That was a waste of fucking time. Not only did Reyes have an alibi, his alibi was that he had been fucking Beth at the time. That motherfucker is fucking my baby sister. He was lucky Daryl hadn't killed him right then and there. Now he was in an even shittier mood than before and on top of that, learned nothing pertinent to the case. Except that two of their main suspects apparently weren't suspects at all. And one of them was screwing his sister. Fuck locking her in her room, she was going to a convent if he had to drag her there himself. He sent a quick text to Grimes, stating that Sam had a alibi.
I need a drink, he thought, a thought that repeated itself again and again until he pulled off into a parking lot. Technically the place was called Engine 82, but everybody referred to it as Red's, whether that be because of the front door's vibrant color, or the owner's hair color. Either way, it was the only decent place in town to go bottoms up, and Daryl didn't feel like being indecent tonight. There was already enough of that going around.
Abraham opened his place in an old firehouse when he came to town about 5 years back. An ugly divorce made the Texan flee east, settling in Senoia when he met Rosita, a classmate of Maggie's. Despite the age difference things were still going smoothly and they'd even talked about getting married. Well, Rosita talked. Abe liked to pretend that he was still wearing the pants in their relationship. He didn't fool too many people.
Daryl walked into the dim lighting and raised his hand in a wave towards Abe at the end of the counter before sitting down at the opposite end. He noticed Rosita in the corner, laughing and serving a rather loud table, but he paid no mind. Sasha, Tyreese's sister and the best bartender in town, glanced in his direction and started pouring a glass of whiskey for the detective. She slid it in front of him as he sat down on a stool, a good ways away from the rambunctious table. "Dixon," she says, nodding her head towards him. "How're things?"
He does nothing but grunt at her, something she's used to. In all the years he's been in this town, the few times he's felt the need to come into Red's to drink have been when things are bad. Bad bad.
"How's the case going? Ty hasn't said much…"
He looks up at her from his seat, at her face for the first time since walking in here. He knows her well enough to know that the look she's giving him isn't pure curiosity. There's worry there too. "'s…" He doesn't know what to say. He really can't say much, open case and all that, but he knows he can trust her. "'s nasty. Ugly. Ain' n'va seen nuthin' li' it."
He watches as she takes in his words, something he'd normally never say. Not a lot can shock a Dixon, but this Butcher shit certainly did. His mind flashed back to screaming and crying, falling to the floor as blood streamed down his back. Of eyes swollen shut and split lips, broken ribs and gasping for breath. No, not a lot can shock one of Will Dixon's boys, but this did.
He came back to the present and noticed that Sasha was still looking at him like she wanted to ask him something else. Just as he thought she might, a piercing laugh echoed through the room.
The pair turned their heads towards the sound, its source being that small table in the corner where three women sat. Rosita had walked away now, so he could get a better look at who was making all the noise. He should have paid more attention when he walked in, instead of just worrying about getting some alcohol in his system.
Amy Harris was the one with the laugh, flipping her hair over her shoulder and wearing an outfit that her pops would probably never approve of. Daryl guessed that the only reason Dale had let her out of the house in the first place was because of the woman sitting next to her. Andrea Harris was an older version of her sister in looks only. Where Amy was sweet, quiet and shy, Andrea was obnoxious, bull headed and bold. She breezed into town every six months or so, needing a break from her fancy lawyer job in Atlanta, usually leaving some sort of mess in her wake. Seeing her wasn't the biggest surprise to him though. That would be the third woman, sitting across from the sisters, with a big smile on her face.
Until now Daryl figured that Sovay Martin didn't know how to smile. At least, not really smile. He found out that he was wrong, though, as he watched the women laugh. She looked like a normal girl like this. Probably somewhat similar to what she looked like back in college, before her life turned upside down. She's actually kind of beautiful like this, he thought before shaking it from his mind. What the hell you thinking, Dixon. She's a suspect in a damn murder case. Clearly the whiskey was getting to him already. Or it was the lack of sleep, and the million of things on his mind. Yeah, that had to be it.
He must have been staring for awhile because eventually she turned to look at him, instantly straightening in her seat. Andrea took notice in the change and glanced to see the reason. Her eyes caught on his and the elder Harris gave her famous smirk and threw back the last of her drink. Daryl turned to face forward again mentally shaking his head as he too finished his drink.
Sasha quietly refilled his glass and then moved to the other end of the bar, taking notice of the woman walking towards him. Andrea slid onto the barstool to his left just as he raised the glass to his lips again. "Hey stranger," she said, with that smirk still on her face.
"Harris," he nodded back without looking at her, taking a sip from the glass. He didn't say anything else; he knew that she would. She loved to talk, lawyer and all that.
"Miss me? It's been awhile." He just grunts at her, his own speciality. "Oh come on, Dixon, live a little. I'm only here 'til the end of the week."
He huffed out a bit of air and took another sip. "Shu'nt ya be spendin' tha' tim' wi' ya sister then?"
She laughed then, a flirty little laugh that he'd grown to recognize. "Daryl," she said, laying her hand on his arm, "Amy's a big girl. She can get home on her own."
"Ya kno' there's sumbody goin' 'roun killin' pretty girls don'cha?" he bites out, suddenly furious at her carelessness. He looks at her finally, and sees the mirth fall from her face, before turning his head back forward again.
"Is it really that bad then?" He doesn't say anything to confirm or deny, but he knows she understands the seriousness of it, if he feels the need to point it out. He sees her nod her head out of the corner of his eye as she glances at her sister and back at him. "We'll call it early."
She gets up from the stool to walk back to her table, throwing "You know where to find me!" over her shoulder.
She noticed him as soon as he walked in and immediately decided to ignore him at all costs. When she'd run into Amy earlier and was invited out with her older sister, Andrea, she hastily accepted. Anything to get her mind off of what was going on. She used all her energy to focus on a ritual she'd nearly forgotten: Girl's Night.
When she agreed Amy nearly jumped out of her skin with excitement. Sovay was quickly dragged up the stairs and and thrown back into the world of a normal 20-something girl. She almost didn't remember how this all worked, it'd been so long. Years, really, since she'd gotten all dressed up and went out just for the hell of it. But she went along Amy and the girls got dressed together, did their hair and makeup. When Andrea showed up they changed their outfits again for the fourth time. In the end, Amy traded shirts with Sovay, a teal halter top paired with a black pencil skirt and stilettos, and Sovay borrowed one from Andrea, a black and silver tank top with white skinny jeans and black wedges. Andrea decided on a red tube top and black blazer with tight blue jeans and knee high boots.
By the time all three of them were ready it was nearly nine o'clock and they were starving. They grabbed a quick bite at the small familiar diner and headed down the street to a bar, where they drank and traded stories, laughing and having a good time. She's nearly forgotten the reality of why she was in this town in the first place. Until he walked in, that is.
She really, really tired to ignore him. Tried to focus on Amy's story and having a good time. But then she felt his eyes on her and instinctually stiffened. Andrea noticed, with those lawyer eagle eyes and a curiosity to know why. Her eyes settled on the detective and she grinned, and Sovay found herself getting jealous of all things.
Which was ridiculous. She had no right to be, no reason for it. And yet she was, and grew more so as she watched the elder Harris sister get up from the table without a word and walk towards the man.
She tried not to watch the pair, she really did, and was saved from it with Amy's scoff. "My sister came be such a slut sometimes." Sovay's eyebrows rose in shock of hearing such word out of the sweet girl's mouth, and Amy continued. "She's got a boyfriend back in Atlanta. Or a fiancée, whatever. I've only met him a few times - he's always working, even more than Andy - but he seems nice. Phillip's his name. He's a lawyer too - a defense attorney. He's good looking, a great job, and he's got money. Everything she says she wants. And yet every time she comes home she's always trying to hook up with Detective Dixon. She does sometimes, which is fine I guess, they're both adults. But I just think it's so selfish of her. I mean, yeah, she's cheating on Phillip, but what about Daryl? He's such a good guy, even if some people don't think so, cause of how tough he looks. But he is. He's always helping people, he comes over to help Gramps with stuff around the inn, and one time I saw him save a kitten from a storm drain. He's so nice. And he deserves so much more than my sister using him for whatever bad boy release she needs whenever she runs through town. It's not fair. Not for Daryl. Or Phillip. And it just makes me so angry sometimes. You can't just treat people like that, you know? Not that she cares."
So at just stares at Amy, mouth wide open, baffled at her words. She certainly wasn't expecting that. But then she smirks. "So you've got a thing for Mr. Dixon then, huh?"
She watches as the blonde's face turns bright red as "What-I, no- I don't-" stumbles out of her mouth. She's saved, however by the return of Andrea, who wears a frown on her face. "Hey Andy," she says, cheeks still red. "You strike out?"
Andrea just keeps frowning. "We should head back for the night."
Sovay quirks an eyebrow, wondering what was said between the two at the bar, as Amy tries to sway her sister. "But it's barely even 11, Andy!" she says with that perfect baby sister begging face.
There's a pause before the elder sister replies with a sigh and a "Fine. But only until midnight."
Happy with her extended curfew, Amy hopped up from her seat and ran over to the end of the bar where Rosita and Sasha stood talking, to order more drinks. Sovay stayed where she sat and tried to subtlety decipher what was said between Andrea and Dixon at the bar, by the expression on Andrea's face. She watched as Andrea finished off her drink and sighed, looking around the room, before her eyes fell back on their guest.
"Sovay, you're new in town. Know anything about this Butcher business?"
She tried to mask her face from showing any emotion other than innocence, thinking she may have pulled it off. If the elder Harris sister knew of her involvement with the case, she'd probably never tell Amy and Dale, and she'd be out of a place to stay and a friend. So she gives a vague, "Only what I've seen on the news," answer before the lawyer's phone starts ringing. She looks at it and sighs, hitting a button and putting it to her ear.
Sovay does some sort of sign language saying she'll be right back, and gets up from her seat. She passes by Abraham and the Mullet Man having some sort of argument, and the three woman at the bar easily, going down a small hallway to where the bathrooms are said to be. She doesn't stop in front of the door with the word "Chicks" written across it though. Instead she keeps going to the end of the hallway towards an exit sign.
She hopes there isn't some kind of alarm on the door; that would be embarrassing. But luck is on her side and she slip out quietly into the cool night air. It was a alley, a small one, that opened out onto Main Street. Sovay took a deep breath and leaned against the brick wall, throwing her head back and looking up at the sky.
She's not sure how long she stood there, but eventually she heard the creaking of the door opening. It was a toss up of who was more surprised, her or Daryl. He already had his cigarettes in his hand, the other digging through his pockets for a lighter. He only paused for a second when their eyes met before continuing into the alleyway, lighting up. Both were silent, awkwardly pretending to ignore each other's presence while also trying to catch every one of each other's movements.
He made the first move, clearing his throat to get her attention, even though he knew he already had it. "Shu'nt be ou' 'ere alon'."
She couldn't help from grinning. "Figured I'd be safe. Since I'm apparently the one who's killing everyone." She could feel his scowl under her skin.
"Don' th'nk i's you." Sovay shot up from the wall, completely surprised, and just stared, right at him. He took a long drag before dropping the butt to the ground and stomping it out, looking at the ground. "Do ah th'nk yer a killa? Ah th'nk ya cud be. Yer more than capable. If tha facts add'd up, ah wud'nt doubt ya fer a secon'." Her face fell as he was speaking, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. "Bu' they don'. Les' yer hidin' a dick unda all'a'tha'," he said, raking his eyes over her before finally meeting her gaze again, "wer'nt you."
It took her a second to process what he'd said. But when she did get it, her eyes went wide. "They—they were raped?" she whispered out.
He cocked his head, confusion evident. "Ya didn' kno'," a statement, not a question.
She shook her head. "I didn't—the other cops never said—maybe it was just the girls here?"
He thought he heard something like begging in her voice, knowing that she was probably thinking of her friend, the last known victim. Kelsey. The one she'd found. "I's in all'a'tha' files. Well, tw'le of 'em. I's not back o' tha las' girl yet."
She just nodded, mind running.
"Y'shud get home. "Er, Dale's. S'not safe."
"Worrying about me already, Dixon? Didn't realize I'd gotten so deep under your skin," she said, smirk back on her face.
She bounces back quick, he thought. "Jus' don' wan' ma biggest lead ta disappea'." Deadpanned, straight faced.
She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Well we wouldn't want that," she said opening the door back into the bar. "See you around Detective Dixon. You know where to find me." And then she was gone.
He stayed out in the night air for a few minutes longer, trying to decide if he wanted to drink more when he got back inside. A booming Yes went through his mind and he went back in, and swept his eyes around the room. However, he didn't find what he was looking for. The brunette was gone, but the two blondes were still present, and the older, bossy one met his eyes. He gave a nod, barely visible unless you were paying attention, and she smiled wide.
She said a few short words to her younger sister and then followed him out the door.
Daryl awoke with the dawn, as he always did. He was only confused for a moment before recognizing where he was. It wasn't his first time here, and as Andrea was in town for a few more days, he guessed it probably wouldn't be his last. He looked to his right and saw the blonde facedown, dead to the world. He got up slowly and carefully, not wanting to wake her, mostly so he didn't have to have some kind of conversation. They don't do conversations, just stringless sex and he liked it that way. And he planned on keeping it that way.
He sat up in the bed, putting his feet to the floor and cracking his back. Man I'm getting old, Daryl thought to himself. He reached to the floor and pulled on his clothes, opting to shower at the station rather than risking waking Andrea or the wrath of Dale. He wasn't too happy the last time he caught Daryl sneaking out at the crack of dawn.
He pulled on the last of his clothing, his boots and then his jacket and vest, quietly opening the bedroom door and walking out. He fully expected to be the only one in the house up at this hour. So of course he was wrong. Of course he wasn't, and of course he forgot that Andrea's old bedroom was on the same floor as some of the guest rooms. So of course, when he turned away from the door to walk down the hallway and out of the bed & breakfast, he nearly walked straight into Sovay Martin.
He immediately froze, not knowing what to do. Or what to say. He watched as her face went from surprise, to confusion, to amusement. Her eyebrows rose to an unbelievable heights and she grinned. He scowled, trying to make it scary, but her grin just grew into a full smile. He gave something close to a growl and pushed her out of the way, stalking down the hallway and out of the building. This was going to be a long day.
Rick was just getting in for the day when Daryl stepped out of the locker room, freshly showered and hair still dripping, scowl still present. He followed Rick into his office, motioning towards Tyreese, Maggie and Dr. Stookey to join them. Michonne was already in the room, tacking some papers to the cork board. She nodded to the members of the team as they entered the small space, turning to Rick for his direction.
Grimes sat some files and his coffee down on his desk and turned to face his colleagues. "Let's get started. Bob?"
The squirrelly and quirky medical examiner stepped forward a bit and spoke. "I finished my exam on Eliza Morales. Pretty much the same results as Sophia Peletier. Rape kit was positive, no DNA. Asphyxiation due to strangulation, same as before, as were a good portion of the injuries. Most differences were in the defensive wounds, but even some those were the same. To was negative."
Rick nodded. "Any chance you've looked over those old files yet?"
"Not yet," he said, shaking his head, "Was going to take a quick nap and get to it."
The man in charge nodded again. "Alright, get back to me as soon as you can. Get one of the rookies to help you if you need it." With that, the doctor left the room, leaving the rest of the team to continue. ""Chonne, get anything on those sealed files?"
The woman pulled a file from a stack and handed it to Rick. "Sam Keyes had a lengthy juvie record, mostly petty theft from a few grocery stores and gas stations, one instance of grand theft auto—though it turned out to be his grandmother's car so the charges were dropped—but there were a few things that stood out." And leaned over his shoulder to point to a few lines lower on the page. "At 17 he was charged with assault on a—," she paused to reread the name, "Richard Cassidy, aged 16. However he was never convicted, probably because less than a month later, he was questioned as the main suspect in the boy's disappearance."
Daryl and Rick shared a look from across the room, agreeing on something telepathically. I'm definitely doing deeper checks on Bethy's boy toys. And then he added, And I'm sure as hell telling Hershel to lock that girl up.
"They didn't find a body and there was no evidence, so nothing happened with the locals. But I did a little digging on the Cassidy kid," Michonne said, continuing. "He's got quite a file of his own." She frowned. "Just before Sam was charged with assault, Richard 'Dick" Cassidy was accused of sexually assaulting three teenage girls."
The whole room froze at the admission of this information, and Tyreese was the first to speak up. "How much you want to bet that Sovay Martin was one of those girls?"
Rick huffed out a laugh. "I'd be straight up shocked if she wasn't at this point," he said shaking his head. "Any chance the girls' names are in that file?" he asked, turning towards Michonne.
"They were all minors at the time, so no."
"We could check the hospital records around that time," Maggie threw in, speaking for the first time. "They're probably listed in there somewhere."
"Good idea, Mags, get on it."
She left the room and it was Daryl's turn to ask questions. He was just about to open his mouth when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out, and seeing Andrea's number across the screen, immediately put it back down. He did not need this right now. "We kno' 'n'thin' els' 'bout tha missin' kid?"
Michonne shook her head. "Not really. He was there one minute, gone the next. None of his things were missing but there were no signs of any violence, aside from what Sam did. Could be he just left."
"So he could be anywhere," Tyreese said.
"We go' a picture o'em or sumthin'?" His phone started ringing again and he huffed out a puff of air. He ignored it, again.
She nodded. "Locals are getting one for me, and running age simulation."
"It's been 10 year," Rick added, "he could look completely different."
"Unfortunately they never got any prints on him. He was accused but they hadn't gotten around to arresting him before he went missing."
"So we go' nuthin'."
The room fell silent again, the cops all thinking. Daryl's phone went off again and he was about three seconds from throwing it through a window. What the hell did the woman want?
Rick was the first to speak, coming up with a game plan. "We need to talk to Sam and Sovay again. Figure out what any of this has to do with anything. Bring them in if we have to, full questioning. We're not getting anywhere by playing nice."
It was then that Zach from the front desk knocked on Rick's office door. "Uh, sorry Sirs." His eyes flitted to Michonne. "And Ma'am. Um—there's a woman at the desk asking for you Detective Dixon. She's being very persis—"
Daryl growled, knowing exactly who it was. "Tha' fuck's she want?" he bit out.
"I'm—I"m not exactly su—"
Andrea, being Andrea, decided that that would be the perfect moment to burst into Rick's office, a crazy look on her face. Daryl barely even got a "Wha're—" out of his mouth before she cut him off, panicked.
"Amy didn't come home last night."