Disclaimer: All characters seen or mentioned on COLD CASE belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer and are used without permission. Sueing me would be a waste of time, since there's nothing you'd get out of this, because I don't make any money with this story.

If you don't like the idea of Scotty/Lilly, you should definitely leave.

Bad news: Still no sex.

Good news: Rather romance-less, but we get there.

Sorry: For not updating for so long.

ORPHEUS AND EURYDIKE
No. 10: The Beautiful Boy
by Dare

Rosa's house was full of police officers. Rydell and Orson were standing in a corner, talking silently, while Agent Sharma was busy ordering Rydell's officers around.

Rydell liked to shout at them – but when someone else shouted at them, Rydell got angry, because he got the distinct feeling someone was doing his job.

Lilly was too silent – while lots of CSI guys collected evidence in small plastic bags, she was just standing in the middle of the room, brooding. Things had been difficult for her, he knew.

It was a horrible case, but Frederick Zimmers' presence and his connection to Lilly's former fiancé Patrick Bailey, made things worse.

It was a strange thing, Scotty thought. Patrick was dead, gone – and somehow his presence was felt stronger than ever.

When Scotty looked at Lilly, standing there all alone in the middle of the room, thinking, he fought down the urge to take her hand and lead her out all of this. He also knew that she wouldn't let him.

As he strolled through the living room, his glance wandered over all the framed pictures on the shelf over the fireplace.

He recognised Rosa St. Claire on some of these pictures, along with smiling friends, smiling family members and on some of them was Juliette.

Juliette as a child, Juliette in her pre-teens, Juliette at the Sanatorium. There was a picture with Juliette, Rosa, Mrs. Trent and a tall, stern man with grey hair and thinly rimmed golden glasses. The women on the picture all smiled, but Mr. Trent didn't.

Behind a large family picture, Scotty found a small silvery frame, almost hidden behind two pictures of an uncle with a giant beard and an red-haired aunt with a tower-like hair cut that seemed to resist each and every gravity.

He looked at that picture and though he considered himself as testosterone driven and completely focused on women when it came to that, he had to admit that the boy on the picture – or rather, the young man, was stunningly beautiful.

The kind of person Leonardo or Michelangelo would have loved to paint or Wilde would have loved to write about.

He had curly, black hair, an even, almost triangular face and high cheek bones. His dark eyes were surrounded by long lashes and his lips were well-shaped and expressed a brooding personality. He looked like a Greek God would've looked like in his teens.

The eyes reminded him of someone but he couldn't quite place the feeling.

"Handsome young man," Lilly commented. "Who is he?"

Scotty turned the picture; nothing was written on the other side, not even on the photo itself. "No idea," he mumbled when he looked at the other pictures.

His glance wandered – over the pictures of the Trent family.

Agent Sharma entered the room – she wasn't particularly happy with what she saw. Orson followed her like a small puppy, a file in his hand and a Shomoolan Cookie in the other.

The FBI Agent pointed at Orson's file. "Apparently, Mr. Trent is not only paying for Juliette's stay in the Sanatorium, but also for this entire place." She looked around. "I understand that people out of a sense of gratification pay for their employees after they have retired but I never figured Jonathan Trent was the type."

Lilly still held the picture of the unknown boy. "We're missing something," she said and handed the picture to Orson. "Try to find out, who he is."

She looked at the pictures standing there, shimmering in their golden and silvery frames and Scotty followed her look.

He looked at the smiling faces and tried to find an anomaly in the pattern. His eyes strayed a picture of Juliette St. Claire, standing next to her mother. Both of them smiled, but the look on their faces told another story.

He looked more closely, finally grabbing the picture only to notice that Lilly had the same idea. She smiled at him and when they stared down at the frame they both were holding,

Scotty couldn't stop himself from noting the small bulge of Juliette St. Claire's stomach.

He looked at Lilly and could tell: she had seen it too.

"Juliette St. Claire was pregnant," Lilly noted.

Sharma shook her head. "So? We're trying to find out who killed the girl, Diana Trent."

"When was the picture taken?" she asked Scotty.

He turned the frame. "1970," he said.

Lilly smiled. "Meaning he was seventeen years old when Diana Trent was murdered."

"He? How do we know he's a he?" Sharma asked.

"Orson is holding his picture – I think he's definitely a he." Scotty grinned. "And according to the files, no one ever interviewed Juliette St. Claire -- or her son."

"You think he's a suspect?" Sharma snatched the picture of the man and pregnant Juliette with newly ignited fire. "Do we know who the father is?"

"I think we should have a little conversation with Jonathan Trent," Scotty said. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried hard not to look too victorious about he obvious step into the right direction. "About his relationship to Juliette St. Claire."

"Great." Sharma nodded. "I'll get Jonathan Trent into our interrogation room and you, Orson --" The man looked up at the mention of his name like a deer caught in the lights, his mouth filled with Shoomoolan Cookies. "Find out, if Juliette St. Claire had a child and if it's the man on the picture."

"You think the boy on the picture killed Diana Trent and his own grandmother, Rosa St. Claire?" Scotty asked while staring at the street, trying to get him and Lilly back to his apartment in one piece.

Lilly looked out of the window, supporting her head with her hand. "Yes," she said. "I think so."

There was something else on her mind – the faraway look in her eyes told it all. It had something to do with Frederick Zimmer's connection to the case – and therefore, with Patrick Bailey.

Scotty wondered what kind of man Patrick had been – and concluded that he must have been stupid to let Lilly slip away; the next second he admonished himself for the thought: After Christina, he himself had almost let her slip away.

Jonathan Trent was not a nice man – Lilly just had to look at him to come to this conclusion. His face was hard, he had a long, strong nose, fine wrinkles around his mouth and a broad chin. His eyes had to colour of dirty snow and when he smiled – or really, when he bared his teeth, they reminded Lilly of an animal. He was good-looking, no doubt, but the peak of his appearance had long passed.

He was not a nice man – and certainly no-one to be trusted with a child.

"Officers," he greeted Lilly and Scotty. "Agent," a nod towards Sharma.

He just raised his eyebrow at his assistant – a blond, pale woman – who hurried away to appear again with a tablet in her hands and steaming cups of coffee on it.

"How may I help you?" he asked.

Scotty looked over to Lilly, only to see her staring at Mr. Trent. There was some kind of appraising look on her face – and lots of intermeshing gears behind her forehead.

When she didn't say a thing, Sharma recovered quickly. "Mr. Trent, we'd like to talk to you about for former housekeeper, Rosa St. Claire. Is there anything you can tell us about her?"

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before Scotty could find out what it was. "She worked for my family since my father's time. She retired eight years ago."

"Anything else?" Sharma pressured. "Anything personal?"

Mr. Trent's eyes narrowed and his back straightened a bit. "I do not have any personal connections to our servants," he said. "She cleaned the house and father used to send her a bouquet each birthday and each Christmas." There was a long glance towards his watch. "I'm a busy man – if there's nothing valuable you'd like to ask me, I suggest you leave now."

"Rosa St. Claire died this morning." Lilly's first words in this room.

Mr. Trent didn't even react. "I am indeed sorry to hear that." He paused for a heartbeat and asked. "Am I a suspect?"

"No – but as her former employer we thought you'd know anyone who could have harboured a grudge against Mrs. St. Claire?"

"Miss St. Claire," Mr. Trent corrected her. "She was not married. She was generally considered likeable and efficient. I do not know of anyone who could have killed her," he said and nipped on the coffee mug.

"Do you know where her grandson is?" Lilly asked.

Mr. Trent stared at her, at a loss for words for a moment. "Xavier? How you you know about him?"

"We found pictures of him in Miss St. Claire's house," Scotty said. "We'd like to talk to him, too. Maybe he knows something about his grandmother's death."

"I seriously doubt it," Mr. Trent snapped, while ringing for his assistant. "I am afraid I have to get back to work." When he got up and moved his head to look down at the phone, Scotty suddenly realized what Lilly had seen in him.

Something terrible dawned ...

Sharma seemed to be oblivious – she shook Mr. Trents hand and her first words when they had left the office where: "Well, that was a useless visit."

"No," Lilly shook his head. "No, it wasn't." She took out the picture of the beautiful boy, Xavier. "Look at him," she said. "Who does he look like?"

Sharma stared down at the picture. "Xavier? He looks like ..."

"The nose and the eyes," Lilly said. "He looks different because of his mother, but the nose and the eyes are the same."

"He's Jonathan Trent's son," Sharma said.

"His illegitimate son," Scotty concluded. "According to the files, he was never acknowledged by his father."

Lilly nodded. "Yes – and within that conclusion there's more than one motive for murdering the legitimate, acknowledged child of his father."

Scotty shook his head. "We won't be able to prove a relation between Mr. Trent and Xavier St. Claire."

Agent Sharma smiled viciously at him. "Just wait a second." She disappeared for a second in the office of Mr. Trent's assistant and when she came back, she carried Trent's coffee mug and made Scotty store it in an evidence back.

"Requesting a DNA test without the participant's declared agreement is considered illegal," Scotty noted.

"Murdering little girls is illegal too – guess what's higher on my priority list right now," she grumbled and shoved him out of the way.

Lilly and Scotty shared a glance.

"Charming," Scotty commented with a smile.

Lilly patted his arm. "You have no idea."

End #10

Don't worry, #11 is almost finished.