A/N: Take notice, this takes place ca. one month later than the previous part. Just so you're not completely confused. =)

…

26nd April 2015

Sunday

Los Angeles

…

What slithers beneath the surface? Part 1

Sharon Raydor tried to stifle a yawn while stumbling half asleep through her apartment. She leaned against her kitchen counter while filling a travel beaker with hot coffee; she hoped it would wash away the drowsiness. It felt like she had only just said goodnight to Andy last night and fallen asleep when Provenza called with the news of a body found on the beach. Andy Flynn had treated her to an elaborate dinner last night, and somehow or other, they had ended up talking into the early hours of the morning. She briefly wondered if Andy was as tired as she felt; he must have gotten even fewer hours of sleep than her. She left a note for Rusty and slipped quietly out of the apartment.

Driving through Los Angeles at 6 am was a treat; no traffic and the city was very peaceful and quiet. It was, however, not what she had planned to do with her Sunday morning. She had wanted to sleep in and enjoy not waking up to an alarm clock. Then she would have lazed around in her pajamas, drinking her favorite tea blend while she would have considered turning breakfast into brunch, and perhaps she would have read a book. So driving to a crime scene at the crack of dawn was less than ideal. Sharon figured she had managed to grab three hours of sleep when her phone had beeped and vibrated on the nightstand with Lieutenant Provenza on the line.

The sky was clear in the horizon through the window shield and the sun rose with a golden glare when Sharon changed direction on her way out of the inner city. It was too early for the sun to generate much warmth, yet Sharon felt it on her skin and smiled; it would be yet another beautiful day for most people in LA.

The beach looked peaceful; the calm ocean lapping away at the sand, sea gulls flying over the water in the early light and crisp fresh air in her lungs through her rolled down window. When her eyes landed on the sight of the crime scene, she sighed; it was not a peaceful sight; the erected tents with the black LAPD logo stark against the white color stood out like molehills on a green field.

The many cruisers with blue lights flashing made it a hazard to drive through to the front of the parking lot. Sharon parked in the back. She belted her trench coat when she stepped out to keep the chilling morning air at bay. She debated whether or not to take her coffee beaker with her and ended up leaving it behind. Who knew what kind of blood bath the scene was going to be?

Navigating through the maze of parked cars, she soon reached the yellow tape cordoning off the area. Sharon flashed her badge at the young uniform standing guard at the tape. The boy lifted the tape for her with a bright 'Morning, Ma'am'. Sharon managed to produce a polite smile in return but only just. She stifled another yawn as she approached the tent.

At this rate, she would be yawning in Chief Taylor's face come midday. She smiled to herself; that would serve him.

Another uniform held the flap of the main white tent aside for her and greeted her with another cheerful 'Ma'am'. Sharon replied politely and wondered where these cheerful uniforms at this hour and at this kind of scene came from? Maybe it was not such a terrible scene. She almost regretted not having brought her coffee.

The glare of the early morning sun disappeared with spots dancing in front of her eyes, and a crowd of LAPD personnel replaced the view of the beach and ocean. SID was in place securing evidence, uniforms guarding the opening, and then there were Sharon's own people in dark suits standing around the body.

Doctor Morales was on scene in a sport jacket and a dark shade of blue pants. Sharon still had the memory of the Doctor locked in heated kissing with Buzz, a month or so back, popping up at the most inopportune of times. Like now. The three of them had come to a silent agreement; Sharon did not mention the Art Gallery and neither did the two men. What Buzz Watson or Doctor Morales did in their spare time, was none of her business.

Morales sat on his haunches with a concentrated, and somewhat excited, look at the dead body. Glancing around, Sharon found everyone looked awake to her dismay. She imagined she looked bleary-eyed herself. At least that was what she had looked like in the mirror in the car even after make-up had erased some of the tired lines.

Mike Tao approached Sharon holding Ray-Ban sun glasses in one hand as he spoke, "Morning, Captain."

Sharon nodded in acknowledgement, "Good morning, Mike."

Mike cleared his throat, "Our victim is Daniel Wilton. His name was sewn on the inside of his jacket and we found a driver's license in a pocket in the jacket that confirms the identity. His wallet was empty, stripped bare. Also we found what we assume is his phone; a new iPhone, cover broken and with no SIM card."

Mike then pointed at the victim's identical Ray-Bans that rested immaculately in the front pocket of the navy blue suit. "Yet his sun glasses are still intact."

Andy Flynn also approached her, dark sun glasses on, his eyes obscured behind the glass. He smiled though; a small curving of his lips that was directed at Sharon, "Morning, Sharon."

Sharon smiled back. Andy was wearing a light grey pinstriped suit, a light rose shirt and a purple tie, the ensemble spotless, he looked handsome. Last night had seen him in jeans, a t-shirt and his leather jacket for the cool air outside. In the back area of Sharon's condominium there was a small trail that led through a park to a lookout. They went there last night after dinner; one of the many reasons Andy hadn't left her house until 2 am.

Andy joined the conversation, a nod at the victim, "The guy is completely dry, not a damn hair out of place. It could be due to lying in the sun all morning, but it doesn't give enough warmth this early for the likelihood of that, and the coast guard says the body was never in the water – so that way, it's our jurisdiction." The last comment was said with an ounce of sarcasm that had Sharon smiling despite the circumstances.

Provenza piped up from behind Andy, "We should have rolled the poor dead guy out into the water, is what Flynn is saying, Captain. That way our Sunday would have been unspoiled."

Andy took off his sun glasses and gave Provenza a pointed look, "All I am saying is that the coast guard was only too happy to be rid of the responsibility. Like usual."

Morales got to his feet and then waved at Kendall to ready the coroner's van before he addressed the group. "I can't determine anything yet, not until I've done a full exam back at the morgue. That said, five minutes in salt water would, without any doubt, have ruined the Ermenegildo Zegna suit Mr. Wilton is wearing, and his skin feels too smooth for someone who drowned in the ocean."

Mike intervened, "Also, there are no tracks that would indicate Mr. Wilton was pushed unto shore from the water. Although a likely killer could have erased such tracks."

Morales nodded and then stated with a smile and a hand wave, "It's all very inconclusive at the moment, Captain."

Sharon nodded in agreement. She took a step closer to the body, her eyes on the features of their victim. Daniel Wilton had a sun roughened tan beneath the navy pinstriped suit, the dark color spotless but for specks of sand. The mint green shirt seemed to be as good as new and without any stains. Danny Wilton had been handsome, his features striking even in death.

"What would you say is the preliminary cause of death, Doctor?" Sharon asked Morales looking up from the victim.

Morales shrugged, "So far it would all be guess work. There is no visible blunt force trauma, no visible wounds but for the nose bleed." Morales pointed at the flakes of dried blood that stained their victim's upper lip and philtrum.

Morales listed off, "Heart attack, overdose, sudden death… your guess, Captain, is as good as mine."

"And time of death?"

"Liver temperature suggests somewhere within 3 to 6 hours ago," Morales answered, "You'll know a more exact time frame when I've examined him more thoroughly."

"Thank you, doctor," Sharon looked around questioningly at her team, "And this is a major crime why exactly?"

Lieutenant Provenza had been short about the facts over the phone. Usually Major Crimes did not roll out to a single unexplained death unless there was a significant factor of suspicion involved. This looked to be something the Hollywood division could handle on their own.

Andy answered her in a gruff tone, "Danny boy here is the nephew of some sheriff's deputy a county over. Once patrol got his name, and someone called someone out of reg, well, you know how it goes when politicians gets involved."

Sharon pursed her lips; now that was more in lieu of something either Taylor or Pope would, without question, hand over to Major Crimes. Politics could make your head spin, even on good days. Sharon had spent enough time navigating through the sea of politics when she had been in Internal Affairs, and it was practically the same playing ground for Major Crimes. Sharon knew how to navigate such cases, even with only three hours of sleep.

Provenza jumped in eagerly, his tone condescending as he explained, "The mighty Chief Taylor was the ass who woke us up, right after he got the call from the Pope I am sure."

Sharon sighed.

Kendall came over with a gurney, the stretcher rolling clumsily on the sand. The two men kneeled by the body, readying it for being moved.

Andy rolled his eyes and blew out a breath of exasperation "Yeah, it might not be our jurisdiction but hell, if Pope says it is, geez – who are we to disagree. Hell, if -,"

"Oh," Doctor Morales gasped from behind Sharon interrupting Andy. The whole team turned around to regard the doctor.

Doctor Morales was once again on his haunches, Kendall by his side. They were in the middle of turning the body. Morales eyes were fastened on the victim's arm and the jacket sleeve that had gotten pushed further up in the process.

"Well, that changes everything, wouldn't you say?" Morales commented as he pushed the sleeve all the way up to the nook of the elbow, revealing what had caught his attention.

Sharon swallowed back a curse.

Guilty VII was tattooed on the victim's wrist. The skin was red and inflamed around the black letters. The familiar tattoo was back.

"Shit," Andy commented with a low sigh as he came to stand next to Sharon, his eyes likewise on the familiar sign.

Provenza groaned, "Not this again."

Sharon ignored both men, the tattoo drawing her attention. She narrowed her eyes and then wondered out loud, "Number seven?" That did not make any sense. Andy gave her a look, immediately catching on to what she meant.

"Where's the sixth victim?" he asked the team, looking around.

Sanchez spoke up from the back, having just come in under the tent, "Not on this beach, that's for sure. Patrol and SID have just finished combing the beach and there was nothing but the usual gum wrappings and used condoms. Daniel Wilton's car is parked in the lot with a parking ticket from yesterday. I'm having it towed back to the garage, and SID will look through it."

It was a somber discovery that made the day seem proportionately longer. Instead of an unexplained death that could have turned out to be accidental, they were looking at the reappearance of a serial killer. It complicated matters, especially since politics would now roll in over it.

A little over an hour after Sharon arrived at the beach, she was making her way to headquarters with Andy in her passenger seat. The man had waved Provenza off as the team decided to go back to the office. Instead he jogged to Sharon's side and joined her with an indecipherable expression and a comment of riding with her. Sharon didn't mind the company.

"So, early wake up call, huh?" Andy commented when Sharon steered out of the parking lot.

She hummed in response, her eyes on her side mirror.

"Wanna stop for coffee on the way?" Andy asked, "I could use some caffeine."

Sharon saw him fiddle with her travel beaker in the cup holder. He threw her a lopsided smile, "Your coffee is all cold, you know," he paused and then asked, "You want it?"

Sharon shook her head and then when Andy took the lid off and drank the rest of her cold coffee, she pursed her lips in amusement.

She overtook a slow BMW, her Hyundai speeding up on the outer lane. She glanced to the side, "We can stop near headquarters and order coffee for the whole team."

Andy yawned before he mumbled a low 'yeah'.

"And maybe we need to order a triple espresso for you?" Sharon said with a smile, glancing his way.

Andy raised an eyebrow, "Do they have a quadruple shot?"

Sharon shook her head, her eyes once again on the road.

"I was literally on the verge of falling asleep when Provenza called. You must not have gotten much sleep either, huh?"

Sharon shook her head slightly, a smile tugging at her lips, "Not really." She did not mention that the little sleep she had gotten, had involved half-lucid dreams about kissing him.

Andy chuckled, "What is it they say about old people and sleep; we need less, right?"

Sharon gave him an arched look, "Are you calling me old?"

"Nope. Not at all," Andy backed off with a low chuckle, "Only talking about myself."

After a long moment of silence, Andy spoke again.

"I had great time last night, you know."

Sharon hummed and gave him another smile; this one warm and welcoming. It was a sentiment he had already shared with her last night before he had bid her goodnight lingering by the front door. She did not mind him saying it again. These small reiterations of gratitude for their friendship were something else. It felt nice to be appreciated and to know he always told her the truth. Well, she smiled to herself, almost always the truth.

Once they were back at headquarters, Sharon parked the car while Andy ordered coffee from their favorite café around the corner. Sharon waited for him outside the café by the curb, her head turned to the still rising sun. She was beginning to feels its warmth, her black trench coat heating up.

"Here, take the red one," Andy said when he joined her, holding a carton cup holder. He nodded to one of the cups on the holder, two of the Styrofoam cups in bright red instead of beige like the others.

Sharon took the red Styrofoam cup and then tried a sip. She smiled at the sweet flavor, "Mocha?"

Andy grinned and explained, "It's going to be a long day, might as well treat ourselves."

Sharon agreed and then, on a second thought, touched his arm as she leaned closer. She was wearing low-heeled boots, so she stood up on tiptoes, her mouth on his cheek near his mouth. This close, his scent was overwhelmingly intoxicating. It was a short, soft peck, her lips lingering a second longer. His aftershave stayed with her as Sharon leaned back and said, "Thank you."

Andy beamed and then pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, the gesture very intimate.

Sharon could feel her cheeks heat up and she took another sip of the mocha flavored coffee, her eyes turned to the sun again.

…