A/N… Here's where it all begins…
~2 days earlier~
Scurry, PA
From the passenger seat, Olivia eyes the highway exit sign as the Crown Victoria zooms past it going 74 mph. She glares at her partner. "Dammit, El, I told you I had to stop about 20 miles back…"
Zoned out in his driving, Elliot suddenly snaps alert. "Sorry, Liv. My mind was elsewhere."
She rolls her eyes as she sees the next highway sign that bears the words; Next exit, 22 miles.
"Should be another one shortly," he replies yawning, clearly missing the sign.
Olivia sighs her disapproval.
"You know, if you drank less water…" he taunts her, chuckling lightly.
"It's 90 degrees and the AC is broken," she argues. She's knows she's very irritable, but it's too damn hot in that car.
He gives a light shrug and glances in her direction, the corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smirk. "And you haven't melted yet…"
She settles back in her seat.
"Relax, Liv, I'll grab the next rest stop."
If it wasn't for the heat and her discomfort, she could sleep through this road trip.
Just under 2 hours by her calculations, until they reach the motel. Not that she used to feel this way about road trips with her partner.
More than 10 years after the start of the longest relationship she's ever had with a man, something changed.
Somewhere inside of her, she still cares deeply for him.
But caring requires a lot more patience these days, and maybe she's losing that along with everything else that has gone out the window in their partnership.
It all started to turn bad about eight months ago. Just before his divorce from Kathy.
He has gotten edgier, moodier. Definitely harder to work with.
Maybe he's lonely. Maybe he misses his kids. Maybe he wants to go back home and forget that the damned papers were ever signed in the first place. She didn't know.
Obviously, it would be an adjustment. Getting his life back in order would take time.
She knows he's tormented himself over what it meant for the kids. Or what it said about him, as a father and a husband.
But given everything she knows of the situation, it seemed like Elliot and Kathy were in full agreement. It was time for them both to move on.
Kathy has been seeing some guy who teaches part-time at Hudson.
Elliot goes out from time to time, but she doesn't know all of the particulars. It's hard to schedule much else when work is, and always will be, his top priority.
She gazes out the window. They're on their way to Tower, Pennsylvania to testify in the State vs. Clayton Oldbridge. He's charged in the rape and murder of Holly Morrison.
If he's found guilty of Holly's murder, they'll take him back to New York to await trial for the rape and murder of Hudson University students, Alicia Caren and Jayne LaSalle, and for the murder of Leslie Sill—Jayne's roommate.
All four young women were college students with bright futures ahead…
Until they met Clay.
x x
Around mid-afternoon, Elliot pulls into the parking lot of the Travel Lodge.
Olivia gets out of the car, retrieves her luggage and trudges tiredly toward the motel lobby. He grabs his bag, secures the car and follows her.
A clerk steps up and greets them when they approach the front desk.
Just as they enter, a man in a suit who is seated in one of the lobby guest chairs glances up.
He folds the newspaper in his hand and lays it on the chair beside him, maintaining his focus on the two detectives.
His eyes are instantly drawn to the woman.
Olivia realizes she's being watched after a minute, but continues answering the clerk's routine questions. Feeling a little uncomfortable, she follows her usual protocol and casually takes in the man's appearance and behavior.
Tall, slender, probably late 40s to early 50s. Dark brown hair with just a hint of gray at the temples.
Generally attractive—especially in the eyes.
He's uncomfortable and a little nervous. Aside from the humidity, he's probably sleep-deprived. Maybe a little over-caffeinated.
Won't stop staring.
He's dressed a bit too formally to be a reporter.
He's likely pegged them as cops, which means he could be a cop himself. Could be a federal agent too.
Finally the man gets up from the vinyl chair and begins walking toward them, his charcoal pin-striped suit sticking to him uncomfortably from the humidity.
"Detective Olivia Benson?" he asks for clarity. The scent of aftershave, cologne, or whatever he has on, wafts in her direction.
She turns from the counter and acknowledges him with a polite nod. Still has no idea who this guy is, or why he knows her name.
Elliot turns his attention from the vehicle information section of the registration form, and eyes the man suspiciously.
He extends his hand to shake hers, smiling cordially. "Geoffrey Stout-McCray—attorney for Mr. Clayton Oldbridge."
She vaguely remembers hearing that the defendant, or some member of defendant's family, had hired a new defense attorney for the trial. There had been a public defender up until this time.
She accepts his hand and shakes it. "Yes, counselor. What can we do for you?"
"My client would like to speak with you privately, Detective Benson," he explains.
"What's this about?" Elliot interjects with a hasty glare. Over four hours on the road in a car with no AC and a partner who hates him, and he's ready for a shower, a drink, a meal and then a nap—and that's pretty much the complete list. An overheated, pretentious defense attorney waiting at his motel is about as far removed from that list, as a flat tire on the Garden State Parkway during rush hour.
The counselor's eyes shift over to Elliot briefly, before returning to hers. "Better let my client tell you himself."
Elliot steps back from the counter and addresses the counselor irritably. "What does he want with my partner? The trial starts tomorrow." He points a finger at the counselor and lowers his voice, "Your client is going down for Holly's murder, and the three back in New York. State's going to put a needle in his arm. Ain't a hell of a lot he can say to Detective Benson at this point!"
The counselor's hazel eyes drift once more toward Elliot. There's little more than a polite nod to her angry counterpart before he resumes eye contact with her. "Please… It's important."
"Can you give me anything?" she requests.
"He's not guilty. I think it might have been a set-up—"
Elliot chucks feebly. "Oh, please... Liv, better make sure we have extra tissues in court for this beautiful, heart-wrenching story."
Elliot may be aloof and hasty, but he's right. Facts are facts. Clay is linked to all of the victims. He has no solid alibi for the nights of those attacks, his DNA is at each of the crime scenes, his hunting knife was used as the murder weapon and there are emails and testimony about his history of aggression and stalking.
Not to even mention the restraining order by one of his victims.
The guy is guilty, period.
She shakes her head uncertainly. "I don't know, counselor…"
"Trust me, you'll want to hear this." He retrieves a business card and hands it to her.
Elliot steps between them, shaking his head. "She's not going to listen to one more thing that guilty piece of crap has to say!"
After Elliot tosses one last nasty glare at the attorney, he turns his back and resumes filling out the check-in form.
The attorney extends the card to her again, leans closer, and lowering his voice he adds, "My cell phone number is on the back. Please call me when you get settled in."
Olivia takes the card and shoves it into her pocket.
x x
A little over an hour later, a gold Nissan Altima pulls up to the curb in front of the motel. Olivia opens the door and gets in.
"Thanks again for coming, Detective."
"You're welcome. And it's Olivia," she amends, fastening her seat belt. The car pulls away from the curb and moments later they're on the expressway.
"Okay, Olivia…" he smiles warmly. "And you can call me Geoff. This won't take up too much of your time."
"Like I said over the phone…I can't make any promises, but I'll listen," Olivia responds. She's seen her share of last minute pleas from the defense. She's not expecting things to turn around.
"Hey, that's all I can ask."
Geoff had called both DA's to request the meeting with the detective—they agreed. The ADAs were notified next. He'll follow up with the local ADA, Kirk Dunhurst, when they're done.
Olivia had called Alex Cabot, more as a friendly gesture, and let her know that she agreed to the meeting. She promised Alex she'd call her back that night, regardless of the outcome.
Then just before leaving, she shoves a note under Elliot's motel room door explaining her plans. She could have been more formal, but what's the point? Standing outside his motel room, she could hear the water running. It sounded like he was in the shower. A note is fair, and saves her from another round of his protests.
If nothing pans out, what's the big deal anyway?
But if it has any sort of impact, she'll bring him up to speed.
She admits to being a little bit curious. There are some sketchy details about the events that occurred those nights and anything she finds out might help to give the families some closure.
According to the psychological reports, Clay sometimes has trouble remembering events. It's some sort of psychologically-linked trauma stemming from his aggression. It doesn't make him any less accountable for his actions, however it does make corroborating his story or an admission of guilt a little difficult.
Geoff glances over in the direction of the detective. He's surprised that she agreed to come at all. He had read in the court reports about the way Clay attacked her and Detective Stabler during his arrest. Detective Stabler barely has to enter a room and Clay's instantly combative.
To be fair, it's not always the detective's fault. Clay has his own set of issues.
He's read enough about Detective Benson to know that she's probably his best choice.
If Clay offers her the same information as he did this morning, it should be enough to get the investigation re-opened.
It's the eleventh hour. Really can't afford not to try.
Journey's, "Girl Can't Help It," plays quietly over Geoff's car stereo.
"That partner of yours… Kind of a hot-head," he remarks, shaking his head. "Not that I haven't seen worse."
She smiles. "He just wants justice. We both do."
"And so do I," he replies eagerly. "Look…I know this seems like a desperate request at this late hour…but there's a bit more to Clay's story. He says he's ready to talk about it. It's all going to have to come out to convince a jury that he's innocent, and he's been reluctant to fill in some of the gaps. So I've really got my work cut-out for me, even if this meeting goes well."
"You really believe he's innocent?"
"Yes," he answers sincerely. "I really do."
The conversation soon drifts away from the case, toward other topics ranging from concerts and shows they've seen, to various types of music. Geoff's a really nice guy. Not like most of the defense attorney's she's met. She finds herself enjoying the conversation and company.
His eyes linger in her direction as they sit at a traffic light two blocks from the main entrance to the prison. "Umm… say, when we finish, do you think you might like to have a drink with me?" he poses, not attempting to hide his interest.
She turns her head and offers a shy smile back.
First attractive guy to flirt with her in months… Figures it would happen to be a defense attorney from out of state.
"Thanks, but I'd better not. I need to grab a bite to eat and wind down a bit from the trip."
He pulls into the visitors lot at the Sheldon Arc Correctional Facility, parks the car and shuts the engine off. "Well…that works out perfectly. I haven't eaten either. So why don't we make it dinner instead?" he proposes. "My treat. And I promise, no more case talk after we're done here."
He seems nice. But the day's gone on long enough.
"Thanks, Geoff. Maybe some other time, okay?"
"Sure. But answer me this. Why on earth is a woman as gorgeous as you, single?" he asks, gesturing to her empty left hand.
She shrugs. "Job hazard. You know the drill."
He nods. "Even harder with that partner of yours around, isn't it? Probably scares most of the guys off."
She blushes a little. "What makes you say that?"
"Job hazard…" he teases back, borrowing her words. "You could say I've defended a lot of those jealous types… Too bad it doesn't serve as legitimate grounds for an insanity defense," he says, chuckling to himself. "Sure would make my job easier."
"What do you mean…jealous types?"
"He's jealous of anyone who comes within 20 feet of you."
"Elliot's not…jealous."
"Oh he's very jealous! Body language says it all. He doesn't want anyone near you. Probably be pissed as hell if he hears that you're out with me. A defense attorney's only a tiny step up from criminal in his world."
"You don't know him."
"Yes, but I've seen enough. Classic male jealousy. He did everything short of publicly marking his territory back in that motel lobby. He's a very loyal partner, and from what I've read, a damn fine cop. But he has anger issues. He's difficult to work with. You've been with him longer than any of the other partners he's had, which says a lot about your partnership and loyalty to each other…" He pauses to watch her expression. "And he'd never let anyone hurt you."
"Yes, he can be loyal," she agrees, reflecting back on their earlier days when they used to be the best of friends.
"He's probably afraid to admit that he's in love with you," Geoff adds.
She shakes her head, laughing like it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard.
They used to be 'too close.' Now they're just 'too close to killing each other.'
"You're crazy!"
"Yes… But I'm not wrong," he responds smugly. "Come on, let's go inside."
They get out of the car and approach the visitors entrance. After the formal sign-in and ID check, they're escorted to a conference room.
x x
Over an hour later, they're at an impasse.
Clay had talked in circles about things they already had on the record. Clearly he's nervous. Geoff hinted that this could take some time.
Thinking back to the day of the arrest, she wondered why Clay would accept having her there, much less request her presence.
Or had he…?
Maybe this was all Geoff's idea?
At the very least, Clay is calm and not acting offensively compared to her other encounters with him.
In spite of any impressions Geoff may have had about his client's innocence or willingness to share critical information for the defense, nothing pans out.
Moments later, they exit the building heading for Geoff's car.
Geoff would have to stick with defending Clay's character and attacking some of the holes in the state's case, and hope that convinces the jury.
Olivia had gone as she promised. There's nothing left to do except let things take their course.
So Clay's fate was split between the outcome of this trial, and his trial in New York.
She glances over to her right—the sight of the weary defense attorney walking beside her with slumped shoulders and a pensive expression evokes some sympathy.
"Well, okay…if you promise no shop talk…"
He stirs out of his momentary fog. "Wh-what was that?"
"If your offer still stands, I'm famished. Where can we get a good bite to eat?"
"Oh…um… There's a great Indian restaurant that's a few miles up the street," he replies, his mood suddenly lifting and smile returning. "I try to eat here whenever I'm in town. Although I've never been impressed with their wines or alcohol selection, the food is fantastic."
"Let's go."
x x
They enjoy a leisurely dinner. Geoff is right about the food—everything is delicious. The restaurant is cozy and very relaxed.
Conversations span different topics, ranging from restaurants they'd recommend, to places they'd like to visit someday, to what led them to their choice of profession.
Geoff lives and works in the Pittsburgh metro area, which is also where most of Clay's family is from. He grew up in that area and had followed in his father's footsteps with the law profession, except that his dad worked with insurance companies and Geoff wanted something more enticing. He got his degree in psychology before going into law and says that it's served him well.
He's a genuinely good guy. He volunteers at a kids softball camp during the summer when he's not too busy. He's very personable. Takes things to heart. Almost the polar opposite of your typical lawyer. But he's doing what he loves. The law fascinates him.
Olivia talks a little about her past and her decision to go into law enforcement.
They talk, laugh and share stories like old friends for the next two hours.
At a little before 9:00pm, Geoff drops her back at the motel. He still wants to do some prepping on his opening remarks before tomorrow.
Olivia goes to her room and returns the call to Alex Cabot as promised.
They chat for a while, Olivia filling her in a little on Geoff.
Alex seems to enjoy picking at her about her 'date' with the defense attorney.
Although she'd hardly call it a date, she did have a really nice time.
She ends the conversation, promising to call her with updates as the trial progresses.
She'll meet and talk to ADA Dunhurst in the morning before court.
Geoff will have called and updated him already. Nothing new to report anyway.
After that, she's wide awake. A drink would definitely hit the spot right now, she thinks to herself, as she turns on the TV and flips through some of the channels.
She thought she remembered seeing something on the corner near this motel that might be a bar.
She turns off the TV and considers going to the front desk to ask about it, when there's a knock at the door.
She sets the remote on the bed, and goes to answer it.
She glances through the peep hole, then rolls her eyes and sighs.
Just like friggin' clockwork…
She opens it, and there stands Elliot. Arms folded, glaring angrily at her. "What the hell is your problem?"
TBC…
A/N… Tower, PA is a fictitious town located around State College to Altoona, PA. I'm not too familiar with that area or the landmarks, but the region fits for the purposes of this story. The prison name is also made up.
Don't worry about E/O... They'll get it figured out. ;)
More to come!