She has spent most of her adult life, protecting, and serving. It's her job. She's spent most of her life protecting him. She sits at her desk, in silence. It's a rainy, grey, Saturday afternoon, and she's at work, as per usual. She has a case she is working on, but her mind is elsewhere. The knot in the pit of her stomach, reminds her of the guilt that she feels. She tries to focus on her work, but she can't. The life of her victim, reminds her of her own. They are both full of secrets, half-truths, and some flat out lies.
Earlier that morning-
She enters the corner office, of the CFO, of a large company. She sees the puddle of blood, before she sees the body. She takes a step, closer to the desk, and she sees her. A victim who has been sexually assaulted, and brutally murdered. She looks over at Nick.
"It's Saturday, they're not open, are they?"
"She, and the CEO were supposed to have a meeting this morning, for a couple of hours, about budget cuts. The CEO is Todd Holland. He called here this morning, to tell her he would be late. She didn't answer. When he got here, he went straight to his office."
"He's the one who found her?"
"He checked his voicemail, shortly after he arrived. It was a girl, who identified herself as Macy. She said she was looking for the victim, Stacey Riley, that she was her daughter. He came in here, and found her."
"I don't see any pictures of a kid," Olivia comments.
"Nobody here, knew she had a daughter."
"Does she?"
"I guess we'll find out."
The phone, on the desk rings. Olivia looks at Nick, he shrugs. She answers it, putting it on speaker phone.
"Hello, mom?" the voice on the other end answers.
"No, this is detective Benson."
"Detective?"
"Who is this?"
"This is Macy. I am looking for my mom."
"Who is your mom?"
"Stacey Riley. She never came home last night."
"Macy, how old are you?"
"Twelve. Why are you there? Did something happen to her?"
"Macy, are you home alone?"
"Yes."
"Ok, sweetie, I want you to listen to me. Stay there. I will be there shortly. Do not open the door for anyone but me. My name is detective Benson. When I come to the door, I will identify myself, and I will show you my badge, ok?"
"Ok."
"Did you hear me?" her partner questions.
She looks up at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't."
"You seem distracted today."
"I just keep thinking about that little girl."
"It's sad. I mean, how do you have a child, and never tell any of your co-workers? She worked at that company, for eleven years. Why wouldn't she mention it?"
"I don't know. Maybe she thought it was the only way she could protect her daughter," Olivia suggests.
He shakes his head, "I could understand if she put up a baby picture of her, instead of a recent one, but not to have a single picture of her, in her office. She never mentioned her, to a single co-worker. Her CEO said that most weeks she worked sixty hours."
"Look, Nick, let's not judge her. Maybe she had a good reason."
"Like what?"
"We still have to track down the father," she reminds him.
"John Miller? Yeah, that's going to be a real cake-walk. Do we even know if that's his real name."
"The girl was twelve. She's seen her father. She has visitation with him. I am pretty sure she would know his name."
"But her last name is Riley. There is something strange about this story."
"I agree."
He looks at his watch, "But I am starving, so I am going to grab some lunch, while I ponder the twists, and wrong turns of our victim's life. You coming with me?"
"No."
"You going to stay here?"
"I am leaving. I'm meeting someone for lunch," she reveals.
"Oh. Ok. I'll see you back here, in a little while."
When she enters the coffee shop, he's already there. He's sitting at a table, near a window, at the back of the coffee shop. She makes a beeline for him, avoiding the long lines. She takes a seat, across the table from him. He flashes her a million dollar smile. She finds the cup of warm liquid, sitting at the table, in front of her. There is also a salad, from one of her favorite places.
She looks across the table. He's dressed very casually. He's wearing a form-fitting grey t-shirt, and a pair of athletic pants. He looks at her, with big, bright eyes. He sips his drink. She shakes her head.
"How many times have I told you that stuff is going to kill you?" she looks at the silver can.
"It's just an energy drink."
"It is a heart attack in a can."
"Are you here to lecture me, or to spend time with me?" he calls her out.
"Not to lecture you," she concedes.
"I was surprised when you called me this morning."
"You were still asleep, weren't you?"
"No I was getting ready to head to the gym."
"Did you work out?"
He grins, revealing his dimples, "You know that I did. I am surprised you could take time out of your busy day, for me."
"It looks like this is going to be a pretty rough case," she admits.
"They always are, aren't they?"
"Yes," she nods.
"So, basically, you're feeling guilty, because you have barely seen me, in days?"
"Yes," she confirms.
"That's nothing new, is it?"
"No," she shakes her head.
"I brought you lunch."
"You're the sweetest, most thoughtful guy I know."
"You have to say that," he reminds her.
"I wouldn't say it, if it wasn't true."
"I know that."
She looks at her watch, "I should probably get back."
"Ok."
"Love you," she reminds him.