The usual disclaimers apply.
A/N: I'm not a lawyer or law student, so my legal knowledge is pretty much based off the criminal investigation shows I watch. Like Common Law. If an error is especially glaring, please let me know. Thanks.
No Rest for the Wicked
Two women walked into a rental office space. An impersonal room on the first floor of a three-story brick building. White laminate floors, light gray walls, and windows galore on the two exterior walls. It was a room large enough to host dance lessons or several rows of cubicles, but a small circle of chairs occupied the center of the room today. The women were the last to arrive to the meeting.
The first, blonde-haired and scowling, was dressed impeccably in a light gray pantsuit with a pale blue blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a strict bun and her matching gray loafers were sensible but stylish. The second woman wore comfortable jeans, a black leather jacket, and a smirk. Her long brown hair billowed loosely around her shoulders and her boots were black with barely any heel.
"Ah, you found us. Welcome, welcome," a smiling man stood up and gestured for the two women to join those sitting in the circle of chairs. He was about their age and dark-haired. "I'm Dr. Merlyn, and you must be Dinah and Laurel." The women were doing a remarkable job of not acknowledging each other even as they walked side-by-side.
"Dinah Drake," the brunette said.
"Laurel Lance," the blonde added. They took the only remaining seats in the circle, sitting next to each other and almost directly across from Dr. Merlyn. There were six more people in the group, all couples.
"This is Barry and Iris," Dr. Merlyn gestured to the couple on his right, who were to the left of Laurel. "Then we have Jefferson and Lynn, and Roy and Thea." Merlyn indicated the first couple to his left, and then the couple to the right of Dinah.
"I think it's wonderful you're seeking help. We voted for you," Lynn leaned around her husband to smile at the newcomers to the group.
"What? No. We're not a couple," Dinah denied immediately.
"We're partners, detectives," Laurel clarified. She pulled back her blazer to brandish the gold shield on her hip while Dinah tugged her shield out from under her shirt. Lynn let out a soft "oh" and sat back in her seat.
"Why are you in couples' therapy then?" Barry inquired politely, though that still earned him a small smack on the shoulder from his wife.
"A strong partnership, whether romantic or platonic, is built on the same foundation," Dr. Merlyn tried to redirect the conversation back to the focus of the meeting.
"A partnership also works better if one half doesn't have anger management issues and no respect for the law," Laurel snarked.
"If you hadn't pulled your gun on me, we wouldn't be here," Dinah shot back.
"I wouldn't have had to, if you'd listened to me and used your head," Laurel snapped. Dinah scoffed. "Right, because the great Lance is never wrong."
"Detectives, Laurel, Dinah, please. We aren't here to argue, but to find a better means of communication," Merlyn interrupted. The detectives quieted, but only stopped glaring at each other when they turned to face the doctor instead. "You know, why don't we discuss communication today? Specifically, how to talk to each other when we have a disagreement without arguing or speaking in the heat of the moment."
Dr. Merlyn turned to look at Jefferson and Lynn, to begin the discussion with an example from them. At that exact second, two phones went off. Dinah and Laurel fished out their guilty cells. Dinah smiled in a relief while Laurel remained stoic. "Sorry doc, duty calls."
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A sleek silver compact rolled into a parking spot at the edge of a city park near a walking trail. Two police cruisers and cautionary tape already marked the scene. Laurel and Dinah stepped out of the car, the latter complaining; "All I'm saying is you drive like an old lady and your taste in music should be illegal."
"I'm not going to flout traffic laws just because I wear a badge, and my taste in music is better than yours," Laurel grumbled as they crossed under the tape and beneath a pedestrian bridge.
"I thought they broke you two up," the medical examiner, Dr. Caitlin Snow, commented as she inspected the body.
"The Powers that Be thought it would be more interesting to see which one of us killed the other first," Dinah retorted without missing a beat.
Laurel rolled her eyes at Dinah's immature response, then focused on the case at hand. "What can you tell us about the vic?" Dinah ignored Laurel and squatted next to Caitlin and the body.
"John Doe, I'm afraid. Caucasian, late twenties. Stabbed twice in the lower abdomen," Caitlin answered, pulling back the victim's bloody shirt to reveal the wounds; "Died of exsanguination."
"Not a lot of blood around here for wounds like that," Dinah noted.
"See the discoloration here," the doctor had to push the body onto its side to give the detectives a peak; "This tells me the body was moved after death, probably in the tarp we found him under."
"So, our vic was stabbed and bled to death at another location, then transported here and dumped. This isn't exactly an out of the way place to hide a body, which means the killer wanted him found. Then why take the wallet and ID, and the vic's shoes?" Dinah wondered.
"Look closer at the shirt and pants. They're expensive brands. Whoever our victim was, he didn't belong in this neighborhood," Laurel looked at either end of the underpass.
The locals had gathered at the edges of the police tape. The only brand names the people of the Glades saw were from a thrift shop or local charity. Dinah rejoined her partner, standing to examine the scene and the neighborhood to understand why their killer would leave the body here.
"South exit, eleven o'clock. Black hoodie, slender build. Those are Wayne's if I'm not mistaken," Laurel noted quietly. Dinah discreetly checked out the young man, pretending to fix her hair. She noted the shoes her partner had spotted. "I see him."
"Ten bucks he runs," Laurel murmured as she and Dinah began to casually walk in the direction of their target. Dinah snorted and didn't take the bet.
They didn't get more than ten paces before the youth rabbited. Dinah cursed as she and Laurel broke into a run. Pedestrians, without fail, hindered them; giving the youngster a head start as they cleared the crime scene. The detectives chased him from the bridge, back into the urban environment off the interstate. The youth tried to lose them among several brick apartments with first floor stores, but the detectives split up. Laurel stayed on his tail, sprinting to make up the lost ground, while Dinah cut through an open store. She burst out the back door and came out right on the youth's heels. She grabbed his hoodie and wrangled him into the nearest wall. Laurel reached them a second later and aimed her gun at the suspect. He stopped struggling immediately.
"I didn't do nothin'," he panted.
"If you didn't do anything, why'd you run?" Laurel retorted.
"I don't like cops."
"Detectives. We're detectives," Dinah huffed as she checked the youth for an ID. She found two wallets on him and tossed the cheaper, frayed one to Laurel.
"You're going to want to try better than that, Marcus Chavis," Laurel drawled.
"Start with why you've got Clyde Mardon's wallet on you, and his shoes. Did you kill him?" Dinah questioned. She found a switchblade on the kid as well and dangled the weapon in his face.
"No! I found this stuff. Not like the dead guy needs them. Finders keepers and all that," Marcus said, but his nerves gave him away.
"Found it, I'd say, right after he killed Clyde. We've got a knife and Mardon's possessions on him. Looks like a robbery gone wrong to me. Let's book him and let him sweat a night in jail, bet he'll be more talkative then," Laurel pulled out her handcuffs.
"You can't do that," Marcus denied.
"Sure, we can. Who do you think the jury's going to believe? Two well-respected detectives or some punk from the Glades who takes a dead man's shoes," Dinah wrestled him around, getting his hands behind his back. She clamped the handcuffs on and he freaked.
"Wait, wait. I didn't kill that guy. I found him like that, took his shoes and wallet, that's all."
"Yeah, not buying it. You got to give us more," Laurel said.
"A blue van! I saw a blue van stalled at the underpass for a long time. Then it took off in a hurry. That's why I went to check it out."
"What kind of blue van?" Dinah demanded.
"I dunno, it was blue and a van."
"What time did you see this van?"
"Around five o'clock this morning. It made a lot of noise when it came in, and went it shot away. That's proof, right? You're not going to arrest me, are you?"
"Of course, we are. Just not for murder. You stole from a dead body and ran from a crime scene with evidence," Laurel informed him, and Marcus hung his head in defeat.
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Dinah and Laurel had handed off their small-time thief and dropped the stolen evidence with CSU. Marcus had also snagged a phone off Clyde and their resident geek was very pleased to be of use. They'd just returned to their bullpen when their captain stepped out of his office.
"Drake, Lance. A word. Now," John Diggle barked.
"What did you do now?" Laurel huffed as they hastened to obey.
"Me? What about you?" Dinah replied. The ladies glared at each other briefly until they reached Diggle's door, where they immediately focused their attention on him. "Something up, Captain?"
"Oh, I just wanted to see how your first therapy session went. Dr. Merlyn is a real-life saver."
"Our therapy sessions are supposed to be confidential, sir," Laurel answered politely.
"Yes, of course. I remember. You know, if it weren't for Dr. Merlyn, Lyla and I probably would've divorced, again. That man almost single-handedly saved our marriage, so I know you two are in good hands. And if you put in the effort, it will do wonders for your partnership."
Dinah and Laurel shared an exasperated look, which Diggle missed as he was staring fondly at a picture of his wife. "Just remember detectives, if this doesn't work, your careers are over." Perhaps he wasn't that distracted as they'd originally thought.
"Is that all, Captain?" Dinah asked, itching to get back to work.
"No, there is one more thing. Clyde Mardon's father has pull down in City Hall. The DA wanted to reassign this case to Hall and Schott. I convinced him to leave the case in the hands of our best detectives, that you two had settled your differences. So, you'd better not prove me wrong," John gave them both a hard look.
"You've got nothing to fear, Captain. Lance and I here are all good, we're besties now," Dinah replied, clapping Laurel on the back.
"We're professionals, sir," Laurel agreed, shrugging her shoulder to remove Dinah's hand.
"We'll see about that. Now go, solve a murder," John waved them out of his office.
Laurel waited until they were out of earshot before rounding on Dinah. "If you ever touch me like that again, I'll shoot you."
"Please, as if you could shoot me. We both know I'm the better shot," Dinah retorted. Laurel scoffed at her claim.
They returned to their desks. They had some paperwork to fill-out regarding the arrest they'd made, an initial crime scene analysis to review, and some background digging to do into their victim. With a few eye-rolls and withering looks, they set about their tasks.
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Joshua Mardon, father of the late Clyde Mardon, owned a very nice house in the Central District of the ocean bluff city. Three acres of landscaped forest and greenery with a large backyard pool, a seven-foot gated fence, and at least five thousand square feet of house. Dinah mocked envious as they rolled up the winding drive and asked Laurel if she missed her chance to own such swag; Laurel shot her partner an unamused glare.
They were both completely professional when they met with Joshua Mardon on his back patio, which was almost the size of Dinah's studio. There they delivered the sad news of Clyde's death to his father. "You have our condolences, sir."
"Clyde, oh Clyde," Joshua murmured his son's name sadly, but not stricken, at the information.
"My apologies, sir, but you don't appear to be shaken with this news," Laurel commented, because most people were shocked when their child randomly ended up dead at the prime of life.
"I understand your concern, detective. The truth is I've been expecting this for years. Ever since Clyde got hooked on those cursed drugs," Joshua sighed, his weariness and age showing for second on his well-tanned face.
"Clyde was an addict?" Dinah prompted gently.
"To heroin. He OD'd, didn't he?"
"No, Mr. Mardon. We're sorry to inform you, your son was murdered."
"Murdered?" Joshua gasped, horrified.
"Yes. Do you know if he knew anyone in the Starling area of the Glades?" Dinah asked.
"Uh, Starling area you said. That's where the city built a park, correct? Clyde's dealer lived around there I believe. He was supposed to be in rehab, you know," Joshua Mardon rambled, the shock setting in; "I didn't think he'd last. This was the third time I put him in rehab in as many years. My son had a weakness for drugs, he just couldn't seem to kick it."
"When was the last time you spoke to or saw Clyde?" Dinah helped keep Joshua focused, shifting to be in the white-haired man's line of sight.
"That would've been two weeks ago. Clyde received his one-month sobriety chip."
"We'll need to know what rehab Clyde was staying at, and we'll need your permission to search his room, to look for clues," Laurel mentioned. Joshua nodded in mute understanding.
Joshua's phone chirped and he looked at the screen. Pain rippled anew across his face at what he saw. "Who was that?" Dinah inquired.
"My younger son, Mark. He doesn't know about Clyde – how I am supposed to tell him his brother was murdered?"
"Were Clyde and Mark close?"
"Yes. Ever since they were boys, but Mark is smart. He's in college, has a 4.0 GPA. He's always been the good son. He's going to be devastated." The detectives gave him a moment as he shuddered in grief before making a herculean effort to refocus on them and their questions.
"Do you recognize this phone number?" Laurel handed Joshua a paper slip with a number written on it.
"No, should I?"
"It was the last number Clyde called on his phone," Dinah explained; "We're going to need to speak with Mark."
"He's at class now. I need a chance to break this to him gently."
"If you'll give us his number, we'll set up an interview with him later," Laurel conceded. Joshua nodded and gave them Mark's phone number.
They thanked him and showed themselves out. When their backs were to them, Joshua Mardon slumped, hiding his face in his hands.
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Dr. Merlyn's couples therapy group was meeting again in the rented office space. They sat in a circle while he led another discussion, this time about one's partner's annoying habits.
"I guess I'd have to say, what bothers me the most is how I'm always the bad guy at home. Jefferson never wants to punish the girls, even when they admit to breaking one of our rules," Lynn finished her thought with an exasperated look for her husband.
"Jefferson, anything you'd like to say?" Dr. Merlyn asked.
"I'll admit, maybe I do go soft on the girls at home. It's because I know it's not easy for them at school, having me as their principal. I expect more of them there than I do the other students, because they're a reflection of me, and I guess I want a time when they don't feel that pressure from me," Jeff admitted.
"While it's good you want to have a meaningful relationship with your daughters, you have to remember it's important to set a united front. Otherwise, Lynn will feel alone in times of conflict," Merlyn counseled.
"You're right. I'm sorry, baby," Jefferson offered Lynn an earnest, apologetic smile; "I'll try and do better."
"We can discuss how you can work together to address these problems in a minute. Roy and Thea, would you like to go next?"
"Oh, I can't think of anything that bothers me," Thea shrugged with a loving look for Roy. He voiced a similar sentiment.
Laurel scoffed.
"You disagree, why?" Dr. Merlyn turned on her. The rest of the group looked at her as well, Dinah raising her eyebrows challengingly. Laurel stiffened her shoulders and jutted her chin just a touch.
"Everyone has their pet peeves. Even with those they love the most. Take you two for example," Laurel nodded at Thea and Roy; "You wear the best brands and you're very careful about your looks. Roy, on the other hand, is wearing an old hoodie with a greasy stain on the sleeve. I bet he leaves his dirty clothes wherever he drops them and that annoys you to no end, while she buys you new clothes and nags you to wear the latest fashion when you just want your comfortable t-shirt and jeans."
The pinched expression on Thea's face and Roy's refusal to look at his wife, suggested Laurel had hit a particular vexation on the head. "See, I'm right. The people we love the most are usually the ones we want to strangle most often."
"What about you? What does Dinah do that you wish she wouldn't?" Merlyn asked before either Roy or Thea could get defensive.
"She's sloppy, obdurate, and impetuous," Laurel replied immediately.
"Dinah?"
"She's neurotic, likes to use big words to show off, and is a control freak. Take her car for example. She never lets me drive it or bring food into it and she takes over two spots, parking at an angle, every time."
"It's a Mercedes-Benz, of course I'm not going to let you drive it or leave stains because your drink or food "accidently" spills. And I park that way so that no one dents or scratches my car."
"Oliver wouldn't care," Dinah retorted.
"Don't play that card, it makes you sound like a puerile child," Laurel scowled at Dinah. "Who's Oliver?" Dr. Merlyn asked.
"No one," Laurel answered.
"Her ex-fiancé," Dinah clarified.
"You were engaged?" Iris looked surprised, and she wasn't the only one.
"Did he decide he couldn't handle your job?" Barry asked.
"No," Laurel tossed a glare Barry's way for that prying question.
"She broke up with him," Dinah answered, enjoying her partner's torment.
"Was he a slob?" Roy muttered.
"I don't want to talk about Oliver. Dr. Merlyn?"
Merlyn could see the situation had gotten out of hand and that Laurel was about to go firmly on the defensive. He quickly redirected the conversation back to the original topic. Dinah smirked for a while, liking nothing better than to get under her partner's cool demeanor and rile her up. Laurel spent the rest of the session refuse to talk and glowering at everyone who so much as glanced her way.
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Dr. Snow had finished her autopsy, so Dinah and Laurel visited her after their therapy session.
"Unfortunately, the killer didn't leave any DNA samples," Dr. Snow began. "How rude," Dinah quipped. That earned her a frown from Laurel and an eye roll from Caitlin. "I can tell you that the knife used was one-fourth an inch thick with a hilt and a partially serrated blade. Possibly a hunting knife."
"So, we might be looking for a hunter," Dinah theorized.
"Or someone who owns a hunting knife, collects them, maybe even borrowed one for the occasion," Laurel retorted. A reminder to not jump ahead in ruling out potential suspects. Dinah scowled as she'd only been postulating.
"I did find traces of ammonia and natural biopolymers on the victim's skin – at some point, before Clyde Mardon died, he was near an aquarium," Caitlin added; "But that's all I've got for you. Though I heard Cisco might have more."
"Thanks, Doc," Dinah said, and Laurel echoed as they left the morgue behind.
They passed Detective Hall sharing a quick smooch with her boyfriend in the hall and Laurel's back stiffened at the sight. She kept her eyes forward and marched towards the elevator. Dinah scowled at the couple, muttering under her breath; "Marking our territory are we, McKenna? What's next, seeing whose gun is bigger?"
"Stop it," Laurel lectured, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips in appreciation.
They stepped onto the elevator and mashed the button that would take them to the CSU's floor. A voice called out to them to hold the door and Dinah hee-hawed for a moment, then held the elevator. She stepped to the back of the cart, leaving room next to Laurel for the next body. McKenna Hall's current boyfriend slipped onto the cart with them, offering Laurel an apologetic smile for what she'd seen, but she kept her eyes forward.
"Hello, Laurel. Dinah," Oliver Queen greeted. He gave Dinah a friendly smile, but his gaze kept darting to Laurel who barely nodded to acknowledge his presence.
"Hi Oliver, how long has that been going on?" Dinah questioned and studiously ignored Laurel's venomous glare.
"A few months," he answered, serious.
"Really? Hall's usually a flavor of the month kind of girl, you must be something special."
"I heard you won the Waller trial. Three counts first-degree murder. And against Leonard Snart. That must've been quite the battle of rhetoric in your closing arguments," Laurel forced the conversation to change; "But then you were always great at injecting pathos at the right places."
"Thank you, but it wasn't all me. Detectives Darhk and Garrick brought me a strong case," Oliver shrugged humbly and offered Laurel a warm smile which she hesitantly returned. "I heard you two did a little undercover work to arrest Ricardo Diaz."
"It was nothing," Laurel looked away again.
"Yes, because playing a high-end escort is the dream of every female cop," Dinah said sarcastically; "Though, Laur here had Diaz drooling in a skintight emerald dress."
Dinah smirked when she saw Oliver make a double fist – probably imagining pounding in Diaz's face for even glancing at Laurel. He kept his face neutral, but he was an open book to Dinah. As a bonus, making Oliver jealous also served to annoy Laurel. "What case are you working now?" Oliver asked, trying to keep his tone nonchalant.
"A murder. Body dumped in the Glades. Victim had a drug problem which appears to be a smokescreen the killer is trying to hide behind," Laurel answered.
"You know, McKenna's lucky to have you. Laurel and I can't seem to catch any luck in the dating department," Dinah sighed, watching the other two as she leaned against the wall.
"Are you taking Sara this weekend?" Oliver asked Laurel, ignoring Dinah.
"Yes, I'm taking her to my mom's. We haven't been in while. I'll try and be over around eight on Saturday."
"Okay," Oliver nodded. The elevator opened at his floor, and he climbed off with a farewell wave to both detectives.
Dinah rejoined Laurel at the front of the cart and received a death glare. "What?"
"Butt out of my relationships," Laurel hissed.
Dinah cackled and made no such promises. They exited on the CSU's floor and found their favorite geek pretending to drum at his desk. Laurel tugged one of his earbuds out. "Hey Cisco, what do you have for us?"
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"Man, if this was the kind of rehab I could afford, I might fake an addiction, to chocolate, to get in here," Dinah joked as she looked around the resort.
"You do have an addiction to chocolate," Laurel tutted.
The Rogues' Rehabilitation and Healing center was more a spa retreat than anything else. There were two pools, an ocean view, and quaint shacks that featured all the amenities one could need. The detectives walked down a stone path with palm trees everywhere, looking for the director of the center.
"Excuse me, miss, could you point us to the man in charge?" Dinah stopped a slim woman with curly black hair. The detectives showed their shields to speed up her cooperation.
"Are you here about Clyde?" the woman asked with a sniff. Her eyes were red, and she clutched a tissue in her hand.
"And you are?" Laurel asked instead.
"Shawna Baez," the woman sniffled; "Is it true, Clyde was … murdered?"
"That will be all, Ms. Baez. Why don't you head to the café and get a nice cup of chamomile tea?" a balding, older man said, laying a comforting hand on Shawna's shoulder. She nodded and scampered away. "Hello there, detectives. I'm Director Lane, this is my rehab center. Mr. Mardon called, said you had permission to search his son's suite. If you'll follow me."
Director Lane was an easy man to get talking, but a difficult man to keep on topic. They asked him a few routine questions about Clyde and how well he knew his patient. Lane took the conversation from there and began to vaunt his program and his own good deeds while pretending to discuss Mardon.
"Is that an aquarium?"
"Yes, all our suites have one. New research has suggested that caring for a pet is very beneficial in the recovery process. I personally . . ."
Dinah and Laurel let him blab while they were busy searching Clyde's room for clues. He was easy to drone out, and occasionally an insight into the program and Mardon slipped into his dialogue. A couple times, Dinah caught Laurel's eye, out of Lane's sight, and rolled her eyes.
There was no evidence of the murder taking place in Clyde's suite. However, in a shoe box under his bed, Laurel found a possible motive. Dinah whistled.
"That looks like what, half a kilo, of heroin?"
"It does indeed. Care to explain how this got on your premise, Director Lane?" Laurel arched an eyebrow at the shocked man.
"I don't know, drugs are strictly forbidden. All clients are carefully searched when they enter the program and random drug sweeps are conducted to ensure they keep to their sobriety. I don't know how we could've missed this."
"Maybe one of your employees smuggled in some fun for the rich boys and girls," Dinah suggested. Director Lane shook his head vehemently. "No, none of my people would've done it. They wouldn't do that to me. Clients are allowed visitors; those meetings aren't strictly monitored. Clyde must've had someone sneak him in the drugs then."
"Do you keep a log of these visitors?" Laurel followed up. Lane gave an affirmative. "Please, get us a copy of Clyde's visitors for the last three months."
Lane marched away, muttering to himself. Laurel and Dinah continued to search the suite for any drug paraphernalia or large pockets of cash. Shawna Baez popped up in the doorway almost as soon as Lane was out of sight. "So, it was murder then. How terrible."
"Did you know the victim well?" Dinah focused on the potential witness.
"As well as you can know anyone in the program," Shawna shrugged. "Clyde and I entered at about the same time."
"Did he ever try to sell you drugs?"
"No, I'm here because I hit rock bottom. I want to get clean, but I'm not surprised about Clyde. He said the first day he arrived that his old man had forced him to come – he wasn't ready to kick the habit yet."
"Did you ever see Clyde selling to any of the other patients or employees? Has he been acting different or unusual in the last few weeks?"
"No," Shawna shook her head but bit her lip.
"What is it?" Laurel prompted firmly.
"I didn't think anything of it at the time, but a couple days ago I overheard Clyde arguing with someone on the phone. I think it was his brother, and he was super pissed after the call ended," Shawna revealed hesitantly. "I think they were arguing about money."
"Here it is, detectives. Ms. Baez, what are you doing here?" Director Lane had returned with a clipboard in hand.
"She was just answering some of our questions, helping us get a better picture of Clyde's last days," Laurel smoothed over any rumpled feathers while Dinah took the visitor log off Lane's hands. Shawna ducked her head and skittered away.
"Look at this, Mark Mardon visits his brother weekly, like clockwork," Dinah pointed to the recurring name on the visitor log; "He's the only one who's visited Clyde in the last month."
"Is there anything else I can help you with, detectives?" Lane asked politely, but a touch impatiently.
"Actually, there is. I saw a blue van in your parking lot on the way in, who does it belong to?" Laurel checked. Lane blanched immediately. "Director?"
"It's mine, but I loan it out to the employees and clients from time to time. I keep the keys in my office."
"Is your office easy to access?"
"Yes."
"And do all the patients know this?"
"Most, including Clyde," Lane admitted.
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Dr. Tommy Merlyn eyed his newest duo and sighed inwardly. Neither wanted to be here, which made his job harder as first he had to convince them that therapy would work before he could actually help them. Today, they'd barely contributed to the discussion. That needed to change.
"Dinah, Laurel, is there anything you'd like to add to the dialogue?"
"Nah, I'm good," Dinah answered with a careless shrug. Laurel gave him a cool look.
"I'm sensing some tension between the two of you, would you like to discuss that?"
"Tension?" Dinah played clueless, giving her partner a wide-eyed look. Laurel kept her focus on Tommy and a small frown graced her lips. "That wasn't a suggestion we get to pass on."
Tommy offered the hint of a smile for Laurel's deduction but quietly waited them out. As expected, Dinah caved first.
"It's our case. We have a viable suspect, but she wants to go over the evidence with a fine-tooth comb before we haul him in."
"All we have is circumstantial evidence. None of which would stand up in court," Laurel clarified. The detectives faced him and the group, barely glancing at each other as they made their arguments.
"Well, it's a good thing we're cops and not a court," Dinah huffed; "We have the drugs and an argument, both of which point to motive. Plus, our suspect had access to the van and the means to pull of the murder. That's all we need to arrest him and grill him for answers."
"We don't have the murder weapon and the motive is debatable. The father said they were close."
"Sometimes the ones we're closest to piss us off the most. You said so yourself," Dinah retorted and extended her chin in Laurel's direction.
"You're taking that out of context!" Laurel snapped. She shifted in her seat to glower at her partner.
"Detectives, why don't we take a deep breath? Let's talk through this, not argue. Dinah, why do you think this suspect is guilty?" Tommy interrupted them and redirected their focus to him.
"It's not about guilt. What we know about the case points to this suspect. We have to follow the evidence, push him for answers if we're going to get the facts of what happened to our victim. We can't go easy because we feel bad for the suspect. We have our jobs to do," Dinah answered him. Calmer.
"All the patients and employees had access to that van. We still don't know where the victim was killed. If we're wrong, the lawyer will shut us down and we'll likely lose our best source of information," Laurel countered, back to her unruffled logic.
Dinah snorted. "This isn't Peter Declan."
"This isn't about him," Laurel denied, splotches of anger on her cheeks.
"Isn't it always with you?" Dinah questioned harshly.
"Who's Peter Declan?" Thea asked for the group.
"No one," Laurel snapped.
"He's the reason Laurel became a cop," Dinah answered.
"He was innocent. If the detectives on his case had done their due diligence, they would've realized it. I became a cop to make sure cases like his don't go trial," Laurel gritted her teeth and explained.
She clammed up after that and Dinah did to, but it was the first piece of real information about herself that she'd voluntarily given the group. Tommy decided to count that as a win. The detectives were still in disagreement over how to handle their suspect when they left, but the tension between them had been cut now that they'd aired their sides. They appeared ready to come to a compromise, but they wouldn't accept his help in doing so.
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Laurel and Dinah observed Mark Mardon through the one-way mirror. His lawyer sat next to him and wasn't particularly happy that he and his client had been kept waiting for a quarter of an hour. Mark, on the other hand, was as cool as a cucumber. The detectives shared a look, to check that the other had noticed this unusual behavior, but neither was quite certain what to make of it.
They entered the room; Laurel first with a thin folder. "Hello, Mark, Counselor. I'm Detective Lance and this is my partner, Detective Drake." She took a seat in front of Mark while Dinah remained standing, leaning against one of the walls.
"You have our condolences on your loss."
"Thank you," Mark ducked his head. There was a flicker of pain, but quickly repressed.
"We have some basic questions. Were you and your brother close?" Laurel opened.
"Yes. I admired Clyde, we were each other's best friend growing up. I loved my brother dearly and I'll do anything to help you catch his killer."
"Did you know your brother was dealing drugs at his rehab center?" Laurel asked.
"No," Mark shook his head in denial; "Clyde was serious about getting clean, he wouldn't have."
"Witnesses heard you and your brother having an argument not long before his death," Dinah mentioned with an unfriendly stare for Mark.
Mark opened his mouth to angrily deny the accusation, but his lawyer cut him off. "My client will neither confirm nor deny such a disagreement, Detective." Laurel cast a stinging glare in Dinah's direction for jumping the gun so early.
"Where were you, Mark, at the time of the murder?"
"At school," Mark answered grumpily after getting the okay from his lawyer.
"That's a lie," Dinah scoffed. They'd checked. "Want to try that again?" Mardon looked to his counsel for advice.
"My client has given you an answer. If you don't believe him, then it's on you to prove otherwise. If you have nothing else, then this interrogation is over."
"Why would Clyde call a Big Belly Burger?" Laurel inquired as Mark and his lawyer rose to leave.
"What do you mean?" Mark's brow furrowed.
"The last number your brother dialed was for a Big Belly Burger, he placed that call right before his death. Do you have any idea why?"
"It wasn't a call, it's a message," Mark leaned eagerly towards Laurel until his lawyer pulled him back a couple inches; "Clyde and I, we developed a code to leave clues for the other as a part of an old game. The first three digits are a reference number. The next three give you the author's last name, we based the system off those old-fashioned flip phones. The last four are part of the title."
"You expect us to believe your brother's last act was to leave a clue for a silly old game?" Dinah's tone dripped disbelief. "You know what I think? You're a chemistry major and your brother's a drug addict. I think you used your smarts and his connections to start your own drug operation, make a quick buck. But your brother probably liked to sample the goods. Got hooked on your own stuff and that's bad for business. Then he got sober and wanted out, but you didn't. He threatened to go to the cops, you snapped. You murdered him. Your own brother."
"No, never. You're just making up lies now," Mark snapped before his lawyer could pull him from the room. He wasn't wrong. Dinah was making up parts the story as she went along, trying to get a rise out of Mardon, and it worked.
"Are you happy?" Laurel asked her partner once they were alone in the room. Mardon's lawyer had made sure to express his displeasure with their tactics before he left.
"You know I'm not."
Mark may have been their best insight into Clyde and now they wouldn't be able to touch him without his lawyer getting in the way. Worse, they hadn't learned anything new that might clear Mark's name or condemn him.
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Dinah and Laurel stood in a conference room. The television on the opposite wall played a segment from the news. Kara Danvers was front and center as she bombarded Mark Mardon with questions about his brother's murder as he tried to get behind the protective gates of his father's home. "Did you kill your brother, Mark?" Kara shouted above the rest. "No!" Mark cried as his lawyer shoved him forward, before he could say any more. The footage jumped back to Kara as she stood outside the Mardon home, wearing her serious-reporter face as she recapped the breaking news of Clyde's murder and the police's suspicions.
The screen went black as DA Palmer set down the remote and frowned at the detectives and Captain Diggle. "This is a disaster, exactly what I didn't want to happen. You assured me, captain, that they were the best for the job, but current evidence suggests otherwise – Joshua Mardon is a powerful man and he isn't pleased. Neither am I."
"We didn't leak this, Ray," Laurel interjected. She'd worked with Ray before becoming a cop, so she was comfortable addressing him on a personal level.
"We'd never compromise an op like this," Dinah agreed.
"I don't care who leaked the story. What I want is an arrest to put this to bed and the two of you can't even agree on a suspect. I want them off the case, John."
"Now, now. Why don't we discuss this is my office? I'm sure we can come to an understanding," Diggle guided the DA out of the conference room, trying to calm down the irate man.
"Tell me for real, did you leak this to the press to force us to back off Mardon?" Dinah rounded on her partner once the men were out of earshot.
"Me? Of course not. I'm not the one who called this case an op. What's that supposed to mean?"
"Op, case. It doesn't matter. I had no motive to go to the press."
"Right," Laurel scoffed. "You know, for all your talk, you're the one who's truly compromised on this case. There are no innocents when it comes to drugs with you."
"That's right, this is my fault. Always is. Because the great Lance is never wrong. Incorruptible. I gotta say, Oliver lucked out the day you dumped him."
"What Vince saw in you, I'll never get," Laurel shot back.
Dinah saw red. She slapped Laurel. Hard. Laurel retaliated with powerful shove that sent Dinah stumbling into the table.
"Detectives!" Diggle barked from the doorway.
"I see the therapy's working so well," Palmer snarked.
Laurel ripped the case file off the table and shoved it into Palmer's hands. "Give it to Hall and Schott. We're done." Then she marched out of the office without a backwards glare.
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Later in the evening, Dinah sat at a bar, nursing her first drink of the night. She'd been there for hours, stewing. The dark aura she cast kept any prowlers away. Even the bartender gave up on her after three tries.
The news was playing again. McKenna and Winn had been quick to make an arrest once they took over the case. Right now, Mark Mardon was sitting in jail for his brother's murder and the press was having a field day. Kara Danvers was all smiles as she interviewed Winn Schott. Dinah was surprised it wasn't Hall on the little screen, she and Danvers were friends outside of work after all – and suddenly the leak made perfect sense. Dinah cursed Hall and herself under her breath.
"Is this seat taken?" Dr. Merlyn sidled up to Dinah, gesturing to the barstool next to her. "If you like," she shrugged. "I'll take a bourbon on the rocks," Tommy ordered with a polite smile for his companion.
"The captain sent you, didn't he? Well, you're wasting your time. I'm not looking to talk. I'm fine with breaking up with Laurel. Glad, actually."
"Who are you trying to convince?" Tommy retorted. "I find it hard to believe that either of you is okay with this. Not when you once took a bullet to save her life. And she disobeyed orders to run into a burning building to find you."
"People change."
"True, but not in this case. What really hurt? That she used Vince against you? Or that she didn't trust you?"
"Vince hurt, but I half-expected her to bring him up. After all, I brought up Oliver first," Dinah admitted regretfully; "Her lack of trust, that cut deeper, because I used to have it."
"Then rebuild it. Show her you want to be partners again. I know Laurel wants it too."
"Oh? Was I your second stop tonight?" Dinah shifted back to her cockier attitude. Tommy didn't comment, knowing he'd gotten through to her.
"You were my first – I knew you'd be alone, drinking. More open to a discussion."
"They're not fooling you either, huh? Do you have any advice?"
"They need to figure their relationship out on their own. You need to just be her partner, not her matchmaker. You're like sisters. Close sisters. In my experience, though siblings may squabble, when the bond is strong, no argument matters in the long run. Because when it counts, you'll have each other's back."
"Arguments, of course," Dinah smirked, a realization coming to her. "Thank you, doc."
The detective dropped a twenty, clapped Tommy on the shoulder, and left the bar with a determined step.
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Laurel rang Oliver's doorbell. Then scanned his neighborhood while she waited. He answered the door a few seconds later. The white shirt he wore sculpted his abs in a way that was entirely unfair. She snapped her eyes back to his face and refused to blush.
"I'm sorry to barge over so late, but can I see Sara?"
"Sure thing," Oliver grinned knowingly at her. He let her pass without another comment and whistled once she was inside.
A golden Labrador ran down the stairs and greeted Laurel with a slobbery kiss. Laurel chortled and gave Sara a good scratch between the ears. Their dog thumped her tail against a lampstand in happiness. After a quick belly rub, Laurel stood up and led Sara to Oliver's backyard. He followed and watched as she played fetch with their three-year-old fur-baby.
"I heard about Dinah. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly as Sara raced down the yard.
"What's there to say? We're over. Probably for the best. All the stress she caused me was bad for my blood pressure," Laurel shrugged, then wrestled the tennis ball away from Sara.
Oliver chuckled and she smiled, rolling her eyes at her own antics. She'd, unfortunately, picked up a couple of Dinah's bad habits over the years.
"You know, things weren't always so difficult between you two. I recall you mentioning on more than one occasion how she pushed you to be a better detective. She helps you think outside the box and loves to get justice as much as you do. You trusted her with everything once, like a sister."
"Yeah, well, sometimes bonds break, and they can't be fixed," Laurel muttered darkly, but her expression was pained.
There was a pregnant pause between them as he sought to find some words of advice for her. Laurel tossed the ball for Sara again.
"Do you have to keep dating my colleagues?" the words slipped out before she could stop them. Laurel winced, hating herself for giving into the need to know. Oliver had always had a way of getting under her skin, even better than Dinah did.
"Excuse me?"
"Dumb doesn't suit you, Ollie. McKenna is the third woman from my precinct you've dated in the last two years. Can't you find someone else to make-out with in a corridor that isn't where I work?"
"This is a free country, Laurel. If I find a woman with a badge attractive, I'll date her, regardless of where she works."
"Oh, so if I dated some of the men from your office, you'd be okay with that?"
"Yes," Oliver ground out.
"Liar."
"What do you want me to say, Laurel? I'll be pissed and jealous if you date anyone who isn't me. You told me to move on and I've tried, but I still love you and I want you in my life, however much of you I can get."
"Oliver, stop."
"That's right. Push me away because you're scared. Because you don't want me to end up hurt. Well, I am hurting, Laurel, and I'm getting sick and tired of this game we're playing. Why can't you let yourself be happy with me? Would it really be so bad?"
Sara whined at their feet. Laurel knelt to pet her, refusing to make eye contact with Oliver or answer him. She'd already said too much as it was. He huffed at her typical response and reentered his house, leaving her on the back porch. Laurel picked up the ball and gave it another toss. She forced her mind away from Oliver and her ever-present feelings for him and returned to the case.
She'd gone to a public library before her visit and investigated the clue Clyde had left his brother. The numbers had led to book on notorious female criminals in the last century. She'd skimmed through the table of contents and a couple chapters, not grasping the message Clyde had been trying to send. She suspected Mark would've known the answer instantly, but there was no chance she'd get to ask him any time soon.
If not for that argument Shawna had overheard, they probably wouldn't have focused on Mark so early in the investigation.
Laurel paused as she reached the tennis ball at her feet. Her mind flipped back to the book. There had been one chapter on Griselda Blanco Restrepo, a drug lord with an estimated body count of over 200. Sara whoofed and nudged Laurel's knee with her nose. Laurel scooped up the ball and pitched it towards the very back of Oliver's yard.
Shawna had been the one to tell them about the argument, which Mark had never confirmed had happened. Shawna had been quick to insert herself into the investigation. Very helpful in giving them answers that pointed towards Clyde and Mark being in on the drug business together. Laurel whipped out her phone and after a pause, she speed-dialed Dinah.
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"Okay, what am I looking for exactly?" Cisco asked as he hauled his kit through the Rogues' center.
"Anything that might point to Shawna having killed Clyde here or moved his body," Dinah explained.
"Shawna Baez, you mean that cute babe Hall and Schott brought in to fill out a witness statement?" Cisco looked shocked.
"She was the only one who heard the supposed argument between Mark and Clyde," Dinah pointed out; "She was also hanging around when one of the patients here admitted to buying drugs off Clyde."
"He was a bit of a twitchy fellow, but we assumed it was because he'd been caught and didn't want to be kicked out. Lane confirmed Baez has a close relationship with the relapsed addict and she'd been cozying up to Clyde recently. She also has a history of selling drugs, not taking them," Laurel added as she and Dinah snapped on gloves before opening the door to Shawna's suite.
"Do you have a warrant for me to search her suite?" Cisco wondered.
"No, but Lane has given you permission to check the grounds around her suite for any evidence. He also granted us permission to search her rooms for drugs, a right she waived when she entered rehab," Laurel reassured him.
The detectives entered the suite while Cisco started searching the areas directly around the path that led to Shawna's place. There was nothing suspicious at a glance in the room, though Dinah noted that Shawna's aquarium appeared to have been recently disturbed. The women split up and searched the suite from top to bottom and checked all the usual and unusual places one might hide drugs. They came up with squat until Dinah returned to the aquarium. On a hunch, she pulled back her sleeve and went fishing at the bottom of the tank. She found a false bottom and underneath, drugs.
"Detectives, I've got blood and some fibers," Cisco called into the room.
Laurel and Dinah shared a satisfied grin. They'd found their killer.
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"So, it was the friend at rehab after all?" Jefferson asked.
"They weren't really friends. Mark told us that Clyde said she only got close to him to see if he'd buy drugs off her," Laurel explained.
"He tried to turn her into Lane, but Lane refused to believe his treatment wasn't working for her. So, Clyde tried to get proof on his own," Dinah added.
"Mark was against the plan. He'd met Shawna a couple of times and she'd flirted with him. He'd developed a bit of a crush on her and refused to believe Clyde's story. That was what they'd argued about. He blamed himself for Clyde's death, because he didn't help his brother," Laurel finished summarizing their victory.
"Did she confess?" Iris wanted to know.
"No. Doesn't matter, we've got enough evidence that she'll be going away a long time," Dinah crowed.
"As happy as I am that you caught the killer and seen to be in a more congenial mood, the case isn't the focus of our conversation today," Tommy interrupted the conversation to get it back on point. "Would you like to discuss how other relationships might affect your partnership?"
"Ours is a professional, working relationship. Other relationships aren't really a factor," Laurel was quick to deny.
"What about this Oliver, your ex?" Thea pointed out.
"There's nothing to say. We aren't in a relationship anymore."
"Riiight," Dinah drawled. "If you won't say anything, I'm more than happy to share the dirty details."
"I don't think that's necessary," Dr. Merlyn shot Dinah an unamused look.
"It's fine. If Dinah wants to talk about Oliver, we can, but only if I get share about Vince after her," Laurel shrugged and shot her partner a smug look. Dinah scowled.
"Who's Vince? Your ex?" Barry looked at Dinah.
"What kind of relationships did you have in mind, doc?" Dinah looked to Tommy, pretending she hadn't heard Barry's question.
"Why don't we start with your other coworkers?" Tommy accepted the segue.
He did make a mental note to circle back to Vince later. There was something about that name that rang a bell, he'd thought so when the captain had first brought the name up, but now he was certain. He needed to do a little research first.
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Dinah waved goodbye to the other couples as she and Laurel headed for the latter's car. They had the rest of the evening off since they wrapped up the Mardon case and Dinah was planning to grill herself a steak in celebration.
"Hey, I'm not picking up Sara until tomorrow. You up for a girls' night out?"
"Sure, why not? Just promise me we won't end up at one of those parties your uptight lawyer friends like the throw."
"I was thinking a bar or a club. I'll be sure to let Ollie know you think he's uptight," Laurel teased at the last part.
"Have you told him about Hall leaking the story to Danvers?"
"No – if I did, I'd just come off as the jealous ex."
"Which you are," Dinah mentioned lightly. Laurel refused to respond. "I'll tell him if you don't."
"Please, don't. I just want him to be happy," Laurel sighed as she unlocked her car.
"What about you? Don't you want to be happy?"
"I'd say the same applies to you," Laurel retorted.
"I'm not ready to move on, not yet," Dinah answered to truthfully. She couldn't move on, not until Vinny's killers were brought to justice, and Laurel understood this.
"What do you say we hit the shooting range first?"
"You mean so I can prove my superiority as a shooter over you? Why not," Dinah smirked, though not as cockily as she normally would.
"As if," Laurel scoffed.
"Challenge accepted."
The End