Chapter 43
Elliot's letter sits like an anvil in her purse. She hadn't had time to read it, spending most of her day working out the kinks of their task force with Detective Perry, and it had been distraction enough.
Until now.
She's got the elevator to herself and the silence only allows her thoughts to run away on her. There is so much left unsaid between them even outside of the 10 years that have passed and now that she has something, even if it's just a letter, it doesn't give her any sense of closure. If anything, she's worried it will only add more layers to an already complicated situation.
The elevator stops on Rafael's floor, and she gets out, heading down the hallway to his apartment. Despite having pretty much moved in over the past few weeks, it still very much feels like Rafael's home. Using her key, she lets herself in.
She's immediately hit with the familiar smells of him cooking, and she takes a minute to just inhale and let it comfort her. Removing her shoes and coat, she leaves her bag, and the letter, by the door making here way into the kitchen.
He looks up at her, a soft smile on his lips. "Hey."
"Hey," she greets back. "Smells good in here."
He quickly wipes his hands, sipping the scotch he's poured himself. "We've had a big day in our house; that always calls for something home cooked and comforting."
Circling the island, she takes a hesitant step towards him, and when he reaches for her, she exhales, sliding into him. He presses a kiss to her temple, and she can smell the scotch on his breath. "Where's Noah?"
"Sleeping. He crashed on the car ride home and I didn't have the heart to wake him."
"How was he when you picked him up?"
Rafael rubs her back. "Grinning from ear to ear. Mrs. Smiley was with him, and she said he had a great day. How was your day?" He questions, pulling back.
He goes back to peeling potatoes and he seems more settled than when she left that morning. The last thing she wants to do is bring up Elliot when all she really wants is to have a quiet night with him and Noah. "I spent most of the day working on the joint task force with Detective Perry….if our perp sticks to his timeline, there will be another victim in a weeks time."
"I got the alert on my phone; pushing social media is a smart move."
Liv nods. "Here's hoping….How was lunch with your Mom?"
"Good….she says congratulations on your award, offered to babysit," he adds with a chuckle.
"That would be nice…I night to ourselves?"
"Yeah," he answers noncommittally, swallowing the rest of his scotch.
She looks to the counter where the decanter of scotch sits, noticing that there's a considerable amount drunk. "Rafa, is everything ok?" She questions tentatively.
"Everything's fine," he answers immediately.
"How much have you had to drink?"
"Are you policing my alcohol consumption now?" He grabs a knife and a cutting board, chopping the potatoes first. "I'm not drunk."
"I never said you were-"
"-that look you're giving me says otherwise." He makes quick work of the potatoes, moving on to the carrots. "I would never….not with Noah in the house."
The sound of the knife slicing and hitting the cutting board echos between them in their silence.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She questions unsurely.
"I don't," he answers decisively.
She nods, swallowing the lump that's settled in her throat. "Ok."
He's moving around the kitchen, looking for a baking sheet, and he spreads the vegetables onto it. Leaving him to it, she heads to their room to take a shower.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Noah is a chatterbox between them at the table, and Rafael is grateful. The scotch hadn't calmed his nerves like he had hoped it would and now he feels like an asshole for being so dismissive with her earlier. While her focus has been on Noah and his retelling of his day, he still catches the quick glances she gives his way and he avoids them at all costs.
Because he knows the minute he meets her eyes, he'll loose his resolve. And he can't do this to her, drop more at her feet, not again, not after everything she's been through, not after everything Noah's been through.
Because he has no idea what to say to her in any case.
Liv, I don't know who I am anymore?
Liv, I might be questioning my sexuality?
Liv, I know you've been through hell and back; here's one more thing to shoulder.
He curses himself internally.
What will she tell the squad? Their friends?
How will this affect her professionally? It's already an uphill battle, the misogyny and the old boys club relentless; she doesn't need anything more added to their fire.
And Noah? Sure, he's five but kids talk and can be so cruel.
And if he looses her? Them both?
No.
He's going to keep it together. Figure it out. Deal with it.
The panic is crawling up his throat.
"Papa?"
Dragging his gaze from his plate, he looks to Noah who is frowning at him. "Sorry, Mijo….what were you saying?"
"I asked you how your day was," Noah repeats.
"It was good," he answers. "Grandma Lucia says hello."
He brightens at this.
His appetite is gone, and he excuses himself from the table with his plate.
Liv's phone rings from her bag buy the door, and she's rising from the table to answer it. "Benson."
Rafael scrapes the remainder of his plate down the garbage disposal, resisting the urge to pour himself another drink.
"Ok," she sighs. "I'll meet you there."
"You're leaving?" Noah questions disappointedly.
Liv kisses the top of his head, gathering her own plate. "I'm sorry honey….you and Papa can maybe have some ice cream to make up for it."
"Yeah!"
Heading towards the sink, she scrapes the remainder of her plate down the garbage disposal too before heading to their bedroom to change. Grabbing her travel mug from the cupboard, he quickly makes her a coffee before collecting a few snacks. Her bag is still on the floor by the door, and he drops the banana and granola bar inside.
The white envelope is impossible to miss.
Her name is scrawled on the front and judging by the handwriting, he knows it's not from any of her squad, or even Dodds. He entertains for a minute that it might be from Tucker, but the knot that's settled in his stomach knows it's from Elliot.
The coffee machine gurgles to life and he moves to add cream and sugar, trying not to dwell on it.
She's back a few minutes later, and she kisses Noah on the top of the head again. "Finish your dinner. Sleep well, ok?"
Noah nods. "Love you."
"Love you too, sweet boy."
She's already heading towards the door, and Rafael follows with her travel mug. "Here…just incase it's a long night."
Liv accepts the mug gratefully. "Thank you….I'll text you when I can."
He nods. "Stay safe….I love you."
She reaches out to place a hand on his chest and there's no mistaking the pain that flashes in his eyes. "Rafa-"
"-Go, they need you."
"You need me," she points out. "You promised not to push me away, remember?"
He squeezes her hand on his chest. "…that was before-"
"-no changing the terms and conditions now, counsellor." Her phone rings from her pocket, and she lets it go to her voicemail. "I'm here; whenever you're ready. I love you."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"Rollins, is it?"
Amanda maneuvers down from the open stairwell where the body of their current vic, lays. "It looks like it. Number four."
ESU is already on the scene and she surveys the construction site herself. "Same profile?"
Amanda nods, gesturing to the vic. "Same staging, same binding, same rope. And he took a trophy."
Liv crouches to see the patch of missing hair at the base of the vic's head.
"Shaved a chunk at the base of the neck," Detective Perry adds.
"Head trauma, no pool of blood," Carisi points out. "She wasn't killed here."
Liv stands, looking around the construction area. "If it follows the pattern, there won't be any DNA. Let's check security cameras, and hold everybody back."
"She deserves that much," Rollins comments, heading towards the group of construction workers hovering around.
Detective Perry folds his arms against his chest. "This is our guy, and he's early."
"By over a week," Carisi comments.
"He's accelerating, which means it's only going to get worse from here. ID?"
"They found her purse near the body, exactly like the others," Detective Perry answers. "Cash was gone, the rest intact."
"You got a name?"
Carisi nods. "Jennifer Knowles. We got an ID from a company called 'Attention Inc.' We can run the credit cards to get a timeline."
"Next of kin?"
"Laura Knowles," Rollins provides. "Younger sister. She's going to meet us at the morgue."
Liv sighs. "Ok. Grab the video footage, canvas the neighbourhood," she directs to Carisi and Perry. "Double down on the community outreach."
Carisi nods. "Anything else?"
"Get all the evidence to the lab. Our perps gotta slip up sometime. And push social media; it's late and we don't want another vic."
"On it," Carisi assures, heading back into the crime scene with Perry.
The media is already waiting for them, and Liv remains steady as they head towards her car.
"Detectives! Was this the Second Avenue Strangler? Another victim?" They question insistently.
"No comment," she provides, slipping into her car.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"Love you, Papa," Noah yawns.
Rafael brings the blankets up over him, tucking him in. "I love you too, Noah. Sleep well, Mijo."
Noah closes his eyes, snuggling under the blankets with Eddie. He flicks on the star light, pressing a kiss to his head before leaving his bedroom.
Without Noah as a distraction the anxiety he had been feeling since leaving Dr. Lindstroms office resurfaces with a vengeance. He had tucked the scotch back into the cupboard and he heads to the bedroom, looking for his computer. It's still in his briefcase and he takes it back into the living room with him.
Research.
Dr. Lindstrom asked him to do some research and it will either be the distraction that he needs, or cause him to unravel completely. Powering up his computer he sinks into the couch, bringing up his web browser. His fingers hover over the keys, not exactly sure of where to start. Taking the good Doctors advice, he starts with LGBTQ spectrum.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
"No calls or texts between Jennifer or her sister," Fin starts. "Or anyone else after 6pm last night. If Jennifer made a date to meet Laura, it was with ESP."
"The labs came back too," Rollins throws in. "All the other victims had matching rug fibres. There were non found on Jennifer." She passes Liv the file.
"What about her blood alcohol, cause of death?" She questions, leaning against Carisi's desk.
"We're waiting for the report to come back," Rollins answers.
Liv flips through the lab report. "What about Jennifer's social media?"
Carisi shakes his head. "Nah, nothing yet. She kept it pretty professional, but we're still looking."
Her phone buzzes from her hand, and she accepts the call. "Benson."
"We may have got a suspect," Detective Perry answers.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The lights of several patrol cars are flashing when they arrive at the scene. Detective Perry is waiting for them, and she tugs the zipper up on her coat against the cold. "What have we got?"
"Young girl called it in," he gestures to the vic sitting in the back of the ambulance. "She left a bar, car pulled up beside her and offered a ride. She recognized his picture from social media."
Liv exhales. "Where'd we get him?"
"Precinct car pulled him over." They walk over to the cab and Detective Perry pops the trunk directing his flashlight inside. "His whole toolkit's here: knife, rope, clippers, condoms."
"Did you get any blood?" Carisi questions.
An ESU tech flashes an info red light into the trunk, revealing blood splatters.
"Well check for fibres and see if they're a match, but it looks like we caught our guy," Rollins comments.
Liv nods. "I want this sewn up. Get him to the squad. I want to hear him say that he did it."
. . . . . . . . . . . .
When she finally makes it home it's after midnight and she's surprised to find him still up, engrossed in his computer.
"You're still up," she comments, dropping her purse by the door and hanging up her coat.
Rafael closes his computer, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. "I guess I didn't realize how late it was….how'd it go?"
"We've got a suspect in custody." She sits on the couch beside him, holding back a yawn. There's an empty pint of ice cream, a few empty packages of Noah's fruit snacks and an empty coffee mug on the table in front of him.
"They good for all four?" He questions.
Running her fingers through her hair, she plays back the confession in her mind. "My gut tells me the first three."
"And the last?"
"There's something about the boyfriend….he's controlling, emotionally abusive. She broke up with him early tonight."
"So he kills her?" He questions. "With the exact same MO as your Pattern 23 rapist?"
She exhales deeply, closing her eyes. "Nothing in this job surprises me anymore….everything ok?" She gestures to the array of empty snacks on the coffee table.
"Trying to avoid scotch," he answers.
Looking at him now, more closely than she had before, his eyes are a bit puffy and his hair in slight disarray and there's a heaviness in his eyes behind his glasses she hasn't seen before. "….I'll give you space, if it's what you need…I just need you to know that I'm here, Rafa. I'm not going anywhere."
He swallows, worrying his lip. "…I didn't tell you everything, about my conversation with my mother."
She doesn't know what to say, so she remains silent, hoping that he'll continue.
He sets his computer on the table in front of them, deliberately leaving his screen open so that she can see what he had been reading.
How to come out to your loved ones
"She asked me if I was gay, and you and I both know that's the last thing you ask a victim and my immediate response was to to deny it…" His voice trails off and he rises from the couch to pace. "….I'm a middle aged man for christ sake," he berates himself. "….I'm too old to be questioning my sexuality."
"….do you feel differently about us?….about me?" She questions softly.
His entire body deflates as he turns to face her. "No, not at all….you are the love of my life, Liv….I'm attracted to you in every way possible."
She holds his gaze patiently. "Are you worried that this changes things for me?"
He worries his lip. "….Does it?"
Liv shakes her head. "Not at all, Rafa."
He visibly exhales.
"And for the record, you're never too old to live authentically, whatever that looks like."
Sitting on the couch beside her again, he rubs his face. "I feel wrong for wanting you, Liv….all those times I had sex with men, it wasn't just about punishing myself….I enjoyed it. I was attracted to them, I wanted pleasure from them."
She has no idea how to help him. What to say that won't make him feel any worse and make her sound anything less than supportive.
"….does that even make any fucking sense?" He questions.
"Does it have to make sense? Right now, at least?"
He meets her gaze. "I don't know who I fucking am anymore, Liv, so yeah, it would help."
His anger isn't directed at her, she knows, but it doesn't assuage the sting any less. "I know who you are," she assures gently. "You're the man that I love….the man that makes me feel safe and beautiful….you're Noah's Papa, who he idolizes and adores."
Rafael shakes his head, looking to his feet. "I'm a fucking mess is what I am."
"You can be that too," she agrees.
His gaze meets hers again.
"How we feel about each other hasn't changed, Rafael. Let that be enough for tonight."
It's a standoff, there on the couch, who is going to give in first and when he rises to his feet again, Liv thinks that she's come out victorious, only to be proven wrong.
"Rafa, don't," she pleads gently. "Don't shut me out."
"If I get in that bed with you, it's only going to make it worse, Liv."
"And sleeping on the couch is going to make it any better?" She challenges. "The only thing you're going to wake up being is crabby with a sore back." She manages to draw a laugh from him, even if it is a bit of a scoff. "Come to bed, Rafa….I know this is eating you up inside, but there's nothing more you can do tonight that's going to give you all the answers, babe."
Exhaling, he wipes his eyes. "…ok."
She exhales too.
Tbc
