What happened to Grace Sinclair? (Friday Barnes)

~10~

                                 ~nothing~

Ian called her the next morning.

'So? Was I right?"

"Yes," Friday groaned.

She had woken up with a sore throat and was coughing constantly.

'Called it.'

Friday rolled her eyes.

'By the way, CPS went to Mr Sinclair's this morning. They took Kirsten and gave her to this really nice foster family. Mr and Mrs Heart. They've fostered over 30 kids so they know what they're doing.'

Friday smiled.

She may not have been able to save Grace, but maybe she had saved Kirsten.

"That's good," she said, grabbing her drink bottle and a Panadol pill.

'There's also been nothing new with Mr Sinclair. He hasn't been seen at the hospital but his neighbours say he's been selling his furniture. Seems sketchy to me but we can't say anything. Dude is allowed to sell his furniture. He is making a big fuss about Kirsten though.'

Friday had put Ian on speakerphone while she took the Panadol, and Alice had heard this last bit.

She came over, curiosity peaked. 

"Sup Ian." She said, walking past Friday to the box next to her mattress where she kept her unlimited supply of sour patch kids.

"Hey, Alice. Anyway, Friday, the likelyhood that Mr Sinclair gets custody of Kirsten again isn't very high but it's still possible. He's fighting a lot."

Alice came over and stood behind Friday, handing her the packet of sour patch kids and listening to the conversation.

Friday denied the offer and picked up the phone.

"How is it possible at all?" She asked.

"I dunno. But he's putting up a fuss."

Alice and Friday exchanged a glance. This was going to be annoying to deal with.

"Ok. Thanks Ian." Friday sighed.

"Yeah, all good. And make sure you rest so your body can fight that cold.'

"Mmmh, no promises." She said.

'I didn't think so. Bye Friday. Love you'

"Bye." She hung up.

Alice pulled out the chair opposite Friday at the table and sat down. "So, are you ever going to tell the poor boy that you love him?"

Friday's head snapped up. "What?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Come on, Detective. Tell the boy you love him. You know it's true. And he obviously loves you."

Friday stared at the yellow plastic of the packet of lollies.

She thought he had just been saying it because she had heard it was something people in relationships say. Not because he actually loved her.

Did she love him?

This was a serious question. And she would not be facing it now.

"I gotta go. There is probably more information at Interpol that he can't tell me over the phone and I need to go hear it." She lied.

Alice rolled her eyes again as Friday grabbed her backpack and bolted from the room.

She threw the backpack over her shoulder as she made her way down the stairs and called Officer Thomas.

He agreed to give her a ride to the Interpol campus as he was heading in that direction anyway.

They arrived at the campus two hours later.

It turns out that there really was nothing else for them to tell her.

"Sorry." Nina said, "there isn't anything new."

Friday slouched. "Ok. Thanks anyway."

She made her way back through the hallway of the main building.

Someone came around the corner and she immediately recognised them.

"I tell you to rest and you take that as come in and run down halls?" Ian laughed when he saw her.

Friday shrugged. "Well, I couldn't help myself. I wanted to know what's been happening."

Ian handed Nina a file he was holding, shaking his head, smiling.

"You busy body."

Friday smirked, rocking on her toes.

He turned around and began walking back down the hallway, putting his arm around her waist and taking her with him.

"So currently, we have nothing. Kirsten is too young to tell us anything and nobody has seen Mr Sinclair at the hospital or at Interpol for ages. The forensics team found  brain swelling and lots of faded bruises on Grace but can't determine the cause of death."

Friday frowned. Surely Mr Sinclair would be all over Interpol trying to find the person who killed his wife.

"But that doesn't make any sense" she said, voicing these thoughts. "Wouldn't he want to find his wife's killer?"

Ian nodded. "You would think so."

Friday sighed. "So that's it? That's the whole thing? There's nothing else to do?"

Ian nodded. "Yep. It's pretty much case closed. We have no lead and quite frankly, no way of getting one."

She ducked her head, sneezing into her arm.

"Go home, Friday. You're sick, go rest."

Friday sook her head. "I don't feel too bad."

Ian took her hand and pulled her down a hallway, over to an office. The plaque in the doors read 'Daniel Tarlee'.

He knocked on the door and, after a moment, it opened. A tall intimidating looking man stood before them. He was buff and looked as if he could pick both of them up with ease.

"Agent Wainscott. What can I do for you?"

Friday was taken aback. This man had the most cheery voice she had ever heard.

"I was wondering if you could take Agent Barnes home on your way out to the airport." Ian said, smiling his 'won't you do me this favour' Smile.

Mr Tarlee offered Friday a large smile.

She smiled back, not wanting to seem rude.

"Let me get my keys and we can go." Mr Tarlee said.

He closed the door slightly and Ian turned to Friday. "Listen, I don't wanna hear that you've been rummaging around on the dark parts of the internet or calling lots of people to try and solve anything."

Mr Tarlee came out into the hallway, shut the door and began to walk down the hallway.

Friday rolled her eyes, annoyed. "It's not like there's anything to solve."

Ian gave her a small smile and kissed her forehead. "Bye Friday."

She turned and went down the hallway after Mr Tarlee.