Encounterlogs
Meridiths Odd Encounter Sr Caelum 240329
In a serene cabin nestled amidst nature, Meridith Walker finds her peaceful afternoon disrupted by a persistent knock on her door. Revealed to be Officer Orlando Cardinali, a gruff state policeman, he arrives alone under the guise of executing a warrant for her arrest, linked to a series of gruesome murders across Massachusetts. Despite the curious nature of his solo visit and the storm brewing outside, Meridith confronts the situation with a blend of caution and intrigue, concealing a sword for protection. The conversation that unfolds reveals Cardinali's suspicion that something about the case against Meridith doesn't add up, pointing towards a deeper, more sinister plot behind the accusations laid against her.
As the narrative progresses, the interaction between Meridith and Cardinali delves into a complex discussion about the murders, with Cardinali reluctantly laying out the damning evidence collected against Meridith. Despite the foreboding evidence, a sense of unease and doubt lingers, leading him to question the validity of the investigation. Meridith, seizing the moment, tries to convince the officer of her innocence and warns him about the dangers of digging deeper into a world he does not understand, hinting at supernatural forces at play. In a moment of unexpected trust and perhaps desperation, Cardinali decides to leave the evidence with Meridith, instructing her to destroy it to buy time while she contacts Deputy Miles, who is hinted to be more aware of the true nature of these incidents. The encounter concludes with Cardinali departing, leaving behind a lingering promise of further investigation but also a plea for caution, implicitly acknowledging the existence of a reality far beyond the ordinary that could potentially endanger his family and himself.
(Meridith's odd encounter(SRCaelum):SRCaelum)
[Thu Mar 28 2024]
In A Small Cabin
In this small but well-designed living space the walls are adorned with wooden panels, giving a sense of nature indoors. To your left, there's a black sofa with plush cushions, and warious throw pillows. The sofa is strategically placed near a large window that allows natural light to fill the room during the day. The window also provides picturesque views of the surrounding wilderness.
On the opposite side, there's a neatly arranged bed with green linens and various mix-matched pillows. The bed is framed by a wooden headboard, adding to the rustic feel of the cabin. Overhead, a warm and subtle lighting fixture casts a soft glow, creating a tranquil ambiance in the sleeping area.
Adjacent to the bed, a built-in closet is seamlessly integrated into the wooden wall. The closet features sliding or folding doors, maximizing space efficiency. Inside, there are shelves, drawers, and hanging rods for organizing clothes and personal items, keeping the cabin clutter-free.
Overall, this one-bedroom cabin combines the comforts of modern living with the tranquility of nature, providing a serene retreat for those seeking a peaceful escape.
It is afternoon, about 52F(11C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
Meridith is home, cleaning up, sweeping the floors. She's had a quiet day it seems, somewhat calm and easy going as she enjoys some downtime.
In that calm, serene afternoon of menial tasks everyone ought to do once in a while, something brews at this hour. Meridith would soon find herself to be interrupted in her endeavours by a sudden and very abrupt knocking at her door. Being as far out of the way her small cabin is, it is a wonder that someone would even come knocking at this hour -- Yet, here it is. Insistant, incessant, someone pounds their fists behind the door. Very much eager to get in, it seems, but it isn't the urgency of someone in need, but someone demanding.
Meridith stretches out a bit, not the first time someone has done so. She moves to peer surreptitiously through the window. "Who is it?" she asks in a voice light, free of concern of the pounding, although, she does begin to fetch her arms.
As soon as she peeks through the windows, she'd see only one person, outside. Rainslick and wet, a gruff and rough man with salt and pepper beard and slick-back hair wearing the colors of the Massachusetts State Police. Rather far drive from Boston to here, but he continues banging until Meridith's voice inquires. It makes him stop, take a step back and fix himself in an annoyed attitude before he replies in a voice that is exactly the type of deep intonation one would expect from the sort of man at her door. "MSP, Ma'am. Open the door, we have a warrant," Who is we? He's entirely alone out there. "Don't make us break it down."
"Odd choice, you got snipers lingering in the woods or something? I'd ask you to slide the warrant under the door for my perusal, but I think we can save one another a little time," Meridith says and moves to open the door, moving to be beside it before letting him in, sword hidden behind the door in her hand at the moment.
For all Meridith can tell, yes, the man is in fact, very much alone. He remains quiet to her second inquiry, and further words. Remains almost at attention in the half-slouched posture he carries himself with at all times, but when she opens the door, he doesn't delay. Steps through the treshold of her abode at once and forward - already fiddling and fussing with a folder kept under his arm to shake the cold late-march rain out of it. The stormclouds brewing outside had done little for his mood, that much is evident - but he brings a paper up for her perusal after he's insane.
A warrant. Top down, simple, every bit genuine. He doesn't let her eyes linger on it, as no cop ever does, before he flashes a badge; "Officer Orlando Cardinali." And it disappears just as fast. "Name and surname, please." For all of his seemingly polite wording, the way he drawls it out is very much in theme with his slouched attitude. "I want to know I got the right address."
Meridith examines the warrant top to bottom. She moves to snag a pic to send it off in case she needs help later. "Meridith Walker, a pleasure, Officer Cardinali," she says easily. She tucks the sword against the door for now, sheathed and moves to observe the man warily. "State PD here all alone with a warrant in the middle of the night? Pretty strange things, sir."
The middle-aged officer seems more displeased by the picture she snaps - huffs his words, "Now look here, miss, you keep that there to yourself or we're gonna to be in a world of trouble." Whatever he means by that is unclear - but it is no threat. He's entirely unaware of the blade she has hidden behind the door - but before he addresses Meridith, he turns on a heel to shut the door for her. How kind. Perhaps now that she has a picture of his warrant, however, she'd notice upon perusal it isn't set to happen, yet. The man's attention isn't upon her, however, while he marches on to the inner sanctum of her small cabin.
Dark-blue eyes, worn and weathered with age, scan the room with a look of inspection, but, no real search ensues while he motions for her, "You're right in 'at, it is a strange thing. Ain't stranger than you." He gruffly informs, nods in motion for her, "I have some questions for you. No one else knows I'm here, and it better stay that way for the sake of us both. You got a table here?" Then, after a brief pause, he asks, "Some coffee would be nice too."
Meridith appraises the man. She takes some offense to his threat, a quiet sense of pride swells in a desire to show him who would regret a conflict between the two of them, but she is patient enough to let it pass. She nods to the man, then gestures to the sofa. "I'll see if I can make some coffee," lacking a kitchen the best she'll do is kettle heated water and some instant mix thrown in. She maneuvers about her place keeping a hawkish gaze. "You seem fairly startled, and since you're coming to me unofficial, let's just say I'm happy to help," she explains and moves to rejoin him after a minute or two, offering the miserable cup.
"No table then?" He's ever-annoyed, but she's right in that he's startled. On-edge, perpetually. He sits himself down while Meridith goes on to prepare the black tar that runs in ever police officer all over the world, and starts to sort through that thick folder he has kept under his arm again, like it means the world to him, his most prized and valuable possession kept away from everyone and everything with that hardened gaze. But before he reveals anything, he stops to inspect her, watch quiet and attentively under her own hawkish look.
One of his hands fix scraggly short beard, still spotted wet with the rain outside - and the act seems more like an anxious tick with how he combs through it with his fingers. By the time she joins, offers the coffee, he breaks his silence by taking it, and nods with firm gratitude. "Your cooperation is a bonus for you. Now, sit." And he downs that piping hot liquid with the practiced ease of someone lacking heat perception in his mouth after decades on the force wolfing down coffee to clear his hands for work.
Whether she does or not, what he does is start laying out papers on the sofa.
Meridith drags over a bed side table for the prissy little baby, and resists rolling his eyes for her. Instead of sitting she leans against the wall and observes the man, coffee set for him, gazing at the papers, but largely keeping her eye on the man.
"Yeah, an' I ain't a fan of upstarts like you." The officer gruffly informs Meridith, but he's still thankful for the table she drags for him. The papers, instead of being set on the sofa, is set on the table now and he pushes it on further to put it between himself and her. The his empty cup is discarded on it, staining one of the papers. "There is a warrant for your arrest." If it wasn't obvious enough. He gets down to business, no further delay in his gruff intonation. "This came to our desks over a week ago, and now, something didn't sit right with me." That uneasieness returns.
It's in his eyes, his posture, slight apprehension in the upward glare he pins on Meridith before looking back at his stack, and starts to separate them for her viewing. "Northampton." He presses a paper. Then another. "Chicopee, Springfield," And another, "Sturbridge before Worcester." Yet another. "Boston." It's all forensic reports, investigations, evidence, a lock of hair in a small bag, her hair, fingerprints, so on and so forth. Each and every one of them accompanied with grotesque crime scene pictures of corpses.
Meridith blinks, realizing that he heard her thoughts? She straightens up and considers him certainly. She exhales sharply and shakes her head. "I've got alibi's for this," she insists to the officer, fairly sure, at least. She studies each of the stacks and grinds her teeth together looking annoyed. She isn't pleased to look at the photos, gazing away after each with some disgust.
"...So you decided to look into it," she muses grimly.
Maybe there is something more to the officer that sits in Meridith's abode. In her secondary consideration of him, she might hint some kinship, something, beneath that middle-aged guise, an underlying vitality collected in the storm of his gaze. He doesn't reply to her supposed alibi, keeps that gaze leveled at her, glaring still, followed by a sigh that escapes hoarsely. "Listen, I got a kid your age. She's my world, my everything. When the investigation on you brought up the rest on our tables, I had to know."
His head shakes slightly in how he doesn't want to believe, starts to set out papers in a neat and orderly line across the table to not remain idle. "These murders are violent, ain't the sort of thing some student with a family upstate can do. An' the killings, they're too fast, its not possible for someone to do all this before letting the last one decay a little. Not unless, you know." Does she know? The man only hints at the existence of the supernatural plague - but he does add; "Most of what we've found are around Boston. They're all littered with your fingerprints, everything shows us you."
He taps that small ziplock bag of hair, "This, ain't one lock. It's all the strands collected individually from different crime scenes. There were just that many. Now, I wanna know-" No, he /has/ to know, "Tell me it ain't you."
Meridith listens to the man, leaned against the wall. She thinks of her own father as he thinks of his daughter and she wonders for a moment, nostalgic. She takes a breath and examines his eyes. A man who is on the cusp of awareness, led down a rabbit hole here, to her door. She's the guiding light this time, maybe.
Sleepless nights, early warrant. This man shouldn't be here digging into this, he should be at home with her. "I do know how, and I can probably figure out the rest too, but you don't want to work this one, Officer." She hesitates, softer she adds, "Orlando." She frowns a bit. "You're not Aware of this stuff and that's for the best. What you should do is just...go home. Let them carry out the warrant. I suspect it'll get dropped after I make a call."
"I'm not a dog, I don't shed. Evidence left like that, something this strange, it's someone messing with me in a grisly way. I didn't do it, but we both know that already."
She may be right. More than right, she may be saving his life. As it stands, he thinks he's doing the same for her. Meridith finds that the man leans back now, arms fold upon his chest. The critical look of his eyes pinned upon her doesn't relent in the slightest, only poorly veiling the worry, the disbelief, and everything else he sees in her. This is her opportunity to sway him, "I think you misunderstand me, miss." His head shakes again, more resolute, more worn in how he appears. "That warrant is issued. The investigation is done, what's left is interrogation, and now, I'm not sure, but its like something came over our boys 'n blue. They're like hounds on this, working late nights, everyone in a rush."
His jaw clenches for a moment in evident worry while he leans forward again, moves his hands to rest them on the bedside table in front of him, looking up at her. "Tell me about your alibi, give me anything, not just that 'I'll call someone and it'll be done' shit. The most recent murder happened just last monday evening, in Boston. A young waif of a girl, black hair, tresses." He divulges more information than necessary, maybe to instill some kind of empathy. "They found her in an alley on a broken pavement." He fishes out a paper without looking from the pile in front of him, drags it forward without looking. "It looked like an animal attack covered in bites she was, and you don't look like an animal to me, miss Walker. Point me the right way."
Meridith exhales, tilting her head up she closes her eyes. "Officer," she exhales. Those people are dead. He doesn't need to bring the point home. She's livid. Someone trying to set her up is frustrating, but the death done to do it is a deep wrong. She hasn't murdered anybody, recently, but she has a powerful impulse to find someone and do it herself.
"What do you want to know?" She asks, and she isn't really asking. "Do you want to know the truth? Do you want to see what's going on? Once it's done it's done, and there's no more relaxed family life. I don't know why this is the case that opened your eyes but god help me, I'm begging you, close them." She stares at the man unwaveringly, pleading, desperate. "Keep your family safe and stay out of this." She trembles a bit and stares at the photos.
If he refuses, so be it, but she has to try.
Silence.
That's his response to her words, attentively observant in that worry-clad look. Not an ounce relieved or believing that she can take care of this herself - perplexed by what it is that she's suggesting, even if he has an inkling of it, of that hidden side of the world. To go so long without being privy to it is a miracle. For all intent and purpose, he's won at life, in a sense. A being, something like her, but unaware, teetering on the edge of knowledge most wicked and dangerous.
Maybe he misunderstands, because he nods quietly. The papers are gathered in front of him, quietly put in a single file pile. "I gathered already this might've been the one. The thing that'll put me and mine in danger. No one goes to these lengths if they aren't very powerful." Whatever he surmises the real culprit behind her issued arrest to be, he reveals it only after a pause in which he fills his folder with his pile of evidence. "If you don't want my help, I'll back off. I ain't gonna be happy about it, but I will." Only, he eventually looks up at her again, barrage some questions, "Did you piss of a big mob? A corporation? Blackmail someone? You're so young, kid. God, I can't even imagine.." The horror, the murders.. His expression is pitifully sad upon her.
A last ditch attempt, perhaps to call her bluff, follows. "Tell me at least who you're gonna call to get this fixed?" Because he's most certainly averse to believing young college girls that say they'll get that ticket handled, or that trial dropped with a phone call to their daddy. Less so, when he's placing them in the shoes of his own daughter.
Meridith folds her arms over her chest, studying the man closely as he begins to put it away. Should she demonstrate? Make him float? Pull her sword from across the room to her hand and draw an M on his chest with deft swordwork? No, it's better he think otherwise.
But, he isn't going to stop. Not in spite of his daughters safety, but because of it. Someone doesn't become a cop because they don't think they can help by sticking their nose into shit. She knows this is a small part of the rest of the story, what she hopes is it won't be a short one.
"Miles, Deputy Miles of Haven PD. Local, and...he knows what you don't," she indicates. "If you turn over the case to him, he'll sort it out, he'll find who's responsible," she tells him, trying to give him some reassurance. A man, older than she, and a cop. Surely he'll take his word? And if not...well. It won't hurt to give him an ally who knows the story.
"Just, it isn't about this case, it's about the ones to come once you know, it continues from here and I don't want you..." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Just, reach out to him, and if I can be of assistance, after, well. Let me know, okay?"
More than he'll ever know, Meridith likely saved a life by keeping them in the dark today. Also probably made a very wise decision in choosing not to draw an M on his chest with her sword. In both cases, the weathered officer moves to stand with his papers, bops them against the table to align them proper, and shove that remaining few into his folder as well. Evidence, report, discriminating in every blotch of ink written about her. He's certainly sour, but knowing that she'll contact the local police adds a layer of relief to that worry ridden gaze.
Then he does the unthinkable, sets the folder down on the table, neat and secured. "Burn this after I'm gone. It will delay the investigation for a while until they have it all signed and prepared again, and you can talk to your deputy friend about it." Stood up now, he circles around to approach. Reach with both hands in an effort to hold Meridith on either shoulder. "I sincerely hope I'm not making a mistake with this, and you're truly free of crime, but I'm choosing to believe." Then, he adds, "I can't call this Deputy Miles, it will arise suspicion, but give him the gist of it and have him contact the state police, call me. Meanwhile, I have a few strings I can pull," line
As Unaware as he is, and as unaware of other machinations at play, he tries to reassure the girl with a pat on her shoulder. "We'll make sure this investigation turns around to the real criminals, don't you worry about a thing -- and remember, I was never here."
Meridith exhales, gazing at the man. "Make sure nobody knows you came here." She tells him. She stands up and moves over, examining the files, and deleting the warrant off her phone. "Please take care of yourself, and your family. You're...alright," she tells him. For a cop. "Remind me of my dad," well maybe that one is just to sweeten him up a bit. "So I don't want you to do anything reckless okay, for her sake?" she reaffirms his greater responsibility.
And once she finds who's done this she's definitely going to leave less evidence behind than whoever set her up, that's for damn sure.
There is warmth in the final exchange. Some apprehension, disbelief still - but, Officer Orlando Cardinali is willing to give Meridith the benefit of of the doubt, until he gets a call from a deputy in the future. After thanking her for coffee, long after he's had it, he fixes his coat, puts on his hat, and leaves Meridith's abode with a quiet farewell, and a genuine wish to never see her name on his table ever again. Who knows what becomes of him after he's gone, whether he's quit on the investigation, found a way for others to do the same, but it is likely she'll never hear from him again.
Which is a good thing, because it means, over the coming days, the warrant isn't acted upon, and her arrest isn't made. No one ever arrives, even. If she follows news around Massachusetts, she'll eventually find the whole thing swept under a rug by the more Supernaturally aware members within the force. With a news clip barely lasting on the news that the state police have apprehended a maniacal cult that cost lives and dished misery in several towns. The classic cover story of pinning the Supernatural evil on the wicked mundane.
As the narrative progresses, the interaction between Meridith and Cardinali delves into a complex discussion about the murders, with Cardinali reluctantly laying out the damning evidence collected against Meridith. Despite the foreboding evidence, a sense of unease and doubt lingers, leading him to question the validity of the investigation. Meridith, seizing the moment, tries to convince the officer of her innocence and warns him about the dangers of digging deeper into a world he does not understand, hinting at supernatural forces at play. In a moment of unexpected trust and perhaps desperation, Cardinali decides to leave the evidence with Meridith, instructing her to destroy it to buy time while she contacts Deputy Miles, who is hinted to be more aware of the true nature of these incidents. The encounter concludes with Cardinali departing, leaving behind a lingering promise of further investigation but also a plea for caution, implicitly acknowledging the existence of a reality far beyond the ordinary that could potentially endanger his family and himself.
(Meridith's odd encounter(SRCaelum):SRCaelum)
[Thu Mar 28 2024]
In A Small Cabin
In this small but well-designed living space the walls are adorned with wooden panels, giving a sense of nature indoors. To your left, there's a black sofa with plush cushions, and warious throw pillows. The sofa is strategically placed near a large window that allows natural light to fill the room during the day. The window also provides picturesque views of the surrounding wilderness.
On the opposite side, there's a neatly arranged bed with green linens and various mix-matched pillows. The bed is framed by a wooden headboard, adding to the rustic feel of the cabin. Overhead, a warm and subtle lighting fixture casts a soft glow, creating a tranquil ambiance in the sleeping area.
Adjacent to the bed, a built-in closet is seamlessly integrated into the wooden wall. The closet features sliding or folding doors, maximizing space efficiency. Inside, there are shelves, drawers, and hanging rods for organizing clothes and personal items, keeping the cabin clutter-free.
Overall, this one-bedroom cabin combines the comforts of modern living with the tranquility of nature, providing a serene retreat for those seeking a peaceful escape.
It is afternoon, about 52F(11C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds.
(Someone has sent the state police after your target. Perhaps they're a real criminal or perhaps they've been framed, in either case it's up to them to get their arrest warrant handled and removed.
)
Meridith is home, cleaning up, sweeping the floors. She's had a quiet day it seems, somewhat calm and easy going as she enjoys some downtime.
In that calm, serene afternoon of menial tasks everyone ought to do once in a while, something brews at this hour. Meridith would soon find herself to be interrupted in her endeavours by a sudden and very abrupt knocking at her door. Being as far out of the way her small cabin is, it is a wonder that someone would even come knocking at this hour -- Yet, here it is. Insistant, incessant, someone pounds their fists behind the door. Very much eager to get in, it seems, but it isn't the urgency of someone in need, but someone demanding.
Meridith stretches out a bit, not the first time someone has done so. She moves to peer surreptitiously through the window. "Who is it?" she asks in a voice light, free of concern of the pounding, although, she does begin to fetch her arms.
As soon as she peeks through the windows, she'd see only one person, outside. Rainslick and wet, a gruff and rough man with salt and pepper beard and slick-back hair wearing the colors of the Massachusetts State Police. Rather far drive from Boston to here, but he continues banging until Meridith's voice inquires. It makes him stop, take a step back and fix himself in an annoyed attitude before he replies in a voice that is exactly the type of deep intonation one would expect from the sort of man at her door. "MSP, Ma'am. Open the door, we have a warrant," Who is we? He's entirely alone out there. "Don't make us break it down."
"Odd choice, you got snipers lingering in the woods or something? I'd ask you to slide the warrant under the door for my perusal, but I think we can save one another a little time," Meridith says and moves to open the door, moving to be beside it before letting him in, sword hidden behind the door in her hand at the moment.
For all Meridith can tell, yes, the man is in fact, very much alone. He remains quiet to her second inquiry, and further words. Remains almost at attention in the half-slouched posture he carries himself with at all times, but when she opens the door, he doesn't delay. Steps through the treshold of her abode at once and forward - already fiddling and fussing with a folder kept under his arm to shake the cold late-march rain out of it. The stormclouds brewing outside had done little for his mood, that much is evident - but he brings a paper up for her perusal after he's insane.
A warrant. Top down, simple, every bit genuine. He doesn't let her eyes linger on it, as no cop ever does, before he flashes a badge; "Officer Orlando Cardinali." And it disappears just as fast. "Name and surname, please." For all of his seemingly polite wording, the way he drawls it out is very much in theme with his slouched attitude. "I want to know I got the right address."
Meridith examines the warrant top to bottom. She moves to snag a pic to send it off in case she needs help later. "Meridith Walker, a pleasure, Officer Cardinali," she says easily. She tucks the sword against the door for now, sheathed and moves to observe the man warily. "State PD here all alone with a warrant in the middle of the night? Pretty strange things, sir."
The middle-aged officer seems more displeased by the picture she snaps - huffs his words, "Now look here, miss, you keep that there to yourself or we're gonna to be in a world of trouble." Whatever he means by that is unclear - but it is no threat. He's entirely unaware of the blade she has hidden behind the door - but before he addresses Meridith, he turns on a heel to shut the door for her. How kind. Perhaps now that she has a picture of his warrant, however, she'd notice upon perusal it isn't set to happen, yet. The man's attention isn't upon her, however, while he marches on to the inner sanctum of her small cabin.
Dark-blue eyes, worn and weathered with age, scan the room with a look of inspection, but, no real search ensues while he motions for her, "You're right in 'at, it is a strange thing. Ain't stranger than you." He gruffly informs, nods in motion for her, "I have some questions for you. No one else knows I'm here, and it better stay that way for the sake of us both. You got a table here?" Then, after a brief pause, he asks, "Some coffee would be nice too."
Meridith appraises the man. She takes some offense to his threat, a quiet sense of pride swells in a desire to show him who would regret a conflict between the two of them, but she is patient enough to let it pass. She nods to the man, then gestures to the sofa. "I'll see if I can make some coffee," lacking a kitchen the best she'll do is kettle heated water and some instant mix thrown in. She maneuvers about her place keeping a hawkish gaze. "You seem fairly startled, and since you're coming to me unofficial, let's just say I'm happy to help," she explains and moves to rejoin him after a minute or two, offering the miserable cup.
"No table then?" He's ever-annoyed, but she's right in that he's startled. On-edge, perpetually. He sits himself down while Meridith goes on to prepare the black tar that runs in ever police officer all over the world, and starts to sort through that thick folder he has kept under his arm again, like it means the world to him, his most prized and valuable possession kept away from everyone and everything with that hardened gaze. But before he reveals anything, he stops to inspect her, watch quiet and attentively under her own hawkish look.
One of his hands fix scraggly short beard, still spotted wet with the rain outside - and the act seems more like an anxious tick with how he combs through it with his fingers. By the time she joins, offers the coffee, he breaks his silence by taking it, and nods with firm gratitude. "Your cooperation is a bonus for you. Now, sit." And he downs that piping hot liquid with the practiced ease of someone lacking heat perception in his mouth after decades on the force wolfing down coffee to clear his hands for work.
Whether she does or not, what he does is start laying out papers on the sofa.
Meridith drags over a bed side table for the prissy little baby, and resists rolling his eyes for her. Instead of sitting she leans against the wall and observes the man, coffee set for him, gazing at the papers, but largely keeping her eye on the man.
"Yeah, an' I ain't a fan of upstarts like you." The officer gruffly informs Meridith, but he's still thankful for the table she drags for him. The papers, instead of being set on the sofa, is set on the table now and he pushes it on further to put it between himself and her. The his empty cup is discarded on it, staining one of the papers. "There is a warrant for your arrest." If it wasn't obvious enough. He gets down to business, no further delay in his gruff intonation. "This came to our desks over a week ago, and now, something didn't sit right with me." That uneasieness returns.
It's in his eyes, his posture, slight apprehension in the upward glare he pins on Meridith before looking back at his stack, and starts to separate them for her viewing. "Northampton." He presses a paper. Then another. "Chicopee, Springfield," And another, "Sturbridge before Worcester." Yet another. "Boston." It's all forensic reports, investigations, evidence, a lock of hair in a small bag, her hair, fingerprints, so on and so forth. Each and every one of them accompanied with grotesque crime scene pictures of corpses.
Meridith blinks, realizing that he heard her thoughts? She straightens up and considers him certainly. She exhales sharply and shakes her head. "I've got alibi's for this," she insists to the officer, fairly sure, at least. She studies each of the stacks and grinds her teeth together looking annoyed. She isn't pleased to look at the photos, gazing away after each with some disgust.
"...So you decided to look into it," she muses grimly.
Maybe there is something more to the officer that sits in Meridith's abode. In her secondary consideration of him, she might hint some kinship, something, beneath that middle-aged guise, an underlying vitality collected in the storm of his gaze. He doesn't reply to her supposed alibi, keeps that gaze leveled at her, glaring still, followed by a sigh that escapes hoarsely. "Listen, I got a kid your age. She's my world, my everything. When the investigation on you brought up the rest on our tables, I had to know."
His head shakes slightly in how he doesn't want to believe, starts to set out papers in a neat and orderly line across the table to not remain idle. "These murders are violent, ain't the sort of thing some student with a family upstate can do. An' the killings, they're too fast, its not possible for someone to do all this before letting the last one decay a little. Not unless, you know." Does she know? The man only hints at the existence of the supernatural plague - but he does add; "Most of what we've found are around Boston. They're all littered with your fingerprints, everything shows us you."
He taps that small ziplock bag of hair, "This, ain't one lock. It's all the strands collected individually from different crime scenes. There were just that many. Now, I wanna know-" No, he /has/ to know, "Tell me it ain't you."
Meridith listens to the man, leaned against the wall. She thinks of her own father as he thinks of his daughter and she wonders for a moment, nostalgic. She takes a breath and examines his eyes. A man who is on the cusp of awareness, led down a rabbit hole here, to her door. She's the guiding light this time, maybe.
Sleepless nights, early warrant. This man shouldn't be here digging into this, he should be at home with her. "I do know how, and I can probably figure out the rest too, but you don't want to work this one, Officer." She hesitates, softer she adds, "Orlando." She frowns a bit. "You're not Aware of this stuff and that's for the best. What you should do is just...go home. Let them carry out the warrant. I suspect it'll get dropped after I make a call."
"I'm not a dog, I don't shed. Evidence left like that, something this strange, it's someone messing with me in a grisly way. I didn't do it, but we both know that already."
She may be right. More than right, she may be saving his life. As it stands, he thinks he's doing the same for her. Meridith finds that the man leans back now, arms fold upon his chest. The critical look of his eyes pinned upon her doesn't relent in the slightest, only poorly veiling the worry, the disbelief, and everything else he sees in her. This is her opportunity to sway him, "I think you misunderstand me, miss." His head shakes again, more resolute, more worn in how he appears. "That warrant is issued. The investigation is done, what's left is interrogation, and now, I'm not sure, but its like something came over our boys 'n blue. They're like hounds on this, working late nights, everyone in a rush."
His jaw clenches for a moment in evident worry while he leans forward again, moves his hands to rest them on the bedside table in front of him, looking up at her. "Tell me about your alibi, give me anything, not just that 'I'll call someone and it'll be done' shit. The most recent murder happened just last monday evening, in Boston. A young waif of a girl, black hair, tresses." He divulges more information than necessary, maybe to instill some kind of empathy. "They found her in an alley on a broken pavement." He fishes out a paper without looking from the pile in front of him, drags it forward without looking. "It looked like an animal attack covered in bites she was, and you don't look like an animal to me, miss Walker. Point me the right way."
Meridith exhales, tilting her head up she closes her eyes. "Officer," she exhales. Those people are dead. He doesn't need to bring the point home. She's livid. Someone trying to set her up is frustrating, but the death done to do it is a deep wrong. She hasn't murdered anybody, recently, but she has a powerful impulse to find someone and do it herself.
"What do you want to know?" She asks, and she isn't really asking. "Do you want to know the truth? Do you want to see what's going on? Once it's done it's done, and there's no more relaxed family life. I don't know why this is the case that opened your eyes but god help me, I'm begging you, close them." She stares at the man unwaveringly, pleading, desperate. "Keep your family safe and stay out of this." She trembles a bit and stares at the photos.
If he refuses, so be it, but she has to try.
Silence.
That's his response to her words, attentively observant in that worry-clad look. Not an ounce relieved or believing that she can take care of this herself - perplexed by what it is that she's suggesting, even if he has an inkling of it, of that hidden side of the world. To go so long without being privy to it is a miracle. For all intent and purpose, he's won at life, in a sense. A being, something like her, but unaware, teetering on the edge of knowledge most wicked and dangerous.
Maybe he misunderstands, because he nods quietly. The papers are gathered in front of him, quietly put in a single file pile. "I gathered already this might've been the one. The thing that'll put me and mine in danger. No one goes to these lengths if they aren't very powerful." Whatever he surmises the real culprit behind her issued arrest to be, he reveals it only after a pause in which he fills his folder with his pile of evidence. "If you don't want my help, I'll back off. I ain't gonna be happy about it, but I will." Only, he eventually looks up at her again, barrage some questions, "Did you piss of a big mob? A corporation? Blackmail someone? You're so young, kid. God, I can't even imagine.." The horror, the murders.. His expression is pitifully sad upon her.
A last ditch attempt, perhaps to call her bluff, follows. "Tell me at least who you're gonna call to get this fixed?" Because he's most certainly averse to believing young college girls that say they'll get that ticket handled, or that trial dropped with a phone call to their daddy. Less so, when he's placing them in the shoes of his own daughter.
Meridith folds her arms over her chest, studying the man closely as he begins to put it away. Should she demonstrate? Make him float? Pull her sword from across the room to her hand and draw an M on his chest with deft swordwork? No, it's better he think otherwise.
But, he isn't going to stop. Not in spite of his daughters safety, but because of it. Someone doesn't become a cop because they don't think they can help by sticking their nose into shit. She knows this is a small part of the rest of the story, what she hopes is it won't be a short one.
"Miles, Deputy Miles of Haven PD. Local, and...he knows what you don't," she indicates. "If you turn over the case to him, he'll sort it out, he'll find who's responsible," she tells him, trying to give him some reassurance. A man, older than she, and a cop. Surely he'll take his word? And if not...well. It won't hurt to give him an ally who knows the story.
"Just, it isn't about this case, it's about the ones to come once you know, it continues from here and I don't want you..." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Just, reach out to him, and if I can be of assistance, after, well. Let me know, okay?"
More than he'll ever know, Meridith likely saved a life by keeping them in the dark today. Also probably made a very wise decision in choosing not to draw an M on his chest with her sword. In both cases, the weathered officer moves to stand with his papers, bops them against the table to align them proper, and shove that remaining few into his folder as well. Evidence, report, discriminating in every blotch of ink written about her. He's certainly sour, but knowing that she'll contact the local police adds a layer of relief to that worry ridden gaze.
Then he does the unthinkable, sets the folder down on the table, neat and secured. "Burn this after I'm gone. It will delay the investigation for a while until they have it all signed and prepared again, and you can talk to your deputy friend about it." Stood up now, he circles around to approach. Reach with both hands in an effort to hold Meridith on either shoulder. "I sincerely hope I'm not making a mistake with this, and you're truly free of crime, but I'm choosing to believe." Then, he adds, "I can't call this Deputy Miles, it will arise suspicion, but give him the gist of it and have him contact the state police, call me. Meanwhile, I have a few strings I can pull," line
As Unaware as he is, and as unaware of other machinations at play, he tries to reassure the girl with a pat on her shoulder. "We'll make sure this investigation turns around to the real criminals, don't you worry about a thing -- and remember, I was never here."
Meridith exhales, gazing at the man. "Make sure nobody knows you came here." She tells him. She stands up and moves over, examining the files, and deleting the warrant off her phone. "Please take care of yourself, and your family. You're...alright," she tells him. For a cop. "Remind me of my dad," well maybe that one is just to sweeten him up a bit. "So I don't want you to do anything reckless okay, for her sake?" she reaffirms his greater responsibility.
And once she finds who's done this she's definitely going to leave less evidence behind than whoever set her up, that's for damn sure.
There is warmth in the final exchange. Some apprehension, disbelief still - but, Officer Orlando Cardinali is willing to give Meridith the benefit of of the doubt, until he gets a call from a deputy in the future. After thanking her for coffee, long after he's had it, he fixes his coat, puts on his hat, and leaves Meridith's abode with a quiet farewell, and a genuine wish to never see her name on his table ever again. Who knows what becomes of him after he's gone, whether he's quit on the investigation, found a way for others to do the same, but it is likely she'll never hear from him again.
Which is a good thing, because it means, over the coming days, the warrant isn't acted upon, and her arrest isn't made. No one ever arrives, even. If she follows news around Massachusetts, she'll eventually find the whole thing swept under a rug by the more Supernaturally aware members within the force. With a news clip barely lasting on the news that the state police have apprehended a maniacal cult that cost lives and dished misery in several towns. The classic cover story of pinning the Supernatural evil on the wicked mundane.