What slithers beneath the surface? Part 3

By midday the air was uncomfortably stuffy in the squad room. It was not stuffy in the way a humid summer month would see the rooms bathed in unbearable warmth throughout the day, it was stuffy with underlying tension. Glances were shared, breaths were expelled quietly and worrying frowns ended up being the default expression. Everyone seemed to be waiting for someone else to get a breakthrough.

Emma Rios occupied the break room, surrounded by ten used coffee beakers and the stale smell of lukewarm coffee. The younger woman was tapping furiously on her laptop and she would look up with a drilling gaze that made it hard to linger in the room. Emma had twenty questions she needed answers to and even if Sharon wanted to find the answers for both the lawyer and herself, there was little headway to announce at present.

Sharon heaved a sigh and looked at her phone for the umpteenth time. No calls. She refrained from calling Rusty a third time in the span of a half hour. He had been perfectly fine two minutes ago when she had called the second time, his voice gruff with sleep and the noise of the television turned on in the background.

Out in the murder room half her team had discarded their jackets and rolled up their sleeves.

If there was a definite link to Philip Stroh in Linda Rothman's murder, then the division would be investigating two serial killers. Sharon felt a tad winded at the notion. Her fingers itched to grab the phone and call Brenda Leigh Johnson; surely the former chief would have a thing or two to say about the matter. Input was appreciated at this point, and once again, Sharon felt like getting input from Brenda on Stroh, she was not one to sit on her hands while Stroh roamed free, of that Sharon was positive.

Through her windows, Sharon watched Andy pacing as he spoke to Julio, his suit jacket was neatly folded over his chair. Andy turned around in his pacing and his gaze landed on her, the look turning questioning.

Sharon gave him a small smile and shrugged slightly; she had been staring off into space.

She should be working on the master search on their victim, Daniel Wilton. Instead she felt introspective and tense. Tense on account of Stroh, the murder of Rothman and the new threat to DDA Rios. Introspective on account of the man who just happened to smile back at her through the window; his smile was warm and comforting. His earlier words warmed as well, 'Focus on Daniel Wilton – and let Provenza handle Stroh. If it's even Stroh who's behind it all, I mean, maybe it's one of his former partners. We don't know.'

She let out a small breath. Andy was right, it was better to focus on the case at hand.

After a quarter of an hour with her staring blankly at her computer screen, Mike knocked on her door and entered, "Captain, I think I found Troy Desmond, our possible sixth victim."

Daniel Wilton had been accused of rape a half year ago along with a class mate of his; Troy Desmond. The accusation never made it to court and smelled of a cover up; the sheriff's deputy's son allegedly involved in rape, the girl going away, the families kept quiet, and nothing came of the accusations. And now Wilton was dead, and the other boy, Troy, was missing and his parents had not seen him since last Wednesday. It was beyond merely suspicious.

Mike had performed a triangulation on Troy Desmond's phone and the last signal showed him somewhere in the vicinity of Topanga State Park, north of the city.

Sharon sent out patrol and the cadaver dogs first, and within the hour, Major Crimes rolled out again. The crime scene was hidden behind a ridge in tough terrain, just beyond a dirt road. It required a short hike and was not at all a walk in the park with the midday sun beating down unforgivingly.

After just ten minutes hiking, Sharon's suit clung to her skin and she regretted wearing a trench coat; it was much too warm. The chill that had permeated in the morning was well gone, and gave way to an oppressing heat.

They hiked in a moderate tempo to the remote location of the second victim of the day, or the third victim if Sharon counted Linda Rothman. Mike Tao was back at the main entrance point, taking a statement from one of the rangers. Patrol was dispersed throughout; some were cordoning off the main entrance, others were at the crime scene cordoning off that area, and others still sifted through the park looking for clues and whatnot.

The trail was narrow with high wilted grass on both sides, and Sharon was thankful she had opted for more sensible shoes; no high heels, but warm, appropriate boots.

Andy was two steps in front of her, every now and then grunting something sarcastic about hiking and the sun. She smiled at him and nodded when the comment was meant to be humorous.

It was not that he wasn't funny. The man was funny. It was just… Her mood, she reflected. She was too transfixed by following his footsteps, the back of his legs and the firm muscle beneath the cloth, the outline of his behind and broad back drawing her gaze. It made her unable to appreciate the humorous comments.

This was not the first time she admired his body, but it was escalating somewhat. Her blood ran hot at the thought of the few, chaste kisses they had shared and her skin tingled at just the thought of going further. The sun was getting to her, she reckoned.

Having dinner with the man, almost weekly, created an air of intimacy. It opened a certain vulnerability in her. She had not been this close to a man in some time – years to be honest – and then it had been Gavin. With Gavin there was none of whatever it was she was tumbling with now. With Gavin she did not analyze her behavior or her thoughts like she did with Andy. The spectrum of friendship between Andy and her complicated things further, and she had not even begun to think of the consequences professionally. That was a whole different hurdle.

"You alright back there, Sharon?" Andy asked her. She got a little startled having been deep in her own thoughts. He had stopped and turned around, waiting for her by a large boulder.

Sharon tried a smile, "Just parched and too hot."

"Yeah, you and me both," he replied back, his smile soft. "I think patrol's got some water bottles, and, more importantly, shade at the crime scene."

Sharon nodded and followed him as he started walking up the dry dirt trail again, her eyes on the path and every now and then, she snuck a glance at him.

"So, what do you think?" Andy started conversationally when the trail started going downhill, "I mean, about Stroh only sending Rios a rose? You think he's targeting her next? Provenza said Rothman had received the same roses and a note." Andy gave her a sideways glance; he was trying to gauge her mood.

The roses and the notes had hung heavy between them all for close to a month now. It was not an everyday occurrence when several colleagues received the same threat, and between Rios getting a new threat and Rothman getting murdered, it only stirred up that lingering fear. Rothman was murdered after receiving roses and a note. It was nerve-wrecking to say the least.

"I'm not sure," Sharon heaved a sigh, "we don't know if Rothman received one or more threats before she was murdered, so, what's the pattern? We cannot say."

Stroh was a very likely candidate to be sending poetic death threats to those who had annoyed him during his incarceration, especially after his encounter with Rusty in the interrogation room. However, it was one thing to threaten those who went after him, but for him to murder Rothman? That meant either he was planning something bigger, or the lawyer had known something she shouldn't have.

Sharon had tried to get a hold of Brenda Leigh Johnson after they had found out the prints on the roses belonged to Philip Stroh. The woman did not return her calls, however, and whenever Sharon broached the subject of his wife, Deputy Chief Howard Fritz closed off. Sharon would have liked to know if Brenda had received a rose as well, or if she was trying to locate Stroh's whereabouts under the radar.

"You haven't gotten another rose and kept it secret have you?" Andy asked, this time glancing at her with a sheepish, concerned expression.

Sharon raised an eyebrow back at him, almost telling him the question was redundant. She was tempted to ask if that was the reason for his self-imposed acts as a body guard. Her lieutenant had been on her heel the last month, closely following her motions and being all too aware of their surroundings. With any other man it would have felt condescending. However Andy made it feel comforting as Sharon knew it was only out of good intentions. The whole team was on their toes, waiting. It was an underlying simmering tension; what would happen and to whom? The same low-voltage tension had permeated the air when Rusty had been on the receiving end of threatening letters from Weller.

Andy relented with a shrug and a broad smile, "Stupid question, yeah, sorry. Forgot who I was asking," he chuckled good-naturedly.

Sharon pursed her mouth, amused.

"Christ," Andy cursed, "This crime scene is in the middle of nowhere, it's what, half an hour yet to hike?"

Sharon drew a breath and stopped up next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. In front of them, the view was of the park, not another human in sight.

"Well, this qualifies as my Sunday work out," she smiled at Andy.

"Oh yeah," he agreed with a grin and then added jokingly with a look at the map in his hands, "hopefully we're going in the right direction."

She glared at him and he only chuckled disarmingly, and started walking again. She shook her head and followed. The trail became broader and it was possible to walk side by side.

After a moment of silence with the only noise the chirping of insects and Andy's low breaths next to her, Sharon broken the silence, "A part of me wishes Stroh would simply disappear, without a fuss."

She gave Andy a look, her smile guilty, "Selfish of me, but oh, wouldn't that be something; not to worry about him, or Rusty, or any of it?"

Andy nodded, "Personally, I will feel a whole lot better when the dirt bag's under lock and key - or better yet, buried 6 feet under."

Sharon pursed her lips, silently agreeing.

"I mean, I think we have enough on our plate dealing with one psycho at a time. Two psychos - I feel I need a raise in my paycheck," Andy said the last with a chuckle.

Sharon shook her head and said jokingly stern, "We are not discussing paychecks."

"Alright, Ma'am."

Sharon snorted and Andy gave her a pointed look, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Did you just snort at me?"

"No…"

"You've got the worst poker face."

Sharon compressed her lips into a firm line, trying not to break out in laughter. This was another reason she treasured their friendship; Andy had the ability to make her laugh.

Twenty minutes later they finally reached the crime scene.

…