Trial by Fire
Chapter 3
After Goren and I had spent a couple of hours making up for not having our usual Sunday in bed, neither of us remembered to turn on the alarm. Luckily my bladder woke me at 5. When I crawled back into bed, Goren spooned up to me. After draping his arm over my waist, he pulled me back against him possessively, burrowed his nose into my hair and sighed. I wasn't even sure if he was completely awake, but his actions had created a tingling between my legs. I wiggled my ass back against him and was delighted to discover his erection.
"What do you want to do?" he murmured into my ear.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"We have extra time this morning. We almost always do what I want to do," he was caressing my hip.
"Last night I had my way with you," I reminded him.
"And then we did what I wanted," he pointed out. "I want to know what you want to do."
"Bobby, you are reluctant to do what I want," I covered his hand with mine.
"What am I reluctant to do?" he sounded surprised.
I reached out and turned on my bedside lamp. I needed to see his reaction to what I was about to say. Then I rolled over to face him.
"I've told you what I like before," I began.
"What don't I do?" he looked wounded.
"Bobby, I like to be fucked hard," I watched his eyelids flutter at my choice of words. I had always had the dirtier mouth in our partnership. "You don't want me to use that word?"
"I like to think that we make love," he was looking straight into my eyes.
"We do, Bobby, but we fuck a lot, too," I couldn't help smiling. "What do you call what we did up against the wall yesterday?"
"Lust," a smiled was now tugging at his lips.
"Ya, well, most people don't say making lust, they say fucking, but if it bothers you, I won't use it."
"No, it's fine," he shook his head. "I'm more worried about the rest of what you said – that I don't do what you like. It's because I'm afraid I'll hurt you."
"How would you hurt me?" I caressed his cheek.
"Well," he paused briefly. "I do, well, bottom out," his voice was quiet.
"C'mon, Bobby, think about it," I was letting my fingers play in his hair. "You had me bent almost in two last night. You were definitely bottoming out and was I not enjoying myself?"
"Ya, you were," he grinned.
"Can you please let me worry about what hurts me? What I want is for you to completely let go. You've only done that a couple of times. I always completely give myself to you. It's what you expect." I watched as realization swept over his face.
"Alex," he pulled me against him tightly. "You do give yourself to me, all of the time," his mouth closed over mine and he kissed me softly. "And you're right, I was worried that if I let go, I would hurt you or scare you."
"Scare me?" I was confused.
"I thought if I let you see how much I really need you, it would scare you."
"You thought it would scare me?" I shook my head. "Does it scare you when I lay myself bare for you, Bobby, or does it make you feel something else entirely?"
"It lets me know that you trust me completely," his eyes were filled with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Alex," he began to apologize.
"Stop, Bobby, I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to be honest with me. I want you to give yourself to me, the way I give myself to you. I want you to trust me," I cupped his face as I explained.
"I do trust you, Alex, more than I've ever trusted anyone," he pressed his lips to mine again. "But it's still not going to be easy for me to let go. Will you remind me when we're making love, because my instinct to protect you will kick in."
"Does it matter which words I use?" I pulled back to look at him with a grin.
"Use whatever words you want," his hand had drifted down to my ass. "Now let's start over. What do you want to do?"
"Well, now I want to make love," I chuckled. "C'mere," I grabbed at his arm as I rolled to my back. "But I may be feeling lusty later."
The rest of the morning followed our normal routine and I arrived in the squad room at 8:45. Goren looked up from his notes when I walked by his desk.
"We got a hit on the prints," he patted a file in front of him.
"She had a record?" I was surprised.
He shook his head. "Her parents enrolled her in one of those child find programs," he handed the file to me.
"Heather Kane," I said aloud as I scanned the file. "She was only 20," I shook my head. "Do we have an address?"
"Parents are coming in to ID the body at 9," he told me as he stood up.
"Ugh," my shoulders slumped. "What a great way to start the week."
"Problem?" Deakins appeared beside our desks,
"Victim's parents," Goren let him know. "Ready?" he turned to me.
"No, and it wouldn't matter how much time you gave me," I sighed. "Just let me stash my gun."
We didn't speak during our elevator ride down to the morgue. I hated speaking to the victim's family. It brought back too many bad memories.
We found Mr. and Mrs. Kane sitting in the hallway next to the viewing room. The starkness of the hall was matched by the starkness of their faces.
"Mr. and Mrs. Kane, I'm Detective Goren and this is my partner Detective Eames," Goren made the introductions.
They stood up to shake our hands; their expressions remaining grim.
"Okay?" he asked them.
They nodded, but Mrs. Kane kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Goren knocked on the window sharply and almost immediately the blind was raised. A morgue technician was waiting beside the gurney to pull back the sheet. Mr. Kane nodded to the tech who then pulled the sheet carefully away from Heather's face.
"Oh God," Mr. Kane sounded like someone had punched him in the stomach.
Mrs. Kane lifted her head briefly and then her hand flew to her mouth.
"Please sit," Goren helped her back to the chairs.
"When they called this morning, the police said it had been Heather in Morningside Park," Mr. Kane's eyes were wide. "Why would someone do that to her?"
"We have no idea at this point," Goren told him quietly, not sharing his mother's theory.
I nodded to the morgue tech and he covered Heather's face again and lowered the blind. I sat down beside Mrs. Kane.
"Is it all right if I ask you a couple of questions?"
She nodded her assent.
"Did Heather live at home?" I began.
"She had an apartment," Mrs. Kane shook her head. I heard the faint traces of an accent in her voice, but I couldn't quite place it.
"Did she have a roommate?" I continued.
"No, she lived in a dorm in her first year, but she said there were too many distractions, so we rented her a place of her own," Mrs. Kane recounted numbly.
"What about a boyfriend?" I went through the standard questions.
"No one special, as far as I know, but she did date," Mrs. Kane's voice shook a little.
"Brothers or sisters?"
Mrs. Kane shook her head; her expression still blank.
"Was she having problems with anyone?" I asked my final question. Goren remained standing, jotting down the answers to all of the questions I asked.
"The only thing she ever complained about was her course load. She was taking Environmental Science at Columbia," Mr. Kane answered. "But she loved it," he smiled sadly.
"That's all we need for now," I stood up. "But we will probably need to speak to you again in the next couple of days."
"Here's my card," Mr. Kane pulled out his wallet and handed me a business card. "Call me if we can help in any way."
"Do you have keys to Heather's apartment?" I asked as we ushered them toward the morgue office.
"Oh, yes," Mrs. Kane opened her purse. "We kept her spare set."
"Thanks," I forced a smile as I took them from her. "Could you also please write down her address for me?" I handed her my notebook, with a fresh page exposed.
"I know this is a very bad time for you," Goren began, "But unfortunately there is a lot of paperwork that has to be filled out," he pointed them toward the clerk.
"I understand," Mr. Kane nodded.
"Could you please let us know about the arrangements," I asked Mrs. Kane when she handed the notebook back to me.
"Of course," she replied automatically.
When we left, they were sitting like statues at the clerk's desk. I completely understood their numbness.
"She lived in Morningside Heights," I showed Goren the address once we were in the elevator.
"So he probably just walked her there," Goren opened his binder to write that down.
"You think our guy walked her there? He had to help her walk and carry a can of gas?" It didn't seem reasonable to me.
"No," he shook his head. "So he either drove or the gas was in something less obvious."
"Maybe they didn't start out at her place," I suggested as we got off at the 11th floor. "Maybe our Good Samaritan was giving her a ride home," I met his eyes as we walked to our desks.
"Someone she knew and trusted," Goren's eyes let me know we were thinking the same thing.
"Let's fill the captain in and then see what we can find out at her apartment," I looked to see Captain Deakins alone in his office.
The captain was on the phone making arrangements when we left his office fifteen minutes later. The CSU techs were going to meet us at Heather Kane's apartment.
Not long into our working relationship Goren had become the keeper of our working file. Any information I gathered, I passed to him. He always gave me complete access to his binder and I was happy not to have to carry anything around except my notebook.
"Patrick Kane owns a chemical company," Goren was looking at the business card I'd given him. "Kane Chemicals – that explains how they could afford to rent her an apartment." We were in my car heading toward Morningside Heights.
"He owned a chemical company and his daughter was taking Environmental Science?" I mused.
"Maybe they're an environmentally conscious chemical company," he suggested.
"Maybe that was her influence," I offered. "They looked pretty straight-laced to me. Still think she's a witch?"
"Until I find out otherwise," he nodded.
"I noticed that you didn't share that with Deakins," I looked at him askance.
"I know how he'll react, Eames. I need to be sure first," he slipped the business card back into his binder.
I smiled to myself at his use of my last name. I'd asked him to keep things separate and he was. I guess for him, it was all or nothing.
We arrived at the same time as the CSU team. It took two elevator trips to accommodate everyone. Before I opened the door, a tech dusted it for prints and inspected the lock. It hadn't been forced. The first thing I was greeted with when I finally opened the door was the faint aroma of incense. I also noticed right away that Heather's apartment was clean and well lit. The front hall closet held a couple of coats and some shoes, but was empty, otherwise. A sturdy looking bike was hanging on a hook in the hall.
Once in the living room, Goren and I put on our gloves and began to look around more closely. There was a plant stand in front of the living room window filled with herbs, but they all appeared to be of the legal variety.
"Bag this," I said to no one in particular, pointing to her lap top. "I'll want it when TARU is done with it."
Goren was already at her bookshelf. He was scanning the titles, but he hadn't pulled anything out yet.
"I'm going to check the bedroom," I let him know. The books and pictures in the living room would keep him busy for a while.
The bedroom was also sunny and clean. A sage colored duvet covered her pine bed. It was flanked by two nightstands also made of pine. Her dresser seemed to be from the same collection. One of the nightstand drawers was empty, but the other was definitely more interesting. Inside were a few condoms, some lip balm and a couple of books. One was a novel that she appeared to be about halfway through. The other was more of a self-help book that didn't look like it had been cracked. I labelled a bag and slipped the book inside for Goren. It confirmed his mother's instinct.
I went through all of her dresser drawers and looked under her bed, but found nothing. There were candles scattered around the room and a large sun-shaped mirror on the wall above the headboard. The only other decorations were some watercolors of flowers on the walls.
When I opened the door to her closet, I hit pay dirt. The top shelf was lined with books and there was an oak chest on the floor.
"Bobby, in here," I called him. I knew he'd want to see what I found.
When he walked in I was dragging the chest out into the open. It was heavier than it looked.
"Top shelf," I nodded toward it as I pulled the trunk out of the way. "Oh, and I found this in her nightstand," I picked the bag up off of the bed and handed it to him.
"Coming out of the Broom Closet?" he turned the bag over to read the back.
"I guess she hadn't told her parents," I remarked as I knelt down to open the chest.
"So who had she told?" he turned to look at me.
"We may have a vey short list of suspects," I nodded.
When I popped the lid of the chest I was almost knocked over by the smell of incense, but it dissipated quickly. Besides the incense and more candles, the chest contained a couple of knives, some sticks, a set of candlesticks, bowls, a jar of what looked like salt, pine cones, feathers, dried flowers, some plastic bags of dried herbs, acorns, polished semi-precious stones, a couple of cloths, a mortar and pestle, and an incense burner. There were so many things; I'd probably missed a few as I looked through it.
"What do you make of this?" I asked Goren.
He was pulling books off of the top shelf one at a time and looking at them. "I don't know, witchy stuff?" he grinned at me.
"I guess," I ignored his jab, but I couldn't help returning his smile.
"She has a lot of the books on my list," he set his first handful down on her bed.
I picked up one called 'A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner'. The inside cover was stamped 'Brigid's Chamber' with a Greenwich Village address.
"None are historical, though," he added distractedly.
"I know where you'll be at lunch," I smiled.
A female CSU tech joined us in the bedroom. "Need anything in here?" she asked brightly.
"Yes, could have someone photograph and catalog the contents of this chest, please?" I nodded towards it. "Oh and bag the sheets and send them for DNA analysis, too."
"Do you think she's had company?" Goren paused from collecting his books to look at me.
"She had condoms in her nightstand, so probably," I explained my thinking.
Goren nodded and turned back toward the closet, still holding several books in one hand. I was expecting him to reach for another book, but instead he cocked his head.
"What's this?" he stretched out his hand to give me the books he was holding. He was looking at the opposite end of the closet from where I'd found the trunk. "There's something here behind these clothes," he moved the clothes aside.
"It looks like a disassembled table," I offered. It seemed fairly obvious to me.
"Ya, but why is it in the closet?" he started to pull the pieces out. "It's not like the apartment's jammed with furniture," he noted.
"I'm guessing it has something to do with everything that's in the trunk. She had to put it somewhere," I pointed out.
"Oh and look," he pulled out an old fashioned looking broom. "Definitely witchy," he grinned again.
"It looks like she kept everything that obviously pointed to her being a witch well hidden," I nodded. "Do you think anyone would care that much?"
"Did you hear her mother?" Goren asked as he began to bag his books. "She's done some work to lose the accent, but it was distinctly Irish."
"Ya, but I couldn't place it," I thought back. "So you think they are strictly Catholic?"
"I wouldn't have assumed that immediately, but the fact that Heather kept this so secret makes me think so," he confirmed.
Once he'd bagged all of the books he wanted, we moved to the kitchen. We didn't learn much more. Heather appeared to be a vegetarian. She recycled, bought in bulk, drank herbal tea, and was as tidy in the kitchen as she was everywhere else. The only thing mildly interesting was more bags of dried herbs. She must not have thought they would've aroused any suspicions.
A search of her bathroom revealed nothing that seemed pertinent. She had essential oils that were also labelled Brigid's Chamber and there were no medications in her medicine cabinet, not even over-the-counter ones.
"What's this?" Goren reached past me as I inspected the cabinet to pull out a small flexible cup.
"A reusable feminine hygiene product," I explained and tried unsuccessfully not to laugh when the look of recognition crossed his face.
"So she was fully committed to her environmentalism?" his eyes were wide as he gingerly put the cup back.
"So it would seem," I was still chuckling.
"I found her address book," Goren let me know as we left the bathroom. "But no cell phone and she doesn't have a landline."
"If she doesn't have a landline, she must have a cell," I turned to look at him.
"Do environmentalists use cell phones?" he wondered aloud.
"She had a laptop. I would think that would be worse, environmentally speaking," I argued.
"So someone took it?" he handed me his brown bag of books to jot that down in his notes.
"Or maybe she dropped it in the Good Samaritan's car," I suggested.
"Could we be that lucky?" he looked doubtful.
I could only shrug in answer to his question. I had an ever growing list of things to track down; Heather's financials, class schedule, cell phone usage and location, her friends and possible boyfriend, and her professors. Yesterday we had nothing to investigate and now there was more than I could do in one day.
"Shall we canvas the neighbors?" I suggested as I handed the books back to him.
"There are a few people in photographs I'd like to talk to, as well. A young man and a girl that appear in more than one, but the pictures look like they're a few years old."
"Friends?" I wondered aloud.
"Doesn't appear to be anything more than that in the pictures," he nodded.
Our canvas of Heather's neighbors didn't turn up anything helpful. We were told that she was polite, quiet and carried her bike up five flights, rather than using the elevator. She had people over eventually and as her mother said, she didn't appear to have a regular boyfriend.
"So what do we know?" I asked Goren when we were in the elevator.
"She was a clean, studious, polite, vegetarian, environmentally conscious, closeted witch," he shrugged.
"We'll have to see what's on her laptop, because so far, I'm not seeing a motive," I shook my head.
"I wonder just how closeted she was?" Goren asked when we got to the sidewalk. "Maybe her friends knew."
"Ya, parents are always the last to know," I agreed.
"Just stop in front of 1 PP and I'll head straight to the bookstore and probably the library, if that's okay," he asked once we were back in the car.
"Sure," I nodded. "I'll call Columbia and get them to e-mail me her class schedule, do a search of her cell number and request her financials before I go for my run. That way I may have something when I get back," I told him my plan of attack. "Do you want me to get you something for lunch or are you going to grab something when you're out?"
"I'd appreciate it if you could grab something for me," he looked up from the book he was already reading.
"What do you want?"
"Doesn't matter," he was focussed on his book again.
Back at 1 PP, Goren handed me the bag of books when he walked around to the driver's side.
"Have fun," I smiled at him, knowing full well it went without saying.
It was 12:30 when I was finally finished my calls, 12:45 when I hit the road and 2 o'clock by the time I'd showered, bought lunch and was back at my desk. There was still no sign of Goren. I was pulling my chair out to sit down when Deakins rapped on the window of his office.
"Sir?" I poked my head in.
"Sit," he lifted his chin towards the chairs. "Where's your partner?"
"Doing research," I explained as I sat down.
"By himself?" he furrowed his brow.
"He's at the library. I'm looking into her cell records, class schedule and financials," I let him know.
"What is he researching," he looked around me as he spoke. "Here he is, with a stack of books," the captain waved him in. "What do we have?" he continued once Goren was seated beside me.
We looked at each other and he silently told me to do the talking.
"Heather Kane was a 20 year old student at Colombia, taking Environmental Science. I'm hoping to speak to her professors tomorrow. The people in her building say she was quiet and polite. Her parents say she didn't have a regular boyfriend and her neighbors confirm that, but I'd like to speak with her friends, too."
"Is that it?" he looked at both us, obviously unimpressed.
"Well, she also seems to have been a witch," I cringed inwardly, waiting for his reaction.
"A witch?" he looked at me almost dismissively until the look of understanding swept across his face. "And someone burned her at the stake? You expect me to go upstairs with this?"
"She was definitely a practising Witch or Wiccan," Goren nodded. "She had all of the accoutrements for an altar. That's what was in the trunk," he said to me.
"And that's what the table was," I realized.
"But we don't know how many people she'd told," Goren added.
"We don't think her parents knew," I raised my eyebrows at Deakins.
"Based on what?" He held his palms up questioningly. He was not a happy man.
"She had a book in her nightstand called 'Coming out of the Broom Closet', but it hadn't been cracked."
"So she wanted to tell them, but was afraid of how they'd react?" Deakins was rubbing his forehead. "What does that get us?"
"If not many people knew she was a witch, that limits the number of people who would've thought of burning her at the stake as a way to cover their crime," Goren explained our thinking.
"So you need to find who knew and why someone might want her dead would be helpful, too," Deakins pinched the bridge of his nose.
I wanted to point out that we'd only indentified the body that morning, but I knew he was feeling pressure from above, so I remained tight-lipped.
"I knew this was going to be a circus," he sighed. "Let me know as soon as you have anything concrete. I don't care what time it is."
After assuring Deakins that we would keep him informed, Goren and I went back to our desks.
"They're probably cold," I nodded toward the burgers I'd picked up.
"Wouldn't be the first time," he laughed.
"Did you find all of the books you wanted?" I asked as I sat down.
"I got a few," he told me as he unwrapped his food. "A lot are out of print and the library only had a few of those," he took a bite of his burger. "I've had colder," he told me with his mouth full.
"I'm surprised you don't end up wearing half of your food, you talk with your mouth full so much," I shook my head.
"Years of practice," he explained before taking another bite, after which he added, "Mom."
I ignored his comment and unwrapped my burger. He was right. It was warmer than I'd expected.
"Read this while you eat," he suggested with his mouth full yet again. I shouldn't have said anything, because now I suspected that he was going to do it just to annoy me.
"Wicca for Beginners," I read the title aloud.
"Highlight the good parts," he handed me a yellow highlighter.
It was a fairly easy read and I kept returning to it after I'd finished my food, in between more phone calls and e-mails. I received her bank statements and cell records and had appointments to talk to three of her professors in the morning.
"I'm going to let Deakins know what I've got," I told Goren at 4:30. Deakins had been upstairs and looked somewhat the worse for wear when he'd returned.
"Did you find something?" he looked up from his book.
"No," I shook my head. "Just got the information I requested and set up some interviews."
"Want me to come?" he put his book down.
"It won't take both of us," I smiled.
Deakins waved me in when I knocked on the door.
"I have her cell phone records," I told him. "I think I forgot to mention earlier that we couldn't find her cell."
"And?" he leaned forward to put his elbows on the desk.
"It goes straight to voicemail. She had a couple of messages, but nothing that jumps out; her parents and a couple of friends asking her to call them."
"Mmm," he grunted.
"There doesn't seem to be anything in her call history; calls from the same few of people. Not that many for a 20 year old, actually, but I'll follow up with the people who've called her, see if I can't get more details about her."
"When are you planning to do that?" he wanted to know.
"As soon as I get back to my desk," I explained. "Her financials didn't turn up anything. Her parents must foot all of her bills and her bank account always hovers around $10, 000," I watched was Deakins eyebrows rose. "Her parents put $500 a week into the account. The only withdrawals are small amounts of cash, groceries, occasionally clothes, stuff from the campus bookstore and fairly regular visits to a pagan supply store in Greenwich Village."
"Someone there might know how open she was about being a witch," Deakins suggested.
"My thinking exactly, sir," I nodded. "They're closed today and don't open until noon tomorrow. That's when I was planning to visit."
"Okay," he nodded.
"And in the morning I've set up interviews with three of her professors and I hope those cell numbers will be her friends that also attend Columbia. I want to arrange to meet up with them while we're there."
"Look, why don't you get a car out of the motor pool instead of you and Goren meeting here and then heading out again," he pulled a requisition out of his drawer. "It'll save time."
"Okay," I nodded. "So tomorrow morning after Columbia we'll head straight to Brigid's Chamber."
"Brigid's Chamber?"
"The pagan supply shop," I clarified.
"Right, but keep me posted. The Chief of D's is not happy about this witch angle," he heaved a sigh.
"We're pretty confident that the actual motive will have nothing to do with her being a witch," I reminded him.
"I know," he stood up and reached for his jacket. "But I'll feel better when I know what that motive is."
Just as I was opening the office door Goren laughed loudly at whatever he was reading.
"What's the joke?" Deakins stopped at his desk. "I could use a laugh."
When I sat down I could see that he'd been reading the book he'd given me and knew immediately what he'd found so funny.
Goren looked at me, then at Deakins and back at me again. He looked trapped.
"Well, this is a first," Deakins laughed. "Bobby Goren is speechless."
"Give it," I reached for the book. "Goren asked me to highlight the good parts." I handed the book to Deakins, opened to the offending page.
"Sex is sacred," Deakins laughed. "Maybe I should convert, too."
When I looked back at Goren, he was looking at me with his head tilted. He was on to something.
"Can I see that again?" he held out his hand to Deakins. "You said she had condoms in her nightstand?"
"Ya," I nodded.
"And her parents said she wasn't seeing anyone special," he raised his eyebrows.
"Right," I saw where he was going. "If she believed sex was sacred, she wouldn't sleep with just anyone."
Deakins was still standing next to our desks, taking in what we were saying.
"So her someone special is someone she didn't want her parents to know about," he looked at Deakins.
"Do you think it's because he shared her beliefs," Deakins wondered.
"I don't think so. She kept her beliefs from her parents. It wouldn't be that much harder to keep his secret, too," I wasn't convinced.
"Ya, outwardly she just seemed like a tree-hugger," Goren agreed with me.
"So who wouldn't her parents be happy about?" I thought out loud. "Someone older, someone married? Oh!" It suddenly occurred to me. "My parents definitely wouldn't have been happy if I was dating one of my professors."
"Now you might be getting closer to a motive," Deakins brightened visibly. "Maybe you'll meet him tomorrow."
"I couldn't get a hold of one of her professors," I let them both know. "He called in sick today. "Dr. -," I checked my e-mail. "Robinson."
"Here's to you Dr. Robinson," Deakins smirked. "Pin him down. Find out if your suspicions are correct."
End chapter 3