Author notes: Happy New Year! It's a longer chapter this time guys - at least by my standards ;).
Thanks for all your lovely comments, follows and favourites – I savour them all!
Thanks again to the lovely Mellow_mel for her beta work
You'll Get Yours – Chapter 10
Sharon sat behind her desk, quietly contemplating the second delivery she had received that day. Between her fingertips she held a small plastic bag containing the empty photo key-ring from Jackson's key chain – the photograph from which was already in evidence.
The picture had been taken in a photo-booth whilst her family were on vacation in Florida. They were happy times; before Sharon joined FID…before Jackson left…before the whole mess with Jimmy started.
She felt sick.
Could it be simply a coincidence that the photograph used as a centrepiece in the macabre display, was also a snap shot from the last joint vacation her family took with the Banston's?
Sharon doubted it.
That insight to her families past could not be found in any crime report or evidence bag. The only people that could know that level of information would have had to have been there on that day, or have discussed the specifics with somebody that was.
With every member of the Banston family dead or incarcerated, that only left her own.
Sharon had spoken with her children; Ricky could remember the vacation and the photograph being taken, but Kathryn had been too young at the time to really remember anything. Neither of her children had discussed that trip with anyone – which only left her estranged husband.
Jackson, of course, had denied everything. Unfortunately, in that large window of time between Sharon giving her husband a key to her apartment and the break-in, there was no guarantee of his sobriety.
She could just imagine Jack sat at a bar, hunched over his scotch, clutching the key-ring whilst nostalgically recounting their last vacation as a family to anybody that would listen; he always was an emotional drunk.
A knock at the door startled Sharon, dragging her from her memories and causing her to drop the evidence bag onto the desk. The Captain steeled herself with a cleansing breath; she adjusted her glasses and straightened her posture.
"Come in."
Detective Sykes opened the door sharply, "Captain, our missing agent's sister is on her way up."
"Thank you, Amy," Sharon pushed back from the desk and got to her feet; despite her personal predicament, Major Crimes still had a case to solve.
Ignoring the protests of Lieutenant Provenza, Sharon had decided to stay at the office and speak with Margo Smithson – the sister of agent to the stars Franco DeSalve - before she returned to her apartment. "Have we had any further developments in tracking down Mr DeSalve?"
"No ma'am," Sykes shook her head. "Lieutenant Tao is looking at the agent's phone records, and Detective Sanchez and I are heading out to the airport to check security footage."
Sharon spied Lieutenant Provenza from across the room, beavering away at his desk; a tightness formed in her gut – had he started work on her case already?
"Lieutenant Flynn?" She asked trying to sound casual; Andy had been hovering around Sharon all day. Although his concern for her wellbeing was endearing – for some reason his proximity unnerved her.
"With our suspect's sister, Captain."
"Alright," Sharon picked up the bag containing the key-ring and outstretched her arm towards the younger detective. "Can you see that Detective Grundy in Robbery Homicide gets this please?"
"Yes, Captain." Sykes took the proffered evidence bag, but made no move to leave.
"Was there something else, Detective Sykes?" Sharon asked casually as she donned her dark grey suit-jacket, pulling her hair free from under the collar.
"No, Ma'am," Amy took a step backwards – beginning her retreat to the murder room. "I'll drop this into Detective Grundy right away."
The Captain nodded her thanks with a tight smile, relieved that Amy had decided not to press her about recent events.
She buttoned her jacket, smoothed her purple dress around her hips and confident that her Captain Raydor armour was back in place, she followed Amy into the murder room.
"Excuse me, Buzz?"
"Yes Captain?" Buzz looked up from his monitor and got to his feet.
"We will be questioning Mrs Smithson in Interview 1, can you set up in the comms room please?"
"Of course."
"Thank you." Sharon then turned her attention to Lieutenant Tao, "Mike, did you find anything on our suspect's social networking accounts that might be useful?"
"Not yet, Captain – but I'm running the numbers on his cell phone from the night that he disappeared; hopefully that will give us something to work with."
"Alright, thank you..." Sharon then looked to Provenza who was currently on the phone; she slowly made her way over to him – reaching his desk just as he was finishing up the call.
The Captain was still unsure about allowing a member of her team to investigate her case - and it wasn't just the Russell Taylor factor that made her uncomfortable. Past experience had turned Sharon into a fiercely private person - one not at all used to having colleagues so involved in her personal matters.
"Between six and eight – got it thanks." Provenza placed the phone back on the receiver and instantly responded to his superiors questioning gaze. "Visiting hours at Ridgewater Psychiatric," he explained. "Once Flynn gets back from the second sweep of your apartment – I'm going to pay this Ian Banston a visit."
"Lieutenant Provenza," Sharon protested, "I appreciate your…"
"Let's not do this again, Captain." Provenza interrupted her as he got to his feet and grabbed a coffee mug from the desk.
"Lieutenant?" Sharon questioned him, a little taken back at his abruptness.
"Stop worrying about Taylor," he waved his hand dismissively in the air. "He won't suspect a thing."
Sharon crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "That may be true, Lieutenant -"
"Look, I don't know how it was in Internal Affairs, Captain," Provenza cut in again, gesticulating with the empty coffee mug in hand. "But here in Major Crimes, we look out for our own; nothing you say is going to stop me and Flynn from finding out who this creep is that's been threatening you."
Sharon dropped her hands to her side; she was more than a little touched by the crotchety Lieutenant's open acceptance of her as 'one of their own', but she gathered herself quickly; a fleeting smile touching her lips.
"That's Flynn and I, Lieutenant." Sharon corrected his phrasing teasingly, but her smile portrayed genuine appreciation for his words.
Before Provenza could retort with his own dose of sarcasm, Andy entered the murder room with Margo Smithson in tow.
xXx
"Well that was a waste of time," Flynn returned to the office after showing Margo Smithson to the elevators.
The interview with the suspect sister hadn't shed any new light on the whereabouts of their suspect; the process had also taken them much longer than expected. It appeared that DeSalve wasn't particularly popular with his own family; but that didn't stop Margo Smithson from telling the detectives why – at length. Unfortunately, while good for building a character profile – most of what she'd had to say was irrelevant.
The team had now gathered by the murder board to see if collectively, they could find a new angle on the case.
"It wasn't entirely a waste of time..." Sharon frowned as she processed the information on the board. "Margo Smithson said that she hadn't spoken to her brother since he was charged with assaulting one of his clients," Captain Raydor looked down at her interview notes, then to her team. "A Miss Leanne McGrath."
"An aspiring folk singer apparently," Andy held up the crime report on his desk. "File says the creep got a little handsy with her after a show."
Sharon frowned, "but didn't Amber Moore tell you in her statement earlier today, that her Agent was gay Lieutenant?"
"Maybe he's not too fussy." Provenza shrugged.
"Or maybe she's lying." Sanchez chipped in.
"Maybe…but why?" Sharon looked back to the board and Amber Moore's timeline, before turning to address Lieutenant Tao. "Mike, have you found any anomalies with Mr DeSalve's phone records?"
"Just that he received a phone call at 5:25pm, 10 minutes after he checked in at LAX. The phone call came from a payphone near Griffith Park; that was the last incoming or outgoing call to his cell."
"Who uses payphones anymore?" Provenza grumbled as he got to his feet, swiping a board marker from his desk.
"Someone who doesn't want to be traced." Andy offered as he came to stand next to Sharon.
"The security footage from LAX confirms it, Captain." Sykes spoke up. "DeSalve answers his cell, talks heatedly to someone for approximately 3 minutes then leaves the airport."
"He took a cab," Sanchez elaborated. "I contacted the company – they said they'd dropped him at his place at approximately 7pm and no one has seen him since."
"He's not used his credit cards, his social media accounts…" Tao continued.
"So," Sharon paced walkway between the desks. "Somebody who doesn't want to be traced, calls our suspect…"
"…And then DeSalve vanishes off the face of the earth." Provenza, who was in the process of updating the timeline turned to the team, board-marker in hand. "Call this a hunch, but I'm starting to think that our suspect may in fact, be another victim."
xXx
With the team busy looking into Franco DeSalve's private affairs, Captain Raydor decided to deal with her own.
She had left them in the very capable hands of Lieutenant Provenza and true to her word, Sharon was heading home to 're-sweep' her apartment – which evidently was something that her lieutenants believed she was incapable of doing by herself.
She glanced in the rear view mirror to check if Andy's vehicle was still following a few cars behind.
"Of course it is." She muttered to herself sarcastically as she turned up the air conditioning; LA was stiflingly hot today.
As Andy had to return to the office after they were done, they had travelled to her apartment in separate cars - which was a welcome relief to Sharon; she savoured the silence of her vehicle and her personal space.
Andy had been following her around all day; asking her if she was ok, loitering on the periphery, looking at her like she was fragile – like she might at any moment just shatter into a million pieces.
He was worried about her, she knew – but Sharon also knew how to defend herself. She didn't need him to worry about her; she needed him to do his job.
"Shit!" Sharon slammed on her breaks - causing the car behind to honk their horn; so absorbed in her thoughts was she, that she'd almost run a red light.
Sharon internally chastised herself as she simultaneously apologised to the woman behind with a wave of her arm and switched the radio on; hoping to tune into the music and get out of her own head.
'And it's too late, baby, now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died
And I can't hide and I just can't fake it'
As Sharon allowed the velvet tones of Carole King to calm her wrought nerves, the lights turned green and she stepped on the gas.
She knew that she was being unfair to Andy; she hadn't been standoffish when Lieutenant Tao asked her about the break in, or annoyed when Lieutenant Provenza checked for the third time that day 'how she was holding up'.
'So why is Andy's attention bothering me?'
When Captain Raydor had initially taken over Major Crimes, Andy seemed more of an adversary than a comrade; it felt to Sharon like their friendship had almost snuck up on her – taking her entirely by surprise. But over the last couple of months, there appeared to have been another shift in their relationship; a shift that their time spent together last night had brought to the forefront of her mind.
A woman knows when a man is interested - and Andy Flynn was definitely interested.
And if she were truly honest with herself, deep down Sharon knew that she was developing an affection for her lieutenant that went beyond the realms of the purely platonic.
She cringed inwardly when she recalled the disappointment she had felt that morning - awaking to find that Andy had already left her apartment; how she had smiled like an idiot at the note he had left her…
"Oh God…" She groaned as she turned into a side street, finally understanding the source of her recent frustration; Sharon wasn't mad at Andy - she was scared about how he made her feel.
"I'm married." She voiced her inner protest – as if hearing those words would help to shake her feelings for Andy – but instead, and not for the first time, she questioned her marriage to Jackson.
Sharon had thought about filing for divorce on many occasions – but in 20 years, her motivation had never been another man. Oddly enough, there had always been more reasons not to file for divorce; some were financial, some were religious…and some were a little more complex.
Ultimately however, years of virtual solitude had rendered Sharon feeling more than a little awkward about relationships.
Having purposefully kept her distance from co-workers whilst working in FID - and not having much time to socialise outside of work – Sharon was a little out of practice. The thought of being emotionally intimate with another man made her feel uncomfortable…and the physical side of things upped that anxiety tenfold.
Although Sharon kept fit and had always looked after herself – there was no denying that carrying and nursing two children, had taken its toll on her body; nothing was where it used to be.
Her husband knew all of this – and he didn't care. Still being married to Jackson did come with certain…marital privileges…which from time to time, when her husband was in LA, Sharon had indulged in. She could always chalk those times down to momentary lapses of sanity, but the truth was, they were still extremely compatible in bed; after all these years, Jackson could still make her toes curl. Sharon was human - she had needs and her husband was just…convenient.
She'd been hiding behind her broken marriage, hiding behind her job, hiding behind her excuses…but the thought of stepping out from behind those things was terrifying.
As she drove her vehicle into the parking garage of her apartment, Sharon laughed wryly at the absurdity of her situation; there were threats being made against her life and she'd just spent a twenty minute car journey thinking about men.
"Get a grip, Sharon." she told herself firmly as she undid her seatbelt and reached for her purse – but as Andy joined her in the garage her bravado was instantly dimmed by the flutter of nerves in her belly.
Sharon swallowed audibly, "oh God."
xXx
The tension was palpable.
The ride in the elevator to Sharon's apartment was spent in a silence that was far from comfortable; Andy didn't know where to put himself. Although Sharon's frostiness towards him seemed to have dissipated, it had been replaced with an awkwardness that he didn't quite understand.
She had greeted him from his car casually and made small talk about their case, but Sharon's body language displayed anything but comfort and her conversation appeared forced.
'Did something happen on the way over here?'
He shoved his hands in his pockets and watched the elevator light up numbers on the board as it ascended; Sharon's odd behaviour, Andy supposed, could be put down to the task ahead of them…But she seemed almost jittery – and Captain Raydor was anything but jittery.
He followed her silently down the hall to her apartment; she came to a halt at the front door and fished around in her purse for a key.
"A new key," Sharon explained, breaking the uncomfortable silence as she slipped it into the lock. "I had the locks changed this morning."
"Smart move." Andy responded as she pushed the door open and they crossed the threshold to her apartment.
He hovered in the entrance way as Sharon removed her shoes and dropped her keys on the phone table. "Would you like a drink, Lieutenant?" She called over her shoulder as she moved purposefully into the apartment.
Andy slowly followed Sharon around the corner and into the living area where he could see that she was rummaging around in the refrigerator.
"I'm good thanks," he leant against the kitchen counter and watched as she fought with the packaging on a six pack of bottled water.
She finally pulled a bottle of Evian free from its cardboard fortress and shut the refrigerator door.
"Okay," she looked to Andy fleetingly and skirted around him – quickly crossing the apartment. "I'm going to get a head start in the bedroom," she stopped walking momentarily. "I mean sweep," she corrected the 'double entendre' quickly with a wave of her hand, but didn't turn around to face him. "I'm going to start the sweep in the bedroom."
"Alright..." Andy frowned; that was a barely dirty faux-pas – if Sharon hadn't just reacted the way she did, he would have missed the sexual innuendo completely. But rather than tease her about it, as he watched her scurry away from him, his concern for her won out. "Captain?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Sharon stopped by the doorway to her bedroom and hesitantly turned to face him, the hand not clutching the bottle of water seeking out a pocket in her blazer.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his brow furrowed.
"I fine, Andy," Sharon nodded once, her stoic mask firmly in place. "I'm just anxious to get the sweep started, that's all." With that, she turned away from him and entered her bedroom.
xXx
"I have no idea what I'm looking for." Andy muttered to himself as he looked over the items on the shelves behind Sharon's dining table. "And I have no idea what that is…" He crouched, frowning at a clay sculpture that sat on the top shelf.
'I've only been here once before, how the hell could I know what should and should not be here?'
Andy sighed and removed his jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair; this was ridiculous. Both he and Sharon knew that the only reason he had offered to sweep her apartment was so that he could keep an eye on her.
'So why is she keeping up the pretence?'
After floating around cluelessly in the living room for about 30 minutes, Andy decided that he'd had enough of searching through Sharon's vast collection 'arty ornaments.'
'Why do women need all of this stuff?'
He finally admitted defeat and headed to the bedroom to see Sharon - when he reached the room, he wished he'd quit sooner.
Sharon was perched on the bed, staring at the wall ahead of her; in her arms she clung to what looked to Andy like a tattered journal or album.
"You've cleaned up fast." He observed the room as he tentatively entered; gone were the strewn undergarments and the offensive bedspread that was now in evidence - it had been replaced by a crisp white comforter with deep purple cushions and a matching throw.
"I threw most of it in the trash this morning," Sharon responded flatly without otherwise acknowledging his presence.
"Right," he came to stand in front of her. "Did you find something?"
Sharon dropped her gaze to the elaborately decorated photo album that she clutched to her chest and sniffed. Reluctantly, and with her eyes focussed on her lap - she offered it up to Andy.
"My son made that album for me in fourth grade." Sharon spoke into her chest as Andy flicked through the pages of the album; instead of displaying family photographs that matched the handwritten captions, each page was scrawled with the same message.
'You'll get yours, bitch.'
"Oh God, Sharon. I'm sorry…"
"Yeah, well…" She got to her feet and straightening her posture she left the room. "…So am I."
"For what?" Andy called after Sharon, placing the album on the bed, before following her into the living area. "What the hell do you have to be sorry for?"
"This!" She raised her voice and spun to face Andy - looking at him properly for the first time since they had gotten to her apartment; her green eyes were glazed with unshed tears. "This whole mess is my fault, Andy! I caused this 10 years ago and it is happening again now. I should never have gone to see Jimmy that night."
"Sharon, you didn't know…"
"I was stupid!" She abruptly cut him off. "I went against my better judgement and as a consequence put my children's lives at risk….and now it is happening all over again and I cannot…" her breath caught and she paused to steel herself; to prevent the tears from falling. "…I cannot even guarantee the safety of Rusty in my own home – Andy, what if they take him away from me…I…"
"Sharon," Andy couldn't watch anymore; he stepped forward and took her into his arms - to his surprise she offered no resistance. "Rusty isn't going anywhere."
He wrapped his arms tighter around her shoulders as they shook with emotion - he felt the warmth of her tears soaking through his shirt. "The kid has security detail on him wherever he goes – he couldn't be safer anywhere than here with you."
Sharon's hands clutched at Andy's hips as she tried to breathe deeply – attempting to fight back her tears and compose herself. Andy ran his hand soothingly through hair until she pulled back slightly, releasing her grip on his hips.
"I'm sorry to cry on you, Andy." She looked at him through bloodshot eyes, her porcelain complexion was blotchy from spent tears. "I think it is all just hitting me, I…"
"It's ok," Andy pushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear – his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "If it was me, I'd be a total wreck," he joked.
She smiled thinly at the gesture, before a slight frown creased her brow. "Andy, I'm sorry that I have been a little off with you today…"
"It's understandable," He squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "You've been through a lot…"
"No," she shook her head and looked at her bare feet. "No, I have treated you unfairly."
"We're friends. You think I'm too close to your case, so you gave the job to Provenza," he shrugged. "I get it - its fine."
"No, Andy that's not it." Sharon paused to nervously lick her lips and took a step backwards – putting distance between them. "I allowed Lieutenant Provenza to investigate my case, because I'm worried that I am getting too close to you."
"Come again?"
"Andy, I'm not exactly sure what this thing is that's developing between us…but it appears to be evolving beyond simple friendship and that unnerves me. I know that you sense it too."
"Sense it?" A lopsided smile touched Andy's lips at the very notion that she may feel the same way. "Sharon, it's been driving me crazy."
But Sharon didn't share in his mirth, "whatever it is, Andy - it has to stop."
"Why?" He asked incredulously.
"You know why."
"Sharon," he protested, taking a step towards her – closing the space between them. "We're not doing anything wrong."
"Not yet."
'Not yet?' Sharon's words swirled around Andy's mind as he dropped his gaze to her lips. 'She's struggling with this as much as I am.'
"Andy," she pleaded with him, yet didn't back away. "This is not an option; I am married and I am your boss. We have to stop this now."
"I'm sorry Sharon," his gaze locked with hers and he heard her breath hitch. "But I don't know that I can." Without a second thought, Andy leant down and captured her lips with his own…but her lips remained tense and unmoving.
He pulled away - terrified that he had just made an awful mistake. 'What have I done?'
Sharon stared at him wide eyed; Andy watched as she raised a hand to her face - her fingers tentatively touching her lips. He could see the barrage of emotions playing out behind her eyes.
"Sharon I'm sorry," Andy ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what came over me I…"
"Don't," she said flatly, her expression conveying absolutely nothing – before she moved swiftly towards him. "Don't apologise."
Andy stumbled back as Sharon's lips crashed into his; she had caught him completely off guard. As his legs connected with the back of the couch, he wrapped his arms around her waist - deepening the kiss – his tongue stroking deliciously against hers for the first time.
It felt amazing – and yet it wasn't enough.
Sharon moaned into his mouth as his hands dropped - palming her rear – pulling her towards him as she untucked his shirt from his pants.
'Is this really happening?' Andy asked himself as he broke from the kiss to run his lips down Sharon's throat, pushing his hips into hers – knowing that she could feel her effect on him through the fabric of her dress. 'We shouldn't do this now – Sharon's upset – I'm taking advantage…'
Unfortunately, Andy didn't get a chance to voice his concerns; at that very moment the front door to the apartment swung open.
"Sharon, I'm home!"
Sharon leapt back from Andy in lighting speed, but it was too late; Rusty stood in the entrance way to the apartment, his mouth agape at the sight before him.
"Rusty this is not what it looks like," Sharon explained lamely and Andy grabbed a scatter cushion from the couch to hide the evidence to the contrary.
Rusty didn't move, his gaze running back and forth between them – his expression one of both confusion and horror.
Sharon looked distraught; she shakily ran her hands through her hair and straightened her dress before taking a step towards the young man – her arm outstretched – but he instantly recoiled.
"I'm just," he stammered, looking embarrassed - his grip tightening on his school bag. "I'm just going to go to my room now."
With that, Rusty turned on his heel and quickly retreated to the safety of his bedroom - leaving Sharon and Andy in yet another uncomfortable silence.
TBC
Thanks for reading :)