As the wind of the cold winter air stirred through the night, it frosted the windows of cars, chilled bodies to the bone and iced over sidewalks. It was freezing outside due to the early December temperature, but the local Chicago residents were all used to it. It was nothing different. It was the same as all of the previous winters before, but now with the added weight of pregnancy, Erin found herself being less cold and very hot. At thirty five weeks –over eight and a half months- pregnant, Lindsay had assumed the closer she got to her due date, the more relaxed and peaceful her third and last trimester would be. Her hands are curled around the handles of the laundry basket as she carries it out of the master bedroom and towards the washing machine.
With her sore ankles and her swollen feet, the last trimester of her pregnancy had become the absolute struggle. They hurt whether or not she's walking or lying down; Jay's after work massages to her feet, ankles and calves had become a regular thing. With her constant irritated, uncomfortable and absolute moody temper, most of her friends had tried to steer clear of her. Jay had been a blessing and had basically done everything in his power to avoid the wrath of Erin; he was conscientious of her pregnant state, patient with her mood swings and he helps out with any and everything once he's home from work –regardless of whether or not he's tired. Erin walks away from the clothes currently being washed in the machine, and picks up her speed at the sound of her cell phone blaring from the nursery. She manages to wobble to it in time before the call goes to voicemail, "Hello?" She's out of breath and she never got the chance to check the caller id before answering.
"Hey Erin," It's Jay on the other end of the phone, "I've been calling you all day."
"Well, I'm sorry," she rolls her eyes in instant irritation, "I've been quite busy making a fully functioning baby all day, what have you been doing?"
"…investigating Gregory Bishop"
Erin walks out of the nursery and gently closes the door behind her, "Are you actually going to tell me updates on the case?"
"There were no updates to tell."
"It's been over a month," Erin reminds, walking towards the master bedroom, "I promised to stay out of the way, but you all were supposed to keep me in the loop. What's going on? Gregory is still rotting behind bars. His first official trial is tomorrow afternoon. You, the team and Tyler have been underhandedly looking into the case, but you're getting nowhere, right? Is that why you haven't updated me about anything? Is it because there's nothing to update me on?"
"Erin-"
She's getting herself worked up, "Gregory's lawyer wanted him to make a plea deal of life without parole and the death penalty won't be an option, but he turned it down. He turned it down because I promised to clear his name. He knows why, we know why, but his lawyer has no clue. We need to clear his name before he goes down for this."
Lindsay grabs her television remote and turns on the TV. She finds herself watching the news around the same time every night. As she lays back in bed with the cell phone settled between her ear and shoulder, she listens in as Jay tries to change the conversation, "Did you and Annie go shopping today?"
"Why are you changing the topic?"
"…because I need a distraction."
She hears the exhaustion in his voice and chooses to give in to his demand, "We went out for lunch. We went to about three stores and then I came home. I almost got into an argument with an employee at the baby store."
"Oh gosh," Jay chuckled, relaxing back in his seat, "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. I'm almost nine months pregnant and she wanted to rub my stomach!" Erin vents loudly; she kicks her bare feet up and struggles to find a comfortable position, "All I said was unless you're the daddy, hands off the belly… I may have said a few other choice words, but I had to get my point across."
"Did you have one of your mood swings?"
She furrows her brows, "Mood swings?" Erin says over the volume of the television, "Why would I have mood swings Jay?" At her response, he automatically regrets his question, "If you're accusing me of having a mood swing because I'm pregnant then I'm going to show you a freaking mood swing."
"Alright, I'm sorry Erin," Jay immediately responds before she can get too worked up, "Forget I said anything."
"I'm sorry. I don't want to get upset, I'm just tired."
"Try to get some rest."
"You're joking right?" She waits for an answer, but continues when one doesn't follow, "You have got to be kidding me! Since I got home, rest has been all I've tried to get. I can't get comfortable. I shift. I have to pee. I get hungry. My back starts to hurt. My feet ache. The baby starts to kick. It's an endless loop Jay and I am here by myself dealing with it all."
"Erin calm down."
She immediately sits up, "Don't tell me to calm down," She slides off the bed and stands up the second she hears the washing machine stop; her eyes glance downward, "I'm a big girl Jay."
"I know babe, but-"
"No, like I mean I'm really big, I can't even see my freaking feet."
Halstead zones out as Erin starts to vent. Since her third trimester started, he had become more of an ear to listen. He could hear her complaining of every aspect of her pregnancy and a part of him wanted to take the pain away; he wanted to rush time so she can be back to her usual –before pregnancy- self with the baby being here and he not having to walk on eggshells around her. As she places each article of clothing into the dryer, she remains on the phone informing her husband about her day, including the heartburn, backache, swollen ankles, the constant kicking of the baby and the fact that her size makes it nearly impossible for her to get comfortable. She slams the dryer door shut and it immediately snaps Jay out of his daze, "Huh?"
She sighs, "You weren't listening were you?" Jay notices that she doesn't sound mad.
"I was…sort of listening."
"You're an amazing husband," hints of sarcasm are evident in her voice.
"Babe, I'm sorry, I'm just tired of looking at this case. We're investigating a case that's technically closed. We can't go out questioning people because this case is closed. All we have is the information we've previously had when the case was open."
"What is Tyler saying?" Erin asks, slowly walking towards the staircase; she holds the banister and carefully takes a seat onto the carpeted stair, "I know Tyler has to be pulling all-nighters on this case. He wants the right guy just as much as all of us. I haven't spoken to him recently, but from working this case with him months ago, he's just as passionate about this as the rest of us."
Jay twirls the pen between his fingers, "I think the case is starting to get to him," Erin remains seated on the stair, pulling at the loose carpet thread, "He has been trying to help us reopen it, but the last two days he hasn't shown up."
A pout appears on her face, "Have any of you spoken to him in the last two days?"
"He's probably fine."
"I should give him a call," she whispers.
"He's a big boy, he'll be fine."
Erin relaxes her feet into the cushiony, white carpet, "I think I'll give him a call anyway," she puts her phone on speaker and sets it down beside her, "This doesn't seem weird to you? If there's anyone who wanted justice more than we did, it's him; he's been adamant and determined; he's been with us almost since day one; he wouldn't just stop working this case because it's hard. Tyler's too cocky to give up. And right now, you all need everyone's help, the more the merrier Jay."
"Detective," Halstead mutters suspiciously.
"…and it wouldn't hurt to keep tabs on everyone."
Lindsay grabs her phone with one hand and the banister with the other. She gathers all of her strength to pull herself to her feet. After wobbling for a few seconds, she gains a good balance and walks up the one stair. Erin takes the phone off speaker and holds it up to her ear, "Since you're missing a detective, I could always come in."
"Yeah, that's not happening," Jay chuckled, immediately turning down the idea, "No one here is going to think that's a good idea."
Her hand falls to her stomach, "Is it because I'm pregnant?"
"It's more because you're a little too moody, everyone's scare of you, even Platt."
"Why?" The break in her voice softens his heart.
He answers carefully; he doesn't want to hurt her feelings, "Everyone here is just a bunch of babies. You basically bit off everyone's heads in this past month and they're afraid."
"I didn't though."
This sparks a laugh from Jay, "You yelled at Ruzek for sneezing into a napkin."
"He was getting sick; I don't need to get sick! I'm pregnant."
"He wasn't getting sick though. If you remember, we were over their apartment and Burgess sprinkled too much pepper when he was right beside her," Jay reminded, earning a shrug from his wife's shoulders.
"Still, I didn't want his germs on me."
Halstead ignores the chattering around him as he continues, "What about when you yelled at Mouse for having his shoes on?"
"They were muddy and I cleaned the house."
"Burgess dropped an egg."
"I cleaned the house Jay. I'm pregnant. Cleaning the house isn't as easy as it sounds."
"Atwater paid you a visit and you shouted at him; he practically ran out the door."
Erin puts him back on speaker, "He came at like ten at night. I finally found a comfortable position, you weren't here and I had to get the door."
"He was getting off and I asked him to check in on you."
"Sounds to me like it was your fault and not mine," the couple both laugh at her response.
"Alright, you win," he takes a seat against the corner of his desk as Olinsky appears with dinner. His face instantly brightens at the sight and smell of pizza filling the bullpen of Intelligence. They were all hungry and it's extremely hard trying to focus and solve a case on an empty stomach. Setting the phone between his ear and shoulder, he's able to use his hands to grab a paper plate and set two slices of pizza onto it.
Erin can hear him chewing; it's a sound that's slowly driving her crazy. She doesn't want to let him know. She wants to stay on the phone with him and keep the company he provides. Her days were spent alone and by the time Jay got home, he was ready for bed. She was bored. She needed the adult conversation. If it meant she had to put up with his loud chewing, then so be it. The news on the television is drowned out by the sound of Jay eating his pizza; she rolls her eyes, "When was the last time you ate?" She tried to ignore it, but it proves to be difficult.
Jay laughs, and uses the closest napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth, "I haven't eaten since breakfast. We've been engrossed in paperwork and this case you've been so adamant about us reopening," the doorbell rings, interrupting his words and breaking his thought, "Are you expecting company?"
"No," Erin replies, "I'll call you back in a minute."
"I can just stay on the phone."
"No," Erin laughs, wanting to reassure him with her words, "I need my hands to be clear as I go down those stairs and you need to finish your pizza."
"You're right," Jay gives in without a second thought; he uses his free hand to indicate for Mouse to bring over the pizza box, "Ask who it is first," he grabs a slice out of the box and takes a large bite out of it, "Don't just open the door either Erin. If you don't know the person, don't answer and call me back."
"Jay, relax. This isn't my first time home alone and it's not my first time answering the door."
"Just be careful…"
Before hanging up, she responds, "Yes dad." They hang up and she tosses her cell phone onto the bed. Her bare feet sink into the carpeted floor as she makes her way out of the master bedroom and towards the staircase. Her hand securely wraps around the banister before taking her first step down –the doorbell rings again.
People always seem to be impatient when standing at her door. She's almost nine months pregnant, home alone and can barely walk ten feet without almost falling over. By the time she reaches the last step, Lindsay hears the doorbell ring for the third time, "I'm coming! Pregnant woman walking here," her swollen ankles hold up her weight, but she wouldn't be surprised if at any given second, they just collapse. Her ankles and feet haven't had a chance to rest since she got home from the store with Annie. She reaches the door, takes a peek out of the side window and sees no one. Lindsay reaches for the door knob and takes a large breath before swinging it open. The freezing temperature and the large gust of wind send a chill down her spine. There's a package on her doorstep and after taking a quick glance around to see no one and no car in sight, Lindsay holds onto the doorknob and lowers herself to grab it. The door is shut and locked seconds afterwards, leaving a shivering Erin powerwalking into the kitchen.
The package is dropped on the dining room table and she stares down at it silently and suspiciously. There's no label, no return address and absolutely no way at figuring out who sent it. Lindsay grabs a knife and cuts across the tape sealing the box closed. She opens the lid to discover crumpled up tissue paper unraveling and falling out of the package. Tissue paper after tissue paper she pulls out of the box until she sees it. Her high-pitched scream fills the walls of her house. She stumbles back and grips onto the edge of the counter to prevent herself from toppling over. It's dead. It's bloody and dead. Lindsay's hand covers her opened mouth as she peeks into the box; it's a dead mouse, strangled with a beaded necklace around its neck. Folded and taped against the inside edge of the box is a note; she rips it off and unfolds it. It's a warning. Painted in the blood of the mouse, it threateningly cautions her to stop investigating the case. She isn't though, but the person behind the gift and the note knows she's part of the reason the team is trying to reopen the case. Erin drops the note.
Her hands are shaking as she backs away from the table; her eyes wide and glossed over until her back hits against the banister. It snaps her back into the present. She focuses on her current situation and grabs the railing to steady her swollen feet as she climbs the staircase. The television is still on, the local news blaring loudly but she drowns it out. Her mind is focused on scanning her bed for her cell phone and when she finds it; her shaking hands scoop it up. She's fighting against an internal struggle; a struggle to remain calm because stress isn't good for the baby, but every ounce of her wants to freak out. She's dialing her husband's number wrong because she can't seem to focus, and when breaking news flashes across the television screen, her attention is pulled towards it. Gregory Bishop; she hears his name announced by the anchor. He's dead. He was found hanging in his cell a few hours ago –it's an apparent suicide.
He was discovered hours ago; her team would have known this since they were the investigators of his case. They would have been notified. Erin knows they knew about Gregory's death; Jay knew and said nothing. Erin takes an overwhelming breath of air as her trembling hand cuts off the television. With each step, her feet almost give out. Her mind is split and focused on different things. One section focused on the dead mouse, another is fixated on her baby while a different part surrounds the thought of Gregory's death. Erin feels a sharp kick and her empty hand immediately settles on the throbbing area. The baby can sense her getting worked up. She's kicking hard because Erin is internally freaking out. The labored breathing she learned in child birthing class isn't working because the kicks seem to quicken. Her daughter can see through it all; the breaths are a joke that neither female take seriously. Erin's only doing it to ease her baby, but when it doesn't seem to work, she immediately stops.
Lindsay reaches the bottom of the stairs and releases the banister. It seemed to take her longer this time to actually reach the bottom. As she swallowed the fear and anger in her dry throat, she snapped a photo of the mouse inside of the box. A second photo of the opened note followed soon after and she instantly sent both pictures to her husband. She was angry and afraid. Afraid of who sent the package to her and angry at her husband for withholding Gregory's death from her. She had been in contact with Gregory Bishop the entire time; he trusted her, not them. Any communication with him had been through her. And now he's dead.
The phone rings seconds after the photo was sent and delivered. For Jay to see the pictures that fast, he must have already been on his phone. She slides her finger across the screen to answer it, "Erin!" His voice is concerned. She can't find the words to respond. Erin rushes to the sink and splashes water onto her face, hoping the cold temperature of water would focus her, "Babe!"
"I'm here," her voice sounds strained.
It's Voight who responds, "Where did you get that?" She can already tell she's on speaker.
"I just received it in the mail."
"What happened?" Jay chimes back into the conversation.
"Why would someone send me a dead mouse?!" The rise and anger in her voice turns her face a dark shade of red; she's fuming, "I'm not hurting anyone! I'm not investigating the case! I'm at home…on maternity leave! Why would this person kill Gregory and send me a mouse?!"
"You heard about Bishop…" Ruzek sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"…it's on the news," Lindsay doesn't sound happy at all.
"I wanted to tell you-"
Voight cuts Jay off, "I wouldn't let him. You need to focus on that baby. You don't need any distractions or any reason to try and weasel your way back onto this case."
"Well you see where that got us, right?! Gregory is dead! Someone sent me a dead rodent with a beaded necklace and a vague threat attached! Leaving me in the dark gets US nowhere Hank!" Her hands slam against the countertop, "What else has been going on that I didn't know about?"
"We received a package earlier today," Halstead begins to inform.
"Let me guess, did it contain a dead mouse?"
"Erin-"
"How come you didn't tell me? I should have been made aware! I'm not planning to work the case, I know that's completely unrealistic in my current condition, but still, I should have known. Fearing that I'll try to get back on this, when all of you know I physically can't, is just an excuse you're telling yourself to justify keeping me in the dark! I could have been prepared for this! What if he had decided to break in instead of leaving a package at the damn door? I have a baby to protect! I'm here alone! Anything could have happened."
Even though she's freaking out, Hank remains calm, "I want you to come to the station."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on…"
"Erin-"
"Don't Erin me Jay!" She retorts in frustration; it's the fear and the anger mixed with every ounce of added pregnancy hormone, "I'm not a child. Don't say my name like I'm some five year old who's about to be reprimanded. You're supposed to keep me in the loop! I may not be working this case, but I'm involved! I'm your detective Hank! I'm your wife Jay! I work with each one of you listening to me right now! I had a right to know!"
"You did," Voight announces his agreement, "And we apologize, but you'll be safer here surrounded by officers than at home by yourself. Come here and we'll fill you in."
"Hank," her voice calms and breaks in a second, "Gregory didn't kill himself. I barely knew him, but he had hope. I promised him that I would clear his name. He had a reason to live."
"We believe you and we told the commander."
Erin closes the box, "Now, can the case be reopened?"
"Yes, but you should know, evidence does seem to prove Gregory did kill himself."
The box is placed and tied inside of a plastic bag, "His death is suspicious. I believed in him. I was going to clear his name; he wouldn't just kill himself."
"Just get to the precinct Erin," she hears Voight's direct order, "we need all hands on deck and we'll all be safer together. I'll see you in a few."
Lindsay grabs her cell phone and begins making her way towards the stairs; she hated how often she needed to go up and down them, "I'm going to throw on my boots and then I'll be leaving out. I'm also going to give Tyler a call. Jay mentioned that he hasn't been in recently and I just want to make sure he hasn't received a threat. That could be the reason why he hasn't shown up…maybe the killer scared him into hiding or giving up on the case, whichever one, I'm going to find out. Gregory deserves it and so do we."
"Okay," Halstead's voice fills her ear as he takes her off speaker, "We'll see you in a few."
The phone call ends the second Erin reaches the bottom stair. From the amount of stair climbing she does daily –and more importantly in this one day alone- she's definitely getting in her cardio. The tip of her toes hit each stair as she rushes up them, however when her right foot presses down against the edge of the stair, it slips. Her foot slips off the stair and before her face and tummy could implant into the ground, she grabs the banister to catch herself. It was frightening. She was going faster than her body allowed. She was running up the stairs like she wasn't pregnant and clumsy. Her foot slipping was due to it being entirely too close to the edge and the white carpet worked against her causing an easily smooth layer of fabric for her foot to slide off. She's in a hurry. She's alone. She's absolutely terrified. However, she needs to slow down and take her time. She takes a long and deep breath, settles her hand on top of her stomach before carefully and gradually walking up the remainder of the stairs. As Lindsay disappears into her bedroom to get dressed for the winter weather, Mouse is at the office, calling his boss and team over to take a look at his computer screen, "I just received the surveillance footage from the jail. It's in black and white, but it's clear. That's good."
"Great," Voight agrees, "Look through it, Gregory's death should have been caught on film."
"Does anyone know whether or not there has been any word from forensics on the box, the mouse and the note?" Halstead asks, scanning the room as each detective shakes their heads.
"No," Burgess verbally answers.
Jay walks back over to his desk; they're all patiently and silently waiting for Mouse to fast forward through the footage. They want to hurry him, but rushed work won't get them anywhere. They can't afford for Mouse to miss anything. As Jay leans back in his desk chair, he stares off in the direction of his wife's desk set directly across from him. Her chair has been empty for over a month now. He's really starting to miss his partner by his side. Atwater has been a great substitute, but no one comes close in comparison to Erin. She was his partner in life and at work. He missed seeing her face every time he looked up from his desk. And now because of her pregnancy, her cheeks got a little chubby, her face filled out and every part of her that fluffed up, made him want her here even more. He loved every stretch mark, every blemish, and every pound of added weight to his wife's body. If Jay could, he would go home, get into bed and cuddle with his wife. Wrap his arm around her bulging stomach and snuggle up against her. His eyes travel from her desk towards the file opened in front of him. It's Gregory Bishop's character profile that Erin created. It seems she has done more for this case during her maternity leave than they have since deciding to dig back into it.
Halstead's eyes glance up to stare at the whiteboard. The photos have been back up for the last month. He thought when they took down the pictures of the victims that he'll never have to see them again. He was wrong. All of the victims, including Trent, were taped up to the board. If it's proven that Gregory Bishop did not kill himself, then the case will definitely be reopened. Before Jay pulls his eyes away from the whiteboard, he watches Olinsky's slow movements. He's taping up the photo of Gregory Bishop and the word suicide with a question mark drawn beside it is written below it. Jay stares at the photo from a distance, "He hung himself with a sheet," he whispers the words low enough so only he can hear, "Someone had to bring the sheet. How could it have possibly gotten there?" His eyes fall to Burgess who is looking at the computer screen from over Mouse's shoulder, "Kim was attacked; someone knew where she lived, the fact that she had an officer outside of her apartment and the location of her tattoo." He stands up and walks over to stare at the computer screen from over Mouse's opposite shoulder. Kim and Jay both silently watched as Mouse forwarded frame by frame in search of the time around Gregory's death.
The cell phone is on speaker, lying on top of her dresser. The ringing of the phone fills her quiet bedroom as she pulls the black leggings up her legs. Her large gray sweater fell to her upper thigh and as Tyler's voicemail played through –him requiring the caller to leave a message- she held onto the dresser in order to slide her feet into her boots. When a beep sounds, she makes a quick decision to leave a message, "Hey Tyler, it's me. Erin. I know we haven't spoken in a while, but give me a call. I'm heading to the precinct soon and you need to come too. It's an emergency. I'm sure you know we're trying to get the case reopened, but you should also know Gregory was found dead today. It's all over the news so you're probably aware," Erin grabs her cell and turns off the lights before finishing up her message, "I heard you haven't been showing up, but we all need you. We need everyone. The victims need you. We need to prevent future killings. We're so close. You can't give up now." She hangs up.
After each source of electricity is turned off, she uses the light from her cell phone to grab her coat thrown over the arm of the couch in the living room. She slides her arms through the sleeves before using the cell light to illuminate the pathway out of the living room and to the front door. Her hands are full; in one, it's her purse and phone and in the other it's her keys. It's freezing outside and she's scrambling to lock the door just as her phone begins ringing. The bottom lock is locked, and she quickly maneuvers to answer the phone, balance it between her shoulder and ear as she switches keys to lock the top latch, "Hello."
"Did you reach him?" It's Voight.
"No, he didn't answer," She responds, twisting the knob to make sure the access into her house is locked, "I'm going to stop by his place since it's on the way to the precinct."
"He's not important Erin."
"We need everyone on deck, remember? And besides, maybe Tyler can pull a few strings in his district to bring in more man power."
"How about I send an officer to his place?"
"…Tyler isn't the best with strangers."
"But he's the best with you?" Voight quirks a brow, "Erin…"
Erin rolls her eyes, "Not like that Hank. He's like…an acquaintance or an associate, maybe a colleague, ugh look Voight, we're not doing this again. His place is on the way. I'll stop there, get him up to speed on what's going on and then I'm coming into the precinct, hopefully with him following right behind me."
"Alright," Voight grunts, making eye contact with Jay, "Okay, but I want you to send me a text when you get to his house and call me once you're leaving it. And don't take your time, get here as soon as possible. I hate you out there by yourself."
"I'm safer on the move."
"Well, you move slow…"
"I'm trying to move as fast as I can," she mutters, waddling along the pathway to her driveway, "It may not be fast according to your standards, but for a woman one month shy of labor, I'm going pretty darn fast. It's amazing really. And not to mention, talking on the phone is only slowing me down."
"Text me and call me."
Erin smirks, "Yes dad." It's a joke she usually reserves for Jay when he gets overprotective, but it worked for Hank too. Even though Voight didn't find it funny, he didn't catch the joke because for all intents and purposes, he was Erin's dad. As she makes her way through the freezing temperature surrounded by darkness –with the occasional light coming from the street lamps- she hears a familiar voice, "Hey Erin!" It's her neighbor, Todd, "I just pulled a double all-nighter."
"Hey!" She greets, unlocking her car door from a distance.
"How's Jay?"
She's in a hurry –an obvious one- and he's making small talk. It's late. It's below freezing outside and he's holding his briefcase, leaning against his car parked in the driveway next to hers, having idle chitchat with her. Erin opens the driver's side door, "He's really good. He's been working a lot, trying to get a few extra dollars in before the baby arrives. How are Maggie and Ethan?" She refers to his wife and son as she tosses her purse onto the passenger seat.
He pushes himself off his car, "They're doing great. My wife actually wanted to invite you and Jay over one day for dinner."
"Oh definitely," Erin responds, sliding into her vehicle.
"We need to make this happen before baby Halstead comes because once the baby gets here, take it from me, you both aren't going to have any free time."
His advice pulls a laugh from her, "Thanks for the warning. And once Maggie sets it up, just tell us when and what to bring."
"Alright," he begins backing up, towards his front door, "I'll relay the message. Maggie is a stay at home mom. We'll work it around mine and Jay's schedule. When is your due date?"
"It seems to keep changing," even with her driver's side door wide open, Erin starts the car; she wants to give her vehicle an opportunity to warm up, "From my last appointment, the doctor gave me a January 2nd due date. That's final. Any time after that, they're going to induce."
Todd's eyes are wide and because of his porch light, Erin can clearly see it, "My wife was induced. You don't want to be induced."
"I heard stories. I read blogs. I don't want a C-section and I don't want to be induced."
"It's December 1st," he says out loud, "Maggie needs to definitely get planning soon. You have about a month to go."
"I'm ready."
Todd chuckles, "Word of advice; enjoy this last month because before you know it, the baby will be here and the baby isn't going anywhere any time soon. Have a goodnight Erin."
Before closing her door, she replies, "You too Todd."
Todd disappears into his home as Erin locks her car doors. The heat is starting to spread through her vehicle and her bones and skin no longer feel frozen and stiff. Her cold and stiff fingers begin loosening up as the heat thaws out her frozen limbs. Erin pulls out of the driveway, heading to her first destination being Tyler's house hopefully being immediately followed by a trip to the district. Currently at the district –on the floor of Intelligence- Mouse is forwarding through the day's footage, with both Halstead and Burgess scanning the screen from over his shoulder. Jay begins tapping against his shoulder with the back of his hand, "Wait. Pause that." Mouse follows directions and freezes the frame. The team walks over to take a look; they see Gregory. They also see the back of a man in a suit. He knows where the surveillance cameras are placed and strategically moves throughout the room. Gregory's hands are wrapped around the bars and he's crying –practically pleading- the video doesn't pick up sound; it sounds muffled and filled with static. Gregory's face is red; he's shaking the bars and calling out.
The team watches as the man moves from their line of sight and disappears. Seconds following, his hand appears over the lens of the camera. The video feed cuts out before any of them could see a face. It's supposed to be another dead end. The team was tired of them and vowed to do whatever possible to let this footage be the lead they need. Hank walks away from Mouse's desk, there's raging anger in each step he takes towards his office, "There's obvious foul play!"
"This can't be a coincidence," Olinsky adds, moving back towards his seat.
"We're looking at this all wrong," Hank asserts, approaching the entrance to his office, "I'm going to make a phone call. Mouse you need to get me an id on that face! Jay," he waits until he has Halstead's attention, "Call Erin and get her here now. She can skip going to Tyler's place!"
She hears her phone ringing, but she's driving. She's rubbing her dry and tired eyes. It's late. She's pulling onto Tyler's street and rubs her eyes again. The feeling of dryness in her eyes is probably coming from her contact lenses. She needs to splash some water on her face. She needs to take her contacts out and put them back in. One may have slipped and it needs readjusting. Lindsay ignores her ringing phone as she maintains control of the steering wheel. The frozen and frosty streets have everyone driving below the normal speed limit. And as she turns onto Tyler's street, the roads seemed to have gotten worse. Her car is creeping down the icy road until it makes a complete stop in front of his house. His lights are on. His car is parked crookedly outside. He's definitely home. Erin grabs her cell phone, notices the two missed calls from her husband and makes a mental note to call him back as she dials Tyler's number.
Lindsay has the phone placed against her ear as she uses her free hand to unbuckle herself. She grabs her purse and slides it under the passenger seat. She had no intention of being inside long and therefore saw no reason to bring in her belongings. When his voicemail plays through, she waits until the beep before leaving a message, "Erin again," she's holding her cell phone and keys as she steps out of the car, "It's probably negative degree weather, I'm pregnant and there's a serial killer on the loose. Yes, you heard me correctly. Gregory Bishop is innocent and we need to find the real killer before he strikes again. So, I'm outside your house, walking up the sidewalk to drag your ass down to the station. There's no time for giving up," she continues; her tone of voice grows stern the more she talks, "And I know we haven't really spoken since the case closed, but this isn't about us right now Tyler. This is about the victims and potential victims if we don't catch this maniac. I'm outside your place. You may not have heard your phone ring, but I'm sure you'll hear me knock." She hangs up.
Erin approaches the red door, clenches her cold hand into a fist and beats against it. Her knuckles turn red the more she knocks, and she was so close to giving up, saying forget it and going back to her car, when she hears his voice shout through the upstairs window, "It's unlocked!"
She looks up to see Tyler peering down at her, "It's freezing out here. You could have said that when I first started knocking."
"Are you coming in or not?" He smirks and she rolls her eyes before stepping inside his warm house. Her hands and knuckles immediately start thawing off; it's soothing and the cold ache in them decreases the more warmth they start to receive. Erin hadn't been in or at his place since the one day, months ago, she unintentionally spent the night. She remains standing by the front door as she waits for Tyler to come downstairs, "I just took a quick shower. I got your voicemail. I'm getting dressed now," he yells from upstairs.
"You could have answered your phone and sent me a text that you received my message. I could have driven straight to the district," she asserts, walking further into his house. Her eyes fall onto a partially open door –it's a small crack, leading to a staircase. Last time she came, the door was closed and locked. She had thought it was the coat closet, but it seems to just be a basement. She pulls her focus away from the nosey temptation she has in regards to the cracked door, "I'll just see you at the station. I need to call my husband back anyway." She turns to leave.
"Wait," he shouts, startling her and causing her phone and keys to slip out of her hands, "What was that noise?" He asks after hearing a loud sound.
"It was my phone and keys! You scared me!" her hand is placed over her heart and she ignores the apology he shouts as she stares down at her belongings laid beside her feet, "You know," she attempts to reach them, "Now that I'm pregnant, when I drop something I truly question whether or not I actually need it."
West's laugh echoes through his house, "I'll just get it for you."
"I have it," she holds onto the side table for support as she scoops her phone and keys up, "Now, why did you shout for me to wait?"
"I'm going to need a ride to the precinct."
Erin's face scrunches as she bites her lip, "And what's wrong with your car?"
"My brakes aren't working and it's dangerous to drive without them on these roads. Come on Erin," he quips, approaching the top of the staircase wearing only a pair of boxers, "Return the favor…from your messages it sounds like you guys need my help. It's the only way I can get there. Help me out."
"Be quick."
Tyler nods and disappears back into his bedroom leaving Erin standing in the hallway of his house. She wipes her eyes again as she ignores the partially open basement door. It's off limits. West probably has some type of embarrassing fetish collection down there that he doesn't want her to see. She shrugs. She's not one to judge. Lindsay rubs her eyes with her free hand as she hears Tyler attempt to make conversation with her from upstairs, "You've gotten so much bigger since the last time I saw you."
Her hand falls to her round belly, "That's usually what happens in pregnancy."
"Ah," he sighed in satisfaction, "I really missed you Erin. I missed these conversations; working with Intelligence hasn't been as fun without you."
"Is that why you stopped showing up?"
She was joking, but Tyler's silence catches her off guard. He's upstairs, buttoning his jeans and staring at his reflection. Did he stop showing up because she went on maternity leave? Or did he stop showing up because the case was technically closed? Maybe a little bit of both, but he couldn't let her know that. He realizes his silence has lasted entirely too long and quickly responds accordingly, "Don't flatter yourself."
"Well, when they brought you back to work on it, why did you stop showing up?"
"Would you feel better if I said it's because I couldn't see your beautiful face every day?"
"You're such a flirt," she rolls her eyes, "Get it out of your system now because it's not happening at the district. And you're one of the only guys I know that would legit flirt with a woman one week away from being nine months pregnant."
"I'm stepfather material."
"Alright, enough," her eyes roll again, "Stop it or I'm leaving without you."
"I stopped coming into work because I received a package…" his serious sentiments tenses her shoulders and pulls for her to take a step forward, "It had a dead rodent inside."
"I got one too."
"I don't want to die."
"It scared you away."
"…if you must put it in those terms, then yes."
She rubs her eyes, "You can't let this threat stop you from doing what's right."
"I figured…which is why I'm coming into work with you. I can't let an oversized pregnant woman make me look bad."
"Rude."
"I mean nothing cruel by it," he slides a shirt on over his head.
"…doesn't make it any less offensive," Erin remarks, running her fingers through her hair.
"You're just stubborn," he announces, tying his tennis shoes, "If anyone should want to stop investigating, it should be you. You're pregnant. You have a baby to worry about."
"I'm no longer investigating the case and that's why I'm heading to the precinct because I'm worrying about my baby," she approaches the bottom of the staircase and leans against the railing, "That's the safest place for all of us right now, especially after that threat."
"I doubt it." His words are whispered under his breath.
Detective West appears at the top of the stairs; he's peering down below at her and their eyes meet. She sees he's fully dressed with shoes on and basically ready to go. However, he doesn't move. He's watching her rub circles into her belly until he hears her speak, "Do you always take showers this late at night?"
"Sometimes…just after I get my hands a little dirty," he shrugs, his eyes focus back on the round rubbing motions her hand does against her stomach, "You're going to the district to keep safe. Do you really think this man will hurt your baby?"
Her hand stops and drops down to her side, "I don't know, but I don't want to give him the chance to try anything. It's not worth risking her safety."
"Her?"
Erin nods, "Yes, her."
"I hope she inherits your eyes."
Lindsay blushes, "You and Jay both. Everything I'm doing right now, I'm doing for her. I know it's completely unrealistic to think the world will suddenly change for the better the moment you have a child, but I figure each criminal we take off the streets is one step closer to making that happen. This guy, he targets females, he targets women who resemble me, my daughter will eventually fall into that category. Talking with Maura puts things in perspective. If not for those victims, he needs to be put away for all of the other daughters and moms out there."
"You're going back to the precinct just to dive back into this case."
"No, I'm going back to stay out of harm's way. I'm going back so Voight and my husband won't have to worry about me and can focus completely on this case. I don't want to be next."
"Maybe it's your pregnancy that made him turn his attention elsewhere."
She ignores the baby's sharp kick to her side, "I don't understand."
"Remember the gifts you received?" He states it in the form of a question and when she nods, he continues, "and then suddenly they stopped and Burgess was the next one to receive one?"
Erin rubs her eyes until her vision is temporarily blurred; she needs to fix her contact, "Do you honestly think I was a target?" She fans her dry eyes, "Do you really think because of my baby he chose someone else?"
"Could be…" Tyler shrugs, stepping away from the railing, "Maybe this man isn't all bad."
"Yeah," she spats, rolling her eyes, "He's worse and we need to get to the precinct before they call back again. What's taking you so long?"
"Let me pack up my briefcase, turn off all the lights up here and then I'll be ready." He disappears back into the master bedroom.
"While you do that," she shouts up the stairs, "where's your restroom? I want to look at my eyes; it feels like one of my contact lenses is giving me problems. I think one shifted."
At her posed question, she's met with immediate silence. No words or sounds are uttered in response. Erin waits at the bottom of the staircase for a reply. She wonders whether or not he even heard her. He did though. Tyler is staring at the mirror, his opened briefcase resting on the bed behind him. Erin wears contact lenses. And that's all he can think about; he hears her calling out his name, but all he's picturing is the eyes he grew to love not even belonging to her. He hears her voice grow louder and he's forced to reply, "It's down the hallway to the left of the kitchen." He gets straight to the point and focuses back in on his reflection. As she heads to the bathroom, she tries to make conversation, but he finds himself unable to respond.
The hallway door remains cracked open. She ignores it and continues her quest towards the restroom. Erin sets her phone and keys down onto the countertop before entering the bathroom. She gives up on making further conversation, deeming his silence an indication of a mood swing. Lindsay hits the lights, washes her hands before removing and reapplying the shifted eye contact. Last night she made the mistake of falling asleep with them in. It wasn't intentional. She had just been so tired and exhausted from making a baby all day. When her contact is reinserted, she splashes cold water onto her face. She stares at the drops of water dripping down her face and reapplies another splash of water; it's rejuvenating and energizing. It snaps her out of her daze and focuses her. She needs to get to the precinct. The team is brainstorming. Voight had just gotten off the phone and walks out of his office to inform the team, "I just got off the phone with Gregory's lawyer," he announces, earning the attention of everyone in the breakroom, "From the conversation the lawyer had with Gregory, he had absolutely no one in his life who would visit him. No relatives and no friends. No idea who that could have been in the footage."
Dawson stands up, "Sergeant, only law enforcement and lawyers have access to the jail after hours and because he's such a high profile criminal the public are unable to visit him."
It clicks for Voight. It had completely slipped from his mind. He rushes over to Mouse's desk, "Call the county jail and find out the list of people who had access and who had signed in around the time of Gregory's death." Mouse nods his head and grabs his desk phone to make the call.
"Whoever did this probably didn't sign in under Gregory's name as a visitor; that would be a rookie mistake and this guy is far from being a rookie," Halstead remarks, subconsciously twirling a pen around between his fingers, "He probably made it seem like he was visiting another inmate."
With his arms crossed and his hands cupping his elbows, Ruzek approaches the whiteboard, "Looking back at this case and reinvestigating it, we don't have to look at Trent or the women he has killed," he turns to face the team, "Gregory's death should be enough. Gregory's death is going to lead us to the real killer."
"We should have stuck to our gut," Olinsky growls, taking a seat against the corner of Erin's desk, "We originally were going to look into law enforcement, but we didn't. If we did-"
Voight interrupted, "Now isn't the time for that; now is the time for action and results."
Lindsay opens the door and steps out of the restroom. Her eyes felt better and her face felt refreshed. She quietly closes the door behind her after shutting off the bathroom's light. Erin lifts her keys and phone off the counter to see two more additional missed calls from Jay. She sends him a short text, informing him that she was safe at Tyler's house and they should be leaving in the next five minutes. Jay's response was quick and simple. He said okay. She stands in the kitchen, and glances around; it was her first time actually taking in his house. It was still stunningly clean, but this time there was a difference, there were a few boxes packed and she couldn't help but silently question whether or not he's planning to leave.
Erin glances towards the staircase; it's quiet upstairs. She has absolutely no idea what's happening up there; he's too quiet. Lindsay holds her keys in one hand and her phone in the other. She wobbles; her aching feet pressed against the hardwood floor down the hallway back towards the front door. The door is still cracked open; she tries to fight the curiosity within her. It wasn't her place. It's not her place to snoop; it's not her place to go to glance into a room that's off limits. Blame it on her pregnancy brain or the detective side of her, but she opens the door anyway. She holds onto the railing as she cautiously walks down each stair. When she reaches the bottom, she uses her cell phone light to illuminate the room. It doesn't offer much light, but she sees a string to which she pulls that lightens up an unshielded lightbulb in the basement.
Her mouth is agape. Her eyes are wide. She sees a wall of hooks holding up party beads. Five hooks are empty; they're missing beads. She backs away until her body presses against a shelf. Erin's keys drop and she immediately turns around; her eyes are met with a row of jars. Jars of body parts with each jar labeled with a victim's name. There's Michelle's tongue and lips, Claire's hair, Linda's fingers, Amanda's breasts, Lucy's teeth, Shelby's nose and Trent's vocal cords. They're the missing body parts of the women –of the victims. However, what shocks her most, what sends a shiver through her body are the next two jars; they're empty, but a name is written on each of them. One of the empty jars says Kimberly and the other says Erin. Her cell phone is in hand and with her now free hand she wraps it around her stomach as she rushes towards the stairs. Lindsay is limping. Her swollen feet ache and her large stomach makes it nearly impossible to run. She's trying though; she's pushing through.
West had been manipulating her this whole time. He's a textbook psychopath. He is who Dr. Charles was describing. He's charming, smooth, laid-back and slick. Erin turns off the light. She needs to make it resemble how she found it. Tyler's very confident in his words, self-assured, opinionated and extremely cocky. The baby senses her stress and fear and begins kicking. It's coming at a faster and faster rate; her foot is hitting against the same area and it hurts. A lot. West is arrogant, he thinks he's better than others and every emotion he probably felt was most likely fictitious and mimicked. He's a master manipulator and a pathological liar. He used his charm and his sad childhood to weasel his way into her heart! And she fell for it. She believed him. She empathized with him because she knew how it felt to not come from a great family and make something of yourself despite the odds being stacked against you. She missed all the signs. He sent her pink roses. His glove compartment was stuffed with party beads. He's a detective; he most likely purposely inserted himself into this case only to observe the chaos he caused. He gets off on this. He was literally right in front of them. The killer participated in the kill, the cover up and the investigation. And none of them saw it.
With each stair she climbs, the speed of her heart increases. She thought he had psychopathic tendencies and she should have stuck with her gut. Erin sees the door wide open, waiting for her to reach it, but it seems she's unable to go fast enough. Dr. Charles said their killer had behavioral problems in his youth; Tyler did. He's confident in his ability to sweep women off their feet; Tyler definitely is. He'll do everything in his power to maintain control, to stay free and get out of this alive. And as Erin reaches the top stair, prepared to suppress her loud breathing and act casual enough to get out of the house, he appears. He's standing in front of her, intentionally blocking her path to the hallway. Fear is evident in her eyes and he reads it like an opened book. She's standing at the top of the stairs, and knowing she's corned, she dials Halstead's number to which he snatches her phone from her and throws it down the stairs, "What's going on?" It's a rhetorical question that he already knows the answer to, "Erin, what are you doing?" He repeats it again, waiting patiently to see if she had the courage to lie to him.
"I got a little lost." She says in one breath, attempting to swallow the fear tightening her throat.
"I told you that room is off limits." He doesn't sound angry. Maybe she has a chance.
"Tyler I'm-"
And maybe she doesn't. He shoves her. Tyler angrily presses both hands against her chest and musters up all the strength in his body to push her off the highest stair. He slams the basement door closed behind him. It practically shakes the hinges. And as she hits each of the wooden stairs on her way down, he steps down one, watching her try to attempt and unfortunately fail to grab the railing to ease the pressure of her fall only for it to slip out of her hands after each desperate try. She continues to roll and fall until her body slams hard against the tiled floor. He hears a hard smack. Lying face-down completely still at the bottom of the stairs, Tyler walks down. He steps over her body, over the blood starting to spread beneath her stomach and pulls the string to light the one bulb in the basement. Maybe she still has a chance to get out of this, at least for her baby's sake. And maybe she doesn't. She's unconscious. Her arms are open, palms down and spread apart. Impact was made on her stomach; it loosened her fall and prevented her head from smacking too hard against the ground. Her cell phone buzzes beside her, Jay's name and a photo of him lighting up the cracked screen. He's at the district, waiting for her to pick up. And seconds after his call, a notification sounds on her phone signaling a voicemail message waiting to be heard. He pockets his cell phone and returns back to his desk, patiently awaiting the arrival of his wife.