Rachel walked into Boston PD's headquarters and showed her badge and ID to the uniform on duty. Taking the stairs up to the third floor, the burglary unit, Rachel went to the conference room, which was now her temporary office, sat her coffee down and flopped in the large leather chair. She looked at all the documents in front of her and sighed. This was going to be a pain in the ass case, because no one in their right mind would try to pawn or sell these jewels unless it was overseas. She was going to make herself calm down, or there was no way she would be effective in searching for why these jewels and map were taken. In her mind, this was the main crime, not the murder of the security guard, Sam Evans. He was unfortunately a secondary crime, because Rachel was one hundred percent sure that he wasn't the target, the jewels and map were.
Settling back in her chair, Rachel took calm, deep breaths and closed her eyes to clear her mind, but it seemed that her mind had something else in mind. She could see Finn Hudson in her mind's eye, and his lopsided grin he had given her several times. It was definitely cute. If she was being honest, he was very cute; deep brown hair that stuck up a little in the front, friendly brown eyes, freckles that made him look younger than he was, dimples when he smiled, large hands that enveloped hers and he was a good foot taller than she was, so probably around 6'3". Shaking her head of her thoughts, she clicked open the pdf files she was sent on the map and jewels and quickly sent out bulletins to all pawn shops and dealers, both public and private.
With her first net cast out, Rachel opened up one of the files on the map. Pulling out a copy of the map, Rachel looked over it carefully. It appeared to be from around 1585 and from the names, looked to be a map from Sir Francis Drake. Running her hands over the copy, Rachel mused over how close to accurate the map was of the west coast. It had always amazed her how people drew maps without the help or airplanes, cameras or satellites. Looking carefully Rachel couldn't find any valuable information on it, other than the mark of where Sir Francis Drake landed to replenish his supplies and give his crew a break. There was some monetary value in the map, but it would be more attractive to a history buff then anything, and Rachel couldn't see any history buff willing to commit murder over a map.
Grabbing the second folder of insurance papers, she saw that the insurance company had valued it at $50,000, and while that was a lot of money, for a true collector, it would have been worth it. As she grabbed the first binder that dealt with the jewels, her commander, Will Schuester walked in. "Hey Rachel, how's it going on the Adams' case?"
Rachel looked at Will and smiled while shaking her head back and forth, "I can totally understand a motive to steal the jewels, they are worth according to the insurance over two million dollars, but the map, that's perplexing. The value is $50,000, and it's more valuable as a historical piece than anything else, not something I can see someone wanting to kill someone over."
Will nodded his head in agreement but looked at his junior detective with a sage appearance, "Remember though, people of been killed for a lot less and it was all because someone had what they wanted." With that he curly haired man walked out to check on his other detectives. Rachel knew that he was right, but still, it just didn't seem to fit.
Going over the known history of the jewels that were taken, Rachel took notes and then when the jewels had been worn out in public by one of the Adams clan, since there was jewelry for both men and women. Going back just one year, Rachel saw pieces had been worn to a total of twenty events and if you add everyone the attended those events with the Adams, Rachel's suspect list just exploded into mind numbing proportions.
She needed a break, she had been pouring over all the paperwork for several hours and needed to get up and stretch, clear her mind so she could focus on the case better. Making a note to call the Adams for an interview, she placed it on her seat and walked out of the conference room. She was greeted by several other detectives. As she stopped by the vending machine to get water she heard a uniform, Santana Lopez and a crime lab tech, Suzy Pepper, talking to each other. Not wanting to be a snoop, but still being a snoop, Rachel couldn't help but hear their conversation, since they weren't necessarily quiet about it.
"…I can't believe that they gave such a plum assignment to that midget." Rachel heard the Latina say with a sneer in her voice.
"I know, no one in the lab likes her. She always acts like she is superior and is always pointing out mistakes or telling us how to do something better." Rachel could pick out Pepper's voice anywhere. Well if you actually knew what you were doing, I wouldn't be saying anything, now would I?
"Well, I heard that Schuester didn't have a choice, she was next on the on call list, and the Adams case happened. She totally lucked into it. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't get reassigned and they put someone who actually can interact with others on it or at least be able to interview and investigate without pissing off the victims." With that statement Rachel heard both women laugh, causing her heart to drop.
Not bothering to go back and get her purse or anything, Rachel walked down the stairs and out of the building. She needed to refresh herself and give herself a pep talk. She was an excellent detective and generally she did the research and background on the cases and a senior detective did the field work, but it was Rachel's turn and she wanted to show the division that she was capable. As the harbor came up on her, she went to the small park where office workers would sit and have their lunches. A bench shielded by a willow tree was the perfect place for her to calm down and collect her thoughts. What the uniform and tech had said was extremely hurtful; Rachel knew she would rise above it, because she always has.
She needed a little bit of seclusion and the willow tree hidden bench allowed for that. She sat down and took sips of her water while she listened to the waves of the Atlantic Ocean and the cries of the seagulls surround her. The smell of salt water overtook her as she just sat there, letting nature take her over and calm her down. Rachel knew she was an overly emotional person, but she was smart enough to realize it and had learned how to center herself. Rachel sat there, just staying quiet, listening to the sounds around her, silent tears slipping down her face. Even if she was a strong woman, it still hurt like hell to be made fun of, something she had dealt with her entire life, and the tears just kept coming.
Then she heard it. The sound of someone on a run, their breath huffing in exertion, their feet thumping rhythmically on the pavement. From the thumps, Rachel could tell this runner was in good shape and probably ran a five to six minute mile. As the thumping and huffing got closer to her shielded bench, she noticed it slow down.
Movement drew her eye to her left as the lacey leaves of the willow tree were pushed back revealing the man she had met in the early morning hours at Starbucks, Finn Hudson. Only this Finn was hot and sweaty wearing a pair of Navy PT shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt drenched in sweat, his hair stuck to his head in a swirly pattern.
"Sorry miss…umm Rachel, Rachel Berry? That's you, right?" Finn asked her, taking in her appearance, recognition clear in his eyes.
"Hello Finn Hudson. What brings you here, after apparently running?" She asked, trying not to stare at his arms that were, as some of the other detectives would say, huge guns.
"Needed to get rid of some stress, just got chewed out by my boss and had what I worked on taken away from me because I "wasn't ready yet" according to her. She gave it to a guy that kisses her ass all the time. Which sucks since I know I'm ready and I was going to blow everyone out of the water, instead, I'm back being a peon. So instead of killing furniture this time around, I'm killing the pavement." Rachel watched him sit down next to her and take a drink from the camelback he had. His mouth set in a grimace as he looked out at the harbor.
"So, you run to calm yourself down?" Rachel wanted to make conversation with him, but felt very shy around Finn.
She watched him rub the back of his neck as if he were in deep thought, "Well…yes and no. I learned to do this in the Navy, because I didn't feel like having the DoD take part of my paycheck for me to pay for destroying equipment in fits of anger. See, I have a tendency to bottle all my emotions up, and kinda like shaking pop, when I've taken everything I can, I blow up, and in high school I destroyed a copier, several chairs, a couple of doors and who knows how many lockers. As my mom has always said, I have anger management problems, so now I run. Running shoes are a hell of a lot cheaper than a copier." Finn grinned at Rachel and she couldn't help but grin in return, his was that infectious. "So what brings you out here, hiding under this willow tree?"
"Been looking at so much research that I needed to clear my mind. It was too jumbled with names, dates, numbers, carats, place of origin and just tons of more stuff like that, so I came out here to calm down and replenish my soul. Whenever I get upset or too bogged down I like to come and just be a part of nature, you know. Even though nature is this huge complex living thing, it always comes down to appearing simple and serene, and I just need that, because it's like what I do, I have to take these really complex things and essentially break them down to something that appears simple. It's a nice metaphor for me. And what about you Finn, why do you come outside, beside to run?" She looked at him keenly; trying to remember everything he did and said, because she felt it was important.
She saw him shrug as if it wasn't a big deal, "I'm a country boy from Ohio. I either spent all my time playing video games or outside doing something whether it was sports or camping or just lying on the grass and taking a nap. I guess that's why I never broke things at home when I got angry, I'd just leave and go to the woods or go to the backyard and just lie there. But for me, it just makes me realize that the world is a much bigger place and me being angry wasn't really a big deal in the whole scheme of things, ya know?" Rachel watched Finn; he had a far off look in his eyes as he talked, like he was back in his backyard. Smiling a little, she tucked her hair behind her ears and placed her hand on top of his.
"I understand perfectly. But I need to get back, because if I'm not doing my job, then it isn't going to get done. It was nice seeing you again Finn. Bye." And with a wave of her hand, Rachel left Finn sitting under the willow tree branches.
When she walked back to headquarters, she kept glancing to where she had just been with Finn. As she came up the stairs she heard the voice of her commander loud and clear, "I don't care what you say, Rachel Berry is the lead on this case and she will see it through! She has earned this, and you aren't going to take it away!" Rachel could only guess that Will was yelling at the Police Chief Rod Remington. Remington was a pompous ass in Rachel's opinion, but she kept it to herself, she didn't need to get demoted.
Taking the handle in her hand, Rachel opened the door and smiled as both men looked at her. She heard Remington address her in his loud voice, "Berry, where are you on the Adams' theft? You should be on this case twenty four hours a day! Why are you away from the conference room? If you screw this up, you're going to be back walking a beat!" Rachel pulled back as Remington stuck his finger at her, his face red.
As he stalked off, leaving Rachel and Will standing by the stairs, Rachel looked at Will and gave a knowing smirk, "Adams are a big political contributor aren't they?"
She saw Will nod his head in agreement, "Yes, they contribute a lot of money to the mayoral campaign and the mayor appoints the chief of police so…"
Rachel held up her hand in acknowledgment, "I understand completely. I'm going right now to set up an interview with the Adams. I need more information on what was taken. All they gave me was history, which isn't helping me out in motive for the heist."
Will patted her shoulder in a fatherly manner and quietly said, "Good girl. Keep up the work and just remember, be nice and calm when you talk to the Adams. They just had a traumatizing murder and theft on their property while they were home. Just remember, be calm and understanding. I believe in you."
Rachel walked into the conference room and saw her pink post-it note sitting on her chair, and knew she was going to make Will proud as she picked up the phone and called the Adams, telling them she would be there in an hour to get some more information from them and ask a few questions.
Feeling positive with how this was going to turn out, Rachel decided she needed to freshen up since she was wearing the same thing since one in the morning. Going to her cubicle, she grabbed her extra set of clothes she kept there and went downstairs to the locker room for a shower.
An hour later, Rachel pulled up to the gate of the Adams' estate to a uniform standing guard and checking identification. "Afternoon Detective Berry. Looks like you may have to wait your turn, a reporter arrived just before you, and he has an appointment too. I think you talked to the Mrs. and he talked to the Mr., anyway, have a good interview Detective." He tipped his hat and waved Rachel on through the gate. She wasn't going to let the news of a reporter already there ruin her interview.
Rachel pulled her car up by a red truck that was parked on the cobblestone driveway. Taking a calming breath and pulling out the folder she had that contained her questions and pictures she needed, she stepped out looked around the estate. It was spectacular, and screamed of wealth and privilege, but still very simple and comfortable looking. There were children's toys littering the front lawn, for their grandchildren, spring flowers were dotting the lawn and flower beds. Rachel looked at saw where the earth had been turned over at the side yard for a spring garden. Rachel smiled thinking that this is the type of house she would have if she ever had the chance, not the estate, but a house that was homey and inviting, just like this. As she approached the front door, it opened immediately and there stood Mrs. Abigail Adams, a striking woman only a little taller than Rachel, but with blond and white hair that was pulled back into a soft bun, and striking green eyes. Her cheekbones and sharp nose gave her the air of a classic beauty, but the smile she bestowed upon Rachel was warm and inviting.
Rachel stepped in and shook Mrs. Adams hand as she was led to a large country styled kitchen. She watched as Mrs. Adams went a grabbed a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator as she sat down at the table, pulling out her file from her tote. Taking of offered tea, Rachel blew out a breath, remembering what Will had said, be nice Rachel, I believe in you, and started her questioning, "First Mrs. Adams, I am very sorry for what happened this morning. How long did Mr. Evans work for you?"
"He'd been here for about a year. He was a college student and being our night security guard helped him pay for college. He was such a nice boy. I felt awful calling his family in Tennessee to tell them what had happened. Jonathan and I are paying for his body to be transported back to his hometown, as well as the cost of the funeral. I just feel it's our fault that all of this happened." Rachel saw tears spring up in Mrs. Adams eyes, so she covered the older lady's hand in a comforting manner.
"I know this is hard, but I need more information on what Mr. Evans was guarding. I'm having a hard time coming up with a motive as to why someone would go after the best known jewels in Massachusetts. I'm hoping you can help me out with that because if had just been for money, then there are plenty of jewelry stores that could have been knocked over. So do you have any idea as to why?"
"I honestly don't know Detective Berry. Our collection is worth quite a bit of money, but it's also been in this family for generations. Every generation adds its own piece, and the oldest piece comes from England, before the Adams ever came to America, so I don't know what to tell you."
"Is there any significance to any of the pieces, something that may make one more special, unique above the rest?" Rachel was getting frustrated, but wasn't going to show it. She had to be nice and understanding, nice and understanding, nice and understanding she kept mentally looped through her brain.
"I know one of the sapphire pieces, which are our oldest, is believed to have come as a gift from Sir Francis Drake, but there is nothing that shows that it actually came from him. There were no papers or anything stating that. It's just family legend, not something that we made public." Sir Francis Drake, the same as the map.
"The map that was taken was the map created by Sir Francis Drake on his exploration of the west coast, do the jewelry piece and map have any connection? " Rachel was getting excited; this was the information she needed.
"I'm sorry, but as far as I know. No. My husband's great grandfather bought the map at auction when he was younger. He wanted it just to compliment that fact that we have a jewel from Sir Francis Drake, but that would be the only connection I know. I know that isn't a lot, but no one has taken any sudden interest in our collection or has asked us about selling the pieces, since it is expressly forbidden by the wills. So we would never think of selling it." Rachel finished writing down her notes and looked at Mrs. Adams with a smile.
As she sat and chatted politely with Abigail Adams about the house and nibbled on the snack of fresh cut vegetables and drank her tea, Rachel heard voices from the other room coming closer. One voice sounded familiar, and as she tried to place the voice, the owner came into view along with Jonathan Adams. The inquisitive voice belonged to none other than the man she had already met twice that day, but this time, he was wearing a lanyard that showed his occupation, Boston Herald Reporter. With those three words around his neck, any nicety she had towards Finn Hudson left. Rachel loathed reporters, they had a good way of screwing up investigations and letting out information that they shouldn't.
She watched as Finn stopped and stared at her, recognition and then embarrassment, clear in his soft russet colored eyes. She felt bad for about a minute, but then gave him a fake smile and introduced herself all the while fuming on the inside for the deception. She watched in awe though as he easily introduced himself to Mrs. Adams and smiled as she offered him iced tea and a snack too. As the four made small pleasantries, Rachel all the while was stewing, how dare he mess up my investigation? Just who does he think he is, just because I was nice to him twice doesn't mean I'm going to let him in on any "insider" information.
As she and Finn left the house and walked to their respective cars, Rachel whirled around, anger clearly evident in her eyes as she watched Finn take a step back from her, his hands up defensively in front of him. "How dare you try to use me!" She hissed, slapping him hard across his face, leaving a clear imprint of her small hand on his cheek.
"What do you mean "use you?" Finn asked, backing up slightly holding his hand to his face. The crazed look in her brown eyes was freaking him out as he eyed her right hand warily.
"You reporters are all alike. Make friends with the cop and they'll give you a lead. I'm not stupid. I know how it works." She jabbed her finger into his chest, making her point clear.
"Look, I was just being nice to you. We were both just blowing off some steam at the park and trying to relax. I didn't run into you intentionally. My mom always taught me to treat women nicely and with respect! And this morning at Starbucks, there was nowhere else to sit!" he cried, bumbling his way through an explanation
"Right. Like I'm going to take your word for it. Maybe I should get that in writing," she said sarcastically.
"Look, I didn't know you were a cop. I just thought you were someone that worked nearby. I swear!" She could see the confusion on his face as he talked, but she knew it was only a ploy to suck her into his charm, use her and then dump her.
"I've been down this road before buddy. If you think for one minute that I'm going to let you hold me back and get in my way, you've got another thing coming. I will destroy you before I let that happen, " she replied, her voice deadly serious, her eyes blazing with anger.
"Rachel. I don't know what you think is going on, but I'm just doing my job now and I was only being a friend towards you. I didn't know-" Finn responded, his fingers playing with the hem of his t-shirt nervously.
She started jabbing her finger into his chest again as she spoke, "Don't play dumb with me. Every time I think I'm going to get my break on a big case, some reporter comes and screws it up for me! I'm not going to let that happen. I'm going to report you to your editor Finn Hudson, Boston Herald Reporter!" She hadn't realized her voice rose considerably, and she didn't see Mr. and Mrs. Adams watching the exchange from the front window. She gave him once last glance of pure loathing before pulling out quickly, actually squealing the tires, and leaving a confused Finn in her wake. Rachel raced back to headquarters, only to find Will standing in the conference room, an upset look on his face.
Before she could set her tote down Will was already talking, "Rachel, I just got off the phone with a very upset Chief Remington, any idea why?" Will was staring at Rachel, disappointment clear on his face.
All she could do was look down at her shoes, not wanting to say it, but knowing she had to, "I screwed up. I had a great interview with Mrs. Adams and then I found out a reporter was there and when we left the house, I yelled at him in the driveway, and the Adams probably heard me." Rachel could feel the cold shame overtake her as once again; she had let her pride and competitiveness get in the way of her job.
"I'm sorry Rachel and you did more than that, you slapped him," as he revealed that bit of information, she lifted her head sharply, looking at him intently, "so I have to take you off the case. I'm giving it to Lauren Zizes, even though she is the scariest thing on her our department; she can handle herself in public. I'm going to need your notes and all evidence that you have. I was able to talk Chief Remington out of demoting you, but you're on probation and any, and I mean any screw up and you are back in uniform walking the streets. I'm sorry Rachel." As he finished, Rachel sat down the notes she had just taken and grabbed her personal things and walked out of the conference room, her head held high, even though all she wanted to do was cry.
Grabbing a few things from her desk, she went to Will's office and entered Will's office without knocking and looked him straight in the eye and used her most confident voice, "Will, I'm taking three weeks' vacation starting tomorrow. I need it. I'll e-mail you my exact return tonight. See you in about three weeks." With that she walked out not looking at any of her colleagues, even though she felt all of their eyes on her.
She gripped her tote tightly that contained her flash drive that had copies of all the documents Lauren had, and her notes she had typed up after handing them over to Will. She was going to solve this crime on her own, and nothing was going to stop her.
