Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest or its characters.
A/N: Hi everyone. This story is the sequel to my other story Re-Crossing. I would recommend you read that first to understand the status of some of the relationships. Some of the original characters were introduced in that story, however, you can probably figure out what is going on without reading Re-Crossing. For those who didn't read it, Reese and Carter have confessed their love for each other and are trying to make a relationship work. This is AU from The Crossing and starts a couple of months later.
Chapter 1
February 14, 2014
Detective Jocelyn Carter shivered as a mix of freezing rain and sleet soaked her navy trench coat. She thought to herself in disgust 'Happy Valentine's Day' as she looked upon the dead body of a woman under the Walnut Street overpass. This was the second one in the last three months. The Jane Doe was blond and appeared to be in her mid thirties. Cause of death seemed to be the glaring gash to her throat. Duct tape covered her mouth and her long blond tresses had been unceremoniously chopped, and strewn around her. Carter turned to her partner, Lionel Fusco. "Who does this remind you of, Fusco?"
Fusco shook his head at the sad scene and shoved his hands in his pockets, hunched against the cold wind and rain. "Christine Kinkirk." In early November, they had been assigned to the case of Christine Kinkirk, a young executive assistant found under this very overpass. Christine favored their current Jane Doe—petite, blond, although Christine was only twenty-three when she died. Christine's body was positioned in the same way—chopped hair, duct taped mouth and a single cut to her neck. Initially, Fusco and Carter had focused on her ex-husband. It was well known to Christine's friends and family that she had been a victim of domestic violence. Christine had filed for divorce six months prior to her death and severed ties with Kevin Rollins, even going as far as returning to her maiden name. That lead, however, had gone nowhere. Kevin Rollins had an airtight alibi. He had been speaking at a technology conference in Beijing at the time of Christine's death that was being podcast live. And the ritualistic manner of the killing did not fit the MO of a hired gun.
Carter sighed. So much for any Valentine's Day plans. "Fusco, we better get back to the precinct and see if we can get an ID on our Jane Doe. The Kinkirk killing was too precise to be a first. We need to see if there are more victims."
"I'm right behind you, Partner," Lionel stated as he followed Carter to their cruiser. As Carter stepped to the driver's side, she braced herself against the car as a wave of dizziness hit her. "Carter, you ok?"
"I'm feeling a little under the weather. You better drive," she said as she handed Fusco the keys to the cruiser.
John Reese stepped into his usual coffee shop feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He noticed the red and pink paper hearts decorating the doors, windows and pastry case as he entered the warm cafe. Normally, Valentine's Day was a day he would sooner forget existed, but not this year. He had just finished working a number and was looking forward to spending his first Valentine's Day with a very special woman. He stood at the counter and the young barista gave him a smile. "How can I help you?" she asked as she tucked a strand of curly blond hair behind her ear. He detected a slight southern drawl in her voice and guessed she probably hailed from Tennessee or one of the Carolinas.
"One Sencha tea, one black coffee and a dozen glazed donuts." The barista handed him a cardboard drink holder with his tea and coffee and then gave him the green donut box. He gave her the money and placed a ten dollar bill in her nearly empty tip jar.
Smiling she called "Thanks and Happy Valentine's Day."
A short time later, John entered The Library whistling. Shaw stood from her chair and glared at Reese. "What's your problem?" she asked as she grabbed the box from John's hand. She opened the box stuffing one donut in her mouth and taking another in her free hand. "Feeling festive, Reese? A pink frosted donut. Really?" John looked over her shoulder and smiled. The barista must have slipped the pink Valentine's Day donut into the box. Even Shaw's sour temper wasn't going to dampen his mood.
John went to the computer and placed Harold's tea next to the keyboard. "Mr. Reese, I'm afraid there is no rest for the weary. We have a new number." Reese leaned over Finch to look at the picture. Smiling back at him was the barista from the coffee shop. "Mr. Reese, meet Laney Burke."
"What do we know about her, Finch?" Reese asked as Shaw joined them, fishing another donut from the box. Reese almost laughed as he noticed she claimed the pink one.
"Ms. Burke is a recent transplant from Nashville, Tennessee. My information indicates she relocated to the City approximately six months ago," Finch responded.
"Any record?" Shaw asked.
"I've run an NCIC on her and she has no criminal record. I also hacked the Davidson County Police Department in Nashville. Ms. Burke's name is listed in six different police reports over the course of a year and a half." Finch hesitated to continue.
"Listed as what? A witness? A suspect?" Reese asked.
"The victim, Mr. Reese. It appears Ms. Burke was the victim of domestic violence at the hands of her boyfriend, Chris Spicer."
"Where is Spicer now, Finch?" Reese growled. Finch sighed knowing how sensitive Reese was to these cases.
"Remember, Mr. Reese. Ms. Burke could be our victim or our perpetrator. For all we know at this point, Ms. Burke could be plotting to kill Mr. Spicer," Finch replied.
Shaw leaned over Finch, scrolling through the photos of a battered Laney Burke—black eyes, busted lips and multi-colored bruises in various stages of healing. "If she is the perpetrator and he did this to her, I say good riddance. How can I help?"
"Ms. Shaw, as I once told Mr. Reese, I like to think we are striving for a higher moral standard here than perhaps what you were used to with your prior employer" Finch stated.
"Whatever," Shaw muttered under her breath, crossing her arms.
"Finch, Spicer. Where is he?" Reese questioned.
"Mr. Spicer is a minor league baseball player for the Nashville Sounds. He appears to be in Florida for a preseason baseball clinic which begs the question, why do we have Ms. Burke's number if her abuser is thousands of miles away?" Finch queried.
"Hi, George," Carter called out as the tall, redheaded, freckle faced man approached her desk.
"Thanks for calling, Detective. What is it you've got?" George O'Malley questioned. George O'Malley was the assistant district attorney assigned to high profile domestic violence homicides. On occasion, he and Carter had worked together. When Carter noticed the domestic violence connection between her victims, she placed a call to the DA's Office, requesting O'Malley.
Carter led George over to the white board, where a picture of their latest victim and victim Christine Kinkirk were taped up. George paused in front of the picture of their Jane Doe and pulled it down. "Oh God. I know this woman," he stated.
"Who is she?" Carted questioned, motioning for Fusco to join them.
"Her name is Melissa Sanford. She's one of the women who attends counseling at my wife's foundation. She has volunteered with the foundation almost from day one. She was like family," George said sadly.
"Do you know who we need to contact? Next of kin?" Fusco asked.
Clearly shaken, George responded "Yeah, Allison will know. I need to go break the news to her. She'll be devastated. I'm assuming you suspect her ex?"
"That's just it, George. We're not sure. We have another victim—same MO," Carter explained. As if examining the board for the first time, George noticed Christine Kinkirk's picture.
"Wait a second, you're thinking serial?" He then pointed to the second picture on the board. "I think I've seen her at the foundation too. Is she your other victim?" George asked.
"Yes. Her body was found last November. So the connection might be the foundation?" Carter thought aloud. "George, we're going to need to talk to Allison."
"Give me the chance to tell her about Melissa first. I'll set up a meeting for you to talk to her in the morning," George replied as he exited the precinct.
Carter slumped into her desk chair and found herself face to face with a bouquet of pink and white tulips. Not surprisingly, her burner phone began to buzz. She answered the phone.
"How are you, Detective?"
"You know John, the best laid plans. I have a homicide. May be a serial, so it's going to be a long night."
"I suspected as much when you haven't left the precinct in hours." He could hear Joss huff, knowing she was mildly annoyed that he and Finch continued to keep close watch on her phone's movements through the City. He ignored her and continued, "I'm afraid I'm in the same boat, Joss. New number. Finch has me going to the number's apartment. Shaw is tailing her."
"Well, we knew the odds of us actually spending Valentine's Day together were slim to none, John. It's the nature of our lives."
"I have to admit I was pretty hopeful this morning that we might catch a break."
"Me too," Joss sighed disappointingly. Carter paused as she heard someone calling out her name. "John, hold on a minute." John smirked knowing exactly who was trying to get her attention. He could hear her yell, "I'm Detective Carter." A delivery man stopped in front of her and placed a white sack on her desk. She reached for her purse to tip the young man and he waved her off.
"It's been taken care of, Ma'am." Joss smiled and thanked the young man, as she peeked into the bag. She smelled the familiar aroma of Pad Thai and her stomach grumbled. She hadn't realized until she smelled the food that she hadn't eaten all day, but of course, someone else would have noticed.
Carter spoke into the phone "I wonder who could be sending food and flowers. I must have a secret admirer. There's no note or card." She paused for dramatic effect. "Maybe it's Ian Murphy. . . ." Joss smiled as she heard the silence on the other end.
"Not funny, Joss," John stated but Carter could hear the lightness in his voice.
"Oooo. I know. It's Tony Marconi."
"Ha! Ha! You are hilarious."
"In all seriousness, do you need any help with the number?" Joss questioned.
"Don't worry about it. Stay focused on your case. I'll call if I need anything. Be careful, Joss. And enjoy your dinner."
"You be careful too. And try to stay out of trouble, although I know that's like telling you not to breathe."
John chuckled. "I'll see you soon, Joss." As they disconnected the call, John could hear Fusco in the background chastising Carter for ordering without him.
Laney groaned as she exited the subway station and made her trek to her destination. It had been a long, crazy day at the coffee shop. The patrons' moods ranged from cheerful, like her early tall, dark and handsome customer, to downright despondent over Valentine's Day. One woman had to write down her order between sobs. All Laney could determine was the woman had been dumped this morning.
Laney Burke was not a fan of Valentine's Day. It only reminded her of why she uprooted her life and moved to New York in the first place. After a year and a half of abuse at the hands of the man who claimed to love her, she finally realized that their relationship wasn't love. It was about Chris maintaining control and power.
Laney entered the red brick building off of Walnut Street, heading straight for the meeting room. She stopped and poked her head in the office when she saw the dark haired preteen standing at the copy machine. "Hey, Izzy," Laney called. Isabella O'Malley turned around and smiled at Laney. "Has your mom put you to work?" Isabella's mother, Allison O'Malley, was the founder of 'There's Always Hope,' a charity dedicated to helping abused women and children. Laney's support group in Nashville had connected her with the foundation prior to her move. Here Laney had found a close knit group of women who understood her pain and insecurities. Laney usually came twice a week for a group session and sometimes, when she had the time, she volunteered in the office.
"Hey, Laney. Yeah. Mom needed some copying and filing done, so I stopped in after school." Laney Burke was one of Isabella's favorites at the foundation. She was the older sister Isabella had always wanted. "Looks like Valentine's Day drew a big crowd to group today."
"I guess I better hurry up and get a seat. See you later, Izzy," Laney said waving to the girl. When she opened the meeting room door, she noticed about ten women seated in a circle. Laney took a seat and waited, noticing a petite brunette she had never seen seated on the other side of the circle. Usually the group moderator was already here. All of the women turned to look as Allison O'Malley and their moderator, Jenna Allen, entered the room. Both women wore somber expressions and Laney could tell Jenna had been crying.
Allison pushed a dark strand of hair out of her face as she shut the door. "I'm afraid I have some sad news. Melissa Sanford was found dead this morning. I don't really have any details, but it appears that NYPD is treating it as a homicide" Allison explained. Laney sat gaping and could hear the other women in the room respond. Some gasped, others began to cry.
Laney was the first to speak. "Do they suspect her ex-boyfriend?"
"I'm sure he is a suspect, Laney, but the investigation is in the early stages. The homicide task force has already called George in on the case. I expect the police will probably want to talk to those of you who knew Melissa. If I find out anything about funeral arrangements, I'll let you know. I'll let the group and you, Jenna, decide whether to have a session tonight." With her last statement, Allison quietly exited the room, leaving its occupants shell-shocked at the news.
Sam Shaw sat in the room, staring at the women. Could the murder of Melissa Sanford have anything to do with Laney Burke? Shaw eyed the young woman suspiciously. She was the only one not crying. Shaw then turned her attention to the moderator. The dark haired woman had called her Jenna. For some reason, Jenna looked familiar to Shaw, but she couldn't place her. It was like a vague memory was tugging to come to the surface, and yet Shaw didn't know why Jenna caught her attention. As the women were comforting each other, Shaw slipped from the room and touched her earpiece. "Finch did you get all of that?"
"Yes, Ms. Shaw. Perhaps Ms. Sanford's death is somehow connected to Ms. Burke. Head back to The Library. We'll see if Mr. Reese had any luck at Ms. Burke's apartment."