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Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 4, 2010 15:41:02 GMT -8
Wes was high-strung enough not to notice Atticus' question. He usually had a way of noticing when people were watching, but right now he was just too busy freaking out about Henning. His temper had certainly gotten the better of him. Lashing out like a cornered animal wasn't doing him any favors here, and just attracting more unwanted attention. But he was high-strung, in pain (the bite was still there, after all), irritated, and frankly scared of what this guy was hiding.
"Admiring my car?" He sneered. "That's bull! If you were so curious you should have asked me in the parking lot or said something when I sat down here. You admired it enough to look for my name, but not to acknowledge me? And if you say that you didn't recognize me, you are terrible at your job. Not to mention I saw you get a perfectly good look at me while I was in the diner, long before I got in my car. It is not about the car! You're lying!"
After his tirade he retreated slightly, not looking any less angry.
"That's none of your business, the story is boring, and you are intrusive as hell."
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Post by David Young Henning on Dec 4, 2010 17:37:15 GMT -8
Henning was not especially concerned about patching the holes in his story. He didn't have anything to prove, and Uccello's rambling meant nothing to those who hadn't been present at the diner. All in all the man seemed more paranoid than innocence would warrant; too observant, too watchful. Much like Henning himself, though he guessed for different reasons. Surely Charlotte was wondering by now what this was all about... He resolved to tell her later, when things had cooled down a bit. He put down his fork and said, sounding bored:
"Well, I'm not sure what you're implying with that rather convoluted account, but you did choose to sit at this table. I should wonder what you want of me. And please keep your voice down, people are trying to eat here."
After a moment's consideration, he added, "And if you don't want to do that, we can sort through this outside. Maybe you haven't asked yourself this question yet, but why on earth would I follow you around? Unless, of course, you think I'd have a reason to do so..."
He noticed Charlotte looking tickled about something and turned back to her, allowing himself a puzzled smile to bleed through the tension. Well, at least one of us finds this amusing. "I'm really sorry about this, Charlotte. This is kind of an inauspicious reunion, but we've got time to turn things around. I just got here, and I assume you can stay your wanderlust long enough for us to catch up?"
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Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 4, 2010 18:23:06 GMT -8
"Smooth, Tamika. Real smooth." Tamika couldn't completely understand why Polly was so startled by her asking for work. Everywhere else she had worked people were constantly yelling at her to do this or that. The lack of work for her to do, while refreshing, was disquieting to Tamika. "I hope I'm not just causing her trouble."
Slightly embarrassed, Tamika replied, "If that is the case then maybe it would be better to wait for everyone to be done eating first, so all the dishes can be done at once. Sorry that I bothered you." She was about to walk off somewhere to sit when her attention was drawn back to the table by Raincloud's yelling. "Dang, Raincloud has turned into a full blown thunderstorm." Tamika glanced at the man Raincloud was yelling at. He was the man in the suit Tamika had seen entering the hotel with Charlotte earlier. She had not paid much attention to him then, but was completely curious about him now. Tamika wondered for a little bit who he was until she remembered what Raincloud had addressed the suit man as.
"Agent. Like as in FBI Agent?" Tamika grew very worried. She tried not to let it show, but was pretty sure anyone looking at her face could tell. Tamika glanced at the tables to assess her options. "Agent who may be FBI or fat guy who is most definitely hiding something. Lovely." Deciding that the fat man was the lesser of two evils, she sat down next to Atticus. "Guess I was wrong," Tamika managed to say in her perky voice, though it did quiver a bit, "Man, I thought a hotel this size would need more work." She forced a small laugh and asked, "Hey, do either of you know about the guy in the suit over there?" "Maybe you can be of some use Kaysen."
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Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
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Post by Polly on Dec 4, 2010 18:53:41 GMT -8
Polly nodded at the requests for milk and sugar. She turned back to Tamika, startled again. "Oh, you're not bothering me! Not at all! I'm just a little surprised at how eager you are. Back when we used to hire on a few people every summer, it seemed like nobody wanted to do anyth--"
Polly was interrupted by Mr. Raincloud banging on the table and shouting. Stunned, she watched as he and Mr. Henning got into a full-blown argument. Henning remained surprisingly calm, but Charlotte actually seemed to be amused by the whole thing.
Polly, caught up in the spectacle, listened a bit more. Oh. So this was Mr. Wes. Oops. Small world, isn't it? And wait, did Mr. Henning say he was an FBI agent? Either that or an insurance agent. She wasn't really sure. Oh. Right. Milk and sugar.
Polly hurried off to the kitchen and came back, wanting to get this over with. She supposed she needed to calm things down--she didn't want a fist fight in her hotel, after all. She just...needed to figure out how to do that. Henning looked as collected as always and seemed to be on the verge of exiting. Wes looked as mad as ever.
Polly thrust the pitcher of milk and the sugar basin out as far as she could, which happened to end up about three inches away from Wes's face. "Sugar?" she screeched suddenly, panicking slightly.
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Post by Forrest Kaysen on Dec 5, 2010 3:09:48 GMT -8
Atlas's question seemed to just roll off of Kaysen's shoulders like the rain had been - he shrugged, taking another swig from his coffee mug. "Got me. Looks like someone brought a little more baggage with 'em than just their luggage!" He watched the argument for a moment - internally quite amused - but was distracted when the girl suddenly came back and sat nearby. So much for things to do...either she had been trying to run away for whatever reason or she was an airhead.
If she was an airhead, well, everyone saw where that got Anna.
He chuckled, giving another shrug to her. "I got no idea! I'm as in the dark as a moth in a power outage. Polly said somethin' about some bigshot Agent comin' in to town to investigate a murder. Could be him, I guess, don't know many people who dress that nice in this town."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Dec 5, 2010 4:07:31 GMT -8
Charlotte realized that David, and anyone else for that matter, probably had no idea why she thought the whole thing was amusing. Ah well, she mentally shrugged, doesn’t really bother me. You have to find amusement where you can, after all. Though Wes appeared to have a hell of a temper. She was glad that it appeared to have eased back from the immediate threat of violence. For the moment.
“Don’t worry about it. Things happen,” she told him with a smile. “For you, I think I can stay my wanderlust indefinitely. So we have plenty of time to turn things around.”
That was about the time Polly returned to the table looking nervous and concerned, milk pitcher and sugar cup in hand. She... proceeded to thrust them out at arm’s length and nearly clocked Wes in the face with them. Charlotte couldn’t help the grin that burst onto her face. She kind of liked the hotel owner, and appreciated her trying to defuse the situation.
She got to her feet and put a reassuring hand on Polly’s shoulder. If nothing else, maybe she could draw Wes’ ire her way instead.
“Look, as much as I find your baiting and tap dancing around each other fascinating... You may have noticed you’re not exactly the only people IN this dining hall. Do y’think that maybe... just maybe... you could save the yelling for AFTER breakfast?”
Charlotte dropped her hand from Polly’s shoulder and took a step away, putting herself directly in between the other woman and Wes. She threw him a smirk, before glancing at David.
“Wes here does fib a little. The story is riveting,” she said, sarcasm practically dripping off the last word. “Apparently the Albireo Graveyard is a veritable party spot in Greenvale. Ran into him taking his hawk for a walk. He snarked at me, I threw it back at him. We proceeded to trade barbs for a bit while Tamika and Atticus conversed nearby. Amusingly, Atticus thought we were married. Had to instruct him as to the simple enjoyment of a battle of words and wits, and that it’s NOT a sign of marriage. Not sure he believed me...” she finished pensively.
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Post by Atlas on Dec 5, 2010 9:50:49 GMT -8
"Perhaps they brought their own little lover's spat with them." Atlas reply in a snarky tone, a bit louder than usual. "Probably not, but there is a chance. Let them think I'm a fool." he thought to himself.
Tamika had joined them as well for some reason, and opted to sit next to Atlas. "Geez, whatever argument is going on must be serious enough to want to sit in the company of FK and I." he thought. Then again, hawk man looked like the type who would swing at someone is throughly provoked, and all FK would do is tell a bad metaphor and laugh.
"Beats me. All I know is that he has some sort of beef with hawk man." he replied. However, FK's response was able to shed some light on the situation. "So he is an FBI Agent. Thanks for the confirmation, FK."
He listened to the rest of their conversation. Finally, Charlotte had stepped in to intervene and calm the two of them down. He also noted that she was still going on about the marriage incident. "Ohh, I understood perfectly well, Ms. Jacobs." he thought. Let her thing he's an idiot. All the better for him.
He turned to Tamika "Have you had anything to eat yet?"
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Post by Tamika Weir on Dec 5, 2010 10:48:22 GMT -8
"I heard Raincloud call him an agent. So that's probably him." "S-H-I-T!" She still seemed nervous behind her forced smile and this confirmation of her fears was not helping at all. Yet, she still persevered in her effort to seem as perky as possible despite everything. "I did not realize that a murder was enough to justify sending the FBI here."
Atticus's question slightly startled Tamika. "Oh! Uh...no I haven't." She laughed a little."I guess with everything I forgot to get myself anything." While speaking, Tamika began waving her hand around under the table. Her hope was that the movement would catch Willie's attention. "If I'm going to sit at a table with this...fat man I want some moral support damnit! And there's no way in hell I'm going to pet Atticus."
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Post by Atlas on Dec 5, 2010 11:10:56 GMT -8
"Probably not." Atlas replied. "Though there are instances where the FBI will send someone if it matches a trend. Perhaps whoever is behind Anna Graham's murder is in fact a serial killer." "Definitely an agent. So, FK, why were you so concerned about the man?"
He also noted that Tamika hadn't eaten yet. "You must be hungry. You should grab something to eat. Enjoy yourself like the rest of us." he said to her helpfully. "I'll hold down the fort here..."
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Post by David Young Henning on Dec 5, 2010 12:43:11 GMT -8
The other diners kept glancing over at the ruckus on their side of the room. So much for staying inconspicuous. At some point in the proceedings, Polly had returned and was drawing attention to herself the way a feather duster collects dust; hustling and bustling around the table with her milk and sugar, scattering the animosity that had built up around their table. And now Charlotte seemed to be intervening in the intervention, getting to her feet and admonishing the two men for making such a fuss in public. But she was smiling as she did so, smiling as she said that she would wait for him... It wasn't until those words that he realized how much it meant to him, that she had put up so far with his secrecy and constantly getting distracted. Charlotte didn't ask questions of him, didn't seem intent on knowing what it was he and Uccello were arguing about. In fact she seemed to think this was some kind of joke... As if she was watching two little boys playing cops and robbers.
She was right; he'd been acting like a child. If he were to go easy on himself, he could chalk his behavior down to almost eight months of hallucinatory convalescence, plus what the doctors had called "a minor case of retrograde amnesia". That sort of thing had a tendency to fray one's social inhibitions. Still, no excuses. And he really ought not to get too involved, even though his every impulse was screaming at him to keep driving Uccello against a wall until something broke. He could afford to back off a little, at least until Agent York showed up...
"You're right, Charlotte, this is getting out of hand. Polly, I apologize for the disruption we've been causing. Uccello... Wes... Whatever you've been calling yourself... Here's my number. My e-mail is in the listings. If you really want to continue this discussion, contact me. According to you, we have a lot to talk about, so consider this my way of humoring your... concern."
He ripped out a page of his notebook with his hotel extension written on it and slid it across the table towards the hawk man. Wishing Charlotte would sit down- he had the uncomfortable feeling she was going to turn and walk right out of the room at any moment- he said, "So, back to regular small talk. You mentioned almost every guest in this room met in a graveyard? You're right, that doesn't sound boring at all. I'm assuming by your tone that there wasn't a funeral going on, so what brought you all together? Or is hanging out in graveyards some Greenvale tradition that I'm not familiar with?"
He took a mouthful of pancake as he waited for someone to respond, and realized he'd forgotten how hungry he was.
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Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 5, 2010 15:49:28 GMT -8
Wes was all ready to go at it again. Henning's nonchalance was only serving to make him angrier, and he prepared his answers in his head.
"First of all, why on Earth you would follow me is what I've been trying-"
At this point Polly shrieked and thrust some sugar into his face, causing him to recoil as if it were an open flame. This was enough to make him take a deep breath, and Charlotte's chiding had him quickly assess the situation. He was freaking out over breakfast, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. Probably negative attention. They were staring, probably trying to figure out what was wrong with this Wes fellow. Charlotte was actually physically separating him from Polly; what, did she think he was going to go off and attack an old lady? He usually preferred when people had the wrong idea about him, but not when that meant them incriminating him...
His look went from outright angry to frustrated and uncomfortable as he seemed to shrink, moving into a more comfortable position in his seat and letting his hair fall into his face. "Thanks," he said rather loudly to Polly, proceeding to add sugar to his tea as the others continued, apparently having nothing to say about the argument.
Somewhat reluctantly he took the paper that the agent had slid across to him, stuffing it into his coat pocket. "Fine, I'll do this your way," he conceded with a sigh before taking a sip of his tea. However, he didn't let it slip past him that Henning had addressed him as "Uccello"... Who told him that, now?
He took another bite of his pancakes before joining in to the conversation again, without any particular urgency.
"No funeral, I was just wandering. I think that was the case for one of the others, too." Somehow, even in what was supposed to be polite conversation, he still sounded quite frustrated.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Dec 5, 2010 16:26:13 GMT -8
Charlotte didn’t think Wes would do any such thing, actually. Mostly she was just trying to avoid being that much in anyone’s personal space. She had no doubt that he wouldn’t harm Polly. Now... David, on the other hand... She wasn’t so sure. Which was also part of why she’d ended up where she did. On the slightest off chance Wes went for him.
She allowed herself a moment of relief that it appeared there wasn’t going to be a fistfight in the dining hall. Wes had back down some, and David didn’t appear to be going to pursue it further at this junction. Nicking a couple of spoonfuls of sugar from the bowl Polly was holding, she deposited them in her tea cup and carefully stirred the fragrant liquid. Then she returned to her seat across from David, sitting down and taking a sip of tea.
I should probably grab some pancakes. She was rather content with her tea for the moment, though.
Smiling slightly over the rim of her cup, she nodded at Wes’ summary of the graveyard incident.
“It was mostly wandering on everyone’s part, I think, though Atticus was picnicking and I was doing a bit of photography as well,” she added. And since then I’ve run into them practically everywhere.
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Post by David Young Henning on Dec 5, 2010 17:40:40 GMT -8
"Atticus? You mean the lawyer fellow?" Henning twisted sideways to glance at the curly-haired man sitting at the other table. "Didn't it strike either of you as at all odd that he'd be having a picnic by himself in such a morbid environment?"
Between the administrations of both Charlotte and Polly, things seemed to have settled down, although Uccello was visibly still smoldering inside that bloody bomber jacket of his. But surprisingly, he had accepted the scrap with Henning's number, which meant that this was only a prelude to a possible future confrontation. Henning tried to imagine what the outcome might be and found it surprisingly difficult; Uccello Jr. had a temper, sure, but the profile Henning had been building on him painted a very different picture than what was known of the father. The way he was sulking now only confirmed Henning's theory that this was a man who was more used to lying low than flying high. It must have taken Uccello some force of will to take that piece of paper.
At any rate, there was no longer a need for further cat-and-mouse antagonizing. Henning had made his offer, and if he'd calculated correctly, it would be Uccello's paranoia rather than his curiosity that would drive him to seek out answers. Henning was sure that if he hadn't telegraphed his intentions so blatantly, Uccello would have been perfectly fine with ignoring him altogether. The trick to ferreting that kind of person out was to become un-ignorable; it wasn't Henning's preferred method, but you couldn't complain about using a hammer when a nail needed to be driven home.
In the meantime, it wasn't at all hard to go back to pretending this was just another pleasant breakfast. He stirred sugar and milk into his tea and added, nodding at Charlotte, "Picnicking lawyers aside, I think I can understand the aesthetic appeal of photographing a graveyard. As for walking a bird through one... I'm no ornithologist, so who am I to judge."
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Polly
Junior Member
What's that? Oh dear, I'm afraid we're all out of pepper.
Posts: 88
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Post by Polly on Dec 5, 2010 18:56:30 GMT -8
Polly was again very surprised when the first reaction to her overture was Charlotte jumping in front of her. Oh, dear, did she think Mr. Raincloud was going to attack her? That would be bad. Wait, did she just say that half the people here had met yesterday in the graveyard? Why on earth would they do that? Polly, unsettled and possibly a little off-balance, found herself entertaining wild thoughts about cult activity. She dismissed that a moment later and stepped out from behind Charlotte.
Apparently at the table Mr. Uccello and Mr. Henning had completely calmed down and were exchanging phone numbers. What? Was this some sort of overenthusiastic male bonding? The rain and everything being closed did tend to make certain people go a little batty.
Polly'd had enough of the whole situation. She patted Charlotte's shoulder, put down the milk and sugar, and went off to get a stack of pancakes for herself. For some strange reason, she decided to sit at the other table. The sane table. At least in appearance, anyway.
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Post by Wes Uccello on Dec 6, 2010 1:22:00 GMT -8
"That was pretty weird, but if you ask me he was a bit of a nut anyway," Wes responded. Apparently, for him, polite breakfast conversation just meant not saying anything about the people at your table. Pretending to make nice was hard for him. Niceness in general was hard for him. It never came naturally to him, and he had always found that the people who acted nicest were either the most fake, the most guilty, or the most malicious. Why would he want to subject people to that, when he knew that the facade would inevitably crumble and show the ugly underneath? At least with him, you wouldn't be let down. He was trustworthy.
Almost surgically he cut up his stack of pancakes with the side of his fork. As he calmed down, he almost began to look stranger; more wary, eyes darting around the room, assessing the actions of the room's other occupants. There was a reason he had ordered takeout at the diner: he was never really one for eating in public. But he hadn't forgotten the reason he was eating here as he struggled slightly to take neat bites using only his left hand.
He didn't seem too concerned with Polly's woes. Still, his mind was moving a mile a minute, trying to make sure he didn't do anything to give any hints, afraid that the agent was... doing exactly what he was doing.
"Well," he interjected after taking another shaky sip of tea, "It's as good a place as any. But I still think taking pictures of stranger's graves is disrespectful." He still sounded as if he was struggling with being nice, even as he criticized Charlotte's actions.
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