Chapter 84: Looked Like the Woman
Gus disappeared into the stack of boxes and files, trying to find some connection between the cases. Hawkes and Lindsay were busy sorting through the evidence, running much of it again and working up statistical geographic profiles.
She was getting beyond frustrated and starving when Flack called to let her know he had just finished questioning Kevin Carter's other wife with Mac.
"What do you mean other wife?" Gus said, fighting with her dollar and the vending machine, "stupid, piece of shit!"
"Having two wives, yeah, pretty much," Flack shot back, giving Gus another glimpse of hope that maybe he wasn't completely doomed.
"I was talking about the vending machine that won't take my stupid brand new dollar to give me a crappy sandwich so I can go back to the stack of boxes and conjure up some nonexistent connection in these cases. But I do agree that Kevin Carter is at the very least an idiot. Most men can't handle one wife let alone two."
"Why don't you take a break and we can grab a couple of dogs? I gotta wait on an elimination sample from wife number two and I have a feeling if I don't make myself scarce, Daddino is going to start grilling me."
Gus picked up on the desperation in his voice, causing her to immediately quit fighting with the machine. "While I should probably let him, considering you gave me a freaking heart attack the other night, I would much rather grab a hot link, I'll be right down."
They walked around the block, at first engrossed in their food, Gus getting as much mustard on herself as she consumed.
"Maybe we should sit before I have to end up giving you the Heimlich," Flack suggested as she attempted to wipe the offending condiment away.
Sitting on a bench, Gus wondered what to say, hating the silence and tension between them, unaware that Flack was thinking the same thing.
He wanted to reach out to her, to wipe the mustard from her cheek, fold her into him and have her tell him everything was going to be okay. Except he didn't, he kept his hands clasped between his legs, knowing that she would give him the peace he sought, but sure he did not deserve it.
"I still have mustard on my face, don't I?" Gus asked, catching Flack staring at her. He nodded, gesturing to her cheek, which she wiped at vigorously. "I didn't mean to make things rough with your neighbors, Don, I just...I was worried."
"Everyone really needs to stop worrying about me, I'm not the only person to ever shoot someone in the line of duty, ya know." Flack brushed her off.
"Look, I know everyone is on your back and you wish they would all just go the hell away, and eventually you are going to get your wish, Don, you are going to drive everyone out of your life. Except me, I'm not going anywhere, so get over it. I know you have to deal with things in your own time and in your own way, I just want you to be able to come back from the edge you are standing on."
"I'm not suicidal, if that's what you mean," Flack looked at her angrily.
Gus reached for his arm, not letting him brush her off. "That isn't what I am saying, I'm...look I know all about being broken, and as I said, we are partners and I will cover for you, but it is a lot easier for me to do that if I at least know you are alive. It isn't keeping tabs on you or checking up on you. Have I ever judged you?" She stopped talking, looking at him, waiting for an answer.
Flack knew she was stubborn enough to sit there all day. He also knew that she hadn't ever judged him, and she was the one person on this planet who did have his back, unconditionally. "No, you haven't, yet."
"Why the hell would I start now? You think I want to get partnered with some old should be retired lug or someone who thinks it okay to play grab ass with me? I am trying my damnedest to make sure we both stay in the field and alive. In case you forgot, I know how much it sucks to have your badge taken away from you for an extended period, I don't suggest you try it."
"Fine, I'll check in with you," Flack replied, resignedly.
Gus wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. "Just remember I have my ways of tracking you down, I am a damn good detective, you know." She raised her eyebrows at him.
Flack looked at her, brow furrowing. "You didn't have Adam put a tracker in my phone, did you, Gus?"
"Not yet, but I am still considering it. Just keep your head up, Don, or at least give me a heads up," she said, standing to answer her buzzing phone.
"Looks like Hakwes has something for me, and Lindsay has something for you."
"Oh goody, more cases," Gus said upon returning to the lab.
"I thought you liked cold cases," Lindsay teased, before heading out with Flack to track down a delivery woman who was connected to at least three of the cases and appeared to be delivery cocaine in her packages.
"From our department, not from every halfwit police force up and down the Eastern seaboard," Gus grumbled, wandering over to where Hawkes was running a variety of statistical programs.
"Math, never was my strong suit, not even stats," Gus said as Hawkes tried to explain what he was doing.
He smiled at her, "and how is the behavioral profile coming?"
"Don't give me that math is smarter than you smile, Sheldon, I know it is. I can't seem to get a trace on this woman, except it appears she is a very prolific assassin or the most bizarre serial killer ever. Extrapolating what we do know about those two things, and yes I know that is based on math, I would guess she is between 25-35. I figure she holds some sort of flexible job given the geographic spread, she is probably well educated and given that she hasn't raised any suspicions, she is most likely well groomed, reserved and soft spoken. You aren't going to find her at a woo girl bar any time soon."
"Nice, add to that European descent, brown hair and eyes, average height and weight from her DNA profile and we have narrowed it down to only a few million people."
Gus sighed until Hawkes pointed her attention back to his screen, "but we do have her most probable place of residence."
She gave him a look to show she wasn't impressed, "hopefully Lindsay and Flack will give us more to go on."
Gus was a little surprised when Lindsay paged her down to the interview room a bit later. She and Mac were staring through the window at Stella and Flack who were questioning Marcia Vasquez, the delivery woman. The woman was belligerent and shouting she wasn't giving them anything.
Stella immediately retorted with, "we got your DNA from your fingerprint card and that connects you to a dozen murders and puts you in the Carter's apartment."
"I don't know no Carters, only thing I know is you're a damn coward," Marcia spat towards Flack, who shook his head and stormed out. He gave not a backward glance to the trio gaping at him.
Mac narrowed his eyes at Lindsay. "What the hell happened out there?"
"Nobody got hurt," Lindsay pleaded, looking back and forth between Mac and Gus. Mac sighed, "that's not the answer I was looking for."
Lindsay looked at Gus in a way that made the woman's stomach twist. While she didn't know what had happened, she had a feeling Lindsay was about to sell Flack up the river.
Lindsay explained how Marcia had ran and pulled a knife on Flack. "He froze, Mac, he couldn't pull the trigger, she could have easily killed him. I had to tackle and cuff her, otherwise..."
Gus looked at Lindsay, wounded that her friend would betray Flack and started to move toward the door to question him.
Mac stopped her, holding the door shut with his palm. "I keep giving you chances with Flack, Augusta, and I am starting to regret that. Stay here." Gus gave a small grunt, but moved away from the door.
"Really, Linds?" she snarled as soon as Mac was gone, "it is a bad thing to not try resolve things peacefully, we should just all start shooting first and asking questions later?"
Lindsay held up her hand, "don't Gus, don't say anything else, you'll just regret it later. You didn't see him, you didn't see his face, it was like I was looking through him. Flack should probably be dead right now!"
Gus stormed out to the pit in time to hear the tail end of Mac's conversation with Flack. "I wish that was true, if it wasn't for Lindsay saving your ass today, we might be having this conversation in an emergency room or not at all."
"Unless you want to make it official, I got nothing else to say," Flack retorted, causing Mac to walk away with an icy stare at Gus.
She knew she would hear it from him later, but at least he was heading back towards the interview observation room at the moment.
Gus approached Flack but he waved her off, "not now, please, Gus." His pleading tone was enough to keep her it bay.
She wanted so much to tell him how much she loved him and that is why she was so distressed about his reaction, but she knew he wouldn't hear it. "Fine, but, just call me later if you need to, please?"
He nodded as she headed back to observation.
"Take a look at Marcia, what do you see?" Mac said when she came back in, Lindsay giving her a sideways glance.
"She is way more nervous about those photographs than anything else," Gus replied after watching the delivery woman for a long while as Stella kept pressing her.
"Exactly what I was thinking, behavioral cues indicate Marcia Vazquez is responsible for the deaths of the three men we know she delivered cocaine to, but it doesn't appear as though she was involved in any other of the cases."
"What about the DNA?" Lindsay asked, perplexed.
"Hawkes is running her delivery route information now, maybe he can shed some light on the situation." Gus was about to head back to the pit to check on Flack, but Mac motioned her to follow.
Hawkes wasn't able to give them any clarity. "I have been over her route and logs several times, unless she has figured out how to be in two places at once, Marcia could not have been responsible for the other eighteen cases."
"Back to square one," Lindsay sighed.
Gus was about to say something when she noticed Mac doing his hundred yard stare again. "Mac is doing his House, MD thing again," she sighed. Lindsay and Sheldon turned to stare at her. "I'm serious, y'all, he has figured something out.
The trio followed after him, catching him tell Stella to stop Sinclair's press conference naming Marcia Vazquez as the one woman murder spree. "Do whatever you have to do, Stella, we were wrong."
"Glad I am not Stella," Lindsay quipped. "For once, so am I," Gus agreed.
Chapter 85: Lived Long Enough
By the time the press conference occurred, stating the factory that produced the cotton swabs used by labs across the northeast had inadvertently contaminated crime scenes due to worker negligence, Gus found herself in a rapidly emptying pit.
Flack had disappeared at some point while she was engrossed in her work. She sighed, wondering what mental and emotional state he was in.
She debated on whether she should call him, when his number showed up on her phone screen. "Speak of the devil, sugar," she said, more relieved that she cared to admit that he had called, "what's up?"
"Ya said to call if I needed to, so..." Flack trailed off, his words slurred and heavy, clearly several drinks in.
"Where y'at, Don?" she sighed, already reaching for her bag.
She paid the taxi as it pulled up in front of the bar, relieved that for once it wasn't some dingy hole in the wall. It actually was more trendy than anything, and Gus wondered how Flack had chosen it, other than it was a bar and thus had liquor.
She found him perched on a stool, draining a beer, several bottles and empty glasses in front of him. Gus was about to take the seat next to him when some barely dressed 22-year-old sneered at her.
"That was, like, my seat, thank you," she dripped, rolling her eyes at Gus.
"Was being the operative word, sweetie, you weren't occupying it, ergo, free seat," Gus brushed past her.
"Uh," the woman made a snort more belonging to a teenager, "whatever, stupid bitch."
"Really?" Gus said, hooking back her suit jacket to display her badge, "want to try that again?"
The woman wavered slightly before rolling her eyes and turning back to the group of friends several feet from the bar.
"Just making friends where ever you go, huh, sunshine? What was that about southerners being the most hospitable?" Flack remarked with a smirk as she finally slid next to him.
Gus gave her head a small shake and motioned the bartender over, "it is a bar, not a Michelin restaurant. You don't leave anything to mark your spot, its open season."
Flack gave a derisive snort, "she tried to mark her spot."
"Charming," Gus said, curling her lip, "now was there a reason you called me?"
His reply was a wicked grin, his eyes heated enough to let her know exactly what he was thinking.
"Let me catch up first," she sighed, placing her order with the bartender.
A couple of drinks in, Gus decided to approach Flack about his freezing in the field. "Was Lindsay telling the truth?" she asked, finishing her whiskey.
Flack shrugged, "don't know what you are talking about."
"Marcia Vazquez, brandishing a knife at you, you refusing to shoot after disappearing for three days. Any of this ringing a bell?"
"I really would like to know when it became procedure for us to shoot first and ask questions later," Flack glowered.
Gus couldn't help but laugh, cutting it off when she saw how he was looking at her. "Sorry, darling, it's just I said the same thing to Lindsay earlier today when Mac was chewing you a new one."
Flack gave a small dimpled grin back at her. He turned toward her, placing a hand on her thigh, the weight and heat of his palm sending a jolt of electricity through her. "You know what they say about great minds, you want to get out of here?"
Knowing with every bit of brain matter that she should say no, that she needed to stop this, that it wasn't doing either of them any good, Gus still found herself nodding in agreement, easily following him out the door of the bar and into a cab.
Afterward, naked and filled with regret on the floor of his living room, Gus nudged Flack's sleeping form on top of her. He came too, looking at her with glazed eyes. "You leavin'?" he asked sleepily.
Gus wiggled out from beneath him, slipping into her clothes while throwing his at him. "No, get dressed, we are talking."
"Gus, it is," he paused to squint at the clock, "4am, we are not talking, you are going to slip out just like always and try to avoid eye contact with me at work until we have some fight and then you feel bad and meet me in a bar and come back here and...rinse, repeat."
He still slipped into his boxers and undershirt, walking towards the door like he was going to let her out.
Gus stared at him with raised eyebrows, her arms crossed over her chest. She shook her head and sat down heavily on the couch.
"I'm not going anywhere, and yes, we are talking. You froze at work, you could have died, don't you even care?" She would have been more angry if she wasn't so exhausted.
"Maybe I've lived long enough," Flack growled more than he said.
"You can't mean that, Don!" Gus protested, getting up and closing the distance between them.
She tried to grasp on to him, but he pushed her away angrily.
"I don't know what I mean anymore! What I do know is that I am sick and tired of everybody asking me if I am fine and worrying about me. None of you can help me, so what the hell does it matter?" Flack said, his voice cracking.
"How do you know we can't help you if you don't let us I try? How can it not matter that we love you, that I love you? I have lost people, Don, I have done things that I have to live with, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to give up! Please, if you won't talk to me, talk to somebody."
"What some shrink that will take my damn badge, it is all I have left," Flack sneered, more fire in his eyes than Gus had ever seen.
"Then see someone outside the department, see a priest, talk to your father, something! But you can't keep doing this and I can't keep-" Gus protested.
"I told you, you didn't have to do any of it, screw me, cover for me, partner with me, I was fine on my own before you came to town," Flack clenching his fists, anger and pain welling up in him more than he could imagine.
Gus started to back up, not liking what she was seeing unfold before her, not even recognizing the man standing before her. "But you don't have to be on your own, Don," Gus pleaded softly, trying to make eye contact and get him to calm down.
Flack couldn't see her, though, his stare that of the walking dead, the mortally wounded.
"Yes, I do!" he screamed, lashing out at the wall next to her, his fist easily piercing the drywall. He pulled it back, looking at it more in wonder than in agony, his guilt and grief a shield to any pain.
Gus tried to gather herself, despite the hole inches from her head."You think being alone and miserable will fix anything? It won't bring Jess back, it won't bring Cade back, it won't fill that hole in you. I know, I tried, what do you think I have done the past year?" Gus reached for Flack again, not willing to let him go.
"Maybe I am stronger than you, Augusta, ever think of that?" Flack looked at her, his gaze blank again. "You should go, now."
"Don," she implored.
"I'm not asking, Gus, and find yourself another partner, I'm done." He held open the door, finality in his tone and posture, leaving Gus with no argument and feeling more alone than ever.
Gus didn't know what Flack had said to Daddino, all she knew was that when she came back to work, he put her back on cold cases for the entirety of the next rotation, saying Sinclair had ordered it because of the cotton swab debacle.
Flack wouldn't even look at her, and she couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or hate. Maybe she had pushed too hard, trying to get him to talk, trying to get him to admit he was barely hanging on. She found it nearly impossible to concentrate, her emotions frayed nearly beyond repair.
The lab was busy and with an actual flu going around, short-handed, leaving Gus to have to beg for scraps of their time on the cold cases she was trying to sort through.
Her heart broke a little bit more when she saw the look Parker shot at her when he and Flack got called out to a Midtown hotel, but there seemed to be nothing she could do about it.
The only thing that seemed positive in her life currently was that Danny was back on his feet, albeit with a cane, which meant he couldn't run away and hide from her in he lab like everyone else did.
"Broussard, you are killing me," he said when she came up with a box.
"Simple DNA re-runs, Danny, I could do them, a monkey could do them, please?"
"Flack won't like you calling him a monkey," Danny tried to tease, his smile vanishing when it fell flat. "I take it you two are on the outs?" he scratched his neck.
Since the bar shooting he hadn't spoken to Don much, the other man not receptive to his calls outside of work. Then again, he hadn't really been too sociable strapped to the rolling tin can either.
"Pretty sure we have been that for a while, Messer," Gus sighed, "thanks for running these," she said, before walking quickly away.
Gus kept her head down in her cold cases, though she kept one ear out for how Flack was doing. Parker at least kept her somewhat in the loop, until Flack gave him the brush off as well.
"I don't know what to tell you, Princess, he ain't gonna let anybody work with him and I give it three weeks before Tony yanks his badge."
"Thanks, Parker, for at least trying," Gus sighed.
"If I was you, I might suggest you use some of your detective skills on keeping an eye on your boy," Parker said with a warning look.
"I've tried that, he doesn't want anything to do with me either, he made that painfully clear," Gus protested.
Parker shook his head, "he doesn't have to know you are looking out for him, probably better if he doesn't. Think of yourself of his guardian angel."
"That might be more irony than I can take," Gus scoffed, though in the back of her mind, she was thinking Parker was probably on to something.
Thus began her rotation of working cold cases by day and following Flack by night. If he had any idea he was being tailed, he didn't show it.
There were a couple of close calls, but by the time Flack had hit a couple of bars, he was too far gone to notice much of anything.
Gus had to smooth more than a few ruffled feathers, pay off more than a few bartenders and use her powers of persuasion on more than a few of his adoring fans.
She had time for little else, despite a few calls from the rest of the gang all of which she ducked to keep an eye on Flack. She was burning the candle at both ends, hoping and praying she would not get too badly burned...