Yes, this is a crossover.
I don't want to upset any hardcore Criminal Minds fans which may happen seeing as I'm going to take some liberties with that universe. For the purpose of this fic any event past season five of Criminal Minds didn't happen. So, Emily Prentiss is still part of the team. That's really the big thing.
What else? *thinks* That's it really. I hope you enjoy!
Sharing Boundaries
"Captain Sharon Raydor, Major Crimes," she announced as she quickly approached the latest crime scene.
The officer in charge of the log book nodded and quickly added her name and arrival time to the ever-growing list. As she neared her, she noticed that the officer had straightened a bit upon seeing her. The turned-down lips and lack of any sort of greeting was enough for anyone to see that she wasn't pleased with the rather mundane assignment. Having been in her position before, Sharon made an effort to smile at the officer as she put on the blue booties, waiting in a box by the door. She pulled on a pair of gloves, as well. If this crime scene was like the others, however, she doubted she'd need either the gloves or booties.
From the outside, the entire complex looked roach infested. Graffiti covered the walls. There was no upkeep to the grounds. Neither grass nor shrub thrived unattended in the L.A. heat, leaving the entire area looking dried-up and dead. The door she was to open before stepping inside was covered in years of grime, she noted, and a green substance she was sure was mold was collecting in the crevices.
Giving the left glove one last tug before it snapped into place, she opened the door of the small studio apartment. The contrast was startling.
The inside was a stark divergence from what one expected. It was immaculate considering the state of disrepair of the entire structure. Sharon barely contained a frustrated sigh as she stood only a few steps past the door. The beige carpet was so worn down in places that one could almost see the floor underneath. Clearly, it had been recently vacuumed and steam cleaned-probably for the first time in twenty years. The walls and ceiling were scrubbed to the point where some of the paint had come off, exposing the white primer beneath the pale green paint. The table looked freshly polished, as did the small TV and folding table it rested on precariously. The kitchen area, from what she could see, looked just as pristine, lacking a single dirty dish-unlike her own place. She felt a bit guilty, hoping that Rusty would do the dishes she'd left in the sink last night and this morning.
Undoubtedly, the bathroom in this place was more sanitary than a hospital's.
The small bed tucked into a corner was made with military style perfection. The sheets appeared ironed down without a single crease, but it was missing a blanket or comforter. Just like the others, she noted with an internal sigh.
"Ah, Captain, good morning." Provenza had finally noticed her presence and moved towards her from the kitchen area. His smile didn't cover his sardonicism. "Would you care for a tour?"
"Good morning. Anything different from the others?"
"Not really," Provenza answered with a sigh and shake of his head. "Marissa Josa, age 28. She didn't show up to work on Friday, so her co-workers called her sister, who doesn't have a key, but stopped by Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night after she got off work. She received no answer when she knocked on the door. Early this morning, when her sister didn't show up to work again, she called the police to report her missing. She waited for the police to arrive, and stayed with them while they did a public safety check. Police officers asked the landlord to open the door, and-thanks to the notice you had Amy put out-they immediately called us after clearing the apartment."
"Did the victim have a car?"
"What victim?" Provenza mumbled as he looked over his notes. "You have to have a body to have a victim." He found what he was looking for in his notes. "According to her sister, yes, a red '98 Toyota Camry. As I'm sure you've already deduced, it's nowhere to be found. We have an APB out on it, for all the good it will do."
Sharon was silent as she walked over the scene herself, hoping she'd see something her team had missed, as unlikely as that was.
"As you can see, it's been cleaned better than what most housekeeping services claim to do," Provenza continued as he followed her around the small living space. "We may, however, have caught a break this time."
She immediately turned to face him, feeling both eager at the prospect of a break and trepidation at the lack of excitement in the Lieutenant's tone.
"The trash in this neighborhood isn't picked up until tomorrow," Provenza informed her.
"So there's a chance he dumped something here at the complex."
Provenza nodded. "Given the care this guy puts into covering his tracks, though, I'm not placing any bets on that."
"This is the fastest we've found one of the crime scenes, though, Lieutenant. It's a possibility he isn't as careful as we think."
"How do we really know this is the crime scene?" Flynn commented, stepping out of the bathroom and heading towards them, followed by someone from SID who quickly made his way out the door. "Just because the place is clean doesn't mean she didn't just run off."
"Yes, Flynn." Provenza was losing his patience. "There's been a sudden outbreak of women scrubbing their homes then just disappearing without a trace." He turned back to the Captain. "Which is why Amy, Julio, and Mike, along with SID are out dumpster diving in every dumpster within a five mile radius. Buzz went with Mike."
"Maybe we'll get lucky." Andy shrugged.
"Maybe," Sharon agreed. "Has SID finished with the apartment?"
Flynn nodded. "For now, they're coming back with the heated super glue stuff just to make sure there are no prints anywhere. They found what looks like traces of blood in the shower's drain, but if it is blood, there's no telling how it got there or even a precise time it got there or how much—"
"Flynn!" Provenza interrupted. "We get the picture. You don't have to make this any more depressing."
Sharon ignored their bickering. "We should head back to the station and find out as much about—what was her name again?"
"Marissa Josa," Provenza supplied.
She nodded, and repeated the name several times in her head as she picked up where she left off. "Find out as much as we can about Miss Josa while we wait on the results of the dumpster search."
Andy nodded while Provenza bowed his head and gestured extravagantly for her to precede them to the door.
….
Together, they rode up the elevator in silence. There wasn't much to say. Amy had called Provenza with an update while he was riding with Flynn to the PAB. In turn, Provenza had managed to fill her in before she'd taken two steps away from her car. They hadn't found anything yet, but still had several more dumpsters to go through.
The elevator came to a gentle stop, and her heels clicked with more determination and optimism that she felt as she walked towards the Murder Room followed closely by Flynn and Provenza.
"I'm going to stop in the break room for a cup of coffee, Lieutenants. I'll join you in a moment."
Provenza gave a grunt of acknowledgement as their paths separated. Before she turned the corner towards the break room, she realized how badly she needed coffee and maybe a visit with a psychologist if she was able to distinguish between Provenza's communicative grunts.
Or at least a vacation.
One she could go on by herself once she'd made sure her children were all safely hidden away somewhere. Or she'd have to wait until they caught Stroh.
The break room smelled like fresh coffee. She felt the corners of her mouth pull upwards slightly and she mentally thanked the angelic person who'd recently put on a new pot as she inhaled the aroma. Her steps felt just a bit lighter as she moved to retrieve her mug from the overhead cupboard and began the sacred ritual of preparing the perfect cup of break room coffee. Her sugar free hazelnut creamer was still half full in the refrigerator, and didn't go out of date for another week. She filled a quarter of her mug with the creamer before returning it to the refrigerator. Then she slowly poured the coffee watching the patterns and color changes that occurred as coffee met creamer. She replaced the pot and brought the warm mug to her lips inhaling the scent. Her smile grew only fractionally, and she lowered the mug before walking the short distance back to the Murder Room.
She allowed herself a bit of optimism as she entered the Murder Room. Finding the crime scene before trash was collected could be the perfect break in their case. It was entirely possible they'd find all the evidence they needed and could wrap this case up with a bow before the end of the week. Then she could get back to looking for Stroh and planning her vacation. Maybe she'd take a cruise. That way she could bring her children with her. She'd get the three of them their own room they could share. A perfect opportunity for them to bond on the other side of the ship from her own private room. She could still do things with them every day, but would have her own place to unwind. And who'd ever heard of serial killers on a cruise? Yes. She needed a cruise. To Alaska.
Her thoughts of watching Beluga Whales frolic amongst the icebergs in the cold Alaskan waters while sipping on hot chocolate were abruptly ended before she fully entered the Murder Room. Both Provenza and Flynn were angry about something judging by the shouting.
Oh.
Joy.
Stepping completely into the Murder Room, she could see what had caused their anger. Or rather whom. A group of what could only be FBI agents stood between her office and Provenza's desk while Provenza and Flynn were expressing their displeasure at Taylor.
She wondered if they'd notice her absence if she went to help the others sift through garbage. She took a long sip of coffee.
She had barely swallowed when Taylor noticed her.
"Ah, Captain Raydor," Taylor announced. He moved away from Flynn and Provenza who glared openly at the FBI agents. "I'd like you to meet the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI." He gestured towards the group of FBI agents. "I asked them here to lend a hand with these murders you've been working on."
"They're not murders!" Flynn angrily voiced. "We don't have any bodies or any evidence of murder. And you could have at least warned us you were calling them!"
Taylor's already forced smile became tighter, but he ignored the Lieutenant. "I trust you'll make good use of their services, Captain."
"Of course, Chief," she agreed. What else could she do? Waste a cup of coffee by throwing it in his face, effectively terminating her career when she still had Rusty's college tuition to pay for?
Taylor stepped around her just as she stepped towards the FBI agents who-–to their credit-looked unfazed by the show Provenza, Flynn, and Taylor had put on for them. She stretched out a hand to the one she assumed to be in charge. "Captain Sharon Raydor."
"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner." He returned the handshake before gesturing to each member of his team. "These are Special Agents David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid."
She shook hands with each of them in turn.
"Captain," Agent Hotchner spoke once introductions were taken care of, "I can assure you, we're not here to take credit away from your team. We're only here help. If you can provide us with a room, a whiteboard, and access to all your case files, we'll stay out of the way of your investigation."
She ignored Provenza's disbelieving snort.
"I'm not worried about who gets credit, Agent Hotchner. I'm concerned with finding out what happened to these young women, and, if possible, finding them alive."
"Of course," he replied. "We're here to help you with that."
"Excellent," she smiled. "Then you'll also understand why I can't provide you and your team with a separate room."
He blinked. It was the only sign she'd caught him by surprise, unlike the doctor and Agent Morgan who exchanged confused looks, and Agent Rossi who tried unsuccessfully to hide a lopsided smile.
"I'm sorry," he apologized without sincerity, "I'm not sure I understand."
That much was clear. "Agent Hotchner, there are four women out there who may be alive and in need of help. While I welcome your assistance in this task, I expect you to cooperate fully with our investigation and share your insights. I think it will be much easier to do that if you're in the same room as we are. Now, if you're ready, the Lieutenants and I will fill you in."
She turned away and walked towards the Murder Board. As she neared Tao's desk, she pointed to the empty one adjacent to his. "You're more than welcome to use this desk and computer to work on any necessary paperwork." She directed her attention to Provenza. "Have there been any more updates?"
"No, Captain." It was oddly soothing not to be able to interpret the Lieutenant's smile. What had he expected her to do, really? Throw them in the never used hard interview room, and spy on them through the two way mirror? "I checked with Tao and Sanchez, but they said the same thing as Sykes: nothing, yet, but they're still looking. I also let them know the FBI would be joining us."
"Lieutenant Flynn?" She redirected her attention once again, watching as their FBI guests – led by Agent Prentiss and Agent Rossi, who was no longer trying to hide his smile, finally began moving closer to the desk she'd indicated. "Anything on Marisa Josa?"
"She's married, but no children." Flynn moved from his desk closer to Provenza's. "Like the other three, she filed charges a few weeks ago against her husband for domestic violence. Unlike the other three, this S.O.B. has been in jail since the night of his arrest. I'm having County bring him over anyway for questioning, just to make sure he doesn't know anything. He should be here in a couple of hours."
She nodded. "Good. Thank you." She moved to the left of the board where the details from the first case were listed, and turned to the FBI agents. "We'll go over everything starting from what we believe to be the first missing woman."
"Believe to be?" Agent Prentiss asked, her mouth forming a small circle as her eyebrows moved towards each other in confusion.
Sharon nodded, looking over the board. "Yes, it is possible that there are others, but these are the only cases in the last five years that fit the M.O."
"Why are you only looking five years back?" Agent Morgan spoke up this time.
"Because nothing before January fits," Provenza informed them gruffly. "And if you'll shut up long enough for us to fill you in, you may find some of your questions answered before you even have to ask."
She gave Provenza a warning look. There were four women missing and possibly dead. Finding them was far more important than any grievances they had with Taylor's decision to call the FBI without even giving them some warning.
Provenza threw his hands up in the air before pulling out his crossword puzzle.
Sharon turned her attention back to the FBI agents and pointed to a picture of a redhead with shoulder length hair and green eyes. "Karla Brown. Age 32. She was a librarian. She was last seen by co-workers on Friday, January 30th. She didn't show up to work the following Monday and didn't call in. On Tuesday when she didn't show up again, her coworkers called the police to ask for a safety check. The police noticed that her car was missing, but items such as her wallet, ID, and passport were still in her apartment."
The FBI agents nodded as they listened. A few of them jotted down notes in their notebooks as Sharon continued speaking.
"Considering it was January, the responding officers noted that the A/C was on and turned on high. They spoke to the neighbors, as per protocol, and found that a couple had seen someone removing some garbage bags from the home and placing them in Karla's car."
One of the agents moved to speak, but was quickly quieted by Sharon's hand raising to stop the interruption from occurring.
"They couldn't remember at all what he looked like," Sharon said with a disappointed sigh. "One said he assumed it was her boyfriend. Due to the suspicious nature of the disappearance, her apartment was dusted for prints. There were none. Not even Karla's. Also, Karla's hair and toothbrushes were missing. There were no cleaning items in the apartment either. Her boyfriend had an alibi for some of the weekend, but not the whole time. A search of his home turned up nothing."
Flynn picked up with the description of the next woman. "Drew Pranty, 29. She worked as an actress. Mostly small theater work. She lived with her boyfriend until he broke her wrist. She changed the locks on the door afterwards." Flynn paused for a moment as he looked at the picture of the woman with brown hair and matching eyes. "Smart lady. She was last seen by friends on Thursday March 19th. When her mother-who lives in Kansas- couldn't reach her by phone for several days she called the police. Everything was just like Karla's apartment. Pristine. No finger prints, no cleaning items, no toothbrush, no hairbrush. The air was on high. Her car was missing. Missing Persons looked at the boyfriend, of course, his alibi was incomplete, but he volunteered to have his place searched. Or rather his parents place because that's where he's been living since he broke Drew's wrist. "
Sharon caught two of the FBI agents whisper briefly between themselves before they focused once more on her team. She had hoped her earlier comment about working together would prevent her from having to speak with Agent Hotchner about his team keeping prudent information to themselves. She put the thought aside. Over reacting at this stage of their "relationship" wouldn't help matters. She'd be sure to keep an eye out however.
"Our 3rd victim," Provenza picked up, setting his crossword down, but not standing. "Gabriella Lareens, 31. Pre-school teacher. We even spoke to all the students in her class looking for any sort of clue. She was last seen on Friday April 17th. Her brother came by her apartment on Sunday to see how she was doing. He had a key to her apartment and let himself in. He didn't stay long just took a quick look around. He noticed it was cold and adjusted the A/C, but he didn't notice anything unusual other than the A/C. Monday evening, when he still couldn't get in touch with her, he called the police. It was just like the other two. Her husband had been staying in a hotel since she'd had him arrested for abuse. Thanks to the hotel cameras we can account for his whereabouts from the time Gabriella was last seen and when her brother came to check on her Sunday. Again, a neighbor saw someone removing things from her apartment, but didn't take much notice. The neighbor assumed it was Gabriella's husband."
Sharon continued on, "Missing Persons handled all three of these cases first. After examining Gabriella's apartment, however, the detective in charge of her case recognized a pattern and Chief Taylor assigned us the case. Today's victim and Gabriella's apartments are the only two we've been able to examine ourselves. The other two have sense been turned over to the families. Blood has been found in the drains of both bathtubs. We're waiting on the results from today, but the blood in Gabriella's drain is suspected to be hers. We have nothing of hers to compare it to, but her brother volunteered his DNA for comparison."
"I'd like for us to take a look at today's crime scene." Hotchner stated.
She nodded, "Of course, however, SID is currently going over every inch of it using Super Glue Finger Print Fuming. You may want to give them a few hours to finish."
"You know, it's interesting," Doctor Reid spoke up.
"Kid, don't," Agent Morgan whispered.
Doctor Reid continued on as though oblivious to his partner, "Superglue was developed in the 1950s by researchers trying to produce an acrylic polymer for the aircraft industry. Commercial usage as an adhesive system for non-porous surfaces with a main advantage of have a very short cure time began soon after. In the 1970's it was first reported as a possible method for the development of latent fingers prints. Both the United Kingdom and Japan independently reported using it for that purpose at about the same time."
Everyone was completely silent for a moment.
Sharon took a sip of her coffee.
Provenza was the first to speak. "Ye Gods…it's another Tao."
So? Thoughts? Love it? Hate it? Tell me everything. Don't hold back.