The keys slid from Montoya's fingers and fell to the floor. Wordlessly, she stared at the man in front of her. Her mind felt like it was wrapped in cotton, she could not think quick enough to keep up. Working hard to process the information that she had just received, in a timely manner, she took a deep breath to clear the cobwebs from her head. It worked, but to a lesser degree than she had hoped. Silently, she cursed her new "friends" and those damned shots. Still, at least now, she would be going into this unexpected confrontation with knowledge that she otherwise would have been lacking.
It was obvious to her, that TwoFace was the "boss" that the girls had been talking about. The Two of Hearts was probably one of his hide outs. No wonder he had "never been seen" there. Montoya wanted to hit herself for not thinking. She had taken something that Morley said at face value and made a rookie mistake. She had assumed that he was telling the truth. Of course, TwoFace would show up at a place like the Hearts. It was in his nature to do so.
Slowly, to give herself more time to clear her head, she knelt down to pick up her keys; no small feat due to her slightly intoxicated state and her barely there apparel. She had turned slightly away from Dent, so as to not flash all of her assets. Her clothing had been made to attract attention and every small move she made showed more skin than she would have preferred. After finally retrieving her errant keys, and getting back to her feet, Montoya turned to look questioningly at her intruder. Deliberately, she shut the door, for privacy. She decided that she was not going to call for back up….Not yet, anyway.
"Harvey."
She was not sure if she said his name as a greeting or a question. She finally decided that it had been both. Who was she talking to? Harvey Dent or TwoFace? She wasn't sure yet. She had learned that they truly were two different people. While TwoFace was a cold blooded killer, Dent was someone that, under different circumstances, Montoya would have liked to have known better.
Crossing her arms, she stood watching him. He hadn't moved yet and he had an odd look on his face which was causing her to become a bit nervous. Not that she would let him know that, however. Rubbing her arms as if she were cold, she moved towards one of her suitcases, which she had stashed a gun in, just in case.
"Looking for this?" The TwoFace side of his face showed his amusement as he held up her gun for her to see. He looked it over for a moment, before unloading it. "It's not your police issue. Don't you usually carry a Glock? This is a Barretta"
"I was getting a sweatshirt," She spat angrily, not wanting to admit that she would have felt more secure with her gun. Visiting Dent at Arkham was one thing. Dealing with him and his alter ego on the outside, well that was something else. "Is that alright with you?"
With that said, she rummaged through the case and pulled out an oversize dark green sweatshirt. Quickly, she slipped it on over her top. Instantly she felt a small bit of comfort. The added layer of clothing did nothing to protect her, but at least now she could stop wondering what he was staring at. She also grabbed a fabric ponytail holder for her hair and pulled it up loosely.
"Now, may I ask, what you are doing here?"
Even before he responded, she knew the answer. Good heads had come up. That would be the only reason that he would be here. She felt a wave of weariness come over her as he confirmed her suspicions.
"We flipped for it. I want to help."
"You didn't do it, did you?" Montoya found herself asking. She knew what her instincts were telling her, but needed to hear it from him. Dent sighed and looked away from her.. Absentmindedly, he sat on the edge of the window sill, as Montoya was preparing to sit on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. She flipped up her laptop, amazed at how easily she had lapsed into a comfortable silence with Dent. It was at times like this where she could almost forget who he was.
"No, Renee, I didn't."
"You must have freaked when Morley reported this."
Dent looked up and over at her, a puzzled expression on his face
"We…No! We told Morley to report this." He stood up, ready to defend himself. " We didn't figure out what was happening until a few days ago. All of the girls are from out of town, with no family here. The first two girls, well, I figured that they'd just returned home." He looked away from Montoya, again, his face showing some embarrassment now.
"Then we were…away for a while. When we returned, well, you know."
Away for a while? What he meant, she realized, was that he had been in Arkham. She stopped typing and looked up at him.
"I have to ask…How long have you been out?"
"Two nights now." He ran his hand thought his hair sheepishly.
"Harvey!" She fixed him with a stern gaze.
"No one got hurt. I made sure He didn't get out of line, Renee."
Montoya put her head in her hands. She did NOT need this. She needed to be focused on the case, not on Dent. However, she also realized that she could not simply just have him taken back to Arkham, his absence at the club might cause questions. She spent several moments wondering how to continue. Then Dent spoke up, quietly.
"I didn't know you could sing. All those months together and I never knew."
"You never learned that I could sing," she spat, glaring at him, "because I had no reason to!"
She was upset to be reminded of their time together during No Man's Land. She didn't like being reminded how he had taken over her family's lives for six months. How she and her family had been at his mercy. He had never hurt her though. Neither her or any of her family members.
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"
He looked so lost and alone right then that she immediately dropped it. Truth be told, for all her bitterness, it was mainly directed at herself. She was upset that she had let him get the drop on her. She had forgiven him long ago. There was nothing that she could do to change the past, so she vowed to just accept it, and move on.
"So, do you know anything that might help me, Harvey?"
Montoya was not about to tell Dent, but she was starting to crash. She had been up since five that morning and it was pushing on three am, according to the clock of the laptop. She had yet to really get anything out of Dent, besides the statement that he did not take the girls. Wearily, she pulled up the case file on her computer.
"Not much, I'm afraid. I do know that each of the girls went missing the day before each of them was supposed to have few days off. Morley should have all those records on the club computer, if you want to check into that."
"So," Montoya thought aloud, while kicking off her boots," Whoever we're dealing with, knew the girls schedules. How many people have access to them?"
"Morley, but he stores all of that in the computer. All someone would have to do is access it. Plus he posts the schedule in the break room every Thursday before the new week."
"Think I can take a look at that computer tomorrow, before rehearsals?"
Dent shrugged, and came over to the other side of the bed to sit down. While this action should have put Montoya at "High Alert" status, it did not. After practically living with the man, albeit as his prisoner, she had picked up on much of his body language. She was amazed at how quickly certain things came back to her.
"I'll talk to Morley about it. We don't see that it will be a problem. Renee, may we ask you a question? Do you feel alright? You look a bit pale."
"Just to much to drink with those wild party girls of yours, on top of not enough sleep. I'll live."
She started to scan the case files, hoping to find something that would call out to her as a missing clue.
"What can you tell me about these girls that I don't already know?"
"The first girl that went missing was Tiffany Jones, age 22, from Flint, Michigan. I don't know why she came to Gotham. I found her fresh off the bus. She'd only been at the club a month when she just disappeared. She never talked about her family. She didn't associate with the other girls. She always seemed really sad when I would see her."
As he was talking, Montoya started to take notes. She could not help but notice, however, that TwoFace kept leering at her while Dent was speaking. She tried to ignore it, but when his hand came to rest on her thigh, it was time to end it. She kept her tone natural and light, she did not want to provoke him.
"Harv? Can you do me a favor?"
"Yes?"
"Can you move that for me?"
She gently tapped his hand and looked over at him. Instantly, he jerked his hand away, as if it had been burned.
"I'm so sorry, Renee."
She was about to accept his apologies, when TwoFace decided to add his two cents to the conversation.
"Dressed like that all night long, and now she blames us?"
Dent was about to reply to TwoFace's comment, when Montoya's cell phone rang. She quickly ran over to her purse and dug through it until she found the phone, leaving Dent and TwoFace arguing over her apparel. She usually did not carry a purse, and felt clumsy as she dug through it. Finally feeling it with her fingers, she grabbed it and pulled it out of its confines.
"Hello."
"It's me. Can you talk?"
It was Commissioner Gordon. Montoya looked over to where it appeared that Dent had gotten the upper hand once more. 'Sorry', he mouthed to her, looking apologetic, and settled into silence.
"Yes, it's clear."
"We found the bodies, Montoya…Someone was dumping them near one of the snow disposal piles on the outskirts of town. With the warm weather, they've been melting, and a passerby reported it a few hours ago. Can you come down?"
They had found the girl's bodies. That meant the case had just been elevated from missing persons to murder. Montoya's shoulders stooped a bit as her weariness bit into her.
"I thought Bullock was supposed to be handling that end of the case."
"He had to go home…Food poisoning."
Montoya did not even try to deny Gordon. She grabbed a pen and a pad of paper with one hand, the phone stuck between her ear and her shoulder as she knelt by her suitcase, rummaging through it. She pulled out a pair of jeans, socks, and sneakers. Her sweatshirt would just have to do for now.
"OK, give me twenty minutes to get there."
She hung up the phone and tossed it over by her jacket. Quickly, she grabbed up her clothes and went into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later, she reappeared, placing her club clothes on the foot of the bed. She felt better now that she was in her normal clothes. She felt like herself again.
"I have to go. Something's come up."
Montoya felt bad not telling him about the girls, but the fewer people that knew about it, the better off for her investigation. She grabbed up her leather jacket and pocketed her cell phone, then powered down her laptop and stashed it in her suitcase.
"You're not going to run off on me are you?"
She looked over at him sternly. He looked like a child who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"I wouldn't think of it, Renee."
"Just…..stay here. I don't want to have to hunt you down, but I will."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
Montoya started out the door, when she realized that she did not have her car with her, and she had not called a cab. Dent looked over at her and grinned. He had already put his jacket on and a set of keys were in his hand.
"Need a ride?"
"No, absolutely not!"
It was obvious to her, that TwoFace was the "boss" that the girls had been talking about. The Two of Hearts was probably one of his hide outs. No wonder he had "never been seen" there. Montoya wanted to hit herself for not thinking. She had taken something that Morley said at face value and made a rookie mistake. She had assumed that he was telling the truth. Of course, TwoFace would show up at a place like the Hearts. It was in his nature to do so.
Slowly, to give herself more time to clear her head, she knelt down to pick up her keys; no small feat due to her slightly intoxicated state and her barely there apparel. She had turned slightly away from Dent, so as to not flash all of her assets. Her clothing had been made to attract attention and every small move she made showed more skin than she would have preferred. After finally retrieving her errant keys, and getting back to her feet, Montoya turned to look questioningly at her intruder. Deliberately, she shut the door, for privacy. She decided that she was not going to call for back up….Not yet, anyway.
"Harvey."
She was not sure if she said his name as a greeting or a question. She finally decided that it had been both. Who was she talking to? Harvey Dent or TwoFace? She wasn't sure yet. She had learned that they truly were two different people. While TwoFace was a cold blooded killer, Dent was someone that, under different circumstances, Montoya would have liked to have known better.
Crossing her arms, she stood watching him. He hadn't moved yet and he had an odd look on his face which was causing her to become a bit nervous. Not that she would let him know that, however. Rubbing her arms as if she were cold, she moved towards one of her suitcases, which she had stashed a gun in, just in case.
"Looking for this?" The TwoFace side of his face showed his amusement as he held up her gun for her to see. He looked it over for a moment, before unloading it. "It's not your police issue. Don't you usually carry a Glock? This is a Barretta"
"I was getting a sweatshirt," She spat angrily, not wanting to admit that she would have felt more secure with her gun. Visiting Dent at Arkham was one thing. Dealing with him and his alter ego on the outside, well that was something else. "Is that alright with you?"
With that said, she rummaged through the case and pulled out an oversize dark green sweatshirt. Quickly, she slipped it on over her top. Instantly she felt a small bit of comfort. The added layer of clothing did nothing to protect her, but at least now she could stop wondering what he was staring at. She also grabbed a fabric ponytail holder for her hair and pulled it up loosely.
"Now, may I ask, what you are doing here?"
Even before he responded, she knew the answer. Good heads had come up. That would be the only reason that he would be here. She felt a wave of weariness come over her as he confirmed her suspicions.
"We flipped for it. I want to help."
"You didn't do it, did you?" Montoya found herself asking. She knew what her instincts were telling her, but needed to hear it from him. Dent sighed and looked away from her.. Absentmindedly, he sat on the edge of the window sill, as Montoya was preparing to sit on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. She flipped up her laptop, amazed at how easily she had lapsed into a comfortable silence with Dent. It was at times like this where she could almost forget who he was.
"No, Renee, I didn't."
"You must have freaked when Morley reported this."
Dent looked up and over at her, a puzzled expression on his face
"We…No! We told Morley to report this." He stood up, ready to defend himself. " We didn't figure out what was happening until a few days ago. All of the girls are from out of town, with no family here. The first two girls, well, I figured that they'd just returned home." He looked away from Montoya, again, his face showing some embarrassment now.
"Then we were…away for a while. When we returned, well, you know."
Away for a while? What he meant, she realized, was that he had been in Arkham. She stopped typing and looked up at him.
"I have to ask…How long have you been out?"
"Two nights now." He ran his hand thought his hair sheepishly.
"Harvey!" She fixed him with a stern gaze.
"No one got hurt. I made sure He didn't get out of line, Renee."
Montoya put her head in her hands. She did NOT need this. She needed to be focused on the case, not on Dent. However, she also realized that she could not simply just have him taken back to Arkham, his absence at the club might cause questions. She spent several moments wondering how to continue. Then Dent spoke up, quietly.
"I didn't know you could sing. All those months together and I never knew."
"You never learned that I could sing," she spat, glaring at him, "because I had no reason to!"
She was upset to be reminded of their time together during No Man's Land. She didn't like being reminded how he had taken over her family's lives for six months. How she and her family had been at his mercy. He had never hurt her though. Neither her or any of her family members.
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"
He looked so lost and alone right then that she immediately dropped it. Truth be told, for all her bitterness, it was mainly directed at herself. She was upset that she had let him get the drop on her. She had forgiven him long ago. There was nothing that she could do to change the past, so she vowed to just accept it, and move on.
"So, do you know anything that might help me, Harvey?"
Montoya was not about to tell Dent, but she was starting to crash. She had been up since five that morning and it was pushing on three am, according to the clock of the laptop. She had yet to really get anything out of Dent, besides the statement that he did not take the girls. Wearily, she pulled up the case file on her computer.
"Not much, I'm afraid. I do know that each of the girls went missing the day before each of them was supposed to have few days off. Morley should have all those records on the club computer, if you want to check into that."
"So," Montoya thought aloud, while kicking off her boots," Whoever we're dealing with, knew the girls schedules. How many people have access to them?"
"Morley, but he stores all of that in the computer. All someone would have to do is access it. Plus he posts the schedule in the break room every Thursday before the new week."
"Think I can take a look at that computer tomorrow, before rehearsals?"
Dent shrugged, and came over to the other side of the bed to sit down. While this action should have put Montoya at "High Alert" status, it did not. After practically living with the man, albeit as his prisoner, she had picked up on much of his body language. She was amazed at how quickly certain things came back to her.
"I'll talk to Morley about it. We don't see that it will be a problem. Renee, may we ask you a question? Do you feel alright? You look a bit pale."
"Just to much to drink with those wild party girls of yours, on top of not enough sleep. I'll live."
She started to scan the case files, hoping to find something that would call out to her as a missing clue.
"What can you tell me about these girls that I don't already know?"
"The first girl that went missing was Tiffany Jones, age 22, from Flint, Michigan. I don't know why she came to Gotham. I found her fresh off the bus. She'd only been at the club a month when she just disappeared. She never talked about her family. She didn't associate with the other girls. She always seemed really sad when I would see her."
As he was talking, Montoya started to take notes. She could not help but notice, however, that TwoFace kept leering at her while Dent was speaking. She tried to ignore it, but when his hand came to rest on her thigh, it was time to end it. She kept her tone natural and light, she did not want to provoke him.
"Harv? Can you do me a favor?"
"Yes?"
"Can you move that for me?"
She gently tapped his hand and looked over at him. Instantly, he jerked his hand away, as if it had been burned.
"I'm so sorry, Renee."
She was about to accept his apologies, when TwoFace decided to add his two cents to the conversation.
"Dressed like that all night long, and now she blames us?"
Dent was about to reply to TwoFace's comment, when Montoya's cell phone rang. She quickly ran over to her purse and dug through it until she found the phone, leaving Dent and TwoFace arguing over her apparel. She usually did not carry a purse, and felt clumsy as she dug through it. Finally feeling it with her fingers, she grabbed it and pulled it out of its confines.
"Hello."
"It's me. Can you talk?"
It was Commissioner Gordon. Montoya looked over to where it appeared that Dent had gotten the upper hand once more. 'Sorry', he mouthed to her, looking apologetic, and settled into silence.
"Yes, it's clear."
"We found the bodies, Montoya…Someone was dumping them near one of the snow disposal piles on the outskirts of town. With the warm weather, they've been melting, and a passerby reported it a few hours ago. Can you come down?"
They had found the girl's bodies. That meant the case had just been elevated from missing persons to murder. Montoya's shoulders stooped a bit as her weariness bit into her.
"I thought Bullock was supposed to be handling that end of the case."
"He had to go home…Food poisoning."
Montoya did not even try to deny Gordon. She grabbed a pen and a pad of paper with one hand, the phone stuck between her ear and her shoulder as she knelt by her suitcase, rummaging through it. She pulled out a pair of jeans, socks, and sneakers. Her sweatshirt would just have to do for now.
"OK, give me twenty minutes to get there."
She hung up the phone and tossed it over by her jacket. Quickly, she grabbed up her clothes and went into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later, she reappeared, placing her club clothes on the foot of the bed. She felt better now that she was in her normal clothes. She felt like herself again.
"I have to go. Something's come up."
Montoya felt bad not telling him about the girls, but the fewer people that knew about it, the better off for her investigation. She grabbed up her leather jacket and pocketed her cell phone, then powered down her laptop and stashed it in her suitcase.
"You're not going to run off on me are you?"
She looked over at him sternly. He looked like a child who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"I wouldn't think of it, Renee."
"Just…..stay here. I don't want to have to hunt you down, but I will."
"Yes, Ma'am!"
Montoya started out the door, when she realized that she did not have her car with her, and she had not called a cab. Dent looked over at her and grinned. He had already put his jacket on and a set of keys were in his hand.
"Need a ride?"
"No, absolutely not!"