Thank you so much for the reviews! Keep it up, guys, I love your input. Don't worry, the reunion between our lovely ladies will be really soon…by Chapter 30 I plan to reunite them, if not sooner. By the way, for those of you who haven't seen the movie 'Avatar' yet, go see it!!! Best freaking movie ever. After you see it, our world looks so non colorful. LOL, enjoy. I love you guys.
Cragen was waiting for Elliot and Olivia as they traipsed in, clutching identical coffee mugs. "We got a call from Brevet Investments," he informed them solemnly. "A woman was found dead with signs of sexual assault was found in a storage room by several employees. It was violent." He paused. "I've already called John and Fin; they're heading there as soon as they're finished dropping Travis Park off at lockup. I need you guys down there, to talk to the ME, and to begin the preliminary investigation." Cragen's concerned eyes lingered on Olivia, as they always did, before he disappeared into his office, the door rattling shut.
Elliot turned to Olivia. "I'll drive," he stated, putting a brotherly arm around Olivia. "You okay? You look spacey."
She shrugged, inexpressively trying to come across as nonchalant. Like Elliot didn't already have enough on his place without having to worry about her. "I'm fine. I just had a really weird dream last night."
"Yeah?" His lip cricked up.
She rolled her eyes, allowing a little smile to flash across her lips. "Absolutely not the same kind of dream you were thinking of."
…
Brevet Investments wasn't hard to find, a prominent building that Elliot navigated easily. They walked beside each other, striding in to find Assistant ME Fielding already observing the body, while another low ranking officer photographed the body under his scrutiny. Olivia went over to him, trying to maintain calm while gazing at the victim, still beautiful even in death.
"He really did a number on her," Fielding commented. Elliot walked over to him to join Olivia.
"Elena Brevet, 27. Owns Brevet Investments with her husband. Raped and beaten, and then her throat was cut."
Elliot looked darkly at the woman's wounds. "Slashed her up pretty good."
"17 deep incisions, to her torso and breasts, pre-mortem," the ME elaborated, gesturing to the cuts, evident against the deathly translucence of her skin.
"Sounds like a sexual sadist," Olivia remarked. "Time of death?"
The ME pondered this. "She's in full rigor. Heat was turned down over the weekend. So I'd say no less than 48 hours."
Olivia, as always, kept her emotions in check as they hit her, full force, every time she saw a woman so full of life lying empty of it before her. As always, she felt a feral twinge of rage at whoever had brutally assaulted Elena, and she clenched her nails against the flesh of her palms.
"That fits the witness statements." They all turned to see Fin striding powerfully forward with several officers behind him, following in that puppy dog manner of new blood. "Victim was last seen Friday night."
"By who?" Olivia asked.
"Her secretary, Patty Kerner."
"They got any surveillance down there?" Elliot broke in.
"Cameras are downstairs in the lobby. None on this floor. Munch is looking at the tapes right now." Fin turned to who Olivia assumed was Patty, a petite, attractive young woman whose eyes were still distorted with tears. "Detectives Benson and Stabler are gonna talk to you."
Olivia smiled kindly at the young woman. "Hi." She pulled on a pair of elastic forensic gloves, a ritual she'd gotten used to eons ago. "Can you take us to Elena's office?" she requested gently to Patty, who looked shaken enough as it was.
Patty nodded slightly. "It's right down the hall," she pointed, leading them.
"What kind of investments did your boss manage?" Olivia asked her lightly. This woman was their initial link to finding the bastard who'd killed Elena, and they needed answers as soon as possible. Elliot trailed next to her.
"A private hedge fund. 700 million in assets."
Barely containing a low whistle, Elliot asked, "How's business?"
"Last year they posted 20 percent returns," she replied as they all entered Elena Brevet's office. It was stylish, simplistic – typical, nothing out of the ordinary there.
"That's 140 million profit. Pretty impressive," Elliot commented.
Olivia lifted a framed picture off of the sleek desk. "Is this the husband?"
Patty assented. "Jason. Real style selection couple."
"Tell us about Friday night." The two detectives listened attentively, ready to write down anything they might need.
"Um, Elena was supposed to go to Miami for a client's party, but she had to finish the quarterly reports. Jason flew without her at six o' clock."
"What time did you leave?" Olivia asked the young woman.
"Around eight. She was still working, so I – I offered to stay, but she told me to go home."
"Her husband still in Miami?" Elliot asked Patty.
She reached for a scheduling book. "Let me check. He was booked to come back last night." She suddenly began to shake. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice quavering. "He doesn't know…"
"We'll take care of that," Elliot assured her, attempting a soothing tone. He nodded to Olivia, motioning for her to follow.
"Thank you for speaking with us," Olivia said softly. Patty nodded, her cheeks shimmering with tears. Her face was broken, tortured by what she'd seen. It was a look Olivia had seen before, once, in a different woman's eyes. After seeing Tim Donovan get blown to pieces, it was the same look she'd seen in her haunted eyes…
"Liv?" Elliot called, and with a final look at Patty Kerner, she stepped out to follow El to Elena and Jason Brevet's house, washing away the memories as soon as they'd arose in her thoughts.
…
Olivia and Elliot slid out of their seats, opening the doors to Elliot's car. "There's no missing person's report on Elena Brevet," she pointed out to Elliot, voicing an anomaly she'd realized since finding out Elena Brevet was married. "Strange that the husband wouldn't file one."
Elliot shrugged. "Marriage isn't perfect," he reminded her, and she smiled sadly, as Elliot was absolutely one to know. "Jason could've pulled an OJ. Then flew to Miami to set up his alibi."
"It's hard to believe that the husband would torture her like that," Olivia observed skeptically.
"Rage makes people do crazy things."
They approached the steps, nearly tripping on a neatly stacked heap of papers on the stoop.
"Weekend paper's still here," Elliot observed. "Maybe he stayed in Miami." He realized the door wasn't locked, and whistled to get Olivia's attention. She looked up at him, her sidebangs falling in front of her questioning eyes.
"Door's open?" she said in disbelief, peering in.
They decidedly walked in quietly, both on guard. Olivia could feel the hairs at the back of her neck prickling at the tension in the air. The house was oddly quite empty, and the air felt cold and still. No one seemed to be at home.
"Mr. Brevet, police," Olivia called, keeping the tremor out of her voice.
"Luggage is here," Elliot noted, examining the bags by the door.
"Hello? Anybody home?"
She looked at Elliot, who cocked his head towards the living room. "Liv," he said quietly, motioning with an incline of his head.
She followed his line of vision to see the back of a man sitting in a straight-backed chair. Jason Brevet?
"Mr. Brevet?" Olivia called out to him, her fingers resting lightly on her gun belt. There was no response, not even the slightest indication that the man in the chair had heard them.
They approached the man slowly, circling around to face him forward. Olivia immediately wished that she hadn't…
The man lying in front of them was indeed Jason Brevet, or was. His once handsome face was bloodied, the eyeballs popping out of his skull, bloodshot and haunted. Stab wounds were scattered all over his body, leaving the blood to leach freely from his veins. His formerly expensive looking shirt was torn roughly open, and his wrists were bound so tightly to the arms of a chair that they were bleeding and raw.
"Tortured like his wife," Elliot managed to say, staring in disgust at the handiwork of their perp. Olivia looked away from Jason Brevet's horrified expression, boring into her eyes. She wondered if he'd known about his wife before he'd died, or if he was the first. She wondered how it would feel to die knowing your wife was already dead. She wondered if that made it any easier.
…
Nearly a thousand miles away, Emily Hadley sat in her empty room and looked longingly at the photograph in her hand. It was the only thing she had that reminded her of the past she'd never wanted to forget, the one memento Hammond had allowed her when she'd moved. In the picture, a beautiful, expressive woman with wide dark eyes smiled sweetly, her lips parted as she began to speak. It'd been taken in an expensive penthouse apartment, on one night that Emily couldn't have forgotten. She traced the familiar lines of the woman's face, the graceful smile, and a tear found its way down her cheek.
Oh, Liv, she thought. I miss you so much.