Chapter Nine
Charlie looked over to her Uncle Fritz, knowing something was wrong. Her aunt would be home soon, and she couldn't help but feel tension building. She wondered if she wanted to stay for dinner, like she had been offered.
"Uncle Fritz, are you okay?" She asked him, worried. He looked across from the couch to her, his gaze was glossy.
"I'm fine," he lied.
"You sure, you don't look okay." She said referring to the dark circles under his eyes and his appearance that was less than normal.
"Yea, just worried."
"What do you mean?" Charlie wondered.
"Your Aunt has been acting differently ever since she started hang out with Captain Raydor," he told her. "I think…" he trailed off.
"What?" Charlie pressed.
"I think she may be having an affair, and she is using Captain Raydor as a cover story so she can get away with it," he told her. Charlie swallowed harshly.
"You really think Aunt Brenda would do that?"
He shrugged, lazily. "We are all capable of doing things we never thought we could," he admitted.
Charlie turned back around. So, she hadn't been the only one to think Brenda was stepping out on her uncle, but she didn't dare say to him that she thought it was with Sharon. She would talk to Rusty, see if he knew anything first before confronting her Aunt again.
"I think you're losing it, Uncle Fritz," she said.
There was a pause as the door clicked. Neither had heard the car pull up, but it was clear that Brenda was home. Brenda opened the door, with her sun hat and sunglasses on and her luggage in hand. She beamed with radiance and glee. Her smile was wide, grinning at the memories of this week. Her eyes landed on Fritz, instantly making her smile drop. She could tell he was drunk, and drunk around Charlie. She walked over to Charlie, dropping her luggage by the door carelessly.
"Charlie, you're here early?" Brenda asked walking up to her giving her a small hug.
"Yea, class wasn't held today, our professor was sick. And you're late?"
"We stopped for ice cream," she explained. "Sharon knows the best place in town for it. It was truly the best ice cream I've ever had. The store even knew her by name."
Fritz scoffed, and walked over to the kitchen. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" He said with a low growl. She frowned lightly but shrugged it off.
"What's for dinner?" She asked.
"I am making meatloaf," Charlie said, standing. "I should probably go check on it." She walked out of the living room and into the kitchen.
"How was your trip?" He asked, half looking at her.
She sat on the couch. "It was good. I had plenty of thinkin' time."
"You did?" He asked, and was answered with a nod. "I did too."
"And?" She wondered.
"I don't think this is the right time to discuss this," he said, glancing at the kitchen. She bit the inside of her lip.
"Fine, then can we talk about how you are drinkin' with my niece here?" She asked. "You want my whole family to know?"
His face fell, and jaw clenched. "I haven't been drinking," he fought.
"Really, Fritzy?" She pondered, and shook her head. "So, you've decided." She stood, and began making her way to the kitchen.
"Decided?"
"No, it's fine. I understand. I've decided too," she said, turning back to him.
"Decided what? What have I decided, and what have you?" He wondered, genuinely not understanding.
"You've decided alcohol over our marriage," she told him. He walked closer.
"That is not what I decided!" He yelled at her, stepping over to her until he was towering her.
"No, what you want is me and the booze, but you can't have both," she yelled back, her accent heavier as she did.
"You don't get to decide that," he warned her.
"Yes I do," she fought back. Her hands were shaking and balled into a fist. Her eyes were wide, trying not to show fear.
"Uh, Aunt Brenda?" They heard Charlie's voice, and their heads shot to the direction of the kitchen door. Brenda stepped away from Fritz.
"We'll finish this conversation later," Fritz said. "What do you want?" He asked Charlie rudely.
"Dinner is, uh," she stumbled. She was scared. She had seen this kind of anger before, when he found out Charlie had drugged Brenda. But this anger was also different; it wasn't in fear of intoxicating himself, it was that he already had. "Dinner's done," she got out.
*.*.*.*.*
Rusty walked out of the school gates, seeing a blue Ford Escort Charlie told him she would be driving. He lied to Sharon, telling her he was staying late at school to make up a test when really he and Charlie had agreed to meet up after a scared call from Charlie at midnight last night. He rushed over to Charlie's car, and got inside. She drove to a McDonald's down the road near the school campus, and offered to buy him lunch.
"What did you want to talk about?" He asked, taking a bit of his fries. "You sounded really worried on the phone last night."
"I was… It's a long story," she began.
"So, start."
"Okay, but... Do you know if Captain Raydor and my Aunt Brenda are… are having an affair?" She struggled to get out.
He looked up at her, surprised. He swallowed his food, and took a drink of his Dr. Pepper.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I thought they may have been having one when we went shopping, 'cause of the way they acted. But Uncle Fritz told me yesterday that he thought she was 'cause she was spending so much time with Captain Raydor. I pushed it off thinking she not a lesbian, and I didn't think she would cheat on him."
"And now?"
"After seeing their relationship now, I can't blame her. I'm worried for her."
"Worried? Why?" He took another drink of his soda.
"Uncle Fritz is drinking again. I thought he was when I stopped by the other day, and then were arguing about it last night. I've never seen him so upset. I didn't want to leave her alone with him." Rusty shifted his jaw, knowing that uneasy feeling. "If she is having an affair with Captain Raydor, or, hell, with anyone, I don't think it's going to turn out good. I'm not sure he would go there, but with drinks in him…" she trailed off.
He sighed. "Obviously you can't tell anyone, but they are together. And you can tell just by being around them that they just want to be together. That's all they want. They're in love. But I don't think that's our place to tell Sharon about Agent Howard. If your Aunt wanted her to know, she would have told her."
"But what if something happens because we didn't say anything, can you live with that?" She asked him, with seriousness coating her voice. She pushed her hair behind her ear. "Look, if they love each other they will understand we are doing this for her-"
"But what if Sharon gets upset and confronts Agent Howard?" Rusty continued. "Who is to say that'd be any better?"
Charlie slumped into the chair, understanding his view. "So, either way it's not good."
"Pretty much," he said, shrugging.
"What do we do? We can't just sit back and do nothing."
He took a bit of his French fry. "Their adults and they all got themselves in this mess. They need to figure it out. If we step in, it's only going to cause more chaos and you know it."
She tipped her head back. She did know it, but she couldn't sit idle by. "Maybe Captain Raydor already knows?" Charlie suggested.
"Oh no, she wouldn't have it," Rusty explained. "She'd shoot him in the head, or come damn close."
She rolled her neck, looking down at her food not hungry. "If something happens though?"
"How about this, if you see anything like it again or if it gets worse then we'll tell her. Okay?" He compromised.
"Fine," Charlie accepted, though she still felt its pressure in the pit of her stomach.
*.*.*.*
Fritz sat in the cramped van, shifting to look closer at the camera. He sighed, knowing what he had seen wasn't what he thought it was.
"Hungry?" Sharon asked him. This state out had been going on for nearly five hours, and they had seen nothing.
Sharon and Fritz were in the surveillance van, Sanchez and Skyes where about twenty feet in front of them, and Provenza and Flynn where on the other side of the building. They stating out an escort house waiting to see if their suspect would show up (though they knew he eventually would and they'd be able to finally corner him). They didn't even have a clear description of him, just a vague description that could fit hundreds of people.
They had been looking for this guy for two days, and had yet to see him. He had killed two people, one young girl of the senator and the other was a blonde hooker. The only thing that had connected the two were the ballistics'. They hadn't even talked to the girls from the agency knowing they'd wouldn't be willing to work with them because the proof tying him to the murder was barely any at all, so they figured it was best to try this way first.
"I am, yea," he said. Sharon reached down into her bag and pulled out two granola bar.
"Sorry, it's all I have," she told him, half smiling. He smiled and took it.
"It's better than nothing," he reminded her. He was feeling terrible, having not taken a drink since before their stake out. He hoped it was over soon before he had to dig out the small bottle he had in his pant pocket he kept on him for instances like this, though he could feel the alcohol still in his system, he also felt the withdraw starting. He turned off his ear piece and mic. "Uh, Captain Raydor, you and Brenda are friends, right?"
"Um, yea?" She answered, feeling nervous as to where this was going. She turned off hers, so no one could hear.
He rubbed his face, not really wanting to ask the pending question. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. "Do… Do you, uh, know if she is… seeing someone?"
She sat up straight, crossed her legs, and folded her hands on her knees. "Like having an affair?" She did her best to keep her voice from wavering.
"Yea."
She swallowed harshly. "No, she hasn't told me anything. I don't think she would tell me something like that," she lied. He sighed, defeated.
"Do you think she is?"
Her hands clenched, trying not to walk out of the van and away from this conversation. She squinted her eyes slightly, trying to convince him.
"Why do you ask?" She diverted the question.
He rested his elbows on his knees, showing her the hurt in him. "She's not the same. Hasn't been since she left Major Crimes. But after about of month at the DA's everything changed; she worked late, started disappearing during her lunches-"
"What do you mean disappearing?"
"-her co-workers would say she went out to lunch with you, but when I would ask her how lunch was she said she didn't eat anything, or that she never left work." His face was burdened, and conflicted. She now saw the impact of her choices. It was never her intention to hurt the man in front of her, though he wasn't her favorite person he didn't deserve what Brenda and her were doing to him.
"Go on," she said, needing to hear the rest of his thoughts.
"When she's home she's not happy. We don't make love anymore, it's just rough harsh sex. A part of her isn't there, it's with whoever she is having the affair with."
Sharon's face fell, and she tried not to cry. Her hands trembled. Brenda had lied to her, broken a promise. "I was under the impression you two weren't sleeping together anymore?" she murmured.
"What would make you think that?" Fritz wondered.
"She told she wasn't going to, not after you hurt her," she told him. Her eyes suddenly cold.
"She told that?!" He gasped, in shock. Though he didn't really understand why, Brenda didn't have any girls to talk to other than Sharon.
"Yes, I made her tell me," she confessed.
"I don't mean to hurt her, but I can't help it," he fought. His body was now trembling, and his forehead began to sweat.
"How can you not help it?!" She yelled. A realization hit her. "You don't mean to hurt her, meaning you've hurt her more than once?!"
He pulled back. He would never say it out loud, but he found Sharon very intimidating. With her yelling directly at him didn't suit him well. He didn't know why but he found her oddly attractive today, even more so than most days. He found it hard not to stare at her on most days, stunned by her beauty. But today he couldn't help it. She was almost in a glow. Her hair was in lose curls, not in its usual carefully thought through straightened do. Her shoulders where more relaxed, though that had tighten. again during this conversation. She even had a look of blissful glee on her face until they had begun this conversation, which had turned into sadness and almost broken. She wore a tight purple dress that flattered her every curve, and had a slight plunge at her neckline showing just enough cleavage, that he found himself staring at. He could not deny he wasn't attracted to this woman, no matter how intimating he found her.
He shook his head, his mind running fast. He felt like he was going to be sick or pass out, but the thought of touching her seemed to keep him awake. Thoughts he knew he shouldn't have. Thoughts he forced out of his mind once and hadn't reopened because he loved his wife. His wife was slipping further and further away from him. He knew his drinking wasn't the only reason for her distance either. She loved him, he had no doubt of that, but she wasn't in love with him anymore. She loved her lover. The lover that no one seemed to know about, but he knew was there. He wasn't blind. And that drove him to drink more. It was a mad never ending game.
"I don't mean to, and I am scared I will end up hurting her again," he confessed, feeling weak. His body feeling fragile. Withdraw was being to take over his body. He took a deep breath, and looked over to Sharon. "I don't want to do that. And I think that's why she is cheating on me, because I'm not me anymore." His breathing grew shallow. He couldn't grab his flask, not with her watching him.
Her face changed from anger into fear and acknowledgement. "Oh my god," she muttered. "You're going through withdraw," she stated. She reached out, trying to touch her forehead.
"No!" He fought, trying to use any strength he had. He gripped her wrist, and shoved it away from him.
"Yes, you are! I watched my ex-husband go through it," she fought back, knowing she was right. She stood, bending slightly because of the low roof of the van. She moved over to him, leaned over him. He tilted his head, and pushed past his blurred vision to look down her shirt. "Give it to me," she told him with stern voice.
He lifted his eyebrow, drastically misunderstanding what she meant. He reached up, and cupped her breast. His thoughts clearly not right. She gasped loudly, and pulled back.
"Agent Howard!" She exclaimed. "That is not what I meant?!" She yelled.
He looked up to her, his head feeling like it weigh a thousand pounds. "Then what did you mean?"
"The alcohol that you brought on this mission. You wouldn't have gone on this stake out without something," she told him. She felt exposed, though she wasn't, but the way he had grabbed her made her feel like it.
He arched his eyebrow. "You want it, you'll have to search me for it." His voice was shaking, so was his body. It astounded her that even through this he was hitting on her, but she wondered if maybe that was why he was.
She narrowed her eyes. She couldn't comprise this mission because of him, she wouldn't. Her stomach turned over. She walked back over to him, and reached out to his body. Her hands fell to his side, instantly finding the small bottle in his left pocket. She felt his hands running along her thighs, causing her to swallow harshly. This is for Brenda, she told herself. She knew if she took it, maybe she could force him to detox. Force away both his pain and the pain he was bringing Brenda. She knew Brenda loved her enough not to leave her, but she could try to help with the man Brenda loved. Though she couldn't help but feel the irony. She was so hurt by Brenda's lie, yet here she was trying to help her.
His hand moved to her ass, and pushed her forward. Her chest now pushed into his face, and his hands didn't leave her behind. She quickly pulled the small bottle flask out of his pocket as he his hand began kneading her, and forced herself out of his grasp. She wondered if he'd be so keen to touching her if he knew she was his wife's lover. She moved over to the door, opened it, and opened the flask.
"No," she heard Fritz call out as she began pouring out on the pavement below. She felt an arm wrap around her waist, pulling her back into the van. He flipped her around, causing her glasses to fly across the van. He pushed Sharon to the ground, placed both legs at each side of her waist, and forced her arms above her head. The force he held her wrist would for sure leave bruises.
"Does it really mean that much to you?" She tested, though she could see his body did in fact need it. "Take it," she told him.
He let go of her right wrist, and took the flask from her hand. He quickly drank the rest of container. He pulled off of her, and put the flask back into his pocket. She stayed on the ground, to stunned to really move.
"God, you're pathetic," she told him, rolling her head to look at the van wall. "This is how you get your way, isn't it? You just force Brenda into doing what you want. No wonder she is cheating on your sorry ass," she muttered.
"I don't force Brenda into anything. But I guess someone as cold as you wouldn't understand that, would you?" he shot back, taking a seat again. "How could anyone love you?"
The blow was low, and she felt more tears threatening her eyes. She put her by her mouth, and shut her eyes tightly. He was right. How could anyone love her? This woman she loved, and gave everything too had betrayed her. She knew Fritz wasn't lying about the sex, he had no motive to lie about that, at least not that he knew of. Sharon thought that Brenda was now hers, only to be boldly and bluntly reminded that she wasn't. She couldn't help as a small cry poured out of her. How could this woman make her cry so much?
This caught Fritz's attention, and he looked down to her. She had curled into a ball and was crying. This woman he just called cold, was now crying. His heart sunk.
"Captain, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," he told her. He reached out for her hand, to help her up. She sat up, ignoring his hand.
"You're right though. No one can love me, not the way I want," she told him. "I've tried so hard to be this person, to feel, and I guess that is all I will ever be is the Ice Queen."
"Ice Queens don't cry," he told her. She wiped her tears, and he reached down for her hand.
"Don't touch me," she shot at him. He pulled back. She stood, and shook her head. She opened her mouth, but was cut off by a loud pop.
Quickly recovering herself, she reached down to the counter for her gun. Fritz did the same. They flung open the van doors, and saw Skyes and Sanchez running across the street to the building they were watching. Sharon turned to Fritz.
"You're staying here," she warned him. "I am not about to have a drunk ruin my op," she told him. She turned back on her ear piece and mic.
Without waiting for a response, she ran off. She followed Skyes into the building, trying to locate the direction in which the shots came from. They heard screaming coming from the floor above, and moved up.
"Lt. Flynn, do you see anyone running out?" Sharon asked over her mic.
"I don't see anyone, Captain," he answered.
They rushed into the room and found two women lying on the floor with another woman in the corner covered in blood but still alive. Sharon had Skyes stay in the room and call an ambulance, and they checked the rest of the building for their missing suspect. After coming up dry, they resided back into the main room where the girls were still crying. Skyes had already declared the two as dead, and the another as wounded.
"Damn it," Sharon muttered. "How'd he escape!?" She demanded to know. She had eyes on both exits, and he had still managed to get out. She sighed, and moved over to the injured girl that Skyes was trying to get a story out of, thought it was pointless because the girl was in shock. She was rambling nonsense. Sharon knew that she would have to calm down before even thinking of doing a proper question and answer.
"Get her to the hospital, and stay with her," she ordered Skyes. "Go with them," she said to Sanchez.
She walked back outside, and leaned against the van. Would she not kill for a cigarette right now? She let her head drop back against the metal, creating a soft "dong" like noise. She went to push her glasses up, and realized that she had never picked up her glasses. She clenched her jaw, refraining from tears. She covered her face, trying to contain herself. Her heart felt like it was about to shatter, and she needed to stop all this madness before it did. For so long she had to be strong and not let herself be fragile, and now that she had opened herself up to love and had become soft, she was close to breaking.
"Captain Raydor?" She heard Fritz ask. His voice alone pierced her.
"Agent Howard, please leave me alone," she told him, not looking at him. She was glad that Flynn and Provensza were still inside the building excavating what they could from the crime scene.
"I can't. I need to know if you are going to report me or not. I would to tell Brenda myself before it is actually done, if you are."
She looked up at him, and he could see tears threatening her eyes again.
"You don't need to know anything," she told him. "But-" she diverted her gaze to the right, unable to look at him, "-no I'm not. It… It would hurt Brenda to much," she said.
She let out a small laugh at the irony. She was so worried about breaking the heart of the women who just broke hers. She sighed, and crossed her arms in front of her. How was she going to handle this? How much could she take? It wasn't a matter of why Brenda had done what she did, the why couldn't matter at all, not when Rusty was at risk. She had to make the choice of ending this before she fell apart and risk losing him, or leave.
She didn't want to leave. She did want the why, but knew she couldn't risk it. She couldn't risk a second chance, her heart couldn't take it. What if Fritz found out and she lost any chance of adopting Rusty? But what was worse; losing Brenda, the only person she has ever truly loved, or possibly losing Rusty? All of the worries she had pushed aside and had previously justified, where now the sole things biting her in the ass.
She was angry to the point of shaking, and hurt beyond the point of completely rational thinking. What hurt the most was that Brenda didn't just lie but that she was still having sex with Fritz. She was sharing Brenda. She had put all of trust in Brenda only to be deceived in return. She was kicking herself for that, knowing this reason was why she didn't let people in. She was also upset at herself because she knew she was going to end up hurt in this relationship, that she would be on the losing end, but she didn't think it would hurt this bad or that she would allow it to. Had Brenda really loved her? And if so, it couldn't have been to the extent she had expressed.
"Sharon, are you okay?" Fritz asked her. He could see her struggling with an internal battle as her hands and head were shaking uncontrollably and her eyes were blood red to stop the tears. He couldn't help but wonder if it was what he had done to her by coming on to her, but he knew for a fact that it was also in words he had said. "I really didn't mean that, when I said no one could love you," he tried soothing the wound he created.
"Just stop," she said. She threw her hands up slightly in a warning manor, and walked away.
*.*.*.*
Brenda collapsed on the bed, exhausted from the rough, controlling, almost overbearing sex. Her legs throbbed, and hips now bore welts and were almost surely bleeding from Sharon's nails. She watched as Sharon sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. She pushed her hands through her hair, and let out a shaky sigh.
"I have to get back to work," she told Brenda. She stood and walked over to where her now wrinkled clothes lay on the floor. She bent down to pick them up. Quickly she began dressing. Once she had gotten her underwear and tanktop on, Brenda finally asked the question on her mind.
"What's wrong? Are you upset with me?" Brenda asked, her accent thicker than normal due to concern.
Sharon pulled tossed her hair back and looked down, adjusting the wire of her bra. "Why would you ask that?" she diverted. She had a tendency to do that while avoiding answering.
"You were rough, very rough, which you never are. You won't look at me. You are being…"she drifted her words. "You are shuttin' me out."
"I'm not shutting you out," Sharon lied. She grabbed her slacks from the ground, and pulled them over her legs hastily.
"Then tell me what's wrong?" Brenda pleaded.
Sharon huffed, annoyed, and dropped her hands harshly on her thighs making a clapping sound. She looked over to Brenda. "I need some time, Brenda," she said.
Brenda's face shifted from concern to hurt. "What?" The blonde barely got out.
"I can't do this right now," Sharon said, walking to the other side of the hotel room for her shirt.
"No! Tell me why?!" Brenda demanded, shooting towards the edge of the bed after Sharon.
Sharon sat, debating whether or not she would give Brenda the whole reason. She couldn't. Not without hurting her more than she already was. She nervously fiddled her fingers, and looked over to Brenda. If she was going to lie, she at least needed to be convincing.
"I'm in the process of adopting Rusty, and I already have so many negatives against me. If it came out that you and I are having an affair, I wouldn't get him."
"That bullshit," Brenda said, calling her out. "Rusty already knows about you and I, and they can't not give you that because you have a girlfriend."
"Who's married," Sharon pointed out.
"But I-" Brenda started, but was cut off.
"I've already made my decision," Sharon said, standing.
"That's not all of it," Brenda said quickly so she wasn't cut off again.
Sharon's face gave her away. Brenda could read the older woman like a book, and knew that Sharon was keeping something from her. She knew if she pressed Sharon enough, she would get the truth. She could see Sharon didn't really want to do this.
"I can't do this right now," Sharon said. She crossed over to the dresser, grabbed her black blazer, and threw it on. "I have to go. Please, don't try and contact me. When I think it's safe, I will contact you."
"I love you, Sharon. Please, don't do this," Brenda pleaded. She couldn't help but feel this was more of a break up then just a break. She reached out for Sharon's arm, but Sharon pulled back instantly.
"No!" She exclaimed. She rushed past Brenda, grabbed her purse, then rushed out the door.
Brenda sat naked on the bed filled with nothing but pain and confusion. There was no way that Sharon had done that based souly on the fact of Rusty. She could have lost Rusty at any point and time because of what they were doing, but she still took the risk. Something happened between the time they had talked on the phone last night, and their encounter this evening, something that had hurt Sharon and forced her into this decision. Brenda was bound and determined to find out what that was.
*.*.*.*
Sharon sat in her car for several minutes wondering what her next move would be. It was to early to go home, she had told Rusty the night before that her and Brenda had arranged a date and he would ask to many questions if she went home now. She started her car and began heading to the precinct in hopes that no one would still be there.
As she walked to into the Murder Room she saw a light coming from Lt Flynn's desk. She adjusted her bag on her arm, and hurried her step in hopes of getting to her office before he could stop her. A plan which failed miserably.
"Captain?" He called out, earning a defeated sigh from Sharon. She turned around to face him.
"Yes, Lt. Flynn?" she asked. She cleared her throat, realizing it was still watery.
"I thought you went home?" He walked up, getting closer to her.
"I forgot my wallet in my office," she lied. She shifted the bag on her shoulder, and placed the weight of her body on her right leg.
"Are you okay? You look like you've been crying," he pointed out as she was now directly in front of her. Even in the dim lights he could see it.
"I'm fine," she lied. This time she unable to cover the lie as her voice cracked. She tried pushing past him, but he grabbed her arm turning him back to her. She tried to yank her arm out, but his hand tightened.
"You're not fine," he insisted. He stepped closer to her. "You're crying?" He pointed out, wiping a tear off her eye. She pulled back; she'd enough of touching today. Way too much for her liking. He let go over her arm.
"I had a hard day," she told him, not wanting to go into more details than that. She hated that he saw she was crying. She knew she hadn't cried until Brenda had broken down almost every wall Sharon had built, but even as a child she hated crying in front of people. This was no different. If she was to cry, it would be alone, where no one could see how broken she was.
He nodded slightly. "I am here if you need to talk," he replied without hesitation.
She nodded awkwardly, and headed into her office quickly. She didn't need to talk, she needed to cry. She needed to be alone and detached from the world. She walked shut the blinds to the office after noticing Andy was still looking in on her. She moved over to her desk and let out a shaky breath. She tilted her head, holding back the waterfall that she could feel building.
"I just need to get my mind off this," she whispered lowly to herself. She couldn't break down here, not at the risk of Flynn walking in and seeing her in such a state of disarray. She reached down into her desk and pulled out the file of the report she hadn't finished.
She began filling it out without leaving a blank spot, or line. She had a belief that if you didn't run out of room on your sheet, you were missing something. And that something you missed could cost you the whole case. Plus, it was great to go back and review later before the trail. The more detailed the easier it was to prosecute.
She sighed slightly. She needed to talk to the witness, but she underwent surgery to remove the bullet and the doctors wouldn't let anyone speak to her until the next morning. She hoped that the witness would actually give them something to lead on. The man left no DNA at either crimes scenes and CSU was still looking for any at the Escort house. She needed a faster lead than DNA or prints that could take two days to be found and come back.
After another hour or two passed, she had finished a large majority of the report, and filed it back into her desk. She pulled her hair up into a sloppy ponytail, something she rarely ever did. Her hand hurt from the extensive writing, and she rubbed it gently in hopes to relieve some pressure. She looked at her clock, it was almost one am. Andy had surely left by now.
Tiredly, she made her way back down to her car. Her body had grown use to New York time, and was still getting used to being Los Angeles time. The drive home was silent and quick. Her condo was just as silent when she entered it.
Careful not to wake Rusty, she checked on him before retiring to her room. She normally washed her face, and changed out of her work clothes, carefully putting them in the dirty clothes hamper, and changed into her pajamas, but tonight was not one of those nights. She carelessly stripped her work attire onto the ground beside her bed.
She lay down on her cool bed, not caring she wasn't under the covers. Her arm extended out in search of the pillow on the opposite side of the bed, and, once grabbing it, brought it into her chest. She buried her face into it, letting the tears finally flow.
When the morning came, she found herself dreading the day to come. She just wanted to lie in bed all day without any interruptions. She hadn't even fallen asleep yet, but knew she didn't have a choice but to get up. She pulled herself out of the bed, seeing that her pillow was covered in makeup that had run off her face. She couldn't even imagine what she looked like. She pulled her bath robe over herself and head to the bathroom.
Refusing to look into her bathroom mirror, she turned on the hot water to her shower. She stepped in, knowing the water would burn her skin and that was what she wanted. Her mind raced as she leaned against the white tiles as the hot water hit her face and body.
Going in today would be a chore. She would have to talk to Agent Howard, a task she didn't want at all. She hoped Brenda was happy. She could have her alcoholic husband. She didn't care anymore.
She scoffed, knowing she had clearly just lied to herself. Of course she cared, she cared to much in fact. The thought of Brenda with him made her skin crawl. Him touching her, taking her, it made her sick. It wasn't something she could brush off. Brenda had promised her they had stopped, but they hadn't.
She knew Fritz was cheating on Brenda too. If he had been so easily wheeling to put his job on the line by coming onto Sharon, he sure as hell was doing it other places. She wondered for a few moments on why he had come on to her. He had been so well at hiding his drinking, and once it was outed he felt the need? She didn't understand, unless he had thought of it before. She also understood why he had changed so much from the man she thought she knew, why he hurt Brenda and was scared of doing so again. Addiction always won in the end. Sharon knew Fritz wouldn't have trouble getting sex if he wanted, he was a physically attractive man. She wondered if Brenda knew he was cheating on her; though that was doubtful.
She wanted nothing more to go up to Brenda and apologize, say she didn't mean it, but she couldn't. She couldn't forgive Brenda for that. She needed a break to try to forgive her. She also needed to think of how to tell Brenda that she knew Fritz was an alcoholic, and that he had sexually harassed her. Because even though Sharon was absolutely heart broken, she couldn't hurt Brenda like that. She knew that it would just be a break because she couldn't give up on Brenda. She could never let go of her, not completely. Brenda was her addiction.
She quickly washed herself after noticing her skin had turned bright red, and pulled herself out of the shower. She wrapped herself in the bath robe, and moved back to her bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed; the bed where so many times her and Brenda had made love. It killed Sharon because her sheets still smelt like Brenda. Her smell was another reason she wanted she wanted to crawl back into them. Just her sent was enough for Sharon to lose herself, to pretend nothing had happened.
She heard the alarm across the hall go off; assuring her Rusty would be up soon. She wondered how long it would take for him to realize she was still here, and not on her normal morning run. It'd be pointless to try and avoid him, because he was bound to question it regardless. But she could at least get ready for the day before then.
She didn't bother with her normal heavy makeup, and she pulled all her hair into the bun she only did when she wore her police uniform. It was either put her hair up now, or have to deal with it all day, and she didn't feel like messing with It during the course of this surely long day.
She walked out of her room, in a pair of black slakes and a nice blouse that wouldn't bother her. Her flats were by the front door, meaning she wouldn't put them on till last minute. She hated wearing them to work, always have feeling heels gave her a sterner look with still being femine at the same time. But she didn't want to take the chance of them possibly hurting her today, and with her luck if she did wear them they would end up killing her by the end of the day.
She walked over to the coffee machine, turning on that delicious liquid. She opened the fridge, and let out a small groan. All the contents inside of it needed to be made, a task she wasn't up to. She shut the fridge door, almost slammed it shut, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl she had placed on the bar. She then rinsed it thoroughly, and grabbed the jar of peanut butter from the cabinet. She grabbed a plate and steak knife, and sat at the table.
Peanut butter always comforted her, and found she ate more of it when life seemed to take a sour turn on her. Without any care or precaution, she cut the first wedge of the apple out.
She heard Rusty's door open, and his footsteps coming down the hall. She carelessly used the apple to scoop the peanut butter from its container.
"You don't seem like the kind of person to eat peanut butter directly from the jar," Rusty said. He moved over to the kitchen and began making his cereal.
"Well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me," she snapped back almost coldly, but defiantly bitchy.
"Damn Sharon, all claws out this morning?" He asked.
She sighed. "Sorry, just tired. I didn't get any sleep."
"I know," he said, and sat down beside her. "I woke up last night when you got home and heard you crying. I kept waking up to check on you, and you still weren't asleep."
She pouted a little. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up," she apologized. She felt bad. After trying so hard not to wake him, she had.
"Don't be sorry, I was worried… It was my choice," he told her, not wanting her to feel worse. "I assume you don't want to talk about it?" He knew she wasn't one for talking.
"You assume correct."
"Do you want a hug at least?" He thought he'd offer.
She gave him a weary smile, a small tear filling her eye, and nodded. He stood, and moved over to her. She stood in front of him, and wrapped her arms around the boy, holding him tightly. She'd never given him a hug without her heels on, and hadn't notice how much shorter she was than him. Her head rested on his chest, and he patted her back slightly. It was clear he felt awkward, but he didn't move. When she pulled back she felt a tear roll down her cheek, the tear she had been trying to keep. Quickly, she wiped it away.
He gave her a small reassuring smile, knowing it wouldn't do much, and sat back down. She did the same. She cut into the next wedge of the apple.
"I have to call Cynthia today, see how the paperwork is progressing," she told him in need of a subject change.
"Still no word?"
"No, hence why I am calling. As soon as I find something out I will let you know. I promise."
Sharon made her way through the hospital to the witness's room. She had wakened, causing Sanchez to call her so she could question her. Sharon wondered if not talking to the girls first was the best call. If they had, maybe they could have saved the other two girls lives.
She reached the door, and adjusted her bag on her shoulder before entering. The girl sat in the bed with her cheap over bleached blond hair awry from sleep. She looked broken as her eyes stared out the window. Flynn and Sanchez were by the bedside, waiting for Sharon to arrive.
"Hello, I'm Captain Raydor," she said, walking to over to the woman. The girl looked over to her, her face numb. "I have some questions for you." The girl nodded slightly. Sharon sat in the seat beside the hospital bed. "Is it alright if I record this?"
"Sure," the girls voice barely cracked.
Sharon took out the tape recorder, and pressed record. "Can we start off with your name?" She asked, knowing the girl had refused to give it to the hospital. The girl shook her head. "We need it for the records, and we can get it through you telling us or other means," Sharon informed her trying to sound pleasant as possible, but knew it didn't come out the way she intended. She was hurting and aggravated and knew the tone was in her voice.
"It's Candice Rodgers," the girl gave up.
Sharon forced a small smile, knowing the girl wouldn't freely cooperate unless Sharon was nice. She couldn't blame the girl either. She couldn't imagine the things she had seen or what made her choose the life she had.
"Alright, Candice. Is there any information you can give us to help find who did this?" Sharon asked sweetly.
"I know who did this," Candice told her. Sharon lifted her eyebrow.
"You do?"
"Well, I don't know his name, but he's a regular," she clarified.
"You don't have any records of your clients?" Sanchez wondered.
Candice shook her head. "No, they were all on sugar paper."
Sharon sighed, knowing that meant they were all dissolved in water the minute they had stepped into the building. She really needed a name, and kept coming up without one.
"What did he look like?"
Candice shrugged. "Normal, but he always gave off a creepy feeling. He had light brown hair, dark eyes, pale, tallish."
"Do you know how old he was?"
"Uh," she thought. "I never really thought about it, but on the younger side. I know he worked for the government or something related to it, but I don't remember where. I think it was for a prison nearby. After so long all of their stories get blurred."
"That's alright," Sharon said. She hoped it was a prison nearby because the nearest was the California State Prison. "Is there anything else? Maybe a reason why he would have out lashed on you girls?"
Candice eyes watered up. "He wanted Bree, but she wasn't there."
"So he killed two women?" Sharon thought out loud.
"Bree was his type. He didn't have a type until about a year and a half ago, but he fell in love with a woman he couldn't have. He obsessed with her."
"You don't know her name?" She hoped. Candice shook her head no.
"I know she looked like Bree… He liked older women, dark hair, white …." Sharon shifted slightly, not knowing if this information was good, or if it creeped her out. "I know he was hired to watch the woman for someone he called "The Boss" and "The Boss" wanted her, but he wanted her for himself… Which is why I guess he pretended Bree was her."
"Do you know where Bree is?" Sharon asked, now worried for the woman's safety. Candice shook her head again. "Do you know Bree's full name?"
"Breanna Edman," Candice said. "Do you think she's okay?" She asked now worried.
"I don't know. Lt. Flynn, could you have someone do a safety check on her?" She asked. Andy nodded, and walked out of the room.
"He goes to a bar every Saturday night with his co-workers in Burbank somewhere. I think it's called something like Nightfall, or something related to it."
Sharon nodded, knowing that'd at least help. Tonight was the night he would be there, and if Sharon was his type, she'd play to that advantage.
She then asked Candice how the events at the happened that led up to the shooting, and listened carefully as she explained. Nothing else came from the story than what Candice had already explained, except how the man had escaped. He had escaped through a hidden hatch the house had offered in case of a police appearance. Which only meant it was more area for CSU to search for evidence.
A/N: Well that was supposed to be shorter than the last chapter, but that didn't happen. Can you tell I got a little tired at the last paragraph. Yea, sorry about that. And sorry if I repeated myself. I think I did a few times in this chapters. But I hope you enjoyed.