Brenda stepped into the interview room, taking the case file from Lt. Tao as he left. She sat down at the table across from the woman, and smiled.
"Hi, Marisol. I'm Brenda. Thank you so much for coming down here today. No one likes to be here, I know." Brenda crossed her arms on the table in front of her.
"Now, I want you to understand that you're not in any trouble, and everything you say in this room is completely confidential."
"Yo no se. I know nothing. Please don't send me back. Please don't send me back." Marisol whispered, tears filling her eyes.
"How you came into this country is none of my business," Brenda said, leaning forward, "all I care about is finding the man who hurt you, so he can't do it to anyone else. Because that's what he's doin', Marisol. He's hurtin' people." Brenda flipped open the file, and took out the pictures of Adrianna Gomez and Lupe Nava.
"Do you recognize either of these women?" She asked, sliding the photos across the table.
Marisol shook her head, looking away.
"This is Adrianna," Brenda said, pushing her photo forward,"she's a nanny. Just like you. A few days ago, somebody came into her home, tortured her with a stun gun, and then he raped her.
"This is Lupe Nava. She's a nanny too. Three months ago, she also was attacked with a stun gun, and raped. Now the man who did this to these women is the same man who assaulted you. We know this now."
"Aye. Dios mio. Dios mio." Marisol broke down in tears.
Brenda stood, picking up the photo sheet with suspects, and circled the table. She sat down in the chair next to Marisol, and set the sheet in front of her. She placed an arm around the woman's shoulders, and asked if any of them looked familiar. Marisol shook her head, still sobbing. Brenda rubbed her shoulders, reassuringly, holding the woman as she cried.
"Marisol, please. Help me stop the monster who did this. Please." Brenda pleaded.
Sharon stood in the media room, watching the interview on the CCTV. She could see the desperation in Brenda's face, the empathy she felt for the woman she was comforting. Something shifted in the Captain's chest, as she watched Brenda hold the young Hispanic woman. She felt the shift, and cast around inside herself for the old animosity, the ever-present annoyance she felt even in the face of her overwhelming physical attraction to Brenda, and discovered that she couldn't summon up anything but admiration, and a feeling to nebulous to name. She watched Brenda's hands for a moment, relieved to discover that at least her physical attraction hadn't vanished along with the animosity. The sight of those slender fingers sent a thrill through her, regardless.
On the screen, she watched the young woman pull away from Brenda, and swipe ineffectively at the tears on her face.
"I know nothing. I'm sorry. I know nothing." She sobbed, and Brenda just leaned in, and kept rubbing her shoulders.
"Okay, Marisol. Shh. It's okay." Brenda crooned.
Brenda sat at a table in the conference room, since it had more space than her desk. She rested her head on her hand, and stared down at the papers before her. Just then, a large sheaf of documents thudded onto the table in front of her. She jumped, starteld.
"Federal Immigration Rolls for the past 6 months. There are 243 Lupe's, Guadalupe's and Lupitas," Fritz intoned from behind her, "with the last name Nava, living in Los Angeles County."
He sat down in the seat next to her, as she reached for the bundle of paper.
"Fortunately for you, only 5 of them fit the description you gave me. May I see your Lupe Nava?" He asked, holding out his hand.
Brenda rifled through the papers on her desk, locating the photo they'd gotten from Jeffery Waters. She decided she'd ignore the events of the morning, for now.
"2 suspects, 1 dead nanny, one who's vanished, and one who won't talk to me. And all this, with Captain Raydor watching my every move. That woman!" Brenda said, realizing that she actually didn't mind the Captain's presence on the investigation so much, but still feeling slightly rankled at her insinuation about Brenda using Fritz's connections.
Fritz flipped through the files, finding a match.
"Hey hey hey! It's your lucky day." He said, handing her the photo from the FBI file.
"Oh, Fritz. Thank you. I need to talk to her in the worst way." Brenda said, comparing the two photos.
"Well, maybe not so lucky. According to her file, she was deported a month and a half ago."
"Deported to where?" Brenda demanded.
"Mexico." Fritz replied.
Brenda stood awkwardly between Fritz and Sharon, twisting the hem of her sweater in nervous fingers.
"Cap'n, I think it'd be best if you stayed here, and finished observing the team, while I go with Agent Howard down to the INS."
Sharon nodded slowly, looking from Brenda to Fritz. Faced with the reality of their relationship, she scoffed at herself. So she nodded again, this time more curtly, and spun on her heel, walking back into the central room and making a show of looking over a file. Brenda caught her lip between her teeth, knowing that she'd hurt the dark haired woman, and wanting to go to her, but a glance at Fritz's raised eyebrow put her back on track. She had a case to solve. Feelings could come later.
They took Fritz's car, at Brenda's suggestion. She wasn't ready to relinquish the lingering citrus cloud that remained in her car, didn't want it overpowered by Fritz's spicy aftershave, his unmistakably male scent. They sat in silence for a while, the tension between them seemed to push all the air out of the car.
"Listen, Brenda, about earlier," Fritz began, running a hand through his short, dark hair, "I was an asshole. I know it. I apologize. It's just, everybody thinks I got my Liaison position because of you, and then, the promotion offer in DC, well, that was on me, my merits, my qualities as a worker. But I love you, and I knew that I'd lose you if I asked you to pick between LA and DC, between your job, and me."
"You keep saying 'I knew', Fritz, but unless you've developed mind readin' skills you haven't told me about, you didn't know. You assumed. You made a decision based on something you thought might happen, and then you proceeded to treat me like I'd done something to offend you. I can't imagine what you were thinkin' this morning, but I assume you've called your sponsor?" Brenda tried to keep her voice calm, tried not to show her anger.
"Yes, Brenda. I called my sponsor. I'm going to a meeting tonight. And you're right. I did assume. But let's be real. If I take the job, will you come with me? Will you leave Major Crimes behind?" Fritz glanced over at her, waiting for an answer.
"Fritz. I don't know. It's a huge decision. One that we should talk about, together, as a couple. I admit I haven't given it much thought since this morning, but I've been sort of busy trying to find a serial rapist, after all." Brenda replied, tersely.
Fritz snorted, but didn't say anything further. They pulled into the parking lot, and entered the building that housed LA County's INS. They were in luck, the attending officer was available to speak with them.
"Yup, Lupe Nava. That's her, I handled her A file myself. Fairly ordinary case, from what I remember." The man set the photo down on the desk.
"Do you recall if Ms. Nava reported being raped?" Brenda asked hotly.
"Yes," he answered, tapping her photo with a thick finger, "actually she did."
"Excuse me, Agent Myers, but what exactly about sexual assault makes this case ordinary?" Brenda rubbed her hand across her forehead, trying not to shout.
"Ma'am, there are over a million illegal aliens living in LA County. When they end up in this office, they will say anything, and I mean anything, to avoid removal. Including saying that they've been a victim of some crime." Meyers shifted on his feet.
"So you just assumed Lupe was lying?" Brenda asked, disbelievingly.
"Yes. But that didn't stop me from checking out her story. There was no criminal file pending with her name involved, I called the DA's office. And she waived a hearing, opted for voluntary departure, which was another reason I didn't buy this rape claim." Meyers rested his hands on his gun belt.
Brenda chewed on her lip, and Fritz focused his eyes on the ceiling. Meyers looked at them, a realization dawning.
"Oh no. No don't tell me. She was telling the truth? She really was raped?"
"Along with two others that we know about. Arianna Gomez and Marisol Guttierez." Brenda laid their photos on the desk next to Lupe's.
"If I had known, I would've gotten an investigator down here. She could've fought this." Meyers sank into his chair.
"Let me ask you, how did Lupe end up in front of you in the first place?" Fritz's voice was low.
"She was reported by her employer. Jeffery Walters. You want his address?" Meyers asked, eagerly.
"I have it, thank you." Brenda replied absently, thinking hard.
Back in the car, she called the Captain directly.
"Cap'n. I need you to get a search warrant as soon as possible, for the Walters house. Then, bring the team, and Fritz and I will meet you there." Brenda hung up, and tossed her phone on the dashboard. She knew that man had felt off, but she was shocked her instincts had been so lacking. She kicked herself mentally, for allowing her personal issues to stand in the way of her properly doing her job. If she hadn't been so distracted by the Captain, she might've caught something in Walter's body language that would've given her a reason to continue talking to him, a chance to trip him up.
Fritz watched Brenda's face. He knew she was blaming herself for missing something, and he knew he should reassure her, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. Secretly, he hoped that if this case rattled her, if she thought she'd screwed up, maybe she'd be more willing to come to DC with him.
By the time they reached the Walters house, the rest of the team was already there. Brenda's eyes found Sharon immediately, leaning against her car, writing in that damnable notebook. Brenda gathered the team, and they approached the house en masse. When Walters opened the door, Brenda thrust the search warrant in his face.
"I have a warrant to search your residence for items relating to Lupe Nava." She spat, pushing past him.
"Sir, do you own a stun gun?"
"What?" Walters asked, looking baffled.
Brenda felt Sharon standing behind her, and zeroed in on Walters.
"Why didn't you tell me you were having sex with Lupe?" Brenda asked, her voice dangerously low.
"What are you talking about?"
"Of course, rape doesn't have anything to do with sex, does it?"
"She says I raped her?" He took a step back, his eyes wide.
"She didn't say anything, because you had her deported!" Detective Sanchez said, barreling towards the man.
"Now, just hold on one second. I never laid a hand on Lupe." Walters said, holding his hand up.
"Oh. Then you wouldn't mind giving us a swab from your cheek, then." Detective Gabriel piped up.
Just then, the young blond boy they'd seen earlier came into the room, looking scared.
"Dad?" He asked searchingly.
"It's okay sweetie. Everything's fine." Walters nodded reassuringly.
"Detective Sanchez, would you please take Mr. Walters' son outside for a moment? Thank you." Brenda squeezed his shoulder as he passed by her.
"I'll be right there, go ahead with the Detective." Walters waved his hand at his son.
"This is special Agent Fritz Howard of the FBI. He as a few questions for you." Brenda gestured towards Fritz.
"About what?" Walters turned, facing Fritz.
"Let's start with making false statements to a Federal Officer." Fritz answered, leading the man into the sitting room.
Brenda followed along after Detective Sanchez and the boy. Sharon watched her for a moment, then followed.
"Chief? Your suspect went that way." She said, pointing in the direction Fritz had taken the man.
"Children know more about their nanny's than anyone." Brenda replied, still walking.