3. Wide Open

Mira and Maggie watched as Captain Smith flew off at an impressive clip towards the giant pine that peeked out from above the crest of the hill. 

"Pretty, that one." Mira said, appreciatively staring at his ass as he disappeared towards the horizon. 

"Eh." Maggie said noncommittally.  

Mira grinned wickedly and gave her a little shove. "I'll rock, paper, scissors you for him." 

Maggie grunted and bent to gather up her shirt and jacket, loathing that she had to don them once more. "He's not really my type." She mumbled, starting to put the sweat-damp shirt back on. 

"Oh? Since when is -sexy as all get out- not your type, Mags?" Mira gave her an unnecessarily saucy wink and Maggie quirked an eyebrow at her. 

"He's an asshole." She said, staring off in the direction Smith had gone, and twisting her mouth in disgust. "if that's your type Mira, he's all yours." 

"Hmmmmm. Well asshole is not NOT my type..." Mira said speculatively. 

Maggie grinned at her friend. Mira could have any fairy she fancied. She was easily one of the prettiest females in the village, had a good job, and was sharp as a tack, to boot. "Well then go on, Mira, I'm sure Captain Smith will need someone to act as his personal envoy. If you hurry you can catch him before he tells the Captain I'm a rubbish cop and should be fired on the spot."  

Mira nodded, amused. "You sure you don't want me to walk back with you?" 

"Nah, I'm fine." 

"Alright I'll see you back there. And Mags, you look like shit, you should drink some water." 

"Thanks." 

"Actually, that reminds me. Why was he soaking wet?" 

"You know, Mira, he stubbornly refused to tell me." 

"Interesting." Mira raised her eyebrows, considering the possibilities, then took off, hot on Smith's trail. 

"Mhmm" Maggie mused, watching her friend fly off into the glistening spring air. 

------- 

Jym took a deep breath, steeled himself, and landed just outside the line of guards who marked the absurdly underestimated perimeter within which the med techs were working. For a moment he waited and watched, taking it all in. The location of the tree, the location of the body, the depth of the indent it had carved out of the mossy earth, the positioning of the branches that snaked up the gnarled trunk of the tree, the number of guards, how each was holding themselves, the number of bystanders that clustered together in tight whispering knots of twos and threes. Small white flags had been stuck in the ground in various spots, to mark where parts of the poor lass had landed. He suppressed a shudder. And then, even more alarming, he saw that much of the remains had already had been removed from their original location and placed all together in a single body bag near the primary mass of what remained of Nell Stead. He was too late; the scene had been trampled and mishandled by these blithering idiots. All he could hope to do now was damage control and prevent it from happening again.  

He was considering the row of guards, trying to decide which was most likely to have two brain cells to rub together, when the tall magenta guard landed by his side. He glanced over and nodded. "Lieutenant." 

"Holman, sir. Lieutenant Mira Holman." A ghost of a smile danced across her lips, her face friendly, open, and almost shockingly beautiful. 

"Holman, could you take me to the commanding officer on site?" He'd barely glanced at her before looking back at the scene and wincing as two techs bumped into each other and each dropped the piece of Nell they'd been gingerly carrying towards the body bag. 

"This way sir." Holman said, succinct and professional. He liked her.  

The Captain of the Palace Guard was speaking quietly with two med techs and another guardsman. They all looked up impatiently as Holman approached, Jym a step behind.  

"What, Holman?" She said flatly, barely glancing at Jym. 

"Captain, this is Captain Smith sent from the Central Fairy Intelligence Home Office." She took a step aside and gave him a quick glance of encouragement, she'd done what she could, it was up to him from here. She flashed him another small tight lipped smile, turned and strode off.  

The Captain now turned her full attention on Jym. She was lime green with aqua hair, tall like Holman, but more heavily built, older, and possibly handsome but nowhere near beautiful. She squared her body, crossed her arms, and tilted her head to the side.  

"You're who the hell now?" Her voice was deep, and cold. Her gold eyes were frigid. It occurred to Jym that she would likely not be a sympathetic ear for the misdeeds of the mint green Private Brooke, and really no matter, the heyday they were having destroying this crime scene made Brooke's waterfront barf-fest look like a masterclass in proper evidence handling. 

"Captain Jym Smith, Central Fairy Intelligence and-."

"Yup, caught that part." She cut him off, sneering.  

"And, I understand you've had a suspicious death of a sensitive nature." 

She tilted her head and looked at him down her considerable roman nose. They were of a height, but he noticed her boots were not standard police issue, they were shiny black snakeskin with spike four-inch heels that slowly sunk into the soft ground every time she took a step. "Oh, have we now. I hadn't heard about that." 

She moved to turn her wide back on him. He stepped in and blocked her path, hands in his pockets. "Captain. I am sure you're familiar with the treatise of May 8th 7474. I do hope you have it posted in the lobby of your police department, as has been mandated by the Federal Bureau of Fairy Affairs. The penalty for not adhering to said treatise standards is, as you know, immediate dismissal from the force. So, you'll be allowing me to takeover this hilariously botched investigation right now...or were you planning an early retirement...?"

  

Clenching her thick hands into fists the size of hams, the Captain straightened and turned back towards Jym. "That-" she nodded towards Nell's remains, "Is not a suspicious death, nor is it of a sensitive nature. That-" she wrenched one sinking heel out of the mud and spread her legs wider, hands on hips, truly she was a wall of a person, "that, is a very stupid lovesick maid who got ideas outside her set, and then realized the error of her ways." 

"And what makes you think that, exactly?" Jym, returned, still friendly, neutral. 

She snorted and rolled her eyes then rummaged in her back pocket. She produced a crumpled, slightly damp sheet of notebook paper and shoved it towards him. 

"...what is that?" He asked, wrinkling his nose, praying that those damp patches now making the ink and blue lines bleed together were not Captain of the Palace Guard Ass Sweat.  

"Little miss left a suicide note." The Captain grunted. 

Jym could have screamed. Jym could have killed her on the spot, and then screamed. Instead he gave her a long, even look, the look he might give a dog that had just shit on the new white shag carpet.  

"You. Are keeping. a supposed suicide note... crumpled in the back pocket of your jeggings?!"  

She shrugged. "Who cares. It's a suicide. S'pose it's sad for her family, but that's not my concern. I was gonna pitch this, but if you want it, all yours." 

"Ahaha. Actually, I'm not a damn fool, so I'll not be touching that without gloves, thanks so much. I've seen plenty. I'm calling the Central Office now, I'm shutting this whole department down." He turned and shot his midnight blue and violet wings out, preparing to fly the quick jaunt to the nearest phone in the village. 

She strode after him and clapped a beefy hand on his shoulder. "Alright Smith. What the hell do you actually want. You want to dick around and pretend this suicide is exciting because the Central office is overstaffed and under-worked, I couldn't give half a shit. As far as I'm concerned, this case is closed, but sure, play make believe detective if you want. But-," 

They both looked up as a sweaty panting Private Brooke climbed up the last steep run of the hill and lurched back into her spot in the perimeter line. She looked at Lieutenant Holman,  then they both turned slightly to glance at Jym and the Captain of the Palace Guard. 

"I'd just ask that you take Private Brooke with you as you lead your extremely valuable and important 'investigations'. She can't fly, but I'm sure you won't" - her voice reached cosmic sneer levels- "let that slow you down. She's a war hero after all. I'd ask you show her the greatest respect, especially considering how much of herself, she's 'ahaha' given for our nation." 

Jym stared at the back of the little mint fairy. She'd sweated through both her shirt and her dress jacket. All things considered, she'd made good time hiking back from where he'd found her, must have run it the whole way. Still, she was insane, though maybe that was a usable angle. He sucked his bottom lip in, balancing his options.

  

"Of course, we could always take this matter to the King, I'm sure he'd be willing to weigh in, make a few calls over to the Central Office." The Captain followed his gaze to Private Brooke, who had now started a little, foot to foot "have to go potty" shimmy.  

Jym looked up to the sky, praying to Gods he knew didn’t exist for any help in this hopeless mission. The Gods ignored him, as they loved to do, and instead a med tech bumped heavily into him and dropped yet another piece of Nell at his slightly scuffed brown work shoes. "Fine. Fine. I'll work with Brooke. But stop moving the remains, stop walking all over this crime scene with-" he looked down at her feet and grimaced, "WITH high heels, stop putting the evidence in your jeggings. Just. JUST STOP." He'd shouted the last bit a little louder than he'd meant, but for all that was good and holy, this was like a running joke. 

The Captain of the Guard shrugged, stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The whole of the guard- several dumpy gray-haired male fairies, two younger males with slicked hair and gold chains (not regulation approved) flashing at their necks, and maybe six females varying in beauty and stature from the statuesque and immaculate Holman down to an elderly fairy godmother who'd brought her knitting to this assignment, crowded around the two Captains.  

"Right so. It's been determined by the all-seeing and all-knowing head office that Nell is no longer our problem. You lot" she flung a massive hand to encompass the motley clustered assortment except the little mint form of Private Brooke, who was standing on tiptoe to see over the knitting elderly fairy's shoulder. "Are dismissed for the day. I'll be at the 'Crashing Wings' in one hour for any interested, so we might toast the Central Office's generosity, doing our jobs for us. Private Brooke, as you've been wonderfully diligent in your efforts thus far, you're to assist Captain Smith. And because he cares so SOOOOO much about the value of this investigation, if you leave his side, even for a moment, even to take a piss. You're fired. I'm sure you two will" she paused and smirked, and half the guard chuckled meanly in appreciation. "crack this case." 

"wider than ole' Nell's head" one said, another nudged him and they both started wheezing with laughter. They all started to move away but Jym called after the group. "Captain, the suicide note, please leave it." She'd still been holding it in her hand as they walked away. Giving him a hard look, she crumpled it more into a ball, and lobbed it in his general direction before strolling away towards the retreating backs of the guard. At the promise of booze and gossip, the bystanders trickled away down the path as well. It was now just Private Brooke, Lieutenant Holman, and Jym. Neither Brooke or Jym had moved. He looked over at her and saw with a pang she was pale as a sheet and chewing at her lip. Holman shot over to her side and leaned low to say something in her ear. 

---------- 

'You know the Beast's an ass." Mira said quietly. "I mean, we didn't name her that out of deep love and affection. Mags, it'll be fine. It's like you won rock paper scissors without even playing!" 

Maggie tried to give Mira a halfhearted smile. "I'm fine. It's not The Beast, or that asshole," she glanced over at the pretty boy to see he was gaping at her with...sympathy? She immediately turned away. "It's just...Nell. I mean, I know she wasn't the sharpest piccolo in the symphony, but the poor thing deserved better than this. A better investigation than this!" 

"You don't think it's a suicide." The blue fairy was suddenly at their elbows. Mira and Maggie both jumped. 

"No." Maggie said, without hesitation. 

"Tied her own wings?! Absolutely not." Said Mira. 

He nodded, Maggie noted his midnight blue hair dried into thick waves that couldn't seem to choose a direction. It was bizarre, almost like it was trying to writhe off his head. He set the tips of his pointed ears lower and said with sincerity, "We can do right by her, by Nell, but you need to tell me what you know." 

Maggie looked at Mira, Mira shrugged the same 'what the hell' shrug she did before they dove into a round of tequila shots.  

"Can... Can we do something about the body?" Maggie asked. The buzzing of the teams of flies that seemed to have declared it Official Fly Picnic Day (hooray!) was making her feel ill.  

"Yes, but to do so, I need to make a phone call, where's the closest phone?" 

"The village" Maggie flung her arm out to indicate the little cluster of buildings a mile away, tucked just along the lip of the main swamp, a constellation of century old tree stumps that some ancient flood had killed and left empty and floating a foot above the current waterline. Their old roots were worn to nubs but wore dainty skirts of moss spotted with stars of flowers, right now all blanched white for Nell.  

"Actually." Mira said, thoughtfully. Maggie arched an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. 

"What?" she said.

"What?"  Captain Smith said.

Maggie looked up surprised to see not only her words but her posture echoed by Captain Smith. They stared at each other. He even arched the same eyebrow she did. Maggie immediately dropped her face, relaxed her arms, and very firmly turned her back on the asshole Captain Smith. 

"What is it Mira?" She pointedly used her common name, trying to make it clear to Smith that this was a private conversation he was crashing like a drunk frat boy. 

Mira was looking towards Smith, then Maggie, her face speculative.  

"Mags," she said, also turning away from Smith. "I have a phone."  

"Wait what?" Maggie said. 

"New thing, they issued them here and there through the force. Doesn't need a land line. But, do you trust him? Should we trust him?" 

Maggie looked over to see the Captain was not six inches from their conversation. She stiffened and drew away. 

"I wonder, why wouldn’t you trust me?" He asked, his gaze moving from Maggie's face, to Mira's to beyond Mira's left shoulder, where Nell's body lay, and over which the flies seemed to have set up a game of volley ball.  

"You're a jackass." Maggie said.  

The Captain looked down at her, grey eyes coldly glinting against blue-gray cheeks.  

"Fair enough, but as of yet all I've done is not report you for vomiting on a crime scene and swearing at AND insulting a superior officer, what is it now, four times in under and hour?! Maybe, just maybe I'm on your side, you obstinate little..." He took a breath and collected himself. "Look. I don't like to see Nell like this any more than you do, ok? Holman, the phone." He reached his hand out, leaving no room for argument. 

"He is a jackass, though." Maggie argued eyeing the blue fairy who was now crossing his arms and scowling at them.  

Mira shrugged, and handed Captain Smith the phone. "So are you Mags, and I still like you." 

Smith took the phone and stepped away from them, hurriedly dialing a number into its glowing green screen. He held it to his cheek and waited. 

"Hey hey! Sera! Yea. No. NO, I know, yea, last week was crazy. Yea, tell Sam I say hi, ask him if he's still hungover. Uh yea. Uh huh. Nope. Well, actually I'm in the North Swamp. Mhmm. Nah, not shitting you.  

Hey, so uh quick favor to ask... Yup, uh... no it's bigger than that time... and that time... yeah uh and that time." He paused, listening to the other end for almost a minute, "Ok. Actually no, it is not as big a favor as that time. Close though." Captain Smith froze and turned slightly to his left. 

Maggie smiled happily, taking notes in her little flip book. She spun her pencil, "Oh, I'm sorry Captain, is it rude to listen to other people's conversations??? Do tell Sammy-poo that I recommend whisky and sleep for a speedy hangover recovery!" 

She ducked and stepped a pace back, expecting him to smack her, or court martial her; either way she tensed and glanced at him as she leapt away, only to see him trying hard not to smile at her, the corners of his mouth tugging up as he gave her a playfully warning look. Maggie intended to frown at him, failed, and grinned instead, then grimaced, pissed at herself. She saw Smith watch this absurd expressional ballet with his head tilted, eyebrows raised. He nodded his head at the "Sera" on the other end of the phone. "Thanks, yea, no we'll be here. Easy to find, it's about a mile northeast of the village, dead center of the blanche. What? ...No, it's massive, biggest I've seen in a while, you'll spot it easily. Thanks Sera, see ya in a bit." He pressed a button and lowered the phone from his face.  

Maggie was still standing two feet away, listening, waiting.  

"Are you nine or thirty?" He said coldly, Maggie swore there was still something amused in his eyes. 

"How do you know how old I am?" She asked.

"Actually, that was a guess, just based on your behavior. Nine, then, eh?" 

"Oh-ho! Fuck you!" 

"seventh time." He said flatly. 

"What?" 

"That, Private, is the seventh time you've sworn at me." 

"How good's your advanced calculus?" She asked thoughtfully. 

"Why?" 

"Because you'll be utilizing it to keep that tally by the time we're done with this investigation." 

"That's... that's not how calculus works." He said, now absolutely, and entirely trying to keep a straight face.  

"Ah shit, no... no wait, does that count? ...or only when I call you a fucking bastard? Wait, don't answer that. Ah shit, Math was never my strong suit." 

"What was, or is?" He asked, strolling past her to give Mira back the phone. 

Maggie didn’t answer. As far as she knew, she didn't have a strong suit. 

Smith was talking to Mira, they were both ignoring her. She wavered uncertainly and then drifted over to listen in.  

"The Central Office techs should be here in an hour." Smith was saying. "Until then I'm afraid we shouldn't touch anything. I need to go get my bag and other things that I left behind, by that pond. I know you're not on call, but could you wait here until then?"  

"Of course." Mira said, smoothly.  

Maggie watched Mira nod and turn to walk away towards the head of the path from the village, to guard against gawkers or trophy seekers that might yet arrive. Her maroon hair had come loose from the twist at the base of her neck and now strands were framing her face perfectly. Anyone with a pulse would have fallen in love. 

Maggie bit her lip.  

The flies had begun a softball league at Nell's feet. She watched the blue team score a home run near Nell's shin, and then jogged over to the abandoned medic trolley where fresh clean linen sheets were folded by the dozen in leaning wheat colored stacks. Maggie grabbed an armful, a pair of sterile booties and gloves- both of which the techs hadn't bothered with, and set to work, silently apologizing to Nell the entire time. Carefully, she stepped gingerly around anything and everything, and dropped the linen sheets over all the bits of Nell she could spot. The flies spun away in angry clouds, spitting unintelligible swears at her in their gravelly language. Probably she was ruining their corporate employee appreciation picnic, and possibly all that remained of the evidence, if there even was any to begin with, but if she'd been Nell, it's what she would have preferred. At any moment she expected Smith to stop her, to shout, but instead he stood in the shade of the giant pine, hands in pockets, watching her.  

When she finished she walked over to him, sweating and happy for the shade's respite from the bruising midday sun.  

"We need to get my bag." He said, gesturing back towards the pond. 

"We'll have to walk. I can't fly." Maggie hated the heat that rushed to her face at the admission.  

"I've been made aware of that, twice now. We've got time, we'll walk." He ran a big hand through his rowdy indigo hair and tilted his chin, indicating she lead the way.  

---- 

"Did you know her?" He asked quietly. 

"Nell? On sight yea, but we weren't friends, I mean, or enemies. Barely knew her. I've only been here six months." Maggie struggled to keep up with the pace he was setting, saw him notice, saw him slow down, decided she hated everything.  

Smith nodded placidly, now maintaining a gentle stroll, seemingly admiring the scenery of lush new leaves and ivory blooms. 

"So... what do you think happened last night?" He asked, as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather. 

Maggie studied his face for a few paces. It was an extremely handsome face, boyish but not at all soft, and interesting- his eyebrows and mouth often moving in tandem to expressive and engaging effect.  She understood some people were excellent judges of character, but it was never a skill she'd mastered, and Captain Smith baffled her entirely. She wanted to trust him and that impulse alone made her nervous. There again, at this point she didn't have much left to lose. She admired his nicely squared jawline and thought hard. 

Smith felt her stare and turned to look down at her. He seemed to be similarly appraising her character. They might have carried on in this stupid staring contest indefinitely had Maggie's boot heel not slid on a loose stone and sent her careening forward. The Captain's hands were on her immediately, catching her under the arms, and hauling her back to her feet.  

"Careful." He said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and walking on. He'd been blushing, but there again, so was Maggie. The stumble test was really as in-depth as she could get with sussing out a person's intentions. She'd need to consider the results of this test more thoroughly with Mira over a couple whiskeys later. For now, she decided to trust him.  

"Her wings were tied tight to her body." Maggie began. 

Smith nodded and kicked a loose stone with the left toe of the battered brown leather boot that peeked out from below his black suit pants. The stone went skittering off down the incline of the path ahead of them. "I've seen that before in suicides." He said a bit tightly. 

"Me too", Maggie sighed, miserably. Smith shot her a sharp look and she frowned and looked away from his curious gray eyes, towards the horizon, where a thousand gentle hills swelled and loped one after another, each bedecked by a mantel of white flowers towards the distant placid blue sky. Somewhere beyond that line, beyond Nell's blanche, the hills rose to jagged mountains and then dropped steeply down, as if losing their will to stand upright. That was the North front, or 'the bloody end' as they'd all started to call it in the last days of the war. The front, or the war, had had a wicked sense of humor it seemed, because it had indeed been the site of the bloody end to the war, and to so many lives, many of Maggie's friends among them. 

Her wing gave a sudden jab of pain as they started down into the valley towards the pond. Smith took a hand from his pocket and raked it through his absurdly messy hair again. Maggie noticed the nervous tick and allowed the silence to draw out between them. Quiet minutes past, she twitched, glanced at his impassive face, chewed her lip, gave in and filled the gaping space with words.  

"In the army... it's... well. War isn't for everyone, or, more like war isn't for anyone, but some people adjust better than others. Most of the troops were all but kids, straight from school, so eager, so fucking stupid and blinded by the crap they'd been fed by the government. They'd arrive, struggle, and it got worse and worse. It was usually the newest ones, who'd suddenly see they'd made a very bad decision to join. Of course, when the draft started..." She cut off bitterly and twisted her neck, cracking her spine and trying to release the tightness that was gathering in her shoulders and making her bad wing scream. 

"On the North front, when it all went to hell in a shit basket, there wasn't much food, hardly any ammunition, and NO medical supplies, people were dying of, OF stubbed toes because we didn't even have antibiotics. We were killing our own people more than the dark fairies ever could, So, these kids, 18, 19, starving, their friends dying left and right around them. Anyway. Yea. I've seen it too. Did you fight?" Her question was more accusatory than she'd meant it to be. Everyone their age had done their part. The entire weight of the war had rested on the shoulders of their generation. 

Smith snorted and kicked hard at his stone, which they'd now reached. He clipped it and it caught air then disappeared in a clump of blanched lilac to their left. "Not really. Not enough. I was special forces. Spy stuff, espionage behind the lines. Closest I came to a fight was a scuffle with the ambassador of Tullett over who would cover the bill for our martinis. I lied, and cheated, and gathered all sorts of information that did exactly zero good." He kicked another stone, viciously. It shot straight down the center of the path. Maggie wondered what he'd do when he found it again.  

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and flicked his nearest pointed ear as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "So, what makes this different? Nell." 

Maggie opened her mouth to answer, but promptly widened it into a silent shriek as they were both dive-bombed by an angry flurry of spiky black legs and flapping red wings. A particularly large magenta butterfly buzzed Smith, catching his blue gray ear with a sharp foot, and making him yelp. Grabbing his hand, and dragging him behind her, Maggie started a speedy zig-zag towards the little mound of his bag and clothes. She dropped his hand, sprinted the last bit, scooped up his things, and streaked back, cracking one particularly fierce bubblegum colored butterfly over the head as it actually tried to mount her. Snatching Smith's hand once more, she hauled him sideways off the path and into the thick brush. She scaled a near vertical incline and looked back to check his progress. He was wrapping his satchel back over his shoulder, wincing hard at that action, (she couldn't fathom why,) and gamely following behind her. A ten-foot climb straight up and they were just above the magenta swarm. 

A finger to her lips, she arched an eyebrow at Smith seeing he was about to ask her something.  They bent low and snuck higher and higher up the ledge and back towards the village. They silently ducked past a patch of nesting eagles and skirted along a particularly steep rock lip that made Maggie sweat. After another ten minutes hard hike, the land started to ease down more gently towards the ancient pine forest and swamp below. Maggie stopped to catch her breath, and to watch the approaching CFI battalion that was just now breaking the horizon and streaking towards the ancient pine and Nell's remains. They seemed to both pick up the same shred of the previous conversation at once. 

"Because-" Maggie said 

"Why-" Smith asked in the same breath.  

Maggie jumped back and Smith's shoulders squared, his blue and purple wings flicking out defensively. They both watched as three fairies broke free of the main group and zoomed towards them.  

---------- 

The three fairies approached and Jym relaxed almost immediately as they came more sharply into view. He noted that Brooke, at his side, if anything tensed more, feet spread, arms loose, eyes narrowed, as if she were ready for a brawl. 

"It's ok." He said more than a little amused, "I know them. That's Sera." 

The little mint fairy didn't relax in the least. "You know them, I don't know them, hell I don't even know you." She took a tentative step back as Sera landed with two of the younger city med techs Spraltz, and McKennon, if he remembered correctly. He nodded at all of them and reached out and shook Sera's hand. 

"Thanks, I owe you one." 

Sera squeezed his hand back and twisted her mouth, "You owe me like eight, do you have any idea how hard it was to get this lot out of the city with the storm coming? Everyone's already starting to board up and bounce town!"  

Jym shrugged, "Ok ok I owe you eight. And you're not going to like this either, but I need a full autopsy. I don't like any of this, the scene's a mess, they've trampled everything." He tried to turn his back a bit to politely indicate to Brooke that this was not actually a conversation he was inviting her into, she neatly side stepped him and stood just at his elbow, watching he and Sera with bright emerald eyes.  

"Shit Jym. That is asking a lot. I'm not even sure they'll take another body at the morgue. They're expecting some fatalities when this thing hits, and everyone that's staying behind is stretched pretty thin." Sera looked at Brooke curiously as she spoke and then looked back at up him, the question plain in her eyes. 

"Private Brooke, this is Dr. Sera Bennett, she's the head medical examiner at the CFI city office." 

Sera reached out a deep eggplant colored hand with immaculately manicured nails and shook Brooke's mint hand cordially. 'Nice to meet you" Sera smiled warmly, she was always such a sport. 

"Hi" Brooke said with far less enthusiasm. 

Sera turned her attention back to him and pinched the bridge of her nose, "Ok, what was the time of death, what kind of a window am I working with?" 

"Sometime last night, so, two days on the safe side before she starts to haze much." 

Sera blew out an irritated breath and threw her hands up in the air. "Fine, fine."  

"There's a piece of notepaper down there I need you to take a close look at too. They're calling it a suicide note, it's uh, not in good condition. The Captain was carrying it around in her pocket. 

Sera wrinkled her nose in horror, "Wow, that's a first." 

"And Sera, play this as close to the chest as you can, ok?" He knew she knew exactly what he meant, but it was all he dared say with Brooke hanging on their every word. 

Sera gave him a long thoughtful look and then shook her head slowly. "I hope you know what you're doing, Jym." She turned to the other two techs, who'd politely hung back from the conversation, unlike the persistently obtuse Brooke. "Ok you two, we need to make this quick." They all launched and flew off towards the giant pine. 

Jym looked down at Brooke and scrubbed a hand across his chin. What he needed was speed. What he had was a stubborn little anchor. The Captain of the Palace Guard had clipped his wings as effectively as if she'd used a pair of garden sheers. Unconsciously his eyes moved up to the ragged hole in Brooke's left wing. Good gods that must have hurt, must still hurt. He cleared his throat and picked up their mutual train of thought. 

"Ok, you were saying." He looked down at her. She flashed him a quick glance and they both started walking again. 

"Well, first, I've never seen a female fairy go that way-" 

Jym nodded in agreement, he hadn't either. It seemed to be a particularly male way to careen towards death.  

"And, I know she was young, I think she was something like 20, and y'know how young fairies are, mood swings and-" She waved her hands attempting to express the emotional volatility that is youth, "But she was pretty well set, going from chamber maid to Crown Prince's fiancee', that's uh, not a bad spot to be in. Finch seemed to like her-" her face darkened at that, and Jym wondered how well Brooke and Crown Prince Finch knew each other. He considered who he could ask to tease that information out. 

"And I saw her last night, and-" 

"Wait, you SAW HER LAST NIGHT?! And you're just telling me this now?! When, where, how late??? Who was she with?" 

Brooke shot him a hard look, "With all due respect Captain, I've been in your company for a little less than two hours total now, so yes, I am telling you this now. I did tell my commanding officer but 'The Beast' ah... er, that is Captain Parks, wasn't particularly interested. Once they found the suicide note, it was pretty cut and dry, clean up the body, move on." She stopped and peeled off her wool jacket and button-down shirt once more. 

"Crap it's hot today. Anyway, I saw her at about midnight, she was heading back towards the castle, and I was going to my stump to call it a night. She seemed in a good mood. Waved at me even." 

"Where's your stump located?" She tilted her head, and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Have you been here before? I mean, I can tell you but if this is your first time here, it's not going to mean much to you." 

Jym backtracked, "Is it near the pine tree, the crime scene?" 

"Actually yea, pretty damn close. I was outside between about 3 and 5am, though I didn't see anything." 

"You were outside, near the crime scene between 3 and 5am... and there's no one to substantiate your movements during that time?" 

"I didn't kill her." She said flatly, with little heat. 

"I'm not sure I can take your word for it." Jym said, considering Brooke suddenly from a new angle. 

"Captain. You seem to need to be constantly reminded, I can't fly. So, what, I threw Nell over my shoulder and climbed a fifty-story tree to the top?!" 

He had forgotten about that. "Ah right, ok." Course, she could have had accomplices, though he kept that thought to himself. 

"And actually, I wasn't the only one out last night at that time" Brooke said as they made it to the edge of the sun dappled clearing near the base of the pine. He put a hand on her tiny shoulder and stopped her.  

"Who else was out there then?"  

"I'm not sure, I uh didn't see him, I heard him." 

"Heard 'him' doing what?" 

She blushed and looked down at her big black boots, barely visible under the oversized uniform pants. "He uh, shouted at me, called me an 'Eejit Banshee'." 

"Imagine that." Jym said, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

Brooke smiled, sweaty, and wilted as she was, she was surprisingly pretty, especially when she smiled. "Yea well, I had just screamed 'shut up' out the window"  

"At this mystery person?" 

"Mmmmm no, at the swamp." 

"You were shouting out your window, at the swamp, at two in the morning on a Tuesday night?" He couldn't help it, he was smiling now too. 

Brooke shrugged. "It was loud... I couldn't sleep" 

"What did this person sound like, is there any way you could identify them?" 

Brooke frowned drawing her eyebrows down in thought, "Ye-eessssss, I think so. It was a West Shore accent, VERY heavy, so probably a pixie, and he was shitfaced." 

"You believe this individual to have been intoxicated?" 

"Yes. Oh! Actually, I have an idea, come with me. I can show you where I last saw Nell, and my stump, it's on the way." 

"Ok, uh ok wait, let me just have a quick word with Sera, and don't forget your hat-" He pointed to where her abandoned shako was sitting near a giant toadstool. 

"Ugh" she said and jogged off to grab it. Jym took the opportunity to quickly stride over to Sera and have an actual private conversation. 

"How many people know?" He said, just above a whisper. 

"Murphy, I told everyone else it was a training exercise. But it's going to be hard to explain when I come back with a body from a 'training exercise'." 

"Can you...?" 

"What, shove her under my lab coat and sneak her in?" 

"Is there any way to..." He rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair out of his face, thinking hard. 

"What about the old army hospital, could you take her there? Do the autopsy there?" 

"You want me to do a secret autopsy in an abandoned hospital with a hurricane bearing down on us?!" 

"...yes?" 

"Goddamnit Jym, I'm a doctor not a mad scientist."

"So, you'll do it?" 

"I hate you."

"Thank you Sera." 

"...Jym, you think it's Finch don't you?" 

"I'm not sure yet. Hell, I'm not even sure the poor lass didn't just do this herself." 

"What's the deal with the little mint fairy, Brink, or Brooke, or whatever her name is." 

"She can't fly, ex-army, not much of a cop. The Captain of the Palace Guard assigned her to stay with me at all times, apparently to slow me down." 

Sera looked up at the sky and bit her lip, "Captain of the Palace Guard...hmmm that would be Merribell Parks." 

"Know her, do you?" 

"Only a bit, but I've heard things too. Nasty piece of work that one." She put a hand on his shoulder just as Brooke walked up to join them, swinging her shako by its feathered plume. 

Sera didn't say it but they both were thinking it at each other, "Be careful."