Trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the murder room Brenda and Sharon walked to electronics. Entering the room she paused, caught by surprise that all three in the room were speaking Spanish.
"Uh hey chief. Captain Raydor, ma'am." Sanchez stood as the two ladies entered the room.
"Detective Sanchez, we are here for an update. How goes the translation?" Brenda asked.
Fiona stood alongside Julio, "I have two thirds of the recording translated ma'am. I anticipate we will be complete on Monday."
Brenda's smile was tight, she hated being called ma'am.
"I'm Capt Raydor. I don't think we have met before. How long have you been with the department?" Sharon may be Brenda's friend but that didn't mean she had forgotten their first meeting and Brenda's insistence she be address by her rank. Sharon thought it an indication of her stressful situation that she didn't correct the woman.
Julio answered, "She's not Capt. This is Chief Warrant Officer Fiona Hurley, US Army. We didn't have any Arabic translators available and the chief … uh Chief Johnson, needed this done as soon as possible. And the chief's… Hurley's… nephew was a witness to the shooting. Lucky coincidence."
"Oh my yes it was. He's alright though, your nephew?"
"Yes ma'am. He's doing well thank you."
"So you speak Arabic and Spanish?" Sharon asked.
"Yes ma'am. I was raised here. It feels good to speak it again, I've been out of the country for some time, I was getting rusty."
Brenda was over her huff about the ma'am thing quickly. As a military brat she understood it was a sign of respect. All the red tape Julio had spoken of made sense to her now.
Fiona had Buzz re-rack a portion of the video she believed was significant and walked them through what sent up the red flag for her. Chief Hurley's credentials left no room for doubt, this was not a hate crime but it was a crime, very possibly a murder.
Brenda cocked her head and looked at Fiona, "What exactly do you do for the Army?"
"Intel, ma'am." The one word answer delivered a not so subtle warning. There would be no further questions.
Brenda didn't want to wait until Monday to have the rest of the footage translated, she wanted it now.
"I really need that translation. Isn't there any way it could be done today? Maybe if I talk to your commanding officer…"
Before Fiona could say a word Julio said, "No chief. I'm sorry but that isn't possible. The LAPD had to agree to certain criteria before the Army would allow Chief Hurley to assist us."
"Oh, shoot. I really need this." She clenched her fists and made a face. Brenda hated being told no.
"Sorry chief." He shrugged.
"We'll let you get back to work then. It was nice meeting you chief." Sharon said as she moved to the door.
"Yes, yes of course we'll get out of your hair. Thank yew, so much for your help. Bye now."
"Ma'am." Fiona said with a respectful nod to both ladies.
Julio checked his watch. "We have two hours left."
"You know you don't have to be so strict with the time. I can work longer."
"No, you can't." Julio's tone indicated there would be no further discussion on the subject.
Buzz focused on the equipment in front of him, hoping Detective Sanchez didn't see his grin. Fiona's annoyed exhale had him smiling wider.
/
Brenda walked to the break room too preoccupied thinking about the case to pay attention to the small jab of pain in her abdomen. Absently she rubbed her stomach and continued down the corridor. She retrieved a bottle of water and was about to return to her office when a powerful cramp gripped her stomach taking her breath away. Grateful for the chair nearby she dropped onto it desperate to catch her breath.
She was still for several minute, waiting, breathing and waiting. Standing slowly Brenda stood holding the chair, testing to be sure her legs would hold her. She relaxed, ran her hand over her stomach and thought to herself, "I'll have to ask Sharon about that." The pain forgotten Brenda returned to the murder room.
Flynn didn't look up as she walked past his desk on the way to her office. It was all she could do not to stop and apologize to him. She kept a tight grip on her bag for fear she would reach out just to touch his shoulder as she walked by.
Brenda knew she was thinking like a teenager desperate for the boy she had a crush on to like her. Blaming it on her hormones didn't change the fact that last night had been ungodly long and horribly lonely. How quickly she had gotten used to their nightly phone calls. Even when there were only a few minutes to spare, those calls had become her life line. A life line that she alone was responsible for severing and setting herself adrift.
/
Andy didn't have to look up to know Brenda was in the murder room. He knew the sound of her footsteps, the swish of her dress and the subtle scent of her favorite shampoo. He didn't look up, couldn't look up, for fear he would blurt out the question that was racing through his brain like hamster in a wheel, did you mean any of it?
As bad as his heart felt, shouldn't he be bleeding? If he looked at his chest shouldn't there be a gaping hole where his heart had been sliced to pieces before it was ripped from his body?
He wasn't a green kid reeling over his first love. He was a grown man that had had his heart broken and done his fair share of breaking a few hearts as well. But this time things were different, the pain was so much…. More. Maybe this is what losing real love feels like and he would have felt the same with the others if he had been sober? There are times being sober sucks.