Raydor wraps the arm strap of her purse around the rest of the bag gently, pulling out the bottom drawer of her desk. She places the purse inside before lowering herself to her chair. She takes a deep breath, "Rusty, do you have any summer reading to do for school?"
"Sharon, I only finished school a couple of weeks ago. Can't I have a break first?" Rusty grumbles, plopping into the large green chair opposite her desk.
"If you let your mind rest, you'll quickly fall out of a schooling mindset. The quicker you read the novels, the sooner you'll complete your assignment. That means, while your friends are out having a good old time now, they'll be breaking their necks when it comes time for school and won't enjoy the summer at all."
"That's not even...I want to be with them, Sharon! I want to wait and bust my ass later! I want to have fun while they're having fun." He nods, almost pleading with her, "You know I'll read it. You know I'll finish it."
"Rusty, I said no. My children did it this way and you are no exception."
The young man stands, shaking his head, "I'm not your child."
"Would I have paid for Catholic schooling, extracurricular activities, books, lunches-"
"You make lunches." Rusty reminds her, his arms folded.
"Would I do all of those things if I didn't want you to be my own?" Sharon doesn't look up at him, reading over the case files on her laptop as details are slowly submitted from Sanchez via an iPad at the scene of the crime.
He sighs, running his hand through his hair, "Fine, fine, but you gotta admit I always do my school work."
"Yes, you do."
"And I make you food, and I do the laundry sometimes. I...I help with things, right?" Rusty bites his lip, wanting to not seem like a burden to the woman. He's gone above and beyond that. At least he hopes he has.
"Of course, Rusty. Now, please, read the novels and do your assignments before you go out with friends and things. You will thank me later." Raydor looks up to the young man, "You've aided me more day to day than my own children did when they were your age. I want you to get into the habit of doing work before pleasure." She offers him a closed mouth smile, raising her eyebrows to emphasize her statements.
"You..." He swallows, looking down to the floor, "You really meant that?"
"Absolutely." Sharon folds her hands in front of her, watching him, "Is everything okay, Rusty?"
Rusty nods quickly, probably a little too quickly, "You don't want me to not have any friends though, right?"
"You know I love for you to make connections with other people. Whether that be friends or significant others is entirely up to you."
"It's just that," He sits in a chair directly in front of her desk which usually were used by other members of the division or victim's families, anyone but the boy, "It's just that I lived with this lady once that made me clean her house and stuff...I didn't cook for her. I didn't want to. I cook when I'm happy, not when I'm forced to." Rusty leans forward a little, "And she would yell at me and stuff. She'd pick me up from school and drop me off...wouldn't even let me leave the house or join any clubs." He swallows, "I don't think you're like that. I mean, I've lived with you for like...a year, and I think whatever we have is good."
"I agree completely." Sharon continues to watch him, "Rusty, I'd never force you to do anything that wasn't for your benefit or that you didn't particularly want to do. You're a teenage boy. You're supposed to join clubs and have friends. You're supposed to get into trouble. However, just know that I will always be right there when you need me. No matter what the situation is, no matter how bad you think it is, you should never be afraid to talk to me or call me when you need to."
The young man swallows, nodding almost absently. "I um...I have an app on my phone. I can read the books that way while I'm here. Is that okay?"
"Absolutely, but you'll read the paperback when we're at home, and I will test you on what you've read during the day, everyday." Sharon smirks.
Rusty smirks a little, "Think I'd lie to you?"
"No, but I do know that teenagers think they're able to pull the wool over their parents' eyes. Buster, if I catch you doing so one time, it's paperbacks only."
He grins more, "Yes, ma'am."
"Good, now go sit in your chair and read. Three chapters a day. You should finish the book in a week, if not sooner." Sharon motions to his usual chair, "Have a seat over there."
"Okay, one more thing though." Rusty offers, "When I was backstage looking at the elephants and stuff, I noticed one of the horses had blood on it's hoof. Looked like she stepped in it. I don't know if that means anything of if it would be useful to you." He shrugs.
"Actually, Rusty, it just might." Raydor grins, picking up her mobile phone to call Provenza who was still at the crime scene.
"Captain, how may I be of service?" Louie Provenza oversees the specimen collection of the crime scene, other officers interviewing different people around the tent.
"Lieutenant, thank you for answering my call. Have any of the horse riders been interviewed yet?"
Slowly looking about the tent, he picks the phone up closer to his mouth, "Some. Were you looking for something in particular?"
"Rusty said, while walking the grounds and surveying the sights, he noticed one of the horses had what appeared to be blood on a hoof. It may be worth looking into." She glances over to the young man, raising an eyebrow, "Were there any horse tracks left at the scene?"
Provenza listens to her a moment, then smirks, "Captain, I can pretty much guarantee you that a horse did not kill our clown."
Raydor rolls her eyes, "Funny, Lieutenant, however horses are quite choosy about whom they allow to handle them. Probably only a select few the horse trusts." She smirks, "May help you narrow it down."
"You know so much about this...why?"
"I was quite the equestrian in my former days."
He raises an eyebrow, "Can you still ride?"
"Goodbye, Lieutenant." Raydor touches the screen of her phone, disconnecting the call.
Provenza chuckles to himself, slipping his phone back into his pocket, "Flynn, go and check the horses. Apparently Rusty noticed blood on a foot or something."
"A hoof." Flynn corrects his friend.
"What the hell does it matter?"
"Horses have hooves. You bet on them enough. You should know that." He nods.
Provenza waves his hand, "Just go check what I told you to."
Flynn chuckles, walking behind the curtain, noticing the horses lined up backstage.
"How much longer do I have to keep them out?" A young woman asks him. Beautiful. She looks as if she's a teenager, but probably older. Jet black hair turned into dreads, her skin almost a ghostly white, her eyes a striking shade of turquoise.
He glances over, "And you are?"
"Sally...Sally McAllister." She answers quietly, "They don't like being out this long. I want to take them to their pen for some water."
"I just need to look at their hooves, then you can take them right back."
"Why?" Sally raises an eyebrow, "Something I can help you with, Officer?"
"Uh..." Flynn looks over to the young girl with her Southern accent. She reminded him of his own daughter in some ways, "Yeah, okay. I just need to swab the blood, see if it matches our victim. That's all. Help me find the horse and-"
"There was someone back here already. He was cute. Younger than you." She smirks, "Where'd he go?"
"He isn't a part of my squad." The man stands straighter, laughing a little, "Thinks he is sometimes. I guess you can say he's the division's kid. Why you ask?"
Sally shrugs, "He coming back?" She raises an eyebrow.
"Not anytime soon, I'm afraid."
"That's too bad." She smirks, "Win some, you lose some. Right?"
"So, what do you do around here?" Flynn watches the young woman, absently petting a horse next to him.
"I tend to them...the horses. Mostly the older ones. They're more accepting of me than the younger. You'd think it would be the other way around, but it's not." Sally shrugs, tilting her head to the side, "My in trouble or something?"
"No, nothing like that. We just need to hear from everyone in case someone saw something." He nods.
"Thought no one said they did."
"Well, it's a little more complicated than that. Sometimes, people don't remember or they'll block things because for some people, seeing a dead body can be a traumatic experience."
She laughs a little, "Why would it be traumatic?" When she notices the man's facial expression change, "That probably sounds bad...I found my grandma once...and my uncle. He was a drug overdose. Wasn't pretty."
Flynn stands up straighter, nodding slowly. "Sorry to hear that."
"It was awhile ago." She shrugs.
"Alright, you going to help me find this blood?" He smirks, watching as the young woman kneels down to help him look.
"Here." Sally motions to one, "She's holding her foot up. Must know it's there too." She grins to the older horse, "Good girl."
Flynn does as he said he would, "You may hear from our offices. Someone take your information?" When the young woman nods, he returns to the rest of the division, "Okay, we should be good here."
"Major Crimes division, back to the office. Other officers, you all finish here and head back as well. I'd like all reports on Captain Raydor's desk, when completed." Provenza calls out, exiting the tent with a smirk spreading across his face.