That Call

The ring simply annoyed him at first. It came at an inconvenient time, as it usually did, while he was frying some onions and chopping other vegetables at the same time, keeping the potatoes from boiling over and getting mildly irritated with some guy on the radio rambling on about the pros and cons of gun control. He briefly debated ignoring it and calling back later, but the ring was persistent, distracting him from his tasks, kicking him into his old habit of constant availability. He glanced at the display. An unfamiliar number, a local landline. It better not be that cable guy again, who inexplicably kept calling his cell instead of the house phone. He turned down the stove, removed the frying pan from the heat and switched off the radio.

"Hello?"

"Hey, El." The familiar voice hit him completely off-guard.

"Fin?!" He couldn't recall ever receiving a call from him. Ever, except for work. They hadn't exactly been close. It had been what, two years now? "Wow...how are you?"

"Uh, all right. Listen, is now a good time to talk?" His voice sounded odd, somehow off. Something was very wrong about this. No polite return question?

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're not driving or anything?" This wasn't right.

"No. Why?"

"I got some bad news."

Oh no. Oh no, this couldn't be it, the phone call he had dreaded his entire working career. It just couldn't be. Not now. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not meant to say anything, but I didn't want you findin' out from the news."

"Fin, just tell me! You- what happened?" Who is it? Please, God, don't let anyone be dead. They didn't get shot. Don't let it be her. Fin had never been one to beat around the bush. So it was serious.

A pause. "It's Liv."

He sank into a kitchen chair. All the air had just been knocked out of his lungs. This isn't real. His mind was stalling. It's one of those nightmares again. Go on, wake yourself up. If you don't turn off the stove, you'll burn down the house. "Is she-"

"No! I mean, we don't- we don't know exactly."

What was the last real thing, real for sure? Making lunch? Work? Waking up on the sofa? Maybe I didn't wake up. "What happened? Where is she?"

"We were after this perp - a psychopath, tortured and killed women in different states but always got away. It was bad, a real bad case. We got him, but he got off in court. He walked, fucking bastard! And we...he...got her."

"What do you mean 'got her'?" He felt a horrible chill run down his spine. The radio in the corner was real. The six o'clock news had been real. "Are you talking about the 'man without fingertips'?!"

"Yes. He went after one of his lawyers years ago and he showed an interest when Olivia interviewed him. But not to the point where you'd expect-"

"When did you last see her?" His mind seemed to race, outrunning the fearful beat of his pulse. "She's not in her apartment? Did you locate her cell? Did you-"

"No one's seen her." Fin sounded sad, more resigned than usual, and this scared Elliot more than anything. He was supposed to be out there, knocking down doors. "We're looking, but so far, no clues. Half the NYPD is on it, but no one knows where he took her."

"The 61-year-old victim was found in her apartment, heavily injured and tied to the bed. At this point, the perpetrator had raped and tortured her at gunpoint for 18 hours, apparently using various household objects to 'brand' her." His fingernails were digging into his thighs as he tried to organise his thoughts. "Did you go to her apartment yourself?"

"Yeah." Fin muttered. "It was a mess. There was..." For the first time, his voice faltered. "..blood and signs of struggle. Lots of blood. They must have been there a while. The forensic team are still on it."

The thought of blood, her blood all over the place, made him sick. He couldn't bring himself to ask how much blood it had been. "The neighbours-"

"We've interviewed them, been inside all their-"

"The basement!"

"Searched it."

"The roof!"

"Been there-"

"Listen to me, there's this alcove in her basement. It's not easy to see, behind a bunch of old furniture and other crap." Crap he had once helped her move out of there years ago when she was getting rid of her mother's old belongings. He remembered her face then, hardened, the anger she had shown at her mother for dying, her unwillingness to discuss it with him. "It's large enough for...for..." He couldn't say it.

"We saw it. Nothing. She's not in that building anymore."

"The last victim's place! All the past crime scenes!"

"We've checked there-"

"How did this happen?! How did he- how could she-"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, man."

"There has to be a link!" He realised he was yelling at Fin, unfairly so, but something inside him couldn't help irrationally blaming him. And yes, Fin was probably doing enough of that blaming himself, but they were supposed to look out for each other. He was supposed to have her back. Something had to have gone wrong here. There couldn't be no reason for this. "Look at the file! Perps like that guy, they don't act randomly, it's not his MO, he has a pattern-"

"I know."

"He'd take her somewhere that makes sense to him."

"I know!"

"Look at the record, listen to the interview, there's got to be something-"

"Elliot, stop! Just for one sec, stop, okay! What do you think we've been doing for the past 24 hours? Don't you think we'd look everywhere, and look again, and check every fucking shred of evidence there is?!" Now Fin was the one who was yelling, and he could hear the exhaustion and desperation in his voice. "We're all in this, not just you!"

He couldn't feel sorry for them, not right now. But he had to stop badgering Fin or he'd shut down. He didn't have to be giving him all this information. "I know, I'm not saying- it's been 24 hours, right?"

"Since we found out."

His throat felt constricted, as if something were pressing down on his windpipe. What if she'd been held in her apartment at first, and no one had noticed? What if she'd been in there, suffering, for days? "How long since you last saw her?"

"She had a couple days off after Tuesday. But Cassidy came by on Wednesday and-"

"Cassidy? Brian Cassidy?" He couldn't process the information.

"Yeah. She's been seeing him. Been a few months now, I think."

Been seeing him. His brain still couldn't seem to put together the words. He realised he hadn't actually spoken to Olivia in months. Not one phone call from him since Christmas. And now Cassidy...but it hardly mattered, not right now. Why hadn't he called her? What had been the last thing she'd said to him? He couldn't remember. "What exactly..." The toughest question. "What did you find?"

Fin hesitated again. "Like I said. When Rollins- when me and my partner went there, she wasn't there, but the place was turned upside down." He could tell Fin was sparing him the details. Which meant it had to have been brutal.

"I have to get in." Cold sweat was running down the back of his shirt.

"No! There's no way they'd let you."

"Like I care!"

"Seriously, there's no point, it'd just...it's not pretty. There's nothin' to see."

"A pair of fresh eyes can't-"

"Listen to me, there's no point keeping forensics from their work and starting trouble. We're not getting information that way. Do you want to cut us off?"

"Of course not." This was frustrating. He wanted to run out and search for her, to do things. But he had to see the last place where she'd been, the last objects she had touched, the last traces of her... Fin was right, though, they would never let him. But he would go anyway, once the forensic team was done and the crime scene was closed off. What had been his last words to her? "Who's in charge of the investigation?"

"Captain Jennings down at 53rd. Officially, we're not on the case, but Cragen doesn't care."

"Inofficially?"

"Lieutenant Gonzalez is feeding information to Amar- to one of us. We're all looking. Already located the perp's prior connections. My partner headed over to Boston today to talk to an ex again."

"How can I help?" He tried not to sound too anxious, too eager. Fin had to believe in his ability to control himself, or he would never let him near the case. He couldn't sit around at home and wait. His head was still spinning. Wet smoke was beginning to fill up the kitchen. The potatoes had boiled over. If you don't turn off the stove, you'll burn down the house. He got up and turned all the knobs to zero, removing the pot from heat. Somehow, it seemed important to hold on to reality. One step at a time.

"You can't do much, but...you're not in the force anymore, so I don't know."

"What do you need me to do?" Anything, no matter what would be asked of him, he would do it without a second thought. He would jump. He would bring her back. If I keep my end of this deal, she'll be okay. If I do whatever is asked of me, everything will be fine. Foolish trades with God, which had never worked before, ways of clinging to the illusion that he could stave off the worst. Bargains he'd never kept before. If Kathy comes back to me, I'll never disappoint her again; I'll work less. If Kathy and the baby make it, I'll never neglect her again. If Kathleen gets through this, I'll do whatever it takes to get her back on track.

"The problem is, we got no leads. None of the old locations checked out and the cars are being searched." There it was again, this note of defeat.

"Can you get me a copy of her interview with that bastard?"

Fin hesitated. "I don't know, man, I don't think that's a-"

"Please..." He couldn't think of a good rationale for it.

"I'll get it. But we've listened to it a dozen times, there's nothing...I guess you never know."

"We'll find her."

"El, I-"

"We'll find her alive!"

"Yeah." A moment's silence passed, the unthinkable alternative lingering between them. It was as if thinking the unthinkable made it more likely to happen. If it became thinkable, it became possible. It was safer, then, to keep it in the realm of unknown possible outcomes.

Fin cleared his throat. "Look, I'm sorry, but I gotta get back to- I'll call you when I get the file."

"Call me if there's news?"

"Yeah."

"Any news, okay, even if it's just- even if it doesn't seem to matter."

"I'll keep you posted. I just didn't want you to find out from the news."

"Thank you." He hung up, standing frozen for a moment, unable to do anything. "Talk to you soon." That was the last thing she had said.