A/N: I realize there was some discrepancy about Emma's car. Evidently while writing chapter four I forgot that in chapter two I decided that they had found it. So now we will go forth with chapter five under the impression that they have, in fact, found Emma's vehicle. This is why I need an actual beta. (No offense, LE. Babe you know watching your facial expressions while you read my fic is my favorite part of the day.)
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Monday, 5:30 am
Andy stood at the front of the murder room, the squad and Sharon Raydor gathered before him, waiting. He had to start the briefing. He had to tell them all about Marcus Alexander, and he had to find a way to do it without hurting Sharon even more than he already had. The tapes of the old interviews had arrived with all the evidence from the previous crime scenes, including all the little blue notes. No matter how badly Andy wanted to pretend that it had all been a bad dream, the proof of it was scattered across the murder board and in a few cardboard boxes on the desks in front of him.
The Chief nodded to Andy, and he took a deep breath. Now or never.
"Alright, so Marcus Alexander. Captain Raydor and I first encountered this scumbag eleven years ago. We'd been partners for maybe three months." He didn't know why he said that. Maybe just to see the looks of shock on everyone's faces. No one had known that Andy and Sharon had worked together, not even the Chief. Provenza seemed particularly devastated by the news. He and Andy had made a spectacular game out of insulting the Captain, and this latest discovery (that Andy had not only sent the woman lingerie for her birthday but also that he had been partners with her) seemed to have cast the old man into an almost catatonic state. Andy shrugged and continued. This briefing was going to be hard enough without having to worry about what everyone thought of him.
"Alexander's girlfriend, a girl name Lauren Grant," he pointed to her picture on the board, "turned up dead in her house. Alexander called it in. The Captain and I went to investigate." Andy was very careful not to call her Sharon. "We could never prove that it wasn't suicide, but there was just something off about this guy from the start. We brought him in for an interview, and Captain Raydor was able to push his buttons. He had a mean streak, and he was prone to, uh, violent outbursts. We just couldn't pin it on him. When we released him, he left a blue note on the Captain's desk." Andy motioned to the first of nine small squares of blue paper.
We'll meet again, Sharon. Misery loves company.
"He disappeared for a while, and then this girl, Amanda Weaver, turned up." He pointed to the next picture. Lauren had been of slightly-less-than-average height, with dirty blonde hair and unremarkable features. Amanda was taller, with dark auburn hair and clear green eyes, and the kind of face that made people do a double-take. "We had no evidence tying her to Alexander except for the note he left in her hand." Andy pointed to the next piece of blue paper.
In the end we all die alone, Sharon. And most of us live that way.
"After that, Alexander killed one girl a week."
Megan Cole.
Beauty is a lie, Sharon. It is often a mask for brokenness.
Allie Baker.
No one loves you, Sharon. No one loves anyone.
Amber Thomas.
Do you ever wonder why he left you, Sharon? I think it's because he knew you were defective.
Rosie Townsend.
So much sadness in the world, Sharon. You deserve all of it.
Lynn Harper.
Do you know why I kill them, Sharon? Because you look so beautiful when you cry.
Kristen Lyles.
The noose is tightening, Sharon. Perhaps your suffering will end sooner than you thought.
Casey Lowman.
The darkness is coming for you, Sharon. No one is safe.
"The last woman, Casey Lowman, she had a seven year old daughter." Andy did not mention that Emma had been the exact same age. Didn't want to bring that up here, in front of everyone.
"When Alexander killed Casey, he took the little girl. Her name was Maggie. We never got a chance to find out why, or what he did with her."
"Why not? Where did Alexander go?" the Chief asked. It was the first word any one had spoken since Andy had begun his litany of Marcus Alexander's crimes.
Andy balked at the question. He didn't want to tell her this part of the story. He knew it was included in the notes from the case, but he still couldn't quite bring himself to say the words aloud.
"Because I let him go, Chief," Sharon said from her perch in the back of the room. Everyone turned to face her as she continued, "Alexander broke into my house, and I didn't react the way I should have. He shot me and escaped."
No one had anything to say to that. Not that there was anything to say, really.
Andy searched desperately for something to say, some way to break the silence that had fallen.
"We never stopped looking for him, but he left no trace. There was no physical evidence at the crime scenes, and we tried everything, but he never turned up. Now," he cleared his throat, pulled a toothpick out of his pocket, stuck it between his teeth, "here's what we know about Emma."
Sharon turned away and walked back to the Chief's office, ostensibly to check in on her sons. No one questioned her. She didn't want to hear what Andy had to say.
"The last time Captain Raydor saw her was Friday evening when she drove the boys to the Sharpe's house. I've spoken with them, and they say that Emma told them there was a change of plans. She dropped the boys off and she left. She told the boys she was going to a friend's house, Ashley Chapman. We have Ashley and her parents in an interview room right now. When Sharon called her, Ashley said that Emma never intended to come to her house, so we need to figure out where she was going. Now, about her car. We found it outside Elysian Fields. There were no prints in the vehicle at all, not even Emma's. We did find her cell phone, but it had been turned off." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's all we know."
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Sharon sat on the edge of the Chief's desk, watching her sons. They had fallen asleep in the chairs, too tired to remain upright any longer. They seemed so peaceful in sleep. Able to escape, for however brief a time, the hideousness of their situation. Sharon had no such respite.
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