Title: Larger and Smaller Decisions, Chapter 2
Pair: Charlie Eppes / Colby Granger,
Don Eppes / Martin Fridegord,
David Sinclair / Ian Edgerton
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Feedback: Always Welcome
NUMB3RS Main List Follows:
Lost Cause Prologue Chapter 1 “Thanks for coming, we-” Colby’s eyes dropped down to the two letters in Megan’s hand. “Don’t tell me you got one too.”
“I did.” She stepped in and followed him into the living room. “And so did you. This one was on the ground in front of your garage door.”
Colby took the other enveloped and checked the name written on it. Just name, no address. Similar envelope, name written neatly with a felt-tip pen. He ripped it open and unfolded the two sheets inside.
“More of the same?” David got up from the couch and walked behind him, trying to get a look at it.
“Same crap, just different words. Living in sin, shouldn’t be allowed into the FBI, sinning with a big nosed Jewish whore and his bastard baby.” Colby was beginning to feel an uncontrollable urge to hit something. “When we catch the guy who wrote this, he’ll need one hell of a surgeon to fix his own nose, because I’ll smash his face in.”
“What makes you so sure it is a man?” Megan unfolded her own letter. “Lets take a look at all of them.”
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“I think I got everything.” Don came down the stairs and dumped his bags on the floor. He looked around, but there was no one in sight. “And I’m talking to myself.” He peeked his head into the living room, and spotted the fresh pot of coffee on the table. “Anyone here?”
“Out here.” Martin’s voice informed. “There’s a cup for you, help yourself.”
Don picked up a cup from the tray and poured himself some coffee. The bright daylight was flooding the room through the French windows and he walked out to the terrace overlooking the pool. Martin was sitting on the railing, nursing a cup of coffee.
“How is it possible that this place is more like stereotypical California than Los Angeles is?” Don took a seat on one of the cast-iron chairs. “We come for a funeral and spend most of the weekend on the beach or at the pool. Isn’t that the California cliché? Sunshine and sea.”
“No need to circle around it, you can just ask how it went. I’m filing the official papers tomorrow morning, and mom and dad will terminate the temporary custody arrangement.”
“Were they happy about it?”
“Mom tried not to be too happy, but I could tell she was relieved.”
“Are they still here?”
“She went to take a nap and dad decided to join her. I think it has something to do with her medication, she’s been like a sleepwalker most of the weekend.”
“I’ve noticed… and she wasn’t much better when she was herself. No offence.”
“Non taken. Maybe she’ll calm down now.” A mild smile ghosted in Martin’s lips. “As much as possible when you’re talking about her.” He finished his coffee and set the cup next to him on the railing. “Did you know this was part of the original house? They built the new part after I moved out. The pool wasn’t here when we we’re kids either. Dad always thought it was unnecessary when you live couple blocks from the beach, but mom finally won.”
“Is she a big swimmer?”
“She can’t swim at all.”
“Interesting woman.”
“Yeah, she is.” Martin leaned forward on the railing, looking down at the sun soaked yard. “When we we’re kids we were never allowed to come to the terrace. Mom was open-minded about everything else, but she was paranoid about the railing.”
“Did you come here anyway?”
“Every time she wasn’t there to see.”
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“What do you think?”
“I’m thinking…” Megan observed the three letters laying on the table side by side. The accompanying three pictures were in their own line next to the first one. “They’re all similar. Malicious and aims for personal life rather than work, that just screams woman.”
“How does that say woman?” David wondered. “Men can get personal too.”
“But not the same way. When men write letters that are meant to shock and alarm people, they’re active. They make threats, direct or otherwise. These just spread malignant names, who’s sleeping with who, ethnicity, religion. They don’t try to scare you, they want to hurt. That’s how females write this kind of letters. Men want to scare, but women aim for whatever personal thing they think will hurt the receiver.”
“I hope you’re wrong.”
“Why?”
“I can’t hit a woman.” David’s expression lit up. “But you can.”
“Shouldn’t we try to find her first?” She moved on to the printed pictures. “All the pictures are from the fan site and taken in the proximity of this house. There’s probably no use to try to dig up people who have been on the site, but this is definitely not about some criminal mastermind or even anyone who has much experience in things like this. These are amateurish, that’s the only word for it. And I think this is about the team. Not really personal.”
“How do you know?”
“I got one, you got one and Colby got one. Not Ian and not Charlie. When you think about it, Charlie would be a lot better target for a letter like this, but he didn’t get one. The writer is obviously aware of Charlie and Ian and Mathew, but he doesn’t approach them. The only thing that could link the three of us like this is work, and if Don got one, it supports my theory.”
“He’s coming back today.” Colby checked his watch and opened his cellphone. “He’s probably still there, he said he booked the late flight.” He dialled the number and pressed it against his ear.
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“Can’t they get cushions for these things?” Don got up and send a hostile glare at the ornamental cast iron chair. “I bet that whole twirl pattern is now printed on my ass.”
“Blame mom’s decorator. They actually did an article about the house couple years ago on some magazine.”
“Doesn’t make it any more comfortable.” Don rubbed his tender rear end. “Good-looking doesn’t mean comfy-” His phone started ringing and he whipped it out of his pocket. “Eppes.”
Martin turned back to the sunlight and tuned out to give him some privacy. When he got up few minutes later to get more coffee, Don’s face had fallen and he looked enraged. His hand was shaking as he snapped the phone shut.
“What’s wrong?”
“Some creep decided to harass my team with letters.”
“What kind of letters?”
“Racist, anti-Semitic, you name it. They’re gonna check our place too in case the guy left one there too.”
“Who were they addressed to?”
“Granger, Megan and David.”
“So if you got one too, that means the whole team.”
“That’s what Megan’s thinking.”
“Did Charlie see them?”
“No, and that’s good. I can’t even imagine how worked up he would get.” Don went back to the living room and stacked the used coffee cups on the tray. “I’m kinda glad you’re staying here for a while.”
“You think the guy would actually try something?”
“Can’t hurt to be careful.”
“David, Colby and Megan got letters, not me. Take care of them and I’ll take care of myself.”
Chapter 3