27th Precinct

MAY 21

It was impossible not to take notice of Claire Kincaid. Whenever she walked into the precinct, every male eye in the building turned to look at her. There was something innocent in her appearance, however worldly she might have been, an instinct that prompted a protective nature in all who came into contact with her, whether it was Lennie offering to take her home if she happened to be at the station late, or McCoy sheltering her from the more gruesome autopsy photos that crossed his desk. If she was aware of the influence she carried over men, it was not something she used flippantly.

Lennie could see from the tired lines on her face that she had been harassed throughout the afternoon. It had been a difficult day in court attempting to clear her final caseload and the verdict wasn't due until the morning. She had the sneaking suspicion she had lost, and was in no mood to deal with McCoy that evening. The message left for her was urgent enough that she left before speaking with him. Approaching the desk where Lennie immediately sat up and put down the phone, she said tiredly, "You wanted to see me?"

"It's been a whole half hour since you were here. I thought you might have missed me."

Though she was clearly out of sorts, Lennie was pleased to get half a smile. He leaned back in his chair and handed her a file folder. "It's a little thing called 'admissible evidence,' though I had to sell my grandmother's grave plot to get it. We had the Boston PD do a little digging. Turns out Robert Hilton isn't the fine, upstanding citizen he would have his mommy believe. Take a look at this. Sworn statements from a number of his ex-girlfriends claiming he threatened them. One of them even took out a restraining order against him."

"I think you just saved my job. McCoy has been riding me on this one." Claire glanced at his partner as Rey returned from the bathrooms, his charming smile flashing across at her as he leaned against the desk. There was a renewed bounce in her step as she faded out the door, and Rey dropped into his chair.

Lennie watched her go, and said, "I'll bet he has."

Rey's expression was almost quizzical. "What, you think McCoy and—?" He motioned after the door as it swung shut, letting her out onto the darkened street.

Looking up from the report he was writing, Lennie replied, "When you've been here long enough, you start picking up on things."

"Isn't that kind of … unethical? I mean, technically, he's her boss."

His partner rolled his eyes in the faint light of the lamp between them. The handwriting on his report was much larger and less meticulous than his partner, who was often asked to decipher his writing when typing it up on the machine. "She's a big girl, Rey. She can make her own decisions. Most of us passed ethics a long time ago. It goes with the job."

"Yeah, but I thought we were supposed to be better than the people we prosecute."

Lennie shot him a withering glance. "Before you get on your high horse, remember that you haven't been here as long as the rest of us. Six months of putting murderers and pedophiles behind bars might disillusion you too when it comes to relationships." He returned to scribbling on his report, enduring a long and significant silence across the desk. Rey crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. It wasn't the notion that bothered him so much as it remained a distraction from the case. His own report was half-written and it was awhile before Lennie glanced across at him and inquired, "You planning on finishing that tonight?"

"This whole case bothers me. I mean, what kind of a sick person beats up on his wife, then spends eight years attempting to find her, only to slice her in half with a piece of piano wire?"

"Obviously, it was more handy than a kitchen knife." Seeing that his partner was not amused, Lennie sighed and put down his pencil. "Look, you're married, right?"

Rey's voice softened slightly as he replied, "Yeah." He knew his partner didn't even have to ask. The first week of his assignment had brought wife and kids to the precinct. Lennie nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"So, do you ever get mad at her?"

Rey shrugged. "Sure I do, but that doesn't mean I ever hit her."

"Look, Rey, there are two kinds of men in this world. The men who think about hitting their wife, or their girlfriend, or their kids, and don't do it no matter how mad they get, and the ones that actually do it. I don't pretend to know what enters that man's mind, and God forbid I ever will understand, but I do know that my job is to get enough evidence so that unethical people like McCoy can put him away for the rest of his life. There's my opinion on ethics. We are better than them, because we're the ones that make them stop."