May 8, 2013 the following morning:
Mike stared out at the impressive blue sky-it seemed boundless and yet fastened around the plane. He was fighting with himself, he wanted to look at it but could not bring himself to. It has been in his wallet, tucked behind his driver's license, since that day. He knew that reading the note again would not do any good—especially since, he was going to see her.
That was more than a year ago. The past is in the past.
He pulled out his wallet to examine his last form of communication with Connie.
"Mike,
I'm sorry.
Connie"
"What was she sorry for?" Mike internally ruminated, "Having to Leave or leaving without talking to me first?". He had wondered about the meaning of her note incessantly since she left. Everything was happening too fast, he could not think straight. Ever since Spencer's DNA was found in LA, he had spent all of his time trying to persuade Jack to authorize his trip, he had forgot to think about what to do once he got there. Mike did not know how behave with Connie. They used to have a great partnership but, he knew, that their kiss and her leaving without saying goodbye, complicated everything between them. It still stung more than a year later. He had only walked away for a moment but when he returned to her party, Jack told him she had already left. Regardless, he would not fault her for leaving to take care of her mother, but it hurt that she left without a word. Now, he hopped on a plane, to fly across the country, at a moment's notice to protect her. Mike did not know what that said about him. But he wanted some kind of closure—even if it meant walking into her new life, where she may be living happily with her family, job, and, perhaps, a boyfriend.
He tried to distance himself from his emotions, "The purpose of this trip is to catch a criminal, not to rehash something that never was,—in the process I may catch up with an old friend but that is it".
Los Angeles Police Department:
After passing through the metal detectors, Mike approached the front desk of the large department.
"Hello, I'm Mike Cutter with the Manhattan District Attorney's Office. I'm looking for Detective Ricardo Morales," the officer at the front desk did not look impressed.
"He is expecting you?"
"Yes.", Mike replied, and mentally banged is head, "Oh, this is going to take a while".
"What division?" he asked, while he started to click around on his computer.
"Homicide"
The officer took a large breath and sighed.
A bald man in a suit came from behind, "Hey Jimmy, I've got this. I've been expecting him and already processed him through security." He pushed a clipboard to Mike, "Just sign this for your security badge."
Mike signed it and the detective handed the clipboard to the officer behind the desk, "Thanks, Jim. See you later."
He began to lead Mike through crowds of people to the elevators, "I take it you're Detective Morales?"
He laughed a bit, "No, I'm his partner Tomas Jaruszalski. We give people his name so they don't have to try to pronounce mine to the front desk".
Mike laughed a bit in response, and stuck his hand out, "Oh, well nice to meet you Detective Jaruszalski", he said the name slowly.
"Nice to meet you too, but please call me TJ.", they shook hands.
"Gladly"
Once upstairs, they entered a conference room that had files helplessly scattered around and a whiteboard with case information posted on it.
A man walked in behind them and introduced himself as Detective Morales, "It's nice to meet you, Mike. Connie has told a lot about you."
"Oh", he replied, slightly surprised.
"Yeah, she had come up with a, let's say, creative scheme for getting evidence excluded from a trial and when I asked her how she came up with it she said had learned it from her old boss."
Mike's face showed a bit of confusion and was about to ask when Morales further explained, "I was a Deputy D.A.—we were partners for almost a year when she first got here."
"Oh, so you left prosecuting to become a detective?"
"Well, I went back to being a detective. Back decades ago, I went to law school at night and worked as a police officer during the day until I reached the DA's office. However, I found myself several months ago hearing the badge call me name. So here I am".
"Morales and I", TJ began, when they paused in conversation, "thought that we would brief you on our case here and when Connie gets here, we thought we would go over your old case from New York."
"Sure, sounds good." Mike paused, and tried to be nonchalant, "When is she going to be here?", but his mouth went dry, and he shifted a bit too uncomfortably.
"She said she had court until eleven, if you don't mind we were planning on working through lunch—it's TJ's turn to buy.", Morales replied.
"Na", Mike said, taking off his suit jacket to throw over his chair, "That's fine with me."
They did not have much to go on. Their case rested on Kyle Spencer's bloody fingerprint found at a murder scene of one his colleagues. Robert White, the victim, was killed in his own kitchen with one of the kitchen knives. A blot of Spencer's blood was found on the underside of the kitchen sink faucet and they were able to left a print in that area also. He claimed that he had cut his finger on a knife the night before the murder, at a party the victim held in his house and that was how his print ended up by the sink. In addition, they could not find a motive for Spencer wanting White dead. Mike was frustrated at the lack of evidence. He had hoped they had a stronger case than this, but had no right to voice his frustrations because the lack of evidence was almost identical to his case in New York. And things managed to be worse, Morales told Mike that when Spencer came to the station for questioning he and Connie bumped into each other in the hall. Although, Morales said, Spencer did not explicitly threaten her, the look that he gave her was unnerving.
Later:
"Why is my heart beating this fast? It's just Mike….", she wondered, as she got off the elevator and walked into the squad room. She immediately stopped in her tracks and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. She saw him through the conference room window. He was standing at the white board, pointing at crime scene photos, and talking to TJ, who was sitting down.
"You know, the door isn't locked. You can go in.", a voice from behind made her jump.
Trying to recover from being startled, she said, "Ricardo, you scared me. Do me a favor and don't sneak up on people who have murders after them, from now on."
"Sorry about that, I had just taken the bell off my neck so the guys at the deli didn't think I was weird.", Morales joked in his response. Because they had worked together long enough at the DA's office, he knew that she would appreciate his humor at a tense time.
She laughed and, then, there was an awkward silence between the two. He could clearly see that something was off with her, but he did not believe that it (at this particular time) was the threat from Spencer.
"What do you say, we go and have some lunch?", he gestured, holding up the bags of food. As he walked in front of her, he threw over his back, "and you can ogle more at your old boss—up close".
He was already opening the door to the conference room, and declaring, "Look who I found", when she yelled at him, "Shut up!"
Over his booming voice, it was hard to hear her outside the room—but they could all the same.
Mike froze, "My God, she looks beautiful. She let her hair grow out….", he inwardly reflected.
She greeted him, "It's great to see a friendly face, Mike."
"It's great to see you too.", he gave her a smile to match her own.
They stared at each other for a long moment that caused TJ and Morales to observe them.
It had been too long since she had seen his piercing blue eyes, and she suddenly felt lightheaded. Connie took a hold of a chair to act as though it was her intention to sit down.
Connie and Mike sat across from another, each trying not to act too obvious in their respective draw to another.
"So, if you guys thought that your murder five years ago was premeditated, what caused the negligent homicide charge?", TJ inquired, trying to end the awkward pause.
"Not enough evidence," Connie stated, "We believe that he killed his wife in their home but he scrubbed the place completely clean by the time we could get a warrant it search it. Then some of the evidence we did have was thrown out on a technicality…. Our case was weak for a murder one charge: we didn't have a crime scene or murder weapon. This guy represents organized crime and gang members, he knows how to clean up a murder scene."
"So what did you have?," inquired Morales.
Mike jumped in, "We had motive: his wife was going to leave him—Spencer's own sister was going to be our star witness and testify to that. His alibi changed a couple of times: at first, he was with a client, and our detectives could not verify that because attorney client privilege prevented him from giving identifying his client. That is until his firm heard of his alibi, then, to cover their asses; they told us that he was not working that night. Then the final story was that he was having a drink, alone, in a bar that didn't have a security camera and he paid cash. Also, knife set in his kitchen was missing a blade that matched his wife's stab wounds—that of course was circumstantial", he said, aggravated.
"Did he threaten you guys at all during the trail?", TJ questioned, the former partners.
"No", Connie answered, "he was actually pleased about the plea deal because the bar only temporarily suspended his license with the negligent homicide charge, rather than the permanent suspension he would have faced with the first degree murder. Considering the fact that he did get the New York Bar to reinstate him and now he is licensed here in California, he was right to be so happy with deal."
"Well", Mike spoke carefully, "Aside from his plea deal, he was particularly upset with Connie because she was the one who talked his sister into testifying against him about his marital problems." His eyes glanced from TJ to Morales before landing on Connie. She found it uncomfortable to return his gaze because his eyes were full of concern and apprehension.
"We didn't know that. What exactly did he do—was there a specific action that he made towards you?," Morales asked, turning to Connie.
"I didn't think that it was a big deal," she replied, defensively.
"Would you let us, who is supposed to protecting you from this murder who traveled almost 3000-miles to a city you happened to live in, decide if it's a big deal," Morales was exasperated.
She shot Mike an unconformable glance before responding, "He had a private detective follow and investigate me." There was a pause before she continued, "He gave some information about my personal life to the defense council in a different case to try to get me removed from a separate case-his plan, we believed, was to taint my credibility. However, he failed and after his trial, he said quote 'I will see you again'. It was less than scary at the time…."
"But now it seems problematic", Morales finished.
She shrugged conceding.
"What about his finances?", TJ asked.
"There were some discrepancies between his income and assets. He had at least double the amount of assets than his income or investments.", Connie answered.
"Double?"
"Yeah, it's hard to believe but we saw the expenses they had—I think there was something like 10 vacation homes in three continents.", Mike piped in, "In addition, he spent almost half a million dollars on high-end prostitutes every week. Mrs. Spencer's dog had its own condo upper Manhattan, worth at least three million."
"You've got to be kidding. Did he disclose this extra income on taxes?", Morales asked, in disbelief.
"Yeah, according the IRS, the millions of dollars, came from a secondary income from consulting work. And we traced the money back to the Cayman Islands, where the trail went cold."
Before anyone could respond, Connie's cellphone vibrated.
"I have to get to court.", she said, standing up to gather her things. Mike politely stood up with her and watched her pack.
She turned to him, "Do you still have the same cellphone number?"
"Yes," he said, nodding his head.
"Alright, so do I", she smiled at him, a little unsure, "I'll, umm, call you later, maybe we can catch up."
"Yeah.", he responded a bit too quickly.
She curtly nodded to the detectives, "Let me know if anything comes up."
"Will do.", Morales said.
Mike watched her leave.
Later: LA Courthouse, 6:30 PM:
Mike, TJ, and Morales walked through the courthouse corridors. They were looking for Connie, as she was supposed to be in court. They found Dekker talking to a lawyer in the hallway but no Connie. Dekker cut his conversation with the lawyer short so he could join the trio.
"Mike, it's good to see you again.", Dekker said, as he reached to shake Mike's hand.
"Yeah, it's good to see you too.", Mike returned his gesture.
"Where is Connie?", Morales inquired.
"Well, we were discussing a plea deal with Mr. Wood, but she got a phone call and snuck off a little while ago."
"Do you know where she went?"
"My guess would be around the corner. I don't think she'll be that hard to find with this place practically empty and, you know, the police escort is pretty conspicuous."
"Yeah.", Morales agreed, as they began to walk.
The four of them came upon Connie and her protection detail in an adjacent hallway. Because she was on the phone, she had taken some distance from the police officers in the empty hallway, near a large window.
The four of them tried to give her distance, but they could still hear her side of the conversation.
"If you left now, you could still make it to Mom and Dad's before he has to leave for work. Oh, I don't know…" frustration and sarcasm was clear in her voice, "Either until we catch the guy or he kills me, whichever is first. Well, I'm not joking. I'm not sure what in the hell your problem is, I'm just asking for a little bit of help. Look, this is temporary and you have the time off at work. It's not like I'm asking you to quit your job and move your ass up here."
At that statement, Mike suddenly felt his stomach drop, for the last year he thought about how well she must like LA with her good position at the DA's office, being close to her family, the fantastic weather, beaches, and the countless men at the ready to enjoy these with her—assuming that her mother was all right. He had asked Jack a few times how her mother was doing but each time he said "there hasn't been much change but she sounds strong". Recently, Mike just assumed her mother was fine because Jack had not said otherwise.
"Well, you're making this more difficult than necessary.", At this point, she began to move around in her agitation, and she spotted the four men waiting for her down the hall. "All right then. Look, I need to go. Yes. Please and think you. Bye."
She wished that they had not heard that, but she was not going to let on that she was fazed.
She turned around with her head held high, "Did something come up?"
"Yeah", TJ said, following along with her, he held up a picture, "Do you recognize this man?"
After staring at it for a moment, she looked back at them, "No, Should I?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Mike, TJ, and Morales looked disappointed.
"Who is he?", she said looking at them.
"His name is Sean Greene. We're not sure of his connection to Spencer.", Morales explained.
"Okay, why should I know him?"
"Well, you shouldn't, really. ", TJ hesitated before handing her a list of the guy's parking violations, "He's gotten three parking tickets within a one block radius of your apartment and two here at the courthouse in a six week period."
Connie examined the list, and froze. "My parents' street address is on here. This last ticket is on my parents' street.", she said, giving TJ back the paper.
"Okay then", Morales began, unsure what to say, "We will increase patrols in their area. But until this is over it may be best for you to stay in a hotel."
"I don't think so. I'm not going to stay with my parents—my brother and sister will take care of that—but I'm not not going to go home.", she retorted firmly.
Morales tried again, "It may be best, they clearly know where you live."
"I don't care, I'm not going to run. I'm not going to hide from this passive aggressive game that this bastard is playing.", Connie was resolute.
"Connie, if you were a witness against this guy like this, we would put you in protective custody in a hotel under an assumed name", Dekker tried to reason.
She just shook her head, "I know, Joe. But I want to sleep in my own bed. I am not going to let this guy manipulate my life—that is what he wants."
"Alright then, we'll arrange everything—I'm also going to double you protection detail", Morales said, giving up.
Dekker's phone beeped, looking at it he said, "Sorry, I have to go—dinner with my wife and daughter. Call me if you need anything.", he sincerely told Connie.
She nodded her head, not quite in the mood to vocalize a response.
"We've got to get going too", Morales gestured between him and TJ, "We're going to help canvas the park area again and search for the murder weapon".
TJ turned to Mike, "I take it you don't want to join us?"
"No thanks."
The three departed for the elevators and left Mike and Connie alone, except for her security detail. They stood awkwardly across from another, neither knowing what to say.
Mike started, "This is a nice courthouse".
"Yeah, all of the windows are great. It's a lot less dark than…New York's".
There was another awkward pause, as they both pretended to study the architecture of the corridor.
Connie abruptly asked, "Would you like to go to dinner?"
Mike stared at her for a moment trying process what she said.
"Sure", he answered, hesitantly.
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