Debra had been the first to arrive. Her car skidding to a halt in front of him. "Dexter." She shouts throwing the car door open and running over to him. She drops to the ground next to him. "Hey, Dex." She says softly hand reaching out to cup his face and turn his attention to her.
"I'm alright." He gasps out sitting on the floor outside his car surrounded by glass shards. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. Your fucking bleeding Dex." Debra tells him showing him her blood smeared hand.
"I am." Oh. He didn't know that. Debra mutters something before dashing away from him. He looks down at his hands and sees small, bloodied cuts on his hands as well. Guess he really is bleeding. But he can't feel it.
Something presses against his head making him jump and turn to attack whatever it is touching him. Only to pause mid-action when he spots Debra back at his side pressing a white cloth into his head and saying something over the radio. Probably calling for backup.
He blinks before he remembers something.
"Head." He almost forgot about that.
But Debra doesn't understand what he's saying. "Yeah, your head is bleeding. But it doesn't look too bad... I think. I'm not a fucking doctor Dex. This is more your area."
He shakes his head earning a pointed glare from Debra who tries to reapply pressure to his cut. "No. Head. He threw it at me."
Deb pulls the cloth back confusion mixed with horror on her face. Slowly she says. "What do you mean he threw it at you." Instead of repeating it again Dexter turns towards his wrecked car and points to the front seat. Debra follows his gaze standing up and cautiously walking over to the car. "Jesus fuck." She utters when she finds the prone head resting on the floor of the car.
Sirens blare in the distance echoing louder and louder as they approach. Deb kneels back down next to him and holds the cloth to his head. "At least LaGuerta can't say your ice truck theory was wrong now." He tries to joke but it falls on deaf ears.
"He could have killed you," Deb mutters looking from the blood on her hand to the destroyed car. "He could have fucking killed you, Dex." If he hears the tremble in her voice he doesn't call her out on it.
"But he didn't it." He quickly assures her. "I'm fine and I'm alive." But the question remains why didn't the killer kill him. Why did he lure Dexter all the way out here. Why give the head. All good questions. Questions he doesn't think he really wants the answer to.
Police and an ambulance arrive on the scene. Doakes and LaGuerta arrive not long after he was given the all clear by the paramedic other than a concussion. The two detectives separate him and Debra to take their statements separately as is procedure.
LaGuerta approaches him as the paramedic finishes wrapping his head wound up. "Give us a minute." Out of the options of having Doakes or LaGuerta taking his statement, he really wishes Angel was here. "Hanging in there."
"This will teach me to tailgate." He quips earning an amused chuckle from his boss as she sits down next to him.
She pulls out her pen and paper. "Let's go over this again."
He nods wanting to have this all dealt with so he can go home and shower... Fuck he was supposed to be meeting up with Rita. She had called him and invited him right before the Ice Truck appeared. He's going to have to call her back in the morning and apologise for ditching. It's too late to be calling now and he doesn't want to disturb her or the kids. Maybe he should bring flowers.
Shit he doesn't know what flower is her favourite. And he knows this shit matters. Debra taught him that. He knows Deb loves white roses, but he has yet to ask his girlfriend what hers is. Would it be a cop out if he gets her white roses as well. If Debra likes them then they must be good. Or should he go more traditional. Maybe he should ask Debra. She knows more about this stuff then he does.
"I'm all yours." He says more then ready to get home and start dealing with everything else. He takes her through the whole debacle. From the moment he saw the ice truck to following after it, calling Debra and the crash.
She jots down what he says but he can see she isn't that all pleased. "So, all of the ice trucks in Miami... bit of a coincidence don't you think." LaGuerta starts off and he isn't sure if that is meant as an accusation or not.
Trying his best to not sound offended by the idea that he and Debra staged this whole thing he answers her question. "Sure, during business hours. But this time of night a truck sticks out." Most deliveries are made early in the morning to get the freshest products possible. middle of the night is a waste of meat. So it was strange for it to be out here.
She raises an eyebrow at him. "And you followed it."
"That's right." Not the best idea he's ever had but he has managed to prove to everyone that what Debra said was right. So, he's going to chalk this up as a win for team Debster.
"And you never saw the driver." He tries to think back. To the moments just before the crash. But he sees nothing but a shady blur as the truck rams into him.
Snapping back to reality he shakes his head in defeat. "Just high beams and a flying head."
LaGuerta goes quiet. Her mind working to figure out what was going on. Synapses firing to make connections. "Then he must have already had the head with him in the front seat that's weird why would he keep it there."
Because he always planned on throwing it at someone. Maybe he wanted to lure the police out and do it then... but that doesn't make any sense. No one on the force was looking for an ice truck other than him and Debra. And even if they were he wasn't in a police car. He was in his car so the killer couldn't have known it was him. Yet he lured Dexter all the way out here into this trap. None of this makes any sense. "I don't know. So, he could use a carpool lane."
LaGuerta smiles at his poor joke trying to deflect away from the obvious. "It just seems odd, your girlfriend has this idea on the ice truck theory then here you are to back it up." Again, it sounds like she's hinting at something. But if the head proves Debra right. And that this wasn't staged.
Unless Debra is the Ice Truck Killer.
Not that would be a twist. Some really crime drama stuff happening there.
He's not going to share that with LaGuerta. She may not take his joke as well as Deb would and actually start looking at Debra as a suspect. Then he would get punched in the arm serval times by Deb for causing her more stress. "She's good lieutenant. You should give her a chance."
"You know you should call me Maria." Oh no. The smile slowly drops from his face. "And I'll tell you whose good." Oh, double no. "You are." Triple fuck oh no. Please don't flirt with him. Please don't flirt with him. Where's Debra. He needs help. Sending out an SOS. "Doakes picked up the killer in the coke head murders you were right it was her boyfriend. Of course, Doakes still hates you."
At least there was one killer off the streets. That's something at least. "Of course." Doakes will never like him.
She now leans more towards him in what could be considered a flirtatious manner. "Tell me, Dexter. How did you get to me so smart."
Sutley, he tries to lean back. "Lots of sleep and lack of social life as a kid." She stares at him. Making him uncomfortable. "Is it ok if I fill out the reports tomorrow." He jumps up from the ambulance creating more space between them.
Which she follows. "Sure, thing you're tired." She rubs up and down his arm
In a panic, he salutes her. "Good night, Lieutenant. I'll catch you later." He quickly retreats to the safety of Debra again. Ignoring the eyes that follow him. Doakes glares at his approach but he would take Doakes over flirting with LaGuerta any day. "Can you take me home please."
Debra looks over his shoulder eyes narrowing for a split second. "Sure." She makes a show of wrapping an arm around his waist and he automatically wraps an arm around her shoulder as they head towards the car. She's nice and warm. It's comforting after everything that he endured tonight. Deb is his safe place. His own little sanctuary.
The ride back is mostly quiet. Neither of them were in much of a speaking mood. Both just wanting to go home and sleep away everything that transpired today. Everything is a tomorrow problem. But he can't say he's looking forward to being alone tonight. Maybe he can convince Deb to stay over. He doesn't want to be alone right now. Harry would be ashamed of him for asking Deb to protect him when he was meant to be the protector. The strong one.
The radio station in the background is in his opinion playing tacky music but something that Debra seems to enjoy as she quietly hums along to certain songs. They remain like that until they park outside his complex. "I'm sorry about before." Deb starts before he could ask her to stay with him.
He can hear the guilt in her voice. The blame is she putting on herself when it wasn't her fault. He's a big boy now and can make his own messed up decisions. "Deb." He tries but Debra cuts him off.
"No. I overreacted... again... I'm sorry. You could have died tonight and I wouldn't have answered your call because I was pissed off with you over nothing." She hangs her head in shame, but he just waves her off.
He gets it. He does. He's known her long enough to understand how she gets sometimes. "It's fine. If I thought, you were sleeping with Doakes I probably would have done the same." He cringes and the mental images. Yeah, no that's an awful thought. He'll take the severed head over that picture any day.
Curiously Debra asks, "What's his issue with you anyways."
Getting out of the car he rushes over to open her door as she turns off the engine. "I don't know. Apparently, I give him the creeps." He's never figured out why that is. Everyone else at the station is alright with him. Just Doakes.
Debra looks outraged at that. Grabbing holding his arm and linking them together as they head up to his place. "That's stupid. You are far from the creepiest guy I've met... And I've met a few."
"I'm aware." Most of them being her ex-boyfriends who after one meeting knew he never wanted to see again. And that's not even taking into account the creeps she's met working undercover on Vice. Man is he glad she's off that assignment right now.
Entering his apartment, he flips on the lights and turns to face Deb. "Do you want to stay over tonight. At least then you can get some sleep... and drive me to work in the morning. I need a ride. Besides we have beer in the fridge." If in doubt offer her free drinks. She never turns them down.
Laughter rings in his apartment as she shuts the door behind her with a flick of her foot. "Sure. I call dibs on the bed thou-" Debra freezes mid-sentence staring at something in his kitchen. "What the fuck is that."
Confused he turns to see what she's looking at. A doll's head is hanging from the fridge.
The two of them share a weirded out look. "I didn't do that." He states eyes glancing around the room looking for anything else out of place. If this was a robbery, why leave the doll's head is this a calling card or something. If it is it's a little fucked up.
Also, what are the chances he gets robbed the same day a serial killer crashes his car and throws a head at him. Can't people just leave him alone.
Debra draws her gun telling him to wait here as searches the apartment. He doubts anyone is still hanging around. But just in case he walks over to his desk and pulls out Harry's old service gun. Dexter then walks over to the fridge to inspect the doll's head. It's just hanging there all creepily. The smile on the thing was something out of a nightmare. What kid enjoys this like this. It's demonic.
Debra shouts saying it's all clear.
His computer is still where it was, his TV is still here and anything of valuable is still right where he left it. So, this wasn't a robbery. But if it wasn't a robbery, what is it.
The doll's head seems teasing. Almost playful. A hint to open the fridge door. An act he finds himself doing. Please don't be a bomb or anything like that. He cannot deal with that as well today.
Ripping the door open nothing explodes in his face which is a good sign. What isn't a good sign though is the small parts of a doll pulled apart and wrapped in a cute little red bow lying in the centre of his fridge. Legs and arms separated and wrapped just like how the Killer was doing to his victims.
Fuck. The killer broke into his apartment. It had to be him. What else could it be.
He calls for Debra who comes rushing into the room gun drawn and ready. "You might want to take a look at this." Far more cautiously than he did Deb walks over to the fridge and peers inside. He watches as Debra pales at the sight. Gun still drawn she grabs his arm and drags him out of the apartment back to the car locking it immediately and calling it all in.
While Debra is informing LaGuerta of what has happened now he wonders why they didn't just stay in the apartment. He gets it's a crime scene and not really a safe place anymore. But is the car really any safer. Surely being inside is better.
Not that he says this to her. Her leg is jittering face then he's eyes can keep track of which means he should not start an argument with her unless he wants to be hit. Which he does not. He just sits there quietly pleasantly surprised at how calm he is at the moment.
Maybe everything from today has just become too much and he is living in denial of what just happened, or his brain hasn't made the connection yet. Or maybe his head injury is what is keeping him calm. Either way, it's nice to not be freaking out.
Unlike Debra. "What the fuck is going on Dex," Deb whispers as she leans forward and rests her head on the steering wheel.
Dexter shrugs leaning back in his seat. "I don't Deb. But nothing good."
Her head snaps towards him. "Yeah, no fucking shit." She snaps at him with a fierce glare.
Shutting up again. Ok. They remain in silence until the police, Doakes and LaGuerta. His apartment is taped off as forensics starts to go through everything dissecting his life while he watches.
He, Debra, Doakes and LaGuerta all stand outside leaning on the railing. None of them understand what is happening or why it seems the killer is following him. The only thing they can think of that might get the killer's attention is the fact that Deb figured out he was using an ice truck. Doakes was the one to put that idea forward.
One that Debra doesn't like. "So, what you think because I called him out, he went after Dexter." She crosses her arms defensively in front of her chest.
"That doesn't make any sense. Only cops were in the briefing room. Where Deb threw that idea out." Dexter adds on. It's kind of hard to believe that a cop went after him to get to Debra for figuring that out. If anything, the cop would be happy that LaGuerta shut that idea down so violently in front of everyone.
Doakes nods glaring at the ground. "True. But cops talk. Gossip spreads. And people overhear. If the killer is trying to get close to the investigation he might have overheard someone talking about Debra suggesting the ice truck and panicked."
"Panicked would be dumping the truck. Not attacking me with it." Dexter shoots back not believing any of this.
"And I was the one to put the idea out there." Debra jumps in. "Why go after Dexter if it was my idea."
"Gossip." He says something coming together in his head. All eyes look towards him. "Like the Sergeant said cops talk. And this killer has been killing for a few months now. That's more than enough time to get close to the department. And cops love to gossip with each other. And whether we admit it or not there are a lot of rumours about us Deb. So, if the killer wanted to go after you, I would be the easier target."
Rumours about them have been floating around for a few years now. Ever since Deb first came to see him on his lunch break. People love to joke about it. Openly joke about it. Hell, LaGuerta did that at the hit and run scene. Anyone coming into the precinct, their local coffee or food places would overhear what they are saying about them.
And LaGuerta publicly humiliated Deb today because of her idea. That would spread like wildfire with everyone talking about it. Hell, he was ready to fill Rita in on everything that happened. Taking people's partners and families into account hundreds of people could have heard what happened today.
Cleaners, lawyers, criminals, cops, and every other job in their workplace and nearby would have heard about it if they were listening for it. Too many people to narrow down. Plus, all their friends and family members. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack.
LaGuerta's eyes flick between them in an unpleasant manner at the thought. "Either way you've had two run ins with him in a matter of hours. He may start to target you more." Oh well, that's a joyous thought. "I think you should stay somewhere else for a while. Just to be safe."
So not only is his girlfriend mad at him, but his car is also destroyed, he was attacked by a serial killer, had to deal with a decapitated head, has a concussion, his house was broken into and vandalised and now he has to live at a safe house for the foreseeable future. "You've got to be kidding." Dexter groans.
"No, she's right." Debra stepped in before he could try and argue with LaGuerta over this. "You followed him Dex, he might think you saw him, and this is just a warning to keep quiet."
He scoffs at this. he didn't see anything. The killer made it impossible for him like that. Besides it is more likely he broke in before the bridge. Not after. Doing it after is far more risky. "Like that's going to happen. I didn't see who he was. I saw a truck, lights and a head." That bloody head will probably hunt him for the rest of his life
Debra levels her gaze at him. "Still the lieutenant right. You can't stay here." Those are some words he never thought Deb would say. Her agreeing with LaGuerta. Something truly is wrong with the world.
He sighs. "Debs."
"You can stay at mine for now." The others exchange weird looks. Like this was so out of the norm. "It's not like you haven't stayed before." Another look. Seems like more gossip will be circulating about them tomorrow. "Besides I will feel better knowing I'm not going to wake up to hear you've been butchered in your apartment."
"So, you want to be butchered together. That's so sweet." He mockingly replies. That is the whole point of sending him to a safe house. It makes it harder for the killer to find them.
If Doakes was right and he was being targeted because of Debra, the last place he should be staying is with Debra. It's a two for one deal of kills for this lunatic. Kill one get the other free.
Debra doesn't look at all amused with his response. "Funny. But I'm serious." She has that look again. The look of she will not give this up and he really just wants to shower and watch something stupid on TV since he can't sleep because of his concussion and headache.
Defeat. He accepts defeat. Showering at Deb's and hanging out there would be better than some random hut in the Everglades. Besides, if he thinks about it if he's in danger Deb probably is as well. They are better together then apart. But he swears to God if this ends up with both of them dead he is going never going to let her forget this. "Fine. I don't know why I even bother trying to argue with you."
A smug proud smirk lights up her face. "I wonder that too. You should just accept defeat."
LaGuerta cuts in before he could respond. "You should grab a bag and then let out forensics go over everything." They are already going over everything. Besides he already has stuff at Deb's place. Nonetheless, he nods to LaGuerta and nips back into to grab his stuff wondering how his life has come to this.