Title: Holiday Fun
Author: Kerry, aka Winter-Sun
Disclaimer: Hm…nope, don't own Law and Order characters, or The Darkness, or Killington Mountain…God I wish I did though. D
A/N: In case some of this might get controversial (very very slightly, if so), I don't mean to be offensive to anyone. And so far as Killington goes, I've only been there once unfortunately (we ski at Okemo Mountain, an hour away). All I know about it is that it is a very advanced, very successful mountain that college students frequently visit – the rest I will be taking liberty with. That being said, enjoy!
Chapter Two: Choices and Revelations
7:50 am
"Coffee?"
"I'm good, thanks," Alex declined, holding up her own cup as her partner approached their desks a little over an hour later. "But come on, Deakins is waiting for us." She grabbed a folder and headed into his office; Bobby followed, mug in hand. "Good morning, sir."
"Good morning," Deakins replied, though his facial expression said differently. "Look, I'm sorry to call you two in for this with only two days remaining before your vacation break."
"It's okay, we're always up for some holiday fun." Alex's words didn't entirely mask the annoyance in her voice, Bobby noted. He took a seat in front of Deakins desk; Alex stood behind him.
"I'm glad. As you know, Amanda Turner was reported missing earlier this morning. Her roommate Danny Marks called Mr. and Mrs. Turner last night, when Amanda failed to turn up for the holiday party their floor was having. Apparently, she had stayed in Vermont, where the ski club was last weekend, for a few extra days without explaining why. Danny says that Amanda had promised to return by Tuesday, and if we go by Danny's word, Amanda was never late for anything."
"Roommate?"
"She is a junior at Amherst College in western Massachusetts," Deakins explained.
"And this case is under our jurisdiction why?"
"Because of her father, who as I'm sure you know is running for a seat in Congress. It sounds like they fear that one of Scott Turner's enemies is behind this." Deakins rummaged through the papers on his desk briefly before pulling out a folder. "Here's her file, her picture, etc." Looking up at them was a beautiful young woman whose passion for life was evident even in the picture. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell down to about shoulder-length, framing a pretty face highlighted by bright blue eyes. Alex leaned over Bobby's shoulder to get a closer look.
"That's her picture from…"
"Last year, college ID."
"So, she's"
"Twenty here, twenty-one as of last September." Alex sighed, trying not to think of what could have happened to the bright-looking face; beside her, she knew Bobby was doing the same. "Her parents are waiting for you; they said to stop by as soon as you get the chance." As Deakins gave Alex the address and directions, Bobby rose from his chair and quietly paced. He hated nothing more than cases that involved the tainting of young, innocent flesh; when you coupled that with politics, it was pretty much as bad as it could get. Running a hand through his hair, he stopped and opened the door for Alex.
"Report back to me when you're done," Deakins called after them. "As you can probably guess, there's a lot of pressure on this one. Oh, and your paperwork from the last case is being taken care of." Wordlessly, the two headed to the elevator, Bobby grabbing their coats en route. Once the doors had closed, he turned to her and spoke.
"Eames-"
"Yeah," she replied quietly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "But hey, we'll get to the bottom of this one too. And hopefully in time for some eggnog."
8:04 am
"Make a left at the light," Bobby read. "Do you have her folder?"
"Seat right behind me." He reached for it and began flipping through, thinking aloud.
"No criminal record, top marks through high school – valedictorian, even. Played on the field hockey team, was captain…"
"Sounds like everything a parent could wish for," Alex commented, glancing in the rearview mirror.
"Right up until she hit sophomore year in college, that is – she was taken in for protests in Massachusetts twice, though they don't mention what the protests were concerning. Grades also declined, but they weren't bad, just not up to her usual standard." He looked at Alex to gauge her reaction.
"All of that is relatively normal by itself," she replied, keeping her eyes on the road. "She's finally away from home: she's bound to try new things to assure independence. And college courses are probably harder than what she was accustomed to."
"True," he agreed, "but wouldn't it be more likely for that to happen in freshman year?"
"Also true. Either way, maybe it wasn't good enough for Mom and Dad." They exchanged glances at the red light, both mentally adding that fact to their list of suspects. Silence reigned for several moments, save for the tapping of Alex's fingers on the steering wheel.
"Check this out," Bobby began curiously. "Last year, Amanda was made Key-Note speaker at the annual Women's Rights Conference at Amherst. The topic of the evening was abortion – more specifically, Pro-Choice." He raised his eyebrows slightly, glancing up to meet Alex's eyes in the mirror. "Scott Turner is a-"
"Republican candidate," Alex finished. "Not likely to be pleased with his daughter's course of action." Bobby nodded grimly as they pulled up to the building. Suspect Number One.
Apartment of Scott and Michelle Turner
8:05 am
"Michelle?" Scott gently shook his sleeping wife. At some point, they had both finally managed to fall asleep, each retreating from life to be plagued by their own nightmares. She moaned and rolled over, not wanting to return to the far worse nightmare of their reality. "Baby, you have to wake up now. Deakins called a few minutes ago; the detectives are on their way." She pulled herself up slowly, blinking her eyes. Scott could see where her tears had crusted over; it looked like Scott wasn't the only one who had cried himself to sleep last night.
"Morning," she said weakly. "You okay?" No, he thought, of course not. Anyone looking at him could tell that easily: his tousled hair, baggy, bloodshot eyes, and wrinkled-from-having-slept-in-it suit hardly spelled an "okay" man. But his job here, he reprimanded himself, was not to throw a pity party for himself, but to be there for his wife. He drew in a deep breath before responding.
"I don't think either of us are – we shouldn't be, really. But I'm sorry about how I behaved last night; I was stressed out. You were right – it's not good to worry yet." His final word resounded in both of their minds. Yet.
The doorbell rang downstairs. Michelle quickly ran a brush through her hair – she was already dressed – before following her husband out the door. She found him at the top of the landing, staring into Amanda's bedroom. Standing behind him, she matched his gaze, falling on Amanda's bed. The covers she had refused to give up since they had picked them when she was ten. Her worn out teddy bear she had been too "grown-up" to bring to college. A copy of Ken Follett's The Pillars of the Earth…
No, Michelle, she stopped herself, feebly grasping the doorframe. The detectives, remember? You can't do this now.
"Scott," she placed a neatly-manicured hand on his shoulder; he turned. The desolate look in his eyes almost made her cry out.
"I know," was his only response. "I don't like it, but I know." Together they trudged down the stairs, searching desperately for the ability to shut off their feelings in order to survive the next half hour.
9:14 am
"I know this is a difficult question," Alex began, an hour into their questioning. She sat net to her giant of a partner on this living room sofa, across from Scott and Michelle Turner. Both parents looked absolutely miserable. Amanda, or Mandy as they had learned, was the picture of her mother. (Michelle's hair was a few shades lighter, but Alex assumed it was a dye-job.) However, Mandy's eyes were clearly her father's: a clear, piercing blue. Alex couldn't help but wonder how many juries had been hypnotized by just a look. "But do you know if there was anyone who might have a grudge against your daughter? Who might want to…hurt her?" Michelle seemed to pale and sag back even further into the sofa. Scott cleared his throat.
"As I mentioned earlier to your captain, I fear this might be some sort of sick retribution from some of my opponents."
"What makes you think that?"
"No, he's got a point," Bobby threw in, addressing both Scott and Alex. "Mr. Turner's always had trouble from his colleagues; it's something he's grown to expect." Scott hesitated, then agreed. "People look down on him, think he's not good enough, that he doesn't deserve what he has – a mechanic's son, intruding in their upper-class world." Alex laid a hand on Bobby's knee, silently reminding him that this wasn't an interrogation. They had no proof against Scott Turner yet.
"Scott deserves what he has," Michelle broke in abrubtly, sitting up straighter. It seemed to take all of her energy to do so. "Anyone who insinuates anything else has no idea what he's been through. Do they realize how much harder he's had to work to get to this level? It's because he is a mechanic's son that he had to…They should respect him for how far he's come, not look down on him for it!"
"We understand that, Mrs. Turner," Alex stated diplomatically. "If we suggested anything else, our apologies. And for the record, congratulations on your nomination." He smiled weakly.
"Thanks – although it hardly seems important anymore."
"Well," Bobby said, rising, "I think we're done here." The detectives headed for the door, but just before he opened it, Bobby glanced over his shoulder at the Turners. "I meant to ask – we uncovered some documents about Mandy's stance on abortion…" He let the sentence trail off.
"Yes, you can certainly say we had our differences," Scott said heavily. "But we learned to deal with them eventually."
"She changed a lot when she went to college," Michelle added, a trace of regret in her voice and a faraway look in her eyes. "There were times I felt I didn't even know her." All at once, she seemed to snap back into the moment, and her defensive edge returned. "But we would never do anything to her. She was our daughter, we love her!"
Bobby nodded, opening the door.
"Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Turner. You've been helpful."
"You'll be in touch should anything come up?" Scott asked.
"Of course. Here's our card if you have anything new." Alex handed him their usual business card, along with her own cell phone number. They left the building in silence, waiting until they were safely out of earshot before beginning their discussion. It was a bitter cold December day; snow was falling lightly. Alex tightened her usual long coat as she looked up at Bobby. "Well?"
"Something doesn't seem to fit right."
"Did you notice Michelle's use of past tense? 'She was our daughter.'"
"Could just be a mother's intuition?"
"Could be," Alex considered. Movement two windows above them caught her eye. "She's watching us." Subtly, Bobby followed her line of sight.
"Let's keep an eye on her. Might not turn out to be anything, but" returning his stare to Alex "better to be safe than sorry."
"Mm." At that moment, Alex's phone rang, triumphantly blaring The Darkness' I Believe in a Thing Called Love. Shooting a look at Bobby that clearly expressed 'Don't – say – anything,' she answered the phone. "Eames."
Bobby watched in silent amusement as his petite partner spoke animatedly, not realy paying attention to what she was saying. For what felt like the thousandth time, he reflected on just how fortunate he was to finally have a partner who understood him; it almost made up for the failures of his other partners in the past. Bobby knew that the half-frightened mocking of Tucci, Calhoon, and Brown produced a bite whose sting could never fully leave; it was something he had considered a flaw until Eames had come along. She knew it too. She had hit the nail on the head on only their second day working together.
"Goren," she had said, pulling him into an empty interrogation room when he first started to close up on her. "Look, I've seen and I've heard about your other partners. What they did was wrong, and I myself am fully prepared to ignore it. You have to understand, though: it's not a bad thing to be upset about them. Anyone would be. Having feelings of your own is not a weakness." She had paused, and when she had spoken again, her tone was softer, gentler. "I'm willing to give you a chance, Goren. You have to be willing to give me one too, for this partnership to work. Don't be afraid to talk to me." When Bobby finally found his voice to respond, it was thick, and he was surprised to feel a light prickling behind his eyes.
"Call – you can call me Bobby." He hadn't had to explain that it was a privelge no other partner had been allowed; he had had a feeling that she had already known. And she had smiled.
As he came out of his reverie, smiling himself, he noticed that she had an eyelash on her cheek. He reached up to push it away, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. She looked up with a question in her eyes. "Eyelash," he mouthed, as she said goodbye to whoever was on the phone. With the snap shut of her phone, they were immediately back to work.
"Deakins," she said, answering his unspoken question. "We've got a hit on the body."
"Where?" She raised her eyebrows as she responded.
"Killington Mountain, Vermont."
A/N – thanks for reading this far! Reviews make my day : ) Next one should be up in a few days.
