So, here's chapter eleven! The last part of this chapter has been written for a long time, since around the time I wrote chapter five, and hopefully I've managed to write this whole chapter as well as I'd hoped. It's quite a long one… I considered breaking it into two shorter chapters, but then I thought, what's the point, the last part's written… might as well give it to you all in one go! Anyway, hope you enjoy… reviews very appreciated :-]
Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or any of the characters
Chapter Eleven
Gillian continued to stare at the evidence laid before her, horror mixing with a strange feeling that this made sense somehow. "I should have known," she said, causing Cal to lift his eyes to her questioningly. "Amber's behaviour pattern, her dissociation with the truth… she was obsessed with Adam, he rejected her, and she mentally changed – lashed out in intense anger. It most likely stems from a traumatic event in her past."
"Abuse," Cal said, switching his gaze from Gillian to Amber, but his partner shook her head slightly.
"Not necessarily. I think… I think the catalyst for this was a destructive relationship… this could have all started with a murder. Someone she cared about, her father, an uncle, close family friend… they betrayed her, or rejected her… and she might have killed him."
"So then she starts looking for other men to be nice to her, other 'friends'," Cal supplied, and Gillian nodded emphatically. "But rejection is still a trigger for her. If these men push her away, she'll react in the same way she did the first time. I should have known," she repeated, angry with herself. "I could feel there was something more going on here, something that ran deeper than just an argument gone wrong… I should have realised this wasn't her first time."
"Excuse me," Reynolds interrupted, irritation evident in his voice. "If you two are done psycho-analysing this chick, can we get back to the important matter of proving she's a serial killer?"
"It wouldn't have made any difference, love," Cal said, ignoring Reynolds. He briefly squeezed Foster's shoulder. "What's done is done. All we need to do is make sure this doesn't happen again. And that Rachel Thomas doesn't spend the rest of her life in prison for something she didn't do."
"It won't be easy, unless we can find evidence against her. I don't know how to elicit a confession from her… her mind is so protective of her, she's blocked out all the negativity. She probably doesn't know she's killed any of these men." Gillian waved her hands over the files.
"Scary," Loker commented, and the other three turned to look at him. "I mean… I know they say women are crazy, but this just takes it to a whole new level. Look at her." He gestured towards Amber while Gillian narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "She looks like a model or a cheerleader, not an ice cold killer. And if the crazy women in this world become harder to spot, things just got a whole lot harder for the rest of us."
"Thanks for that Loker," Cal said sarcastically, then turned back to Reynolds. "What you've found should be enough for her to be held in custody for a while though, right? Not that I like the idea of her being locked up in a jail cell."
"I've faxed through what I found to the officer in charge of the investigation, what he'll do with it, I don't know. It's proof that Amber was living in the same city at the same time as men who were killed with the same MO, but it's not concrete proof that she's responsible, or that Rachel's innocent."
"I need to call Eric," Gillian said, heading towards the door.
"Don't you think we should talk to her again?" Cal asked pointedly, not bothering to hide his opinion that Gillian's presence in the Cube right now was more important than keeping Eric up to speed.
She shook her head. "We've questioned her enough for now. I don't think we'll get anymore out of her today. Wait and see how the police want to handle it." She left the room, and Cal paused only briefly before heading towards the door to the Cube.
"Didn't Foster say…" Loker began.
"Shut it," was Cal's ineloquent reply, and he pushed open the door to the Cube and sat himself down opposite Amber.
"Amber," he said, as she smiled up at him, putting her nail file away in her bag.
"Can I go now?"
"You might have to talk to the police, after you leave here." He watched her face closely, as fear flashed in her eyes.
"Why?"
"They're just trying to find out what happened to Adam. And I know that you want to help them do that, don't you? You want to help Adam."
Her plump lips made a perfect O shape as she considered what to say next. "I don't really like the police. Can't I stay here to answer questions?"
"'Fraid not, love. You know what coppers are like, need to be in control all the time, do things their way. But I promise you," he leant forwards, "they won't hurt you. No one is going to hurt you, or make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to do, okay?"
"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, as if she were trying to process a complex mathematical problem.
"I know sometimes it's easy to do something that you know you shouldn't, because you just react to things, right? You say something that you know you shouldn't to someone that you care about, and it's not because you want to hurt them, it's because you're upset, or angry, or jealous, or a number of other emotions, right?"
"Is he still talking about Amber and Adam?" Loker asked lightly, and Reynolds raised his eyebrows at him.
"Just focus on what you're meant to be doing, why don't you?"
"Hey, Amber removed all the wires. All I'm seeing is what Lightman's seeing," Loker told him. Not even as much as Lightman's seeing, he couldn't help adding in his head.
"And when people hurt you, sometimes even without meaning to, it can change you a little bit. Make you do things that you're ashamed of, things that you wouldn't normally do. Right?"
"I… I suppose." There it was. Shame.
Cal sat back in his chair; ordinarily, he would have snatched at that sign like a pigeon scrabbling for a crumb, snatching at it with a sense of excitement and triumph. But there was too much sorrow here, too many lives had been lost, and Amber's life had certainly be ruined by whatever it was that had happened to her when she was younger.
"What did you do, Amber?" he asked her quietly.
She kept her eyes downcast. "I… I don't want to talk about it." She stood up, her eyes shining with tears. "I want to leave now. Can I leave? I want to leave."
Cal looked up, as the door from the corridor opened and two uniformed officers stepped in, prompting a strangled cry from Amber. Behind the officers stood Gillian, her hands on her hips, shaking her head slightly when her eyes met Cal's.
"Amber," he said, reaching out for her arm, "just remember what I told you, okay? They want to talk to you, but they won't hurt you… we just want to help you." Gillian opened the door to the Cube, and the two men stepped inside.
"Amber Floyd?" the first one said. "I'm Officer Dempsey. We'd like to ask you a few questions at the station. Is that okay?" He was trying his hardest to speak gently, although he couldn't keep the formality from his voice. He had, Cal would have bet money on it, already been given strict instructions by Foster as to how to handle Amber.
"Okay," she said, although her voice wavered a little. "Are you coming with me?" she asked Cal, who could do no more than shake his head sadly. He watched as the two officers led Amber from the Cube and out the door. One of them stopped to say something briefly to Gillian as he passed, and she nodded, then looked at Reynolds, who followed Amber and the officers out of the room.
After the door closed, Cal stayed in the Cube for a few minutes. Gillian turned towards Loker, but her attention was regained by a crashing sound. Turning, she saw the chair on its side, against the glass wall, and Cal bearing his lips in anger and frustration.
"Why don't you go and see if Torres needs any help with the Layton case," Foster said, and Loker stood up, taking the hint. He was used to Lightman and Foster giving him the brush off and requiring him to be elsewhere so they could talk in private; not that he minded right now. Lightman had a temper, that Loker knew, but if anyone could calm him down it was Gillian Foster.
With Loker gone, Gillian walked slowly towards the door. "You okay?"
"Fantastic," he answered.
She stepped in, and wordlessly picked up the chair and stood it back upright. "She'll be okay."
"How d'you know?"
"She'll get the help she needs. There's evidence there somewhere, there has to be. Rachel will be released, and Amber can get proper psychiatric help."
"Win-win," Cal muttered, and Gillian touched his arm lightly.
"You don't usually let cases get to you this much."
"Yeah… well…" He wasn't sure how to answer her, wasn't even sure himself why he felt so caught up in this case, so determined to see justice done for everyone involved.
"If anyone should feel bad about this, it's me. I should have picked up on this yesterday."
"A day makes no difference," he told her again. "I just can't believe it was never picked up before. What the bloody hell were the police across the rest of the country doing when they were supposed to be investigating these murders?"
Gillian shrugged, exhaling softly.
"Gillian." She looked up, as did Cal. "Dr Lightman," Eric added.
Cal felt his jaw set slightly. "Eric," he said, and together he and Gillian exited the Cube and joined Eric outside.
"Gill told me what happened," Eric said. "I can't believe it. I'm petitioning for all charges against Rachel to be dropped immediately in light of new evidence. We're nearly there… and it's all thanks to you." To his credit, he looked at Cal as much as Gillian when he said that, not that that made Cal feel much better.
"Yeah, well, we do what we're paid to do," Cal said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"I don't believe that. Gillian told me that you chase the truth no matter what – you're a man driven by justice and truth, Dr Lightman, not money."
"Yeah, well, that's all well and good, but we still need to pay the electric bills and such, don't we?" Cal said a little shortly, and Eric faltered slightly.
Gillian jumped in to retrieve the situation, smiling at Eric. "We're just glad to be able to help. Hopefully Inspector Hunt will do a proper investigation this time, and Rachel will be out soon. And Amber can get the help she needs."
Eric nodded. At that moment, Heidi poked hear head in through the door. "Dr Foster? There's a phone call for you… sounds pretty important."
"Patch it through to my office," Gillian said, walking away from the two men. Heidi nodded, and Gillian turned back at Cal and Eric. Try not to kill each other, was what she wanted to say, but instead her mouth formed the words, "I won't be long." Stupid thing to say, obviously, as she had no idea what the phone call was about or how long she was going to be, but she couldn't really think of anything else in the moment.
As the door closed behind Foster, Cal and Eric looked at each other; Eric somewhat uncomfortably, although he tried to smile, Cal as though he were interrogating a suspect.
"You're very lucky, working with Gillian." Eric broke the silence.
"Yeah I am." Cal tilted his head as he surveyed Eric.
"I hadn't seen her for a long time, but she's just as I remembered. If anything, she's even more…" He broke off, and gave Cal a small, embarrassed smile.
"Yeah," Cal said, as if Eric had completed the sentence in full. "She is very…"
"Can I ask you a question?" Eric asked, a little hesitantly.
"Just did," Cal replied, and it took Eric a moment to respond.
"Right… yes." He gave a short laugh. "I mean…"
"Go ahead," Cal told him, and Eric nodded.
"It's just that Gillian and I… well, there have always been, feelings, between us." Mutal feelings? Cal wanted to ask, feeling half irritated and half amused at Eric's delusion. Foster wasn't interested in him. Is she? Doubt was starting to creep in, but Cal firmly pushed it to one side as he focussed on Eric, waiting for the inevitable question. "But things," Eric continued, "they've never been… easy. You know, timing wise."
Cal nodded, his face betraying none of the truth that lay within. Timing. Damn timing.
"But now… I don't know if she told you, but I'm living in D.C. Permanently." The emphasis was placed heavily on the last word, but Cal continued to nod, a look of confusion on his face, as if he really didn't see where this was heading.
"I know Gill's going through a divorce, and obviously the timing's not ideal, but… if you wait too long to seize an opportunity, you might lose it, right?"
Cal managed to stop his right hand making a fist as he swallowed his feelings and merely nodded again. "Yeah, I suppose."
"So my question is… do you think it would be totally inappropriate and wrong of me to ask her out… officially? As in, a proper date? Because I know," he went on in a rush, "that we've been working together, and we're old friends, and perhaps friendship is all that she wants, she said the other night…"
Cal's interest peaked a little as he leaned forward an inch, wondering what Gillian had said the other night.
"But I think," Eric said, beginning a new train of thought and leaving the rest to Cal's imagination, "that we could be really good together, but I don't know if it's just too soon for her… and I know you two are close. Working together, and everything… so what do you think?"
Cal chewed his bottom lip as he considered his options. The truth. Or a lie. The truth. Or a lie. Truth and lies, truth and lies… it was what it all came down to in the end. If he told Eric that this was none of his business, he was respecting the line, staying out of Foster's private life, minding his own business. And if he didn't…
"I think," he said at last, "that it'd be a big mistake to ask her out. She's got a lot of unresolved feelings for Alec… I don't know how much she's confided in you about this, but… it's all very complicated. You'd be better off staying friends. Or, better yet, going back to the way things were before. You know, long distance friends, communicating via cheery little emails every six months."
The disappointment in Eric's face was obvious. Cal ploughed on. "I mean, if there are feelings there, but nothing can ever come of it, it's better just to remove the temptation, right? A starving man doesn't want to look at a feast he'll never be able to eat, you know what I mean?"
Eric nodded. "I –"
He was interrupted by a voice from the doorway. "Cal." How she'd opened the door so quietly that neither of them had heard her Cal didn't know, nor how they hadn't caught her out of the corner of their eyes, but there she was. Standing with her hands on her hips, her lips pressed together, her voice cold and distinctly un-Gillian like. "Can I have a word?"
Eric had excused himself, leaving Cal and Gillian alone in the room, but Cal had no desire to play out the scene in a room anyone could walk into at any point. "My office?" he suggested, and she'd nodded, her face still flooded with anger. How much did she hear? He silently berated himself for his actions as they walked down the corridor without speaking, her feet landing on the floor a little heavier than usual. They reached his office, and he gallantly held the door for her, following behind. As soon as he was inside and had shut the door, she spun on her heel to face him.
"You had no right to say those things to Eric." Her eyes were ablaze with fury, and Cal tried to ignore the fact that it made her look even sexier.
"I was just trying to help."
"You weren't helping, Cal, you were interfering. My relationship with Eric –"
"So you do have a relationship then?" He cut her off mid sentence, and she scowled even more.
"A relationship doesn't just mean dating and sex, Cal. You and I have a relationship, and we're not…" she broke off, looking flustered. "The point is, it's none of your business. How Eric feels about me, how I feel – or don't – about him…" She prattled on, listing reasons why she disapproved of Cal's interfering, but his mind kept replaying her last comment – how I feel – or don't – about him… or don't… or don't…
"Cal?" Irritation still laced her voice, and Cal snapped back to attention.
"Sorry love… you were saying."
"You don't even care, do you? It doesn't even bother you when you overstep the line."
"The line." Cal shook his head. "The bloody line, Foster. Haven't we spent enough time respecting the line?"
"If you want a free pass to analyse, judge and interfere with every aspect of my life, Cal, you're out of luck. Doing what we do, seeing what we see – you know it only works because we respect each other's privacy. And if you stop doing that, I don't know how this partnership is going to continue." There, she'd said it. She felt a lump in her throat as the words spilled out of her mouth, and she saw Cal's mouth drop open slightly in surprise.
"Foster…"
"Don't." She shook her head. "Just don't, Cal." She turned to walk away.
"Listen!" He was raising his voice now, and Gillian flinched slightly, but stopped walking, and turned back towards him slightly.
"If I want to be a part of every aspect of your life, it's not because I want to judge or control you or whatever the bloody hell you just said. It's because I care about you. Okay? I care about you," he said more softly, and walked towards her. Gently placing his thumb under her chin, he tilted her face up until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. "I care about you," he repeated. "You want the truth from me, Foster? The truth I've tried to keep hidden? Well here it is. I never thought Alec was good enough for you. It made me sick every time I saw him lie to you. I was glad when you told me you were divorcing him. Long overdue, in my opinion. I was jealous when I saw Eric come waltzing in here with grand ideas of sweeping you off your feet now you're a single woman again, because…" he paused slightly, his eyes still locked on hers, "because if anyone should sweep you off your feet, Foster, it should be me. It should be me."
The sound of Gillian's shallow breathing and her heart thumping in her chest was all she could hear; the rest of the room was deathly silent. Slowly, Cal drew his hands away from her face, and took a step back.
Gillian felt herself trembling and willed it to stop, but couldn't. She dragged her eyes away from Cal, feeling disconcerted after seeing such raw emotion there. She could read Cal, most of the time – they were close enough for him to be honest with her about a number of things, and he'd spoken openly about his feelings after his divorce on a few occasions. But this… this was different. The Cal she knew was gone, and in his place stood someone showing the one thing Gillian had never seen Cal Lightman display before – vulnerability.
The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and Gillian knew Cal was waiting for her to break it, but she had no idea what to say.
"Cal," she began, shaking her head slightly, and he got the message.
"I see. Too much of a risk, eh? Not prepared to jeopardise what we have for what we could have. Even if…"
Now it was her turn to interrupt. "What do you want me to say, Cal? You dump all this on me out of the blue, and just expect me to throw my arms around you and say 'let's live happily ever after?' You know that can't happen. Weren't you the one who told me there's no such thing as happy endings?"
"Doesn't mean we can't be happy, love," he said quietly. "If you recall, I also said I believed in happiness, and love."
"Are you saying you love me?"
Her words hung in the air as Cal considered his response. Never before had the word yes seemed so woefully inadequate.
"Foster," he began, still using her last name, just as he'd done since they met, "you're the person who makes me smile if I'm fed up, you're the person I want to talk to if I've got a problem, you're the first person I want to share good news with. You're the only person who can make me see sense sometimes, you're the only person who understands me without me having to explain things. You're the only person who can slurp an orange slushie in my office without it irritating the hell out of me. You're my business partner, you're my best friend and you're the only person besides my daughter that I know I couldn't live without. So yes, Foster, I love you. Always have. Always will."
Swallowing, Gillian tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.
"I can't do this, Cal." She shook her head fiercely, trying to ignore the voice in her head that was screaming at her to hug him, kiss him, tell him she loved him – anything to stop the look of hurt that was etched across his face. "I think… I think when this case is wrapped up, we should dissolve our partnership. I think… I think it's for the best."
The sting of rejection on his face nearly broke her heart, and she bit her lip as she resumed her walk towards the door.
"You don't mean that."
She didn't reply, just continued walking slowly towards the door, trying to quell the queasiness that she felt at what she was walking away from.
"You don't mean that," he repeated. "Foster." She ignored him, and reached for the door handle. "Foster." She twisted the handle, wrenching it towards her. This was her last chance, to go back, to undo what she'd just said and done. "Gillian." Too late. She'd gone.