Thank you all for your lovely comments on the first chapter!
Phantom Hazards (2)
"So, let me get this straight..." Provenza arched wry eyebrows. "You've already got patrol officers, Traffic, and Robbery-Homicide involved in this mess – and it's safe to assume that FID isn't far behind, what with the suspect now dead... and you think what this situation needs is another division on the case?" He scoffed incredulously, "Who's in that trunk, Elvis?"
Taylor spared him an unamused sideways glare. "We don't know yet. That's the problem. The body's on its way to the ME, but apparently it's in pretty bad shape, and there was no ID on it." He glanced briefly back at TV, where the titles 'high-speed car chase', 'driver killed in shootout' and 'mystery body' were rolling in bold black letters across the top of the screen. Then he rolled his eyes, "I've only heard about this less than half hour ago, and I've already got reporters calling my cell phone. This story is going to be running on all the news channels, until we figure out who that dead body in the trunk belongs to, and how they died." He gave them all a pointed look. "So I want that figured out. Sooner, rather than later."
Sharon didn't bother to argue. "John Farris was connected to a Robbery-Homicide case, and his death falls under FID's purview. If we're taking over the investigation, then we're going to need all relevant files and evidence brought up from – "
"No, no," Taylor interrupted. "I'm not giving you the case."
Her eyebrows rose slowly. "You're not," she repeated in a deliberate tone. It took a small effort to refrain from asking why they were even having the conversation, in that case.
"Robbery-Homicide can't process the scene, not with two of their detectives involved in the OIS," he clarified. "Until FID files their report on Farris' death, it's better if no one in Robbery-Homicide has any in the active investigation... it spares us unnecessary legal trouble down the road."
Sharon suppressed an eye-roll. That sounded like a pretext, and not even a particularly good one, at that. There were plenty of amendments to the rule he was invoking: the second dead body being clearly unrelated to the OIS, Robbery-Homicide could've easily investigated it...and besides, there were well over a dozen detectives in that division, and it would've been easy to pick a couple who'd had nothing to do with the Farris case previously.
But no. The real reason to pull Major Crimes in was that Taylor wanted a speedy conclusion, and for that, her team was his best bet by far. However, by not transferring them the case officially, he was saving himself overtime budget and a lot of paperwork explaining why it was necessary to involve her elite division . In other words, it was a move that worked out entirely to his advantage.
And if that move left them not only doing work that wouldn't count toward their stats in any way, but also in a very dubious position in terms of investigative authority, well...Sharon was sure that the Assistant Chief was extremely distressed by that.
But she spoke none of her thoughts aloud. It wouldn't have lead anywhere but to an unnecessary and uncomfortable argument.
"I want you to look into the second body, while FID processes the OIS-related death," Taylor went on with his instructions. "After seventy-two hours, you can turn whatever you've got back over to Robbery-Homicide."
Sharon smoothly cut over the beginning of Flynn and Provenza's indignant protests. "If we're investigating the second victim's cause of death," she said in her best business tone, "we might still need information about Farris – his file from Robbery-Homicide, as well as other evidence from the crime scene."
The Assistant Chief waved a hand, "Fine. Get what you need from Robbery-Homicide. Just get to the bottom of this," he repeated. "Because those news helicopters caught the whole thing on tape, it's already all over the social media as well." He looked irritated. "The longer this goes on without some answers, the worst it'll look for the LAPD."
"Can't have that," muttered Provenza.
He ignored the glare from Taylor, and wondered if the refusal to officially hand them the case meant that they wouldn't work overtime and he could still make it to dinner with Patrice.
In his opinion, the Captain didn't look sufficiently annoyed by the fact that they were essentially being used as glorified crime scene techs – and without any overtime, too! – but Provenza could understand why she wouldn't want to bother with a lost battle. If Taylor wanted them to do Robbery-Homicide's legwork for free, there wasn't a whole lot that any of them could do about it.
He dropped back into his chair and swiveled it slightly to face her as she began to talk.
"Let's work on ID-ing the victim while we wait for Dr. Morales' report on cause of death. Mike, can you ask SID to send us any prints they collected so we can run them through AFIS?"
Tao had sat down as well, and was already checking his computer. "Yes... oh. Actually, I think they might've already sent them over..." His eyes moved quickly as he read whatever was on his screen, then he pressed a few keys. "Yup. We got the prints from SID. I'll start the search. And I think they're faxing us the CI's preliminary report, too, we should have that in a minute."
The Captain nodded her thanks, already moving on. "We're also going to need that information on the dead driver – Andy, can you please get someone in Robbery-Homicide to send us his file? And – Mike," (she turned back to Tao), "the car should be in SID's print shed soon. I'd like you to go and take another look at the trunk where the dead body was found." She pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking. "We'll have to share the rest of the crime scene evidence with FID... I'll contact them and set that up."
As she conjured her phone seemingly out of thin air, Provenza idly tried to remember the last time he'd seen her without it. He couldn't; she might as well have been glued to the damn thing, lately. She took a long, thoughtful look at the screen, before walking a few steps to the side to call whoever she wanted to talk to in FID. (Satan, probably.)
He watched her for a moment as she dialed, and though God knew that he'd never been accused of possessing much in the way of empathy, he couldn't help but admire her balancing act. It was damn impressive. Anyone could say what they willed, but Raydor could certainly juggle a whole lot of nasty balls at once... and, she made a good show of it, too. It probably took... well, it probably took a whole damn lot. More than he'd thought she had in her when they'd first began to butt heads over Major Crimes. He knew better, now.
Behind him, the printer buzzed to life, bringing his thoughts back on the present. Provenza quit staring at the Captain (one idiot doing that all day was enough, thank you very much) and walked over to pick up the fax of Kendall's initial findings.
He shook his head as he skimmed the two-page report. No murders ever looked good, but some just looked particularly depressing, and this one was quickly shaping up to fit that bill. There were a lot of sick bastards in this world, that much was sure.
"Yeah, I know he's the guy from the car chase, why do you think I'm asking?!" At the next desk, Flynn had obviously gotten through to Robbery-Homicide. "Just – yeah, and now we're working the dead body in his trunk." A pause. "The freakin' Easter bunny – who do you think put us on the case? Yeah – of course it was Taylor... Look, just get someone up here with your case file on the guy, okay? Yes. No we're not working with FID...what the hell's the matter with you?"
He gave Provenza his exasperated 'can you believe this idiot' look, and Provenza shrugged back with a smirk. He'd never stop finding it entertaining to hear Flynn talk to Robbery-Homicide. The man tended to revert a little to his younger self, then. The self that got sent to sensitivity training at least a couple of times and racked up two dozen reprimands for his loud mouth.
It was hilarious, really.
At her desk, Sykes was just ending what looked like a far more pleasant phone conversation. "Both Farris and our second victim just made it to Dr. Morales," she provided after hanging up. "He'll call as soon as he's got anything for us."
Provenza nodded, then turned his attention back to the Captain as she ended her own call and walked back over to them.
"Sgt. Elliot is sending us copies of the crime scene photos," she updated, "and they'll keep us up to date on any new evidence from the scene." Her gaze fell on the paper in the lieutenant's hands. "Is that the CI's preliminary report?"
Provenza handed it to her. "Looks like the body in the trunk was female. Kendall put her age between eighteen-nineteen and twenty-six. He doesn't have an exact estimate of cause of death, but..."
Her lips twisted as she read: "Significant trauma to the head and upper body." She looked up from the page to meet his eyes, and murmured, "She was beaten to death...?"
The lieutenant sighed. "Or run over, pushed out of a moving vehicle...it's possible that she could've had some sort of accident, as far as we know."
Sharon nodded vaguely, but she looked as unconvinced as he felt. People who died in accidents didn't usually end up stuffed in trunks. "Did John Farris have a history of violent behavior?"
"If he did, it's not in his arrest record." Julio glanced up from his computer screen as he updated them: "He was busted once for petty theft, and caught buying drugs and soliciting a couple of times, but there's nothing in here about battery or assault."
"Robbery-Homicide's file on him might have more details," offered Sykes.
Flynn confirmed, "Yeah. They're sending someone up with it."
He got in one last eye-roll over his phone call with Robbery-Homicide, and Provenza shot him back a commiserating eyebrow-wriggle. Then his eyes returned to the Captain as she read through the CI's report, and his thoughts to the young woman likely beaten to death and stuffed in a trunk.
Sharon took another few moments to read the rest of the report, but there wasn't much more detail. The body had been in bad enough shape that Kendall hadn't been able to draw many more conclusions beside her gender, age and a quick summary of the extensive trauma. There were no crime scene photos available for them, yet – they'd have to wait on SID to send some over, and then on FID for whatever other crime scene evidence they had...
The prints were running, but it could be a while before AFIS returned any hits. The ME's preliminary analysis, too, would also take at least another hour, if not longer. Normally, Sharon would've used this time to look into the driver and notify his next of kin, but that wasn't their case, as Chief Taylor had made abundantly clear, so that left them with... nothing.
She hated dead time. Especially when it was late in the afternoon already, and late in the week, and they were all tired and not at all eager to stay over time expending their efforts for a case they couldn't even lay proper claim to and no extra pay.
She hated it even more now, when so much of her worried about every second she spent away from home. Always weighing the necessity of doing her job against constant anxiety over the safety of her child... It was a fragile balance on the best of days.
No. Time, these days, was too precious to waste waiting around. She could do more.
She turned to her youngest detective. "Amy. Could you contact Dr. Morales and ask if he can get us dental records right away? ID-ing our victim is a priority, and I'd like more than just her prints to go on."
The younger woman acknowledged immediately. "I'll call the morgue."
Sharon frowned as she thought of something else: "The car – Chief Taylor said it was flagged in the system. Let's find out why... and let's check that it was actually registered to John Farris," she added as an afterthought. If it wasn't his car, they might just have another suspect... one who wasn't dead and under FID's authority for the moment. "And Buzz, can you please get the available footage of the car chase?"
"Uh – Captain?" Tao was putting down his phone. "SID just brought the car into the print shed. I can go take another look at the trunk where they found our victim..."
She nodded her approval. "Yes, go ahead, Mike." For another quiet moment, she surveyed the team, thinking of the next step they could take. By habit, her eyes drifted to the murder board – but other than the picture of Alice in the top corner, it was blank and empty. They didn't have a name of the current victim, or even a photo to put up there yet.
Still, at least they weren't stuck waiting around idly anymore. Everyone had something to work on, some small progress they could make while more information trickled in.
"Alright," she decided. "Let's go from here, for now. We'll re-evaluate once we have the actual evidence in hand, and the autopsy results." With that, she turned and started to head to her office... but after a couple of steps, she paused.
She'd suddenly remembered what had been going on before Taylor had dropped this on them.
With a mental sigh, she half-turned back toward the team.
"Julio." She spoke his name quietly, and waited for him to look up. "I'd like to talk you in my office, please."
He waited silently across from her desk, even after she'd sat down.
Sharon held out a hand to indicate one of the chairs. "Have a seat."
He didn't. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, back straight, hands crossed behind his back. His jaw was set in a rigid line.
Sharon waited a moment to see if he planned to take her up on her offer to sit. Absurdly, she found herself hoping that she wouldn't have to have this talk craning her neck up at him; that was a headache waiting to happen.
A ridiculous thing to be worried about, at the moment.
When a few seconds ticked by and Julio still made no move to sit, she arched her eyebrow, just a little.
"I didn't touch that guy! ...Ma'am." The belated addition didn't do much to make his vehement statement sound better.
"I know."
Julio looked doubtful. He didn't say anything else, instead going back to staring somewhere over her shoulder.
For God's sake. She wasn't trying to get state secrets out of him...! The stony silence reminded her of the first time she'd had to interview the detective, over the Turrell Baylor disaster. It was possible that he'd been more open with her, then – no small feat, considering that their interview on that occasion had consisted entirely of several minutes of pointed staring on his part.
Sharon's stomach churned with an abrupt mixture of sadness and anger. She didn't know exactly what turns she'd missed, with Julio... but it couldn't be denied that she hadn't done right by him as his commanding officer. She should've paid more attention, earlier. Instead she'd let things run a questionable course because there had been so much more going on, and now... now, whatever happened to him, she'd have at least part of the responsibility.
It did not feel good.
It felt even less good to think that it might have been too late to be useful to him, at this point.
Her silence was making Julio uncomfortable, too; fidgeting slightly, he finally looked at her, and he gave an indistinct twitch somewhere between a scowl and a shrug.
Sharon didn't know exactly what to say. Repeating her invitation to sit would've been futile, and, if he refused again, just another source of tension – which they had more than enough of, already. But she wasn't sure where to start. She hadn't figured out the best approach. If there even was a best approach, she didn't know that she could trust herself to find it.
Her problem-solving skills worried her, these days.
"Does FID want me suspended?"
Sharon considered the question for a moment. She wasn't certain of the answer, herself. "It hasn't come to that point yet, no," she said judiciously.
Julio's shoulders twitched again, and his expression looked as though he were about to ask if he could go, in that case.
Sharon narrowed her eyes at him. He could refuse to sit if he wanted, but he wasn't going anywhere.
He must've read her expression correctly, because the scowl returned. "I'm doing what they wanted, Ma'am. Going to those anger management meetings. Twice a week." He sounded half-defensive, half-accusatory. "I thought that was the deal."
Hm. "The 'deal'," she replied calmly, "was that you would work to address the excessive use of force that FID identified as problematic conduct. The anger management is only a tool that's supposed to assist with that." Her head tilted. "Tell me – do you feel that it has?"
His jaw clenched stubbornly. "I didn't hit that suspect, Captain."
Again with that. "I know. Julio – Sgt. Staples has already examined the video of the arrest and agreed that the complaint against you is entirely unfounded," she clarified. "That's not why we're having this conversation."
It could be that his shoulders relaxed fractionally, but it was hard to tell for sure. Another moment of dead silence followed, as he volunteered nothing else.
And Sharon still didn't know how to get to him.
She sighed, and leaned back into the seat slightly.
"How's your mother feeling?" she asked in a soft tone.
Julio paused. She could see mild confusion flicker across his face, and was suddenly embarrassed to realize that she hasn't asked him that question in over a month.
Sometimes, it was hard to remember what she had done for the past month.
"She's good, Ma'am," said Julio. "Her ribs are totally healed."
Sharon smiled. "And her back?"
The corners of his lips turned fractionally upward. "Doctor told her she could stop using the walker last week. Now she wants me to let her drive herself to the supermarket."
Her smile grew, a little. She liked Julio's mother. "That sounds like a good sign for her recovery," she joked.
Julio smirked, briefly, but after a moment his expression turned neutral again, and he shifted in his spot once more. "With all due respect, Captain... I don't think you called me in here to talk about my mother."
Oh.
Sharon let out a soft breath, and hoped she didn't look as disappointed as she felt about the abrupt shift. Honestly, she'd asked about Mrs. Sanchez out of genuine interest...but she also couldn't blame Julio for thinking otherwise. Considering the circumstances.
She cleared her throat, and agreed, "No." For a moment, she was silent, considering how to proceed from there. "Julio... tell me. Do you find the anger management classes helpful?"
He let a moment pass in silence. Then he met her eyes, his expression studiedly blank. "Helpful in what way, Ma'am?"
Sharon pressed her lips into a thin line.
That was what she'd thought.
She really should have talked to him about this earlier.
Letting out another long breath, she leaned forward and steepled her hands in front of her. "You may not have been aware of this," she explained in a patient tone, "but since the anger management was mandated as a direct consequence of the IA investigation into your professional conduct, both Sgt. Staples and myself can request brief periodic updates on your progress, from your psychologist."
"He's not my psychologist," grumbled Julio.
Ah.
Sharon wasn't a therapist – and she didn't want to be. She didn't think that psychoanalyzing other people from her own limited perspective would be particularly helpful to them, so she made it a point to not make too many inferences to that effect. But it didn't take a psychiatry degree to see Julio's strong resistance to the whole idea.
"You signed up for the group anger management sessions, correct?" He nodded, and she sighed. "And how do you find them, so far?"
When the detective just shrugged again, her jaw twitched in irritation. This was excruciating – and it didn't help that she was starting to lose her patience.
"Do you feel that they're making a difference in how you're able to control your temper...?" she tried. "Is participating in this as part of a group working for you...?"
Julio shrugged – again.
Sharon exhaled impatiently.
It was ironic that he was the one looking frustrated. "I don't know what you want me to say, Captain," he told her with a dark look. "I go to the meetings twice a week, like IA wants me to. I stay for the whole time. I listen to what the guy has to say. And I haven't. hit. anyone," he added fiercely. "Even when they deserved it." He went from glowering at the corner of her desk, to meeting her eyes again. "And if that psychologist's telling you differently, then he's lying!"
Sharon rubbed a hand to her forehead.
"He's concerned – and has expressed this concern to Sgt. Staples," she replied, "that you might not be taking the sessions as seriously as you could."
"I didn't miss a single session," he repeated stubbornly.
Oh, for the love of...
That headache that she'd been anticipating had started to make its away around the back of her head.
"Julio – the point of sending you to these sessions," she spoke again, quietly, "was to give you access to a set of strategies for managing your anger, yes. But, they could also be an opportunity for you to investigate the sour – "
Her phone went off, beeping and buzzing against the desk.
For a moment, she was so focused and intent on getting through to Julio, that she fully meant to ignore the call and deal with it later. Her hand was halfway to the ignore button when she realized what she was doing – and the jarring anxiety that had accompanied nearly every phone call lately kicked in, derailing her train of thought.
She startled and glanced at the screen with renewed attention, recognizing the name of the Robbery-Homicide captain.
She couldn't let it go to voicemail. Partly because their current case had to take priority over any internal issues, especially if it was as time-sensitive as Chief Taylor had made it sound. But it was also partly because her heart had skipped a beat when she'd seen the caller ID from Robbery-Homicide, and though in the next instant it had been obvious, completely obvious, that their captain was calling about the case, a small doubt at the back of her mind urged her to pick up, right away, immediately.
Sharon glanced back up at her detective. If anything, he looked relieved at the interruption and more than eager for an excuse to leave.
She let out a silent sigh as she gave it to him. "Excuse me, Julio, but I have to take this."
Unsurprisingly, he nodded "No problem, Ma'am," and took a step back.
"Please think about what we've discussed," she urged, before he could march out. "And we'll have to pick this conversation up again soon."
He retreated quickly, with a muttered "Yes, Captain" that couldn't have sounded more unenthused if he'd tried. Sharon allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes, trying to bring some semblance of order back into her conflicting thoughts and to redirect her split attention to the still-ringing phone.
She found that her hand was shaking a little as she reached to pick it up.
Aaand for our next installment of "Sharon is having the best day ever, and nothing is problematic at all", we will have unicorns and rainbows and confetti! Please stay tuned.
(...Wait, false advertising is illegal? Okay then - we will in fact continue to have murder and drama and angst! Please stay tuned anyway.)
;) Thank you all for reading.