A/N: I thought I'd figured out what this chapter would look like, and then Scotty and Lilly grabbed the wheel and took it in a completely different direction. I'd expect nothing less from them.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Any of these characters. The character of Billy Garrison is inspired by someone from Friday Night Lights. Just to be safe, I don't own that, either.
Chapter Twelve: In a Different Light
Scotty and Lilly began the next day with an interview with Billy Garrison, local car dealer by day, crazed high school football fan by night. As they headed toward the interview room together, Scotty was practically drooling in anticipation. All signs seemed to be pointing to Garrison as the doer, and Scotty was eager to handcuff that smarmy bastard and show him to his luxury box in lockup. But there was more to this than mere thirst for justice. Working with Lilly had always thrilled him, but even more so now, Scotty realized, as he suddenly remembered making her shower that morning a lot more fun than usual. He tried, with moderate success, to suppress the satisfied smile that threatened to engulf his entire face.
"You wanna be Good Cop today, Scotty?" Lilly asked, all business, as they strode toward the interview room. "Seein' as how you're a football fan and all, you'll probably gain his trust."
"I was just thinkin' that," he agreed, then whispered suggestively, with a wicked grin, "Guess that makes you…Bad Cop." He glanced at her and arched a brow, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Valens," she ordered, shooting him a sidelong glare, though she couldn't quite hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. You too, Rush, she added silently, banishing her suddenly lascivious thoughts before they could paint themselves on her face in a crimson blush. "We're at work," she admonished them both, then took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Showtime.
Their suspect, sitting unhappily at the table in the center of the room, glanced up when he heard the door open and saw the two detectives stride in. "How long do you think this is gonna take?" he whined. "We're in the middle of the sale of the century down at the dealership."
Lilly rolled her eyes. "You guys have the sale of the century every other weekend," she pointed out unsympathetically.
Garrison switched tactics. "Either one of you folks lookin' for a new ride?" he asked, a commercial smile painting his face. "Getcha a fantastic deal if you get me outta here."
"We're not here to talk cars, Billy," Scotty began, taking a seat across from the suspect. "We're here to talk about football. Catch the Eagles game on Sunday?" he asked casually, as though they were just two guys sipping beer in a sports bar.
Garrison groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I couldn't believe McNabb threw that last pass. So fuckin' stupid."
"Tell me about it," Scotty sympathized. "What kinda dumbass throws a pass into traffic like that? That damn Patriot coulda caught that pass blindfolded."
Garrison agreed, nodding his head vigorously. "And what about Reid, callin' a draw play on third and twenty? Makes no sense!" The vein in his forehead began to pop as he considered the loss.
Scotty pounded the table in mock frustration. "Man, losin'…I just hate losin'."
"Tell me about it," Garrison agreed bitterly. "Somebody oughta teach that damn fool McNabb about not throwin' so many interceptions."
"Is that what happened that night?" Lilly interjected intensely. Garrison jumped slightly and looked up with a startled expression on his face, as though he'd forgotten she was even there. "You take Brady Thompson aside and try to show him a thing or two about interceptions? Because the game was lost on an interception he threw that ended up scorin' a touchdown."
Scotty glanced up at Lilly in surprise, only to find the barest hint of smug satisfaction twinkling in her eyes. Guess I managed to teach her something about football after all, he mused, the corners of his mouth lifting in a slight grin. Focus, Valens.
"Brady Thompson's interception must have had you pretty steamed," Lilly continued, eyeing Garrison fiercely.
"What? No…no…I--I was fine with that. Kids, ya know…" Garrison said uneasily with a nervous chuckle, as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He glanced over at Scotty, relieved to see what appeared to be a sympathetic look on his face.
Scotty smiled inwardly, and his heart began to race with anticipation. They had this jackass right where they wanted him.
"But Thompson wasn't just a kid," Lilly pressed as she paced back and forth, her voice beginning to rise. "He was your protégé. He was the son you never had. He was living the life you always wanted, the life you dreamed of having, but couldn't. Your team lost the state title game in 1962…the same night you blew your knee out."
Garrison nodded slowly, and Lilly stopped pacing, but didn't let up. Instead, she fixed him with another one of her icy stares. "You never played again, did you?" she asked knowingly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Garrison looked nervously toward Scotty, only to discover that the friendly, sympathetic sparkle he'd seen in the detective's eyes mere moments ago had transformed into a hardened, cynical glare. "No, I--I never did…but…but that don't mean…"
"And then when this cocky son of a bitch comes along, with all the opportunities you never had, and starts blowin' off practices to go hang out with his babymama, when he starts drinkin' and partyin' till all hours of the night, wastin' all that talent…that musta pissed you off," Scotty added, rising from his chair and crossing the table to stand next to Garrison.
"Hell, yeah, it pissed me off," Garrison said, beginning to lose his cool. "I gave that ungrateful bastard a place to live, I gave him a car so he could go to practices, I gave him a job at the dealership…and he repays me by knockin' up that cheerleader bitch and pissin' away the state title!"
"And that was the last straw," Lilly said icily, leaning on the table so she was face-to-face with Garrison. Excitement coursed through her as it always did when she got this close to a confession. He'd taken the bait, now all that was left was for her to slam the trap door shut.
Scotty watched with a surge of pride as Lilly finished Garrison off. "He got lazy, he got indifferent. He took you for granted. He blew you off. He didn't care about you and all you'd done for him. He didn't care about anybody but himself. And that night, once again, he made you a loser," she concluded, in an almost mocking tone.
"I ain't no loser!" Garrison shouted, leaping from his chair, nearly sending it clattering to the floor. "I won that night!"
Hook, line, and sinker. Scotty and Lilly exchanged a satisfied glance as Garrison looked from one detective to the other, realizing that it was too late, he'd said too much, that there was no way out of it now. Sighing in resignation, he sank back into his seat and began to confess. He told them how he'd found Thompson cheating on his son's mother in the press box with another cheerleader, how he'd chased her off, how he and Thompson had fought, screaming at each other until finally, in a fit of rage, he'd shoved the quarterback down the stadium stairs to his death. Lilly wrote out Garrison's confession on a yellow legal pad as he talked, and once he'd signed it, Scotty slapped the handcuffs on Garrison's wrists, escorted him through the squad room, and turned him over to the uniforms for processing.
Elation surged through Scotty's veins as he helped Lilly carry the evidence boxes back down to the warehouse. Getting a confession was always a high, but working together with Lilly, in their new, improved relationship…well, that was even better than he could have possibly imagined. He had no idea why anybody'd ever do drugs. Scotty glanced over at his partner and was rewarded with a dazzling smile. "That was fun," she said lightly.
"We make a great team," Scotty replied with a grin. In their final responsibility to Brady Thompson, they each took a black permanent marker and wrote "CLOSED" on the lid of a box. One more case solved, one less murdering scumbag out on the streets. Scotty knew that the satisfaction he saw radiating from Lilly's face would be mirrored in his own expression. When she'd replaced the cap on the marker and turned to face him, when he saw the joy sparkling in her eyes and that beautiful smile spreading across her face, he felt a wave of love wash over him, making him almost giddy. Before Scotty could stop himself, he'd closed the gap between them, wrapped his arms around Lilly's waist, and captured her lips in a smoldering kiss. Lilly was startled at first, but she quickly yielded to his advances, returning his passion with equal measure. His hands slowly worked their way from her waist to her shoulders, then slipped higher to caress the back of her neck. She moaned softly as the kiss deepened and the world started to disappear...
Reluctantly, they broke apart, far sooner than either of them wanted to, but knowing that there was no way in hell anything they were currently doing qualified as appropriate office behavior. Scotty brushed a wayward lock of blonde hair behind Lilly's ear, gazed tenderly into her sapphire eyes for a moment, and then released her. She stepped back, smiling self-consciously, smoothing her hair with a shaky hand and trying to regain her bearings. "Well, that was…different…" she finally said.
"I kinda liked it," Scotty replied with a grin.
"Me too," Lilly agreed softly, then suddenly got a faraway look in her eyes and seemed to fixate onsomething over his left shoulder. Scotty's blood ran cold as he was visited by a sudden, unwelcome sense of déjà vu.
"You okay, Lil?" he questioned. When she didn't answer, he turned to see what she was staring at, and saw nothing but row upon row of white cardboard boxes, each representing all that remained of a life cut short.
"Lil?" he repeated a little louder, heart racing. He was really starting to get the creeps. Last time someone had looked at something over his shoulder, she'd said something about giants, and it was the beginning of the end. His rational mind knew that Lilly was fine, that there were probably thousands of perfectly reasonable explanations why she was staring at something invisible, but his rational mind was barely treading water in a rising flood of panic.
"It's nothing," she finally answered, blushing slightly.
"You were lookin' at somethin'," Scotty pressed, not sure he even wanted to know what she'd seen.
"Really, Scotty, it's fine," Lilly insisted as she started to walk away.
"Lil, you're...kinda scarin' me," Scotty confessed softly.
Something in his tone burst through Lilly's bubble of self-preservation. She looked into Scotty's dark eyes and saw that the tender warmth of mere moments ago had been quickly replaced by barely concealed fear. The color had drained from his face, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. Oh, God. What had she done? Surely he didn't think…crap. He did.
What she'd seen was an image of Brady Thompson at the end of the row, wearing his letter jacket and tossing a football to himself, thanking her with his eyes for finally bringing his killer to justice. It had unnerved Lilly a little the first few times she'd seen a victim. In time, however, she'd come to accept it as a normal part of the job. Still, though, she'd never told anyone about it, but now, seeing the tortured look in Scotty's eyes, she realized she was going to have to tell him, because he thought she was seeing things…the way Elisa had seen things. Crap.
Taking a deep breath, Lilly began. "It's not…that, Scotty. It's not…like Elisa. I'm fine," she reassured him. "But sometimes, after a case, I…I see…the victim. Maybe it's 'cause I sleep with their pictures by my bed or something, I don't know, or maybe I really am nuts, but…I see 'em. Sometimes it's here, sometimes it's on the street, sometimes it's when I go back to the scene…it's just for a minute… and then they disappear." She sighed shakily and glanced up with a self-conscious smile.
Scotty's panicked expression changed to something she couldn't quite read. "You…see 'em?" he parroted.
"I'm not nuts," Lilly insisted, although the way Scotty was looking at her didn't give her much confidence that he believed her.
"So sometimes you just look up, and they're just…standin' there? Almost like they're…thankin' you? Or somethin'?"
"Yeah." She laughed nervously.
"Oh," he said, realization dawning on him. "Oh…"he repeated, laughing this time, the relief flooding his features. "Well, that…that's nothin'. Sometimes…I see 'em, too," he confessed with a smile.
Lilly glanced up at him in surprise. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Scotty replied. "Not all the time, but…remember when we worked the Vizcaino job? I saw him…and Ana Castilla… after we solved her case. Kinda weird, huh?"
"Maybe not," Lilly mused. "Those cases meant a lot to you."
"Yeah," Scotty agreed simply, the rapid release of tension making him feel slightly shaky.
"Guess you're just better at separating your job from your life than I am," she continued, with a slight smile.
"Or maybe it's 'cause I don't sleep with their pictures by my bed," Scotty teased. He ducked as Lilly playfully swatted him, then put his arm around her shoulders and leaned in for a quick kiss on her cheek.
"I'm sorry I scared you," she said, looking up at him, glad to see the old sparkle returning.
"Nah, it's fine," Scotty answered with a smile. "Just a little paranoid, that's all."
"I see dead people, and you're paranoid," Lilly grinned, as they headed back toward the office. "We do make quite the team."
A/N: True story: As I was putting the finishing touches on this chapter, one of the news headlines on my home page read "Suspect Charged in Killing of Young Football Star."
I have important Real Life things again next week, so I probably won't be able to post until next weekend. Hopefully this will hold you.
