#killingdreams
Half a minute later Captain Weston hurried toward them carrying a large file under his arm. Bill quickly turned the portrait to its original position.
"Doctor McDowell," he half greeted, sparing only a brief glance in Patches' direction. "Thank you for coming. Shall we take our leave and go talk somewhere privately?"
Bill made a show of looking around the nearly empty room. "This looks private enough to me, Captain," he replied.
"Yes, well...." Weston hesitated. "Perhaps it would be better to speak alone, you and me. I'd not want to offend your wife's delicate sensibilities."
Patches laughed out loud. She couldn't help it. Even Bill couldn't keep much of a straight face.
"My wife is my partner," he said. "Surely you can understand that. Whatever you have to say can be said to her also."
"She works with you?" The Captain asked, clearly caught off guard.
"You didn't realize that?" Bill countered. "Obviously you haven't read any documentation of previous cases. If you had, you'd know."
Weston's face grew red; the furrow between his brows deepening. "I've been able to obtain certain documentation of your exploits out west," he said. "However it makes no mention of your wife."
"How were they signed?" Patches asked forcing Weston to acknowledge her presence. He consulted some pages contained within the folder.
"They're signed 'P. McD'," he said making
pronunciation of 'Pee Mick Dee' and looking at her full on.
"That would be me," she said. "My name is Patience McDowell, prior to that my last name was McDuff. I was lucky to marry into another McD family."
The Captain looked to Bill for confirmation. Bill nodded.
"Oh," Weston mumbled, "I thought it stood for Professor McDowell. However, Doctor, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not have your wife on this case. I'm sorry but it's just not acceptable." He drew himself up as he spoke trying to make his statement as authoritative and final as possible.
Bill's eyebrows rose and Patches' face fell carefully blank. Bill was highly insulted; nothing irritated him more than this sort of attitude.
"In that case, Captain," Bill said, "we'll be on our way. Please let us know if you ever solve this case."
Weston was taken aback, this reaction was completely unexpected and his demeanor faltered. "Doctor, I could really use your help," he said trying to keep his composure.
"I'm sure you can hire a Pinkerton from back east," Bill suggested reaching for the coat rack, "even though that will probably cost you hundreds if not thousands of dollars and an additional two or three weeks."
Weston stepped forward and took Bill's arm. Bill froze, looked at the man's hand, and then glared at him.
"Please, Doctor," he said removing the offending hand. "This is very important and most dangerous. If you would just send your wife home where she'll be safe, where she belongs-."
"Captain Weston," Bill interrupted nearing the end of his patience. "Patches and I have been working together since '73 when we were deputies in Arizona. I can tell you from experience, there are very few jobs less 'safe' than that and we did it together for seven years. Now we can do this one of two ways. You can take us both on and allow her to do her job as my partner, or we can both leave and you will have an unsolved case on your hands. I assure you, either way is just fine with us. It's not like we don't have other work to do and since you have offered no compensation, we have no reason to accept this case other than we would like to help you."
Inwardly the detective cringed absolutely sure he was about to lose the last edge he might have gained if he did not acquiesce to the Doctors wishes. Still though, the idea of having a woman on the case made him highly uncomfortable.
"I'd be afraid if something happened," Weston said giving it one last try even though he already knew it was hopeless. "What if there were shooting or-."
"Patches is a much better shot than I am," Bill admitted, "and has years more experience. She rode in the war."
Weston balked. The idea of a woman riding in the war and being proficient with firearms was an idea even more difficult to grasp.
"I'll be happy to show you if you'd like," Patches volunteered. "I presume you have a range somewhere?"
Weston sighed, sagged against the desk and rubbed his temples. "You absolutely will not work without her?"
"I absolutely will not," Bill stated putting his arm around his wife. "She is essential to my work. She is one of the few people I can work with who is familiar enough with my patterns to not get in my way and is also competent enough to carry out many of the tests herself. This frees me to spend more time interpreting data and, one would hope, arrive at a timely solution."
Weston rubbed his eyes. "All right," he consented reluctantly after a long pause. "But I'll not take responsibility if she gets hurt."
Bill scoffed. "More than likely she'll be responsible for you not getting hurt. Now, what else do you have?"
Captain Weston rounded his desk, opened the file folder and began dealing out the details of the case. Every time he came to a page that he wanted Bill to look at, however, Bill would point to Patches. She would then take it, read it, make notes of her own and then hand it to Bill. After three or four of these rather annoying exchanges, Weston dropped all pretenses and handed the pages directly to her.
"We'll need to see the body, Bill," she suggested after she skimmed her notes for the second time. "I'd be willing to bet there's a bit more here than what's in these reports."
Weston's face flushed but he said nothing.
"I agree, and we'll need photos," Bill said turning to Weston. "Where can we find the body and, if you have one, the coroner?"
Weston rose shaking his head, still leery of a woman seeing something like this. "I'll take you there if you insist, but it's really quite grisly."
"Can't be any more grisly than some of the things the Apache do to people they consider enemies." Patches' tone was clear, she spoke from experience. This was something Weston understood and could make no argument.
"Come on then," he said leading the way. Bill and Patches fell into step behind him.
STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 3!
@>--->--- ~*~ ---<---<@
Where to find me and all my stuffs =D
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Killing Dreams ~An American Victorian Steampunk Murder Mystery
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