Disclaimer: All original characters and such belong to NBC. I own the characters I created as well as the new plot.
Summary: Elliot and Olivia respond when a teenage girl is attacked by a serial rapist. Her medical exam, however, brings another crime to light and starts them on a complicated path for justice…
Chronology: No specific time; current season possibly
Pairings: None right now.
Rating: T for situations and probably some mild cursing.
Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long, and I apologize for the liberties I'm taking with NYC housing and addresses and such. I felt like you needed an update more than perfectly exact details. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!
Subconscious
Lenox Hill Hospital
100 East 77th Street
Tuesday, May 3
7:33 a.m.
Olivia and Elliot returned to Sophie's room about half an hour later after alerting Cragen, Munch, and Fin to the resurfacing of the Scenic Route Rapist. Everyone back at the precinct was on high alert and an APB had been issued for the vehicle the teenager had described to them.
"Hey Sophie," Olivia greeted her. "You gave us some great information and the rest of our squad is working on it right now."
The teenage girl smiled in relief. "Already?"
"Already."
"Thank you."
"Thank you," Elliot replied. "That guy is a very dangerous man, and you did everything right to save yourself and help us track him down."
Olivia smiled and nodded at the girl, then shared a look with Elliot before switching topics. "Now, Sophie…We really need to talk to your parents. Are they at work?"
"No, they work from home."
"They must be worried about you."
"Not yet. I'm not usually home from my run yet."
"We'll still need to tell them what happened."
"I think one of the nurses already did that."
"Louisa?"
"No, another nurse. He had reddish hair and looked really young."
Elliot nodded. "Ok. I'm going to go talk to him and see if he got a hold of them."
When her partner had left the room, Olivia turned back to the teenager and smiled, fishing around for a safe way to discuss her injuries. "So…you like to run?"
She nodded, a shy smile lighting up her features. "It's nice to get out and see the city, and I make great time. I'm not very good at sports in general, but I'm a good runner."
"Are you on the track team at school?"
"No, I'm home-schooled."
"How come?"
"My parents think I'll get a better education at home than in an overcrowded public school."
Olivia smiled. "They may have a point about that. Do you like being home-schooled?"
"It's ok I guess. I don't really know anything different."
"What about friends? Who do you hang around with?"
Sophie licked her lips somewhat nervously and turned her head away before she answered, "Nobody, really."
"Nobody? Not even…your neighbors? The other teenagers in your building?"
"No…"
"How come?"
She took her time answering. "I'm…not…very social." Everything about her, from her lack of eye contact to her posture to the way she fiddled with her nails, said she was lying. Olivia chose not to press the issue just then.
"Sophie…why did you go jogging in jeans this morning?"
"I do it every morning."
"You jog in jeans?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Shorts are immodest."
Olivia tried not to look shocked. "Why?"
"Too much skin. Encourages things."
"Well, what about jogging pants, or sweatpants? Wouldn't they be more comfortable?"
"They aren't good for working in."
"What do you mean, working in?"
"Working. Cleaning, sorting, gardening—things that need done. They're hard to accomplish properly in clothes that aren't sturdy. That's why I wear jeans." She was staring straight ahead, at an empty spot on the wall, and her words lacked any real conviction.
"Ok…" Olivia didn't want to press the issue, but there was something very strange going on. "You're not working when you're jogging, though."
"One should always be prepared." Her eyes widened a fraction and her hands shook, probably because what had happened that morning wasn't something one could prepare for.
The officer brushed some of her short brown hair behind one ear and nodded as she tried to compose her next line of questioning in a way that the girl wouldn't shut down. "Sophie…" she began hesitantly. "Do you…ever play sports?"
Sophie finally focused her gaze back on Olivia, instead of at the wall. "What do you mean?"
"Well, do you ever play basketball in the park, or maybe soccer?"
"I don't really have friends…" Her voice held a hint of wariness.
"That's the beauty of city parks," Olivia smiled, trying to put her at ease with friendliness. "You don't really have to have anybody to play with—there's usually a group of strangers that just make up an impromptu team."
Sophie slowly shook her head. "No…I don't play sports. I run."
"Ok. What about…have you ever been in a car accident?"
She frowned. "No, never. We don't have a car."
"All right. What about another type of accident? Have you ever fallen off a ladder or down some stairs?"
She shook her head, now looking truly worried. "No. Why, what's going on?"
"Well, there were some old injuries on your X-rays, and we're not sure where they came from."
After nearly ten minutes of waiting and multiple questionings, a woman at the nurses' station was finally able to tell Elliot which nurse he needed to look for. He met up with him outside the pediatric unit.
"Kyle Vincent?"
The young man turned around. "Yes officer?"
"I've been told that you were the one attempting to make contact with Sophie Morse's parents."
"Yes sir."
"Did you?"
"I've called six times at intervals of five, ten, and twenty minutes, but I keep getting a 'number disconnected message'. No one's picking up."
Elliot frowned. "Ok…do you have the number?"
The nurse retrieved a small piece of blue paper from his pocket. "This is it."
"And you're sure it's right?"
He held up his hands. "It's what the girl told me."
"Ok, thanks. I'll keep trying."
Kyle Vincent nodded and headed down the hallway.
"I dunno Elliot…it's so strange. She's doing everything but throw damn Bible verses at me, but even she looks like she knows it's a bunch of crap."
Olivia stood with her partner outside of the girl's recovery room as he punched the phone number on the scrap of paper into his cell. "You think they're some sort of religious weirdos?"
"Maybe…I don't know. She never actually mentioned religion, so it could just be some twisted sense of a work ethic. Although she said that too much skin 'encouraged things'."
Elliot stopped dialing. "Do you think she blames herself for the attack?"
"I don't think so. The way she was talking, her outfit is plenty modest. But again, the whole time she's giving me this spiel or manifesto or whatever, she's staring off into space with this look on her face. I think she was just repeating what her parents have been drilling into her head for the past fifteen years and trying to pretend like they were her beliefs too. And get this." She leaned in towards Elliot, keeping one eye on the door to the recovery room. "By her own admission, she's got no friends, no life outside her house, doesn't even know anybody else in their building."
He frowned and finished entering the numbers into his phone. "Something is definitely up in that house. Let's see what mommy and daddy have to say." He waited as the call rang through and then frowned some more. "Number disconnected," he repeated aloud for Olivia's benefit. He tried twice more before conceding to defeat. "The nurse was right. Something is definitely going on here. I think we need to take a little road trip out there, see what's up."
Olivia's cell rang before she could do more than nod in reply. She flipped it open and pressed it to her ear, placing her free hand over her other ear as a medical cart rattled by. "Detective Benson. Yes chief." Her eyes widened as she listened to the half of the conversation Elliot couldn't hear. "And you're absolutely sure? Right, right. Yeah, we'll be right there." She glanced up at Elliot, then back towards the room. "I can probably get her released in a couple hours. It sounded like the doctors wanted to keep an eye on her. No. Yeah, we think we're gonna have to drop by the address, see what's going on. Ok, yeah, we'll be right there."
Her partner tipped his head towards her in expectation.
"That was Cragen," she said, snapping her phone closed and slipping it into her pocket. "They picked up a guy who matches all known descriptions of the Scenic Route Rapist, especially the details Sophie gave us."
"What?"
"Yep. They're waiting for us back at the station to interrogate him."
"So we leave her here?"
"Well, I am going to go talk to her doctor and see if they'll release her now to make an I.D. If not, we interrogate him, hopefully get a confession, drop by Sophie's place, see what these parents of hers are like, then hopefully by that time she'll be ready to come pick him out of a lineup. Even if we get a confession, it'll make the case that much stronger."
27th Precinct
Interrogation Room 1
Tuesday, May 3
9:44 am
The doctor wanted to keep Sophie at least a few more hours to make absolutely certain that she wasn't suffering some hidden injury from the attack, so Olivia and Elliot were back at the station ten minutes later, watching as Fin wrestled a guy of medium build with close-cropped blond hair and silver glasses into an interrogation room.
"I didn't do anything!" he squealed.
"The hell you didn't," Fin said. "Sit down, scumbag."
"Hey Fin," Elliot said with a grin. "Where'd you find this guy?"
"Watchin' girls from behind a tree in the park," Fin replied, clearly disgusted. "Takin' pictures, too."
"I was birdwatching!" the man insisted.
"Birdwatchin' my ass," the detective commented.
"Got anything to say for yourself, Mr…?" Olivia looked at Fin for an answer.
He tossed a wallet in an evidence bag on the table in front of them. "Gordon Wallace."
"I didn't do anything!" he insisted.
Olivia and Elliot shared a silent look, agreeing with one another that this guy was full of crap and matched every description they'd heard of the Scenic Route Rapist.
"Got another present for you guys," Fin continued. He reached behind him and pulled out another evidence bag. "This one might be my favorite." He swung it by one corner, and then tossed it to Elliot.
Elliot caught it easily, and with a smile. He showed it to the room. "Nice pink iPod," he announced with a sarcastic grin. "With an adorable Scooby-Doo sticker on the back. You know, this looks strangely similar to the description of a missing iPod I just got… "
Gordon Wallace seemed to lose the ability to speak for a moment.
"Took this off Sophie Morse, huh?"
The suspect remained silent, growing surly.
"Well that's just fine," Olivia commented breezily with a smile. "We've got your prints and your DNA and we'll just wait for it match the evidence in all those cases we have pending."
Gordon's eyes widened but he kept his mouth shut.
"C'mon Gordon, nothing you want to say?" Elliot teased.
"No alibi?" Liv asked.
"I want a lawyer," he finally sputtered.
"You're gonna need one," Fin said.
"Ah, c'mon Gordon. You don't wanna talk to us?" Elliot smiled.
He'd resumed his silence.
Liv looked at her partner and shrugged. "Works for me. Let's go."
The three of them left the room, leaving Gordon Wallace fidgeting in the interview room, eyes darting around the space nervously. "We've got him," Elliot confirmed unnecessarily.
"It's just a matter of time," Fin agreed. "Once those samples get run a jury's gonna throw away the key. Look, I've got things handled here if he ain't gonna talk. Cragen said you two were gonna head over to that girl's place since her parents weren't answering the phone."
"Sounds great," Olivia said, grabbing her jacket off a chair. "Thanks Fin!"
Apartment of Morse Family
103 South 81st Street
Tuesday, May 3
10:22 am
The address they had led them to a nondescript red-brown series of small apartment-like houses squished together, with a small garage to one side and a small yard enclosed by a tall wooden fence on either side. Olivia and Elliot left their car slowly, taking in every detail they could. Olivia led the way up the small set of stairs to number 103. She knocked on the door, waited, rang the bell, waited, and tried knocking again.
There was no response.
She was frowning, about to try the bell again, when Elliot tugged on her sleeve. "Liv, look at this." He pointed at the window to the right of the door. They had to lean over the stair railing to get a glimpse inside, but that glimpse was telling.
"Everything's gone," she said as she leaned over the rail in imitation of him, her eyes wide with surprise. From the little they could see inside the house, there was no furniture, no carpet, no knickknacks on the walls. But there also wasn't any dust or indication that the dwelling had been like this long. It looked like everything had been abruptly sucked out by a tornado.
They merely stood looking around for a minute or two, before Olivia asked her partner, "Do you smell something burning?"
He sniffed the air, as did she, and they peered carefully at the house, but the smell did not seem to be coming from inside. "It's close by," he said with a frown.
"I think I see smoke," she added, and pointed. "I think it's coming from the side yard."
They rushed down the steps around to the fence that separated the sidewalk from the side yard. Elliot tried the gate, half-expecting to have to scale the fence, but it opened easily. They drew their guns as a precaution, nodded in agreement to one another, and rushed through.
The yard was made up of patchy, pathetically green-yellow grass, and empty minus a half of a metal drum with wisps of gray smoke rising from it. They approached it with caution, but when they peered over, they found that it was barely burning.
They recognized photos of Sophie on top of a pile of papers.
"Quick, get everything out there," Olivia instructed, already reaching into the drum with her bare hands. She batted at the small flames to extinguish them.
Elliot reached in to help, and between the two of them they lifted four armfuls of material out of the drum. They patted out a few more embers and picked some large rocks out of the yard to hold the stacks down. Then they stood quietly for a moment, uncomprehending, surveying photos of Sophie, artwork that could only be from a child, papers with her name on them, and what looked like a birth certificate and a social security card.
"What the hell is going on?" Olivia asked.
Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me! Hope you enjoyed, and it would be great to hear from you.
