Title: Till Death Do Us Part (8/15)

Author: KatRose

Disclaimer: Simply put, Dick Wolf's, not mine.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None that I can think of

Author's Notes: The dates for this story are all 2004. I also have to thank kukrae for all her help, wisdom, cheerleading and browbeating me into getting this story written.

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CHAPTER 8

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

SQUAD ROOM

MAY 5

Spending several hours pouring over the documents and running names through the computer for any priors, they came up with a small list of people involved with both the matchmaking service and White Nights. They included Kelsii and Heather Hatagov, Pasek Ermler, Jonathan Klein, Andrew Walkenof and Nathaniel Cullen.

"Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

"This is interesting," Elliot said. "Nate Cullen, husband to the late Lizette Cullen, is on the board of directors for both Aisle Be There and White Nights."

"Could be coincidence," she replied.

"Could be, but I don't like it. Let's go talk to him again."

"Sure. Someone should also go talk to Kelsii since we didn't find him the last time we went," Olivia said. "Fin, Munch, you guys wanna go check out White Nights?"

"Sure," Fin said, "at least the dark club will come in handy for Munch."

Olivia took a quick glance at Munch's face. It wasn't as vividly purple this morning, but it wasn't back to normal either. From the looks of it, Munch had tried using a scouring pad to take the color off. "Now he's purple, red AND blotchy. I should have told him about lemon juice and baking powder. The combo's done wonders for sunless tanning accidents, maybe it would help with this," she thought. "Oh well, it should only be a couple more days before it fades."

WHITE NIGHTS

MIDTOWN MANHATTAN

Fin and Munch had no trouble entering the club because the front door was propped open.

"Looks like they're moving," Fin said.

"That, or a massive fire sale," Munch replied.

All around the main floor were boxes and furniture wrapped in plastic. A large man approached from behind one stack of boxes.

"What are you doing in here?" he snapped.

"We wanted to talk to Hatagov," Munch replied.

"Not here. Get lost, purple man."

"What's going on here?" Munch asked, ignoring the edict to leave and the slur on his current pigment problem.

"None of your business."

"We're making it our business," Fin said.

"Why?"

"Because we're in the moving trade and wanted to get a chance to compete for your business," answered Munch.

"You're obviously not very good at it if you can't tell delivered goods from moving boxes," sneered the man. He motioned for two men in the back of the club to come help with the intruders.

"Not talkin' 'bout the stuff in the middle here," Fin said, pointing to the new furniture. "We're talkin' 'bout whatever this is replacin'. It's gotta go somewhere, right?"

The man relented some at the logic, but didn't readily accept the answer. He motioned for the men to stay put for the moment. "So, whatever you wanna talk to Hatagov about, you can talk to me about. I'm in charge of the day-to-day stuff."

"And you would be?" queried Munch.

"Pasek Ermler. And you two?"

"I'm John Munch and this is my partner Odafin Tutuola."

"So, you say you're in the moving trade," started Pasek. "Forgive for not believing you, but you look too soft to do this for a living."

"We don't DO the moving," Munch said. "We just kinda direct others to do it for us. We're the brains behind the brawn."

Pasek looked at Munch's face and laughed before saying, "If you're the brains, I'd hate to see what the idiots look like."

Fin grabbed Munch's arm before he could do anything detrimental to their visit. "It was a little accident with his ex-girlfriend."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Munch said, taking up the thread, "she didn't like that I was stepping out on her, so she put some dye on my soap so when I went to wash my hands and face, this happened. To say the least, I tossed her out the next morning."

"Good thing," Pasek replied. "She'd be dangerous around anything sharp."

"Yeah, no kidding." The three men shared a laugh at the antics of crazy women.

"Speaking of women," Munch said thoughtfully. "I met a beautiful woman a few weeks ago that said she worked for Hatagov. I was hoping to remake her acquaintance."

"Who would that be?"

"Dede. I didn't catch her last name," Munch said.

"Only Dede I know working for Kelsii is Dede Rayner. She runs a matchmaking service and wedding coordinating company," Pasek replied.

"Pretty brunette about 5'5" with a nice hourglass figure?" Munch asked.

"That's her," Pasek answered a little defensively. "Where'd you meet her?"

"I bumped into her at a coffee shop. She struck me as someone I'd like to get to know." Munch was at his charming best reminiscing about an event that never occurred.

"She's not available."

"She married?" Munch asked.

"No."

"Seeing someone?"

"No."

"Ah, lesbian?"

"NO!"

The more Munch asked about Dede, the more curt Pasek got. Munch decided to give up that line of questioning and said, "Sorry, man, didn't mean to push. Just thought the lady was beautiful and wanted to get to know her better. Maybe she can hook me up through her services," he mused to himself, waiting to see what, if any reaction he'd get from Pasek.

"Might be best if you just leave the lady alone," Pasek said. "Now, back to your original reason for coming in. What can you offer us and at what price?"

The men spent some time chatting about various options for getting rid of the pieces White Nights wasn't keeping and how much it would cost. They left with an understanding that they'd have to come back with a formal written quote before Pasek would agree to anything.

Walking back to the car, Munch asked Fin, "Did you get the feeling that our friend Pasek's hung up on Dede?"

"Maybe. He's definitely got a hard-on about the lady though," Fin replied. "Definitely didn't like you asking about her."

"Wonder what's his story."

"I could ask my friend in OCB. Maybe they have something on him," Fin said.

"Let's get back to the squad."

POLICE SEDAN

STREETS OF MANHATTAN

Elliot's phone rang. "Stabler."

"I need you back at the squad room. We may have found out who our second vic is," said Cragen.

"We'll be right there," Elliot said turning onto a side street to head back to the station.

Special Victims Unit

Squad Room

"In my office," Cragen said when they walked in. Closing the door behind them, Cragen said, "These are two of my detectives, Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler." Turning to the two, he added, "I'd like you to meet Darius Newhouse." Hands were shook as Elliot leaned against the desk and Olivia took the chair opposite the man. "He came in to file a missing person's report on his wife and someone down there thought we could help."

"Mr. Newhouse, how long has your wife been missing?" Olivia asked.

"I don't really know. I just got back from a trip. I went to Taipei for the International Sporting Goods Show and then stayed an extra week to work out some deals with vendors. I then went to Australia for another trade show and vendor visits. Sasha was supposed to be in Rome for a photo shoot, so when I got home and didn't see her, I figured she ran into some friends and stayed a couple of extra days. It wasn't until I listened to our answering machine this morning that I realized she didn't go to Rome," Darius said.

"Could she have gone to visit some friends and not told you?" Elliot asked.

"I doubt it. She's a model and spends every all her time either working or hanging out with her friends who are also models. She's also very good about keeping appointments. She'd never flake on something this big. She'd been excited about this shoot for weeks. It was her stepping stone to the big time."

"Didn't you think it odd that she didn't call you while you were gone?" Olivia asked.

"Not really. I'd leave her messages and she'd leave me messages. I talked to her when I was in Taipei, so I didn't think much of it. With our schedules this month, being on different sides of the world, we knew it wouldn't be easy to keep in daily contact. We both arranged to take next week off from everything to concentrate on us." Darius was trying to make the detectives understand that unconventional communication wasn't out of the norm for he and his wife. "Does that make sense?"

"Do you have a recent picture of your wife?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah, I brought one in figuring the missing person's report would need one." Darius pulled an envelope out of his briefcase and handed Olivia the picture. "She's a real beauty. She'd only been in the country a couple of months when we met and fell in love. We got married shortly afterward." He got a wistful look on his face remembering their whirlwind courtship and wedding.

"Where was she from?" Olivia asked, passing the photo to Cragen.

"Georgia."

"The state?" she asked.

"No, the Republic of Georgia," Darius explained.

"Mr. Newhouse," Cragen started, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but I believe your wife is dead."

"What?!"

"We found a woman's body a little over a week ago that matches pretty well with this photograph. I'd like you to go with the detectives to the morgue to identify the body."

"She's dead?" Darius repeated. "How? What happened? Why wasn't I notified before this?"

"Mr. Newhouse, please go with the detectives. They'll be able to answer your questions once she's been identified," Cragen said.

The detectives stood and ushered Mr. Newhouse out to the bullpen. "We'll call you when we know," Elliot said to Cragen.

"Please do," he replied. "I'll call Warner to let her know you're coming.

CITY MORGUE

"Right this way, Mr. Newhouse," Olivia said, escorting him into the viewing room. "You'll be able to view the body on the monitor over here. They'll pull the sheet back from the face. It won't be very easy to see, but we need to make sure who she is so we can start to find out what happened to her."

"Okay."

"Let me know when you're ready."

"Let's do this. I don't think I can wait another minute to know if it's my Sasha or not," he replied.

Olivia turned on the TV monitor and then knocked on the window so the attendant could pull the sheet back. Darius took one glance at the screen and said stoically, "That's her. Now what?"

"Now we go back to the station and figure out what happened and who could have done this to her."

SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT

INTERVIEW ROOM

"Mr. Newhouse," Olivia said, handing him a cup of water, "we understand this is a tough time for you, but we need to ask you about your wife's activities so we might be able to trace her steps and find the person that did this to her."

"I know," he replied, taking a sip. "Where do you want to start?"

"Where did you meet your wife?"

"Through a matchmaker called Aisle Be There."

"You said she'd only been here a couple of months before you met, how long ago was that?"

"Two years. We've been married almost 18 months."

"What made you pick a matchmaking service?"

"I'd tried the bar scene and the Internet games, but nothing worked out. Either the women were gold diggers or they lied about who and what they were. I wanted to find a wife, not a playmate. So when a friend suggested Aisle Be There, I figured why not," Darius explained. "I really liked the woman that runs the place. She's open and honest. She didn't just look at the bottom line, she really seemed to care about her clients and wanted to see them happy and married."

"Who would that be?" Elliot asked.

"Dede Rayner," Darius answered. "When I first met her I thought she might be a good catch, but she makes it a point to not get involved with her clients."

"Sounds like good business," Olivia stated.

"I think it's because she's involved with one of the guys that work for her boss."

Elliot's ears perked up at the mention of Hatagov. He feigned disinterest when he said, "Getting involved with someone from work can be hard to handle if things go bad."

"Yeah," Darius agreed. "But I always wondered if he wasn't more involved with her than she was with him, if you know what I mean."

"How so?" Olivia asked.

"She did our wedding and he was always following her around with his eyes, even if he wasn't standing with her. But when she wasn't with him, it was like he didn't exist," Darius answered. "I didn't ask her about it, figuring it wasn't my business, but it always struck me as interesting."

"You said your wife was a model. When was she supposed to leave for Rome?"

"On Friday the 23rd in the morning. The photo shoot was supposed to start on Saturday, so she wanted to leave the day before to get acclimated and over the jet lag."

"Do you know what her schedule was for that week?"

"Not really. She kept everything in her planner and it's not at the apartment."

"When was the last time you talked to her or got a message from her?"

"On Wednesday. She was going in for a fitting the next day and she was excited about the clothes she was going to get to wear. Very high-end, very chic and very new. At least that's what she said. I don't know much about fashion except what you wear to sporting events," he laughed self-consciously.

"What agency was she working out of?"

"Madeline's on Fifth."

"Thank you, Mr. Newhouse," Olivia said, closing her notebook. "I think that about covers it. Our condolences on your loss. If you think of anything, please give us a call."

"I will. Thank you for your kindness. Both of you," he said including Elliot in his nod. "I need to make arrangements for Sasha's funeral."

He walked out of the interview room with his head held high but a heavy heart.

Elliot and Olivia went back to their desks and found that Fin and Munch has returned from their visit to the club.

"Did you find anything?" Elliot asked.

"Not much in the way of proof of anything illegal at the club, but we found a guy there, Pasek Ermler, that definitely has a thing for Dede Rayner," Munch answered.

"I wonder if that's the same guy Mr. Newhouse was talking about," Olivia said to Elliot.

"Could be. Definitely couldn't hurt to find out."

"Guess that means a visit to your buddy Kevin at Aisle Be There. He'll be happy to help you, Elliot," she teased.

Elliot just rolled his eyes at her before grabbing the keys to the sedan.