The Curious Case of Deirdre Dolan | Reed & Regan

sciencebanshee:

Deirdre’s absence
was an almost physical ache that Regan felt in her heart every day. She knew
Deirdre was alive; she quite literally
sensed it in her bones, but alive didn’t mean well. And with each day that passed, so too did their chances of
finding Deirdre. Even with Regan’s emotional investment in this case, she
approached it logically. She knew how most Missing Persons cases fared.

But Regan
would do everything within her power to ensure that Deirdre’s case didn’t end
up that way. That Deirdre didn’t end
up that way. As long as she remained alive, Regan would look. That began here,
at Deirdre’s place of work—somewhere Deirdre talked about a lot, but Regan had
never been to visit until now. The bitter irony of that fact—that it took
Deirdre going missing for Regan to
see how she worked—stung in her chest. Wasn’t that just always the damn case?
Regan trailed next to Reed, trying hard not to allow herself to be distracted.
Success would necessitate a clear mind. They would have success.

Even though
the two of them were in a relationship now, Regan had never been the needy
type. But she’d wanted Reed here. Both because Reed and Deirdre had a strange
friendship, and because as an officer Reed would know what types of questions
to ask, and how to press someone to answer them properly. Had the circumstances
been better, Regan was pretty sure she’d actually relish the opportunity to see
Reed get confrontational with witnesses. But
the circumstances weren’t better, and
she knew this wasn’t going to be easy. There was nothing about this to cherish
or enjoy. Not unless it led directly to Deirdre.

Her fingers
reached for Reed’s hand, but she knew they needed to give off an air of
absolute professionalism. That meant no indicating the nature of their
relationship. Her personal policy of not dating co-workers flashed in her head
as a reminder—it had existed for a reason—but she chided that thought with the
fact she and Reed weren’t technically
employed by the same state agencies. Working side by side like this was rare,
and this specific instance wasn’t even “on the clock”. But professionalism. She
brushed his fingers then pulled her arm back to her side. Stayed close by him
as they filed out of the elevator and went to talk to the receptionist. Regan
wasn’t sure what she expected, but the floor Deirdre had worked on looked like
any old office. A faint chill rolled down her spine, but she chalked it up to
nerves. She checked the pocket of her jacket to make sure her Office of the
Medical Examiner ID was facing out and could be easily read.

Regan tilted
her head slightly at the strange expression that scurried over the receptionist’s
face. There was some undertone there. It seemed like Reed had picked up on it,
but Regan’s eyes were on the woman’s desk. Tidy and perfectly manicured,
everything in place. She worked with actuaries. Was it any wonder? Her visual
examination of the receptionist’s working area was interrupted when Reed turned
to look at her, a doleful expression rendered on his face. “Reed?” Regan mouthed
his name, careful to stay silent so the receptionist wouldn’t register his…
what, his reluctance? They needed to do this. They were here to do this. Regan
licked her lips and sighed, eyeing the floor. Thankfully, Reed seemed to find
his voice again.

It wasn’t
long before a William Talbot came marching down the hallway. There was
something about his demeanor that immediately made Regan take a step closer to
Reed. He had big, wiry eyebrows that gave his face a permanent aggravated look,
and massive hands that Regan half thought would take hers right off her radius
and ulna when they shook hands. “Officer Han, Doctor.” He grunted the greeting. Was this man really a bureaucrat? Or did he just murder all
of the real bureaucrats and take over their offices? He was certainly imposing
enough…

“Doctor Kavanagh.” Regan clarified. Reed got a last name greeting; why shouldn’t she? Probably because he didn’t remember her name, she thought sourly. He didn’t seem to appreciate that, but at least he was relatively cordial. “I think we’d better discuss this in my office,” Talbot said, gesturing down the hallway. Regan nodded and glanced at Reed before they followed Talbot into his office-and-possibly-murder-locker. The bile started to rise in her throat and her stomach knotted up as doubts about the usefulness of what they were about to embark on clouded her concentration. “He’ll know something,” she said quietly, “someone here will know something.”

The corridor was suffocatingly narrow and brightly lit with the kind of lights that kept any form of sleep away. On either side of them there were doors; some were open, some closed, some left curiously ajar — Reed peered into the rooms he could while they passed by, trying to paint a picture in his head of its day to day operations and the people who inhabited the space. Along the way, there was a closed door with a name plate that read Deirdre Dolan and Reed’s heart plummeted just about twenty stories. It felt like he got sucker punched in his diaphragm and had the air forcibly knocked out of him, it felt like there was a brace squeezed miserably tight around him. He almost choked on his saliva when he swallowed. In front of them, William seemed unfazed and continued down the hallway.

Reed diverted his attention from William to Regan when her words crept into the forefront of his brain, quietly asking for his consideration. Then he noticed how much closer she was to him than usual during their walk when he glimpsed her way, shoulders performing an unspoken dance of tango. Someone here will know something. Deirdre’s office certainly would better than anyone else. So he nodded minimally, placed a hand on Regan’s back in acknowledgment of what she said and eased closer, murmuring, “We should ask to look around her office before we leave.” When he turned his head, William’s profile was to them both and he was waiting, door into his office wide open with his back grazing against the laminated grain. Reed pulled away from Regan after a quick circular rub against her upper back and stepped into the office immediately. 

William smoothed out his red-patterned tie while he adjusted himself in his executive chair, “You can call me Bill.” Bill. What would Deirdre call him? Robert, and Dick for short? Reed eventually sat down after a general once-over of William’s office with a posture between comfortable and professional; the room was stuffy and a bit chaotic in certain areas, the walls were sparsely covered with ironic pictures inside of decorative frames. A man of morbid humour though he didn’t look like it. The light shined dimmest above his head and flickered occasionally. On the desk, faced towards Reed and Regan, were family portraits and general hobbyist photos; Deirdre didn’t like hearing about what Bill did over the weekend. Reed surmised he was an active, family man when he wasn’t working and greatly enjoyed life. Or it was just a simple facade, a blanket excuse to use when convenient.

In the moment, William primarily looked at Reed with an expectancy to lead the way while he looked at Regan with a half-masked mix of reservation and confusion. Additionally, his eyes kept darting back to her ID, skepticism and scrutiny less subtle than before. Reed could see the questions pushing outwards against the surface of William’s skin and his lips tensed then loosened — undecided about his manner of approach. He remembered Regan’s earlier correction to the man out in the reception area. William’s mouth began to round and he sucked in a deep breath in preparation but before he could inquire about her presence, Reed interrupted.

Hands folded calmly on top of his lap, he said politely but firmly, “Bill, I can see that Doctor Kavanagh’s title intrigues you an enormous amount but any questions regarding her expertise are not why we are here.” He smiled kindly, “I promise you she is a very qualified individual. If it’s okay with you, I suggest you shelve those questions for a later time so we can proceed with why we’re actually here…” William’s mouth closed promptly, having enough sense to read between the lines and maintain some level of respectability. William nodded immediately in response, appearing startled in the eyes and adjusted his tie again. A nervous tic. “Thank you, Bill.” 

“What can I help you two with?” William offered, eager to help, and leaned forward with both elbows propped against his desktop with a pair of a giant’s hands clasped together. Then he reached for his office phone, one finger hovering above the page button. “Would either of you like some water? Coffee? A Nature Valley bar— Those are great, hard or soft. Any combination. My daughter got me hooked on their biscuits! Huuuuuge fan of their cocoa-almond biscuit sandwiches, let me tell you. I always have to have one with me when I go hiking.” Reed suspected he might actually have a box in one of his drawers with how overly enthusiastic he sounded while he rambled, or it was his nerves responding to the atmosphere around him. Had Reed been the cause of that? “Have either of you tried their granola cups? I—”

“Mr.—” Reed attempted to say a few times with a softened near hushed voice, not exactly wanting to interrupt the man in front of them but William had fallen right down into a Nature Valley rabbit hole, before he raised a pacifying hand. William’s voice quietened into a fade, trailing off mid-sentence. “Mr. Talbot, we’d just like to ask you a few questions and see Deirdre’s office before we leave.” Though his stomach did rumble at the mention of food. Reed tried to look sympathetic this time around, “We’ll be brief.”

“Oh, right, of course. That’s a no to the call of nature then…” Was the first thing out of William’s mouth followed by an awkward chuckle. “I love hiking.” His continued reactions piqued Reed’s interest in the man. Could and would he crack under pressure? Then William pulled back slightly, perfectly embodying a turtle retreating into its shell. Had Reed’s attempt to calm the man not worked? Rather than prolong the inevitable and dance around niceties anymore, Reed seized ahold of the moment like a shark smelling blood.

“That’s alright, Bill.” A pause to blink after processing everything William said then, “What was your professional relationship like with Mrs. Dolan? Were you two close outside of work? And when did you last speak to or see her?”

The Curious Case of Deirdre Dolan | Reed & Regan

Deirdre Dolan was a life actuary. Which, if given too much thought, was incredibly complimentary to being a banshee. It was strange setting foot into a domain she must have known very well; such feeling quickly became heavy and suffocating when the only reason for coming here was to — by way of question — announce her absence, if it wasn’t already obvious. Before he and Regan stepped inside of the small commercial building, Reed thought about several things during the drive to Deirdre’s former place of work. He thought about Antichthon and Nadene, he thought about Regan’s own convictions when he glimpsed at her.

They both believed differently but Reed, many times, felt there was a kind of cruelness in insisting the only place Deirdre could and must be was in that underground prison. So he never said anything beyond that day when Regan told him Deirdre was gone. This, coming here with the intent to interview her colleagues, was possibly Regan’s own form of closure. Reed’s was spent sat alone in his car after Nadene told him she’s not here, going back and forth between laughing and crying at the absurdity. She has to be, she has to be, she has— That was an emotionally dark day. In the elevator, he realized he wasn’t sure what he looked at Regan for — guidance? Reassurance? Comfort? Whatever it was, he decided not to linger on it for too long.

When the doors opened and they were both on the correct floor, standing in front of the receptionist’s desk, Reed greeted himself stiffly, “I’m Officer Reed Han and this is my partner, Doctor Regan Kavanagh.” When he extended his arm out as a form of gesture to her, Reed smiled politely. Clearing his throat suddenly, he said, “I called here yesterday and scheduled an appointment with your boss… William Talbot.”

“Regarding?” Her finger was already on the page button on her desk phone, pending with an arched eyebrow and wide eyes that seemed bright with underhanded intention. He recognized that look. Breakroom gossip. Reed went quiet for a moment, reminded of the joke Deirdre made some time ago about killing her boss and his mouth screwed up. I’ll dedicate his murder to you. Well, he certainly was still alive. What Nadene said drifted by as well, all of it coiling inside of his head until he turned his head to look at Regan again, this time out of unspoken desperation, internally saying he couldn’t do this. Nadene had said, it’d be easy to say it was her. He was too biased.

Instead of turning away from the desk and leaving the office like he wanted to, Reed leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice to a murmur, “He knows why we’re here.”

“Mr. Talbot, your ten o’clock is here.”