A DEEP DEPRESSION
BY: LML
DISCLAIMERS:
I don't own 'em, I'm only borrowing all involved for a bit of fanfiction... Hope it's good. I make
no claims to WITCHBLADE, its characters, themes, or ideas. Trust me I'm not being paid for
this either, because if I were I wouldn't be trying to find a summer job right about now... One which I might add pays a little more than ten bucks at the end of the day... Such is the life of a college student I guess.
Note:
This story is set sometime in the second season. I'm still working the kinks out of it, but it should
turn out nicely. Also, note that this is primarily a Danny story. You read all these Jake stories,
then there are the Ian and Sara pairings, the Ian stories, the Jake and Sara ones, and then there
are just the Sara ones. This one is really about Danny and how he deals with a case without his
partner. He doesn't get enough recognition in a lot of the fiction I've read, so I figure it's time I
threw some out there and see if it takes off. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this one! Hey if you like it let me know! If you don't like it just tell me what I could change about the story perhaps to make it a bit better. I *can* take criticism!
My thanks to those of you whom have read and reviewed so far! Keep 'em coming pretty plz!
A DEEP DEPRESSION
BY: LML
Danny entered the office and sat down. Here he was at 7:30 in the morning, sitting alone in his
office. He really didn't feel all that caffinated enough for the work thing this morning, but he
knew that he was going to have to make himself get through it. It had been an unusually quiet
week, and he was hoping it would stay as such. But something felt wrong to him. Murphy's law basically dictated that whenever something was going right, that usually meant there was something wrong just waiting to happen, and Danny had a sinking feeling that this particular something would have to do with work. He wondered why his instincts were on such a high alert, but was willing to let it go for now. After all, he guessed it could be any number of things. Maybe it was the fact that Mija's birthday was coming up soon, and he was hoping that the surprise party he and his family had planned for her would go off without any unexpected instances. Or perhaps it was because Sara wasn't there to hit him with her usual onslaught of sarcastic
remarks and their constant teasing. He missed the bantering between the two of them more than
he would admit. He prayed she would return from her vacation soon.
It had only been two days, but he found himself wishing she would come back through those
doors and sit across from him, with that ever present look of seriousness about her as was her
custom. Sara had decided, after several attempts from both Danny and Joe Siri, to take some of
her accumulated vacation time. Daniel Germain's death had hit her pretty hard, and they hadn't
been able to track down Ian Nottingham whom Sara had believed to have been the one
responsible. But this hadn't been the first thing which had been quite out of the ordinary. Lately it
seemed that there were just too many unusual things happening, and too many things which had
yet to be explained completely. Ever since the case involving Danny's live burial, Sara had
seemed just a little off kilter. Believing there was something seriously wrong with Sara, Danny
had at first threatened to remain her partner no longer. But Sara had begged him to take a leap
of faith. He had called it blind faith with eyes wide open, and had accepted her request but only
for the time being. It bothered him though, Sara's increasing inability to confide in him or talk to
him about something which was obviously becoming a major issue with her. He knew something
wasn't quite right with Sara, and if she needed some vacation time to straighten it out, then he
would be happy to send her packing.
Sara had taken Joe Siri's retirement plans all right, but he knew that it bothered her more than
she cared to admit. It was common knowledge that after Sara's father James Pezzini had been
murdered, Joe Siri had become like a second father to her. Sara admired, loved, and respected
Joe completely and nothing in the world could ever change that. But Danny had seen how close
the two of them had been, and when Joe had officially announced his retirement, it had nearly
crushed Sara. Although she had insisted she was all right and fine with everything, Danny was
still concerned. Even though he and Sara had agreed to still remain partners, he was still worried
about her but didn't know just why. There were just way too many unknown factors which fit,
or rather didn't fit, into several aspects of their more recent cases. For example, during their
investigation into the Black Dragons, how had the most brilliant of the special forces unit missed
killing one or both partners as he fired on them? And, during their investigation of Carl Dalack,
how had Sara known that Dalack had taken Mija to Danny's home?
Now they had a new captain, Bruno Dante. For some reason, he seemed to ruffle Sara's
feathers just the slightest on certain ocasions, although it was nothing Danny could put a finger
on to pinpoint. He wanted his old partner and friend back, and was willing to do anything to
achieve that goal.
As he sat in thought, he recalled the last several weeks. He realized that things just hadn't been
right for some time now. He began to recall cases from the last couple of months, and realized
the trouble had started just after his near brush with the afterlife. Sara refused to tell him how
she had known exactly where he was buried in the cemetery, and furthermore refused to tell him
who had attacked him or their reasons for doing so in the first place. All Sara would tell him was
that where the people involved were concerned, the problem had been dealt with. Nothing
made sense to him. Sara was an excellent detective, and Danny was normally the first person to
make that fact known. But Danny knew how much the cases had effected his partner recently,
and the one involving his niece Mija was no exception.
Danny knew that Sara and Mija were close, and at times Sara was able to get through to Mija
more so than Danny himself was able to. And he realized that she had really grown quite
attached to Mija in the days following the girl's near brush with death. But Danny knew that
there was much more to it than just Sara's attachment to his niece and the fact that there were
still a few unanswered questions that he had for her. He couldn't figure out why she was getting
those constant headaches, especially after she caught a glimpse of the bracelet he now saw as a
constant presence on her right wrist. Something was really bothering Sara, and he hoped that
her time off from work would help her to deal with whatever it was.
Dannny sighed softly, and leant back in his chair. "Well," he thought, "I'd better get to these
reports I have left. They're not going to get themselves done, although that would be a plus." He
reached for a pen and the first report at the top of the thin stack neatly piled on his desk. He
began writing the first line of the report, just as his phone rang. He settled the pen on the desk
and retrieved the receiver. "Det. Woo, Homicide."
"I'd like to report a dead body..." Danny had to strain to hear the soft voice. From the sound of
the caller's voice, Danny surmised that she was female, somewhere in her twenties although he
couldn't be absolutely certain of that, and she sounded frightened. "There's a dead body and
you need to come investigate..."
"Miss, where are you calling from? What's your name?" The line went dead.
After listening to the dial tone for a couple of seconds he set the receiver back on its hook. For
what seemed like several agonizing minutes, Danny stared at the phone, almost willing it to ring
again. And, as if on cue, the device did just that. He lifted the phone to his ear and was about to
open his mouth to speak when he heard the faint voice once more.
"The address is 1432 Woodlawn Ave."
No sooner were the words spoken than the line once again went dead in Danny's ear. He
replaced the receiver for the second time and sat staring. He was a homicide Detective, and a
body had been reported at an address. He stared at the phone for a moment longer, hoping it
would ring once more. But the phone remained silent, as Danny's pen and report lay on the
desk untouched. He rose from his chair, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on hastily.
Exiting the office, he glanced around for McCartey, finally spotting the rookie standing by the
coffee maker just inside the brake room. He walked over and put a hand on Jake's shoulder.
"C'mon. We've got a homicide call."
"Where?"
The question went unanswered as Danny, still holding fast to Jake's shoulder, began moving
through the precinct. Jake staggered at first trying to keep up with the tall Asian man, all the
while trying not to spill some of the hot cup of coffee he'd just acquired.
"All right, Danny, I'm coming."
A few minutes later found the two of them in a patrol car. Jake sat in the passengers' side,
holding on to his coffee as Danny drove wildly through the streets. Although he couldn't figure
Danny's actions out, he didn't question them. He glanced once or twice at Danny, but the man
said nothing.
Danny was on high alert. He knew something hadn't been right about that phone call, but
couldn't put his finger on it. Something was off. Why hadn't the caller given a name? Perhaps,
Danny concluded, she was frightened and didn't want to give her name to the police. But he
vowed to get to the bottom of this no matter what it took.
"Hey, do you think it's possible for you to take those corners a liittle less sharply there, Danny?
I'm not vary fond of having third-degree burns on my body from this coffee here..." Jake stared
directly at Danny who seemed almost driven.
"Awe quit your complaining, Rookie, and don't worry about it. You're not going to end up with
third-degree burns from that office sludge. They don't make it hot enough for that..." Danny
chided. "Besides, you've got the rest of your life to get another cup. Who ever this DB is we're
rolling on isn't going to be that lucky."
Danny glanced ahead of him, staring straight at the houses and the numbers. Finally he saw the
1400 block of Woodlawn Ave. come into view. He sped up a little, getting a glare from Jake.
Danny ignored the rookie and continued on. He pulled up in front of 1432 Woodlawn Ave. and
cut the engine. Climbing out of the car, Danny hesitated only for a fraction of a second before
making his way toward the front stepps.
Jake, having by now given up trying to drink the already cold coffee, dumped the contents into
the street and crushed the plastic cup in his hands. He hurried to catch up to Danny who had
already gotten to the door. As Jake approached, he could see that Danny had his hand on his
gun and the other poised to knock on the hard wood of the door.
Danny stood still. His head was clear, and his job fully in mind. He opened the screen with one
arm, holding it open with his elbow. As Jake approached, Danny gestured for Jake to grab the
screen door. When Danny no longer felt the weight of the screen door's presence against his
arm, he turned to the side. Now he stood facing the screen door which sat perpindicular to that
of the inner door, with his fist poised to knock. No sooner had his fist struck the door once,
than it swung open, revealing to the two men that it had been left ajar.
"Jake, cover me. Let's go in, but be careful. Something doesn't feel right." Danny took a hesitant
step into the house. He stepped further in, gun drawn and Jake at his heels.
The two found themselves to be in what seemed to be a rather large entryway, with a staircase
directly in front of them, and an open area to their right. The two partners moved slowly to the
right, keping their eyes and ears peeled for any sight or sound seeming to be out of place.
"Danny, are you sure about this?" Jake quipped. "No offense here or anything but everything
seems all right so far. Are you absolutely sure..." Jake didn't finish the sentence. He hated
questioning Danny, or even Sara for that matter. But he didn't have the experience that either of
the two senior officers had, and he didn't recognize all of his hunches well enough to know
which ones were pure instinct and which ones were just too far out there in never never land to
believe.
Danny gave Jake a curious glance. He liked the kid, and knew that Jake was only questioning
because of his inexperience as a Homicide Detective. Finally he said after diverting his gaze
from Jake once more, "I'm telling you something just isn't right. I can feel it."
With that he moved further into the open area, revealing it to be a living room. Nothing seemed
out of place in the room at all. The couch which sat along the far wall had an afghan folded
neatly and placed atop its high back. The two chairs which were placed at opposite ends of the
couch so they were facing one another, too had afghans folded neatly and slung carefully over
their backs.
Danny moved further into the room. He spotted a doorway leading to what was probably a
kitchen area, and entered. This room much like the one before, was immaculately neat and
sparce, with everything in its proper place. Nothing seemed to be out of place here, and yet
something still felt terribly wrong. There was a gloom about the rooms, one which seemed to
creep into Danny's sin and wouldn't leave him be no matter how hard he tried to shake it.
"Jake, let's check the upper floor of the house. It's not too large a building, and the upper floor
has to yield something of value."
Jake looked at Danny quizzically. He wanted to ask, but didn't know how to do so without
insulting Danny's intelligence. Finally, however, Jake came forth with what he wanted to say.
"Danny, no disrespect here or anything man, but are you sure this is the place? I mean maybe
the caller got the addres messed up. It happens yknow. People get freaked and they make
mistakes."
"The caller had the correct address, McCartey, I'm sure of it. She was scared, but if she'd been
freaked then she never would've called back a second time. C'mon, let's go check out that
second story."
Jake, having accepted Danny's logic and reasoning, followed the senior officer up the flight of
stairs. All along the wall leading up the stairwell, hung several photographs. Each was hung up
above the one before it, in stairstep fashion all along the wall leading up to the second level of
the home. At the top of the stairwell was a hallway. It ran the length of the living room below it,
with four doors branching off the main passage. The floor was hard wood, and made a light
creaking sound as the two men walked down to the first door.
This door branched off to the left, and stood ajar. Danny held his breath for a beat, stood to the
side, and pushed the door inward with the toe of his booted foot. He braced himself for
whatever would come at them upon the movement of the door, but nothing came. He found
himself staring into a medium-sized bedroom, furnished like the rest of the house and with
nothing out of place. He entered the room and began searching. Finally he came to the closet,
and prepared to open the door. As before he stood to the side, gun drawn. He moved the
closed sliding door aside to reveal nothing of interest.
"Nothing in this one. Let's check the others. If we find nothing we'll go. But I'm telling you
there's something here. I don't know how I know this, just that I do."
They exited the room and found themselves back in the hall once more. The next door was on
their right hand side, and as soon as Danny looked around the doorframe he realized that this
room would yield nothing of value either, just as the first had yielded nothing. The second door
led to a bathroom, and the third door, this time on the left once again led to a linen closet. This
too, prooved nothing.
Finally, they came to the end of the hallway and the fourth and final door. As before, Danny
took his position and opened the door. He spotted a flight of steep attic stairs ahead, and almost
shut the door and turned when he saw it. There on the stairwell were several drops of red,
staining each step as far up as Danny could see.
"Jake, go downstairs and call this in. We've got something. There's blood on this staircase, and
it's fresh. Get the M.E. here. I have a bad feeling we're about to find a body up there."
Jake nodded solemnly and turned to leave. Danny regarded him for a moment and then turned
back to the stairwell. Seeing that the bloodstains only lay on one side of the steps, Danny
decided to go up and investigate. He began ascending to the third story of the house, feeling
vary tense about what he expected to find once at the top. As he finished climbing the final few
steps, he could see why the blood had been only to one side. He glanced to the left and knew
instantly why. She was lying on the floor, curled in a small heap. In the dimly lighted room he
could clearly see the blood covering her wrists and arms.
"Oh my god." Danny whispered softly. "Who did this and why!"
As he stood there, taking everything in, the clinical and detached part of him didn't take over
right away. The human part of him, the one which cried inside for the pain that this young,
beautiful woman had more than likely suffered before death, surged to the forefront of his
consciousness. This had been the way he had reacted when he'd been investigating Karl Dalack
for the deaths of the eight teenage girls. He could feel himself slipping back into that old, familiar
angry part of himself that he had fought so hard to control. He fought everyday to control this
part of him, and had almost failed when Mija had nearly been Dalack's final victim.
He stood stock still and glanced at the young woman more closely, never touching or disturbing
the crime sceen in any way. He was beginning to gain controll of himself now, and was forcing
the sadness and pain he felt for this poor girl back behind its barriers within his mind. He knew
all too well that in order to perform the duties of his job affectively, he would need to remain
objective and detached from his feelings about how or why this girl had died.
She lay curled as though she'd fallen or passed out. The look of the wounds on her arms and
wrists suggested self-infliction. But he was a homicide detective, and would need to rule out any
and all other possibilities before making his final conclusion. He could see the phone which lay
only inches from her right arm. He didn't need to pick it up to know that this most certainly had
bloody handprints on it. He realized somewhere deep within the recesses of his mind that her
finger prints would be the only ones found on the electronic device.
As he stood gaping at the sceen before him, he heard the telltale sounds of the police and saw
the flashing lights through the windows. He was about to turn and head down to meet the
newcomers, but thought better of it. He didn't want to leave this woman alone. Although he
knew she was dead, her physical self wouldn't know he was there. But her mental self, the part
of her that wasn't made up simply of flesh, blood, and bone would know of his presence. He
knew her soul had been crying for someone to listen, and when he'd answered her call she had
already decided her own destiny.
Five minutes later, the narrow hallway was overflowing with people and equipment. Within the
next ten minutes, Vicky Po and her team had arrived and had already carted the young woman
off to the Morg for an autopsy. Now, Danny stood investigating the sceen as he would any
other murder or suicide sceen. He noted the spots on the perfectly immaculate floor where her
blood had stained the wood. He could see the chalk outline of her body, in its twisted
contortioned state. But what he noticed most was the absence of any weapon with which this
act had been committed. He noted that there was no razer or anything with a blade on it
capable of performing the work done to the victim's body.
"Danny, you ready to go? Po's already come and gone, and we need to get going on..."
Danny was aware of Jake's voice in his ear but didn't listen to his words. Instead he turned to
face the rookie and plastered a serious look of clinical detachment on his features. "Jake, I'm
going to handle this one alone. I don't need backup on this case. It looks pretty simple to me.
But what I want you to do, is go back to the Precinct and start the reports on the files I have
sitting on my desk. All the information is there, and all you'll need to do is fill out the reports.
You worked on a few of the cases with Sara and me, so you shouldn't have any trouble with
them."
Jake looked at him thoughtfully. He knew that it was within Danny's right to have him go about
the task newly assigned to him, but he questioned Danny's motives for a single unyielding
second. He wondered if perhaps, Danny wasn't handling this case objectively or if he had
perhaps known the victim prior to death. Jake dismissed this thought though as being out of the
question. Danny hadn't sparked a look of recognition when they'd drawn near the property, nor
had he mentioned anything of the victim's name. However, Jake couldn't help but wonder at the
endless reasons Danny Woo would have for dismissing him from this particular case. Finally, he
settled on doing as he had been requested and turned to leave.
"All right, but you know where to find me if you need someone to watch your back..." Jake
gave Danny one last look and then departed the sceen.
Not long after that, the rest of the group left the sceen, leaving Danny truly alone in this house.
All the pertinent evidence had been bagged and tagged and would be awaiting his arrival back
at the Precinct. Vicky would have the autopsy notes ready and waiting for him just as soon as
she could, and Jake was handling the reports on his desk. Although he knew that everything had
been gone over with a fine-toothed comb, something still seemed amiss. It was clearly spelled
out for him, the girl had obviously committed suicide. But Danny felt that there was more to this
than what met the eye. As he watched the last of the flashing lights depart down the street, he
turned and headed down to the first floor of the house. He began a thorough search, looking in
cabinets, cupboards, trunks, table drawers, and any other available nook and cranny the small
home had to offer. He didn't know just what he was looking for, but was sure he would know
what it was when he found it. He hadn't made an official decision on this case yet and wanted a
little more time to investigate all possible avenues before closing it. He wanted to know the truth,
no matter how unpleasant it was.
After about a half-hour of searching through the downstairs, Danny stopped for a moment. He
began to wonder if he would find what it was that he was searching for. He stopped moving and
just stood staring at his surroundings. Finally his gaze moved to the staircase. He headed for the
stairs and began to ascend them, not entirely sure what it was he would look for once at the top.
Once there, however, he felt drawn to the bedroom and entered. It all apeared to be normal,
but he couldn't shake his hunch that something was here.
He began to search the room with a clinical eye, trying to find something which would help him.
He began looking on the dreser's clean top. He found there a jewelry box, a bottle of perfume,
deodorant, and a makeup case. He started with the jewelry box. Lifting the lid he spied several
beautiful pieces of jewelry which had been placed carefully inside. He left the jewelry
untouched, and was about to disregard the box when he noticed a small compartment tucked
away at the bottom. He opened the tiny drawer and found a small photograph lying face up in
the otherwise empty drawer.
Careful not to leave any of his own prints on the picture, Danny lifted it out and held it by the
edges. He glanced at the picture in his hand in wonderment. He glanced at the photograph, one
which was obviously of the young woman whom had been taken the the morg only an hour
earlier. But there was another person in this picture, a young man. Form the look of the man's
face, Danny guessed his age range to be that of a twenty-one to twenty-five-year old.
Something told him not to disregard this person, as he may just be the key to helping solve the
case. Danny studied the photograph for a few moments longer, and then removed an evidence
bag from his jacket pocket. He carefully placed the picture inside the bag, closed it, and labeled
it with the proper information.
Twenty minutes later, Danny entered the morg and headed in the direction of Vicky Po's office.
Seeing that she had her back turned to the door, Danny slipped into the room almost as though
on a current of barely moving air. He could hear her humming softly to herself and held off for a
moment. She was, by far, one of the more interesting characters he had ever worked with while
on the force, but he liked interesting and unusual. Finally he chose his method of attack. He
slipped up behind her, and stretched out a hand, settling it only a scant couple of inches above
ehr shoulder. Waiting until she had placed whatever instrument she was using on the table in
front of her, he struck.
"Po-Po." His hand came down and caught her shoulder quickly. "Okay, whatcha got for me
today?"
Vicky spun around, right into Danny's body. He'd expected her action and caught her easily. He
smiled at her feigned annoyance. "Woo, I really think you should see someone about that little
problem of yours."
Smiling, Danny released Vicky and stepped back. "Say what? I have no idea what you're
talking about."
"You know, your little habbit of sneaking up on people. Why don't you ever try that on Pez?
She might actually get a kick out of that."
"Already did that once. Wound up going home that night with a sore jaw and a vary black eye.
My wife didn't exactly find it too amusing when I told her about it, but when Sara happened to
mention it to her one day she found it quite hillarious. She still hasn't let me forget it. And
besides, you're much more fun to pull that on."
Vicky smiled. Despite his little prank, she really enjoyed Danny's company. He was the type of
guy she loved having as a friend, and if not for the fact that they were such friends and that he
was married, she'd prbably have fallen for him long ago. But they were pretty close: Danny,
Pez, and herself. And for that she was more than thannkful. She loved having them all as friends
and wouldn't give that up for anything in the world. She stepped over to her desk and reached
onto it, grasping a thin folder.
"Here's the workup on your Jane Doe. Her fingerprints say she's Rebekah Evans, twenty-five
years of age, and the cause of death was due to exanguination or an enormant amount of blood
loss. The wounds on her wrists and arms suggested to me that she was a suicide. But, I took a
second look. Something just didn't sem right. They were done too deeply and too quickly for
her to have been able to cut both wrists properly."
"So you're saying she didn't commit suicide. She was murdered?" Danny held his emotions in
check, thogh all he wanted to do was to find out who was responsible for the girl's death and
make them pay.
Vicky nodded. "The depth of the cuts to her wrists were so deep, that there was no way they
could've been done with a razar. They had to have been made with something much sharper,
and the blade would be about the same width as a razar's though. But I also need to tell you that
I found no evidence of her having ever been a cutter."
"You sure?"
"About as sure as I can be with this case. See, with cutters they generally cut different spots on
their bodies. Arms, legs, other places where the marks could be concealed with clothing or
other items. This girl wasn't a cutter. I also checked her medical history and found no signs of
depression, nothing to indicate that she was even remotely close to the point of committing
suicide. All the evidence here points to a killer."
Danny stood in thought. He knew that the possibility had been there from the beginning, but he
didn't know how to approach it without having to consider the fact that this girl could've been a
suicide. All throughout his life he'd never been able to contemplate what could ever posess
people to either consider or act on the thought of suicide. It made him hurt inside to think of
how many cases of suicide he'd seen during his time so far in Homicide. But what saddened him
even further was the reasoning behind each of them. Some did it to escape depression, just as
some did it simply to inflict pain on someone who had inflicted pain upon them previously. And
then there were just some people who had honestly given up on life and decided to end it all.
"Thanks, Vicky. Anything more?"
Vicky looked at Danny for a minute before responding. "Well there is something, but maybe it
doesn't mean anything here, but I checked for skin samples from beneath her fingernails and
there weren't any."
"You mean there wasn't enough for you to get a proper sample right?" Danny quipped in his
soft, gentle tone. He hoped that he had heard incorrectly but feared that he hadn't.
"I mean there were none to bee found at all. She didn't fight back when her killer or killers
attacked. I can't even say whether the killer was male or female because of the depth and
severity of her wounds. I can tell you though, that you're looking for a left-handed person."
Danny thanked Vicky and then turned to leave. Before he exited though he had a thought. "Did
you do a tox screen on the victim?"
"Yeah. Nothing showed up. No drugs or alcohol. I even took a look at some of the evidence
from the sceen. The phone had a substancial amount of blood on it, most of which was from the
victim. But I did find a vary small amount of blood which seems to be the victim's but it doesn't
match her type. Your victim's blood type was A-B Negative. It's an extremely rare type of
bloodtoo. Something like one out of every three-hundred-thousand families has this type."
Danny nodded and left. He headed straight for the Precinct, bound and determined now more
than ever, to find out just what happened to Rebekah Evans. As he entered his office, he
spotted Jake McCartey seated at Sara's desk, working furiously on a report. The rookie
looked up as Danny entered and flashed a quick grin.
"Hey, Danny, I'm almost done with the Henderson case and I finished the Jefferson file twenty
minutes ago. You want any help on that homicide call from earlier?"
Danny shook his head solemnly. "No thanks, Jake, I got it covered. But thanks for the offer. I
know where to find you if I need backup." He reached out and took the rest of the reports from
Jake. "I don't need backup, but I need you to run down a picture for me. Find out who the guy
is, and get back to me ASAP."
Jake took the evidence bag Danny held out to him and regarded the Asian man thoughtfully.
"No problem. Hey where will you..." Jake stopped talking, realizing that it was futile. He wasn't
going to get a response from Danny, and thought it best not to press for one. He watched as
Danny headed back out the dor, cellular in hand.
Danny headed straight for the car and climbed in. He started the vehicle, and drove about a mile
until he came to a spot where he pulled off to the side of the road. He sat there, staring at
nothing, just holding his cellular phone in complete and total silence. He didn't know Rebekah
Evans, but he mourned for the loss of her life just as though he'd known her for many years. He
was a police officer, and as such wasn't allowed to let his emotions get the best of him especially
when those emotions concerned a current case. But right now to hell with emotions and to hell
with ethics. He didn't cry outwardly, but rather inwardly. Rebekah Evans was only a few years
younger than his wife, and it disturbed him to think that someone so young and beautiful as
Rebekah Evans could be murdered in such a horrible fashion. He didn't know who would make
this woman's murder look like a suicide, but he wanted to find out and make them pay for their
crime.
Danny placed his cellphone back in his jacket pocket and leant back in his seat. He thought of
Lee and the kids. Thoughts of his niece Mijaflooded his senses as well, but the thought of the
twenty-four-year old Rebekah Evans lying in a drawer in the morg wasconstantly at the
forefront. He made up his mind and started the engine. He began to drive until he no longer saw
the city andall its skyscrapers, lights, noise, and people. When he finally stopped the car, he
climbed out and surveyed his surroundings. All seemed quiet and normal, until the peaceful
silence was shattered by the ringing of his cellphone. He grabbed it from his pocket and
answered. "Detective Woo,"
"Danny, it's Jake. I've got the information on that picture you wanted me to run. The guy's
name is Warren James. Address is 615 Chandler Ave."
"Thanks, Jake. I'll check it out." Danny had just begun to close the phone when he heard Jake
say something. "What was that?"
"I said your wife called. She wants you to call her back whenever you get a free moment. She
said it wasn't anything major, but you should call her." Jake sounded tired and worn out. Danny
could definitely understand why the rookie was as tired as he sounded, they both were.
"Thanks, Jake, see you when I get back to the office." Danny closed his phone.He placed the
phone back in his pocket and climbed back in to the car. He drove back to the city, and once
there headed for Chandler Ave. After finding Warren James' house, he gave the building the
once-over and stopped his car.
Danny approached the door and knocked. He probably should've brought backup with him,
but he didn't feel that he needed anyone at the present. If he did need someone, he knew he
could easily get a hold of Jake who was anxious to help out anyhow. He waited patiiently for
someone to answer his persistent knocking, and when the door was finally opened, Danny
found himself staring straight into the face of the man in the photograph.
"May I help you?"
"Yes sir," Danny said. He wasted no time getting down to business. "My name is Det. Woo,
and I'm with the 11thh Precinct's Homicide Division. I'm looking for a Warren James."
"I'm Warrren James. What can I do for you, Det. Woo?"
Danny quickly explained that he was there to speak to the man regarding Rebekah Evans, and
explained further that he was investigating her death. He left out the part about it being a murder,
figuring he would keep that as an ace in the hole just in case.
"Well, I knew Rebekah vary well. We were best friends for several years." Warren James
stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come on in, Det."
Danny followed the man in and waited for him to close the door behind them both. Warren
James ushered Danny into a living room and offered him a seat. Danny took one, waiting for the
younger man to take his own before continuing his questioning.
"You say that you were best friends with the victim. How long have you known Rebekah
Evans, Mr. James?"
"About nine years. We met when we were in high school. She was two years younger than me,
but three years behind me in school. I was a Senior and she was a Freshman."
Danny continued to question James for about ten minutes more before he finally said, "Does it
seem likely to you that Rebekah would've been one to commit suicide?"
Warren James' face turned ashen and his jaw dropped. "Suicide? No, not Rebekah. Not a
chance. She was the most lively person I've ever known. She has... Had a zest for life that I've
seen in vary few people. She was the type of person that saw the glass as being half full, not half
empty."
"When was the last time you'd seen Rebekah Evans, Mr. James?" Danny quipped. He
wwatched the man's face to see if he could gage any reaciton. By all appearances the man
seated only a few feet from him seemed distraught over his friend's apparent death, but Danny
wondered if there wasn't something more to it.
"I haven't seen or spoken to Rebekah in probably six months or so."
"Why is that? If you two were the best of friends, why is it that you haven't seen or spoken to
her in the last six or seven mnoths?"
Warren looked at Danny and then down at the floor. "The last time we were together,
something happened between us. Neither of us knew it would happen, but it happened just the
same. We just haven't been able to speak to one another since then."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Danny asked. He knew he was probing thin ice here, but he had to do it. "Why haven't the two of you spoken, and what happened to cause the two of
you to suddenly stop speaking?"
"The last night we were together, Rebekah and I had begun talking about past relationships the
two of us had been in and what had happened causing these relationships to fall apart. I don't
know how the topic came up, but eventually we began talking about ourselves and how we felt
toward one another. She admitted to me that she did have feelings for me, feelings deeper than
those of a friend. After that things got a little intense. We were both in to it pretty deep, and
later on I drove her home. That was the last time I saw her. I mean don't get me wrong or anything, Det. I mean we spoke a couple of times
afterwards, but the conversations were pretty superficial. She asked me how I felt and if we were still okay as friends. I told her that we were, but frankly she scared me. I never expected
her to come out and tell me how much she really cared. I told her she scared me, and I think it
really hurt her."
Danny looked at the man in front of him. Finally he asked, "Do you think that perhaps it could've hurt her enough to make her want to commit suicide?"
"No, Det. Woo, I don't believe that it would've caused her to commit suicide. Rebekah was completely, one-hundred-percent against suicide. She'd seen too much of that sort of thing related to her own family for her to ever have considered the possibility."
"Are there any family members around here that I might speak with?"
The man stared at the detective for a moment and then shook his head sadly. "Rebekah didn't have any family around here, at least nobody I knew of. I mean who could blame her for being around them, I mean after what they all did to her as a kid?" He stood from his chair and walked over to a nearby table. Lifting a small book from the table he opened it and flipped to a page. He handed it to Danny and reseated himself.
"What's this?" Danny took the book and stared at the photograph that Warren had flipped to. He stared at it and then gazed at Warren with a questioning stare.
"A picture of Rebekah and myself at the one and only family event she ever attended as long as I knew her and as long as she'd been here in New York. Things were pretty tense between her and her aunt, but I never figured the lady would up and off herself the next week... I think it really got to Rebekah though. She never spoke about it, but I just had a feeling that something was really eating at her."
Looking down at the photograph and then back at the young man Danny said softly, "I'm really sorry about your friend. I really do need to know though, Mr. James, if you can think of anyone, anyone at all, whom I might also notify of her death?"
"I'm really sorry, Det. Woo, but unfortunately I can't come up with anyone at all. Like I said the only relative I really knew of was Rebekah's aunt, and as I said before the woman committed suicide a week after that photograph was taken. After that things just became really distant between the two of us. It's partially my fault, I mean I could've made an effort to try and talk after..." He paused for a brief moment, looking at the floor in front of him. He appeared to study the ground with an intensity of someone whi was attempting to say something but not say it al at once. Finally he looked up once more and continued. "After what happened between Rebekah and myself, I acted like a childish jerk. I wish to God now that I could just make things right with her."
Danny felt sorry for this young man. Here he was, hearing the news of the death of his best friend and he was blaming himself. It was a typical reaction, one of the five stages of grief. But Danny decided that he didn't want to prolong this man's suffering any longer. Standing, he handed the photo album back over to Warren James. He smiled a sad, sympathetic little smile as he started to make his way to the door.
"I'm sorry for your loss. And if there's anything you can remember, or anything I can do, please don't hesitate to call me." Danny reached in to his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to the young man as he turned to leave.
As Danny climbed back in to his car he couldn't help but feel more and more of the pain of the young woman's loss in his heart. He wasn't sure exactly why this case was effecting him so deeply, but he was sure that he would do everything within his power to find out exactly why Rebekah Evans had been killed. Although Warren James hadn't believed Danny's suicide theory, Danny hadn't said anything to indicate that Rebekah hadn't died as a result of suicide. Until he knew everything, he wasn't going to take any chances with this case. James seemed like an unlikely suspect, but something seemed off. If Rebekah hadn't been murdered, then where was the weapon with which she'd killed herself? And if it turned out that Rebekah had been murdered, who had murdered her and what with?
BY: LML
DISCLAIMERS:
I don't own 'em, I'm only borrowing all involved for a bit of fanfiction... Hope it's good. I make
no claims to WITCHBLADE, its characters, themes, or ideas. Trust me I'm not being paid for
this either, because if I were I wouldn't be trying to find a summer job right about now... One which I might add pays a little more than ten bucks at the end of the day... Such is the life of a college student I guess.
Note:
This story is set sometime in the second season. I'm still working the kinks out of it, but it should
turn out nicely. Also, note that this is primarily a Danny story. You read all these Jake stories,
then there are the Ian and Sara pairings, the Ian stories, the Jake and Sara ones, and then there
are just the Sara ones. This one is really about Danny and how he deals with a case without his
partner. He doesn't get enough recognition in a lot of the fiction I've read, so I figure it's time I
threw some out there and see if it takes off. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this one! Hey if you like it let me know! If you don't like it just tell me what I could change about the story perhaps to make it a bit better. I *can* take criticism!
My thanks to those of you whom have read and reviewed so far! Keep 'em coming pretty plz!
A DEEP DEPRESSION
BY: LML
Danny entered the office and sat down. Here he was at 7:30 in the morning, sitting alone in his
office. He really didn't feel all that caffinated enough for the work thing this morning, but he
knew that he was going to have to make himself get through it. It had been an unusually quiet
week, and he was hoping it would stay as such. But something felt wrong to him. Murphy's law basically dictated that whenever something was going right, that usually meant there was something wrong just waiting to happen, and Danny had a sinking feeling that this particular something would have to do with work. He wondered why his instincts were on such a high alert, but was willing to let it go for now. After all, he guessed it could be any number of things. Maybe it was the fact that Mija's birthday was coming up soon, and he was hoping that the surprise party he and his family had planned for her would go off without any unexpected instances. Or perhaps it was because Sara wasn't there to hit him with her usual onslaught of sarcastic
remarks and their constant teasing. He missed the bantering between the two of them more than
he would admit. He prayed she would return from her vacation soon.
It had only been two days, but he found himself wishing she would come back through those
doors and sit across from him, with that ever present look of seriousness about her as was her
custom. Sara had decided, after several attempts from both Danny and Joe Siri, to take some of
her accumulated vacation time. Daniel Germain's death had hit her pretty hard, and they hadn't
been able to track down Ian Nottingham whom Sara had believed to have been the one
responsible. But this hadn't been the first thing which had been quite out of the ordinary. Lately it
seemed that there were just too many unusual things happening, and too many things which had
yet to be explained completely. Ever since the case involving Danny's live burial, Sara had
seemed just a little off kilter. Believing there was something seriously wrong with Sara, Danny
had at first threatened to remain her partner no longer. But Sara had begged him to take a leap
of faith. He had called it blind faith with eyes wide open, and had accepted her request but only
for the time being. It bothered him though, Sara's increasing inability to confide in him or talk to
him about something which was obviously becoming a major issue with her. He knew something
wasn't quite right with Sara, and if she needed some vacation time to straighten it out, then he
would be happy to send her packing.
Sara had taken Joe Siri's retirement plans all right, but he knew that it bothered her more than
she cared to admit. It was common knowledge that after Sara's father James Pezzini had been
murdered, Joe Siri had become like a second father to her. Sara admired, loved, and respected
Joe completely and nothing in the world could ever change that. But Danny had seen how close
the two of them had been, and when Joe had officially announced his retirement, it had nearly
crushed Sara. Although she had insisted she was all right and fine with everything, Danny was
still concerned. Even though he and Sara had agreed to still remain partners, he was still worried
about her but didn't know just why. There were just way too many unknown factors which fit,
or rather didn't fit, into several aspects of their more recent cases. For example, during their
investigation into the Black Dragons, how had the most brilliant of the special forces unit missed
killing one or both partners as he fired on them? And, during their investigation of Carl Dalack,
how had Sara known that Dalack had taken Mija to Danny's home?
Now they had a new captain, Bruno Dante. For some reason, he seemed to ruffle Sara's
feathers just the slightest on certain ocasions, although it was nothing Danny could put a finger
on to pinpoint. He wanted his old partner and friend back, and was willing to do anything to
achieve that goal.
As he sat in thought, he recalled the last several weeks. He realized that things just hadn't been
right for some time now. He began to recall cases from the last couple of months, and realized
the trouble had started just after his near brush with the afterlife. Sara refused to tell him how
she had known exactly where he was buried in the cemetery, and furthermore refused to tell him
who had attacked him or their reasons for doing so in the first place. All Sara would tell him was
that where the people involved were concerned, the problem had been dealt with. Nothing
made sense to him. Sara was an excellent detective, and Danny was normally the first person to
make that fact known. But Danny knew how much the cases had effected his partner recently,
and the one involving his niece Mija was no exception.
Danny knew that Sara and Mija were close, and at times Sara was able to get through to Mija
more so than Danny himself was able to. And he realized that she had really grown quite
attached to Mija in the days following the girl's near brush with death. But Danny knew that
there was much more to it than just Sara's attachment to his niece and the fact that there were
still a few unanswered questions that he had for her. He couldn't figure out why she was getting
those constant headaches, especially after she caught a glimpse of the bracelet he now saw as a
constant presence on her right wrist. Something was really bothering Sara, and he hoped that
her time off from work would help her to deal with whatever it was.
Dannny sighed softly, and leant back in his chair. "Well," he thought, "I'd better get to these
reports I have left. They're not going to get themselves done, although that would be a plus." He
reached for a pen and the first report at the top of the thin stack neatly piled on his desk. He
began writing the first line of the report, just as his phone rang. He settled the pen on the desk
and retrieved the receiver. "Det. Woo, Homicide."
"I'd like to report a dead body..." Danny had to strain to hear the soft voice. From the sound of
the caller's voice, Danny surmised that she was female, somewhere in her twenties although he
couldn't be absolutely certain of that, and she sounded frightened. "There's a dead body and
you need to come investigate..."
"Miss, where are you calling from? What's your name?" The line went dead.
After listening to the dial tone for a couple of seconds he set the receiver back on its hook. For
what seemed like several agonizing minutes, Danny stared at the phone, almost willing it to ring
again. And, as if on cue, the device did just that. He lifted the phone to his ear and was about to
open his mouth to speak when he heard the faint voice once more.
"The address is 1432 Woodlawn Ave."
No sooner were the words spoken than the line once again went dead in Danny's ear. He
replaced the receiver for the second time and sat staring. He was a homicide Detective, and a
body had been reported at an address. He stared at the phone for a moment longer, hoping it
would ring once more. But the phone remained silent, as Danny's pen and report lay on the
desk untouched. He rose from his chair, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on hastily.
Exiting the office, he glanced around for McCartey, finally spotting the rookie standing by the
coffee maker just inside the brake room. He walked over and put a hand on Jake's shoulder.
"C'mon. We've got a homicide call."
"Where?"
The question went unanswered as Danny, still holding fast to Jake's shoulder, began moving
through the precinct. Jake staggered at first trying to keep up with the tall Asian man, all the
while trying not to spill some of the hot cup of coffee he'd just acquired.
"All right, Danny, I'm coming."
A few minutes later found the two of them in a patrol car. Jake sat in the passengers' side,
holding on to his coffee as Danny drove wildly through the streets. Although he couldn't figure
Danny's actions out, he didn't question them. He glanced once or twice at Danny, but the man
said nothing.
Danny was on high alert. He knew something hadn't been right about that phone call, but
couldn't put his finger on it. Something was off. Why hadn't the caller given a name? Perhaps,
Danny concluded, she was frightened and didn't want to give her name to the police. But he
vowed to get to the bottom of this no matter what it took.
"Hey, do you think it's possible for you to take those corners a liittle less sharply there, Danny?
I'm not vary fond of having third-degree burns on my body from this coffee here..." Jake stared
directly at Danny who seemed almost driven.
"Awe quit your complaining, Rookie, and don't worry about it. You're not going to end up with
third-degree burns from that office sludge. They don't make it hot enough for that..." Danny
chided. "Besides, you've got the rest of your life to get another cup. Who ever this DB is we're
rolling on isn't going to be that lucky."
Danny glanced ahead of him, staring straight at the houses and the numbers. Finally he saw the
1400 block of Woodlawn Ave. come into view. He sped up a little, getting a glare from Jake.
Danny ignored the rookie and continued on. He pulled up in front of 1432 Woodlawn Ave. and
cut the engine. Climbing out of the car, Danny hesitated only for a fraction of a second before
making his way toward the front stepps.
Jake, having by now given up trying to drink the already cold coffee, dumped the contents into
the street and crushed the plastic cup in his hands. He hurried to catch up to Danny who had
already gotten to the door. As Jake approached, he could see that Danny had his hand on his
gun and the other poised to knock on the hard wood of the door.
Danny stood still. His head was clear, and his job fully in mind. He opened the screen with one
arm, holding it open with his elbow. As Jake approached, Danny gestured for Jake to grab the
screen door. When Danny no longer felt the weight of the screen door's presence against his
arm, he turned to the side. Now he stood facing the screen door which sat perpindicular to that
of the inner door, with his fist poised to knock. No sooner had his fist struck the door once,
than it swung open, revealing to the two men that it had been left ajar.
"Jake, cover me. Let's go in, but be careful. Something doesn't feel right." Danny took a hesitant
step into the house. He stepped further in, gun drawn and Jake at his heels.
The two found themselves to be in what seemed to be a rather large entryway, with a staircase
directly in front of them, and an open area to their right. The two partners moved slowly to the
right, keping their eyes and ears peeled for any sight or sound seeming to be out of place.
"Danny, are you sure about this?" Jake quipped. "No offense here or anything but everything
seems all right so far. Are you absolutely sure..." Jake didn't finish the sentence. He hated
questioning Danny, or even Sara for that matter. But he didn't have the experience that either of
the two senior officers had, and he didn't recognize all of his hunches well enough to know
which ones were pure instinct and which ones were just too far out there in never never land to
believe.
Danny gave Jake a curious glance. He liked the kid, and knew that Jake was only questioning
because of his inexperience as a Homicide Detective. Finally he said after diverting his gaze
from Jake once more, "I'm telling you something just isn't right. I can feel it."
With that he moved further into the open area, revealing it to be a living room. Nothing seemed
out of place in the room at all. The couch which sat along the far wall had an afghan folded
neatly and placed atop its high back. The two chairs which were placed at opposite ends of the
couch so they were facing one another, too had afghans folded neatly and slung carefully over
their backs.
Danny moved further into the room. He spotted a doorway leading to what was probably a
kitchen area, and entered. This room much like the one before, was immaculately neat and
sparce, with everything in its proper place. Nothing seemed to be out of place here, and yet
something still felt terribly wrong. There was a gloom about the rooms, one which seemed to
creep into Danny's sin and wouldn't leave him be no matter how hard he tried to shake it.
"Jake, let's check the upper floor of the house. It's not too large a building, and the upper floor
has to yield something of value."
Jake looked at Danny quizzically. He wanted to ask, but didn't know how to do so without
insulting Danny's intelligence. Finally, however, Jake came forth with what he wanted to say.
"Danny, no disrespect here or anything man, but are you sure this is the place? I mean maybe
the caller got the addres messed up. It happens yknow. People get freaked and they make
mistakes."
"The caller had the correct address, McCartey, I'm sure of it. She was scared, but if she'd been
freaked then she never would've called back a second time. C'mon, let's go check out that
second story."
Jake, having accepted Danny's logic and reasoning, followed the senior officer up the flight of
stairs. All along the wall leading up the stairwell, hung several photographs. Each was hung up
above the one before it, in stairstep fashion all along the wall leading up to the second level of
the home. At the top of the stairwell was a hallway. It ran the length of the living room below it,
with four doors branching off the main passage. The floor was hard wood, and made a light
creaking sound as the two men walked down to the first door.
This door branched off to the left, and stood ajar. Danny held his breath for a beat, stood to the
side, and pushed the door inward with the toe of his booted foot. He braced himself for
whatever would come at them upon the movement of the door, but nothing came. He found
himself staring into a medium-sized bedroom, furnished like the rest of the house and with
nothing out of place. He entered the room and began searching. Finally he came to the closet,
and prepared to open the door. As before he stood to the side, gun drawn. He moved the
closed sliding door aside to reveal nothing of interest.
"Nothing in this one. Let's check the others. If we find nothing we'll go. But I'm telling you
there's something here. I don't know how I know this, just that I do."
They exited the room and found themselves back in the hall once more. The next door was on
their right hand side, and as soon as Danny looked around the doorframe he realized that this
room would yield nothing of value either, just as the first had yielded nothing. The second door
led to a bathroom, and the third door, this time on the left once again led to a linen closet. This
too, prooved nothing.
Finally, they came to the end of the hallway and the fourth and final door. As before, Danny
took his position and opened the door. He spotted a flight of steep attic stairs ahead, and almost
shut the door and turned when he saw it. There on the stairwell were several drops of red,
staining each step as far up as Danny could see.
"Jake, go downstairs and call this in. We've got something. There's blood on this staircase, and
it's fresh. Get the M.E. here. I have a bad feeling we're about to find a body up there."
Jake nodded solemnly and turned to leave. Danny regarded him for a moment and then turned
back to the stairwell. Seeing that the bloodstains only lay on one side of the steps, Danny
decided to go up and investigate. He began ascending to the third story of the house, feeling
vary tense about what he expected to find once at the top. As he finished climbing the final few
steps, he could see why the blood had been only to one side. He glanced to the left and knew
instantly why. She was lying on the floor, curled in a small heap. In the dimly lighted room he
could clearly see the blood covering her wrists and arms.
"Oh my god." Danny whispered softly. "Who did this and why!"
As he stood there, taking everything in, the clinical and detached part of him didn't take over
right away. The human part of him, the one which cried inside for the pain that this young,
beautiful woman had more than likely suffered before death, surged to the forefront of his
consciousness. This had been the way he had reacted when he'd been investigating Karl Dalack
for the deaths of the eight teenage girls. He could feel himself slipping back into that old, familiar
angry part of himself that he had fought so hard to control. He fought everyday to control this
part of him, and had almost failed when Mija had nearly been Dalack's final victim.
He stood stock still and glanced at the young woman more closely, never touching or disturbing
the crime sceen in any way. He was beginning to gain controll of himself now, and was forcing
the sadness and pain he felt for this poor girl back behind its barriers within his mind. He knew
all too well that in order to perform the duties of his job affectively, he would need to remain
objective and detached from his feelings about how or why this girl had died.
She lay curled as though she'd fallen or passed out. The look of the wounds on her arms and
wrists suggested self-infliction. But he was a homicide detective, and would need to rule out any
and all other possibilities before making his final conclusion. He could see the phone which lay
only inches from her right arm. He didn't need to pick it up to know that this most certainly had
bloody handprints on it. He realized somewhere deep within the recesses of his mind that her
finger prints would be the only ones found on the electronic device.
As he stood gaping at the sceen before him, he heard the telltale sounds of the police and saw
the flashing lights through the windows. He was about to turn and head down to meet the
newcomers, but thought better of it. He didn't want to leave this woman alone. Although he
knew she was dead, her physical self wouldn't know he was there. But her mental self, the part
of her that wasn't made up simply of flesh, blood, and bone would know of his presence. He
knew her soul had been crying for someone to listen, and when he'd answered her call she had
already decided her own destiny.
Five minutes later, the narrow hallway was overflowing with people and equipment. Within the
next ten minutes, Vicky Po and her team had arrived and had already carted the young woman
off to the Morg for an autopsy. Now, Danny stood investigating the sceen as he would any
other murder or suicide sceen. He noted the spots on the perfectly immaculate floor where her
blood had stained the wood. He could see the chalk outline of her body, in its twisted
contortioned state. But what he noticed most was the absence of any weapon with which this
act had been committed. He noted that there was no razer or anything with a blade on it
capable of performing the work done to the victim's body.
"Danny, you ready to go? Po's already come and gone, and we need to get going on..."
Danny was aware of Jake's voice in his ear but didn't listen to his words. Instead he turned to
face the rookie and plastered a serious look of clinical detachment on his features. "Jake, I'm
going to handle this one alone. I don't need backup on this case. It looks pretty simple to me.
But what I want you to do, is go back to the Precinct and start the reports on the files I have
sitting on my desk. All the information is there, and all you'll need to do is fill out the reports.
You worked on a few of the cases with Sara and me, so you shouldn't have any trouble with
them."
Jake looked at him thoughtfully. He knew that it was within Danny's right to have him go about
the task newly assigned to him, but he questioned Danny's motives for a single unyielding
second. He wondered if perhaps, Danny wasn't handling this case objectively or if he had
perhaps known the victim prior to death. Jake dismissed this thought though as being out of the
question. Danny hadn't sparked a look of recognition when they'd drawn near the property, nor
had he mentioned anything of the victim's name. However, Jake couldn't help but wonder at the
endless reasons Danny Woo would have for dismissing him from this particular case. Finally, he
settled on doing as he had been requested and turned to leave.
"All right, but you know where to find me if you need someone to watch your back..." Jake
gave Danny one last look and then departed the sceen.
Not long after that, the rest of the group left the sceen, leaving Danny truly alone in this house.
All the pertinent evidence had been bagged and tagged and would be awaiting his arrival back
at the Precinct. Vicky would have the autopsy notes ready and waiting for him just as soon as
she could, and Jake was handling the reports on his desk. Although he knew that everything had
been gone over with a fine-toothed comb, something still seemed amiss. It was clearly spelled
out for him, the girl had obviously committed suicide. But Danny felt that there was more to this
than what met the eye. As he watched the last of the flashing lights depart down the street, he
turned and headed down to the first floor of the house. He began a thorough search, looking in
cabinets, cupboards, trunks, table drawers, and any other available nook and cranny the small
home had to offer. He didn't know just what he was looking for, but was sure he would know
what it was when he found it. He hadn't made an official decision on this case yet and wanted a
little more time to investigate all possible avenues before closing it. He wanted to know the truth,
no matter how unpleasant it was.
After about a half-hour of searching through the downstairs, Danny stopped for a moment. He
began to wonder if he would find what it was that he was searching for. He stopped moving and
just stood staring at his surroundings. Finally his gaze moved to the staircase. He headed for the
stairs and began to ascend them, not entirely sure what it was he would look for once at the top.
Once there, however, he felt drawn to the bedroom and entered. It all apeared to be normal,
but he couldn't shake his hunch that something was here.
He began to search the room with a clinical eye, trying to find something which would help him.
He began looking on the dreser's clean top. He found there a jewelry box, a bottle of perfume,
deodorant, and a makeup case. He started with the jewelry box. Lifting the lid he spied several
beautiful pieces of jewelry which had been placed carefully inside. He left the jewelry
untouched, and was about to disregard the box when he noticed a small compartment tucked
away at the bottom. He opened the tiny drawer and found a small photograph lying face up in
the otherwise empty drawer.
Careful not to leave any of his own prints on the picture, Danny lifted it out and held it by the
edges. He glanced at the picture in his hand in wonderment. He glanced at the photograph, one
which was obviously of the young woman whom had been taken the the morg only an hour
earlier. But there was another person in this picture, a young man. Form the look of the man's
face, Danny guessed his age range to be that of a twenty-one to twenty-five-year old.
Something told him not to disregard this person, as he may just be the key to helping solve the
case. Danny studied the photograph for a few moments longer, and then removed an evidence
bag from his jacket pocket. He carefully placed the picture inside the bag, closed it, and labeled
it with the proper information.
Twenty minutes later, Danny entered the morg and headed in the direction of Vicky Po's office.
Seeing that she had her back turned to the door, Danny slipped into the room almost as though
on a current of barely moving air. He could hear her humming softly to herself and held off for a
moment. She was, by far, one of the more interesting characters he had ever worked with while
on the force, but he liked interesting and unusual. Finally he chose his method of attack. He
slipped up behind her, and stretched out a hand, settling it only a scant couple of inches above
ehr shoulder. Waiting until she had placed whatever instrument she was using on the table in
front of her, he struck.
"Po-Po." His hand came down and caught her shoulder quickly. "Okay, whatcha got for me
today?"
Vicky spun around, right into Danny's body. He'd expected her action and caught her easily. He
smiled at her feigned annoyance. "Woo, I really think you should see someone about that little
problem of yours."
Smiling, Danny released Vicky and stepped back. "Say what? I have no idea what you're
talking about."
"You know, your little habbit of sneaking up on people. Why don't you ever try that on Pez?
She might actually get a kick out of that."
"Already did that once. Wound up going home that night with a sore jaw and a vary black eye.
My wife didn't exactly find it too amusing when I told her about it, but when Sara happened to
mention it to her one day she found it quite hillarious. She still hasn't let me forget it. And
besides, you're much more fun to pull that on."
Vicky smiled. Despite his little prank, she really enjoyed Danny's company. He was the type of
guy she loved having as a friend, and if not for the fact that they were such friends and that he
was married, she'd prbably have fallen for him long ago. But they were pretty close: Danny,
Pez, and herself. And for that she was more than thannkful. She loved having them all as friends
and wouldn't give that up for anything in the world. She stepped over to her desk and reached
onto it, grasping a thin folder.
"Here's the workup on your Jane Doe. Her fingerprints say she's Rebekah Evans, twenty-five
years of age, and the cause of death was due to exanguination or an enormant amount of blood
loss. The wounds on her wrists and arms suggested to me that she was a suicide. But, I took a
second look. Something just didn't sem right. They were done too deeply and too quickly for
her to have been able to cut both wrists properly."
"So you're saying she didn't commit suicide. She was murdered?" Danny held his emotions in
check, thogh all he wanted to do was to find out who was responsible for the girl's death and
make them pay.
Vicky nodded. "The depth of the cuts to her wrists were so deep, that there was no way they
could've been done with a razar. They had to have been made with something much sharper,
and the blade would be about the same width as a razar's though. But I also need to tell you that
I found no evidence of her having ever been a cutter."
"You sure?"
"About as sure as I can be with this case. See, with cutters they generally cut different spots on
their bodies. Arms, legs, other places where the marks could be concealed with clothing or
other items. This girl wasn't a cutter. I also checked her medical history and found no signs of
depression, nothing to indicate that she was even remotely close to the point of committing
suicide. All the evidence here points to a killer."
Danny stood in thought. He knew that the possibility had been there from the beginning, but he
didn't know how to approach it without having to consider the fact that this girl could've been a
suicide. All throughout his life he'd never been able to contemplate what could ever posess
people to either consider or act on the thought of suicide. It made him hurt inside to think of
how many cases of suicide he'd seen during his time so far in Homicide. But what saddened him
even further was the reasoning behind each of them. Some did it to escape depression, just as
some did it simply to inflict pain on someone who had inflicted pain upon them previously. And
then there were just some people who had honestly given up on life and decided to end it all.
"Thanks, Vicky. Anything more?"
Vicky looked at Danny for a minute before responding. "Well there is something, but maybe it
doesn't mean anything here, but I checked for skin samples from beneath her fingernails and
there weren't any."
"You mean there wasn't enough for you to get a proper sample right?" Danny quipped in his
soft, gentle tone. He hoped that he had heard incorrectly but feared that he hadn't.
"I mean there were none to bee found at all. She didn't fight back when her killer or killers
attacked. I can't even say whether the killer was male or female because of the depth and
severity of her wounds. I can tell you though, that you're looking for a left-handed person."
Danny thanked Vicky and then turned to leave. Before he exited though he had a thought. "Did
you do a tox screen on the victim?"
"Yeah. Nothing showed up. No drugs or alcohol. I even took a look at some of the evidence
from the sceen. The phone had a substancial amount of blood on it, most of which was from the
victim. But I did find a vary small amount of blood which seems to be the victim's but it doesn't
match her type. Your victim's blood type was A-B Negative. It's an extremely rare type of
bloodtoo. Something like one out of every three-hundred-thousand families has this type."
Danny nodded and left. He headed straight for the Precinct, bound and determined now more
than ever, to find out just what happened to Rebekah Evans. As he entered his office, he
spotted Jake McCartey seated at Sara's desk, working furiously on a report. The rookie
looked up as Danny entered and flashed a quick grin.
"Hey, Danny, I'm almost done with the Henderson case and I finished the Jefferson file twenty
minutes ago. You want any help on that homicide call from earlier?"
Danny shook his head solemnly. "No thanks, Jake, I got it covered. But thanks for the offer. I
know where to find you if I need backup." He reached out and took the rest of the reports from
Jake. "I don't need backup, but I need you to run down a picture for me. Find out who the guy
is, and get back to me ASAP."
Jake took the evidence bag Danny held out to him and regarded the Asian man thoughtfully.
"No problem. Hey where will you..." Jake stopped talking, realizing that it was futile. He wasn't
going to get a response from Danny, and thought it best not to press for one. He watched as
Danny headed back out the dor, cellular in hand.
Danny headed straight for the car and climbed in. He started the vehicle, and drove about a mile
until he came to a spot where he pulled off to the side of the road. He sat there, staring at
nothing, just holding his cellular phone in complete and total silence. He didn't know Rebekah
Evans, but he mourned for the loss of her life just as though he'd known her for many years. He
was a police officer, and as such wasn't allowed to let his emotions get the best of him especially
when those emotions concerned a current case. But right now to hell with emotions and to hell
with ethics. He didn't cry outwardly, but rather inwardly. Rebekah Evans was only a few years
younger than his wife, and it disturbed him to think that someone so young and beautiful as
Rebekah Evans could be murdered in such a horrible fashion. He didn't know who would make
this woman's murder look like a suicide, but he wanted to find out and make them pay for their
crime.
Danny placed his cellphone back in his jacket pocket and leant back in his seat. He thought of
Lee and the kids. Thoughts of his niece Mijaflooded his senses as well, but the thought of the
twenty-four-year old Rebekah Evans lying in a drawer in the morg wasconstantly at the
forefront. He made up his mind and started the engine. He began to drive until he no longer saw
the city andall its skyscrapers, lights, noise, and people. When he finally stopped the car, he
climbed out and surveyed his surroundings. All seemed quiet and normal, until the peaceful
silence was shattered by the ringing of his cellphone. He grabbed it from his pocket and
answered. "Detective Woo,"
"Danny, it's Jake. I've got the information on that picture you wanted me to run. The guy's
name is Warren James. Address is 615 Chandler Ave."
"Thanks, Jake. I'll check it out." Danny had just begun to close the phone when he heard Jake
say something. "What was that?"
"I said your wife called. She wants you to call her back whenever you get a free moment. She
said it wasn't anything major, but you should call her." Jake sounded tired and worn out. Danny
could definitely understand why the rookie was as tired as he sounded, they both were.
"Thanks, Jake, see you when I get back to the office." Danny closed his phone.He placed the
phone back in his pocket and climbed back in to the car. He drove back to the city, and once
there headed for Chandler Ave. After finding Warren James' house, he gave the building the
once-over and stopped his car.
Danny approached the door and knocked. He probably should've brought backup with him,
but he didn't feel that he needed anyone at the present. If he did need someone, he knew he
could easily get a hold of Jake who was anxious to help out anyhow. He waited patiiently for
someone to answer his persistent knocking, and when the door was finally opened, Danny
found himself staring straight into the face of the man in the photograph.
"May I help you?"
"Yes sir," Danny said. He wasted no time getting down to business. "My name is Det. Woo,
and I'm with the 11thh Precinct's Homicide Division. I'm looking for a Warren James."
"I'm Warrren James. What can I do for you, Det. Woo?"
Danny quickly explained that he was there to speak to the man regarding Rebekah Evans, and
explained further that he was investigating her death. He left out the part about it being a murder,
figuring he would keep that as an ace in the hole just in case.
"Well, I knew Rebekah vary well. We were best friends for several years." Warren James
stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come on in, Det."
Danny followed the man in and waited for him to close the door behind them both. Warren
James ushered Danny into a living room and offered him a seat. Danny took one, waiting for the
younger man to take his own before continuing his questioning.
"You say that you were best friends with the victim. How long have you known Rebekah
Evans, Mr. James?"
"About nine years. We met when we were in high school. She was two years younger than me,
but three years behind me in school. I was a Senior and she was a Freshman."
Danny continued to question James for about ten minutes more before he finally said, "Does it
seem likely to you that Rebekah would've been one to commit suicide?"
Warren James' face turned ashen and his jaw dropped. "Suicide? No, not Rebekah. Not a
chance. She was the most lively person I've ever known. She has... Had a zest for life that I've
seen in vary few people. She was the type of person that saw the glass as being half full, not half
empty."
"When was the last time you'd seen Rebekah Evans, Mr. James?" Danny quipped. He
wwatched the man's face to see if he could gage any reaciton. By all appearances the man
seated only a few feet from him seemed distraught over his friend's apparent death, but Danny
wondered if there wasn't something more to it.
"I haven't seen or spoken to Rebekah in probably six months or so."
"Why is that? If you two were the best of friends, why is it that you haven't seen or spoken to
her in the last six or seven mnoths?"
Warren looked at Danny and then down at the floor. "The last time we were together,
something happened between us. Neither of us knew it would happen, but it happened just the
same. We just haven't been able to speak to one another since then."
"Can you tell me what happened?" Danny asked. He knew he was probing thin ice here, but he had to do it. "Why haven't the two of you spoken, and what happened to cause the two of
you to suddenly stop speaking?"
"The last night we were together, Rebekah and I had begun talking about past relationships the
two of us had been in and what had happened causing these relationships to fall apart. I don't
know how the topic came up, but eventually we began talking about ourselves and how we felt
toward one another. She admitted to me that she did have feelings for me, feelings deeper than
those of a friend. After that things got a little intense. We were both in to it pretty deep, and
later on I drove her home. That was the last time I saw her. I mean don't get me wrong or anything, Det. I mean we spoke a couple of times
afterwards, but the conversations were pretty superficial. She asked me how I felt and if we were still okay as friends. I told her that we were, but frankly she scared me. I never expected
her to come out and tell me how much she really cared. I told her she scared me, and I think it
really hurt her."
Danny looked at the man in front of him. Finally he asked, "Do you think that perhaps it could've hurt her enough to make her want to commit suicide?"
"No, Det. Woo, I don't believe that it would've caused her to commit suicide. Rebekah was completely, one-hundred-percent against suicide. She'd seen too much of that sort of thing related to her own family for her to ever have considered the possibility."
"Are there any family members around here that I might speak with?"
The man stared at the detective for a moment and then shook his head sadly. "Rebekah didn't have any family around here, at least nobody I knew of. I mean who could blame her for being around them, I mean after what they all did to her as a kid?" He stood from his chair and walked over to a nearby table. Lifting a small book from the table he opened it and flipped to a page. He handed it to Danny and reseated himself.
"What's this?" Danny took the book and stared at the photograph that Warren had flipped to. He stared at it and then gazed at Warren with a questioning stare.
"A picture of Rebekah and myself at the one and only family event she ever attended as long as I knew her and as long as she'd been here in New York. Things were pretty tense between her and her aunt, but I never figured the lady would up and off herself the next week... I think it really got to Rebekah though. She never spoke about it, but I just had a feeling that something was really eating at her."
Looking down at the photograph and then back at the young man Danny said softly, "I'm really sorry about your friend. I really do need to know though, Mr. James, if you can think of anyone, anyone at all, whom I might also notify of her death?"
"I'm really sorry, Det. Woo, but unfortunately I can't come up with anyone at all. Like I said the only relative I really knew of was Rebekah's aunt, and as I said before the woman committed suicide a week after that photograph was taken. After that things just became really distant between the two of us. It's partially my fault, I mean I could've made an effort to try and talk after..." He paused for a brief moment, looking at the floor in front of him. He appeared to study the ground with an intensity of someone whi was attempting to say something but not say it al at once. Finally he looked up once more and continued. "After what happened between Rebekah and myself, I acted like a childish jerk. I wish to God now that I could just make things right with her."
Danny felt sorry for this young man. Here he was, hearing the news of the death of his best friend and he was blaming himself. It was a typical reaction, one of the five stages of grief. But Danny decided that he didn't want to prolong this man's suffering any longer. Standing, he handed the photo album back over to Warren James. He smiled a sad, sympathetic little smile as he started to make his way to the door.
"I'm sorry for your loss. And if there's anything you can remember, or anything I can do, please don't hesitate to call me." Danny reached in to his pocket and pulled out a card, handing it to the young man as he turned to leave.
As Danny climbed back in to his car he couldn't help but feel more and more of the pain of the young woman's loss in his heart. He wasn't sure exactly why this case was effecting him so deeply, but he was sure that he would do everything within his power to find out exactly why Rebekah Evans had been killed. Although Warren James hadn't believed Danny's suicide theory, Danny hadn't said anything to indicate that Rebekah hadn't died as a result of suicide. Until he knew everything, he wasn't going to take any chances with this case. James seemed like an unlikely suspect, but something seemed off. If Rebekah hadn't been murdered, then where was the weapon with which she'd killed herself? And if it turned out that Rebekah had been murdered, who had murdered her and what with?