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Wednesday, August 13, 2014

After their meeting with Mariela, Olivia and Nick had been able to put the pieces together quickly. By the time they went looking for the waitress, they had a pretty good idea of what had happened. Finding a woman named Kyle in the Olive Garden wasn't hard. As soon as a coworker pointed her out, though, she saw the two detectives and ran through the kitchen, and attempted to flee out the back door into the building's service hallway. Nick caught up to her and cuffed her, and took her to the 1-6, where she had an interesting story to tell.

She'd met Dan Adamson in a bar she'd worked at, and they'd begun an affair almost immediately. He had garnered sympathy with tales of Helena's cruelty, portraying her as a "heartless, blood-sucking lawyer." Kyle had swallowed it-it certainly jibed with the opinion most people had of lawyers in general, and the view many New Yorkers had of Helena Adamson, in particular. Dan had easily convinced his young paramour that in order to be with her, he'd have to leave his marriage both childless and penniless, and while the young woman wasn't too upset about the former-she didn't want to play stepmom, if she were being honest-she was less than pleased about the latter.

Kyle Cunningham fell for Adamson's stories hook, line and sinker. She didn't know Helena, and didn't want to, based on what she'd been told. She did, however, want Dan to leave his wife, so she convinced him to apply for divorce financing through Helena's own firm; when his application was denied, Dan seemed despondent and wanted to break it off with Kyle while he figured things out.

"But you weren't having it?" Nick asked.

"Hell, no," Kyle barked. "Look, I'm a waitress. I'm gonna be a waitress, you know? I'm not getting my MBA or some bullshit. But Dan...he's nice, and he's gonna be a professor. That's a good life. His wife owed him, and we could have had a nice house and some extra money. So one night in bed I say to him, 'You're crying about money and you have two Rolexes.' They were real, too, but he's like, 'Those were gifts.' Like that meant they weren't worth money."

"Who were the Rolexes from?" Olivia asked.

"One was from the woman who treated him like shit. Their first anniversary, or something. But the other one was from his grandfather, a gift for graduating from Walton."

"Wharton?" Nick was sure the guy had gone to business school at Penn, but Kyle was insulted by his question.

"Walton, Wharton, what-the-fuck-ever. Like I care. All I know is the guy is sitting on like 40 grand in watches and telling me he can't afford to get divorced. Watches tell time, you know? Like 20 bucks. I finally convinced him the one from that bitch wasn't worth holding onto, but…"

"But?"

"He kept saying there was no point. He knew what he'd get for it, and unless he sold both it wouldn't be enough for the kind of lawyer he'd need. He said he couldn't do that, so he'd figure something out."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?" Olivia asked pointedly.

"He was stubborn," Kyle argued.

"Or he didn't give a shit about you," Benson jabbed.

"What's that supposed to mean, bitch?"

"It means that you were offering a him a solution to his problem and he refused to take it." Olivia leaned down near the woman's ear. "That watch was more valuable to him than you are. You know it's true. I mean, what would you do, Nick? Would you choose a watch over the love of your life?"

"Not me, sarge," Nick answered. "There's a lot of watches."

"Me either," Liv said. "But I guess there's a lot of Kyles, too, huh?"

"Fuck you," the young woman spat, her blonde hair whipping in anger as she twisted her neck to see Olivia. "You don't know. He'd lost everything. That was the only thing he had left that mattered to him."

"Hmmm," Liv said, a single syllable drenched in skepticism. "So what happened."

"Nothing," Kyle said quickly. "He stopped seeing me. He said he had to focus on solving his problem and we'd get back together after his divorce was all worked out."

"Nothing? Bullshit. Something happened. Helena Adamson's dead and you're sitting here. Why are you covering for this douchebag?" Olivia's voice had built in volume and intensity until she finished with a yell, slamming her hand on the table.

Kyle was shocked, and looked bewildered-or tried to.

"He's already flipped on you, Kyle. So fast it made our heads spin."

"You're lying. Maybe I need a lawyer."

"Maybe you do," allowed Nick. "But think carefully. If you are asking for a lawyer, we can't talk to you anymore. Which means you can't tell us your side of the story."

"And if the only side of the story we've got is Dan's, it's not looking too good for you," Olivia explained. "So let me tell you his story, and then let's see if you have anything to add. He said you stole the Rolex Helena gave him, that he didn't realize it was gone until after she was murdered, when you came to his place and told him you'd found a way to solve his problems for the price of one watch, not two."

"Fucking liar," Kyle shouted. "We had a fight. I was pissed that he wouldn't sell the watch, alright, and I said if he had any balls at all he'd figure it out, that he could have her killed for less than he wanted to pay a lawyer. I was just mad, you know, but he got this weird look. He said maybe that wasn't impossible, and did I know anybody."

"And did you?"

"Hell, no. My life's not like that. I'm poor, but I'm not a criminal. I told him he was crazy. But he started talking about this guy I used to work with at the bar, Sergei. 'Maybe Sergei knows someone,' he kept saying. I didn't think he was serious, but the next thing I know, she's dead."

"Kyle, I've got to tell you how this works. When you lie to me about one thing, I think you're lying to me about everything," Olivia said. "See, Sergei said you did get in touch with him, and he did give you a name."

The woman started crying.

"So here's the deal, Kyle. We've picked up Dan-he's in a holding cell now, but he's pointing the finger at you, and he's sure as hell gonna sell that other Rolex now to get a fancy lawyer and save his own ass. We're about to arrest the man you hired, and he'll sell you out, too. You know that. He'll say he never even laid eyes on Dan, and we'll believe him, because it's the truth. You were the go-between, and only you can tell us what we need to know to arrest Dan. You're going down either way-wouldn't it be better to take him with you?"

Olivia could tell the girl was about to break-she looked much younger all of a sudden, scared and overwhelmed. She hadn't been lying about not being a criminal, and she was in way over her poor-but-law-abiding head now. She just needed a little push.

"Come on," Olivia said quietly. She pushed a pen and paper across the table. "Connect the dots for us. It's that easy. That's all you have to do, Kyle."

"I love him," Kyle whimpered.

"He won't visit you in prison."

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she snatched up the pen and started writing. The detail they needed was a simple one-the Rolexes hadn't been at Dan's apartment, so she couldn't have stolen it. He kept them both in a safety deposit box, only wearing them once in a while. She'd gone with him to a Midtown bank to retrieve the one from Helena; he'd handed it over to her and she'd passed it off to the murderer. She had put it on in the vault before the left the bank-it would be visible on her wrist if they examined the surveillance footage from the lobby. When her statement was complete, she was drained. Olivia almost felt bad for her, until she remembered the grisly scene at Helena Adamson's place, and the two kids who were now effectively orphaned because of pride, or greed, or both, and she couldn't resist a final dig.

"Wanna know the worst part, Kyle?" she asked. "They had a prenup. He didn't want you to know it, but he was due a $500,000 payment from Helena when they divorced. He couldn't just be happy with that, though. And now you'll have at least a few years in prison to think about how happy the two of you could have been with half-a-million dollars."

Later that night, they picked up the killer at a club in the East Village. He was a bouncer-an enormous guy named Vlad who was built like a Mack truck-and they'd had to surprise him by coming in through the service entrance in the alley and coming out the front door, guns raised, to arrest him. It was quick, though, and they too him in without incident. Olivia was waiting by the unmarked to head back to the 1-6, while Nick bundled the handcuffed Hercules in to the backseat, when something caught her eye in a nearby bar. It was Dev Patel-she was sure of it-and he wasn't alone. He didn't see her from his seat by the window, but the implications of the company he was keeping were staggering, and her blood ran hot and fast as rage overtook her. She'd put him out of her mind, but she'd never forget what he'd done to Alex. It wasn't until she realized that Nick was already in the car and knocking on the window that she was able to look away.

She got in the car, her fury still readily apparent to Nick, who knew her moods well.

"What's up, Benson?"

"Nothing," she said. "Just drive."

"Nothing, my ass, partner. Tell me."

"When I figure out what the hell it means, I'll tell you, Nick. Until then…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know," she said. "I have no idea what the hell is going on. Let's just get Mount Muscle back there into a cell and get him booked. I've had enough for one day."

Thursday, August 14, 2014

4:15 p.m.

Cragen answered the phone in his office and was surprised to find himself speaking to Sean Cullen, the Special Agent in Charge of the San Francisco division field office. He wanted the supervising detectives in St. Louis, San Francisco and New York to have a case meeting in his office on Golden Gate avenue.

"Well, Sergeant Benson has a few cases going on, but I'm sure we can arrange something," Cragen said. "How about the middle of next week?" He had taken the call in his office with no chance to even summon Liv in to join him.

"No, Captain. Tomorrow morning, 0800."

"Agent Cullen, you've got to be kidding. It's past 1600 hours here in New York right now, and Sergeant Benson is standing 30 feet away from me at her desk, doing the job the NYPD pays her for. She has no bag packed and no plane ticket, and you're six hours away by plane. I didn't major in math, but I'm pretty sure that means she needed to leave five minutes ago."

Cullen wasn't in a joking mood. "I wouldn't call if it weren't urgent," he said. "I've already cleared it with your chain of command, Captain Cragen, so this isn't really a request. If they'd been a little quicker about responding to me, I could have let you know this sooner, but it is what it is. There are still flights out tonight, and she has a ticket on one of them. Have her call me when she gets to town, no matter what time it is." The call ended with a click.

Cragen stuck his head out the door-Liv was on the phone and Nick was nowhere to be seen. "Tell Benson I need to see her when she gets off the phone," he told Fin. "You come with her."

Less than ten minutes later, Olivia was in Cragen's office, an incredulous look on her face.

"San Francisco?" Olivia couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yep," Cragen confirmed. "Too many similarities to ignore."

"The duty belt?" Fin asked.

"No, not this time," the captain replied.

"Then it's not our guy," Olivia contended.

"Not so fast. There's other stuff. I'd fill you in, but your flight leaves in 90 minutes, Benson. Leave right now, grab some clothes, and we might manage to get you there on time with lights and sirens all the way," he said. "Tutuola's your ride to LaGuardia, and Mackey's meeting you in San Francisco."

"Captain…."

"No, Benson. Forget it. Nothing to say-Chief of D's and everyone above him okayed it. You want to complain? Tell Cullen," he said. "He wants you to call him as soon as you land anyway."

They didn't quite need to light 'em up, but the trip to the airport wasn't quick. Olivia didn't mind. They'd stopped by her apartment to pick up her clothes-she'd had enough time to call Alex and leave a scribbled note of apology next to the coffeepot, but now she had a chance to talk to Fin and she planned to use it.

She told him about seeing Dev Patel.

"With who?" Fin asked.

Benson explained the situation.

"Maybe it was a coincidence, Liv," he offered.

"No, trust me, Fin. It wasn't a chance meeting. They were deep in conversation and I need to know why. I need you to see what you can find out. I'm sorry-I know you're off this weekend."

"You know I've got your back, baby. I'll poke around a bit, see what I can find out. No worries."

"I need you to have Alex's back, Fin. Something's not right, and she has no idea. I'm sure of it."

"I got her and I got you, too. Go catch us a serial killer, sarge. I'll take care of this."