Thanks for all the reviews! They make my day. And I decided to make it A/O romance! Well, in later chapters. Something to look forward to.
I watch Alex's ashen skin go even paler and she's suddenly wide awake. If I didn't know better, I would have thought the expression the ice queen is wearing on her face was fear. But Alex Cabot doesn't get scared. At least, not of cases. She's used to them. "How?" she whispers, and again, if I didn't know better I would have thought the slight tremor in her voice signaled something more than exhaustion from a long day.
"She was murdered," I tell her, wishing I could just sink into the ground. The expression in those bottomless blue eyes is pure sadness, and something else I can't put my finger on, because I've never seen it on her face before.
But she replaces her mask just as easily as it's slipped, clearly not wanting to be seen as vulnerable for more than a few seconds at a time. In a clear, emotionless voice, she asks, "Was she abused?"
For a second, I wonder how she guessed, or if she even did. Deciding not to focus on it and instead worry about the issue at hand, I only hesitate a moment before replying, "Yes."
"Sexually?"
I wonder how she can be so cool about it. This is her sister, after all, even if the two never met. If I had a sister out there somewhere that I didn't know about, I'd feel horrible if she's died. "Yes."
"Physically?"
I nod again.
She sighs. "Who?"
"We don't know." I pause for a moment. "Do you?"
Something flashes in her eyes and she stands up rather abruptly. "I should go, Liv. It's two in the morning. Thank you for telling me." She grabs her coat and starts to hurry out of her office, then on an afterthought turns back. "Does Jenna know?"
"We told her earlier."
"Did she know about – Claire?"
I shake my head. "She wasn't in touch with your father either." Then I feel a bit sheepish. Why am I telling Alex? She obviously knows already, better than I do.
"I'll call her," she says, more to herself than to me. "I'll see you later, Liv."
And she rushes out of her office, leaving me staring after her, wondering what just transpired. I don't like to think about her this way, but it's crystal clear that Alex Cabot is hiding something from me. The only question is why.
Elliot arrives five minutes late to the precinct the next morning and I'm ready to bite his head off. Sleep deprivation leaves me very testy, but I couldn't manage to fall asleep last night. Instead, I lay awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering about Alex. "You're late," I snap at him, running a hand through my hair.
"Whoa," he says, handing me a cup of coffee. "I forgot how grumpy you are before your morning caffeine."
I snatch the cup from his hand and take a sip. "It's cold."
"And you're just a real ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?" he says sarcastically.
I sigh. "Sorry, El. It's just this case . . . Alex."
"We should talk to her," he tells me. "She knows her sister best of all."
I shake my head. "She didn't even know she had a sister. She hasn't seen her father in years. He's remarried and she didn't know."
"Why?"
I shrug. "I don't know."
"Then let's go talk to her."
"Elliot, this is Alex. Our ADA. And our friend. I have a feeling she's not going to want to talk to us and I'm not going to push her."
"Then what do you suggest, brilliant one?"
Hmm, good question. I know Alex won't be too pleased about us going to talk to her sister without telling her first, but I'm willing to bear the ice queen's wrath if it will help our case. "We should go talk to her sister," I tell him. "Jenna."
"Okay," he agrees. Well, that was easy. He pulls his coat back on. "I'll drive."
"No, you won't." I climb into the driver's seat and key the ignition, just to be adversarial. "I will."
Alex's sister, who is five years her junior, is her carbon copy. Only younger. And happier. Laugh lines are evident on her face and her apartment is the polar opposite of her sister's. Alex's apartment is tastefully decorated, sophisticated and chic without being over the top, and neat as a pin. Jenna's is a mess and half-finished paintings are strewn about. Jenna is an artist – or at least, an aspiring artist who hasn't quite got on her feet yet, or so she told me the last time Alex and I met her for lunch. Alex has invited me out with her and her sister a few times, so we know each other, even though we're not close.
I knock on the door to Jenna's apartment and she answers it, giving me a sad smile when she sees me. "Hi, Olivia. Elliot." She steps aside so we can come in and I notice how pale her face is and the dark bags under her eyes. She looks like she hasn't slept in about a week.
Elliot and I sit down on her living room couch. She brushes a few magazines aside before taking a seat across from us. She folds her hands in her lap and waits expectantly.
I clear my throat, not knowing exactly how to ask this. "We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us."
She nods, looking a bit uneasy. "Okay, but I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be. I never knew Claire. I didn't even know I had another sister. I haven't spoken to – to my father in years."
I lean forward, struck by the awkwardness of this situation. Here I am, asking my colleague (and best friend's) sister about her father, when really, I should be asking Alex. No, really, I shouldn't need to. I should just know already. "Why is that?"
Jenna shifts uncomfortably. "Does it matter?"
Great. Another Alex. "Well, Jenna, we think it might."
"We just didn't get along," she replies, but it's evident that she's not being entirely honest.
"Is that it?"
"Yes," she says, too quickly. "That's it."
"Did your father ever –?"
We all turn around as a door opens and a familiar voice says, "Jenna, do you have any –?"
Crap. Alex Cabot is standing in the doorway, a fluffy pink bathrobe that's clearly not hers wrapped around her, and her voice trails off when she notices Elliot and I.
"What are you doing here?" she snaps, glaring at us.
Elliot glances at me and, seeing the expression on my face, stands up and says calmly, "We were asking your sister some questions about your father."
But Alex ignores him and marches over to me. Her baby blue eyes flashing, she says coolly, clearly trying to contain her anger, "If you want to know about my father, you ask me. And if I don't want to tell you, you drop it."
I bite back the, "You're not the boss of me," that's rising in my throat. I understand why she's upset, so I try to keep my voice level as I say, "I'm sorry, Alex, but this is going to help with the investigation. I thought you should get a good night's sleep before we talked to you."
She snorts, which makes me start. I've never seen this side of Alex Cabot before. She's angry, really angry, and her ice queen façade is rapidly slipping. "I'm not a child," she says hotly, pointing to the door. "Leave."
I'm trying to be as compassionate as I can, but I just don't understand. The Alex Cabot I know would never impede an investigation! "Alex, we can talk to you now or we can talk to you tomorrow, but we are going to talk to you. We're trying to find out who killed your sister. I would have thought you'd want to find out the same thing. We're on the same side here."
"No, we're not. Get out. Out!"
I stare at her blankly. What is she doing? This is so out of character for Alex that it scares me for a moment.
Elliot's hand on my arm stops me. He shakes his head slightly and I sigh. "Fine. Jenna, call me if you think of anything, okay? You have the number. And Alex, we'll talk to you tomorrow."
"No," she says in a quiet but purposeful tone. "You won't."
I let Elliot gently lead me outside and I don't even object when he climbs into the driver's seat of the car. I'm preoccupied, wondering what on earth has got Alex so spooked.
So what is Alex scared of? What is she hiding and why? Review to find out!
