A/N and Warnings: Co-written with I. Adler. Spoilers for L&O Season 18. This is a crossover with Without a Trace. All L&O and WaT characters are property of their respective owners. Ileana Rubirosa belongs to me. Robert Enslow belongs to I. Adler.. Do not use without permission. For more information on Enslow, see the Livejournal profile for robert(dash)enslow. For more information on Ileana, see the Livejournal profile for ileana(dash)in(dash)ny. PLEASE read and review!! Thank you!!
Connie Rubirosa checked her watch again, nervously tapping her fingers on the table at Florentino, the Italian restaurant where she was supposed to be meeting her younger sister, Ileana, for dinner. Except of course that it was forty-five minutes since Ileana was supposed to have arrived and Connie hadn't heard a word from her. She'd called her cell phone numerous times, only to be directed to voice mail.
Sighing, Connie dialed the number to Ileana's office at the Ledger.
"Ledger, this is Margot," the woman on the other end answered.
"Margot, it's Connie Rubirosa," Connie said, "Is my sister there by chance?"
"No—she didn't come in today," Margot said. "We called her place a few times and her cell…we figured she was too sick to answer."
Connie frowned. "She's never too sick to answer her cell phone…thanks, Margot." Hanging up, she thought a moment longer. Maybe Ileana went somewhere with her boyfriend, Robert Enslow. They were always taking spontaneous, random trips for no reason. Or maybe he at least knew where she was. Taking out her new Blackberry, Connie dialed Enslow's number.
"Hello," Rob answered, his gravelly tone deadpan, "Your mom's not here." He enjoyed teasing Connie, knowing he could usually get a rise out of her without much effort. It was her rejection of him, actually, that had led to him meeting Ileana, and while he much preferred Ileana over Connie, there was still an occasional bitter edge to his interactions with Connie.
"Cute," Connie rolled her eyes, used to it by now. "Is my sister there by chance?"
"No," Rob said.
Connie sighed. "When was the last time you saw her?"
"This morning?" Rob wondered what was going on. "When she left my place."
"We were supposed to have dinner," Connie explained. "She didn't show, so I called her—cell and apartment—and then I called her work line but Margot said she never showed this morning." The worry was evident in Connie's voice.
"What?" Rob's voice was slightly mocking. "She must be cheating on me…"
"No, she's not, you ass," Connie said. "Look, I'm gonna go by her place…maybe she's sick."
"She's never too sick for her cell phone," Rob said.
"I know!" Connie's voice went up. "I'm really worried, in case you couldn't tell through your haze of sarcasm."
"Yeah, well, I'll get the car and come with you," Rob said.
It was helpful to have friends with chauffeured cars, Connie thought. Aloud, she said, "I'm at Florentino, near Hogan Place."
"Alright, I'll pick you up," Rob said, hanging up.
Fifteen minutes later, Connie got into the black Lincoln Town Car, which was idling in front of the restaurant.
"Hi," Rob greeted her by raising a glass of gin.
Connie smirked. "Evening, Rob."
Just as the car began to pull out into traffic, Connie's Blackberry went off. "Rubirosa," she answered.
On the other end of the line, Michael Cutter spoke. "Did I just see you getting into a car with Robert Enslow?"
Connie blinked. "Yes, stalker." She couldn't help but smirk, imagining the look on Cutter's face as he presumably stood near Hogan Place and saw his ADA getting into a vehicle with a notorious defense attorney.
"You're not jumping ship on me are you?" Cutter asked.
Connie snorted. "No. He's dating my sister…which I'm fairly certain I have mentioned some time in the last six months."
Cutter muttered something about 'exculpatory evidence' and hung up.
"What was that?" Rob wanted to know.
"Cutter asking if he'd just seen me getting into a car with a notorious defense attorney," Connie laughed.
Rob smirked. "So what?" Taking his own phone (not a PDA like the ones the DA's office loved so much these days), Rob looked up Cutter's number and dialed.
Still in thought over the fact that Connie was in a car with the devil, Cutter picked up without looking at the number. "What?"
"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," Rob was clearly enjoying himself. "God sees what you do under the covers. With your tiny, TINY bat."
"You have too much time on your hands, Enslow," Cutter said. He hung up his PDA, not phased.
Rob hung up his own phone and glanced at Connie, who was just shaking her head, amused.
"He's not so bad, you know," she said. And then, quickly, "I mean in general—not the bat thing…"
"…you're dating him, aren't you?" Rob eyed her with suspicion.
"No," her answer was quick, void of any tone that might give away what she really thought.
As they got out at Ileana's apartment building, Rob smirked, "Well, good. It would be awkward, what with him hating to lose and me making him look like a loser."
"In your opinion, anyway," Connie said in her colleague's defense.
"And the jury's—which is what counts," Rob added.
Connie only rolled her eyes. "You're not the only one who can persuade a jury. And I'm on the same team as he is—you calling me a loser too?"
"Hey, you beat me, I'll change my mind," Rob said as they walked up the stairs.
"We'll see when the opportunity presents itself," Connie said.
Rob gave a slight nod. "Yeah, I guess we will."
As they approached Apartment 203, Ileana's apartment, Connie hastened her step, suddenly remembering why they were there. Her hand was poised to knock on the door when she stopped cold, realizing it was already ajar.
"Ileana??" Connie's voice was high with alarm as she pushed open the door.
Realizing the scenario, Rob stopped before the threshold of the door. "Call the police."
Not listening, Connie continued through the apartment. Her sister wasn't exactly neat so it was hard to tell if anything was missing or out of place. "Ileana??" She repeated her sister's name.
Meanwhile, Rob was already on the line with the NYPD, put on hold.
"You called the cops?" Connie came back into the living room, trying to remain calm, turning the 'lawyer mode' back on. "Did you mention who she was? Who I am??"
"I'm telling them who I am!" Rob said impatiently, worried but not showing it.
Connie raised a brow and then thought a moment, remembering a contact she'd made at the FBI a couple years back. It couldn't hurt…She used her Blackberry to send an email to Agent Danny Taylor.
"Yeah, put me through to the Major Case apes," Rob was barking, no tact evident anywhere.
"I really should probably handle this, Rob," Connie said when it was apparent that Rob had been put on hold again.
"Why?" he wanted to know.
"Because I'm an ADA," she said like 'duh'. "And if this is—if this is—something criminal—plus, law enforcement personnel like me. They don't like you." She caught her breath. "Besides, it's not Major Case."
"It's not?" Rob asked.
"No. It's the FBI's Missing Person's bureau," she said as her cell phone went off. "Who just called me back."
