Hmm, why DOES Olivia keep leaving?

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"Tell me about your family, Alex."

"We got along well. I mean, I wouldn't describe our family dynamic as close, but my parents only wanted the best for me."

"Wanted?"

"They've both passed."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"It's alright."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope. Only child. Closest thing I have to a sister at this point is the only other woman besides I see every day of my life."

"And that would be your partner, I assume?"

"Yes. Casey."

"What is she like?"

"I didn't like her at first. She was like the new baby sister you're afraid will steal all the attention. But now, I definitely respect her. She's getting married, and Olivia and I are bridesmaids. Amazing what can happen in a little over a month's time."


Casey shoved a forkful of chow mein into her mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head when she realized how hungry she actually was. It was ridiculous how little time she'd had to herself since Hardwicke's body was found. She didn't blame Alex for it, but her partner had been spending a lot more time consulting on that case than working on the SVU cases they already had, and she'd been forced to bury herself in that work. That, plus the warrant she'd just handed off to Olivia took hours upon hours to get. Finally, she had some Casey time.

She smiled as a text message announced its presence in the silent office.

Hey you. I've got some news about a certain wedding venue that I believe may make you very happy. Don't kill yourself at work.

Her mouth dropped open. Could it be that he had managed to book…?

What is it? If you don't tell me, I'll have to kill YOU!

Nope. I'll have to tell you over dinner. Love you. See you tonight.

She groaned in frustration.

You're evil.

Casey thought that was the end of it, until the phone buzzed again. Unfortunately, this text did not come from her fiancé.

They're interrogating Rodriguez. Need you here :(

And that was the end of Casey time.


"Can you explain these threatening letters, Mr. Rodriguez?"

"I don't feel that I need to do that, Detective," Rodriguez replied snidely. Elliot stared at him coldly for several seconds, then shrugged and turned away.

"I suppose you don't need to. Then again, you might appreciate having the good word of the police when you're being sentenced for these harassment charges," Stabler coolly responded.

"I'm not too worried about my two years in the slammer, dude."

"It'll be more when we prove that your letters are connected to four murders."

Rodriguez laughed harshly. "I talk the talk man, but I ain't the kinda guy who walks that walk."

"I'm sorry, did you just say something?"

"Let me clear that up. I ain't no killer, man," the suspect said firmly, glaring daggers at Elliot.


"He's holding up so far," Alex told Casey, who had just joined her partner and Olivia in the observation room as they watched Elliot grill Rodriguez. "But he won't last long."

"Why aren't you in there?" Casey asked Olivia.

"I'll go in if necessary, but I just didn't feel like jumping in on this one just yet," Olivia replied without looking at her ADAs; she instead stared directly at Rodriguez, who seemed to keep his eyes locked on her as if he knew she was there.

Alex looked at Casey, who raised an eyebrow, and then back at Olivia. "Penny for your thoughts, Liv?"

Olivia shook her head. "It's nothing. He just looks so…familiar. I feel like I've seen him somewhere."

"A lot of people look alike," Casey reassured her. "You could have seen a thousand guys that look just like him"

"Or maybe you have seen in before in some context. It's not impossible. Either way, does it really matter?" Alex added.

"Not really. It was just weird."


"So you're saying it's just a coincidence that four people who received threatening letters from you all ended up dead? You had nothing to do with that?" Elliot sneered.

"Sounds fucked up bro, but it's true," Rodriguez replied.

"I love it when you dirtbags think we believe a single god damned word that comes out of your mouths. It's entertaining," Elliot scoffed.

"I didn't kill nobody."

"Really? These four people," Stabler splayed out four headshots of Jackie Stern, Brett Stern, Gillian Hardwicke, and Garret Frazier, "died from random attacks, not your gun shooting a bullet straight through their heads? You didn't want them all dead? You just sent them notes to scare them?" His voice was steadily rising. "You didn't want their blood on your hands? Come on, Rodriguez, you telling me you didn't?"

"I did not fucking kill them!"

"But you know who did, don't you?" Elliot's voice was calm once again.

"No."

"Don't lie to me."

"Better than taking a round through the skull, man."

"In case you doubted that he knew anything," Alex piped up, rolling her eyes.

"Marcial, we can protect you," Elliot continued.

"Yeah? Just like you protected your precious attorneys? I'm just a pawn in all this, dude. I tell you anything, I'm done, man."

"We can do more than you think, Marcial," a female voice joined the room. Olivia decided that the role of good cop needed to be played in this production before their suspect was going to say anything. "We can put you somewhere that only authorized people can even go."

"My partner, Detective Benson," Elliot introduced.

"No offense ma'am, but I don't have all that much faith in the cops."

"Listen. If you can provide us with the mastermind behind the murders and the drugs, we will have the state protect you. It's just a step below the best protection you can get," Olivia said soothingly.

"You people know about the drugs, too?"

"They weren't exactly stashed away in a hiding spot," Elliot chuckled. "You realize this can go one of two ways. You can help us with what we're looking for and we'll protect you, or we can have you sentenced for harassment and possession with intent to distribute and you'll go right to Rikers, exactly where the men you work for will go after we find them. And they don't offer you too much protection in prison."

"I don't know, man."

"Hey," Olivia said, looking into Rodriguez's eyes. "I personally promise that I won't let anything happen to you. And, we have two ADAs who will make sure you get the legal help you need."

He studied her eyes, honest and sincere as they always were, and still she could tell he felt reluctant. Yes, they had dealt with people before that were able to harm others despite police protection, but she was offering full protective custody, pretty much one step below witness protection. Just how dangerous were these guys?

"Alright, look. I don't do drugs and I don't like them. I don't even personally sell them, just hold onto them sometimes. Okay, I'm only doing this cause I hate this whole business and I ain't got nothing to live for anyway," he sighed.

Four pairs of eyes watched him carefully, though he could only see two, and Olivia nodded for him to continue.

"Angelo Caldera is his real name. They call him 'El Guepardo.' He's the killer they hired."

"Who hired him?"

"I don't know the top of the pyramid, miss. I'm at the bottom with dudes like Andrew Morrison."

"You know Morrison?" Elliot asked.

"Course I do. He does inventory with me. That shootout that killed that chick," Rodriguez pointed to the picture of Jackie Stern, "was just some shithead trying to steal our stash."

"How many innocent people have to die for damned drug cartels, huh?" Olivia asked angrily. Elliot put his hand on her shoulder and she backed off, taking a deep breath. "Can you tell us where Caldera lives?"

"Not a chance, lady," Rodriguez replied. "But I can tell you one thing I heard through the fence. He's gonna kill again real soon."

Olivia looked at him questioningly, wondering if that was the whole story. But when nothing more came, and the exhausted looking man started to rub his head, she nodded and motioned to Elliot to walk out with her.

"El Guepardo. The Cheetah. I've heard of him," Alex said, shaking her head.

"Do you know anything about him?" Elliot asked.

"Not really. Just that he's supposed to be involved in at least a dozen different reported hits and true to his name, he kills quickly and scrams."

"Well what are we supposed to do, just wait around until someone else gets gunned down? We've got nothing more than a name," Olivia said.

"We'll do what we always do. Follow the powder trail," Elliot responded, smirking.

"You mean paper trail?" Casey asked confoundedly.

"Nope," he replied, looking back into the room where Rodriguez had let his head fall down in slumber. "He's got to deliver that inventory somewhere sometime. We follow him, bug him, and figure out who's sailing this ship."

"He's not going to like that idea," Casey muttered.

"If he wants our protection, he'll get the hell over it," Olivia stated firmly.


Pulling the chicken out of the oven, the sweaty and tired detective hoped that she had seasoned her meal to her girlfriend's tastes. Alex was usually the one to cook, but for once, Olivia had gotten home first. There were a lot of strings to be pulled before the police could use a suspect in the matter they wanted to in order to aid an investigation, and although she did not intentionally want to give Alex more work, she couldn't really avoid it this time. The exhausted attorney had already taken up residence at the table, her head in her hands and trying not to doze off.

"Babe, wake up and smell the poultry," Olivia said, grinning at the way Alex's glasses had gone lopsided on her nose as she lifted her head.

"Mmph, food," she babbled incoherently, still in the process of reenergizing herself.

"Eat and you'll feel better," the detective laughed, and Alex was more than happy to acquiesce.

"This is good," Alex smiled, shoveling a forkful of chicken, peas and potatoes into her mouth.

"Okay, that was a complete sentence, we're improving already!" Olivia mock praised before taking her own bite.

Alex took another bite and watched Olivia eat, studying her features and remembering how she couldn't find them when she woke up in the middle of the night. It hadn't bothered her all day, but she suddenly found herself thinking about it again.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"Why have you been gone when I woke up in the past two days?"

Olivia looked up. Alex's tone had been stoic and calm, but her eyes gave away the smallest bit of hurt. "You know I go to work before you do."

"I woke up at 3:30 this morning and 4:15 the morning before. You don't go in that early," Alex replied, with suspicion in her voice.

"I do when I can't sleep," Olivia admitted.

Alex's shoulders slumped. "Why can't you sleep?"

"It happens during a hard case sometimes."

"So why don't you just wake me up and we can talk about it?"

"Just because I can't sleep doesn't mean you shouldn't. You went for months like that," Olivia said referring to Alex's time in the Congo.

"I didn't have anyone to talk to then, Liv. You have me. Use me, alright?" Alex looked pleadingly at Olivia and smiled gently.

"Okay, Alex," Olivia smiled back. "Thank you. I promise, you'll never wake up without me by your side without prior notice again."

Alex nodded, but she wasn't convinced.


But true to her word, when Alex woke up at about 4:30 that morning from a random headache, her girlfriend was sleeping soundly next to her. She smiled softly and looking over the detective's supple sleeping form. She held in a laugh at the slight wet spot where Olivia's mouth was open over the pillow and reminded herself to wash that pillowcase.

She stood up and went to the bathroom to take a painkiller. She swallowed a couple of aspirin pills and drank a quick cup of water, yawning and ready to try and go back to sleep. Alex walked back out of the bathroom, taking a quick glance down the hall towards the front door when she spotted something foreign on the floor by the entrance.

Diverting her path, she instead walked to the strange object and picked it up. It was a folded up piece of yellow notepad paper. She opened it, read it, and gasped.

After letting the words sink in for a minute, she immediately ran back to the bedroom to grab her phone and ran back out to the paper. She dialed a number from her contacts and waited for the familiar voice to pick up.

"Better be important, Cabot," Elliot's raspy sleep-tinged voice answered.

"It is, Stabler. We have a real problem."

She read the paper once more aloud:

You're a great detective, getting my brother to spill like that. You also have the most beautiful eyes…I'll be sure to leave them open when you're dead.


Uh oh...