Wrapping Up Some Loose Ends

[skybright]

Daws approached Our Lady of Refuge in decidedly mixed spirits; she wasn't looking forward to discussing funerals, particularly when she had a large sum of money from the man who'd caused the funerals burning a hole in her coat pocket.

She pushed open the front gate of the church and waved halfheartedly at Mike Whitebird, who was industriously bent over one of the parish flower beds.

"Hey, Mike." She called, without much enthusiasm, "Padre still here today?"

[Jordanna]

Mike looked up from weeding the bed of snapdragons and dusty miller. At the sight of Daws, he grinned and stood up, dusting off the knees of his faded blue jeans.

"Hi, Daws. Yeah, the Padre's here." The big mutant frowned and ambled closer to Daws. "What happened that night Padre and all the others went out, Daws? He don't seem very happy since then."

[skybright]

Daws winced and avoided Mike's gaze. "We . . . the resistance against Tiernan . . . the Scary Man, I mean . . ." She shook her head, frustrated, and finally just bit the bullet.

"We fought back against the Scary Man, Mike. Only somethin' went wrong. Some people got killed."

[Jordanna]

Mike's face fell, and he stared at the ground for a brief moment. Then he looked up again at Daws, and in his childlike way, his expression was both determined and mildly reproving.

"You shoulda taken me with you, Daws. If I was there, I wouldn'a let anybody get hurt. I coulda helped."

[skybright]

Daws couldn't help but smile at the certainty in Mike's words. She patted his arm. "I know you could've helped, Mike -- but what if something had happened to you? Who'd take care of this place?"

[Jordanna]

"Aw, nuthin'd happen to me," Mike replied innocently. "I'm tough."

[skybright]

Daws laughed. "Yeah, Mike. You are." She patted his shoulder again and headed into the church.

She glanced around the seemingly-empty church. "Padre?"

Father Rick was in the vestry, pushing a broom across the worn hardwood floor; he poked his head out into the sanctuary as Daws called his name and gave her a somewhat weary smile. "Hello, Daws."

He set the broom aside and joined the detective in the sanctuary, reaching out to grasp her hand in a handshake. "What's the news?"

Daws shook her head and chuckled wryly. "Not much since I talked to ya last night." She sighed and sank onto a pew, removing her fedora and raking her fingers through her hair. "I just got done talkin' to Tiernan."

"Ah." Father Rick sat down as well, eyeing her gravely. "Did he buy your version of Cole's past?"

"I dunno. I think so." The detective seemed suddenly very interested in the carpet. "I feel like a real jerk, Padre." She admitted. "Cole's sister went to a lotta trouble to stay outta the public eye -- and Cole's been doin' his best to keep her out, too."

"And if you hadn't given Tiernan something -- especially something that easy to uncover -- you'd have brought up suspicions that none of us can afford." The priest interjected sensibly.

"I guess so." Daws shrugged and changed the subject. "You talked to Henry and . . . their families?"

Father Rick nodded and ran a hand over his bald head. "Yes. The services are going to be next week." He sighed and added "Adrian Davis didn't tell his family what he was involved with -- I had to."

Daws winced. "And?"

Padre shook his head. "His parents were . . . upset, naturally. But his sister understood his reasons -- she helped me convince them not to tell anyone, at any rate."

Daws sighed. "Well, thank God for small favors, I guess."

[Jordanna]

Jerod Vance didn't particularly like strolling around in the daylight. He felt safer under the cover of night. However, his sources had told him some interesting things about what (or rather who) Regina Dawson was looking into at Nocturne's behest, and he was feeling curious.

A call at her office proved that she wasn't in, so he took a gamble and ventured down to Our Lady of Refuge. If nothing else, Father Steele might unintentionally provide him with some amusement, and/or information.

As he approached the front of the church, Mike Whitebird came lumbering out through the doorway. The big Native American frowned upon seeing Vance. "You here to make Padre get in trouble again?"

Vance grinned fiercely. "No, Chief. This is just a social call... I'm just visiting," he amended, seeing Mike's puzzled look. Then he opened his coat as if to let Mike inspect him. "You wanna search me, go right ahead."

Mike's scowl slid back into place, and he shook his head, turning to limp back into the church. "I seen what you do. You don't need guns."

"Maybe not, but they're kinda useful sometimes," Vance drawled, following Mike into the church.

Mike headed for where Daws and Father Steele were seated on a pew. "Padre, it's Mister Major."

The ex-Army officer smirked at Mike. "Make it easy on yourself, Chief. Just call me Vance."

[skybright]

Father Rick rose, and attempted to speak -- but Daws beat him to it. The detective's somewhat melancholy look had instantly deepened into a scowl, and she was on her feet and advancing on Major Vance, flexing her claws.

"You gotta lot of nerve comin' here in broad daylight, Vance," She snarled. "Just who d'ya think you are, anyway?"

[Jordanna]

Vance arched an eyebrow, and smiled at Daws with infuriating mildness.

"I'm the guy who knows how to plan a shindig--remember?" He flopped himself lazily onto a pew. "I just thought I'd drop in and see if you're cooking up anything yourselves. After all, I sorta seem to recall something about our people working together."

[skybright]

"Forget that." Daws hissed.

"Daws," Padre put a hand on the detective's shoulder, but she shrugged it off brusquely.

"Forget that," She snapped again, "I don't trust you any further'n I could spit a bowling ball -- an' I don't want you anywhere near any of our people." She held up a handful of extended claws and added "I told you what I'd do if you hurt any of mine."

[Jordanna]

Vance's expression darkened slightly. He stood up and took a step closer to Daws. Pulling up the right sleeve of his coat, he revealed a bandage wrapped around his forearm, just below the elbow.

"For your information, detective, that was a bullet," he said quietly. "And it was aimed at one of your civilians."

[skybright]

Daws flinched slightly, but didn't back off. "Okay, hero -- you're brave enough to take a bullet? Then how come you need to hide your heroics behind someone else's name -- someone who's already got more than enough problems without you helpin'?"

[Jordanna]

Sudden enlightenment relaxed Vance's expression, and he gave a sardonic smile as he pulled down his sleeve.

"Ah, I see now. You got your hackles--excuse me, your temper--up over that little letter I sent to our friend Tiernan." He shrugged. "That was a practical decision, detective. As long as he thinks I'm dead, I've got a lot more freedom to act. As for Doctor Van Linden, he's already forced her to ground, and got the whole city's law enforcement looking for her. Besides that, we both know she's too vulnerable in a fight. In action, she can only be a liability.

"The best thing the Doc can do is be sort of a spiritual leader to your group. I spent the last few years of my career fighting Muslim terrorists; I know how potent a figurehead can be. By the time I'm through, Tiernan's gonna be scared of her very name. She'll be the best weapon we've got--and she'll never even have to lift a finger."

He smiled. "You see, I'm not hiding behind her name, Miss Dawson. I'm building it."

[skybright]

Daws' scowl lightened somewhat. "Leavin' aside the fact that the Doc agrees with ya," She said brusquely, "You didn't have the right t'do somethin' like that. You didn't have the right to use her like that."

Padre cleared his throat. "I'm curious as to how that's fundamentally different than what you did with Cole's information today." He said quietly.

Daws wheeled to face the priest, looking shocked. "That's a low blow, Padre."

"I've been known to make them." Father Rick crossed his arms. "We're in a war, Daws: I may not like what the Boyo did much more than you -- but the call's already been made. Squabbling over it doesn't change it -- and if you insist on doin' so," He frowned, "Just keep in mind that you're the pot callin' the kettle black, just at present."

Daws' face darkened . . . but then she sighed and chuckled humorlessly. "You gotta valid point, Padre." She sank back onto the pew.

"Okay, Vance, so I owe you sort of an apology." She shrugged. "But you still ain't in my best graces right now -- so don't push it."

[Jordanna]

Vance chuckled. "I don't expect ever to be in your best graces, detective." Then his expression softened just a little, and he added, "I wouldn't mind it someday, though."

Before Daws could ask him what he meant by that, he sat down as well with a shrug. "But the Padre here brings up something I'm kinda curious about--the whole reason I came down here, in fact. I heard from my own sources that you've been poking around in the closet of that politician Cole. I know Tiernan does some horse-trading leading up to elections, but I got the drift there's something strange going on in this case."

[skybright]

Daws hesitated -- and then shrugged. "So long as you aren't gonna go off on any more letter-writing campaigns, you might as well know.

"Tiernan was planning on putting his clout to work gettin' Cole elected -- only Cole came down with a 'headache', and bowed outta the meeting."

Daws ran a hand through her hair. "Turns out that the reason for that is the same reason Cole's runnin' on a pro-mutant platform. He's one of us -- a telepath." She chuckled dryly and shot Vance a mocking look.

"Only Tiernan doesn't know that -- so try an' keep it to yourself, yeah?"

[Jordanna]

Vance winced slightly. He had the most minor level of telepathic perception, himself--and even that was a discomfort he struggled with frequently. He could sympathize with James Marcus Cole.

"I got no reason to spill it to anyone," he murmured. "I can guess Cole got the crawling creeps from whatever it was he saw in Tiernan's head. The only thing I'm wondering is what he's going to do about it."

[skybright]

Daws grinned crookedly. "He's gonna take another meeting with Tiernan -- and agree to play nicely in exchange for Tiernan's help."

She held up a hand at the look on Vance's face. "Lemme finish. Cole knows about our resistance." She looked sheepish, "Me and the kid kinda got a little bit caught snooping around his apartment.

"So he's gonna do more or less what I do -- go along with Tiernan, and then use what he learns to fight him." She shrugged one shoulder. "Heck, with Tiernan's help Cole might just get elected -- and that'd give us clout we could certainly use."

[Jordanna]

Vance cracked a smile. "Pretty impressive work, detective."

He stood up. "I'll have to pass a quiet word to my boys that Cole's on our side. Don't worry, they won't get curious." With a chuckle, he added, "If it comes to it, you can bet he'll even get their votes."

For a moment, he seemed about to turn and walk away, but then he paused and glanced at Daws. "By the way, in case you hadn't heard about it, there's going to be a big science conference in town next week. Some of the eggheads on the guest list don't have the nicest opinion of our kind. You might want to keep an eye on it--I am." He smiled grimly. "And I'm betting Tiernan will be, too."