Olivia
"Excuse me, we're looking for Michelle Davis," I told the receptionist at the Lexington Ad Agency.
"She's about to leave for a business trip. Whatever you need is going to have to wait."
I pulled out my badge. "We need to speak with her now."
The receptionist picked up a phone. "Michelle, there's two people here who have to talk to you. . . no, they won't wait. . . I tried. . . Okay." She hung up the phone. "Third door on your right."
"Thank you," I said softly. Elliot and I walked down the hall and I knocked on the door. A middle aged woman opened the door. She had brown hair, average build, and a pleasant smile on her face.
"Mrs. Davis?" I asked.
"Yes?" she asked, motioning us to come in. We did, and she closed the door behind us.
"Are you the mother of Josh Davis?"
Fear flickered across her face. "Yes."
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your son is dead," I told her as gently as I could.
"What?" she asked, staring at me with a blank expression. "This isn't funny."
"Mrs. Davis, I know that this is extremely difficult-"
"Who the hell are you?"
Elliot pulled out his badge. "I'm Det. Elliot Stabler. I'm investigating your son's murder. This is my partner, Det. Benson."
Her face dropped five shades of white. "Murder? Josh was murdered? When? How?"
I looked at Elliot. "He was stabbed."
Michelle sat down slowly, staring at the carpet. "I just talked to him before he went to work last night."
"What time was that?" I asked, pulling out my notepad.
"I. . . I don't know. I guess around five. I can't. . . can I see him?"
"We'll need you to come down to make a positive ID."
She nodded, still staring at the carpet. "Does Dylan know?"
"Your husband?"
"Yeah."
"We have some detectives going to his work now."
"He's gone. . . he's away. . . he doesn't know. . . how am I supposed to tell him?"
"Where is he?" Elliot asked.
"California on business. . . he's not getting back until next week."
"Okay, we can take care of the notification, but we need you to come with us."
She nodded again, now chewing on her thumb nail. "Does Jamie know?"
"Yeah, she knows."
Michelle got up slowly. She pulled her jacket off of her coatrack, but didn't put it on, even when we went outside. She didn't say anything, just stared out the window.
Munch
"Did the mother make a positive ID?" Warner asked as Fin and I were waiting for the results of the autopsy.
"Yeah," Fin told her. "What do you have?"
"Your victim bled out from any one of the fourteen wounds. The head trauma was pre-mortem. No signs of sexual abuse."
"What about a tox screen?"
"Clean. No alcohol either."
"Do we know what killed him?"
"Looks like a huge kitchen knife. Approximately one inch wide, seven inches deep and a quarter inch serrated. Silver flakes were located in the wound. I already sent them to the lab."
"Trusty old Warner," I commented.
She shot me a look. "I wouldn't talk about old if I were you, Grandpa."
Fin snickered behind me. "You go Warner."
Cragen
"So what are we missing here? Popular high school senior, no enemies, no drug connections, no criminal record." I asked.
"Gang connections?" Elliot asked.
"None," Fin said.
"Was there any sign of sexual abuse?" Olivia asked.
"Nothing. He was just stabbed after being knocked over the head."
"Is there really such thing as 'Just stabbed'?" Munch asked. "I mean if you really think about it-"
"Somebody please stop him," Fin begged. "If he gets any further into that thought, we'll be here all night."
"The girlfriend did mention a bad break-up he had about a year ago," Elliot said suddenly, pulling out his notepad. "Stacey Rideout. She sent him e-mails threatening to 'cut off his balls'."
"Munch, Fin, I want you to interview her first thing tomorrow. You've all probably had enough teenagers for one day." They had spent all day talking to his friends and classmates.
"What about the girlfriend?" Fin asked.
"She's clean, no record. Says she was working at home on a debate and talking to a Lauren Robbins. We're waiting on her phone records," Elliot told us.
"But could he have been killed because of his relationship with her? His girlfriend's not bad looking. Teenage hormones might be enough to push someone over the edge."
"Olivia, Elliot, talk to her tomorrow morning. See if anyone's been bugging her."
"The principal said something about a fight he had a couple of weeks ago. He thinks it was because of her."
"There was also a bad break-up Jamie mentioned. Stacey Rideout. She sent him e-mails threatening to cut off his balls," Elliot added.
"Tack that on when your at the school, Olivia. I also want his room searched and his computer down to computer crimes."
"Do you really think she's going to be in school tomorrow?"
"Wait and see."
Elliot
"Daddy!" Elizabeth cried, running towards me as soon as I stepped in the door. I picked her up. For ten, she was small for her age and acted younger.
"Hi sweetie," I said, giving her a quick kiss on the top of the head. "Where's everyone else?"
"Mommy's making dinner, Maureen has Stephanie over, Kathleen's listening to music that says bad words and Dickie's watching TV." She jumped down suddenly and ran up the stairs.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She motioned for me to come closer. I stood beside the staircase as she stuck her head against the railing. "I have to make a birthday card for Maureen," she whispered.
"Honey, Maureen's birthday isn't for six months."
"I know," she continued in a whisper. "It's her half birthday."
"Okay," I whispered back and she sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs. I turned and walked towards the kitchen.
"Something smells good," I told Kathy as I came in. "Lasagna?"
"Mmm-hmm," she replied chopping up something at the counter. I snuck up behind her and kissed her.
"I should warn you, Kathleen's on the war path."
"Why? What happened?" I asked, popping a carrot in my mouth.
"She's fourteen. What needs to happen?"
"True."
"So how was your day?"
"Crappy. How 'bout yours?"
"What happened?"
"An eighteen year old kid was murdered. I spent most of the day talking to his girlfriend and parents."
"How long 'till dinner?" Maureen called, coming into the kitched, followed by her best friend, Stephanie.
"Five minutes. Lay the table," Kathy told her, handing a stack of dishes over.
"Are you going this week or next to Columbia?" Maureen asked Stephanie.
"Next."
"Then you're freakin' out too soon."
"I'm not freakin' out."
"Yes, you are. You're the top debator in our school. Why are you so worried?"
"Because Jamie Garner's going to be there."
I pretended to read the paper and listened to what she was saying about Jamie.
"Who's Jamie Garner?" Maureen asked.
"She's a shoo in for States. She's got a really got chance at nationals."
"Have you ever actually seen her?"
"Once, when she made it to finals at NYU last year."
"So she's good?"
"She's perfect. Like, too perfect. She's the kind of person who's got everything. The kind who really pissses me off."
"Huh?"
"She's gorgeous for one thing. She's an amazing debator. She's got a really hot boyfriend. She's supposed to be really smart."
"Have you met her?"
"No, but Eric Roberts-"
"Grade eleven?"
"Yeah. He was against her and he said she's really nice."
"You're not making much sense here."
"I have no chance against her!"
"What are the odds that you'll be against her?"
"I dunno. But still."
"What's the debate?"
"What?"
"What are you debating?"
"Oh, uh, This house would have-"
"Don't talk debate-talk to me."
"Harsher punishments for sex crimes."
"You should talk to my dad."
"What about me?" I asked, turning around, pretending I hadn't been listening.
"Dad!" Maureen screamed from the hall.
"What?" I asked, getting up to find her.
"Tell Dickie to get out of my fu-"
"Don't finish that thought," I warned as I rounded the corner and found her at the bottom of the stairs.
"Well, it's true!"
"You don't need to use that language."
"You always take his side!" she cried, running up the stairs.
Welcome to the world of teenage daughters.
"Excuse me, we're looking for Michelle Davis," I told the receptionist at the Lexington Ad Agency.
"She's about to leave for a business trip. Whatever you need is going to have to wait."
I pulled out my badge. "We need to speak with her now."
The receptionist picked up a phone. "Michelle, there's two people here who have to talk to you. . . no, they won't wait. . . I tried. . . Okay." She hung up the phone. "Third door on your right."
"Thank you," I said softly. Elliot and I walked down the hall and I knocked on the door. A middle aged woman opened the door. She had brown hair, average build, and a pleasant smile on her face.
"Mrs. Davis?" I asked.
"Yes?" she asked, motioning us to come in. We did, and she closed the door behind us.
"Are you the mother of Josh Davis?"
Fear flickered across her face. "Yes."
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your son is dead," I told her as gently as I could.
"What?" she asked, staring at me with a blank expression. "This isn't funny."
"Mrs. Davis, I know that this is extremely difficult-"
"Who the hell are you?"
Elliot pulled out his badge. "I'm Det. Elliot Stabler. I'm investigating your son's murder. This is my partner, Det. Benson."
Her face dropped five shades of white. "Murder? Josh was murdered? When? How?"
I looked at Elliot. "He was stabbed."
Michelle sat down slowly, staring at the carpet. "I just talked to him before he went to work last night."
"What time was that?" I asked, pulling out my notepad.
"I. . . I don't know. I guess around five. I can't. . . can I see him?"
"We'll need you to come down to make a positive ID."
She nodded, still staring at the carpet. "Does Dylan know?"
"Your husband?"
"Yeah."
"We have some detectives going to his work now."
"He's gone. . . he's away. . . he doesn't know. . . how am I supposed to tell him?"
"Where is he?" Elliot asked.
"California on business. . . he's not getting back until next week."
"Okay, we can take care of the notification, but we need you to come with us."
She nodded again, now chewing on her thumb nail. "Does Jamie know?"
"Yeah, she knows."
Michelle got up slowly. She pulled her jacket off of her coatrack, but didn't put it on, even when we went outside. She didn't say anything, just stared out the window.
Munch
"Did the mother make a positive ID?" Warner asked as Fin and I were waiting for the results of the autopsy.
"Yeah," Fin told her. "What do you have?"
"Your victim bled out from any one of the fourteen wounds. The head trauma was pre-mortem. No signs of sexual abuse."
"What about a tox screen?"
"Clean. No alcohol either."
"Do we know what killed him?"
"Looks like a huge kitchen knife. Approximately one inch wide, seven inches deep and a quarter inch serrated. Silver flakes were located in the wound. I already sent them to the lab."
"Trusty old Warner," I commented.
She shot me a look. "I wouldn't talk about old if I were you, Grandpa."
Fin snickered behind me. "You go Warner."
Cragen
"So what are we missing here? Popular high school senior, no enemies, no drug connections, no criminal record." I asked.
"Gang connections?" Elliot asked.
"None," Fin said.
"Was there any sign of sexual abuse?" Olivia asked.
"Nothing. He was just stabbed after being knocked over the head."
"Is there really such thing as 'Just stabbed'?" Munch asked. "I mean if you really think about it-"
"Somebody please stop him," Fin begged. "If he gets any further into that thought, we'll be here all night."
"The girlfriend did mention a bad break-up he had about a year ago," Elliot said suddenly, pulling out his notepad. "Stacey Rideout. She sent him e-mails threatening to 'cut off his balls'."
"Munch, Fin, I want you to interview her first thing tomorrow. You've all probably had enough teenagers for one day." They had spent all day talking to his friends and classmates.
"What about the girlfriend?" Fin asked.
"She's clean, no record. Says she was working at home on a debate and talking to a Lauren Robbins. We're waiting on her phone records," Elliot told us.
"But could he have been killed because of his relationship with her? His girlfriend's not bad looking. Teenage hormones might be enough to push someone over the edge."
"Olivia, Elliot, talk to her tomorrow morning. See if anyone's been bugging her."
"The principal said something about a fight he had a couple of weeks ago. He thinks it was because of her."
"There was also a bad break-up Jamie mentioned. Stacey Rideout. She sent him e-mails threatening to cut off his balls," Elliot added.
"Tack that on when your at the school, Olivia. I also want his room searched and his computer down to computer crimes."
"Do you really think she's going to be in school tomorrow?"
"Wait and see."
Elliot
"Daddy!" Elizabeth cried, running towards me as soon as I stepped in the door. I picked her up. For ten, she was small for her age and acted younger.
"Hi sweetie," I said, giving her a quick kiss on the top of the head. "Where's everyone else?"
"Mommy's making dinner, Maureen has Stephanie over, Kathleen's listening to music that says bad words and Dickie's watching TV." She jumped down suddenly and ran up the stairs.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She motioned for me to come closer. I stood beside the staircase as she stuck her head against the railing. "I have to make a birthday card for Maureen," she whispered.
"Honey, Maureen's birthday isn't for six months."
"I know," she continued in a whisper. "It's her half birthday."
"Okay," I whispered back and she sprinted the rest of the way up the stairs. I turned and walked towards the kitchen.
"Something smells good," I told Kathy as I came in. "Lasagna?"
"Mmm-hmm," she replied chopping up something at the counter. I snuck up behind her and kissed her.
"I should warn you, Kathleen's on the war path."
"Why? What happened?" I asked, popping a carrot in my mouth.
"She's fourteen. What needs to happen?"
"True."
"So how was your day?"
"Crappy. How 'bout yours?"
"What happened?"
"An eighteen year old kid was murdered. I spent most of the day talking to his girlfriend and parents."
"How long 'till dinner?" Maureen called, coming into the kitched, followed by her best friend, Stephanie.
"Five minutes. Lay the table," Kathy told her, handing a stack of dishes over.
"Are you going this week or next to Columbia?" Maureen asked Stephanie.
"Next."
"Then you're freakin' out too soon."
"I'm not freakin' out."
"Yes, you are. You're the top debator in our school. Why are you so worried?"
"Because Jamie Garner's going to be there."
I pretended to read the paper and listened to what she was saying about Jamie.
"Who's Jamie Garner?" Maureen asked.
"She's a shoo in for States. She's got a really got chance at nationals."
"Have you ever actually seen her?"
"Once, when she made it to finals at NYU last year."
"So she's good?"
"She's perfect. Like, too perfect. She's the kind of person who's got everything. The kind who really pissses me off."
"Huh?"
"She's gorgeous for one thing. She's an amazing debator. She's got a really hot boyfriend. She's supposed to be really smart."
"Have you met her?"
"No, but Eric Roberts-"
"Grade eleven?"
"Yeah. He was against her and he said she's really nice."
"You're not making much sense here."
"I have no chance against her!"
"What are the odds that you'll be against her?"
"I dunno. But still."
"What's the debate?"
"What?"
"What are you debating?"
"Oh, uh, This house would have-"
"Don't talk debate-talk to me."
"Harsher punishments for sex crimes."
"You should talk to my dad."
"What about me?" I asked, turning around, pretending I hadn't been listening.
"Dad!" Maureen screamed from the hall.
"What?" I asked, getting up to find her.
"Tell Dickie to get out of my fu-"
"Don't finish that thought," I warned as I rounded the corner and found her at the bottom of the stairs.
"Well, it's true!"
"You don't need to use that language."
"You always take his side!" she cried, running up the stairs.
Welcome to the world of teenage daughters.