"Welcome to Los Angeles Detective Superintendent Gibson. I wish it was under better circumstances."
Ed announced in the middle of the department conference room. He extended a handshake to Stella and she responded with a polite thank you, meeting his hand with hers.
Sam had taken Stella to the evidence locker earlier; then a visit to the lab to review the results the forensics unit collected from the crime scenes and now they were in the department conference room exchanging small talk with fellow detectives and officers.
Ed's appearance was haggard, a distinction that many seasoned law enforcement officers carried.
"DS is fine, sir, and I'm not sure I'd be here otherwise. But truly, I'm confident Detective Hodiak and I will find our perpetrator and stop this madness."
Sam's eyebrow lifted at her mention of his name. His internal rolodex of Stellaisms told him she had just complimented him.
"Yeah, our guy here," nodding at Stella but pointing at Sam, "he's all right; just remind him to play by the rules, will you?"
"You're in luck, Captain; rules are my specialty."
They carried on their conversation as they walked back to Ed's office. Sam followed Stella while Ed led the way. The phone rang as soon as they entered the small office space and Ed rushed around the desk, cursing under his breath as he grabbed the receiver.
"Cutler," he said sharply, picking up the phone and holding it to his ear.
With a series of yeah's , and I see's , and an even redder face, he covered the mouthpiece and spoke to Sam and Stella, "We're done." More nods directed to the speaker on the other end and a final wave of his hand ended their time together. Sam winced to himself at Ed's lack of office decorum, but then again, he suspected Stella had dealt with much worse.
As they turned to leave, Stella leaned into his chest and he tipped his head down; she whispered sarcastically, "Cheerful chap." He softly chuckled and offered a silent nod in agreement. He enjoyed the close proximity her hushed declaration provided; her perfume lingering at his nose a bit longer as she pulled away to leave Ed's office.
They rounded the corner and into the hallway that led them to Sam's unit. However, before they could make it to Sam's desk, they were suddenly stopped and greeted by a pretty blonde officer.
"Detective Hodiak, hello, Sir."
"Hello Amy, how is everything?"
Stella looked the young officer up and down, sizing her petite frame and wide-eyed optimism as she spoke to Sam. Stella wasn't the jealous type, she never needed to be, but something crept into her as she watched the young Officer speak to Sam.
Sam turned to Stella and introduced her, "Amy, this is DS Stella Gibson, she's come all the way from the UK to catch this guy." Sam smiled at Stella and if she was amused or warmed by his introduction he couldn't tell, her demeanor was cold.
Amy smiled and reached out her hand to greet Stella, "Hello ma'am, um, DS Gibson."
"Nice to meet you. Amy, is it?"
"Yes ma'am if you need anything while you're here, please don't hesitate to let me know."
The pretty young officer continued, turning to Sam as she spoke, "Detective Hodiak is a great detective, he is one of our best, I know you will find the killer in no time."
Stella watched as Amy beamed up at Sam, she obviously fancied him and Stella couldn't tell if he was oblivious to the young woman's admiration or if he was flattered and was playing coy, although she suspected the former.
"Wonderful, thank you, Amy. I might take you up on that." Stella said nonchalantly.
Stella was confident in her ability to stay level-headed when it came to matters of the heart. If anything she was overly laissez-faire, but something about Sam had her wandering into the territory of caring about what he might think of the young woman. Did he think Amy was pretty? Would he fuck her, taking his time or doing it quickly, leaving her begging for more?
She grew increasingly agitated at herself and the situation and quickly excused herself, walking past them without another word. She needed air.
Sam was caught off guard by Stella's sudden exit. He cleared his throat and turned to Amy, who, by the look on her face, was equally confused.
"Sir, did I offend her?"
"No, no, not at all. I'm sure it's nothing," he said, not really looking at her while he spoke, instead eyeing Stella's back as she made her way out of the department.
Before he could follow her out, a loud shout resonated through the department from Ed's office. "Hodiak!"
Ed sounded agitated, and Sam braced himself for whatever was to follow. He whispered an exasperated, "Oh shit," and excused himself from Amy. He waved at Ed who huffed out several expletives- all the while rubbing his reddened face.
Stella would have to wait, he thought as he made his way toward Ed's office.
"Look, Sam, I got a call from HQ, they want to assign this case to Foothill considering the last two victims were recovered in Angeles National Forest."
"That's bullshit, Ed and you know it."
"Yeah, it's bullshit. But not much I can do about it."
Sam stood with his hands on his hips, poised and ready to argue all of the reasons why it was completely ridiculous to switch departments in the middle of an active investigation, but Ed, clearly more agitated by the minute- didn't give him the opportunity. Instead, Ed continued, speaking to Sam in a stern voice.
"Sit down Sam," Ed demanded, but Sam ignored his directive. "Don't go getting all sanctimonious on me yet." He shuffled through some papers on his desk as he shook his head. "You are still the lead on this case, with Gibson, of course, but I'm temporarily reassigning you to Foothill. This fucking bureaucracy." He mumbled the last bit, sighing loudly.
"You know Ed, this has the AD office written all over it. It's all about image for them." Sam paced back and forth in the small office.
"You and Stella need to report to your new duty station by noon today. They have a team assembled there and will wait for your brief. They got the Sheriff involved too."
"Oh fuck, Ed. Not the Sheriff. This is turning into a cluster."
"Gets worse; apparently the London Metropolitan Police are considering sending someone else to assist. I get the feeling Gibson is on a short leash."
He took a seat now, more focused on the implications Ed had offered up.
"Look, Ed; I haven't been around her long enough to know everything about her, but she's a good police officer. Part of me wonders if it's not a woman in a man's world type of situation."
"Yeah, I trust you, Sam. I'm trying to stall them. I will let you know if anything changes. Just keep your noses clean and catch this fucking psycho, will you."
Sam nodded in frustration. Throwing his head back, he sighed out an audible "fucksakes" and left Ed's office focused on gathering all the evidence and information he had on the case-prepared to brief his new team.
Stella reached the precinct's front doorway to the civilian lobby and waited for the office clerk to buzz her out. As she exited to the outside, the street was bustling with activity. Pacing up and down the sidewalk, she tried to settle her thoughts on the case. Time wasn't on their side and with every passing moment, they gave the killer more room to seek out another victim. She hated waiting, hated being patient and hated not taking what she wanted.
All three of these hindrances seemed to be at the forefront at the moment, and she became increasingly agitated. She swung around for another lap of the sidewalk and spotted Sam stepping out from the precinct, clearly looking for her, and clearly worried. She walked toward him, meeting him half-way, ready to jump back into the case.
"You okay, Gibson?"
She only nodded and offered no other explanation for her quick departure. Sam dropped it for now as he had bigger things to discuss with her.
The new arrangement wasn't a roadblock yet, he thought. But it was a reminder that their case had the attention of some very higher-ups. The Los Angeles DA's office wanted a conviction and keeping tabs on Sam was the insurance policy they needed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce that Stella's own department felt the same way. This was a high profile case and the pressure was on them both. He needed Stella, and she needed him.
An unlikely partnership, but a good one no less.
His thoughts settled as he stood facing Stella now. "I have some news. I can explain on the way." Swinging his arm out, he gestured toward the police parking lot where his black SUV was parked. They walked in silence; both detectives had two things on their mind—the case and each other. Sam had wanted to broach her in conversation about what had made her leave abruptly but assumed this wasn't the right time. Instead, he decided to focus on the case and the new arrangements that had been made.
As they approached the vehicle, he pressed the keyless remote and they both entered the black SUV. A few seconds later, Stella broke the silence that had settled between them.
"Okay, Sam, what do you have to tell me?" In an inquisitive tone- as she fastened her seatbelt.
"Well partner, looks like we've been reassigned, but the good news is our new precinct is only nineteen minutes away and the drive is along a beautiful stretch of highway."
Sam moved the gearshift in reverse and Stella watched as he reached with his right arm for the back of her seat headrest. Ignoring the back up camera, he looked over his right shoulder and backed out of the parking spot with ease. She liked how his open posture toward her made her feel warm all over; her attraction for him intensifying with every exchange.
17 hours earlier
Angeles National Forest, Wrightwood, CA
It was five o'clock and Don Barns walked to the front of his hardware store to lock up for the day. He'd been in business for thirty years and shutting down at five every day was a luxury of owning his own business. Moments after he turned the lock on his store, a young man appeared at the front door and banged on the glass storefront door.
Thump. Thump.
Somewhat startled, Don was about to shoo the young man away, but quickly recognizing him, he let him in.
"Hi, Mr. Barns. Sorry I know it's a little past closing time, but I just need a few things."
"Well look who the cat dragged in. I didn't know you were back in the area."
"Yes, sir, I am back at the cabin; I just need a few supplies. It's a mess."
"Sure, sure. It's always good to see you. I'm just gonna lock up while you shop. Just bring what you need to the counter when you're done, and I will check you out."
Don hobbled back to the counter, wincing a bit and placing his hand at his lower back and the young man noticed.
"You okay Mr. Barns?" he asked as he picked up some duct tape.
"Oh yeah, you know old age. Nothing I can't handle."
The young man smiled curiously at Don. "You know Mr. Barns, you can retire." He placed two large tarps in his cart.
"Ahh yeah, but then who would stay open later for you?" he chuckled as he reached the counter. Pressing the register to start counting his till box.
The young man continued shopping. Matches, 40 ft. small twine rope, two hammers, and a bag of cheetos from the counter. As he placed the items one by one on the counter, Don scanned each item and placed them in shopping bags.
"Okay, you are all set; that will be sixty-three fifty, but for you, last-minute shopping discount, fifty even." The young man laughed and handed Don the exact amount.
Don gave the young man his bag of items.
"Thanks again, Mr. Barns. I appreciate you."
As the young man turned around to leave, he reached in his pocket awkwardly. Don made his way around the counter to walk the young man out in order that he could lock the door behind him. As he reached the vicinity of him, the young man pulled his hand out of his pocket and handed Don a coin.
"Here you go, Mr. Barns. It's a coin; I picked it up on my travels in Europe."
"Well now, that's mighty kind of you."
Don made his way to the front of the store and unlocked the door, opening it to let the young man out.
"Thanks again, Mr. Barns; have a good evening." He waved at Don as he stepped through the door.
"No problem. Oh, and Jimmy. Make good choices."
He closed and locked the door, changing the 'We're open' sign to 'We're closed.' He walked back to the counter with the coin in his hand, shrugging at the odd gift.
The fifteen minute drive afforded Sam the opportunity to discuss their new arrangement and Stella nodded, listening attentively.
"It all sounds rather obtuse," Stella asserted. "But I'm no stranger to politics Sam. At the very least we still have each other, no sense in getting to know another Yank."
He chuckled and stole a glance at Stella. The corner of her mouth slightly raised, bared a slight resemblance to a smile.
"We wouldn't want that." Sam responded.
"So tell me Sam, what do you do for fun?" Stella asked and his eyebrows raised in surprise at the subject change.
He noticed it in her demeanor as well. Shifting in her seat, he could feel her eyes on him. If he didn't know any better, he would say she was interrogating him.
"I like to exercise in the morning," Gesturing with his hand in the open. "I use a punching bag. I probably don't have to tell you why."
"Hmm," she hummed in response.
"And you, Stella? What do you do? For fun, that is?" Sam asked, intrigued. He liked Stella, but something told him to play it cool with her, or he would be playing with fire.
His eyes were fixated on the road as he spoke and there was a hint of gravel in his tone that Stella recognized right away. She understood the implications of his lower vocal tone.
But Stella was tired of playing it safe, keeping someone at arm's length. She could do both. Why couldn't she?
Catch a killer and then catch herself a detective.