"So let me get this straight . . ."
An early morning breeze snuck in through the window of the guest bedroom that presently doubled as an office. The wafting air current tickled the back of Olivia's neck and sent a visible shiver up her spine as she perched on the edge of the padded desk chair. Her bare feet were hooked on the wheeled legs, her toes playing nervously along the plastic. On the laptop screen in front of her, Chief of Detectives Hadley Scott's grim face stared back.
"So what I hear you telling me is that we've been paying you to sit out in the boonies for the last three days, and you have absolutely nothing to show for it." Scott's bass voice reverberated through the laptop's tiny speakers and Olivia shifted uncomfortably on her chair, wincing as the unprotected skin of her legs stuck firm to the plastic.
"I am making progress sir. I've met most of the residents, and now I'm working on developing enough rapport to dig a little deeper. It's not easy. They are very secretive around here. Big into "minding their own business."" Olivia's air quotes emphasized her point. "We don't have a lot of choice. They won't talk to the authorities, and they're not going to open up to me if I'm an outsider. We've got to play their game."
The Chief grunted and shifted in his seat, the movement momentarily blurring the webcam image and distorting his handsome features and well-coiffed salt and pepper hair. His irritation, however, remained as clear as day.
"You're lucky this is a high profile case Benson." Scott sharply shuffled the pile of papers on the desk before him. "We need to be able to show that we're doing everything in our power to nail this perp, or I'd be hauling your ass back here. The only reason you're still playing house out there is because it looks good to the vic's father that we've got someone high ranking out in the field."
Olivia's eyes flickered absently out the window, the vivacious early morning sun spurring a pang of longing to escape the claustrophobic office. Remembering suddenly that the Chief of D's could see her, she jerked her eyes back to the screen and cleared her throat.
Damn technology. On the phone I could have rolled my eyes.
"I am working on it sir. Everything is going according to plan. I-"
"I expect a detailed report in two days. And you best have made some progress." With a flick of his hand, the Chief's face disappeared from the monitor as if drawn into a black hole.
Groaning, Olivia dropped her elbows onto the desk and lowered her face into her hands. Her palms gouged her eyes roughly as an iron rod of tension clamped onto her spine.
"You want some coffee?"
The sound of Elliot's deep voice made Olivia's head snap up. It took her eyes a moment to focus on him, leaning in the previously vacant doorway, a cup of coffee in each hand. He was shirtless and his sweatpants rode low on his hips, exposing the lines of his well-defined pelvis. Instinctively, her eyes travelled down, following the lines until they disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. The sight made her mouth water and it took a concerted effort to force her eyes back up.
Yes, I do want some. But not coffee.
"Coffee'd be great, thanks."
Elliot crossed the room and Olivia accepted the steaming ceramic mug he passed over with near glee. Although it was also warm outside, her insides embraced the comforting liquid heat as she took an introductory sip.
Pulling up a wooden chair from the corner of the room, Elliot plopped down on the opposite side of the desk. Leaning back with his hands locked behind his head, he propped his feet up on the corner of the desk.
Just like old times . . .
"New Chief's a real ball buster, huh?"
Rolling her tense shoulders, Olivia shrugged. "He's the same as all the ones before him. Demanding, politically ambitious, chauvinistic, conceited."
Elliot's light eyes followed the wisps of steam curling up from her mug. "So that's your new life. Kissing up to the fat cats."
The derision in his voice made Olivia tense defensively. Leaning forward, she folded her arms across her chest and looked him straight in the eye. "Does it bother you that I'm a Captain now El?"
Elliot snorted. Outside, a honeybee buzzed lazily against the window screen. "No, course not."
Olivia's eyes were hard and unyielding. "Could have fooled me with the number of smart remarks I've heard from you over the last few days."
Elliot's face softened slightly and he looked up from her cup to meet her eyes. "You were such a damn good detective Liv. Lots of years of high quality solves still left in you. It's a disservice sticking you behind a desk."
"At least I didn't bail entirely." The comment slipped out sharper than she intended and a menacing thundercloud formed on Elliot's face. The knot of guilt that immediately tightened in her stomach forced an apology from her mouth. "I'm sorry. That was out of line. You did your time. You were the smart one. You got out."
I just missed you like crazy.
The room was deathly quiet for a moment as the storm cloud dissipated, the only sound that of claw on wood as a squirrel scurried up a tree. In a desperate attempt for a distraction, Olivia's eyes darted back to the blank screen and reality sunk in. With a sigh, she closed the lid on the laptop with a sharp click. "I need a break in this case, badly."
Dropping his feet, Elliot placed his forearms on the desk, fingertips absently playing with a sheet of loose-leaf paper. "It'll come. You've just got to be patient."
Yeah, easy for you to say. It's not your ass on the line anymore.
Biting her tongue with a sigh, Olivia swiveled around in her chair. From the window, she could see the diamond-studded lake through the trees. The laughter of children, carried up by the breeze, was as clear as if Olivia were sitting along the shoreline herself.
She wished . . .
The tense set of her shoulders and the twitch of the tiny muscle in her jaw was a dead giveaway. It was a look Elliot had seen many times over the years. She was getting frustrated. How many times in the past had he wiped that look off her face with a joke or a stupid remark? Yet now, he couldn't think of a single thing to say that would make it better.
When had their connection broken?
"Well, we won't accomplish anything sitting here stewing." Standing abruptly, Elliot slurped the final dregs of his coffee. "Come on. We've still got a few more neighbors to meet."
It was dazzling out on the water.
The sun was conveniently ignoring the fact that it was August, not July, and it burned with early summer enthusiasm as the motorboat skipped across the water, motor humming. The temperature of the lake below was considerably cooler than the air, and the breeze that had settled over the water was refreshing but far from cold. It was near perfection to Elliot's mind as he guided the small boat over the rising whitecaps.
Perched on the bough, her back to him, Olivia's streaked hair whipped in the wind. Her eyes were shaded by a pair of dark sunglasses as she looked out over the water, lost in thought. Her white muslin bathing suit cover-up fluttered in tandem with her hair, her long tan legs poking out from beneath the hem, ending in a pair of flip-flops that framed painted toenails.
Speaking of perfection . . .
Don't go there Stabler.
One of the most solitary residents of Mountainside, Murph Avery lived on the point of the curving shoreline. His ramshackle cabin was guarded by a wedge of forest so thick that it was virtually impossible to reach on foot. It was most easily accessible by boat, the thin, rickety dock extending from the shore its sole entry point. Elliot could easily count the number of times he had seen Murph Avery on both hands, so when he had spotted him outside on the dock, kneeling beside a bucket of water, he knew the time was now.
They had packed a picnic lunch with the intention of stopping on the floating pontoon anchored in the middle of the lake on the way back. When the powerboat hit a rough patch in the water, the cooler toppled over, spilling its guts on the floor. Unsteadily, gripping the railing of the boat, Olivia got to her feet to pick it up and return it to its rightful place at the bough. Elliot's eyes followed the movement and, when she bent over to retrieve the errant cooler, her bathing suit cover up rode high enough to expose her bathing suit clad backside. His mouth went dry at the sight of the smooth skin and his eyes traced her curves as a pleasant tightening hijacked his groin.
He almost didn't see it in time.
The flamboyant buoy was less than three seconds away when it caught Elliot's attention. It was a flash of color that jerked his eyes away from Olivia and spurred an instinctual reaction. Cranking the wheel to the right, he narrowly avoided the jagged rock beneath the oversize bobber. The sharp movement threw Olivia off balance and she crashed onto the padded seat that ran around the interior of the boat.
"El! What the hell!"
Elliot's hands shook slightly on the wheel, his stomach having fallen to his knees from the close call. "Sorry. Distracted."
Murph didn't even raise his head as the idling powerboat pulled alongside the sagging dock. His greasy, scraggly hair clung to the back of his neck where a pool of sweat had formed. His round, thick, Harry Potteresque glasses slipped down his nose from the exertion as he leaned over a bucket of gray water, scrubbing vigorously on an old, battered washboard. His body was scrawny but deceptively strong biceps flexed in time with the motion.
Elliot looped the rope over the support post and hauled himself up onto the knotted dock, his knees still trembling lightly.
"Hi Murph. How are you?"
The thin man didn't even glance up from his scrubbing. "Fine."
Elliot turned and took Olivia's hand, helping her onto the dock. "Haven't seen you around for a while. Thought I would drop by and say hi when I saw you were out."
"Hi." Murph still didn't look up, his hair a slick curtain around his face. His hands were bright red from scrubbing in the hot water, a definite contrast against his pale skin.
Elliot took another step forward. "I wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend. This is Olivia."
Murph stopped scrubbing but didn't turn, gazing instead into the bucket of soapy water as if Olivia would suddenly appear there. When he finally did raise his head, his eyes were huge and magnified behind the thick lenses of his glasses.
"Hello." He gave Olivia a very blatant once over before twisting his head back in Elliot's direction. The breeze made the curtain of hair sway just slightly. "Your girlfriend has really nice legs."
Elliot barely managed to suppress a grin as he glanced at Olivia out of the corner of his eye. Murph's eccentricities were famous around Mountainside, from his social awkwardness to his hermit lifestyle to his obsession with all things alien. "Thanks. What have you been up to lately?"
Murph's stringy hair had resumed bobbing in time with his motions. "Nothing. Watching the skies."
"Yeah, you've always got that telescope out, don't you? Keeping an eye on the neighborhood. You hear about that girl they found murdered in the woods?"
"Yeah." Murph scrubbed harder, water sloshing out of the bucket and staining the wooden dock.
"You see anything at all?" Elliot took another step closer, Olivia hovering by his elbow.
Murph paused in his scrubbing and, after a moment, lifted his eyes from the bucket to meet Elliot's. "Why you want to know?"
Elliot shrugged nonchalantly. "Used to be a cop. Like you, I'm curious in nature."
Murph considered that for a minute, his eyes darting back and forth almost hypnotically. The answer must have satisfied him because he tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I might've seen something."
"What did you see?" The words flew out of Olivia's mouth before she could stop them and she reflexively took a step forward. Murph reacted dramatically, jumping to his feet so fast that he actually tripped himself and stumbled backward, nearly overturning the bucket. The entire dock shook as he fell and Elliot extended his arm to stop Olivia from moving any closer.
Murph's lips tightened into a thin line as he lay sprawled on the dock, his eyes hard. "Why do you want to know? You a cop too?"
"No," Elliot cut in quickly, stepping in front of Olivia and blocking her from sight. "She's just nosy. Typical woman." He managed to hide the wince when Olivia pinched his back in retaliation.
Murph seemed to like that answer even better and he bared his black-lined teeth in a grin. "That girl. I seen her around before."
"When?"
Shrug. "Coupla weeks ago maybe."
"Where?"
Shrug. "Around."
Elliot shifted his weight impatiently. "She with anyone?"
The shirt Murph had been washing bobbed in the bucket's sudsy water like a blue island. "She wasn't alone."
Elliot's patience waned like a fraying string, a hardness taking its place. "You recognize the person?"
Murph was quiet for a moment before slowly getting to his feet and wiping his splinter-coated hands on his stained jeans. "Yeah, I did."
"You tell the cops any of this?"
Murph chuckled, a dry, brittle sound. "I don't tell the cops anything man. They're all in on the conspiracy to keep the truth from us."
"So who was it you saw with this girl? Anyone I know?"
By way of answer, Murph grabbed the bucket and dumped it into the lake. The filthy suds dissipated quickly and Elliot wondered absently what damage that chemical would do to the ecosystem.
Focus Stabler.
Sensing that he was fast losing his window of opportunity, Elliot took a step closer and tried to reassert himself. "Come on man, I can keep a secret. I'm not in on the conspiracy anymore. I left the force because I couldn't stomach it."
Murph regarded him carefully, the empty blue bucket that dangled from the end of his fingertips rocking slightly in the breeze. He opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it, then opened it again. He vaguely resembled a rock bass, skimming the surface of the water for food.
Finally, he found his voice. "She was with the one who speaks to the aliens. Rebecca."
The answer caught Elliot off guard, and he stood there unmoving as Murph turned and headed toward the wooden staircase that led to his remote hideaway. The thin man paused for a moment at the bottom step, his eyes huge, shiny orbs in his flat face.
"I saw the hieroglyphs in the dirt. They're coming. Mark my words they're coming."