A/N: I have the whole story mapped out, up until the end of Tainted in my Lizzie's Journals series, so you guys will have something to read for a while, lol. Hope you all like it. Oh, and Lizzie's not going to be a vic, but she will come in later, so bare with me.

Chapter Five

Elliot's POV

Olivia and I didn't speak as we walked to the car, but I knew we were both thinking the same thing (we often did, after all). Three girls, three weeks. Who knew how many more there were. Probably a lot, too afraid to come forward. Which meant that we were dealing with something way bigger than us right now.

"Where does she live, again?" I asked Olivia, trying to cut through the silence and forget about the damage this guy, whoever he was, had done. She read off the address, and I gave a low whistle.

"Nice neighborhood," I noted as I drove.

"Yeah, no wonder she's popular." I gave Olivia a sideways look with my eyebrow raised.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, out of curiosity. She shrugged.

"This girl lives in a nice neighborhood, so she's probably got a lot of money," she explained. "In my experience, the girls with a lot of money were always the popular ones."

"So... you weren't popular in high school?" I asked. Olivia shook her head.

"Not with my mom's job, I wasn't."

"Popularity in your high school was based soully on wealth?" I summarized.

"No, it was based on how you looked, how well you dressed, what kind of car you drove, and who you were dating," she tried to explain. "Which then all boiled down to how rich you were."

"I see... But are you telling me you paid for dates?"

"Shut up, Stabler."

When we reached the nice brownstone which belonged to the Tomoto family, I immeidiatly realized that it was her house, because there were three Asian children playing jump rope on the sidewalk. My first thought was that one of them was Kit, but they all seemed too young to be in eighth grade. As we stepped out of the car, Olivia put on that wide smile that she only gets when talking to children.

"Hey, there!" she called. The children instantly stopped their play to look at us. The oldest, a boy, stepped forward.

"Hi," he said warily.

"My name's Olivia, and this is my friend, Elliot," she introduced. "We're police officers and we need to talk to Kit. Is she home?"

"Did she kill someone?" the yougest one, a girl, piped up, and the middle girl gave her a look. I just smiled.

"No, she's not in trouble," I assured them. "We just need to talk to her."

"Can I see yor badge?" the oldest boy asked.

"Right answer," I said, taking it out of my jacket pocket and showing it to him. He examined it for a moment, before nodding.

"I'm Kit's little brother, Haru," he introduced, as if wanting to get to know us before letting us in to his sister. He then pointed to the oldest girl. "That's Ayame, and she's Nami."

"It's nice to meet you all," Olivia greeted, still smiling warmly. Nami, the youngest one, grinned at her in a childish way that appealed to my father side. She was a cutie.

"I can take you in to Kiyoshi's room," said a voice from the doorway of the brownstone. I looked up to see a young man looking down at us with disdain, as though we shouldn't have been there. I nodded.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," I said, and as we walked up the stairs, I saw Nami give Olivia a little wave good-bye. Olivia smiled and waved back. We walked into the house and up some stairs until we reached a hallway. From one of the rooms branching off of that hallway music was blaring. It reminded me greatly of the stuff that my son plays in his room while doing homework, only there was a woman... "singing."

The boy lead us in to this room, and I could see a pretty Asian girl reading at a desk. The room was decked out like any other teenage girl's room should be, posters, a four poster bed, and so much pink I began to wonder about my own masculinity.

The girl looked up from her book and gave us a genuine smile.

"Hey, Haruko, who are they?" she asked, pleasantly, and I found myself liking her almost instantly.

"Police officers," her brother (assumedly) said simply, and stalked off. It took a while for the words to sink in, but when they did, her brow creased in confusion.

"What? Why would police officers need to talk to me?" she asked. Olivia and I exchanged looks. Hers questioned whether or not I should explain it to the girl, and mine told her that she should go ahead. She was better with teenagers than I was.

"You're Kit, aren't you?" Olivia asked, just for verification. After all, we didn't want to question her and find out later she wasn't even our girl.

"Um, actually, at home it's Kiyoshi," she whispered. "Mom and Dad don't let me use my American nickname at home. They're kind of... traditionalists."

I nodded. "I know what you mean. My parents never let me go by my nick name. It was always Elliot at home."

Kit smiled. "Not to be rude, but I can see why you'd want to change it."

Olivia gave me a smirk, but went on. "We need to talk to you about something Annie Prescott told us today."

"Annie?" Kit repeated, quizzically. "What about her? She's not in trouble, is she? I mean, she's a little rough around the edges, but I didn't think she'd get arrested. She's always real sweet to me."

"Actually," I began, slowly, "she was the victim of a crime that you might know something about."

Kit shrugged and shook her head. "I don't think I witnessed any crimes, but..."

"It accurd outside of your school building last Wedensday evening," I told her, and Olivia gave me a questioning look, as if I was pushing it to open up that quickly. I regretted saying anything when I saw Kit's face change from cheerfully helpful, to... well, it looked like I had broken it, and she was trying to put it back together.

"I... I don't know what you're talking about..." she whispered, so softly that I had to lean in slightly to hear her. I kneeled down next to her chair, and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Kit, we really need your help," I said. "If the same thing that happened to Annie happened to you, you can help us catch the guy that hurt you."

"I... Is Annie okay?" she asked, a look of deepest concern in her eyes.

"She's gonna be just fine," Olivia said from behind me. "But if this guy hurt you, you may not be so lucky. We need to know so we can help you, okay?"

"All right... I can tell you what happened... could you close the door, please?" Olivia nodded and moved to close the door. As soon as she did, Kit took a deep breath and launched into an explanation. "I was at school, late, for practice with my cheerleading squad. I hadn't wanted to go, because I had a date with my boyfriend, but I'm the captain, so I had to. So, as I was leaving the school, I had just stepped off of the bottom step, and this guy ran out from no where and grabbed me and pulled me into the bushes at the side of the school."

"Can you describe this guy?" Olivia asked, and I noticed she was diligently taking notes, as she always did. Kit scrunched up her face, trying to remember.

"Um... he was wearing all black and a ski mask... broad shoulders, muscular kinda. I never saw his face, though."

"What about height?" I asked.

"About a head taller than me, and I'm... 5 foot 6," Kit said, her breathing strained. I hated having to put her through this. "So... about six foot 5, maybe six six?"

"Good, that's helpful. Did you see what race he was?"

"He... I didn't see his skin, but he was talking... no, I shouldn't say."

"Say what?" I prompted, and she sighed.

"This is going to sound really racist, but he was talking like a black person," Kit said. "You know, like Ebonics. All this stuff about hoochi and bitch and stuff while he made me... um..."

"Made you what?" Olivia asked, softly and kindly and so gently that I wondered how she did it. How she managed to speak and not let her voice crack. Not start crying. It was the same thing I wondered when I spoke to a victim, except I wondered why I didn't start bawling. I certainly always felt like it.

"He made me... made me... you know... give him... head..." At every word, Kit's voice went softer, until it was barely audible. I gave her the most encouraging smile that I could muster, and touched her hand.

"I'm so sorry to have to make you say it, but we have to, sweetheart," I apologized, and it was a heartfelt apology. I always, always felt sorry when questioning victims.

"Is there anything you remember, Kit?" Olivia asked, benevolently, and Kit searched her memory.

"I... yeah, he said I was going to give him extra credit, before he... you know. Made me to that thing..."

"Thank you, Kit," I said again. "Now, where are your parents? We need to take you to the hospital to check for any Sexually Transmitted diseases..."

"You mean, those can be transferred from that?" she asked. "Oh my God..."

"It's possible, but highly unlikely..." Olivia began, but Kit interrupted.

"No, but you said that Annie was attacked, too!" she cried. "Which means there are more girls! And there might be more than me and Annie! And they need to get tested!"

"Honey, there's nothing we can do if they don't come forward."

"But... they don't even know somebody's been hurt, do they?" she asked, and I looked at Olivia.

"Well, we haven't released information about these attacks to the press, so, no, they wouldn't," I confirmed.

"So, release them to the press!" she ordered. "I'll even give an interview, I just... we have to help them! What if they have a disease, or..."

"Kit, honey, I'm not arguing with you," I said, with a little laugh at her passion for helping these girls. "I think it's a wonderful idea. I can set up an appointment with one of my friends, if that's what you really want."

"It's what I want," Kit insisted. "These girls could be my friends. I want to help them."

"All right," I said, marvelling at her selflessness. "All right."

We took her to the hospital, and her parents were heartbroken from the news. But through the whole time, the one piece of good news I could give them was that Kit's interview was going to help other girls. Other girls that might have seen something that could help us catch this monster. And all the time I thought about Lizzie, and was glad that she never read the paper.