The Detective and the Tech Guy
Author: Steampunk . Chuckster
Rating: T
Summary: A case of mistaken identity and murder brings Sarah Walker, Pinkerton agent, to sunny California. Protecting the heir to the Bartowski Electronics Corporation should be just business - but Chuck Bartowski fills out a suit nicely and makes a mean martini. Chuck lobbied to hire the Pinkerton Agency, but had no idea the detective they'd send would be as alluring, intelligent and fascinating as Sarah Walker. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man movies.
Disclaimer: No money is being made from this story. I don't own Chuck or The Thin Man series.
Author's Note: I'm just sad and exhausted. It's been very difficult to get stuff written, but the good news is when I can sit down and actually get my brain working, writing about the detective and the tech guy is a nice escape for a little while. Hope you enjoy part 4 of "The Detective and the Tech Guy Versus the ExoBand"!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The Detective and the Tech Guy Versus the ExoBand, Part 4
Sarah put the pencil she'd taken from Detective Casey's pencil case down on the desk nearest her with a clack that made one of the officers nearest her jump a little. She pretended she didn't see it.
"Okay, we're missing something here," she said, looking up at the board.
"Ya think?" Detective Cutlet snarked as he leaned his chair back. Detective Rizzo slipped her foot under the leg and lifted, making him freak out and shove himself forward so that he didn't fall back and crack his head. Everyone chuckled at him as he made a face at his fellow detective and she just smirked and crossed her arms.
Sarah ignored the antics and turned back to the board. "We've gone up and down the list of family, friends, coworkers, employees, even minor everyday contacts like the people they buy their coffee from. We've been through it ten times. In Van Sant's case, we checked out defendants he won against in trial. Nothin'." She turned back to Casey. "We sure none of these folks down here are connected to each other at all?" she asked, gesturing to the dozens of names and pictures they'd pasted beneath the victims' pictures at the top, drawing an invisible line between the two sides with her finger.
"Sure, they're connected. Just nothin' between the victims' contacts." He stood up and grabbed a dry erase pen, popping the cap off and drawing lines between the two groups. He shrugged and erased the lines he drew. "We got no leads. Nothin's stickin'."
Sarah picked up the pencil and began playing with it again, sliding up to sit on the edge of the desk, careful to cross her legs appropriately in the straight-line skirt she wore. "Anybody have any ideas on finding leads?"
"We can bring in the husband again," Rizzo said. "Greta's ex-husband I mean."
"We might have to," Sarah agreed. "I mean, think about two of the biggest motives for murder, right?"
"Sex and money," Cutlet piped up, actually paying attention and seeming to take it seriously this time.
"Exactly," she said, pointing to him with the pencil. She thumped the eraser against her chin thoughtfully. "So if we follow the sex angle…"
"Don't seem too likely. She and the uncle were real close. He was like 'er dad. She worked late hours at the restaurant, came in early. He said he didn't think she had the time or energy for a lover," Casey grunted. "I followed that lead already, came up with nothin'. No flowers or jewelry, no mysterious numbers on 'er phone. Her planner didn't have anythin' in it, either."
Sarah nodded. "Right. So what are the odds it has to do with money?"
"Think both of 'em have to do with money?" Cutlet asked, scratching his stubble he hadn't shaved that morning. Like the rest of them, Sarah thought, he was probably having trouble sleeping, going nuts thinking about this case. Casey had told her in confidence that Reggie Cutlet's daughter Priscilla was going to law school and she thought maybe Leonard Van Sant's career in law and the potential that he'd been killed over that career was probably wrecking the guy's psyche.
"Could be. I keep leaning towards someone who wanted revenge over a case outcome for Van Sant, though." When he looked doubtful, she thrusted her hand out. "Come on. The guy was a criminal prosecutor. They're always going through life with targets on their backs. Sometimes…" She huffed and shook her head. "Sometimes someone takes aim and hits the target."
"She's right," Rizzo said. "Detective I was dating worked a case in Philly a few years ago. Criminal prosector got shot down in the street by some mobster's brother after he made a solid enough case for a jury to convict the mobster. They get roughed up, or the political hit jobs come in."
"Revenge is too easy," Cutlet said.
"Maybe it is easy," Casey responded. "We don't know. 'Cause there's nothin' we can find that leads to any kinda motive for either of the murders."
"So how do we even know they're connected, then? I keep askin' this and you keep talkin' up that movie, boss," Rizzo said, sending Casey a look. "We have no evidence they're connected but we're saying they are."
"Strangled in exactly the same way, at exactly the same time, in different locations, a guy in a car waiting for them to come out—and they're both corroborated by multiple witnesses who saw the cars and saw that there were guys waiting behind the wheel, that they thought it was a little weird but didn't want to call the cops when the guys didn't do anything." Casey shrugged. "And I just tossed that movie out there, okay? I never said it was a sure thing. People concoct all sorts o' stupid shit to try to get away with murder, so why not trading murders?"
"Mhm. If a guy shows up who plays tennis and looks like Robert Walker, then we really know we're onto somethin'," Cutlet said in a dry tone.
Sarah shook her head. "That's Farley Granger who plays tennis. Robert Walker is the one who wants his dad's money." She realized belatedly what she'd just said and cleared her throat, ignoring Casey's satisfied smirk as she rushed on. "Look, it isn't entirely out of bounds to think something like that could have happened, but without any evidence, we really don't know they are connected. You're right, Detective Rizzo."
"So why not have two teams, one pursues the Van Sant case, one pursues the Olsen case?" Rizzo shrugged.
"Because I'm your boss and I said we're doin' both of these 'cause they're connected," Casey grumbled.
She sighed and shrugged again. "Fair enough."
"The strangling is the part that gives me the willies," Cutlet said. "It's a really personal, violent, deranged way to murder someone. I mean, I'm not saying the Black Dahlia murder was tame in comparison, but to just stand there with your hands around someone's neck for that long, looking into their face…" He shivered.
"Hence why there's more to this than meets the eye," Sarah said. "I agree, though. It's creepy."
"Yeah, well. The worst part is both of these bastards are still walking around scot-free because we have no leads," Rizzo piped up, climbing up from her chair and turning to face everyone. "Let's bring in that ex-husband again and grill 'im."
"We can't grill 'im, Rizzo," Casey said, rolling his eyes. "He isn't a suspect."
"You know what I mean. Get 'im talking about any issues there might've been between them. Isn't there money involved in a divorce? Who sought to gain money from the settlement? Is there anyone that got fucked over because of the divorce? Do they think it's her fault? Maybe that ex-husband's the next target."
Sarah turned to face the other woman in the small conference room. "There's an idea. Divorces are never as clean-cut as people make them seem on the outside. And there's always some sort of money bullshit going on. Arguments. Lawyers. Yadda yadda. I worked a case when I was with Pinkerton…"
Cutlet and two of the officers near him groaned quietly and Sarah sent them all glares even as she continued.
"Daughter hired a killer who botched the job on her step-mom after her dad's death. She wanted the whole inheritance. She's still sitting in prison for it. Casey, I agree with your detective. I think we should bring Vinton in, see what drama came with the divorce."
"Put out a request to Mark Vinton's lawyer and ask that he bring 'im down here for questioning again," Casey said, and Rizzo nodded, satisfied. She hastened out of the room to do that. "Hey!" She turned back at the doorway. "Make sure he understands he isn't a suspect."
"Got it."
She was gone.
Sarah checked her watch. It was half past four. "I've gotta head out."
"Another case, P.I.?" Cutlet asked.
"Nope."
Neither of the men in the room deserved further explanation than that, so she smirked and headed out of the door, grabbing her bag and shrugging her long coat on. She tugged her hair out of the collar as she passed Rizzo's desk who saluted to her as she sat on the phone. She saluted back and rushed to the elevator, sparing a thought for the fact that she maybe had an ally in this precinct—and a female one, at that.
It took her almost the full half hour she'd planned for to get to Ellie and Awesome's place. And by the time she got out of her car, the Olsen/Van Sant case was all jumbled in her mind and she was stressed by the traffic she'd had to sit through on top of it.
So that when Ellie answered her door, the first thing she said, even before hello, was, "Red wine or white?"
Sarah giggled and sighed in frustration, stepping inside as Ellie opened the door wider for her to come in. She shrugged her coat off and let Ellie take it to hang it on the coatrack by the door. "Saw it on my face, huh? I think a dark-ass red sounds really good right about now."
They hugged tightly and stepped away from one another as Ellie gestured for her to follow her to the kitchen. Sarah had to restrain herself from sprinting to Clara who lay on her mat on the ground, kicking at the little critters dangling from the playpen over her.
"How's Clara?" she asked in lieu of darting towards Chuck's niece.
"Oh, good. She pooped and laughed at me after she did it, so that was cool."
Sarah cracked up, watching as Ellie opened a bottle and began pouring for both of them. "She's got quite the personality."
"I know," Ellie drawled. "And here is your requested wine, my friend." She passed Sarah a glass, they clinked, and both of them sipped it. Sarah's sip was much bigger than the brunette's. "So what's goin' on? Everything okay? Need to talk about it?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Just…traffic. And this case I'm working on with the LAPD is a total shitshow."
"I heeear Saaaraaaah!" Captain Awesome rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen, gathering her up into a back-popping hug. She'd needed the pops and sighed in satisfaction as she hugged him back. When he let her go, he did finger guns at both of the women. "Not to interrupt, but I'm off to the hospital for my shift. El, if Clara says any words, call me immediately, okay?"
"Sweetie, what if you're in surgery?" Ellie asked dryly.
"Surgery schmurgery. Like, don't call me if she says fubbo-boo like 'hey, that sounded like photobooth!' Don't do that." He shrugged. "But if she says Mommyyyy or Daddyyyy or Honorary Auntie Saaaraaah? Call me."
"What if she says asshole?" Sarah asked.
Ellie snorted, almost choking on her wine.
"Then definitely call me."
He chuckled and went in to kiss his wife, before hurrying out to say goodbye to his daughter.
"A case then, huh?" Ellie asked. "A really tough one, or is it, like, a big mess?"
"A tough one. Really tough. Detective Casey's got two of his best detectives on it and I still don't know where in the hell we're gonna get any leads." They both turned to wave as Awesome hurried out the door.
"Well, you can talk to me about it if you want to, but if you wanna get out of that headspace, that's fine too. We can start on the chicken tikka masala."
"Ummmm…" Sarah winced. "I'd like out of that brain hellscape for the night, if you don't mind."
"I do not," Ellie said emphatically. "Let's get curried."
Sarah laughed. "Did you marinate the chicken overnight like the recipe calls for?"
"Psh. Sarah. Please. It's me. Of course I forgot last night and got up at two in the morning to do it."
She laughed again, shaking her head. "You could've just done it this morning when you woke up!"
"Nooo, no. I was already awake thanks to that one needing to eat." She rolled her eyes teasingly, pointing to Clara. As she went into the fridge to take the large bowl with marinating chicken out, Sarah heard a strange beeping sound come from Ellie. "Oh Godddd. What now?"
Sarah frowned, then realized a watch she'd never seen before was on Ellie's wrist. The other woman put the chicken down and flicked at the glowing screen, shaking her hand. "What's that?"
"An ExoBand," Ellie announced grinning like an actress in an infomercial, presenting the watch up by her face.
"The fuck is that?" Sarah mumbled, leaning against the counter.
Snorting, Ellie nodded and began moving around the kitchen, passing Sarah an extra apron. "Exactly what I said when Devon gave it to me as a gift. It's some exercise watch bullshit that I can't even figure out how to work. It's supposed to count my steps or some shit like that, and helps you keep up with an exercise regimen, but I don't know how the hell to even do that. There were no instructions. All I know is that it keeps beeping at me telling me to get off my ass and move."
"In those words?" Sarah laughed.
"No." Ellie gave her a flat look. "But it does this annoying beep and I'm just, like…this crazy person in the corner snapping, 'What?! What do you want now?!' at my wrist." Sarah heard Clara make an excited half-laugh over on her mat. "And someone over there thinks it's hilarious."
Sarah laughed, then gave Chuck's sister an innocent look. "Hey, can I bring her over here?"
Ellie snorted with a giggle and ushered Sarah out of the kitchen with a wave of her hand. With a celebratory fist pump, she rushed over and knelt down next to Clara, leaning over her and flicking the little navy blue dinosaur. Clara was immediately enthralled as it bounced around, playing a little tune.
"Guuggg," she muttered, blowing bubbles. Sarah swiped at her mouth with a cloth and then scooped her up from the mat, propping her on one arm and putting her other hand on Clara's back.
"Here she comes to help us with chicken tikka masala," she announced, bouncing the baby as she moved into the kitchen.
"You just did that so you don't have to help," Ellie teased.
"Not true! I did it so I can squeeze your bundle of joy!" She stopped herself and winced. "That sounded really bad."
Ellie burst out laughing. "I'm really happy for you and my brother—you know, being the perfect couple and all—but I think you might be spending too much time with him. Maybe cool it a little before I start catching you reading comic books or talking about Star Wars, okay?"
"Hey, I was crass before Chuck happened. And I'm proud of it. I just didn't have a lot of opportunities to let my freak flag fly back then."
A look cast over the other woman's face, then, and Sarah wondered if she'd said something wrong…
"If I ask you something, you promise you won't be upset with me?" she asked then, a wince on her face.
"What a way to start a conversation," Sarah said, giggling.
Ellie rolled her eyes at herself. "Yeah, good point. That was a real Mary Bartowski moment. God, Eleanor. Ugh. She always does that, but it was especially bad when I was a teen. She'd give me a long look when I walked into the room then go, 'I am going to ask you something but I don't want you to be mad…' and every single time, I was like, 'Oh God, what now?' Because every time it was about something I was wearing, or some guy I was dating, or or or…" She rolled her eyes again and rummaged around in her spice cupboard. "Sorry, pretend I didn't start it that way. I just know you don't talk a lot about…past stuff."
Sarah's amused look dropped. She felt it. And she distracted herself with shifting Clara from her shoulder to holding her in both arms so she could make faces at her, pretend she wasn't nervous about where this conversation might be going. "No, it's okay, you can ask me," she said, pursing her lips at the baby.
"Did you not have a lot of people? I mean before. Before you came here to keep my dad and brother from being murdered by a psycho."
That was a lot better than she'd feared, so she hit the brunette with a small, quiet smile and shrugged. "I mean, nah. Not really. I had people in Chicago that I was friendly with. It isn't like I was a lone ranger or anything." She sniffed in amusement. "People I saw in my martial arts class on the weeks I was home and not on some case somewhere. I had some of my coworkers who were generally friendly. Honestly, besides the way that job ended and the fact that I wasn't ever promoted or given the pay I deserved—as good as the pay was—only a very select few of the guys resented working with or under a woman agent. They were good. And I liked getting beers with them, playing pool… So I did—I mean, I had people. Just not…like this."
"I get ya," Ellie said, nodding. "It's like spending time with some of my coworkers. Well, more the ones I left behind up in San Francisco. I'm still trying to find my footing in this new hospital down here." She shook her head.
"You will. I don't know anyone more likable than you."
"Oh, please. Chuck's the charm-boat. People are drawn to him like he's some kind of…beacon."
"Eh, he's all right," Sarah teased, wrinkling her nose.
That made the other woman laugh. "I just mean to say, I get the whole idea of…you know these people will have your back when you need 'em, but you can't always be…your true, unfiltered self. You keep stuff in."
"Exactly. I guess I…never had that. Until I made a huge life change and came here. Not that I didn't join in on the bad sex jokes with the Pinkerton fellas. I just mean, you know, in general."
Ellie stopped what she was doing and turned to face her fully, leaning with her palm on the counter and smiling. "Were you happy, though?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm pretty sure I was. In a different way. This is better. But I wasn't like…a miserable loner. I got a lot from my work. It was…kind of…everything. And I was fine with that. It was good."
"Well, I hope you get to a spot with this P.I. agency where you can feel that same amount of fulfillment with your job. On top of whatever it is you get from the rest of us. And Chuck, of course."
"Really, really good sex."
She barked out a laugh as Ellie yelled, "Oh my God! Gross!" and threw a dishtowel at her face. It smacked into her and then fell onto Clara.
She gasped, moving the towel and throwing it back. "You throw something at me when I'm holding your child? For shame!"
"Oh God, it's a towel!"
Sarah eventually put Clara in the crib, which they rolled into the kitchen so that she was nearby. It took some time, but they finally finished making dinner, heated some rice, and sat down to eat at Ellie and Awesome's counter. Ellie insisted they eat there instead of the kitchen table where she'd have to move all of her "scrapbooking crap" for them to eat.
"You know what this needs, besides nothing?" Sarah asked a few minutes into digging into the delicious Indian dish.
Ellie giggled. "What?"
"Mango lassi."
The other woman moaned. "Ohhh, I totally didn't even think of it but that'd be so good right now."
"Right? I mean, it's fine. Next time."
"What we could do…" A mischievous look came over her friend's face then. "And it might interrupt our girls night, so we don't have to, it's just an idea… We could call Chuck and make him bring us some. As a reward, he'd get to eat this amazing food we made."
Sarah laughed. "I thought you told me to spend less time with him."
"Eh. This is about mango lassi. Mango lassi has priority over everything." Clara squeaked in her crib behind them and both women laughed. "Except for my daughter. I guess."
Laughing harder, Sarah reached over and snagged her phone from her purse that she'd set further down the counter when she first arrived. She pulled up Chuck's number and called him.
"I guess I have my answer," Ellie giggled, widening her eyes.
"Mango lassi has priority," she replied with a shrug.
Chuck answered after the third ring. "Well, hello." She felt a smile grow on her face immediately. "What's up, P.I.?"
"Not much. I need your help with a case."
Ellie furrowed her brow, as if asking where she was going with this and Sarah put her finger to her lips to keep her from commenting.
"A case? Ooooo! Wait. Hold on. I thought tonight you were doing dinner and hang-outs with Ellie…"
"Mhm. Hence the case."
"Uh. What?"
She had him properly confused. Good.
"See, we were making dinner, and everything really came out perfectly. Spiced perfectly, the curry is the perfect texture, it's perfectly flavored, I mean…really, it's just perfect." Ellie breathed on her nails and shined them on her sweater, making Sarah have to bite back a snort.
"Uh. Okay…"
"We started eating it and suddenly it hit us: something…" She paused dramatically. "…is missing. I'm a P.I. and all but this is a tough one to crack, Chuck. I need some help. We can't think of what it is. Everything seems fine with the dish."
"Well, uh…what'd you make?"
Sarah put it on speaker phone then and set it down between them. "We made chicken tikka masala."
He groaned. "That sounds amazing."
"That's the thing. It is amazing. There's just something we need. And I can't for the life of me figure out what it is. I mean, it really sounds like a case for the guy I lost a bet to so he gets to be my assistant for a week or so."
"That does sound like a case for me. Wait, a week…or so? Does that mean longer than a week maybe?"
Ellie rolled her eyes silently and Sarah kept a straight face.
"No, that means less than a week maybe."
"Aw, come on," he said, chuckling in spite of her teasing barb.
"So? What are we missing?"
"The curry."
She laughed. "You dork, that's the main part of the dish."
"Oh. Um…I don't know what goes into the dish."
"Well… What if it's something…not in the dish?" She took another bite of the food.
"What's that mean?"
"I don't know," she said with a shrug he couldn't see. "Like maybe something that goes with chicken tikka masala."
"Oh! Naan!"
"Nope, not that."
"Oh. Um…"
"Come on, Chuck. How are you gonna be my assistant if you can't solve this incredibly simple case?"
"Hey! I'm tryin' here, okay?"
Ellie was shoving her fist into her mouth and shutting her eyes tight to keep from laughing.
"Uhhhhhh, a garnish?"
"No. Another strike, Chuck."
"Shit. Maybe some kind of sweet fruit? A sweet fruit or something to take away the spiciness of the Indian food!"
"Hmmm…" Ellie sent her an impressed look and she smirked. "You might be onto something there…but just eating fruit after Indian food? Kinda…eh."
"Oh." His voice was flat as he continued. "You're trying to get me to bring you two mango lassi, aren't you?"
"DING DING DING!" Ellie burst out, and they both laughed.
"You had me on speaker phone? Oooookay, wooooow. Really good way to make me not wanna go out of my way from my office to pick up mango lassi and bring it to Ellie's place. Reeeeally well done, ladies." She could hear in his voice that he wasn't actually upset. She could hear the smile, even as he made himself sound unamused.
"Pllleeeeeeease?" Ellie begged then. "You get chicken tikka masala out of it."
"Clara's there?" he asked after a pause.
"Yep!"
"Oh, hell ya. I'm on my way. Better have a plate waiting for me by the time I get there, too, or I'm drinking all the mango lassi myself."
"On it," Ellie chirped.
Sarah took it off speaker then and scooted off of her stool, moving into the hallway for a little more privacy. "Hi, it's off speaker. Just wanted to say thanks. Didn't mean to tease you so badly."
Chuck laughed. "You two are monsters when you're together and I'm completely fine with it. You don't really need to make me a plate. I can just drop off the drinks and disappear again. Don't wanna intrude on girls night."
"You aren't an intrusion. You're our favorite."
He made a doubtful sound. "I feel like I got bumped down a bit when Ellie met Captain Awesome and had a kid. Which is understandable."
"Hey, that's Ellie. That's not me. You're still in my number one spot," she said, smiling. "And if you bring me an extra large mango lassi I'll do a little extra to prove it."
"Is that an invite to follow you home tonight?"
She hummed out an affirmative and grinned at his celebratory, "Aw yisssss!"
By the time she walked back into the room, Ellie was balancing Clara in her lap as she continued eating. "There is no better image to perfectly demonstrate motherhood than this right here. Shoveling food into my mouth while trying to entertain my child on my lap at the same time," she giggled.
"Have you perfected the fast eating parents always joke about on TV shows?"
"That's real. And yes, yes I have. Devon's less good at it. But that's because he's always been so set on the whole 'slow eating is better for your health' thing. It's hard for him to kick it. Which is okay. We deal." She smirked and ate more food.
But right as she tried to bring a piece of chicken up to her lips, her watch beeped loudly again and made her jump, causing her to drop her fork altogether. It landed on her knee, then cascaded down to clink loudly on the floor. "Fuck!"
That, in turn, made Clara cry.
"Ooooh, no. Clara, Mommy was just surprised. Crap. Sudden noises upset her. I'm sorrry," she tried, hugging her daughter.
Sarah was up in a flash, grabbing a napkin and cleaning up the smear of orange curry on the floor, on the leg of the chair, picking up the chunk of chicken, and handing Ellie another napkin to wipe at the knee of her jeans. "Yeah, you really need to do something about that ExoBand and the sudden beeping."
"I know! I'm about to just tear the piece of crap to bits so it shuts the hell up, stick it in a drawer or something. But I don't wanna hurt Devon's feelings." She huffed and rolled her eyes.
An idea occurred to Sarah as she threw away the dirty napkins and came back around with a new fork for Ellie. "You know, Chuck's all tech-y. That's his thing, isn't it? He loves playing with new tech shit." Ellie snorted and nodded, eyes wide. "And it's sort of his job to know about new technology on the market so B.E.C. can stay relevant. He probably knows about ExoBands, and I bet he'd have fun playing with it."
Ellie twisted her lips to the side. "That might be an idea. Just secretly slip it to my brother to figure out and give me a crash course."
Sarah shrugged. "Sure."
By the time they finished and Ellie began shoveling some onto a plate to warm up for Chuck, the door opened behind them. Sarah turned to watch as her boyfriend walked in with a cardboard drink tray that had three extra large mango lassis sitting snug inside of it. He had another paper bag stuffed under his arm, as well.
"Hey! How are all of my very favorite laaadies?" he sang out as he shut the door with his foot and walked inside. Of course the first thing he did was go to Clara's crib and lean over to make silly faces and sounds at her. A little hand came up to grab at his cheek. "Yes, that's Uncle Chuck!" he chirped.
He stood to his full height and set the drinks on the counter where they'd just been eating. "Mango lassi is here and…ta daaaaaa! For the bonus round, we've got laddu and some chocolate."
Sarah swung out of the kitchen and put a hand on the back of his neck for leverage as she moved up onto her tiptoes and kissed him solidly. She hummed as she pulled back. "You had a laddu on the ride over."
"There were six and now there are five."
She giggled. "That seems fair. Thank you, Chuck. You have no idea how much dinner made me want some mango lassi."
"He's gonna find oooout," Ellie sang as she came out from the kitchen to join them, a steaming hot plate with a giant mound of rice and chicken tikka masala on it. She squeezed his shoulder with her free hand as she leaned around him to set it on the counter. "Dig in, let us know what you think."
"I was going to get fast food because I'm lazy, so I have no doubt this is going to be thirty thousand times better than whatever else I would've ended up eating," he said, eyeing the food hungrily and diving in.
The happy sounds he made were compliment enough, she decided, grabbing her drink from the holder and taking a long drink. It hit the spot.
In fact, she discovered, in spite of the difficult place they were stuck in with the murder cases at Detective Casey's precinct—maybe because of it even—this whole night seemed to hit the spot. She'd been happy enough in Chicago, working for Pinkerton, even without close friends, without family… But she found she'd take this life over that one any day. Every day. And twice on Sundays.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Chuck was doing his best to join in on Clara's bubble-making, but she really just couldn't be competed with.
He finally just wiped her mouth and shook his head.
"You, mademoiselle, are the champion. I throw in the towel. Congratulations. Trophy is forthcoming," he announced, and she giggled at him, kicking her legs and throwing her arms up as though in celebration.
It made him laugh so hard there were nearly tears and he thought he might text Sarah about it…but he decided she didn't need distraction while she was most likely at the police station trying to work on the case with the detectives.
He knew it'd been stressing her out really bad the last week and a half, that things were just barely progressing, and she'd admitted to him that the longer it took them to figure this out, the more likely it was that these murderers got away scot-free.
There was also the fact that he hadn't seen her since he left her apartment the morning after she and Ellie shared their chicken tikka masala with him. And that was three days ago. He knew it was the combination of his work schedule and her case, and it was okay. He just wanted her to get the outcome she needed with this case.
With the added bonus of finding justice for the victims and putting murderers behind bars…of course.
The door opened behind him and he looked up from his spot on the floor to see his sister walk in, looking exhausted.
"Hi! God, Chuck… Devon texted me and said you came to the rescue today when he was called in for an emergency surgery." He pushed himself up to his feet and came to meet her, helping her shrug her jacket off and hanging it up on the coatrack for her. "You're such a good brother and uncle. Thank you." She grabbed his shoulders and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you thank you."
"Hey, Captain Awesome had a life to save. I was just working from home on a little programming stuff. It was really nothing. Glad to do it." He grinned.
"You're still the freaking best." She was a little breathless as she pushed her hair out of her face and headed into the kitchen to wash her hands and also scrub up to her elbows. He knew she did it at the hospital after every patient, and then again when she was leaving, but she was incredibly careful about Clara and he didn't blame her a bit.
"You wanna take a shower or anything before I go? So you don't have to rush through it and can actually enjoy?"
She sent him a look of complete gratitude. "You have nowhere else to be right now?"
He shrugged. "I'm good."
"I owe you," she said, and after she said hello to her daughter, she disappeared to take a shower while he plopped back down and played with Clara.
When her eyes started to close, though, he picked her up and rocked her, walking around the room until she was fast asleep.
And by the time Ellie walked back into the room wearing her pajamas, he had Clara in her crib, practically snoring she was so far gone.
"You're really good at that," she whispered as she came up to stand next to him, peering down at her daughter.
Then she cupped his elbow and he turned to look at her. She gestured for him to move away from the crib with a quick flick of her head and they went to sit on the couch. She thrust her hand out towards him. "Do you know what the hell to do with this?" she asked.
Chuck blinked at her, then looked down. In her palm was a smart watch of some kind, sleek and less bulky than the ones he'd seen before, and as he picked it up and turned it over to look at, he recognized it from a convention he'd gone to a year ago. "Ooooh wowwww, is this an ExoBand?' he asked.
"You know it?"
"Yeah! It's gonna revolutionize personalized work-outs. I mean, exercise will never be the same with this thing."
"Uhhhh, I believe it. My eardrums will never be the same after the dumb thing wouldn't stop beeping the other night, making Clara scream until I literally unscrewed and removed the back. That was a reeeeeally great night for us."
Chuck winced. "Yikes. It wouldn't stop beeping? Why?"
"I don't know. You tell me," she said sarcastically, shrugging and glaring at it. "Devon bought it for me, and I know he meant well but, like…one, I don't have time to exercise, and two…I hate things that yell at me for sitting too long. I fucking work at a hospital, if I wanna spend my day off on my ass watching TV, I will, and it can go fuck itself if it wants me to do otherwise."
His eyes widened. "Okay. Well. Message received."
"Can you maybe…I don't know, take it out of here? Quiet-like, I mean."
Chuck frowned at her in confusion. "What do you—Ooooh," he said as he figured it out. "This was a gift from Awesome and you don't want him to know you hate it."
"I'd like it better if I knew how to use it. If I knew how to make the beeping stop. If I could mold it to what I want it to do and not the other way around. That's where I hoped you might come in."
"Are you asking me to take this off your hands and play with it?"
"Yes." He threw his fists up in celebration. "But! There's a catch." He lowered his arms and winced. "You need to then teach me how to use it once you figure it out, please. And then give it back."
"Done. Deal. Yes. Radical. I'm so excited."
"If you wanted one of these so bad, why didn't you get one?" she asked him then.
Chuck shook his head. He'd been so tempted a few times. And it wasn't like he couldn't afford one… But…well… "Honestly, I'd get lost in it and become some sort of fitness freak. I don't have the willpower you have. It'd be worse than video games, and I'm honestly kinda…good with just going for a jog a few days a week and doing some weights at HQ once a week. You know?"
"Smart." She nodded. "Thank you for doing this."
"You got it."
He held its weight in his hand. So lightweight. So sleek. God, he wanted one. But he would have to be okay with playing with Ellie's. He'd figure it out, learn every bit of it, and reconvene with his sister in secret to give it back and teach her how to use it. Maybe he could write up a little manual. She'd like that.
But he had an ExoBand to play with now and he couldn't wait.
He just couldn't wait.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The room was silent for a few seconds, and then the police detective sighed and looked across the table into the face of the other man.
"Look, Mark. You've been very cooperative, coming down here for questioning as often as you have. And we appreciate that."
He nodded. And then he cleared his throat. "Sure, we might not have…had the greatest divorce." He squirmed in his chair and fixed his glasses. "And it's true, we didn't. But I want her murderer brought to justice."
Casey nodded gruffly and Sarah shifted to the side a little to make room for Detective Rizzo so that all three of them could watch and listen to the monitors as their superior interviewed Mark Vinton, the ex-husband of one of their victims.
"I've answered all of your questions to the best of my knowledge."
"Right. You have. But I've got more questions. For instance, as your ex-wife, she's entitled to alimony, isn't she?"
Vinton frowned a little. "Y-Yes, of course. And I paid it, every last bit of it. I was never late. I never argued with her about it."
"Mhm. I see that in her bank records. There's something that's interesting here, though."
"What?" The other man pushed a hand through his hair as though to smash it down on his head better, keep it from sticking out everywhere.
"She received quite a bit more money from you than was agreed upon in the courts, though. And we did a little digging, Mark… This money is from the fortune your parents left you and your brother, Brian."
He cleared his throat. "It's mine. What I gave her was my money, legally, and she-she needed it. So what's the harm in that? She had the restaurant and, in spite of things not ending well, I still felt like I needed to take care of her."
The way he was squirming in his chair set off quite a few warning bells, Sarah thought to herself. Rizzo pointed at the screen then with a, "He did it. He killed her."
"Sh!" Cutlet sent her a glare and she shrugged.
"Nobody is accusin' you of anything, Mark." Casey held his hands up at his shoulders, then calmly set them on top of the table again, palms down. "I just wanna know what the money was for. And why it was so much. And why she got it every month. But in a different amount each time. Wanna know what I think?"
Mark Vinton didn't look like he really wanted to know what Casey thought.
"This sorta looks like you gave her some when she asked you…this big amount here, at the beginning…" Casey slid the bank account report across towards Mark and pointed to it. "And then she just…decided the next month she wanted more. You gave it to her. The next month, she demanded more…And so on. Know what that usually tells me?"
"Blackmail," Sarah whispered. The other two agreed, Rizzo with a, "mmmhm" and Cutlet with a snap and a finger pointed at her.
"That I'm a giving ex-husband. That I care about her well-being and wanted her to be able to get her business off the ground."
"We can go with that. Or we can go with what situations like this usually turn out to be. She knew something and she held it over your head. So you dug into your inheritance from your parents' fortune."
The way Greta Olsen's ex-husband paled was exactly what they'd been angling for when they brought him back in for questioning.
Sarah hadn't seen any of the evidence they'd collected, nor had Casey filled her in on any of it. He'd called her to hurry up and get to the station so she could be there for when he "grilled the ex", because he thought he found something. So she'd rushed over, and she'd gotten there right when Casey sat Vinton down at the table, assured by Rizzo that she hadn't missed anything.
She was really glad she hadn't missed this.
"That isn't true."
"It isn't? This looks bad, Mark. See, your ex-wife is blackmailing you and then she ends up dead?" Casey hissed through his teeth. "I mean, unless you can give me more than what we've got, this alone is a pretty shiny motive."
"N-No, that isn't…Motive? I didn't—I would never hurt her. Our divorce—I didn't want it. I didn't even want to get divorced," he said, leaning forward. "I was in love with her. The divorce was all her. I told her we could work it out, that I'd fix things. But she was too…Well, it was her pride. Greta was always so…proud." He let out a half-sob.
"Fix what, Mark?" Casey asked. "Did you do something that made Greta ask for a divorce?"
"She didn't ask. She told me. Didn't even give me a chance to…to make it right. To prove I still loved her. I still love her. I'd never…I wouldn't hurt a single hair on her head."
"Answer the question, Mark. What'd you do?"
"It, uh, it was an…it was an affair." His eyes darted to the side just enough that Sarah was sure there was more to it. "I was sleeping with someone else." Perhaps it was shame…but shame had a different look than when someone was hiding something.
"She found out you were having an affair and she divorced you for it."
"Yes. I made a mistake."
Casey grunted. "Quite a mistake if she blackmailed you about it. You really don't want an affair getting out that much? You paid her $130,000 on top of the check she got for alimony. That's a lot of money to keep a simple affair quiet, Mark."
"I have a-a reputation to uphold."
"Mhm. The museum probably wouldn't let someone who had an affair continue doing research for 'em, huh? Think the high school would fire you?" Casey's tone was probably a little more mocking than was necessary, but he was hitting on something.
"Hey, I'm technically not allowed back there I'm assuming," Sarah rushed out when a thought hit her. "Can one of you grab Casey so I can talk to him real quick?"
"I dunno. Can I?" Cutlet snarked.
"You're a jackass," Rizzo muttered, walking around him to move down the hallway.
Sarah ignored the immature detective and kept her gaze on the screen as the far door to the room opened. Rizzo silently gestured for Casey to join her, holding the door open as Casey excused himself and followed her.
He reappeared down the hallway, walking shoulder to shoulder with the brunette.
Casey didn't bother with any 'hello' or proper greeting, not that she expected he would. "What is it? You got somethin'?"
"Maybe," Sarah said. "There's no way in hell he's hiding an affair with this kind of blackmail price tag. So either he's lying and she was blackmailing him about something else, or there is a lot more to this so-called affair than he's letting on."
"Same thought I had," Casey responded.
"So…what? Is he sleeping with some mayor or city council member? The Queen of England?" Cutlet asked. "Nobody'd want that shit getting out."
"But then wouldn't Greta blackmail that person and not her ex? They're the one with the most to lose, not some high school teacher who does research for some boring museum," Rizzo said.
"You're right," Sarah murmured under her breath, leaning back against the cabinet behind her and crossing her arms. "I dunno, Detective Casey. Maybe if you just keep pressing him, he'll snap. Because if he wanted an affair kept hidden that bad, it either was something that could mean losing his position, or…I dunno, maybe it's something he did that's illegal, and not an affair. Nobody wants to go to prison, even if it means catching his ex-wife's killer. Whether he still loved her or not."
Casey nodded. "I've got it. Goin' back in."
Sarah watched him retreat, then turned to the screen as Rizzo stepped up next to her to watch again.
"Was just on the phone with a friend of mine, Mark," he said as he walked back in. She saw the teacher's Adam's apple bob. "Greta was blackmailing you. And…" He paused dramatically. "…we know why." Mark Vinton paled significantly and his hands starting quivering. "So the question I have is this. Would you rather be arrested for the murder of your ex-wife Greta Olsen? Or would you rather confess to the other crime you committed and get yourself off the hook for murder?"
"Oh, shit. That's a helluva bluff," Cutlet breathed, sitting up straighter in his chair.
"Gutsy, boss," Rizzo added.
It was gutsy, and it could easily blow up in Casey's face. It'd be worse if Mark had asked his lawyer to join him in the room. But he hadn't. His lawyer wasn't even in the building.
"I-I didn't murder her! I didn't!"
"We have all of this evidence here that she blackmailed you, Mark. And she ended up murdered. That's the easiest way to stop a blackmailer from blackmailing, pal."
"I couldn't let it get out, but I was-I was all right with paying her! I had the money! I would never kill someone! I would never kill someone I loved!"
"Couldn't let what get out?"
"I can't." Tears were starting now as he pushed his hand into his hair and twisted it in his fist. "I can't say. Please don't make me. It was a mistake. I know that."
"A mistake isn't quite as bad as cold-blooded murder, Mark."
"I can't—"
"TELL ME!" Casey bellowed. "YOU WANNA SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE BEHIND BARS?"
"No!"
"WHAT DID SHE HAVE ON YOU?!"
"AN AFFAIR! I TOLD YOU!"
"WITH WHO?"
Casey had broken him. She saw the snap in Mark Vinton's face, and he slammed his hand on the desk. "A student! One of my students, okay? It was only a few-a few times! She wasn't supposed to see it. Greta wasn't supposed to be at the school. She was supposed to be on her way to Vancouver for a business trip." He covered his face as Sarah turned to exchange looks with the other two.
"Shit," she breathed.
"Yoooou said it, sister." Detective Rizzo shook her head, eyes wide.
"How old was the student, Mark?" Casey asked, sitting back down in the chair, cool as a cucumber, as if that information hadn't fazed him for a second.
"She was seventeen. A senior in one of m-my classes."
"Greta walked in on you with her?"
He nodded, miserable. "Y-Yeah."
"Kissing?"
Mark's face crumbled and he shook his head. "M-More than that."
Cutlet let out a long whistle. "Well, he's goin' to prison," he chirped.
"You're gonna wanna call your lawyer, Mark. I'll leave you to your own thoughts for a bit and then we'll take you to a phone."
Mark just nodded, covering his face and hunching forward, his body wracked with sobs.
Casey came back out and blinked. "Well, that was unexpected."
"I get the $130,000 now," Sarah breathed.
"So he told you that," Rizzo said, "And I mean, statutory rape is pretty awful, and we need to take that seriously, but…his ex-wife and the student are the only ones who knew about it besides him. All he had to do was knock his ex-wife outta the picture and that left his victim, the student."
"And?"
"And he still isn't off the hook for the murder of Greta Olsen, boss. She was blackmailing him about statutory rape, for fuck's sake. You don't think he'd wanna bump her off for that?"
"Yep." He nodded. "He's definitely gonna need his lawyer. That said, he was absolutely one hundred percent not even in California when Greta Olsen was murdered. He couldn't have strangled her himself. So…" He shrugged.
"Who did?" Sarah finished for him.
This was such a messy case. And it seemed every bit of evidence they got made it that much messier.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
She really tried not to make a habit of showing up at Chuck's place without at least texting him, but sometimes it didn't even occur to her. She'd lived there for a few months. But more than that, wherever he was felt like a home, somewhere she was always welcome, so she tended to just take her key out and walk right in.
The texting thing actually did occur to her this time, but she was already in the elevator up to the floor he owned by the time it did, so she just kept her phone in her bag and took her keys to his place out.
For a moment, she let herself dwell on what all of that mess must've been like for Greta Olsen—Vinton at the time. She couldn't imagine walking in and finding the person she loved with a minor like that. It was bad enough walking in on your partner cheating, but…statutory rape? Then again, she wasn't entirely free from blame in the situation. Instead of going to the police, she'd helped her husband hide it, and then she'd blackmailed him for money. It was horrible. All of it.
Maybe the ill feeling in her gut was why she'd guided her car here to Chuck's condo instead of going straight home, showering, and burying herself in her bed. She needed some good in her night. She needed to feel the safety and security of her own sturdy, healthy relationship surrounding her like a warm blanket.
Sarah'd left the precinct soon after Vinton's confession. She would leave Casey and his detectives to the rest of that. And they'd go from there tomorrow.
She just needed a martini and the comfort of Chuck's—Well, the comfort of Chuck. Just being around him.
She didn't want to give him the details, she decided as she stuck her key in the door and let herself in. It would make her feel terrible again, and she'd have to watch his reaction, too, which would do something else bad to her heart.
The lights were on in the condo, and as she scanned the main room, she saw he was sitting at his table, hunched over something. A sense of ease and peace swept through her and she knew immediately she'd made a really good decision coming here instead of going home where she'd be alone.
Chuck looked up and grinned. "Heeey! Long time no see."
Sarah groaned and let her bag drop onto the couch as she made her way over to him. "I knooooow. This case has been destroying my free time." He stayed put in his chair so that she could just wrap herself around his shoulders from behind and hug him tight. She felt his lips against her cheekbone and turned her face into his neck, kissing him there and just clinging, humming in contentment.
"Good day?"
"All right."
"Any progress?"
She knew he meant the case. "Some. Yes."
"Well, that's good!" He put down what he'd held in his hand and shifted in his chair to face her better. "Progress is good!"
"This progress felt…icky."
He frowned and she knew she couldn't keep it from him, even if she'd made a decision in the elevator. She needed to get the crap out of her system. Maybe she'd feel a bit better. And she knew inherently that Chuck was trustworthy. She'd learned the hard way not to keep stuff from him, even if she knew he'd understand if she did. These were her cases after all.
"Icky how?" he asked.
She sighed and turned to ease herself up to sit on the table, kicking her pumps off so that she could put her feet in his lap. His hands fell over them immediately and rubbed them comfortingly over her stockings.
God, he was the best thing in her life, wasn't he? The way his unconscious first priority was to provide her with comfort. She hoped she did the same for him.
"We brought in Greta Olsen's ex-husband to talk to him again, going with the money angle, you know? Casey discovered he'd been paying her alimony, but there were some other really big checks going in each month, on top of the alimony."
"Ooooo, that doesn't sound right."
"Nope. So we figured blackmail." Chuck nodded. "After a lot of grilling, Casey maybe…er…bluffing quite a bit, got him to admit what she was blackmailing him for."
Chuck frowned deeply. "It's really bad, isn't it?"
"Worse than I think we all feared."
"Oh, shit."
"She'd walked in on him with one of his students. A seventeen year old student, to be exact."
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," he groaned, looking down at her feet and shutting his eyes tightly. "So this incredibly complicated case you're working on now includes blackmail and statutory rape. Jesus Christ, how terrible."
"Yep."
"That's like a really horrible Lifetime movie or something," he groused.
"Mhm."
She stared down at her lap, twisting her fingers together there, and his hand left her foot to rest on her knee. She lifted her gaze to his.
"You okay? That's a really hard thing to hear. Really awful and sickening."
"It is. And I'm okay. I've seen some…" She shut her eyes tightly and shoved that away, far back into the deepest recesses, opening her eyes again and pushing the chill away. "Bad things. So it's part of this work. Just really, really gross. That's all."
He pushed himself up to his feet and she was wrapped up in his arms, just like that.
Chuck held her for a while, and she squeezed him back. They stayed that way in silence until she finally spoke up.
"This is so complicated. Because every single thing points to him having killed her. I mean, she was blackmailing him about statutory rape, for fuck's sake."
She felt him nod, but they still didn't pull away from the hug. "So you have the murderer then, right? That's a pretty fire motive."
"It is…but it wasn't him."
Chuck finally pulled back and looked at her, brow furrowed, head tilted. "No?"
She shook her head. "No. He has a really, really solid alibi. He was in a meeting at the museum where he does research in Seattle only an hour before Greta was murdered down here in California. There's no damn way he killed her unless he teleported."
"Oh. Jesus. Well…what if he didn't do it but he hired someone?"
"I've been thinking along those lines, too. He insisted he still loved her."
Chuck snorted. "Like people haven't killed someone they love before," he said sarcastically. She sent him a bit of a look and he cleared his throat. "Uh, don't worry, baby, I'm trying really hard to keep the incredibly fantastic woman I'm with in my life." She sent him another look and he winced. "Sorry. I know. Being too facetious about someone's death. I'm sorry."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, but slid off of the table to stand closer to him still, keeping her hands on his waist and pulling him in tight against her. It felt good in a lot of ways. "He could pay someone to murder her, yeah, but the only places his money had gone to were to her and the usual stuff. Bills and groceries and whatnot."
"Oh. Hm." He snapped his fingers then. "I've got it. Someone found out she's blackmailing him and they killed her to get her to stop. Somebody who cares about him. The student, maybe!"
"Chuck, come onnn," she groaned, thumping her forehead against his chest. She picked her head back up and gave him a flat look. "A seventeen year old sexual abuse victim travels all the way down to California to murder her abuser's ex-wife to protect him… Do you hear how that sounds?"
"Um. Stupid. It sounds stupid."
She raised her eyebrows and he winced with a nod.
They eventually moved away from the table and he fixed them both martinis so that they could relocate to the couch, but she noticed he took something with him. And as they sat, he began playing with it, and she realized belatedly that it was an ExoBand.
She pointed at it. "Is that Ellie's?"
Chuck did a double-take. "Y-Yeah. Yeah it is. How'd you know?"
"I told her she should ask you to figure it out. It kept beeping and yelling at her to exercise when we were making dinner the other night."
"I should have known!" he gasped, his jaw falling open. "I should've known you were behind this blessing! You are always looking out for me, baby." He grinned and leaned in to steal a kiss right when she was planning to take a sip of her martini. She squeaked in surprise and giggled, smiling at him as he sat back again. "I've been wanting to check this thing out since I saw a demo last year at a con."
Sarah shook her head and chuckled. "You're so very predictable sometimes."
He grinned. "Yep!" And then he tapped the screen on the watch and pulled his phone out. "Look how tight this is. There's an app you download onto your phone, right? And you can track everything here, play games, check out different work-out regimens. It's really tight."
"That's kinda cool."
"Yeah. But then there are also discussion boards and stuff, so people have kind of a community. The ExoBand community."
"Why does everyone need a community for everything?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I don't get that about humans. I like apples, oh I need a community with other people who like apples. Why can't I just like apples and move on with my life? It's such a weird thing."
Chuck laughed. "People like to talk with other people. I don't know what to tell ya, babe. But it kinda makes sense for this. People like to share what they're doing, ask for advice, whatever. There are different groups that you can join or get invited to. But there's a really cool challenge feature, too."
"Challenge?" Sarah scooted closer to watch.
"Mhm. Like, for instance, Ellie can't figure this thing out and she probably hasn't put the app on her phone yet even. But she has an invite here for a medical professional group. One of her nurse friends invited her. She sent an easy exercise challenge that goes with joining the group. Ten sit-ups, easy enough. So I just go…boop." He hit join and a little smiley face popped up before disappearing again. "Annnnd hopefully I can back out of what I did later so my sister doesn't murder me for signing her up for exercise without her permission…" Sarah giggled. "I can message any of the other members now. Just tap their name and bwoop, hello. Let's chat. Just the two of us. Like, this is the perfect way to do secret things. Plan a surprise party. Oooo or an affair!" he said, eyes wide.
"Or…you could just text the person you're having an affair with," she offered, thrusting her hand out and shrugging.
"No, because this is virtually untraceable. I don't know that they did it on purpose, but it's connected to nothing else, this is such new tech. Google, Apple, Facebook…none of those Big Brother type players have access to this. You need the exact device in your hand to read the message it sends."
Sarah nodded, but then what he said sunk in. It was an untraceable way to have a conversation. There were groups to meet people and chat rooms that police, Google, Apple, Facebook wouldn't have access to. Chuck was teasing about it being a good way to have an affair, she knew, but he wasn't wrong. It was also a good place to plan a crime.
Mark Vinton hadn't been the one to wrap his hands around his ex-wife's neck and strangle her to death. But there were secret ways to communicate if you wanted someone to commit a crime for you and keep your hands clean, weren't there?
Her eyes fastened on the ExoBand in her boyfriend's palm as it all began to come together in her mind.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
A/N: Thanks for reading. I checked the stats on this story and I know y'all are reading it. At any other moment in time, I'd be like ugh PLEASE review, please just let me know what you think, but right now, I get not having the energy. I just get it. It's hard to get the energy to write this stuff, so I understand.
-SC