"What have you got?" Samantha yelled, climbing from the car. She and Vivian rushed over to the side of the docks, policeman and fisherman swarming around the crime scene.
Jack and Martin glanced up at the sound of Samantha's voice. They were standing over a lifeless corpse, one with vivid red hair, a bright green blouse and a nasty, deep ravine dug across her slender neck. Samantha slowed a step at the sight of Martin. Beautiful Martin. The duo had shared a rather intense, albeit quick, affair that had left Martin indifferent and aloof and she quietly devastated. She knew she hadn't treated him well and didn't blame him one bit for leaving her. Not that it eased the hurt any less.
"Meet Manela Cruz, 31," Jack answered, perusing his notes. "Non-traditional student from Manhattan College, getting her degree in nursing."
"And prostitute in Rinella's ring by night," supplied Martin.
"How do you know that?" Samantha asked.
"Her book bag-" he pointed to an object lying forgotten to the side, "- had her id and school books in it. Plus around $4,000 in cash."
"We cross referenced her name from the ones the other prostitutes gave us," Martin finished. He flittingly half-smiled at her then turned to Vivian. It was always like that, she noted. As if he wanted to be warm and inviting, but not sure if he should or could.
"Let's hope Jennifer hasn't met the same fate," Viv said, interrupting her thoughts.
Samantha glanced at the woman, her stomach clenching at the sight. The team had found out that Jennifer was involved in a high-class prostitution ring run by an uptown Manhattan lawyer, Tony Rinella. So far they had busted lawyers, bankers, teachers, all respectable women with respectable jobs looking to score a little extra cash or thrills on the side, away from their families and friends.
"Martin and Sam, stay here and interview the witnesses," Jack ordered. "Viv, come with me."
Splitting up, Samantha and Martin systematically interviewed each witness. As she gathered details, Samantha's eyes continued to stray to the hapless woman and her bright green shirt. What on earth would possess someone to willingly turn to this lifestyle?
Who are you to judge?
Samantha gasped loudly, taking an alarming step backward. The fisherman she was interviewing grabbed her arm instinctively, a look of concern crossing his features.
"Are you ok, Ma'am?" he asked.
Such a hypocrite. You always were.
Samantha shrugged off his hand. She looked around frantically, searching for the source of the voice. Her eyes settling back on the fisherman, she pulled herself together. "I…I'm sorry," she stammered. "I think that's all I need for now."
She excused herself and headed back to Martin's car. Vivian and Jack had already left to chase down a lead. She leaned heavily against the hood. That voice. She hadn't heard that voice in a very long time.
"Sam?"
She spun around. Martin was looking at her, annoyance written on his face. "Are you deaf? I kept calling your name," he accused, rudely.
"I'm sorry, what do you need?" she asked, averting her eyes.
He noticed her demeanor and visibly softened, regretting his harsh tone. "Are you ready to go?"
She nodded with a small smile and got into the car. They drove for a few miles in silence, Samantha lost in her thoughts, Martin struggling to not care. Caring won out.
"Is everything alright Sam?" he asked softly.
"She was so pretty," she whispered. "I just can't understand what drives women to do this, this lifestyle…" she trailed off waiting for the voice to confront her. It didn't.
"Everyone has a choice, some make the right ones, some take the easy and sometimes wrong way out," he said matter-of-factly. "Some don't understand the damage they are causing to themselves and to others. And maybe some just don't give a shit."
Samantha looked at him. His strong jaw was set and he was looking straight ahead. "That got personal really quick, yes?" she ventured.
He swallowed. "I'm sorry, I just…I'm sorry."
"You left me Martin," she reminded him bitterly. "That was your choice."
"You made the choice for me," he bit off, still refusing to look at her.
They came to a light, Martin easing the car to a stop. Samantha reached over and cradled his face, slowly bringing his eyes to her.
"I never meant to hurt you Martin…my life…it's so complicated."
The hurt shone in his eyes. "I told you. I'm not interested in waiting around until you figure out your problems." He firmly grabbed her hands and pulled them off of his face, returning his gaze forward. Samantha furiously blinked back the tears, her earlier paranoia forgotten.