Disclaimer: I, of course, don't own the characters. (not the main ones anyway.)
A/N: I was going to post this as chapters, since I like the natural breaks that allows, but it's done so here it is.
(Plus the shallow part of me likes reviews after each chapter)
Lindsay stood back and waited for the ME's official autopsy report. Considering she and Jacobi had spent the entire day in the park investigating the double shooting, she already knew the results, but she couldn't close the file without it being official. So she waited, not so patiently, until her friend confirmed that the two drug dealers killed each other in a deal gone bad.
Claire pulled the sheet up over the second body. "This one died of a gunshot wound, the first one died from his stab wounds," she informed Lindsay as she removed her mask and gloves.
"Thanks. We already have all the evidence, just needed your report to tie it all up in a bow for Tom." Lindsay waited for Claire to sign the report before stuffing it into her file, "it's nice to catch a case in the morning and close it before dinner."
"Speaking of.." Claire's dinner invitation was cut short by Cindy walking into the morgue.
"Perfect timing," Lindsay said as she looked at the redhead. "The case is all closed, although I don't know if I should give you any inside information," she teased. "Just strolling in at the end for the scoop without putting in any work."
"Not my story," Cindy replied bluntly. "I just wondered if you wanted to eat."
Lindsay studied her seemingly upset girlfriend, "sure. I need about twenty minutes. Why don't you go see if Jill is in her office and we'll be right behind you."
"Okay. I'll meet you at the diner." Cindy answered as she went out the way she came in.
Lindsay watched the door swing closed before she turned to find Claire staring at her. "What?"
"You tell me."
"I have no idea. She was fine when she left for work this morning."
"Alright, well we better get over there." Claire said as she moved to her office to gather her things and Lindsay went upstairs to pass the file off to Tom.
**
Once at the diner Lindsay and Claire made their way to their usual booth just as the waitress was delivering a drink. She picked up an empty glass and turned from the table, "what can I bring you two?" she asked her other two regulars.
Claire glanced at the table, "just bring us two more of those," Claire suggested as she moved past and settled in next to Jill. The two women watched as Lindsay settled next to Cindy, leaving it to her to question the reporter.
"So," the Inspector began lightly. "Where were you today?"
Cindy glanced at her friends before focusing on her lover, "I don't want..." she closed her eyes with a sigh when Lindsay merely tilted her head. "San Quentin."
"Why?"
"Working." The reporter answered simply as she tuned back to her drink.
"Whatever you are working on it obviously upset you." Claire stated with concern.
"You realize this would go a lot smoother if you just tell us what's bothering you." Lindsay informed the younger woman as she reached over and took her hand.
Calmed immediately by the touch Cindy smiled slightly. "I had a meeting with Mason Charles."
Lindsay's jaw clenched and her hand squeezed reflexively, "why?" She did not like the idea of her girlfriend spending any time alone with a man on death row for killing six women.
"His execution is set for Friday and he wanted his story told."
"But why you?" Jill asked, picking up on Cindy's reluctance to participate in the interview. "Couldn't you say no?"
"I did. About a dozen times."
"What do you mean?" Claire queried.
"I don't know why he chose me, but he's been writing me for months asking me to see him. And since I've just been ignoring him he figured out a better way to get what he wants."
"He contacted your boss." Claire deduced.
"And anyone at the paper with an ounce of power over my decision making."
"Well, you got through it. Now you can write your story and be done with it." Lindsay said with some finality.
"I wish. Apparently he has a long story, I have to go back tomorrow."
Lindsay shook her head. "I don't like this," she said unnecessarily.
"Neither do I but until I'm independently wealthy I have to do my job." Cindy said, trying to reassure them both. "Can we please eat dinner and talk about something else now?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes." Jill answered for the table.
**
After dinner, and several more drinks, Cindy excused herself from the table to use the restroom. Lindsay shifted to the inside seat, staring at Cindy's bag as she placed it next to her on the bench.
"Don't think about it." Claire's words made their way to Lindsay's ears.
"Huh?" Lindsay asked as her trance was broken.
"You are thinking of snooping in her bag to read her notes."
"Just because she doesn't want to talk about it that doesn't mean I shouldn't know." Lindsay reasoned.
"I know you mean well but you shouldn't push."
"I won't," Lindsay promised. "I just want to be ready when she decides to talk about it."
**
When they arrived home Lindsay grabbed Martha's lease. "I'm just going to run her out really quick, then we could relax with a movie if you want."
"That sounds nice but I'm really beat, I'm just going to go to bed."
"Okay." Lindsay gave her a quick kiss before Cindy moved toward the bedroom.
After the walk Lindsay moved silently into the quiet apartment, she spotted Cindy's bag and stood staring at it for a moment before moving towards the bedroom. She quietly peeked in to make sure Cindy was asleep and then went back into the living room to find out why the earlier meeting was so upsetting to her girlfriend. Lindsay picked up the bag and moved over to the couch, she sat down and paused for second before following through with her plan. Curiosity getting the better of her she opened the bag and pulled out Cindy's notebook, a tape recorder and three tapes.
She studied the recorder, thinking it strange that Cindy would use one, although this would make her snooping a little easier. Noticing that the tapes were numbered she picked up the first one and inserted it into the player, making sure the volume was low enough that it wouldn't be heard outside of the room she pressed play.
"Thank you. Good morning Ms. Thomas"
"The tape is running so do you want to just get started." Cindy's voice was cold and distant.
"Right to the point, I like that." Lindsay could hear the arrogance in Charles' voice. "You think it is strange that I wanted you to record our conversation."
"Not at all. You want the story to be accurate I'm sure."
"I had considered a video recording but since I've been here for over twenty years I feel I'm more old school. And I don't want people remembering this old man when they think of me."
"You were convicted and sentenced to death in 1984 for the deaths of six women, murders that you committed between 1979 through 1981. Would you like to start with the first victim."
"Oh no Ms. Thomas, my story doesn't start there. I feel in order to truly understand what I did we need to start with my childhood."
"Your childhood?"
"Yes. Shall we begin." There was a pause in the conversation and Lindsay could picture Cindy nodding. "My father was an abusive man."
Lindsay continued to listen as Mason Charles talked of his upbringing. It was the same story she had heard over and over from the criminals she had interrogated. 'My parents were mean to me so I became a criminal'. He told of a few happy memories of his father that centered around a BB gun he had received for his tenth birthday. He explained how his father had taken him out and taught him how to shoot birds and squirrels, and how this experience made him see death in a different light. It made him want to understand death and eventually the fear of death. By the time he was fourteen shooting small animals was no longer enough, he wanted to feel it, so he killed his first cat. For the next hour and a half he went into great detail on how he killed a dozen or so animals, cats and dogs, and how he would torture them before finally killing them.
"I was almost nineteen when I killed my first person." Lindsay's interest was immediately piqued. "Although it was one with which I was never charged, and I don't know if it really counts."
"Who was the victim?"
"My mother."
"I read that your mother died in a hospital, of cancer."
"Yes. My father had long since left and I was living on my own. I received a call from the hospital that my mother had been admitted and she had very little time left. It had been quite a while since we had spoken but I wanted to see her, not so much her it was more to see how death looked. When I finally saw her she looked so small and frail, I watched her for a few hours before I disconnected her breathing tube and left. It was several hours later when the hospital contacted me to tell me of her passing. They even agreed to take care of her bill so I wouldn't sue them for their negligence."
"Their negligence?"
"Yes. I was quite amazed myself. So you see I don't know if that one counts."
"I think it does."
"Well whether it does or not it was quite unsatisfying, although I did find it somewhat exhilarating. I needed to have that feeling again, but it was two years before I killed my first woman."
"Mary Donnelly. Why did you choose her?"
"You know Ms. Thomas, I think I am done for today. Speaking of my parents has been somewhat upsetting."
"What?"
"You will need to come back tomorrow."
"That wasn't part of the deal."
"The deal was you would come and record my story. My story isn't over." Lindsay listened as a chair scraped across the floor. "See you in the morning Ms. Thomas." After a few minutes of silence in which Lindsay assumed Charles was leaving she heard one more thing on the tape before it ended.
"Son-of-a-bit..."
Lindsay heard very little of Cindy on the tapes, mainly just asking him to pause when she needed to change the tape. After listening she understood why Cindy had been in such a foul mood and why she did not want to discuss her interview. A small part of her actually regretted listening to the tapes but she knew that once Cindy was ready to talk about it it would be easier for her if she didn't actually have to replay the words. She just hoped she was doing the right thing by listening and that her girlfriend wouldn't see it as an invasion, as Lindsay once again overstepping a boundary.
She packed everything back into Cindy's bag just as she had found it, turned off the lights and went into the bedroom. She rushed through her preparation for sleep, slid quietly into the bed, scooted close to her lover and wrapped an arm protectively around her waist.
**
The next morning Cindy walked into the kitchen to find Lindsay standing at the stove, coffee and juice already set out on the table. "You're actually cooking? To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Lindsay turned and smiled, "I do know how to cook you know. I just prefer when you do it."
"Thanks." Cindy smiled back as she settled in her chair.
"Besides, I figured you may as well start your crappy day off right."
"Ah yes. Back to The Rock for me." The reporter joked, hoping to keep the mood light.
"Um, that's Alcatraz." Lindsay teased as she plated an omelet.
"Yes, I do know that," Cindy informed her as the plate was set in front of her. "This looks delicious."
"My Famous Boxer Omelet." Lindsay said as she moved back to the stove to get her own breakfast.
"Famous?"
"I used to make them for Tom when he had a tough case," the Inspector said as she sat down. As she realized what she had said she looked at Cindy apologetically. "Sorry."
"For what? Making your husband breakfast? It's okay Lindsay." Cindy smiled reassuringly. "Just as long as we don't reminisce about what else you did for him."
"Deal." Lindsay agreed with a wink.
"Besides, I've been know to make a few breakfasts in my day."
"Eat." Lindsay demanded. "No more reminiscing."
**
Lindsay returned home that evening and was slightly dismayed to find the stairs to the attic down. As she started up into the attic Cindy appeared at the top of the ladder and started down. "What are you doing up there?" Lindsay asked as she stepped back to let the redhead step off the ladder.
"I needed a space to spread out and I'd rather not have everything out down here."
"Have you started your article yet?"
"I'm not sure where to." Cindy admitted as she wrapped her arms around Lindsay's waist, needing a little comfort. "How about we go out to a movie tonight."
"Sure. Why don't you pick out what you want to see while I run Martha out."
"Thanks." Cindy said as she pulled back, giving Lindsay a quick kiss before moving into the other room.
**
After the movie and a quick dinner, where Cindy kept the conversation away from her interview, the women returned home with Cindy once again calling it a night and heading to bed. Lindsay walked the dog and then settled onto the couch with a beer waiting for Cindy to fall into a deep sleep before searching for today's interview tapes.
Lindsay was relieved when she saw that in their haste to go out for the evening they had left the attic ladder down. She quietly made her way up the steps and settled in the chair behind the desk, scanning the surface at the old newspaper clippings from the time of Charles' murders. She searched for the new tapes, careful not to disturb any of Cindy's work, finally coming across three tapes with today's date and numbered in order. She set up the tape recorder and hit play before swiveling the chair to watch out the window as the interview began.
"Thank you for coming back."
"Did I have a choice."
"We all have choices."
"Yesterday you were about to tell me about Mary Donnelly."
"Right to business. Yes, Mary was a beautiful girl..."
After listening to Charles explain, in great detail, how he tortured and murdered six women Lindsay finally understood why Cindy had chosen 'Paul Blart' as their movie choice. It was the one movie out where she could be pretty confident she wouldn't think of murder. Although Lindsay had thought about it a few times, she couldn't hate the movie knowing it actually made Cindy laugh a few times.
Lindsay had a hard time imagining Cindy sitting in a room with that man while he bragged about the evil things he had committed, even she was slow to change the tapes when one would end. Once again Charles said that he required another day to finish his story. Cindy had tried to reassure him that she had enough material for the article but he was adamant that she return.
Lindsay put everything back on the desk as she had found it then spent the rest of the night sitting in the attic staring out the window.
**
For the second morning Cindy entered the kitchen to find breakfast being prepared. "You know you are going to spoil me if this keeps up."
"I like spoiling you." Lindsay informed her as she carried a plate of pancakes to the table.
"I really am okay you know." Cindy said quietly as stood and watched as Lindsay moved the pancakes onto their plates and drenched them sufficiently with syrup.
"I know." She replied as she turned to pull Cindy into an embrace.
"I love you." Cindy said as she reached up to kiss Lindsay's cheek.
"What's not to love."
Cindy laughed as she settled at the table and began eating. "So are these Famous Boxer Pancakes?"
Lindsay settled into her own chair, "no. Not yet anyway. I just thought we should have our own tough case traditions."
Cindy grinned helplessly at the thoughtfulness, "I prefer pancakes anyway."
**
Lindsay got home later than she had hoped that evening. As she entered the apartment she was immediately met by a whining Martha. "What's the matter girl. Cindy not home yet?" She asked the dog as she moved into the living room to find Cindy's bag laying carelessly in the middle of the floor, she quietly walked to the bedroom and found the reporter already in bed. After staring, and worrying, for a few moments she backed out of the room and silently closed the door. Once back in the living room she studied Cindy's bag before another whine from Martha had her delaying her nightly snooping.
After the walk Lindsay made herself a sandwich, grabbed a beer and settled on the couch with the day's tape, happy with the fact there was only one tonight.
"So was returning today your choice Ms. Thomas?"
"Yesterday you detailed all six murders. What was it that finally led to your capture? Did you make a mistake?" Lindsay tensed as she heard the disgust in Cindy's voice.
"What makes you assume I made a mistake?" She also heard a hint of anger in Charles' voice.
"Well you got caught didn't you?"
"Why did you ignore my letters for so long?"
"We aren't here to talk about me. Why don't we talk about your capture."
"I searched a long time to find just the right person to write my story. Then I saw the articles you wrote on Billy Harris."
"That's how I won the job huh?"
"I'm sure he was pretty scary, until you met me that is."
"You aren't all that scary."
"Not now no. Had we met twenty years ago, maybe."
"I'm not coming back tomorrow so you may want to continue with your story."
"You'll come back if I need you to."
"No. I will need tomorrow to actually write the article. If you want it printed on Friday, before your execution." Lindsay sighed as she heard Cindy emphasis her last word. She could tell that the reporter was starting to get frustrated with how this interview was beginning.
"I'm just trying to compliment you on your Harris articles. I had noticed that you wrote very highly of the Inspector who finally captured him."
"If we aren't going to talk about you then I'm leaving."
"Of course capturing isn't really the right word. Did you ever interview Inspector Boxer on how it felt to kill a serial killer?" After years of conducting interrogations Lindsay instinctively knew that this interview was not going to get back on track.
"We're done."
"Yes. Get up and leave." Lindsay said to the tape recorder.
"I'm sorry please sit down. Thank you. I did wonder though, is that when you started sleeping with her."
"We are not discussing my personal life."
"I just think it would be exciting to be dating a cop and a killer at the same time."
"Lindsay is not a killer."
Lindsay sat up straighter on the couch and stared at the recorder. "Don't let him push you," she said as though she could influence what was going to happen next.
"It's just that cops have certain tools. You know, I used handcuffs a couple of times, they can be very erotic."
Lindsay heard a chair scrape the floor and fall. "That's it."
"Do you let her use them on you?"
"Shut your fucking mouth."
"Maybe you're the one with the power in the bedroom. I could give you some pointers."
Lindsay heard a sudden commotion on the tape along with some muffled laughter and a couple of new voices.
"Thomas get off of him. Edwards get in here and take Charles back to his cell."
"See you tomorrow Ms. Thomas." Charles said.
"If this in any way jeopardizes his execution I will hold you responsible."
"I'm sorry." Lindsay heard Cindy say quietly.
"And you aren't coming back tomorrow."
"You don't have to worry about that."
"Gather your stuff and I'll walk you out."
Lindsay sat motionless and continued to listen to the silence that came from the recorder, after a second she turned it off and threw it against the wall. She ran her hands through her hair as she dropped her head onto the back of the couch, not sure if she wanted to scream or cry. She sat there for several minutes before she felt two arms wrap around her neck. "You okay?" Cindy whispered in her ear.
"You could have talked to me about this."
"I didn't need to."
That statement hurt. She needed Cindy more than anyone in her life before and the fact that she wasn't equally needed felt like a personal failure. "Okay." Lindsay replied as she tried to stand up.
"Wait," Cindy said as she tightened her grip. She climbed over the back of the couch to kneel next to Lindsay, "I knew you would listen to the tapes so I didn't need to tell you what was on them." She reached over and grabbed her girlfriend's chin to force eye contact. "And after listening to Charles all day I didn't want to talk about it."
"I would have listened."
"I know. But what was I going to say? Charles was a sick bastard and I just wanted to get home and forget about it. The best part of yesterday was just going out with you, I didn't want to ruin that by talking about him."
"But what he said today."
"Yeah. I almost just got rid of that tape. I didn't want you to hear that, he provoked me and I fell for it." Cindy shifted so that she was straddling Lindsay's lap. She reached out and took Lindsay's hands and held them to her chest. "And before you start thinking any different, I do need you. Just being with you calms me like nothing else in my life."
"That's all I want."
"You know," Cindy stood up from the couch, pulling Lindsay up with her. "The best part of today could still happen," she declared as she moved them toward the bedroom.
**
The next morning it was Lindsay's turn to have breakfast waiting as she entered the kitchen. "Now this is how things should be," she said as Cindy removed a pan from the oven.
"Is that right," Cindy smirked as she set the rolls on the table. She moved behind a chair and pulled it out for her girlfriend. She bent at the waist and held out her hand, "my lady."
Lindsay laughed as she sat down, "oh yeah. I could get use to this."
Cindy smiled as she moved to get the coffee. "Well, if I get fired you may get your chance," she said as she joined Lindsay at the table.
"I take it you've decided what you're going to write."
"Yep. I'm going to write the story I want to tell."
Lindsay held up her mug, "that's the one I want to read."
**
Knowing that Cindy had spent the day writing Lindsay brought dinner home with her that evening.
She yelled up into the attic that she was home and the reporter immediately emerged to join her.
"How's the article coming." Lindsay asked as she distributed the food onto the table.
"Good. I've sent a rough draft to David so he can get idea of how to lay it out."
"Do I get to read it?"
"Of course. But not till it's done. I've still got a few hours to clean it up before final copy has to be sent."
"So I guess I can't hover around the attic till it's finished." Lindsay teased.
"No you may not. You'll just have to find something else to occupy your time."
After a few minutes of eating and non crime related conversation Cindy heard her phone ringing and, with a few mumbled curses, ran to the attic to retrieve it.
Seconds later Lindsay's own phone rang; Jacobi calling with a new crime scene that required their attention. She pushed back from the table, gathered her necessary items and climbed the attic ladder to tell Cindy she had to leave. As she moved into the attic she couldn't help but hear the frustration in Cindy's voice, "I don't care...so don't print it then...leave the front page blank for all I care."
Lindsay had barely stuck her head through the opening when Cindy turned to frown at her. Giving a sympathetic smile the Inspector held up her phone and motioned behind her, after receiving an understanding nod Lindsay climbed back down and went to work.
**
Lindsay made it home the next morning just as the paper was being delivered. She starting a pot of coffee before she unrolled the paper and spread it onto the table, ready to give it her full attention.
After twenty minutes of reading and rereading she felt a warm body behind her and two arms wrapping around her neck.
"Well?" Cindy asked nervously.
"Amazing." And in Lindsay's opinion it was. Cindy had decided that the story wasn't about how one evil man ended six young and promising lives. The real story was in what was lost and how that loss influenced the following years. The reporter had spent the entire day calling the families of the victims, to tell their stories. At first they were reluctant but after explaining to them her meetings with Charles and how she really didn't want to promote his story they all agreed. Why promote evil when you can talk about the positive.
The article included not only the lives of the six women before their deaths but also what the families had accomplished in the twenty some years since. All of the families became activists of some sort. Three began support groups for families of violent crime victims, two became active in the punishment of offenders, pushing for harsher sentences and the last family became advocates for abused children, wanting to stop the crimes before they happen.
She chronicled their healing process and wrote of the pain that still existed. They all admitted that the execution would bring some closure but wouldn't remove any of the pain or anger. One father even admitting that he could save the state some money by supplying his own bullet.
The article only mentioned Mason Charles' name twice and only when it was absolutely necessary.
"You're just trying to butter me up," Cindy replied as she moved to the counter to pour the coffee. "Expecting me to cook for you or something."
Lindsay pushed slightly back from the table, "no." When Cindy returned to the table with two mugs Lindsay grabbed her hand and pulled her onto her lap. "How you could sit and listen to his evil for three days and come away with something so beautiful is amazing. There is just no other word for it. I couldn't do that."
Cindy reached out and tucked Lindsay's hair behind her ears, "that's why you write reports and I write the stories." She let her fingers slide along Lindsay's jawline as she pulled her hands away. "And why I don't always need to talk about what's going on. I have my release."
"I just want to be able to do for you what you do for me."
"You do. Believe me," Cindy reassured. "I do have one thing you can do for me."
"Anything."
"Go with me tonight."
Lindsay's eyes widened, "You're going?"
"I wasn't planning on it but a couple of the families asked me to, and I feel I owe them for talking to me."
Lindsay studied her for a second, not wanting Cindy to witness the execution but understanding her desire to be there. "Okay."
**
Arriving at work Cindy had received several pats on the back for her article. The bosses wanted to be angry since this was not the story they had ordered but after receiving several phone calls from the victims families, not to mention several other victim advocacy groups, they had to relent. The Register was the only paper that put the emphasis on the victims and they were being praised throughout the city.
The rest of the day was relatively normal. Lindsay had a new case to investigate and due to having inside information on that case, benefit of cooking breakfast for the lead investigator, Cindy wrangled the story away from Scott. And she was more than happy to get out of the office and have something to focus on other than the impending execution.
Cindy spent the day helping Lindsay with her case, and surprisingly enough the Inspector allowed her to without complaint. She took some time out to talk with Claire and Jill about her interviews with Charles and the day's article, receiving plenty of praise from both of them. She had almost been able to forget that in a few hours she would be witnessing someone's death. Not one she would mourn but she still didn't expect it would be an easy thing to see.
**
Arriving at the prison for the execution Cindy was slightly hesitant upon entering the observation room, but knowing that Lindsay was there with her she gained the courage to go in. As they made their way across the room to the empty seats Cindy introduced herself to a few of the family members, all clutching pictures of those they had lost.
At five minutes until midnight they pulled the curtain on the window that separated the observers from the execution. Mason Charles was already strapped to the table and he still wore the egotistical smile that Cindy had become used to seeing on his face. A guard in the room moved a microphone closer to him and the observation room was filled with his voice.
"No, I don't want to express any remorse to the families. I just want to know if Thomas is out there, that bitch double cross..." The room was once again silent and Cindy watched as the the realization hit Charles that those were the last words he would ever utter. No one would ever know the story from his point of view and after a day or two no one would even care, the arrogance slid from his face as he awaited his death.
A woman placed her hand on Cindy's shoulder and leaned forward to whisper to her, "personally I thought the article was amazing."
Lindsay squeezed her hand and leaned closer, "see. I was right."
Cindy smiled bashfully, she was beginning to feel self-conscious about the attention she had been receiving all day. In her opinion she just told a story, one that deserved to be told, she did it for them not herself.
After the execution Lindsay stood back and allowed Cindy some time to interact with the families. She couldn't help but grin proudly as everyone complemented the article and thanked the reporter for telling the story no one else bothered to tell.
Once back in the car Cindy turned to Lindsay, "we can go home and talk about it now. If you want to."
When she received a questioning glance she continued, "you listened to the tapes and witnessed the execution. Besides, I think I'm ready to talk about it now"
Lindsay reached over and ran her hand through the thick red hair, "I love you."
"What's not to love."
A/N2: I know there isn't much club interaction but it just wouldn't fit.
I still don't know if I'm completely satisfied but I've been tweaking it for two days so it is what it is.