Next morning, Lake was sitting at his desk, the precinct bustling with activity as per usual. Sara Greene's tape recorder lay on his desk. He stared at it, as the reporter's business card made regular trips between Lake's calloused hands; he obviously hadn't called back the woman. Why? Something about the previous night was still bugging him. Why had she bolted when he asked about Olivia? Despite the fact that Sara was neither a perp or a vic, Lake still couldn't help but analyzing the situation as such. There was really only one thing he could do.
Lifting his head, he stowed the card in his pocket as he gazed across the room. "Hey, Olivia!" he shouted across the room, the woman sitting at her own desk a few yards away. She glanced up from what looked like an irrational amount of paper work, eyes finding the source of the call.
"Yeah?"
Lake paused, wondering exactly how to go about this. Nothing was wrong, really, but he was prying. Prying was never good… but, hell! That's what he did, wasn't it? Lake rose, took a few strides over to the female detective's desk, and stood with broad arms crossed. Olivia watched him, brows rising. "What's on your mind?"
Lake frowned. "I was just wondering…." he paused, smiled, and chuckled a bit, shrugging. "Man, this is kind of weird. I guess I'll just come out with it; do you know Sara Greene?"
Olivia's face registered surprise. "You mean the reporter?"
Lake nodded.
"Why do you ask?" she asked, setting down her pen atop the pile of papers on her desk, fully facing the male detective.
Lake rubbed his chin, shrugging again. "She, uh… came in last night asking for an interview. Found her with Elliot-"
Olivia nodded, wry smile coming to her face. "-ah. You want to know why he dislikes her?"
"No, actually… she told me about that," he said, dancing around the subject for some reason. Olivia could sense it.
"Okay…" she said slowly, "… and?"
"Do you know her personally? It's just that… I mentioned your name in our conversation and she got kind of antsy. Practically bolted." There: he said it. Lake watched, waiting for Olivia's response. Surprisingly, she sighed, clasping her hands over her legs.
"I, uh… yeah, I know her. Haven't talked to her in a few years… but yeah, I know her." She looked up at Lake to see if it was enough to please his curiosity, but from his silence she could tell he wasn't even close to being appeased. Olivia sighed again. "I- you should really ask her."
"I did. I told you, she bolted."
"I-"
"Olivia."
She frowned, pretty face scrunching up in obvious frustration. "Look, when I last saw her, she was doing well. She- She doesn't need any more questions."
Lake opened his mouth to ask another question when a light bulb went off in his head. His mouth remained open in a rather comical fashion, but the look on his face was all but funny. "She was… attacked?" he asked. Olivia leaned back in her seat, rubbing a hand over her face before nodding, speaking one word:
"Raped."
Made sense, than, that Sara didn't want to talk about Olivia… too close for comfort. But, wait… "What about Stabler? Why does he treat her like crap? I mean, I know he's never been one for manners, but…"
"He doesn't know." Olivia uncrossed her legs, leaning forward again. "He was, uh… on leave when she came in."
"Why doesn't someone tell him?"
Olivia's eyes opened wide, bittersweet smile coming to her face. "And have her be coddled for the rest of her life? She doesn't want it. Believe me, I asked her if she wanted me to talk to Elliot. She doesn't want it."
Lake sighed, rubbing a hand through his cropped black hair. Olivia raised a hand. "Look… I don't know how you want to go about this. But… just be careful. Don't go spreading this around. It…" she frowned again, "… it was pretty bad," Olivia finished quietly.
Lake nodded. "'Course. Uh… thanks, Olivia."
She returned the nod. "Just be careful…" she repeated.
Back at his desk, Lake fingered Sara's business card. Removing his cell from its holster, he typed in a number and lifted the thing to his ear.
"Sara? It's Lake. You busy?"