So here's part four, won't be home til next week still though,
so
don't expect a lot of this, even though I have another few chapters,
I've been a little sidetracked with little fluffy CJ plot bunnys
that
latch on and won't let me write anything else until I delatch
them and
set them free. But I do have more written and there will be more
typed
soon, so there's something to look foward to, I'm determined to
finsh
this. If I can write a full length screenplay I can write a fanfic
novel...
*~*~*~**~*~*~*
Garret Macy looked at the man working next to him. The usually
relaxed
young man looked tense. He had noticed it when they had run into
the
man in the hall, the two of them, his coworker and the stranger
had
glared at each other, a look of pure unrestrained hate. The atmosphere
felt so thick that Garret could cut it with a knife.
He shook his head and focused on the case at hand. He'd talk
to Nigel
about it later, right now he had a dead body to focus on. The
case
looked fairly cut and dried, at least so far as the ME's office
was
concerned. A bullet to the head, and from the look of it the body
had
been dead a good hour or so.
Woody had already ID'd the man as Bartolo D'Antoniati, and
he'd pass
that on to Lilly so that she could go about locating a next of
kin for
the man. Garret finished and stood up. "Garret, I'll just
wait for Mr.
Blaine to call and get back to you with what he knew when he showed
up." Woody caught the ME on his way towards the door.
"Blaine?" Garret questioned, pausing where he was.
"Yeah, Rick Blaine, the man who found the body." the other man froze.
"six-two, black hair, blue eyes, sickeningly charming
Irish accent?"
The Brit asked the detective.
"Yeah, Nigel, that's him. You saw him in the hall? He's
a buisness
associate of Mr. D'Antoniati" Before Nigel could answer another
of the
officers on the scene held up a book.
"Hey, dectective Hoyt, looks like our guy here was a bookie,
and a
failure at it as well, this guy was paying out more on a regular
basis
than he ever took in."
"Rick Blaine." Garret mused for a minute. "Casablanca."
He said,
realizing where he knew the name from. Woody's eyes lit up.
"Get an APB for him, I can do a full description of him
later, but at
the moment he's going by Rick Blaine." Woody was out the
door in an
instant.
Garret and Nigel followed him, albeit rather more slowly, they
had
nowhere to be, it was up to Woody and the Boston PD to track down
this
mysterious Mr. Blaine, not them. They reached Garret's SUV and
after
chucking his bag in the back, Garret got into the car and glared
at
Nigel.
"What the hell went on back there?" He asked the
younger man as he put
the car into gear.
"There's something about that man Garret, that I know
I recognize, and
there's something about him that I utterly dislike"
"I think you're letting a first impression get too under
your skin."
Nigel shrugged as they drove off back to the familiar halls of
the
morgue.