01.02 - Poison Pill
There's a drug theft at a marijuana dispensary, but is the Mary Jane the target after all?
As a reminder, due to chapter length and plot complexity, updates are not going to be weekly ... It's possibly going to every two or three weeks. For info about the thing and scheduling, go to DOTcom/chapsticklez but right now I'm trying to sort out how often I can post these long chapters.
That was not who Gail expected to see at the Penny. But, walking in with John and Steve, they all three paused at the sight of Olivia Best standing at the bar, talking to Vivian.
"When the hell did they get old enough to drink?" Steve, clearly feeling his age, grumbled.
"This will not end well," noted John.
"I need a drink," Gail decided, and pushed through her partner-cum-sergeant and brother to get to their regular table, where Traci sat. "How long has the standoff been going on?" She raised a hand to the bartender who nodded. Her regular drink was on its way.
Traci sipped her wine. "About ten minutes. Vivian's very good about not moving her lips much."
Part of Gail was pleased to see her daughter being aware she was being spied on. Gail watched her daughter shake her head firmly. "I thought Liv was still in Montréal."
"Noelle told me she got back today. Landed some amazing grad program in San Diego she transfers to UCSD this fall." Traci glanced over and shook her head a little.
That made some sense. "So she's come by to say hey and screw with Viv," grumbled Steve as he sat down, Gail's drink in hand. As always, he was his niece's staunch defender.
"Steve. Come on. It's a huge thing." Gail sipped her beer.
The two had not broken up well, and really it was Vivian's fault. They'd done long distance alright for the first part of the year, all the way up to Christmas. Then, for spring break, Vivian drove out to see Olivia, and that was where it went to hell.
Very clearly, Gail remembered the eventual arrival of a child who had not slept more than five hours in six days. The weird texts from Olivia had confused everyone. Then Vivian came home and slept for over 24 hours, becoming sullen and withdrawn, blaming Gail for things, and crying.
All because her kid couldn't sleep over at someone else's place.
Nothing made Gail angrier than knowing the world had done that to her baby girl. The fact that Vivian's own father had left her with a fear that something horrible would happen if she wasn't home was agonizing. And there was nothing Gail could do to make it better.
Worst of all, for Viv and Liv's relationship, Vivian wouldn't (or couldn't) tell her best friend why she wasn't able to sleep. Apparently exhaustion kicked in after three days and Vivian slept enough to be safe to drive home. But that shattered their dating life, and to some degree their friendship as well.
Her poor kid.
Gail didn't blame Olivia for much of it. They were eighteen and stupid. Of course, the fact that they hadn't hooked up from time to time after in the summers impressed Gail a little. Hadn't she done that with Nick? It would have convenient, but it did tend to stifle emotional growth a little. For all Vivian was disturbingly mature, she had her blind spots, and relationships were definitely one. But you couldn't live everything for your kid. At least that aspect of her daughter's 'love life' wasn't totally screwed up. It probably helped that Vivian did move on and date a few girls, like Skye and Pia.
"How bad was their breakup?" John eased into the seat beside Gail and handed over her drink.
"Weird. Not as nasty as me and Nick, or me and Holly... Or me and Chris." Gail eyed her partner. "Shut up."
"Fine. I just like your kid. She's... You know sometimes I look at her and I think maybe I shoulda had kids."
"You're a good uncle," she mused.
John lifted his glass. "Thank you."
They watched Vivian shake her head and go back to the table with her fellow rookies. Olivia stayed at the bar for a moment before turning around to go. "Fuck that," sighed Gail. She raised her voice. "Hey, short stuff. Not gonna say hi?"
Olivia started. "Aunt Gail!" With a momentary glance back to Vivian, who had her back to the bar, Liv crossed the room and smiled. "I didn't think you'd be here."
"We closed a good case today." Gail gestured at a seat.
"Better not. Don't want to make Viv's day absolute ass."
Well. That was promising. "How long you in town for?"
"Few months. I have a lot to do before I move into my new place."
"Hell of a move," remarked Steve. "You're going to be awesome, Little Best."
Olivia blushed. "Thanks. I should go, though." She hesitated and Gail nodded.
"I need some air. Come on, kid." She put her beer down and walked with Olivia outside. This would be the perfect moment to light a cigarette. No one smoked anymore. "So?"
The rambunctious teenager Gail had watched grow up hunched her shoulders. "How's Viv really doing?"
Gail arched her eyebrows. "Real good. Great. She pulled a collar, first day out." The last Peck to do that had been Elaine, really, and she hadn't been a Peck back then. "She's still not talking to you?"
"Not much, no."
"Waylaying her at the Penny might not have been the best thing."
Liv sighed. "I know. But it was that or your house, and I kinda think that's worse."
Alright, she had a point. "She's not mad at you, Liv."
"Oh. I know. I just miss my friend, Viv. You know? I wish I could talk to her like we used to."
The two used to be up all night on the phone, until Holly threatened to install a cell phone blocker. And here was Olivia, moving across the continent to a new job and a new life. She was probably scared to death. "I'll talk to her," sighed Gail.
Liv nodded. "Just. Just tell her I want to be friends?"
They hadn't really been friends since they broke up, though. Vivian was more like Holly in that regard. The secret to Gail's ability to remain friends with her ex's was that she just didn't care if they were annoyed with her. It was about the same as dating them frankly.
"Sure," promised Gail. "How you getting home?"
"Taxi." Olivia hesitated and then gave Gail a quick hug before walking off.
Ugh, kids. Maybe Holly would have some ideas on how to approach it.
Vivian hated shitty days.
Days like that, the crap days where you wanted to just go back to bed and be ten and have your moms bring you breakfast and maybe play Mario Kart, those shitty days always started with idiots like Rich being a dick.
They were stationed together in a van, doing surveillance on a drug drop. It was a wired site with rookies and young cops standing point. All they had to do was sit in a van and alert the actual cops to anyone suspicious. Because a windowless van wasn't weird at all.
Before they'd gotten in the van, Rich had started in on Viv for taking a piss. She remembered Traci's story about having to pee when she did van duty and did not want a repeat. But Rich, as the owner of a penis, had to be a total asshole when it came to Vivian being a little late to the van. So she got shit for that too.
The shittier thing was that she knew she was in the van with Rich because Christian had threatened to punch him, and Rich hit on both Jenny and Lara at the Penny. So the lesbian was safe. She just didn't like him as a person and found herself thinking uncharitable thoughts. Like 'if Rich got stabbed, maybe he'd be nicer.' Or even 'would Moms suspect me if I beaned him with my nightstick?'
Answers? No and yes. Holly always knew.
"There's a suspicious guy," muttered Rich, reaching for the radio. Vivian smacked his hand with her stick, not even looking. "Ow! Damnit!"
"Rich, if we clutter up the airwaves, we'll get dinged. Shut up. It's just a hipster going into the weed shop." Maybe he'd be less of an ass if he tried weed, thought Vivian absently.
"Yeah but-"
"Rich, seriously. Caucasian male, red-brown hair, fuck tonne of pomade and a goddamned twirled mustache. Skinny blue jeans, cuffs rolled up, black sneakers, dark shirt. Suspenders. Hip. Ster."
That shut him up for a moment. "What if they sell more than weed?"
"Not worth their license," she muttered.
The radio cracked to life. "Hanford, Peck, eyes on the black SUV. License reads charlie, tango, niner, zed, niner, papa. Copy?"
Vivian picked up the radio. "Copy, Fifteen. Gas guzzler in sight. Driver and shotgun staying with the vehicle. Backseat, both doors open. Eyes on our guy and his muscle."
"Copy, Peck. Hanford, watch the guys to the door. Peck, stay on the car."
The voice was a detective she knew from drugs. One of Chloe's minions. "Copy, sir." She shifted and studied the car, taking notes without looking down. Gail had suggested she practice that. Watch TV and take notes at the same time.
"Man, I wish we were in the building," grumbled Rich.
Inside were Lara and Christian. Jenny was back at the station. Vivian settled down on her seat. "We have a better vantage point."
Rich grumbled and they fell silent. The guys in the car were more concerned with their phones. "How long have they been in there?" Glancing at her watch, Vivian gave him the time. "Ten minutes? Crap, I need to pee."
Vindication. "Use a bottle," she grinned, evilly. She knew her smile was a Peck smile. It was that smile Gail got that made Holly roll her eyes and everyone else run in fear.
"Don't look," he ordered and Vivian gagged as she heard his zipper go down.
"Trust me, not looking." She eyed the SUV again. They were getting out. "Fifteen, driver is on the move."
The radio crackled. "Where's he going?"
"Weed shop."
There was a pause. "Say again, Peck?"
"Repeat, the driver went into the medical marijuana dispensary." Vivian was so sure there was laughter going on at Fifteen right then and she sighed. But before the detective could make a joke about how the driver needs a little Mary Jane, she and Rich heard it.
A gun.
One-two, one-two-three.
The radio crackled to life. "Shots fired!" That was Christian, scared shitless, and Vivian couldn't blame him.
The Ds were on the wire in a second. "Someone give me eyes on the shooter."
Rich grabbed the radio. "No eyes. I got the ... Uh, I got the drug dealers. They're leaving the building, no guns drawn."
That comment kicked Vivian's memory. The driver had been unarmed. The other guy in the car was shouting at him. "Holy shit, Rich!" The man tossed the radio over and Vivian thumbed it on. "Driver is unarmed, running out of the dispensary. They're all going, do we follow or-"
"Stay there." That was McNally. Oh thank god. Someone was in charge. "Peck, did the shots come from the dispensary?"
In the background, Vivian heard someone say that she couldn't know that. Except she did. It was a game Elaine liked to play. What did she see? What did she hear? She was looking at the car. The birds on the tree moved. Her eyes snapped to the dispensary. "I think so, ma'am."
"1504, they've got the good, follow the car. McNally, grab the van rooks. Channel 18."
And the radio went dead. "Are we going in?" Rich looked scared.
"Zip your fly," muttered Vivian, pulling her vest snug. Thank god they wore vests. Stories about how they didn't always wear vests, or how they didn't have cameras, came to mind. Vivian flipped her radio to 18 and checked in, quickly hearing McNally order them out of the van.
"We don't have guns, Peck," hissed Rich.
Grimly, Vivian flipped on her camera and took her baton off her belt. "Be cool, Hanford."
McNally pulled up in 1509. "Anyone else come out?" They shook their heads. "Back exit's quiet too." She tapped her radio. "Duncan, hear anything?"
"No, Boss," said the man. Vivian struggled to think of dorky, idiot, Duncan as a TO. She saw him so much growing up, at dinners with Uncle Al, that he was just a dumb cousin. "Door's chained and bolted from the outside. That ain't legal is it?"
It most certainly was not legal. McNally nodded. "Hanford, Peck, follow me." The seasoned officer pounded on the door. "This is the Police. We're coming in."
No reply. That wasn't good. McNally pushed the door open keeping to the side. They were quiet. The room was incredible open. There was barely any place to hide, but they did sweep the room. At least until Rich shrieked.
Both Andy and Vivian rushed over, Vivian holding her baton and feeling like an idiot. "Hanford, what is it?"
"They're dead!"
"They?" Andy blinked and looked down. "Well hell."
Vivian leaned over. She towered almost six inches over McNally, something Gail had gleefully pointed out when Vivian sprouted, so it was easy to look over her shoulder. Indeed, they was the right word. A man holding a gun was dead, as was a man with bullet holes in him. "Whoops."
"Peck, check the gun."
"Yes'm." She snapped her baton back to size and hooked it on her belt. Then she pulled a rubber glove out of her pocket and put it on. "Barrel's warm." She glanced at McNally who nodded. Right. Checking the pulse of each man, she shook her head. "Dead. Recently."
Rich, who had started to calm down, blustered, "How the hell can you know that?"
But McNally just nodded. Of course she knew why Vivian knew more about dead bodies. "You good sticking with them while Soprano and I clear the store?"
Vivian smiled. "Yeah, I'm good, McNally."
She didn't touch the bodies any more, carefully taking off her glove and folding it in on itself. Her talk at the academy had been on medical jurisprudence, making Gail laugh hysterically, but really growing up with Holly meant know one knew the sanctity of a crime scene better. And concentrating on that was a hell of a lot better than thinking about how Liv wanted to talk.
They cleared the rest of the scene and called in forensics, which took up the rest of the day. By the time they got done, it was well after lunch so Andy let them pick a place for lunch. Waiting in line for 'the best gyros ever, according to Oliver,' Vivian pulled out her phone and eyed the messages.
"Don't you have a smart watch?" Rich held out a bottle of vitamin water.
"I do," confirmed Vivian, absently checking the purely functional watch she wore. It was from Gail's ten-year ceremony. And it was almost two pm. She texted Holly to tell her about the case.
"Why aren't you wearing it?"
Vivian looked up. "Why don't I wear an expensive half-toy watch while in uniform? Why don't I wear earrings or a necklace?"
Predictably, Rich didn't get it. "You and Christian have the same watch as McNally."
Okay, so he was a little perceptive. "Popular watch," she shrugged, deferring the question. Christian wore Chris Diaz's watch, which had been Vivian's idea. She thought he might want something to remember the man by.
"You're just full of secrets, Peck," muttered Rich.
Smiling, Vivian room the box of food from the clerk. "Thanks." She slipped him a tip and headed back to the van.
At the station, they ate with Andy and Duncan, both of whom were happy to chat about the case. The autopsy would be tomorrow and the techs had the guns, but right now they had a theory that the guy with the gun shot the owner, and then... Something killed him. Which Andy joked wasn't a theory as much as a fact with little information.
"What about the guys we were supposed to be watching? Anton Hill's people?" Rich swirled a fry in the tzitziki sauce. "They saw what went down."
"The driver?" Andy nodded. "Yeah. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?" She shook her head. "They got away."
Vivian sighed. Who told her police work was glamorous?
Glancing at the names on the report, Holly did a double take. Peck, V. It was officially weird and disconcerting. She looked at the other names and felt a little better. McNally and Moore, or as Gail still called them after decades, the Fuck Up Twins. Ugh. Where was Nick? Having him TO their baby girl was ... Well it was a little better. Not much.
Her watch buzzed and Holly glanced at the message from her daughter.
Found two DBs! Medical Jurisprudence!
Holly snorted a laugh. That was her kid alright. Shaking her head, Holly read the preliminary field report. They'd heard shots fired, cleared the scene, found two dead bodies. One shot, one mystery. Well that was interesting.
The case was in the hands of Wanda, her erstwhile cougar hunting pathologist, but one of the fun things about being the boss was that Holly could go down and check out whatever anyone was working on. And today that meant she was going to see what this mystery death was all about. "Katie, I'll be downstairs," she told her secretary.
"Anything interesting?" Katie had been the downstairs secretary for years. When Holly made assistant ME, she brought Katie along. Sadly Katie was planning to move to Manitoba soon.
"GSW and a mystery."
"Oh, and you love a good mystery, boss," smiled the woman behind the desk. "I'll take messages unless it's important."
"Thank you very much," sang Holly and she took the elevators down.
Wanda was still going over the papers when Holly arrived. "Hey, Boss. Here for the mystery?"
Grinning, Holly shrugged. "I love me a good mystery. Is ballistics running the bullet?"
"Yep. Caliber and type match. Marco'll have the full results tomorrow." Wanda didn't bother to ask if Holly wanted to see the bodies, she just kicked away from her desk and went with Holly to the morgue. "Will the rookies come down for the autopsy?"
"Probably. It's about time." Holly watched Wanda pull out the first body. "McNally's the TO in charge of this case, I'll suggest it to her." They looked at the gunshots. "Huh. That's interesting."
"Yeah, close range. There's stippling."
Holly leaned in and sniffed. "Whoooof. That's a lot of weed."
"ID says he ran the shop," noted Wanda, and she pulled open the second one. "This guy, though. No idea, no info, prints were a negative."
Zipping up the owner and tucking him away, Holly eyed the mystery man. "You swab his mouth? That could be bile."
"Cop on the scene didn't mention it." Wanda held up her iPad.
Holly had skimmed the report, but she didn't have Gail's recall ability. "We don't have their reports yet."
And Wanda snorted. "We have two. McNally and Peck put theirs in already."
"Peck," laughed Holly. "Okay, what did my kid say?"
Wanda edited as she read, "She checked the gun and the pulse. John Doe was face down holding the gun, which was warm. No blood pool, no wet... Hey, she took a photo."
It was impossible not to grin. "Decent photo."
"How the hell is she a cop?" Wanda shook her head. "Wasn't it just yesterday I met her after embarrassing the hell out of myself?"
Now it was funny. Then it had been awkward as fuck. "No, yesterday she was seven and sleeping on the couch with Gail," sighed Holly. "Of course, I was also in my forties."
Wanda grinned. "Can't have everything. I was going to check him out tomorrow."
"That's good." They set up the time and Holly pulled out her phone to call Dov, suggesting he let the rookies come down for an autopsy. "They found them, after all."
The sergeant laughed. "Didn't Duncan pass out?"
"Maybe," grinned Holly.
"Are you doing the autopsy?"
"No, Dr. Ury is. I think it might be inappropriate to do the first one for my own kid."
Dov made a thoughtful sound. "Okay, they'll get Duncan, though. I need Andy to find our witness."
"That would be good," agreed Holly. That was quickly sorted, and Holly texted Gail to warn her about baby's first autopsy. She remembered to tell Gail that she wasn't allowed to come.
You're no fun.
Holly laughed as she went back to the elevator, texting Gail that she was incredibly fun. Her wife replied that Holly was annoying. But then Gail had an idea.
$20 says the Monkey asks us about drugs.
Interesting idea. Holly thumbed her reply.
By the end of the case.
Gail one upped her.
Please. Tonight.
That was a deal, and Holly sent the shaking hands emoji.
As Vivian pulled out plates that night, of course she asked, "Moms, have you done drugs?"
Without looking, Gail held out a hand to Holly. "Pay up."
Holly rolled her eyes. Of course Gail had put money that Vivian would ask about it before the day was over. And there they were. "I'll pay you later. Yes, Viv."
That surprised their daughter. "Wait, really?"
"How did I end up with a prude for a daughter?" Gail shook her head. "I smoked out a couple times."
Vivian grimaced. "Not weed. That's barely a drug, Moms."
Holly sighed and looked at Gail, beseechingly. Normally Gail might say Holly was on her own for explaining that one, but she smiled. "Well. Did you blaze up, kiddo?"
"Yes," she sassed at Gail. "Liv and Matty and I tried it. Once. I didn't like it."
"Me neither," admitted Gail. "And I sure as hell am not trying it now, but apparently I've always been a little susceptible to drugs." She sighed dramatically. "At least I can drink."
"Which you barely do." Holly grinned and sliced the bread.
"You're totally avoiding the question. Okay, I want to guess." Vivian closed her eyes. "Shrooms."
Holly threw her hands up. "How the hell did you teach her that, Gail?"
Smiling, Gail shook her head. "Didn't do it. Really? You did shrooms?"
Narrowing her eyes, Holly asked, "What's the statue of limitations on this?"
"I give you my word I won't press charges on my wife. That bed sucks alone." Gail held up her hand in a Boy Scout salute and cleared her throat. A moment later, Vivian mimicked the pose.
Holly sighed. "Fine. It was in college. I got paranoid and locked myself in a closet. Happy?"
Of course Gail teased her, "You sure that wasn't on weed?"
"Fuck you, Peck," snapped Holly. "You're not funny." But Gail's hands were on her hips, drawing her close. "I'm annoyed with you," she said softly. "You're not getting out of this by being cute." But Gail's lips were soft on her own. It was hard to be annoyed when she was being sweet.
"Sorry," whispered Gail, sincerely. "Monkey, no more asking Mom about her life as an addict. Also, Steve told you to lay off the case."
"I was thinking about the John Doe shooter, actually," admitted Vivian.
Holly pointed at Gail. "Did you tell her?"
But Gail's hands went up and Vivian looked confused. "Tell me what?"
Glaring at her wife without any malice, Holly kissed her cheek. "You and that frat boy get to see an autopsy tomorrow."
To her credit, Vivian just nodded. "I'm still sorry," she muttered and went to get the salad.
At sixteen, Vivian convinced one of the lab techs that letting her into the morgue was allowed since she was Holly's daughter. Then the girl filched a lab coat and snuck into an autopsy Rodney was performing for med students and sat in the back watching. Rodney had hauled her out as soon as he noticed her and called Holly. The tech had an ear full from it, as did Vivian, who only had the argument of "But Elaine said Mom and Steve saw one at my age!"
"You're still lucky Rodney decided not to file charges," noted Gail, amused. She had actually been fine if he had, but Holly asked Rodney to let her do unofficial community service. For two months, after school, Vivian helped do scut work at the lab. Then Rodney let her watch a real autopsy, after Gail and Holly signed papers allowing it.
That had been back when Holly had hope their kid would go into sciences and not policing. "I know," Viv sighed. "And I didn't tell anyone."
"I know," noted Holly. "Rodney said you just called him Dr. Frang the whole time he gave your class the lecture." No one called Rodney by his last name.
"So... Is it gauche to ask which autopsy?" Vivian looked a little sheepish.
Gail rolled her eyes and put the beef on their plates. Seared beef with a Peruvian purple potato salad with butter beans, something Gail had seen on a cooking show and decided to try. "Mystery guy. The gunshot's pretty cut and dried, I suspect."
Vivian made a 'huh' noise. "The driver wasn't armed when he went in."
"You sure about that?" Gail was rather conversational but Holly blinked. Her kid had seen this all go down?
"Yes, positive. He was in a tight shirt and hipster skinny jeans... Which I guess explains why he went into the store in the first place." She looked amused. "Who does that? Middle of your boss negotiating a massive drug deal, you go to buy your prescription weed?"
Gail laughed. "He's an idiot, too. We'll get him on camera and match the receipts."
"Ah crap, I know what I'm doing tomorrow," groaned Vivian.
"Rookies do scut work," smirked Gail, ruffling Viv's hair. "Right. Let's eat! This smells way too good!"
The current rule was no shop talk at dinner. That started in order to not bring up things in front of Vivian as a child. Now it existed to stop pissing off Holly and remind Gail to turn off the Peck. It was just so easy for Gail, even now, to be that Peck.
So dinner turned to sports. Basketball, since it was spring, was on Vivian's mind, as well as hockey. Gail, who could care less, just smiled as she watched them talk. They talked about the news as well, something Gail joined in on more than Holly, and had most of a quiet, normal night. Except for Vivian's phone.
"You going to get that?" Holly gestured at her daughter's watch, which was blinking again.
"Not right now," replied the young girl.
Gail looked thoughtful. "It's okay to still be mad about it."
It? Holly eyed her wife. "Spill."
But Vivian answered. "It's Olivia. She's in town for a couple months before she moves to San Diego."
Holly blinked. "San Diego? One of you better unpack."
Gail cleared her throat, "She got the Salk scholarship. Liv's transferring to UCSD to study there, and she's got an in on a fellowship at Scrips when it's done."
"And she came by the Penny last night to say hello. She wants to be friends like we were." Vivian's eyes didn't leave her plate as she spoke. "Which is why she's been texting me."
Ah. "Gail," sighed Holly, turning to her wife. She didn't have to say it. She knew Gail understood that not everyone were friends after breaking up.
"Mom talked to her at the Penny," pointed out Vivian. It was non-accusatory. Just a statement. Clearly Vivian was conflicted.
Holly chewed on some of the meat. "Well. Do you still have feelings for her?" Her daughter shook her head.
On the other hand, Gail looked surprised. "You're ... You're just gonna ask her like that?"
"She's not a child," muttered Holly. "And even when she was, we didn't shy around that."
"She's sitting right here." Vivian sounded morose. "She's still living here. She's probably always gonna live here." And she didn't want to talk to Liv about why she still lived at home, it seemed.
"You stayed at the Academy okay," said Gail softly.
"Mostly." Vivian put her fork down and sighed. "It filled my head up so much..."
Holly kept eating. What did Gail always say? Lower the bar. Give her something simple she could do. "If she asks, tell her you don't want to talk about it."
Her hazel eyed child looked up, confused. "That's it? Tell her I don't want to talk about it?"
Smiling, Holly gestured with her fork. "Eat, please. You'll feel better. And yes. That's it. You tell her no, and she won't press." Vivian opened her mouth. "If she does, walk away. She'll get the idea."
"I suddenly see why none of your exes show up in our life, Lunchbox," smirked Gail.
Holly ignored her. "If Liv really wants to be your friend above all else, she'll respect that. But she's moving to another country and it's scary and she probably would like her best friend around."
Vivian snorted. "It's the States, Mom. Matty's lived in New York for years." Vivian and Olivia's best friend, Matty, had gone to design school in New York. There was a photo of him with Tim Gunn stuck to Vivian's pegboard.
"Not everyone has been to Europe four times before she was twenty," remarked Gail, surprisingly astute on this one.
And Vivian looked sheepish. "Fine. I'll text her later."
That night it was Vivian who sat on the back porch, quietly talking to her once best-friend and former girlfriend.
"You give good advice, Stewart," whispered Gail, tugging her away from the back. "So how come all your exes avoid you?"
"I break their hearts and they can't bear to see me again," mused Holly, smiling.
Gail shook her head. "They are weak, weak, women." Keeping hold of Holly's hand, she headed to the stairs. "Or I'm incredibly awesome. Probably both."
"At least I don't have to worry about your ego."
Fixing her tie, Vivian bumped the door open for the morgue while Duncan lectured them.
"You guys need to listen for a second," he said as they went inside. "See, it's our job, right, to make the city safe and not screw up. But if we do, we gotta come here. Dead people means we failed out there, get it?" They both nodded at him. "In here, the doctors and the lab geeks are the boss. They tell you to do something, do it. You ain't smarter than they are. Don't touch anything, or anyone. Treat the bodies with respect, 'cause they're, y'know, people. Human people."
Rich cleared his throat. "But they're dead."
"Still humans, Hanford. Okay? And, you know what? You guys don't speak until spoken to, okay? You're rookies but you're cops, so remember we gotta listen and learn when we're down here. Got it?"
They nodded again and Vivian grinned as Dr. Ury greeted them. "Officer Moore. And these are the witness rookies?"
"Yeah," replied Duncan, puffing up a little. Holy crap, he was flirting. "Probationary Officers Hanford and Peck. This is Dr. Ury."
Rich grinned. "Pleased to meet you."
Vivian rolled her eyes slightly, just enough that Dr. Ury noticed and smirked. "Doctor."
"Nice to meet you officers. This is your first official autopsy, so you stand back there and don't interrupt. If you have to puke, use the sink in the back." When Rich scoffed, Dr. Ury and Duncan scowled. "You think that's funny? There's no false bravado here, Officer. A man is dead. And you may think you're okay with the death, but an autopsy is a whole different kettle of fish." Dr. Ury turned to her assistant and said something else quietly.
Rich glanced at Vivian and hissed, "She serious?" When Vivian nodded, he exhaled a grunt. "What's the big deal? They're dead."
"Says the guy who shrieked like a girl when he saw them," Duncan pointed out. That was something Gail might have said, except for the 'like a girl' part. And when both Vivian and Dr. Ury glowered, Duncan back pedaled. "Not that girls ain't tough."
Surprisingly, even Rich seemed to think the sexism was crass. "It just surprised me," he muttered. "And so I shrieked, whatever. I won't pass out. You, Peck?"
Vivian just shook her head and smiled.
In the end, Rich didn't pass out. He did turn a little green when the internal organs came out and Dr. Ury asked if they wanted to see the oddity within. The lesions on the liver indicated he was using some dirty stuff, but with no trac marks, it was quite abnormal. Then Vivian asked if there were brain lesions, which she knew could indicate specific types of drugs, and Dr. Ury grinned and pulled out the saw. That was when Rich puked.
But no lesions on the brain.
They got back to the station, and no one made fun of Rich. Vivian never would and when Duncan opened his mouth to start, she cleared her throat and muttered to him that she knew. That shut him up. Holly loved the story about how Duncan had thrown up at his first four autopsies. Every time he was a jerk at a family dinner, those stories came out.
Still, Rich passed on lunch when Vivian pulled out her leftovers. "Okay, but you're not getting any of my food," she warned him, settling into the chair in the AV room.
"How can you eat?"
"Well, my mom is a fucking kick ass cook..." She loved Gail's cooking.
"I mean after the ... " He swallowed.
"Autopsy? Because I'm hungry." Vivian didn't have Gail's rather insatiable appetite or incredible metabolism. She did, on the other hand, do enough exercise for someone on ETF, so she was often very hungry too. Holly teased the hell out of both of them.
Not knowing any of that, Rich just looked at her like she was insane. "You're weird and creepy, Peck," he muttered. "What the hell are we doing?"
He wasn't asking the meaning of life, she assumed and stretched. "We are watching videos, on tape, which aren't time stamped, because the owner's an idiot. And we're looking for the driver to see if we can get him paying cash or credit, and one hopes his ID."
"Can't they check the receipts?"
"Place used a swipe on a tablet computer. We're probably waiting on a warrant."
Rich eyed her. "Warrant?"
"Yeah, they don't save that stuff on the computers locally. It's all in the cloud. And we don't have his pass-codes anyway."
"Can't computer forensics crack it?"
She looked surprised. "Not likely. Apple built their shit without back doors, which is cool for your own privacy but a fucking nightmare for us. We just know what app he used." Which was weird, when Vivian thought about it. "Wonder if he has a business partner..."
Rich started the tape. "Because this is tape and the computer shit's expensive?"
"Yeah," she grinned. "Weird, ain't it?"
"Maybe that's the dead guy."
"Like we'd get that lucky," sighed Vivian, settling into watch. The quality wasn't bad, and it was high resolution for tape. It didn't seem that he used the tapes over and over. Uncle Oliver had lamented about that once.
About an hour in, Rich muttered, "No one cares about your hemorrhoids, man. God, shut up."
Vivian pressed pause. "What the what?"
"The clerk, dead guy number one? He's been telling everyone about his ass. I mean, come on."
She stared at Rich for a long moment. "What? How the hell do you know that?"
And Rich looked embarrassed. "I ... I can read lips." His face got read and he mumbled, quickly, "My old man is deaf."
Vivian grinned. "Fucking hell, sit closer. As soon as we get this guy, you tell me what he's saying, I'll write."
Confused, Rich did and as they finally found their shooter on the video, started to narrate. "Hey, Jack, long time no see... Yeah, yeah, me too. How's the wife? ... Oh, that's too bad... I can't see what he's saying there-"
"Don't worry," muttered Vivian, watching and writing as fast as she could. Thank god she knew shorthand.
"Right... Ah, okay... My prescription expired, but I got a one time refill."
Vivian jammed the pause button. "Can you see what that says? God, why do doctors have to have such shit handwriting."
They strained and finally Vivian took a screenshot. "Press play," Rich said softly. On the video, the clerk (Jack Mancuso, they already knew that) picked it up. "Think you can do me a solid? ... I know, but we've been friends for a long time. I've got cash..."
At that point on the video, the hipster they'd seen walk into the store waltzed in. Jack held up his hand to the mystery guy, who turned to walk around the store. Shopping. "Hipster guy doesn't know him, it looks like."
"No, they're just talking about a regular prescription. Anxiety. How does weed make that better?"
"Fuck if I know." They watched the hipster leave the store with a bag of pot and then the clerk, Jack, came around to flip the sign. Vivian didn't remember seeing that happen. Maybe she couldn't see it from her position. No... She was watching the driver. "Wait... If he flipped the sign..." She rewound. The sign was flipped, the door was not locked.
"Okay, I can read Jack... Should I?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"Right. Uh. Okay... Look, Kenton? Canton? Kent? Not sure. Look Kent, we're old friends, but I can't lose my license. I gotta pay alimony."
"That explains the wife," muttered Vivian.
"Kent- yeah! His name is Kent." Rich grabbed Vivian's arm. "Kent said something and now Jack's saying... Kent, be reasonable, man." They watched Kent lift his shirt a little. "Whoa, that's Jack, not me. Whoa, that's not cool..."
Both men on the video looked up, turning from the camera. They could see their driver. "Clear shot," muttered Vivian and she took a still shot.
"Hey, man, like, I know you're out for lunch, but I gotta scrip."
They both paused and stared at the screen. "Holy crap, he's an idiot," Vivian laughed.
"No shit," Rich chortled. "Jack's asking him to come back later, Kent is saying it's fine, he'll wait. The driver is ... Oh man. Rewind, that can't be right." Rich waited while Vivian rewound. "Okay, dude says... Cool, thanks man. My boss's been working me all hours. Are you your own boss? Yeah that's cool."
The driver flashed a wad of bills and pulled out his wallet. "Kent's eyes are on the prize." Vivian made a note.
"Here's my ID... Is that his real one, you think?"
"He's a loser, so probably." Vivian pressed pause again. "I hate this video. Why does he have tape? Who the hell sells tape anymore?"
"Lots of places," said Noelle, scared the shit out of both of them. "Notes." Vivian handed them over and Noelle whistled. "How'd did you get all that?"
When Rich flushed, Vivian gestured at him, "Hanford can read lips, ma'am."
Noelle looked impressed. "Good to have him around. Where are you now?"
Vivian tapped the screen. "That guy is our driver. We think he's handing over his real ID, and he just flashed a wad of cash." Taking the third chair, Noelle nodded and Vivian cleared her throat. The notebook came back and she set herself up again. "Unless anyone can read the ID ...?" Everyone shook their head. Vivian took a screen grab again and then pressed play.
Nervous, Rich glanced at Noelle, but went on with his translations. "Uh... Yeah, that's me. I bought from the shop on Bloor last month, but he said you carry Regal Flyer, and that really does it for me." Noelle made a noise and Vivian held up a finger. If you didn't distract Rich, he did better. "Do you, like, give a discount to regulars? Cause I could be a regular."
The driver on video peeled off way more than the bill was, putting it down on the counter. Jack the dead Clerk looked up at the camera. The driver followed his gaze and said, clear enough that Vivian could read his lips, that Jack should just wipe the tapes. The man was an idiot.
"Look, remember my name, okay, Mark Arana. You be good to me, me and my boys be good to you."
And then it all went to hell. Kent pulled the gun out and jabbed it at Arana, who folded like Chloe on poker night, and all but threw the money. Jack shouted something, Rich couldn't be sure, but then Kent just shot him. There were the gunshots Vivian heard. There was the driver, Arana, grabbing his weed and the money off the ground (about the only smart thing he did) because Kent was staring at the man he'd shot, and running out. And Kent grabbed his head, walking around the counter, cursing... And then he fell over. Dead.
They watched the final scene a few more times. "Does he look more sweaty?" Vivian squinted as she asked. "Like maybe he's coming off a high and needs a fix?"
"That's not how weed works," noted Noelle, but she sounded doubtful.
"What if it's not weed," mused Rich. "I mean, street drugs are laced all the time. What if Jack was lacing things for his friends?"
Noelle clapped them both on the shoulder. "I think that's something to take to the Ds for them to run down, while you find prescriptions and receipts for Kent and Mark. Send the video to the AV geeks for a full review. Good work."
As Noelle left, Vivian dropped her pen and sighed. "What fun," she muttered and ejected the tape.
"Yeah but... we got a murder."
There was Rich, always looking on the asshat bright side. "Yeah, two people died, Rich. That's not a good day for anyone."
It was déjà vu, watching her kid go over the records. Gail smiled as she saw Vivian and Rich with their heads down, going through logs of receipts. That had never been a fun job. As she walked into Traci's office, she jerked her head, "What are they looking for?"
"They got the shooter's first name, and we got the subpoena for the credit card sales, so Peck is going those looking for anyone with a K or Kent as the first name. Hanford's going through the copies of prescriptions and photo IDs."
"Makes you glad to be old sometimes," grinned Gail.
Traci smirked. "Holly said you made growing old sound romantic."
With an evil smirk, Gail pointed out, "I have raised a minion to do the work I hate." They both laughed. "How's Leo? He hasn't come by in weeks."
"He hired a cleaning service for the loft," sighed Traci. "I think he's going to take the job in Texas."
"That doesn't make sense, he can work anywhere."
"Yeah, but it's a startup... I don't know. How did he get so smart? Dex isn't, and I'm not that smart..." She shook her head. Traci was preparing for the inevitable of her child leaving the roost.
Gail sat down in the empty chair. "We both know it's not Steve," she pointed out.
That made Traci frown. "He's still talking about it, huh?"
"So's Noelle. I'm not ready for that." Putting her boots up on Traci's desk, Gail shook her head. "Ollie threw us off."
Traci shoved the booted feet off. "Well that's up to them right now. Why are you slumming it downstairs?"
Gail pulled out her notes. As much as she did everything on the computer, she still liked the old log books. "I need the details on the Carhart case." A multiple murder case that still looked clear homicide, but...
Predictably, Traci sighed. "Best case I've had in years, and my Inspector best friend and sister in law is sniping it. Didn't you make detective after me?"
"Be better than everyone else," sighed Gail, quoting a Peck mantra. "Not taking it, by the way, just need the deets. It might be related to a serial killer TwentySeven had about five years ago."
Traci blinked a few times. "Thank you? Why are you leaving it with me?"
"What kinda question is that?" Gail was confused. "You're the best detective in five divisions, I can't prove it's a serial, and even if I do, you've got the most legwork on the case, so ... Well you may have to work with Swarek, but-"
That made Traci laugh. "Oh I get it," she chortled. "You don't want to work with Sam."
"Nick and Viv already had to." Gail shrugged. "Nick needs to get over it. He won."
Traci gave her an amused look. "How long did it take for you to get over Andy and Nick being a thing?"
Weirdly, not long. "One night with Holly," smiled Gail. Traci made a face and Gail kicked her chair. "Not that, you idiot. Remember when I burnt my wrist? Drain cleaner? Grow op? Dead guy in a barrel?"
"My first big case, sure," smiled Traci.
"Holly picked me up at the hospital. I slept in her guest room. That morning? Kinda over Andy." Because that night, a friend had reached out and stayed with her when she needed it most. And that night, Gail realized she wasn't alone.
With a sigh, Traci leaned back. "You know. That was a big day for a lot of us. Your brother's a massive scene stealer."
"Pecks."
"I'm really glad he and you stopped being so Pecky."
"He loves you," smiled Gail. "You're... What 17 years this summer?"
"Which means yoooou will be 20 next year," laughed Traci. "When are you guys going to have a ceremony?"
Gail snorted. "We did, with a judge. And I believe you and I sang at our ten." That had been fun, she had to admit. "My mom and Lily are planning 20 for us. I'm in actual fear."
"You should be. Our fifteen was crazy." Traci rolled her eyes. "How's the new grill working out?"
After their fifteenth, Gail had loaned the happy couple her cottage for a week. They had, somehow, managed to break the grill by melting cheese all over it. "I love it. Just don't make pizza on it without the stone."
They shared a smirk. "I swear it works like that at home!"
But the time for chit chat was over and they settled in to talk about the case. If it was a serial, Gail might have to take it over, but she hoped to just oversee it from afar. Sniping big cases was, historically, why people didn't like Major Cases. One of the big changes she'd made was not taking the cases but working with them as teams. It had gone over well.
So far, Traci had it all under control, which was good. Gail trusted her, and not just because they were friends. Traci really was one of the best detectives around. She was great at homicide and loved the work.
Speaking of loving her work, Gail had a wife who was a workaholic when left to run free. As she left Traci's office, she sent her wife a quick heart-beat on her watch. It was returned immediately and Gail called her.
"Hello, nurse," she quipped.
"Hello, officer," drawled Holly. "Did you hear what our kid did?"
Gail looked over where Vivian was sitting, still going over records. "Something worth punishing with reviewing records?"
"Yes," laughed Holly. "She and that new kid, Hanford, figured out that the weed was laced."
Poor Hanford's new nickname was two-times, after he puked twice at the autopsy. Thus far, the nickname hadn't spread at the station, but Vivian admitted to having threatened Gerald about it. She was a good kid. "Laced with what?"
"Opiates."
Gail blinked. "He was lacing weed with painkillers?"
"Among other things. The list is surprisingly humane, though. I asked your babies in blue to track it."
"Thus giving our little girl more work, clever. So does that mean you're free for a date tonight, Mrs. Stewart?"
Holly laughed warmly. "I could be, Mrs. Peck. Romantic dinner? Night out?"
"I was thinking more of a night in, if the kid has to work late..."
There was a little silence on the line. "I like that idea." There was a drop in Holly's voice that Gail liked as well. "Let me hand off this to the night shift. We're running all the weed in the whole place, and CSU is going over the lab in the back top to bottom."
"Fun times. Pick me up here, then. Drugs has this one under control."
"Sounds good, love you."
"Love you too, Holly," smiled Gail. She looked over at her kid and, by reflex, reached for her watch to tap her a heartbeat... But the kid wasn't wearing her smart watch. Vivian wore Gail's ten-year watch to work because it was tough, functional, and demure.
Smart kid.
Instead, Gail texted Vivian a quick message.
If you're stuck late, I'll leave you my car. Holly and I are going on a date.
She watched her daughter reach for her phone and read it. A very fast reply was tapped out.
Ew. No details. I'm only halfway done. Please don't defile our couch. Again.
Gail laughed and replied no promises, heading back to the stairs. She always took the stairs these days. It was her faint concession to the fact that she was almost fifty. Health. After her father died of a heart attack and her mother had one, Gail was more heart conscious. She hated it.
It was many hours later when the garage door finally opened and Vivian made it home. Holly was asleep, diagonal across the bed like normal, her cold feet pressed up to Gail's leg, and Gail... Well she was awake. Stupid menopause. When Holly had gone through it, the insomnia was mildly amusing and had them both awake at the same time. Gail was less enamored of it now that she had double insomnia.
The half open door to the bedroom moved and Vivian's brown head popped in. "Go to sleep, Mom," she said softly.
"Would if I could, kiddo," she sighed back. Glancing at Holly, Gail slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe. "I'm hungry. You eat?"
Vivian shook her head and they went downstairs. "Do we have to steam clean the couch?"
"No," laughed Gail, shoving her daughter's arm. They made sandwiches and sat at the kitchen island. "So how was work?"
"I hated it. Spent the whole day looking for names and credit cards."
"And did you find anything?"
"Marc Arana, with a C not a K, is an idiot and since he didn't pay for his weed, the Ds are getting a warrant. Kent's last name is Lyles, and he's been taking weed for migraines for six years. Health care won't cover it anymore, since the doctors say it's not helping."
"His clerk buddy was lacing weed with heavy duty opiates. Betcha that helped his headache," smirked Gail.
Vivian laughed. "Yikes. Mom know how he died yet?"
"They ran the blood work, but she didn't have the results when she picked me up."
"Tomorrow, maybe," sighed Vivian. She yawned. "How can you function on such little sleep, Mom? I'm beat."
"You also run a 5k every morning, you sport-o freak," smirked Gail, fondly. "Sue said you went running with ETF on Monday."
With a shrug that reminded Gail of herself, Vivian finished her food. "Just because you and Mom can't keep up with me anymore."
Gail rolled her eyes. "Brat. Why did you start doing all that?" When Vivian flushed, the memory clicked. Vivian had started all the running when she and Liv had broken up. And Liv was back in town. "Oh, right."
"I think she wants to hook up," grumbled Vivian. "She kept asking if I was single?"
"Maybe she just wants to know how you're really doing," Gail suggested. Then she asked, "How are you really doing?"
"In general? Okay. I like being a cop, Mom."
With a laugh, Gail shook her head. "I gave up on that the day you graduated. You're good, just remember you gotta walk before you can run. Okay?"
Her daughter smiled. "I know. I'm a rookie. I don't get to follow cases, I don't get to see how it all connects. I have to do the grunt work, collect pieces, follow orders, don't screw up."
Gail ruffled her hair. "It sucks."
"It doesn't," admitted Vivian, sheepishly. "There's a lot going on at once. How the hell do you keep it all straight in your head?"
"Lots of practice. Don't worry, after a few years, you'll be good at it too."
Vivian nodded, thoughtfully, and picked up the plates. "If you were me, would you... Would you hook up with Liv while she's in town?"
Ouch. "At your age? Probably. At my age, I think you'll just end up with heartache."
"That sounded like the voice of experience," mused Vivian.
"That it is," Gail confirmed. "If you can do it without getting your heart stomped on or getting in too deep, hey, have sex. It's fun."
Vivian laughed softly. "I don't think I can do that," she admitted.
"So be friends." Gail smiled at her kid. "What happened to that cute computer girl you went out with when you were in the academy?"
The rookie blinked. "Oh. She wanted an open relationship, after we went out like twice. Which no."
Gail made a face. "You have your mom's luck in women." She stood up and slung an arm over Vivian's shoulders. "I trust you to know yourself, kiddo. Do what's right for you."
"Way to set a high bar, Mom," groaned Vivian.
Exhaustion hangovers were worse than alcohol ones, Vivian decided. Making it worse, she'd promised to do sprints at the park with the ETF guys, which meant they would never let her live it down if she didn't show up.
But there was an angel in her life. A cup of coffee was handed to her as she and Rich walked into the lab with McNally. "Oh my god, LaFaire. I love you," she announced, sucking down half.
"A little birdie picked some up and said to please treat you."
Vivian closed her eyes and sighed. "I love her too."
McNally snorted. "You are just like your mother."
"Thanks, McNally," smiled Vivian. "I work hard at it."
Rich narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell is your mom anyway?"
Both McNally and LaFaire laughed, but neither explained. "Someone who loves me very much, Richie."
Leading them into the lab, LaFaire explained why they were there. "So, you guys spotted Lyles' sweats on the video? Turns out that the store was lacing weed for special customers."
"With opiates, right?" Vivian realized, as soon as she said it, that the caffeine was rushing through her. Clearly Holly got her a triple shot. She mumbled a sorry and pressed her lips tight as McNally glared.
LaFaire smiled, though. "Fentanyl, too." And he rattled off a list of side effects. "Lyles was addicted. And he had bone cancer."
Bone cancer? Vivian blinked. McNally whistled. "So he was getting marijuana for headaches and he had cancer? Why did his insurance cancel his script?"
"That's for you guys. The cancer wasn't on his record."
With a glance at McNally, Vivian pulled out her logbook and started taking notes. The batches of pain killers were prescription quality and the lab had a match to the legit scripts provided to various pharmacies. Which meant more work for the two grunts. Track down the pharmacies. Try to make some connections, or give the Ds enough to make connections.
When they got back to the station, Vivian was unsurprised that they were back on computers. She, who was better with them thanks to years of lessons from Uncle Dov and crew, had the job of narrowing search queries and sorting results. Parse the data. Meanwhile, Rich went over more receipts, sorting out who got what brand in an effort to figure out what strains of weed got laced.
"Peck, can you box?" That was Lara.
"I'm a runner, not a boxer." Vivian pressed the heels of her palms to her eye sockets. "Rich, please tell me you have something?"
"Our dealer is an idiot who puts the same mark on receipts for laced pot."
Vivian took one hand off and stared at him. "Are you kidding me?" But Rich held up a paper with a smiling rainbow on it. And then another. "Are criminals all stupid?" All these years, she thought Gail had exaggerated.
"Do they know what the guy died of?" Lara leaned over to look at the papers.
"Cardiac arrest. He was hooked on Fentanyl," sighed Vivian. "Near as we can figure out, Jack fed it to him to help ease the pain for a little extra cash. Kent got hooked. Ran out of cash, lost his coverage since he was lying about the headaches, tried to rob Jack... Stress of shooting his friend gave him a heart attack. Boom. Dead."
Lara stared at her. "Rich, she's more chatty about cases, isn't she?"
He nodded. "Can't figure out why her mom sent her coffee to the lab, but case theory? She's practically normal."
"Just for that, I'm not helping you find a boxer."
Pouting, Lara sat down. "But its for Fite Nite. Fifteen hasn't won for years!"
"Over twenty," sighed Vivian. Not since Nick lost. It was a record Fifteen was ashamed of.
"Seriously, Peck." Lara looked desperate. "Hanford..."
Rich shook his head. "I'm a gun guy."
Lara groaned. "I am screwed."
"Why don't you fight?" Vivian picked up her water.
"The sergeant said I sucked."
Vivian smiled. "Well. You're in luck."
Frowning, Rich looked confused. "Because Jenny-"
"God, no." Both Vivian and Lara laughed. "Christian actually was on the boxing team in school."
Lara brightened. "Seriously?"
"Truth." Vivian closed her eyes. "Rich, is all that in the database yet?"
"Yeah, I've been entering it as I go. Why?"
"I'm gonna cross reference." Sitting up, Vivian tapped into the computer. "Match the lace marked receipts to the buyers. Check the brands they bought to the batches. It'd be a waste to lace multiple batches, right, so you gotta make sure everyone gets the same scrips. Means the docs are in on it. Then we dump that on the Ds and get rewarded."
Rich laughed. "Yeah? What reward do we get?"
"Another job."
"Is it a Peck thing to make my lab cry?" Holly glowered at her daughter, who froze while she held her fork up to her mouth. "Because you and your cross checking laced weed meant they had to re-run a tonne of tests to find the right batch."
Vivian's hazel eyes sharpened. "I was right?"
God, she was just like Gail sometimes. "I really hoped that summer you spent in the lab would have given you more respect for the work they do."
Chagrined, Vivian ate her salad. "You know I do, Mom."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," admonished Holly. "Where is your mother?"
"She complained I gave her more work, too, and went back to the Division. I made skirt steak salad. With avocado and the raspberry vinaigrette."
Holly eyed the food. "You are an very good child, Vivian."
"God knows how." With a smile, Vivian pointed out, "I was raised by wolves."
"Lesbians. Same thing." Her daughter was a good cook, though. Holly made a plate and joined her at the couch where the news was on. "You are very strange, you know."
"What's wrong with liking the news?"
"As an adult? Nothing. At six, it was weird."
"Why be normal?" Vivian smiled. "So besides me pissing off your lab, anything cool happen?"
"Nothing on your cases. Lisa and Kate finally bought a condo together." Lisa had been all but living at Kate's for almost ten years, but refused to sell her own townhouse. "They picked the one with the lake view."
"Sounds perfect. Can we throw them a party?"
"You don't mind handing out with a bunch of old people?"
Vivian looked weirdly serious. "Mom, you're not old."
Holly's 57th birthday had come and gone with moderate fanfare. But she was older. "Yes, I am, honey, and it's okay. Every day I'm older is a day closer to spending most of my life with you and your mom than without."
"That sounds like something Mom would say to be weirdly romantic." Vivian smiled though. "I remember when I was twelve and realized I'd lived with you guys half my life. It's kinda cool."
"That's a little different when you're twelve," laughed Holly. "I met your mom at 35."
Looking up at the ceiling, Vivian mused, "70 is ... Okay, 70 will be old." Holly laughed and kicked her daughter's leg. "Seriously, though," she giggled. "That's like 13 years away, Mom. I'll have my ten years by then. And you can still be a medical examiner."
Her daughter did have amusing trains of thought. "No, I'm going to retire by 70. Take up gardening. Stay home and relax. Drive Gail nuts."
"Won't take long," smiled Vivian. "Maybe learn to cook?"
"You can shut up," laughed Holly.
Vivian grinned. "Hey, serious question."
"Is it about Liv?"
The joking mood with her child wavered. "No," she muttered. "Christian." Holly's eyebrows lifted. "He's boxing. Nick offered to teach him, but ..."
"But Nick got his ass handed to him... Why didn't I see that happen?"
"That was the night of the Penny Incident."
Oh. Holly sighed. "See and now I'm old. How do you know that?"
Vivian put her plate on the coffee table and stretched her arms up. "I remember all the stories, Mom. Like when Mom stopped a radio with her face, or you got knocked out by Sam... Or making out at weddings." She shrugged. "You guys are important."
She looked at her daughter thoughtfully. That Vivian memorized all the important moments from before she'd lived with them was both a move to make sure she belonged with them, but it crowded out the other memories. The therapist had warned them about that years ago. Vivian probably had a slew of repressed memories.
"You're important to us too, honey," said Holly softly.
"I know, Mom." Vivian tilted her head, looking very much like Holly knew she did sometimes. "So boxing? Because I love you, but I don't wanna talk about Liv or you thinking you're old, if that's okay."
Avoidance was okay sometimes. Holly smiled. "Let me think about it? I haven't done that for years."
"But you did, right?"
"I did... How did you know? Your mom doesn't even know." Her father had taught her to box for self defense, shortly after she'd been found out to be a lesbian.
"Grandpa told me," grinned Vivian. "I asked him to tell me all about you." And Vivian memorized everything about them.
Of course, leave it to her father to actually tell the kid about the boxing. "Did he also tell you I had a motorcycle?"
Vivian grinned. "He did."
They chatted for a while about the idea of Holly helping them train for the boxing match, and then turned on a basketball game. Holly and her mother had, for years, teamed up for a football pool. When Vivian turned fourteen, she asked if she could play too, and now three generations did football, soccer, hockey, baseball, and basketball pools.
By the time Gail got home, they had gotten deep into adjusting their teams for the next round, and missed the fact that Gail was actually home until the blonde demanded Holly close the laptop. "I know you guys are total sporto freaks, but it's eleven, and we have a deal."
It was a simple deal. Gail didn't bring up work at the table, Holly didn't bring up sports, and unless it was a major case or the playoffs, ten PM started do-not-disturb hours on both those subjects. Smiling, Holly hit save and closed the laptop. "We'll finish it in the morning, Viv. Did you eat, honey?"
"There's more steak and salad in the fridge," Vivian noted, tucking her tablet aside.
"Fetch me food, child. It's your fault I was at work late." Gail dropped onto the couch beside Holly and her head hit the back of the couch. She looked beat.
Vivian shook her head and got up. "I get to hear behind the scenes drama?"
"In the morning," promised Gail. "I'd go right to bed if I could."
Running her fingers through Gail's bangs, Holly smiled. "Poor baby," she said softly. Gail simply could not go to bed un-fed. It always ended with her in the grumpiest mood ever, and the proud possessor a raging headache.
"Seriously, Holly. Eat. Shower. Sleep. No talk."
Holly didn't attempt to converse with her wife in that mood. She'd probably been talking to suspects all day, or worse, politicos. True to her word, Gail inhaled the food, went upstairs, showered, and was out in moments. In the morning, Gail was a little more chatty, but she was also in a rush. She took the time to inform Holly she loved her before hustling the kid out the door for early rollout.
When Holly rolled in to her own office, she pulled up the lab results on the dead body, Kent Lyles, and the weed from the shop. The Fentanyl was more interesting, frankly. Ever since her own experience in isolation and then Gail's subsequent drug smuggling/laundering case, Holly had gained a sort of expertise about the matter. So she read the Mass. Spec. results and let them bake in her brain.
Sadly, the best she could do was isolate the brands and sources of the lacing items. The rest was going to be the work that the detectives did. All Holly hoped was that they wouldn't ask for a different test. Her lab was always backed up.
Except... She stared at the results from Lyles and tapped in the combinations to her computer and ran up every similar death. One name jumped out at her. Holly pressed Gail's number on her phone and, as soon as her wife answered with a cranky, and distracted, Peck, launched into her question. "Tell me the story about Andy's first case with Sam again? I think I have an idea..."
"Anton Hill was Swarek's white whale," explained McNally as she spoke to the rookies.
Jenny's hand went up. "White whale?"
"It's a Moby Dick reference," muttered Vivian, taking notes. She could feel Jenny glowering and heard a muttered snide remark about the college girl. Whatever. "Was ma'am?" Vivian glanced up at McNally, curiously.
McNally cleared her throat. "Anton Hill ran one of the biggest drug gangs in Toronto. We've wanted him for years, never got enough on him, he dropped dead of heart attack last year."
That was something Vivian remembered. She'd been old enough to go to the Penny as more than the designated driver, drank with the adults, and ended up with the worst hangover of her young life. Of all people to show up at the Penny though, was Sam Swarek.
Raising her hand, again, Jenny asked, "What does that have to do with our cases?"
There was a pause and Vivian glanced up to see McNally eyeing her. "Peck?"
"Hill's death left a power vacuum," she said. That was obvious, but it bought her some time to think. Why would that get brought up now? Either his gang was the one they were watching for that deal or ... Heart attack. "He died of a Fentanyl overdose?" She knew she shouldn't ask it as a question, but it was ludicrous.
The TO smiled at her. "The tox report from Dr. Stewart confirmed it was the same lab, even. And he had traces of marijuana in his system." Vivian grinned. Go Mom. "Hill did not control the Prancing Unicorn, as it happens."
The room went silent. Finally Lara asked, "Unicorn?"
"Prancing Unicorn is the name of the shop," Rich replied. "Why was he using a ... Was it a rival shop?"
"It was, but he didn't know it." McNally tapped the photo of the dead owner, Jack Mancuso. "Lara, what did the former Mrs. Mancuso say?"
Flipping back her notes, Lara cleared her throat. "She divorced her husband because he was working on special deals with doctors. Kickbacks. He'd been the people guy, she was the tech. She didn't want to turn him in, said she still loved him, but she couldn't stay with him."
"That sounds like the plot to a movie," whispered Christian and Vivian grinned.
McNally eyed them. "Something to share with the class?"
"Does she inherit everything?" Vivian put on her best innocent look.
It was clear McNally didn't buy it, but she let it go. "She does. And yes, she knew Lyles. Not Hill though. What are you thinking?"
"Maybe she set Lyles up? Got him the gun?" Vivian knew she was grasping at straws.
McNally shook her head. "No, she claims she hasn't seen or talked any of them in months. She's been visiting family back in New Brunswick. How's your French?"
Vivian winced. "I can hold up a conversation," she muttered, dropping her hand back to her notes.
"To answer your question, Hanford, Hill didn't want his guys to know he had cancer." All the rookies quieted. "Detective Price?"
Chloe, in a grey suit, sans jacket, walked to the front. "Rainbow Happiness, medical marijuana shop on Bloor, sister shop to Unicorn. Sound familiar?"
It did to Vivian, who leaned past Christian to eye Rich. He said nothing and looked perplexed. "Marc Arana. He said his usual shop was on Bloor," Vivian said firmly.
"Good," smiled Chloe. "That one has been hit up by Hills old gang. Arana was a driver for Hill, used to take his kid to school."
Under her breath, Vivian told Christian, "Explains the anxiety." Then she raised a hand. "What happened to the kid?"
Andy replied. "Daughter. Went into the wind at ten. She's been a lost soul for years."
Ignoring all that, Chloe went on. "He also asked for the strain Mancuso laced. Obviously Arana's not the brain behind the drop you guys were watching, but he is still a driver. And he needs weed. And if he's Hill's old crew, they know most of us. But they don't know our rookies."
Oh man. Undercover? Already? "You won't be undercover," McNally said firmly, bursting that bubble. "You will be you. You will be in uniform. You will be fresh faced and earnest and you will be scaring him."
It must not have been just Vivian who was confused, because Chloe smiled gently. "There's a certain kind of terror that comes from the greenest greens looking for someone. Also by using our obvious rookies, it means we're not worried about him. Play on his insecurities."
McNally nodded. "Volk, Peck. You two will take the ones by UoT. Fuller and Aronson will take the ones on Church and Wellsley. Hanford, you'll be here with me working some tapes. Suit up."
As everyone got up, Vivian asked, "Are we working with TwentySeven on this one?" After all, McNally had mentioned Swarek and that was his world.
Chloe cleared her throat. "Hills gang has been in the midst of a take over by an older group. Three Rivers." Vivian's inhaled and tried not to react too much. "So as much as Swarek and TwentySeven wants to be all over this, it's in Fifteen. Don't screw up."
Part of why she liked having an office was because the office had the only access to what was left of her rooftop smokers retreat. Eight years ago, they'd expanded Fifteen and the rooftop was reduced in size to make more space for detectives, most of whom had been punted off of the first floor that needed a larger Sally Port and garage. The old comfort room was flipped to a conference room and after some last second negotiations, Gail had an office plunked where the door was.
It made for a cold office in winter, but she liked it, and if she craned her neck right, she could see Holly's office.
In summer, though, she often just went outside for the fresh air and thinking space. John leaned on the railing while Gail lounged on the bench. "Anton fucking Hill," she mused.
"How are you keeping TwentySeven out of it?"
"They're running the pharmaceutical angle. I pointed out that Sam's basically the poster boy for 'cops' for the Hill gang and the only one the Rivers might recognize is Steve."
John nodded. "Where are the rooks off to?"
"Pot shops. Chloe wants to flush him out by scaring the crap out of him."
Her former partner laughed. "Well he has the brain of a gnat."
It was true. "She wanted 'em undercover, but they're too green. Maybe by October they could do a hooker sting."
"Oh man, I hated that." John leaned forward. "Who was the boy bait in your class?"
"Chris," she smiled. "McNally was so bad at it. I bet she still can't even talk about sex."
The older man was quiet. "Your kid makes me feel old, Gail."
"You say that every year, John."
"I'm serious. After she's cut loose..." He glanced back. "I dunno. What else will I do?"
Gail had expected to lose him after his mother died. She hadn't yet. "So long as you train your successor, I'll find you some sexy older women to hit on," drawled Gail, as if it meant nothing. It didn't. It meant everything. John, like Holly, was a constant in her life. He had her back. He would take a bullet for her. He was still the man she leaned on every day. Yes, she could do it without him. She didn't want to.
"How's your mom? Haven't seen her around."
"Fine. She comes over for dinner on Sundays. You know you're welcome." He didn't answer. "So. If we assume Arana is just a moron, why was he weed shopping? And what the hell was Lyles doing?"
John turned around and rested his arms on the railing. "Either he was shopping for himself, or the pickup with Bobby in the building was a cover for scoping out Unicorn as a new drop."
"Kinda hope it was for himself."
"Ditto." John closed his eyes. "Lyles. Unless we can tie him to anything useful, he's just a guy who Mancuso hooked on drugs and then cut off." He frowned. "I hate drug cases."
Gail stretched out and lay on the bench. "If it wasn't for the stupid lacing, I wouldn't care. But. Guess who has a kid who gets weed for stress?"
Her sergeant started to laugh. "God, remember when our mayor was a crack smoking fat bastard?"
"I liked the gay one," mused Gail. "He was fun. So was the one who broke his nose in the hockey game." The current mayor was boring. Dull as dishwater, a lifetime politico, and apparently he stressed out his kid. "Maybe I should run for mayor when I retire."
John laughed. "You are never retiring, Peck. You're going to work until you're old and cranky... Crankier."
"No," she sighed. "After how my old man died, I'll retire. I want to spend a few years up at the cottage with Holly, just being old and adorable. Watch Viv's kids run around. Die in my sleep on the lakeshore."
The man was quiet. "You've been with her the whole time I've know you," he said quietly. "You make it look easy."
"She means everything to me, John," Gail said sincerely. "Her and that stupid kid who decided to be a cop and a Peck."
John smiled. "I can't believe you didn't see that coming. I knew it as soon as she asked when she could shoot a gun."
That had been when Vivian was eight and Chris had died. She wasn't ever sad or disappointed by the fact that her kid wanted to be a cop. It was just hard for Gail to understand why anyone would. She was a cop because she was a Peck. Vivian was a Peck because she wanted to be a cop. It felt backwards and weird but it was what the kid wanted.
"We should both retire before she goes undercover," decided Gail, and they both laughed.
"Why do you think we didn't get the gay spots? Do you hang out there like all the time?" Lara checked off another shop on their list and eyed the list
"I live near there," Vivian noted. "Next one's this way."
As she walked down the street, Lara asked, "Okay, how do you know that?"
Vivian sighed. "UoT graduate. There's a pipe shop right over here."
In addition to the weed shops, they had to stop in all the pipe and 'lifestyle' stores in the area. It was a college area, there were a lot. So far no one knew who Marc Arana was. Not that Vivian was all that shocked. Stoners stuck together. All small groups did. It was just how they protected themselves.
"Who was the girl at the Penny the other night? The one at the bar?"
"Inspector William's younger daughter, Olivia. We went to school together." Vivian opted for the easiest explanation of it all.
That shut Lara up for a while as they went into the next shop. Three places later, and a cup of good coffee, they had fuck all. "God this is boring," muttered Lara. "Do you really think it'll work?"
Vivian rolled her cup between her hands. "I think Det. Price thinks it might scare him into fucking up."
"That was a no." Lara smiled. She had a brain. "Who are Three Rivers?"
Hesitating, Vivian tossed her cup in a trash can. "They used to be a drug gang around here. About … twenty years ago. Changed to a little more mob-type things, got tripped up and caught and went underground. Then, I guess the last couple years, they popped back up doing drugs."
"And that's the guy you arrested on your first day?"
"One of 'em, yeah." Vivian was still a little embarrassed about it.
After a moment, Lara grinned. "You have a theory."
"I'm a rookie," corrected Vivian. "We don't have theories."
"You're legacy. I know you are." When Vivian must have looked surprised, Lara pointed out, "There are over thirty people named Peck, all active on the force. If you look at the old Chiefs, there're even more. You're the newest."
Vivian sighed. "Me and my cousins... Yeah."
"Which is why all our instructors would look at you when we didn't know the answer. You, Vivian Peck, are royalty."
And that was truth. "Where are you from, Officer Volk," wondered Vivian.
"Toronto, same as you." They smiled at each other. "You need friends, Officer Peck. And I think I am just the girl to help you out."
Friends. She really hadn't made friends since Matty and Christina... Huh. And Christian. Chrissy had moved to Guelph when she was seven, though, and Matty was still in New York (talking about moving back though, since his boyfriend was an opera singer and wanted a gig back home). But making friends was not something she was great at. Both Olivia and Christian were friends forced upon her by circumstances.
In a way, so would Lara.
"Please don't start hitting on me," whinged Vivian. She knew Lara wasn't, and so did Lara, but it broke the tension and they laughed.
Lara grinned. "See, this is why I said you needed to remember the person under the cop. You're funny."
"Oh, I'm a laugh riot," deadpanned Vivian. "Threw a party when my folks were out of town, bored everyone, got caught, didn't get punished."
"Wait, you didn't get punished?"
"Nah, apparently throwing a boring party and having my reputation entirely unchanged was punishment enough."
They reached the last pot shop on their list. "Harsh. I'm taking lead in this one."
"Knock yourself out." Vivian opened the door for Lara, looking around.
Bold and excited, Lara went right up to the desk. "Hi. I've been at this all day, and I'm getting the idea our TOs think this is a joke. Ever had that day?"
The man behind the counter blinked. "Fuck, yeah," he sighed. "My boss?" He turned and looked over his shoulder at the camera. "My boss sticks me with stuff he says is super important but it's bull, y'know?"
Lara nodded and leaned on the counter. "Tell me about it."
"Your partner looks all serious."
"Peck? It's not her fault. She's the latest in a hundred years of policing. I've been informed they come out of a machine like that."
"Oh. Poor kid. Bet she didn't get a choice about the job either." He nodded knowingly. Vivian put on her best 'bored and disinterested' look and wandered around the front of the room, reading the satisfied customer notes. "You guys, you know we're totally legit, right? Above board, under watchful eyes. Only take people who have scrips from good doctors."
While Vivian didn't look over, she turned an ear closer. Good doctors. That implied bad ones. Lara caught it too. "Yeah? Bet you have people trying to scam."
"All the time. But I'm a licensed pharmacist. Don't want to lose that."
Now Vivian spoke up. "A pharmacist?" What had Gail and Steve told her about the Three Rivers guy? The CI who stabbed Steve was a nurse. "And you work here?"
"I like helping people," he said, firmly, clearly asking not to be judged.
She was bad cop, so Vivian scoffed and looked away.
"Don't mind her," assured Lara. "So speaking of scams, this guy's trying to pass bad scrips." She pushed over a paper. The print up.
"They're fake?!"
No fucking way. Vivian looked over, surprised, and met Lara's equally shocked face. "He was here?"
"Yeah, Marc-with-a-C, total tool. Acting like he's all hot and cool and Mr. Sex-In-Jeans." The pharmacist shook his head. "He's due for a pickup this afternoon. What should I do?"
Lara hesitated. "I'll call it in," Vivian said calmly. "What time is his pickup?"
"Five. Last of the day."
"Okay, good." Vivian pulled out her phone and stepped outside. "McNally? You aren't going to believe what Volk found out."
In the end, they stuck one of Chloe's scruffier guys as the new counter clerk. The rookies got to do little more than play lookout in vans, again. But Arana didn't put up a fight. He didn't even argue. Vivian decided he was a patsy, or gangs were stupider than Gail had previously told her.
The good news was Lara and Vivian got to watch the interrogation, by Chloe, at the station. They were the queens of their class at the Penny, explaining the details of what had happened. Lyles had killed Mancuso for getting him addicted and leaving him dry while he was dying. Turns out he was also dying of bone cancer. At the same time, Mancuso was freaked out because he was was trying to get in with Three Rivers.
Their idiot witness, Marc Arana, was with what was left of Anton Hill's crew and was hunting for a new place to push his drugs. He'd known the guys at Rainbow for years and they were freelancing and helping Mancuso and Unicorn step to the dark side of drug selling.
"This is all too confusing," groaned Jenny. "Mancuso was taking lessons from the pot shop Arana went to so he could join Three Rivers?"
"To pay off his divorce settlement. Wife got him for everything, so he tried to launder drug money with drugs." Vivian sipped her beer, trying not to grin.
"And, what?" Rich scowled. "Bad luck that Arana and Lyles happened on the same day?"
Lara nodded. "Guy had nothing but bad luck. He was in debt up the ass and back again. Being sued too."
Vivian carried on the story. "Arana wasn't doing all this on behalf of Hill, though. So he's scared to death. Det. Price has him under her thumb. They've got an in on both sides of the whole Rivers/Hill mashup."
With a big sigh, Christian leaned back. "That sucks, they have a big case and you guys broke it."
"Success is 90% luck and 10% timing, C," remarked Vivian, shaking her head.
Jenny blinked. "Who said that?"
"My grandmother." Vivian picked up her beer only to have Christian jostle her arm. "Dude, beers," she scowled.
But Christian was looking past her. "Dude, Ivs." Ivs. That was what Gail called her and Liv. Vivian turned around and saw Olivia walk in with Noelle. Crap. "Did you call her?"
She shook her head and ignored Rich and Jenny asking why Vivian would call the other woman. Or 'the hottie' as Rich put it. "Shut up, Rich," muttered Vivian, finishing her beer.
"Go," said Christian. And then, like the best wingman ever, he asked Lara, "So. Do you guys get to follow the case at all?"
With a curious look to Vivian, Lara went into the details about how they'd not follow this case any more than the other ones. Vivian watched Liv go up to the bar and followed her. "Hello," she said, pushing for that casualness Gail seemed to exude like breathing.
"Hi," replied Liv, looking nervous. "I'm sorry, my mom..." She gestured over at Noelle.
"It's a cop bar. She's a cop. It happens."
"And you're a cop." Liv looked her up and down. "You look ... Good. I said that the other night, didn't I?"
Vivian smiled. "You're such a dork, Liv."
"Yeah, usually you're the babbler." Olivia laughed softly. "This is where you're supposed to buy me a drink."
"Oh yeah, no. I'm not buying drinks tonight. We trapped a drug dealer."
Liv grinned. "How does that work? Best collar of the week doesn't pay for drinks?"
Nodding, Viv held up two fingers. "That's exactly how it works." She handed Liv one of the beers. "I was going to call."
"Is that a line?"
Vivian looked down. "No. I... I was reminded today that I don't really do friends really well."
Her second oldest friend studied her face. "That was Mom's biggest worry. About us. That we'd screw up friends."
Snorting, Vivian pointed out, "We did."
"Yeah. We did."
Noelle interrupted the moment. "Vivian. Come here and tell me how you got free drinks again this week."
"Again?" Olivia picked up her mother's drink and looked amused.
"I arrested a drug dealer my first day," shrugged Vivian. "I'm kind of a bad ass."
"Oh, I've got to hear this."
It was weird being around Liv. They hadn't broken up well at all. In fact, Holly called it her level of shitty breakups. But they'd been friends for 12 years before they'd tried dating and maybe, just maybe, they could figure out how to be friends again. After all, Gail hated people but even she managed to still be friends with Nick, after two phenomenal breakups.
She glanced back at the rookies and saw Lara regaling them with the story. There was no time like the present.
"So. Which first?" Vivian pulled a chair out with her foot. "The one where I totally lucked out and arrested a guy with drugs in his bag, or the one where I totally lucked out and saw a shooting?"
Liv laughed. "Luck seems to be a predominant factor in your career."
"Says the woman who's greatest achievement comes from forgetting to put away her test tubes," Vivian said drolly.
Turning darker, Olivia snapped at her mother. "Mom! You told?"
Yeah. She could try friends again.
The rookies are rookies. They don't get to be in on the action in general because they're rookies. So they may stumble on the facts of the case and some of the answers, but it's the experienced cops who will solve them.
The convoluted nature of this chapter's case is on purpose. The murder was simple revenge. Lyles was having a heart attack as he killed Mancuso. The witness, Arana, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Hill/Rivers gang situation is not solved yet.
