Jeanne Bonheur's Story

Jeanne bit her lip, turning the camera back around to face her. She had to agree. She'd seen a lot of maulings. This didn't look like one.

"Well, Baron. I hope that you let us know if you find whatever's done this. Thank you for your cooperation," she said with a bright smile. "We'll be questioning a while longer in case any of your customers had seen or heard anything, and then we'll move out of here."

"Make yourself at home," Baron replied.

He took another long drag of his cigarette as his eyes shifted to the other officers in his bar that where currently engaged with a number of his customers.

The sooner they finished and left the better...

Sliding out of her seat, Jeanne took a pause, lifting her head. Her eyes narrowed, shifting around the Den.

"... what in the world," she mumbled, a frown drawn upon her face. "What was that?"

"Raccoons have been getting into the cellar," Baron replied dryly. "Going to go report me to the health department now?"

Fortunately the din of the bar meant that most people likely hadn't heard whatever had caught Jeanne and Baron's ear.

Jeanne let out a chuckle. "I don't think the raccoons would be their main concern," she replied, shoving her hands in her pockets. She brought up the UI on her bionic lens, though there was no telling that she was unless one were to look her directly, intently, in the eye.

She moved toward the cellar, checking the scent trails around it. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I poked around," she told Baron.

"Do you have a warrant?" Baron asked bluntly.

The woman hovered her hand above the doorknob, fingers twitching. "I can get one," she warned him, looking over her shoulder at Baron. Her gaze wasn't as friendly as it had been before.

Baron stood from his chair, slapping a hand against the edge of the door as he met her eyes.

"Then you go do that," he told her. "And stop harassing me and my customers."

Even so petite a woman next to the Bloodstone pack leader, Jeanne stood firmly in place as they locked eyes. "Expect me in a few minutes," she growled.

She didn't make it two steps from the cellar door, before the gig was up and a woman's shriek split the air - emanating from the cellar.

Jeanne's eyes moved to the cellar, then to the man barring her path. "Or get out of the way now. Move, Baron."

Her hand came to the gun at her belt, right inside of her coat.

Blaze watched as everyone seemed to leave her alone, she sat in a corner and began playing a game on her phone, watching and listening to her surroundings, she had never seen men or people in this kind of uniform.

Leon exhaled a long and drawn out breath. "Gonna have to excuse myself, babe, but don't go anywhere."

He stood abruptly, sliding his pistol from it's holster and aiming it towards Baron. "Now, whats going to happen here is you're going to take a seat while we take a look in your super secret play house down in the cellar. Got any objections? Just kidding, don't care, now sit your ass down."

Elodie had been set on ignoring that initial setback. In fact, she’d pulled up a seat next to the woman quite cheerily and was organising her thoughts to make another move, in a non-romantic way, of course. But her flirting and skirting was interrupted by a scream that made her hairs stand on end.

Her eyes had inevitably found their way to the doorway, along with most other pairs.
They then caught hold of the officer who was rightly demanding entrance.


“Truly, if everyone is being as honest as they claim about the incident that occurred last night, then there should be no reason for us to be denied access unless there’s something else to be hiding.” El got to her feet slowly, keeping her tone calm and careful. She was trying to make up for Leon’s crass behaviour in a pit full of the easily-angered. With this opinion, her hand was hovering dangerously close to her holster also. Though, the inhabitants of The Den were being reasonably cooperative, considering the circumstances. She doubted these most sentient of monsters would all be in on something abhorrently incriminating. Another explanation, she believed, she hoped.

She made for the door too.

Baron kept his hand pressed to the door as he stared Jeanne down, and she could almost see the amber hue of a wolves eyes fixed onto her own.

"This isn't what it's going to look like, she's here of her own decision," Baron told her.

His eyes flicked to Leon and Elodie, but with Leon's gun unholstered and leveled on him things where heating fast. Several of his pack where on their feet as well, but a scathing look from him was all it took to keep them stood down.

A shootout with the police would be disastrous for everyone involved.

And so he laced his hands behind his head and allowed Jeanne to pull the cellar door open. He didn't take the indicated seat though, and his jacket was open enough to leave his sidearm visible in its holster. As the officers converged on the cellar door, and Leon kept his gun trained on Baron, he kept his hands where they where. He didn't particularly want to give the officers reason to think he might reach for his weapon and give them an excuse to shoot him.

"You're making a mistake," he growled lowly as Jeanne moved past him.

Without a second glance back at Baron, Jeanne descended into the cellar, drawing her gun as her boot hit the first step. She held it out in front of her, safety off. She took each step carefully, cautiously, until she was at the bottom. Her eyebrows rose up.

"Selene Evequec praised be," breathed the detective as her eyes came down on the woman in the cage. She tilted her head toward Élodie. "Baron's in some shit now."

She walked toward the cage with even more caution than she had descending the stairs. Her eyes skipped over to the dog laying down, then back to the woman. "Shit. What's going on? Are you alright? Miss? Can you respond?"

The ‘This isn't what it's going to look like’ snatched away some of her hope for the scream having come from some dazed barmaid who’d dropped a good bottle of ale straight onto her foot.

But when she looked upon the scene down below, all hope was siphoned away by what she saw.

Some shit indeed.

All of her senses were shouting at her about the nastiness she was beholding, but it was the tightening in her chest which she noticed the most. That overwhelming feeling of pity. She had been wrong to allow her perception of werewolves to be diluted with their remaining humanity. Monsters.

The shock was subsiding some as the other officer's voice pulled her back to current priorities. Nervousness etched in fright crept in instead. She’d drawn her handgun whilst descending into the cellar, and now she held it practically at the ready whilst sweeping the dim cellar.

“Is it locked?” she asked after drawing in a long, steadying breath.

Something she'd not noticed at first caught her eye. She blinked at the creature which was lying timidly beside the cage. Her heart had leapt upon first spotting it. The barrel of her gun stared into its form whilst El struggled to get a hold on returning distorted childhood fears of wicked beasts which howled at the moon. Just a dog. Just a dog?

"The door is open," said Jeanne, moving towards the cage. "I want you to call the hospital right now. She's hurt. If I had to guess, one of Baron's pack members attacked the girl and now they're trying to hide her." She whistled for the dog, motioning to the side. "C'mon, puppy. Out of the way. Move. Now."

Guard dog for a bunch of werewolves. It seemed silly.

Jesse let out a whine as he stood up, and he ducked his head low and slunk out of the way. Best to keep up the ruse that he was just some dog. What normally served as the butt end of jokes within the pack afforded him a measure of freedom at the moment. He could hear the commotion upstairs, but he had promised Re'Altarm he would stay with her, and so stay with her he did.

He could do little to dissuade the police though, not without risking them shooting him. And so he simply stood vigil to one side, hopeful that Baron would appear at the top of steps any minute now.

Just a dog.
A breath rushed out as she lowered her arm and tuned all of her attention back to Jeanne and the undeniable victim.

The closer she looked the worse it got. Not only did the woman seem to be suffering from some kind of sickness, but there were wounds on her neck, her shoulders, her arms. And the state of the cage wouldn’t be called hygienic under any circumstances.

Elodie did as she was told. She took a few steps away from the cage, in the few moments it took for the call to be connected, she’s convinced herself that what was going to come out of her mouth was panicked garble. To her own surprise, it wasn’t.

The ambulance was on its way, and after a brief explanation of what had happened and what they had found – though Elodie hadn’t been sure how to word what was before her – probably backup.

With her phone back in her pocket, her focus was back on this sorry sight.

As Jeanne was making for the cage, El bit her lip, wanting to say something, but not certain if her observations hadn’t already been digested by the more experienced officer.

“She’s hurt… scratched, bit… Shouldn’t we keep our distance?”
She didn’t like the idea of contracting lycanthropy too much herself, in all honesty. Her empathy was not powerful enough to overcome that. This woman did not look too... with it. Instability rolled off her.

"They take time to change. If she shifts- assuming she's been infected- I'll have more than enough time to get away," said Jeanne, pulling a walkie from her belt.

The detective radioed orders to the cops above, letting them know the situation, as well. A woman down in the cellar, hurt, in a cage. "Arrest Baron and anyone who tries to create a disturbance. Get everyone outside and question any and all patrons and employees. I want a thorough search of the Den after the ambulance arrives and Baron's been taken to jail."

She tucked the walkie back on her belt, glancing at Elodie. "First day on the job?" she asked her, keeping an eye on the writing woman. Until the ambulance got there, they couldn't do anything, unless Elodie had medical experience. "Got an EMT license?"

She nodded in response. El wasn’t about to admit that she was somewhat grateful for the cage separating them from this perhaps, potential threat.

“Been let loose a few times. Interviews, scene searching, nothing… nothing like this.” Definitely not. Here it was: that experience she’d been wanting for so long. Now she stood there in the raw horrors of criminal actions, she was questioning her choices, motives, perhaps her sanity for wanting to spend her life dealing with such things.

Noticing that she was still unreasonably tensed up even though nothing aggressive had happened so far, she tried to get herself to loosen up. A quick glance at the dog which was still lingering made certain that her muscles remained wound up.

“Not an EMT.” It was something she planned to get to. She hadn’t been expecting to need it so soon. Besides, she might have considered telling a lie simply because she didn't want her hands anywhere near the maybe-infected and definitely out-of-her-mind woman. “I just wanted to drive fast and have lots of guns.”

Half-hysteric laughter collected in her throat, but she swallowed it down with a gulp.

“Shouldn’t be long.
This is… this is horrible. They didn’t seem so bad.” Elodie was perfectly aware of how childish she sounded.

Jeanne walked through the front door of Baron's house, taking in a big sigh as she did. She had hoped so dearly it didn't have to come to this. The door lock was broken. It jangled noisily as it hit the wall.

She'd already swept the area with the eye. The place was so lived, but not by the man she was expecting. She turned to another officer with a scowl. "Are you sure we have the right place?" she questioned in amazement. "I mean... I feel like he hasn't even been here in forever."

"What makes you say that?" the officer asked, frowning.

Jeanne's eyes shot down to the ground. "Call it a... hunch."

She walked further into the house, high boots thumping on the ground. Nothing screamed Baron at all. There were two others who lived there, though. She couldn't identify them. She couldn't know.

"Small place, ah? Kinda homely." She brought her nail up to the right wall and scratched lightly at the flaking paint. "Could use some renovation."

"Detective Bonheur, are we checking the house or putting it on the market?"

"Calm down. I've checked more than you can imagine, officer... much more."

Vanessa had Sophia's hand in her own and she had removed her coat to drape it over her daughters shoulders as the pair ran through the rain. They had been halfway back from the corner store when the overcast skies had opened up in a torrential downpour. The storm had come on quickly and the pair where thoroughly drenched by the time they made it back to the house.

The lights where on and the door was open, which might have sent Vanessa to the nearest neighbor to call the police if not for the police vehicles already parked out front. Instead she made her way up the front stoop to find the police rummaging through cupboards and drawers in the kitchen and adjacent living area.

"What is this?" she demanded. "What's going on?"

Sophia meanwhile hung back on the stoop, shivering and uncertain what to make of the situation, these people, or her mother's abrupt anger.

Jeanne turned around slowly, looking over the woman who'd come inside. She certainly matched the identifiable traces in the house. "You must be the one who's actually living here," said Jeanne, approaching her. "The man called Baron, who owns the house, is in jail. We're checking this place for evidence. Could I have your name? I'm detective Jeanne Bonheur."

"What evidence?" Vanessa demanded. "Baron doesn't even live here. My daughter and I do, and I want you all out of here. We haven't done anything."

"I understand that you may not want us here. We shouldn't be too long. I'm fairly certain we're not going to find anything here. Unles-"

"Do you even have a warrant?"

"Yes. We wouldn't be here without one."

"Can I see it?" Vanessa replied.

Vanessa was plainly agitated, but it wasn't unheard of for the Lutetian police to up and lie to get into a residence - especially where pack was concerned.

Jeanne gave the woman a tight smile and reached into her coat pocket, retrieving a folded, white piece of paper. "Absolutely," she said, holding it out for her to see. "I think you'd like to know that Baron's a suspect in a crime."

"That's all well and good, but what does any of this have to do with my daughter and I?"

"You're living in his house. I don't know your relation to Baron, but if he's the one that owns the place, it seemed like something that'd be important to you. I suppose not." Jeanne put the paper back into her pocket.

Vanessa grit her teeth. "Are we free to leave?" she asked.

She didn't know how long the police would be, and with the front door broken in she didn't particularly want to spend the night here with Sophia.

"You can stay inside if you want, or you can leave, or even sit in your car until they're done. It's up to you," Jeanne said. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience." Her eyes met the ground, and the older woman sighed. "I really am."

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Vanessa replied somewhat scathingly. "Come on Sophia, we're lea-"

It was that that Vanessa realized Sophia wasn't standing on the stoop anymore.

"Sophia?" Vanessa called as she went to the front door. "Sophia?"

She couldn't see much of anything through the sheets of rain pouring down, and it left a spike of fear stabbing through her.

"Sophia?" she shouted.

She took the steps two at a time towards her car in case Sophia had gotten into one of them to get out of the rain, but what she found left her fear rising into panic. Vanessa's coat was discarded in the mud on the ground by the edge of the street.

She picked it up as she looked up and down the street.

"Sophia!" she shouted over the downpour pounding against the rooftops and the pavement.

Jeanne jogged out of the house, alerted by Vanessa's shouts. "What's wrong?" she called, looking through the rain.

"I don't know, she was right here," Vanessa shouted over the rain. "Sophia!" Vanessa screamed.

Jeanne frowned and took a good look around. On the steps. There. A waft of color that only she could see. It was also clouding the house. She moved into the rain, trying to trace it.

Nothing.

"Shit," spat Jeanne. She wasn't getting the easy way out today. Not in this rain. It had swept away any trace she could have used. She ran down the street, hoping for a sliver. A shadow. Anything. "Sophia!" she cried. She didn't know the girl, but if she responded to names-

She jogged back to the house, running inside. "We've got a missing person! Has anyone seen a little girl? Her name is Sophia."

Everyone in the immediate area looked up at Jeanne and shook their heads, some of them exchanging glances.

Why? Why now? And how, with so many cops?

"No one heard anything? You saw nothing? How the fuck..." Jeanne darted out of the door again, looking for Vanessa.

A black car pulled up behind where Bowen's car was parked at the curb. Bowen opened his door, pausing to speak to Léon who was driving. It was Léon who alerted Bowen to Vanessa who was standing in the middle of the street. They both stepped out of the car and both were well dressed but had heavy bags under their eyes. Bowen was the only one who moved around his door and started to walk in Vanessa's direction. "Vanessa?", he called to her.

He had tried to call her earlier in the morning. Being that he was representing Baron he was alerted to the warrant nearly as soon as it was issued but his call went to the machine. Vanessa had stepped out to visit the corner store earlier that morning and had missed his call.