Chapter 14

A few weeks later, the puking incident almost forgotten between them, Olivia, Munch and Elliot were knee deep in boxes of papers. They were trying to sort through the financials of their latest case and were getting nowhere.

"Hey, so this guy Tyrell has a recurrent payment made to someone or something called EHM, $215 a month. That mean anything to you?" Elliot asked vaguely to the room.

"Mmm, don't think so," Munch replied. Olivia just shook her head, not looking up from the stack of receipts.

Olivia spoke up "Hey, check this out. It's a tax form, filed 4 years ago, Tyrell claimed a deduction for some property he bought in New Jersey. And he claimed a deduction that year and each of" (she shuffled through the papers) "the next four years for a property management firm called EHM."

Munch said "So, it's a tax shelter? It's an investment? What's he got on that land?"

Elliot rubbed his face. "Answers probably somewhere in that stack," he gestured towards the 5 file boxes still stacked against the wall.

"This is making my head hurt. I'm grabbing a burger. You guys want?" Munch tossed the stack of papers down.

"Yeah, and a soda. Thanks," Olivia replied, still not looking up.

"Stabler? You in?" Munch asked.

"Yeah, please," Elliot replied.

Munch hadn't left the room, still standing at the door expectantly. Elliot sighed and pulled out his wallet, shoving a twenty at Munch with a smirk. "Hey," Munch replied, "I can't buy you all lunch every day."

Olivia smirked at him. "Hang on a sec before you go. So what are we looking for exactly? This guy's playpen? A crime scene before he drops the victim somewhere in the city? It's kind of far away…" She sat down at the computer and did a web search for the address and the company. Poking and clicking away, a few seconds later she said "It looks like EHM is a front, doesn't exist any where on the internet. That doesn't happen in this day and age. Okay, here we go. Looks like the property is mostly undeveloped, only one building. Looks like a warehouse of some sort."

Munch and Elliot were staring at her with vacant faces. "What? Everything's on satellite these days. Even Jersey."

Elliot jumped in, "Maybe there's something interesting in that warehouse. Maybe we need to investigate his suspicious tax shelters…"

He stood and pushed back his chair, reaching for his coat as Olivia did the same. Passing John still standing in the doorway, he grabbed the $20 bill out of his hand. "We'll grab a sandwich for the road."

The drive took longer than they anticipated, getting stuck on some back roads and having to back track after missing the address the first time. Finally finding the address, they found no gate, no fence, just an old building with no unlocked doors and windows 20 feet up. "This is turning out to be a total bust of a field trip."

"I dunno, maybe not." Elliot replied. "Someone's coming." She followed his gaze to where a green pick-up was heading up the driveway.

They stepped out into the driveway to make sure they didn't take anyone by surprise. The truck pulled up and stopped as it neared the building and a middle aged Latino man climbed out.

The detectives showed there badges and asked him if he was the property manager. He was as helpful as possible in his accented English as he told them he was hired by the property management company. He came by once a week to check up on the building, cut down the weeds, etc. He didn't have a key and never went inside, and he didn't know if the property management had a key. He said he never saw anyone there, but never spent more than 15 minutes there. He'd never seen anyone come or go, though onetime he thought he saw a white van parked in the long driveway. They thanked him for his help and walked back down the road towards their sedan.

"Still mostly a total bust…" Olivia said bitterly. "And now we're stuck in Northern New Jersey trying to get into the city at rush hour…"

"Ah, come on, Liv, it's not so bad." He rolled down his window and stuck his elbow out as they pulled out onto the road. "Enjoy the drive through the country."

"Hey, I was raised in Manhattan and not even I consider NEW JERSEY the COUNTRY. Just highways and traffic between me and my island."

"Ah, such a spoil sport. We'll take the northern route – avoid the GW at 5pm."

"Don't try and make this sound fun. You're ruining my pity party." Olivia glared and him and settled down into the seat, but she did roll down her window and appreciate the breeze.

She wouldn't have admitted it to Elliot, but Olivia was almost enjoying the drive, the warm sun, the breeze and the tree lined highway weren't something you got in Manhattan. Unconsciously watching the signs for the multitudes of towns they were passing, something struck her as familiar and she straightened up in her seat. She waited for the next sign. There is was again Woodlake 5 miles ahead. She pulled out her phone and started thumbing though old emails. Not finding what she was looking for, she searched her bag, finally finding a piece of paper in her wallet with an address on it.

"Lose something?" Elliot asked, watching his partner fumbling frantically.

"No…" she said slowly. "Hey, Elliot, I need a favor."

"Sure. What do you need?"

She bit the corner of her lip. "I need you to trust me. It won't take more than 15, 20 minutes max."

"Liv?..." he said warningly.

"Trust me, Elliot? Please? Just take this next exit. This one, here…" She pointed at the exit quickly coming up.

He sighed and turned the car toward the exit. She was punching numbers into her phone frantically. "Okay, take a right."

"Olivia, where are we going?"

"Left here."

"Olivia…."

"Now turn right here." He turned the car onto a sleepy street with big trees, she was leaning almost out the window looking for an address. Finally finding it, she said "Pull over here."

He pulled the car to the curb and she unbuckled her belt. He put a hand on her arm. "Olivia, what in hell are we doing?"

"Just wait here, Elliot. I'll be right back." She went to get out of the car.

He got out as well and caught up to her on the sidewalk. Pulling her to a stop he said, "Come on, Liv. I trusted you, now you trust me. Who lives here?" He gestured to the small bungalow with some shabby flowers in the front yard.

"Wait in the car, El, you don't need to come with me."

"No way, you drag me on a wild goose chase through small town New Jersey and you want me to wait in the car?" Elliot argued back.

Knowing that Elliot Stabler was way to stubborn to give him when she gave him that look, she said "Fine. You can come, but don't say ANYTHING."

"Okay, fine. But who are we visiting?" he asked.

"Angela Marsden."

"Who?….Angela Marsden?" he squinted one eyebrow. "Marsden? Simon Marsden's mother?"

"You can come, you stand there and you don't say a word, understand?" she glared back at him. He nodded his acknowledgement and followed her up the steps onto the small porch.

A middle-aged black woman answered their knock. "Can I help you?"

"Hi. I'm looking for Angela, is she here?" Olivia asked.

The older woman gave her the once over. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Um, my name is Olivia. I just wanted to ask her some questions…" Olivia stumbled a little bit. She didn't want to come here as a cop, but she didn't really have a good reason to talk her way inside. Something about her must have made the woman trust her, because she opened the door and allowed them to enter.

"You can ask all you want, but you probably won't get many answers." She gestured to the living room where an old woman sat on the couch, a blanket covering her lap. She was looking at a crossword puzzle and had a pencil, but the puzzle was blank. "She has her lucid moments, but they are far and few between. Alzheimer's. Early onset." The woman shook her head. "Poor thing."

She stepped into the room. "Angie, you have some visitors."

The woman looked up. "Visitors? How lovely! Hazel, will you get us some tea? Can't have visitors without tea in the afternoon. Coffee in the morning, but tea in the afternoon." She set her puzzle down on her lap. "Now, do I know you?"

"No, Mrs. Marsden, you don't." Olivia answered.

"Well, that's good. Never can tell these days…." She looked behind Olivia as if she just noticed Elliot.

"Simon! What are you doing here? You were just here yesterday? Two visits in two days! What a lucky mother…" She turned to Olivia. "He's a good boy, my Simon."

"Ah.." At a loss for words, not sure if she should disabuse the woman of her mistake or not, she bit the corner of her lip again.

"Oh, don't be nervous, honey." She patted Olivia on her knee.

"I'm not, I mean…How did you know I was nervous."

Angela smiled at her. "You were biting your lip, just the corner. It's a nervous habit….don't worry, you can train yourself out of it if you try. Now, you look familiar to me…." She looked up at Elliot again. "Simon, doesn't she look familiar? Who does she look like?"

Unknowingly, Olivia was chewing on her lip again. Angela clapped her hands. "Annette! That's it! You look just like Annette. Wait, ARE you Annette? No…can't be. Annette was old… Simon! Grab me the photo album from the cabinet. The red one." Elliot stood there, true to his word, he hadn't said anything since they arrived.

"Go on, do as I say, Simon. The red one on the top shelf." Hazel heard the end of the conversation and as she set down the teapot and cups said "I'll get it Angie, what do you need?"

"The photo album, red one, top shelf of the cabinet in the living room. This lady looks just like Annette and I want to show her."

"Angela, I wanted to ask you about your husband." Olivia spoke, she wanted to make the most of her time here.

"Frankie? What do you want to know about Frankie. He was a good man, my Frankie."

"No, not Frank. Your first husband. Joseph." Olivia pressured.

"Oh, Joey…he's been gone for a long time. A real long time. Since Simon was a little boy. Do you even remember him, Simon? Simon, you are looking old. How old are you now? Didn't you just turn 33?"

Olivia heard Elliot clearing his throat awkwardly behind her.

"Tell me about Joseph, Angie." Olivia asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"Ah, Joe. He was all-right. He gave me my Simon, but we were so young, we practically had to grow up together…." She interrupted herself when Hazel came back in with the photo album.

"What's this, Hazel? I haven't looked at this old book in years."

"The book, Angie, you wanted to look up a photo." Hazel poured the tea after handing Angela the book. The older woman was flipping through the pages with a bland look on her face.

"Who ARE all these people? I don't recognize them." She looked up again at Olivia. "Ah, Annette, right, I was going to show you the photo I like of you. It's a great one." She flipped through the book until she found an old black and white photo taking up half the page.

She gently took the photo out of the book, gently taking each corner out of the tabs and handed it to her.

Olivia looked at the photo. It was old and showed a dark haired woman reclining while sitting on the front porch of a house. There was a toddler in the corner of the photo, but the focus was on the woman. Her dark hair was cut short and curled around her face. She had sunglasses pushed up onto her forehead and she was reading a paperback book and smiling to herself. Her long legs stretched out down the steps, wearing pants, but the style and the haircut led Olivia to believe the photo was taken sometime in the 30s or maybe 40s. She saw a penciled date in the corner. 1939.

Elliot looked over her shoulder, stunned. The woman in the photo was a dead-ringer for Olivia Benson.

Stunned, Olivia forgot about what she had wanted to know about Joseph Bartoletti. "Angie, who is this woman?"

"What woman?" she asked, sipping her tea and then adding another sugar cube.

"The woman in this photo? Annette?" Olivia asked, her voice tight.

"Oh, that? That's Annette. She was my Mother-In-Law. My Joe's mother. She looks like you, don't you think?"

Olivia's heart was in her throat. She was grasping at straws, inwardly begging this woman's lucidity to last just a little bit longer.

"Can you….can you tell me about her?" Olivia asked.

"Annette was…she was a firecracker, you know. Came from Italy, right off the boat, you know? Her and her husband, I think his name was Vincent, he died pretty quick and I got the feeling she ran the show anyway. I didn't meet her til I met Joe in the 60s, but she was always doing her own thing. She wore pants you know. Scandalous, apparently in the 30s! She was always reading these trashy novels, used to find them stashed all over the house when she came to visit. She ran a boarding house after her husband died and then worked in the school cafeteria to support them. She had a temper. She was quiet, but you didn't want to make her angry and she'd snap and yell." Angie shook her head. "She chewed her lip when she was nervous too." She closed the photo album and drank her tea.

"Now, did you really want to sell me magazines? I don't really want any magazines. I have plenty to read."

"No, Angie, we were here to ask about Joe." Olivia said, her heart sinking.

"Joe?" Angela asked. "Who's Joe?"

"Your husband, Joe?" Olivia asked again, her voice tight.

"No, my husband was Frank. Hazel! Hazel! I want to take a nap. Hazel!"

Olivia looked up at Hazel, a little panicked. "Okay, one second Angie, okay?" she patted her on the leg and walked Olivia and Elliot to the door, the photo still in her hand.

"Sorry, I think that's all you'll get out of her. Did you get what you needed?"

Olivia looked down at the photo. "No, not really, but it's okay…" She dug a business card out of her car and wrote her cell phone number on the back. "Is it okay if I borrow this photo? I promise I'll return it. I just want to make a copy. Here's my card, you can reach me anytime." She handed Hazel the card.

"You're a cop? You didn't tell me you were a cop," she said, slightly accusingly.

"I..I am, a detective, but I wasn't here as a cop, I was just here as me. But you know how to reach me if anything…I promise I'll return the photo in the mail within the week" Olivia said.

Hazel tilted her head. "I shouldn't, but go ahead. You look too much like that lady for it to be a coincidence….You'll be back. Have a good day now." She closed the door behind them.

Standing on the porch, Olivia was still looking down at the woman in the photo. She had her same eyes, her same mouth, the same wrinkle in her forehead. It was the first time she had ever seen any family resemblance in any photograph. Her mother's family were all blond and light-eyed. Italy. Her father's family had come from Italy.

"Olivia…" Elliot began.

"Don't say anything, Elliot. Please, just don't…" she said in a pained, quiet voice. She turned quickly and jogged down the stairs.

Climbing into the sedan, neither of them had said a word. As Elliot pulled the car back onto the road, the shadows a little longer than before, Olivia said "Thank you for humoring me, El. Sorry about all that, I shouldn't have dragged you into all that. Please don't say anything to the gu…"

"Hey, Liv, it's fine. I won't say anything. But, that's quite a picture, Liv…"

"Yeah…isn't it?" She smiled softly. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it again. "I…I never saw a picture where I looked like ANYONE in my family. It was as if I fell out of left field. Now, I know where I came from, but I also known how much I inherited from him." Her voice almost broke.

"No, Liv, you know how much you inherited from her. Look at her, she's a knock-out. Sounds like she had quite the attitude too, raised a family on her own, not an easy thing 65 years ago." He looked at his partner, still staring at the photo.

"Always seeing the good side, El. Who knew you had such an optimistic side…"

"Only for you, Liv," he said as he pulled onto the highway and immediately hit the brakes, rush hour had come to them.