Chapter 10:
*The Next Morning *
Opening her eyes, not rested at all, Robin Brooks stretched out slowly-her hand snaking its way over to her fiancée's side of the bed, only to find it disappointingly empty. There had been a time, when they had first started dating, that Don wouldn't have dreamed of leaving her bed unless it was an emergency at work or to get breakfast at the little café under her old apartment building. The almond croissants there had been to die for and second best only to sex as the best way to start the day or at least they had thought so. It was funny how things like that and priorities changed the longer the relationship got.
It was not to be that morning, however, as she and Don were still fighting over 'Case Zero' and her lack of progress at finding a judge willing enough to stick his neck out and unseal the record. Not that you could really call it fighting, it was more like her giving him the silent treatment and him ignoring her back…let's just say it wasn't the first morning that week that Robin had woken to a cold and empty bed.
Angry, Robin turned over onto her stomach and screamed into her pillow frustrated. How was she meant to put it right, if he was never there to apologise to? Not that she felt she had anything to apologise for…she just hated being at loggerheads with him. It was this infernal case! Their lack of significant progress at finding their suspect was getting to everyone and Robin knew that Don was taking it personally, just as he had for every other crime that he had solved where they hadn't gotten there quick enough to save their victim. She was just relieved that he didn't come home and drink out his stress. She had seen too many good men crack under the pressure of the job and the thought of Don amongst them stole the breath from her chest, even if she was still pissed at him, it was hard to stay angry at him for long.
Resolved to another lonely morning getting ready, Robin set about her daily routine as she tried to put her errant fiancée from her mind and tried to focus on the task at hand. She had four more judges to try and she was actually hopeful for one of them. He was very similar to Judge Tompkins, whom Robin knew wouldn't have hesitated to give her a warrant to unseal the record, even with their flimsy evidence. Judge Tompkins hadn't had a single political aspiration in his life and therefore was one of the few judges who could truly claim to be impartial. You would be surprised at how rare and liberating that was.
The thing that was annoying Robin most about 'Case Zero' was the fact that the two cases had at least three elements in common but they could all be written off as a coincidence. It was a catch twenty-two. she needed the file unsealed so they could see the coroner's report and the type of flower found in the girl's hands to tie the two cases together, however, without the specifics from the autopsy or the 'type' of flower found, she couldn't link the two cases and therefore couldn't get the file unsealed to get the name of their suspect-a fact that not one single judge that she had visited so far seemed to be sympathetic to. Oh well, she thought hopelessly, at least she was trying. Don had to see that if nothing else…or at least he would if he was ever around.
Sighing loudly, Robin paused briefly opposite the large mirror on the wall hanging over a sideboard and cocked a critical eyebrow at her reflection. She was wearing a sliming black blouse and pencil skirt with a small split up to the knees in the back. She was also wearing black swede pumps, no stockings, and a black suit jacket that matched the skirt. Her hair was pulled tightly into a knot at the back of her head with combs that had been a present from Don before they had gotten back together. He had planted a GPS in them that had ended up saving her life and were now being used to make sure every last stray strand was either pinned back or sprayed down and locked into place. She had decided to be more subtle with her makeup, standard mascara and eyeliner and transparent lip gloss. The only splash of colour was from the blusher she had used to accentuate her cheekbones.
With the slightest of nods, Robin approved her appearance. She looked like she was ready to do battle and that was exactly how it felt some days to be the District Attorney. She'd had to fight to get where she was today and it was her steely determination that had earned her the nickname 'Ice Bitch'. She didn't mind though, in many respects the name helped her to cut through all the bureaucratic bullshit and get straight to the point. Besides, she was comfortable within her own skin. She knew that she could be standoffish sometimes, but really she was quite…well, soft. Put her in high heels and a sharp suit though, and it was like she was a whole other person. It was her mask, her uniform and if it meant that ultimately things got done, well then she had no problem with that!
Picking up her keys from a bowl on the sideboard, Robin got into her car and made the long journey to work, she was going to be late but she had no meetings so she figured she had time to waste, besides after all the rain they had been getting lately it was nice to sit, window rolled down, sun shining away as she listened to summer hits on the radio. She didn't get much 'down' time as she was normally working hard all day, so she liked to take advantage of the odd moments of relaxation whenever they came around, which was almost never!
"Walking on sunshine…yeah, yeah!" She sang loudly along to the radio and was still humming it later as she walked through a maze of desks to get to her office, stopping only occasionally to get updates on some outstanding cases. Her nose stuck in one particularly juicy file, Robin didn't see the old man at her secretary's desk till it was too late.
He wore an expensive suit, exclusively tailored to his frame, she knew this because it fitted him so well, that and the fact that he wouldn't be caught dead in a suit from a mall. He had a green velvet waist coat and expensive dark loafers that squeaked on the polished wooden floor as he swapped his legs over. Newspaper in one hand and tea in the other, Robin guessed that he had been there a little while.
"Dad?" She said confused as she closed the gap between them. "Nope, not my birthday…" She added sarcastically as she looked at the date on her watch in mock wonderment.
"Very funny," He replied his face dead pan as he folded the newspaper in his lap and stood up.
"It's perfect weather for a round of golf…so the club can't be shut…" She said conversationally as she walked over to her office door and pulled out the keys. "So why are you here dad?"
"I'm here-" He replied huffily, puffing his chest out to intimidate her the way he had when she had been a little girl….when it hadn't mattered that her father was estranged to her… "-Because of the case that you're working."
"What case? I'm the DA Dad, I work many cases. I'm a really busy woman," She reminded him petulantly; she knew exactly which case he was referring to.
"What case?" He feigned surprise, years as the top Lawyer in LA had honed his abilities to play theatricality to perfection. After all as Billy Flynn sang in Chicago and Robin's father used to drill into her as a young girl, "To win cases you have to give the jury the old razzle dazzle". Robin personally hated it when opposing council resorted to parlour tricks; she found that it was just as easy to play to a jury without putting on a show. It irritated her more though when her own father tried to pull that crap on her. It might have worked when she was ten, but now a grown woman…her resolve was harder to break.
"Get to the point dad," she sighed, all patience lost as she entered her office and settled herself at her desk.
"Did you really think I wouldn't hear about how you've been harassing all the judges in California?" He cried outraged and clearly put out as he sunk into one of the chairs opposite from her desk.
"I'd hardly say the state…just the west coast," She replied flippantly as she shoved the bundle of files that she had collected last night off the top of her laptop and proceeded to boot it up.
"Are you trying to ruin your career?" He asked sternly suddenly deadly serious. After all it was hard for the great Steven Brooks to grasp the fact that his precious little girl didn't want to follow in his glorious footsteps. He was still holding his breath that she would retire to the bench as he had. Robin preferred it, however, in the 'trenches' as Steven like to commonly refer to it and she had no dream to become a judge any time soon.
"I'm only asking for a warrant. They said no, so I moved on. That's hardly grounds for harassment, so why are you really here?" She asked firmly, without even looking up from her screen. She hoped that it made her look busy, when really she was playing solitaire.
"You've got to have known that it would get back to me!" He pointed to his chest dramatically. In her head she could see all the local judges that frequented her father's club in a sauna discussing her and laughing…
"Sure but I hardly thought it would be worth a social call. Shouldn't you be on the nineteenth hole by now?" she asked bitterly, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.
"Did that boyfriend of yours put you up to this?" He asked quizzically, ignoring her little quip about his drinking.
"No dad, my fiancé didn't put me up to anything because believe it or not, I am my own woman and more than capable to decide to help out all on my own," Crossing her arms across her chest, Robin leaned back and observed her father properly for the first time that morning. Something in his hostile glare told her he was reacting from a misguided place of love, so she decided to try being real with him for a change. "Look," She sighed when he still hadn't replied. "I'm doing this for Connie."
"Your assistant's kid?" He sneered, as she had sort of known, but hoped, he wouldn't.
"How can you sit there and say that? Like I shouldn't care that Michael's little girl was murdered, after being raped and smothered? I've babysat for her. She was bright and funny and she wanted to be just like her dad…but she isn't worth jeopardising my career over...right?" She was pleased to see him recoil slightly. Her 'frostiness' after all was legendary…
"God," He cussed angrily. "You are just like your mother!"
"If you mean by 'my mother', the police commissioner in DC, well…there are worst people to be like," She looked pointedly at her father.
"Touché," He sighed, his resolve weakening. "So you are set on this…this poor error in judgement on your part?"
"If you are asking whether I wish to continue doing what is right. Then yes. I have a few more judges to try-"
"-Robin." Her father cut her off.
"What?" She asked harsher than she had meant to.
"Why didn't you come to me?" Standing up, he moved over to her bookcase, filled with law books-one for every birthday since she was born. Her father was lucky that she had enjoyed criminal justice, because her going to law school was seriously in doubt her freshman year of high school… "You went to practically every judge in the state…I was the presiding judge on that case. So why didn't you come to me first? Why?"
"I guess I figured you would tell me it wasn't worth my time…but more than that, I was worried that we would fight and then you would leave again. I wasn't sure if you would still come to my wedding…" Getting up as well, Robin joined her father by the bookcase. He was fingering the spine of her favourite law tomb and pulling the book off of the shelf, Robin opened the front cover to the inscription her father had written there: Liberty is the right to do everything which the law allows, a quote by Charles-Louis De Secondat in the eighteenth century.
"Darling," Steven Brooks sighed impatiently as her fingers caressed the words that he had inscribed there twenty years or more ago. They were the words that had inspired her to delve deeper into prosecution over defence law, that and the fact that she preferred standing up for victims and not defending murderers… "I would never give up the chance to give my daughter away on her wedding day." Putting his hands over hers, Steven pulled her over to the chairs opposite her desk and gestured for her to sit as he did.
"Then why do you refuse to accept that Don and I are getting married," She asked her toes, unable to meet his eyes.
"It's not personal," He told her as he reached over and lifted her chin. "It's just that he's a cop, worse he's a FED and you're a lawyer. The two should never mix."
"Why?" She asked incredulously. "Because you and mum didn't last, me and Don don't have a chance?"
"You're twisting my words," He snapped back irritably. "I am merely expressing concern that the two of you won't last and I'm worried that you might get hurt. Ok, yes maybe that concern is coloured by my history with your mother, but that just means I've been there. I know how the little things slide, two workaholics with a family…it's not an easy road…there is a lot of bitterness at the end of it."
"You know what yes, we are workaholics. But do you want to know the man I said yes to? The man I'm going to marry?" Robin replied quietly, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I am marrying a man so loving and so kind, that when he fails a victim he takes it personally despite it not being his fault. He is putting everything into this case, even though he didn't even want it because I asked him to. He is spreading himself so thin, that he goes to bed with me because he knows I can't sleep properly unless it's in his arms and then he gets up and finishes all the work he didn't get done in the day time because he was working the LA Child Snatcher case….for me. He gets about five hours of sleep a day and he thinks I don't know…he thinks…dad I'm…I'm worried about him..."
"Robin…"
"No Dad, you accused me of jeopardising my career for him because he asked me to," She leaned forward intently, her hand hovering over her heaving chest. She was close to hyperventilation. It was funny that people could accuse her of being cold, but wherever Don was concerned…there was only love and passion. "Well he didn't have to because I would ok. I'd walk over hot coals for that man! Besides if anyone's jeopardising their career, he's the one who is putting his promotion on the line for me. The job he always wanted…and because I went to him…because I asked him to take the case…he is moving heaven and hell to close it, that dad…that is the man that I am going to marry. So you'd better just accept it now and be there for me later!"
"Ok," Steven held his hands up defensively. "Fine…"
"Fine what?" She asked confused, the wind temporarily knocked from her sails.
"Fine, you are clearly set on this…so convince me. Give me your pitch." He sat back and folded his hands in his lap expectantly.
"Ok," She smiled shyly; it was worth a shot…right? "All the victims share the same commonalities."
"Blue eyes, blond hair and approximately aged five fits the description of at least twenty victims to come across my desk last month alone," Her father rejected it with a swift flick of the wrist.
"Yes, but how many of those were found holding white flowers?"
"Not as many, but it isn't uncommon for a suspect to place flowers on the body, especially when there is guilt involved." He shrugged, non-committedly, but she could see the spark of interest in his eyes. "What about murder weapon? It's not the same."
"It's almost the same," She leant forward and plucked the LA Child Snatcher case from her desk and held it out for him to look at. "He smothered his sister with a pillow right? Well our suspect is smothering the girls with his hands. He's bigger; it was his second and now fourth kill…it shows progression and potential escalation!" But when it seemed that he wasn't listening anymore, Robin practically growled her impatience. "Look, all right! I know that it all sounds more like coincidence than fact…but until I see that file I can't link the two together properly and make it fact!" She was almost shouting now.
"Where did you get this photo?" Her father replied after a moment of silence had lapsed between them. He seemed completely oblivious to her little rant.
"What do you mean?" She asked confused as she took the picture from his white fingertips. "That's Ellie Wilson, the first victim. Why?"
Shaking his head, Steven reached across the desk for his newspaper and pulled out an A4 envelope that had been hidden beneath.
"What is that?" She asked even more confused.
"Here is your warrant and your file…unsealed." Handing the manila envelope over to his shaking daughter, he watched as she snatched it from his grasp and tore it open. She decided to ignore the fact that he clearly had intended to give her the file all along, but had made her make her pitch anyway.
"Thomas Danby," She whispered a couple times, "Thomas Danby," rolling it around on her tongue for good measure. It didn't sound like the name of a serial killer and, if she remembered correctly, not one of the names on Charlie's list. Deflating a little, Robin opened the report to the part about the little girl's autopsy. It was then that she saw what her father had seen. The victim, Abigail Danby was the spitting image of Ellie Wilson. They weren't just similar characteristics either. Ellie was practically Abigail's doppelganger. They had their case zero.
"His name won't be Danby anymore," Her father spoke barely above a whisper. He looked a little green around the edges…
"Dad?" She asked concerned.
"After he was found guilty at trial, Thomas Danby was admitted to Dr Kessler's care as a ward of the state. He had to undergo therapy but it was agreed that when the boy's under lying condition was healed…well…it was just such a public trial that after having served his time it was suggested that he would be safer in protective custody. New name…new life. He was a boy, under incredible stress at home and in an incredibly sick way…protecting his sister. The courts were lenient. I see now that we were wrong to be so…"
"You couldn't have known dad. If anything it's Kessler's fault for letting him out…"
"Robin, we are talking about a crime that happened twenty years ago…it's not like he's killed anyone till now. Kessler couldn't have known that he would do this…besides the fact that Ellie was an exact copy of his sister, it possible that it caused him to have a psychotic episode or something…" Steven shook his head sadly.
"Dad…I need that new name, Don needs the name." Taking her father's shaking hands in hers, she smiled comfortingly.
"I don't know it…only the marshals do…"
"Ok," she nodded, even though she was cursing inside. They were close, ridiculously so. She needed to tell Don…if he would pick up that is…
*Meanwhile,
At the LA County Morgue*
Waiting in the LA County Morgue's waiting room was never a…comfortable experience. For Elliott it was much a kin to waiting at the doctor's office, except every patient is dead and the friends and families are left to wait in various stages of grief on the unforgiving plastic chairs that even after ten minutes of sitting on, leave your butt numb. He noticed that the pace of the doctors was also remarkably slower than his local doctor's office, possibly because it was no longer a matter of life and death…only death.
Shifting uncomfortably, Elliott reached down and pulled his suit jacket shut to hide his badge. It had been his experience, on more than one occasion, that relatives saw the badge and automatically assumed you were there for them and could tell them something about their friend, loved one or family member's murder. He could understand where they were coming from; after all they were just trying to make sense of the tragedy. Their lives would never be the same again and they just needed someone to tell them why…
"Stop fidgeting," A tired looking Don told Elliott, his eyes closed, head rested back against the blandly painted beige walls. He looked…well awful in Elliott's opinion. Don's skin was pale, almost translucent, and he had massive panda eyes, like the black smudges NFL players put under their eyes before the big game. If Elliott wasn't mistaken, Don also looked a little thinner than when he had first met the impressive agent and that wasn't a good thing.
"We shouldn't have come so early," Elliott replied, unable to keep the whine from his voice. He had known that they would be left to wait as Claudia probably hadn't finished the autopsy yet, but Don had been insistent that they got there as soon as possible. He had a pile of files on his lap, but after a quick peek in the first one, Don had settled for napping instead. Splitting his time as SAIC and running point on the LA Child Snatcher case was evidently taking more of a toll than Elliott had realised. Not that you would ever hear Don complain….he wasn't like that.
"Why don't you go and get some coffee," Don sighed, opening his eyes to the harsh glare of the morgues unnatural florescent lighting.
"The coffee here sucks," Elliott shook his head sadly and crossed his arms as he slumped lower in his seat.
"Then go get me a coffee," Don replied irritably, his patience wearing thin.
"Ok," Elliott nodded sullenly as he got up to go find a coffee machine but stopped when Claudia came bursting through the double doors that lead back to the coroner's offices.
"Clau?" Don asked concerned as she stormed past without even seeing them. "Clau what's happened?"
"Don?" She blinked startled; she was shaking from head to toe.
"Hey, come here," Don replied soothingly and held out his large hand for her to take. "Come on," He smiled ruefully. "You aren't going to make a crippled man chase after you are you?"
"Sorry," She coughed embarrassed. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks puffy, she didn't look good when crying but hey, who does?
"That's ok," He smiled again as he put a comforting arm around her small shoulders and rubbed the small of her back as she rested into his warm embrace.
"What's going on, eh?" Elliott asked kindly as he moved over to the pair and knelt down in front of the sniffing and hiccupping coroner.
"Dr Ridenhour asked me to 'step out'" Claudia replied before letting out a few Spanish curses.
"She's back from holiday?" Elliott asked confused and Claudia nodded weakly in reply.
"Why did she tell you to 'step out'?" Don enquired gently, more than a little confused.
"I may have stepped out of line with the girl's parents…" Claudia shifted her gaze away…well shiftily.
"The parents are here?" Don repeated stunned. He knew they would be needed for an official ID but…one of them should really be in there with them. Not wanting to leave Claudia when she was so visible upset, Don gestured with is eyes for Elliott to get his ass in there. Fortunately Elliott was quick on the uptake.
"I'll be right back," He told Claudia as he gave her knee another quick squeeze of support.
"So…it's definite then?" Don asked quietly, a small part of him had still hoped... "Is it Lily?"
"Yes," she whispered sadly as a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks and soaked his white linen shirt. Her mascara had run like Alice Coopers. "Don…what they did to that little girl…what the Child Snatcher did…its horrible…"
"Don't worry about the parents," Don assured her, a quiet anger rising in his gut. It had been there since seeing Lily's body. "I'm going to get her justice. We're close Clau, Charlie got us a list of suspects…it's only a matter of days I'm sure of it." He said more confidently than he felt.
"Well you had better hurry because right now he could be scouting his next victim already…"
"Listen, why don't you take a few minutes, grab a coffee and then meet us back in there?" Don asked after a long silence had lapsed between them, her sobbing was now a gentle snuffling.
"Ok," She nodded weakly, as she reached up and wiped her tears and smudged her mascara further.
"Ok," He smiled, as he grabbed his crutches and pulled himself up. He couldn't wait until his foot had healed properly and the boot could be removed! "See you in there…" He told her more cheerfully than he felt. All he could think was damn…and then of Robin. She was his soundboard and he so wished that they were talking so that he could unload about the revelation that it was definitely Lily. Shaking his head, Don sighed morosely before making his, now unmistakable, hobble, step and hop routine through the double doors that Elliott had made his way through only moments before.
*Later at FBI Headquarters*
"Ok so someone want to bring me up to speed please?" Assistant Director Nick Callaghan asked impatiently as Don and Elliott waited for the last couple of agents to stop talking. "Will, Brian shut up and listen."
"Ok so Dr Ridenhour's exam showed that Lily was drugged just like Connie. Flunitrazepam or Rohypnol as it's more commonly known. What's interesting is that he felt the need to drug her when her own state of malnutrition was so horrific that she wouldn't have had the strength to resist," Elliott replied, notebook in hand as he relayed the facts. He wasn't a public speaker; in fact he hated speaking in public so much that he thought he might throw up. Fortunately having Don's reassuring presence beside him went some way towards keeping the nausea at bay.
"Speaking of which," Don pointed the little remote at the large interactive whiteboard and loaded the autopsy photos. "Ridenhour's report shows that Lily's liver was enlarged, her stomach bloated, feet swollen and hair brittle with a coppery tinge. Pair this with the post-mortem bruising and facial lacerations...we needed dental records as well as the parent's ID to prove that the girl's body is definitely that of Lily Blake. Unfortunately it is…"
"Ok," Nick replied, leaning forwards in his chair to look at the photos better. "What about the lacerations and bruising? In past victims it was about revealing the previous abuse…it that the case here?"
"As far as Ridenhour could tell…no. The x-rays and medical records came back negative. The Blake's may have been starving their daughter but they weren't hitting her," Elliott answered after the briefest hesitation. It was a first in the case and Elliott hated it when serial killers escalated. It just came to show you couldn't always predict how things would go down and the loss of control honestly scared him. "We did secure a partial from the bruise, it is some ring design. Matt is trying to clear up the image for analysis."
"So the Child Snatcher is beating the kids now?" Nick asked understandably confused. "Your profile states that he kills as a form of protection, that he thinks he's saving them? So why is he now abusing them?" Nick directed his questions now to Will who was shifting uncomfortably in the back row.
"True," Will said shakily as Brian gestured for him to stand up. "The profile still stands. He is taking children that he thinks needs saving and killing them to protect them from their abusers. But Lily was his fourth kill, fifth if we include case zero. The longer he spends torturing these girls before their deaths…I fear he is transitioning from saviour to abuser. Perhaps it was a role he played to help him at first and now he's enjoying it. It's also possible that he has split personalities. Without an ID and access to medical and psychiatric notes it is all just speculation and assumptions I'm afraid…"
"Great," Nick frowned disappointed. "So where does this leave us?"
"At a loose end," Ian replied moodily as he came striding into the office, a sheepish looking Charlie following five paces behind. "When I saw the body last night it occurred to me, the outfit was all wrong this time." Taking the remote off of Don, Ian loaded up a photo of Lily at the grave site. "Those clothes don't fit. I assumed that it was because he bulk bought under the knowledge that he'd be killing a lot of girls and didn't anticipate starving the girl, however, lets entertain the notion that the killing of Ellie Wilson was a spontaneous thing as the autopsy suggested…then he wouldn't have had the outfit unless he already owned them."
"What are you driving at Ian?" Brian asked eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"I've just come from the lab. I asked them to test the outfit and they found mothballs on the girl's jacket. They should fire the idiot who processed them before because when they retested the other coats they found the same. Brilliantly preserved coats but they are without a doubt all old, twenty years is the guesstimate." Opening up the other files on the computer Ian walked over to the board and pointed at each image individually. Side by side it was possible to see that each coat was slightly different.
"I removed the shop data from my equation and five names came back with a seventy five per cent likeliness to live in our hot zone." Charlie walked over to his map that Don had duck taped to the wall and scribbled on the five new locations.
"So we now have fifteen suspects?" Elliott asked incredulously. It seemed like whenever they took a step forward they took two steps back.
"Worse," Ian sighed as he threw the pointer on the table and shoved his hands in the pockets of his combat trousers. "They recovered a hair from the latest victim's jacket and it doesn't match the DNA collected from any of them. LAPD are pulling their surveillance of the suspects. They don't have the man power to cover fifteen. They barely had enough for ten…"
"Is it possible the hair belonged to the original child?" Liz asked from where she was perched to one side.
"Yes, but the database came back empty and without case zero unsealed we can't test the two samples," Ian grunted miserably as Charlie paused by the photo board next to his map.
"What's this?" Charlie asked, suddenly swivelling around and waving the photo that had caught his attention.
"It's the brand that the Child Snatcher has been burning onto our vic's," Don replied as he moved over to his brother to get a better look. We think that the Snatcher intends to kill eight girls or the number has some relevance to him, but we don't know what…"
"That's because it's not the number eight," Charlie held the photo out vertically before tipping it horizontally. "It's eternity."
"What?" Nick asked meanly, beyond fed up.
"Your serial killer is telling you that he won't stop…" Charlie blanched under Don's boss's cold stare. "Or that child abuse is an eternal cycle, could be why he kills the child instead of letting them go into care…"
"Fantastic," Nick threw his arms dramatically in the air. "We have fifteen names that aren't a DNA match to a hair found on a dead child's clothes, he's escalating and he won't stop…fantastic…"
"Hey," Ian told Nick sternly. "Charlie is only trying to help. We had no clue what our killer was telling us before, now we do. That's progress of a kind. As for the names I propose we pull them all in for questioning, check alibis. It's got to be worth a shot right? Because the way I see it, the killer is on his down time between victims. We could follow them for a week and still not find anything. We need to strike now while we can.
"Ok," Nick replied abashed, as Don watched on in amazement.
"But you were against tipping our hand before, how are you going to spin us calling several government employees in for questioning? Even if they are all gardeners?" Don asked after a moment.
"Well they are in the parks right? Say that they are coming in as potential witnesses. Make them feel like they are aiding the investigation. Those who are innocent will be willing to cooperate and it's well documented that serial killers like to insert themselves into the investigation…we'll look at who is too cooperative and use potential triggers in the interrogation to judge who to cut from the list," Will told Nick from the back.
"That's settled then. Boy and girls you have some gardeners to arrest, I suggest you get on it. Prepare everything tonight and then bring them in in the morning. No time to waste after all." Getting up Nick left the office without so much as a goodbye or the wave of the hand.
"Ian, I'll let you head the interviews," Don told the room as he gestured for Elliott and Colby to follow him. "I want you both to interrogate the parents."
"Sure thing," Elliott replied.
"Where are you going?" Colby asked as he got up and followed the two out of the office. "I'm due to testify in the judge Tompkins trial in a couple of hours."
"I have some business to take care of. You two have it covered and the interrogation shouldn't take long. We have them separated. Start with the mother she's already close to cracking." Sliding his mobile from his pocket Don dialled a number and pressed it to his ear. "I'll be late in tomorrow so just follow Ian's instructions for the time being. If the interrogation goes on longer get Liz to step in for you. Bye!"
"Don Eppes…in late?" Colby asked Elliott incredulously once Don had step, hobbled, and swung his way out of earshot.
"Must be important," Elliott shrugged as he made his way to the interrogation rooms at the back of the large office, Colby hot on his heels. "Mrs Blake," Elliott said sternly, chucking the file on the small table so hard that the autopsy photo's spilled out into her lap as Colby blocked the exit, his arms crossed and his large muscles flexed menacingly. "Let me tell you how this is going to go…"
*Later that Night*
Pulling onto the drive, Robin parked her car behind Don's Chevy Suburban and waited for her drumming heart to settle. Though it was impossible these days to tell if Don was home by his car, as Elliott had taken to chauffeuring him around after his accident chasing Robert Burnett, Robin was able to make out a small light coming from the room over the built in garage. It was Don's office away from the office, and she was a little surprised to see he was home let alone in his study. She was glad though; she still needed to tell him about case zero, she just wanted to make amends first and she had chickened out after the first dial, which was half the reason why her heart was beating too fast, her pulse was jumping erratically, and her hands were shaking in anticipation or fear… It was hard for her to admit that she had been wrong…harder to say she was sorry and she hoped to do both at the same time, at this rate she would probably have a coronary!
Resolved to her fate and deciding that she couldn't put it off any longer, Robin got out of the car and instantly removed her new swede pumps, that had caused her feet so much misery but looked impressive as hell in court, Robin limped her way into the house and up the stairs to the open doorway of Don's study. Unlike his office at work, this one was religiously tidy, perhaps because he didn't do much work in there, you know besides the whole late night sessions that she wasn't supposed to know about, or perhaps it was because he appreciated that Robin liked things neat and tidy and didn't want her to know the extent of his sloppiness, as if she hadn't seen the backseat of his car which was loaded with takeout cartons and burger wrappers from his many stakeouts…
It was a small room really, just big enough for a large corner desk and computer, large black leather recliner and stool and his giant sixty inch flat screen TV that he could watch the Chargers's games in high definition in peace.
Upon reaching the office doorway, Robin realised that the small light that she had seen was coming from the TV that was turned down low and reporting the find of Lily's Blake's body late last night. Don was lying on his large recliner, squinting angrily at the TV, a stack of files resting on the small cooler by his chair-mainly used on game days.
Dropping her pumps, Robin walked into the room, careful to walk on her tiptoes to save her aching heels. Don's eyes watched her progress intently, uncertainty and hesitation in his beautifully expressive eyes. "Rob?" He croaked as she lowered herself onto his lap and curled up next to him, her nose buried in his neck. His arms instantly wrapped around her, his embrace was warm and comforting.
"I'm sorry," She whispered, her breath tickling his clavicle, and sending a ripple of desire throughout his body.
"No…I pushed you, I ignored you when you said it couldn't be done. I'm sorry." Rubbing his hand down her back, Don found the point where blouse met skirt and pulled it out to make a little entrance for his hand to rest on the small of her back as he used the other to tilt her face up to meet his.
"My father visited me today," She told him suddenly, she had longed to tell him all day and in the comfort of his embrace she felt safe…secure.
"But it's not even your birthday," He smiled as he kissed the tip of her nose lovingly. He knew about Robin and Steven's awkward relationship. She had spent her life trying to get her father to notice her and take her seriously. It had taken getting the position of DA for him to even congratulate her on her outstanding career. Even then his first question had been when she intended to retire to the bench like he had.
"That's what I told him," She replied sadly as she played with a loose thread on his white linen shirt. He hadn't changed since getting home, but knowing him he was probably still on call or something…
"What did he want though? I didn't get you in trouble with your dad di I?" He asked suddenly concerned. He knew that the great Steven Brooks didn't like him very much but he hoped that hadn't caused a bigger rift between the pair.
"No…well he did accuse you of putting me up to it, but I explained that I wanted to…for Connie," She didn't meet his eye as she said this, and Don couldn't help but feel that familiar guilt churning in his gut.
"Sorry," He sighed sadly, unsure what else he could say.
"It's ok Don," She smiled for the first time. "I told him that there wasn't anything he could say to get me to call off the wedding and…"
"CALL OFF THE WEDDING!" Don shouted startled as he sat up straighter and held her back from his chest by her shoulders. "Don't even think about it!" He was a little out of puff and realised that he might be hurting her so let go with a mumbled apology.
"Don't worry," She smiled sexily up at him from under her lashes. "I told him that I wasn't going anywhere and then he gave me case zero."
"What?" Don couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I have case zero," She replied slowly, teasing him with her words as she teased his body with her hands. "Unsealed," She whispered in his ear.
"Robin! That's…fantastic! I knew you could do it…you…you angel!" Hugging her close Don laughed disbelievingly.
"You're welcome," She laughed back as he claimed her mouth with his, till her lips parted and slipped his tongue inside.
Moving her leg over so that she was straddling him, Robin melted into the kiss and let it take her places as his magic hands did special things to her body. Arching her back, her hard breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her blouse, aching for the feel of his skin on hers.
"Robin," He moaned her name as he as he pulled her body closer to his as her hands moved to the waistband of his trousers and undid his belt buckle.
"I know," She whispered sadly. "You want to look at the file." Rocking back on his hips, she could feel his need for her pressing into her thigh. "It's ok…really…"
"No it's not," Don replied as he pulled her mouth back towards him and dipped for her neck at the last moment. "This, here in my study…is on my bucket list. Escaping now is not an option."
"Thank God!" She moaned as he pulled her blouse open and dropped little kissed down her chest and into her cleavage.
"Why?" He looked up mischievously. "I'm doing all the work!"
She didn't have chance to reply however, because at last his mouth was sucking gently on her nipples through the smooth satin fabric of her bra and had her gasping as she chucked her head back and held onto his strong shoulders for support.
"Don't stop," She whispered huskily, her voice thick with desire as he quickly undid her bra and threw it across the room till it spectacularly landed on the top of the TV, conveniently covering the image of Lily's parents as Don and Elliott lead them from the morgue to the FBI interrogation rooms.
Robin was beautiful, and pausing for a moment, Don did stop as he noticed that she was wearing the combs that he had brought for her and had ultimately saved her life. "I know I brought you these," He told her as he reached up and pulled them slowly from her hair. "But you should always wear your hair down," He watched mesmerised as the tendrils of her soft brown hair fell down across her shoulders, contrasting with the pale beauty of her creamy skin. "God I love you," He whispered hoarsely as the pent up emotions of the last few weeks formed a lump in his throat.
"I love you too," She smiled back as she undid his shirt and kissed her way from his Adam's apple to his stomach, where a small trail of hair lead to the Promised Land. "So when do you recon we will actually have sex in our bed?" She joked happily as his hands massaged her humble breasts.
"When we're old and married," He smiled adventurously. "And…you know…when every room except ours is off limit due to kids!"
"Enough talking," She laughed happily as she took both his hands in hers and helped him to push her skirt slowly up her thighs to reveal her lack of underwear, she had discarded her knickers before entering the office…you know…just in case…. "You have a job to finish." She whispered seductively, her fingers raking down his chest and finishing their short journey in his pants.
"Shit!" He hissed as he practically came on the spot. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"The thought had crossed my mind once or twice," She grinned as she her hand grasped the full length of him and started to stroke slowly back and forth. "But I'd miss you too much!" Leaning forward, she captured his mouth with hers until rational thought was no longer possible and the pair raced to satisfy the other. Case zero would just have to wait till morning; fortunately Don had told the team that he would be late…very late.