Fracture

Chapter 5

Allie felt Hugo's eyes on her as she examined the pictures of her two decedents that they'd plastered across a blank wall in the Medical Examiner's office. The bodies had already been removed for cremation days ago so she had to make do with the dozens of pictures that they'd taken. She tried not to let his pensive stare bother her and instead focused on checking for anything she had missed. Whatever was going on in Hugo's head would come out soon enough.

So Allie went over every bit of their physical evidence with a more critical eye (and with Hugo offering any of his own observations) as she waited. The driver was confirmed to have died from a shot to the neck. As for the passenger, Tristen Nash, she saw two gunshot wounds to the chest with one being the fatal shot that nicked the aorta.

"At least he was dead before they took his head. The opposite would have been a far messier affair," Hugo remarked blandly. It took Allie longer than it should have to realize he was trying to make light of the situation.

Allie gave him a wry smile and then said, "Why take the head at all, though? Seems like a lot of work. Unless you're trying to send a message."

A message to whom? Allie inevitably thought next and stared at the Solrider tattoo on the driver for a long minute. The pictures didn't offer any more clues immediately. The effort she and Chris had put into re-processing the car had only confirmed that the driver had died in the car but not how he'd managed to run that curb without causing physical damage. Nor did it provide any clues to how Tristen Nash, who she was suspecting more and more to be the key to this mystery, got into the vehicle headless after being killed.

With an aggravated groan, she rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She didn't have the scene reconstruction aptitude that Josh did, but where her strengths lay–the corpse examination and site of death–weren't telling her anything either. The lack of sleep probably wasn't helping. To say she was running on fumes was barely even accurate at that point.

Why did the car run on fumes? Because it kept passing gas! Curiously, Allie could hear the corny joke crystal clear in Josh's voice. Yep, getting an average of about four hours of sleep on an uncomfortable couch was doing her no favors. She rubbed at her eyes with one hand as the other groped around blindly for the coffee she'd brought in with her.

"You finished it already, remember?" Hugo's voice made her jump.

Allie blinked around her and spied the cup in the trash bin nearby. "Oh. Right."

When her eyes met Hugo's, he looked concerned. "Allie, is everything okay?"

Why was everyone asking her that? Allie automatically nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"Those bags under your eyes are caused by a dilation of the blood vessels when you don't get enough restorative sleep. It's a good thing you went lighter with the eyeliner today because the natural look draws less attention to them," Hugo said matter-of-factly with a gesture towards Allie's face. From anyone else, it would have sounded rude. Allie knew it was Hugo's oddball, scientific way of telling her that he'd noticed something was off.

A part of her was tempted to talk to him about it. The awkwardness at home had only mounted in the passing days. She and Mark had tried to talk a few times, but if it didn't escalate into a fight it became a cold, strained silence. He claimed that he wanted to work on their relationship and was even willing to go to couples' counseling. But when she'd immediately balked at the idea of needing outside intervention to fix their issues, he'd accused her of making no effort. What had silenced her was that she knew that he was right.

"Why are you even here still, Allie?" Mark had asked in at the stalemate of their last fight, his tone a mix of exhaustion and exasperation.

Allie hadn't answered, unsure of what to say. The question and the subsequent lack of clear answers had not allowed her a full night's worth of rest. She still cared about him, and the fact that she'd hurt him wore on her. Then it made her angry because he had no right to demand anything of her when this discord had all started with him not respecting her boundaries in the first place. What was so hard about staying in your own lane? But the longer their conflict dragged on, the more she suspected that it had just been the catalyst for a lot of things that had been building up under the surface.

"...Allie?"

Allie shook her head a little to dispel the unpleasant memory. The story was too long and dramatic, and she was too tired to rehash it. What would talking about it solve anyway?

"Just working a lot. Weekends can't come fast enough, you know?" Even to hear ears it was a lame and weak reply. It wasn't entirely untrue, though. She was on-call that particular weekend so it would give her an excuse to be out of the house without rousing more ire from Mark. She didn't normally use the on-call bunks at the Lab, but the thought of being out of the house and away from the maelstrom of negativity had been the only thing that kept her going.

She sighed wearily. I'm just delaying the inevitable.

"Thanks for your time, Hugo. I needed the second set of eyes," Allie said and began taking the photos down. Hugo looked like he might have been about to say something profound, but the chime of someone running their badge at the reader interrupted them. The double doors automatically parted for one of the junior coroners to wheel in a fresh body.

"No rest for the weary," Allie couldn't help but to remark. She silently thanked the coroner for her timing. When Hugo looked as if he might continue with their conversation anyway, she quickly asked the new arrival, "Where's this from?"

"Folsom's scene at the MGM Grand. Female with her throat slashed and some very heavy internal bleeding," The coroner, Sheena, replied. "Where do you want her, Doc?"

At the mention of her partner, Allie perked up and immediately looked past Sheena to see if Josh was trailing in after her. Sheena noticed her look. "Just me and this lady, I'm afraid. Folsom and Park were still processing the room when I left. It was…bloody. The only witness was a poor kid. Can you imagine? A luxury suite to host a councilman's party, and the only person to see something was a kid."

Allie's sluggish brain made a valiant effort to piece this information together and what stood out about it. The keywords gave her all the explanation that she needed as to why Max had abruptly reassigned Josh from their case. At the mention of a child being the only witness made a pang of sympathy beat through her. She made a note to check in on Josh later; he took cases involving children the worst, and yet there was no one on their team that handled them better.

"I'll leave you to it," Allie said to Hugo, who looked surprised at her words. Normally, fresh bodies fascinated her, and she would often stick around at any opportunity to watch the initial examination–even on cases that were not her own. Today, she just wanted something to stop the pounding behind her eyes and to find some quiet, dark corner to hide from the world and her problems. Just for a bit.

As she gathered the rest of the photos and tucked them into her bag, she felt the way Hugo continued to study her. His concern made her feel marginally less alone, but she was resolute in keeping her problems to herself. She didn't expect Hugo to stop her before she left.

"When my first marriage was ending, it took me a while to realize how hard it was to let go. We weren't even happy anymore, but something kept us together and kept us trying right until it crashed and burned," he said. The understanding she saw in his eyes made something in her crack a little.

Allie fought the instinct to deny and redirect, to run and hide. Instead, she thought over his words and then asked in a quiet voice. "How did you know when to let go?"

Hugo's half-smile was rueful but kind. "I didn't. I was young, dumb, and stubborn. In retrospect, I only regret that I wasted so much time trying to convince myself that my marriage ending didn't mean that I'd failed in some way. Things just don't work out sometimes." He paused and added meaningfully. "I think you'll do better."

She looked away as the gentleness in his voice made her eyes burn. "Thanks, Hugo."

It was Friday and past the end of her shift. Normally, Fridays were Allie's favorite time of the week when it happened to fall on her last work day of the week. She and Josh usually met up before their shift's end and spent time updating their cases and filing any last reports or addendums to give their Monday a clean slate. Their team used the time to socialize and decompress, always hoping (mostly in vain) that the good people of Las Vegas would behave themselves over the weekend. Unfortunately, she quickly discovered that the rest of Days was still on site at the MGM Grand and would probably be there for several more hours.

She nodded a greeting at two of the newer criminalists from Swing as they passed her in the hallway. She saw the Swing shift supervisor already setting up in the bullpen for their team's daily roll call briefing. The hours on Days were much more preferable, but she'd worked so many doubles in her career that she sometimes felt like she was practically on Swing. She wondered if people on Nights felt the same way about their shift. It was tempting to stay and join Swing's briefing. She was on-call for the weekend and needed to be aware of current cases after all…

No. Stop stalling, Al. You know what you need to do. Allie stopped by the restroom to splash some cold water onto her face. She stared into the mirror and winced at how drained and worn she looked from the stress and lack of sleep. It was time to put an end to this. Right then.

The drive to Mark's house felt longer somehow. The anxiety of what was to come sent adrenaline spiking through her, chasing away the week's worth of fatigue for the moment. She hit traffic on I-215 and unconsciously drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, trying to keep her mind clear and focused on what she needed to do. A part of her wanted to run, but the other part of her was determined and, just maybe, at peace with her decision.

Mark was already home when she finally pulled into the driveway. She spotted him through the window pacing and looking as tense as she felt. It struck her suddenly that lately, he always seemed tense and unhappy. Even when they were trying to be civil with one another, she couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed or openly smiled when it was just the two of them. Allie watched him pace, muttering to himself, and knew without a doubt that she was doing the right thing. For all his faults, Mark was a good man and deserved better.

He froze when she walked through the front door. Their eyes met for several long seconds before Allie broke the silence. "Hi."

"Hey," Mark said, swallowing. "We should talk."

Allie stepped fully inside and closed the door behind her. "Yes. We should."

They didn't fight. There were no raised voices and no unnecessarily hurtful attacks. Maybe they'd spent the week sniping at each other so much that there weren't any more hurtful words to say. They were two consenting adults who had started this road together and had come to an impasse where the road went in separate directions. Allie let him vent when he needed and didn't interrupt when he listed out all the reasons that this wasn't working, how he was no longer satisfied with the partner that he'd thought at one point that he would spend the rest of his life with.

She agreed with most of it, even though from her perspective, some of her many faults and failings were nothing new and only a problem now that they weren't getting along. It still stung to hear someone she cared about point out the things that she was insecure about, but Allie tried to take the blows in stride. When it was her turn, she simply said that she was sorry and that as much as she'd wanted for it to work out, her feelings for him weren't as deep as they should have been.

"Why'd you agree to move in?" he asked.

Allie shrugged, fiddling restlessly with a tear in the couch cushion. She'd pulled her feet up onto the couch and tucked her knees against her chest in the corner where she sat against the armrest. "I thought it would change once we lived together. With time. I just…maybe it was all too fast. Mark, believe me when I say I wanted it to work."

He nodded at this, but his eyes were so sad. "Did you ever love me?"

"Of course I love you. Just…just–" Allie struggled to find the words, unable to say the cliche not in love line, but he seemed to understand anyway and fell silent. Tears sprang into her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mark."

"Yeah, I know. Me too." There wasn't any anger in his voice, just disappointment and a deep weariness. They shared a moment of silence that was charged but not ice cold like it had been over the past few days. Then, he slapped his knees lightly and pushed himself to a standing position. He didn't look at her, instead frowning at something on the far wall. "I think I need to be alone for a bit."

Allie nodded and slowly stood, unsure of what to do next. "I just want to pack some things if that's alright. I can rent an extended stay until I find a place."

At this, Mark did look at her. He was frowning, but she didn't see anger. "Do you have someone you can stay with?"

She shrugged. They both knew that her family wasn't in the equation. Her closest friends were work friends, and that was not an option either. "I'll figure it out."

"Allie…I'm not going to kick you out just like that. Just…you can stay here until you find a place, okay? All I ask is it be within a reasonable time," Mark, ever the sweetheart, sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a plaintive look. "Let's not make this any harder on either of us. If there's someone else..."

"Mark. There's not," Allie shut it down immediately, leaving no room for misunderstanding on that front. Later, when she'd have time to reflect on how things had transpired the way they had, maybe it wouldn't seem so black and white.

He seemed to believe her. "I'm just saying. That's all I ask. While you're getting your stuff sorted out and living here…no guests, okay?"

Allie took a breath and tamped down the urge to argue that there really was no one else. Instead, she nodded. "Fair enough. Thank you."

Mark gave her a single, stiff nod and then slowly drifted out of the living room. Allie let out a shaky sigh and covered her face with her hands. She thought she might have been in shock. Beneath that numb sensation was a rising swell of uncertainty, fear, disbelief, and–above all–relief.

It hit her so abruptly that she felt her knees go weak. She sank back onto the couch with her mind racing on what to do next. Her thoughts were jumbled and confused. A quiet panic was taking hold, demanding in a voice that sounded suspiciously like her father's if she was sure that this was what she wanted to do. Always so impulsive. Foolish, headstrong child-

"I have to get out of here," Allie muttered and leapt to her feet.

She went to the bedroom and found a woefully underused gym duffel bag tucked into the farthest reaches of the closet shelf. Her concentration, already spotty from exhaustion and panic, turned entirely to packing essentials: cash, important personal documents, clothing, toiletries. In the back of her mind, a little voice warned her to be prepared to start over from square one. Mark was being nice now, but what if she came back tomorrow to a new lock on the door?

At least you wouldn't have to explain the key. Allie thought with an ironic tone that sounded too much like Josh for it to have come from any other influence.

She hastily changed into fresh clothing, hooked her fingers into the back of a spare pair of shoes, and hoisted the duffel bag's strap onto one shoulder. Her eyes scanned the room with a terrifying feeling of finality, which was stupid considering they'd just broken up literally about twenty minutes ago. Logically, she knew that she'd be back at some point to get the rest of her belongings, but in that moment, the feeling of things changing and moving too fast rooted her to the spot.

Her eyes fell on a photo of her and Mark taken at the zoo months ago. They'd both been posing in random animal hats–Mark in an elephant while she'd sported a giraffe head. They were both smiling and beaming in the photo, blissfully unaware of what was to come. Allie blinked back a fresh wave of tears that suddenly stung her eyes. There had been so many good times. So why wasn't it enough? What in the world was she doing?

The doubt wasn't enough to talk her out of it. Something deep down, a gut feeling that had steered her right for most of her life, still drove her to turn and leave. She heard Mark moving around somewhere on the other side of the house, probably doing his best to avoid her. Taking this as an act of mercy, Allie grabbed her purse from the couch on the way out and left the house.

To her surprise, in the time she and Mark had been hashing out the end of their relationship, darkness had fallen. In most cities, the evening was when everything shut down and went quiet. In Las Vegas, it was when the city's wildest characters came to life. Allie could already hear a distant, rhythmic thumping as the first of many live shows began at some outdoor venue in the heart of Fremont Street. She briefly entertained the idea of driving around for a bit, but Vegas on Friday night was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

Back to work I go. This must be a record even for me. Allie groaned as it occurred to her how the comical rumors about her secretly living at the Lab were going to fly about like mad once Swing and Nights saw her skulking around there after hours. Josh was never going to let her live this down. But the sad truth was she had nowhere else to go.

She drove back to the Lab in a daze, completely on auto-pilot. The panic had receded and had turned into an interesting dichotomy of self-immolation and self-reassurance. She didn't know which side was right, but there was no going back now.

Even at night, the Las Vegas Crime Lab had a subtle hum of activity. Allie nodded to a few lab techs as she walked past on her way to the room that was tucked in the back of the building close to the locker and shower rooms. The Crime Lab was a 24/7 operation in that all three shifts worked Monday through Fridays with rotating weekends scheduled off for each person. Each weekend had at least one criminalist per shift readily available for high priority call-outs and one back up on standby should that person need assistance. Once they were fully staffed again, there would probably be two scheduled per shift. If Max's master plan worked out they'd eventually have enough people to split into two squads to cover the entire week and give everyone actual, undisturbed days off.

For once, Allie welcomed the on-call work. She needed the distraction. She claimed a bunk and made the bed up with a fresh sheet and blanket. The room was rarely used overnight so it was likely that she had it all to herself for the weekend. Her on-call shift didn't start for several more hours, once Nights was done, so she had some free time. She tried to lay down, but she was still too wired from the upheaval she'd just instigated into her life. Her mind raced with too many thoughts and worries all at once.

Did I make a mistake? Should…I try to patch things up with him? Allie thought but found no answers in the dark, quiet room. Even as the questions occurred to her, they were swiftly followed by a resounding No, woman. Are you mad?

With a disgusted sound, she abandoned the attempt to sleep and sat up, holding her pounding head in her hands. She tried not to think about starting over again like she'd had to when she'd first come to America, so young and all alone. She'd had to give up so much to forge her own path, including the security of her demanding family and childhood home. It had been so important for her to succeed, especially after being hired into the Crime Lab–her dream job–that she'd moved across the country to this captivating, terrifying oasis in the desert called Las Vegas. The need to succeed and to prove to her family that she was more than chattel to be married off had been so strong that she hadn't even been willing to give it up for the one relationship she still regretted not giving the chance to bloom into more. Logically, she knew it wasn't the same situation now, but some fears had festered and lingered even in the face of all she'd accomplished.

"I need some air," Allie muttered and headed towards the stairwell. A rush of warm air greeted her as she made it to the roof. It would be a warm night, but it felt better than that lonely, suffocating little on-call room. She was so tired.

She wandered across the roof until she found the best view of the city. It was so glitzy and bright with all the colorful lights and vibrant nightlife energy. Then, in a sudden rush, the enormity of her day/week/life hit her, and she was too exhausted to do anything but let the burst of negative feelings and stress wash over her. The lights blurred into blobs of colors as tears of frustration and loss and uncertainty began to fall–a much needed cleanse for a miserable and long week.