Chapter 3: Annabelle Houston
Dean ran a hand compulsively through his dirty blonde hair as he exited the Chief's office and headed for his desk with perhaps just a bit more anger in his stride than usual. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed one of the unclaimed desks from the corner of the room and shoved it unceremoniously next to his before finally dropping into his chair. For a moment he simply pressed both hands to his head, already feeling the beginnings of a caffeine headache settling deviously in his temples.
"Oy, Ambrose!"
He cursed mildly under his breath before looking up, already knowing the jovial voice calling out to him belonged to fellow Detective Chris Jericho.
"Need something, Jericho?"
The blonde man grinned down at him as if laughing at his own private joke before setting a steaming mug of black coffee down on the desk. "I happened to bump into Rollins downstairs, and he mentioned you might be in need of some extra coffee this morning."
Try as he might to remain grumpy, the aroma of a fresh cup of coffee made his mouth water instantaneously. Dean reached gratefully for the mug, nodding his thanks to Jericho and making a mental note to speak to Rollins about his gossiping habit. "Yeah, yeah, had a run in with the new girl. I 'spose you guys have been laughing it up all morning?" he grumbled before taking a couple quick gulps from his mug. He allowed himself a small sigh of satisfaction, already feeling the pain in his head loosen up.
Jericho grinned with mirth, but he managed to stop himself from laughing. Ambrose may be thankful for the coffee, but his temper was known to flare up with the slightest provocation. "Oh yeah, but don't worry. Once she strode through here on her heels the talk became primarily about what a fox she is."
Dean smirked to himself, "Maybe I wasn't paying enough attention between the scalding hot coffee I was wearing and the Chief telling me I get stuck with her as my new partner."
Jericho's eyes widened and he choked a bit on his own sip of coffee. "Seriously? That poor, poor girl…"
Before he had the chance to respond, he heard the Chief's office door open again and out sauntered miss Magnolia Michaels herself. She surveyed the room for a moment before her eyes settled on Ambrose and she headed in his direction. For the first time he allowed himself to really study his new partner and for an instant he was completely mesmerized. Her big amber eyes locked on his own and literally sent a jolt through his system.
He noticed suddenly how long her rich chestnut hair was, and how perfectly her navy blue skirt suit conformed to her lithe, shapely body. Though she wore heels, he'd guess her real height to be about 5'4, and he had a moment of admiration that she didn't get intimidated in a profession dominated so extensively by large, aggressive men. As she got closer and took a seat at the desk he had pulled over for her (which he was now wishing he had pushed just a little bit closer) he noticed the dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks and felt something inside him warm up to her just a little.
It took Dean a moment to realize he was staring, probably with his mouth agape, and indeed the only thing that really snapped him from his reverie was a rather pointed cough from Jericho.
"Ahem," The older detective began, extending his hand with a warm smile to his new colleague. "Chris Jericho, pleased to meet you. Anything you ever need around here, I'd be more than happy to help you out." His voice practically dripped with charm and Dean had to resist the urge to aim one of his boots at the man's shin.
His new partner, however, seemed not to notice the awkward moment or the obvious flirtation. "Magnolia Michaels, nice to meet you Detective Jericho."
"Oh please, call me Chris."
"Well, then, call me Maggie." She smiled and Dean struggled to not stare at her luscious pink lips.
Chris allowed their handshake to linger far too long for Dean's liking, and capped the whole thing off with a rather extravagant kiss to her knuckles. Finally the moment seemed to end and he stepped back from the desk.
"You finally remember you've got work you should be doing? Or do I need to sit here and watch you hit on my new partner some more?" Dean grumbled, wondering to himself why he was feeling so protective over some new detective. Sure, she was a woman, and… well, a very attractive woman at that, but he'd never had a reaction like this to someone before. And he certainly couldn't forget he'd shown his own temper to her earlier in the parking lot. He forced a smile at Jericho and watched the man walk away, giving himself a moment to snap back into work mode.
Of course, that was easily done once he returned his gaze to the case file in front of him. He had memorized every horrible detail over the past three days. With a sigh he pushed the file onto Maggie's desk and met her eyes, trying his best to convey the gravity of the situation. "Okay, Michaels, I'm gonna give you the run down before I let you open this up. There aren't a lot of murders worse than this one right here, and you'd better be damn sure you're as good as you think you are, because I want to catch this sicko now, understand?"
Maggie bristled slightly at his tone, not sure whether he meant to be insulting or just intense. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and looked solemnly down at the file before her. Despite her bravado, it was true that any case like this tended to hit her hard. Fortunately, she was good at turning her own anguish into determination, and she had never yet failed to catch a child murderer when she was on the case. "I got it, Ambrose. If I wasn't good enough, I wouldn't be here." She did her best to meet his heated blue gaze with an equal intensity.
He nodded and removed his hand from the file, allowing her to finally open it on her own. As she did, she noticed he turned his attention back to his cup of coffee, and felt rather grateful that he would give her a moment to process this without being scrutinized.
There is no preparing yourself for crime scene photos like this. Even the most hardened of detectives cannot escape the powerful emotions that arise when you come face to face with the horrors that truly depraved human souls can cause. The first page was littered with photographs. A beautiful brunette child beamed at her from the top of the page, her wide blue eyes full of innocence and raw potential. The name under the photo was handwritten, as were most of the notes, and she read it aloud.
"Annabelle Houston, thirteen years old…" she muttered to herself, and though her eyes watered she refused to let the tears fall. Not here. To his credit, Dean kept his eyes politely averted as he finished his coffee.
Her eyes moved to the second photo, and she felt the all too familiar sensation of her sadness being quietly replaced by rage. It was recognizably Annabelle Houston, but just barely. Her body had been found abandoned in a quiet stretch of national forest, literally tossed into the mud and left there. Her face was swollen and her entire body was covered in large, dark bruises. She was still wearing the yellow dress she had been abducted in, but it was torn and sickeningly streaked with blood.
Managing to find her voice at last, Maggie asked, "The blood on her dress… is it only hers, or does some belong to the attacker?" Her eyes never left the photograph.
Dean glanced back at her, seemingly impressed that she would immediately key in on that, "Unfortunately the blood appears to be all hers."
Maggie narrowed her eyes and studied the photograph further. Cause of death was strangulation, dark ligature marks marred the child's small neck. For just a quick flash she could perfectly envision the girl's final, agonizing moments… held down by someone so much stronger, clawing with desperation at the cord tightening around her throat and struggling for another breath that will never come.
Numbly Maggie realized she had been clenching her fists on the desk, and uncurled her hands to reveal deep crescent grooves. With a heavy hearted sigh she rubbed them angrily on her skirt and turned back to her partner. "Any DNA evidence at all? Under the fingernails maybe?"
Dean nodded, "We found skin cells beneath her fingernails. The girl fought him as hard as she could. No DNA match in the database."
"Shit." Maggie continued to flip through the file, finding herself somewhat endeared by the sight of Dean's sprawling, handwritten notes. He had already explored the very avenues she herself would have started with. She found herself forming a grudging admiration for the gruff detective. At least he knew what he was doing. "So you interviewed the family, no leads there? Suspicious relatives, neighbors, anybody?"
He shook his head sadly. "Parents don't seem the type to have any involvement. They're torn to pieces over this… couldn't remember seeing anything suspicious, can't think of anybody who would want to do their daughter harm." He shifted his gaze to the window and allowed his mind to wander back to those interviews and re-digest key moments. "She was snatched right out of the park three blocks from her house. Parents let her walk over there with a friend from school…" he struggled a bit with his memory before remembering her name, "…Hannah Dawson."
Maggie glanced back up with interest. "What does the friend remember?"
"Not much. One minute she was walking with her best friend near the back of the park, and the next minute she was out cold. When she woke up she had a nasty concussion and Annabelle was nowhere to be found. Hospital report says she was hit with a blunt object of some kind." He shook his head with anger and finally met her eyes again. She almost shuddered at the raw emotion in his gaze. "Nobody else in the park saw anything."
She took a deep breath and got a hold of herself, turning the situation over in her mind. "Okay, Ambrose…" she began, giving the file a final flip through before she was sure she had memorized everything important. "So we've got a thirteen year old victim, who was sexually assaulted before she was strangled to death… and no suspects whatsoever?"
"That's right, Michaels. Where do you suggest we go from here?" He pulled the file back to his desk and flipped through it angrily himself.
Maggie leaned back in her chair, genuinely surprised that he was willing to trust her opinion enough to ask for it. "Well, I suppose you searched the area around the park for sex offenders? Sent officers door to door asking if anyone saw anything?"
Ambrose nodded impatiently and ran a hand through his unruly dirty blonde hair. "Done and done. Nada."
She nodded, going through the facts again in her mind, "How about the area near where she was found? The report says it was a small chunk of national forest, did you speak to nearby property owners? It's possible our psycho snatched her from town but dumped the body closer to wherever he calls home."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Well now, that's a damn good idea." He coughed as if noticing he had complimented her and gruffly continued, "I'll pull up a map and grab us some addresses to investigate. Go let the Chief know we'll be spending our day out in the boonies. We could get a good lead out there, so I'm not going to trust this to anyone else." He turned his electric blue eyes to look her up and down once again. "Tell me you've got different shoes to wear."
She felt her face flush in embarrassment, and had to look away from his cocky smirk to regain her composure. "I can handle it. I've certainly faced worse challenges than walking down a dirt driveway in heels." Quickly she pushed herself back from the desk and rose to her feet, and when she glanced back up she decided to show him she could be just as cocky as he was. "Don't fret yourself over me, Ambrose. Worry more about keeping your coffee in your cup instead of all over your shirt."
She couldn't help but let out a light giggle as his face contorted in indignation, and before he could come up with a suitably clever reply she had turned on her heel and set off to let the Chief know their plans.
Hunter watched silently from his office window as his niece climbed in the passenger seat of Dean Ambrose's Dodge Challenger and drove away. For what was certainly not the first time that day, he wondered if he had done the right thing partnering them together. Individually, they were definitely the best homicide detectives he had, but… with everything Maggie had been through… he was beginning to doubt his decision to pair her with someone who had such a reputation for being insensitive.
With a sigh of resignation he stepped away from the window and sat heavily at his desk. He ran his hands over his short buzzed hair and resumed massaging his temples. He would have to trust that Maggie was strong enough to handle her new partner. Deep down he was truly sure that she was, but after being absent from her life for so many years he couldn't help but feel extra protective. So for now, he would keep a close eye on them. It'd be a cold day in hell before he let someone hurt his niece when she was already so vulnerable.
Dean rode with the windows down, and lit himself a cigarette as they pulled out of the station parking lot. He couldn't help but realize that this was literally the first time he had a woman in his car without the intention of taking her home for a one night stand. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, he exhaled slowly and tuned the radio to the local rock station, eager for some noise to fill the silence. Still he couldn't get over the boldness of this woman.
He tended to treat everyone with the same general attitude, and it mostly boiled down to 'don't fuck with me, or I'll make sure you regret it.' His cockiness had been well earned. He had fought his whole life, from his broken family in the slums in Cincinnati to police academy. For years he proved himself time and time again to be the best, until finally he had worked his way to the detective job he had always wanted. Now he did his best to bring justice to the world, one case at a time, and he sure as hell didn't take shit from anybody anymore.
Stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, his mind wandered again to the woman sitting next to him. He spared a quick glance in her direction, marveling again at her raw beauty. She just looked way too naïve to be a homicide detective. Then again, she had risen above and beyond every challenge he had presented her with today. Hell, after the way he'd unleashed his temper the first moment they met he wouldn't have blamed her if she'd demanded a different partner.
Somehow, he believed she did have the guts to handle this case. Maybe even the guts to handle being around him for an extended period of time. He smirked at that thought, and realized that he had never had a partnership last more than four months. Yet as he studied Magnolia, he could sense that she was so much more beneath the surface than he had ever dealt with before. This girl had secrets… and an inner strength that may even surpass his own.
As if she was knew what he was thinking, Maggie turned and fixed him with a curious gaze, her bright eyes twinkling with some hidden thought.
"Yes, Michaels?" He grumbled, slightly uncomfortable at being the focus of her rapt attention.
Her lips quirked suddenly into an amused smile and she returned to looking out the windshield. "Just wasn't sure if you realized this is our exit."
"Fuck!" At the last minute Dean managed to deftly swerve the car onto the exit ramp, quickly lowering his speed. As he got the car back under control and pulled onto the smaller road that would lead to their first destination, she literally giggled at him.
A/N: To everybody who's enjoying it so far, thanks for sticking with me! Please take the time to review and tell me what you think... I love working on this story, but it's your encouragement that keeps me going! Coming up next, the special appearance of one of my favorites... Paul Heyman! ^_^
