Cecily Ashworth
Location: the Morgue
Cecily couldn't help but admire Dr. Brinne a little bit more. The first time she had met Caesar, she had been scared to death of the man. Every minute she was near him, she felt like he was a boot, and she was just a little ant. And even now, after a week of nearly being killed and having the terrifying man only look out for her, she still felt slightly nervous. The very fact that Natasha wasn't worried about being ripped in half as she put a hand on Caesar's shoulder won her Cecily's admiration.
If Caesar wasn't there, she might have made a slight joke about the TSA finally turning murderous. It wasn't exactly appropriate to say in front of the next of kin, and instead, the acting coroner nodded at Dr. Brinne. "How many airports are there in Justice? There's the big one, but I imagine there are smaller ones, private ones...If we fuck up and look into the wrong airport hangar, the press'll report on it, and whoever is behind this will know we're on to them." It was something they'd have to do right the first time. They couldn't afford to let the murderer know that they nearly found the crime scene. It would be like sending out a beacon, warning them that they would need to clean up their mess a little more thoroughly soon.
"Yes, of course," Cecily nodded, mulling over Caesar's request. She assumed that he asked for the favor as a sign of trust for her, and she hoped he realized that she didn't actually do the autopsies herself. Dr. Brinne would be the one performing them, given that she had a medical license, and Cecily was only proficient with pouring herself DayQuill whenever she fell ill. "The next of kin information would be helpful. And yes, I was almost a murder victim," Cecily replied. It was a bit ironic to her, given that in the first two years she was in Justice, she was undergoing therapy for depression. Homicide was never a possibility that crossed her mind for what her own death certificate might one day read.
"Caesar...Did Alicia have a Facebook or anything? Did she ever mention the names of her friends?"
Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway
Location: Boston Heights
Seeing Marc with a gun, his finger on the trigger, Tuesday's eyes widened. Sure, the two of them had had their ups and downs. But...he wouldn't kill her, would he? She gulped a bit as he came at her, but seeing him put the gun away, she let out a side of relief. The hard stuff tended to make her a bit paranoid, and she almost laughed at herself, even as Marc pulled her into a hug.
"Smoker lungs, Marc...Can't breath..." Tuesday joked, snickering a bit as he let her go. "And good. Ask me no questions and I won't have to think up some bullshit to tell you. And, while I'm at it, I'm just going to plead the fifth in advance...Just in case." She winked a bit at him, though her face was a bit drawn. She had gotten worse since the reunion, it was written in her face and her features. Of course, she still didn't look nearly as bad as some in the Deadlight District--but those that had known her in high school, such as Marc, they would notice.
"Fine, fine, fine..." Tuesday sighs, mockingly putting her hands up in the air. "But I don't see why we need to visit Riley. She isn't my mom. I'm a fucking adult and I'd like to be treated like one." At the thick accent, however, Tuesday realized there was little chance that the man was Marc's partner. The name sounded familiar as well -- she remembered seeing a girl reading one of his books in Cell Block D.
"It's actually Sunday," she teased, shaking his hand. "Chloe Ridgeway."