Thread: Why Does the Caged Bird Sing? (Corsair and Xana)

He knew who I was. The thought consumed Mercedes mind as she sat in the waiting room of the Chicago Daily News. It had consumed her last night, as she drove away from the burning warehouse, evading the red and blue flashing lights. As she lied in bed beside her husband, and rapist, struggling for sleep. As she awoke early the next morning, hearing Vinnies tirade as he learned the details of what had happened. She slipped out then, while he was so focused on the hit to pay her much attention. Because there was no way Vinnied approve of this meeting. Vinnie was not a fan of the Chicago Daily News, certainly not a fan of the hard-hitting stories it ran, painting him and his dealing in a bad light. She might as well have gone to visit Al Capone, as bad as this meeting would look, if it got out. Which was why she had disguised herself again, hopefully a bit better this time. Long hair pinned in tight curls behind her ears, covered with a scarf. Wide brimmed circular sunglasses covered her eyes, and she looked to the world just a high class, respectable woman, running her errands for the day. Blending into a crowd, instead of standing out as she did on stage. Mercedes always did have a good ear. It was half the reason music came so naturally to her. And it how she survived the past eight years of marriage to a mob boss, listening to conversations through the walls, and keep abreast of her husbands dealings. And now, she could hear the group talking in the office. About the fire, about the killings. About the Raven. That must have been the man she met, last night. The one who knew who she was Mr. Stone will see you now, His secretary invited, ushering her in. Inside she, she met the eyes of the thin man and the tall woman, before fixing her gaze on the man behind the desk. William Stone. Had she seen him before? I appreciate you meeting me like this, She acknowledged, offering her gloved hand in a hearty shake, Is thereis there any way we could be alone? The man and the woman studied her, before exchanging curious glances. Right, Marilyn nodded, standing up to offer her chair, Let me get working on that column. Should have it ready to go with the evening edition. She and Emmett left the office, door closing behind them with a soft click. Mercedes took the seat Marilyn had sat in, removing her glasses and scarf to reveal herself to Will, hoping he understood the need for pretense. Its not exactly safe for me to be seen here, like this, Mercedes started, But I wasnt sure where else to turn. Half the cops in the city are on my husbands payroll, and even if they werent, I doubt many would give a good goddamn to my domestic woes. Truthfully, I dont even know how you can help me, really. Its not like Mob Boss Beats Wife would be news to anyone. She sighed, realizing she was rambling, wondering if this whole thing wasnt a huge mistake. Fidgeting with her sunglasses, she remembered what The Raven had told her. The thing is, I know things. Vinnie dont think so, but I do. I know things, but I dont know who to tell. I dont know whod listen to me, and all the things Id have to say. MaybeMaybe it can help you out. Or you can pass it along to someone else who might be interested. I just dont know who to trust, who isnt going to turn around tell my husband I blabbed about him.