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She watched with interest. The lawyer's handwriting was far neater than anything Emmett could write out, even if she took her time. She caught sight of digits as an explanation hit the air, and it took the mechanic by surprise. She had the number of the law firm, and could have easily found a way to get into direct contact with Teddy, but this cut out any middle work whatsoever.
After the paper was pinned to the fridge, Emmett brought her gaze back to the lawyer, immediately catching those bright blue eyes. It was hard to hold them, but Emmett couldn't imagine looking away, either, so she held through it.
"Will do, boss." It felt like an appropriate title for the person that was in charge of putting her simple life back together. She took hold of her mug, gesturing it into the air for a moment before taking another gulp.
Not a lot of people had the lawyer's direct phone number. It was a rare occasion where Teddy would give the direct work line, because there were so few who really needed it. This, however, felt like a unique situation. She would never say it aloud, but this woman seemed the type to take justice into her own hands. That was a lawyer's worst nightmare.
Boss? Her eyebrows quirked up at the word. She wasn't the first to use it, but she was the first of those who didn't work for her to adopt it.
"Stop being cute. I mean it." Teddy pointed out, but there was a hint of teasing to her tone. Drawing the pen up, she used it to point at her; "This is our fight. Don't leave me out of it for a second, okay?"
Curious, dark eyes watched from behind her mug as the lawyer's eyebrows shot up, and her own mimicked the action once a particular teasing statement escaped her lips. Emmett had been called a great deal of things, but she couldn't recall the last time she'd been referred to as cute - at least not to her face. It was unexpected, especially from her lawyer, though the mechanic found no complaints in it. She was grinning.
It was comforting to see how on board she was to help bring this case to a positive end, and Emmett gave a firm nod in agreement. "Not even for a second," she confirmed, setting her now empty coffee mug down on the counter. She genuinely meant it, too. Emmett doubted she could get very far without her on her side.
"What if I... had a question or something. Would it be just as easy to come into the office?"
Really, a direct line of communication was all Teddy could do. The lifeline sat on her fridge and she could only hope between now and the next few days that that number would enter her phone.
Cautious eyes narrowed on her instinctively. She'd have to take her word for it.
"If you think it'd be better for you." She replied then. In her mind, there was nothing simple about going out of her way to come to the office. A phone call seemed much easier.
Emmett considered the offer an open invite, even if it might not be easier to have a physical presence, Emmett liked the idea of having it as an option. She hasn't caught any sign of concern, because for the mechanic there was no need. The worst had been done, and although it was far from over, she couldn't think of how this would get worse. Unless someone did steal one of the many jerseys she didn't think to check when going over possessions with the cops. That would be hard to get over.
"Hey. Sorry. I know I like, just brought you up here but is it cool if I look through my jerseys back in the garage?" She pushed herself away from the counter. It was weird asking permission to move about her own home, or to apologize for it. "Cause that could be like a lead or something, right? I mean not that I want my shit stolen but-" She cut herself off.
It seemed as if a thought had caught her, then. Or perhaps she finally gave into one that had been nagging her for a while. But there was a request - to the lawyer, of all people - to leave this encounter and go check on the state of downstairs again.
Really, she was the only one able to do proper inventory.
Resting the mug against the counter, Teddy forced herself to stand up straight, too. Hands clasped together briefly before she indicated to the door; "No, by all means." She said then, ready to follow along. It wasn't as if she planned to stay here on her own.
The mechanic smiled with comfort when the lawyer complied so willingly. It only took a moment for Emmett to start for the door, gesturing back to the drink. "You can take that with you if you're not done. I don't care if drinks are down there." It would be cruel to offer a coffee and not let the woman finish it, and she likely had half a dozen coffee mugs hanging around the garage from her own caffeine obsession.
Quick footing brought them down the steps from her home and into her garage. Nothing had the chance to be picked up yet, and Emmett made sure to tread with care as she stepped around the tools strewn across the floor. "I had three of them on the walls." Emmett explained, walking over towards the first one she caught sight of. A quick sigh of relief escaped her lips, fingers curling around the fabric as she held it up, shaking off a few shards of glass from where it was framed. Inspection proved it wasn't damaged. "Wayne Gretzky," Emmett held it up to insure the lawyer could see. "Greatest player of all time." In her horribly biased opinion. "You know much about hockey?"
Despite the offer, Teddy left the mug where she'd put it down. Something about rifling through smashed and broken property made her think she'd need both hands. It also made her consider that they wouldn't be clean after this, no matter how many towels were thrown in her direction. She followed the path she'd only really just taken, back into the mess downstairs. The sight made her sad, and it wasn't even hers to really deal with.
Three on the walls. Teddy's eyes glanced at them briefly to understand that they weren't there anymore. Then she glanced over the first one being held up for her.
"Which team jerseys are you supposed to have?" She asked then, eyes searching the mess strewn across the floor in search for familiar colours instead.
It would have been extremely stupid for anyone to have taken the jersey she held in her hands. It was by far the most valuable out of the three, and would have been hard to hide a trail if they wanted to sell it. Even if it could have helped catch the person that vandalized her home, she was thankful this particular one was there and in tact. She carefully folded it in half, setting it aside. "I have another Kings one, and it's black and white like that one," she gestured to the Gretzky jersey. "And the other one is red with white - it's the women's Canadian Olympic jersey from fourteen." Such a good game; Emmett knew a skilled team when she saw one, and Canada had it in her bag, preferring them over her own country.
One would think either of those colors would stand out, but the mechanic struggled to see through the mess. In part, because it was her mess to deal with. The sight of her disheveled garage still pained her greatly. She tried to keep smiling.
From her distance and even with her eyes, Teddy saw no immediate damage to the fabric. She must have been grateful then considering how easily that could have turned for the worse. Broken glass littered the search area.
Seconds after the year number left her lips, Teddy was moving. She was careful; high heels didn't equate for good movement through the rubbish piles that had been left in the wake of stranger's destruction. But she was good in them, so she hardly struggled. Reaching down, fingertips plucked the barest hint of a sleeve from the wreckage.
"Five seconds left. Gold medal finish." She mused aloud, holding it up for her to inspect.
Her attention had been drawn to the floor, still in search of any sign of the two remaining jersey's, but when an accent called out the details of the power play that brought the Canadian women's hockey team home with their fourth consecutive gold metal, her eyes shot upwards. And there it was. The mechanic grinned, in part because she hadn't expected the lawyer to know such details - especially considering she wasn't from either of the participating teams for gold.
"That was such a good game." Emmett beamed, stepping over glass and tools as she moved closer towards Teddy. Her fingertips brushed the bottom of the jersey. There was a small tear in the arm, but nothing of significant damage. "Probably the best in Olympic history." Again, biased.
There was a brighter side to this woman Teddy was beginning to understand. There were such simple joys in life. It had already been clear that this wasn't just about an expensive set of sports memorabilia.
There was a small tear, but she didn't want to be the one to say it. She especially didn't want to be the one to say this.
"Now for the bad news." She said, raising her chin a fraction. "Unless it's expertly buried, which would be odd considering the nature of the damage, I don't think the other one's here." Then she frowned instinctively.
A tear could be mended; that particular jersey wasn't of actual value other than the emotional one Emmett placed on it. That, she could live with. What brought a frown to the mechanic's features was the news that the last seemed to be missing all together. Her eyebrows lowered as her own gaze gave another scan of the room. From her own perspective, it was nowhere to be seen, and Emmett let out a little groan.
"Why would someone take something like that?" She asked genuinely, wondering if the lawyer had any sort of insight. "It wasn't even signed. I mean, I don't even think it's really worth that much."
Her nose crinkled as she took the women's jersey into her hands, thumbs rubbing over the fabric. "It was the first Kings game I went to. I hung it up 'cause it was too big, and they were sold out of ones that fit me but I wanted to get one anyway." It was a good memory. "I accidentally got grease on the elbow, too." Out of the three, it had been in the worst shape.
Teddy fully expected the third jersey to be as financially imperative as the other ones. It would have followed suit, if nothing else. But the news that it wasn't drew clear surprise to her eyes. Still, she watched sympathetically as Emmett explained its importance. Her mind worked to catch the information in tandem with building the most likely, most experienced scenario.
"That could be why." She said, apologetically. After all, this was a hate crime. If it even looked remotely sentimental, that was a big deal.
She drew her phone out immediately, "Do you have pictures?" She asked. Of course, she had to, "And the number the police officer assigned to your case, please."
Sentimental attacks. Her jaw clenched at the stupidity of it, mostly because it was effective. It irked the mechanic that someone had her jersey just because they could. Fortunately, she hadn't the time to simmer on the anger that would have inevitably burst had she not had company. Instead she reached into her own pocket, pulling out her own phone. "Oh, yeah." It took her a few moments, but she then turned the phone in the lawyer'd direction. The picture shown was of Emmett herself wearing it the oversized jersey, taking a selfie with another woman, older than herself, as they sat in the stadium. Emmett's grin was far bigger than the meek smile the other person wore.
She handed the phone over to Teddy before shuffling towards one of the remaining upright shelves. There, papers were stacked, held down with a wrench. Possibly not the safest place to store police documents, but the mechanic didn't consider it. "Uh, okay, I think I have it here." She returned back with the papers.
