Title: Lost Girl
Author: Meghan-the-Melancholy
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The dead body of a 16 year old girl is found raped and beaten, with no identification and witnesses to the actual crime, leaving it up to the SVU detectives to find the girl's murderer.
Author's Notes: This is my first Suv fic, so... be nice. No flames, por favor. If you do flame my ass... then I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too, bitch!
I'll warn you right now: there won't be an E/O pairing. There's too many. A few now and then are nice, but seriously. Every other story is about them. In my opinion, there's not enough Munch fics. He's the coolest mother fucker on the show, and he's got like zip. Except for Fin/Munch fics, but those are nasty as hell.
So... on with the story.
Disclaimer: Okay, I own NOTHING, except the characters you don't recognize. All SVU characters belong to Dick Wolf, that rich ass mother fucker. If you do decide to sue my poor ass, here is what you shall receive:
1.) 4 System of a Down shirts
2.) 1 bottle of black nail polish
3.) 1 black eye-liner
4.) 1 black eye-shadow
5.) $1.50
Yeah... so don't sue the poor freaky chick
Munch sat at his desk in silence looking over several documents. His dark brown eyes scanned Amber Miller's permanent record, reading over what she accomplished in her short time at school. Her grades were poor, reaching no higher than a 'C', but that clearly did not stop her from cheerleading. John chuckled at this.
'Pretty cheerleaders with poor grades; I'm not surprised' He thought dryly, placing the paper on top of Amber's file. John sighed, picking up his cup of coffee. He took a small sip, his taste buds rejecting the now-cooled liquid that was sitting around for three hours.
The old detective glanced at his watch: 7:32 pm. The Millers were due that afternoon, and there was still no sign of them. Hell, there was no sign of Fin and Olivia, who had only gone out to find 'Madam Selene'. 'Must've got a lead' He figured, glancing at the photo of Amber Miller on the folder. His heart softened; she was still a baby, and some sick pervert beat her, raped her, and left her for dead.
'No girl her age deserves to die,' John thought bitterly, 'At least, not this way; not like how Frankie died...'
Before he could continue his train of thoughts, Elliot walked into the station, taking off his long, black jacket. Munch's eyes fixed upon his partner.
"Evening, Elliot; how was your thrilling evening with the Missus and the kids?" He commented, his eyes retreating to their former place. Stabler hung his jacket on the coat rack, replying, "Pretty good, actually. We got a letter earlier today; Kathleen and some other kids from her school have been selected to earn a scholarship."
John's head perked up surprised. "A teenaged girl with some brains in her head, I'm impressed. Congratulations, El." He said his wit back in its full strength. Elliot gave a friendly smile; it wasn't often that Munch wasn't cynical, and he gladly accepted every moment.
"Olivia paged me about an hour ago—she and Fin found a few leads and are tracking them down," Elliot announced, walking over to the back and pulling out the large board. The slight rattling of the board was brought to the attention of Cragen, who left his office for the squad room.
The captain eyed the blank board, sighing inwardly. The case became more complicated since the involvement of 'Madam Selene', which led to the possibilities of more rapes.
"Alright, it's been about thirty-eight hours since we found Amber Miller. What do we have?" Don asked.
John rose from his desk, the picture of Amber, in which she was smiling, between his long fingers. He approached the board, and stuck the picture on. Sighing, Munch began,
"Amber ran away from home last April and ended up in Sheep Head's Bay. There, she stayed for a few months, living with Eddie Jackson's family," He walked from the board for a moment, reaching onto his desk and grabbing several photos. John returned to the board and placed Eddie Jackson's mug shot there.
"Around this time last year, 'Madam Selene' found Amber and managed to convince Amber to work for her. She's done this before to both Theresa de Mareo," Munch cut himself off, sticking a school photo of Theresa on there, "And Rebecca Jackson." He did the same with a picture of Becca, her skin a dark ebony, her hair long and black in tight Jeri-curls and her eyes large and brown.
John sighed, and continued, "Amber went in and out in the Planned Parenthood in Chelsea. She was last there on Sunday, viewed by our little 'Princess of Darkness'. Twelve hours later, Amber's body is found near Battery Park."
Elliot nodded, and walked to the board. "CSU had the whole crime scene marked; it's a 'drop' job. There was no evidence of the murder taking place there, nor the rape. Warner confirmed that she had been dead for awhile before she was found." He commented, specifying the details of her death.
"Found the bitch." A feminine voice said aloud, causing Cragen, Elliot, and Munch to turn around. Olivia and Fin were walking in, still with their coats on. From a folder in Fin's hand, the dark skinned detective pulled a large photo from it. He handed it to Olivia, who held it before her.
The picture was of a fairly young woman, her skin fair and her eyes soft gray, with platinum blonde hair that fell past her shoulders. It was no doubt that she was an attractive woman, but in the eyes of the detectives, she was ruthless.
"Great, just what we need: more blondes. What happened to being a brunette, or perhaps a redhead?" Munch quipped, receiving a few annoyed reactions.
As Olivia brought the photo to the board, Fin began, "Selene Lawson, age thirty-five, owns a brownstone on the upper east side. Neighbors say that she runs a 'home for street girls'." The detective scoffed, continuing,
"Yeah, 'home' my ass. She's been there for around ten years, matching both Theresa and Becca's stories." Cragen nodded, looking at the array of photos.
Over the noise of the station, a Southern tenor voice called out, "Uh... excuse me? Is this is the sixteenth precinct?"
Don and his group of detectives turned themselves around towards the doorway of the office. A tall man stood there, his hair strawberry blonde and his eyes a crisp blue, wearing a dark, brown leather jacket with a light blue flannel shirt underneath and dark blue jeans. Next to him was a woman of medium height, her hair black and resting on her shoulders, wearing a black coat over a white shirt and dark, blue pants. At her side, a young boy stood nervously in khaki pants and a white and blue striped shirt under his navy blue Dickies jacket.
"Can I help you?" Cragen asked, walking to them. The man nodded, and turned to his two companions. "I'm Adam Miller, and this is my wife, Amanda, and this is our son, Dayton. I'm sorry for us being as late as we are, but our flight was delayed." Mr. Miller apologized.
The captain nodded, accepting his excuse. Before he could say anything, Amanda Miller questioned, her accent in full enthusiasm, "You said you wanted to talk to us about Amber? Did you find her?" Don sighed, and looked back at his detectives. "Elliot, John," Cragen began, calling over the detectives.
As Elliot and John walked, Cragen continued, "Mr. and Mrs. Miller, these are Detectives Stabler and Munch; they'll answer any of your questions." The captain quickly walked away in order to answer any questions.
The Millers fixed themselves on the detectives, their faces hungry for answers. "Detectives, have you found our baby?" Adam asked: his voice filled with anticipation and anxiety. Elliot and John glanced at each other, both sighing inwardly.
"Mr. Miller," Elliot began, unsure whether to continue or not, "We need you and your family to accompany us down to the medical examiners."
A bolt of horror went through their faces. "M-medical examiners, like the ones on those police shows?" Dayton Miller asked: his voice shaky. Munch nodded, replying, "A dead girl was found the other day; she matches Amber's profile-"
"Oh God," Mrs. Miller uttered, bringing her shaky hand to her mouth. Mr. Miller draped his arm around his wife's shoulder, gently squeezing it. Reluctantly, Munch continued, "It may not be your daughter, but that's why you're here; we need you to confirm whether it's Amber or not."
Adam slowly nodded his head, in somewhat of a daze. "Whatever you need, yes."
Tuesday, September 7th
Medical Examiner
Manhattan, New York, 8:19 pm
The Millers stood nervously in the waiting room, Munch and Stabler waiting with them. They called Warner before they left, so it gave her little time to prepare. Elliot and John already knew that it was Amber; Eddie had positively identified her, but he had only known her for a few months.
Just then, the door of Warner's work area opened, Warner herself poking her head out. "Whenever you're ready," She said, bringing herself back in. The detectives looked at the shaken Millers, and then led them into the room.
Warner stood near the body, the stale blue sheet covering it. Munch and Stabler stood near the door, allowing the Millers to walk to the body alone. Amanda Miller stopped, her body frozen. Her husband glanced at her, and slid his arm around her waist, trudging her along. Dayton stood in front of the body, fidgeting to no end.
After the family was gathered, Warner grasped the ends of the sheet and gently slid it off, revealing the head. A terrible shriek came from Mrs. Miller, as she dropped to her knees. She buried her hands into her face, her sobs loud and painful. Mr. Miller stepped back, stumbling as he did. His lower lip quivered as his eyes began to water. Dayton stood in his place, trembling, as he began to gasp harshly.
"It's her..." Dayton said, on the verge of tears, "It's Amber... I can't believe she's dead..."
There was a dreadful silence to the room, with the exception of Amanda's howls. John and Elliot looked at each other; two solid confirmations.
"What... what happened to her?" Adam asked: his voice quiet. Warner sighed, covering Amber's head with the sheet. "She was raped, beaten, and, finally, strangled to death." Warner explained.
Munch sighed. "We're still investigating your daughter's death; we ask that you not talk with anyone outside this room about it." He said softly.
Adam nodded, lowering himself down near his wife. His arm, though trembling, wrapped itself around Amanda's waist. Mr. Miller slowly lifted his wife from the ground. "If it means finding Amber's murderer, then yes, anything," He began, resting Mrs. Miller's head on his shoulder, "When can we bring her home? W-we'd like to bury her near my mother and my grandparents."
The detectives glanced at Warner, who sighed and looked at Amber's veiled corpse. "I want to keep her a few more days, just to clean her up a bit more." She answered, her eyes diverted from the parents.
Elliot, his eyes on Dayton, placed his hand on the young man's shoulder and said, "We'll call you when the full autopsy is done. Then, you can come and pick her up, okay?" Dayton nodded, and walked over to his father and overly distraught mother. Mr. Miller fixed his eyes on the detectives and Warner and quietly, but kindly, replied,
"Th-thank you very much."
With that, the Millers turned around, and began to walk on the white tiles out of the room. Sighing, Elliot and John began to do the same when Warner's voice calmly called, "Detectives, I need to talk with you for a minute."
The detectives faced the medical examiner, who was walking to a nearby counter where there layed a clipboard stacked with papers. "You found something else, doc?" Elliot asked, keeping himself at arm's length from Amber's body.
Warner picked up the clipboard and two adjacent baggies, and made her way back to the detectives. She placed the board on the autopsy table and uncovered Amber from her head to slight above her breasts.
"Not long after you and Olivia came by, I found these while cleaning your girl's cuts," She began, picking up a small bag, containing several pieces of long, blonde hair. John squinted his eyes and took the bag from Warner, bringing it closer to him.
"This hair has to be the cleanest and most feminine hair for a man that I've ever seen. What the hell is this guy thinking while he's doing 'it', 'I hope they can my hair glisten from this angle'?'" He commented, handing it to Elliot.
Warner raised her eyebrows in response, and moved back towards Amber, lifting her head, revealing the back of her neck. There, there were several punctures where the strangulation marks ended. "These I found while checking the cuts on her shoulders. I checked them and cleaned them, and from what I found, you guys just got pretty damn lucky."
Warner layed Amber's head down gently, and picked up a baggie that sat on her clipboard. She held the small bag up; in it, a small, white chip of something was packed, half of it, covered in blood. Munch observed the object carefully, his thumbing outlining it through the thin plastic. He looked back up at Warner, his aged faced marked with confusion.
"Now, correct me if I'm wrong," Munch began, holding the bag up, "But this is a piece of a fingernail." Warner pointed to John, nodding her head and stating, "There were eight indents, and in about three or four of them, there were fingernail chips in each; all, painted with white nail polish. There were more samples of both the hair and the fingernails, but I've already sent them over to forensics for you."
John handed Elliot the small bag, causing Stabler to tilt his head in concentration. "These nails were manicured," He began, looking at John and Warner, "Kathy brings the girls to this place here in the city, Chloe's, once every few months for a decent manicure. When I get home, Lizzie runs up and insists on showing me them..."
"The joys of fatherhood." Munch quipped, at which Elliot ignored and continued, "Their nails are always styled the same way; they're a bit pointy at the end. Liz even dug one of those nails into Dickie's arm, once."
John chuckled, remarking, "Insta-knives; get your own weapon shaped into you by a small Korean woman in less than an hour." Elliot rolled his eyes. "The point is that this is from the same beauty salon. Kathy has been switching salons for a few months now; all have a different style."
Warner smiled, removing a few papers from her clipboard and handing to Munch. "I'm not an expert on manicures, but there is a difference from salon to salon. No snowflake is alike." She noted.
Munch sighed, looking at the hair and fingernail evidence. Suddenly, something hit the old detective like a ton of bricks. "What kind of guy has manicured nails?" He asked rhetorically, his face blank.
Elliot raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment. "I would think especially feminine gay men in the village," He answered, then paused for a moment, "But no gay man would rape a woman." Stabler glanced at the fingernail, and then at Munch.
"Amber's murderer wasn't a man..." He trailed off, allowing Munch to answer, "It's a woman. And from the looks of this," John pointed to the pieces of hair, and continued,
"I say that our suspect list has just shaved down. This hair is long and blonde, just like our friend, Selene Lawson's."
A/N: Okay, I'm finally starting to do some hinting into what is going on in the mind of John Munch and this emotional issue resurfaced due to this case. Just want to clear that up.
Also, I've been thinking about taking the advice from one of my reviewers and am looking for a beta reader since my grammar sucks. If you wish to be it, e-mail me or IM me on AOL, but I suggest e-mail, since I'm rarely on AOL.
If you wanna know what's going down with the story so far, check my profile. But scan carefully, unless you wanna waste 10 minutes of your life on pointless shit :-p
That's... about it.
So please, make the girl in black happy, and review )
