ficfan: lol. It is confusing. But, here's where this little tangent connects to the story line. It was sorta in there all along, but I don't think I introduced it soon enough to ease the confusion. I'll have to work on that. Maybe I'll try this slightly different style. If it helps, let me know. If it doesn't let me know as well and I'll rework this one. Yay. Thanks. -Lady
All: Sorry it's so short. I didn't want to make too much out of this, but it definately helps! Tell me what you think, please? -Lady
Leslie stayed silent on the phone for a good five minutes. She was in complete shock about the entire one-sided conversation. After a moment, she hung up and stared out the windshield, not really seeing where Casey was driving.
"Leslie," her head turned to look at her mentor. This was too sick, too wrong, and so much more disgusting than she could have imagined it being. How did the world turn the way it did and people still survive?
She blinked a few times, completely mute and terrified. It took her a good half of a minute to realize that Casey was looking for a response. "Yes'm?"
"The phone call, what was that about?"
"Oh," she stammered, "um. Well." She felt thirteen again, caught in a lie to her father, even if it wasn't a lie. "What say you try the case I'm involved in and I try the case you're involved in?" The words from her mouth seemed meek even to her, like she was finally showing off the weakling that she was.
"What?" Casey's surprise was evident, "You had better be explaining yourself." Despite herself, Leslie smiled. This was what she admired about her mentor. The woman could be shocked beyond belief and still hold a tone of authority.
"Hanson. That was his lawyer. Pro-bono get ups tend to get scared easy, but he sounded freaked. He put me on to Hanson and the guy went off about my sister. He said he thought it was funny, what she had done. He just wanted to congratulate me about having such a fine family." Leslie blinked, she felt the thick wave of pure and total comprehension over flow her mind. "Casey, drop me off here, please. I have to go somewhere."
"Stop it," Casey snapped, "You're acting like a criminal." The brunette noticed that she pulled over anyway.
"I'm not, yet, that's why I have to talk to your detectives. Casey, please don't follow me and don't snoop. Please." Leslie begged through the window. When Casey nodded she offered a shakey smile and left in the direction that they had come from, already dialing a number on her cell phone.
"Amanda," she said into the phone when a familiar voice answered. "Look, please, talk to me. What the Hell have you been up to?" Leslie checked behind her and discovered Casey had pulled away. "No. Amanda, you have to tell me. You could be in a lot of shit right now according to a John Hanson." She paused, resisting the urge to pull away from the earpiece. Of course, leave it to Amanda to over react to a name. Although, Lelsie had to admit that she was really wierded out. "Amanda, I don't care if you date scum in your spare time. Tell me where you are and why he's calling me about you. Tell me now goddamit." She was yelling into the phone now, but no one stopped to look. It was a pretty normal sight on the New York street.
"No," she said pausing, "Just, tell me wh..." A short beep emitted from her phone signaling that the other end had been disconnected. She cursed beneath her breath. If only the woman would answer her questions, Leslie wouldn't feel like she was betraying her family. Though, perhaps in a way, she was.
"Fine. If you won't talk," she muttered to the phone, "I know someone who will." She flipped it open again hitting the speed dial that connected her to Cragen's office.
"Captain? I need to speak with Stabler or Benson. They're the ones working Casey's rape case, right?" She was speaking like a lawyer now, not like the frightened woman she was a few seconds ago.
"Olivia," she said as the woman came onto the line, "Hanson called me. He used his one phone call to reach me. Yes, I know. No. No. Look, I'm on my way to the precinct. I'll be there in fifteen if you can be. I think I have a lead in Novak's case. I need to run it by you, but I really want to run it by Hanson. He withheld this information for a reason. I want to know why. Yes, Olivia, that's exactly what I'm saying. No." She felt the anger slip into her voice again. "Let's talk face to face. I don't want the wrong people to overhear." She hung up without waiting for an answer.
Less than fifteen minutes later, she was standing in Cragen's office with Don, Elliot, and Olivia. "Why'd he call you?" Stabler immediately went into an interrogation as if she were a suspect.
A little hurt, she addressed the Captain instead. "Hanson's lawyer called and put Hanson on. He babbled for a while about the women then told me my sister was nearly one of them. She moved out before he could execute his plan." She watched everyone's eyes go wide. "I really hate to do this because my sister is my sister, but Hanson implicated that she was involved with Casey's rape."
It clicked with Olivia first. "Do you have proof?"
"Aside from his implication and my sister's issues with those working in the justice system, there's no reason I can think of why she'd be involved. That's why I want to talk to Hanson again. He knows something, but he didn't bait me in front of you. I want to hear what he knows. Promise him something in return for good, solid information that checks out." She was nearing a breakdown. Anger, dispair, and pain boiled just beneath the surface of her cool visage and she couldn't help but think that she might be making a huge mistake. The last place she wanted to be was in the precinct right now, but if her sister was as involved as Hanson had said, she wanted to put her where the Hell she belonged. In lock up- padded white room or penitentiary.
"Guys, I need something solid to base this off of. If it turns out to nothing, then it's nothing. If it turns out to be the truth, then I want her brought to justice, kin or not."
"Leslie," Cragen said, "you need to slow down. We'll bring Hanson back up here as soon as we run a few things, but I want you to stay out of the interview as long as possible. You need a plan, and you came here without one." He put a hand on her shoulder and she took a deep breath.
After a few seconds of silence, she looked up. "Alright, I'm good," she announced to the stunned little group. The world was a small place and getting smaller by the moment. Of course, now that Leslie thought about it, she was seeing all sorts of connections. Amanda hated cops and lawyers, and all the ones willing to testify and a great deal of those raped that Leslie could recall were either her good friends or Casey's or Alex's or one of the three women had worked briefly with them. It was too much of a coincidence for her. In her head, she was already convinced that Amanda was guilty of it, but she couldn't understand why. Two blood sisters had turned out so different, how?
"Amanda," she said shakily, "Amanda Hart. She might also be going by Amanda McIntyre or Julia McIntyre, her birth name." Leslie blinked hard a few times to keep emotion back. "If you find her, don't tell me where she is. I might regret knowing." That said, she walked out of the precinct, no one bothered her on the way out. The woman knew she looked like a mess and didn't try to fix it as she walked quickly out into the gray New York weather. At least the weather felt like she did.
Outside of the precinct, she waved a taxi. After a few brief minutes, one pulled up to the curb and she climbed in.
"Where to?" The driver asked looking in his mirror. Leslie noticed he was a stocky man, maybe five foot five when standing. Lightly tanned skin and dark blue eyes. She didn't know why she noticed, or why it suddenly interested her when so often the world passed her mind like a blur, only a few points sticking out sharply.
"The pier, please," she said as she settled back into the seat and stared out the window.
/II\\
She stood still, not wanting to move. A cool breeze washed over her body alieviating the aches and pains if only for one moment. Nothing better, nothing worse, right? At least, she hoped. The good, she was damn certain Casey's pain would be put in jail. The bad, it was her own sister. Leslie felt a guilt she had only ever heard of. This was her responsibilty. She was supposed to look after her older sister, that was her duty. She had sworn it to her when their father had died. She had promised, and she had failed, miserabley.
"Hello," a voice said behind her. Leslie didn't turn, she knew who it was. That was why she had come. "How'd you know?"
"You imply that I don't know my own flesh and blood," Leslie responded calmly.
She heard footsteps and the body of her sister fell into peripheral vision for her. "You always were the genius."
"Why?" Leslie ignored Amanda's snide comment.
"I don't understand you. The justice system screwed us six ways to Hell and you can sit there and represent them?"
"It's where my duty and where my heart lie. No one could help us. I don't want that to happen to some other little girls."
Amanda shook her head. "But it does, every day."
"That's why we prosecute those who get caught."
"You mean you and Casey?" Amanda asked though Leslie knew it to be rhetorical.
"You never answered my question."
"I'm giving back to them what they gave us. Hell, torture, and no reason to want to live."
"Why the partner."
"They'd report it, more likely. Cops and lawyers, they know how important it is to report rape, but no one wants to report sexual assault from a woman. Leslie, I'm surprised you even had to ask." Amanda paused and smiled at Leslie, something the lawyer grimaced from. "I was actually surprised Casey never said anything. Even after she found out she was pregnant."
"You've been here all along," Leslie said, shocked as she realized Amanda had been following all of her victim's movements after the fact.
"Your detectives follow any lead."
Amanda picked up Leslie's wrist and examined it for a moment. Leslie swallowed feeling helpless to her sister's will. The guilt wouldn't leave, she couldn't help but blame herself for Casey. It was, after all her fault. A small tear trickled down her cheek and in the next instant, she saw Amanda pull a silver blade from her pocket.
The metal slid into her flesh and she let out a gasp. "Julia," she managed, staring wide-eyed at the suicide cut on her wrist. It was deep and bleeding out fast. Too fast. Leslie felt her head begin to spin as her peripheral vision decayed.
"I love you, sis," Amanda hissed sarcastically before she pushed the woman away. Seconds later, Leslie felt her body hit the water. She opened her eyes, seeing blood and bubbles rise from her and encase her with cold arms before she fell unconscious.