Juliet O'Hara cupped her body tightly into the couch. Her cats streamed around her, mewling, begging, demanding food even though both bowls had recently been filled. Listlessly she let her hand glide out, palm down, to have a soft head push up against her skin in a raptured purr. Aimless she scratched at the white triangle ears poking between her fingers. At her feet, a grey form lobbed its body against her ankle, curling its tail around her calf, only to slink away when she reached down for a pat.
Pulling back into herself, she gazed across the room, eyes fixed somewhere between the potted Jade and the photo of her Academy graduation. From outside, light filtered through her curtains, bringing with it hints of warmth and a bright blue sky. But she remained tucked against her cushions, endless dragging her fingertips across the tiny skull, lifting long strands of fur, feeling the gentle upward bump when she reached the base of the tail, only to start the process all over again.
Numb was a perfect word. It encapsulated in four letters the entirety of her emotions. She hadn't cried, at the time… hadn't screamed… hadn't fainted.
She'd just listened.
"Chief, O'Hara. That call I just received… it was from the morgue. I'd asked them to report back to me immediately if they… if they found evidence…"
"Detective?"
Juliet looked from Lassiter to the Chief, noting the slightly raised tone. Turning back to her partner, she frowned at the uncharacteristic manner in which he was speaking… hushed… halting… almost like he was giving them some really bad… And her breath caught.
"When they examined Lizbeth… they found sem… they found DNA in her body… Spencer's DNA…"
Juliet expelled air forcefully against her palm, wishing she could bring up her hands around her ears, hide away from the news… not hear it… and make it unreal…
"…Chief… Spencer was…"
She pulled her hands back around herself, ignoring the slow tears that cut a path down her face, collecting in cold drops on her chin. The small white cat padded lightly across the back of the couch, butting her head against O'Hara's shoulder with escalating purrs. Ignoring the animal, she shivered with a sudden chill.
"O'Hara, listen… I know it might be hard… but for a while, it might be best for you to not visit Spencer yet… until we see how he's handling this. You know the protocol for victims of rape… you know that sometimes… it's difficult for them to interact with people of the same gender as their attacker…"
She'd been sickened by that… the barest notion that she had anything… anything in common with that monster… even if it was simply genetics…
She jumped when her phone rang. Scrubbing a sleeve across her chin, she rose to answer it.
0o0o0o0o0
The tongue he dragged across his flaking lips felt like a slice of overcooked steak- rubbery and dry. He couldn't yet identify what time it was, either night still, or the room lights had been kept dim. Either way, he was grateful for the darkness… feeling too much exposure in the light. He wasn't hurting either, another point of gratitude. Obviously whatever he was floating on was narcotic-laced.
Something moist and cold pressed against his forehead, and he turned towards the wonderful sensation. Sluggish blinking slowly brought the room into focus… as well as a much sought for face.
"Hey…"
"Hey yourself kid…"
He licked his lips again, closing his eyes once more as the cool moisture moved across the cracked flesh.
"Fraid you're on an IV diet for a while… your throat isn't up to anything solid just yet."
Shawn nodded, not really caring. He hadn't had any kind of appetite for… a while. The cloth lifted away, replaced by something gelatinous being spread across the broken creases, bringing sudden relief. Once his lips had been cared for, he felt a hand brush across his head. He managed not to cringe.
"Think you can handle some ice? It should help for the sore throat."
"It's not that sore right now…" but he accepted the small chips, letting them melt on his tongue before swallowing the sparse liquid. After three more mouthfuls he turned his head, and his father set the cup back on the side table before returning the cold towel to his forehead. Looking up at the older man, he noted how pale his cheeks were.
"You shouldn't be up, you look like you're gonna pass out… which means you'll fall on me… which would hurt."
His father chuckled, leaning back to fold his hands in his lap. "Trust me, the last thing I'm going to do is pass out just because I have this tiny little hole in my side."
The smile faded quickly though, and Shawn stared up at the ceiling as the air seemed to transform into wet sand. "Don't ask me to talk about it."
He heard a sigh… a tiny creak from the joints of the wheelchair.
"I won't make you do what you don't want to kid. But I won't let you swallow this up either. And don't think you were alone in this…"
…but I was alone…
"I just… need a little time… please…"
…she hurt me dad… but you can't ever know how much…
He could see the faint nod from the side of the bed. "Okay. But just don't shut me out…"
Shawn nodded… but didn't speak. The longer he was awake… the more it dug into him… the more he started thinking… remembering…
"…can… can you ask the nurse if… you know, my side is really starting to hurt…"
"I'll get the doctor, he's just down the hall."
"Kay…"
In fifteen minutes, he was sleeping again.
0o0o0o0o0
Officer Jud Smart couldn't keep the smile from his face. For the past week, he'd been very aware of the drama surrounding the psychic guy… from the disappearance of him and his father- a guy who clearly got the short end of the stick for a son- all the way to his rescue and hospitalization. And as always, whenever anything regarding the psychic occurred at the station, he was on top of it.
Yesterday, Head Pain Carlton Lassiter had gone to the hospital to get a statement from the young psychic. Upon returning to the precinct later that afternoon, his face had looked odd… even paler than normal. Immediately Smart had perked up. Something most definitely was going on. Trailing around behind a Head detective, even within the safety of the station, wasn't going to go unnoticed long. Still, Smart picked up enough from a few overheard and hushed conversations to ascertain that more than stabbing and a gunshot wound had occurred to these two men.
Earlier today, Lassiter had gone back to the hospital, but was gone an even shorter length of time. He'd looked clearly rattled dropping down at his desk, briefcase thudding to the floor with a clunk of hard leather. Though, rattled for Head Pain amounted to his tie being rumpled and his hair slightly lifted from combing his fingers through it.
He needed to see that statement. So far, though, it hadn't gone to the records room- meaning something was missing. And considering Head Pain's near manic insistence on perfection in his reports, it would remain with him until it was completed. But something about this was too… juicy… to wait for. Somehow, Smart had to get a peek into that briefcase.
Now, picking the lock wouldn't be too complicated. Locks were designed to keep criminals out, not cops. The thing is, Smart considered himself a very good cop. Ordinarily, he'd never even float the idea of sneaking a peek at another officer's property. Everything was above board, everything was dealt with professionally, cleanly, and by the book.
And then he encountered Shawn Spencer.
God did that asshole piss him off. How many years had Smart sweated at the academy- walk a beat- dodge bullets, even take one in the elbow once. How many times had he watched others get bumped up the ladder ahead of him? Hell, even that lout Buzz McNabb got included on more cases. And he wanted to be a detective? What a joke! But when that little shit Spencer started getting all the cherries…
As far as he was concerned, whatever had happened to put the guy in the hospital had been a true blessing. And somehow, he had to figure out what it was.
0o0o0o0o0
Smart got his chance sooner than expected.
The call came in two hours after Head Pain had returned to the station. His partner was there by this point as well. Juliet O'Hara, now if that wasn't a piece of ass he wouldn't mind taking for a spin. How HP got saddled with not one, but two completely fuckable babes was beyond him. And as if there wasn't some real undercover stuff happening between these two. It was a well known fact around the station that Lass had bagged his previous partner, not that Smart could blame the guy in the least. He'd have willingly taken seconds on that one too. But if anything, Juliet was even more of a lay… just the thought of that sweat-soaked blonde hair spread out below him…
Shaken out of his musings, Smart watched the Chief stride from her office and gesture to her two detectives. In the pretense of going for a cup of coffee, Smart 'accidentally' dropped the files in his hands, right outside the Chief's door, but far enough back to not be seen.
"…ple homicide. I've already got two units en-route, but I need you there as well. Report back as soon as you reach the scene."
"Understood Chief."
"Oh, and Carlton?"
O'Hara paused near the door, and Smart risked being caught eaves-dropping to strain for the softer spoken words.
"When you stopped by the hospital today… did you…?"
"No, not yet. He was unconscious. I'll go by there tonight though and take care of it."
Take care of what?
"That's fine. I want to… I need to see it once it's complete."
"Yes Chief."
Time to go. Gripping the files in his hands, Smart stood smoothly and turned just as the two detectives exited the office.
Ignoring him, no surprise there, the detectives paused next to Lassiter's desk to grab his briefcase and jacket before walking swiftly for the door. Following in their wake, Smart had no trouble keeping track of them as they exited out the building and headed for the parking lot.
As for trailing them to the scene? Well, a deep red car did stand out quite nicely amongst the other traffic.
0o0o0o0o0
He waited for fifteen minutes until he was certain the detectives were completely engaged.
Breaking into the briefcase would be simple. Breaking into HP's car… that would require a little more finesse. Ever since his vehicle had been stolen, and Smart had laughed his ass off about that, Lass had upgraded the security on his car. Still, it was just a matter of knowing where to… got it! Sliding into a vehicle that smelled of old coffee and stale pastries, he leaned down between the seats and snagged the handle of the briefcase. It took three minutes to massage it open.
Flipping through the files within, bypassing a set of unsigned divorce papers, a few extra clips, and- oddly- a photo of a small girl and a yellow dog, he finally found the right file.
Flipping over the front cover, eyes widened in appreciation of the stark photos of Spencer's injuries. His face, actually, wasn't so bad. His side was worse, and leg was a carved roast. But the shot of his groin made pinch his knees together in discomfort.
Certainly not in sympathy though.
Then he started reading the statement.
Good God in heaven…
Q. What happened after your father was shot.
A. She [Lizbeth Garfield took off her pants and underwear. She kicked me in the leg and said, 'where are you trying to go? Don't tell me this has gotten old for you, I thought you enjoyed playing the bitch.' She then kicked me in the side and restrained my right wrist in one of the straps from the table. When she turned away, I tried to break free. She caught me, and pistol whipped me across my cheek. While I was woozy, she tied my wrists together with rope.
Q. What happened then.
A. She sat on my lap and said, 'I did that for Lizbeth to get vengeance for her. She'll have that once daddy's cold. So as far as I'm concerned, I've done my part. And now it's my turn to do what pleases me.'
Then she said, 'it won't be so bad sweetheart, deep down I know you've been wanting this, you proved that twice. Why else would you be so responsive.' Then, she licked my chest and said, 'do you think you can scream for me this time? Do you think about me when I'm gone, wanting me, lusting for me.' After that she reached down and grabbed my crotch. I asked her to stop, I told her it hurt. She pulled down my pants, and told me it would fade.
Scanning through the so-called rape, Smart flipped another page until he came to the end.
He studied the words in shock for a few minutes, astounded, before becoming aware of his surroundings once again. He couldn't believe his luck! This was the one, he could feel it!
He found he was chuckling softly even as he laid the pages out and readied his camera phone.
