7:03 am, Tuesday, September 23rd, 2008
Office of the Medical Examiner, Dr. Melinda Warner
Dr. Warner lifted the sheet up that covered the young victim.
"Trinetta Guthrie, age 7; she was raped and strangled. The bruises on the victim's shoulders, collar bone and neck, and petechiae hemorrhaging are all indicative of manual strangulation," Dr. Warner told Elliot and Olivia. She pointed to the outline of the bruised areas along the shoulder and neck as she spoke. "Oddly, he left no finger prints so the perp likely wore gloves."
She continued. "There is bruising and tearing to the pelvic area that resulted from the attack. Other than spermicide, no sign of fluids so he used a condom."
"Any trace of skin under her nails where she may have fought back?" Olivia asked quietly, while her eyes remained focused on the victim's face.
She glanced up in time to see Melinda shake her head. Melinda's eyes quickly scanned over the victim's body. "Based on the bruising, you're looking for a perp that has big hands, but I know that won't help much."
"Time of death?" Elliot asked.
"Based on post-mortem, I'd say shortly after midnight last night," Melinda answered.
x x x
Trinetta Guthrie's body was discovered in Central Park early that morning. She was reported missing the night before, along with her classmate Andy Morgan, and his older brother Derek. Uniformed cops from those districts carefully combed through the park, but thus far, they had not located the boys.
The SVU now had six missing children, one confirmed dead, and they still had no solid leads.
The school board worked with the NYPD to tighten security around the school grounds. All visitors to Tyler Elementary had to be approved in advance. Additionally, more uniformed officers were assigned to make routine trips on foot and in their patrol cars through the neighborhood, to keep an eye out for suspicious behavior or for anyone who tried to get near the school without proper clearance.
x x x
"Excuse me," Olivia said quietly, just before she turned and walked a few paces away from the table where Trinetta lay. She stood near the door to Melinda's office and leaned into the door frame with her arms folded.
She took a few deep breaths and tried to bring her focus back to the case, but felt as if her body had a different plan. The headache and slight stomach pain she had initially attributed to lack of sleep had intensified.
When they saw her step away, a look passed between them. "Just a second," Elliot told Melinda.
He understood. They had just seen Trinetta just the day before, and he knew Olivia had been very taken with her.
"Hey Liv?" he called to her quietly.
When he was about a foot a way, he put his hand on her shoulder.
"Liv?"
When his hand made contact with her, she turned around quickly, causing his arm to drop back down to his side. "I'm fine, Elliot," she replied, calmly, but with a hint of doubt in her voice.
She collected her thoughts before she looked him in the eye directly. "Give me a minute," she insisted.
Elliot nodded once and stepped back, clearing the way as Olivia walked past him and toward the door.
She walked out of the room and seconds later, he heard a door close further down at the end of the hall.
x x x
Last night…
Elliot and Olivia met with Cindy and Greg Morgan at the house where Mrs. Morgan and the boys lived.
What began peacefully, however, quickly turned bitter. The detectives spent the better part of the night trying to keep the divorced pair from fighting one another so they could focus on the more important matter; Andy and Derek.
"You keep making me out to be the villain here! You know I'd never hurt my own kids! You know me!" Greg yelled at his ex-wife. Suddenly, he reached out, grabbed Cindy by her shoulders and forced her to look at him. Cindy let out a gasp, and Elliot reacted quickly, pulling him off of her.
"I don't know you, Greg! If I did, then maybe we'd still be married! Now, for the love of God, our kids are missing! Let's deal with that and push the crap aside for now, okay? Think you can handle that?" Cindy bitterly spat back.
He shook his head, as he quickly reconsidered what he was about to say. He took two steps toward Cindy and continued his defensive jabs. "You're not going to quit are you? You're going to keep saying this is all my fault!"
"All I'm saying is that I want my kids!" Cindy started to cry. Soon she couldn't stop the sobs from coming. She took three small steps to her right and removed a tissue from a tissue box that sat on the glass coffee table behind Elliot.
"What, Cindy? You mean you finally get it now?" Greg began, as he took another step toward her. "You finally understand what you've been putting me through all these months? By deciding how, when and where I can see Derek and Andrew!"
Cindy wiped her eyes a few times and took a deep breath before she answered him. Her voice still quivered. "I didn't decide that, the court did! You can't just pull our kids out of school and return them whenever the hell you want!"
"I did that once, Cin. Once!"
"Oh really? I'd say more like three times!" Cindy refuted.
"Three? Are you kidding me?"
Cindy ignored him and continued. "They're just kids! They can't keep having their lives disrupted! They've been through enough with this divorce." She began to cry harder.
Greg's angry voice echoed against the walls of the open living area. He shook his head in disapproval and turned to Elliot. "She got her damn divorce, she got the damn house, my Jeep, most of my income, and now she's taking my kids away!" He pointed to Cindy as he spoke.
"I love my kids! Damn you, Cin!" he said, his voice got quieter and quivered a bit.
"I know you love the kids, Greg, but that still doesn't change what you've done since we separated," she said. She took a deep breath or two before she continued. "I have a hard time trusting you right now." She lightly wiped her nose with the tissue clenched in her left hand.
Greg shook his head in disbelief. "Where are they? Please, just tell me, Cindy. I won't leave with them without telling you. You have my word," he said.
Olivia saw the desperation in both of them. Each one more willing to believe the other one had the kids than think something else happened to them.
Suddenly, Olivia's focus drifted from the Morgan's to her partner, who had thus far maintained an uncharacteristically low profile. Elliot was quieter than usual that night, putting most of his energy into keeping Greg from attacking Cindy, while Olivia attempted unsuccessfully to redirect them back to the kids. The case was hard enough without them having to deal with a split couple's broken marriage. Olivia realized that with Elliot's phone feuds with Kathy, this was the last thing he needed to deal with.
Cindy and Greg continued to sling insults at one another until Olivia finally took Cindy into the kitchen, while Elliot spoke with Greg in the living room. They were at least able to get their version of the events of the day leading up to the children's disappearance.
Cindy had planned to leave work Monday afternoon to pick up her boys at 3:00 pm. It wasn't uncommon for her to pick up Trinetta and watch her until her parents got home. The Morgan's and the Guthrie's were friends, as were their children.
When Cindy, a triage nurse, got delayed due to an emergency, she called Greg and asked that he pick the children up from school. She left a message with a receptionist where Greg works and figured it was fine.
They separated a year ago and because Cindy had trouble finding babysitters, she'd either try to leave work to get them, get her sister to watch the kids, or call Greg. Her sister was a veterinarian and could help on occasion, but when she couldn't, Cindy's next resort was Greg. If Greg was running late, the kids knew to stay at the school playground, or if it was raining, they would stay inside the school.
Although she and Greg argued about ninety percent of the time, she believed he wouldn't hesitate to see that they made it home safely. With her job and no one else to call, she really had no choice.
But Greg Morgan never got the message.
The children never came home.
x x x
8:47 am, Tuesday September 23rd, 2008
Tyler Elementary School
"…The high today again will reach the low 80s.
And now the latest from the National Hurricane Center in Miami. Hurricane Lilith was projected to make landfall at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina this morning. According to hurricane experts, a high pressure system centered over the Tennessee valley has shifted Lilith's path. The category 3 hurricane is still gathering strength, and forecasters now believe it will make landfall at North Carolina's Outer Banks, just as Hurricane Isabel did in 2003.
Meanwhile, the nor'easter that continues to wreck havoc along the Maine coastline has caused three deaths in the Portland area. The primary threat along the shore has been storm surge and coastal flooding, while further inland, the system has produced several inches of rain, freezing rain, and even snow in higher elevation areas, making some roads impassable. The storm continues to head south where towns along the coast from Portsmouth, New Hampshire to Boston, Massachusetts, prepare for its arrival…"
Darnell Randon switched off the radio, then grabbed the clipboard to log the school bus's mileage for the morning.
Darnell had worked for the Manhattan school district as a bus driver for almost four years. Before this, he worked as an auto mechanic, but due to an injury on the job, he could no longer do the work. He went to work part-time for the Port Authority, where he worked alternating night shifts as a bus driver, and for Manhattan schools where he had two bus routes in the morning and one in the afternoon. Most of his day was free so usually he spent time restoring a car that an uncle left him in his will.
He was 24 years old, had never married, and rarely dated. Although he was well-liked, had a rugged charm, a dark tan from time spent outdoors, and could easily have his pick of women, he only had interest in one; the first grade teacher, Moriah Sentik. She was sweet, very attractive, always nice to him, and she had the most beautiful golden hair that he'd ever seen. He had pretty much settled on the belief that she would never give him the time of day.
He stepped off the school bus with his convenience store coffee cup in hand. As he glanced around, he saw Moriah walking from the parking lot back toward the main building.
"Hey, Moriah. Good morning, how are ya?" he greeted her, as he grinned nervously.
Moriah stopped and turned to look in his direction. "Oh, hi, Darry!" she replied, using a nickname she gave him when they first met, and she accidentally forgot his name. He graciously accepted it from her, although his boss and another driver liked to tease him about it.
"I'm good," she replied. I didn't see you yesterday; how was your weekend?" She smiled and walked a few paces closer to the bus.
Nervously, he raised his hand up and raked his fingers through his dirty blonde hair that, according to his mother and his boss, was in desperate need of a cut.
"Oh, it was…good," he responded initially, while he tried to remember what he did. "I mostly cleaned my place and watched a few games. I lead a pretty dull life," he admitted, with a shy smile.
"Don't feel bad, I didn't do much either. I made a few lesson plans and washed clothes. Sounds like we both have dull lives," she grinned at him again and rolled her eyes in an empathetic manner.
Anxiety was hitting him ten-fold. Because at this point, he was one more nervous, hair rake away from asking her if she wanted to compare dull lives over dinner one night.
But the CB squealed on behind him, signalling that he'd better answer it before his boss's voice sounded over the radio, and embarrassed him in some other way.
"Good talking to you, Moriah, but I think the boss needs something. Hope it's not too dull today, at least," he said, offering a half smile.
"See ya, Darry," she smiled and walked toward the main entrance of the school building.
He opened the door from the outside and hopped up the two steps to the driver's seat.
"Bus 919, this is base, please pick up," a familiar voice came from the radio receiver.
He grabbed the CB quickly. "This is Darnell. Whatcha need, Moe?"
"Randon! Hey boy, are you off trying to pick up that teacher again?" Molan Conall, the dispatcher laughed light-heartedly.
Darnell rolled his eyes. "No," he replied quickly, annoyed that his boss had figured out that he was. "Anyway, what's up?"
"Two things. First, I had an emergency conference with the school board earlier this morning. They have more security measures in place with those missing kids and all."
"Yeah, I figured. What's it mean for us?"
"Not a whole lot. I put a memo in your box that explains everything. I need you to stop by and pick it up this morning," Molan told him.
"Okay, not a problem. What else?" Darnell asked.
"I've also got a new safety inspection sheet in your box. That nor'easter is supposed to head this way. I don't know, it's probably a load of crap. Those morons don't know what they're doing, but you know how those TV announcers get. It's the end of the world…yeah whatever! Anyway, just grab that one as well, and sign off on it when you're done. You know the drill."
"Okay, Boss."
"Bye, Darnell. And quit trying to pick up that teacher!" Molan said, jokingly.
"I really wasn't," Darnell replied with a chuckle.
"Yeah, sure. Later, kid."
"Later, Boss. Bus 919, out," Darnell said as he signed off.
"Base, out."
x x x
9:18 am - Courthouse building
Casey got up from her seat and walked over to address the jury.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. This has been a complicated case from day one. Mr. Langan and I appreciate your time and attention as we've both presented this case to you over the past few weeks. However, Mr. Langan and I don't see eye-to-eye on how things transpired between Mr. Young and Ms. Aggler on the night of February 4th," Casey began in her closing arguments.
"The defense said that Mr. Brant Young wanted to be supportive toward Karen that night while she dealt with the loss of her child. Karen also suffers from Bipolar Disorder, which Dr. George Huang stated in his testimony and yes, the loss of her child impacted her greatly. But Karen knew she needed help. She took her medication regularly, she participated in therapy, and she tried to lead a normal life in spite of her traumatic past," she told the jury.
"Karen suffered a traumatic loss when her son Toby died, and while the defense would rather have you believe she lost her mind and made up this story of how Brant raped her, the defense couldn't be further from the truth. On the night of the 4th, Karen returned from her therapy appointment and wanted to be left alone. Mr. Young, on the other hand, decided that she shouldn't. When he arrived at her apartment, he fought with her, tore her clothing, slapped her several times, forced himself on her, and raped her. And then he tried to say that she made the whole thing up because of her condition."
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Karen is not trying to frame Brant. She is a brave, young woman who has fought to come back from too many traumatic events in her life. Karen Aggler was the victim of rape and her attacker is seated at that table." Casey pointed to the defendant. "Let's help her make one last step toward rebuilding her life again; bring some justice to this matter, and return a guilty verdict. Thank you," she said as she concluded. She walked back over to take her seat.
An hour later, the jury returned a guilty verdict on all charges. Judge Petrovsky thanked the jury for their time, the defendant was escorted out in handcuffs, and Casey stood to collect her belongings.
Trevor Langan walked over to shake Casey's hand. "A pleasure as always, Casey. Nicely done," he said sincerely.
"Thanks, Trevor," she replied, and smiled.
She walked toward the bench where the judge had just stood up to collect her things. Judge Petrovsky paused when she saw Casey approach. Casey handed the judge a statement she had prepared from the other case.
"Thank you. My clerk will contact you tomorrow."
Casey nodded. She had reached the door when she heard Judge Petrovsky again.
"And…..good work, Ms. Novak," she said appreciatively.
Casey turned back and smiled. "Thanks, your Honor."
She picked up her belongings, walked toward the door, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she exited the courtroom.
x x x
Casey stepped out of the elevator onto the main floor of the courthouse and turned her phone back on. When she did, she noticed her phone signalling a missed text message. She glanced at the display and smiled.
Message from Logan received 11:02 am: "How'd it go? Thinking of you... Logan."
Casey stepped off to the side, allowing others to pass by and exit the courthouse as she dialed Mike's number.
"Hey Logan. It's done! Guilty, all charges!" she told him excitedly.
"Yeah, I knew you'd get it," Mike replied. He sat on one of the benches outside the courtroom while the court was in recess. He glanced up quizzically when he saw a young law clerk run into the courtroom with a large stack of thick folders that looked as though it could topple from his hands at any moment.
"Right. And how exactly did you know?" she asked him, as she walked over toward an empty bench to get away from the crowd.
"Oh, I just knew," he answered, smugly.
"How?"
He smiled. "I'm a detective, remember?" he told her.
She smirked. "Well, thanks."
Casey sat down on the bench and started looking for a phone message she had earlier to call Fin. She found it paperclipped to the top of one of her notepads and tucked it inside her pocket.
"How's the case?" she asked.
"Last witness just finished. Closing arguments are next. If deliberations are quick, then I may leave as early as tomorrow afternoon," he reported. He stood up when the prosecutor gestured toward him and then entered the courtroom.
She beamed. "That's great!"
"Yep it is! Can't wait to be out of here and back home. Although they are talking about possible delays leaving the airport if that hurricane makes its way up here."
"Right. Keep me posted."
Mike sighed. "I can't wait to be home; you have no idea."
"Oh, I think I do." Casey smiled warmly.
"Case, it looks like they're re-conveniening. If I hide, maybe they won't find me?" he laughed.
"Nice try! It's okay…I'll let you go. Call me later?"
"Yep. Miss you."
"Miss you too."
x x x
11:50 am – SVU rooftop
Olivia walked up the last few steps and opened the door to the rooftop.
One day, several months ago, while trying to calm herself down after a tough case, she had discovered a door that led up to a different part of the roof. It gave her a view of the river and much more visibility than she had at the other spot where Elliot, Munch, Fin, and Cragen frequented. She decided to keep her newly-discovered spot to herself.
Olivia was beginning to like it up here more and more. It was partly the view and partly just being removed from the masses and given a spot all her own overlooking the city.
She had always felt as though a part of the city was molded into who she was. Although since she became a cop, and even more so with SVU, she began to feel as though she was also a part of the city.
She and Elliot had jointly contributed to the removal of numerous child molesters and rapists from the streets, although she didn't believe it would ever be enough to say that the streets were safer.
Yet, every day, despite the fact that there was always one more rapist and one more child molester right around the corner, she'd keep going. She knew she had a reason.
Suddenly, her mind drifted to the little girl.
Trinetta Guthrie. Little innocent free wind.
She was a beautiful child. And Olivia's heart ached to see her so full of life, smiles and giggles one day just to have her life suddenly, tragically taken away the next.
Her mind drifted back to the case and what happened earlier that morning.
After Olivia left Warner's that morning, she decided to go for a little walk. She couldn't quite put words to it, but something felt off and suddenly she couldn't focus on the case.
Trinetta's body was discovered by an off-duty cop and reported to SVU. After finally leaving the Morgan's and settling down for three hours of sleep, Olivia was awoken by her cell phone and moments later, she arrived to examine the crime scene. She continued on as she normally would, but quickly began to lose perspective.
Things had pretty much reversed from the night before to this morning. Last night, she was the one to keep things moving while Elliot was distant. This morning, Elliot was very involved, talking to witnesses and directing the CSU, and she went through the motions, seemingly present only in the physical sense.
As she walked further and further, things became much clearer. Trinetta seemed so oddly familiar to her, and she finally realized why.
One day, around the time Olivia had considered adopting a child, she sat on a bench and watched some children at a playground. Three orphaned little girls ran between a slide, swings, and a jungle gym.
As she watched the little girls play, Olivia decided that she needed someone else in her life. She wanted to at least look into the option of adopting a child.
Somehow, it hadn't turned out the way she wanted. She would have loved to have a child. Olivia wanted to be able to give that child everything she never had growing up, but knew that part of her would always belong to her work. She would always be torn.
One of the little girls she saw at the park that day looked very much like Trinetta. She had the same bright red hair, the same giggle, and was just as full of life. Olivia had returned to the park on random days and happened to see her a few more times. When she met Trinetta, she hadn't made the connection. However, as it finally hit her, she felt her eyes well up with tears.
x x x
Moments later she turned and headed back toward the morgue. Realizing she needed to get her focus back to the case, Olivia took a few deep breaths and tried to clear her head. Fortunately, it seemed to work and questions began to come to her. She looked up when she was a block away from the ME's office and saw her partner walking toward her.
"I'm okay, El." Olivia smiled when she saw the concern in his eyes.
"You sure?" he asked.
"Yeah."
He put a hand on her back and lightly guided her back to the car, opening the door when they reached the passenger side. As they got into the car, he updated her on the rest.
"Just got off the phone with CSU. They found some footprints near the vic and are working on a profile," he told her.
"Anything else turn up near the vic?" she asked.
"No, but we're headed there now," he told her as he pulled out onto the street.
"Okay."
"Munch and Fin went back to speak to Greg Morgan. Have to find out who this friend of his is, too," he added.
"The Guthries?" she asked, wondering if they had been notified yet.
"Cragen spoke to them already."
Olivia nodded and turned to look out the passenger window. Her mind drifted back to Trinetta. She wanted justice as with any victim in any case. It may be due in part to where her memories took her, but this one felt just a bit more personal. This one cut just a little bit deeper. She wouldn't rest until she had Trinetta's killer behind bars.
She jumped a little when Elliot stirred her out of her thoughts. "We'll find him, Liv," Elliot said, sensing she needed to hear it.
"I know."
Somewhere within her, a storm was brewing.
x x x
It was a picture-perfect day in Manhattan. The air was comfortably warm and pleasant for a change, almost inviting. It was the type of day most would be carrying their lunch to the parks to eat.
Olivia looked out on the horizon and suddenly noticed that a band of low-level cumulus clouds had moved in and filled the sky. A breeze flowed in around her in all directions, at times billowing the strands of hair off of her face.
She took in the temporary sense of peace that set in, and allowed it to calm her. Her thoughts drifted from the case to Trinetta and then settled on Elliot for a moment. She got the impression that he wanted to talk about something. Unfortunately, as with anything in their line of work, they were constantly being interrupted.
Her cell phone signaled a new text message.
Message from El received 12:03 pm: "Munch ordered chinese. #17 and #24 for us. Hurry, or I'll eat your eggroll. - El."
She grinned. "Thanks. Be right there," she typed back, and hit send.
Next chapter: Small Craft Advisory