A Dark Path - Chapter 18

He entered the office and the object of his desire and vexation was sitting at her desk typing. Her shoulders were tense and her body stiff. There was no sign she was hung over, but then Reese was an experienced drunk. He cautiously pulled out his chair, but she never looked up. He sat down on the edge of his seat and pointedly stared at her, she didn't react – at all.

"Reese," he began and she connected her eyes to his, nothing else on her body moved, just her eyes. Unbridled hate shone there. He swallowed hard. He knew a lot of looks from his partner – disdained, disgust, annoyance, pain, loss, but not this…never this. "Do we need to talk about…" he offered awkwardly.

"No," she said firmly holding his eyes. The heat in them was one he would never forget.

"You don't even know what I'm gonna…" he argued weakly.

"No," she repeated and this time her eyes narrowed. Not wanting to provoke a fight he rolled over and gave her what she wanted – his silence.

Tidwell wandered over to express his condolences forlornly. Dani was far from gracious, brushing aside his concern abruptly and walking into the coffee room.

"She okay?" Tidwell inquired.

Charlie who was staring after her replied without looking, "No, I don't think so."

"You're her partner. Can't you help her?" Tidwell objected.

"No, " Crews said with a hint of sadness and regret in his tone, "I don't think I can."

Tidwell said nothing, but took his cue and walked away.

"I don't think anyone can," Crews commented to himself.

The next couple days he didn't see much of Reese. There were funeral arrangements to be made and then the fateful day that the rest of the office dressed in their navy blue uniforms and paid tribute to the fallen SWAT Commander. No matter what else he was and how he'd died, LAPD publically celebrated one of their own. Crews, of course, was not to attend. He knew this.

He sat alone in the quiet squad bay going over the evidence in the Martin case. He and Reese both liked the parents for it, but there wasn't any direct evidence they killed the little girl. Autopsy demonstrated a very discreet injury. Suffocation – not strangulation, but softer still kills and it was the cause of death of little Madeline. Something soft and innocent like a pillow was placed over the girl's little pink mouth and nose until she stopped struggling. Suffocation was a woman's crime his instincts told him this. Men were more prone to rage and liked to use their hands to manually choke the life from someone, but women killed more softly, more cautious, more quietly.

This made him think of Reese. She wouldn't suffocate him, she's probably shoot him or beat him to death but then Dani Reese was not most women. What she fought most, what she fought hardest was herself. He knew that his lack of patience was what was driving them both insane. He needed to leave her alone - let her come to him. Then he shook himself out of this own mind and focused on the case.

He looked at the parent's photos and neither looked capable of killing a child, but Charlie Crews knew "looks" is not always "is." The best witnesses were the other children, but the parents wouldn't give the detectives access without them being present and neither child would say a word against their parents with them sitting in the same room. He had to find a way to talk to them without their parents being there.

He decided to visit their school and try to catch them at recess. He was in luck as Chauncey was on the soccer field. Crews was something of an athlete so he waited until the ball came his way and then worked back into the group of young boys. He was faster and his longer legs made him far better than even the best of the boys. He was instantly popular and showing off his badge and gun only seemed to cement the deal. He was "cool" one boy pronounced. The whistle blew and the boys headed for the locker room when he called out to Chauncey. It took less ten minutes and a hard stare for the boy to give it up.

Madeline was a stubborn, willful child who misbehaved often and flouted authority. Their mother did not know how to deal with her, particularly after her first two kids were so compliant. She lost her temper with Madeline and the boy believed what had started as a contest of wills ended with his little sister dead, but he was at school and didn't see anything directly. It was a clue that led nowhere – but that Crews knew that you couldn't be nowhere.

When he returned to the office, Reese was at her desk. This perplexed him. He knew there was to be a wake at the Reese home. She wasn't attending it?

"Aren't you supposed to be…" he offered.

"What?" she challenged.

"Somewhere," he finished his question.

"I am somewhere," she replied coolly.

"Your father…" he offered as a hint.

"Is dead," she countered. "I got a killer to catch," she grabbed her jacket and the case file.

"We've got a killer to catch," he corrected deliberately blocking her path with his body. "Reese," he drew her name out until she looked up at him, "WE have a killer to catch."

"So get your coat," she said angrily. "Because YOU," she pointedly argued, "are holding US up."

In the elevator he briefed her on his morning's activities or rather he tried to before she became angry and began shouting at him. "You did what?"

"I'm trying to tell you," he tersely batted back. He was stiff and awkward and she was downright hostile.

"That's just fuckin' great, Crews," she derided. "You interview a kid without a custodial parent," she breathed out hot air. "Jesus Christ…"

"Let's be honest," he was snide in his return comment. "That's far from the worst thing I've done."

She stared at him. "Are you trying to piss me off?"

"Is it working?" he parried.

She snapped her mouth shut because it had fallen open in shock. Everyone else was treating her with kid gloves. They were being so nice it disgusted her. But not everyone knew the Jack Reese that Charlie Crews did. Her partner knew the world was probably better off with one less dirty cop and mean spirited parent. He didn't cut her any slack and certainly didn't dance around her on eggshells. She'd told him she was ready to go back to work and he accepted that – accepted her – part of her knew he always had and he always would.

They sat in silence for several moments before he just couldn't help himself and he began speaking again. This time however it wasn't about the case. "I didn't kill him," he confessed bluntly, "and I don't know who did." He quieted for a moment when he drew her dark eyes, "but I'll help you find out - if you want to know."

It was a peace offering and a confession. It was an olive branch.

"I don't know if I want to know," she sighed looking skyward. "Once you know something you know – you can't unknow it."

"Now you sound like me," he smiled softly and she knew she did.

"Yeah, that's how I know I'm losing it," she laughed but the sentiment didn't reach her eyes, "you're starting to make sense to me."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, a lot of the stuff I thought I knew," he offered, "turns out I was wrong."

That made her grimace. "Was my father a bad man Crews?"

"Was he bad to you?" He answered her question with one of his own.

She nodded and bit her lip, looking away.

"Then I would say yes," he told her firmly. He reached for and held onto her hand; even though he knew she didn't want a show of support, a gesture of kindness and a connection with him, he held fast to her. He tethered her in the now and his eyes held hers in a gentle gaze that was more a caress than a look. "No one gets to hurt you, Reese."

She accepted his comment, his gesture and his kindness answering back with a small, but true smile and a squeeze of his hand. "So…" she redirected them to the case, "how do we get this woman?"

"I got an idea," he offered.

Reese did a double take and rolled her eyes when he winked at her.