Author's note

This is my first Cold Case fanfic that I've written, and I tried my best to focus on the case and the flashbacks about the characters. The story takes place in the late 80's, revolving around a girl that walks to the beat of her own drum. I'd really appreciate some feedback and thoughts about the story. Enjoy!

-scribblesofdreams

September 14, 1988

(Music: "Who's That Girl" - Madonna)

The lunch room was crowded with kids from every grade. One side of the cafeteria was split between the underclassmen students. The freshmen sat along the walls, occupying a few tables the upperclassmen granted them to sit at. Sophomores and juniors mingled with each other freely, with the occasional cocky junior stepping over to the freshman tables to intimidate and humiliate the lucky few that day.

On the other half of the cafeteria sat the seniors, the unwritten rulers of East Creek High School. The entire senior class had half the cafeteria to themselves, and everyone understood that none of the underclassmen crossed onto their territory. Although each class was separated and divided among themselves, they were all very much alike: they dressed the same, listened to the same music, shopped at the same stores, and did the same things as everyone else. They were all mindless followers and no one went against the crowd.

A few minutes after the lunch period began, in walked what seemed like a monster, by the way all the students looked at her. The world seemed to stop as all eyes were drawn to the catastrophe strutting toward the center of the cafeteria, the room was silent. She found an open seat on one of the seniors' tables and sat down, pulling out a notebook and pencil from her bag.

A blond cheerleader, sitting several tables over from the girl everyone was transfixed on, stared at the girl. "What the hell is that supposed to be?" she asked out loud.

"That's the new girl, a senior." A small red-headed girl sitting next to the blond leaned over. "I saw her this morning. I almost threw up."

"I think I just did," a muscular boy, wearing a letterman jacket joked, making the other seniors sitting around him burst into laughter.

The girl opened her notebook and flipped to a blank page. She lifted her head up and looked around the room, only to find every pair of eyes staring at her. A few beats passed before she picked up her pencil and began drawing on the empty page.

Moments later, life returned to the students in the cafeteria and the noise picked up again. The few seniors that were sharing the table with the new girl gathered their things and left. The girl briefly lifted her eyes to see them walk away, then went back to focus on her sketch.

Huddled in the middle of a group of seniors was both the jock and cheerleader that offered their commentary minutes before. The blond girl stood up, smoothed out her cheerleader's uniform and started to walk over to the new girl, with the brown haired jock following close behind.

"Shelly! Vance!" A boy that was sitting at the same table as the two sat up in his chair and called out to them. "What are they gonna do?" he asked out loud, not expecting an answer. He figured he'd get the answer in a few moments.

The blond hair flowing down Shelly's back bounced as she walked. With a flip of her hair and a smile, she looked down to the girl. "Hi there."

The girl slowly looked up from her notebook. "Hi."

"I'm Shelly Linderman. And on behalf of the senior class, I just wanted to welcome you to East Creek High," she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I know being the new student can be difficult, especially when you're so...different, from everyone else."

Picking up on the blond's attitude, the girl sitting down decided to play along with the game. "Different? Different from who?" she asked, as if she truly didn't know.

Vance strutted up behind Shelly, his hands shoved in his jacket's pockets, and stared down at the girl. "From all of us," he said.

A blank stare formed across the girls' face, irritating the jock.

"You don't dress like us," he told her.

Gasping, the girl dropped her jaw. "Really?" she asked curiously. She stood up and began inspecting her clothes.

She wore green Chuck Taylors and ripped blue jeans. She sported an Aerosmith 1986 tour t-shirt that was cut at the neckline over a red tank top. Hanging around her hips was a thick green belt. Colorful rubber bracelets lined her left arm, with a white and purple beaded bracelet closest to her fingers. On the other arm she wore a thick black bracelet with blue polka dots and a large jeweled ring on her finger. Draped around her neck were three colorful beaded necklaces. Large circular yellow earrings hung from her ears, and her hair was gathered into a ponytail to the right side of her head, with bangs swept across the right side of her forehead. Her skin was the color mocha, making her stand out more so, in addition to the clothes she wore.

"I thought this was what all the kids were wearing," she joked, grinning at the welcoming committee still standing in front of her.

Vance glared at her. "Well you were wrong."

"Look." Shelly clasped her hands together and put on a fake smile. "I know you're new and you don't really know what it's like here at East Creek. So I'm just letting you know that if you wanna fit in at this school, you're gonna have to change the way you dress."

"And probably the music I listen to," she said, stroking her chin. "Because I doubt I listen to the same bands that preps listen to."

Shelly and Vance exchanged looks, both getting a sense that they were now being the ones made fun of. Shelly scoffed. "Preps?"

"And I'd probably have to start shopping at places like The Gap. And caking my face with makeup, too, right?" she asked. "Just to fit in with you guys."

Frustrated and annoyed, Shelly crossed her arms across her chest.

"You know what? I don't really feel up to it," she said, shaking her head. "I think I'll just stick to being different." She sat back down in her seat.

A wave of laughter came from behind them. Shelly looked back to see her friends laughing at her defeat by the new girl.

"Sorry," the girl continued. "But thanks for the offer," she said, smiling.

Shelly stared at the girl for several moments, narrowing her eyes as each second passed. Leaning over, she put her hands on the table. "You'll be sorry you did this," she warned. The girl continued to smile at Shelly until Shelly abruptly turned around and walked back to her table.

Vance laughed and shook his head. "Freak," he said, then turned and walked back to his friends.

She watched them go back to their table, their friends slowly quieting down their laughter. She chuckled once to herself then went back to her drawing.

December 6, 1988

Near the banks of the creek lay a motionless body, female. The girl was dressed in a denim jacket over a light blue shirt, along with a black skirt and black cut leggings that were stained with dirt and grass. The wind blew, brushing her black hair off her face, exposing her lifeless face.

A middle-aged man held a photo of the body by the creek. Red bruises lined the neck of the girl in the picture. He slipped the photo into a file and placed the file in a cardboard box, pushing it onto the metal shelf. With a heavy sigh, he dismounted the step ladder and walked down the aisle.

July, 2008

Leaning against the table in a briefing room, Lieutenant John Stillman just finished overlooking the case files of a 1988 murder. He crossed his hands across his chest and stared aimlessly at his feet. He could hear someone handling papers on the table but all the sounds were muffled. It had been a long weekend only to have a homicide case waiting for him first thing on Monday morning.

Will Jeffries, senior agent, saw the rest of their team heading towards the briefing room. He gathered a few papers together and stood up. Noticing that Stillman was frozen at the edge of the table, he took a few steps in Stillman's direction.

"Boss?" Jeffries called, rounding the table and stepping in front of Stillman. "Boss?"

Stillman snapped back into reality and caught his breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." He stood up and turned around just in time to see his team walk into the room.

Leading the herd was Agent Lilly Rush, carrying a cup of coffee in her left hand. Her blond hair was tied tightly into a ponytail, her bangs barely touching her eyelashes. Right behind Lilly walked in Kat Miller, both hands in her pants pockets. She exhaled deeply, preparing herself for another day's work. Following close behind were Agents Scotty Valens and Nick Vera, both looking very unenthusiastic to start the morning off with a murder case.

"Hey, boss," Rush smiled, placing her cup of coffee on the table and removing her jacket. She draped it on the back of one of the chairs as the rest of the crew got settled. "Have a good weekend?"

Stillman sighed heavily. "Define 'good'," he replied.

Rush winced, pulling her chair out and taking her seat. "Sorry, boss," she said, offering him a comforting smile.

"So what've we got today?" Valens asked, sitting down in a chair. Uncontrollably he yawned, flashing his entire team with the insides of his mouth. "Sorry," he apologized, only covering his mouth with his hand after the fact.

Miller shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Obviously manners isn't one of your strong points," she muttered.

"Young female, seventeen years old," Jeffries announced before Valens could shoot a comment back to Miller. He walked around handing out copies of the case file to everyone in the room.

"Grace Serano," Stillman said, sliding a photo of the girl onto the table. "High school senior, attended East Creek High School."

The photograph was of Grace's senior portrait. She dressed in bright colors and layers of clothing. Her smile was soft and pleasant.

Vera nodded, recalling the familiarity of the name of the school. "That's over by Croydon."

"You know that place?" Jeffries asked, handing out the rest of the files to Rush and Miller.

"I used to have a friend that lived over there," he explained. "I'd go over to his house a couple times a month. Nice neighborhood."

Miller held the file in her hands. Quickly, she glanced over the first page of the file, picking up on key phrases and bits of information. "Cause of death?" she asked.

"Well, it says here she died of asphyxiation," Stillman replied, reading off the case file. "There were marks all over her neck." He gestured towards a stack of photographs of Grace's body the police took.

Rush put down her file and took to the photographs. She displayed each in a straight line on the table for the whole team to see. Overlooking the photos she saw the marks on Grace's neck. "She was hanged?"

Miller picked up a photo and shook her head, her black curls swinging back and forth. "No, those aren't rope burns. Or from a wire. More like she was strangled."

Flipping through the pages of the file, Vera looked across the room to the other detectives. "What, no fingerprints were lifted?" he asked, confused. "Unless this person strangled her with their mind," he joked.

Jeffries shook his head. "No, the killer must've been wearing something over his hands. Gloves, maybe?"

Just getting a look at the pictures of Grace's body, Vera began to chuckle. The team looked at him as his laughter continued. Feeling the stares of his team, Vera looked up to meet all of their eyes.

"I was just looking at what she was wearing," he explained. "She was very...bold with her clothing choice." He glanced back down at the photos and grunted, amused.

Miller shook her head and lifted the side of her mouth into a smile. "Well, it was the 80's, remember?"

"Oh man, do I remember," Valens smiled. He thought back to his youth and laughed. "I remember how badly I wanted those parachute pants."

"I was obsessed with that damn rubix cube," Vera admitted, receiving several looks and laughs. "What? That thing was hard to solve," he said defensively.

Stillman couldn't help but smile and joke along with the rest of them, but he quickly regained his composure. "All right, all right. Let's get back to the case." The team returned their focus on the papers and photos in front of them. "Grace just moved to Croydon three months before she was murdered," he told them.

Rush scoffed. "Being murdered a few months after you move to a new town. A very welcoming gesture," she said, shaking her head and sipping her cup of coffee.

"Says here she lived with her mom and brother, Anita and Josh," Jeffries read. "Want us to call them in?" he asked, looking across the table at Stillman.

He nodded. "Yeah, we better talk to them first. Bring them down here as soon as you can."