Cassandra Whelan had been smiling so long her face was beginning to hurt. During the whole painful half hour, she had thought about trying to smile in different ways, wondering if she could manage it without the headlines screaming the next morning about how she looked as though she was having a stroke. The flashbulbs had left spots dancing in front of her eyes and if her father had had his arm around her any tighter, her blood supply would have been constricted and surgeons would be removing the dead flesh by now. She hated all this political crap, hated being used as some kind of pawn in her father's quest across the chessboard to the White House. She didn't even vote Republican.

"That's all everybody, thank you very much," Senator Whelan, the people's man, waved a final farewell at his adoring press and then ushered his daughter back into the building, "Well that went very well, don't you think?"

"If you say so," Cassandra replied, rubbing her arm where his fingers had been pressed against her. "Quite frankly, I'm not sure what purpose that whole charade served."

"To ease public fears," he replied smoothly, as if she were a reporter trying to trip him up, "the people of New York are frightened Cassandra, they need something to believe in."

"And me joining Manhattan SVU in the quest to find the killer of some little rich girl is going to do that?"

"Don't be so petty," her father replied as his personal assistant ran to keep up, passing him papers to sign, "It's just as good for your career as it is for mine."

"Despite the fact you never even asked me if I wanted to do it," she persisted, "that you didn't stop to think how it makes me look?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that everyone already thinks I got into the police force through the back door, that I didn't pay my dues in uniform like everyone else."

"You served your two years."

"And then, overnight, I magically became detective!"

"Cassandra, what would you rather I did? Not use my influence to help you, my only child, climb to great heights?"

"I don't want great heights," she grumbled, "I just want people, other cops, to be able to talk to me without worrying that what they're saying is going to get back to the wrong people.

Senator Whelan laughed, "You make it sound as if you're undercover for Internal Affairs."

"I might as well be, for all anyone trusts me."

He stopped walking and turned to face her, "Despite what you might think, Cassandra, I do have your best interests at heart. And…" he held up his hand to stop her speaking over him, "A young girl has been murdered. I'm sure her parents would appreciate all the man power available to catch her killer." Cassandra was forced into silence, knowing she couldn't argue with that sentiment. "Good, now, I'm heading back to Washington this afternoon. I'm sure you'll fit in splendidly with the officers at Manhattan. Don't forget to keep me appraised." He kissed her swiftly on the cheek and then hurried off down the corridor, leaving Cassandra standing like a lost child in a supermarket.

SSSSS

"Tracked down O'Reilly," Olivia said, putting the phone down, "He skipped the country. Got on a flight bound for Amsterdam first thing this morning, before Felicity's body was even discovered."

"Hardly the actions of an innocent man," Munch commented, "What about the other two?"

"Zip," Elliot said, "No sign of them at their apartments, no-one's seen them since the party…" he rubbed his eyes, "What about you guys?"

"I might have something," Fin said, "I went through Felicity's address book. Turns out that she used to be friends with another girl, Tiffany Lewis, when they were at school. They stopped hanging out once Felicity went to college."

"So?" Munch asked, clearly unimpressed.

"Well, Tiffany has a horse stabled in the Bronx and according to her mother, Felicity used to go there with her all the time."

"That's where she might have met horse-man," Olivia said, "We put Vanessa together with a sketch artist, maybe we can identify him. Any luck on a boyfriend?"

"Only one guy listed in the address book," Fin relayed, "Tommy West. Address not far from the Charles'."

"Ok, we'll go to the stables see what we can dig up, you two go see West," Olivia said.

SSSSS

"Tiffany Lewis?" Elliot asked, as he and Olivia approached a young girl grooming a chestnut horse.

She looked up at them as they approached, "Yes?"

"Police," Olivia held up her badge, "Detective Benson, this is Detective Stabler. Can we talk to you about Felicity Charles?"

Tiffany stopped what she was doing and sighed, "Sure, but I'm not sure what I can tell you. Me and Flick weren't that close any more."

"When's the last time you saw her?" Elliot asked.

"Must be about three months ago. I ran into her at a party, but we didn't talk, not really."

"Define not really."

Tiffany shrugged, "We said hi, she walked away. She was with her 'new' friends," her tone was bitter.

"Was it Felicity's choice to end the friendship?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, if you could call it that. She pretty much does what Samantha tells her to do."

"Samantha Baxter?"

Tiffany nodded, "Ever since Felicity met Samantha she's been different."

"Different how?"

"Not been as nice, dissing people she used to be friends with. Now she only talks to the so-called cool crowd."

"Who's in this cool crowd?" Elliot took out his notebook.

"Well, Flick and Samantha of course. Then there's a couple of other girls, I don't know their names, and Ricky."

"Ricky Brown?"

Tiffany nodded, "He's like the head guy. All the girls think he's cute."

"You think he's cute?"

"Please," Tiffany snorted, in a way that indicated she was lying, "He's a loser. He thinks he's so brilliant just because his horse has won loads of awards."

Olivia pulled out the picture that Vanessa Charles had helped the sketch artist draw, "This Ricky?"

Tiffany looked at the picture, "Yeah, that's him."

"Do you know a Johnny O'Reilly or a Mark Watson?" Elliot asked, "We think they might work with Ricky at the security firm."

"Sorry," Tiffany replied, "I only know Ricky."

"Thanks for your help," Olivia said. "So, Ricky's quite the Casanova," she said as she and Elliot walked away.

"Maybe he's the mystery boyfriend."

SSSSSS

Cassandra was still sitting at her desk in Brooklyn by the early afternoon. She was putting off going to Manhattan as long as was humanely possible, despite the fact that all her cases had been temporarily reassigned and she had no work to do. Manhattan had helpfully faxed her the information they had so far on the Charles' murder and she was sitting looking over the crime scene reports, trying to see if there was anything anybody had missed.

"You still here?" her partner Jack Lampard said, coming up behind her, "Thought you would have gone by now."

"Yeah," she sighed, "putting it off."

"Scared they're gonna see through you?"

"Very funny," she replied. Jack was the only one in the squad who could make cracks like that and get away with it. She knew deep down that he respected her as his partner and would defend her against any other cops who tried to browbeat her.

"Saw Daddy on the news," he said, sitting down opposite her, "Quite the media junkie, isn't he?"

"Tell me about it. Wouldn't be quite so bad if he didn't drag me up there with him," Cassandra lifted one of the typewritten reports and studied it closely, "Hey Jack. You remember that rape homicide we dealt with a couple of months back. Victim found in the dumpster?"

"Uh…yeah, sure. Vicky Taylor. Perp turned out to be her brother," Jack shuddered.

"Didn't we suspect her boyfriend in the beginning?"

"Yeah, some security guy."

"Mark Watson," Cassandra waved the report, "Turns out, he was part of the security detail at the Charles' party last night."

Jack whistled, "Daddy's gonna love that."

Cassandra stood up quickly, "I'd better get over to Manhattan."

"Good luck. Don't be too long. You know I'm gonna go crazy here without you."

"Yeah right," she tossed her empty coffee cup at him.

SSSSS

Tommy West had clearly just woken up, judging by the bleary-eyed look he gave Munch and Fin when they arrived at his door. "What do you want?" he asked dopily.

"Police," Munch informed him, "We want to talk to you about Felicity Charles."

"I don't know anything," he replied, rubbing his nose.

"Your name was in her address book," Munch continued.

"I haven't seen her in weeks." Tommy insisted.

"You smell something?" Fin asked his partner.

"Yeah, smells like dope. You want us to come in and bust your ass?" Munch demanded.

"Ok, ok," Tommy opened the door wider, "You can come in. But I still can't tell you anything."

"Wrong answer, Tommy," Fin headed straight for the kitchen where some clear plastic bags were lying on the counter, "What do we have here?"

"Look man, it's just a bit of weed, ok? It's not that big a deal!"

"It is if we haul you down the precinct," Fin told him, "So, Felicity Charles."

Tommy sighed, "Ok. I saw her last night at the party."

"Did you have an invite?"

"No, I gate-crashed. Mr Charles has made it very clear in the past that he doesn't like me."

"Why's that Tommy? You seem like an upstanding citizen to me," Munch said.

"He caught Felicity smoking one time and he thinks its all my fault."

"Smoking dope?" Fin asked. Tommy nodded, "When was this?"

"Bout six months ago. He freaked, told me I was corrupting his baby girl. Like she wasn't already."

"You and Felicity dated?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it dating exactly," Tommy smiled, "but we had a good time if you know what I mean."

"Unfortunately I do," Munch replied, "You have sex with Felicity last night?"

"No, course not. Everyone was watching. Where would we have done it?"

"You were in a hotel," Fin said.

"Well, we didn't. Besides, Felicity was too wrapped up in the other guys that were there."

"Who?"

"Some security guys. She knew one of 'em from some stables she used to go to. They were talking together all night."

"Well, you won't mind giving us a DNA sample then, will you?" Munch said.

"Sure," Tommy shrugged, "No problem."

SSSSSS

"He gave it up too easy," Fin said back at the precinct, "He's not our guy."

"So that leaves Johnny, Mark and Ricky," Olivia said.

"One of whom has already skipped the country and the other two are nowhere to be found," Elliot said, "We've got officers watching the stables in case Ricky makes an appearance."

"So Ricky hangs out with the popular kids at Felicity's college," Cragen said, "He a student there?"

"Art history would you believe," Elliot said, "His job at the security firm is part time."

"What about Johnny and Mark?" Munch asked.

"Both in their early thirties, no evidence they have any other jobs outside of the security firm and apart from the party, there's no connection between them and Felicity." Olivia relayed, "Tiffany Lewis only knew Ricky."

"Well, Tommy West confirmed that the three amigos at the party talking to Felicity were indeed the security guys, so we're not looking for anyone else," Munch said.

"Samantha's still not telling the truth," Fin said, "She had to get that bruise from somewhere and I doubt it was a door."

"What about the CCTV?" Cragen asked.

"Tapes show all three security guys, Felicity and Samantha at the party. You'll need to check them to see if Tommy shows up," Elliot gestured to Munch and Fin, "They also show Felicity leaving the party around eleven with a guy wearing a tuxedo. He's got his head down though so we can't see who he is."

"Samantha?" Cragen asked.

"No evidence she left the party at all," Olivia said, "So if she got that bruise last night, it must have happened at the party."

"The Charles' gave you the guest list, right?" Cragen said, "Canvas it, talk to everyone who was there, see if anyone noticed any disagreement between Felicity, Samantha or anybody. Right now it's the best chance we got."

SSSSSS

Cassandra got no joy at Mark Watson's address and the lady next door told her Mark hadn't been there since the day before. She also told her, that two other cops had already been by and she had told them the same thing. Realising that her counterparts in Manhattan obviously already had Watson in their sights, she was preparing to back off. Until she came out of the building and caught sight of another guy they had interviewed in the Vicky Taylor murder, a close friend of Watson's."

"Hey Terry," she greeted him as he came up the steps, "Long time no see."

Terry groaned, "What you bustin' my ass for? I ain't done nothing. I didn't do nothing then, and I ain't done nothing now!"

"I'm not here to get you Terry. I need your help."

"Why the hell should I help you?" Terry pushed past her, "You wanted to get me for murdering that girl last time."

"And we know it wasn't you. Listen, I need to find Mark."

"You tried to nail his ass too, and he was innocent," Terry said forcefully.

"Yes he was. But someone else has been killed and Mark's looking good for being involved."

"Damn, that's what you said last time."

"I know, but this time it looks really good. Now I need to find him. You seen him since last night?"

Terry paused, "What's in it for me?"

"Your civic duty," she replied, "plus I happen to know you were busted for crack a few weeks ago. I've got some friends in Narcotics, might be able to help you."

Terry sighed, "He went out last night, all dressed up, said he was doing security for some big party at the Waldorf."

"Yeah, and?"

"And I ain't seen him since!" Terry exclaimed, "Now, if you don't mind…"

"Where would Mark go?" Cassandra asked, "If he felt he couldn't come home, where would he go?" Terry didn't say anything, "Come on Terry."

"He's been seeing this chick, Laquisha Thomson. She's got a place on 96th Street. That's all I know, ok?" he pushed past her.

"Thanks Terry," she replied, "that's all I need."

SSSSSS

"So when can we expect the lovely Detective Whelan to grace us with her presence?" Munch said, "Or is she too busy being briefed by Daddy?"

"She should be here by the end of the day," Cragen informed him, "and I don't want any backlash from this, ok?"

"Sure," Munch said, "I'm a welcoming kind of a guy."

"Yeah right," Fin said from his own desk.

"What, I didn't welcome you when you came here?"

"Did anything turn up from the canvas?" Cragen asked, steering the conversation back on course.

"Not much on Felicity," Olivia said, "Nobody saw any kind of disagreement happening between her and anybody. It's just like her parents described her, friendly and welcoming."

"No-one saw her leave?" Cragen asked.

"Well, if the security guys were involved somehow, they're not likely to bring it to Ma and Pa's attention now, are they?" Elliot said.

"Point taken. What about Samantha?"

"That's a different story," Olivia continued, "At least three people saw her arguing with a young guy, spiky hair, described by at least two of them as 'a little spaced out.'"

"Let me guess," Fin said, "Tommy West."

"Description fits," Olivia said.

"Ok, Munch, Fin, bring Tommy in for a sit down. He obviously knows more than he's letting on."

SSSSS

"We know you argued with Samantha Baxter at the party," Munch told Tommy once they had him in interview.

"No I didn't."

"We got witnesses. People who say it was a young guy with spiky hair who was, and I quote, 'a little spaced out.'"

"I was not high," Tommy insisted.

"But you were there?" Fin pounced.

"Of course I was. I already told you that I crashed."

"And you argued with Samantha."

"No, I…"

"Tommy, it's not looking good for you. Samantha's sporting one hell of a shiner," Munch said, "You argued with her, chances are, you hit her too."

"No I didn't!" Tommy sighed in desperation, "I argued with her, sure, but I didn't hit her."

"So, tell us what happened," Fin said.

"Samantha and Felicity were arguing. They slipped off to one of the side rooms. Felicity hit Samantha."

"Why?"

"I don't know, something about Felicity thinking Samantha was coming onto her boyfriend."

"Who was her boyfriend?" Munch asked.

"One of the security guys. I think his name was Rick, or something."

"Ricky Brown?"

Tommy nodded, "That was it, yeah."

"How long had Felicity been seeing him?"

"Couple of months. It was pretty hot and heavy from what Samantha told me. She said that Ricky liked it rough."

"She talking from personal experience?" Fin asked.

"Samantha and Ricky apparently had a thing a few years back. Felicity was worried it was starting up again. That's why she warned Samantha to back off."

"Then what happened?"

"Felicity left the party just before I did."

"Did she leave with Ricky?" Munch asked.

Tommy shook his head, "No, Ricky didn't want to go. Said it was more than his job's worth."

"So who did she leave with?"

"One of the other guys, Mark Watson."

SSSSSS

Having done some digging, Laquisha Thomson's name had come up in connection with Mark Watson and so, armed with a SWAT unit, the team headed to her apartment on 96th Street. They assembled quietly outside and then Fin knocked on the door.

"Police! Mark Watson we got a warrant for your arrest. Come out quietly or we'll come in!" There was no response. "Ok, go!"

The armed officers broke the door down and everyone flooded in. There was no sign of either Mark or Laquisha, but one of the officers yelled from the bedroom that he had found someone. The team rushed in, in time to see a woman on her knees on the floor, her hands behind her head.

"This is a mistake!" she was yelling, "If you just let me…"

"Shut up," Fin said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet, "You Laquisha Thomson?"

"I look like I am?" she demanded.

"Then who the hell are you?"

She wrenched her arm from his grip and fixed him with an angry glare, "I'm Detective Cassandra Whelan, Brooklyn SVU. Who the hell are you?"