Title- Turn And Face The Stranger
Disclaimer- These characters with the exception of Becca and Carson don't belong to me. If they were mine, you'd be seeing this on TV and I'd have a house in Beverly Hills.You have now been disclaimed.
A/N- Sorry for the delay in posting guys, I've been having computer issues again but hopefully they will all be cleared up by the end of July. Please read and review, I'm dying to know what you guys think of how the story's going. As always many thanks to my SVU beta, the amazing FaithHopeLove for her support, assistance and the occassional grammatical kick in the rear. "You are the woman, Faith." Also a shout out to my partner in crime Jules and to David. "Ya'll take care."
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"Ready Becca?" Cragen's voice pulled Becca back to the present.
"Yeah, Cap, let's do it." Becca grabbed her notes and left the interview room.
She walked out into the bullpen, which was now full of detectives and uniformed officers. As she made her way to the board she noticed it held only Carson's photo, and one of the New York victim. Tomorrow it would look like the one she'd left in San Francisco. She swore to herself she'd find and stop Carson before his body count in New York got that high.
Cragen stepped forward to start the briefing, and Becca stood off to the side looking over the twenty or so officers. She offered a silent prayer to whomever that they could help her succeed this time.
"Okay, people." Cragen began the briefing. "We've got one unidentified male Caucasian victim, approximately eight years old, dumped in the boathouse lake at Central Park. The ME has confirmed cause of death as ligature strangulation with post mortem castration."
Don gestured to Becca. "This is Inspector Rebecca Swann, San Francisco PD sex crimes unit. She headed a task force in San Francisco that attempted to catch the perp and will liaise with our department. Inspector." He gestured for Becca to take over the briefing.
Becca stepped forward. "San Francisco's first victim was abducted from a supermarket parking lot in broad daylight, and was found floating in a public fountain five days later, on October 17, 2003. The cause of death and the mutilation were the same on our victims as on the kid found this morning."
Becca began a run down of the victims without looking at the notes in her hand. Each kid, each date was burned into her mind and soul. It took nearly twenty minutes to cover each victim and the pattern of abduction and murder Carson followed in San Francisco.
"Only in the case of the last victim in San Francisco did we find the genitals. In each case the dump took place five to ten days after the abduction. I've been informed that my squad got a hit on this guy's MO from Seattle where we believe he had eight victims over six years. His dumpsites were not as public in Seattle, so that number could change. There are still four unresolved missing kid cases in that area where the description fits our guy's target group. Before Seattle, he was either below the radar or inactive." Becca looked around the room. "Any questions so far?"
"Yeah, how do we know this is the same guy? Bicoastal serial killers are very rare, aren't they?" One of the uniforms asked.
"Dr. Huang?" Becca looked toward the psychiatrist inviting him to take the question.
"There have only been a few serial killers in the past who have hunted in a non-patterned manner, and most of them have, on closer examination, proven to be spree killers or thrill killers." Huang explained. "By and large, a serial killer is methodical in the planning and execution of his crimes and highly territory-specific. This sudden movement is only rational in view of the killer's self-perceived connection to Inspector Swann."
"This guy, Owen Carson, hooked into me during the 'Frisco investigation. He evidently followed me to New York." Becca took a deep breath. "He called me this morning on my cell phone and told me about the body in the park. So I'm pretty confident he's our guy."
"You said he took eight victims in Seattle over a six year period and nine in San Francisco in less than two years?" Munch asked looking over the top of his glasses.
"You've got it. His timetable sped up from Seattle to 'Frisco and may do so again, so we may not have a two month window till his next snatch. He may change his timing, but his target group hasn't changed, and I doubt it will, so Missing Persons has been notified and will immediately inform us of any reported cases falling into this mutt's comfort zone. We'll have files from San Francisco tomorrow and from Seattle the next day." She made eye contact around the room. "The clock is ticking people, so let's nail this bastard fast. Any other questions? No? Very well, Captain Cragen will be handing out assignments." She stepped back and let out a sigh.
George Huang stepped up beside her. "Care to join me for our appointment, Inspector?"
"Let's take this outside, doc. I could use a smoke." Becca said resignedly.
"The roof should be completely private." George suggested.
"Lead the way." She answered.
As they settled on the parapet, Becca lit a cigarette and smiled slightly. "I would guess from the looks you were giving me during the briefing that Stabler told you what we talked about."
"Does it bother you that he did?" George asked by way of admission.
"No, I figured he would tell you…or Cappie." She took a long draw on the cigarette and looked out over the city. "I love my job, I couldn't imagine doing anything else. But sometimes I hate it, too. I've got stuff in my head no one should ever have to see and I see it every day. Pain, violation, mutilation and death, a constant stream of the worst of man's inhumanity. But sometimes I make a difference; sometimes I keep someone from being introduced to that vileness and sometimes I help the victim get justice so they can heal a little better." She took another draw. "Usually that's enough to keep me going, but the kids…"
Becca drew a shuddering breath. "Oh God, George, when I see a kid broken, dead, or worse yet alive to remember the horror they endured, it takes a piece of me."
She sat for a long moment; George could tell she was seeing those kids in her mind. "I finally hit a wall about a year before the Carson case started. We caught a case; the perp had been molesting his little eight-year-old stepdaughter since she was four, and her mother knew all about it. One night he loaned her to a friend, and the guy strangled her. After we arrested both the bastards, I went home and put my Glock in my mouth. I just couldn't handle another night of dreams about these kids." She dropped the cigarette and stomped it out ruthlessly, immediately lighting another.
"Fortunately, I had a partner who decided I didn't need to be alone, and when I didn't answer my door he used his key. Ben pulled the gun out of my mouth before I could pull the trigger. I spent the night on my couch crying into his shirt. I started therapy the next day."
"How long were you in therapy?" George asked.
"I still am. It was every day at first, then once a week." Becca chuckled once, an empty harsh sound. "Well, once a week until Ben offed himself. Then I just split."
"Have you thought about suicide since Ben killed himself?" Huang asked.
"Only every day, but I put my head between my knees until the feeling passes." Becca joked lamely. "Don't worry, Doc, I'm not gonna off myself. Ben forgot the most important thing he said to me that night. You can't quit; if you quit you can never explain to the ones you weren't there for why you copped out. You either retire or go down in the line of duty. I think I'll opt for retirement."
"Let's talk about the rape." George said.
"Let's not." Becca gave a short bitter laugh. "Sorry doc. I just don't know what to say. I know what I feel, but when I open my mouth, the cop takes over."
"So start with that." George prompted.
"Okay. The perp…" She began.
"Stop." Huang cut her off. "Describe him Becca; not what he looked like. Tell me how he smelled; what his hands felt like."
Becca stood up and moved away. "I can't." She answered shortly.
"Why not?"
"Cause it will make him real; make what he did to me real." Becca edged closer to the stairway door.
"Are you going to run again, Becca? Hide from this the way you hid from Ben's death?" George moved between her and the only avenue of escape. "It didn't work did it, Becca? Ben's still there every time you close your eyes, isn't he?" He moved closer. "You can't run far enough or fast enough to get away from yourself. It's time to stop running and deal with everything."
As George spoke, Becca's gaze had gone from wildly eyeing the door to turn inward. She sank down and folded in on herself, knees to her chest, arms hugging them tightly.
"He smelled, oh God, he stank of beer and sweat, and his breath was horrible. He made me… he shoved his crotch in my face and told me to kiss his penis or he'd slit my throat. I-I…nearly threw up from the smell." She began to sob, stammering out the words a few at a time. "He c-cut my underwear off and shoved into me s-so hard, I screamed. When I begged him to stop, he just l-laughed and said he liked a woman who knew how to beg. He pounded into me over and o-over. I c-couldn't stop him, I ..I…" Her voice broke and became incoherent as she cried, rocking back and forth.
George knelt beside her and she clung to him like a drowning woman, weeping inconsolably. After almost ten minutes, Becca's tears began to slow and she pulled back from him, wiping her eyes.
"Your shirt's soaked now." She drew in a shaky breath. "Jesus, I hate to cry."
"Do you think it makes you appear weak?" George asked, handing her a handkerchief.
"Thanks." She said, wiping her eyes with the cloth. "Nah, I just hate the way it makes my nose run." The laugh she gave was quavering but genuine.
"Do you want to go on now?" George asked.
"Not really, but I guess that shows that I need to, huh?" Becca pulled out another cigarette and lit up. "Ready for round two, Doc?" She grinned weakly.
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A/N- Please read and review this one. I will be posting another chapter before Sunday night if my computer will cooperate. Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, your thought have helped me clarify some sticky plot points and kept things moving.