Offices of Savoy & Savoy, Attorneys at Law
——
A request was sent to the Dallas PD, for Officer Young to come to the law firm to pick up some paperwork for the cases he turned over to Mignonette. A bit out of character, for the woman who usually likes to do things face to face and on level footing, but it is what it is. And should be arrive, it isn't the young lawyer who greets him, but Desiree, her assistant. The files are neatly laid out in the outgoing folder of the reception desk.
—-
Even with the wintry effects beyond the building sticking to the earth, James steps into the offices of Savoy and Savoy with general ease and casuality. He isn't alone though, for the most part, his partner walking in roughly five paces behind him, all because the other man needs to check his shoes for slush and snow and then adjust the coat worn while Young merely taps a few times and then steps onward. He's just in his uniform. "I'm here for whatever it is Miss Savoy needed," to the receptionist, he's speaking to, pressing his hands to the edge of the desk and lightly smiling.
—-
Desiree looks up, as the two men enter the office, offering a smile as polite and professional as she would to any client. "Oh, yes. She had these files for you, and apologizes for not being able to see you herself. Information on the cases you gave to her. She asked if you could pass them on to the DA when you have a chance to see him." Her right hand rises, and she indicates the small waiting area beside the reception desk, "There's hot coffee or tea, if you'd like, to warm you up before you head back out again."
—-
Finally, Ethan catches up to Young and makes a moving sweep to remove his hat. He smiles to the receptionist as well. "Right, right, it's okay, thanks," rattles off James while reaching for the files. He combs through them once and then nods to himself, tucking them neatly under his left arm. With the opportunity for coffee and tea, James looks to Ethan who looks to Desiree before doubling back in order to fetch a cup. James follows, seating himself, giving time for Ethan to drink a cup.
—-
Having passed on the files, as she was instructed, Desiree goes back to whatever it was she was working on at her desk, giving the men time to refresh themselves, stamping and signing and in two instances, copying. She does pause, in the middle, to dial one of the internal numbers, her voice soft, and touched with just a hint of concern, "We're coming up on just under an hour for the deadline, ma'am." A pause, "Yes, I'll call Caleb and see if he can get them to grant us an extension."
—-
"You know, this is some fine drink, should try some," this coming from Ethan, who moves to sit down next to James while sipping away. It's hot though, so that requires him to hold the cup precariously aloft and try not to burn his tongue on the coffee in the process. It's difficult and he ends up just sitting back and watching Desiree. "Think I can get her number?"
That brings out a laugh in James, brief and quieted but one nonetheless. He even looks sidelong towards his partner and shakes his head a bit before leading into a lightened shrug. "Go for it, but we're on the job, and I'm waiting on you to figure out when you'd like to leave here. No slackin', eh?" Besides, James is more interested in the phone call being made, listening.
—-
Desiree sets aside the paperwork for a moment, as she settles into the seat behind her desk, the handsfree set allowing her to rolodex and dial at the same time. She also pulls out a business card, sliding it across the top of her desk, towards the two men sitting there. She waits, what seems like too long, before she finally gets an answer, but, again, with the headset, only one side of the conversation comes through, "Caleb. We need a few more hours on the petition." A pause, as she listens, "It's bad. She won't. I already did." Pause, "Alright, call me back when you have an answer."
—-
Ethan snorts in response and tests the waters, so to speak, with the coffee but retracts when it once again proves to be too hot at the moment. He settles for watching too and when the business card is brought out he makes to stand and glances sidelong towards James. James looks up to the other man and then moves to stand as well. The werewolf of the two repositions the files against his side. The both of them head over though Ethan beats James to the desk. "Thank you, ma'am," comments Ethan before lifting a hand to wave. With coffee and the like, he's moving to leave. James lingers, eyeing the receptionist for a moment longer before looking around the area, and then moves to leave as well, picking up his pace in order to catch up with his partner.
—-
The business card Desiree hands over is one of her own, rather than one for the firm, but she does look up as the two officer's approach her, "Thank you for coming. I'm sure if Miss Savoy were…she would see you if she could." Clearly the paralegal has more than a good amount of training, and her voice is only slightly off. As the two men move to leave, she steps away from her desk, moving back towards the closed door of the what would be the corner office, if the building had such a thing. The door she cracks, just the smallest amount, peeking in. And for more normal senses, nothing seems amiss. For those with enhanced senses, there's just a hint of the metallic tang of blood, and a small, pained sound.
—-
"Ethan, here, run these to the department - I need to handle a few things."
It's all James states and the pair of officers trust each other enough to where it's only that and no arguing between the two of them. It's just a law firm, there cannot be anything truly amiss. Still, Ethan quips back that he's only running and coming back a-s-a-p, leading Young to twist his lips into a brief smirk and nod. Then, he turns with a pat to Ethan's upper back and they split up with Young heading for the innards of the office once again thanks to his innate intuition and Ethan moving for the squad car parked outside.
"Excuse me, seems you have a bit of a problem," Young offers that to the woman, Desiree, with reassuring ease as he approaches.
—-
Desiree nearly jumps out of her skin, as the officer comes up behind her, much of her business cool having fallen away as she looked into the office. She does know enough to turn, and attempt to block the way into the office, to pull the door closed behind her, but she's not much taller than the office's owner, and there's just the smallest view of the office, in a rather remarkable state of disarray, and while there's no view of the office's occupant, the smell of blood and hurt is stronger, and her voice, still accented, but hoarse, ragged and painful, "Almost finished. Fax."
—-
Young looks towards Desiree for a lingering moment and it's the same look he had given her moments prior, dubiously so. Still, she's not at any serious fault just yet, but, "I'm not sure Miss Savoy told you yet, but you should step aside in about two seconds." One second passes with a flash of a glance towards the door and the second moment shifts him closer to the door and reaching forward with his left hand to breech while his right hand's fingers hold close to the sidearm at his hip. Here's to hoping it isn't necessary, and here's to hoping the smell goes away when he pushes the door aside in full.
—-
The smell doesn't go away, as the door opens, even if Desiree does step aside to allow the police officer to step into the room. In the background, she rushes back over to the phone, her voice high, almost plaintive, as she dials the phone, "Caleb, Caleb, pick up your damned phone!" Instead, it just gets worse. Mignonette is sitting at the meeting table, rather than her desk, files and forms spread out around her, along with a few open law books. She looks…battered, might be a good word, though there's no obvious bruising to her skin, though there's redness around her eyes, sweat on her face, her hair not in its usual upsweep, but falling around her face. She's shaking, breathing harsh and painful, a handkerchief pressed to her nose, once cleaned and pressed white, now stained with her blood. It seems to be taking everything out of her to be sitting upright, and working. She can't even seem to spare the energy or the attention to look up at the opening door.
—-
James casts a brief glance over his shoulder in the direction of the fleeting receptionist and then directs her attention back forward, towards Mignonette. She's conscious and awake, the blood coming from the nose. He lifts his hand from his holstered sidearm and instead directs it towards the radio at his shoulder, leaning in towards it and radioing ahead for Ethan to turn about and then he's calling in for paramedics as well. In those passing moments, he's stepping forward and then coming to stand a handful of feet away from the woman. In lifting his hands to gesture he's - more or less- here to help, the officer begins to speak up, "Miss Savoy, it's officer Young, you there? I need you to -stop- what you're doing and -sit- still."
—-
"Go away, don't need you." Mignonette continues working, having to use extra pressure to keep her hand steady on the paperwork, but oddly, it's as if this isn't the first time she's had to do this, and she uses her other hand, lowering it to hold the paper still, to keep it from sliding around while she works. The call for the other officer and the paramedics go uncommented, at least by Mignonette, but there's a flurry of activity as Desiree rushes back from the front desk, slamming the door open with her hand, "Three hours." Something about the extension seems to change Mignonette's focus, and she pushes aside the paper, needing a real effort to unclench her hand from her pen, before she tries to get out of the seat, "Need my things." With her thoughts no longer quite so compartmentalized, she turns her face towards the officer, her eyes not really looking at him. It's, well, odd, "Help…James," something she's never called you before, "hard to see." Desiree tries to get in, but there's a wall of police officer in her way, "Her briefcase, there, on her desk, give it to her."
—-
James deadpans and reaches up with a hand to rub his forehead. This is why things are so frustrating; yet, in the end, he merely pushes things aside and foregoes actually doing his job in order to move deeper into the room and find the briefcase. "Right," offhandedly he responds and then holds it up, crossing back over towards Mignonette and then setting it down before her. Then, he turns away to stand in the corner and become a hood ornament until the others respond. Every few moments, his radio picks up with voices and he responds.
—-
"Thank you," comes the woman's answer, as she pulls open the briefcase, allowing paper and chalk pastels to spill out, but she's still unsteady, as she spreads sheets of the paper out on the floor, picking up the pastels, seemingly at random, as she starts to draw, using fingers to smudge as she works, "James, sit, help me sit up." But the majority of her attention seems to be focused on what she's drawing, on the background and the bits and pieces that seem to be flowing out of her like some strange fluid. And as the image starts to or continues to take shape, her breathing seems to be improving, her reaction to, well, whatever it is, diminishing.
—-
James stands aside for a lingering moment and then steps back over, as slow and cautious as any other time from moments prior; yet, in the end, there he is helping Mignonette up into a somewhat proper sitting position. He stands there behind her with his arms folded over his chest and with a brief glance he catches the scent and sight of others in the distance. His right hand lifts up a bit to signal for them to wait, long enough for the drawing to finish - as strange and peculiar as things have been. After a bit, he steps aside and closer to the entrance.
—-
Whatever the image that might have been, not intended, but imagined, it's nothing compared to what comes out, in shades of black, white, dark green, red from her own blood, her face smeared with pastels from where she exchanged blood for pigment. It's night, the forest, perhaps a full moon, or close to it, given the shadowing on the ground. And a small woman, hispanic, her face as clear as a portrait, down on the ground, fighting, but losing, as a massive animal,a wolf, above her, mauls her shoulder. Mignonette continues working, and then, abruptly, the well runs dry and she stops. And turning back to face you, she's, well, her body doesn't look 100 percent, but her eyes are as clear and lucid as ever. She offers the painting to you, "You have to find her. She's out there, and she needs your help."
—-
James looks away from the nearby paramedics back towards the image and then up to Mignonette, switching his look between the two points of interest before shifting into a small nod of his head. The image does not help him, not in the least. He reaches up with his right hand and rubs over the marking there, the scar, before signaling for the paramedics to move into the room while he steps back. "I will," he states flatly, still taken aback.
—-
"You don't believe me." It's not an accusation, not a judgement. It's said softly, calmly, as she finally turns away from you, allowing the paramedics to check her over, make certain she's alright. She doesn't seem to be in the mood to give them any trouble, simply settling onto the edge of her desk while they work her over. She makes no further attempt to get you to stay, taking your smooth retreat for what it is.
—-
"I do, I just need to go - I'll be over here," Young replies in turn. He doesn't speak up any further and since the paramedics have taken over the scene, the police officer can retreat in full and step out into the main office area with his hands on his hips. Ethan approaches once again, coming to a stop before James and looking off towards the entrance into the office. James speaks up quietly but with assurance returning to his tones, "See if you can get a copy of the picture she drew. Take care of things easily enough."
—-
Desiree has stepped out of the office, doing damage control, as she always does, moving appointments around, shuttling calls where they need to go, watching the officer as he steps back out of the office, the paramedics almost finished with their examination. "Thank you," she offers to him, but whatever else she might have said is set aside, as his partner returns.
—-
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Hey, you going to be okay? You look a bit out of it, what went on in there?" Then again, with Ethan fielding that question to James, both of the officers turn in unison to look towards Desiree's approach. James squints a bit and Ethan turns to more of a reassuring smile. Still, the both of them nod in return - even if it's more so towards James than Ethan. James turns back to Ethan and nods a bit before sharing a few more words, culminating in him moving to depart the offices of Savoy and Savoy altogether. He needs air.
—-
And so, with the officers departing, and the paramedics soon following, having found nothing substantially wrong with the woman that couldn't easily be written off as an extreme case of overwork, the law office is once again quiet, here in the late afternoon, save for the occasional sound of the phone, and Desiree's smooth voice on the line. And somewhere, back in her office, Mignonette has returned to work.
