Killing Game

By Kadi

Rated T

Disclaimer: This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

A/N: For Babi, who waited so patiently for some #Shandy.

Chapter 6

It was almost noon the following day before Sharon sent any of her people home. It had taken her and those with her hours to go through Sergeant Elliots current and past cases. There were a few threats logged, those that seemed credible enough to go on record. They were what Sharon expected to find, disgruntled former officers and unhappy civilian family members. Her instincts told her not to expect much to come from them, but they made note of the information and her team began the task of trying to track down all the involved parties.

While Sharon was at Professional Standards with Provenza and Sykes the footage from the traffic cameras was received. It was just as Andy had predicted. They couldn't see the driver of the van and the license plate belonged to an SUV that was reported as stolen earlier in the week. They were coordinating with Robbery-Homicide to completely rule out that connection, but it left them in an uncomfortable and tenuous position. They didn't have any leads to go on, at least none that were compelling.

That was not a situation that Sharon was especially thrilled about, but they had suspected that finding the Sergeant's killer would not be a simple matter. Their suspicions were being proven true. She truly wished that they had been wrong.

With nothing to go on and what appeared to be a long investigation ahead of them, Sharon sent her team home for a couple of hours. She gave them enough time to eat, shower, and nap before they reported back to the Murder Room to continue trying to find something that would lead them to Sergeant Elliot's killer.

It seemed, for a moment, that she might not heed her own orders, but Sharon had calls to make and she wanted to freshen up as much as the others did. She was home for half an hour before she bothered stepping into the shower. She had phoned Ricky first, and then Emily. Then she called to check on Lisa Elliot. She wasn't able to speak to the widow, but she was able to touch base with the grief counselor that was assisting the family. Sharon left a message for the other woman, and then she turned her attention to the shower.

She set the water as hot as she could stand it and stood watching the steam fill her bathroom. Rusty wasn't home. She was there alone, but she still waited until she stepped beneath the stinging, almost punishing spray before she allowed the tight control that she had maintained on her emotions to slip away. The water that spilled down on her in almost scalding sheets could wash away the visual evidence of her tears, but it could do little to erase the raw grief that lay behind them.

When she closed her eyes she could see Elliot as he had been in the morgue, gray and lifeless, the remains of a body that had been cut open and examined. She could see him, too, sitting in the front seat of his car, slumped forward with part of his head missing. It sent a shiver through her, despite the heat of the water all around her. She had witnessed worse. They saw death all around them everyday. It was the profession that she had chosen, a calling that was more than simply a job. This was not the first time that such images had affected her, but this time she knew the person starring in the movie reel that was playing inside of her mind.

Sharon pressed a hand against the tiled wall of the shower and stood hunched. She pressed her other hand against her breastbone and took a thin, shuddering breath. Her chest ached; it burned. It was a pain that rose into her throat and burst forth with a single, choked sob that rocked her small frame. She allowed herself to slide into the grief, and so did not start when a cool breeze fell upon her shoulders, nor when a pair of large hands drew her backward.

The arms that circled her were familiar and dear. Sharon leaned backward and found herself completely engulfed. Her small wrists were held in one large palm, while the other splayed across her stomach. She felt lips brush her shoulder, and the tickle of a day's worth of beard growth against her neck when he tucked his face there. She drew another breath and tipped her head slightly to the side, and let herself rest almost completely against the man that was holding her. He couldn't take away the weight of her grief, but he could help her carry it, and she would let him.

"I love you." Did she say it enough? Sharon questioned that now as she thought of Lisa Elliot, preparing to bury her husband. What was enough? If every day was filled with the same words or actions, would that come close to expressing the wealth of emotion that one person could feel for another? Was it even possible to put into words, or even deeds, the importance that a single human being could carry in your life? Sharon didn't have to extend her mind very far to imagine even a fraction of what Lisa Elliot was currently experiencing, she had come entirely too close to that herself; it was closer than she ever wanted to think about. It seemed impossible and even a little ridiculous to say or think that one human being could not live without another, it could be done, physically it was possible, and perhaps even emotionally. She would have been able to go on, she had her children and her friends, her career and a number of hobbies… but there would be a very large piece of her missing. She would exist with a portion of herself hollowed out. It would hurt, and she imagined that every day she would feel that pain, that she would feel the absence of that part of herself.

The arms that were wrapped around her pulled her closer. The embrace was tightened. Andy pressed his lips into her wet hair and let his lips move against her ear. He almost didn't hear her over the sound of the shower. She had spoken almost too quietly in a voice that was thick and trembling with emotion. His thumb stroked a gentle caress against her stomach. "I know," he told her. Words could hold a great deal of power, or they could be spoken too often to carry much meaning. He knew, every day that they were together, and even when they were apart, he did not have to question the strength or commitment of her heart. It was in every touch, and expressed in every look. It was in the way that she said his name, and in all of the simple ways that they took care of one another.

It was in the tea cabinet that was always stocked at work, because he knew she preferred the lighter blends. It was in the coffee that he would find in her cupboard, the stronger, dark roast when Andy knew that Sharon liked a gourmet coffee – on those occasions that she actually drank it. It was the way that she got him extra dressing for his salad when she made the lunch run, because he had eat healthy, but he didn't always have to be that healthy. It being so tired he thought he could fall asleep standing up, but driving across town to Los Feliz instead of going home so that he could hold the woman that he loves. Andy had known that he would find her in the shower. It was where she always hid her tears. That was something that he learned during the weeks that he was recovering at her condo.

Back then the idea of sliding into the shower with her and wiping them away had occurred to him, but they had not been ready for that now. Time had changed. Just as time changed a lot of things. People were born, they grew older, and they died… but often enough they died much too early and from causes that were far from normal. Andy slowly turned Sharon around in front of him. His hands cupped her face. He tipped her head back and let his thumbs sweep across her cheeks. Her eyes were red, and her lips slightly swollen from having been scraping at them with her teeth, something that he knew that she did when she was especially upset. His head lowered and he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"I love you." The words rumbled quietly in the shower. Andy drew her against him again. His arms circled her; a hand cupped the back of her head and he tucked it beneath his chin. He held her there and turned slightly, so that the water was pelting down on both of them. He felt her shudder and knew that the tears had started to fall in abundance then. He said nothing else, however, as he stood with her beneath the shower's spray. He would just hold on, and let the water wash it all away.

Afterward, while Sharon got ready to go back to the office Andy put together a quick lunch of warm sandwiches and hot soup. It was simple, but comforting. He brewed a pot of coffee, but knew that Sharon would want tea. He was just pouring hot water into her favorite teacup when she joined him in the kitchen.

Sharon came to a stop just inside the room. She stood watching. His attention was on the cup in his hands. His hip was leaning against the counter behind him with his legs crossed at the ankles. There had been a change of clothes for him in her closet, but he had forgone the dress shirt and tie. Sharon glanced toward the table and noticed that they were hanging on the back of a chair, along with his jacket. He seemed perfectly at home standing in her kitchen, plain, white t-shirt tucked into his trousers and her favorite teacup cradled in his large hand while he slowly steeped the tea bag. She supposed that he would be, given the weeks that they had lived together while he was recovering.

Andy had not wanted to feel like a patient during that time. His activities were limited, but he had done his very best to be a helpful roommate while he was prevented from being on his own. Cooking seemed to be the least strenuous of the chores that he attempted, and the only one that Sharon would really allow him to do. She was perfectly aware at just how frustrated he was during those weeks. He was a stubborn and proud man, and one that had been living alone for a very long time; suddenly he was thrust into a situation of living with his girlfriend and her son, and unable to complete some of his most basic activities. She knew that it had taken a lot for him to bite his tongue and go with the flow, but he had managed it, and as overbearing as she might have seemed during that time, Sharon couldn't be sorry about it now. He was there, and he was alive, and in terms of their relationship she really believed that they were stronger for it.

They were able to gain a level of intimacy that took months to build; they were able to learn little things about one another that all of their months of friendship had not taught them. A small smile curved her lips as she watched him hold her cup in one hand and reach for his coffee with the other. The shift in his attention had him noticing her. Their eyes met and she watched the gold flecks in his brown eyes light up. She loved the way those dark eyes changed colors with his mood; the way that they seemed almost golden when he was happy or could darken to a color that was virtually black with passion. He could say so much to her, in the space of only a few seconds, and without uttering a single word.

He did that now. Sharon could see in the way that his gaze swept over her and the slight tilt of his head before their eyes met again that he gauging her mood and assuring himself that she was okay. Sharon left her spot beside the bar and walked over to join him. She accepted the tea when he held it out for her, and smiled down at the cup when he kissed the top of her head in greeting.

When she leaned against the counter beside him, Andy reached up and laid a hand against the back of her neck. There was a tension in her muscles that he knew would not be easily released, not until their current case was closed. That didn't stop his fingers from working at those tight and tired muscles. He smiled a bit when he glanced at her, just the barest upturn at the corner of his mouth. He liked the shorter hair; Andy knew that he had told her that a number of times since he first saw her with the layered locks barely brushing her shoulders. It suited her, but what he liked best was how easily he could gather it aside and gain access to her neck. That was something that he did now. Andy leaned toward her and kissed the spot just behind her ear. It was a brief touch, soft and gentle, but not allowed to linger.

He moved away from her then and nodded his head toward the table. "Let's eat something before our phones start ringing."

Sharon wasn't especially hungry but she knew that he was right. The thought of putting food in her stomach made it clench painfully, but she knew that not eating would be much worse. She pushed away from the counter and moved out of the kitchen with him. There were grilled cheese sandwiches and a tomato and basil soup that was her favorite waiting for them. Sharon laid a hand on his arm as he held out her chair for her. She offered a small smile and let her hand slide down his arm in a simple caress. "You didn't have to do this, but thank you."

He shrugged at her, but his eyes were sparkling. "I'm hungry." They both had a way of hovering over the other, and it could be as frustrating as it was endearing. They found ways of dealing with it, because looking the other way was becoming less and less of an option and letting go seemed more impossible every day.

Andy managed to get her chair tucked in and slide into his own seat before her phone began ringing. Sharon rolled her eyes and let go of a mirthless chuckle. Such was the life that they lived, although she supposed that it could just as easily be Rusty or one of her other kids, checking in with her. "It's okay." She laid a hand on his arm and then slipped out of her chair. Sharon walked over and retrieved her phone from where she had left it plugged into the charger on her desk. The number was not one that she recognized. She frowned as she answered it. "This is Captain Raydor."

"Sharon." The number had been unfamiliar, but the voice was not. "It's Lisa." Her voice was low, and trembling with grief and exhaustion. "I know that I probably should not be bothering you right now…"

"Nonsense." Sharon straightened immediately. She cast a concerned look at Andy and walked back toward the table with her phone. He had turned in his chair and was watching her closely. She laid a hand on his shoulder as she spoke. "Lisa, it is never a bother. I am here for whatever you need."

"I appreciate that, Sharon." Lisa sighed. "That isn't why I am calling. I was going through the safe," her voice hitched slightly and she paused for a moment. "I was looking for the insurance forms and our wills. I found something that I think that you should see."

The line between her brows grew deeper. Sharon's gaze drifted away from Andy and she shook her head, despite the fact that the other woman could not see it. "I am not sure that I understand, Lisa. What did you find?"

"Matthew never brought his work home, Sharon. He worked late, or he worked weekends, but he never brought any of his case files into the house. He kept his work and our home life separate. You taught him that." Lisa paused for a moment before continuing. "I found a file in the safe. I don't really know what it all means, but there was a note in the folder for you. I didn't read it. It's sealed in an envelope. Sharon…" Lisa broke off and took a thin breath. "Do you think this—"

"Lisa," Sharon cut her off before she could take their conversation in that direction. "I do not believe that we can infer anything at this point. Where is the case file now?"

Andy stood up at the change in her tone. It was a subtle shift, but one from quiet concern to a deeper, more frantic sense of worry. It was not overtly noticeable, but the sudden straightening of her spine coupled with that shift in her voice told him that something had definitely occurred. He took their dishes into the kitchen and returned to shrug into his shirt. Lunch was going to have to wait.

"I put it back in the safe," Lisa replied. "I thought it would be better if it stayed there until you could pick it up, or I can bring it to you—"

"No," Sharon said. "Leave it where it is. I will pick it up. One of my Lieutenants and I," she glanced at Andy and lifted her brows in askance; when he nodded she continued speaking, "will be along shortly to pick it up. Lisa, I have no idea what that case file is or why Matthew placed it where he did, but I am going to recommend that you not mention it to anyone else. If for no other reason," she suggested, "than to keep people from jumping to conclusions while our investigation is still open. Okay?"

"I understand, Sharon." Lisa sighed. "I just want to know what happened to my husband. I need to know why someone would take him from us; how could this happen?"

"I am going to do my very best to get you those answers," Sharon's voice dipped again, growing softer, "but Lisa, sometimes we just don't know why. I will see you soon."

He had only just pulled his tie around his neck when Sharon ended the call and turned toward him. Andy's hands moved in quick motions as he tied it. "Mrs. Elliot found something in the house?" He was able to gather that much from listening to Sharon's end of the conversation.

"Yes." Sharon took her teacup and his coffee mug into the kitchen. When she returned she walked across the living room and retrieved her jacket. She pulled it on over her blue blouse and pin stripe trousers. "Sergeant Elliot left a case file of some kind at the house. There was a note in it addressed to me." She tugged her jacket into place and let her arms fall to her sides. "Andy…" Sharon shook her head at him. "I am really beginning to not like how this feels." Every instinct that she had was screaming at her now. Sharon was only questioning whether or not she should listen to them, or was she too emotionally involved?

Andy finished adjusting his tie and walked over to retrieve his gun and badge from where he had left them on the bar. He arched a brow at her while he clipped them onto his belt. "What do you mean?" He could practically see the wheels in her head turning, but he also knew that they hadn't found anything by going through Elliot's FID cases. "Sharon, it looks like a hit, and it even feels like a hit, but you know that we could just as easily have a killer that thinks he's smart. It could be an old buddy, or someone that he pissed off at the gym. Not every murder is a crime of passion, but they can be just as idiotic as the rest of them."

"Yes." She folded her arms across her chest and walked over to stand nearby. She watched as he finished adjusting his handcuffs on his belt before reaching for his jacket and shrugging into it. "I know that this could be random, but it doesn't feel like it." She pressed her lips together while she thought about it. Sharon looked up at him. Their eyes met and held. She shifted where she stood and let her arms drop again. "Every thought inside my head is telling me to pull this case out of Major Crimes," she admitted, "to find who I can trust in FID and the CI section of Internal Affairs and approach it from that direction."

They were discussing the case, but Andy was not talking to his Captain in that moment. He was talking to his girlfriend. Andy straightened his jacket and pushed his hands into his pockets. He tilted his head at her and shrugged. "You think that he was killed by a cop?"

There was nothing in his tone to belie whether or not he agreed. Sharon sighed quietly. She shrugged at him. She gestured with her hands. "Why would he take that file home with him? He's never done that before, as far as his wife is aware, and further more, why would he leave a note in it addressed to me? Add all of that to everything else that we have, or rather don't have, and it is not painting a very nice picture." As she spoke, Sharon began to tick off on her fingers everything that they knew. "There were no casings at the scene. The shooting was not captured on any security cameras. The van that we believe our killer was driving is indistinct and the tags are stolen. The only prints on the car belong to Sergeant Elliot and his family, and then there is the bullet that Doctor Morales removed…"

"Which doesn't match anything in our system." The .45mm bullet had been run through their local, state, and federal databases. There was not a match to it. Police officers weapons were registered too, both their service and back up weapons and every time they chose to change weapons, they had to fire elimination rounds and register them in the LAPD database. Handguns could be bought easily, though, and an off-duty weapon did not have to be registered and it could just as easily be tossed away. Andy had to admit that it didn't look all that great, but he didn't really like where her mind was going, or that his was going there too. He didn't want to think that another cop would do this, gun down one of his or her own and leave a wife without a husband, kids without a father. Andy used to believe that Sharon was a right pain in his ass, back when she was working FID and seemed to be there every time someone got their nose out of joint over something that he did or said. He understood it a little better now, the lawsuit had helped, but so had all the trouble with Julio. Or maybe it was just getting to know her as well as he did, he didn't really know, and all of that didn't matter at the moment. What did matter was that someone had killed Sergeant Matthew Elliot and if Sharon's instincts were on edge, that was all that he really needed to believe where she was leading him. Andy's lips pursed. He looked at the floor between them for a moment before he tugged his hands out of his pockets and nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, "let's go get that file. You and I will figure out what's in it, and then… You'll do what you have to do."

The smile that curved her lips was slow to blossom, but it lit her face. Sharon stared at him for a moment. Her heart swelled with emotion. She knew that she should not have questioned that he would be beside her in this, but it was a tricky situation. She knew that Andy would support her, but it was Lieutenant Flynn that she wondered about. It was a difficult thing to investigate another police officer. There was a stigma that surrounded it. Those officers that did it needed to have the right mindset. They were not above the law, they were the protectors that stood between the public and the police. They were the mirror that allowed their brothers and sisters in blue to view their own actions and be accountable for them. It was not something that everyone understood, and there were even fewer that could do the work. It took a level of objectivity that was hard to come by, it took a belief in the rules and an understanding that people were fallible, even themselves. When it came to Lieutenant Flynn there were dirt-bags and scumbags and the officers that put them behind bars. Sharon took a step closer to Andy and laid a hand against his chest. "You may not like where this takes us," she warned him in a gentle tone. As an officer he had pushed the line a number of times, but it always came out of his need to do the right thing, to protect the public, to gain justice for the victims. Even at his most frustrating and infuriating he was one of the good ones.

Andy curled his hand around hers and drew it to his lips. "Sharon, it doesn't really matter if I like it or not. There's a lot about our jobs that I could do without. The thing is, whoever killed Elliot, cop or not, doesn't matter. Still a scumbag, and one that belongs in a cell." He reached out with his other hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Right now, we don't really know what is going on. So let's get to work and figure that out. We can worry about where it's taking us later."

Sharon nodded. She took a step back and waved her arm toward the door. "Well then. After you, Lieutenant."

"Oh no." He grinned at her. Andy held out his arm. "After you, Captain."

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling again. Sharon turned and made her way to the door. She did not have to question that he was right behind her, on her heels. She would lead and he would follow, that was the nature of their professional lives, but this time she could also feel him standing beside her. She hadn't needed to ask, he was already helping her carry the weight of this case and traverse the dark path that it seemed to be leading them down.

-TBC-