Revenge Part 3
Revenge Part 3
She stared at the bright fluorescent lights washing over her wanting it to be a dream, but it wasn't. It was a nightmarish horror, so vivid, so damaging real that she tried her best to focus on something other than the pain racking her body. She told herself to concentrate on the aspect of the crime itself. She churned it through her mind remembering the way he looked, the way he acted, the words he spoke. It all had meaning and the least detail could be the most significant. She had learned a long time ago never to overlook a single one. As she tore it apart bit by bit the methodical process allowed a blanket of calmness to settle over her, pulling her away from the chaotic torment and hurt deep inside. This was just another case she reasoned, never mind that she was the victim. She would separate herself emotionally, and rationally examine the situation as if it were someone else, and having removed herself from the equation she could view it from the outside, untouched. She was Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, CIA-trained, hard ass bitch, world-class interrogator and she could handle this; by God she was The Closer, tough and strong. She would do everything in her power to see this monster put away, and that's the way it was going to be she decided. Determined, she refused to think about her injuries, her baby, her husband, and put on the slim veneer of strength masking the monumental affliction underneath, which threatened to shatter her into a million pieces. She would slip herself into the world she knew best, the one she was experienced and comfortable with, the one she would hold to with all her might. And this unconscionable act committed against her would be pushed down, impersonalized, because the life changing repercussions were more than she could bear. She was fine, a tower of strength on the outside, one she would permit them to see, but she refused to reveal the damaged empty shell that was on the inside, the one that needed protected.
Dr. Thompson entered the room. She was a petite spunky blond with kind blue eyes who had examined her earlier for life threatening injuries. She walked to Brenda's bedside and patted her arm, "Chief Johnson, you have a crowd out there in the waiting room, and a couple of lady detectives are eager to get your statement. Do you want me to send them in or do you need a little more time?"
"No, you can send them in. And you said earlier that a special nurse was coming to do the forensics?"
"Yes, Regina Lawson, nice gal, the best in the business if you ask me, works pretty close with your LAPD people. I think she knows the two lady detectives rather well. She should be here within the next fifteen minutes or so," Dr. Thompson said looking at the clock on the wall. "She'll do the examination and collect all the evidence." She smiled at Brenda hoping to ease her mind.
"Before the detectives come in I need to speak to Chief Pope first. He's the guy in charge, the bald one," Brenda said, gearing herself for a battle knowing she'd have to strap a pair on for this one.
"Yes, I've spoken with Chief Pope a couple of times. I'll send him in," she said, and turned to go. "Do you need anything?"
Yes, Brenda thought, I need the hands of time turned back to make all this go away. "No, just Chief Pope," she said.
Brenda pulled what was left of her short sleeve blouse around her noticing the deep bruising on her battered arms. She brought the sheet over her shoulders to her neck, tucking her arms underneath. She was still naked waiting for the forensic exam to take place and until that happened nothing could be put on or taken off. She hadn't been at the hospital long, the wheels of the LAPD had been set in motion and things were moving rather quickly.
Pope entered the room and made his way to her side. He was glad that Gabriel had prepared him for this. He had raced to Parker Center when he received the phone call, and after being informed he sought out Gabriel who was sitting quietly in his Jeep clearly upset. Pope moved into the passenger seat noticing that Gabriel wouldn't meet his eye, but stared in the opposite direction looking out the window. Pope spoke first, "I need to know what you know," he said, feeling his heart in his throat, Gabriel's reaction unnerved him. This would be bad, he knew it.
"She's hurt, Chief, real bad," Gabriel said, in monotone, trying to hold it together and doing a poor job of it. "Her whole body was beaten. He threw her into the seat of her car naked and bleeding. I thought she was dead at first. There's no doubt in my mind that he raped her," his voice cracked and he reached up and brushed the wetness from his eyes. "The worse part, she's pregnant. She kept asking God to let her baby be alright." He reached for a tissue he had taken from the box in the console and wiped his nose. Gabriel sniffed, "When we get this guy, I'm going to beat the living shit out of him, and I don't care what Chief Johnson thinks," his sadness now turning to anger.
Pope gasped at the words putting his hand to his bald head plainly agitated. He turned meeting Gabriel's eye this time, "That's if he's brought in alive." Pope said it like a cold steely proclamation, and his eyes embodied the true blue iciness of the Arctic Ocean.
Brenda could see Pope's distressed expression, and when he spoke she heard the gasp in his voice, "Brenda," he said. It was painful to hear the one word spoken so emotionally and she knew immediately this wouldn't work for her. She had to stand solid and firm, which couldn't be done with shaky faltering colleagues. It was hard for him; laying eyes on someone he cared for who looked as if they went ten rounds with George Forman and the agony written on his face and the slight shimmer in his blue eyes told her it was time to put on the breaks, and set things straight from the beginning. There were some things she couldn't allow.
She took her arm from beneath the cover and pointed her finger rudely, "Don't you dare look at me that way," she said, her voice filled with anger. "I don't need this. So stop it right now." She was shooting daggers at him clearly showing she was not to be reckoned with.
He was momentarily shocked at her response, but then realized it was her way of dealing with it. He had to admire her courage to be strong under such appalling circumstances. He could tell she was in her Deputy Chief all-power mode, wanting to call the shots as though his decisions were pitiable and shouldn't be trusted. She wouldn't be easy to deal with, and one side of him didn't want to further agitate an already injured woman. He was walking a fine line of hard choices. He could tell by the look in those determined eyes the next words from her mouth would have to do with working her own case. He would never approve it, but would follow department policy. Commander Taylor's Special Rape Section of the Robbery Homicide Division would take it. They were good at this, and they knew their jobs. She was out and so was PHD. Chief Johnson would have to accept it.
He stared at her awhile before he spoke noticing the fierce look in her dark eyes that never seemed to fade. "You're not handling it, Brenda, so don't even think about it, don't even ask, No...positively No!" he said with finality shaking his head.
She glared at him, "I want in on it with my people. It can officially be Commander Taylor's. I have no problem with that, but I want to work this thing Will. So you need to tell me yes!" She took a deep breath for the rant she was heading into, ""No" is not acceptable. Look at me Will. Look at what this bastard has done. So don't stand there and tell me I can't work this case. I have to work it even if it's without your approval!" She could feel the heat in her face with her veiled threat. She wasn't giving up.
"Brenda, I don't like the way this conversation is going. You need to be taken care of and we can talk about this some other time, but not right now. And one more thing, don't push me on this because I'm not going to be steamrolled. I'm the boss, and I make the decisions so don't press your luck." He said it in a calm, but stern way. He meant business and that meant putting his best people in place to solve this crime, which happened to be RHD's Special Rape Section. The last thing he needed was to deal with PHD shenanigans and he wouldn't be hoodwinked in having his authority undermined. "Brenda, I'm going to go now. You need to be looked after," he said gently patting her hand.
"Will," she grabbed his hand and held it tightly almost in desperation, "please, I'll beg if I have to. Let me in on it." She said it with such earnestness that it touched a sensitive part of his heart and he wasn't sure if he could deny her request, especially seeing the glistening in her brown eyes. He gazed at her closely, trying to read them, and he thought he understood. Working this case…her case…allowed her to hold on. He could feel the slight sting of tears and he quickly blinked them away. Her beaten face looked pitiful, and all he wanted was to catch the son of a bitch and have him pay for what he did, but it was the softer side, the hurt side of Brenda Leigh Johnson that made him change his mind. He nodded his head once, "We'll talk about it later. We'll work it out," he said softly. Without a thought, he bent down and kissed her on the forehead. He held great affection for her, would always love her, and wanted to show how much he cared. He turned to go.
"Will, has anyone talked to Agent Howard?"
He noted the peculiarity of the question, at least in referring to Fritz as Agent Howard, but he didn't say anything in regard to it, "I have a uniform going out to the house now."
"When he gets here I want him out of this room until I say. Alright? Put one of the officers on the door for me because he'll try to get in. I'm sure he'll flash that FBI badge of his, so the officer needs to be prepared. Howard stays out under all circumstances until I call for him. Got it?"
"Brenda, I got it, but are you sure you want this," Will asked in confusion, thinking how hurt and angry Fritz would be, and he didn't want in the middle of it.
Brenda sighed in irritation, "Yes it's what I want or I wouldn't be sayin'!"
The dynamic duo as they were known came into the room. They had 45 years between them working Special Rape and together they did one hell of a job. Marlie Roark was the younger of the two with a sharp deductive mind. She could quickly put a picture together knowing the exact questions to ask. Her only weakness was her people skills, and with being in the upper echelons of intelligence she often came off as cold and unfeeling. It was an unfair statement because nothing could be further from the truth. Fighting for her victims seemed to be her main purpose in life, which led her to make many personal sacrifices for the sake of the job, including the end of her ten year marriage. Mindy Cramer was the older, touchy feely grandmotherly type, and her easy going, good nature more than made up for Marlie's inadequacy. It was her kind eyes and expressions, and a genuine down to earth personableness that made victims feel comfortable in explaining the horrific atrocities committed against them. Marlie the younger petite blond and Mindy the older heavier brunette couldn't be more opposite in their make-up, but together they made the best team in the section and their squad had affectionately and teasingly penned them Roark and Mindy. For them, this case couldn't have been more personal having it happen to one of their own, and it was their intention to relentlessly pursue the perp and to cut off his nuts. They decided this just before entering Chief Johnson's room.
After introductions Mindy grabbed the chair next to the Chief's bed as Mindy stood on the opposite side with her notebook in hand. The interview proved a difficult start, since Chief Johnson herself was being difficult in wanting all her questions answered first. Mindy and Marlie gave each other a knowing look since Chief Pope had forewarned them about Chief Johnson's problematic nature.
"Chief Johnson, with all due respect, we really need to have you answer our questions," Mindy said respectfully, "We know how hard this is, and being the detective yourself you want answers, but at this time we know so very little and I want to change that. We need to get looking for this guy, and you can help us most."
Brenda shook her head, and with a hard look in her eye she gave her long statement explaining every detail she remembered from the time she closed her phone ending the conversation with Fritz, to holding Sgt. Gabriel's hand in her Crown Vic. It was easy since she had gone over it before in her mind, and she was satisfied that her voice never wavered in describing the attack. She was professional, direct, and matter-of-fact. "If they're pulling all the surveillance cameras in the parking garage you may be able to get the plate on the van, maybe if we're lucky a picture of the guy too. Although, I'm sure all the windows were tinted. The decals might help. The inside of the van had no rear seats." Brenda said, reiterating important facts.
"Chief Johnson," Marlie spoke up, "we appreciate your frankness and I think you have given us very useful information. I want to read back what I have, if you need to correct or add just interrupt," she looked at Brenda with her clear blue eyes waiting for acknowledgment then went on, "you left your office just after 12:30 a.m. and talked to your husband on your cell in the parking garage. You notice the navy blue conversion van parked next to your car with its tires on the white markings giving you little space to your door. You presume the owner of the van is LAPD family due to the decals in the rear window. You're at your car door when the perp slides open the van door attacks you with a stun gun. You wake up in the van; you're tied down and sexually assaulted. You are punched, bitten and beaten with a stick. You describe the attacker as a medium build white male, unsure of age, approximately 145 lbs and very strong. He wears a leather mask, gloves and black clothes. He tells you this is payback that now you'll know what it's like to be fucked over. He is making a deal and will let you live, but will do this again someday and will stalk you. He is good for his word like you. You're convinced he is someone you have come in contact with in your career as a law enforcement officer."
"That's all I can remember right now," Brenda said. She decided not to tell them she knew his eyes, but that bit of information would be left for her team.
There was a knock on the door and Regina Lawson poked her head in, "Excuse me ladies. I'm ready to do the forensic exam when you're finished. I just wanted to let you know I was here, Chief Pope's orders."
The hardest part for Regina Lawson was establishing a rapport with her patient since she never knew the state of mind they would be in as she began the forensic collection of evidence. She'd seen it all, at least every reaction possible, from hysterical to disconnected, and just about everything in between. The circumstances were always difficult and she was very sympathetic and understanding of her patient's victimization. This was a life changing personal offense and she wanted the examination to be the least memorable.
She had always used an assistant in the past to hurry things along, but found her patients were more comfortable with just her, and the few extra minutes saved really made no difference anyway. She took her time and explained the entire process, when patients understood the how and why they were less anxious.
She worked as an RN for fifteen years as a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner or as the acronym would have it, a SANE. She was highly trained in collecting forensic evidence from sexual assault victims and worked closely with local law enforcement agencies. She was in high demand and felt it a compliment to her ability. When she received the call that one of LAPD's finest had been brutally assaulted she immediately dropped everything she was doing, and headed straight to the hospital knowing her husband would be a little perturbed she had so abruptly left his loving arms.
She wheeled a cart into the room containing the supplies she would need including the rape kit, and then set it up in an orderly fashion for documentation. She introduced herself, and quickly noticed that Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson had the sheet pulled entirely over her body exposing only her head. Her face was battered with bruising primarily on the left side indicating a right handed attacker. Her eye was swollen and she could already see purple stains underneath. He nailed her good, probably a few times. There was a small bandage on her neck, which would be removed and photographed.
"Brenda, I'm going to explain everything that I'll be doing," Regina said, patting her arm through the sheet, "if you have any questions please ask. I know this is very hard and you may think it humiliating, but I've been doing this for a very long time, and it's just me and you here. I want you to be comfortable. We need to get the evidence and I don't have to tell you how important that is."
Brenda remained silent and only nodded her head.
Regina went on, "You know, if there's someone supportive you'd like to have with you, maybe your husband, we could bring them in."
"No," Brenda snapped, "I have strict orders to keep him out until I'm ready. I don't want him here, especially for this," she said it in a gasp.
"That's fine," Regina said reassuringly, "I only want what's best for you, you want him out then he's out." She smiled and rubbed Brenda's arm this time.
Brenda hated this, and Nurse Regina was being too damn nice and she didn't have the heart to act like a rude bitch, but then she didn't want to fall to pieces either. She'd just have to give herself pep talks for strength with every agonizing step of the process. She sighed despairingly, detesting every moment.
Brenda stood on the white paper spread on the floor and removed the only shred of clothing left on her body. The blouse with the buttons ripped away, was wrapped, bagged and tagged. Regina then photographed every part of her injured body, entailing the bruises, the cuts, and five stun gun burns. As she stood there grimacing inside with every click of the camera, Brenda felt a slow trickle of wetness between her legs. She looked down and saw the dark redness of blood against the stark paleness of her skin. She couldn't take her eyes from it. Reality was closing in on her fast and she felt the swift sting of tears come to her eyes, and her heart pounded out of her chest. Faltering, she thought she was going to pass out, but pleaded to herself to get a grip. She couldn't think about her baby just now, or she'd crack up. She felt the start of small tremors deep within her body threatening to bubble to the surface, but she forced them back to the lowest depths of her soul, where they had to remain.
"Brenda, are you alright?" Regina had been behind her photographing the bruises on her back, and noticed the slight slumping to Brenda's shoulders.
"Are you almost done because I need to sit down? I'm starting to bleed," Brenda said with despondent fear in her voice, and she wiped the lone tear that escaped her black eye.
Regina helped her to the bed, "It won't be much longer Brenda. I'll hurry."
"Did they tell you, that I'm pregnant," Brenda asked squeezing her eyes closed. Be strong she told herself…but thoughts of losing her baby surged through her mind,…she just couldn't think about it and tried her best to block it out.
"Yes, Dr. Thompson informed me, and I read all the chart notes. Brenda, it doesn't mean you've lost it. So hang in there, OK. I've had cases like this and everything turned out fine."
She decided she liked Regina Lawson, saying the one thing she needed to hear giving her hope and strength, and the ability to endure the rest of the exam.
Regina worked quickly and diligently. She photographed areas of bruising and tearing in the pelvic area, and using a Wood's lamp she identified semen stains and collected swabs vaginally and rectally, and on both sides of her inner thighs. They'd be used for DNA analysis and testing for sexually transmitted diseases. She prepared a wet mount of vaginal secretions for motile sperm and preserved additional slides to determine the presence of acid phosphatase an indicator of recent coitus. She combed Brenda's pubic hair for trace evidence in case the assailant left his behind, and then cut Brenda's to be used for comparison. She collected scrapings from underneath Brenda's fingernails in the event she scratched her assailant. Regina went through her list making sure she followed complete protocol, and meticulously documented everything. She drew several tubes of blood for STD checks including HIV. The rape kit was then secured in a box, which Regina would hand over to Detectives Roark and Mindy ensuring the chain of custody.
Brenda was amazed at Regina's efficiency as she looked at the clock. The procedure had gone quickly. "Brenda, you'll be able to take a shower now. Here is a hospital gown and underwear, and there are feminine products in the bathroom. I'm sure Dr. Thompson will want to examine you further. Brenda there is one other thing and it's personal. Have you been with your husband in the last forty-eight hours? If so then I'll need a DNA sample from him."
"He'll be here soon; Chief Pope sent a uniform to get him. Hopefully you won't have to wait long to get the sample," she said. She couldn't think about Fritz right now, it hurt too much.
After a short, hot shower Brenda felt a little better. Fresh sheets with a blanket had been placed on the bed, and she crawled underneath her body still aching. Regina was finishing her investigative notes.
"Brenda, I'm going to hand this over to the LAPD, is there anything I can get for you," Regina said, as she made her way to Brenda's bedside.
"Could you tell Chief Pope that I want my team in here after I see Dr. Thompson, do you mind?"
"I don't mind at all, I'll be glad to," Regina said, giving Brenda a small hug.
"Thanks, Regina. Thank you for everything."
"You're welcome Brenda. I'll be thinking of you."
A/N: Thanks for your reviews. I really appreciate them!