years. I had tracked a Lupita Lawson back in Lousiana, where she had told she was from, but her existence was more administrative than actual. The probability that it was her real name was weak.
When Alexander came back at the station, at the end of the day, he didn't have more information than I did.
"According to all the people I've spoken to today, the victim was a nice woman, and everybody liked her. If she had any bad side, she probably kept it to the community."
That didn't helped us at all.
I told what I had discovered during my researches. The community seemed to be a place for people to take a fresh start. None of the members I had looked for today, including Agnes, lived by his or her actual name. At this point, I coudn't tell if they had something to hide, of they merely try to get away from a unbearable past. We would need fingerprints or DNA to go any further, or maybe to run investigation where those people came from. We didn't had time for this. All we could do was to ring officials in their last known location, and hoped they could give us a hand.
Alexander and I divided up the list of names I had already checked between the two of us, and we made the necessary phone calls to try and get all the information we could gather. We wouldn't have any real answer before the next morning, and so we decided to call it a night. I was exhausted, and so was my partner. It had been a long day.
I am a bad planner. That's why I end up every single night at the local shop, purchasing my evening meal. I'm not much into take-out, even if I'm not the best of cooks. I prepare myself simple dishes, for which I'm incapable to plan ahead.
The shop was a little bit busier than usual when I got there. By the time I had gathered what I needed, a small queue of three persons was set before the counter. I recognized most of them : Mrs Galloway, the old lady who complained all the time her neighbor's dogs, was putting her items before the cashier, and Dylan Stanley, a kid I had already arrested twice for minor infractions, was standing right behind her, trying not to look too annoyed at the old lady's slowness. I didn't know the man right in front of me, though. He was rather tall and well-built, the kind of man one could see appearing in town around the summer to do seasonal work. He wasn't dressed fashionably, but conveniently, most likely from military overstocks.
"Trying on the local beer ?", I asked to start up a conversation, having seen a few of our local brew next to more generic Budweiser in his cart. The man looked back at me, and smiled an amused grin.
"I was feeling adventurous, tonight", he replied. "How much risk am I taking ?"
"Not much", I laughed. Our town was not famous for its brewery. "You can't say it anything special, one way or the other."
He shrugged. "Well, I'll still be able to say I've tried it."
"That way you're gonna make friends in town. You're there for the season ?"
"No, not really, I'm here for a short-time job", he replied, shrugging carelessly.
Mrs Galloway finished paying for her groceries, and Dylan put his own purchases on the counter. I didn't dare to ask to much question to the stranger in front of me. Being an officer didn't give me the right to put my nose in other people's life, even if it would be sometimes easier for me to do my job. I was vaguely aware of the fact the man's presence in town happened at the same time of Agnes' murder, but there was no reason to think they were linked. Coincidences happened.
"You're from around here yourself ?", he asked me then.
I nodded. "Yes, indeed. Local girl : grown up here, and stayed afterwards." I made a sheepish face. To most people, it sounded like I lacked ambition, but it wasn't ; I just liked it here. I had nonetherless internalized the habit to apologize for my life choice, and I hated it.
"It must be nice to have a place to call home", he said with philosophy, in a way that had me thinking he himself didn't have a home.
"I guess it is, even if there's downsides too", I replied, as Dylan exited the shop and the cashier salutated the newcomer. Amanda, who had been working at that counter for years, and was subsequently one of the persons I saw the most outside of work, adressed me a warm hello as well, with something in her smile that made me think she was up to something.
"It's the first I see you here, I think", she told her client boldly, while registering the items he was buying.
"That's because I haven't been here long", he replied with the same smile he had adressed to me.
"And you're already on Officer Johnson's radar ? What have you done ?", she asked jokingly. The stranger looked puzzle for a seconde, before looking back at me. I made an apologetic smile.
"Am I in trouble, Officer ?", he asked me, going along with the joke.
"Not that I know of, Sir, but I've got my eye on you", I answered with a smile.
Amanda swallowed a little laugh and told the man the amount he had to pay. He took a rumpled bill from his wallet, and gave it to the woman. She gave him his change back, and gave him a paper bag full of what he had bought. Before he walked to the door, he looked back at me :
"Have a nice evening, Officer Johnson."
"It's Melissa when I'm off-duty", I replied lightly.
"Ryan."
"Well, goodbye, Ryan. Maybe we'll meet again before you leave."
"I hope so."
And with that, he was gone. Amanda scanned my stuffs with a grin.
"He's a cutie, right ?", she said mischieviously.
"I guess", I replied non-commitentally.
When I reached the office on the next morning, Alexander was waiting for me with a cup of coffee and news from some police stations all over the country.
"Reports from Louisiana say that our Lupita Lawson was known back then under the name of Kitty May Elliott. Seems like its her real name. Nothing wrong with her, only her son committed suicide a few month before she changed name and moved here. My guess is that she couldn't cope with the loss, and decided to start over here."
"Maybe that's why she founded the community. To help people who have lost someone, or the one who are lost in life. Anything similar in the other reports ?"
