Daryl tried to dial the number on the new smartphone that Rick insisted everyone have while keeping at least one hand on the wheel, but the combination of smooth leather and those tiny fucking numbers that kept turning sideways when his hand would slip on the wheel, was causing his hands to keep slipping, on both the phone and the wheel, and he'd have to jerk it with both hands to actually stay on the road he was very much speeding down and…
Breathe, Dixon
It took him a second to realize that he had really heard the words rather than think them. He chanced at look at the woman in the passenger seat, which was a double mistake. Because at the same second he thought, "Shit, when'd she go from girl to woman?", he started swerving off the road again.
"Fuck!" He jerked the wheel to avoid hitting a street sign and the phone fell out of his hand to the floor. "Motherfu—"
A small voice cut him off. "What's the number?" He been so focused on trying to dial and drive (which he does not recommend at all) that he managed to miss Martin falling into herself. He risked a few glances between her and the road but she was very obviously avoiding his gaze. She was also trying and failing to keep her hands still as she sat in the passenger seat, forcing herself to take deep steady breaths. "Dixon, what's the numb—"
"Ya alrigh'?
Sovay sent a puff of air out through her nose. "I'm not the one about to run us off the road. What's the number?" she asked, fingers poised to punch the digits into her phone. He watched her pause, waiting for his answer. When he didn't, he watched as her eyes found his, imploring him to drop it. "I'm fine. What's—"
He cut her off reciting the first number he'd really ever cared to memorize, and soon they were waiting for Rick Grimes to pick up his phone. Which of course he didn't. Daryl took a sharp left turn heading down an old dirt road causing dust to fly up around them, as she dialed again. Daryl's eyes started to scan the thin line of trees to his left, knowing that the small quarry that they were headed to could be seen from the road, if thee trees weren't too thick. Which of course they were.
Sovay was on her fourth call to Rick by the time he picked up, and she sounded like she wasn't sure of what to say now that he had actually answered. "Oh! Uh…Detective Grimes, this is um, Sovay. Martin that is. I—We, Dixon and I, um—"
"Put it on speak'a," he interrupted, and she quickly did as he asked. "Rick, th'nk we kno' where Amy's at. Headin' ta tha ole quarry," He paused as he took another left onto a gravel drive, and Rick tried to get a word in but was cut off. "Meet ya there." With that Daryl reached over and ended the call.
In just a few seconds Daryl's old beat up truck burst through the trees and both occupants could see the long unused quarry clearly.
She was much more jumpy these days, which was saying something, and rightly so. She'd been paranoid for years now, ever since life dealt her more than enough blows at the age of 15. And while it settled itself during the more dull moments of her life, it was quick to pick up again when events warranted it. Like in Louisville. And now. So when Daryl reached his arm over towards her, Sovay instinctively froze up before watching him end the call. She was definitely on edge and while she was fairly certain that Detective Dixon wouldn't harm her, she still wasn't entirely sure.
Her gaze was pulled by the sudden increase of sunlight as Dixon's truck drove past the tree line, and she took in the quarry before her. The sun reflected off the water and the light colored rocks, making them shimmer. What a beautiful place, she thought before her eyes settled on the lake once more, and the object floating in it. The large object, she realized as her heart sank.
Daryl slammed on the breaks just before the edge of the water and hopped out of the truck before she could blink. Please no, she prayed, as she watched the detective begin to swim out to the middle of the pond, but Sovay already knew the truth.
It could've been hours, or it could've been years that Sovay sat frozen in place in the passenger seat of Daryl's truck watching the man retrieve the body. She could hear the sirens approaching, and eventually saw the red and blue lights of the emergency vehicles as they parked beside her. She knew that multiple people had gotten out of their cars and a few even got into the water to help Dixon. But she couldn't move, couldn't stop staring, watching as he reached the shore again with what was left of Amy Harris in his arms.
It was them that she finally moved. unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled the level on the door to get out of the car, but still her movements were automatic. All that was running through her mind was This is my fault, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Amy.
It was jarring to her then, when as soon as she stood outside of the truck, that she was shoved into the side of it face first, and her arms pulled behind her, her eyes closing as she tried to focus her mind. "Sovay Martin," said the woman's voice, "you are under arrest for the murder of Amy Harris. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been given to you?"
She opened her eyes and blinked, taking in the face of a young woman she had just had dinner with a few days ago.Had it really just been a few days? Maggie continued to look at her expectantly and Sovay remembered that she was supposed to answer a question. However instead of opening her mouth she just nodded her head before being yanked in the direction of a waiting police cruiser. She could feel a particularly branding pair of eyes following her, and she risked a glance in their direction.
Her brown eyes met blue for just a few moments she turned them back to the gravel path ahead of her.
Sovay shifted again, trying to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair while her hands were cuffed behind her in a most uncomfortable kind of way. Little Bethy's sister placed her in this chair what seemed like hours ago and most likely was. She was in a interrogation room with a camera, two chairs, one of which she was occupying, a table and a two way mirror. Very little, practically nothing, to keep her busy while she waited. And honestly, she didn't believe that she had been forgotten, rather, there were just a great many things that needed dealt with and she was the last on their list. So in the time since the eldest Greene sister put her in this room, Sovay had already counted all the ceiling tiles, recited an entire Theory of a Deadman album in her head, and was currently trying to find shapes in the design of the tile of the floor.
She was actually so focused on whether those few small specks looked more like a duck or a rabbit that she was startled at the opening of the door. In walked none other than Rick Grimes and another woman she had yet to meet. The dark-skinned woman with long dreadlocks, like Daryl Dixon, did not really look like a cop, but she had intense, calculating eyes that rivaled his. She didn't say a word as she walked to stand in the corner of the room underneath the camera, but her partner left out a long, loud sigh as he took the seat across from her.
He looked exhausted, Sovay noticed, and she wasn't really surprised. There was a murderer loose in his town after all.
He spent a good minute scanning her face for any clues into her thoughts, but she knew that her face was just as inquisitive as his, attempting to share nothing but find everything. The hair at the back of her neck prickled knowing that there were more than just the two pairs of eyes that she could see watching her. Another sigh brought her focus back to the man seated across from her as he opened his mouth to ask her a question.
"Do you want a lawyer?" he asked. She shook her head and he continued. "How did you know that Amy would be at the quarry?"
She blinked before giving him an answer. "I didn't."
He sighed again, the long week he'd had already making him lose his patience. "Then why did you lead Detective Dixon there?"
She rolled her eyes at the man, knowing that he already knew that that's not what happened. "I told Dixon that she was probably near some quiet, outlying body of water. Like a pond, or a lake like the one from the first victim. Somewhere shocking. He came up with the quarry."
"What lead you to think it would be another body of water? Eliza Morales was found behind a gas station outside of town." This from the woman in the corner who finally decided to speak.
Sovay turned her attention away from Grimes and placed it on the woman, intent of answering her directly. "It's the same pattern from Louisville. Remote body of water, near the shore. Behind a local business. Remote body of water, in the water. Next will be in front or inside of a business. Then you'll have to drag the rivers and lakes, he'll weigh her down in the water. In a park or a neighborhood. Another in the water, probably a pool or somewhere popular. In someone's front lawn, probably your own, he loves mocking people. In front of the police station but soaking wet like she had been in water. And then…well then Kelsey was killed and left in our dorm room." She paused for a moment letting her words sink in. "Can we get rid of the cuffs? They're very annoying."
"No," Rick said, not missing a beat.
"You just listed 10 locations," the woman in the corner commented. "I thought there were 11 victims."
"There were," she stated, eyes falling to the tabletop in front of her, as she lost some of her nerve. Her eyes lifted to the man across from her, and Sovay told him, instead of the woman who asked the question. "One of the girls was five and a half months pregnant." They knew this of course, she was sure, but they were testing her. Trying to get her to slip up and say something incriminating.
There was a pause in the room before Rick started talking again. "Where were you after left the bar last night."
Again, answering questions they probably already knew the answers to. "I went out back in the alley to get some air. I talked to Dixon for a few minutes during his smoke break, and then I went inside, said my goodbyes and headed back to Dale's. It was probably…10? 10:30?"
"Why so early?"
"I don't like staying out too late anymore. I'm sure you've noticed, there's a killer in town," she replied flatly.
"And you just went back to your room, alone?" the woman questioned. "Didn't take someone from the bar back with you, didn't go anywhere else?"
Sovay rolled her eyes at this one. "Like I said. Killer. This town. I'm not about to pick someone up. Not to mention that I have a horrible track record when it comes to my dating life." She hesitated before continuing but decided that it was fair game. "If you want to know about who was taking someone home from the bar talk to your buddy Daryl. Or Andrea, I guess, since it's her home. Well, her grandfather's home. Business. Hotel. You know what I mean."
It was like she could feel the collective eyeroll from everyone present, including the one's she couldn't see.
Just as the detective across from her opened his mouth to either ask her another question, or tell her to stay on topic, there was a commotion from the other side of the glass. All three occupants of the room turned their heads towards the noise in surprise, the woman in the corner raising an eyebrow as the sounds grew closer, and a very angry blonde woman burst into the room. She quickly scanned the room before her gaze fell on Sovay and she screamed, "YOU!" and then lunged towards the cuffed girl. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER!?"
The same time that Andrea started towards Sovay everyone else in the room moved as well. Rick jumped up to hold the irate woman back as Maggie, Daryl and another man rushed in behind her. Sovay jumped out of her chair and backed away as best as she could, and Michonne finally moved out of the corner to stand protectively in front of the young woman.
Grimes was trying to calm the flailing woman down but she continued to yell, demanding answers, as both he and Maggie tried to get her out of the room. Until Sovay spoke up. "I didn't do anything."
It seemed as Andrea lost her fight with that statement, at least the physical manifestation of it. She glared daggers at the woman as if there weren't 2 people standing between them. "You are a liar. You were the last person who saw Amy last night. You weren't even there when I left and you know nothing about me. You killed my sister. You murdered her and left her in that lake," she finished off with a sob.
The room went quiet at the blonde woman's exclamation and Sovay took the opportunity to look around the room. Mostly at the stern, clean-cut, politican-y looking man that certainly couldn't be her public defense attorney. She also noticed that Andrea's left hand was shinier that it was last night. Ahhh, she thought, this must be the fiance. She couldn't help herself. She really couldn't. "Let me just clarify," Sovay started with a grin on her face. "Are you more upset that your sister is dead, or that you boyfriend over there," she motioned towards the man as best as she could with the cuffs still on, "now knows about you going home from a bar with someone else?"
Andrea lunged again, and this time Rick, Maggie and Michonne practically had to draw her out of the room screaming, fiancee following behind after giving Sovay a scary look. Daryl stayed behind and shut the door as soon as they were gone crossing his arms and staring her down. Sovay used her foot to right her chair that had tripped over when she stood earlier and sat back down, Dixon watching her every move with hawk eyes.
"Was that necessary?"
Her eyes flicked up to his and she shrugged. "Gotta get the upper hand while you can, right?"
The door opened once again and Rick Grimes walked back in, alone this time. When Daryl moved to walk out the door his partner put a hand up stopping him. "Michonne's got it."
Probably don't want him and the boyfriend in the same room, Sovay thought to herself.
Daryl took up Michonne's place in the corner of the room, along with her stance and calculating eyes. Rick sat down in the chair he occupied before, and sighed, running a hand across his mouth before speaking. "Was that absolutely necessary?" she was asked for the second time.
Daryl grunted from the corner but that was the only response that was given.
Rick sighed again but continued on. "I'm just going to ask you straight, because I don't have the time and I'm running out of patience, here. Did you kill Amy Harris?"
And Sovay answered him in the most straight-foward way she could. "Nope."
"Did you kill Eliza Morales or Sofia Peletier?"
"Nope."
"Do you know who did?"
"Yes and no," she answered shrugging.
"The Butcher?"
"Yes."
He sighed for the umpteenth time. Dude really needs a break, she thought. "But you have no idea who that is," he said as more of a statement rather than a question.
"Oh I have an idea," she expressed, "just not one that is going to be at all helpful."
The two people sitting at the table stared each other down. Sovay could also feel the pair of eyes from the corner watching her, but she refused to give in and look away from the man across from her.
"So far your stories have checked out, but I still think there are some things you're hiding from us Ms. Martin. I'm not charging you with anything right now but I can still hold you for 48 hours." He looked away from her finally and nodded to the man in the corner, as he stood up from the table to leave the room.
Dixon moved towards her as if to help her up from the table and escort her, she would assume, to wherever they were going to hold her for the next two days. "Where's Sam?" she asked before her interrogator left the room.
He looked over his shoulder at her, and she could tell that the patience he spoke of earlier was tapped out. "Good question."
Sovay walked down the sparsely lit hall with who could arguably be her best friend and worst enemy at the moment. Friend, because so far, he's accepted everything she's told he with little to no outward questions. Enemy, because, for whatever reason, she's found herself wanting to tell him these things. Which could up up being very, very dangerous.
So when they reached the cage that would be her home for the next few days, and he locked her in and motioned for her to turn around so he could unlock the cuffs without a single word, she felt the need to say something to him. "Sam—he's probably with Beth, or something," she said, turning around to face him.
He looked at her with a blank face, but she could see through his eyes that he was debating on whether or not to tell her something. Eventually one side won out. "Tha' was tha firs' place we look'd."
Her brow furrowed. She'd only been in town for a few days but it seemed like those two were always together. So it was strange to hear that they weren't. "But she's alright?" she asked with genuine concern. Despite the little blonde being very on what seemed like all the time, she and her family had already wormed a place into her heart. A place normally only reserved for her parents and Sam, so she was both irritated and mystified that it happened, but it did.
"Ya, she's fi'ne. Hershel's lock'd 'er up 'n tha house."
"Good," she said and she meant it.
He looked at her differently then, similar to the way he had at the dinner table what seemed like ages ago. Eyes boring into her like he was trying o read her mind, to truly figure her out. It was unnerving. So she did what she could to get him to stop, what she did best: ask inappropriate questions.
"Was she like the others?" He blinked like he was coming out of a daze, so she expanded on her inquiry. "Amy," she clarified, "was she…cut like the others."
Daryl's eyes narrowed in on her doing the exact opposite thing that she had intended. Great. "'Ow'd ya kno' 'bout tha'?" he asked, and she gave him a puzzled look before he continued. "Firs' meetin' with Rick ya mention'd it. Bu' tha's not sumthin' that was e'vr told ta tha papers. Not 'ere, not L'llville. How'd ya kno'?"
She froze realizing her mistake, eyes going wide. Clearly she had admitted to knowing something that she wasn't supposed to know. When she took too long to answer him he went on. "Ya friend in L'llville, was'n' cut up li' tha others. Wha' makes ya th'nk 'e did 'er too?"
Damn him, she thought. She hated thinking about that night. The night that ruined her life in more ways than one. She looked down, not being able to look at him as she spoke though she could feel his eyes on her. "Kelsey wasn't—" she started, "I interrupted him. I wasn't supposed to be back in the room for a few more hours."
"'N ya shot at 'im?" She nodded. "Don't essplain why ya kno' they git cut up, put ba'k tageth'er wrong."
She turned away from him then and paced the small space she was given, silently freaking out, trying to decide how to tell him without exposing herself more. An impossible task it'd seem. At that conclusion and huffed out a breath of air and turned to face him once again.
"You have photos from the crime scenes, right? All of them?" He nodded. "So you know what the cuts look like. The missing piece."
She doesn't even wait for him to answer, just turns away before she can see…anything…on his face, and starts pacing again. But she misses the way his brow furrows before his eyes go big in realization. "I thought maybe, maybe the killings in Louisville were just a coincidence, Rebecca Daniels was just a coincidence." She took in a heavy breath. "But then the night Kelsey died, after I shot him and he got away, I saw it. On her. Just like—" Sovay was completely turned away from him then, but looked over her shoulder before clenching her fists and then reaching to lift up her shirt.
She could feel him, once again, looking at her, looking at the spot, long since healed, that Richard Cassidy had left on her body years ago. A two-by-three inch piece of skin just missing.
She was trembling now, letting him look at her most vulnerable place, and his gaze felt like fire.. "I didn't tell you partner everything, about what he said to me that night, or before. He said—he," she took in another gulp of air. "He said 'I'll be back for you, slut. Maybe then I'll cut you to pieces.'" She started rambling then. "And then I—I just had to know. If they all had it. Like me. I broke into a conference room when they brought me in for questioning and I saw all the pictures. Of what he did to them. The missing piece. Did you know that he does that while they're still alive? Rapes them, and then skins them before killing them and—" She finally dropped her shirt back down after letting him have a good long look, but couldn't find it in herself to turn back to face him. "He takes a trophy. He has one of me too."
Sovay took in a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders, and she turned to face the detective but kept her eyes to the ground. "When they brought me to the station after Kelsey died, they left me alone and I—I broke into an office, er, conference room. There were pictures everywhere, of the girls. Of this," she said motioning towards her back. "That's when I knew." Her eyes flicked up to his as she took in another shaky breath. "When the found me in there they were pissed, said I compromised evidence. Some of it went missing and they thought I did it. That's why I was a suspect. But I didn't take anything and—" Sovay paused to shake her head and she looked down. "The only reason I found that room is because it was right next to the one they put me in. You needed a keycard but it was unlocked, the door was cracked open."
Her eyes met his again, hoping that he would pick up the meaning of what she said next. "That room was on the top floor of a 4-story building. There're officers all over the building and the only way onto the top floor is through a checked desk once you step off the elevator, and a code-locked gate. You have to either be with an officer, or be an officer. And I was the only civilian up there that day."
The weight of her words sunk in and both of them stood frozen in place.
Shit, he thought, no wonder she's so jumpy around cops. The Butcher was one of them.