2. Big League Chew

SVU Squad Room

Manhattan, New York

Friday, August 14, 2009 – 8:13 a.m.

Captain Cragen anxiously paces the bullpen, exhibiting his stress in familiar channels. Hands deep in his pockets, lines of worry on his forehead, toothpick in his mouth. After a few passes, he turns toward his detectives. "Do we have anything, people?"

"No sir," Fin responds. "Elliot and I didn't find a damn thing at the park." He throws down a map with symbols drawn on various spots in the park.

"And the friend?" Cragen spins to face Munch.

"Didn't see a thing," Munch says while leaning back in his chair. He steeples his fingers and continues to relay his findings, "Owen said he and Robbie were racing to the playground. Owen tripped and fell but Robbie kept going. When Owen should have caught up, Robbie was nowhere to be seen."

While everyone listens intently to Munch, Elliot's eyes shift from his pacing captain to his partner. After watching her for several minutes, he concludes that she's too quiet. She sits at her desk, like she has all morning, staring at the linoleum through squinted eyes. He can tell she's lost in another world, presumably Robbie's.

His morning has been spent trying to bring her up to speed on the case, hoping it will spark her fire. Hoping it will bring the Olivia he's come to know and love back from this dark place of doubt. Silently he calls to her, trying to get her attention. He tries to get her to look at him. But her only movements are the rising and falling of her shoulders as she takes slow breaths.

This new Olivia has him worried. He'd never known she kept her mother's bottle of gin; he'd never known she sat in a dark apartment staring at it.

He's never seen her quite this quiet.

"What's our next move?" Cragen's booming voice pulsates through the bustling squad room.

"I want to go back to the park," Olivia says softly to the floor.

Four heads snap to her. Her first statement of the day resonates heavily with powerful emotion.

"Liv," Elliot says gently to her. "Fin and I checked the park. There was nothing. Just like all the others."

"I want to go back," she states quietly but resolutely. "I have a feeling. I just…there's something. There's something we missed," she says. As she thinks her eyes shift from side to side.

Each man reads the meaning behind her words. They share a barrage of concerned looks then all eyes fall on Elliot. He moves his body in a gesture of equal confusion. Cragen takes a sharp breath then stares off to the side and nods his head once. He exhales slowly through his nose. As he removes the toothpick he opens his mouth.

"Fine. Benson, Stabler go back to the park," he says gruffly. He doesn't see the point of revisiting the park, but at this point they have nothing to lose. "Re-canvas the area and keep me posted. Munch, Fin I want you to visit the previous victims. See if they can remember anything."

Cragen shifts his eyes around the room, letting them fall on each detective for a few seconds before moving to the next. He nods his head again, sticks the toothpick back in his mouth and walks assertively back to his office.

Outside of the 16th Precinct

9:19 a.m.

"Liv," Elliot utters as he climbs in to the driver's side of the sedan. "What are you expecting to find?"

"I don't know, El. I just have a feeling. There's something there this time. I can feel it."

She doesn't look at him when she speaks. Her eyes stay glued to the window and her arms wrap tightly around her body. His immediate reaction to her position is to place his hand on her shoulder. To calm her anxious nerves. To comfort her. To show her his support. But he resists since their friendship had never been one for reassuring gestures.

Before he starts the car he turns in his seat to face her. "Liv are you okay?" He asks her again.

"I'm fine, Elliot," she responds softly for the fifth time, not including when she pre-empted his question first thing this morning. She grits her teeth and breathes heavily in annoyance.

He tightens his jaw and accepts her answer, not really given another choice.

Central Park – North End

New York, New York

10:06 a.m.

The sedan is barely parked before Olivia has her door open and one foot on the pavement. Once she has fully extracted herself from the car she straightens her back, sets her shoulders and starts walking toward the park without a word.

As she walks her pace quickens. She is desperate to find something this time. Distance fades as she takes determined step after determined step. She moves swiftly toward the spot marked on the map. After a few minutes of not hearing her partner's steps behind her, she slows giving him the opportunity to catch her.

Several feet later she's standing off the path in the part of the park known as The Ravine. Ninety acres of woodland in the upper park; home to many of the park's 26,000 trees; possible final resting place of Robbie Baker. Olivia scans the area from left to right trying to get her bearings.

A few moments later Elliot closes the distance and steps up beside her. They stand side-by-side breathing in the summer air, watching as the light filters through the trees and hearing the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. She looks to her right and peers into his eyes briefly before turning to face forward again. After sweeping her eyes over the serene landscape a few more times, she breathes in and starts walking northeast.

She dodges fallen trees and large masses of rocks. Her neck cranes as she tries to peer through the thick brush. Insects dive and dart around her head as she ducks low branches and spider webs. She stalks further and further in to the woods, hoping for a clue.

Several minutes later her eyes catch something red, fluttering in the light breeze. "Elliot!" Olivia turns on her heel looking for her partner.

"What'd you find?" He asks running up to her.

"Look," she says holding up a small piece of fabric. "Wasn't Robbie was wearing a blue and red striped shirt when he went missing?"

"Yeah," Elliot says with wide eyes. "This wasn't here yesterday." He looks at Olivia shocked. His eyes swear to her that it wasn't there, that he and Fin didn't miss it – that he and Fin didn't let her or Robbie down.

"What's this?" Olivia asks, stretching the fabric between her latex covered fingers. "Blood?" She looks at the light blue stained with red and turns to Elliot with a frightened look.

Elliot narrows his eyes and touches the fabric. "Too light. Maybe juice," he says as he leans in to sniff the piece of shirt.

Looking at him through a scowl, Olivia tries to make sense of the clue. "Juice?"

"His mom didn't mention any stains." He looks up and shakes his head. "Maybe it's from the perp?"

"No," Olivia whispers lowly, truths soaking her tone.

"He plans it all out," Elliot states instead of questions. They both know this is the most probable scenario.

"Shit," she groans. Her frustration knots like her hair as she tries to run her fingers through the long strands.

"Should we see if there's any DNA? Maybe there's a hair or something," Elliot suggests while continuing to scrutinize the swatch of fabric. "Munch mentioned getting a toothbrush from the mother when he dropped her off yesterday."

Olivia stares at the piece of cloth, her mind trying to catch up with the implications the clue holds. "Can we look a little further down?" She asks, almost pleading with him.

He is about to argue when a voice in his head stops him. Elliot absorbs the look on her face then nods his head. Before she turns to move ahead, he takes the piece of torn shirt and places it in an evidence bag.

Central Park

New York, New York

Thursday, August 13, 2009 – 4:30 p.m.

"I'm still thirsty," Robbie says wearily as he steps over a large fallen tree.

"I don't have any more juice until we get there, Robbie," the lanky figure says as he starts to lose a little patience with the small boy's complaining. "What happened to the juice I gave you?"

"I spilled it."

Robbie looks down at his shirt. The red stain starts at his chest and runs down the front of his shirt until a large tear interrupts it. After running into a jagged branch earlier, he lost the well-fought battle. The branch's prize – a piece of his shirt.

The stranger rolls his eyes and continues to hike further along the unmarked, unkempt trail. A few minutes later he stops, no longer hearing the shuffling behind him. As he turns around he sees the little boy is nowhere to be seen.

"Robbie?" He asks with slight panic in his voice. After a few seconds of no response he begins to retrace his steps. "Robbie," he calls more insistently.

"Yeah?" The little boy peeks his head out from around a tree.

"What are you doing?" He asks as he watches the little boy crouch down to pick up small purple strands dispersed among the dirt and fallen leaves.

"I dropped it," Robbie says picking up a handful. He dusts off some of the dirt then jams it in his pocket. "Want some?" Robbie offers the next handful to the tall figure.

"No," the stranger says disgusted.

"You can have some that didn't fall on the ground," the little boy says and hands the stranger a small package.

The tall form leans down and takes the waxy, foil lined paper pouch and opens it. As he reaches in, he pinches a bunch of the purple strands then shoves them in his mouth. After chewing for a few seconds he hands the pouch back to Robbie who smiles triumphantly. Once the package is folded in half, he stuffs it in his back pocket.

"Look we need to hurry, Robbie, or we're going to run out of daylight. Plus once we get there I have a surprise for you."

At the mention of a surprise, Robbie drops his handful and wipes his dirty hand down his shorts. He smiles widely then stands up. Quickly he walks in the direction the stranger had traveled moments before. As the detached figure straightens up hesmirks. After his hand wipes down his face and erases the evil look he trots gently to catch up with the little boy.

Central Park

New York, New York

Friday, August 14, 2009 – 10:18 a.m.

Olivia's breaths quicken as she crouches down to a small mound of dirt. "El! I've got something!" She picks up some of the purple slivers, careful not to disturb the surrounding earth. As she holds them close to her face, she inspects them.

"Whatcha got?" Elliot asks weaving around trees and foliage to get to her.

"I don't know. What do you make of this?" She asks and lifts her hand to his face.

Elliot bends and squints at the strings of purple. He breathes in the almost sacchariny sweet smell. A knowing grin spreads on his face.

"Big League Chew," he states smiling.

"What?" Olivia asks.

"It's bubble gum. It's supposed to emulate chewing tobacco. It even comes in this pouch with a baseball player on the front. My kids love it."

"Great," Olivia says rolling her eyes. "What a fantastic message to send to kids."

Elliot shakes his head at her, not understanding how she didn't get the ingenious concept of it. "No this fits, Liv," he says excitedly. "Robbie loves baseball. He would be carrying around Big League Chew. This has to be his."

"Got a bag?" Olivia asks looking up at her overly proud partner.

Elliot reaches into his jacket and removes an evidence bag then hands it to her. She takes it, places all the remaining pieces of Big League Chew in the bag. Then she adds some of the surrounding dirt and leaves and seals it. After handing the bag back to Elliot, she dusts off her gloved hands by swiping them against each other.

"What do you think happened?" She asks him.

"I dunno. Think he dropped it? Or do you think it was forcibly knocked away or taken from him?"

Olivia stands up and pans the area. She places one hand on her hip and shields the stabbing rays of sun from her eyes with the other.

"I don't see the package," she states. "And it looks like he was trying to pick it up." Olivia points to the small trenches dug in the mound of dirt and leaves. "I wonder what made him not finish," she thinks out loud. After pondering it for a moment she starts walking with a contemplative look in her eyes.

Elliot remains in the spot continuing to look around the area for more clues. After not seeing anything of value he starts trudging after his determined partner.

Central Park

New York, New York

Thursday, August 13, 2009 – 5:11 p.m.

"I'm tired," Robbie whines as he drags his feet in the dirt.

"Robbie, I told you. We're almost there. I thought you wanted to be part of this," the stranger barks tersely.

"I just wanna go home. I want my mom." Robbie stops and stamps his foot on the path. He yawns for the sixth time in the last ten minutes then clutches his stomach. "My tummy hurts."

"Just a little farther. I promise."

The little boy puffs out a breath and silently starts moving forward. Within fifteen minutes they've reached another massive tree also outfitted with a modest structure. But this one is only half complete.

"What do you think?" The stranger asks while looking up at his secret hideout.

"Wow." Robbie gazes openmouthed at the tree and drops his arm to the side.

"You ready to help me finish it?"

"Yeah!" Robbie exclaims enthusiastically.

As they climb up the ladder, the stranger's eyes narrow and he tries to contain his sneer. Once they've reached the top, Robbie takes a minute to look around. The stranger walks along the far wall and retrieves something off a small table. When the mesmerized boy turns he is handed a rubber block and a piece of sandpaper.

A sickening smile emerges on the stranger's dry lips as he leads the eager little boy over to a small workbench. He tells Robbie to sand the multiple pieces of wood until they are smooth. Robbie nods his head excitedly. Immediately, he starts to work. Once he's satisfied the young boy was occupied, the slithery figure begins working on his own small projects.

After an hour of silent work, the still nameless man turns to Robbie with a smile. He watches intently for a few minutes. As if feeling the coldness from the man's dark eyes, Robbie looks up to see the stranger staring at him.

"How are you doing, Robbie? Almost done?"

Robbie glances toward the unfinished stack of wood then looks back offering no response. The stranger slithers over to Robbie and sees that the little boy has completed about half of the pile. He takes one off the finished pile and holds it close to his face to study it.

"Very good."

Robbie smiles widely at the praise.

The tall figure motions for Robbie to come closer to him. When Robbie is within an arm's length, the stranger slides his hand down the side of his leg. His hand tightens around the cold metal head of the hammer that always hangs from his carpenter jeans. Swiftly the stranger lifts the tool from the loop and brings it to the boy's face. He flips it in his hand, offering Robbie the wooden handle.

"Nail this in here," the tall figure says and points.

The small boy takes the offering and smiles again. Once all the sanded boards are nailed in place the stranger turns to the young boy.

"Are you ready for a break?"

The response comes in the form of a large yawn and lethargic nod of the head.

"Good, then you can have your surprise." His mouth lifts into a satisfied smile.

Central Park

New York, New York

Friday, August 14, 2009 – 5:32 p.m.

As Elliot takes a step he slips on a slick patch of leaves for the tenth time. His eyes turn toward the sky. He searches for the clear blue through the canopy of trees. "Liv, we're going to lose daylight."

"Sunset is around eight, we have plenty of time," Olivia responds looking at her watch.

"We've been out here since ten this morning, Liv."

"If you want to give up, fine. I'll catch a cab back to the house."

"Olivia, I'm not leaving you out here by yourself when there's a rapist on the loose."

"I'm a grown woman. I'm not a civilian; I can take care of myself, Elliot." She huffs loudly and continues scouring for clues on the forest floor.

Elliot smiles at her wording. He's heard that from her before, more times than he's willing to admit.

As he watches her lose her footing slightly, his frustration resurfaces. "Olivia. This is ridiculous. Let's get the clues we do have to the lab. Maybe the perp's in the system. We've been spinning our wheels for hours. Let's just call it a day."

Olivia spins to him so fast she almost slips. "Do you think Virginia Baker can just call it a day? Do you think Robbie can just call it a day?" She spits at him outraged. "What if it was Eli who was missing, Elliot? Would you want the detectives to just 'call it a day' because they hadn't found anything in a few hours? Or would you want them to keep going? Especially when they had a few clues and there was promise of a few more. This is more evidence than we've had in the other three cases combined."

"Geez Liv," he says and runs his hand over his head. "We've been out here for over seven hours with only two clues. I know you want to catch this guy. I do too. Believe me, if it were my kid I would want the detectives out here combing every part of the woods but we're not making any progress. We're only two people."

"Just a little longer. Please?" Her eyes beg and plead with him. She needs to find something to link someone to these heinous crimes – she needs it like her own life depends on it.

"Fine. Forty-five more minutes. But if Kathy calls screaming about it I'm handing you the phone."

Olivia stops in her tracks. The rigidity in her back causes her to stand straighter. "Crap," she says and turns to him. "You weren't supposed to be spending time with the kids tonight were you?"

"No."

She breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay good," she says releasing her clenched heart.

They separate once again. Each in pursuit of anything that will help them stop this animal from preying upon another young boy. After a while Elliot stops and wipes the sweat from his brow. He glances down at his watch to see that thirty-eight minutes have elapsed since they last spoke. Thirty-eight minutes of nothing but frustrated prayers. Prayers asking for a clue or a footprint or something. He is about to call Olivia and convince her to give up for the night when a small object catches his eye.

"Olivia!" He hears the cracking of a stick and the sound of leaves scraping against the ground as she stops and turns toward him. "Olivia! I found something."

Her feet carry her to him rapidly. When she is within a foot of him, she slows trying to catch her breath.

"What does this look like to you?" Elliot asks holding up a purple mass caught between his fingers.

Olivia's eyes open widely and a small smile plays on her lips. "A wad of Big League Chew."

"What are the odds it's the perp's?" He proposes as he smiles back at her.

Her heart races in her chest. She hopes this is the break for which they were waiting. Elliot reaches for the inside pocket of his jacket his left hand and awkwardly tries to retrieve an evidence bag. After a few failed attempts he looks to his partner.

She rolls her eyes and steps closer to him. Once she's a few inches from him she leans in, grasps the left side of his suit jacket and reaches in the pocket. As she withdraws her hand it grazes his chest slightly. The contact causes him to jump and his heart to beat a little faster. He holds his breath and looks at her. She smiles, hands him the bag then steps slowly away.

After he's secured the evidence he looks back at her and has to smirk when he notices her light blush. Her reaction is unusual. But so was his. He smiles at both. A few embarrassed moments later Olivia takes a deep breath and bounces on her toes.

"Want to get this stuff to the lab?" He asks anxiously.

"Yeah. Alright, let's get them back to the lab," she agrees with an ounce of hope growing in her chest.

Central Park

New York, New York

Thursday, August 13, 2009 – 8:33 p.m.

He cries.

He cries in pain. He cries for his mother.

It's been two hours, three minutes and eleven seconds since Robbie should have had his dinner. Now, instead of finishing up his bath or watching The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack on the Cartoon Network Robbie Baker sits huddled in the corner trembling. His clothing torn and soaked in blood. His body covered with scrapes and bruises.

The once humid summer air has started to cool. It crisply lashes at the boy's fragile skin.

Across the room, the stranger sits on the scratchy wool blanket. He casually picks the dried blood from under his fingernail. His mouth distorts his emotionless face into a revolting smile. Slowly his head tilts up. As he looks at the small boy an evil laugh escapes through his twisted lips.

"Didn't you like your surprise, Robbie?" He asks lowly.

The cruel inflection in oily his voice causes goosebumps to raise on Robbie's arms. An involuntary shiver quakes his entire boy. He huddles further into the corner, trying to get as far away from the stranger as he can.

"I want my mommy," Robbie mumbles quietly into his knees.

The stranger stands up from the blanket and glowers at the child. After picking up his t-shirt from the floor, he slips it over his head to hide his ghostly white skin. As he walks to the other side of the room he passes a small lantern. Its interrupted light sends twisting shadows to dance across the wall. Once the figure reaches the far wall, he bends down to a small cabinet and looks at the rainbow of choices inside. Taking a few seconds to contemplate them, he finally picks out a small container.

Robbie never takes his eyes off the figure. As he shifts slightly to keep the stranger in his sight he winces in pain. The cuts and bruises on his back rub against the rough wooden planks of the wall. His muscles contract and throb in pain. Hesitantly he brings his hand up to his face. He feels his swollen eye, still tender from being punched repeatedly.

"If you hadn't fought, I wouldn't have had to hit you," says the looming voice from across the room.

The boy stills and looks away. A warm trickle of blood drips from the cut in his skull. It slowly seeps down his forehead finally stopping as it catches in his eyelash. A sudden noise alerts him to the stranger's approaching form and Robbie turns toward it. The Chuck Taylor shoed foot slides through wood shavings, making a foreboding yet soft scraping noise. Robbie flinches.

"Here."

The small container is thrust toward the young boy as he tries to retreat farther into the corner.

"Come on, take it," the stranger says impatiently. "It will make you feel better. I promise."

Robbie has no reason to trust this person but he takes it anyway. After three punctuating glances at the stranger's unpleasant face, Robbie lifts the small plastic barrel to his lips and takes several sips of the purple liquid. Some of the syrupy grape flavored water sticks to his lips as it unpleasantly slides down his dry throat.

The tears form in his small eyes once again. They wash away the viscous red liquid from the webbing of his eyelashes. A rough hand stops the diluted red tear as it runs down the boy's face. After the stain is wiped away, Robbie turns his frightened eyes to the overpowering individual.

"Don't worry, Robbie. It will all be over soon."

The young boy tilts his head at the figure as everything begins to be cloaked in unfocused light. Robbie squints his eyes trying to focus. The room starts to spin. When the dizziness creeps further into his vision, Robbie leans over to vomit. The larger hand brings the plastic container back up to the boy's lips and tips it back. Once again Robbie swallows the bitterly sweet liquid. As the room continues to spin out of control, Robbie fights the nausea with all his might.

Sounds and sights blur.

The battle for consciousness is futile. Eyelids weigh heavily with drugged sleep. The room tilts and slides sideways. A muffled crack resounds as skull meets floor.

Everything fades to black.

*~~~~~*