Author's Note: I am really bad at writing action scenes, but I'm working on it. Guh. Thanks to those of you who've stuck around with me.
Titration by HawkofNavarre
Chapter 13
Trouble or Nothing
"You're sure about the numbers? Alright, and it was most definitely Cascadia Drive? ...Yeah, okay. Thanks for double-checking."
Ema clicked out of the call with a sigh and closed her phone with a snap. She glanced at the nearby armchair and was sorely tempted just to sink down into its worn down cushions, but her integrity as a detective held her back.
It had taken three weeks, but Dr. Rhinke had finally been able to extract some information from the patient at the residential home. Only a few days later, they'd found out that the male nurse who had been murdered was connected to a massive drug ring. Digging deeper, it turned out the patient was in the care home under a false in identity and was the godfather of one of the biggest players in drug trafficking. Of course, when all that information came to light, this became one of the biggest cases Ema had ever had. Since then, the commissioner had been riding her ass like never before. That was why it was so significant that they get something out of this old man with dementia.
It was just her luck that they would find nothing at the address they'd obtained. Even worse, Klavier hadn't been able to pull off a warrant with the piss poor amount of evidence they had. There were connections, yes, but with nothing concrete to show for it. That meant they had done the search on consent with no reason to tear up walls or floors. There was no confirmation that there was anything in the house, but there was no confirmation there wasn't either. She was so conflicted on whether or not the memory of a disintegrating mind could even be trusted, but it was the only lead they had, and she certainly wasn't going to discredit their psychologist when he had put weeks or work into getting out a few numbers and a street name.
Sighing, she stood in front of one of the four air conditioners in the room. Ema certainly couldn't blame the owner for blasting the cool air; today was hot, even for Californian standards. Deciding she would do one final sweep of this room, she placed herself at the doorway to take in her surroundings. The room was decorated with a white patterned wallpaper on light brown. Placement looked a little worn, but stuck down appropriately, meaning the walls were pretty much out of the equation. The floors were made of hardwood, meaning it would be easy enough to take out boards and hide the product, but these ones in particular were pretty narrow. They'd have to take out quite a few in order to hide a stock.
It was worth a check, she decided as her phone started ringing. Ema pulled out her cell and pushed down on the floorboards as she took a calculated path through the room.
"Hello?"
"Ema, did you find anything?" Klavier asked urgently.
She snickered. "Oh, yeah, sure. That's why I called to inform you of all the drugs I found," the detective replied dryly.
"Ach, I get it. No need to bite," he chuckled.
"What, you don't like being bitten?" Ema shot back. It was only when there was a awkward silence from the other side that she realized her words sounded a lot like flirting. Shaking off her embarrassment, she focused on the task at hand. "Anyway, we're back to square one. There's nothing in the house that the team saw and the home owner has a squeaky clean record. I'm not sure what else we can do."
Thankfully, Klavier ignored their earlier exchange as well. "Whoever executed the nurse may have more information on where the drugs are being held. Square one means finding the killer."
It was a frustrating thought when the evidence they'd found at the scene was worthless in identifying the culprit, but just like these floorboards, it didn't hurt to heck twice. "I'm going to head back to the precinct after this and I'll go over both cases again. Maybe I'll find a loose end they didn't tie up," she told him as she stepped into the middle of the room. She'd finished testing the perimeter and things weren't looking so promising.
"Then I'll stop by to see if I can offer a second set of eyes after my meeting with Herr Edgeworth."
"Don't," she told him. "Get some rest. You have a concert in a couple days."
"As do you," Klavier replied evenly. "Need I remind you how essential having sharp security was at my last performance?"
Yes, the very same performance that had occurred last month and had blown their relationship wide open. The ensuing fight wasn't something she liked to think about and the accidental confession that followed always made her want to jump into a hole and die.
"Fair point," she answered with a sigh. She really didn't want to let this case go for the night, especially with how high profile it was, but she was going to have to hang up her lab coat for the night if she didn't figure anything out by five. Detective Spex, who had been assigned to basically partner up with her to try and clinch the big drug trafficker, would just have to deal with sorting through files by himself tonight. With what happened at the last concert, she wasn't going to walk in to her second job unprepared. "Okay, fine. I'll take an early night."
"Then I will follow your lead," the prosecutor responded cheerfully. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ema. Have a good night."
"Yeah, you too," she said before hanging up the call. She slid her cell phone away and placed her hands on her hips, letting out a long breath. Taking in the room one final time, Ema finally decided that it was time to wrap things up. She didn't want to waste any more time on a dead lead.
Feeling distinctly unfulfilled, she signaled to her subordinates that it was time to go. Well, who knew? She still had a couple hours to go before she was officially off the clock. Maybe by then, she'd figure something out.
Ema was irritated. Sleeping early was supposed to have been a good thing, yet here she was suffering over all the unproductive seconds ticking by. All she wanted to do was jump up and go back to the precinct and puzzle out where the hell they were keeping all those drugs! Alas, she had told Klavier that she would get some rest and she didn't want to be a hypocrite given that she'd been the one doling out advice in the first place. Still, that didn't do anything to calm her racing mind.
She'd gone over both murders so thoroughly that she was sure she hadn't missed anything. These people were professionals, so it was no surprise that there was a huge lack of evidence when it came to finding crime bosses' hired executioners. The guy had to know they were onto him by now, considering his mentally deteriorating godfather was in their hands. Frankly, the forensic investigator was surprised the police hadn't been targeted yet. Then again, an attack on law enforcement would make the culprit blindingly obvious through a physical evidentiary standpoint, so the man's next move would likely be something much more clandestine.
She swept through the case files mentally yet again. If...Ema wasn't missing anything, then the only lead remained the godfather. He had been spouting gibberish for days until Dr. Rhinke had coaxed that address out of him. She still couldn't believe that they hadn't found anything at the place. They'd spent hours searching the place from top to bottom in the afternoon heat, and still nothing. Hell, the only place that had been tolerable to stand in was the living room, and that was because of all the air conditioners in there.
Wait a minute... Ema thought. But the home owner just got in a couple minutes after our team arrived.
She sat up in her bed abruptly and snatched her phone off her nightstand, dialing the number for Spex's desk.
"Hello, Detective Spex speaking."
"Spex, it's Skye. Do we have a uniform at the address Dr. Rhinke gave us?" she asked as she threw off her covers and got out of bed. Ema headed directly to her closet to search for her work clothes.
"Of course not. We both agreed the house was clear," he answered stoically. "It's two in the morning. Why are you awake?"
She wrestled her pyjama bottoms off single-handedly. "Because I don't think the house is clear. That woman come home after we'd arrived, so then why did she leave all those air conditioners on?"
"Uh, to keep the house cool while she was out?"
"Or to preserve the integrity of drugs," Ema suggested firmly. She was pretty sure she was onto something. "Look, there weren't any fans or air conditioners in any other room in the house. That in itself is a huge red flag to me. Even if I'm wrong, it needs to be checked out. No harm done. But if I'm right, they know the cops were sniffing around one of those storage areas. Everything could be gone by tomorrow."
"...Alright, but if we're really going to search, we need a warrant. I'll send a uniform to patrol."
"No, I'll go. I can't sleep anyway. I'll even do you another favour and call Gavin myself. Maybe something I see on recon will make getting the warrant easier."
He paused. "I thought you didn't have a car."
Ema rolled her eyes. Of all the things for him to catch... "I'll use one of those car share services. It's just recon."
"Fine. Let me know if you need back up," Spex stated in his typical no-nonsense tone.
"Will do," she responded, then threw her phone down so that she could finish getting dressed.
It only took a minute to throw on her usual vest and crop pants, but she thought better of bringing her lab coat. Instead, she threw on a black overcoat that would stand out much less; the last thing she wanted was to get caught for wearing noticeable clothes. She pulled her hair up into a much more manageable ponytail and flew out the door in search of the nearest car-share vehicle.
She was lucky that the house was only about a ten minute drive away from her own apartment. Even better, at this hour, there was basically nobody on the road so her self-induced nausea was prevented seeing as her foot wasn't constantly riding the brake. As she pulled up across the street from the house, the detective absently remembered she had to call Klavier about the warrant. She shut off the engine and sat her phone on the dash, turning on speaker phone. He really wasn't going to be happy about this.
"...Ja?" the former rock star answered in a groggy voice after a few rings.
"Hey, it's me. Sorry to wake you, but I think I've got a new premise for a warrant and I've got several witnesses to back me up," Ema said, getting straight down to business.
"Ema...? What time is it? You said you would sleep," he stated pointedly, though she could still hear the sleep in his voice. He sounded more like a whiny little boy than annoyed she wasn't currently at home in her bed.
Ema settled into her seat, popping off her seatbelt. It could be a long night; it didn't hurt to get comfortable. "Well, I tried and it didn't work, but at least I'm reworking a lead now."
She heard shifting coming from the other end of the line, "You said you needed a warrant. Am I to guess you've found something new to follow?" he asked, now sounding little more awake.
"Old lead, new revelation," she explained airily. "Spex can fill you in, but the gist is: lots of air conditioners, probably lots of drugs."
"So same house and no warrant," he filled in the blanks. "I'm still missing the evidence we need to get one. Perhaps you have something new?"
"Reasonable belief that—" Ema paused as a white van pulled up on the other side of the street in front of the house. Three sets of boots hit the ground and headed towards the door where they were greeted by the lady of the house. The detective sunk down lower to ensure she wasn't seen as the home owner peeked both ways out the door.
"Care to finish that thought? Ema?"
"Shh!" she hissed at her phone. "I've got movement!"
"Movement? Should I call Herr Spex and get him to send backup?" he asked in concern.
"No, no," Ema did her best to stay hidden while craning her neck to see what was happening. "I'm not even sure if—oh shit! One of them went back to grab a gas can!"
Even under the dim glow of the streetlights, it was easy to make out the red plastic container left in the walkway. They were likely planning on moving the drugs and then torching the place now that cops had gone snooping around it.
"Ema, what's going on? It doesn't sound like—"
"Call me back in ten minutes," she told him, briefly checking the time before she closed her phone up. She peered through the driver's side window to see another one of the men drop off a duffle bag in the back of the van.
She was thanking her lucky stars that she was in a car share vehicle that nobody would think twice about as she quietly manoeuvred to the passenger's side to get out. She closed the door with as little noise as possible and was grateful when the man didn't seem to notice. He moved over to the walkway of the house and ducked his head to light a cigarette. Seeing her chance, she stealthily moved to the back of the van where the doors were still open. Ema rolled inside and pulled out her gun as a precaution, then looked inside the duffle.
Bingo. Loads upon loads of opioids lay huddled in their bottles in the bag. She didn't need that warrant anymore.
Just then, she heard voices from outside the van and realized another bag was being passed off to the guy by the van. Hurriedly, she pressed herself against the inner wall of the van, waiting for him to approach. The footsteps gradually grew closer until the man turned to place the duffle into the back. Their eyes locked. His grew as wide as saucers.
"Hey," Ema greet him casually, and he needed a second to drop his product and go for his gun, just as she'd thought. That second was all she needed.
Jumping forward to grab the edge of the van's roof, she used her momentum and swung her heel right into the man's face. He fell to the ground, unconscious, and she immediately got out of the car to cuff him. As soon as the shackles were in place, she fired off a text to Spex for back up with every intention of waiting for it. That was when she realized the wonderful fact that the container full of gas was no longer outside.
Ema mentally groaned. They planned on torching this place sooner than her backup would arrive. She had to go this one alone or at least attempt to stall them.
Pushing away all her reservations about going solo, the forensic investigator dashed over to the house, making her way along the side to get to the back door. Once they saw their third cuffed, they would undoubtedly come looking for her. Sure enough, she heard one of the men run back to the house, speaking in a panicked hush.
"He was in handcuffs! It's gotta be the cops!" one man insisted urgently. "What do we do? We've still got a bunch of bags in the house!"
"...We'll just have to leave them. We've gotta torch this place and go," the other reasoned.
"Are you kidding? The boss is gonna kill us! There's at least a quarter of a mil still in there!"
"What, you want it to get seized instead? That's gonna leave evidence that connects straight to the boss! Either we lose the drugs or we're fucking dead."
Leave it to goons to deliberate like idiots, Ema thought as she rolled her eyes. If they were really worried about getting out of here, they wouldn't have just stood around chatting about it. Still, their plans to set the house aflame hadn't changed, meaning she needed to appeal to their self-preservation if she wanted to keep them around long enough for backup to get here and lock the place down.
First of all, she needed to draw their attention. The detective moved silently to the back door, where she remembered the kitchen was, and knocked.
"Ellis, I told you to use the goddamned front door! Nobody's watching!"
Oh, she knew the home owner was in on it. Ema felt slightly vindicated, but only knocked again as she stood to the side of the door with her back against the wall.
"Goddamn it, Ellis, I told you—"
The door swung open and Ema pointed her gun at the woman, now frozen in place. "Walk over to the post, now," she ordered, nodding her head in the direction of the wooden post supporting the roof. The homeowner complied without a sound and Ema had her cuff herself around the post. Now, knowing this one wouldn't be escaping, she left the woman outside on her own and entered the house.
"Ellis! She just went through the back door!" Ema heard her second victim shout, just as she wanted. Luring them in here on her terms was going to go a long way in stalling them.
She remembered the layout of the house well enough, planting her phone on the seat of one of the chairs at the dining table before crossing to the other side of the kitchen and ducking behind the island. In about 30 second, it would be exactly ten minutes since she'd gotten off the phone with Klavier. The sound of boots on the floor told her that one of the men had gone to check for her upstairs. The other was only moments behind, bursting through the kitchen door.
She glanced out from behind the counter to see her assailant carrying a gun with a silencer. He was looking around the kitchen cautiously as the woman hissed at him to help her from the post. "Shut up! Let me find this bitch first!"
Counting down the seconds, she readied herself. She was relying on Klavier's perfectionist tendencies to come through as they usually did. He was crazy when it came to his music and only a little bit less extreme when it came to punctuality. It was music to her ears when she heard The Guitar's Serenade coming from her phone as if on cue.
The man whipped around, searching for the source of the noise as Ema slammed into him from behind. The gun fell from his grip as she elbowed him in the chest. He stumbled back as she threw her fist at him, but he had recovered and shoved her arm aside. Suddenly, Ema was on defence, dodging his return blows. A knuckle caught the side of her cheek and knocked her off balance and a second later, she found herself thrown against the island. She gasped as a sharp pain jolted through her back, then dropped to the floor on instant when she saw another fist headed her way. Pumped with adrenaline, she thrust her elbow into his groin and keeled over in pain. Grunting, she hooked him hard in the side of the head.
He fell over, unconscious, and Ema stood to grab her firearm from her holster for the next encounter, ready and alert. It didn't even occur to her what was happening when an arm hooked her around her neck.
She couldn't breathe. Shit, she couldn't breathe! Ema struggled both against her attacker's hold and to keep panic from setting in, but the feeling of suffocation was hardly something she could be rational about. Worse, her feelings of desperation only grew when she couldn't feet her feet on the ground. Air was her only focus. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish as she grasped at his arms. The room was suddenly looking foggy and all she could do was claw at his face.
Ema didn't have enough strength to do anything anymore. Her brain was empty and her limbs were flailing aimlessly. Desperately, she dug her fingers the face behind her. Her middle finger press into something squishy and then she was on the floor, coughing and gasping as air passed painfully through her throat and into her lungs. She turned over on her back, her neck throbbing, and was faced with the barrel of another gun. Ema was tired and resigned from the lack of oxygen. She couldn't think of anything she could do at this moment. Closing her eyes, she accepted whatever was to come.
A shot rang out, but Ema didn't feel anything. Slowly, she let her eyes open again to see Detective Spex in kevlar, holding a smoking glock.
He glanced at her will a cool expression. "You called for backup?"
Ema wasn't fully listening to the EMT that was doing a quick review of her health. She had some bruises around her neck and on her back and her throat was definitely sore, but there weren't any major injuries. If she could walk, work, and think, she hardly thought there was much of an issue. The thing that stayed with her the most was probably the gross thought that she had blood from someone's eyeball still stuck under her fingernail.
Unfortunately, the EMT seemed to think otherwise and began prattling on about the consequences of soft tissue injuries. Eventually, the man made her promise that she would stretch twice a day and see a massage therapist or physiotherapist on her medical plan. When he started talking about potential functional difficulties if she ignored her injuries, Ema found herself making a reminder to call her physio's office on her phone.
Ultimately, it hadn't been a bad night (or more accurately, morning). All four criminals involved in this specific incident had been caught and arrested alive. The guy who had assaulted her hadn't been shot fatally by Spex, and to top it off, another one was already talking. They'd inflicted some major damage on the drug ring.
As she stepped out of the ambulance, Ema took a moment to watch the officers combing the house. It turned out that the couches (including the one she'd wanted to sit on earlier, incidentally) had been hollowed out to hold the drugs. Obviously they'd tossed through the cushions, but they hadn't looked any further into the furniture.
It was then that she saw a worse night headed her way when a certain forensic investigator approached her.
"Ema! I'm glad to see you're alright!" Dayton said, his voice filled with relief.
"I appreciate that," she replied, forcing a smile. "Did the team find any new evidence?"
Immediately, his face fell, looking hurt. "So that's it? That's all we talk about now? Work?"
Seriously? He was doing this right now? "Dayton, we're supposed to talk about work. What do you want me to do?"
He threw his hands up in frustration, still wearing the gloves he had been wearing while checking out the scene. "Well, you could be a little friendlier," he suggested irritably. "You're always trying to get rid of me."
"That's because every interaction we have involves you and some ulterior motive. I'll be 'friendlier' when what you want is actually friendship," Ema retorted. Coincidentally, she was not feeling very accommodating at the moment.
"Detective Skye," a familiar voice cut in. She turned, noting the soreness in her neck, to see a very displeased-looking Klavier Gavin standing there, arms crossed. "Can I speak to you privately?"
Internally, she was just wondering when the hell this day was going to end. It didn't help that the sun would be rising in a couple of hours. Outwardly, she shot Dayton a look indicating that their conversation was over before heading to the other side of the ambulance in the middle of the street. Despite all the flashing lights, citizens in the area who had come in curiosity to see what was going on had been dispersed by officers a while ago. As far as privacy went, this was the best they were going to get.
"How are you feeling?" he asked as soon as they were concealed from everyone else.
"None the worse for wear. Just some bruises, but I'm fine otherwise," the detective answered with a shrug. "It was kind of close there for a second, but Spex and his team got here just in time."
Klavier was looking away distractedly. "So you're relatively unharmed."
She raised an eyebrow at his peculiar behaviour. "That's what I said."
"Good," he answered, then rounded on her abruptly, eyes blazing. "Now exactly what possessed you to enter a house with four hostiles without any backup or protection?"
Ema's jaw dropped at his outrage. "Excuse me? My doing that is the only reason we have all this evidence right now!"
"It could have cost you your life," he said. "Do you think the evidence would have been worth it then?"
"Yes," she retorted stubbornly, "because I swore to protect and serve the people, which is what I did by getting all those drugs off the street. Newsflash, but this is what I'm trained for."
"You're trained in self-defence, not solo stealth missions. You weren't even wearing a vest! You should have waited for backup!" Klavier berated her. He looked like he wanted to punch something, which was a sentiment Ema could relate to right about now. The guy was relentless. All that effort into getting this evidence and practically the first thing he did was yell at her? That ungrateful fop...
"If I'd waited for backup, there wouldn't be any drugs left to find," Ema hissed.
"It was a poor judgement call," he shot back venomously, "made by a poor detective."
Did he just...? Ema could feel the cold rage coursing through her veins. Yeah, she definitely wanted to punch something—mainly someone's pretty face—considering how disrespectful he was being For him to insult her as both a low enforcement officer and as a person was way out of line. He was acting like some asshole who couldn't appreciate the lengths she'd gone to do her job right. He didn't care at all! All he cared about was...was...
It was with great alarm that she realized how utterly unkempt he looked, his hair up in a messy ponytail and with his button-down wrinkled. He had none of his costume jewellery on and was even lacking a belt. It was obvious he'd rushed to get here without worrying about aesthetics, and Klavier was always worried about aesthetics. Whenever they had late call-ins similar to this, he generally still showed up looking glimmerous with a full braid and chains.
Her anger started rapidly cooling as his statements played back in her head. Everything was about how she could have died and put herself in a good position to do so. Well, everything except for that last statement which had just been an attack on her personally, which was something she hadn't experienced in a long time when it came to him. The whole thing seemed awfully familiar. Maybe because it was.
Wasn't...wasn't this the exact same thing she'd done a month ago to him?
Ema took a step back, stunned by the implications of this revelation. She was no longer taking his bait, unwilling to fight back. Keeping the astonishment off her face was impossible as she stared at him. "I'm... I'm sorry."
Klavier turned away, obviously reluctant to apologize.
"I get it. I do," she assured him quietly. "You're mad because you care about me. I didn't mean to worry you."
This time, he looked at her incredulously. "Worry me?" he started in disbelief. "I wasn't worried. I was—Ema, do you know how scared I was? First you hung up on me without warning, didn't pick up the phone when I called you back, and then I'm told backup was called ten minutes earlier! Until about 30 minutes ago, I thought you might be dead!"
They were both silent for a few moments after that. Ema wasn't sure what else to say. She'd already apologized and she was much too shaken from her epiphany to really consider what else she should say. Instead, it was Klavier who spoke up again.
"I apologize for being disrespectful. It was uncalled for," he said softly. She could see on his face how upset he was, how conflicted he was being stuck between anger and fear, and she was filled with the need to comfort him. She could see his heart plainly because she understood what he was feeling. She knew.
"It's okay," she told him, moving forward and gently placing a hand on his cheek. "Klavier... It's okay."
She knew.
Ema kissed him, clutching his shirt in one hand and on her tip-toes to meet him. It only took a second before she felt him responding, his fingers ghosting against her back as she nipped at his upper lip. She'd gone on a few dates over the last few years—nothing that stuck—and had kissed a few different guys, but as far as first kisses went, this one definitely triumphed over them all. Never in her life had she ever felt so connected to someone else. By way of science, it was just contact of the lip epithelium and vermilion between two people. It wasn't some special thing and she didn't think much of it...until now. Was it normal to feel this close to someone just because of a kiss? Was it normal for something like that to that invoke so much emotion?
It felt like minutes but it was probably only seconds when Klavier pulled away, more roughly than she anticipated. The detective stumbled back, confused. The kiss had been really good for her; had it not been for him? She caught a glimpse of his face only to find that he seemed even more upset than before. His jaw was tightly clenched as he glowered at her.
"You... You need to stop," Klavier said, voice unsteady. "You said you didn't want this."
He didn't give her a chance say or do anything. He just stalked off, leaving her to stand there alone next to the ambulance like a stunned deer in headlights. Ema knew she could've gone after him, stopped him and created an opportunity herself, but what could she say when he was right? She didn't want this. The words had come out of her mouth when she'd been standing in his office only a few weeks ago. She wasn't looking for a relationship. She didn't need love.
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that a piece of herself was walking away with him.