Authors Note: I decided I would attempt to write a SVU/Chicago PD crossover fic. There will be BensonxVoight and Linstead in this story, but I wanted it to be more than just a romance novel, so I've thought out about a case that would involve both the SVU team and the Intelligence unit and hopefully my many years of watching crime shows pays off because I spent a few hours writing down every little detail about the killers and the victims and the investigations that will take place. Thank-you to everyone who is here reading I hope that you enjoy this fic, I won't keep you much longer but here is the very first chapter! Let me know if you want me to continue.
Please Note: I do not own the characters in this story, but I do own the storyline, anyone who steals portions or the entirety of this fic will be reported. Thank-you for understanding.
February 2008
Miranda Johnson had just finished up work, it had been a hard day in her legal office with having one of the partners retire, the entire firm was adjusting to the changes and as you'd expect, it was hectic.
If you had told Miranda what the date was she would have been shocked, how was it February already, just five minutes ago she would have sworn that it was still November when she'd explored Paris with her new beau, Frankie.
February 11th it was and usually she would have been planning a romantic Valentine's Day with her husband John, but somehow she doubted that would be happening this time round, considering he'd walked in on her and Frankie in a compromising position in early December.
But she had a solution, no self respecting woman would ever spend Valentines Day alone, which was why she'd signed up to a site that held a special Valentine's Day discount to every member who joined and agreed to be matched before the big day. She was excited, she had never been on a blind date before and this was all new and liberating for her.
She'd already splurged on a new dress, a slinky black number that always drove her ex husband crazy, but this dress was worth more than his car and that made her surprisingly ecstatic. She was just so determined to have fun on her date since her husband decided that they couldn't work through their issues and left her right before Christmas, without that tennis bracelet he'd hidden in his sock drawer, she had been furious.
That was all in the past now because she was determined that this man, Scott99 was going to be her new lover for months to come. Nothing better than the touch of another man to get over a bad break up, that was her philosophy.
With her lips ruby red, and her cleavage ready to rock and roll. Miranda left her apartment with a spring in her step. She'd made sure to leave out her best scented candles, and a brand new bottle of champagne was waiting in the kitchen if the day went well.
The elevator was full of teenagers, a Valentine's Day party was being held on one of the other floors, and she wasn't impressed. What could teenagers possibly know about love? She kept to herself the entire way down, and was happy to finally depart from the noise of pubescent adolescence.
Her dinner plans included one of Chicago's finest restaurants, a place she had been many times. She knew the menu's like the back of her hand and the staff knew her wine preferences better than her own husband had.
It was her comfort zone, which was why she had chosen it. If Scott99 looked half as good as his profile picture she knew she was going to have the night of her life and then some.
The walk between her car and the restaurant entrance was almost half a block, she disappeared into the shadows every few metres, not exactly the entrance she would have planned for herself, she much preferred it when she had an audience to admire her perfect physique, to stare in awe after the way her new dress hugged her body and made her look like a dream. She wasn't vain, not really. She just appreciated adoration.
She could see the lights shining, and hear the hum of happy customers only a few metres away, but she never made it to that restaurant, and Scott99 didn't look like his picture at all.
Frankie Johnson was in the middle of watching The Voice when a knock at his door interrupted, he wiped his Cheeto stained fingers down the sides of his sweat pants and rushed over to the front door of his down town apartment.
There was nobody standing in his entryway, only a packaged wrapped in newspaper sat on his doormat.
He reached down to pick up his personal delivery, wondering who would have sent him anything. There were only a few people who knew of his new address, none of which would have hand delivered anything, especially without popping in to visit at the same time.
He closed his front door behind him and say back down on his sofa, he should have noticed the spots of newspaper that were damp but he didn't. Not until he unwrapped the gift and dropped it flat on the floor.
A human heart rolled across the floor, and he screamed out like a little girl.
His apartment was soon swarming with police, including one very scary detective, who handed him a card that read Detective Hank Voight.
February 2015
Olivia Benson was having a rough day, she'd stayed up half the night as Noah had come down with a nasty head cold, and if she was honest she thought she was coming down with one too. But in her line of work, a sick day is no option unless of course you're dying. But even then Olivia Benson would probably still try and show up.
It was Amanda who greeted her at the door with the news, a victim had turned up dead, and it was yet to be determined if her death was a result of an angry rapist or if the killing was the MO in the first place.
"What did the coroner say?" Was the first question that escaped from her lips, the two woman were still walking in the direction of Liv's office.
"They're still examining, but there's more." Amanda told her, reaching into her pocket to find her mobile phone. She scrolled through her apps, and stopped on her photos. "The victim was missing her heart. Everything else was in tact, no other organs or limbs were missing, just the heart cut straight out of her chest."
"And she was raped?" Olivia asked, sitting down on the corner of her desk, holding onto Amanda's phone and scrolling through the pictures.
"Her dress was ripped straight off her body, her underwear was half way down her legs..."
"So we're still in the assumption stage."
She nodded, "But in my experience, a victim like this wouldn't have their underwear tampered with if for no reason."
Olivia nodded grimly; she couldn't stop thinking about that poor girl.
"Let me know when they've ID'd her."
"Will do."
Olivia had just settled into her desk chair when a knock on her door interrupted. She looked up, it was Amanda again. "The lab results are in, she was raped."
Olivia nodded, "Do we have an ID?" She asked, knowing that this case was going to be a tough one already.
"We do." She confirmed.
"Rebecca Samuel's, 23 year old preschool teacher." Olivia announced to the team, she had stuck a photograph of the young woman, a blonde with a sweet innocent smile, "What did you do to deserve this?" She thought to herself as she looked at the photo.
Amanda took over the explanation since she knew the most about the case so far. "She was found beside a dumpster behind a restaurant, her clothes torn, and her underwear pulled down past her knees. All limbs and organs in tack except for her heart which was removed and couldn't be found anywhere."
"What's the symbolism with removing the heart?" Nick asked, trying to piece it all together.
Amanda nodded, acknowledging the great question. "We're thinking it has something to do with Valentine's Day next week."
"Why her? Why now. Valentine's Day isn't for another week." Fin pointed out, examining the sick photography in front of him.
"That's what we need to figure out, before more women are attacked."
"I want to find out who Rebecca Samuel's really was. The more we know about her, the more we'll know about what kind of people want to hurt her."
Jumping Beans preschool was flooded with mothers and children, it was the morning drop off and Amanda was having trouble thinking straight as she tried to go past all the noisy mother-child combinations in the hallways, Nick was following swiftly behind her, following her every footstep.
"Excuse me, do you know where I can find the director of this school?" Amanda asked one of the mothers, flashing her badge quickly.
"Is everything alright?" The woman asked with a flash of concern across her face.
"We just need to ask her some questions about a friend of hers." Amanda told her, it wasn't a complete lie. The last thing they needed was a panic to erupt throughout the hallways. That would be a complete disaster.
"She should be in her office, it's the last room at the end of the corridor." The woman told her, before turning back to her little girl, she was zipping up her backpack and telling her daughter to line up ready for Miss Rebecca to arrive.
Nick and Amanda shared a saddened look between them. They both knew the kids would be waiting a while for Miss Rebecca to arrive considering the circumstances.
The hallway was long, and kids lined up beside every classroom, all louder than the last classroom they'd passed. By the time they arrived to the last door, most of the classes had already been ushered inside their rooms, all except one lonely class, Miss Rebecca's.
Amanda announced herself before walking into the office, Tricia Bentley was stressing out. As far as she knew, one of her best teacher's had forgotten to call in sick and she was in need of finding a replacement for the day. Nobody wanted to come in after such short notice, even after she offered to pay them extra. She was about to lose it completely.
"Ms Bentley? I'm detective Rollins and this is Detective Amaro, we're here to talk to you about Rebecca Samuels, she worked here didn't she?" Amanda asked, walking into the small office space.
"Rebecca? She totally flaked, she's never taken a sick day in all the years she's worked here. I'm swamped trying to find a relief teacher." She rambled on, without the realisation that something had happened to her employee.
Amanda took out her phone and scrolled through the photographs, she found one that solely contained a picture of Rebecca's face. "Could you tell me if this is Rebecca Samuels who works here?"
Tricia's eyes widened, a look of pure distraught shadowed over her. "What happened to her?" She asked, as tears started to well in her eyes. "Detectives? Oh hell, she's dead isn't she? Oh my God, I can't believe this!" She started sobbing, "I just saw her yesterday! She was fine, excited about some date she was going on last night."
Nick handed her a tissue before singling in on the last thing Tricia had said, "Who was she going on a date with, maybe he knows what happened to her."
"She didn't say!" Tricia cried, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue, "All she told me was that she met him on some kind of dating website, she even showed me a photograph. He had blue eyes and blond hair, just up to his ears. I think his name was Tommy or his screen name was Tommy88." She was blabbering on, but everything she said was helpful in its own way.
Amanda opened her notes on her phone, "What did you say this website was called?" She asked her thumb ready to type out the address.
"I can't remember, but I think Rebecca wrote it down somewhere." She recalled and started rummaging around in her top desk drawer.
After she'd scrounged around for a few minutes, a small post it note was finally found all the way at the bottom, stuck to a stapler. "Here, ." She read as she handed Amanda the note.
"Thank-you, If we have any questions we'll be in touch." Amanda smiled, heading towards the door. Tricia was still torn up about Rebecca, she'd been her best teacher, and a close friend for years.
Nick turned to her and patted her shoulder, "Sorry for your loss, we'll get the guy who did this."
Tricia nodded, her eyes welling up with tears again.
February 2008
Hank Voight sat opposite Frankie Johnson. He was convinced the sad son of a bitch had killed his ex wife, but he had no proof other than the bitter divorce that had gone down only a week earlier.
"So you're telling me that your ex wife cleaned you out, and you didn't even feel for a second that you wanted revenge?" He asked in a menacing tone.
Frankie was shaking, this man scared the hell out of him. "I didn't kill Miranda! I love her!" He cried out.
"But she slept with other men, and you caught her with one of them. That's why you divorced isn't it?"
"Yes, but!" Frankie defended himself. "I would never hurt Miranda, she was my everything."
"That's not what your blog says." Voight reminded him, pushing a print out of Frankie's posts.
Voight decided he'd read out a few lines just to make Frankie sweat a little.
"I can't believe that bitch has been sleeping around our entire marriage, I hope she rots in hell." He paused and looked directly into Frankie's fearful eyes. "I hope someone rips her heart out just like she ripped out mine."
He thought for sure that he'd nailed him there, he'd practically admitted that he wanted Miranda's heart ripped out.
"I was upset!"Frankie was now in tears, he obviously had just realised that this evidence could put him away for life, but Voight didn't share with him a piece of evidence that could throw this whole case away.
The semen found inside Miranda wasn't a match for Frankie's DNA. Voight didn't know how he was going to get around that fact, but he had plenty of ideas up his sleeve. One of which avoids having a trial at all.
"I had arguments with my wife, but I never wished someone would cause her harm." Hank told him, causing Frankie again to shake violently.
"I'm done with you for now, but next time I see you and we don't have any other suspects, you'd better ask God for forgiveness because you'll be meeting with the devil." He threatened, leaving the interrogation room with a slam of the door.
February 2015
Nick sat at his desk, open on his computer screen. Amanda came up behind him, placing her hands on the back of his chair as he scrolled through accounts. "I didn't know you were looking for your perfect match." She teased him, he looked up at her knowing she was only trying to lighten the mood.
"I found Rebecca's account, she had a few matches. None of which have had less than 10 matches themselves." He explained, scrolling through Rebecca's matches.
"I found our mysterious Tommy88, it says here that he only joined yesterday. I ran his face through facial recognition and there is no record of him in our system."
"So he's clean?" She asked, wondering why a guy with no history of crime would commit such a horrific act.
"It appears so." Nick sighed, scrolling through some of Rebecca's other matches.
She stopped him, "Click on his profile, I want to see if he has any other photos." Nick clicked on Tommy's name and the website redirected him to Tommy's profile. He started clicking through the photos, there were only seven pictures, but they were all perfect looking. "I guess this really is perfect match."
Amanda frowned, "Why would mister perfect be looking for love on a website, you'd think he'd have women throwing themselves at him."
Nick looked offended, "He's not that perfect, his abs are clearly photoshopped." He scoffed.
Amanda's face lit up like she'd just hit the jackpot. "Go onto google, I think I know how to find mister perfect." She instructed him, before going on to telling him what to type.
"I knew I'd seen him before." She exclaimed when the latest catalogue for Armani showed up on images. Nick clicked on the photos and his eyes lit up. "This is our guy, how'd you know?"
She shook her head, "This isn't our guy. Tommy88 catfished Rebecca, she went out thinking she was meeting with Mister perfect, only to be attacked by mister imperfect instead."
"So we have no leads?" He asked sadly. She nodded.
"We could try and find out who runs this website, see if they can help us track down where this account was made."
"I'll see if I can find a contact." He told her, and started searching the website thoroughly.
Olivia walked past the pair of them on the way to her office, Amanda followed her eagerly. "I was looking for cases online that involved removal of the heart and there have been a string of these cases right across the country, starting in Chicago seven years ago."
Olivia turned around, "Chicago." She repeated, walking into her office and sitting down at her desk once again. "Thanks Rollins, I'll see what I can find out."
Amanda nodded and left her to it.
Hank was sitting in his own office all the way in Chicago when his phone suddenly started ringing.
"Hank Voight." He answered gravelly.
"Sergeant Voight, It's Olivia Benson. I have a case that you may be interested in and I could really use your help."
"I'll be there as soon as the next available flight takes off." He told her without even waiting for her to explain the case. He didn't have to know what it was about, he was happy to help.