Kate Beckett reentered the confines of the bullpen at 5am the next morning.
It had become a habit for her to get up extra early whenever a particularly violent case shook her department. Perhaps it was the relative quietness of the hallways or the lack of phones ringing off the hook that attracted her, allowing her mind to think clearer.
Or maybe it was a certain level of solitude she sought out the most right now.
A lot had changed over the course of the past few years, hell, she had changed. And with it, so had her ideals in life.
Much of the bitterness about her mother's murder had been transformed into fierce determination to bring down Loksat and everyone in his wake. It had made her a lot more enemies than friends, but in the grand scheme of things, doing the right thing didn't require the approval of others.
With a sigh, she set down her purse on the meticulously organized desk, eyes briefly scanning the bullpen to her right, not surprised when only a couple of detectives were manning their desks, most of the staff still getting some rest- or so she hoped.
Her phone was blinking with five new voicemails, the majority quite possibly more calls from the press, requests for special treatment, receiving additional information she may have not covered during last night's conference.
Those people had bothered her greatly at the beginning of her career but now, after years of dancing in that particular circus, she considered them to be no more than vultures circling the carcass, not involved in the actual kill but more than willing to partake in the feast.
The sheer notion made her glance over at the murder board, her heart dropping at the five faces staring back at her, all of them hardworking individuals who, for one reason or another, had been sought out by their killer.
It made her sick to her stomach that so far, no tangible evidence had been produced, their entire investigating relying heavily on assumptions and hearsay.
Without as much as a witness, where were they left to start looking? Who was that killer that he knew when to catch them alone and how to lure them into a safe spot to commence his aweful deed? What were his parameters for choosing his next victim?
The uncertainty had made everyone involved in this case edgy, the stress eating away at them a little more each day. The pressure on Lanie and the lab crews had been excruciating, and unfortunately not helping at all when it came to finding anything valuable.
Several weeks into the mess, the victim's families were beginning to ask questions she couldn't answer, growing weary of their combined efforts to solve these mursders, and yet again, not a single one of the next-of-kin had been able to contribute viable information either.
As for her department…she'd considered the entire case a walk on eggshells, torn between her responsibility to her exhausted staff and her growing need to stop their killer before more people died.
The question was, how much more could she push her people before the pressure would backlash?
A yellow sticky note next to a set of court files caught her attention, the neat handwriting immediately setting off several alarm bells inside her.
With undisguised dread, she bent down to make out the information; the words Chief's order and Criminal Profiler immediately making her blood boil. So much for continuing the investigation with her team only.
Sighing, she mentally prepared to give her boys the bad news, knowing how much an outsider being pulled into their line of work could distract an active investigation.
But orders were orders and as much as she had mastered the art of walking the fine line between obedience and pushing her limits all the way into suspension; this particular order had come from the top of the food chain.
She was about to brew some coffee before digging into her files when the phone rang, the number belonging to the coroner's office.