A/N… I promise this will be the longest A/N. I just want to say a few things on this one, and the rest at the bottom.
This story is a result of a few things. The first thing is Rob's character from Tenet, Neil. And then a long conversation with DrivingEdward, who wanted some sort of law enforcement Edward. It kind of exploded from there. It went from just jotting a few notes down, to writing three full chapters…in a week!
Summary: Common ground or mutual understanding – the ability to find a shared event, feeling, or mind-set. Detective Edward Masen rarely cared about finding common ground with anyone, but he may find he has no choice when it comes to solving his current homicide case. AH/ExB/Rated M
This is rated M for all the things – language, dark themes, drugs/addiction, death. It's labeled mystery/romance/hurt-comfort/crime/action.
I'll let you get to it.
~oOo~
Chapter 1
EDWARD
The ringing of my phone pulled me up out of a dead sleep. The sun wasn't even up yet as I cracked an eye open. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, but my sore muscles reminded me that I'd moved into my new apartment yesterday.
The ringing stopped, but it started again. Fumbling for it, I knocked it down to the floor from where it had been charging on a stack of boxes.
"Shit," I grumbled, reaching for it, swiping a thumb across the screen, and putting it up to my ear. "Masen."
"Edward, I know you had the weekend off to move, but we caught a case and I'm gonna need you," Garrett stated over the line.
"Okay, text me the address. I'll meet you there," I said through a groan as I sat up.
"Thanks, buddy," he said over the line. "When we're done at the scene, I'll buy you breakfast."
I huffed a laugh. "Yeah, yeah, but no Waffle House. I need real food."
"Aw, that's a shame," he taunted. "She's got it bad for you, Masen."
"No thanks. I'm good." I rolled my eyes at his laughter, because the server to whom he was referring was pushing fifty, had three grandkids, and stared at me like she wanted to eat me every time we went in there.
"I bet you are. With a face like yours…" He trailed off with a chuckle. "Meet me at the park off First Street."
"Copy that," I told him, ending the call.
I worked my way around boxes and bags and random furniture to the bathroom. I'd merely unloaded the moving truck to get things inside the apartment before crashing out on my mattress on the floor. I'd assumed I'd have at least the weekend to get my apartment up and functional.
After a quick shower and getting dressed, not even bothering to shave, I tucked my badge onto my belt and my gun into its holster before pulling on my jacket. I sighed deeply when I got to my kitchen because I'd shoot someone for a cup of coffee, but nothing was set up and I probably didn't have time to fuck with it now. Once I'd made my way down the three flights of stairs to the sidewalk, the smell of coffee and something sweet baking slapped me in the face.
There was a coffee shop in the same building, and a bell jingled as I stepped inside, inhaling deeply. It was still early, and a rainy morning at that, so there were only a few people inside. However, behind the counter was an older lady with a sweet smile and dark hair that was mixing with gray.
Her apron had Common Ground embroidered across the front, along with her name, Carmen.
"Welcome in. What can I get ya?" she asked softly. There was a soft rasp to her tone, along with a hint of a Hispanic accent.
"Coffee, please. Black."
My phone bleeped as she made my cup, and I pulled it out to see that Garrett was already at the crime scene, sending me pics. It looked like a body dump at the edge of a small pond, facedown in the dirt. Female, maybe late twenties, dark hair, throat slit. From the pictures, I couldn't see any other wounds or identifying marks.
"I got this, Carmen," I heard in front of me, and I looked up to see someone I barely recognized. It had been a handful of months since I'd interviewed the stunning brunette in front of me.
Isabella Swan, half sister to Jasper Whitlock, who I'd arrested for possession with intent to sell. He'd been high as a damn kite, fighting almost every officer on the scene. She'd begged for him to seek help, not jail. She swore he was just in with the wrong crowd. But his activities ran deep in the Seattle drug world. We'd known he was running for James Hunt, but Whitlock had remained tight-lipped about it, so he'd ended up sentenced to county for eleven months.
"Detective," she drawled, her eyes dark fire and filled with disdain toward me. "I can't imagine why you're in here. You caught the perp, right?"
I wrinkled my nose and nodded. "Your brother got himself caught, Miss Swan."
"Half brother." She sneered, but it fell quickly as she sagged a bit and waved it away. "Yeah, I know. Jasper's just…"
"An addict," I stated without much emotion to it, which only made her glare my way.
"Yes, and currently in county for the next several months, so why are you here?" she asked, pushing my coffee cup to me when Carmen finished it. "I told you before I don't know anything other than what I've already told you."
"Coffee. And I just moved in upstairs."
"Ah, Christ. You're the cop Charlie moved into 3B? That's fantastic." She'd muttered the last two words.
"I'm afraid so, Miss Swan. He seemed to think that Jasper brought his problems down onto himself and wasn't blaming the arresting detective," I said, tapping my chest as my phone bleeped again. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm no longer working narcotics."
"Domestic violence?" she asked wryly, and I snorted at her snarky attitude, raking a hand through my hair that was still damp from the shower.
"No. Homicide."
"Perfect for your personality, Detective Masen. Your victims can't complain about your attitude."
Smirking, I nodded. "You might be right about that, and my partner agrees with you."
She fought her smile, and I shook my head at how different she was to her brother. Polar opposites, really. He was blond hair, blue eyed, and eaten up on the inside with anxiety, addictions, and a troubled youth. She was deep-brown eyes, chestnut hair, smart, and somewhat normal. Six months ago, I focused on the arrest, not her pleading opinions concerning her family. And in front of me, I tried not to notice that she filled out the jeans she was wearing sinfully.
I held up the tall paper cup, asking, "What do I owe you?"
"Nothing." She sighed, waving me away with an eyeroll. "Take it. It's on the house since you're new to my building."
My eyebrows shot up. "Your building?" I pulled my phone out when it started to ring.
"Yeah, just take it. I'll explain another day. Just be on time with rent, keep the noise down, and no guests longer than a week without letting me know. Okay?"
She suddenly looked like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. And it was barely six thirty in the morning.
"Okay." I swiped my thumb across the screen, answering, "Masen."
"I really need you here, buddy."
"Gimme a fucking break, Gare. My shit's not even unpacked yet. How the hell was I supposed to find anything?" I asked rhetorically, leaving Common Ground for my truck parked down the street.
He chuckled. "Okay, okay."
"I'm leaving now," I told him, unlocking my truck.
~oOo~
The sun tried to peek through the early morning drizzle of Seattle as I made my way across to the park. I pulled my truck up next to the Crime Scene Unit's van, reaching into the console to pull out a few pairs of rubber gloves.
Garrett was standing by my door when I opened it.
"Who've we got?" I asked him, pulling on the gloves.
"Maria Navarro. Originally from Texas. Twenty-seven. Her throat was cut, so she bled out."
"Here?"
"Looks like it."
Nodding, I gestured for him to lead the way. His former partner had retired six months ago, and I'd put in the transfer from Narcotics to Homicide. Garrett Spears was a few years older than me. He was tall, lean, and as laid-back as someone who'd smoked a joint, though his came naturally. His wife, Kate, was expecting their first kid by summer, and he was obnoxiously happy about it.
I ducked under the crime scene tape, ignoring the media and waiting for the coroner to finish making an assessment. Once he stood up, I stepped closer to the body.
No wounds showed other than the slice across her neck. The ground beneath her was saturated in blood, so she did die at the scene.
"I know her," I said, glancing over my shoulder to Garrett.
"Yeah, she's from your old department, I'd guess." He pointed to the track marks along the inside of her arms – and probably between her toes if we took her shoes off.
"Mmhm, she's a dancer down at The Inferno, but she had lots of extracurricular activities – online adult entertainment, part-time prostitute, and drug mule. Nasty drug habit – heroin. All under the watchful eye of James Hunt."
"Fuck me," Garrett hissed.
I gazed back down at the victim, pulling out a pen from my pocket to shift her hand a little. "She's holding something," I stated, waving over one of the CSI techs. "You might want to bag her hands. She's got something in a grip."
"Will do, Masen," the young girl said, taking a few photos before pulling out a bag to cover Maria's hands. She looked nervously to me. "We're just about finished processing, which means we'll be moving her soon."
Nodding, I stood up and walked the whole scene. As the morning got lighter, I could see that they'd picked the perfect location to kill her. She was on the bank of a small pond, not easily accessible from the park's walking trail. The park was known for drug deals – nothing big, just weed and a little coke. With a glance around, I saw a middle-aged man holding the leash of a black lab.
"Let me guess. The dog found the body," I asked her.
She smiled. "Good guess. He's the one who called 911. He said his dog went after a duck, and well, there you go." She gestured to the body. "She's soaking wet, and rigor has already set in, so she's been here several hours. Overnight."
"Thanks…"
"Jessica."
"Thanks, Jessica. Can you let me know when you've processed evidence? And a tox report too?"
"Yeah, yeah. For sure."
Garrett stepped up as Jessica started to turn the body over to document more pictures.
"It doesn't bother you that every female on the fucking force knows your name, yet you pay zero attention to that shit?"
Raising an eyebrow his way, I shrugged a shoulder. "Why would I give a shit?"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "You can get laid anytime you want, can't you? All you gotta do is show up with that face." When I started to walk away from him, he caught up. "Come on, let me live vicariously through your good looks and single status."
"You're so full of shit. You're the one who's got it good, Garrett. Shut the hell up."
He was ridiculously in love with Kate, who was a really pretty and sweet woman. He wore marriage like a badge of honor. I envied them their happiness and their relationship. They truly liked one another.
He grinned widely. "Yeah? How's Tanya?"
Laughing bitterly, I shook my head. "Don't go there."
I scoffed at his cheesy expression, pulling out my phone to check the time. Speaking of Tanya, I needed to call her, but it was still too early.
"Masen," Jessica called me from across the scene. "You might wanna see this."
"What about me?" Garrett grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I've been reduced to Joe Schmoe's ugly cousin with you as my partner."
I ignored him as usual. Jessica had rolled Maria over, getting her ready to transport, but immediately my eyes locked on to the victim's shirt.
Common Ground. I sighed, keeping that to myself for a minute.
"This was underneath her," Jessica said, pointing to the ground.
Kneeling, I reached down to pick up the item to which she was referring. It was a small plastic baggie, and inside was a bit of white-ish powder.
"Heroin." Garrett's voice was no longer teasing. "Looks like we've got a link between this case and your old job."
I stood up, jerking my chin toward Maria's shirt. "Yeah, well, you still owe me breakfast, and I know where we're going next."
~oOo~
BELLA
You have a call from an inmate at King's County Correctional Facility. Press one to accept.
I sighed, pointing to my phone at Carmen. "I'll be right back," I told her.
"Tell him I said hello," she answered without even looking up from her work. We had a few customers, but nothing she couldn't handle alone with Eleazar working the grill. I stepped outside the back door of the kitchen.
I pressed one on my phone, flinching at the noise in the background.
"Jazz, you okay?" I asked him.
"Hey, Bells. I need canteen money. You said…"
"I know, I know. I've been busy. I'm sorry. Give me thirty minutes, and I'll top you up," I pleaded. "I know it helps with the cravings. Any word on the rehab program?"
"Nah, B, they're full. You could call, though. Beg for a spot for me."
Sighing, I said, "I already have. They told me to give it time for an opening."
"Okay."
I really needed him in rehab more than he needed to be in jail, which was what I'd told everyone, Detective Masen included, when the whole bust went down on my brother. Jasper, who was older than me by three years, was in many ways a child. My mother had had him with her first husband, and then me when she remarried my dad, Charlie. Jasper's dad was an abusive asshole, which he clearly heaped all over my mother and brother – even after the divorce. It finally ended when fourteen-year-old Jasper came home from a weekend at Phil's with a black eye and split lip.
My dad – who was a retired police chief – went over with two officers at the time and explained to Phil that the next time that Jasper came home any other way than how he'd left, Phil would receive a bullet in his forehead.
Phil eventually stopped showing up for visitations. Last I'd heard, he'd moved to Boston. Jasper didn't miss him, but the damage was already done, no matter how much Charlie loved my brother.
Jasper drowned himself in anything that could take away the sting of life – weed, alcohol, cocaine, and eventually shit that required needles.
I looked up when a familiar face peeked out the door, a face I hadn't seen in months, not since I'd bailed my brother out after his initial arrest. She'd gone with me to get him. She'd also been there the day we took him to court, which earned him a sentence of eleven months in county.
"Hey, Jazz, Ali's here. You want to say hi?" I asked him.
"Uh…no. My time's up, B. Please top me up. 'Kay?"
My heart broke because those two were on again, off again. And it hurt to watch. Neither were saints, especially my brother, but when they were good, they were really good.
The call ended before I could even reply, and I sagged in defeat. I glanced over to Alice, who had tears welling up in her pretty blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, grimacing. When a harsh and ugly sob erupted from her, I jumped into action, pulling her in to a hug. "He'll get there, I promise."
It was then that I felt it, and I pulled back, gaping at her.
"I know!" Alice sobbed, looking away from me.
"Is it…"
"Of course it's his! I'm not the one who cheats!" she practically growled at me.
"When?"
"When he was out on bail. Before his court date."
"Christ, Alice," I said through a weary sigh, and suddenly I missed my mother with an all-consuming ache. She would've known exactly what to do, what to say, and would've probably been overjoyed that our tiny dysfunctional family was about to get a little bigger. "You'd better be clean as a fucking whistle, Ali. I'm not kidding."
She nodded vehemently. "Yeah, I know. It's not just me."
Raising an eyebrow her way, I asked, "Have you been to the clinic?"
She shook her head.
"Well, guess where we're going tomorrow," I stated, not giving her room to argue. "Have you eaten? You want something? No coffee. Milk or juice or water."
She smiled softly through more tears, which I could imagine was now hormones fucking with her. "Yeah, that'd great."
"C'mon," I whispered, guiding her back inside to Carmen. "Will you please get her whatever she wants to eat? I'll cover it."
"Sure, Miss Bella," Carmen crooned, eyeing that little bump that was so prominent on Alice's tiny frame. "Adios mio…" She mumbled that to herself, but yeah, I was feeling that same shit.
I was about to be an aunt, and that made me shake my head a little because if those two couldn't figure their shit out, it would be me who had to sort it out. I was just about to head to Charlie's apartment, but the sound of the bell at the door made me glance up.
"Shit, twice in one day," I muttered, frowning at the sight of my new tenant and the cold fucker who arrested my brother. And this time he wasn't alone.
The other detective with him was just as ridiculously handsome as his partner, though he looked a bit older, and he carried himself much more at ease than Detective Masen.
I wasn't stupid; I was completely aware that Jasper put himself into a situation that got him busted. I'd told him over and over that James was bad news. It was why I'd quit The Inferno in the first place, because it was riddled with drugs and prostitution and guns and bullshit. At the time, I'd needed the money.
Steeling myself for Masen's emotionless demeanor, I walked to the table at which he and his partner had seated themselves.
"The coffee here is good, Detective, but…" I said sarcastically, glancing to his partner, who chuckled a little.
"Miss Swan," Masen greeted. "We need to ask—"
My nostrils flared and my eyes narrowed on his face, but his partner interrupted him.
"We need to order food, Edward. Then you can charm her with your winning wit and personality."
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me as I looked to the other man. "You, I like. Welcome to Common Ground. What can I get you?"
"Yes! For once, the prettiest girl in the room isn't blinded by you," the partner said to an eyerolling Masen. "The name's Garrett."
"Detective. Bella Swan," I greeted, nodding once and waiting for his order.
"Oh, damn," he said through a sigh, glancing between me and his partner.
Once they'd ordered their breakfast and I put it in for Eleazar, I checked on Alice. She was sneering at the cops in the corner.
"Easy. Yes, it's him."
"You know, for such a pretty man, he's an ass."
Grinning, I nodded. "Ignore them. I think they're here for me. I need to know if you need a place to stay, Ali."
"No, I'm okay. I'm staying with my sister, Cynthia," she replied, taking a bite of pancakes drenched in syrup and butter. "For now, I'm good."
"Okay, but I want you back here tomorrow. I'm taking you to the doctor."
She nodded, taking a sip of milk. "I hear you. I'll be here."
Eleazar called that food was up, and I went to get it, taking it back to the detectives.
"Thank you, Bella," Garrett sang, gesturing to the chair across from them. "Can you join us? We do need to ask you a few questions."
Nodding, I walked away to pour myself a cup of coffee, quickly adding cream and sugar. I took a seat across from the two of them.
"What more could you possibly need to know?" I asked them softly. "Look, I try not to bring my brother's bullshit into this place, but today, I seem to be overrun with it. So what now?"
Masen's nose wrinkled, and he sipped his coffee. "This isn't really about your brother. Do you know a Maria Navarro?"
My eyebrows shot up. "Jasper's ex? Well, ex but complicated." I waved that away. "Yeah, I know her. I worked with her at The Inferno. She's a dumpster fire of problems. I tried to give her a job once, but after her first payday, she never showed back up."
"How long ago was that?" Garrett asked before taking a bite of his toast.
"Couple weeks back."
The two of them shared a look, but Masen grimaced. "She was found this morning, dead in the park off First Street."
My mouth fell open. "What? How?"
"Her throat was cut," Garrett said softly. "She was wearing a shirt from here."
Swallowing thickly, I now understood why they were here. "I honestly hadn't heard from her since her last shift. I can get you dates, but…"
"Nah, not yet."
"She was also holding. Heroin."
"That's no shocker. She was the one who got Jazz hooked," I told them, eyeing Masen. "I tried to tell you that back then."
"I know, Miss Swan—" Edward started, frowning down at the table.
"Just…Bella."
"I know, Bella, but you need to understand how deep in it all your brother was," he told me. "I know you think Jasper is a victim—"
"I don't think he's a fucking victim. I think he needs help. I've tried repeatedly to get him into the jail rehab program, but they continuously shut me down."
"Here's the thing, Bella," Masen muttered, wiping his mouth with a napkin and sitting forward. "Jasper's arrest threw a wrench in James Hunt's sales. He's the biggest distributor of hard-core drugs in Seattle. He lost his product and his money that day."
"Jazz was just a petty dealer," I hissed their way. "Not this…kingpin you think he is. He's an addict, but he's also a broken boy."
Garrett sighed. "We get that. We were just checking on a lead – the shirt."
"You worked at Inferno for how long?" Masen asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
"Too long. Three years." I tilted my head at him. "I wasn't a stripper, though you seem to be trying to imagine it. I was a server." I gestured around my shop. "I brought that knowledge here, without the drugs and rape and the nasty owner."
"I didn't mean…" Masen raked a hand through his hair, and it merely fell back in the same place with a few locks sticking up everywhere.
He was extraordinarily handsome, but he had the personality of a teaspoon. Or maybe I was holding grudges from when he'd blown me off about Jasper. He took everything so black and white. Or maybe I was too emotional about it. His deep-green eyes looked contrite for brief second.
"Look, I get it. My brother is trouble. Hell, he might always be trouble, and you think by proxy that everyone he knows is garbage. Less than. I assure you, I'm not less than anything."
"Bella, no one said—" Masen started, but I interrupted him.
"You didn't have to say it, Detective. It's how you interviewed me back then, how you blew off everything I tried to tell you, and it's how you assumed about my life just now. Trust me, I've worked hard to get here and keep my family together after all sorts of shit." I stood up, tearing their check out of my pad and tossing it down onto the table. "This one's not on me. Are we done?"
Both of them nodded, and I walked away.
"Goddamn, you can piss off some people," I heard Garrett tease his partner.
"Yeah, only that's my new landlord that I've pissed off."
I went into the kitchen at the sound of Garrett's laughter, slamming my office door behind me.
~oOo~
A/N… I'd like to thank DrivingEdward, Sunshine1220, maplestyle, suebee, poweredby23kicks – all for pre-reading this story, because I needed all the feedback I could get with this story. And a huge thank you to LizziePage for the stunning banner. And of course, JenRar, who does all the cleaning up.
This will most likely post on Tuesdays. I had originally considered Wednesdays, but this works better. And it will be in addition to and opposite of When Angels Fall.
This fic doesn't have a playlist. Well, it does, but it's really for me. And it's kind of a dark playlist, angry. LOL
Okay, so no matter what you're reading of mine, I'll see you next week. Until then… Mooches, Deb ;)