A/N: Whew, ok second chapter - a little bit of Naomily in this one and don't lie...that's the only reason why any of you are here isn't it :P
Oh and also my very limited knowledge of law enforcement and any other crimefighty stuff I decide to write about is derived mostly from cheezy cop shows (omg bones ! ! !) so apologies in advance if it reads like a bad CSI script in places
Naomi turned away from the woman for a split second to return Cook's sceptical look, which turned out to be a big mistake as the redhead took advantage of their momentary distraction to dart to the side of the building and jump clean through an open window. Naomi and Cook whipped their heads around to follow the woman's movement, but she had disappeared in a blur of red on black.
"Fuck!" Naomi cursed, still reeling from the revelation that this small redheaded woman had murdered five people in cold blood. All the same, she had never seen anyone move with such speed and nerve; she'd timed her jump perfectly with two guns trained on her and the only sign she'd been there at all was the dumbfounded looks on the two detectives' faces.
"Who the fuck is this woman?" Cook panted as they dashed around to the outside of the warehouse, neither of them feeling much inclined to make the jump through the window. They could just make out the small figure of their mystery woman bolting down the road and without a word Naomi took off after her, Cook huffing and puffing along behind.
Naomi's head was buzzing with questions as she sprinted after the redhead, who appeared to have the agility and stamina of a fucking gazelle, leaping over fences, hedges and ditches without once breaking her stride. But Naomi was no sloth either, and with her significantly longer legs found herself slowly gaining ground. Cook, that tosser, was nowhere to be seen, all those years of smoking presumably having caught up with him. She hoped he hadn't died of asthma or something, though given the condition of his lungs she wouldn't be at all surprised.
Finally, legs burning and heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest and not in a good way, Naomi was close enough to the fleeing redhead to dive at her legs and send them both crashing to the ground. The ensuing struggle was short but furious, Naomi managing to get the upper hand by throwing herself bodily on top of the smaller woman and pinning her arms behind her back, but not before the redhead had thrown in a few punches and gouged what felt like a ten centimetre gash into her face with her nails. Fucking talons, more like. Flicking blonde hair furiously out of her eyes, Naomi cuffed the woman with a satisfied snapping sound and dragged her to her feet, still gasping for breath. Fuck, this woman can run. Naomi mentally thanked her mum for her supermodel legs, Miranda'd the cuffed woman, who had yet to say a single word, before dragging her none-too-gently back towards the warehouse, where the first CSI's had already started to gather.
Ten minutes later they arrived at the car, both of them still panting slightly and maintaining a stony silence between them. Cook was leaning languidly against the car, a cigarette dangling between his lips. His face lit up at the sight of his partner, who had the suspect in a cast-iron grip by the upper arm and who did not return his larrikin smile with any amount of fervour.
"Thanks for the help," she snapped. "Couldn't have done it without you."
"Aww, always a pleasure, Naomikins. Besides, looks like you had everything under control," his eyes swept over the detainee, who glared unwaveringly back at him, a challenge stamped across every feature.
"Let's get her back to the station," Naomi snarled, dabbing at the scratches on her cheek. Cook chuckled, buckling the suspect into the back seat before climbing in behind the wheel. The drive back was an uncomfortable one, even the perpetually oblivious Cook buckling a little under the waves of hostility emanating from both women. He was still a little stunned that the woman in the backseat could be responsible for the mass hysteria that had gripped Bristol for a good part of the past six months, but it looked like the only place they'd learn anything about her would be in the interview room.
Naomi scowled.
"What's your name?" Naomi demanded, sitting across from the woman in the tiny interview room, Cook at her side. They hadn't been able to find any kind of identification on the suspect, so they were going to have to do this the hard way.
"What's yours?" the woman replied insolently, tilting her head in a way that could only be described as 'bitchy'.
"You were found at the scene of a murder. This is no time to play games," Cook's previous good humour was rapidly deserting him, the muscle going in his jaw a sure sign that he was losing his temper.
"I didn't do anything. If you had any evidence-"
"You were running from the scene of a crime. We can already charge you with obstruction of justice, assault police, resisting arrest and I'm sure we can think of a whole lot on top of that. All we need is your name," Naomi reasoned in a voice of deadly calm.
"Fine," the woman said after a moment's deliberation, apparently deciding that more harm than good would come of continuing this petty battle of wills. "Fitch. Katie Fucking Fitch. And I want a lawyer."
Of course she did.
"Is that Fucking with an 'F'?" Cook asked sarcastically. " And a court appointed lawyer can be-"
"No. I'm calling my sister," Katie Fitch snapped. Naomi sighed, her and Cook leaving the room for her to make the call. Naomi rolled her eyes as they watched Katie talking animatedly on the phone to her sister, presumably some hot-shot defence lawyer who was going to make a long day even longer for them.
Katie's sister arrived about half an hour later, marching briskly towards the detectives, both of whom did a comical double take as the attorney approached them.
"Twins?" Cook mouthed unnecessarily at Naomi, who shrugged. She was beginning to think that nothing could surprise her anymore tonight.
"Hello, detectives," Katie's sister said to them in the clipped tones of someone who was pissed off and trying hard not to show it. "I'm Emily, here to represent Katie….obviously."
She clasped each of their hands briefly, her grip strong and confident. She looked angry at having been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, but Naomi couldn't help noticing that her expression was somehow softer than Katie's, and the bitchiness was missing from her eyes though they were exactly the same chestnut shade as her sister's. Ah, the good twin. Cook's phone started ringing, and he indicated that Naomi should begin the interview without him.
With a knowing smile at her partner, Naomi lead Emily into the interview room, where the lawyer immediately turned her attention to her sister.
"Did you say anything to them, Kay?" Katie shook her head, glaring moodily at Naomi. "Good. Now Detective Campbell, I'm pretty sure there's been a mistake. My sister-"
"Was caught fleeing from the scene of a murder. She made attempts to resist arrest and assaulted an officer of the law. That's hardly what an innocent woman would do, is it, Miss Fitch?" Naomi kept her icy blue eyes trained on Emily's.
"I didn't kill him!" Katie exclaimed shrilly, disproving Naomi's earlier opinion that the woman couldn't raise her voice. Emily placed a restraining hand on her sister's arm.
"Then how can you explain your being there at the warehouse, at the scene of a crime that even the police didn't know about?" Naomi demanded.
"Cos I'm smarter than you," Katie retorted petulantly, crossing her arms. "Thought someone should be investigating these murders, since you clearly aren't." Emily shot her a quelling look, and she lapsed back into a sullen silence.
"My sister's a crime writer," Emily explained, intelligent dark eyes sweeping back to Naomi. "She was researching this case for her new book, and must've come across the same lead that brought you and Detective Cook to the warehouse. The victim was already dead and the killer gone by the time Katie got there. She didn't witness the murder, and she certainly wasn't involved in it."
"Then why did you run?" Naomi narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you explain all this at the warehouse and save everyone the trouble?" She couldn't keep the frustration out of her voice. The killer was even now making his getaway having completed his sinister quintet, and here she was wasting precious time interviewing this irritating Katie Fitch character.
"I don't trust cops, okay? Even if I explained then, you guys would've arrested me anyway. Turned me into some kind of fucking scapegoat. I know how desperate you must be for a lead. Thought I'd avoid this," she waved a hand around the interview room with a look of disgust. "if I could outrun you. Turns out I might needa spend more time at Dad's gym." She looked at Emily, the corners of whose mouth twitched upwards slightly.
Naomi rolled her eyes at Katie's words, noticing that the other redheaded twin seemed to be resisting the urge to do so as well. Wondering why she had a sudden desire to smile as she saw her own exasperation mirrored in Emily's flawless features, the blonde cleared her throat quickly and fixed the scowl back onto her face. "Okay. So you find a lead but instead of going to the police with it, you decide to play detective and make your own way to the warehouse, in the process serving yourself up on a silver platter to the murdering psychopath you believe is hiding there, then you act a helluva lot like the killer you're trying to catch in the first place by running when confronted by the police. All this because you're a crime author who doesn't trust cops." Naomi pinched the bridge of her nose in a gesture that looked very much like defeat.
"That sounds about right," Emily said, now looking as though she were trying to suppress a smirk too. Naomi suddenly felt as though the two of them were conspiring against Katie, unwilling to examine why being on the same side as this smart, charming, redheaded lawyer pleased her so much. "I'm not saying it was the brightest thing for her to do," Emily continued as Katie scoffed. "But I think everyone in this room knows that Katie didn't kill that man, Detective. And I'm pretty sure you don't want to be wasting any more time with us Fitches. You should be out there catching a killer."
Naomi nodded, but she wasn't finished. "I believe Katie should be put under police protection until the killer is apprehended and behind bars." She said triumphantly, raising a hand as Katie immediately opened her mouth to protest. "Our victim was killed a week before full moon. This indicates that something - Katie, probably - spooked the killer while he was in the warehouse with him, and he had to carry out the murder earlier than anticipated in order to get away. If the killer saw Katie, he might see her as a potential witness, and therefore a threat. She'll be much safer under police protection."
"No objections there," Emily remarked cheerfully as Katie, speechless with fury, tore her gaze from Naomi to glare at her twin. They rose from their chairs, Naomi having explained to them that a police detail would be arranged to follow Katie like a blue and white shadow until the Butcher was caught.
Cook was leaning against the wall outside the interview room, his flushed face and satisfied smirk leaving Naomi in no doubt as to the subject of the phone 'conversation' he'd just had. He'd caught the final part of the interview, though, and lead a fuming Katie off to arrange her protective detail, leaving Emily and Naomi alone in the corridor.
"There's a very good reason why my sister doesn't trust the police, Detective Campbell," Emily said softly after a beat of silence. "She can be a right bitch sometimes - well most of the time, really - but some of the things we've been through...anyone would lose their trust after that."
If the words had come from anyone else Naomi's pride would have been up and defending her profession with hackles raised, but there was something about Emily's quiet, husky delivery that stilled the blonde's tongue. She was itching to know what had happened in the twins' past for them both to be so openly wary of law enforcement, but decided it was best not to press. "Well there's a very good reason why most of my colleagues don't trust defence lawyers," she said cheekily instead.
"That reason got something to do with the way we make a habit of tearing you apart and humiliating you in court?" Emily replied, smiling gratefully in acknowledgement of the questions Naomi had not asked.
The blonde snorted. "Yeah, you wish, Red." They both looked a little surprised at the nickname that had slipped from Naomi's mouth, seemingly without prior consultation with her brain. The laughter that followed was comfortable enough, but it was with a sense of relief that they spotted Cook returning with Katie, who was still looking remarkably menacing for such a little person.
"Come on, Em, we're leaving," she snapped, pushing past Cook and striding towards the exit with the bearing of the Queen. Emily smiled ruefully before shaking hands again with the two detectives. "Sorry for wasting your time tonight. Katie's just…" her voice trailed off, apparently unable to come up with a decent explanation for her twin's behaviour. Naomi assured her that Katie looked like Mother Theresa compared to some of the other people they'd dealt with in the past, earning her a soft chuckle from the redhead.
"Still, you might want to put something on that," Emily husked, gaze lingering on the scratches on Naomi's face before leisurely meeting the blonde's eyes. "Be a real pity to leave a scar on that face, Detective." Then she was gone, leaving Naomi struggling to fend off a very inquisitive look from Cook, and the conflicting emotions that were suddenly swirling around in her head.
There it is..hope you enjoyed it - some more Naomily in the next chapter, plus Naomi's girlfriend who I'm guessing everyone already hates by default