"I don't get why you're not telling them all to do the papers." Rusty raises an eyebrow, watching his foster mother look over each interview report.

"I did not delegate this particular task because I wasn't able to stay at the scene. It's common courtesy." Sharon mumbles mostly, looking over another report, sorting them into three piles.

The young man in front of her, "Can't I help or something?"

"No." She answers simply, "You can be reading if you are that bored."

"I can go talk to suspects for you too, but I'm not doing that either right now." He smirks, pointing to a pile, "What's this one?"

Raydor lets out a heavy sigh, looking up from the report for a moment, "Suspicious, odd, and irreverent." She points to each, "Any other questions?" He seems full of them today, while this didn't usually annoying Sharon, while she was busy, it tended to get under her skin.

"Odd?"

"Means they aren't irrelevant, they're just weird. Like someone is withholding information."

Rusty nods slowly, "It's your largest stack."

"Yes, it is." Sharon nods, reaching over and taking a sip of her warm black tea complete with soy milk and vanilla flavoring.

"Are most things weird to you?"

"No. They may be attempting to protect someone or maybe they said something that wouldn't necessarily make them a suspect, but it does make me question their knowledge of what occurred."

Rusty nods slowly, "Flynn find anything from the horse I was talking about?"

Sharon smiles a little, "He did. A very nice sample. There were some other things as well. You should talk to him."

"Things about the case? You want me to-"

"Not pertaining to the case."

He smirks, "I will go and look into that then." He walks to the door, opening it.

Sharon releases her breath, glancing down to the stacks of papers before her. One in particular was catching her eye, several words stand out at her. She quickly rises from her desk, jogging over to the door, she pulls it open. "Lieutenant Tao, could you pull up some information on Margeaux Coventry?"

"Absolutely, Captain." Tao nods, "Was there something in particular you wanted to know about her?" He turns to his computer, his fingers gliding across the keyboard.

"Tell me if you can find anything connecting her name with the sale or trade of horses. She's listed on her form as a concession stand girl, but..." She tilts her head to the side, licking her lips as she offers him the paper, "The description she offers about the horses and their portion of the show seems to me that she's worked closely with them in the past."

"The largest horse I've ever seen." The man reads from the paper provided to him, "Sixteen hands easy. Diamond studded blinkers. The moron had no clue what he was doing putting an old girl up like that. Would have been better off using a colt."

"However, it also says to me that she has bet on them in the past as well. She used terms like 'Break Maiden' and 'Exacta'." Sharon smirks, "So I believe we have more than just a murder on our hands." She nods, glancing up at the murder board and jumping ever so slightly, placing a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the white board. "Could someone turn the photographs of Mr. Birch in costume over?"

Buzz smirks as he nods, doing as told. "Are you okay, Captain?" He knows the answer, he knows how much even the term bothers her, "I wasn't aware that clowns were your Kryptonite."

She nearly flinches, ignoring his statement, "Thank you, Buzz. Has anyone phoned Detective Sykes to check on her?"

"She's fine, Captain." Provenza nods, "It's been going around the building. I had a place deliver some soup and crackers to her.

"Okay." Sharon nods, standing there a moment, "Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza, would you mind paying a visit to Miss Coventry? I'd like you to remember everything she says, maybe record your interview or have Buzz wire you with-"

"Sure, Captain." Flynn rises from his seat, "I'll record it with my phone."

"If she uses any other racing terms, I want to hear them." She watches them.

"May I ask, how do you know so much about horse races?"

Sharon smiles softly, "My husband bet on them very often. He wasn't very good at it and oftentimes would blame the jockey or the track." She nods, "He once tried to tell me that we needed to buy this horse because his friend told him it was a good deal and that they could use it for mating because it was a broodmare sire. It was a gelding."

Andy raises an eyebrow, "A gelding, Captain?"

"A castrated horse." She begins to giggle softly when he combusts with laughter.

"Didn't know there was a name for that." He beams, folding his arms across his chest.

"Flynn." Provenza calls, having been waiting for him in order to leave.

"Excuse me, Captain." Andy nods, turning quickly to walk with his friend.

"Captain, if you don't mind me asking, what do you think we're looking at here?" Sanchez raises his hand slightly to garner her attention.

"Underground horse racing." Sharon nods to him.

"Is that so bad?"

"Captain, if I may," Tao offers, "Conditions may not be safe for the horses to race, they could be abused, overworked. Tracks may be on unfavorable terrain that could otherwise hurt the animals as well."

Sanchez nods slowly, "Okay, so, you think this ties in with our victim?"

"If I'm correct in thinking so, yes." Sharon nods, watching the man.

Flynn pulls up in front of the address provided for Margeaux Coventry. He leans toward the passenger side, glancing up at the tall building, "This looks like a shithole."

"A slum." Provenza sighs, shaking his head, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You've got a bad feeling about any place where you think you're going to have to climb a set of stairs." He gives the other man a look, climbing out from behind the wheel after opening his door, "Apartment 608." He begins to chuckle.

"Why...why are you laughing like that?"

"Because, I think she's on the sixth floor."

"That's enough of that." Provenza glares, "Shouldn't we call first? It's only common courtesy." He cranes his neck to look to the top of the dilapidated building.

Flynn rolls his eyes, walking toward the building, "Speaking of which, why does she have an apartment if she's a carnival worker? Don't they move around a lot?"

"Don't know. Let's find out together." He smirks.

Andy shakes his head, "Smartass." The taller man mumbles as they begin their trek up the stairs to the young woman's apartment. Though tedious and long, they finally reach the proper floor, "Alright." He says, out of breath, but not nearly as bad as his partner, "This is it, right over here." He points when he's able to see the numbers.

"Give me a minute." Provenza leans over, taking a few moments before standing up, "Alright."

"You sure?"

"Knock on the damn door."

Flynn smirks, lifting his hand up. He pauses before tapping his knuckles against the metal door, glancing to his partner when he hears a scream from within. "You hear that?" He whispers.

Provenza nods, "LAPD, open up." He bangs a fist against the door, when he hears another scream, he nods.

Picking his leg up and pushing his heel into the door, Andy kicks it in. "LAPD, no one move." He looks to the sight in front of them of a woman wearing leather, holding a chain whip in high heels. Another woman tied up and sitting on the sofa. Andy smirks slightly.

"Help me." The woman on the sofa yells, tears in her eyes. Bloody streaks across his silk blouse from where the

Provenza lifts his pistol to the leather clad woman, nodding to her, "Put down the whip. You got any other weapons on you?"

The woman raises her hands, doing as told, "Yeah, I've got a gun up my ass." She smirks.

He shakes his head, "Alright, which one of you is Margeaux Coventry?"

"Call my Mags. That's what everyone else calls me." The leather clad woman nods, watching the men, "Can I put my hands down now?"

Andy kneels in front of the woman tied up on the sofa, "Are you okay, ma'am?"

The woman shakes her head, "This crazy bitch spiked my drink, I think. I didn't come here on my own accord, I assure you."

"What's your name?" His voice gentle, as he cuts the ropes binding her wrists and feet together with a pocket knife.

"Nora...Nora Saunders." She looks to him, "I was supposed to pick my son up from school an hour ago...Can I just...can I just leave?"

Provenza hears the woman, glancing to her, "Don't you want to give a statement? Press charges of kidnapping, assault-"

"I just want to go, please." Nora glances between them.

Mags smirks, hands still up, "Hey, old man, I asked if I could put my hands down..."

"Shut up." Provenza glares to her, looking back to the assaulted woman on the sofa, "Ma'am, we can assure you that we can locate a family member or-"

"My husband...I...I don't have a car." It all begins to sink in for the woman.

"We can do that." Andy nods, "We just need your statement. Do you think we could take you to get your wounds checked and to get your statement?

Nora looks at him, listening to his voice, she nods slowly, "Fine."

Mags laughs a little, "None of the charges stick. Never do. Besides, I gotta be back to work in a few hours."

"You aren't going anywhere, you're under arrest." Provenza glares to her.

"Yeah, what charge?"

"Kidnapping and assault. I'm sure I'll think up more in the car. " He moves closer to her, handcuffing her hands behind her back.

She shakes her head, "She pays me." Mags walks with them as Flynn takes the reigns and walks her down the stairs, "It's a turn on for her. She's not the only one who pays me to do all this." The woman continues to walk, "Why is the LAPD looking for me anyway?"

"We wanted to ask you a few questions regarding Thomas Birch." Flynn answers honestly, "But now, we're able to take you into custody for other things."

"I didn't have anything to do with it. He was another one of the freaks that paid me for things."

"Yeah," He rolls his eyes, "How the hell you gonna prove that?"

"I take video of all my clients." Mags nods, "I can tell you where to find them if you'd like."

"You can tell me downtown."

"She's going to run at the first chance she gets. Always does. Pays me extra when police are involved."

Flynn nods, "We'll see." He helps her into the squad car, waiting for someone else to arrive before he takes off.