Rated M for language and mild description of sexual violence.

"That perp ain't going anywhere for a while," Odafin Tutuola said, dropping a file down in front of Elliot Stabler. He picked it up, flipping through the case with a smirk, "Case closed."

"Good to see justice being done," Elliot commented, closing the file and storing it in his desk. "Have you seen Liv?"

"Yeah, she's with the captain…he's not happy about how you two handled the situation, but he'll get over it easier now that that dirt-bag's behind bars."

"Why didn't he call me in with her?"

"You think I'd know the method to his madness?" Fin retorted, shaking his head, "Sorry, you can ask him yourself if he calls you in." Elliot rolled his eyes and went back to the stack of paperwork in front of him. John Munch stepped out from the office and glanced over at Elliot with a sympathetic look.

"Get ready for it. The captain might want to talk to you next if he doesn't take it all out on her first."

"Why didn't he call me in then?" Elliot demanded, standing up. Munch shrugged.

"He knows you two work well together…maybe to keep the story straight he wants to talk to you separately."

"I doubt it…"

Olivia Benson stepped out of the office about twenty minutes later, sighing as she sat down across from her partner, "What'd he say?" Elliot asked, writing away on the papers for a long moment before glancing up at her questioningly. Olivia gave him a knowing look before replying.

"That he'll have our asses the next time we decide to go back into the case once it was declared closed." She said, starting on her paperwork. "That we almost cost him another ten days suspension out of work."

"We had all of the evidence we needed to convict that man, there was no way we could let him walk free," he said, "he raped three women and a child…I'd walk out that front door and never look back before that son of a bitch got off without any charges."

"Well, usually I'd back off but I couldn't agree more," Olivia said with a nod.

"I need to talk to a detective."

"Of course…may I ask if you're alright?" Cragen replied, glancing over the young woman in front of him. She looked shaken, and the bruises on her face looked fresh.

"I'd like to discuss this with a detective," she demanded, "I can't—um, I don't want to discuss this with anyone else, I'm sorry…"

"It's alright," he nodded, "Benson, Stabler…" She glanced over his shoulder to see the two detectives stand up and walk over to their spot. She cringed, backing up.

"I want to talk to her…please." Her hand shook as she pointed to Olivia.

"Come on," Olivia said, reaching out to her slowly, "We'll take this into a questioning room, this way." Olivia shrugged at Elliot's silent question and followed the young girl into the first room. Olivia closed the door carefully and sat down across from the her.

"Um…you can probably tell these bruises weren't self-inflicted or accidental, right?" She sniffed, laughing at the obvious. Lifting her hand, she brought it to her eyes and rubbed the moisture away, wincing at the pain.

"Somebody hurt you," it wasn't a question. The girl nodded, "I need to ask you a few questions so we can put your file on the record, is that alright?" She nodded again. "Okay, good. Let's start with your name."

"My name is Samara Williams," she answered, "I'm seventeen, or just turned seventeen."

"Okay," Olivia answered, jotting down the newfound information, "Samara, can you tell me what happened? Who did this to you?"

"I don't know," Samara sighed, "I've never seen his face."

"Has this man harassed you before?"

"Uh, yes…five times…" she looked down at her hands, ashamed, "three times he's physically hit me…five times he's raped me. Since the time I was thirteen."

"Samara, that's four years…why didn't you tell anyone?" Olivia asked, hurting for her.

"I was scared!" She sobbed, her voice breaking, "He's threatened me…I wake up at night and sometimes he's there, sitting at the end of my bed watching me sleep and other times when I'm home alone he talks to me through the vent to my bedroom!" Her eyes wetting again, "He tells me to behave! To be his good little slut…he's only raped me five times but I don't know why he doesn't just kill me already!"

"Shhh…it's okay Samara," Olivia whispered, "It's okay…I don't want to upset you." Samara wiped at her eyes again and Olivia watched her for a moment, "This is why you didn't want my partner in here…does Detective Stabler intimidate you?" Samara nodded and dried her eyes.

"I don't want that to offend him…"

"Don't worry, he's got a tough skin," Olivia reassured her with a small smile, "did you ever see anything that might be useful about your rapist? Hair? Eyes? Skin color? Did you know him at all? Was his voice familiar?"

"Uh, his eyes were…green. I've only seen him once in light. As for his hair, it looked like a very dark brown—maybe black." Samara answered, "He's white…and he has a scar that runs from his right eye to the corner of his mouth. His mask doesn't cover his whole face. He had uh, a muscular jaw…he—he bit me constantly. He marked me," she said, crying again. "I don't recognize him at all, but I suspect he's been following me around for the last four or five years. His voice is gravelly, I'd know it if I heard it. I don't ever remember seeing him any other times without a mask…I don't recognize him at all."

"Alright…is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all will be a big help."

"Um…I think he works out regularly. When he pins me down, I can't get him off of me. His chest is hard." Olivia nodded one last time and stood up.

"I'm going to call your parents, okay?" She asked, "Just stay here and I'll be back in a few minutes."

"I don't want to stay here alone, detective." Samara called out, "Can someone stay in here with me, please?"

"Uh, my partner Detective Stabler can…I don't know if you want him to."

"It's alright. I'll be fine…he's a cop." Olivia stepped out, motioning for Elliot to go in. She knew he'd be listening; it was now his case just as much as it was hers.

"Is she sure she wants me in there, Liv?" He asked.

"You can go in," Olivia replied, "just keep some space between her. Stay towards the windows, not at the door and maybe she'll be alright." Elliot nodded and headed in, offering a gentle 'hello'.

"Hello," Samara replied, looking down at the table, "you're Detective Stabler."

"I am," he said, "would you like me to keep the door open?"

"Uh sure," she answered with a shaky voice, "you won't hurt me."

"No, I won't. I'm a cop, it's my job to protect you," Elliot reasoned, leaning against the wall next to the mirror.

"I know you heard," she said after a moment, "I know that's one-way glass…and I know this place can be muted at the push of a button. It's okay…like you said, you're a cop. You can ask whatever you want."

"Well you see, Samara, I'm not here to interrogate you. And my partner's already asked you what we need to know." He watched her carefully, though she never looked up, "Now it's our turn. We're going to find this man and we're going to put him behind bars so he can't hurt you anymore."

"What if you can't find him?"

"Nine times out of ten we do."

"I'll be that tenth time…" Samara sighed defeated. Elliot slowly made it over to the table, leaning against his palms.

"You won't be. We will catch him." She finally looked up, cowering back into her chair. He sat down so he wasn't towering over her and she visibly relaxed, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said, meeting his eyes, "You didn't rape me…I didn't tell anyone before, so you couldn't prevent it."

"You're right, but I can now," he replied, "that's all that matters at the moment."

"Do you have kids, detective?" She implored quietly. Elliot nodded.

"I have five kids," he responded.

"Do you ever treat the victims like they were your kids?"

"Sometimes," Elliot said with a shrug, "depends on if they deserve the treatment or not. If it's a child that's raped, yes. If it's an adult, I'd treat them respectfully. But if they lie about it, then I have to turn into the bad cop." Samara nodded, biting her lip. She looked pleased with the answer and thanked him. They fell into a silence for a few minutes.

"Do you think I'm lying?" She asked. Elliot looked taken back; her questioned confused him.

"That eye tells me no." He said, "And I say no as well. You're shaken by my presence…unless you're a sociopath, I don't see why you would be lying. Samara, we will catch him."

Olivia returned then, mentioning to Samara that her parents would be down at the precinct in about twenty minutes. "Mother's on her way from work, father's on his way from home."

"If her father was at home, where was she last attacked?"

"We'll ask her again when her parents arrive. She doesn't recognize the man, El. It couldn't be her father…unless a scar runs from his eye to his lip, I don't think it's him at all."

"He could be one hell of a cover up, too."

"I doubt it. Nobody could keep up an act like that for four years…the scar would have to be fake and in the same place, same alignment as the last time. I don't think it'd be him." Elliot shrugged but didn't disagree. Samara had followed them quietly, but they spoke too low for her to hear.

XxxxX

"Olivia, Samara's parents just arrived, they're coming up," Elliot said, hanging up the phone.

"Okay, I'll go and get them. Be right back," she pushed out from her desk and headed to the elevator, riding down to the lobby. She spotted them immediately; they were the only frantic people there at the moment, and they were asking for Samara. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Williams? I'm Detective Olivia Benson from the Special Victims Unit. I called you on the phone. Your daughter's upstairs with my partner at the moment, I can take you up there to see her."

"Is she alright? I she badly hurt at all?" Mrs. Williams begged.

"She's good for the moment. A few cuts and bruises but nothing too major." Olivia answered, "Samara's a little shaken, however."

"Can you bring us to her?" Mr. Williams asked, relief flooding his voice at the news she was alright. Olivia nodded and they headed upstairs.

"She's right in here." Before they could be stopped, they rushed to her side; Samara shrank back, frightened by the fast movement, covering her face in defense. It nearly broke her parents' hearts; both Olivia and Elliot felt empathy for the young girl. Elliot, from experience with Kathleen, and Olivia from her own childhood.

"Samara, it's just us," Mrs. Williams said, holding back her tears. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around her daughter and finally cried. "My poor baby. I'm so sorry!" They allowed the parents a few minutes to calm down before they asked to speak with them privately.

"Right in that room right there," Olivia said, Elliot in tow as they entered the question room again. "We just need to ask a few questions…part of procedure. Is that alright?"

"Yes," Mr. Williams replied, holding his wife's hand.

"Do you know where Samara was today?"

"She was in school until three. Usually she goes for a walk around the neighborhood once she gets home…she's old enough to and it allows her to have some space." Mrs. Williams explained, "Samara knows better than to go off with a stranger."

"You don't think she'd willingly go with someone she didn't know, do you?" Her father asked, suddenly very sick.

"We don't know," Elliot said truthfully, "but it doesn't look like a situation she'd go through willingly." He was honestly amazed this girl was still alive, but the perp definitely wanted something from her if he was keeping her alive. Even his blood boiled at the thought of anyone touching an innocent child; regardless of if she was his kid or not.

"Has Samara had any changes in behavior that you ever noticed?"

"She stopped talking to her friend Jason about two years ago." Her mother offered, "But her rape only just happened…could he possibly have done it?" Olivia glanced over at Elliot sadly.

"Well, breaking off some sort of a relationship could be used as a motive, but it doesn't seem strong enough if they just fell out." Olivia said, "but this isn't the first time he's sexually assaulted her. Samara mentioned this time being the fifth."

"Five times?"

"She was too afraid to tell anyone," Olivia defended gently, "most teenagers who are sexually assaulted experience shame in the mix of their emotions. Detachment, fear, anxiety…they're all triggered from something traumatizing. In Samara's case, her rape has caused some detachment and fear."

"Can we get Jason's last name as well?" Elliot asked, "We need to rule out every suspect. Anyone close to Samara."

"Jason Lauff."

XxxxX

Lauff Residence
131-04 125th Street, Manhattan, NY
Friday, January 10

"How do we know Jason's the guy? A broken relationship—a friendship at most, isn't much of a motive to rape somebody." Olivia said, walking beside her partner as they made it up the street to the apartment building.

"Liv, we've had cases that didn't even have a strong enough motive. Hell, some even didn't have a motive, or intentions to kill but it still happened. He's a teenage boy…hormones, anger management…revenge? Maybe he's a little out of it. We won't know until we at least investigate him."

"But what about the scar? Samara specifically, in detail, gave us the information on it. She's never seen even the guy before…she would know if it were him, wouldn't she?" Olivia tried, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

"They haven't spoken in two years…maybe he got into an accident that caused him a permanent, new scar." Elliot said, about ready to ring the bell, "His appearance could have changed."

"This perp has raped her for four years though…do you think Jason might have had something against her then to?"

"It's possible." He replied. He pushed the button, waiting for the response.

"Who is it?" A female voice called.

"NYPD, Detectives Stabler and Benson. Can we speak to your son, Jason Lauff?" Elliot said. There was no response at first, but then there was a buzz indicating the door was unlocked. They stepped inside and headed up the flight of stairs to the apartment.

"What did my son do this time?" She accused as soon as she opened the door. She looked pissed, but also not surprised.

"This time?" Olivia questioned, "What has Jason done before?"

"My son has been a druggie these last couple of months…a little over a year at most." Ms. Lauff said, allowing them inside, "I caught him, sent him to rehab. He relapsed, all that crap." She sighed, shaking her head, "He used to be a good kid…things changed though."

"When did they change?"

"About six months ago, when his father died. A little bit before then, but I don't remember when it started."

"Is your son around, Ms. Lauff?" Elliot asked, looking around the apartment.

"He's out with some friends at the moment. Um, what is it that he's done now? Nothing illegal I hope…I swear to god I'll ground him for life if he violated his parole again…Jesus—,"

"Well, we're not sure if he did it but he used to be friends with Samara Williams. Do you know her?"

"Yeah…blonde, uh, smart. They used to be good friends, she'd come around a lot. Sweet girl," Ms. Lauff smiled sadly, "Nothing's happened to her right?"

"Uh not exactly. We can't explain too much of the case, but recently she brought it to our attention that someone has been sexually assaulting her for the last couple of years. We just need to get a statement from Jason."

"Oh god! Do you think he did this to her?"

"We don't know that," Olivia replied, "we're just ruling out everyone who was or is close to her."

"Does your son have any scars on his face?"

"Uh…one above his right eye. Knife pulled on him from a dealer…I nearly killed that boy, I was so mad."

"Any others? From fighting, maybe?"

"Nah…not any visible ones," she said, shaking her head, "Just one above the eye. He should be home soon, do you want to wait for him?"

"No that's all right. We'll come back in a little while." Elliot answered, "We have some other things to take care of. We will need to take him down to the precinct once we find him, though. Here's my card if he comes home before we return." The detectives exited the apartment then, stepping out onto the street once the door shut behind them.

"His mother doesn't watch him, doesn't know where he is half the time. Jason's almost eighteen, which means he's almost legally an adult and allowed to go wherever he wants." Olivia said, listing off the facts on her fingers.

"And Brooklyn's not far from Manhattan. Which also means that Jason has enough time to get there and rape Samara."

"We don't know if it's him, though. He doesn't have a scar from his eye to his mouth, his mother can attest to that."

"Well we'll see for ourselves once we get the kid in questioning." They got back into the car and headed down for the station.

XxxxX

"Any news on the boy?" Fin asked as Elliot threw his keys down on his desk; Olivia sat down at her computer and typed in some information, hoping to find more.

"Jason wasn't home when we got there. His mother was, and she doesn't seem too surprised that we showed up." She said, pulling up his previous files, "it seems that Jason has violated his parole once. I'm trying to see what he was sentenced to parole for, and how many other things he's done that's made his mother unresponsive."

"So what'd the mother say?" Munch looked up from his paperwork, glancing between the two detectives at the laptop.

"He has a scar above the right eye from a drug dealer pulling a knife on the kid, but it's not the scar Samara described." Elliot explained, watching over Olivia's shoulder.

"Maybe she got confused and only thought she saw a scar? She could have been in shock after being raped multiple times." Fin pointed out, "She's only seen him once in daylight and even then he was wearing a mask, right?"

"Right," Olivia said, "but she's positive that every time he's come back for her he had a scar running down the right side of his face."

"That's a coincidence," Munch remarked, putting his pen down to fold his hands together, "both Jason and Samara's rapist have a scar on the right side of their faces…both next to the eye."

"You think maybe this drug dealer brands his customers?" Fin questioned. Munch shrugged.

"Possible."

"That's one hell of a brand." Elliot commented, "Speaking hypothetically. We don't know if Samara and Jason even know this perp, let alone him using the same drug dealer as Jason."

"It's worth a look-in. That perp knows Samara." The phone rang then, on Elliot's desk. He reached across the two desks and picked it up.

"Detective Elliot Stabler," he greeted, listening as the caller spoke on the other end. Olivia looked up at him and he nodded, "Alright, we'll be right down."

"Did Jason go home?" She asked once he hung it up.

"Yeah, and we're about to go get him and bring him in for a little questioning."

XxxxX

Lauff Residence
131-04 125th Street, Manhattan, NY
Friday, January 10

Second time that day, Elliot pushed the button; the annoying buzz caught the attention of Ms. Lauff once again, "Come on up." They pulled the door open and made their way back upstairs to the front door. "Jason's in the living room."

"Jason Lauff," Olivia said, walking past his mother into the other room; they held their badges up and Jason glared at his mother.

"You called the friggin' cops on me?" He demanded, pulling his headphones out, "Why? What the hell did I do this time, mom?"

"Well we won't know that until we can get a statement from you," Elliot replied, "we need to take you down to the precinct."

"You can't ask your questions here?"

"It would be more efficient, and easier for us to do our jobs if we could bring you down there." Olivia explained calmly. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Look I just got home…I'm tired. So just ask your questions now."

"That's not how it's going to work, Jason," Elliot said, strict. He was growing impatient with Jason as the boy's arrogance grew to an all-time high. "We don't care if you were too busy shooting up, chasing girls, or whatever you were doing that made you exhausted. We need to ask you questions about Samara Williams. You remember her, don't you?"

"Oh crap," Jason froze, "what happened?"

"Are you willing to head down to the precinct now?" Olivia asked.

"Uh yeah, yeah, sure."

"That's Jason Lauff. What the hell is he doing here?" Samara demanded, crossing her arms over herself defensively, "We haven't spoken in years, why is he here?"

"We need him to answer a few questions."

"Whoa wait…y-you think Jason raped me, don't you?" She looked disgusted at the thought and shook her head quickly, "No he didn't do this…he doesn't even have a scar on his face."

"Actually he does, just not the one you described." Elliot responded, "but he was once a good friend of yours. It's only necessary that we get the suspects out of the way in order to find the one responsible. It's possible that he could know the man who raped you."

"Well I don't want to talk to him." Samara said finally.

"You don't have to," Olivia reassured her. She followed Elliot into the room and sat down across from Jason. Elliot pressed his back to the wall by the door and Jason shook nervously, waiting for them to speak.

"Samara…s-she's not—she's not dead, is she?" He whispered, growing sicker at the mention.

"No, she's not. However, she was raped—,"

"Oh my god!"

"Jason calm down, Samara is alright right now. She's here, she can't be touched."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Uh not at the moment," Elliot answered, "we need to get the questions out of the way first." Jason nodded in understanding but he was growing impatient. He wanted to talk to Samara. "Where were you earlier today?"

"You don't think I raped her, do you?" Jason accused, jumping to conclusions.

"No, we don't. But we also don't know if you're lying to us."

"I'm not lying!" Jason yelled, standing up, "Why would I ever rape her? She was my best friend!" He walked over to the window and sighed, shaking his head frantically.

"Well you two had a pretty messy falling out; so we were told. Why don't you start by telling us about that?" Olivia suggested, her eyes were trained on him.

"Samara…after her brother died—uh, he took his own life about four years ago, right around the time we stopped talking. I tried to be there for her, but she grew more and more distant. I tried to give her space when it happened. I wanted her to talk to me but she just kept pushing me away. Then she started talking to Andrew Clallum…she looked happy and it really pissed me off because Andrew knew—she told him about her brother, but she wouldn't talk to me. I just wanted to help her, but she didn't want my help." The door flew open then and Samara marched in; she looked angry. Cragen stood behind her, trying to get her back out into the other room.

"Andrew didn't know about my brother!" She corrected, her chest heaving with anger.

"Samara, go back out there," Elliot said, slowly approaching her, "we're questioning Jason." Samara ignored him and kept her attention focused on the seventeen year old on the other side of the room. "Samara."

"I didn't tell him anything about Aaron. He never even questioned me about him, unlike you! You kept bringing the thoughts back!"

"Well I'm sorry for caring, Samara, but I wanted to be there for you!" Jason snapped, crossing the room. He stood only a few feet from her, his stance matching hers.

"You couldn't do anything! Coddling me sure as hell wasn't going to bring him back!" Samara retorted.

"Right and all this time I thought that if I suffocated you it would resurrect your dead brother!" He hissed, glaring straight at her. Samara stepped forward, swinging her arm back before it connected with the skin of his cheek. He flinched, stunned that she actually hit him; it caused Elliot to jump in between them and Olivia to force her back out of the room. She was still yelling at him, sobbing.

"I can't believe you just said that to me! You were always an asshole and I can see that nothing's change!" She shouted, just as the door closed.

"What the hell were you thinking, Samara?" Olivia demanded, "you can't just barge into an investigation like that. Not to mention that you just assaulted him in front of two cops."

"He deserved it!" Samara replied, turning away, "I'm sorry…but we don't get along and we never will again." Olivia sighed and glanced through the window into the room at Elliot trying to calm Jason down. She turned back to Samara for a brief moment.

"We can't have you two fighting like cats and dogs, alright?" Samara sighed impatiently but nodded. Cragen turned the microphones in the room back on to listen in. When Olivia returned, they continued the investigation. "Sorry about that, Jason."

"I don't want her to hate me." Jason said quietly, looking down at his hands.

"She'll get over it," Elliot replied, resting back against the wall once again, "you can continue with your story."

"Uh…well shortly after we weren't friends anymore, I turned to drugs and made new friends. You've probably heard thousands of these stories, or just don't believe me. I wanted friends, and Samara was the only one I had until the drugs made me feel powerful."

"Jason, do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt Samara?" Jason shrugged.

"I didn't touch her."

"We're not asking if you did, we're asking if you knew of anyone who wanted to hurt her." Elliot repeated.

"Not really, no. I mean, she's smart so most of the kids made fun of her for it, but none of them seemed like they wanted dominance over her or anything. Maybe some of the pervy football players that get off on kinky shit like that, but that's typical jocks. They get tired of the cheerleaders and go after the brainiac or low self-esteem types."

"We don't think it's a jock," Olivia dismissed, "this guys has been after her for four years, surely a pervy football player would have moved on by then. She was only thirteen then."

"Four years? So you're saying her brother's death didn't distance her?"

"Well it was probably a contributing factor, but she's terrified—more often than not, she's terrified of men." Olivia explained, "for rape victims, it's not easy for them to hide fear. They can't disguise it and move on. It's almost like a disease of the mind, it tells them how to feel about a certain factor to a traumatizing experience."

"So Samara's afraid of me."

"Most likely." She nodded.

"I don't know who'd want to hurt her." Jason finally said.

"You don't know about anyone with a scar going from their eye to their mouth? Right side of the face?" Elliot interrogated. Jason thought about it a moment and shrugged again.

"Uh, actually…my brother, James, he was a sophomore in college last time he called—which was a few months ago. Lives just outside of Queens. He spoke to mom, we had a falling out also and so he doesn't call to talk to me. He probably dropped out of college by now..." Jason rambled on for a moment, "But the last time he called, he told mom about a bad scar he acquired from work."

"What does he do?"

"Don't know."

"What's his address?"

"I don't know."

"Look Jason," Elliot began, growing annoyed by his lack of family matters, "I know you two don't talk, we've established that, but you gotta give us something."

"Ask my mom, I don't know anything about him."

"Alright," Olivia said before Elliot could spit something out, "We'll go and talk to her again. Thank you, Jason, you're free to go." Jason stood up and left quickly, shoving past Samara as he left. "Those two are going to avoid each other like the plague now."

"You saw what happened, they clearly don't want to try and get along." Olivia sighed and nodded, heading out behind Elliot as they went back out to their desks to get more work done. They planned to head out tomorrow for further questioning; surely Ms. Lauff was going to be annoyed by them for being at her apartment for the third time that day. They'd give her a break for the rest of the day, much to Samara's dismay. Olivia typed in Lauff and pulled up more files, James' file catching her attention. "Looks like James has a record himself."

"What do you have on him?" Elliot asked, walking around the desk to her side.

"Looks like James here had charges pressed on him for credit card theft, identity theft, and assault."

"The whole family probably has a record," Elliot commented, reading through the file. "What's the assault?"

"Uh, school fight in 2003." Olivia read, "Credit card theft in '07, and identity theft in '09. Twenty-three years old…license was suspended last month for intoxicated driving, but it says his address is on 175th Street, still in Queens. Apartment 4G at the Grayson's Apartment building."

"Head up there tomorrow after we have a little follow up chat with his mother?"

"Sure."

XxxxX

Lauff Residence
131-04 125th Street, Manhattan, NY
Saturday, January 11

"What? What do you people want now? My son and I told you everything we knew about that girl and who could have harmed her." Ms. Lauff complained, leaving them at the door as she walked into the kitchen, "you people are persistent."

"Well the case is still open," Elliot said, brushing off her sudden ignorance. Many people gave them the same treatment after the second time of their visits, her attitude was nothing new from the last twelve years. "You didn't mention you had a second son."

"The question never came up. The whole conversation was directed at Jason. James hasn't been here in two years, he's busy with college so I didn't see it necessary."

"Well Jason mentioned that he called you a few months ago."

"He did."

"He also said that James told you about a newly acquired scar. We just wanted to know how it happened and where he got it from."

"James works at a bar; the Utopia Wine & Liquor Outlet. He said one of his customers was so drunk he pulled a knife on him when he refused to give him another drink." Ms. Lauff explained, "Anything else you want to pry out of me? Perhaps my husband's absence?"

"That won't be necessary, thank you." Elliot dismissed. They let themselves out and got back to the car, going over their facts. "Hopefully James can help us out."

"That depends on if he even knew Samara."

"Jason and Samara used to be friends; his mom said she always came around…if James left two years ago, he had to have been here when Samara came over." Olivia didn't disagree and they headed up to Queens to pay James a visit.

A/N: What do you think so far? This is my first L&O: SVU fanfic, but not my first fanfic, so bear with me and please don't be mean :)