Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN! I got tired waiting around for an idea... so TA DA! The murderer is revealed!
"Boss?"
"Yes?"
"Uhm, the money was where it was supposed to be. Fifty thousand gil."
"Good. Now hand it over."
"But boss… Carlo and I were wondering if we could… ah…"
"Have a percentage of the gil? Is that what you want?"
"…uh… when you say it like that, boss, I mean—
"The next time you ask that question," the rather professional woman said, her smile laced with poison. "I take my gun," She pulled it out of its holster at her belt. "And fire it three times. The first one goes in your foot. You won't be able to walk." She got up from the desk, and the large, hulking man began to step backwards.
"Uh… boss?"
"And when you've fallen and hit the floor, I take my gun and destroy your fucking testosterone in the worst way possible. I guess you know what that means, don't you Danny?
The muscled man hit the wall. She took the gun and dragged the barrel across his cheek. "Then, when you're writhing in pain, squirting blood all over the place, I take my third shot— into your heart. Then I'd call room service to clean up the mess."
Sweat began popping in droplets on Danny's forehead.
"So what's it gonna be, Danny?" She stepped back, adjusting her jacket. "You wanna listen to Carlo, or listen to me?"
He paused rather dumbly for a moment.
"What's it gonna be you stupid bastard?" She screamed and hit him on the back of his head with the gun, knocking him to the floor.
Danny lay there, holding his head, trying to alleviate the searing pain in his skull. She knelt down next to him and took his hand. He saw the gun at her belt. He was safe… for now.
With her cold hands she took his left hand, and held his wrist so his palms faced the ceiling. "Who's your boss?" She asked tersely, taking his index finger and yanking it all the way back, until the nail reached the backs of his palms. Danny screamed out in pain. "Who do you listen to?" She took his middle finger and gave it the same treatment. Cracks echoed throughout the room, mixed in with his screams and her chuckles. "I'm going to ask you the same question and I'm going to break all your fingers, and I might move to your toes. Now once again, who's your boss? Who do you respond to?"
He gasped as she bent his ring finger, and through his gritted teeth he managed to say, "You. You're my boss. I listen to you, Elena."
"Good." She replied. "Now go pass the message onto Carlo. I'm going to have a nice lunch with Tseng."
Tseng, his mind preoccupied with the fact that seven murders had been performed right under Reno's and Julia's noses had a lunch date with Elena. The two sat at a small white circular table outdoors. Both wore sunglasses. Elena looked content. Tseng looked distant, as always.
"Tseng, you haven't even touched your food. Something on your mind?" Elena asked sweetly as possible, trying to keep up her 'annoying little rookie act' for as long as possible. Heck she didn't even like Tseng.
Tseng took a sip of his water. "I can't believe Reno's a suspect. Why would he want to kill all those people? Was it Rude? Julia?"
Elena sighed dramatically. "Tseng, we've been going out for five weeks. Every single time we go have a nice meal, you bring up some odd topic."
"I'm sorry Elena, but it's not in my jurisdiction to—
Elena could recite the whole thing. 'It's not under my jurisdiction to get Reno and Julia out from central booking', without even having to listen. Honestly, the man was as predictable and obvious as Joan Rivers denying the fact she had plastic surgery done.
So she sighed. "I know how much this means to you, so you could just go to the crime lab and investigate. I'm going to file some paperwork back at the office." She said, rather dramatically. She even added a cute little pout.
'Gives me more time to spend that gil more wisely…'
Tseng departed with a chaste kiss, and Elena took out her cell phone and dialed a number. "I'd like to speak with Deborah Gallagher, please. Yes. Elena. E-L-E-N-A. Yes. No. Turks. Yes, I know. E-L-E-N-A. Okay. I'll hold."