i want my new god to look at the mecca i built him & call it damn good or maybe i'm just tipsy & free for the first time, willing to worship anything i can taste.

the 17-year-old & the gay bar, danez smith

HER HEAD FELT LIKE IT'D BEEN SPLIT OPEN WITH AN AXE. You're so dramatic, her sister used to laugh that sweet-as-pie laugh. Most times, it grated on her last nerve. But there are some days in the past decade that she thought she could faintly hear that laugh, off in the distance somewhere. Her hand reached up to rub her temple, a vain attempt to slow the dull ache. Something that is not aided by the turn of a long day. A day made even longer by the fact that they'd hit a brick wall. "You're tellin' me that you have no idea why your face is in these pictures? You're tryin' to tell me that these are fake?" Lon stared in disbelief. But the man across from them held his ground, shrugging his shoulders and pleading ignorance. "This is your face and her heels and her face. We found the same damn heels at ya' momma's house, Barker!" Once again, the man simply shrugged.

With a huff of frustration, Elaine slapped her notepad shut and stood up from the metal chair. Her back was beginning to ache. Age was catching up to her, and fast. Throughout her childhood, she swore up and down that she would never grow old. Swore that her and Sally would stay young forever. Maybe she didn't expect Sally to take it so literally. "I'm gettin' lunch." She mumbled, shaking away her thoughts. After a moment of silence, Lon nodded in agreement. "Let 'im sit here and starve. Maybe that'll jog his memory."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You can't do that! I know my damn rights! You got'a feed me!"

"Not if you ain't hungry." Lon rolled his eyes before motioning for Elaine to lead the way out. The two detectives left the room, ignoring the insults he hurled towards them. A police officer stood guard outside the door. "I just don't get it," he shook his head in disbelief as they made their way towards the elevator, "I mean, how can he sit there and deny photographic evidence? Who does that?" The doors slid open, revealing two more detectives. The four nodded towards each other before switching spots. Leaning her back against the wall of the elevator, she let her eyes shut tight. "I saw you at the house earlier today," he spoke quietly, "you still seein' her?"

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she kept her eyes shut. "Not as much, but... she's still there." She mumbled under her breath, exhaustion lacing every bit of her. Her fingers rubbed at her eyes, trying to wipe away the sleepiness that was beginning to take its hold on her. Regret was slowly seeping into her pores. Regret at staying up and drinking with Rust. Regret at going out to Susie's with him and seeing those photos. Maybe that was why she was beginning to see her again. It was all hitting her like a freight train once again. This feeling, like most others, was familiar. This grief that she had been ferociously hanging onto. This grief that she refused to let go out of worry that she would be losing the last thing tying her to her sister. "Same thing every time. She just looks at me. Wish she would do somethin' else for once. Glare at me or somethin', y'know." Her voice wavered for a moment, threatened by the tears that are building in her eyes. She feels pathetic, like a child. Even her daughter didn't cry this much. Never had, even when she was born. How she'd been blessed with a daughter the exact opposite of her, she's not sure she'll ever know. A part of her thinks it's for the best that she hadn't had a daughter like her. Would've made it all more painful.

The doors to the elevator slid open, halting their conversation. Sniffling, Elaine cleared her throat and followed Lon out of the elevator and into the room of offices. "How does Cane's sound to you?" Lon asked, changing the subject as they neared their desks. Her eyes run along the two empty desks next to hers. Something in her mind can't help but flash back to the mutilated girl in Rust's files. The girl who had been tied up and posed like a doll. A part of her thanks the god she doesn't believe in that her sister was never found like that. It's difficult enough to know the few details. "Cane's, it is." Lon answered himself as he grabbed his blazer and threw it on.

Grabbing her own blazer, she looked down at the new file on her desk. Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment as she picked it up and opened it. She recognized the handwriting of the coroner downstairs whose name she can not remember to save her life. New photos are attached with paper clips. Photos of Bella-Jo's back. Photos that revealed a large spiral carving where her spine met her neck. 'Found this while swabbing. Waiting on DNA from swab. Thought you should see. - Dr. S' the note read. "You see this?" She asked, her voice raspy with age and cigarette smoke. He shook his head and approached her side, leaning over her shoulder to get a look. His eyebrows furrowed as he leaned back and shrugged his shoulders. "This is the same shit on Rust and Marty's victim."

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. "And you know that from your li'l note comparing session?"

Shutting the folder, she used it to slap Lon's shoulder. "Shut the fuck up." She tossed her blazer on frantically, gathering her things up and approaching a nearby desk. "Martinez, you know where Hart and Cohle went?"

His wide eyes looked up at her. "I, uh... I think they went down to talk to Charlie Lange in Louisiana State. Why?"

"Fuck off." She muttered under her breath. Her movements were quick as she made her way out of the offices and towards the elevator, Lon trailing behind her.

†

"I'd like to discuss your relationship with Detective Greenwood." A beat of silence. The man across from them simply takes a drag from his cigarette and stares at the table. "Why were you allowing her to insert herself into yours and Detective Hart's investigation?"

"Elaine thought our cases were connected. We saw that carving on her back and thought we were huntin' the same guy. So, we let both of 'em join."

"How did Detective Hart feel about that?"

"He liked Baker and Elaine. Guess he didn't like talkin' to me much."

"Did you ever think that having Detectives Baker and Greenwood assisting the investigation would cause a distraction?"

Eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" Hands reached down to pick up the beer can and take a sip.

"What do you think it means?"

"I think it means you don't think Elaine is serious 'bout her job. I think she's the best detective the state of Louisiana's got. I think, if it weren't for her, I wouldn't be sittin' here tellin' y'all this."

†

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She snapped at the guard. "We're fucking detectives and you're interfering with a federal fucking case. Do you hear me? Or are you too fuckin' stupid to get that? I am your superior, fuckwit! I have not dedicated twelve years of my life to be disrespected by some fresh-out-of-high-school idiot that couldn't get into college."

Lon's hand grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back. She scoffed as she turned her back towards them. Always working the fucking crowd, she wanted to spit. "I'm sorry for her. But, listen, two of our coworkers are in there and we need to talk to 'em. It's pretty damn urgent."

The guard simply shrugged his shoulders, turning his eyes away from them. Lon clenched his jaw as he sighed. The two move away from the area, opting to take seats on the bench in the waiting room. Her leg bounced rapidly and haphazardly. Mumbling curses under her breath, she occasionally scoffed and shook her head. "Fuckin' prick. Who does he think he is? We're fucking detectives. We put in the time. And who is he?"

"Ain't makin' it better by complaining, El." Lon mumbled to her, his hands clasping together in his lap. His words fell on deaf ears.

"Fuckin' serial killer been on the loose for God knows how long. And we got this glorified mall cop tellin' us we can't go in." She shook her head in dismay as she looked around the waiting area. Always something. Picking at the skin around her nails, she huffed with frustration. Movement to her right. Glancing up, her body went stiff and rigid. She stood by the sliding doors, just staring. Always staring. The tears are near instantaneous. Cursing under her breath, she ducked her head. Her eyes shut tight as she attempted to gather herself. The taste of copper fills her mouth, coating her tongue. She attempts to ignore it, but it's growing more noticeable. It's beginning to seep past her lips. Pushing herself up from the bench, she made her way out of the penitentiary. Leaning over, she spits out a glob of thick red blood. A wince crossed her face. She can feel an open sore on the inside of her cheek. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she spit out more blood and saliva. That familiar copper taste is as welcoming as home. She knows that this is not a good feeling. She can feel her eyes peering through her, carving holes into her spine. Spirals. A soft groan escaped her lips as she spit again. "Go away." She muttered under her breath.

Straightening her back, she pinched the bridge of her nose. Not today, not now. She practically begged the spectre behind her to vanish. To banish itself far from her, far from now. A hand ran through a tangled bit of hair, brushing just enough to get it out of her face. This was not how she planned the day going. This was not how she had wanted the day to go. Get some lunch with Lon, maybe knock Barker around some more and finally get that confession out of him. But this spiral changed everything. They might be forced to let Barker go, now that this spiral business had shown up. But a pit rested in her stomach. Something about all of this felt so... off. She couldn't place her finger on it. Fucking serial killer. The exact opposite of the cases she'd been assigned. The last case she needed on her workload. This couldn't end well for her, she couldn't help but think. This pessimism felt like a cloud floating over her. Something that would follow her for the rest of her days.

"You alright?" A voice behind her startled her from her thoughts.

Glancing back, she watched the tall detective behind her avoid her gaze. Her eyes follow his line of sight to the globs of blood slowly soaking into the mulch. "Barely." She mumbled as her hands rubbed her eyes. "Where's Marty?"

"Talkin' to Lon." His thumb motioned inside the building. His ledger remained stuffed under his arm, like it had been glued there and nothing would pry it away. "Seemed pretty urgent."

She slowly nodded, taking a deep breath and attempting to ignore the copper taste that refused to leave her mouth. "Doc found a spiral carved on our vic's back. Plus, something that occurred to me this mornin'. Your notes said your girl had been drugged up with LSD and meth, right?" He simply nodded. "Ours, too. Now, on it's own, I'd just assume she was a junkie, but that with the spiral... it's odd. Too coincidental."

"You got the file?" He asked, looking over her form for any files on her. Unlike he, she carries a small notepad, barely scribbles anything in it other than nonsensical jargon. How anyone can read it, he isn't sure. He made the mistake of snooping around in it one morning she'd left it open on her desk and he'd gotten a headache the rest of the day.

The front doors of the penitentiary swing open as Lon and Marty join the other two. "Jesus," Marty scoffed, "you look like shit." His eyes run along the worn form of Elaine. Taking all of her wondrous glory in. Sometimes he's not sure how her and Rust function, how they stay alive. The two look like they live in perpetual misery. The only time he sees her smile is when she talks about her daughter. And he's not sure he's ever seen Rust smile. Isn't even sure the man is capable of it. And there lies a certain sympathy for those who can't even muster up a smile, not even a fake one. He's met men who refuse to smile out of some masculinity standpoint which he thought was damn near bullshit. But he's never met a man that simply couldn't smile. That had zero reason to smile. So, forgive him if it unsettles him a little. His point is proven as a chuckle escaped his own lips as Elaine raised her middle finger at him. "So, this is a four-man job now, huh? Oh, sorry. Three-man and one-woman job." Her other middle finger raised at him.

"Y'all been to Susie's Diner?" Lon asked the two men in between them. Marty shook his head, answering negatively. Rust glanced over to Elaine, remained silent. "Y'all are missin' out. We'll meet up there and discuss, yeah?" Marty spoke up that it sounded like a fine idea before dragging Rust back to their car. Elaine followed closely behind Lon as they returned to their own car.

"So," Marty started, a smirk playing on his lips, "what's with you and Elaine?" His eyes occasionally glanced over to watch Rust silently light a cigarette. And for the first time in their three months of partnership, he noticed how quiet the man goes. How he isn't talking nonsense for once. How he isn't talking at all. A chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. "That's all I had to do to get you to shut up? Ask about Elaine?"

"We work together, Marty," Rust finally answered after a long drag from his cigarette, "nothin' else."

"You didn't say word one to Lon, just walked right outside to Elaine." His tone turns more argumentative, like it usually does. "And don't think Lon didn't mention that she stayed late with you last night. And how you two conveniently came into work together with to-go boxes from Susie's Diner. Which you happened to leave out of the conversation just a bit ago."

Staring out the window, Rust refused to dignify Marty with even a roll of his eyes. "Elaine and I are just two miserable people in a miserable town. We got dinner and discussed our cases. Nothin' else. Startin' to think you're turning into some old lady, Marty. Minin' for gossip to fuel that boring life called suburbia. I think it's all a big con, a joke of this notion of Americana we have. That we're somehow unified as a nation, what a fuckin' joke."

A deep sigh escaped Marty's lips as he slumped in his seat. "I'm gon'a assume you're sayin' all that to make me regret askin' about Elaine. But I will let you know," that smirk returns, "I will not be letting this go."

"You're wasting what little breath we've been given on this shit-stain of a planet."

"Y'know, it's not a crime to be human for once, Rust. Or, should I say, Rusty." He laughed at the visible clench in Rust's jaw. "Oh, c'mon! Lighten up a little. I have to say, you couldn't have chosen someone better. Granted, she's totally out of your league, actually funny, actually knows how to talk to people... sometimes-"

"I get it." Rust interrupted his partner before taking another long drag of his cigarette. This is the last thing he needed to hear from Marty, of all people. For once, he was the one who craved the silence. Didn't want anyone interrupting that now. What did Marty say when all of this started? The car was for silent reflection, something like that. And that was just fine by him right now. He finds the need to be back at the office, a mug of coffee next to him and a cigarette between his lips as he stared down at his notes. He should've told Lon and Elaine that they were busy. But if their cases are connected, then that's a big thing. Stretched out more than they thought. Especially if it went back a full decade. That meant this guy had been perfecting his techniques for some time. And God knows what more he's capable of. With how he posed that girl in the field, he can tell it's something the man has been fantasizing about for some time now.

His thoughts are too rushed that he doesn't notice as Marty pulls into the parking lot of the diner, parking his car next to Lon's. A '75 Oldsmobile Cutlass that has definitely seen better days, better decades. How it still runs is a mystery to the entire office. Rust's first week, he'd heard, at least, five jokes about the detective's car. How it had been alive longer than some of the newest recruits. How it needed to be sent to the junkyard. Another reminder that he was an outsider. But he can't help but think it a nice car. Another thing that made him an outsider.

Curses spilled from Elaine's lips as she stretched her back. "You need to scrap this piece of shit." She mumbled as her thumb rubbed her lower back. "Your transmission's fucked. And now so is my back."

"Your back's been fucked since '88." Lon waved off her complaints like a wave of gnats.

"You haven't known me since '88, jackass." She followed the three men towards the entrance of the diner.

"We met in '88!" He exclaimed as he caught the door from Marty and held it open for her.

"Shut up and go inside." Her hand pushed him inside as he chuckled.

A dull ache shot through Rust's temple, a jarring moment that made him realize his jaw had been clenched. His hand reached up to rub along his jawline as he loosened it. It felt foreign seeing Elaine joke like that. She never did in the office. In their office, her exchanges with others were short, usually filled with cursing and snarky remarks. This kind of joking is reserved for very few to even witness. He's not even sure why his jaw is clenching at this. Maybe he's jealous. Jealous that he can't be like her, able to be someone else on the flip of a coin. That he can't even joke with Marty like that. Can he even joke at all? Before Sophia, he could. He would have Claire in stitches with his jokes. But maybe not everyone is meant to be happy, to be lighter than he is. He knows it's what ultimately drove her away from him. Why the divorce papers were signed, sealed, and delivered without a single word to each other.

The four slid into a booth, Marty and Rust on one side, Lon and Elaine on the other. She flipped her wrist, looking at the time on her watch. It was nearing two-thirty which left her with a half an hour before she needed to pick her daughter up from school. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she pinched the bridge of her nose. A woman in a pale pink dress approached them, notepad in hand, asking for their order. Just four coffees. "So," Marty started, looking between the two detectives across from him, "tell us about this Bella-Jo gal."

"Well, she's twenty-five. Got strangled with a rope and looks like she got raped before she died," Lon responded as he pulled out his own notepad, looking through the notes he'd taken. "Found LSD and meth in her system, plus that little spiral carving in her back." He turned towards Elaine. "You got the file on you? Show these boys the pictures."

"In the car."

"Why'd you leave the file in the car?"

"Why'd you leave the file in the car?"

A scoff escaped Lon's lips as he shook his head. "Well, seein' as you're the one on the outside of the booth, you mind gettin' it?" He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of her.

With a clenched jaw, she snatched the keys from him. "Fine, but I'm takin' a smoke break while I do it." Standing up from the booth, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. "Rusty?"

The man looked up towards her, watching her motion towards her pack. He remained silent as he stood up from the booth. "You can smoke in here?" Marty spoke, his eyebrows furrowed. "Just grab the file and come back in."

"I need some fresh air." She responded as her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah, you get some fresh air while you suck down cancer? That's smart."

Her middle finger raised at him as she turned to make her way out of the diner, Rust following closely behind. "I forgot how big of a dick he can be." She mumbled as the door to the diner closed. Tapping the top of the pack against the palm of her hand, she pulled one of the cigarettes out and pressed it between her lips. His hand stuck out, his lighter already lit. Her hand covered the flame as she lit the end of her cigarette, pulling back to watch him do the same to his own. "Thanks for comin' out here with me. "

"You don't seem all convinced these are connected anymore." He spoke before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Chewing the inside of her cheek, she leaned her back against the brick wall of the diner. Her eyes stared out at the small parking lot, the sun beating down on them. A soft sigh escaped her lips, smoke pouring out with it. A silent moment passed before she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. The spiral looked different from Dora's. I thought they were connected, but now... I don't know. The more I think about it... the less confident I feel about it all. I kept lookin' at the pictures on the way here and somethin' just don't feel right." Her fingers picked at the skin around her nails. Chipped pink nail polish sits on her nails - a result of her daughter begging to paint her nails. The more she looked at it, the more she liked it. A gentle reminder of the little girl that saw the world in her. The bright smile that had spread on the girl's face when she'd finally caved made all of the questioning jokes from Lon worth it.

"How's it look different?" He asked, his eyes running along her. It was easier to look at her like this, without her own eyes piercing him. Meeting eyes was never easy for him, not now. Maybe before. But certainly not now. Something about being reminded that he existed outside of it all didn't sit well with him. And her gaze is nothing but a reminder. A reminder that he is like her, and exists in this world with people like the guy they're chasing. With multiple of this guy. That they live in a world that people just trying to get by are ripped from it every day. People like Bella-Jo, like Dora Lange, like Elaine's sister. A frown settled on his lips as he pressed the cigarette between his lips and took another deep drag. He watched as she neared Lon's car, opening it and digging around for the file. When she returned to his side, she opened the file and pulled the photo of the spiral out. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked over it. The carved lines were jagged and almost crooked.

"Shit." She hissed as she looked back down at her watch. "I have to go pick up Edith." Her hand held the file out to him. She snuffed out the cigarette against the bottom of her boot before tossing it into the ashtray next to the front door. "You think Marty'll mind drivin' Lon back to the station? I'll leave his car there." His eyebrows furrowed at her words. He almost wanted to chuckle at the fact that she was stealing her partner's car. But he remained silent, shrugged his shoulders in response. As she turned to near the car, she stopped for a moment and turned back to him. "If you're free later, maybe we could meet at that bar down the road from Susie's. Y'know... to discuss the case." She didn't wait for him to respond, climbing into the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

His eyes stared at the spot next to him that she had just occupied. He didn't know what to think of her. To say she was easy to talk to would be a lie. With Marty, his words fell easily, one after another. But around her, he couldn't come up with anything. Couldn't form a solitary sentence that didn't sound like something in a third grade textbook. For once, he let someone else do all of the talking. And that was fine with him. He didn't mind it. Another moment passed before he snuffed his own cigarette out and threw it into the ashtray. Stuffing the file under his arm, he returned into the diner and to their booth, setting the file down on the table. Both of the other detectives stared at him in confusion. "Had to go pick up Edith. She said she'll leave your car at the station."

"She took my damn car?" Lon asked in disbelief as he quickly pushed himself up from the booth and neared the door to look out into the parking lot. "Son of a bitch! She can't keep doin' that shit! I'm never givin' her my damn keys again. Son of a bitch."

Marty chuckled as he shook his head. "You know her kid's name, huh?" A joking smirk played on his lips as he grabbed the file and slid it closer. Rust shot him a look before looking back down towards the fourth mug of coffee that would remain untouched. A small frown formed on his face as he stared down at his own coffee mug, no longer in the mood for coffee.