Title: Blind, Chapter 10

Author: Sorsha711
Fandom/Pairing: John/OFC, Fin/Olivia, others implied
Rating: M, for language and references to violence; some adult situations
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Dick Wolf. A quick check of my bank account should prove I'm not making anything off of writing my stories. Sigh!
Summary: A brutal assault in Central Park exposes a horrifying family secret… one that leads the SVU squad down paths none of them anticipated when they took the call. Munch-centric with heavy doses of the oh-so sexy Fin

A/N: Sorry for the long delay in updating this and my other stories. RL and a back injury have made it tough to spend much time writing for quite a while. I'm back to it and have almost finished Blind. I'll update again soon. I should note that I began this story over a year ago, so it's now AU to the series.

Blind, Chapter 10

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Fin felt the sheet covering his chest shift, exposing his bare skin to the chill of the air-conditioned room. Something about that seemed… off. The small window unit in his apartment seldom managed to overcome the stifling heat of autumn in New York. Rolling to his side, he instinctively moved into the warmth cast by the soft body sleeping beside him. The fact that his bed wasn't empty for the first time in longer than he could remember… longer than it had been at any time since he moved into his first place while attending Brooklyn College, pulled him the rest of the way to wakefulness.

A single shaft of light from a nearby window fell across Olivia's face. Without conscious thought, his hand reached out to gently ease a lock of soft brown hair away from her eyes. He found himself captivated by the hint of a smile that had clung to her lips even as she slept. He had always thought her beautiful. In the filtered light of early morning, she was breathtaking.

The night before had been a revelation. He had dreamed of the moment he could finally admit his feelings for his friend… his partner. Reality, for once, was better than fantasy. That unprecedented fact made what happened all the more remarkable… dreams just didn't come true in his experience.

After their confessions in the car during the ride down, they had finally calmed enough to finish the trip. Deciding they wanted something a little bit special… at least more special than the budget airport motels the NYPD normally funded, they had found a hotel near the ocean, one with a modest ocean view. Atlantic City's economy relied on luring gamblers to the casinos, so hotels tended to keep the rates low in hopes of filling the tables with patrons. The one they had chosen had been nice enough without blowing either of their perennially tight budgets… romance was important, but cops didn't get paid enough for extravagance. Besides, they couldn't turn in an expense report with only one room.

Neither the room nor the view would have made a travel guide's list of must sees, but, under the circumstances, he hadn't been paying much attention to the décor. Fin had only had eyes for the beautiful woman that had walked into his arms as soon as he had closed the door behind them. All they had really needed was a room far from the interested gaze of their colleagues, a strong lock to keep out the rest of the world, and a king sized bed.

They had talked… a little… enough for them to feel comfortable with the commitment they were making to each other. This one was serious for both of them… something they wanted to nurture in hopes of making it last for the rest of their lives. They both knew they had a lot riding on their ability to juggle the demands of a new relationship with the demands of their job. They owed it to the rest of their unit not to screw this up almost as much as they owed it to themselves.

That said, the rest of the night had been a blur of passion… a passion long denied. Their first time had been wild and untamed. In retrospect, anything else would have been a disappointment. Liv had wanted him as much as he wanted her. He had never known another time when the level of desire between him and his lover had been so equal… so balanced. That seemed to bode well for their chances of making their relationship work.

/My lover,/ he silently mused. /Seems I've wanted this forever… not only to be able to say it… but mean it. Damn! Who knew it could be this amazing to say something so simple… my lover!/

To his annoyance, his stomach grumbled. They had skipped dinner the night before… food hadn't seemed all that important in the grand scheme of things. Now, he had to grudgingly admit he was starving. A quick glace at the bedside clock confirmed it was getting late. They had work to do… but the next day was Saturday. They could sleep as late as they wanted.

/Well… sleep some,/ he thought, a smirk lighting his handsome face. /At least more than we did last night!/

"Do you always wake up looking so smug?"

The smirk deepened as he watched her deep brown eyes drift the rest of the way open to meet his. Bending to catch her lips in a lingering 'good-morning' kiss, he whispered against hers, "Naw, baby… only mornings when I wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world."

Feeling her slender arms slip over his shoulders, Fin took another quick look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Deciding a quick cup of coffee and a danish from the corner bodega would get him through to lunch… and still allow them to 'be to work on time', he let her pull him down into her arms.

/Hell, food is overrated most of the time anyway…./

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Tapping on Cragen's office door, John stuck his head inside. "Got a sec, Cap? I need to update you on a possible complication to the Hellman case."

Looking up from the stack of files in front of him, Don motioned to the chair across from his desk. "What now? This case seems to have nothing but complications."

"True," John agreed, gratefully sinking into the hard chair. He had been up late into the night tracking down as much information as he could on Richard Welch. That search had led to his early arrival at the precinct that morning as he tried to fill in the gaps… some of them dealing with Samantha herself.

What he had found had taken him by surprise, a rarity after over 25 years as a cop. He knew it was the type of information that the defendants' lawyers could use to damage Sam's credibility. She didn't deserve for that to happen, but he had been around too many blocks to doubt that it could play out that way.

"Samantha Dunbar has a history of domestic abuse… a real bastard of an ex-husband," he began. "Dunbar doesn't appear to be her real name… she started using it after she moved here. Her real name is Eva Byrne Welch. We've been assuming the difference in surnames with her brother meant she was still using her ex's name."

Reaching up to massage his neck, Cragen demanded, "How did you find that out?"

Handing Cragen a file containing the copies of several documents he had uncovered, including several news articles with pictures of Sam and her ex, John began. "I stopped by last night to see if she was up to giving a statement. Still need to do that by the way… that's my top priority this morning if she's up to it. Anyway, she mentioned she didn't want her ex to have access to her room at the hospital. She was obviously terrified of him. I handled that… then went home and began to see what I could find out about him. His name is Richard Welch, so the discrepancies in names jumped out at me immediately."

Frowning, Cragen prompted, "And?"

"Welch is well connected to the DC power structure… a real insider's insider," Munch began. "The DC Police have a file several inches thick on him… assault, breaking and entering… stalking allegations filed by Sam and several other women, including his current wife. He even has a couple of rape investigations in his jacket, but, one way or another, they all 'went away' and the son-of-a-bitch walked."

"Were the cases weak?"

Shaking his head, John offered, "Not from what I got from the detective I spoke with at DC's SVU. According to… Det. Ross Parrise, the evidence had a way of disappearing before trial… medical records and personnel became sketchy on the pertinent details… that sort of thing. Apparently, his old man was wired into every corner of the capital… could make or break careers. Add to that, the Welch family is loaded. It's not hard to see the vics never had a chance."

"And Samantha Dunbar was one of his vics?" Cragen summarized.

Raking a weary hand though his hair, John nodded. "His favorite victim from what I've found so far. She was a promising young attorney with a law firm that specialized in environmental issues… was on the fast track for a partnership when she met the bastard. The firm where she now works… ESP, must know more than they've told us. Unless they didn't do a background check, someone had to know she was using an alias. I can't imagine they didn't ask for a copy of her license to practice law in New York State at the very least. The other option is she used phony documents to establish her bona fides."

"So, she gave a false name when she was arrested following the demonstration this summer and may have lied to her employer to get her job," Don observed. "Great! That will help her credibility as a witness!"

Nodding, John agreed. "Yeah, but… from what little she told me last night, she probably didn't have much choice if she wanted to escape from Welch. The last time he broke into her apartment, he beat and raped her… found her personal information and cleaned out her bank accounts. Parrise confirmed what little she told me about that incident. The way the violence was escalating, he would have killed her eventually. We've both seen the pattern too many times not to appreciate what she was up against."

"Yeah, but it makes her vulnerable on cross… plus her history of abuse could be twisted to suggest she overreached to what was happening. That will be a tough sell, but we've both seen the crap lawyers can unload on a jury," Don murmured, disgust at that fact evident in his tone. "Since none of the charges against her ex resulted in a conviction, the defense could tear her apart on the stand saying she's unstable and a compulsive liar… anything to sling mud on our case."

"Yeah," John agreed. "It could get ugly for her."

"What else did you find out about her?" Cragen prompted.

Sighing, John admitted, "Nothing that helps. Once she married Welch, her career went into reverse… clients began to drop her under pressure from the old man… apparently, sonny-boy wanted her to stay home under his thumb, so the job had to go. The loss of clients was accompanied by frequent absences from work due to 'accidents' in the home, reports of domestic disturbances called in by neighbors… you know the pattern. Within two years, she was out of a job and blackballed at other firms."

"Blackballed?" Don repeated. "They were that blatant?"

"No finesse necessary from what Parrise told me… no need for it," John confirmed. "Once word made the rounds the Welch family didn't want her working… preferred having their women play a more traditional role in the home, doors closed in her face. Friendships dried up and she soon found herself isolated and completely at Welch's mercy."

"Why didn't she leave… she had a law degree after all? She could have gone to another city and started over years ago. Why wait so long to make a break?" Don demanded.

Sighing, John supplied, "She did try, but he always managed to track her down. What money she had, he managed to steal with the aid of his accountants, so it was hard for her to get very far. Parrise said he tried to get him for kidnap twice… he almost lost his job each time… was demoted the second time."

"As for Sam," he continued, "she made it as far as LA seven years ago … she was pregnant at the time. She had already lost three babies from miscarriages. Welch found her two months later… literally snatched her off the street, drugged her to keep her quiet, then tossed her in his private jet for a one-way trip back to her private hell. She had a fourth miscarriage the day after he got her back… a maid found her passed out on the floor of the bedroom in a pool of blood and called an ambulance."

"Damn!"

"Yeah… it gets worse," John inserted. "Welch apparently was allowed to check her out of the hospital while she was still in the recovery room following a dnc… wasn't even lucid from the meds they had given her. He literally waltzed in and carried her out still in her hospital gown… pulled the iv's out of her arm while the staff watched and did nothing."

Noting the anger building on his captain's face, he hurried to finish his report. "A neighbor saw him carrying her into the elevator at their downtown address. She could see Sam was bleeding heavily from post-surgical complications and called for help… probably saved her life. Sam almost hemorrhaged to death."

"He got away with that?"

"And then some," John confirmed. "The neighbor… Toni Collins, pitched a fit and threatened to go to the press if he wasn't charged. She was found a week later raped and beaten behind a dumpster in the 'burbs. Eyewitnesses to her abduction all ID'ed Welch as the one that grabbed her, but their memories deserted them at trial… plus the rape kit went missing along with most of the other physical evidence that proved he was her rapist."

"Top it off, Ms. Collins suffered serious brain trauma from the beating. Welch's lawyer made mincemeat out of her on the stand," John reported. "Anna Simpson, the maid that called for the ambulance, was fired… apparently she was supposed to ask for permission to call 911. Her car was found down an embankment next to the southbound lanes of I-95 just north of Richmond a month later. Car had been torched, no evidence or clues of who was responsible."

"What happened to her?"

Sighing, John admitted, "No one knows. Anna was last seen in a McDonald's parking lot, talking to a man fitting Welch's description. She's still missing… no body has ever been found. Sensing a pattern here, Cap?"

"Who are these people?" Cragen demanded, appalled by the information his detective was giving him.

"Apparently, the Welch family-tree is more a series of corporate mergers… fortunes made in various defense, energy, and mining interests. They've known where all the bodies were buried since at least the Korean War," Much summarized. "Welch Senior is on the board of a dozen major corporations… sits on the board of a number of philanthropic organizations, and has had the direct line to every president and cabinet secretary for the last twenty-five years. Until Junior began to make them fodder for the gossips, the family made a practice of keeping a very low profile. You had to be an insider's insider to know them."

Holding Munch's gaze, Don asked, "And Junior has been a popular topic of the gossips?"

"Insider gossip for the most part," John hedged. "Daddy had the pull to keep most of his indiscretions out of the press. Parisse said Welch's file is full of one incident after the other. The Collins case is the only one that made a ripple… and barely that. Coverage was almost nonexistent. Sam was in trouble the second he set eyes on her and nobody warned her. No wonder she says she's all alone… she has been for most of the last fourteen years."

"Doesn't she have a brother?"

A frown proceeded, "In name at least. Younger brother is a Major in the Air Force. His career wasn't going anywhere until after Sam's marriage to Welch. Matthew Byrne suddenly had all the right stuff… influential supporters, marriage to the daughter of his base commander… prestigious postings."

"I'm not going to like where this goes am I?"

"Sorry, no," John agreed. "His career's been in a nosedive ever since Sam's divorce from Welch became final. Both he and his wife blame his problems on Sam…seem to think she owed it to them to remain Welch's punching bag. He's been in Iraq since the war began… likely to stay there a while longer. Parrise thinks it's a 50-50 toss-up whether he'll support his sister or sell her out to Welch hoping to regain his favor."

"So, how did Sam manage to get Welch to agree to the divorce?"

"She was unable to have children after the last miscarriage… more likely after the second round of surgery she needed after his stunt in the recovery room," John replied, a lethal anger gleaming in his dark eyes. "Senior wanted an heir, so Sam had to be replaced. She's just lucky she got to leave on her own two feet and not in a body bag. He strung out the divorce for several years until one of his girlfriends got pregnant. The not so lucky winner of the title Welch Broodmare hasn't fared much better than Sam… even after she's spit out 2 ½ kids in just over three years… two boys. A baby girl was stillborn last month after Carol Welch suffered an 'accidental' fall down the stairs."

"How much of this did Sam tell you?"

Flipping his note pad shut, John admitted, "Not much. She sanitized the story a lot. I've heard the lies abused women tell too many times not to recognize the signs when I hear them. She's still coming to terms with what that bastard did to her and… frankly, I'm not sure she can handle a trial, especially if this all comes out. We both know it's doubtful her past will remain hidden once the defendants' lawyers start poking around."

Sighing, Cragen slumped back in his chair. "Yeah… we've both seen what money can buy. Talk to Casey and update her. She needs to be ready if they decide to go for a preemptive strike and leak the stories to the press. Does Welch Senior's power stretch to New York?"

"It did until recently, but he had a stroke two days after his daughter-in-law lost the baby," John supplied. "Since then, he's been in a vegetated state and the family's powerbase has rapidly begun to erode. Junior doesn't have the standing or the personality to command much respect. Parrise gleefully predicted his days of skating out of trouble may be at an end. If that's the case, it's doubtful he can control the media like his father."

"I'm not sure which is worse… but the situation is what it is," Cragen concluded, resigned to the fact that some things would always be outside of their control. "Where are we on finding the Alvarez girl?"

"Casey left a message that she has a meeting scheduled with the Embassy's legal counsel after lunch today thanks to the intervention the US Embassy in Honduras," John replied. "She said she'd like one of us to go with her to the meeting."

"Elliot is on his way to interview Martin Danvers, so he will be out of the office until this afternoon," Cragen mused. "If you're not back from interviewing Samantha Dunbar, I guess it will be me. If she gets the TRO lifted… the Federal one is the last one, right? OK, I'll give you a call and get you to run by the school for the records. We need to see what they are trying so hard to hide A'sap."

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Fin traded a look with Olivia, mentally scolding himself to school his features to the normal stoic façade he wore like a mask. /Damn, Fin… you have a reputation to maintain! Munch will have way too much fun if you don't get a handle on this shit!/

"I can't get over this… you're actually smiling… smiling out in broad daylight for God and everyone to see," Liv teased, the smug smile of a woman that knows she's the cause of his exceptional mood lighting her face. "I've known you almost eight years and I've seen you smile more this morning than I have in all that time combined."

Rolling his eyes at her teasing, he tried to change the topic. Pointing to the address on a nondescript white mailbox, he observed, "That's the address we got for Cambiati and his wife. Ready to get at it?"

The wicked twinkle in her eyes caused him to abandon his attempts to wipe the smile off of his face. "Yes, I am… but you made me get out of bed and go to work anyway… spoilsport."

Chuckling, Fin guided their car into a space half-a-block down the street from a small cottage tucked in the middle of a cluster of similar homes a few blocks off of the ocean. Leaning over to claim her lips in a quick kiss, he retorted, "Behave. We've got work to do or Cragen is going to want to know what we've been up to. We need to interview these folks and get back to the City by a decent hour. Personally, I'd prefer not to have to explain why we didn't check out of the motel until after 9:30… so keep it up and that's going to be just what we have to do."

Stroking his cheek, she grinned. "I seem to remember you were the one to suggest it would save time if we shared a shower. Not my fault we got distracted."

"And I seem to remember you were the one that got a little carried away with that sponge," he pointed out, cutting off her response with a second, deeper kiss.

Breaking the kiss before it could get out of control, he urged, "We need to focus or Cap will never let us go out in the field together again. He'll think we might get up to something."

"And we might," she observed, pleased to note he was just a breathless as she was. "OK, OK… work now, but you're all mine this weekend. Deal?"

Against her lips, he whispered, "All yours, baby. And, you're all mine."

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The man that opened the door in response to their knock looked a lot older than the picture they had seen in the DMV records. Michael Cambiati was a tall, thin man with a heavy dose of grey at both temples. The grey stood out in stark contrast to the thick blue-black mane of hair that brushed past his shoulders. Narrow green eyes flicked nervously between their badges and their faces, his hand griping the door frame so tightly his knuckles glowed white against the deep tan he had acquired during a summer spent living on the beach.

"Yes, what can I do for you, officers?"

Fin glanced over at Liv to see if she was getting the same vibe off of Cambiati as he was… the man was barely containing his panic, his fear palatable. "We need to talk to you about your former employers, the Phelps."

Clutching at the door a little tighter, he refused to meet either detective's eyes as he offered, "Not much I can tell you, detective. I was their butler for several years, but I hardly knew them. The Phelps aren't the type to talk to the help beyond giving orders and demanding something be done immediately… blaming someone if things aren't done to their satisfaction. Beyond that…"

Tilting her head to look around Cambiati into the living room of the cottage, Olivia made note of several pieces of luggage a few feet away. "Can we come in, Mr. Cambiati? My partner and I have a number of questions we believe you can help us with. We promise not to take too much of your time."

Shifting nervously, the man shook his head. "Now isn't really convenient. My wife and I are running late. We're leaving town for a few weeks to visit friends out west and our plane leaves at noon. We'll give you a call when we get…"

Breaking into the excuse, Fin interjected, "We can do this the easy way, a nice friendly chat here in your home or we can do this the hard way… a call to the Atlantic City Police with a request they honor an extradition order to send you back to New York as a material witness. Now which is it?"

Blustering, Cambiati retorted, "You can't come into my house and start issuing threats. You're out of your jurisdiction and…"

"Our boss already called here to alert the local PD we were paying you a visit," Fin concluded. "Now… easy or hard?"

A voice from behind Cambiati insisted, "There's nothing my husband can tell you." A petite woman with short blonde hair appeared at her husband's side. "Mike had to sign a legal document before he went to work for the Phelps that promised he wouldn't discuss anything he heard while working there with anyone. That means…"

"It means he can't sell his story to The Enquirer," Olivia countered. "This is a police investigation. Confidentiality agreements aren't binding in criminal matters. Now, like my partner said… hard or easy?"

"I don't know what it is you think I know," Cambiati began, "but I left the Phelps' employee several months ago. I haven't seen any of them since. I hardly…"

"We know what happened in the spring, Mr. Cambiati," Olivia challenged. "We're here to discuss Rosa Alvarez."

All color drained from the couples faces as they stared in horror at the two detectives. "How…"

Before he could complete his question, Cambiati's eyes widened in shock… then, he slumped to the floor. A pool of blood quickly saturated the white carpet as a gapping wound in his neck began to gush. A second bullet smashed the glass on the front of a small curio cabinet near the door as Fin and Olivia hit the floor, pulling a screaming Hope Cambiati with them. A third shot…

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