For I Have Sinned
Chapter Seven
The ride to the scene was awkward. An hour sitting next to someone you really didn't know could be. But Yun felt right at home as they turned a corner and she could see stretches of yellow police tape and other cruisers barring entrances and exits to the sprawling shopping complex. One of a kind boutique stores rimmed the cal-de-sac like pearls on a necklace.
Captain Heartilly parked the SUV near a cluster of other police vehicles after being waved in by an officer once she flashed her badge to him. Yun emerged first, adjusting her blazer, unhinging a wedgie, and sliding her aviators back over her eyes as the sun settled on her face. She smirked when she watched the shaking of the car as Angelo lumbered out of the back. Damn that dog was something.
Rinoa promptly harnessed the dog, leash secure in one hand, and told her it was "time to work". The animal's attitude immediately changed. She followed Rinoa step for step, never going further than the lead allowed or pulling against it. Angelo was perfectly in congress with her handler. Together the trio moved across the span of asphalt to the nearest pod of shields, asking the obvious question for tardy folks like themselves.
"Who was in charge?"
"That tall, dark, and grouchy fellow over there." an officer pointed. "Commander Ronsenberg."
Even Angelo turned her hefty head in unison with her humans to look in the designated direction, all three curious if the description was at all accurate. People exaggerate all the time. Though not this time. They could see his sour puss from their twenty yards away.
"How's the investigation going so far?" Rinoa thought it better to continue the discussion here for the moment.
"The body has already been taken to the ME's office and CSI is on its last rounds. Right now we're doing the usual canvasing, collecting statements and all."
"Any potential suspects?"
The officer shook his head. "The body was dumped here in the wee hours of the morning. No one was creeping around here except the sanitation and security guys."
"And you've already interviewed them?"
"Not personally, no, but it has been done."
Rinoa nodded. "What about the shop owners?" Looking around she figured there were at least seven of them.
"We got a hold of a majority of them, maybe two we haven't reached yet. You'll need to talk to the commander for anything else you need."
"Fun." a little shrug. "Thanks anyway."
The trio started in another direction, Yun looking to her partner with a mixture of curiosity and mild amusement. "So you know this Ronsenberg guy?"
"Not personally, but I've heard of him. Twenty years in Homicide is all I know for sure. Heard he's former military, though."
"No kiddin'? Sounds like a real sweetheart."
"We're about to find out."
A sweetheart he most certainly was not. At six-two the man was a stone tower with his creased face made up of edges hard enough to cut yourself on. His short blonde hair was laced with sandy brown and gray, swept back in a no-nonsense way, and his eyes were cold. A large, stiffened scar lay over his left brow. And they would find him to a have a natural growl to his voice, one that was naturally intimidating for most.
He laid eyes on them and scowled, arms crossing. "Took you long enough to get here. Get behind putting your make-up on?"
Yun laughed. Oh, this was going to be fun. "Sure, commander. Lost the spare key to your place to get my eyeliner back."
The scowl deepened. Rinoa saw the change and jumped right in to try and stop the inevitable blow up. "What she means, commander, is that I'm a recent transfer and I got a little lost on the way to pick her up for this assignment. We're from the 163rd, Captain Heartilly and Detective Oerba."
"Hmph, that outfit still in the shitter, huh? Guess it can't be helped. Suppose I need to fill you in on the situation as it stands?"
"It would be appreciated."
Ronsenburg uncrossed his arms and started walking, gesturing for them to follow before starting to talk again. "As with the other cases, all we found was the dump site with no sign of where the murder actually occurred. And while the victim in this instance was female, we're convinced it's still the same perp because of the wounds on the body."
"Any clues as to cause of death?"
"Nothing yet on this newest one, but it seems to me like this guy is more the opportunistic type. But it's beginning to look like there's a pattern to the bodies showing up, a distinct time frame. For us that means we unofficially have a deadline."
"Cheif Katzroy mentioned the lot of us would be working together on this." Yun started.
"There are four of us now, and a headquarters is being set up in the federal extension building as we speak. From there we'll have all the resources and privacy to get this figured out as quickly as possible."
"Who's lucky number four?"
"A crime scene photographer from the 213th, Paine Gallows. She discovered the first body and has been at every subsequent scene since. As it stands she is the foremost authority on this case."
"So she's in charge?"
"No. As senior officer, I am. You got that, detective?" and one frosty blue gaze shot over his bulging shoulder.
"Sure do." Like a fucking cancer.
"That's yes sir."
"Now wait just-,"
"Commander," Heartilly to the rescue again, "could I see the dump site? I'd like for Angelo to try and find anything the other officers might have missed."
"It's just ahead of us, actually. The dumpster's there and the truck is just on the other side of the street, help yourself." he pointed again with a thick, bit bony finger. "I'm heading to the extension building to meet up with Gallows, I'm expecting you two to be there before too long. We've got a shit ton of paper to push."
Yun waited for him to leave, waited and watched him pull himself into a jet black pick-up truck and leave the cal-de-sac before spitting on the ground and swearing.
"Fuck that guy." she shook her head as she said it not loud enough for most to hear.
"He's just serious about his job, that's all. And we were a little late getting here."
"According to who's clock? Don't go makin' excuses for him."
"Well...he's our superior."
"In rank only." Yun chuffed. "I tell ya, I don't care how long you've been wearin' a badge, talkin' down your nose to me like that might get it broke real fast."
Rinoa giggled. She tried not to, but it happened, much to her new partner's surprise. It had to be the first time someone found her threats amusing. "Let's just give ourselves some time to adjust, to get used to each other. I'm sure it'll work out. Besides, this about the case, not us."
"Fair enough, though I'll be damned." Yun raked her scalp with one hand, not wanting to swallow this frustration but needing to. "Bah, you're right I guess. So," she needed to change the subject just as much, "big girl here's gonna sniff us out some shady shit?"
Another giggle. "You sure know how to word things. But I'm certainly hoping so. Searching isn't Angelo's forte, but she can handle herself."
The mastiff could find drugs seventy-five percent of the time, corpses with less frequency than that. But Angelo always found where Rinoa hid the dried lamb treats she loved so much. Always. The animal assumed a neutral sitting position as her handler knelt beside her, in front of the dumpster.
"Ready, Angelo?" The two held eye contact for all of two seconds. "Search."
Yun watched, anxious and reminiscent in a way. She hoped the dog found something, anything no matter how relevant it was to the case. There's always hope for a new lead, a new scrap of information. She watched Angelo circle the crude steel container several times, ears moving this way and that as she sniffed and sniffed. From there the dog eventually wandered towards the truck, actually climbing into the piles of refuse at its rear once close enough. The truck bucked at the added weight. Digging into the debris the animal would dig up scraps and crushed paper cups and take out boxes blotched with mold. Though no traces of the victim in the end. Angelo returned to Rinoa with a whimper and sadness in her fuzzy features.
"Good girl." Rinoa gave her a treat from her pocket all the same. A job done is a job paid for.
"Not even blood?" Yun asked, fists on her hips. "And nothin' on the pavement either. That's just weird."
"The other bodies didn't have residuals at the scene either."
"True enough." she remembered, a little detail she thought easy to forget.
"And all of them were already in noticeable stages of decomp," Rinoa looked at Yun, expecting perhaps the more experienced officer to finish her thought.
"Sicko must've kept them a while...preserved the bodies somehow until they got too far gone or...something else. No telling what yet, not this early."
"Maybe we should be getting on then? They'll have it all at the extension office anyway."
"Yeah, I guess." Yun had the gut feeling she needed to stay, to keep looking like a good cop does and find that last shred of a clue. But there was no reasonable argument to give herself. Maybe if she had gotten here earlier, before they carted off the body. "Let's mosey then. Care if I drive?"
"Do you know where the federal building is?"
"Been there a couple times, yeah."
"Then sure, that's a couple times more than me. Want to get some lunch on the way in?"
"Nah. If we're hungry, everyone might be. Best wait a while and make one trip."
Rinoa nodded. "Good idea." And then passed Yun the keys. It would be the last time, as her and Angelo both were convinced the detective drove like a damn madwoman.
(II)
Jack made an honest effort to keep getting Claire out of the house. He thought a week was long enough to be a total shut-in, though he would respect his daughter's request not to return to the gym. That was fair. So he would often boil his noodle at work over how to convince her to step outside. And in spite of his attempts, the most he would have to try was just offer a walk around the block. With that being the case, he hoped she wouldn't object to a day of errands with him. They needed groceries for the week and he had to go to the pharmacy and sign off on the payroll checks. With little pomp and circumstance the two dressed and climbed into the jeep.
Per the usual for car rides, Claire was so quiet, stoic as she looked out the window at the blurred landscape on the other side of the plexiglass.
"Claire, honey?" He started, fighting a slight stutter. "Can I ask you something?"
She slowly turned her head towards him, rosy brows raised. "Hm?"
"Did you hear me?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. What is it?"
"It's a little personal, I'll admit." he warned gently, looking back at her for a moment as he stopped at a red light. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"Okay."
Jack took a breath. He'd been wanting to ask this question since...gosh, since she came back into his life. It just never was the right time. "Well...I just want to know...do you remember your mother at all?"
Cerulean eyes widened, her face stretched a little at the surprise she found bubbling in her chest. She then looked forward, sinking in her seat a little as she crossed her arms. Jack could hardly stand how quiet she was, waiting with bated breath for a response of some kind.
"Serah showed me a picture of her. Of all of us on the beach." she said finally.
"But do you remember her?"
Claire turned to look out the window again, expression creasing. "Not really. But...I didn't remember you either. Not right away...well, not even now. It's all just little things." Broken pieces. "Why? What brought this up?"
"Been wondering about it for a while. I'm sorry if I pushed too far."
"No, you didn't. It's all right." Though her neglect in saying another word to further the conversation seemed to say otherwise. She studied on that far off place outside the window as she had been before. Leaving Jack feeling uncertain and lost to some degree, maybe even regretting that he even asked.
Their first stop was the grocery store, where they would start talking again. Though you can guess it wasn't about any personal baggage. Chicken or beef, iceberg or romaine, rice or pasta, or let's just cop out and get a cheap frozen pizza? The crucial questions we ask ourselves on a daily basis. Copping out is always the most desirable, easiest decision to make, but our fine tuned, stick-in-the-mud adult sensibilities don't often allow us the luxury. You know, that little whine in the back of your head that says no when you're dreaming about nachos and bean dip when you really need cabbage. Though Jack and Claire would compromise as adults often do, making sure they got the essentials but made a little extra room for some junk food.
From there it was to the pharmacy, Claire opting to stay in the jeep as Jack assured her it would just be a minute. It would give her a minute to think, to reflect maybe. Something she had been doing more and more often these days. She thought about Jack's question, examined it as deeply as she was able. She hadn't lied about not remembering her mother. Claire knew her face, could pick Rachel out of any family photo, but that wasn't much to brag about. It had been the same with Jack for a while, even after their reunion those four years ago. As she said, it was all little things. Jigsaw puzzle pieces that didn't always have a place to fit. Spending more time with her father had somewhat improved things, created more pieces and more places to put them.
But she couldn't do that with her mother.
Claire grimaced to herself, sinking in her seat again.
Serah had told her what happened to Rachel, even went so far as to show her where their mother was buried to explain how she committed suicide some time after Claire had come up missing. And though her sibling said time and again that she shouldn't feel guilty over it, how could she not? Wasn't there more her younger self could've done to stop it all from happening?
Maybe, if Claire could remember exactly what happened that night almost twenty years ago, she would be able to answer that.
Before she could dwell on it further, Jack was climbing back in the jeep. He was grinning a little. "Mr. Mahri thinks you're cute."
The look she gave her father was priceless. "What?"
"Did you know he goes to the same university you do?" Jack tried not to laugh, he'd never seen her face stretch like that before. "He said he saw you working backstage in the theater on occasion...don't worry, honey, I told him you were already seeing someone."
A small sigh.
"But we've got an open invitation to join him and his aunt this weekend for some sort of party or something. You think you might want to go?"
"Um," her jaw worked but no words emerged right away, "I...maybe?" Like it was a trick question.
"Well, I'm not going to force you, I just thought it would be fun. I know crowds aren't your thing, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I was with you." He looked at her with a little hope.
"I'll think about it."
"Fair enough. You know," Jack pulled his seat belt on and turned the key to start the car, "Kah has worked for me for a couple years now, he's a good kid."
"It sounds like you're trying to hook us up."
"No, no, sweetie, that's not it at all." He shook his head with a little laugh, sunlight flickering off the smooth surface. "I'm just trying to help. I'd love for you to have some friends outside of the family."
"Oh. Okay. Sorry."
"It's fine, but I like Yun too much to try and do something like that."
The confession brought her an unexpected sort of comfort, a nod of approval to her relationship with the detective. Not that Jack had ever been against it, then again she wasn't sure if he knew they were sleeping together.
"Have you two talked recently?"
"No." the swiftness of the reply was a clear sign to Jack she didn't want to discuss it further. A wish he respected. They would start talking again when they were ready, no sooner.
From there they started home.
Together they put the groceries away, leaving a selection of them out to start prepping dinner, and set the table in a preemptive fashion. Though it was early afternoon, Claire thought a roast would make a nice meal, and that would need a few hours in the oven. Set it and forget it. Once that was squared away they separated, Jack almost flopping into his chair and Claire slipping back into the guest bedroom. She hadn't had the chance to do any school work today, so Jack didn't disturb her, and instead focused on a documentary about the history of comic books.
The two would come together again after the chiming alarm on the oven went off later in the evening. Jack took the liberty of carving the roast, though Claire protested a little bit. She cooked it, only fair she finish the job and serve it too. Jack only shook his head and convinced her to sit, assuring her he didn't mind one bit. By all rights, she was his guest after all. What kind of host would that make him, let her take care of his needs like that?
"Still, you did a great job, sweet heart. You always do." He said, sitting down across from her after setting down plates of meat and vegetables.
"Thanks."
"Did you know you can take meat drippings and make gravy out of them?"
"I did, though I'll admit," she paused, piling some food on her plate, "I'm not that good at it. The flavor is always too weak."
"That so? Hm, maybe you could give it another shot and let me watch."
"Sure, sounds great."
The conversation quieted for a spell, though Jack was thinking of ways to keep it going. He swallowed. "You get any work done?" He noticed the dark smudges on the outer edges of her right hand and wrist, like the leavings of graphite or charcoal.
"I guess, yeah." The answer was short and sweet, as her mouth was still a little full. "More like studying for a final."
"Oh, okay." Jack nodded. "You think I could see some of your work? I mean...if you're comfortable with that."
Claire made a face similar to the one she had in the car earlier, though now one cheek bulged with a bit of food. Aside from Professor Feywood, no one had made that request. Not even Yun, though Claire always thought that was more out of respect of space than disinterest.
"Um...I guess so. If you really want to."
Jack only smiled, excitement showing through the lines in his face.
When the meal was finished, he would follow Claire into the guest room, finding it in a surprising state of organization. Usually papers were strewn about along with numerous tools for marking them. Now they were neatly stacked, though still asymmetrically placed in odd spots throughout the room. A thing in every place instead of a place for every thing. There was an old fashion vanity in the room, complete with a near body-length mirror, that Claire looked to have turned into her desk. She had moved the lamp from the bedside table to it. She sat on the small stool in front of it and picked up a collection of maybe a dozen papers to pass to her father. With a nod of quiet thanks he accepted them and went to sit on the edge of the bed.
Jack would readily say that he was impressed. Floored at his daughter's apparent talent. He never thought to see such accurate recreations of his own backyard, his car, or himself asleep in his recliner. He smiled, laughed even, his cheeks reddening with both amusement and pride.
"I had no idea, darling. Really. You're very good."
Claire could almost feel herself blush. The weight of the compliment was enough to keep any words she would offer in response down. Not that she didn't have anything to say.
It helps me. She thought as she watched him. It helps me remember. Helps me face things...helps me forget.
He continued filing through the pages, pleasure on his face. Until it faded. Just like that, a flame snuffed by a drop of water.
"Honey..." he swallowed, Claire watched the lump in his throat jump. "What's this?"
She took the papers back from him, looking at what he had let settle on top of the stack. For a moment she was silent, then she shrugged. "This...it's where I lived."
It was the cage, that hulking steel mess that was still in the secret room beneath Raines Manor, at least, a haunting and faithful representation of it.
Jack felt the air leave his body. He took his glasses off and set them on the bedside table. His heart rate spiked as his mind processed the gentle answer he was given. Until now he had never been able to imagine what his daughter had gone through, not a scrap of an idea. The years of alcohol had kept him from that, the one thing he would ever thank it for. But now...now...sweet gods. Now he had an image, an idea, and it was so fucking horrible. His daughter, his baby had been forced to live like an animal. In a place he could see was cold, desolate, and unfeeling. Like the dark side of the moon.
And all because he...
Jack burst into to tears, his face scrunching before he covered it with his hands. Claire just looked at him, shocked. Dad's don't cry, do they? Yeah, just like dogs don't.
"Oh baby," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry."
Her rosy brows jumped. What was he apologizing for? That, and her mind was a having a chore of processing the sounds he was making. Part of her felt his pain in a way, another was just confused.
"Dad, wha-,"
"It was my fault." he groaned from between his palms. "I was just doing my job -I didn't want anyone to get hurt!- and...and that bastard...gods help me!"
"What are you talking about?"
Jack lifted his head, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and composing himself with a heavy snort through his nose. "I...I used to work for Raines, almost the s-same kind of work I do now. Basically -c-cause I don't want to dredge all that up, my poor heart can't take it right now- your dad threatened to tattle-tail on Raines...and he made sure I regretted it. L-lost my job," then the tears surged again, "Th-then I l-lost you!"
There were no words, none that Claire could find.
"And those god damn cops! I told them where to look! I told them that bastard did it and they didn't believe me!" His face was beet red now, features twisted in a horrid snarl. He started pounding his fists on his thighs to accentuate his declarations of "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"
Claire felt his energy wash over her, a charge of fear working right behind it. Jack was always so soft spoken, so gentle. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, that he had all this anger in him.
"I should've just gone to the press like I meant to," the anger stepped back, the guilt taking center stage again, "but...I guess I was convinced you were still alive. If I did that...he might've killed you. But...b-but if I had done it...maybe someone could've stopped him."
No, Claire thought after moment. No one could've stopped him. No sooner than they did anyhow. The planets had to align, as they say, to put Cid Raines in prison. Before that, he would've made anyone in his way disappear. Probably did, to be honest. Claire might have even removed such an obstacle herself. And Cid would have wiped her clear off the map if he had a suspicion of any kind that she was more of a liability than an advantage. He had made that very clear.
"No." she said finally. "Cid would have been a step ahead. Always. He would've killed me the minute the story hit the news."
Jack looked at his daughter, face drawn and tear smeared, heartbroken.
"You really didn't know what you were up against...I can't hold that against you." she continued, cool, transparent. "You shouldn't hold it against yourself either. You did what you could."
He coughed into his hand, clearing his throat. "I wish it was that easy, darling. I do. I guess that's one of the shitty things about being a parent...enough is never enough. I'm always going to feel like I could've done more. One more phone call...put up one more missing poster."
"But it wouldn't have changed anything, not really, would it? In the end?"
Jack scowled, his head dropping, his chin almost on his chest. "I hate to admit it...but I think you're right. Still...I'm so sorry, Claire. I am."
"I understand. I forgive you."
This time he was shocked, his forehead creased as his brows rose. He knew she was being completely sincere, but her tone was so...unimpressed maybe. He had difficulty accepting it. Especially since it didn't do much to actually soothe his guilt. But he couldn't be picky. For a long time he was convinced he wouldn't have a chance to garner even that much from his eldest daughter. Not everybody gets a second chance.
"Th-thank you, baby." he croaked. "Could you...maybe you could stand to let your old man hold you?"
Jack stood up when she was close enough, closing his arms around her and holding on so tight.
(III)
The Federal Law Enforcement Extension Office was not unlike a typical police department. They were identical in every way save for the number of paper pushers prancing about the place in suits and skirts. They were everywhere. The place looked more sterile too, much more regimented.
Yun and Rinoa would be ushered in by one of the many aforementioned paper pushers to a quiet meeting room that had been set aside for their investigation. The space was already in various stages of preparation. A city wide map was tacked on the wall across from the door. There was a white marker board beside that, pictures of victims along with their identities and ME photographs of their injuries taped to it. A long table took up a majority of the space, along with its companion rolling chairs. Atop the table was a small selection of cardboard boxes, dated and labeled with case file numbers.
At the map was who the other officers could only assume was the last of their new associates, Paine Gallows. With her back to them, she had a paper in one hand and a selection of pins with large colored heads in the other. She would stick them in the map, indicating the sites where bodies had been discovered. Like Rinoa, Yun thought she looked a little frail. She was easily a few inches shorter than herself and had the frame of an almost twenty-something. Her haircut wasn't very regulation either. Looking like what the hip kids called an undercut, Gallows' platinum silver hair was cropped short all around, and longer with a stylized spike on top. Still, she had a badge all the same, and E.P.D. was printed across the upper back of her t-shirt in bold white letters.
Their attempt to introduce themselves was met with an interrupting index finger begging for one more moment. Gallows wouldn't turn and acknowledge them until she had put the last of the colored pins in the map.
"Sorry about that." the crime scene photographer had a naturally low pitch to her voice, like the kind you find on the other end of a nine-hundred number. "You are?"
"This is Detective Yun Oerba, and I'm Captain Rinoa Heartilly from the 163rd."
"Oh yeah, the commander mentioned you guys. Paine Gallows." she extended a welcoming hand for each of them to shake briefly. "Ronsenberg is with our assigned federal liaison making sure we've got everything we need. He should be back soon."
"Anything you can catch us up on while we wait?" Yun asked, taking a closer look at the map.
"No. I don't like repeating myself so we'll hang tight until he gets back. I can tell you all at once."
"Fair enough. Anything we can do to help?"
"Just take a seat, I'm almost finished setting everything up."
While Yun took her word at face value, Rinoa opted to take Angelo for a quick walk before they got down to the nitty-gritty. Captain and commander would return at the same time, Ronsenberg showing a token display of courtesy by allowing the lady in first.
"So we're all here now? Good. Feds say we have access to all the facilities here if we need them, even if it's a place to sleep. So lets get started. What have you got for us Gallows?"
Paine waited for everyone to settle down before beginning, even Angelo chose to sit in a chair like a proper lady beside her handler and give her undivided attention.
"We now have seven bodies, six of which are identified." She began with the obvious, best way to start. "All of them were found to be in early to moderate states of decomposition, all of them were also found to be relocated from the scene where the original crime took place." One place being Gallows' own back yard. "The wounds on each victim are identical save one, which had an additional circular cavity carved through his abdomen. However, the cause of death is consistently strangulation."
The other officers studied the photos taped up, saw the various lacerations and bruises, but also a peculiar arrangement of repeated wounds.
"Looks like these folks were strung up."
"Nailed up is more accurate. All of the victims have puncture wounds through several major joints, the wrists, shoulders, knees etc. The medical examiner also found evidence of post mortem tearing as well as dislocation of the joints in a few of them. So that's a fair assumption, detective. Whatever they were being used for, they had indeed been suspended for prolonged periods. But it was after they died."
"Do we have a pattern?" Ronsenberg grumbled from his chair.
"Cross referencing missing persons reports in each of the precincts where the abductions are suspected to have occurred show they could have been only weeks apart. Some of them days. Maybe even sooner if you take into account most missing persons reports aren't filed until after the twenty-four hour minimum delay."
"What about times between dumping the bodies?"
"It seems random for the time being." Paine seemed displeased to admit. "Toxicology on the previous victims shows that the bodies were preserved in a short term fashion by way of refrigeration and exsanguination."
Rinoa visibly cringed. "Why?"
"That's the million gil question, isn't it?" Paine almost smirked. "That aside, neither is there an apparent pattern to where the bodies are dumped nor how the next victim is determined. However I have a theory that the killer goes by physical type, and I've taken the liberty of having missing persons prioritize cases with similar looking subjects."
The other officers looked at the photos again, almost immediately catching on to what Paine was referring to. There was a faint similarity to all of the victims. Blonde hair, high cheek bones, pointed chins, and a slight hook to the nose.
"I did as you suggested Gallows, the federal liaison is working on getting an assist from the BAU in Sanctum, but don't hold your breath about her doing it in a timely fashion."
"The who?" Yun had never heard of the term, although she wasn't at all mystified at the idea that it was some big fed whoop-dee-doo.
"To dumb it down for you, detective," Ronsenberg growled, seeming inconvenienced, "bunch of brains in the capital that help figure out who perps are by how they commit crime."
"Uh-huh, got another question then," Yun sneered, "just how deep is that stick in your rear pucker, commander?"
"Excuse you?!"
"ROOF!" Angelo interjected, finishing off the jarring sound with a low growl. Then she settled back into her chair, a proper dame, and looked at Paine as if giving her clearance to continue.
"Um," she was at a loss for a moment, "that's all we've got so far, so I guess we've got our work cut out for us."
"All of the shop owners in the complex were interviewed, right?" Rinoa asked.
"All but three of them. Two we managed to reach and have set up appointments for them to come here."
"And the third?"
"We got his secretary. According to them he's abroad for business and is supposed to be back in about a week."
"Convenient." Yun sniffed.
One of Paine's silvery brows arched. "You sound suspicious."
"Isn't that what the county pays me for?" she smirked. "You'd be surprised what people will do to make themselves look innocent."
"That's fair." Paine nodded. "But, back to the matter, our job is to find the killer's comfort zone and establish a concrete pattern. Hopefully we can do that before they take their next victim."
"How about lunch first?" Rinoa put up one hand, not wanting to seem too rude maybe. Raise your hand if you want to talk.
"I second that." Yun added.
"Woof!"
Paine seemed to think it over and then relent. "And me makes three, I need a taco. Care to join us, commander?"
"Sure."
It could wait. The files, map, pictures, and awful feelings would still be here when they were finished. Rank and file they went through the door, though Ronsenberg put an arm across the exit to keep Yun in the room but a moment longer.
"You know, detective," he started out, making direct and unwavering eye contact and with his usual growl, "this would go a hell of a lot easier if you gave me proper respect."
"The feelin's mutual, commander."
"Look, I've got twenty years, that's at least ten more than you."
"Oh yeah," Yun nodded, crossing her arms, not at all shaken by his size or his domineering look. "I get it, and I was all ready and rarin' to give ya that. I respect your years, sure, your badge too, but I'll be damned if I show you anythin' since you started right out talkin' to my partner and I like we're just a couple of sniveling beat cops still learnin' how to put our caps on straight."
"Look, I didn't ask to be stuck with you broads in the first place."
"Funny that, neither did we." her brow knitted and her lip curled to show a chipped canine tooth. "You want respect? Start tossin' out some and I'll return the favor."
"I'm your superior officer, you'll take what I give you."
"That might work on Rinoa, maybe even Gallows, but they're good kids. I ain't. I've gone toe-up with shit stains twice your size."
"I can take your badge."
"Then fuckin' do it." her arms uncrossed and she took a half step forward, her chest level with the upper area of his stomach. Her fierce green eyes met his chilling blue ones. "You get what you give, Ronsenberg. No more. You don't like it? Get another team, 'cause I don't play your rules. Now ya mind movin'? I'm hungry."
His scowl deepened and he eventually lowered his arm. Yun would feel that cold stare of his on the back of her head for the rest of the day, but she didn't care. People were dying, a killer was still out there, and they had no suspect. She didn't have time for his pissing contest.
And now that Gallows had mentioned it, she needed a taco too.
Author's Note: This chapter was weird, I'll admit. Still, I'm having a bit of fun, which is a good sign to me. I want to thank all the comments and encouragement I've received from my readers, as well as the advice that will help you guys maybe enjoy this ride a little better. Again thank you all, don't be discouraged if I don't respond to a comment or a question right away. I always read everything I get in my mailbox, but I don't always have an answer.
