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Trigger Warning: Mention of sexual assault. Short, but graphic description of physical assault/brutality.


Sharon.

"George Hodel was a physician," Tao muttered as he rested his head on his hands, leaning back in a chair in Sharon's office.

Sharon eyed him carefully, taking notes on his presentation, "tell me more."

Tao sighed. He could not believe his captain had made him read an entire badly written, over hyped crime novel as evidence to this case. "Well, Dr. Hodel was investigated for two murders-that of his secretary in 1945 and again of Elizabeth Short's in 1949 after an apparent short-lived relationship with the actress. His daughter, Tamar, brought forth a case of child molestation but those charges were dropped, too. His son was an investigator, but he had other in's to the LAPD, too. Look, Captain, this book... there were twenty-four other murder suspects besides George Hodel. I think we would do better to pull the cold case files and gather common traits from all of them. This guy-Hodel's son, who wrote the book, kind of seems like a whack job with daddy issues."

Sharon nodded. Of course going to the case files would be her next option. His assertion that it was a better idea than following up this lead annoyed her. She took her glasses off and sat them on her desk, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She could feel a migraine looming at the back of her head and it was only 10:30. Losing an hour on the phone with Christine this morning hadn't been fantastic, either, though she did miss her daughter.

"I appreciate your frustration, lieutenant. I don't want to have to make you read all these books any more than I would want to read them myself, but the truth of the matter is that these books, the movies, the webpages-this is what the public has to go on. Given how sensational the Black Dahlia murder was, I think we are dealing with a psychopath, not someone who had a personal vendetta against Amelia. We need to know the information the public has access to-that is what our murderer will have based his little play on. The case files are locked down tight. As far as I'm concerned, they're supplemental but they can't be our main focus. This case is peculiar-and trying for everyone."

The most annoying thing about Sharon Raydor was how often she made sense. Tao had never particularly disliked her and even appreciated her reliance upon reason and rules from time to time, but not when it required tedious, boring work from him. Sharon raised her eyebrows as he sat mentally calculating how many more terribly written Hollywood novels he'd have to read.

"Anything else, detective?" She asked rhetorically, daring him to respond.

Tao shook his head and stood, adjusting his sports coat. "No ma'am."

Sharon pressed her index fingers in to her temples as she watched him walk out of the room. Now was not the time for her hormones to rebel in the form of a migraine. She sighed audibly and grabbed her iPhone, searching through it for John's number.

"John Raydor's office, this is Angela," A pleasant voice greeted Sharon.

Sharon leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Maybe it would help. "Hi, Angela. It's Sharon. Is he in?"

Angela perked up at the mention of her name and she chirped even more pleasantly than before, "Oh, hey Sharon! Yea, he's in. I'll transfer you now."

"Heya gorgeous," he growled in to the phone. This had been his customary greeting for Sharon for over thirty years. She couldn't remember the last time he'd greeted her otherwise, even when they first separated. Of course, physical attraction to each other had never been their problem in the first place. Sharon was comforted by the gruff voice as soon as she heard it. They'd been apart for what seemed like an eternity, but they were still friends, and he could still make her feel better.

"Hey there, pal. How are you?" She tried to keep the tired tone out of her voice, but she failed miserably.

"I'm well, can't complain. You have another busy case, Shar? You sound exhausted."

Sharon chuckled. Did he still know her that well? "You guessed it. Some freak re-enacting the Black Dahlia murder, of all things. I swear Los Angeles never gets any better, John."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You guys have any leads or are you reaching in the dark?"

Sharon sighed. She felt silly asking, but maybe it would be worth it. "Well, no solid leads… but I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

It was John's turn to chuckle. Though they were friends, Sharon rarely called unless she needed something from him. It's the exact reason why they worked better as friends than lovers-both were too wrapped up in their own careers and hobbies to remember they were married until they needed something from the other. It hadn't worked in the same household, but it worked when they were on opposite coasts.

"Sure thing, Shar. What do you need?"

She paused and clicked her tongue against her teeth. "This man that Chris is talking to. What is he all about? Has she said anything to you about him? I know I'm probably being paranoid, but something feels off to me."

"Off? How? You mean that our Laura Christine is paying attention to something other than law for once?"

"Well, that too, but no… about this guy. He seems a little too perfect if you ask me. And I am concerned with just how wrapped up he's managed to get her in just a week. I know I shouldn't follow a hunch…but with this case, I'm worried, John. Can you just keep an ear out-try to get some more information out of her? I'm going to see if she'll at least introduce me to him when she's here in a couple weeks so I can vet him for myself."

John sighed. His wife always worried too much, but hey who was he to refuse mother's intuition? "She hasn't said much. He's a surgeon, movie buff, into running. He does seem to have all the same hobbies she does, but I figured that was just a little bit of exaggeration to impress her. You really think it's a concern?"

Sharon ran her hand over her forehead, feeling silly for being so suspicious. "At this point, anyone and everyone is a suspect. We think the killer acted with medical instruments, so especially those in the medical profession are being looked at extra closely. It just… for this murder to happen and the wounds to be as surgically precise as Elizabeth Short's were… one of the original suspects was involved with many people in the LAPD. I find it to be an uncomfortable coincidence that this murder happens and then a surgeon goes after the police captain's daughter, you know? Oh John, I know its probably nothing… just please humor me this time around."

She sounded genuinely worried, and usually if Sharon felt strongly enough to act on a hunch she was right. "Okay, alright. You have my word. I will try to get some more information from Chris tonight. She's coming over for dinner. I'll give you a call in the morning, okay?"

Sharon nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see her. "Okay, thank you. Send her my love. Give her kisses for me."

"Will do. Oh-and Sharon, get some sleep. You sound like hell, babe."

Sharon snorted. "Thanks, John. You're too kind."

"Any time. Ciya." Sharon hung up the phone and put her head on her desk. She could kick herself for staying up all night. She truly was exhausted. At least with John looking out for Christine she could rest a little easier there. Something about this new guy just gave her the creeps. Of course no one would ever be good enough for any of her kids, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was just wrong with this 'James'.

Sharon looked out her office window to see everyone working in the murder room except Flynn. She watched him for a moment as he fingered a photograph he was holding, an uncomfortable grimace on his face. She so wished they could have finished their conversation the night before last. If he'd wanted to talk today he knew where to find her. She contented herself with the thought and got back to the large stack of files on her desk.

Andy.

Andy walked out of the break room with two cups of coffee in his hand. Sharon hadn't left her office in hours so he was sure she could use the drink, and quite frankly he could use the break by taking it to her. He rapped on her office door with his knuckle, holding both cups of steaming liquid in one hand. Sharon looked up, surprised to see anyone at her door. She'd been engrossed in the database of sexual offenders for hours. Amelia had been raped. It was yet another lead to follow up on.

"Thought you could use a cup of coffee, ma'am." The corners of Andy's mouth hinted at a smile, but his eyes still held the same sadness as the night before. What was it about this case that had him so down? Sharon couldn't help but contemplate the possibilities as she watched him approach her desk.

"Thank you, lieutenant Flynn. That's very kind." She smiled and took the cup, but calling him lieutenant felt wrong after she'd freely called him Andy last night outside her apartment. Andy made the tiniest grimace as she recited his title-he didn't like the sound of it any more, either.

"No problem, captain." Andy took it upon himself to sit down across from her, looking uncomfortable as he leaned back in the chair. "Look, uh, about last night. I'm sorry to have barged in on you at home. I don't know what got in to me."

Sharon was almost disappointed by the apology. Something in her had liked that Andy stopped by last night, even if it really was just to drop Rusty's book off. She couldn't help the color that rose in her cheeks at the thought of it.

"Oh, it wasn't a problem. Rusty does need to read that book and…. I didn't mind it. I've been worried about you. It was nice to see you after what happened in the morgue."

"Really?" The surprise in his tone stung. She knew she was tough on them, but she'd always cared about her team, most especially Andy, even when they didn't care about her. Maybe she wasn't doing enough to make that obvious.

"Yes, really," she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee, "You haven't been yourself since we started this case. I suspected something was up, but after yesterday at the morgue… my offer still stands if you want to talk."

Andy twirled his thumbs around each other, unable to bring himself to look Sharon in the eye. He knew he needed to tell her, but he didn't know how. He hadn't spoken about Abigail for at least twenty years. It was stupid that it bothered him at all. The warmth in Sharon's voice was inviting, but he was nervous about bringing it up. He wasn't sure he'd be able to find the words if he'd wanted to.

"Its nothing, captain… like I said, it just hits a little close to home. That's all." He ran a hand through his hair and puffed his cheeks, sighing quietly. Something, Sharon noticed, he did every time he was uncomfortable. She looked at him for a moment, then stood and walked around him, closing her office door.

"Andy, you saying that doesn't tell me anything. Do you mind if I speak candidly, as a part of the team instead of as your boss?"

She sat down next to him, folding one of her legs underneath her. She rested her hands on her shin and stared at him intently, waiting for an answer. He wasn't expecting her to be so close to him all of the sudden. He was more comfortable with the distance the desk had put between them.

"Ah, no. Go ahead, Sharon." There was the slightest quiver in his voice as he watched her fiddle with the heel of her stiletto, resting on the side of her thigh as she sat curled up in the chair.

"Yesterday at the morgue, when you yelled at me… what did I miss? You looked like you were going to be ill. It was all just so…out of character. It wasn't you. I was a bad boss for not listening to your needs. I was a worse partner for not recognizing them without you having to tell me. I'm sorry for that, and I want to listen to you. I've seen how much this case has taken a toll on you, and I'm worried. Something isn't right here, Andy. You know it. I know it. But I can't help you unless you let me in."

There was a long silence as Andy stared at his hands and Sharon stared at him. She hoped she hadn't just embarrassed herself or worse by crossing a line with a subordinate officer. Part of her didn't care. Right now Andy obviously needed a friend, not a boss.

Finally, Andy spoke. "My sister. Her name was Abigail. She had the biggest, bluest eyes… like Amelia." A faint smile crossed his face as he laced his fingers together, thinking about his little sister.

Sharon watched him, wanting to reach out and touch him, but too afraid to cross another line. She didn't know where he was going with this, but she was sure it wasn't going to be a happy ending as she watched his smile disappear.

"I just, uh… Abigail was murdered when she was twenty-three. They found her on the riverbank in Jersey, bound and gagged. She'd been raped and her throat was slit. When they took the gag off, they realized her face had been slit, too. She had other marks, all over. Whoever killed her had great fun with it." His breath caught in his throat as he finished his sentence, trying to keep up a strong front. He hadn't quite meant to blurt it all out at once, but once he felt her name on his lips he just couldn't stop himself.

Sharon brought her hand to her mouth, trying not to look too shocked. She'd gasped when he started the story, but tried to keep her cool so he didn't stop talking. Finally, she reached down and placed her hand in his. She squeezed his hand gently, placing her other one on his arm. Andy wouldn't look at her. He stared at the floor, trying not to cry. Sharon stared at him, wishing she could make it all go away.

Andy caught the scent of her perfume as she moved closer to him. It made him comfortable and anxious all at once. He wasn't really aware of her hand in his until she began to stroke his palm with her thumb. He was glad she wasn't speaking; he wasn't sure he'd be able to take the lecture that would surely ensue along with his removal from the case. For now, Sharon sitting next to him, holding his hand was all he needed. They'd deal with the rest of it in a little while, when the shock wore off for both of them.

Sharon wanted to hug him, wanted to hold him and make the pain of the past disappear. She wanted to solve Amelia's murder so it would be done and they could move on. She wanted to talk to Andy, to hear more about Abigail. It was a hell of a time to realize it, but for the first time Sharon could finally admit to herself she wanted to know Andy-as more than just her hotheaded lieutenant. She was curious about what made him Andy; his achievements, his heartbreak, his past. For now, though, she needed to be his friend and his leader. She was going to help him through this if it was the last thing she did.