When he imagined how his week would be going he never once thought he would be hiding out at Debra's with the door locked and chained just in case a serial killer came looking for him. Yet that is his new normal. A great way to start the day. Even more soon given the fact none of the blinds were open or the lights were on to indicate no one was home in case the killer did come looking. With Debra out getting breakfast, it seemed like a safe precaution.
According to Deb anyways. To him it's more of this might be going a little over the top but Deb is on edge and arguing with her right now won't do either of them any good. So why risk it.
He is currently going over his notes for court today while waiting for Debra's return so she can drop him off at the courthouse. If she gets back sooner, they may have time to swing past Rita's. It's still too early to call and explain why he ditched her last night and by the time it would be reasonable to call he will be in court. And he really doesn't want to wait until tonight to explain everything. Rita deserves more then to be fretting all day as to why her boyfriend suddenly ditched her after the last they meet, and he crossed the line freaking her out.
Fuck.
He forgot how bad things had ended between them. Yeah. Not great. Either Deb gets back in ten minutes or he is calling a taxi. He can deal with a pissed of Debra later. If LaGuerta mentions anything about them bunking together no doubt she will be in a mood anyways.
Going back to the case he tries to read his notes in the dark room but it's a bit difficult. Thank God this was an easy case otherwise he would be breaking Debra's rules. All the blood evidence indicates it was the boyfriend. His blood was even at the scene. It should be an open and shut case.
He hopes it is. After last night he needs something easy to deal with today.
There's a tapping at the door. He stills at the sound. The tapping happens again. What are the chances it is the killer. Taking the risk he as quietly as possible walks over to the door and looks through the peephole.
It's Deb. Of course, it's Deb. Jesus even he's now starting to get paranoid. Next thing you know the walls will be covered in tin foil or a panic room will be built. Opening the door, it halts when the chain comes to full length. "What's the password."
Deb scowls at him. "You think you're so funny."
Unhooking the chain he lets her in. "I'm hilarious and you know it."
"Sure, you are." She says rolling her eyes and kicking the door shut behind her and relocking it all again. "I brought beagles." She hands him the bag and he dives into that starving. If he is going to be staying around here for longer, he needs to get Deb to grocery shop. How she has lived this long on beer and quick meals he has no idea.
He debates trying to teach her how to cook but the last time he did that they ended up in an argument and the kitchen somehow caught fire and the fire department had to come. As you can imagine that made him very popular at the last apartment building he lived at with her during college. Nothing better than everyone having to stand outside at nine o'clock at night in the rain.
They moved not long after that and he refused to ever let Deb near a kitchen again. To this day he has no idea how she managed to do that. He just knows never to allow her to be unsupervised again.
Debra moves around the room ripping open the blinds. "Wow, it is depressing in here."
"That was your idea." He reminds her earning yet another eye roll and she comes back over grabbing her own food. Knowing her so well he moves to the fridge grabbing her a drink of orange juice as well.
Passing her the drink she looks with concern. "So... How are you doing." A loaded question considering everything that has happened the past few days. But in truth he's alright. It was a little terrifying last night but if the killer wanted him dead, he would be dead. Killed via truck or waiting in his apartment.
He doesn't know why he and Deb are being targeted. If it is because of a leak in the Police force or anything like that. But a little warning isn't enough for him to jump straight into witness protection. Not yet at least. Throw a few more heads his way and maybe he will think more about it.
"I'm fine. Not looking forward to court today but fine." He answers honestly taking a bite of his bagel. Ignoring how Debra is looking at him. Like she can't figure out if he's telling the truth or not. He knows she's far more worried about this then he is, but he also knows working himself up over it all will make her worse and right now both of them need to be on their game in order to find his psycho. The woman he's killed deserves that at the very least. "Also, before you drop me off can we quickly head over to Rita's. I have to talk to her about why I ditched last night."
Debra watches him for a few moments but agrees. "Yeah, sure." She takes a sip before remembering something and in her excitement to tell him almost spills her drink all over herself. "But guess what."
"What."
"LaGuerta looking out for that refrigerated truck in every swamp, glade and chop shop from here to the Keys." Nice to see all it took was him nearly dying for his boss to listen to Deb. So last night... kind of worth it. "But the way I see it that Wack job truck driver threw a served head at your car, tried to ram you off a bridge and broke into your apartment. It's not as if he's shy."
No. Whoever they are dealing with is very clearly not shy. Which makes him even more dangerous. He's doing all this knowing there was next to nothing to tie back to him. He's confident and talented. A horrific combination in a killer. One resulting in a lot more bodies being dropped. And lots of frustration in the department. He knows it won't be long until people start turning on each other.
But he can where Debra is going with this. He's confident and doesn't feel the need to hide. "You think he's hiding the truck in plain sight wanting it to be found." Almost as if he's testing them or playing with them. A taunt. Look how smart I am.
Some of that excitement Deb was exhibiting slips. "I think I could answer that if LaGuerta didn't have me back with my hookers looking for a witness." Still. Even after everything LaGuerta is still looking for the non-existent witness. Still having Debra run that dead end lead.
Damn. And he just thought they were starting it move forward together. What is with them and their bosses. Debra and LaGuerta, him and Doakes. Why is this weird rivalry thing happening. What did he do. What did Debra do.
"Finding that truck is your golden ticket into homicide." He tells Debra. And she will have to make sure the captain knows it was her and not LaGuerta. Otherwise, she will take the credit and keep Deb out of the department. But the Captain can go over her head. It's Deb's only shot.
Well, that of if she tracks down the killer and arrests him with a shit ton of evidence. But let's try and be a little more realistic to begin with. Besides he's not really looking for another encounter with Mr Head Thrower anytime soon.
Debra deflates. "Tell me about it."
They need to find that truck. Until they do more people will keep dying. But he also notes that LaGuerta will not like Deb disobeying her causing even more strife. But there is a way to compromise on this. "Just because LaGuerta has you looking for a witness on her time doesn't mean you can't look for the truck on-"
Debra cuts him off as the realisation sets in. "On my time." And with that gleam in her eyes, he knows for a fact that she will be spending most of her free time scouring the city for that Ice truck. Which now in turn means he will be spending his free time looking for that ice truck. Damn... He did not think that part through.
But he can't let Deb go searching for a serial killer on her own. Harry would come back from the grave and throttle him. He guesses this does sort of fit Harry's code. Find the killer before he can hurt any more people. A compromise.
Debra looks down at the ties he's picked out for court today. "Have you picked one yet." She asks running her fingers down the length of each other them.
"Nope." She holds up the green tie to his face and then the blue. She goes back to the green. "Brings out your eyes." She says softly and he gulps under her gaze. Not trusting his voice, he nods smiling at her in thanks grabbing the tie and moving to get changed. Her eyes watching him as he leaves.
In the end, because of the police locking down the bridge for the crime scene last night, they didn't have time to go to Rita's with him going straight to court. Probably for the best given how he now has time to get her some flowers as an apology. He knows a flower store near the police department that does beautiful White roses. It's where he normally gets them for Deb for her birthday or if she's having a really bad day just to cheer her up.
In court, he takes his spot as the prosecutor a man he hasn't worked with before begins his speel. "Please state your name and occupation."
"My name is Dexter Moser, and I am a forensic specialist in blood splatter analysis for the Miami police department." He responds offering his best charming smile to the jury. Always looks friendly. Make them feel safe. Every action he does is scrutinised so always be careful of what you say and do.
"And how long have you been doing blood splatter analyst Mr Moser." He is asked next.
"Almost twelve years." It will be in a few month's time. He was able to work with Harry for a few cases before his heart gave out. He wishes Deb had been given that chance. All she's ever wanted was to make him proud and she would have been beyond thrilled to have worked with her father on a case. For him to see her graduate from the police academy before he passed.
He tried to be extra supportive on that day. To be everything she needed. But he couldn't fill the gaping hole left in Harry's wake. Nothing could. But he made sure to remind Deb that Harry would have been so proud of her and would be telling everyone in the department how his little girl would be running things in a few years.
"You've been involved in quite a few cases then." That would be an understatement.
"Two thousand one hundred and three." An ever rising number which in itself is a sad statistic. Crime never stops. Blood being involved never seems to stop. It's awful but it keeps him in the job.
The lawyer chuckles to himself. "Give or take."
Dexter tenses a little. Why would he say that number if it wasn't true. He could have just said yes. But he wanted people to understand that he is good at his job and has the experience to back it up. They need to trust what he says. Having been involved with so many cases gives that sense of experience and accomplishments which makes them more willing to hear what he is saying. The lawyer should understand this not try and make it into a joke or mess around with his figures. "No two thousand one hundred and three."
The lawyer seems a little taken aback by his words but quickly moves on. "Then it's safe to say blood is your life."
Given that fact sometimes when he closes his eyes, he sees blood it's pretty much true. "Safe to say." Dexter then goes on to explain everything the blood at the scene told him and how that indicated that the man on trial murdered his girlfriend. When working with the jury it's good to use big and fancy words but to always explain their meaning like you're trying to explain it to a child. But not in a patronising way. That annoys people.
His role is done but he likes to hang around for a little longer. It helps him to remember why he does what he does. Other officers hate court. That being picked apart on the stand. But he enjoys that. He enjoys it when people try and twist what he said. It's more fun to put them back in their place. Blood never lies after all. People do. That's his favourite line to throw out there. And then going on to explain what the blood is telling him in depth.
He spots a family crying. A mother husband and daughter weeping in the corner. The pain of their own loss is evident on their faces. Neither the mother or daughter could stomach going back into the courtroom, but the father does. Curiously he follows. His senses were honed by Harry flaring. And he learnt a long time ago never to ignore those senses.
They would have been handy last night. But Harry's strange like that. Never when he's in danger but when over people are. Seems even in death Harry wants him to fight crime as a vigilante.
Inside the courtroom is a picture of a young man. Couldn't be more then eighteen nineteen was plastered on the screen. The lawyer, a woman who he has seen before walks in front of the jury. "Alexander Price finished his homework, kissed his mom went out for a jog. He told her he would be back in time to take out the trash cans just another night. Until." The slide changes to a damaged car. "Until the defendant not only stuck him with his car but fled the scene leaving Alexander Price alone." The slide changes again to the poor kid's mangled body. "And dying for hours before his body was found the next morning. From heinous to unspeakable. The people will prove that not only did Mr Chambers strike and kill Alexander Price but did so while once again under the influence of alcohol." A video begins to play showing the boy's life. A move to tug on the heartstrings.
However, everyone in the room is moved by the video. Everyone but Mr Chambers. He looks bored. His senses are blaring as the video ends and Mr Chambers's lawyer begins his own speech. A reminder of the dangers of being an alcoholic and implying to the court that Mr Chambers might have been drunk that night, but he was not the one driving the car. It was his car, but it had been stolen beforehand.
It was certainly plausible but not likely.
It's at this point the defendant puts on the crocodile tears. A way to look torn after what happened. Again, a move to tug on the jury's heartstrings.
But it looks practised. Rehearsed. Likes he's done it before. And that's what gets his mind going. Someone on trial for the first time over a count of murder like this is normally never so composed. But he's doing everything right. Playing the perfect part. Like he's done this before.
When the court for the day is brought to a close, he wanders over to the lawyer who is packing away her stuff. "Excuse me, Miss."
"Foster." She greets wearily. " Mrs Elizabeth Foster. Can I help you."
"Dexter Moser." He introduces holding out his police ID. Best not to make her think he's a stalker or weirdo. "Miami PD forensics." Something shines in her eyes like recognition. It's then that he notices they have the same shade of hazel eyes. Hazel with a tinge of blue in certain lights which always makes Debra laugh saying that his eyes have no idea what colour to be and change daily.
But that's not important right now. What is important is the fact that she seems to know who he is. Is he that well known among lawyers now. Ohh he's famous. He can't wait to gloat to Debra about that. This just cerements the fact he is the best blood splatter analyst in Miami. Deb is going to be so jealous.
"What can I do for you, Dexter." She asks putting her bag and files back down on the table.
"I hope I'm not butting in but on this case did you run him for pries." He doesn't want to come across as condescending or anything like that. He just wants to help. And he thinks he knows how.
Her eyes narrow towards him. "Yes. Of course, we did. A few cases of drunk driving. But nothing else. Why."
Oh. He's pissing her over. Quickly make your point before she storms off. "Now it might be nothing. And I might be wasting your time, but I don't think this is his first time in court for something like this."
Elizabeth's eyes narrow more at him. But this time not in annoyance. But more curious as to what he means and where he's going with this. "And why do you think that."
"Because of how he's acting. He is playing the role perfectly when everyone is looking but then turns cold and bored when they are not. That says it's not his first time." He explains.
She nods in agreement somewhat. "But we didn't find anything file this. Not even in in his youth."
"What about out of state." He asks and the lawyer freezes. When police run background checks it's normally only a statewide check. Putting everyone through the national database would take too much time and resources and most of the time it comes up empty. But he remembers a time Harry didn't do it and regretted it. "My foster dad was a cop and he got so angry once because someone like this escaped justice. He was done for drunk driving here, but the police only put him through the state system. It was a week later long after the perp was gone that they discovered he was wanted for another hit and run case in another state."
Harry was so angry when he heard that. That the little punk got off with a slap on the wrist was actually a wanted murderer of an eight year old who he hit in the middle of the afternoon. Police had been looking for him for over a year. Harry had him but let him go.
This pushed Harry to make sure Dexter always checked his target's background. To make sure it wasn't just this state something like this happened in. That's the only reason why he thought to ask Elizabeth this. He would hate for something like that to happen again and he was to do nothing about it.
Elizabeth looks at him like he's a genius. "I'll have my assistant get the officers to run him. Just in case."
"Yeah." He utters slightly relieved that she's listening to him and not just brushing him off or getting offended. "If it's nothing I'm sorry to have but in and waste your time."
Elizabeth laughs waving off his apology. "No, I get it. We all want the same thing. Killers to pay for their crimes."
Something in the way she said that strikes him as strange. He guesses it's the wording of pay. And tries not to overthink it. He agrees with that. He does want Killers to pay for what they have done. Prison is how they do that. "That we do."
Elizabeth holds up her hand for him to shake. "It was nice to meet you, Dexter Moser."
"Nice to meet you too Elizabeth Foster." She smiles at him before departing the courtroom. Something about their exchange sits with him. He doesn't understand why but it does. Maybe it's the whole she already heard of him. Or the fact that she listened. Was that why she listened.
He pushes that back for now. It's not that big of a deal.
Unless she's the killer... Hahaha. No that would be silly. It's a man who did all of this. God he really is starting to get paranoid.
Leaving the courthouse, he sees that he has a missed call from Angel and a message about a crime scene. Crime never seems to stop. Grabbing his kit that he had stored in a locker he calls a taxi to the crime scene. He really needs to think about buying or renting a car soon. He can't keep getting taxis everywhere.