Disclaimer - Still not mine.
A/N - After a long absence, a flurry of updates from me. However, no promises that I will be updating anytime soon. If I get the ideas though, you should see another chapter in the next couple of days.
It wasn't hard to see why so many women had fallen for Lukas DiBeneditto's charms. He was beautiful. Tall, lean and muscular, in just the right way, Lindsay was sure she would have been drooling over him in better circumstances, and damn the age difference. It was his eyes though, that set him apart. They were dark and captivating; almost otherworldly.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner." He said, so softly she had to strain to hear it.
Flack looked surprised. "That's alright Mr DiBeneditto. Shall we get started?"
"Lukas is fine. What do you need to know?"
"How close were you and Lara?"
A twisted, sad smile flickered at the edge of his mouth. "I wasn't sleeping with her, if that's what you're asking."
"You were close?"
"I loved her."
Lukas began, haltingly, to explain. They had first met each other around three years previously, at a show. It was her first major job, and he was already a rising star. His reputation with women was developing too. The young man admitted he flirted equally with supermodels, checkout girls, fans – everyone. It was just easy for him. Lara, on the other hand, had not been impressed. Aged just fifteen, she had looked at him – Lukas had been trying to persuade her to get another model's number for him – with a mixture of disgust and fascination.
"Noone had spoken to me like that in forever." He said. "Dismissive. She didn't give a damn who I was." The crooked smile reappeared. "I liked that."
She had still been a child, and his interest was exclusively in women, so that first conversation – and those that followed – were on platonic terms. They had met often enough over the following two years that Lukas considered them good friends. Lara had coached him through more than one dubious love affair. For his part, he had passed on whatever wisdom – and rumours – he could about the modelling world.
"We had a good time together. No expectations."
Flack raised an eyebrow. "When did that change?"
"It didn't. Not exactly."
The hotel room was much better than usual. Lara's stock in the modelling world had gone up since they had last met. Lukas settled himself further into the mass of pillows on the luxurious bed and channel-hopped. He settled finally on CNN, idly passing the time till Lara was done in the shower. They were going to indulge in what she called a 'film festival'. Two movies – ones Lara had picked, since she didn't trust his taste – and snacks their agents would go ballistic about. Lukas grinned. It sounded perfect.
"Hey, you're into current affairs now? I'm impressed."
Lukas jumped, his heart thudding against his chest. He scowled at her. She just grinned in reply. He had been lost in thought, and hadn't heard the bathroom door open. The young man looked at his friend, ready with a scathing comment. He froze. Lara had put on a baggy pair of jeans and an old rugby shirt that a friend had sent over from England. She was just combing her wet hair, eyes twinkling with amusement. God, she was beautiful. Lukas tried to swallow. His mouth had gone suddenly dry. The thudding of his heart, which had ceased, started up with a vengeance.
"Hello? Anybody home?"
Lukas could hardly get the words out. "You know you're beautiful, right?"
The question didn't even slow her down. A combination, he supposed, of being used to it, and half-expecting him to hit on her one day.
"Behave, Benny." She said, waving her hairbrush at him.
"I mean it. Really."
The teenager frowned. She pulled her long hair back into a ponytail and sat near Lukas on the bed. Only, if he remembered right, because the chair was on the other side of the room.
"I know you do." She said.
He sat up, trying to make sense of this. She looked away from him sadly.
"But-"
"Lukas, I know you've liked me for a while. Not since we met – that would just be weird. And illegal, probably." She said, trying to lighten the mood. Seeing that it had failed, she sighed. "But for a while."
"I-"
She kissed him then, and Lukas would remember it as a perfect moment. Clarity visited him, and he knew that the constant womanizing he indulged in was not what he really wanted. She sat back, and the soft smile on her beautiful face was worth every moment of uncertainty.
"I love you, Lara." He said, taking her slender hand in his.
"We didn't sleep together. We had our little movie marathon, and I went back to my room."
Flack waited patiently for the young man to continue.
"That was about three weeks before her eighteenth birthday. We called each other every day. Lara seemed to love me as much as I loved her. I stopped with the other women, told them I was off the market. For good."
Lindsay was starting to get an ominous feeling about Lara Williams. Either she was the wonderful young woman so many people swore she had grown into, and she had been exploited by others, or she was the manipulative, opportunistic teenager they were starting to get a better picture of. The route Lukas' story took didn't help that.
It transpired that Lara had slept with him on her eighteenth birthday, and had gratefully received his gift – a ten thousand dollar engagement ring. They had spent a week together before work commitments forced them apart. Lukas had spent some time in LA, before heading back early to surprise Lara with a gift of some signed film stills. He had been shocked to see her at the door of her apartment building, kissing her agent.
"I was – devastated." He said, rubbing bloodshot eyes with his hands. "She called me the next day to see how LA was. Of course, I let rip. Yelled so loud I thought the phone would explode."
"What did she say?" Lindsay asked.
"She said-" he paused, fighting back a flood of tears –"she said that she was sorry, but she loved him. She loved us both. Lara gave me back the ring, and said she would call me when she made a decision."
"Did she?"
"Oh yeah." Lukas said bitterly. "She chose him. Apparently, he was just more – sophisticated."
Despite his obvious anger, Lukas DiBeneditto was not a good suspect. For one thing, his devastation at Lara's death would have been hard to fake. For another, he had an excellent alibi for the time she died. He had been at a fundraiser in Chicago, with a group of other models, all of whom could vouch for him. Lindsay felt for the guy. He could have his pick of women, but the only one he wanted had cruelly rejected him. It was, she supposed, part of the danger of falling in love with someone so young and naïve.
The team was looking even more demoralized than it had before she and Flack had spoken to DiBeneditto. Even the application of vast chocolate chip cookies, baked specially by Louise Richmond (who Lindsay was willing to sponsor for sainthood when she bit into one), had not improved the general mood much. Mac was still holed up in his office, tackling the mother of all paperwork piles. Last seen heading that way, Stella was also MIA. It was, she decided, a good thing they were off the clock.
"I'm going home." Hawkes declared grumpily.
The others watched him go. It was a rare thing to see Sheldon Hawkes in a bad mood. Generally, it was a sign that everyone else was sure to be really temperamental. Sure enough, Stella chose that moment to reappear in a flurry of action. She poured herself some coffee and sat down at the table with a thump, muttering about stubborn men who wouldn't listen.
"Mac's still in his office, then?" Adam said, carefully.
Apparently not carefully enough. The look he got from Stella would have reduced career criminals to a quivering mass of nerves. To his credit, Adam just smiled weakly and went back to staring at the table.
"He's nearly done. Well," she corrected herself, "as done as he's going to get tonight."
"Need a hand talking him out of there?" Danny offered.
She shook her head. "Already got that covered."
Lindsay decided that she didn't want to know – and that she never, ever wanted to get on the wrong side of Stella Bonasera.
"Did-"
"The pictures came from the lab. Mac's going to talk to everyone about it tomorrow."
With a sinking heart, Lindsay realized that someone she worked with had betrayed a young girl's memory. Someone she saw every day thought that a few hundred dollars was a good price for parading grotesque photographs of a girl's death. She shook her head, furious at the idea. By the reactions round the table, everyone else was just as angry.
"He's pretty mad, huh?"
This time, Stella favoured Adam with a weary smile. "That's an understatement. If we weren't still searching for our killer, I think I'd be tempted to call in sick."