In it together

Chapter 11

Later as Mike and Connie were driving back to the office, Mike thought about the words Edison Brantley had said about Connie being 'a keeper'. It somehow brought a slight lift in his heart, even though the two of them as a couple would never be.

From the passenger side, Connie spoke, "By the way, Mike, what were the great Edison Brantley's parting words to you?"

"What?" Mike made a right hand turn, wondering how to respond. But he wasn't fooling Connie.

"I think you've heard what I asked, " Connie stated.

Mike had to think fast.

"He was telling me the difference between women and men," Mike sounded casual, "For example, women would think introspectively: Am I happy? Am I emotionally fulfilled? whereas men will think outrospectively: How's my car? Did my team win?"

It was obvious Mike was fighting a grin.

"Oh really,' Connie's tone was sarcastic, as she hid her smile, "Edison Brantley managed to say all of that in the half-second he took to whisper in your ear?"

Mike's response was immediate, "He talks much faster when he whispers."

Connie lifted an eyebrow.

"You know what's worse than a liar, Mike?" she asked him.

"No," he asked curiously,"What's worse than a liar?"

"A lousy liar."

And despite himself, Mike squeezed out a smile.

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Mike and Connie were still all smiles when they returned to his office.

Until they saw Detective Cyrus Lupo waiting in Mike's office, that is. They both learned long ago that when a detective is wasting his time waiting for the EADA to return to his office, it was never a good sign.

"Hey, " Lupo greeted them.

"I assume you're here about some new development in the Brantley case?" Mike asked, as he hung his jacket. The three of them then took their seats.

"Yeah," Lupo said, "in fact, your case has suddenly started moving very fast."

Mike and Connie exchanged glances, not sure if that was a good thing.

"What do you mean by moving fast, Cyrus?" Connie asked, "What's going on?"

"The police just secured an order for the exhumation of Larry Carson's corpse," Lupo explained.

"So quickly?" Mike looked incredulous, not sure how he felt about this latest development.

"Yeah," Cyrus acknowledged, "Apparently Bernard and I found a witness who heard a shot at the Starlite Motel on that night of the nineteenth. After informing McCoy and the defense team, the coroner's office was ordered to dig up the body. Turns out the original person assigned to do the autopsy did a sloppy examination of the body, due to what he claimed was because he had been overworked and overwhelmed at that time."

"So this time Rodgers has been assigned this case?" Connie asked.

"Right again," Cyrus stated, "and when she opened the smashed skull, she discovered it wasn't a hit-and-run accident after all."

"And what did she find?" Connie asked.

"The man had been killed," Cyrus blurted out, "by a small .22 caliber gun."

"So Larry Carson had actually been shot and run over all in the same night?" Mike looked shocked, "I guess it wasn't his night."

"To say the least," Cyrus commented, "In fact, the bullet hole had been concealed beneath the hair and that's how the first coroner originally missed it the first time. So I think the theory of 'the drifter who happened to get in front of a car being driven by a rich, intoxicated driver' just went out the window."

"We've actually stopped thinking that theory days ago," Connie said.

"Oh really? You already knew it was not a hit and run?" Cyrus was almost disappointed that he did not shock them with his news, "So then, what kind of case had you two been prosecuting, if not a hit-and-run?"

Mike didn't pause, "A first degree murder one."

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It wasn't too long before Lupo got a call from his partner regarding his main case so he up and left to the crime scene, closing the door behind him.

The afternoon sun burst through the window of Mike's office, the last of its rays leaving a warmth in the room. Long and thin shadows appeared out of several objects in the room. Even the noise from the traffic below seemed more relaxed.

Mike and Connie were still there, throwing around ideas about the case. It was like old times again and Mike suddenly realized how much he missed bouncing ideas off of Connie even though it was not too long ago they had been on a case.

"...It's makes viewing the photographs of the victim in a different light," Mike said, pointing to a specific one amid the many he had laid out on his desk, "Take a look at this photo here. The man's head was smashed viciously in. Now I see the reason as to why it happened that way was to hide a murder."

Connie observed another one of the photos, "Mike, look at this one..." she pointed to one particularly gruesome picture that show the angle of the head where the bullet gone through, "this part of the head was basically eviscerated, making me think that afterwards, the killer must have smashed his head with a sledgehammer or something before throwing him on the road in order to hide the bullet hole."

Mike lifted an eyebrow, "Slight overkill there, wouldn't you say?"

Connie half smiled, "Just slightly."

Just then she heard the vibration of the cellphone informing her of an incoming text. She apologized as she took the phone out, read the text and typed something back. In a few seconds she placed the phone back in her skirt pocket.

"I hope everything is fine at the homefront," Mike stated evenly.

Ever since that awkward time at the supermarket, Connie didn't feel as though she needed to hide a relationship from Mike any longer.

"Everything's fine. That was just Johnny.," she stated in a straightforward manner.

Mike looked at her with those clear blue eyes of his, "I see."

His face showed no reaction, but Connie felt the air of awkwardness had suddenly swirled about them in the room.

She cleared her throat, "So, Mike...where were we regarding the case? I've lost my train of thought."

Mike seemed relieved with the change of subject, "I have a theory on how we can approach this case, how about you?"

Connie, too, was glad to be on safe ground again, "I have several, actually."

They talked at length about the case, attacking it from every angle. The sun had begun to set, casting the room into an orange hue. After much discussion and decision making, Mike picked up the office phone and Connie watched as he dialed the number. He then put the phone on conference call.

There was the sound of a click as a female answered her phone, "Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Brantley," Mike said to Heather, as he sneaked a peek at Connie for her reaction, "This is Mike Cutter of the DA's office."

"Oh!" It was obvious she was delighted and Connie rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Yes, Mr. Cutter! So good to hear from you!"

"I'm actually calling because we had a disturbing development in Tim Brantley's case."

There was a slight pause.

"Oh?" her voice suddenly became more solemn, "And what do you mean by 'we'?" She obviously was not getting the point of why Mike called.

"Hello, Mrs. Brantley," Connie burst in, "Perhaps you remember me, Connie Rubirosa, Mr. Cutter's associate?" Connie couldn't help ending the question with a satisfied smile.

"Well...yes...of course," Heather did not sound too enthused, "and, um, Mr. Cutter, you were talking about my nephew...what is this disturbing development you have discovered?"

"It seems," Connie was the one who answered "that we are now investigating a murder."

"A murder?" the shock in her voice was clear.

"Yes, " verified Mike, "but we don't want to discuss it over the phone with you. Perhaps we could visit you first thing in the morning?"

"...the two of you?" she asked.

"Yes, and thank you for the invitation," Connie interjected, glancing up at Mike as they exchanged smiles.

They set up an appointment, Heather gave them her address and the call was completed.

"You said 'we' were to visit her tomorrow," Connie stated and almost in a teasing way, added, "You SURE you want me tagging along as the third wheel?"

Mike wanted to say, No,Heather Brantleyis the third wheel, but instead he said, "you are more than welcome to 'tag' along with me tomorrow, Connie, but only if we can split the gas expense."

Connie smiled, "Oh yes, I can do that. We'll be sure to split it 25/75, with me paying the 25."

Mike always liked how their conversations just seem to blend together seamlessly.

Pushing up his sleeve slightly, he then checked his watch, "It's getting late, Connie. Perhaps you should be going. I'm sure you've made some dinner plans already."

In truth, Connie had. She had earlier texted Johnny back and told him she would be home in half an hour, and before she knew it another hour had already passed by. She never meant to be inconsiderate, it was just too easy to get wrapped up in her work. Or at least that was what she had convinced herself. Connie really did need to get home.

But when she looked at Mike, she felt as if she would give anything to stay and be eating oily Chinese food out of cheap white boxes.

She stood, "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, Mike."

Walking down the hallway, she had an image of Mike sitting forlornly at his desk, his office soon to be surrounded by darkened rooms once again. She debated for a second before retracing her steps to the door of her office. Connie then reached in and flipped the light switch on before departing, as a reminder for Mike that he was not alone.

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