NOTE: I'm back at college now and taking way too many classes, so updates will start to become less regular. That said, I have the next several chapters planned out in detail so worry not.
Less Barson this chapter but I try to make up for it with intrigue and some Olivia inner turmoil. She's getting nervous... Are you? Mwahaha! Enjoy!
The sun was starting to creep up over the horizon, emitting a soft orange glow that soon coated the city. Olivia couldn't bring herself to enjoy it as she rounded the bend in the path; normally the early morning light only added to the beauty of Central Park but nothing could make this picture pretty.
Neon yellow police tape encircled the mulchy area as uniformed cops placed police barriers along the popular jogging path, already having to direct civilians away despite the early hour. The bend in the road hid the spectacle from curious eyes but the CSU van parked alongside the path only piqued their interest as people craned their necks to sneak a peak.
Olivia flashed her badge to some uni's as she ducked under the police tape searching for her partner. CSU was crawling over the crime scene so it took her a moment to spot him before she jogged over and he greeted her with a somber nod. With dread, the detectives made their way over to the star of the gruesome scene.
The body was out in the open this time, her limbs spread out wide for the world to see as she laid there lifeless in the mulch and dirt. If Susie Cutler's face was bad, then this woman's face was hell, made even more grotesque by the orange light of morning spilling onto the bloody mess where her features should be. Olivia felt a horrible sense of deja vu as she knelt down to examine the woman's hands.
"Again, one pinky ripped out, the other broken," she said grimly to her partner. "But her face…" Benson shook her head, "Way more rage this time."
Nick scanned the area around them, "He couldn't have picked a better spot," he commented, "It's sheltered from view but along a popular path during the day... He's getting bolder now, he wants people to notice him."
Benson nodded, looking contemplative, "He clearly staged the body for maximum effect," Benson added. She stood back up to search the ground around the body before she started, catching sight of something odd and distinctly different from their other crime scenes. "Woah, wait, Nick come here! She's got something written on her arms!"
He was there in an instant, pausing her before she could move the arms to wave a CSU guy holding a camera over. "You've taken photos of the body?" he asked him impatiently.
"Yes sir," he nodded. The guy was young and clearly eager to please which grated on Nick's nerves.
Amaro rolled his eyes. "Come here then."
He nodded to Liv who had taken the opportunity to pull on some gloves and she twisted one arm so it was no longer facing palm up before doing the same to the other revealing the words "ME: 5" and "NYPD: 0" written across the tops of her forearms.
The CSU guy immediately starting snapping pictures while Olivia stood up crossing her arms next to her partner. "Bastard," she spat out. "If you're going to taunt the NYPD, at least try to be original," she seethed, her face thunderous.
"I'm not surprised he went with 'me' instead of 'P.P.,'" Nick said dryly, "Guess he didn't like 'Pinky Pervert'."
If Benson weren't so pissed she would've snorted. "He got awfully cocky with this one, here's hoping he made a mistake."
Her partner knelt down to look at her hands more closely, "He just might've. If I'm not mistaken, there's some blood under her fingernails," he said, hope creeping into his voice.
"Here's hoping it's the perps and not her own," Benson said, clearly feeling more cynical than her partner.
He ignored her remark. "Between that and the pollen and dirt, we might actually get the bastard," Nick said.
Benson nodded distantly, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared down at the body with a curious expression. "In the meantime, we've got another Jane Doe…"
"And a lead, Liv," he reminded her.
"Yes. And a lead."
Amaro was becoming increasingly concerned as he watched his partner brooding next to him; she probably didn't realize she was muttering to herself but judging from the increasing vulgarity of her swears, she was starting to spiral. He frowned. It wasn't like her to take a taunt like that so personally.
Olivia wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep or not, but she just couldn't get the sight of Jane Doe's forearms out of her mind and it was fucking pissing her off. Taunting, perverted, fucking bastard! Her anger was sharp and satisfying but dampened, of course, by the overwhelming guilt bubbling away in her gut. All she could think was that while she was flirting and laughing last night, Jane Doe was being tortured and raped. As some of her anger faded, she felt that same flicker of unease she'd been feeling ever since she saw Jane Doe naked and faceless. Without any facial features, it was easy for her to picture her own instead, noticing the similarities in her body type and hair. A part of her blamed Amaro for the unnerving intrusive thought; it never would've come to mind if he hadn't been talking about her resemblance to Emily yesterday and she hated it. She hated that, she hated the nervous squirm in her stomach, and she hated this fucking case. NYPD:0 for now you fucking dickhead!
Her fierce scowl vanished as she startled, pulled her from disturbing thoughts by the sounds of Amaro clearing his throat.
"So..." Amaro said, glancing at his partner as he drove, "How was the date?"
Olivia's head swiveled over to eye him suspiciously, searching for any sign of mockery. He seemed sincere. "It went well," she said evasively as she crossed her arms, shooting him a look clearly meant to stave him off.
He, of course, ignored it. "Was it good enough for a second?"
Olivia glowered at his nosiness, "Why do you always wait until I'm trapped in a car with you to ask this shit?"
"Cause otherwise you'd walk away," he said with a crooked grin, "Now spill, Benson."
"You're such an ass, Amaro!" When his grin widened she groaned, "Ugh, fine." At least it'd take her mind off that fucking crime scene. "Ask away."
"Do I really gotta ask, Liv, why can't you just tell me?" he complained.
"Hey, if you wanna know you gotta work for it!" she retorted.
"That's fair." He paused. "Okay then, what I said before. Was it good enough for a second?"
The corners of her lips twitched upwards, "It was the only way he could get me to agree to him paying for our drinks."
Amaro relaxed some at her hint of a smile, "Ah, a gentleman," he teased, causing her to roll her eyes as her smile strengthened. "You said you weren't sure what he wanted... Are you guys...?"
She stared resolutely out the front window, avoiding his curious gaze, "We're on the same page."
It was his turn to roll his eyes, "Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Are you two dating or what?"
"Yep."
"'Yep?' That's it? God, you're so annoying!"
She gave him a wicked grin, "And you suck at being nosy!"
Oh really? His eyes narrowed, "Did you two fuck?"
She gaped at him, immediately flushing red. "OH my god!"
He gave her a smug smile, "That nosy enough for you?"
"I—!" Her jaw was slack, "I—Yeah!"
"'Yeah' as in nosy enough or 'yeah' you two did fuck?" Nick shot at his stunned partner, enjoying her flustered state while secretly praying she wouldn't get into it. He'd only said it to get a reaction from her, to get her out of her head.
Olivia recovered quickly, giving him a sharp look. "We did NOT 'fuck,'" she retorted, her disdain at his word choice clear. "You nosy bastard. We had a very nice evening of conversation that ended with us in different cabs."
His grin was triumphant. "I knew I could get you to spill!"
"Ah, shut up," she said, punching him lightly in the shoulder unable to keep the scowl on her face. He gave an exaggerated "Oof!" that had her smiling again, feeling lighter than she had all morning.
"Thanks, Nick," she said, suddenly serious as it hit her. He gave her a questioning look. "I know what you did there," she elaborated, "Getting me out of my head and all."
He glanced at her sheepishly, "What gave it away?"
"Oh please! You'd never voluntarily talk about Barba unless you had another reason for it. Let alone ask THAT." She paused. "What gave me away? Other than my face, I'm sure," she joked.
"Forget your face!" he exclaimed, "If I said half the things you were muttering, Liv, my mamí would wash my mouth with soap!" Olivia let out a surprised laugh, feeling a rush of affection for her attentive partner. She was lucky. He wasn't half bad really.
The 20-something-year-old man examined each photo with a clinical eye as Benson swiped the screen of her iPad. As they reached the end of the array, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes flicking from the iPad to her face. "I don't recognize any of these women, detective, I'm sorry," he said apologetically.
"That's alright," she said, unable to keep a hint of dejection out of her voice as she opened another photo array. "How about these women? Do you recognize any of them?"
The bartender, Sal according to his nametag, shook his head at the first and second photos before his face lit up. "That's Susie!" Olivia's heart leaped at the successful ID. "Lovely lady, real friendly," Sal continued on, "She likes to come in with her friends sometimes, but they always leave before her. Always has an interesting story to tell." He paused, curiosity getting the best of him, "Hey, wait, is she okay?"
She brushed aside the question with one of her own, gesturing at Amaro to come over from where he was examining the bar's security camera system. "When did you last see her?"
As Nick walked up, Sal answered nervously. "Not too long ago, she came in the other night, um," he squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to recall the details, "Yeah, I remember now. She came in 3 nights ago, we had an unplanned margarita night cause my boss ordered too much tequila."
"And Susie?" Amaro prompted impatiently.
"Oh yeah, sorry," he grimaced, "She must've come in around the after-dinner rush, uh she stayed later than usual chatting it up with this guy. Left with him, now that I think of it."
The detectives exchanged significant looks before Benson pressed him for more details. "Did she seem to know the guy? Have you seen him before?"
"Well, I've never seen him before, but I think Susie knew him?" he guessed, "Or at least he knew her. Called her by name."
Amaro was starting to get excited, "Could you hear what they were talking about?"
Sal shook his head, "Not really... I remember he had her guessing where she knew him from, it was kinda cute I guess and she didn't seem to mind."
Olivia's eyebrows were knit in concentration, "And you said they left together?"
"Yeah, the guy threw a couple of bills down and they walked out," Sal noted Amaro's annoyed frown with guilt, "She seemed fine when they left, I swear!" Benson raised an eyebrow at him, knowing he was holding something back. His face flushed as he tripped over his words, "I m-mean yeah, she was definitely tipsy or, or tired," Or drugged, Olivia silently added with derision, "but she was walking by herself!" he said defensively.
...Idiot. "Any chance you still have the bills he paid with?" Benson asked tiredly.
"No, not three days later. Sorry detectives."
Neither seemed too surprised. "Ah well, it was a long shot anyway," Benson said with a frown. "Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist?"
"Yes!" he said enthusiastically, "That I can do!"
"Good," Amaro said firmly. "Now, do those security cameras actually work, cause I'm going to need copies of your security tapes from the other night as well before you head down to the station with us."
He raised his shoulders in a shrug, "Uh, I guess they do? I don't know if we actually keep the footage or not though. My boss would know better, I can call her."
"Yeah do that."
As Sal went in the back, nervously glancing over his shoulder at them, Benson rounded on Amaro with an intensity that made him flinch back a little, "We're so CLOSE I can feel it! I swear to god, Nick, if this is another dead end..." Olivia shook her head, bringing her hands up to rub at her temples.
"I know," he said simply, wanting to comment on her intensity but not trusting himself to get into it with her right now. He jerked his finger towards Sal's muffled voice, "What else could junior tell us?"
Olivia looked back down at the iPad, absentmindedly flicking through the photos on the screen. "He didn't recognize any of our other vics," she mused, "and he hasn't seen anyone suspicious hanging around lately. What the hell are we missing?"
Amaro was saved from answering when Sal came back into the room. "Okay, detectives, good news, and bad news," he said with an obnoxiously cheery tone.
Benson closed her eyes shut, counting to ten in her head while Nick shot him a sharp look that screamed Get to the point.
Sal swallowed heavily, "Uh, yes, so, unfortunately, the footage from our security cams erases itself the next day so our footage from that night is gone, but my boss said I could lock up and come with you guys right now to get the sketch done so that's good, right?"
"Perfect," Benson deadpanned before walking away to call Rollins who was with Fin canvassing other bars in the area.
There was an awkward pause as Olivia walked away. His partner's churlishness seemed to cure him of his own as he glanced at the skinny bartender who looked jumpy as hell, "Thank you," Amaro said to Sal with as much sincerity as he could, hoping to repair some of the damage he and Benson's curt words had done. It wouldn't do to scare him off with their bad attitudes. "And, uh, sorry about that," he added, "We've just been working overtime, I'm sure you get it."
Sal nodded, relaxing a little. "Yeah, I bet," he paused, glancing over to where Benson was talking animatedly into the phone. "Is she like, related to Susie or something?"
Nick eyed him strangely, "No... Why'd you ask?"
"I don't know they look alike I guess, never mind."
Amaro didn't say anything as Olivia walked back up to them. "Okay, let's go. Fin and Rollins didn't get anything, they'll stop by Melinda's before coming back to the station."
"Sounds good," Amaro said quickly before turning to Sal. "You ready?"
"Yeah just let me lock up," he said as the two detectives left the bar.
The two partners stood there in silence listening to the sounds of the city.
Olivia found it surprisingly grounding as she spoke, "I've been doing this for a long time Nick and it never gets any easier," she said softly. "The only thing that makes it worth it is putting the bastard away."
"Then we'll do that," he said with conviction. "We have so much more now than we did yesterday, Liv."
"I know... and that's what worries me. He's losing his composure and he's gonna bring down as many women as he can down with him."
"Not if we have anything to say about it," he said darkly.
Her eyes narrowed. He was right. Whatever irrational fear she was grappling with needed to be put on hold. It was making her irritable and sloppy when she couldn't afford that. She had a job to do.
She nodded and sucked in a deep breath before turning to give him a determined look, setting aside her lingering disquiet for now. Amaro bit back a sigh of relief at the sight; he finally had his partner back. As Sal came back, blabbering on about how important security was these days, Olivia blocked it out with ease. As she reviewed the crime scene in her mind again, it was no longer to ruminate on the chilling details but to try and look at the scene as the objective detective she should've been. She could do this. There was no reason to make this personal after all.
The man's eyes narrowed as she climbed out of the car, her mouth moving as she said something to her partner. He couldn't help but fixate on her long legs. Detective Benson was taller than his other girls, almost as tall as him if he remembered correctly. Which, of course, he did. He remembered everything about their first meeting.
He'd been waiting for her to show up for a while now so he drank her in, eyes lingering in impolite places, blocking everything out until an unexpected movement caught his attention. His eyebrows shot upwards in surprise as that gangly bartender from the other night crawled out of the backseat. How the fuck?! His hands gripped his steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he felt a flicker of unease that quickly morphed into anger. Fucking bartenders. If that little bitch told her anything, if she recognized him before he wanted her to… He reflexively ran his fingers through his hair to calm himself, breathing out slowly. If that happened, he could handle it. He always did.
Naturally, he already knew he'd have to go about things differently with her; as a trained "special victims" detective there was no way he could get her to voluntarily drink anything and she probably had self-defense training he'd have to worry about too. If all went well though, that would mean nothing. He had a couple of ideas in the works already, each more promising than the last. The more rational part of him tried to reason with him, tell him it wasn't worth it, that there were other women out there, but a much louder, more dominating part of him loved the challenge of it, loved planning it.
As she stepped into the building, he relaxed into his seat. He let out an annoyed sigh; he should probably head back now and come by later to follow her home. If he missed her, he had other means of locating her apartment obviously, but he always preferred to follow his girls rather than find them. For now, though, that would have to do if she didn't show. He ran through the list of things he'd need to prepare as he pulled away from the precinct, mulling things over. He'd be able to get everything fairly easily and then it was just a matter of time, clever planning, and a hint of luck. Not that he needed it really. Either way... Soon. Definitely soon.