* * * *
Three Weeks Later
Mike Logan caught up to Natalie Hargraves outside of an East Forty Seventh street building and grabbed her forearm. She was walking briskly and was yanked backward when he grabbed her. Fists clenching, she turned toward her attacker, then dropped her hands and grinned slightly when she saw who it was.
"Logan," she drawled. "What are you doing here?"
"Heard there was a body," he replied.
Natalie straightened herself and nodded, "Yeah, found in the alley behind this building. Want the details?"
He nodded, watching Natalie flip through a notebook with quick, deft fingers.
"Her throat was slit. No I.D. on the body," she began, "we figure her to be approximately twenty four years old, blonde hair, green eyes. She weighs in at about one hundred and thirty pounds, five feet, seven inches tall. She was wearing a ripped grey skirt and a cardigan; a school uniform."
Mike touched her arm. "School uniform? At twenty four?"
Natalie nodded. "Ay, there's the rub."
Mike grinned slightly at her joke, then glanced back at her notebook. "Are you sure it was a school uniform? Not just similar?"
She shook her head. "It has the emblem of Upper East Side Girls' School stitched onto the front shoulder. Either she was s student there . . . still, or she was a teacher's assistant. If she was studying there to become a teacher she'd be required to wear the uniform."
"Anything else?" Mike asked.
"There was a struggle, it's very obvious. The bruises on her wrists indicate she was either tied down or someone held her down while they raped her."
"Raped too?"
Natalie nodded. "She's been raped. The evidence of a violent crime is all there; her skin is torn and bruised very badly."
"Semen?" Mike asked.
At this question Natalie sighed and shook her head. "The perpetrator used a condom. The empty wrapper was stuffed in her front pocket."
"That's new," Mike murmured. "Brand?"
"Trojan; sold in every drug store from here to Alaska."
"Figures." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Anything under her fingernails?"
Natalie sighed and shifted her gaze slightly. "That's another thing . . ."
"Yeah?" Mike prodded gently.
"She's been scrubbed clean. Her fingernails have been clipped short, scrubbed with some kind of brush with rough bristles. Her hair was washed before she was dumped, even her clothes were thrown in the washing machine. If there was anything to identify who did this to her it's all been washed away." Natalie sighed. "This guy was calm after he raped and killed her. He was unusually calm. He's crossed a line and he's not coming back."
"You think there's gonna be more?" Mike asked.
Natalie met his eyes and nodded. "I'd bet on it."
"Shit," he murmured and ran a hand through his hair. "Think he's gonna have a pattern?"
Natalie nodded again. "If he was this calm he can risk it. He's twisted Mike." She looked away, obviously worried about the future crimes.
Mike stared at her for a long moment watching the sun glint off her blonde hair. She had been called from home that morning to assist Rey at the crime scene so she was dressed in casual clothing. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. Her hair was freshly washed and hanging loosely around her face, but already the heat of the New York summer day was getting to her. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead and as she swiped unconsciously at them, Mike watched in awe. She completely captured his senses, even after all the years they'd spent apart.
"God you're beautiful," Mike said before he knew what was coming out of his mouth.
Natalie glanced at him sharply. "Don't say that."
"It's true."
Her eyes hardened. "We're on a crime scene here. A girl is dead and all you can think to say is I'm beautiful? We've been there Mike, it didn't work. You're too much of a commitment phobic for my liking. Don't start screwing with my mind again; it's over. It's been over for four years already."
Mike sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, okay?" he grunted. Without another word he spun on his heel and walked toward the crime scene.
Natalie stared after him for a long moment, then followed. She hated when he tried to involve their personal lives in their work. She had become used to it over the past year, but she still hated it. Even though their relationship had been four years ago and they had dated for just over six months, Natalie still knew how to handle Mike. Very often he couldn't handle forthright women and that was exactly what Natalie had become.
As she rounded the corner of the building and came upon the crime scene Natalie saw Mike bending over the body to snap a quick Polaroid. Without any identification they would have to pass around a photo of the girl's corpse.
Rey slid up to her a second later and touched her elbow. "Have you briefed Mike?"
Natalie nodded. "Yeah, he's got everything." She frowned slightly and rubbed her temples.
"Something wrong?" Rey asked.
"There's something missing," Natalie said, still rubbing her head. "Something about her uniform."
It was Rey's turn to frown, but before he could ask what she mean Natalie had turned toward Mike and the other officers.
"Her jacket!" she called. "Mike, take off her jacket."
Without a frown or a second glance, Mike complied and gently began to pull the dead girl's arm from her jacket.
"There," Natalie said, pointing at the girl's right arm. Stitched in black thread onto her white sweater was the name Leslie.
"We have a name," Mike murmured.
Rey smiled at Natalie. "How did you know?"
She shrugged and smiled back. "I have very rich parents. You're looking at a 1995 Upper East Side Girls' School graduate. And here I though that expensive education had been useless."
"You were wrong," Mike said, standing. "Nice call Nat." He grinned and squeezed her shoulder before walking back to Lennie and his car.
Rey couldn't help but notice Mike's use of a nickname and the suppressed smile on Natalie's face. Their relationship may have been in the past, but regardless of their insults and sarcastic comments thrown at each other there was something that still burned between them. Normally something like that wouldn't bother Rey but he had the sudden, sinking feeling that Mike and Natalie would let their personal issues interfere with their work.
He wondered for a moment if he should voice these concerns to Natalie, but Mike was back before he could decide on what to do.
"Lennie wants to head back to the two-seven and get started on finding connections to any past, unsolved rapes we've had. I thought I'd get to the school first and see what I could find out about Leslie here," Mike said. "Wanna come Nat?"
She nodded. "Sure, I know the school and the teachers. It'll help to have me there."
Rey touched her arm again. "I'll go back with Lennie. See what Van Buren thinks about the possibility of a serial rapist here."
Natalie nodded, then walked back toward her car with Mike at her side. Rey hated suspecting they would use this chance to talk about their past, but he wanted to test them. If they could work alone together then he could be sure everything would turn out for the best.
* * * *
Three Weeks Later
Mike Logan caught up to Natalie Hargraves outside of an East Forty Seventh street building and grabbed her forearm. She was walking briskly and was yanked backward when he grabbed her. Fists clenching, she turned toward her attacker, then dropped her hands and grinned slightly when she saw who it was.
"Logan," she drawled. "What are you doing here?"
"Heard there was a body," he replied.
Natalie straightened herself and nodded, "Yeah, found in the alley behind this building. Want the details?"
He nodded, watching Natalie flip through a notebook with quick, deft fingers.
"Her throat was slit. No I.D. on the body," she began, "we figure her to be approximately twenty four years old, blonde hair, green eyes. She weighs in at about one hundred and thirty pounds, five feet, seven inches tall. She was wearing a ripped grey skirt and a cardigan; a school uniform."
Mike touched her arm. "School uniform? At twenty four?"
Natalie nodded. "Ay, there's the rub."
Mike grinned slightly at her joke, then glanced back at her notebook. "Are you sure it was a school uniform? Not just similar?"
She shook her head. "It has the emblem of Upper East Side Girls' School stitched onto the front shoulder. Either she was s student there . . . still, or she was a teacher's assistant. If she was studying there to become a teacher she'd be required to wear the uniform."
"Anything else?" Mike asked.
"There was a struggle, it's very obvious. The bruises on her wrists indicate she was either tied down or someone held her down while they raped her."
"Raped too?"
Natalie nodded. "She's been raped. The evidence of a violent crime is all there; her skin is torn and bruised very badly."
"Semen?" Mike asked.
At this question Natalie sighed and shook her head. "The perpetrator used a condom. The empty wrapper was stuffed in her front pocket."
"That's new," Mike murmured. "Brand?"
"Trojan; sold in every drug store from here to Alaska."
"Figures." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Anything under her fingernails?"
Natalie sighed and shifted her gaze slightly. "That's another thing . . ."
"Yeah?" Mike prodded gently.
"She's been scrubbed clean. Her fingernails have been clipped short, scrubbed with some kind of brush with rough bristles. Her hair was washed before she was dumped, even her clothes were thrown in the washing machine. If there was anything to identify who did this to her it's all been washed away." Natalie sighed. "This guy was calm after he raped and killed her. He was unusually calm. He's crossed a line and he's not coming back."
"You think there's gonna be more?" Mike asked.
Natalie met his eyes and nodded. "I'd bet on it."
"Shit," he murmured and ran a hand through his hair. "Think he's gonna have a pattern?"
Natalie nodded again. "If he was this calm he can risk it. He's twisted Mike." She looked away, obviously worried about the future crimes.
Mike stared at her for a long moment watching the sun glint off her blonde hair. She had been called from home that morning to assist Rey at the crime scene so she was dressed in casual clothing. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. Her hair was freshly washed and hanging loosely around her face, but already the heat of the New York summer day was getting to her. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead and as she swiped unconsciously at them, Mike watched in awe. She completely captured his senses, even after all the years they'd spent apart.
"God you're beautiful," Mike said before he knew what was coming out of his mouth.
Natalie glanced at him sharply. "Don't say that."
"It's true."
Her eyes hardened. "We're on a crime scene here. A girl is dead and all you can think to say is I'm beautiful? We've been there Mike, it didn't work. You're too much of a commitment phobic for my liking. Don't start screwing with my mind again; it's over. It's been over for four years already."
Mike sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, okay?" he grunted. Without another word he spun on his heel and walked toward the crime scene.
Natalie stared after him for a long moment, then followed. She hated when he tried to involve their personal lives in their work. She had become used to it over the past year, but she still hated it. Even though their relationship had been four years ago and they had dated for just over six months, Natalie still knew how to handle Mike. Very often he couldn't handle forthright women and that was exactly what Natalie had become.
As she rounded the corner of the building and came upon the crime scene Natalie saw Mike bending over the body to snap a quick Polaroid. Without any identification they would have to pass around a photo of the girl's corpse.
Rey slid up to her a second later and touched her elbow. "Have you briefed Mike?"
Natalie nodded. "Yeah, he's got everything." She frowned slightly and rubbed her temples.
"Something wrong?" Rey asked.
"There's something missing," Natalie said, still rubbing her head. "Something about her uniform."
It was Rey's turn to frown, but before he could ask what she mean Natalie had turned toward Mike and the other officers.
"Her jacket!" she called. "Mike, take off her jacket."
Without a frown or a second glance, Mike complied and gently began to pull the dead girl's arm from her jacket.
"There," Natalie said, pointing at the girl's right arm. Stitched in black thread onto her white sweater was the name Leslie.
"We have a name," Mike murmured.
Rey smiled at Natalie. "How did you know?"
She shrugged and smiled back. "I have very rich parents. You're looking at a 1995 Upper East Side Girls' School graduate. And here I though that expensive education had been useless."
"You were wrong," Mike said, standing. "Nice call Nat." He grinned and squeezed her shoulder before walking back to Lennie and his car.
Rey couldn't help but notice Mike's use of a nickname and the suppressed smile on Natalie's face. Their relationship may have been in the past, but regardless of their insults and sarcastic comments thrown at each other there was something that still burned between them. Normally something like that wouldn't bother Rey but he had the sudden, sinking feeling that Mike and Natalie would let their personal issues interfere with their work.
He wondered for a moment if he should voice these concerns to Natalie, but Mike was back before he could decide on what to do.
"Lennie wants to head back to the two-seven and get started on finding connections to any past, unsolved rapes we've had. I thought I'd get to the school first and see what I could find out about Leslie here," Mike said. "Wanna come Nat?"
She nodded. "Sure, I know the school and the teachers. It'll help to have me there."
Rey touched her arm again. "I'll go back with Lennie. See what Van Buren thinks about the possibility of a serial rapist here."
Natalie nodded, then walked back toward her car with Mike at her side. Rey hated suspecting they would use this chance to talk about their past, but he wanted to test them. If they could work alone together then he could be sure everything would turn out for the best.
* * * *