Twelfth Precinct…
To say that Detective Nate Rawlings was surprised to see Hanna stepping out of the Captain's office as he stepped out of the elevator at the Precinct, would be an understatement. He had not expected to see her until Friday. Today was Wednesday. He was supposed to have two more days to figure out what to say to her. Then the Captain stepped out as well.
"Detectives!" She yelled across the bullpen and waved them over. Seeing the two women side by side, Rawlings felt like an idiot that he hadn't noticed the resemblance earlier. He was a Detective, for crying out loud! It was his job to notice the details. Walking toward the Captain and Hanna, he felt like an even bigger idiot for not noticing the third woman standing behind them. Based on her posture and body language, almost as though she were cowering from some imaginary source, he rationalized that she was scared; more than scared really, the girl looked like she was terrified. This was only enhanced by the contrasting emotions of rage and determination displayed by Captain Beckett-Castle and her daughter. Nate glanced furtively over to his partner as he came to a stop; the slight smirk on the older cop's face told him that his partner thought he was an idiot too.
"Detectives, you remember Katie Ryan, of course; roommate of the victim." Kate placed a comforting arm around the young woman. The two men gave only brief nods of acknowledgement as she continued. "She has some new information on the case."
"How about we go sit in the break room while we talk? Do you drink coffee, Katie?" Nate asked gently as he pulled her away from his boss and guided her across the room.
"No thank you. But, tea would be nice, if you have any." Her voice quiet and withdrawn, just like the rest of her. Something was certainly very, very wrong. She had been shocked when they interviewed her yesterday, but this was something else entirely.
Kate stopped Detective Evans with a hand on his shoulder as he moved to follow his partner. A moment later, Hanna ceased to move as well, when she realized that her mom was not beside her. Kate had been watching and nudged her chin toward the break room, indicating that her daughter should continue following Detective Rawlings. When they were alone within earshot, she turned to the remaining Detective and demanded an update.
"Peters didn't have much for us that was concrete." He began. "He confirmed her death was from the gunshot, a .38. There was an indention on her head that he suspects was from the butt of the gun, and there was some DNA under her fingernails."
"So, she struggled her killer. Good, hopefully, that DNA will help us catch the SOB that much faster." Kate folded her arms over her chest. "Anything else?"
"Yes, Sir. This one is odd, and has me a little concerned. The killer wrote a Roman numeral two on her left palm before posing the body." A fierce frown instantly appeared on Kate's forehead as she mentally studied the implications of such information.
"You're right. That is an odd sock. Let's join the interview, then we can update the murder board and plan our strategy from there."
"Yes, Sir." Evans replied.