Police Badge, Bloody Murder and the Pretty Girl.
Chapter One
"Cavanaugh," Lieutenant Tanner's cold voice rang out through the room full of men and that one woman (not including herself), "You're with Hastings for this case." The men in the room all chuckled darkly, making snide, sexist comments under their breaths. Toby, however, grinned widely at the fact he'd finally be working with the Spencer Hastings – she was, aside from Tanner (who nobody actually really saw as a woman), the only female detective in Rosewood. He was glad to be working with someone as brave, as cunning, as witty as her.
The sharp sound of heels clicking on the tile floor of the clean police department replace Tanner's voice as Spencer made her way over to Toby, "What happened, Boss?"
"Young woman, Emily Fields, went to visit her friend Alison DiLaurentis. Got there and the house was covered in blood – everywhere, apparently. Said her good friend was nowhere to be seen. Presumed murder but we can't be sure until you two check it out." The two young officers nodded, shocked; murder was rather rare in the small town of Rosewood. Recently there'd been break-ins, vandalism, drunken fights, but murder was new. Just as they both stood up, Tanner dropped a folder down onto the desk Toby had been seated at before continuing, "I picked you two, because unlike all the other idiots in here, you're both capable of sympathy. The poor girl sounded distraught, this'll be hard enough without two hard-nut officers accusing her of doing it. Don't let me down."
"I can promise you we won't, Lieutenant." Tanner nodded in response then sent them away with an address and the file titled, Missing Persons: A. DiLaurentis.
Spencer looked at the file sadly before holding her chin high up in the air and walking off to Toby's patrol car, heels clicking once again, hips swaying and resisting the urge to stick a middle finger up in the air at the men whistling behind her. She walked down the stairs as quickly as she could; smiling slightly at the only secretary there she liked – Hanna Marin – and followed after her new partner, "See you, Marin."
Hanna grinned widely, nodding her head enthusiastically, "You, too, Hastings. Be safe. You better come back with Cavanaugh."
"Have you got a leash back there?" Spencer winked with a wave and as she left the building, she breathed in the fresh air. It didn't take too long to find Toby's car as he was standing leaned up against it smoking a cigarette and watching the way the smoke rose in the air. He opened the passenger's door for Spencer, but instead of taking up his offer she opened the other door and sat in the driver's seat, "Getting in any time soon, T?"
Toby chuckled, sitting down and throwing his finished cigarette out the window, "Go, S," he teased, "I'm ready. Tanner said we're heading to 29 Bridgewater Terrace. Not too far from here."
"I know where it is," she muttered, again feeling shocked, "that's the house right beside the one I grew up in. My family sold it a few years ago when I joined the Force and they went off to England with my sister, Melissa and her fiancé, Wren. Anyway, what do you think happened to this girl, Alison?"
"No idea, Spencer. Just have to wait and see."
The rest of the car journey was spent in silence, both officers quietly thinking about why a murder had suddenly occurred. They lived in Rosewood for Christ's sake, people didn't just go around splattering their neighbour's blood around on a daily basis – this was serious, there had to be a motive behind it. Tanner said the body was missing, too, so did the killer just drag the victim around every inch of the house, spraying their blood on the walls, then run away with the corpse? It didn't make much sense to Spencer, or Toby, so instead of thinking about the different possibilities she focused on the road and decided to search for answers when they reached Alison's friend, Emily.
As Spencer pulled up to the closed-off drive way of the DiLaurentis home, Toby placed his hand on her forearm, "Hey, S, maybe you do the talking; I've heard you're a lot more sensitive than any of the guys on the Force, meaning you'll be more sensitive than me. I'll look around a bit whilst you talk, and when Miss Fields is done you can come around, too," Toby smiled after his plan. "Is that okay with you?"
"Sure, Cavanaugh. It's just routine to make the female cop do the talking." She replied sarcastically, only joking with Toby, but if it had been another Detective she would've been deadly serious.
"I didn't me—" He attempts to at least redeem himself but shuts up as Spencer quickly cuts him off,
"I'm kidding; right now I'd be more than happy to talk to the poor soul. I didn't exactly prepare myself to start my morning my looking at blood-stained walls." She opens the car door and steps out, sighing when her right heel scuffs against the overgrown grass just beside the road. The sight of the home she grew up in right beside the house under investigation pulled at her heart strings. If only her and her family still lived in that house, then maybe she could've saved the poor girl whose body was nowhere to be found. The thought of being able to stop a crime like this would've been so much better than having to solve it. Toby had already reached the bright yellow police tape that bordered the whole of the front garden and most likely the back of the house by the time Spencer remembered she had a job to do.
Nostalgia and pain filled her body as she drifted her gaze from her old home to the house beside it, and looked at the tall woman huddled in a blue blanket – despite being the same height as Spencer, if not taller, she looked so small sitting out on those front steps leading to the open ended porch. Miss Fields was visibly shuddering every two seconds with chattering teeth even in the early-September mild heat. Spencer knew that as an officer in the Rosewood Police Department, she wasn't allowed to let herself get attached to any of the people involved in a current case, yet she couldn't help but feel her heart drop slightly as she looked at Emily.
She walked across the outskirts of the DiLaurentis property slowly, careful not to stamp on any possible pieces of evidence or to break a heel of her shoe (sure, she was an officer and had a serious job that came with a lot of sexism, but Spencer was damn well good at her job and she always looked great doing it. There was no way she was risking a heel on her expensive shoes). There wasn't much to look at; just plants that had already begun to wither in the heat, a beat down mailbox with letters addressed to different members of the DiLaurentis family strewn across the grass and a small purple, woven bracelet thrown carelessly into the mud. Spencer stopped in her tracks and looked up, wondering if maybe that would be useful.
"Cavanaugh," she called out, chuckling when he whipped around almost immediately, losing his balance slightly, "Come here, I might have found something. You can check it out."
Toby walked over with the same precision Spencer had, looking down at the bracelet, "What exactly is it?"
"Hey, that's your job! I'm here to do the talking!"
Spencer pulled two pairs of thin, plastic gloves of her skirt pocket, handing a pair to her partner before slipping the other pair onto her own hands. Delicately, she picked it up and inspected it. The purple fabric wrapped around Spencer's fingers easily as she looked closely at the white stitching: ALISON. "She owned this…" Quickly, she swallows the lump forming in her throat and clears her it, "I'll keep a hold of this and ask Miss Fields if she's ever saw this."
So with that being said, Spencer briskly turns and walks to the woman still sitting alone. The closer she gets, the slower she walks, hoping that she'll blink and this'll all be a dream because someone is dead. There's no way she can do this case without getting attached, this isn't petty theft or a bunch a teenagers spray painting inappropriate drawings onto walls; someone's blood is splattered in the house that's only about 15 feet away from her at this point, and there body is gone. They're gone, and all that's left is a poor woman who has to deal with the grief all alone.
Emily heard the click of high heels and her head snapped up, thinking it was Alison. Instead, she was greeted with the sight of Spencer Hastings dressed smartly in a skirt shorter than most women's, with dark brown braces that hooked behind the back of ironed white dress shirt. It didn't take a genius to figure out who stood before her, so she let out a quiet, "Hi…"
The detective sat down on the steps beside her, careful of her skirt riding too far up, "Hello, Miss Fields, I'm Detective Spencer Hastings. I'd like to ask a few questions, but only if you're ready." Emily nodded numbly in response.
"Just a minute please."
"Of course, whenever you're ready." The two women sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking about the whole situation. It was only about 7am on a Tuesday morning, and already a murder investigation was being carried out and Emily had cried enough tears to last her a lifetime. Of course, since the body wasn't actually there, there was no way Emily could be sure that Alison was dead. Yet, for some reason (probably due to the blood and the detectives giving her solemn glances and sad smiles), she knew Ali wasn't going to just come home for dinner that night. But, if there was any chance of finding her, then Emily had to man up and answer some questions, no matter how bad she felt. On the bright side, at least it was Detectives Hastings and Cavanaugh – the two nicest, caring, head-strong people in Rosewood; plus, Hastings was the only woman to have the courage to be an officer in the world they lived in, meaning she probably didn't even have an ounce of judgemental snarkiness in her body.
The broken woman cleared her throat, "I'm ready now, I think."
"Alright, good. Miss Fields, if you need to stop at any time of feel uncomfortable at any time, just tell me and we can take a break. That okay?"
"Yes," Emily whispered, "Thank you."
"My pleasure. Now," Spencer's voice hardened a tiny bit, but was still probably as soft as the blanket covering Emily as she pulled out a small notebook and pencil, "did Miss DiLaurentis live alone?"
"Yes, well, her mother, father, and older brother also have their names in the contract for this house and sometimes stayed here, but for the most part Ali was alone here."
"You didn't live with her?"
"Um, well…" Emily hesitated.
"Well…?"
"Not by law, but yes. I stayed here frequently with her. She didn't like to be alone, it often scared her." That made Spencer scribble something on the piece of paper in her hand.
"Why's that, Emily?"
"Well, she never actually told me why, but I can assume it's because Ali was," her lips pursed as she thought of the correct word to describe her, "out there. She didn't exactly conform."
"Short dresses, bright lipstick, no husband; is that what you're saying?"
"Yes, Detective Hastings."
"What is – was – your relationship to Miss DiLaurentis?"
When Emily didn't reply for a few seconds, Spencer lifted her head to look at the woman beside her. Her head hung low and she stared at the flowerbed not too far from them. She continued, "Emily," her voice was quiet and gentle, "were you and Miss DiLaurentis in a relationship?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Fields." Spencer whispered, scared that if she spoke to loudly her voice would crack, and possibly Emily's world would, too. "Do you know of anyone who would hurt your partner?"
"I mean, well, if anyone knew about our relationship… Then, anyone could. I'm surprised you're still willing to help me, Detective Hastings."
"You can call me Spencer; I'm not just some disgusting pig the department dispatched, alright? I want to help you possibly find Alison, or at least find out what happened to her. What you do in the bedroom doesn't matter to me or Detective Cavanaugh," Spencer smiled, patting Emily's shaking hand. "We care about the case, and the people hurt because of it, not who they love."
Toby interrupted the moment with his clumsy, loud footsteps. "Hello, Miss Fields. I hope you're coping alright and S isn't too much of a hassle for you," he said kindly before turning to his partner, "They need you inside. Apparently I'm, and I quote, 'not smart enough for a case so intricate'. So, the only way they'd let me touch anything is if I had you with me."
She laughed loudly, already taking a liking to Toby and his way of doing, well, everything. "If you'll excuse me Emily, I'm going to sort everything out for you. We'll keep you updated as much as we can. Feel better soon."
"Thank you, Detectives!" She called out in response as they walked up the stairs and into the bloody house Spencer dreaded entering.