Omniscient narrator
The sound of camera flashes grew louder as Olivia Benson entered the depressing and hastily organized venue for the press conference.
The detective tried to focus on the heels Amanda had lent her for the occasion. She hadn't slept for three days despite her body's constant complaints.
The truth was her mind was too full to allow herself any rest.
Ever since Melanie Montez, the daughter of Matthew Montez, the shark of the New York prosecution, had been kidnapped, all she could think about was the child and her desperate call to 911.
The case was difficult, to say the least. A ten-year-old girl had disappeared from her grandparents' house in the middle of the night.
Simple as that.
There were no clues.
No doors or windows had been forced open. The child seemed to have offered no resistance. None of the eleven security cameras captured any abnormal activity.
There was no note, no signs of a struggle, no ransom demands.
It was as if the little girl had ceased to exist.
The only lead they had was a 911 call made from a prepaid cell phone at 4AM.
"My name is Melanie Montez, and I've been kidnapped. He said he's going to kill me. Please, please! I don't want to die!"
Before the operator could say or ask anything, there was a noise in the background, a loud scream from the little girl, and then the call was abruptly ended.
They tried to trace the call, but it was a difficult task. There wasn't enough time. The best the technical team could do was locate the phone tower used.
The case became federal when they discovered that Melanie had been taken to New Jersey, as the tower used in the call was near Hoboken. The detective's theory suggested that the kidnapper had taken Montez out of New York via Interstate 78.
The case became complicated when Liv had to deal with the FBI claiming jurisdiction. Once the detectives discovered that the girl had crossed state lines, it was no longer under the jurisdiction of the NYPD or the Special Victims Unit.
Benson was childhood friends with Alyssa Montez, Melanie's mother.
It was at Alyssa's insistence that Liv was able to continue working on the high-profile mystery, and Benson didn't yet know, but it was because of that decision that her career was hanging by a thread.
The detective cleared her throat softly before taking the microphone. The flashes directed at her intensified for a few seconds, and she waited for them to subside.
"Good morning," she said firmly, listening to the robotic sound of the microphone. She tugged on the cord connected to the speaker and tried to appear confident. "Exactly 73 hours ago, the NYPD received a report that Melanie Montez had gone missing. We initiated the search immediately. We called in forensics and interviewed the parents and guardians of the victim. The perpetrator has been quite careful, and our forensics team has been working tirelessly on the evidence found in the victim's room," she lied, pausing briefly to survey the journalists in front of her. "I know you've all heard the leaked 911 call that Melanie made, but contrary to what the tabloids claim, it's not possible to identify the kidnapper's voice in the background, and all the audio circulating in the media with a man saying, quote, 'little doll,' is fake. I ask for the support of the entire population in finding the child as quickly as possible. Her photos have been distributed to all media outlets. If you have any leads, please contact us and do not attempt to approach the kidnapper. He may be armed and dangerous. I'm open to questions."
Immediately, the journalists' hands shot up, and they began speaking over one another, desperate to be answered.
Olivia nodded toward the black woman at the front of the ceremony. She had her hair in a low ponytail and was dressed in an extremely formal beige outfit.
"Layla Lynch from NYC News here. I'd like to know why the police took so long to issue an amber alert.," she said.
"We only issue an Amber Alert when we are certain it's a kidnapping. Initially, despite the girl's disappearance, we didn't have enough evidence to warrant it. As soon as she called 911 and we confirmed it was her, the Amber Alert was sent out to everyone in the vicinity," Olivia responded.
Once again, the buzz of voices filled the air. Olivia motioned to another journalist.
"Why was the FBI involved?" they asked.
"We have evidence that the kidnapper fled the state," Olivia replied.
"Which state did they go to?" another reporter asked.
"That information is confidential," Olivia stated.
"Edgar Wright, from Unspoken Truths," a man in his thirties spoke up. "I'd like to know if the Montez family is aware of their daughter's death."
All eyes turned to the man.
"There's no evidence to suggest the girl is deceased," Olivia replied.
"No? What do you make of this?" Edgar raised his cell phone. The image of a small, blue-tinted child, naked, with green ribbons around her neck, flashed on the screen. "My informant just sent it to me. The body was found ten minutes ago in New Jersey."
Benson's mouth dropped open, and a chill ran down her spine. Her blood pressure dropped almost instantly.
Flashes of cameras went off, and she noticed some of them were pointed in her direction. The murmurs turned into shouts as the reporters clamored for any information that would give them an even more exclusive scoop.
A sharp pain hit her temple. She and her dumbfounded expression would be front-page news.
She thought she might faint, but then Liv felt two strong arms around her shoulders, carefully pulling her away from the podium.
"I'm here, Liv," Nicolas Amaro said, speaking softly as he held his friend. "Let's get out of here before they tear you apart."
(...)
It was already night, and a light drizzle cut through the Brooklyn skies, intensifying the city's low temperature.
Benson was sprawled on the couch, staring at the turned-off TV. She had sat there a while ago, intending to watch one of her potentially bad late-night shows, but gave up when she realized that most channels had switched to coverage of the case she had been working on.
Had been.
Imperfect past tense.
That's because just over four hours ago, Police Captain Don Cragen had called her in his office and personally dismissed her from the force.
Or as he preferred to put it, initiated a compulsory leave.
Olivia didn't blame him.
She had always known about the media bombshell surrounding the case; when she asked to stay on it, she was well aware of what it could become.
It was worth it.
Even though she had lost touch, she couldn't ignore the fact that Alyssa Montez had been her best friend in pre-adolescence, before all the events with Simon and her mother.
Simon...
He had called more than a dozen times, and he would surely be furious now that his younger sister refused to answer his calls. He had probably already read about the scandal surrounding Benson.
The truth was that she was in no mood to listen to her brother's complaints or his incessant pleas for her to return to San Diego.
She liked New York, even though the city was laden with memories.
Olivia questioned her own sanity as she heard a ring echoing.
It wasn't even eight o'clock, but receiving unexpected visitors was never customary.
She quickly got up and checked who it was before rushing to unlock the small latch and allow entry.
Brian Cassidy was dressed in dark and seemingly heavy clothing to protect himself from the cold. In his hands, a bottle with a burgundy colored liquid
Liv leaned against the door. The chilly wind caused her arms to cross in front of her body. One of her eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation from the man.
"I brought wine," he spoke first, giving her a mischievous smile.
"Brian, I've had a terrible day," she said. Her bare feet dug into the floor with each cold breeze that touched her skin.
"I know. That's why I brought the drink," he replied, entering without ceremony. After all, he had been there so many times that it simply wasn't necessary anymore.
The woman sighed, locking the door and returning to the couch as she watched him remove his damp coat and hang it on the hanger next to the entrance.
"Amanda called me earlier today, said you might need some company," he said, looking at her over his shoulder. "I saw the news. I know you met the Montez family personally..."
"I didn't" she explained. "Alyssa and I were childhood friends, but that was in another life..."
Cassidy turned his body towards his girlfriend, slowly removing the bottle's seal while using all his elite training to decipher what she was feeling.
"What happened, Liv?" the question emerged when he realized he wouldn't get much from her facial expression. "I called you all day. You never ignore your phone."
"I was busy cleaning my office," she replied with a forced smile. "I got fired."
His brown irises showed confusion, but after a few seconds, his face lit up, and Brian spoke again, asking her:
"Was it that bad?"
"The captain had a meeting with the chief of detectives, the mayor, and the commissioner," she explained simply. "It's election season, and they needed someone to blame. Of course, they didn't throw it at the FBI. They wanted me out."
The man approached Olivia silently, and draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into a sideways hug.
Benson allowed herself to rest her head there.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay... I'll be fine," she replied.
"I know you will. You're the strongest person I know," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "If you want, I can talk to some FBI friends. Maybe they can convince the case team to take some of the blame."
Liv smiled subtly at Cassidy's suggestion. His years in the federal agency certainly gave him some authority within the organization.
Not enough for the agency to take responsibility for its own mess in a high-profile case.
Though he had ammunition to try to make it happen, he couldn't succeed without shooting himself in the foot.
Olivia couldn't allow him to sacrifice himself for her.
"That would only make things worse," she snapped, but didn't believe her own words. She took the bottle from the agent's hand, poopping the cork, trying to distract herself from her own emotions, fearing that the federal agent would trace her or read her as he had done so many times before. "They can say whatever they want about me. I know who I am. I'm one of the best investigators that ever worked in that precinct."
"One of the best I've ever seen," he replied.
"I walked in with my head held high, and I'll leave the same way." She took a quick swig from the bottle's neck.
"If you want, I can get you some contacts. You'd make a great private detective..."
Olivia smiled at him and looked up through her lashes.
No matter what happened, she knew Brian would always be by her side. Despite being "boyfriend and girlfriend," they were above all best friends.
Perhaps he was her closest best friend.
He was the person Liv confided in, without fear of exposing herself. The person who effortlessly deciphered her mental labyrinth.
He gives the best advices.
The best kisses...
God, the man was a great kisser. Which, by the way, was something to be proud of when it came to the male species.
Although they had never officially labeled their relationship, Olivia assumed that what they had was a romantic relationship.
Everyone said so.
Even though she tried to be cautious, Cassidy didn't seem to mind when the former detective occasionally let slip a "my boyfriend."
Because it was simple.
Uncomplicated.
They liked each other, period.
"Oh, stop trying to seduce me," the man pleaded when he felt her lingering gaze upon him.
"Oh, stop trying to seduce me," the man pleaded when he felt her lingering gaze upon him.
Benson let out a soft, nasal laugh. She leaned her body closer to the agent, just enough for their lips to meet.
The initial contact was gentle but lingering. The citrusy scent of the older man filled the air, sophisticated and fresh.
"Do you know what I want?" she asked, pulling back slightly and getting back to his question. She guided her hands to the button of his pants, slowly undoing it while a suggestive tone crept into her voice. "I need a distraction."
"Now you're using sex as a distraction?"
"Now you're analyzing me?" she retorted in the same whispered tone.
"I wouldn't dare," he replied, sealing the skin of her jaw with his lips. "It's not those skills I want to use with you."
Another soft laughter escaped the woman, as soon as Brian had the chance, and he captured her lips once again.
Their tongues slid together in the unhurried kiss. It was a slow and meticulous exploration of familiar mouths.
Olivia straddled the man, who immediately pulled his shirt up and tossed it across the room.
"You know it's just sex, right?" she playfully asked in his ear. "If you fall in love, I'm out."
"Oh, I know," Cassidy chuckled at the remark. "Just sex..."
Liv let her fingers glide over his bare, well-toned chest.
He wasn't one of those heavily muscular guys, but he was certainly in shape.
"A delightful shape," Benson reflected as Cassidy's arms pulled her by the waist until she was properly seated on his lap.
His audacious hand shamelessly groped her buttocks over the worn-out sweatshirt. Liv allowed herself to scratch the back of his neck, feeling his pleasant shiver. Simultaneously, his aligned teeth captured her lower lip in an implicit provocation.
The doorbell rang.
Olivia glanced over her shoulder towards the main entrance of her residence but was forced to lower her eyelids as she felt her partner's hands on her breast, teasing her nipples and sending a shock that reverberated through her entire body to her core.
She let out a soft gasp, intoxicated by the instant pleasure.
"You play dirty, Brian," she complained, redirecting her attention to the man.
"It's not me who's squirming," he murmured against the delicate skin of her neck.
Another knock at the door.
She grumbled softly, resting her forehead on her boyfriend's shoulder. Cassidy's hands immediately left her tits when he realized she was considering getting up to answer the door. He started gently caressing her lower back in circles.
"Go answer it," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I'll wait for you upstairs."
Liv nodded, dismounting from his lap, giving him space to move.
Trying to fix her hair with her hand as best she could without a mirror, she walked to the front door, unlocking the bolts without even checking who it was.
A little further away, almost on the sidewalk, a strong-built man was moving away from the location. He wore a black overcoat and carried an umbrella.
"Can I help you?" Liv said loudly, causing the man to turn around.
As soon as Elliot laid eyes on the former detective, he immediately returned to the veranda at an almost impressive speed.
"Hi, sorry to bother you. My name is Elliot, and I live on the street behind," he spoke quickly and loudly as he approached. "I've been going door-to-door in the neighborhood looking for my daughter, Elisabeth," he explained, showing Benson a small photo he carried in his wallet.
It was a little girl, around nine years old, with slightly blond hair.
"Have you seen her?"
"Sorry, but no," she assured after a thorough analysis of the photo. "How long has she been missing?"
"I haven't seen her since this morning. She was supposed to go to school, but when I went to pick her up, they told me she hadn't attended class."
"Have you informed the police?"
"Her uncle went to the station to file a report, and I've been searching the neighborhood. I've asked in every house, but no one has seen her."
"Is there someone at your house to notify you if she comes back?"
"Yes, my older daughters."
"In that case, wait for the police. They will probably initiate a search and send out an alert to the residents."
"Can you let me know if you find her?" he asked, extending a roughly cut piece of paper with a handwritten number.
"I'll call immediately," she assured, taking the contact information.