Thanks for reading and reviewing you guys, I hope you're still enjoying it! (Sorry for the hiatus, life got real busy)
Sara
Exhaling a breath of smoke, I stared out at the golden glow forming behind distant mountains, the sky painted in hues of pink and gold. The air held a warmth that signaled the honest return of spring, last nights dramatics a punctuated end to a tumulus winter.
Pushing my aviators down from on top of unruly hair, I glanced at the clock on my dashboard glowing a warning 6:45. Unease was tugging at my mind with the knowledge of what today held, but for the moment it was overshadowed by the happiness that had overtaken me sometime last night and had yet to fade.
I could still feel Catherine's lips against mine, hear the sound of her breathless moans. Tapping my cigarette absently out the wide open window I watched the ash drift slowly to the ground, eventually allowing my eyes to drift shut.
I learned last night that she loves Cher, is afraid of heights, owned a horse named Prairie. That her middle name is Oleria, following the botanical theme of her mother. That she prefers the left side of the bed. That any fantasies of her could never live up to the reality. Her first time with a woman and she had me mindless, shaking. Not that that fact didn't unnerve me. Not that I hadn't been silently panicking about it since she mumbled it against my overheated skin last night.
My cigarette slipped suddenly from it's loose hold between my fingers, eyes flying open to see Sofia offering a half smile, raising the smoke up to her lips.
Exhaustion was obvious, dark circles like half moons beneath her eyes. Her ponytail that was once tight and sleek hung loose over her shoulder, a thin black sweater zipped over her frame, taking the edge off her typical authoritarian style.
"Hey" she exhaled, leaning back against the door of my Subaru.
"Well, you look awful."
She chuckled, blowing smoke up towards the sky before passing it back to me with a mock narrowing of glacial eyes.
"I've been driving all night. Ortega got violent with a suspect, bought himself a weeks suspension and someone has to interview O'Riley. Lucky for them I don't sleep these days"
I silently praised the gods for that little burst of luck. Ortega had no place in that interview, we couldn't afford to have it go sideways.
"Are those mine?" she asked suddenly, brow furrowing as she reached out to snatch the sunglasses smoothly off of my face, giving them a once over before slipping them on to the perch of her nose. "I've been looking for these for weeks"
I offered an apologetic half smile, pushing open the door. "You left them in my car."
I stretched sore muscles lightly, taking a final drag of my smoke before letting it fall, stubbing it out beneath a booted toe. "How was Idaho?"
A smile skirted over her face, eyes unreadable behind dark glasses. She swayed in one place for a moment, searching for the right word.
"Satisfying"
I snorted as she turned towards PD, locking my door before falling easily in step beside her.
"Personally or professionally?"
A smirk pulled at her lips as my brow furrowed, trying to decipher the extent of this ongoing crisis. "Both"
"Who?" I asked vaguely, certain she knew exactly what I was referring to.
"You don't know her" she answered flippantly, offering a smile to an officer heading out of the building.
"Do you?" I asked quietly, my leather clad shoulder brushing hers. Sleeping with a friend was one thing- a reaching out of sorts. Sleeping with random women in random cities was proof that she was on a fast track to self annihilation.
"A little possessive for someone who spent the night on top of another woman" she mused, shooting me a teasing sideways glance.
The furrow of my brow deepened. "How do you…"
"You seem happy, and I can only think of one reason for that right now. Also your hair always looks like this afterwards…" she reached over to tug playfully at a strand of my unruly hair that I had halfheartedly tried to tame in the rearview mirror this morning.
I frowned, batting her hand away as we entered through the large doors.
"Do you want to hear about my conversation with Evelyn Larson or do you want the details of my sex life?" she asked quietly as we moved through the bustling hall.
It turned out Evelyn had a lot to say. Sam had been abusive, angry, manipulative. He loved Celia in a possessive sort of way, and most notably, she was planning to leave him for James.
"She said James was a sweet kid- loved Celia, hated his brother for what he did" she told me, giving a nod at Jim who was tied up in a tense conversation outside an interrogation room, acknowledging our presence with a tired smile.
"She claims that Celia claimed that the baby was James's, not Sam's"
I glanced at her in surprise, her hand grasping my wrist gently to keep me in pace with her, guiding us into her makeshift office.
"Do you think that was just wishful thinking, or was she sure?" I asked, dropping into the chair across from her desk. A divider separated her office from detective Vartaan's, giving a half hearted illusion of her own space.
"I don't know, but if he found out, that's more than enough motive"
She sifted absently through a few files that were sitting on her desk, picking up a hand written note which she read with a furrowed brow, eyes rolling lightly as she crumped the paper in her fist, tossing it into the trash.
"This doesn't make sense, James has been provoking us for months…"
Dropping into her chair, she pulled silky hair out of it's messy hold, running her fingers through it with a sigh.
"Maybe we read it wrong. Maybe he's been so brazen because he has nothing to hide"
/
The paper cup in my hand strained under the weight of my grip, threatening to collapse in on itself as I stared into the interrogation room.
I had been certain that Sam would be just as irritatingly magnetic as his brother. He had managed to avoid any scrutiny up until this point, which means there must have been some manipulation on his part. He had been described as a quiet, cooperative man grieving his daughters death.
As far as I could tell, the grief was absent and the cooperation was minimal at best. He had a messy temper and a defiant front and I hadn't expected any of it. Perhaps because it didn't make sense. All he had to do was have an amicable conversation and Ecklie would be shaking his hand as he walked out of here, yet he was choosing the path of confident indignation.
Sofia was having none of it. Leaning back casually with a coffee in one hand, twisting a toothpick absently between her fingers with the other, she held Sam's gaze. They had been in this stalemate for about 5 minutes, the questions about Emma going widely unanswered.
"We can sit here all day, I'm not talking about my daughter with you people" he finally spoke, voice gruff.
"How about your brother then. How did you feel about him moving out here?"
"My brother is a bastard as I'm sure you know. Why don't you just tell me what you think you've got so I can be on my way"
Sofia let her booted foot fall to the ground as she sat up, leaning forward to look him square in the eyes. "We've got 13 dead children and no answers. Your cooperation would be much appreciated"
Bright green eyes shot down to the hint of cleavage that was suddenly visible, lingering for a long moment before he met her gaze again, a smirk painting his lips. The coffee cup dented warningly beneath my fingertips, eyes narrowing at the scene. She didn't flinch, just slid the toothpick casually between her teeth and bit down, raising an expectant eyebrow.
He sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. "James showed up at my door out of the blue needing a place to stay for a while. Said the weather in Colorado didn't agree with him. He's family so I let him stay"
"And when Emma died…"
"I told him he needed to figure something else out. My wife and I needed space to grieve"
There was something eerily calm about the way he spoke of Emma's death. No matter how much time had passed, speaking to the parent of a murdered child was always difficult. He was saying the right words, but the underlying emotion just wasn't there.
"Were your wife and Emma close?"
"She was her daughter, what do you think"
Sofia sat back, re-crossing her leg as she took a sip of coffee.
"Not biologically, though"
There it was. I could see it in his posture the moment this stopped being a game to him. If we knew that much, we had been looking into him. We knew about his past.
"She raised Emma, she's her mother"
"Emma's biological mother died of asphyxiation when she was 17, case unsolved. Don't you think it's a little strange that she was killed in the same manor, around the same age as her daughter?"
Sticking the toothpick back between her teeth, I chewed on my bottom lip anxiously, praying that she would reign it in; that the sheriff would keep his distance from this because we were on fragile ground.
"Is that an accusation?"
She stared at him with a heavy intensity and for a moment I was certain she was about to blow this entire thing up, but she unclenched her jaw, giving her head a slight tilt. "We're just looking for answers here, no accusations. In my experience, these sort of likenesses are rarely coincidental"
"Of course I think it's strange, what kind of question is that? My life has been a fucking nightmare, and now I'm being followed around like a criminal by you people"
"You're free to leave any time, but I would advise you to clear a few things up before you do so"
Sam flexed his fingers with a sigh before dropping his hand onto the table.
"You ever use Arnica gel?"
"All the time, I'm a sports medicine doctor, most of my clients use it. I imagine half the country uses it"
"Do you personally ever use it?"
A pause. A momentary hesitation, but enough to notice. "I have before, on a sprained ankle… what is this about?"
"What do you use on your arthritis, looks painful"
I pursed my lips into a smile- good girl.
He glanced down at his knuckles that he had been absently rubbing, the inflammation of them red and obvious.
"Methotrexate"
"Really, a naturopathic doctor like you on Methotrexate? That seems strange"
"Are you calling me a liar?"
She tilted her head ever so slightly, giving a slight nod towards his hands.
"You ever hear of something called invisible glove?"
He snorted, crossing thick arms over his chest as he narrowed his gaze on her. "What kind of questions are these? You get two more and I'm done"
She remained unfazed, tilting her head ever so slightly as she held his gaze. "It's used for gardening, construction work, mechanics… you ever use the stuff?"
He sighed, shrugging lightly
"Might have seen some around, James had a bunch of work shit stored in the garage"
Sofia's gaze flicked up in my direction briefly, taking a drawn out sip of coffee. That simple, off hand statement might be our key. Either that was the truth, making James the likely suspect, or he realized we were on to him and this was a simple way of shifting our focus back onto his brother.
The buzz of my phone drew my attention, slipping it out of my back pocket.
"Sidle"
"Hey, how's it going over there?"
A smile pulled at my lips at the sound of Catherine's voice, turning momentarily away from the interrogation room.
"Good, Sofia's just finishing up with Sam"
"Sofia? I thought Ortega was doing the interview?"
"Apparently he got suspended… I'll explain when I get back to the lab. What's up?"
She hesitated, sighing quietly.
"I just ran into James O'Riley"
I felt a sudden tension radiate through my whole body, something resembling panic settling in my chest.
"Where?"
"At Franks. Just… stay there. I'm on my way, I'll explain everything"
I frowned, leaning back against the wooden edge of the window sill as I covered my ear with my free hand, blocking out the background noise; the irritated voices now fighting for dominance in the interrogation room.
"Catherine, he shouldn't be anywhere near you…"
"I'm fine, Sara. I'll see you in a bit"