*To Gayle. You know why.
Around the World Book Four
Escape to New England
Chapter 9
. . . . .
Larry Neece was not an idiot.
You didn't get to be top dog by being an idiot, just like you didn't get there on politics alone. Not at his age. He'd worked bloody tooth and nail to get to where he was.
Oh yeah, and he wasn't an idiot.
But he'd bided his time. He'd been Juddoo's captain long enough to know that the man was a bit of a loose cannon. But he also knew why. To a certain extent, he couldn't fault the chip on Jay's shoulder. Nevertheless, he was obligated to step in when it got in the way of cases.
Admittedly, it had crossed that line a while ago, but Larry had been hoping that either Jay would come to his senses and work with the Twelfth or Mark would lose his cool on Jay and put him in his place. Larry had seen the latter happen before and that was why he was just now eyeing Jay. Well, that, and a rather flattering article on Detective Beckett's work while simultaneously calling Jay out on how effectively he was burying key information.
It had, to use the colloquial term, sucked to pull Jay off as lead. But Larry knew when to fold. And with the notes and the connection, he hadn't really been given much of a choice. When he'd looked into the woman, well, even he'd been impressed. He could see why Roy catered to the team. They were unconventional, definitely, but solid as a rock and twice as strong. They were friends and they cared and that was what made them such a good team. All four of them.
He was also jealous. But that didn't stop him from recognizing when there was a problem. And there was a big one. Larry knew just where to start.
He'd called Mark that morning, after browsing the paper. Since the man had been working over at the Twelfth, barely coming by unless it was to pick up something before disappearing again. To Larry, it made perfect sense, but it also meant that he couldn't just poke his head out to talk to his detective. The knock on his doorframe startled him, but it didn't show in the smooth way he raised his head to take in his detective critically.
"You look like shit."
"Yeah well," Mark replied. "That's what happens when the team doesn't play like a team."
"Problem at the Twelfth?"
"It's not them and you know it."
Larry allowed a quirk of the lips in acknowledgment. "Want to give me your side?"
Mark took that as his invitation and stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him and taking a seat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he met his captain's eyes. "Jay's making it very difficult to get things done," he said. "I can understand rivalry. We all have a case closure rate to maintain in order to get funding… I get that. But to undermine someone else in the process? That's immature Cap."
Larry just raised an eyebrow. He wasn't about to contradict his detective, but he wasn't going to outright agree either.
"You know he didn't tell anybody about Vittorini?" Mark asked, finally leaning back in his chair. He looked laid back, but every line of his body was tense. "Know how we found out about it? The woman who wrote the article about Beckett told her. When I came to see Jay about it yesterday, he bit my head off and refused to hand over everything. The lab's so backed up that when I went down to ask them for another copy of the results, two of them tried to bite my head off."
Larry absorbed the news, trying to keep his face neutral. He'd always known Jay was his loose cannon. Was he finally flying off the handle?
"And yeah, Jay's always been pretty territorial about his cases, but… Cap, he's not the best. He's not seamless like these guys are. Honestly? It's been a great atmosphere to work in. There's no hierarchy. Beckett's the leader, but the boys follow her because she's good. They're good. They know where they stand, they know their roles and they play 'em well. Even the damned writer we all gave her flack for knows he's there as the comedic relief and utter absurdity. And you know what? That thinking actually helps."
Larry took the comments as they were meant. Mark was pissed at Jay's decisions. It had nothing to do with the way he ran his precinct or the way Roy ran his. Larry wasn't stupid enough not to understand that every detective meshed with different people in different environments. Hell, he'd spent the first seven years of his career in a precinct that spent all twenty-four hours belittling those that weren't part of the main clique. Even the captains.
Needless to say he'd gotten out of that precinct quick.
Mark was the team player type and he always had been. It was the reason Larry had figured maybe he and Jay could work. Jay had become fiercely independent about two and a half years ago, refusing to work with anyone who questioned him, who didn't do things his way. Mark had been the longest-running partner since then, somehow able to find a way to get Jay to listen.
Now, it seemed, that partnership was falling apart.
"I get that Jay's supposed to be on our team, but he's not playing with us. He's like that damned player that refuses to pass because he's going to get all the goals, all the success despite the number of drills. And if we lose a game, he's the first one to go running to coach that it was someone else's fault."
"How bad is it?" Larry asked after a moment's deliberation.
"If I was in her shoes, I'd've filed with IAB. I can deal with infighting, Cap, but this is just insane. And we're sacrificing time and resources in the process."
"But she hasn't."
Mark shrugged. He couldn't make sense of that. For a no-nonsense detective she was certainly taking a lot of flack. "Something needs to be done. I've tried talking to him, tried to make him see that he's making a mistake and she could be a damned asset but he's not listening because he's not the lead."
"But you think we made the right decision, giving the case to her."
"I think it's the logical one," Mark replied with surprising diplomacy considering how vehemently he'd railed against Jay. "The notes were addressed to her. If anyone's going to be able to put together why this guy chose those cases, it's going to be Beckett and her team. And they're going to be the ones to know if there's something off about the murders. I'm not saying Jay's a bad detective, and I'm not saying that we couldn't do it; I'm saying she's got the most applicable knowledge."
"And you like her."
"Damn right."
Larry sighed, rubbing a hand against his forehead in an uncharacteristic show of frustration and irritation. "He's got one more chance," he told Mark, his decision one that had been final by the time he'd finished Rebecca Hall's article. "Send him in."
So Mark stood, exited the office and was met head on by Jay.
"You go crying to Daddy?"
Mark let his eyes slip closed. He was exhausted, frustrated and rightfully angry at the man the NYPD called his partner. Still, he knew going off on him wasn't going to help anyone. It never did. He took his time turning around to face his purple-faced 'partner'. "I didn't go crying to anyone," he replied, voice neutral. "Neece called me in this morning. Asked me about the case. I gave him honest answers, Jay. That's all."
"Detective Whore giving you something on the side?" Jay asked snidely. "This isn't very partner-ly behaviour. I may just have to file a complaint."
"Then do it," Mark snapped. He stepped closer and, as the taller of the two, looked down into Jay's eyes. "You do what you need to do to help yourself feel better but I guarantee you at the end of the day it's going to be worth shit. No matter what you do, no matter who you go whining to, justice wins, Jay. You're playing politics. Or trying to. But you're playing the wrong side. Beckett's good. Her team's good. You? You don't know what a team is."
"You'll be eating your words when I crack this case."
And the easy-going Mark Sookhold snapped. "Crack your head in the process," he growled. "Do us all a favour. And while you're at it, find a new partner. I'm done."
Larry, who'd witnessed the whole thing, waited until Jay went to go after Mark. "Juddoo," he called. "A word." His voice was hard and brooked no argument. Jay glared at Mark's retreating back and mumbled something, probably obscene, under his breath. Larry didn't back down an inch. "My office. Now."
Jay didn't sit, but did slam the door. "You're not going to dress me down."
Larry arched an eyebrow. He wasn't a pushover, the same way he wasn't an idiot. "Give me a damned good reason I shouldn't file an official reprimand, Juddoo. Now."
"Because it's my case!" Juddoo exploded. "And no damned cop bitch is going to take it away from me!"
"That's not your call. It's mine and Captain Montgomery's. It's the commissioners."
"Because the commissioner's in her damned hand! You can't see it can you? She's got you all fooled, all hypnotized. Perfect Detective Beckett. She's better than all of us, superior to all of us. But she's not 'cause she has nothing."
"Neither do you." Larry leaned forward with a heavy sigh, knowing that despite the fact that Jay was standing, he held all the power. "Smarten up, Juddoo. I don't want to have to call IAB, but if you don't learn the meaning of teamwork I'm not going to have a choice. I can't have you making life difficult for another detective. You're on the same damned side."
Jay snarled, but Larry's face didn't change a smidge.
"You work with Beckett, or I call IAB and you don't work it at all. The choice is yours. Get out."
Jay slammed the door again, rattling the glass, but not Larry. He'd done what he knew he needed to do, even if he didn't like doing it. He barely resisted the urge to drop his head in his hands and instead picked up the phone. If he was lucky, he would catch his three-year-old at home.
And he could really use the pick-me-up.
Roy caught Kate on her way in. "Detective."
"Captain," Beckett answered warily.
It took a jerk of his head to have his best detective change course to his office. He closed the door behind her, and while she sat, he leaned against his desk. "I saw the article."
Kate sighed. "And?" She had no idea which way Roy was going to lean.
In reality, Roy was kind of proud of her. While he would have preferred if she cleared it with him first, if they figured out a plan of attack so his own ass wasn't on the line, from the lines he could see and her posture, she'd done what she felt she had to do to get her case back. He couldn't fault her that. Still… "Rather public, isn't it?"
"Captain, I've tried," Kate said. "I've tried talking to him, telling him, ordering him… he doesn't listen to me. And I can't get anything done anymore. He. Hid. A. Case. The only reason we found out about Daniela Vittorini was because he told a damned reporter. Before telling me."
Roy didn't have to ask why she didn't look on the news. Kate had never really been an avid watcher and even less so now that she was often mentioned in her relationship with the once-playboy author.
"I was at the end of my rope and I didn't feel like I had any other decision. Miss Hall approached me about the Molly Carroll murder."
"So you threw her a bone."
Kate's eyes flashed. "I fought fire with fire," she shot back, losing her iron grip on her temper just slightly. "Seems the only way Juddoo's willing to listen."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I don't know," she admitted, deflating. "Look, this already feels like it's spinning out of my hands. I'm losing victims to a self-centered detective, and I'm losing leads to some… jerk who's found some way to keep below the radar."
"What's the likelihood he has another victim?" Roy asked.
"In his sights or at this moment?" Kate replied. "If he even has a pattern? He's got another one."
"Do you have anything?"
"We're spending the morning going back through Juddoo's witness and interview list," Kate replied, her irritation showing through again. "The statements he gave Sookhold are bare bones at best and he's not going to give the real ones up easily. We tried finding the reports, but either he hasn't filed them yet or he's deliberately holding them back."
He considered his detective carefully taking in the bags under her eyes, the frustration in her posture. "Get me a report," he told her. "Everything. By end of shift."
"But sir-"
"Beckett if this goes further, if this has to go to IAB, I need everything in writing." He took the other seat in front of his desk, leaning forward. "I'm on your side. I need this to make sure we've both covered our asses."
It was after six by the time Kate surfaced from the day's work and she only did because her phone rang shrilly beside her.
"Beckett," she answered distractedly, shortly.
"Hey Hon," came Rick's cheery voice and Kate felt exhaustion and relief flood her body simultaneously. The ease with which she let herself be vulnerable with him often meant that she didn't mind being exhausted or relieved when he was around.
"Hi," she replied.
"Just checking to see if you're going to be home for dinner." She could hear sounds of the street in the background, but no judgment in his voice.
She looked to her computer clock and groaned at the time. "I'm going to be another hour, at least."
"I'll take that as a 'no'."
"I'm sorry, Rick," she sighed even though there was no recrimination in his voice. "Montgomery wants a report on all of our findings to date."
"Hey, no apologies necessary. It's been a long time since we had dinner over a case."
It hadn't been. Arguably too many of their dinners had been over case files and evidence bags, but she loved that he didn't care. Still. "No, Rick. Go home."
The elevator dinged in the background and she looked up to find Rick stepping off the elevator, two plastic bags in one hand, the other holding the phone to his ear. "Too late."
She hung up with a gentle smile. "You didn't have to do this."
"True," he replied with a cocky grin. "But I wanted to have dinner with the woman I love." He plopped the bags on his chair. "Plus, I've been very unhelpful on this case. This needs to be rectified immediately."
Kate smiled and tried to blink away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Still, she stood and tipped her face up to his, needing his reassuring presence. It was a soft, sweet brush of lips, a thank you, and an 'I love you' in a gesture. He squeezed her hand as she stepped back.
"I'm not sure what we have," she confessed.
"Well, update me on Daniela Vittorini and let's see if we can shake something loose," he replied, reaching into a bag and withdrawing a set of chopsticks.
So they talked and ate, Rick adding his own pithy comments and passionate opinions on Detective Juddoo's rather unfortunate choices through her walkthrough.
"Well, the butler's out," he commented, absently stabbing his chopsticks into the carton he held so he could run his hands through her hair. He was on her desk, close enough to the edge that she'd rested her head on his stomach, her own carton cradled in her lap.
She made a sound of confusion through a mouthful of lo mein and swallowed. "There is no butler."
"Exactly," he grinned down at her as he scratched at her scalp and watched her eyes flutter shut. He sobered. "You know what you do have."
"Nothing. I have nothing."
"Not true. You have plenty of information in front of you."
"With nothing," she repeated. "You're not listening to me." She moved to push away and he tightened his hold on her hair. Marginally.
"What you have is all the details with no correction," he soothed, returning to scratching her scalp when she relaxed. "So think. Together. This is just any other case."
"But it's not."
"Kate," he deliberately used the whiney child voice. "Look at the Molly Carroll scene. Isolated. What do you see?"
"Now's not the time for games Rick."
"Good, because I'm not playing one. Work with me."
She rolled her eyes. "I see a pretty girl."
"Strangled to death."
"Smothered," she corrected, dipping into her dinner again. "Because she didn't die fast enough. He dated her, sent her flowers, chocolate, took her out. Spent money on her. Just to kill her?"
"So he knew he was going to copy the Bobby Mann case," Rick added. "Pretty news anchor poisoned to death. Mostly."
"So he dated Molly. Deliberately. To get to me." She tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "Then why drop her in Juddoo's jurisdiction? Why not drop her where he's guaranteed to get me as the lead detective? To get my team?"
"Because that's part of his plan?"
"That's too conspiracy theory, too calculated for it to be someone I put away. And you'd need access to those cases. It's not like just anyone is going to go digging into old records."
That made Rick shiver, both in memory of his own foray into the police records and the implication she was making. "You think Juddoo was personally involved?"
Kate considered this a moment. "No," she finally said. "He's an asshole but… Something tells me even he wouldn't drop to the level of murder. And I don't think I've ever met him. As angry as he is, as pissed off that he doesn't have the case, he's not certifiably insane."
He tilted her head to the side. "So Molly Carroll was planned."
"To the letter. But Linda Jax was a convenience."
Rick turned his head to the murder board, considering it carefully. "Where's the connection between the victims? There has to be something other than convenience that links them, right? Because the only other connection is to you and your cases."
"Our cases," she corrected. "You were involved in each one of these."
"If it's you," he hypothesized. "Maybe it's because you're with me? Because you chose me?"
"Or you chose me."
He almost told her that falling in love with her hadn't been a choice. Instead, he answered, "You don't believe that."
"My gut tells me we're not looking for a woman," she agreed. "And my gut tells me it's not about you. If it was about you, the notes would be taunting you, or scolding me, not about how he's smarter than I am."
"You really don't think it's an ex-con?" he inquired, feeling his own frustration grow. They needed a solid lead and it didn't help that she felt like every step she took was being watched with keen eyes, just waiting for her to make a mistake, to slip up. She couldn't afford to be anything other than perfect and that put a lot of pressure on her shoulders since she couldn't find something to grab onto.
"Haven't looked into it," she admitted. "Wouldn't the note say he wasn't going to be outsmarted again though? Something with reference to the past?"
"Honey, I'm not a psychologist," he murmured. "But it's not like you to leave a stone unturned."
She sighed and pushed herself up, moving to stand in front of the board. One arm crossed over her stomach, still holding the Chinese carton. She supported her elbow on that arm, her chin with her hand. He just watched, watched her fight to make her mind work, fight to put together the missing piece. She started moving her finger from picture to picture, note to note. She could do it. She just had to look hard enough.
"Sweetheart, stop," he said gently, grasping her wrist. "Look, I know you're desperate to find something, anything, but we both know we're exhausted. We're tired and we've looked over this too many times. We need to go home, we need to take our eyes off this and in the morning, we'll come back and try again."
The anger washed through her, swift and violent. "God damnit Rick! It's not that easy! I can't just turn it off! And for God's sake there are people counting on me! They're families! People!"
"And they're not you."
"I know that." She pouted. Just a little.
"Do you?' he shot back. "You think if you push that little bit harder, work just a little bit more it'll work. Something will jump out at you if you go over it just one more time. And yet we both know that when you're this exhausted, when we're both this exhausted, we're useless. Tired detectives make mistakes, Kate and you know that."
He was frustrated. She could see that. But she was frustrated too.
"So what? I should just give up?"
"Of course not!" He looked offended that she'd ever throw out an idea like that. "Do you honesty believe I would ask you to walk away from a case? Walk away from a victim?"
She whirled on him. "I don't know what to think!" The minute the words were out of her mouth her entire being deflated. She folded in on herself.
Rick knew he had his chance. "Kate-"
She held out a hand. "I know you're right," she said after a moment. "I know I have to take a break, to walk away from it, to sleep and eat real food. I know that. I'm not naïve enough to know that when I get into these things I don't take care of myself. But I need to be here."
"I know you do," he promised softly. "I know how much this means to you, how much your job means to you."
"You do," she agreed, finally raising her head to look at him. "I can't turn it off."
"So use me," he told her, taking the chance to step closer. "However you need to."
Kate glanced to the murder board, then back to the man who looked so incredibly concerned and exhausted. He was trying to keep up with her, trying to do his job and help with hers. And he didn't sleep well when she wasn't there. "Let's go home."
He looked surprised.
"We'll go home, get six hours and come back. I'll even let you buy breakfast."
She was aiming for normalcy, for some sort of regularity. She was looking for the comfort levels they'd had in the past, the stability she missed of coffee and a bear claw. So he just grinned. "Of course."
She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his waist as his settled around her shoulders. She absorbed him for a moment, in a way she really hadn't let herself do since they'd landed the first body. He kissed her temple.
"You will solve this case, Sweetheart," he murmured into her hair. "I know you. You will solve this."
As irrational as it may have been, his unwavering faith, his vote of confidence, was enough to give her new resolve. She'd go home. Sleep curled against the man she loved and then she'd come into work and she'd catch the son of a bitch.
Period.
Do you guys have any idea how much fun it is to play around with other characters? And I made the surprising discovery that Rick hasn't been there for almost any of this case! AND I've got two 4000+ word chapters in a row. This is what happens when you tell your mother to hide your Sims disk. And the woman hides my Christmas presents so I can't find them. Needless to say, I have yet to ask for the disk back.
We're so close to the stuff that's really good! Well, my favourite parts. Is it sad that the first ten chapters are set up for the others? And I'm SO EXCITED to get to the others!
Now that I've had my 6-year-old at Christmas moment, I do hope this was another enjoyable chapter. And I'm taking names of those who would like a shot at Juddoo.
