A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter up but I needed to fix the plot to fit some events that I decided to include later in the story. It shouldn't take this long for the next chapter to get up. Meanwhile please enjoy this chapter.
Chapter 6
Corbett, overflowing with innocence, smiled at Hoffman when he walked through the door. "I saw you out there with that lady. Is she your girlfriend?"
"Amanda? No. She's just my friend." Hoffman picked Corbett up and sat her on the counter. He went to the trash can and tried to dust the rest of the flour on his head into the trash can. Corbett started to shake Hoffman's hair.
"I can keep a secret. I know she's the one in trouble so if you don't want people to know you like her I won't tell."
Hoffman smiled. "Corbett, just because I talked to a woman doesn't mean I like her."
"Whatever you say but my mommy all spent her time with a guy named Chris and they started dating."
Hoffman lifted his head up. "I though your parents were married."
"They are. My mom just had a boyfriend too. I thought was weird too but mommy explained it to me one day when he visited. She said they were close friends. But I saw them kissing later. See, I know something about relationships."
"Okay, I believe you. You don't have a boyfriend of your own do you?"
"No I don't. I'm only eight, silly." Corbett smiled and Hoffman smiled back.
"I was just checking. I wouldn't have like it if you had a boyfriend though."
"Marky, I think I'm too young for you."
Hoffman was about to say he didn't mean it the way Corbett thought but her bright smile and twinkling eyes convinced him to leave things as they were. He knew she didn't really like him. It was Stockholm syndrome. It would pass. "Ok, Corbett. We should finish making the cake."
Corbett got right back into baking. "I used to bake a lot with mommy before Dylan died. I miss her."
Swallowing his guilt Hoffman said, "I'm sure she'll be just fine. Her and your father."
It was night. Rigg was at home with his wife, Tracy. They had just finished dinner and were in the living room trying to find something to do. Rigg was looking for something to watch on TV. Flipping through the channels all he saw were stale dramas, odd reality shows, kid's cartoons, bad sitcoms and of course news programs filled with released information on the Jigsaw case. He ended up helping his wife with her work as a wedding planner. It always puzzled Rigg as to why Tracy wanted to make money helping brides pick from two similar bouquets with prices but it made her happy. Besides Tracy questioned why Rigg wanted to break into crack house and risk his life but it made Rigg happy, most of the time, so they always called it even. Shortly after arguing the differences between bridal gowns someone rung the door bell and Rigg got up to answer.
Standing at the door was Eric. He pulled himself together and looked half decent. He was back in his normal attire, a black t-shirt and jeans. On one foot he wore a navy blue sneaker. About there was where the normalcy of his clothes stopped. Eric was still wearing Jigsaw's brace. It was modified and cleaned but it was no doubt the one Jigsaw gave Eric. The metal was clean and polished. The leather straps were replaced. Finally foam was glued to the inside of the boot. His hair was still long and in fact brushed his stubble covered chin.
"Eric! What are you doing here?" Rigg asked, "And where's your crutch?"
"The crutch was starting to numb my arm so I left it. I can walk fine with out though."
"Alright. Get in here before you fall over." Rigg leaned Eric on to his shoulder and brought him into the kitchen. He put Eric's foot up on to another chair. He went over to get coffee and called Tracy. Tracy came in and hugged Eric when she saw him.
"Eric I was wondering when you were going to stop by." Tracy said.
"Hope I didn't come in to soon." Eric said.
"No. You know you're welcome here anytime. How's everything?"
"Alright. The doctor gave me some medicine to dull the pain in my foot. He said my ankle wasn't stable or something like that. Either way in doesn't matter, at least I'll be able to walk again."
"That's a real miracle, Eric." Tracy said. "You know they were showing pictures of the damage that the hospital released. It must have taken a lot of willpower to do that."
"It was just the circumstances. I don't like admitting it. Actually I don't think anyone wants to admit it but Jigsaw did actually help people. If it was for this brace I wouldn't have gotten any use of my foot back."
Rigg sat down and passed out the coffee. "I don't know about that. I mean Jigsaw was a serial killer. He was the textbook description of one. A lot of people died; I'll see that before I see any good out of him."
"Your opinion." Eric said as a rebuttal.
"My opinion? He took your son. He killed Kerry and Tapp and Sing. I was right there when that cage went off and broke Mitch's legs. He's trying to get rid of everyone."
"Rigg! Calm down. You're being paranoid." Tracy got up from the table. "I'm going to finish setting up this wedding I'm working on. You guys can argue with out me. Eric, you're welcome to stay the night so you don't have to make the trip back."
"Thanks, Trace. Looks like I'm staying here tonight." Eric lay back in his chair.
"Wait a minute. Is that why you're over here to spend the night?"
Eric took a sip of his coffee before answering because he knew Rigg would be mad at him. Rigg wasn't fond of Eric's choice to keep Amanda around and admitting he wanted to get away from her wouldn't help prove his point. It was a simple matter of irony and karma. He hurt Amanda. His new, or at least slightly changed, view of life told him to help her out. Beating people wasn't going to work anymore. It didn't work when it mattered most and wouldn't work now. He wanted to try helping her maybe it would work. Instead of trying to explain to Rigg the details of his plan Eric said, "Amanda got home before I did. I'm not going back inside that apartment until I get my gun back from work tomorrow."
Art sat in the jungle green armchair posed in the corner of his study. He was staring emptily at the phone. It reminded him of the high school days when he would wait at the phone to see if a girl was going to call him. However these circumstances were different. He wasn't waiting for a call but instead he was trying to will himself to make a call. In his effort to bring down Amanda as a serial killer he needed every piece of evidence, every anecdote, and every possible clue that would help him win. It wasn't just his reputation that he was trying to improve with this call however. It also carried a deep personal attachment.
Art wanted to call Jill. They were close friends at one time. Maybe not best friends but close in other ways. That's why he kissed her that one afternoon. There was certain chemistry between them; an unspoken attraction. In his mind the kiss wasn't completely inappropriate or at least that's what he told himself to keep him from being driven crazy by it. He thought that it was destined to happen between him and Jill just not at that time. Thinking about it was making him crazy again so he told himself it was okay; that he did nothing wrong and he was at peace again. Then he remembered he still had to call Jill.
Art continued to look at the phone. It was tedious even intimidating to see that phone in that corner. He braced himself and picked it up he looked at the number pad and slowly dialed each number. He waited, listened to the ring on the other end of the line and just a second before Jill would pick up the phone he slammed it down on the receiver. Just like high school. He thought, just like high school.
Art didn't want to delay it though. He looked at the phone, hit redial and took deep breaths waiting for Jill to answer and when she did he almost passed out. Remembering the professional aspects of the call he toughened up and said, "Jill, it's Art. Don't hang up. I don't care if you talk to me or not. But some things have gone unsaid for too long and I think that I should just tell you what I have to tell you okay?"
The other end was silent.
"Ok. I know why you won't talk to me. I know you think I'm a bad guy but you have to understand. It felt like the right moment. You don't pass up chances like that."
A long pause. Art stayed on the line. She wouldn't answer right away but he just knew she would. Five minutes went by. Feeling like an idiot, he almost hung up the phone then heard Jill say. "Wait, Art."
Art's heart almost stopped. "What it is?" He replied. He thought he sounded like a jerk saying that but didn't want to further prolong Jill's words.
"I don't think it's in my best interest to talk to you. I don't know what I want right now." Art turned his head. He hoped she didn't think he was hitting on her. "Art," Jill continued "You took advantage of me and I know you are going to do it again. I just know it. I won't help you put Amanda in jail."
"Jill, you do understand that she's a murderer?"
Jill sighed. "I know that but a lot is going on Art, more than you can understand. I just learned that John was murdered. I learned that the one man I truly loved is gone forever. It's crazy but I still love him. I don't know too much about Amanda Young but I know one thing she was like a child to John. Again maybe I'm not making the right choice but I know that John wouldn't let his daughter go to jail and he certainly wouldn't like it if I let her go to jail. So I can't help you."
"Jill! I don't what to say."
"There's nothing left to say art. I won't help you or forgive you. I don't want you in my life."
Art was at a lost for words. He hung up the phone before Jill could say anymore. It was really over. Jill was the last person he could count on to help turn Amanda in. If she didn't want to then what could he do? He sat around for a second. Devious thoughts entered his mind. He was a high powered lawyer with the city's resources in his hand at his disposal. He could make her life hell if she wouldn't cooperate. But how far was he willing to go to send someone to jail?
Eric grumbled and groaned in the bed and the flung himself up. He shook his head around throwing his long brown locks out of his sight. He remembered he was spending the night at Rigg's until he got back to work. He stood up looking around for his clothes. He had a habit of sleeping in his underwear and throwing his clothes in random places. Rigg and Eric were roommates so Rigg was used to it but it bothered Tracy a little.
A phone slammed out side of the door and he looked through the door. He heard the muffled yells of Rigg. "How could they do this? I was just doing my job as a cop. This is outrageous."
Eric put on his pants and shirt and walked out side. "What's outrageous?"
"The damn commissioner has suspended me pending an IA investigation. They're accusing me of tampering with Amanda's case." Rigg said
"Were you?" Tracey asked.
"I was helping out Mr. Blanc. He's the prosecutor and he was saying how he needed my help. I'm out until the case is closed and the investigation is complete! Can you believe this?!"
Eric shrugged. "I've dealt with IA before they'll harass you for a couple of months then back off. Don't worry."
"What am I going to do about the case then? Someone needs to get the facts in order."
Eric laughed. "Rigg. I've known you how long? You're looking at a detective right here. I mean they might have been accusing you because they think that because you aren't a detective and you have a personal tie in it you would warrant a mistrial. I'll keep tabs while you're gone."
"I'll trust you on this but don't hurt yourself."
"Got it." Eric said. "I'll clean my stuff up and get going."
"You're not changing you're clothes?" Tracey asked.
"My crazy roommate is still at home. She at home with knives so no."
Eric cleaned up the room he stayed. He fixed the bed took a shower and combed his hair. After getting a piece of toast for breakfast he swallowed the pain pills. Rigg tested him to make sure he could drive and sent him off.
When Eric made his official return to the station he was welcomed back with open arms. It was most likely an act of sympathy. Next to Rigg and Kerry almost everyone else was afraid of him. He was no stranger to temper tantrums and outbursts of rage causing everyone to avoid him. The Chief and Internal Affairs even restored him to his previous position as a field detective instead of leaving him with deskwork. Another act of sympathy and publicity since he was temporarily disabled. Lastly they returned to Eric his gun and badge. The eternal symbols of an active police officer, Eric never felt whole without them.
Even though Eric was back in work as a full detective he was still tied down to the office. Even worst he was partnered up with a rookie detective named Kate. Having a partner wasn't too bad. Eric enjoyed working with Kerry but the problem was Kate herself. She was overexcited and overeager. She was the type of person who plans to go in cases head first and have everything go her way. In a police station that wasn't a good idea since most of the times things can take a terrible turn.
Eric sat on the edge of the desk in the main squad room. He finally got out of the redesigned supply closet that he was confined in with Kerry. For the past half hour he was waiting for Kate who mysteriously vanished into the file room. When she returned she was carrying several boxes.
"Okay, here's all the stuff on the Jigsaw cases." Kate said.
"Great." Eric replied "Why do we have them?"
"To find out who the secret apprentice is."
"That's not our case. We're supposed to connect these robberies together."
"I know but if we solve it we can help close the case completely we'll go down in history as the people who closed the Jigsaw case."
Eric took the boxes back from Kate. "Sorry to disappoint you but I've had enough of being attached to Jigsaw. The old man's dead. His protégé is awaiting trial and there's only circumstantial evidence that there's another helper involved. Now I'm going to put these back. You can put together these robberies." Kate dropped in the chair and looked back to the robbery cases.
When Eric got to the storeroom he saw a little girl looking threw some of the boxes. She was still young maybe eight and had long brown hair. He placed the rest of the boxes on the table and kneeled down to the girl's level. "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"I'm looking for my friend." The girl said.
"Your friend? I can probably help you find them. What's their name?" Eric asked calmly. The girl didn't seem too scared though. She was actually quite friendly.
"Mark Hoffman."
"As a matter of fact I know exactly where he is. Do you want to follow me up there?" The little girl eagerly agreed. As Eric walked the girl to Hoffman's office she talked freely about everything. She said her name – Corbett, where she lived, her favorite things do. She also talked quickly managing to squeeze in all of it in a five minute ride up the elevator and walk to Hoffman's office. When they got in the office Corbett ran to Hoffman jumped in his lap while he sat.
"How did you get here?" Hoffman asked.
"I took a taxi." Corbett replied
"What happened to your tutor?"
"I told her she could go so she left. Now I can spend the day with you."
"Corbett, you can't stay here. I'm going to call back that tutor and you are going back home."
Corbett started to whine. "Please. I don't want to stay with her. I can help you out here. Please?"
Hoffman shook his head no. "I need to get some things straight here. You can't just come down here whenever you want. I have work to do and you need to stay with your tutor so you don't fall behind in your schooling. Also you're going to bed at eight from now on. I can't stay with you all night because I have to be here in the morning."
"But that's not fair! I won't see you when you get home!"
"I'm sorry but I'll be home on weekends so you'll still see me."
"It's not the same! I hate you!" Corbett jumped from Hoffman's lap and stormed out of the office. Hoffman sat in his chair. It was heart-breaking to see her runoff much less hear that he hates him.
Eric laughed, "Don't beat yourself up. All kids say that especially when they get to being teenagers. She'll get the idea soon. I'll go watch her for you while you call that tutor."
"Yeah. Thanks." Hoffman muttered. Eric went after Corbett and Hoffman decided to sulk more. If it wasn't for his and the tutor's plans he would have simply readjusted his rules. He wanted to just to see Corbett smile again but it was in her best interest to change things.
Eric came back to the apartment at the end of the day. He looked around and saw Amanda standing over the counter holding a knife. He creeped into the kitchen. Amanda looked at him with a big grin. "Eric." She giggled. "You didn't come home last night. I was worried." She stabbed it into the cutting board. "Or maybe I wasn't."
Eric looked at Amanda. Her hair was unkempt. Her eyes were wide and clueless. When she talked all of her words flowed together. She hardly seemed balanced and was about to fall over. Oh, great. Eric thought. She's drunk.
"Amanda. Put the knife down." Eric said.
"No! I like this knife." Amanda giggled again. She placed the knife on her wrist. "Do you think I'll do it?"
Eric shook his head. "No. I don't" he walked closer and closer to her. Back to his police training. Approach armed people slowly. Don't anger them. Have your own weapon ready. When Eric got close enough to grab the knife in her skin. Eric crept even closer. He grabbed Amanda's wrist. He tried to pull the knife away but she wouldn't let go. Eric pulled the knife up so neither one of them could get hurt. After twisting and turning for a few seconds, Eric squeezed her wrist hard enough to make her drop the knife. With that out of the way he grabbed her and restrained her. Eric grabbed her and pushed her to the couch. He turned her over and pinned her down placing handcuffs on her so she wouldn't move.
Amanda wriggled around and giggled the whole time. "Eric, I don't think we're close enough for you to be handcuffing me and you hurt my leg."
"I'm restraining you." Eric clarified. Amanda kept giggling and he got off of her careful not to hit her with his leg. He checked the kitchen to see what exactly she had been drinking. Beer bottles filled the trashcan. A half drunk bottle of sherry sat on the counter. Surrounding the cutting board was a bottle of vodka, Worcestershire sauce, tomato juice, lemon and celery. Amanda was fixing up a Bloody Mary when he came in. Eric advised, "You might as well go to sleep. I'm not letting you out until-" He turned to face her but she had passed out. Mercifully he put a pillow under head and threw a blanket over her. After trying to readjust the blanket so it would cover her appropriately without him having to touch her Eric left it alone and started to clean up the mess in the kitchen.
Amanda woke up the next morning with a hangover. It wasn't her first but it wasn't used to it either. The headaches stomach aches, dizziness nausea. It was a killer side effect to alcohol. Amanda was aware that her lack of self-control often put her in to the situations but she was also aware that if it wasn't for Hoffman she wouldn't have done it in the first place. While she tried to recuperate the blender in the kitchen started to go. Whirring grinding, and the newly heard sound of frying was all in her ears tormenting her. Of course it was Eric trying to cook. She tried to throw a pillow when she remembered that she was till on handcuffs.
"Eric turn that damn blender off!"
"Eric went on. Smiling and humming as if he couldn't hear. "I'm serious. Turn it off!" Eric continued to run the blender until the sound turn to a simple whirring noise. Infuriated Amanda started at the handcuffs.
Eric in the kitchen was fixing a breakfast that he tailored specifically for hangovers. A banana smoothies, eggs, and water. And bread. It was very helpful it cutting down the effects but the need to use a blender and to fry food makes it less than ideal for someone who's hung over to make themselves. He smiled not because he was feeling happy for helping but at out of spite. Any moment to make Amanda cringe was a moment worth taking advantage of. As he finished preparing the spread then he started on another plate for himself. As he was finishing of both things he watched Amanda wriggle around uselessly. He brought the food down to the coffee table and sat down next to Amanda. "Sleep good?"
"No! I was handcuffed." Amanda complained.
"That's your own fault. You're never going to get out of those by the way."
'Whatever you say." Amanda went on twisting and turning laughably. For second it appeared as if she was going to go through the middle of the cuffs.
"Here eat." Eric gave Amanda the plate of food. "It'll help you out with that hangover.
"No thanks. It's probably laced."
Eric put the food off to the side. "It's not. I wouldn't want to get rid of you." Amanda looked at him curiously. "What I mean is your company. It's boring to come home to quiet every night. You make things more. You really should eat something though. I promise it's not poisoned."
Amanda continued to struggle with her handcuffs. "Why do you care about me so much anyways? I almost killed you and Daniel."
"I don't care about you. Daniel on the other hand, he's never going to talk to me again. The last thing I said to him was to go back to his mother. Even if he wanted me to be okay I doubt he would still want to be around me."
"Eric, I'm pretty sure you've heard this before but," Amanda stopped talking and pulled her arms back one more time. She let out a high pitched squeal and there was a snap. She moved her arms forward and dropped the handcuffs in to Eric's hands. "You should never say never and thanks for making breakfast."
Eric looked at the mangled handcuffs. He looked at the handcuffs surprised. Amanda was much stronger than she appeared or maybe the handcuffs were made of cheap materials. He was sure it was the latter but hoped it wasn't true. It gave him a slim hope that if Amanda could break through the handcuffs. Maybe Daniel would break his silence.
