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Happy Major Crimes Monday!
Chapter 2 - Facts and Figures
It had been a month since Andy Flynn had met Sharon Raydor. Well, more like Sharon Raydor had interrupted his time at the batting cages. He hadn't gone back. He didn't have time to really. He had been in meetings with different people for the last month that by the time he went home he just passed out.
Explaining to his ex-wife what had happened wasn't easy. She was taking the kids across the country to visit her parents and he'd see them when they came back. They were going for their summer vacation and they were only three days into it. He had begged to see them before they left – needed to see them – but she wouldn't let up. She blamed it on school. On projects that were due. Play dates with friends.
He had a meeting with his Commanding Officer –the old goat was about to be retired anyway. He didn't like Flynn and made no show of hiding it. The longer Andy sat in his office, the angrier the man got. He would be glad if Flynn got fired, Andy was sure. But as the goat pointed out – Flynn was one of the best people he had. So no, he didn't want him fired.
Raydor had been around for every meeting after that. She hadn't said why, but when he walked into the conference room that he might as well started calling home, she was there. And every day after that she was there.
"So you're saying," Andy started, throwing a look from Sharon to the idiot IA guy who was trying to get him riled up enough to fire him. "I'm going to get fired and sued?"
"You're not –" Sharon began only to be silenced by her counterpart.
The man had shaken his head slightly. Enough to grab her attention and Flynn's.
"The family isn't suing you," she said, changing her tune. "The family is suing the LAPD. You're at the top of the docket because of your involvement."
"My involvement," Flynn laughed. "Which is still in limbo."
The ballistics had come back from the weapons at the scene. The only one's that seemed to match were the ones in the girl in the house. The one in the suspect couldn't be matched to either of their guns. Raydor had the ballistics ran again and they were waiting on that – she couldn't get them bumped up either. She had to wait. Just like it was a normal case.
Due to the unavailability of the ballistics, Flynn was given an extended suspension. No pay. He was going to go on three months without a paycheck and he was starting to feel the weight of that.
"Your involvement should have you on your ass instead of in that chair," the man said.
Sharon remained silent. His eyebrows knitted together at the quietness from her. Andy shook his head and leaned back in his chair.
"What do you expect me to say?" Flynn challenged the other man. "That I'm glad the asshole is dead? He raped three other girls for crying out loud. Raped and killed them!"
The outburst silenced the room. There was only three of them in that large conference room, but nevertheless, he had the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"He raped and murdered kids," Andy emphasized. "He came at me with a gun in his pants and made a lunge for mine. Anyone else would get it argued that what happened was in self defense."
"Did you know he had a gun?" the man asked. "At the time of when he charged you, did you know he had a gun?"
"No," Andy said, honestly.
In one of the meetings, Sharon had told him to be honest. Honesty was always the best policy in this kind of situation. He was sure honesty was going to lead elsewhere.
"Then the argument of self defense won't work," the man said. "You'll be charged with involuntary manslaughter, sued, and fired. Jail time will probably not happen since you worked with the system."
"I'll be going to jail?!" Andy snapped. He turned to Raydor. "You said nothing about jail time."
"There won't be jail time," she growled, returning her own gaze to the man besides her. "It's what would happen to anyone else. That's where he's going with this."
"So I'll be fired before I get arrested," Flynn nodded, standing. "Great."
He left the room. He needed air. He was almost on the roof anyway, not that he could go out there. He pushed the double glass doors that led to the patio and took in a deep breath. This was starting to get to him. The stress of not knowing. The items to the never ending list. All he wanted was an answer.
Fired? Or Not fired?
Raydor wasn't helping. The woman who was with him all the time now. The one he was starting to welcome. She was the bane of existence when he was the butt of the department's jokes. That only lasted a week.
Then when he wasn't being mocked, she was. That lasted a little while longer. It came from personnel in her own department. He had met her one morning in front and as they rode up the elevator younger men had snickered when they stepped on. Andy had moved to silence them but she had gotten him to stop by placing a hand to his wrist.
That didn't last long either. Someone must have told them to shut up and shape up because when they saw the duo again they averted their eyes.
"You're not doing yourself any favors by coming out here," he heard behind her.
He was leaning against the railing, his forearms resting against the black rail. Not straightening up, he threw a look over his shoulder. It was Raydor. She was dressed casually today. Much like how she when he first met her.
Flynn looked back to the city below him. He was going to start hating this place soon if he didn't get some answers. He was going to had his life more than he currently did. No kids, no wife, no job – most people would get themselves a permanent stool at a bar for all that. He couldn't. He wasn't able to or else he would be fired for sure.
"Not doing myself any favors sitting in there either." Flynn said to the city.
Getting himself fired would solve a lot of problems. It would get Raydor off his back and she could get back to her job. It would save the city a lot of money too. They wouldn't need to pay for legal bills that would be paid out of pocket from LAPD.
He turned and leaned back against the railing, giving her a look. She was starting in on him. She put her hands into her back pockets and stopped before him. She tried to give him a small smile but he pressed his lips together.
"If I'm getting fired I don't know why I'm not," he said. "This round the bush shit is starting to piss me off."
Sharon gave him a smile.
"What?"
"You're not getting fired," she said. "You won't be fired."
"How are you so sure of that?"
"Because the call placed into dispatch was from someone within the LAPD," she said. "The analytics of the bullets had been 'lost'. We're putting together a list of potentials but it looks like you're being framed."
Andy Flynn looked at her with a blank look. Framed. He was being framed. Which means if she could prove who did it he'd be able to come back to work. It begged the question, who hated Flynn enough to have this pinned on him to have him fired. To have him off the force.
He wanted to hug her. Hell he'd kiss her if it was appropriate but he was already on thin ice.
"What do –" Flynn started, knitting his brows together. "What do you know about it?"
She took a deep breath and sighed. She bit her lip and then shrugged.
"The calls into dispatch didn't add up." She pointed out. "The call for the suicide and the shooting was two minutes. You showed up a few minutes later."
Flynn thought about it. He hadn't heard the tapes since the first night. The night of the incident. He hadn't thought that maybe, just maybe, the tapes had been tampered with. It all came right after another.
Then it clicked.
They wanted an excuse. They wanted an excuse to fire him and this was it. They were going to put it all on his shoulders, rile him up enough to fire him. Andy Flynn will be the one in the LAPD study guides as the example of what not to do as a cop. It'll be his legacy; a disgraced cop.
"They want you to admit to the shooting so they can move on," Sharon pointed out. "You're being railroaded so someone else doesn't have to."
"I'm going to kill them," Andy said, his attitude going quick to anger. "I'm going to –"
He spun around and swung into the air. God this was frustrating. They wanted him tarred and feathered. All because someone else screwed the pooch.
A soft hand landed on his back and it eased him. It calmed him for a second before he spun around and glared at her.
It wasn't his fault. He knew it wasn't her fault. She was just trying to help, but god if only he could blame her. If it could be her fault it would be easier.
"I want this shit over and done with," Flynn growled at her. "This is bullshit and I'm tired of it."
The cursing was something Sharon Raydor was used to. Her ex-husband did it after he came home from work, having stopped at a bar on his way home. Andy was kinder about it. More self aware. He didn't curse around her often. Only did it for emphasis.
"You're not going to like what I have planned next," she said.
"Gentleman," Flynn said, a little later, after he and Raydor went over her plan. "You all can go to hell."
He tossed his temporary security card and department I.D., and it onto the table. This was all apart of the plan he thought quietly in his mind. Raydor was next to him, stone faced. She wasn't going to let the men in the room in on her secret. If she was right, they'd be asking him to stay.
She gathered up her things, taking her notebook in her hand and gestured to Flynn for the door. He nodded, gave her a small smile and what happened next stopped them both.
"You walk out of here you're fired Flynn," the man from earlier said. "You can't let him walk out of here."
The man was pointing a finger at Raydor. Okay, so that wasn't apart of the plan. But it was something he could work with.
"You have my badge, my gun, and now you have my security card." Flynn said nodding to the items on the table. "Until you need me for whatever plan you have yet to come up with, you know where to find me."
With that he turned on his heel and exited the room. He hung back at the elevator, taking a minute or two longer than needed, to press the button to go to the ground floor. The elevator dinged just as she was coming around the corner, the tell tale click of her heels on the floor. He held the door open and he waited until she was in the car to press the designated floor.
They were silent all the way down to the ground floor. He was waiting until there were no hidden microphones, no hidden cameras in the roof of the shaft, he was waiting until he had privacy. Privacy on a busy, noisy, LA Street to tell her what she could do to the rest of the plan.
The doors dinged and slid open and there was busy chatter on the other side. Sharon purposely strode through the small hallway and pushed her way through the turn style, nodding to the sergeant on the other side of the desk. The sergeant regarded Flynn but said nothing. He went back to his computer.
On the street, just before he made the right to go to the parking structure, Andy Flynn took a good look at the building before him. This was the home he fought for. This was the home he had fought for after Graduation day. This was the one he voted against to move. The old building was right behind him, a half a block away, but he still – this was his home.
It was the second one he was thrown out of. Involuntarily.
He made his way to Sharon Raydor and caught her around the wrist. She was already nearing the parking structure where she had parked her car. He spun her around and saw the surprise in her eyes. Her mouth had fallen open just enough for him to – no. He took a step back and dropped her hand.
"You're conspiring with the enemy." He said "This plan that you have, whatever it is could go south and instead of me getting the boot it'll be you."
"I'm aware of that," she nodded.
"Then why are you doing this?"
It was a smirk that he was left with as she walked away. He was going to regret this, but he went after her. He followed her up the two levels of stairs and to her car. Just as she was getting ready to close the door behind her, already in the driver seat, he caught it. Surprise flashed in her eyes. Maybe something else.
The tension melted after a handful of seconds. She narrowed her eyes at him and turned the key in the ignition, turning her engine over. She let him lean against the hood of her car as he dealt with whatever was bouncing back and forth in his head. She had seen that look in his eye from time to time over the last few weeks. He was debating with himself. Good idea or bad idea – whatever it was that he wanted to do.
It wasn't until after she clicked her belt into place, revved her engine just a bit that she gave him another look.
"Are you going to let me go home?" she asked.
He nodded and stood back, closing the door for her. He left the parking spot, left her and made his way for the stairs to go up another level where he had parked his own vehicle. The light tout of the horn had him stopping and turning. It was Sharon, rolling her passenger side window down and leaning over the center console.
"On my way home is a sandwich bar," she said. "You're more than welcome to join me. Or follow me."
"My car is up another floor," he said, shrugging. "I've got things to do."
"Get in," she said, popping the lock. "I'll give you a lift."
A lift was to the next floor where she sat until he got into his own and backed out of the car. A lift was what he gave her later on in the night when they finally left the sandwich bar and he had to take her around the corner to her car. A lift was the light bounce he had in his step when he walked up to his house at the end of the night. For once he felt good about himself. The realities and characters finally making sense in his head.
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