Cold

by Erin Griffin

Fandom: Cold Case/Ghost Whisperer/Gothika

Pairing: Chloe Sava/Miranda Grey and Melinda Gordon/Lilly Rush eventually.

Rating: R for language, violence, murder, some scariness

Summary: Lilly Rush is given a case of a fifteen year old murder. The victim, Leslie Woods, doesn't want her murder solved, in fact, she wants Lilly stopped. In an urgent search for someone who could see her, she finds both Miranda Grey, still new to her gifts as a medium, and Melinda Gordon from her hometown in Grandview. Both mediums are determined to figure out what Leslie wants, and what exactly happened the night she died.

Disclaimer: I do not own Cold Case, Gothika, Ghost Whisperer and Allison Dubios, who is mentioned once or twice in this story.

Spoilers: I know that a lot of things will be different for the story. It doesn't follow Cold Case or Ghost Whisperer's formula to the exact, nor does everything that has happened to the characters get mentioned. This takes place after Jim Clancy has crossed over, after the movie of Gothika, and I would say after Lilly was shot. Delia's husband never came back.

Author's Note: The basic of the story came about from a Ghost Whisperer conversation I had with Alkimon, and he also asked the one question that had me think about this crossover.

Prologue: October 1992

By the glow of a single flickering candle, Leslie Woods bent over a small, light blue diary. She scribbled what she could in a short amount of time, trying her best to get everything she could out on paper in case she survived. In case she didn't. The more fear she felt, the faster her hand moved over the paper. There was very little concern for her hand writing, as she felt that he was near. As long as she got everything written down, she didn't care. If she survived, she'd know what she had written. If she didn't... No one will, and the secret will be gone- safe perhaps- for good....

There was a shout and a bang. Leslie gasped, then shook in her spot. She looked up for a second for the sounds again, but it had been quiet. She looked out the window and saw a new car in her driveway. She wrote faster now, finishing her thought. Her spine became cold as she heard the door to her home opening below. She prayed that it wasn't her daughter coming home. She felt bad that she hadn't come to get her, but Cassie was safer where she was. She hastily stuck a small shiny peice of metal inside the diary after putting in the last sentence, and then she hid the diary behind a trunk of her grandparents' clothing, between it and the wall. Leslie forced herself to slow her breathing in order to quiet herself. Though she had just run over two miles from her abandoned car to her home and away from the one persuing her, she knew it was her only chance for survival if he didn't think to look for her up here. She blew out the candle, but she knew that it was probably too late. There was a window there, and he would have seen the glow from it. Though she often thought otherwise, he wasn't stupid.

Leslie could hear the thuds around her house as he searched for her. Slowly they seemed to get louder as he walked from the first floor to the second, searching the rooms and closets. It wouldn't be long before he saw the square cut out of the ceiling in the upper foyer, which lead to the attic where she hid. From here she had nowhere to run. She prayed that he would only stick his head in and take a quick sweep, but she knew that he was more thourough than that. He would come fully in, and she knew that she wouldn't survive. As the flap opened, she let a tear fall, knowing that she wouldn't see her daughter or her mother again. She regretted everything that brought her to this point in time, wishing she had left everything alone. She didn't want the blood from their deeds to get on her hands as well, and she knew that she couldn't just sit down and do nothing. But she wished she had. She wanted to be selfish and wish she never tried to make things right, just so that she could take Cassie to the zoo that weekend like she had promised.

"I know you're in here, you little bitch," he said. He was out of breath, but he seemed to find the joy in hunting her like deer. He banged on the wall loudly. He was closer to Leslie than she thought. Man, he moved quickly. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle any gasp she would make. Leslie looked across the room and saw the opened window, and she stared out at the sliver of moon that was slightly hidden by a tree. She felt something against her head, and she froze. "Tag, you're it," he said. "Stand up!" Leslie did as told, her eyes tear streaked.

"Please," she said, backing up slowly.

"Tell me where it is!" He advanced on her. Though his face was now masked, she knew who was beneath it. She knew because the mask had been put on sometime during the chase through the woods.

"I don't have it!"

"You do! Tell me where it is!"

"I'm telling you the truth-" there was a shuffle and a scream before a sickening thud was heard.

***

Police sirens covered the long driveway; a small child huddled against an old woman as they watched a black bodybag go by them.

***

A masculine head shook sadly as he carried a box of evidence into the storage space marked 'L. Woods- '92' on the outside of it. The officer placed this box with the thousands of others before he turned around and walked quickly out of there, as the storage area always gave him the creeps. He felt bad that yet another case had gone cold.