A/N…Big thanks to all my reviewers, supporters, story followers, and favoriters! Wish I could respond to you guest reviewers individually, but please know that I really do appreciate it!
EO is still underway. I've got this story mapped out in my head. I know it's hard to see the outcome of EO when they're arguing, but you can't miss the way they're drawn to each other. I'll just let you all read this chapter and see for yourselves. ;)
Quick note of thanks to JamiW for being my legal consultant/sounding board.
Elliot barges into her motel room in a mad huff and continues, "You went to interview a suspect about a case without the ADA present?What the hell were you thinking?"
"Are you trying to tell me that I don't know how to do my job? Screw you, Elliot!"
"You don't even know this guy! Do you have any idea what kind of shit he's cooked up?"
Her grip on the door knob tightens. "Get out!"
"What the hell was so important that he dragged you out to Sheldon Arc?" he charges, that intensity looming in his eyes.
"NOTHING! Nothing was said that you'd need to worry about! Now get the hell out of my motel room!"
He wanders back toward her, arms folded, smug grin. "What then? You two leave and go back to his place? Spend a couple hours in his bed? Geez, Liv….a defense attorney? I know you've hit a dry spell lately, but I thought you had better taste—"
"I said…GET OUT!"
"Fine!" Elliot responds, then storms out.
She slams the door behind him.
Funny, but he didn't used to get her this angry.
Sure, Elliot's changed since his divorce. But so has her resolve for dealing with any of it. She's now at the point where she just has to cut him off.
They've been together too long. They know exactly how to hurt each other.
Olivia grabs her phone, wallet and room key, and heads out.
A drink is definitely in order!
x x
Moments later, she's at the front desk. The night clerk directs her to the nearest bar, which happens to be the one she saw at the corner. She thanks him and heads there promptly. It's a short walk, and the slightly cooler night air is a drastic improvement from the day's humidity.
The place is not as bad on the inside as it appears outside. Definitely a locals joint, because anyone else would have passed it by in a heartbeat.
Six pool tables are set up in the center of the place. Pinball machines and a jukebox sit in one corner. Some bar tables and chairs are set up on either side of the pool tables. The bar itself forms an L-shape, running along the back wall and an adjacent wall. Mirror paneling behind the bar makes the place look bigger.
Besides her, there are about a dozen customers. Probably as busy as it gets for a week night.
Four of the customers are seated at the bar. There's a young couple who can't seem to keep their hands off of each other, a truck driver chatting on his cell phone, and a lady sitting alone sipping on a beer. Her head keeps turning toward the door whenever it opens, so she's probably expecting someone.
Three of the pool tables are occupied with the rest of the bar patrons—about eight to ten college students who seem to be there together to blow off a little steam.
She grabs a seat at the bar, away from most of the others, and orders a drink.
The bartender smiles when he sees her, making polite chit-chat as he fills her drink. Then he resumes re-shelving the highball glasses.
He occasionally changes channels on one of the big screen TVs, trying to decide between a re-televised basketball game and a few old movies.
Bruce Springsteen's 'I'm on fire' plays over the stereo speakers.
The place is just mellow enough, and it's exactly what she needs.
Her thoughts drift back to Geoff, Clay and the meeting earlier.
Clay's story is basically that he was involved with each of the three of the women—Alicia, Jayne and Holly—at different times. Leslie—the fourth victim who was murdered but not raped—had been Jayne's roommate. It appears that she came to her roommate's aid, and he killed her to keep her quiet.
Clay, of course, denies having been anywhere near them on the nights in question.
And he has no recollection of his hunting knife ever going missing.
The psychological reports say that Clay has attachment and anger issues. He has all the right intentions, but struggles with relationships. No formal diagnosis.
According to the friends and family members of these victims, when his behavior turned more possessive and threatening, the young women cut their ties and began to avoid him.
With Holly, it had been more serious.
When he began stalking her, she went as far as to change schools, which brought her out to State College.
With her family in this area, the transition made sense.
Soon after, Clay was arrested and charged with 2 counts of assault on Holly and Jayne. As ordered by the court, Clay began counseling.
He says he was getting his life back together.
Problem is, Holly wanted nothing more to do with him.
He was relentless and kept calling and showing up everywhere she was. He even threatened her friends and family for information about her. She finally filed a restraining order.
It makes a strong case for Clay as the perp.
Olivia pushes her empty glass back contemplating a refill, while the bartender fills two pitchers of beer for the college crowd.
As she waits for the bartender to wander over to her side of the bar, a customer walks in and sits down on the next barstool over from hers.
Out of the corner of her eye she sees who it is and sighs.
She could use another drink and a few more moments alone with her thoughts. But instead, she decides to pay her tab and get the hell away from him before this turns into another pissing match.
She promised Cragen, she promised herself… This will not end ugly.
The bartender returns, but goes to Elliot first.
"A Scotch on the rocks, and…umm…bring her a refill too, please," he requests, gesturing toward Olivia and taking out his debit card.
"That's not necessary…" she tells the bartender, removing enough cash to cover her first drink and tip as she gets up from the barstool. "I'm leaving."
"No, Liv. Stay," he tells her. "Bring her a refill," he instructions the bartender. He accepts the debit card, nods and walks away.
She turns toward him wearily, "Elliot…"
"Liv, please hear me out."
"Why?"
Elliot pulls some papers out of his back pocket—about 6 pages stapled and folded together. He unfolds them and hands her them to her.
"What is this?" she asks, accepting the papers but maintaining a suspicious gaze at Elliot.
"A little more information about your friend, Geoffrey," he replies. "It seems he's not got the best track record—"
"Go to hell!" Olivia hisses, tossing the papers back at him. They hit the bar top, but slide off and fall to the floor by Elliot's feet. He bends down and grabs them up just as she starts toward the door at a hurried pace.
"He had his law license suspended for six months!" he announces when she's about ten to fifteen feet away. He raises his voice to be heard over the music and the rowdy college crowd, who are playfully attacking and chasing each other around the tables with pool sticks.
Olivia stops, turns, and wanders back toward him curiously. "Suspended for what?"
"Unethical conduct," Elliot states. "Almost two years ago. He's on shaky ground at his firm, Liv. Probably desperate to win this case so he can hold onto his job. Might say or do anything at this point. Just thought I should warn you." He hands the papers over to her again. "Go ahead. Read it for yourself."
Her eyes drift between Elliot and the papers hesitantly for a couple seconds. Finally, she takes them.
The top page has an article about the suspension. She scans through enough to get the gist of it. Sounds like he's one of those lawyers who doesn't do things conventionally. Not a lot of details about the cases or anything added from Geoff's perspective, however.
Then she begins flipping through the other pages. Elliot had taken the time to track down some ABA sources mentioning his win/loss case record. Looks pretty good up until recently. At dinner, she remembers him saying how much he hated the corporate criminal negligence cases, which the new managing partners are so fond of. The last pages have two more articles about his standing at the law firm—Gwynn, Roosevelt and McGuire.
Elliot's right, Geoff's on shaky ground. Probably not a topic he would bring up over dinner.
The bartender returns with her refill and Elliot's drink.
She folds the papers and hands them back to him. Then she sits back down on the barstool and takes a sip of the drink he bought for her.
"Talk to me, Liv… What happened at Sheldon Arc today?" he asks earnestly.
She sighs, shoulders slumping forward in defeat. "Nothing. It was more of the same. Clay saying how much he loved the girls and that he'd never hurt them," she answers, wanting to trust her own opinion of Geoff.
Maybe Geoff has his own approach and it's come back to bite him the ass once or twice. She knows a few people in the NYPD and in the DA's office who are like that.
He did mention that he butts heads with the new managing partners a lot. Maybe he doesn't get along well with the people in authority…
Olivia laughs to herself. Yeah, she knows a few people like that, too!
She hasn't even seen him in court yet, although she did get to watch him interacting with Clay and he shows a lot of compassion. That's hard to say of most defense attorneys.
Most attorneys, period.
She doesn't consider herself a poor judge of character, either.
Not in this business. Not after what she's seen.
Her eyes lazily follow the reflected lights in the mirror panels behind the bar, as they pick up the flickering images from one of the big screen TVs.
Elliot takes a sip of his drink, then lowers the glass. "So what does your gut say?"
"Something's off… But Clay was reluctant to talk about it," Olivia remarks. "According to Geoff, Clay has more to say about some events that occurred before these attacks. He thinks it sheds reasonable doubt on this case."
"Something Geoff 'actually heard' his client say?" Elliot poses for clarity.
"Don't know how much he heard, El. Clay clammed up when I got there. And Geoff's not going to break attorney/client privilege."
Elliot sighs. "So, which is it this time? Is Clay forgetful or just confused?" he asks curtly. "Sounds to me like Geoff's putting words in his client's mouth to win a case."
"Geoff never pushed or led him," she argues back.
"Do you believe he's innocent?"
"I don't know... But I don't think Geoff is being dishonest," she responds assuredly.
Elliot smirks. "You really like this guy, huh?"
"He's a nice guy. Give him a chance."
"He seems to like you a lot, too. Guess he can't be that bad," Elliot adds, grinning.
She turns to face him. "So he's made some mistakes on the job…? So what? The system isn't perfect, El. How many times have you or I caught hell for following our own hunches? Same thing probably happened to Geoff. Maybe he doesn't have someone at his firm to take up for him like we have Cragen?"
He rests his arms on the bar. "Yes, but Clay's facing the death penalty. If there's something to spill that could save his life, why wouldn't he?"
"Maybe he's scared?"
"Of what? What could be worse than a guilty verdict in a capital crime?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Could be a co-conspirator. Could be that someone else carried out the murders… Not like we haven't seen our share of cases go in that direction."
"My point is…Clay is the only one on trial. He's got to come up with a better defense…or…"
"Or…what?"
"Or get a better defense attorney…?" he comments with a smirk.
She rolls her eyes and smirks.
"I'm just teasing. So how was the big date with the defense attorney?" he asks smugly.
She eyes him quizzically. "Where did you get the idea that we had a date?"
"I spoke to Alex after you did. But I already figured out you were having dinner."
She nods. "Yes, we did have dinner. No, it wasn't a date. Alex is just messing with me. Great Indian restaurant over by Sheldon Arc, by the way. Beer and wine selection isn't great, but the Kofta is to die for," she makes a sigh of approval.
"Better than Tamarind's?"
"You know…" She nods slowly as she considers it. "It might actually be."
"We'll have to hit it for lunch sometime then."
"Sure," she agrees.
He nudges her arm lightly, then lifts his glass to hers. "Cheers."
"Cheers."
She's enjoying this. Their first conversation in a while—and they do occasionally have these moments—where things between them are comfortable. Friendly.
She misses this. Misses him. Misses their friendship and banter. She wishes moments like these would last, but she's already learned to stop expecting that they will.
Doesn't mean that she won't still try.
"So…how about another round?" she poses, lifting her empty glass.
"Sure." He glances behind him and spots an open pool table. "You up for a game?"
"You in the mood to lose, Stabler?" she teases.
"Against you…? Always," he replies grinning, and downs the rest of his drink.
"You're on."
Blue Oyster Cult's 'Burning for you' starts to play, as Olivia walks toward the open pool table and Elliot motions to the bartender for refills.
The bartender fills the order, then picks up the remote control to search for something else on the TV.
He leaves it on the news and resumes clearing a few empty glasses from the tables.
The news anchor's words appear as captions on the screen…
"…More to come on the Evening Edition. We'll bring you the latest on the climate change bill that just passed in the Senate, and on that intense game last night at Michigan State that people are still talking about.
But coming up next… The Midwest braces for a severe weather outbreak. We'll give you the latest on this dangerous developing storm system, which areas are at risk, and what it could mean for our weather over the next few days. Stay tuned…"
TBC…