Hey guys! I'm so grateful for all of the reviews! I don't think I've ever had such a big (or fast) response to any of my stories before. Well here we are, second chapter. I hope you guys like it! This fic takes a lot more pre-planning than anything else I've written. For most of my fics I just kind of start writing, have a basic sequence of events in my head. I actually need to know what I'm talking about this time haha, I've been doing research and making outlines, and plotting way ahead in advance (Bright side to that though is I've got a wee bit of foreshadowing going on here and there).
But here we are finally, and I hope you guys enjoy it.
Once again, thank you to everyone who has followed or favorited this story. And a special thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, mle537, Kije999, jess, brady66, BethylOn, Ela1980, fsun1621, wellthatdepends, lisasays, nourgelitnius, Karoline, Guest, sederiana, and other Guest for the reviews on the last chapter!
Episode Two - Positive
It wasn't that she wasn't given a lot of time for lunch, it was just that she never took that time all that seriously...or maybe the problem was that she did take it too seriously. No one else took much of a lunch break either so she figured this was what it was going to be like from now on. Bagged lunches swallowed whole in the break room - supposing she hadn't been up so late the night before that she'd just stumbled from the shower, straight to the coffee maker, and out the door. Or days like today: walk half a block to the nearest convenience store and do your best not to look at the calories on that cream cheese danish you just bought.
She'd messed up and done that though, and decided that tonight would be a good night to hit the gym. Maybe she'd get a muffin next time, she doubted it was nutritionally any better, but still, at least she wouldn't know exactly how not better.
Danish tasted...okay. Honestly it was kind of dry, but as long as she took a sip of coffee with every bite it was swallowable. It was an art she had recently mastered, eating and walking. In the half a block from the kwik-e-mart to her office she could usually down whatever she was eating that day, and her cup of not-quite-as-bad-as-the-break-room's-coffee coffee, so she could throw her trash away in the lobby and be done with it.
She didn't like eating in her office. It left crumbs everywhere, and that meant she couldn't work while she ate, cause then those crumbs were going to get all over case files, or evidence, or something else important.
Just a few more buildings to go and she had half a danish left. Shoving a huge bite into her mouth, cheeks puffing up like a hamster, she took another swig of coffee. Just then, her phone started ringing, and she rolled her eyes. Chewing as fast as she could, she squished the wrapped half of the danish between her finger and her coffee, and started fishing through her purse with the other hand.
It was probably Daryl. He was the only one who called her at this time of day - except for that one time Maggie accidentally butt dialed her from work. Sighing she tapped accept.
"What?" She asked, voice dry. Daryl had been aggravating as ever this morning, and she hadn't quite forgiven him for it (or for the last two weeks).
"Hey...you okay?" A bit of guilt took hold in her chest as she realized it wasn't Daryl she was being brusque with, and a bit more as she realized who it was. This was why she needed to check caller i.d. more often. It was Zach.
"Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else. What's up?" She asked, cocking her phone between her shoulder and her cheek, leaving hands free to finish her lunch before she got back up to her office.
She took a bite as Zach responded, "Just been worried about you...you aren't calling much."
Beth swallowed hard, one fourth of a danish to go, "Oh, Zach, I'm sorry. I just...work's been really busy, and I've been stressed, and I-"
"No, no I get it," he cut her off, and she took another bite, "Work's always come first with you."
Her brow furrowed as she swallowed, and she stopped walking, moving off to stand next to one of the trees lining the sidewalk, "And what do you mean by that exactly?"
"Just saying." Zach defended himself.
"That wasn't my question, Zach." She wasn't in the mood for this, "What exactly are you 'just saying'?"
"Beth, I love you, but you've been down there for months."
"My sister's husband got murdered, Zach!" She swung her hand back in exasperation and cursed as the coffee lid slid off, spilling over her hand, "And I've been calling you plenty!"
"Not the last couple of weeks," he countered, "And you know when you started that new job? A couple of weeks ago."
"Are you saying I should quit my job just cause you're feeling neglected?" Since when had Zach started acting like this? Sure he hadn't liked when she worked the night shift back at NYPD, but he'd never been this...needy before.
"No! I'm just saying that maybe you could pick up the phone every once in a while, you know, when you don't think I'm someone else!" Zach shot back, and she took in a deep breath, trying to calm down a bit.
"Zach, I'm sorry. I'm just busy with work."
"Are you? Cause when I talked to Maggie, you're usually home around ten!" Zach snapped through the phone.
Beth's jaw tightened, "You've been talking to my sister?" Her lips pursed and her brows raised. She was going to kill him. She was going to kill him, and then she was going to kill Maggie, and then she'd probably have to arrest herself.
"Well you wouldn't answer your phone!"
"Look, Zach. First of all, it doesn't matter if I'm home. You would not believe the amount of paper work I have to do. I use a damn paper clip on the job and I have to file a report! And second, don't be calling my sister, Zach!"
"You're really doing paper work till two in the morning? Cause I've called you then too!"
"Yes! I am! That or I've been called out on a case, or I'm making an arrest, or for once in my life I'm getting some sleep!" A couple people glanced at her as they passed. Her phone started beeping and she pulled it back, glancing at the screen. Daryl was calling. "Look Zach, I'm getting a call, I'll talk to you later."
"Wait! So you can pick up other people's calls, but not mine?" The phone beeped again.
"This is Daryl, Zach." The phone beeped again, Dixon was going to be annoyed if she started ignoring his calls too.
"Wait, who the hell is Daryl?" Zach asked, and she rolled her eyes.
"My partner. I told you about him back when I was still in New York!" She snapped, "You know, maybe I'm always busy, but at least I'm actually there when I'm with you!" With that she hung up, and accepted Daryl's call.
"Greene." For some odd reason his harsh twang was more welcome than her own boyfriend's voice right now, "Where the hell are you?"
"Outside, I was getting lunch." She dumped the last of the danish and the remainder of her spilt coffee into the trashcan and started back towards the office, "Where are you?".
"I'm in your office. We got a case."
"Ah, Jesus." Dixon grimaced, and Beth did her best not to gag as the smell hit her. It had been bad when they came through the front door, but now her stomach was turning. She'd seen exactly five bodies in the two weeks she'd been on the job, and she was starting to get used to it. However, she had a bad feeling this one wouldn't be so easy.
"He's through here," Officer Bello said, holding a hand to her nose and mouth. She didn't look like she was going to follow, so Daryl went ahead into the bathroom. Bracing herself for the worst, Beth took what might be her last somewhat clean breath, and went with him. She was right, this was a bad one. Putting a hand to her face she did her best not to let out the breath that was burning in her lungs.
"Stookey!" Daryl yelled back through the door, "Get your ass in here!"
The bathwater had gone red with little white flecks swirling through, she nearly turned around hurled when she realized that the white spots weren't all just floating on the surface. They were swimming - at least some of them were. Maggots had riddled the puffy white flesh of the man's chest, with red holes as he leaned against the wall. There was a plop as one of them slipped off the body's shoulder and into the bloody water.
Though she wasn't quite sure where all the blood was from. His neck had been slashed, but the white ceramic looked too clean. Blood had dripped down to the bathtub rim below the wall, but there was no spattering.
"Stookey!" Daryl yelled again, and she heard someone muttering out in the living room of the little pre-furnished condo. A vacation rental in the heart of Downtown, some poor couple had walked in on him. They were still speaking to the cops outside, as far as she'd been told the owner was on the way.
"I don't think he was killed here," she said, finally letting out that breath, and taking another in through her mouth. Still smelled putrid. Daryl glanced at her, "Not enough blood," she explained, "No spatters, or streaking. If his throat was cut he would've struggled wouldn't he? It should be everywhere."
He nodded, "Rest of the place looked pretty clean."
"You think someone brought him in here to hide the body?" She asked, looking at the man in the tub. He'd been handsome, once, before he started to bloat and decay. Short brown hair, a straight nose, the hint of a strong jawline. Probably in his mid to late twenties.
He bit his lip, thinking, and then shook his head, "Weird place to try an' hide a body. Too many people could've seen you carry it in, lot a hassle gettin him in the elevator, cameras everywhere...Don't make sense. "
"Somewhere else in the building?" she suggested, "One of the apartments down the hall?"
He looked over at her, "Maybe. Coulda been here too...we'll bring in the blacklights. See what anyone tried ta clean up."
She nodded, it made sense.
He seemed to have a stronger stomach than she did, but he'd been doing this longer. It was nice sometimes, seeing that he wasn't all that affected. Sure, it was annoying when he gave her those looks that seemed to say, 'how'd I get stuck with some weak-ass little girl for a partner'. It was nice though, he'd gotten used to the death, she would too.
"We got an i.d. on him yet?" She asked.
"His name is James Farley." A voice came from behind her, and she turned. The man in the door held out a wallet to Daryl, "Gorman found this with a pile of clothes out in the living room." The guy was bald, black, and dressed in a lab coat. He had a kind looking face. Behind him stood two men who looked like every eighties high school movie nerd combined. Pale, nervous, one decked out in wire rim glasses, the other sporting a slightly greasy mullet.
"Oh!" Glasses exclaimed, looking at the tub, and quickly pulling a pair of tweezers and a vial from his bag. Daryl was watching him with distaste as the man kneeled by the tub and started plucking maggots from the water. She wasn't surprised the Daryl didn't like him, he didn't like anyone.
"And who is this beautiful flower?" Mullet asked in a thick Texan accent, eyes starting to get a little too close to her neckline.
"In your pants, Porter." The first man scolded, and looked to her, " Stookey," he introduced himself, "I'm the Medical Examiner. Go ahead and ignore the other two if you want. isn't exactly a people person, but he ain't bad." Mamet ignored the comments, too busy with bugs to be bothered with conversation, "Porter's just an idiot."
"My I.Q.'s higher than yours." Porter glared.
"Don't mean you can't be an idiot," Dixon commented, watching what Mamet was doing. Porter looked like he wanted to say something, but a second look at the ever present glower on Daryl's face was enough to deter him.
"Beth." She finally had a chance to respond to Stookey, "Detective Beth Greene."
"Nice to meet you," Stookey said, "I'd shake your hand, but, uh-" He held up gloved hands, "Should probably keep these clean."
"The maggots," Mamet finally piped up, "they're out of their third-instar phase - pupae."
Porter was nodding along as if that meant something, and her eyes found Daryl's. He gave the slightest, exasperated shake of his head as he held her gaze, and then turned on the man crouching below him, "English, Mamet."
"The body has been here for at least five days," Mamet said, nervously glancing up at Daryl before he stood, "The ones on the corpse all appear to be healthy, but," he reached down, plucking one of the floating ones out of the water with his tweezers, "Look at this one. It's rotted, decaying, even if it drowned it shouldn't look like this yet."
Daryl glanced at the water, "Acid?"
Beth glanced at the floor, suddenly realizing why the water was so red. Not wanting to look at the man who was slowly melting into the tub, her eyes landed on the big red bottle, "Drano?"
"Drano is basic, not acidic," Porter cut in, rather condescendingly, "but yes, it would have a similar effect...don't touch it, it causes-"
"Boy, I know what Drano does ta ya, get on with it," Daryl growled. Her eyes found him for a moment. His regular scruff was accompanied by a five o'clock shadow over his jaw. She frowned, he looked like he hadn't been sleeping well the past couple days either. She almost wanted to ask, but that would require almost getting her ass chewed out by a grumpy southern detective. He didn't really take kindly to comments about his personal life, she'd found, and was even less inclined to ones that seemed to hint that he might not be doing so well. She'd left his office after being yelled at for suggesting he might have a cold a few days ago.
Looking more than a bit huffy, grabbed a pair of tongs, passed uncomfortably close to Beth, and knelt in Mamet's place.
"Carotid Artery was severed on the right side," Stookey said as Porter started fishing through the Drano and blood bathwater.
"Hm, that's odd," Mamet commented.
"Generally," Stookey explained, "When we see slit throats, they're well...slit," he drew a line from one side of his neck to the other, "opened up completely, both Carotids would have been severed."
"This one just looks like he walked straight into a big ol' pigsticker of a knife or somethin'," Porter said as he sifted the tongs through the bathtub. He pulled up what looked like it had been a leg at one point, a thick piece of reddish flesh sloughing off and plopping into the water. She gagged as the smell only strengthened.
"Prints," she coughed, "Get someone to check the Drano for prints." With that she brushed past Stookey and into the living room, taking in a deep, fresh breath. She just needed to get used to it.
Deciding that maybe the kitchen, or really anywhere that didn't smell overwhelmingly of death, was a better place to be than the bathroom, Beth slid into the busy kitchen. If she wasn't going to stand there and listen to the labcoats spout science while fishing for bones, she might as well make herself useful. Daryl would kill her otherwise.
The apartment really was a nice one, fancy, with big plush couches in the living room covered in designer throw pillows. The kitchen was no different - installed with a startling amount of stainless steel and marble. All of this with floor to ceiling views of downtown Atlanta. Whoever had been renting the place for the weekend must've been rich. Whoever owned it must've been very very rich.
If James Farley had been murdered here, then they might be able to find the weapon. Her eyes fell on a big stainless steel butchers block up on the counter.
"Do you have any gloves?" She asked, looking at one of the officers near by.
"Uh, yeah," he quickly pulled a couple from a box on the counter, and handed them over, "here you go."
"Thanks." She smiled, snapping the white latex over her fingers, "And do you think you could track down one of those little handheld blacklights for me?"
"Yeah, yeah of course," the man said, and walked off as Beth stepped across the burnished hardwood floor. A few seconds later the officer was back, and she thanked him as he handed her the blacklight.
Each blade gave a satisfactory, metallic hiss as she pulled them from their slots, and shined the light over them. Clean, clean, clean. She stopped on a long boning knife, glowing eerily with the remnants of blood. They had their murder weapon.
Quickly bagging and tagging the knife she ran it back to the bathroom, trying not to watch as the body was lifted out of the tub to be transported back to the lab. Everything below the waist was a grisly mess of blood, and bones, and limp dangling flesh. The left hand had almost completely skeletonized. Oh God, she was going to hurl.
"Stookey." She caught their attention, all eyes on her as she held up the bag, "Would this do it?"
"Yeah, yeah I think it would." The doctor took the bag from her, examining the blade more closely.
"It got blood on it?" Daryl asked, and she sent him an exasperated glare.
"No, I just picked the knife I thought was prettiest," she muttered sarcastically, 's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, I checked for blood!" She snapped. Between Dixon being Dixon, and Zach somehow being even worse...her temper was a bit short.
"We'll double check when we get back to the lab," Stookey said, handing the bag back off to her, "but yeah, I'm pretty sure it'll match."
"I'll get this off to evidence," she said, slipping out of the bathroom and away from the stench of Drano-rotted corpses. Footsteps followed behind, she didn't have to look to know it was Dixon. He had a way of walking, almost silent, that made her think she could only hear him coming cause he wanted her too. She always wondered how he did that, maybe he was ex-military or something.
"You're gonna need to learn to deal with shit like that." He caught her elbow, turning her around to face him. He was close enough that he had to look down to meet her eyes, his hand still firmly grasping her arm, "Gonna get in the way if you can't look at a body for more than five minutes."
"Well at least I was doing somethin' Dixon," she hissed, "While you were in there staring at corpses," she held up the bag, "I was findin' our murder weapon." He looked like he wanted to say something back when the door opened, and they both looked up. A nervous man with a receding hairline was being lead into the living room. "That the owner?" She asked, looking back up at him. He hadn't moved away yet, the fresh cut wood smell that always lingered on him slightly blocking out James Farley's rotting corpse.
"I'd think so." His hand fell from her arm as he pulled out his cell phone, "Go talk with him would ya? I need to call in some techs, get those black lights in here." He started to walk away.
"Wait, Dixon. Give me Farley's wallet." He turned, fishing it out of his pocket and tossing it over.
"Did you know this man?" She asked, flipping open the black leather wallet.
The owner, a middle aged man named Joseph Blunt, shook his head, "No, never seen him before."
"Does the name James Farley mean anything to you?" She tried again, and again got a simple shake of the head. She'd thought looked somewhat nervous when he'd entered the apartment, she didn't blame him, between the body on his property and the overwhelming scent of decay - it was a lot to take in. She figured it would be easier to talk to him out in the hall, where at least he wouldn't be coughing and gagging every couple of sentences.
"The apartment," Blunt started, "Did, did someone break in?"
She shook her head, "There was no evidence of forced entry."
"So, the door was left unlocked?" He ran a hand over his hair - what was left of it. It kind of looked like he was starting to break into sweat. She frowned, making note of it. He was nervous, and she wasn't sure how much of that was simply in his personality.
"No. The couple who found him said the door was locked when they arrived this morning."
He took in a shaky breath, "So it's someone who has-"
"Access to the apartment? Yes." The man nodded, still looking somewhat sick. A little bit of the smell had wafted into the hall from the apartment. "I'm going to need a list of everyone who has keys."
He nodded, "I'll uh, I'll get that taken care of."
"Can I ask you the last time you were at the apartment?" She didn't think he'd done it. It didn't seem like he had the stomach for a bag of three day old garbage, forget dumping a body in a bath of Drano. Still, she had to be thorough.
"Ten...ten days ago?" He bit his lip, staring blankly towards the floor just beyond Beth's feet. "Everything was normal...I was just checking it out after a different couple left. There wasn't, a...a…" he didn't have to say 'body in the bath', she got the gist of his meaning.
"Would anyone else have been in the apartment since you were there last?"
"The- The maid, her name is Daniella Sanchez." She took the name down, "She should've been here, at some point...I've never really given her an exact time...just told her to get it done before the next booking."
The door opened and they both looked up, Dixon stepped out, meeting her eyes. He nodded back towards the elevator, and she quickly turned to , "I think I have everything I need right now. When you get that list drawn up," she started scribbling down her contact info, "You can send it here." The sheet of paper tore and she handed it to him, "If you remember anything else-"
"I'll give you a call," Blunt said with a weak, nauseous smile.
"Thank you." She smiled back, and turned to walk with Daryl.
"Got a hit on the missing persons list, roommate reported it," he said, "Already got a team headin out that way, get his computer, check around for anythin'."
"We goin' too?" She asked, and he nodded as the elevator dinged, and they stepped in.
It had been a very long day. Between her and Zach's fight, and the eternal struggle that was working with Daryl Dixon - more than anything she just wanted to go to sleep. She couldn't do that though, not yet. That drive by shooting Daryl and Carol had been working, she was still trying to find plates. It was impossible to see them on the footage of the shooting itself, but she'd pulled some more files - a lot more files. She'd been at this for hours, following the black car street to street. The lights over the tags hadn't been turned back on yet, but they had to do something eventually.
They'd have to stop, pull over somewhere. Either park and be done with it, or hop out to turn the light back on. They'd get stopped if they passed on officer.
She'd find it eventually.
The phone rang and she glanced down, trying to decide if she'd be more upset if it was Zach or Daryl. It was neither of them.
She quickly slid her thumb across the screen, "Amy." She smiled, she could take a break from following the car, "What's up?"
"Hey, where've you been?" Amy asked, though she didn't sound angry like Zach had. Still, a little pit opened up in Beth's stomach. Maybe sticking to her work would've been better, "Haven't heard from you much lately. Your hours really suck, you know that?"
"Yeah…" Beth groaned, "Believe me, I do." She was relieved, at least Amy understood.
"You sound tired, work hard again today?" Beth had ended up calling Amy not long after her first case, she'd needed someone to talk to. Charlie Martin's body wasn't an image that was leaving her mind anytime soon, though she didn't think James Farley's would either - though they were for two rather different reasons.
"Some guy got left in bathtub with Drano for almost a week," Beth said in a voice that mixed clinical detachment with, 'I really wish I could sleep'. It was easier that way, she got why Daryl talked so coldly about the victims sometimes.
"Oh God," Amy took in a breath, "Had he, like, melted?"
"Just the bottom half."
She was pretty sure she heard Amy gag through the phone, "Well other than the dead guy, how was work? You haven't said much about Dixon yet, he as redneck as his name?"
Beth shrugged, "I dunno. He's got the accent, but we don't really talk about personal stuff." She shut her laptop, moving the hot computer off her stomach and onto the coffee table as she sat up a bit, "He wears suits all the time, has to for work, but he drives a truck. Like a real beat up old pick up, makes the Camry look like a luxury model." She laughed, Amy did too.
"He cute?"
"Oh my God!" Beth laughed and rolled her eyes, "Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Well is he? I wanna know if I have a decent hook up waiting for me down there when I come to visit." Amy had always been the more promiscuous one. While Beth had lamely sat in the dorm hall glaring at the sock on the door, Amy had gotten to have all the fun. Beth was pretty, but she was a little too 'farm girl' to attract much attention from college freshman. Amy on the other hand, had boobs. "You know," Amy continued slyly, "Get him to show me his gun..." Beth knew the shit eating grin her best friend was wearing right now very well. Amy was also a connoisseur of the sexual innuendo.
"If you can persuade Daryl Dixon into bed, be my guest," Beth said with a laugh, "From what I've heard around the office he hasn't had a serious girlfriend in years."
"Doesn't have to be serious." Something creaked in the background, Amy must've flopped down onto her bed, "Actually serious sucks, no fun in that." Amy trailed off for a moment, "Speaking of serious...everything okay between you and Zach?" She asked, and the pit came back in Beth's stomach, "I heard his half of your argument this morning."
"It was just a spat I think...I dunno." Zach had been right, she wasn't calling as often as she should - still he'd crossed some lines, and she was still pissed. "I haven't been in touch as much as he'd like, and apparently he'd been calling Maggie, and then he got all pissy when I mentioned Dixon."
"Well, you have been kind of distant." A bit of hurt leaked into Amy's voice, and Beth felt guilty all over again.
"I'm sorry," Beth apologized sincerely, Amy was her best friend, and it helped that she wasn't getting all belligerent about it. "I have weird hours, and when I'm not working I'm still working...I just...this job is harder than I thought it'd be."
"You sure your cut out for it?"
"Got to be." Beth sighed, glancing at the laptop full of CCTV files. Her eyes were drooping, but she needed to keep looking.
"Beth, sweetie," Amy spoke softly, "you know you can always come home. Your name's still on the lease."
"I can't leave Maggie, Amy, not yet. Everything's still so fresh, and Glenn's case is still open...maybe if she could have gone down to stay with Daddy and Mom, but she can't lose this job either."
"Yeah...I get it. Family first." Amy said, that had been Beth's explanation when she first hauled everything down to Atlanta. It was her explanation for staying too. Maggie had stood by her in everything, hell she and Glenn had helped her pay off some school debt when she was a rookie officer and Zach was just an intern - back when she was struggling to pay rent let alone bills.
She wasn't leaving Atlanta. Not yet.
"Blunt's list came in this morning," Beth said, projecting so the whole room could hear her from her and Daryl's desk at the back, "I'll be checking over it today, maybe making some house calls?" She glanced at Daryl with that question and he nodded. Morning meeting had quickly become routine for her. Different cases would be gone over, brought up to the whole department. It was useful, get a few different eyes on something.
Daryl had said that when really big cases popped up, the complex stuff like serial killers they'd take on a sort of divide and conquer attitude. Morning meetings seemed to sound more like war rooms than friendly class discussions.
"File says you had the name of a maid who may have been there?" Rick questioned from his spot standing up at the front of the room.
"Alibi's all checked out," Daryl spoke up, "She wasn't there. Took a look the security cameras for the building, never came to clean in the first place. Whoever killed Farly though, tried to clean up. Techies came in with black lights - kitchen just lit up."
"Why would they drag him into the bath though?" Michonne asked, "Why not just leave him there."
"Probably panicked," Rick suggested, "Thought they could hide the evidence with the acid. At least keep us from identifying the body…just forgot to get all of him in there." Rick she had found out, was about as good at his job as Daryl. Seemed to love it too. She could never tell what Daryl enjoyed, but he was dedicated to his work. Rick, however, seemed to genuinely love it. He was a good leader, a bit wordy sometimes; but he liked what he did, and he liked to help people. It showed.
A few of the other detectives, didn't have that vibe. The ones who were always back in the break room with a cup of coffee, a couple who'd she'd learned were a bit too trigger happy. She was lucky she'd gotten Dixon for a partner, jerk or not, he wasn't a complete asshole. There were definitely some good ones too. She didn't get a lot of time to socialize with anyone other than Daryl, but Michonne and Rosita had proven to be more than likeable. Tyreese and Caesar were fun to talk to too. She'd never spoken with them about work, just sports or politics or wherever else the conversation took them.
Most recently it had been a discussion on Philip O'Brien, big hotshot businessman turned Georgia Governor as of late. Rumor had it he had an eye on the presidency as well, though it would be years before he got a run at that. From what she could tell he seemed like his nice guy, sweet family, absolutely doting on their nine year old daughter. She hadn't checked out much in terms of his policies, she'd never been big into politics, and she'd only been down in Atlanta for a month or so now.
"What about Farley's apartment?" That was Tyreese, "Techies gone through his laptop yet? His phone?" She could smack herself, how had they missed that?
"His phone," she glanced at Daryl, he'd realized too, "I don't think one was found was it?" He shook his head.
"We'll get the GPS turned on, track it down. If it wasn't at the crime scene or Farley's place, it might lead us to our killer." The conversation went on at that point, leaving her and Dixon's case to focus on the others. Muggings, shootings - some gang related - others that were turning out to be family drama, and then one that peaked her interest, "Everett, Espinoza." Rick looked to the two women, "How're we doing on the Rhee case?"
They started going down lists of cases Glenn had been working, gangs and dealers who had reason to be particularly pissed at him. Her eyes found Daryl's and he watched her with a guarded gaze, she could never tell what he was thinking. He'd said it before though, he thought Everett and Espinoza were wrong. So why the hell wasn't he saying anything?
"Tomas Aziza, hitman that we've never been able to get solid evidence on before. He's careful, clean - it would explain why we couldn't find much at the crime scene," Michonne said, "Rhee was working several cases linked to gangs and cartels Aziza has hired himself out to before. We've checked him out - he won't give an alibi either, but most of the suspects aren't exactly trusting."
Daryl had been right that night. If it was gangs they would've made a statement, not just leave him swinging in the garage. She hadn't decided if Glenn's killers had wanted someone scared, or just wanted Glenn dead, but she agreed with Daryl - It wasn't a gang. It didn't feel right. She was about to speak up when she felt a warm hand close over her knee. Daryl met her glare and shook his head ever so slightly.
She was about to go right ahead and ignore him when people started to get up, filing out of the room.
"C'mon." Daryl stood, shoving things into folders, "Got housecalls to make."
"Dixon, what the hell was that?" She asked, angrily shoving photos of the black lit kitchen into her binder.
"Ain't your place to say anythin'," he didn't look up at her, holding his folders under his arm as he left the room and she stormed after him, "they find out you're related to the victim they ain't even gonna let you listen in on this shit."
"But they were wrong!" She hissed, following him down the hall towards their offices, "You said so yourself!"
"It was a hunch."
"We're cops," she said, exasperated, "Everything is a hunch."
"No, everything is evidence," he said, eyes still straight ahead. He had problems making eye contact sometimes that were very aggravating, "That's what gets through courts, that's what gets these bastards locked up. I gotta hunch that they're wrong, that's it."
"Then why don't you tell someone who can actually go out and put evidence behind it then huh?" She asked, and he didn't say anything, "What you scared you're wrong or something? Gonna lose your Sherlock reputation as the brilliant asshole."
"Been wrong before, Greene." Impassive features quickly turned cold.
"And I'm sure everyone lived through it!" She quipped, glaring at him as they turned the corner to their hall.
"They didn't." With that he shut his office door behind him.
Pizza night had been a Greene family tradition as long as she could remember. All the way back to her parent's real big fight, back when she was only a toddler, about Annette always having to cook dinner. Her mom had stormed out, and her Daddy, with two hungry kids and a very limited knowledge of how to work a stove, had done something he'd never done before. He ordered a pizza.
Hershel had always been of the persuasion that if you lived on a farm, and had the resources to make fresh, home cooked meals, you damn well better make them. Except, he hadn't taken into account the fact that he didn't actually know how to make them himself.
After that he started learning to cook, he had three nights a week, her Mom had three nights a week. On Sundays they followed the good Lord's word, and took a break. So Pizza night had always been, and always would be on Sundays. Traditions fell through the cracks when she was in New York, away from home and from family.
Tonight was Sunday though, and she was in the heart of Georgia with her big sister, and they were gonna eat pizza.
It had been nice, she had weekends off, just a couple days not to go into the office, or deal with Dixon. Technically it was time off, though she still kept her phone on and ready at all times. Last weekend Daryl had shown up at her door with half of man's ear he'd found on the sidewalk. Said he'd found a nasty amount of blood in the alley next to it, and had already called in others to check the scene itself out. He wanted the ear taken in before rats found it, and for her to start checking hospital records of the last three days for some guy suffering blood loss and a missing ear.
With that, he said he was busy, walked back out the door, hopped in his truck, and disappeared.
She'd been very, very close to slapping him that night (though they did end up finding the body in a dumpster down the alley).
"We've got this big firm coming in, wanting loans," Maggie said, sprawled out on the couch as they waited for the pizza guy to show up, "This is the third time in a month. I mean I had to tell them no, they're about to go bankrupt, and my boss is going to kill me if I put more of our money in a sinking ship." She laughed, taking a drink of her second glass of wine. Beth had only had a couple of sips, wasn't even buzzed. She'd learned that drinking at night generally meant Dixon would show up.
She was never going to get drunk again, was she?
"What are you and the surly cowboy working on now?" Maggie asked, smirking slightly. Beth rolled her eyes. Maggie had never been all that fond of Zach, though she couldn't figure out why. In that moment she almost brought up Zach's phone calls, but she didn't, it was pizza night. No fighting on pizza night.
"If you call him a cowboy, I'm pretty sure he'll kill you," she said, "Just working on the usual though...dead people." Her shoulders bobbed with a nonchalant shrug, "This one's leanin' a bit farther towards gross than the others, but he's still dead."
"Dixon treating you right?" Maggie asked, and Beth sent her a dead-in-the-eyes glare.
"He's my partner, not my boyfriend," she deadpanned, "and he's always a jerk, and I just don't think that's gonna change."
"The jerk part, or the boyfriend part?" Maggie asked, and Beth quickly took a gulp of her mostly untouched wine.
"We're changing the subject!" She gave Maggie a look that she hoped said, 'see what happens if you try me', but Beth had never been particularly intimidating.
"Alright," Maggie conceded, "New subject...how are you and Zach?"
"Ennh!" Beth let out a loud buzzer noise, "Try again."
Maggie rolled her eyes, "Did you see anything good on TV today?"
Beth shook her head, "All re-runs...there was some MASH on TV Land though." The doorbell rang, "Oh! Pizza's here, I'll get it." Beth jumped up, grabbing the twenty bucks off the coffee table and running to the mudroom. She opened the door with a big grin and bills outstretched, "Hi, thank you so-" She dropped off realizing that it wasn't the pizza guy.
It was a very grumpy looking Daryl Dixon. "We gotta go, techs located that phone," he said as he stepped past her into the house.
"But...it's pizza night," she said, sounding more than a bit dejected. His brow furrowed for a moment, but he brushed it off, "Can't someone else pick it up? I mean it's been there this long, I'm sure it'll be there in the morning."
"It's in Joseph Blunt's house," he grumbled, cold blue eyes meeting hers, and suddenly she knew why he was scowling more than usual.
"He said he didn't know him…" Beth said, eyes dropping as her brow furrowed slightly.
"Well he lied then, didn't he?" His voice was scathing and his eyes intense as he glowered down at her. This was the other problem Daryl had with eye contact. If he was making it, he had a tendency to go all in. "This is why I shouldn't've let you go off and question him yourself."
"I've questioned people before." There were times when she was grateful to have him as her partner, this was not one of those times. Not only was he ruining pizza night, he was being an ass about it too.
"Yeah, as a petty crimes detective," he scoffed, "You know, I need to have a word with whoever trained you for this shit, cause they didn't do all that great a job."
"Well have fun talking to yourself, Dixon," she growled, turning and stalking back down the hall, "Cause I guess you really dropped the ball huh?" That must've given him pause, cause she was already halfway through the living room, and she didn't hear him behind her. Except then a hand gripped her arm and spun her around. She'd been right, Daryl was more than capable of being perfectly silent when he moved.
He was glaring down at her, close enough to feel his breath on her face when he spoke. It smelled like mint, he must've been chewing gum or something. "Where the hell do you think you're goin, Greene?"
"To put on some clothes," her lips pulled up into the smile with dead eyes combo, "Or you want me to go make an arrest in my jammies?" His eyes flicked down the baggy t-shirt and cotton shorts she had on, and he quickly let her go. The place where he'd held her still warm on her arm. She looked over at Maggie, who had been taking it all in with a raised brow, and gave her a 'see what I mean' look before rushing upstairs.
"Detective Daryl Dixon, Atlanta PD," Daryl held up his badge, "This is my partner, Detective Beth Greene. We have a search warrant." The girl in the door couldn't have been more than sixteen, she had brown hair and her father's nervous demeanor. " home?"
She shook her head, "No, sir. He said he was going out, business…" Beth glanced around the corner. From the foyer she could see half of a TV screen in the other room, an episode of CSI: Miami playing in the background. "He didn't mention when he'd be getting back."
"I'm sorry, we'll still need to come in," Beth said, in a far more kind tone than Daryl's. The girl nodded, opening the door a bit wider. Joseph Blunt really was rich, though if he owned condos like the one downtown, he had to be. The house was nice, fancy with stained wood and some very expensive looking furniture. Religious icons scattered the room, a crucifix on the wall, the Virgin Mary's picture framed opposite. They must've been Catholic.
"Your mama home?" Daryl asked, taking in the room that had to cost a few month's rent.
"My mom died, back when I was six." The girl didn't really meet their eyes, "I'm an only child, so its just me right now."
"I'm sorry," Beth said, "about your mom." Right now they weren't just waiting on Joseph Blunt, they were waiting on the rest of the team they'd called in. This was a very big house, and it was going to take days to comb the whole thing if it were just the two of them. "Does the name James Farley ring a bell to you? A friend of the family? One of your dad's associates?"
The girl's eyes widened and her jaw tightened as she said, "No," quickly. Beth glanced up at Daryl.
"Well, uh, we'll be around, if you want to get back to whatever you were doing," Beth said with a smile, and the girl turned and left for the TV room. Every once in a while she'd turn and glance back at the two cops in her foyer. "She knows something," she hissed to Daryl and he nodded. He was still pissed with her, she could tell, and she was pretty sure it dated back to their argument after the morning meeting on Friday. Right now though they were on a case, so he was being civil.
He nodded, "Think she's coverin' for her Dad?"
"Could be," Beth agreed, "Sounds like he's all she has. No family, no support - if she knows I don't think she'd gonna talk. Supposing her Dad did it."
"Why else would the damn phone be in his house?" He grumbled, that annoyance seeping into his voice.
"I don't know." She really didn't, the whole thing was frustrating, "But I still don't think it makes sense. Why would he leave a body for his guests to find? Kind of bad for business." She didn't get a chance for anymore questions, the door was opening, and Joseph Blunt looked like his heart had jumped into his throat when he saw the two cops looking at him.
"What's this about?" The man asked, eyeing the pair of them cautiously. He looked rumpled, tie crooked, suit no longer cleanly pressed. That nervous sheen was appearing on his hairline again.
"You tell us ," Dixon said, holding up the warrant, "You got a reason for having James Farley's phone in your house?"
A few hours later a search team had completely scoured the house, and Daryl had completely scoured Joseph Blunt. The man looked like a wreck - he'd been nervous when Beth spoke to him outside the crime scene, but being dragged back up to the APD had taken a toll on him. Daryl was scowling heavily from his side of the table, he'd found out a lot, but not what he'd wanted.
Beth sighed, watching through the two men through the one way mirror, as she got another text. They'd found the phone in a box of pictures, and a few other things pertaining to James Farley. All of it had been brought back up to the office. At least the search had been successful.
Joseph Blunt turned out to be downright useless as far as making an arrest. He had an alibi for that night, and for most other nights apparently - he had a slight penchant for hookers he'd been hiding from his daughter. He'd given a name, an escort who went by Mira Raj, Beth had already looked her up while waiting for Dixon to finish up. She was very pretty, Indian descent. Mira had been less than enthusiastic to answer, but she answered all the same. Blunt had been with her.
"I'm done here," she heard Daryl growl over the speakers, standing. Blunt moved to go with him, "I didn't say we. You're stayin."
Beth's phone pinged again, another text from the one of the techies, a woman named Karen who Beth had really started to like. She was Tyreese's wife, apparently. Turned on Farley's phone, you're gonna want to see this.
She and Daryl exited the adjacent rooms at the same time. He glanced at her, the grumpy look on his face hadn't change. She was doing her best not to say 'told ya so'. "I checked out his alibi, he with her all that night."
"Fuck," he grumbled, and moved to go open the door again, let Joseph go.
"Wait," she said, "Keep him a while longer. Karen said she found something on the phone, I'm gonna go check it out." Daryl raised a brow, she wasn't usually spouting off what their next move was, the past couple of weeks that had been his job, "Amanda, the daughter. She's still back in the waiting room, check on her would you?"
If Daryl wanted to be bossy, she could be bossy right back.
"Uh-uh, Greene. I ain't gonna go play baby sitter," He grumbled following after her, "You so worried about her, you get her a damn coffee."
She stopped, looking up at him in exasperation. That seemed to be the word of the week, she'd never met a more exasperating person than Daryl Dixon. Pretty soon she was going to need to look up synonyms. "I'm not asking you to go get manicures with her, I'm asking you to be a decent human being. That poor girl's probably worried sick right now."
"So?" He muttered, going back to avoiding eye contact.
"So?" She let out a heavy breath, "You know what Daryl?" Her lips pursed, and he glanced up as she said his first name, "You can be a hard ass with me, and you can be a hard ass with the suspects, but would it really hurt you to show a damn bit of compassion?" She was getting real tired of his shit, real fast, "You know, instead of just letting everyone else get caught in your temperamental crossfire!"
He'd fixed a nasty glare on her, eyes cold. She shook her head, voice softening a bit, "I saw you with Lilly Martin, I know you're capable of it…" His expression didn't change much, though she thought his jaw might have twitched, "You don't have to act like you're above it all to get people to respect you, Daryl."
He didn't respond, and he didn't move to follow her as she walked for the elevator.
"So Amanda Blunt and James Farley were-" Beth stared at the photos on the phone in a mild state of shock. Karen nodded, eyebrows raised.
"But he's...he's twenty six, he's my age - she's...oh my God she's only fifteen." Beth stared at the picture of the couple, smiling into a selfie. James had his arms around her, chest halfway up on her shoulder as he reached to get the phone in the right angle. They were in bed, James was shirtless, and Beth was pretty sure Amanda wasn't wearing much under that sheet.
"I don't know about you," Karen said, as they flipped to the next, slightly more risque photo, "but if I were her parent, this would be more than enough motive for me."
"Do you think the hooker was lying?" Beth asked, and Karen shrugged, pulling up Farley's texts. There were hundreds of messages between him and Amanda.
"Possible. He paid her for sex. Might've paid her for a quick lie, wouldn't have had to tell her the details….you could bring her in, we've got a polygraph." Beth nodded, it would be a good idea. Pulling out her own phone, she sent a text to Dixon, he'd want to know about this. She felt bad about earlier, but at the same time, she really didn't. "There was some other stuff in the box you might want to look at." Karen nodded to the work desk.
The box wasn't huge, a standard jewelry box really, covered in deep blue velvet. The inside was cream colored silk, filled with printed photos, a man's ring, and one last thing that caught her eye...a pregnancy test, a little pink plus sign front and center. Daryl still hadn't texted back. He had a bit of a temper, but he wasn't childish, he wouldn't be ignoring her while they were on a case.
She shook her head, staring at the piece of plastic in her hands. This was one hell of a motive...but still. It didn't make sense, why would Joseph kill James at that apartment, why would he leave the body there?
"Beth," Karen was still sifting through the phone, "Look."
It was the last message in their conversation, the night James Farley died. Amanda had asked him to meet her at an address...Beth tapped the in text link, and google maps popped up on Joseph Blunt's vacation rental.
Beth blinked, holding up the pregnancy test, "Can I borrow this?"
Amanda Blunt was sitting alone, looking a lot like she was trying to hold back tears. She had a cup of coffee in her hands, but Daryl was nowhere to be seen. He still hadn't answered her texts, and her calls had gone to voicemail. She was going to kill him when she found him. Right now though, she had bigger things to worry about.
"Amanda?" Beth took a seat, "How're you doin?"
"Okay...Detective Dixon brought me this." She gave a half hearted smile, holding up the cardboard insulated cup.
"He still around?" Beth asked, unable to push past the curiosity that had been mixed with a healthy dose of annoyance.
Amanda shook her head, "He started arguing on the phone with some guy, I think his name was Merle?" Amanda looked to Beth, seeing if the name meant anything to her, but Beth shook her head, "Towards the end it sounded like he was gonna go meet him somewhere."
Beth controlled the urge to roll her eyes, and instead kept her focus on the teenager in front of her. "Amanda, I was actually wondering if I could ask you a few questions?" That nervous look swept over the girl's face again as she nodded, "Amanda, I want you to answer me truthfully, did you know James Farley?"
The girl's eyes went wide as she shook her head, "No."
"Amanda, we have James' phone...sweetie we know that's not true." Amanda didn't respond, her face going blank and white, "Is there any way your father could've found out?"
Amanda shook her head, "He didn't know."
Beth nodded. She'd been right. Quietly she reached into her purse, and pulled out the pregnancy test, setting it on the armrests between them, "He got you pregnant didn't he?"
Amanda nodded, eyes glassy as that weak, nervous chin started to tremble, "I loved him." Her voice came out in a squeak.
"You're father's religious isn't he? Catholic?" Beth asked, and Amanda nodded, "You were scared about him finding out - a baby out of wedlock...he wouldn't have been happy would he?" Tears were starting to fall down Amanda's face, and Beth took her hand, "Sweetie, it's okay, I get it. I would've seen the wrath of God if my Daddy found out I'd gotten pregnant at your age...I would've done anything to make sure he didn't know."
Amanda let out a strangled little sob, "I knew it was a bad idea to tell James, I knew it."
"Did he try to hurt you?" Beth asked, not taking her eyes off the girl.
Amanda shook her head, "No he would never...he wouldn't do that. He he was always so sweet you know...he just didn't get it. He thought my Dad would be okay with it...he - " she broke off in a cry, "He was going to call him - I- I -I." She started heaving with tears.
"Deep breath, sweetie," Beth said, squeezing her hand a little tighter. "I understand. You would've lost everything if you're Dad knew. Wouldn't you?" Amanda nodded feebly, "He would've kicked you out."
"I'd invited James over to the apartment...it's usually empty, I'd wanted to try to make dinner. When I told him he was so...he had this dumb idea that even if Dad threw me out that he could take care of me. Like my Dad wouldn't call the cops on him or something."
"So when he called your father..."
"It was an accident," Amanda sobbed, "I reached out to stop him - I forgot I had the knife in my hand. There," she sniffed heavily, "There was so much blood. I panicked...I...I watch a lot of crime shows, I thought I could...I'm so stupid."
"You understand that I'm going to have to arrest you now?" Beth asked, and Amanda nodded.
"I understand."
Daryl hadn't shown up that night, hadn't answered his phone, just went completely AWOL. A few hours in she'd been annoyed, sitting there processing all of the paperwork on her own. Informing , on her own. Seeing Amanda off in Rick's care, on her own. Now that all the necessities for the arrest had been performed, and Daryl still hadn't shown back up, she was starting to get worried.
Her door was open, giving her a good view of his office. He'd left his leather jacket on the chair, his laptop on his desk. She almost would've thought he'd gotten tired and decided to pick his stuff up when they were all in, bright in early tomorrow morning (today morning, actually, it was two AM), but his keys were sitting on his desk too. She didn't think he would've left without his truck, he loved that truck like it was his kid or something.
She'd almost spilled coffee in it one morning, and she was convinced he was about to ditch her on the side of the road.
If she was going to wait up all night for him, she thought she might as well get some work done. It wasn't like she had time to go all the way back home, it was forty five minutes there, and forty five minutes back - subtract time to shower and get dressed again and she'd have less than an hour to sleep. Wasn't worth it.
She had some spare clothes in the locker room, and there was a shower in there, dinky as it was.
Trying her best not to worry about Daryl, something she never thought she'd do...ever...she kept on sifting through the evidence on the Martin case. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he did it, but there was a doubt in the high price lawyer Frank Martin had bought with money she assumed he'd gotten off cocain. So she needed to get this case together, a real solid, irrefutable case.
That bastard wasn't going to walk.
Something shifted in the hallway outside, and she glanced up. Daryl hadn't noticed her as far as she could tell, practically shuffling into his office and gathering his stuff. He wasn't wearing a suit, to her surprise - but a sleeveless flannel that showed just the tip of a tattoo on his shoulder blade, and some well sculpted biceps. A ragged pair of jeans completed the look that Amy would have claimed to be more than sufficiently red neck.
She'd slipped her shoes under her desk a while ago, so she was almost silent as she crossed the hall, and stood in his door, "Dixon." Her voice was soft and groggy from exhaustion.
He jumped, looking up at her, "Jesus Christ, Greene. The fuck you still doin' here?"
"You weren't answering your phone...I was worried." She stepped a bit further into his office, leaning against the wall, "Thought I'd wait up, wasn't gonna make it home anyways...had a lot of paper work to do."
His brow furrowed, "Paper work?"
"Made an arrest in the Farley case - it was the girl, Amanda." Beth frowned, the girl hadn't stopped crying the whole time. Her father wouldn't even look at her when he left. "James got her pregnant, was gonna tell her dad...she was holding a knife, cooking, didn't mean to kill him."
"Shit," he muttered, a hand running up his face and through his hair as he grabbed his coat.
"You gonna tell me where you went? Kinda left me hanging there, Dixon." He shifted awkwardly, not making eye contact. "Fine." The annoyance was coming back now that she knew he was okay, but she was too tired to be angry, "Don't tell me. You owe me one though."
He raised a brow, a little smirk spreading across his lips. When he wasn't scowling, he was actually pretty handsome, "I owe you one?"
"Yeah, and I'm being generous." Beth started counting off on her fingers, "You've been a jerk to me all week. You've been a jerk to me this whole case. You pulled me away from pizza night, so you could be a jerk to me some more. You ran off, in the middle of the case, to do God knows what, and left me to do all the hard shit at the end. Really, you owe me at least six…but I'll be nice and call it one." She gave him a cheeky smile, and he rolled his eyes.
"I'll bring you coffee tomorrow, alright?" He swung his bag over his shoulder, heading for the door.
"Mmm, I dunno…" She said, and he stopped just inches from her, he still smelled like cut cedar. "You kinda ruined pizza night, pizza night is a pretty serious thing."
His gaze turned to meet hers, eyes softer than they normally were, "Fine, I'll bring you a pizza, Greene."
"Thank you." She gave him a smile, as he let her pass him, and shut the door behind them. "I'll uh, see you in a few hours." She gestured back towards her office, and he nodded watching her a moment longer before turning down the hall.
She was almost back in her office, when she heard his voice again, "You really ain't gonna go home?"
"Dixon, you know where I live." She smiled softly, too tired to stay pissed at all, "I'd have fifteen minutes to sleep at this point, maybe."
His thumb went to his mouth, nervous twitch she'd noticed he had, "My place is about ten minutes out...gotta pretty comfy couch."
Beth's eyes drooped further at the thought of somewhere soft to sleep. Somewhere to sleep at all. "Can I use your shower?"
"You gonna use all the hot water?" He asked, and she shook her head. "Go grab your stuff, Greene."
"Three more," Beth called as she headed down to the locker room.
Daryl blinked, "I thought we were callin' it one?"
Beth shrugged, smiling, "Yeah, but as long as you keep shellin' out, I'm moving back up to six." He rolled his eyes as she turned the corner, feeling exhausted, though considerably happier than she had been.
Quickly ducking back around the corner, she called out to him softly, "Hey, Dixon." He looked up, "Thank you."
Originally this one was going to be longer than the Pilot, but I felt that going up into thirteen-fourteen thousand word territory was gonna get to be a bit much for something that wasn't even super heavy for the plot. Didn't cut much, just condensed some things, moved other bits into different chapters. Still a damn long chapter, about ten thousand.
I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I can't wait to read your reviews!
See you as soon as I can!