Post by jambled on Oct 31, 2006 18:06:32 GMT -5
I’m sorry for the wait; hopefully you haven’t all packed your bags and given up. I wrote an extra long chapter just to make up for it! Thanks for all the lovely, lovely reviews so far.
She woke up slowly, the after effects of the night before slowly bleeding into her subconscious, the way the sun was fanning through the blinds. The headache, already beginning to grip her temples. The steady breathing behind her. The warm arm draped heavy across her middle.
“Crap.”
The clock, which was now reading 7.54, and which either hadn’t gone off, or… Lil picked it up, checked the alarm. She’d set it for PM.
“Damn it.” Putting the clock down heavy enough for the sound to make her head ache, Lil slid out from under Kite’s arm. He stirred, and she paused, watching him. He was more tanned than he’d been before and his hair was longer at the front so a strand fell over his forehead. Hesitantly, Lilly reached forward, almost pushed it back. Deciding against it, she dropped her hand to his arm, shook it.
“It’s nearly eight.” He opened his eyes, stretched, yawned, watched her open and close drawers while she tried to figure out what she was going to wear.
“What?” He was still catching up, and she didn’t blame him. It was late when she’d gotten home, later still when they’d finally fallen asleep and despite the extra hour of sleep, she didn’t think it had been enough.
“Nearly eight. Alarm… Didn’t go off.” She decided to omit the details of exactly why it didn’t go off, not wanting to deal with his smile. He knew she drank too much last night; he’d been her hair holder. He didn’t need a reminder.
“poo poo.” Kite swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his hair. He started putting on his clothes from yesterday while Lil dashed to the shower. Waiting while the hot water came through, she popped two more Panadol and looked at her eyes in the mirror. Not as bloodshot as she’d have thought; she didn’t actually look like she’d been on a bender.
“So, I’m gonna go. Gotta go to the motel, get some clothes.” Kite cracked the bathroom door, spoke over the water.
“Okay.” Lil let the lukewarm water run over her face.
“So…”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” A pause, and he was gone. She knew what the pause was about; last time when they’d been together, every time she’d promised to call him she’d inevitably been caught up with something case related and had forgotten. She wondered whether the track record would hold, or whether she’d get time to call him, tell him… She wasn’t sure what to tell him. He’d given her everything she needed to hear; he loved her, he’d move back to Philadelphia to be with her and his previous resentment at the amount of time she spent at work would be dealt with. Now she had to give him some kind of response. Whether she wanted him to move back. If she loved him. She thought she was beginning to love him, when they were together the first time. Slowly, he’d given her enough chances to slip under his charms, fall prey to the same magic he insisted she’d worked on him. Then, abruptly, he’d ended it and she’d been taught, once again, that falling in love never worked.
Clothes on, shower off and hair roughly brushed into place, Lilly still hadn’t managed to work out what her end of the yet-to-be-carried-out phone conversation would be. Deciding to think about it later while putting her gun on her hip and swearing at the time again, Lil quickly poured the cats some food before rushing out the door.
“Sorry I’m late.” Lil rushed into the office, threw her gun in her locker and came to join the team. Obviously a new case had come in, and she’d missed out on half the briefing. Stillman raised an eyebrow.
“Caught up with something?” She couldn’t read any underlying assumptions in his tone; figured the news of Kite’s return hadn’t reached him yet. Nonetheless, he was there last night and had probably been privy to how much scotch she’d knocked back. There was an upside to growing up with a drunk for a mother, though. Two litres of water and eight Panadol later, she was feeling reasonable. She brushed her hair out of her face, studiously avoided Scotty’s eyes.
“Yeah, just a… Cat emergency.” Lil picked the most obvious of excuses. She’d only used it once before, but that time she hadn’t lied. Olivia had refused to go outside for a week, and still cowered every time she saw a dog. Scotty coughed, and Lil picked up the file, ignored him.
“So, what’ve we got?”
“Woman murdered in her own home, February ‘93. Eleanor Mire. No witnesses, no real suspects.”
“Burglary?” Lilly asked, opening to the crime scene photos.
“Nothing stolen from the scene that the sister could see. No sign of forced entry, though. Looked like she knew the perp, let them in.”
After sorting through the case notes and ringing around to find the original team that had investigated the homicide the first time around, he and Lil had gone to interview the victim’s best friend at the time. Scotty had watched her through the interview, which hadn’t gained them much information, but hadn’t noticed signs of overt tiredness or a hangover. He hated to admit it, but he was dying to know what happened after she shut the door and he drove away. Whether they talked. Whether they did more. If Kite stayed the entire night.
“So, Boss say how we got onto this case?” Lil was reading through the rest of the notes they had out of the file as Scotty drove them back to the office.
“Uh… I think Eleanor’s sister came in early this morning. Their mother’s sick, in a nursing home. Wants to know what happened before she dies.”
“Hm…” Lil pulled out the picture of Eleanor; smiling, one hand out as if she was explaining something to the person operating the camera. It was world’s away from the crime scene photos, which were almost black with the amount of blood that had crept, gushing, out of Eleanor’s slashed throat.
“Nothing from the friend. Alibi still checks out. No apparent motive for her.” Lil idly jiggled her ankle on her knee, taking a sip out of her coffee. She flipped through the crime scene photos again as Kat spoke next.
“We talked to the boyfriend, William Basquiat. His alibi is his current wife. Apparently he was seeing both her and Eleanor, and they had a date that night.”
“You talk to her?” Stillman asked. Vera shook his head.
“She’s some kind of lawyer. So high up in the food chain she had three secretaries and a paralegal block us. Claimed she was in a meeting that couldn’t be interrupted. We’ve got an interview at twelve.”
“When I spoke to the sister this morning, she said it wasn’t likely he did it. Said he was a devout pacifist.” Jeffries said.
“Something strange about him, though. Even if his alibi checks out, I think he deserves another look.” Kat said. Lilly flipped the file shut, put her empty coffee mug on the desk.
“Didn’t seem to be anyone else in her life. Work colleagues, maybe, but from the old interview notes, it doesn’t sound like anyone really knew her that well.”
“Sister said she didn’t have a lot of friends. Kept to herself mostly, worked more hours than she didn’t.”
“Will, you and Scotty track down a few of the people she worked with, see if they have anything new to add now. Start by going to her old firm; it’s still operating. Kat, you and Vera keep your appointment with the wife. Make sure you get her down to details. Lil, I want you to go to the boyfriend; maybe he’ll have had time to think of something else.” Everyone nodded, started collecting their jackets and phones.
“Lil, you feeling all right?” Stillman asked her when he thought everyone else would be out of earshot. She flicked her hair out of her jacket collar, looked affronted at the question.
“Fine, thanks.”
“What was that about?” Kat asked as she and Scotty checked out their guns. Vera overheard her, smiled as everyone trailed him to the lift and he pressed the down button.
“Lil managed to outdrink everyone last night; put together.”
“No way?” Kat looked across to Lil, who was drinking the last of her coffee and skimming through the few notes Vera and Kat had written down about the interview they’d already done. Scotty nodded.
“Seven straight scotches… Maybe eight.”
“Makes my head hurt just thinking about it.” Will said as they got into the lift and, once again, Vera pushed the button.
“You’re not serious. She didn’t pass out?” Kat looked incredulous.
“Could barely tell she’d had anything. She’s gotta have an iron stomach.” They got out at the ground floor and went their separate ways.
She couldn’t believe the boss had asked her how she was. Sure, she’d had more than a few drinks last night and she’d been a little late this morning but it wasn’t as if she wasn’t pulling her weight. If he’d been at the interview she and Scotty had done this morning, he’d have seen she’d asked the questions while Scotty tried to look interested but was sneaking surreptitious glances at her, probably thinking she wouldn’t notice. She wanted to point out to him that she was a detective. She knew he would be wondering how many bases she and Kite had covered. As if it was any of his damn business.
She tucked the interview notes back into the file and viciously pulled her jacket off the chair. She hated office gossip. She didn’t see the need for office gossip. Vera was getting around now his marriage had broken up, but no one really talked about that. Of course, Vera would offer every little detail if asked. It was something about withholding information that got the grapevine going. It wasn’t like she was going to shout from the rooftops, though. It wasn’t like she had anything to shout; she was still considering her words to Kite. He loved her and he wanted her back. And she’d thought it was love the first time around. Something about the way his eyes narrowed when he was figuring something out and the way his hands felt on her bare back and the way he could always find the right thing to say still made her feel like smiling, or laughing out loud. Like the feeling he gave her needed some exterior expression so she could share her happiness with everyone else. And that’s what it was. He made her happy.
“Out on the street, Boss.” Lil called to Stillman as she made her way out, acknowledged his nod. According to Vera and Kat, William Basquiat worked at a pet shop across town. Lil checked her gun and chewed a thumb nail as she waited for the lift. Strange match; pet shop employee and executive corporate lawyer.
Kite wrote another note in the margin of the page. In fifteen minutes he was going to have to give the court evidence of why a man currently awaiting trial for the murders of two Philadelphia cocktail waitresses shouldn’t be allowed bail. He’d like to have just said that the guy was a danger to society since he’d plunged a knife deep into the jugular of his first victim and stood in the blood spray. Of course, the defending lawyer would have something to say about that, and he knew this judge wouldn’t stand for theatrical statements. So he was going to have to come up with something a little more substantial.
“Kite.” The desk phone rang and he grabbed for it, wanting it to be Lil on the other end. He needed a distraction from the crime scene details right about now.
“Hey, Jeremy.” Kite continued reading, filling in another line of his statement to the court. He’d told Jeremy to keep him caught up with everything in Pittsburgh but he hadn’t been expecting a call until tomorrow.
“I faxed everything through when I got to the office this morning. Page three has wit statements. Tell Lisa to call the PD if she needs anything else… Things here? Great… Well, office is a mess but… Okay. I’ve got court in ten, I’ll talk to you later.” Kite hung up the phone and wrote in what he hoped would be convincing enough to keep the cocktail waitresses of the city safe. There were no missed calls on his cell as he pulled it out of his pocket to switch it to vibrate. If she called while he was in court, he’d feel it on his heart.
Lilly walked over to the hot dog stand that set up outside Philly PD sometimes. She was sure it did a roaring trade on those days; cops weren’t exactly known for their excessively healthy eating habits.
“How was Basquiat?” Kat asked, spooning sauerkraut over her dog while Vera looked on with an expression akin to horror. Lil shrugged, shook her head when Will offered her his hot dog. The Panadol had worked for the morning, but the headache was starting to come back. The last thing she’d need would be nausea from fast food.
“He was quiet. Seemed sad about the whole thing.”
“Sad enough to be the doer?” Vera asked as he delicately placed a trail of mustard along his bun.
“I don’t know... Just sad about it. Regretful, maybe. And he’s a committed pacifist.”
“Now there’s a godless religion.” Vera said.
“Apathy as a form of survival.” Lil paid for a bottle of water and took a sip.
“How’d you go with the current wife? She give you anything?” Vera and Kat shared a look before they spoke.
“She’s cold. Told us Eleanor was asking for it, knew William was cheating on her but wouldn’t give him up.”
“Said she was asking for it? You think she had something to do with it?” Lil took another sip of her water, regretted not getting a hot dog as her stomach gave a punctuary growl.
“Woman might have known she was coming in second best to Eleanor.” Jeffries shrugged.
“And a woman like that don’t come second best.” Vera wiped his fingers and threw his serviette in the bin.
“That’s not enough to bring her in. And I’m guessing she’s not volunteering her time.” Vera shook his head.
“Not unless we pay the bill. She flies on $750 an hour at the bare minimum.”
“You do know the DA now, though. Maybe you can use your connections…” Scotty raised an eyebrow at her after he swallowed the last of his lunch. Lil glowered at him. She’d wondered how long it was before he’d bring it up again.
“We need more to go on. There were fingerprints found at the scene… If we could get something from her to compare we might be able to get a warrant signed.”
“So who gets to take first round of staking out the trash can to pick up the used coffee cup?” Vera asked cheerfully.
“See what Boss says- whether he wants us to take that angle.” Lilly preceded them up the stairs, pushed the button when they all reached the lift.
The lift doors opened to reveal her standing, flanked by the rest of her team. She moved a few strands of hair out of her eyes, looked up.
“Hey.” Kite said, moving out of the lift as the detectives stepped in. After court he’d needed to the bail denial signed by the chief detective to verify the reasoning behind it. He’d looked into the third floor homicide room briefly but hadn’t seen her.
“Hey.” She paused, briefly, shot a sideways glance into the lift at the eyes pretending not to stare out at the awkward exchange. She bit her lip and Kite could tell there was more she wanted to say without the ears of her colleagues listening. He wondered whether she’d come up with something to say. Whether she’d come to some kind of decision; whether he should transfer here or not bother unpacking his bags.
With a dull ping, the doors closed and Lil pushed the button for the third floor. She could feel the eyes on her back but, worse than that, she could almost feel Kite giving up. He’d promised to change and she couldn’t manage more than a one word greeting because she was in front of the team despite the fact that he’d bared his soul to her the night before. And was still awaiting an answer.
Without thinking about it anymore, Lil pushed the button for the first floor and stepped out as the lift shuddered to an almost instant stop.
“I’m going to get some lunch. I’ll be back up in a few.” She ignored Scotty’s expression and stepped straight into the second lift which was, surprisingly, paused on the floor as two blues got out, nodding her hello. She nodded back, pushed the ground floor button several times as if it would make the aging doors close faster.
So that vibrating cell phone line was cheesy, but I just couldn’t un-write it. Kite’s a cheesy guy. I mean, really, he sings and he dances. It adds up!
Hope you enjoyed. Please review!
She woke up slowly, the after effects of the night before slowly bleeding into her subconscious, the way the sun was fanning through the blinds. The headache, already beginning to grip her temples. The steady breathing behind her. The warm arm draped heavy across her middle.
“Crap.”
The clock, which was now reading 7.54, and which either hadn’t gone off, or… Lil picked it up, checked the alarm. She’d set it for PM.
“Damn it.” Putting the clock down heavy enough for the sound to make her head ache, Lil slid out from under Kite’s arm. He stirred, and she paused, watching him. He was more tanned than he’d been before and his hair was longer at the front so a strand fell over his forehead. Hesitantly, Lilly reached forward, almost pushed it back. Deciding against it, she dropped her hand to his arm, shook it.
“It’s nearly eight.” He opened his eyes, stretched, yawned, watched her open and close drawers while she tried to figure out what she was going to wear.
“What?” He was still catching up, and she didn’t blame him. It was late when she’d gotten home, later still when they’d finally fallen asleep and despite the extra hour of sleep, she didn’t think it had been enough.
“Nearly eight. Alarm… Didn’t go off.” She decided to omit the details of exactly why it didn’t go off, not wanting to deal with his smile. He knew she drank too much last night; he’d been her hair holder. He didn’t need a reminder.
“poo poo.” Kite swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his hair. He started putting on his clothes from yesterday while Lil dashed to the shower. Waiting while the hot water came through, she popped two more Panadol and looked at her eyes in the mirror. Not as bloodshot as she’d have thought; she didn’t actually look like she’d been on a bender.
“So, I’m gonna go. Gotta go to the motel, get some clothes.” Kite cracked the bathroom door, spoke over the water.
“Okay.” Lil let the lukewarm water run over her face.
“So…”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” A pause, and he was gone. She knew what the pause was about; last time when they’d been together, every time she’d promised to call him she’d inevitably been caught up with something case related and had forgotten. She wondered whether the track record would hold, or whether she’d get time to call him, tell him… She wasn’t sure what to tell him. He’d given her everything she needed to hear; he loved her, he’d move back to Philadelphia to be with her and his previous resentment at the amount of time she spent at work would be dealt with. Now she had to give him some kind of response. Whether she wanted him to move back. If she loved him. She thought she was beginning to love him, when they were together the first time. Slowly, he’d given her enough chances to slip under his charms, fall prey to the same magic he insisted she’d worked on him. Then, abruptly, he’d ended it and she’d been taught, once again, that falling in love never worked.
Clothes on, shower off and hair roughly brushed into place, Lilly still hadn’t managed to work out what her end of the yet-to-be-carried-out phone conversation would be. Deciding to think about it later while putting her gun on her hip and swearing at the time again, Lil quickly poured the cats some food before rushing out the door.
“Sorry I’m late.” Lil rushed into the office, threw her gun in her locker and came to join the team. Obviously a new case had come in, and she’d missed out on half the briefing. Stillman raised an eyebrow.
“Caught up with something?” She couldn’t read any underlying assumptions in his tone; figured the news of Kite’s return hadn’t reached him yet. Nonetheless, he was there last night and had probably been privy to how much scotch she’d knocked back. There was an upside to growing up with a drunk for a mother, though. Two litres of water and eight Panadol later, she was feeling reasonable. She brushed her hair out of her face, studiously avoided Scotty’s eyes.
“Yeah, just a… Cat emergency.” Lil picked the most obvious of excuses. She’d only used it once before, but that time she hadn’t lied. Olivia had refused to go outside for a week, and still cowered every time she saw a dog. Scotty coughed, and Lil picked up the file, ignored him.
“So, what’ve we got?”
“Woman murdered in her own home, February ‘93. Eleanor Mire. No witnesses, no real suspects.”
“Burglary?” Lilly asked, opening to the crime scene photos.
“Nothing stolen from the scene that the sister could see. No sign of forced entry, though. Looked like she knew the perp, let them in.”
After sorting through the case notes and ringing around to find the original team that had investigated the homicide the first time around, he and Lil had gone to interview the victim’s best friend at the time. Scotty had watched her through the interview, which hadn’t gained them much information, but hadn’t noticed signs of overt tiredness or a hangover. He hated to admit it, but he was dying to know what happened after she shut the door and he drove away. Whether they talked. Whether they did more. If Kite stayed the entire night.
“So, Boss say how we got onto this case?” Lil was reading through the rest of the notes they had out of the file as Scotty drove them back to the office.
“Uh… I think Eleanor’s sister came in early this morning. Their mother’s sick, in a nursing home. Wants to know what happened before she dies.”
“Hm…” Lil pulled out the picture of Eleanor; smiling, one hand out as if she was explaining something to the person operating the camera. It was world’s away from the crime scene photos, which were almost black with the amount of blood that had crept, gushing, out of Eleanor’s slashed throat.
“Nothing from the friend. Alibi still checks out. No apparent motive for her.” Lil idly jiggled her ankle on her knee, taking a sip out of her coffee. She flipped through the crime scene photos again as Kat spoke next.
“We talked to the boyfriend, William Basquiat. His alibi is his current wife. Apparently he was seeing both her and Eleanor, and they had a date that night.”
“You talk to her?” Stillman asked. Vera shook his head.
“She’s some kind of lawyer. So high up in the food chain she had three secretaries and a paralegal block us. Claimed she was in a meeting that couldn’t be interrupted. We’ve got an interview at twelve.”
“When I spoke to the sister this morning, she said it wasn’t likely he did it. Said he was a devout pacifist.” Jeffries said.
“Something strange about him, though. Even if his alibi checks out, I think he deserves another look.” Kat said. Lilly flipped the file shut, put her empty coffee mug on the desk.
“Didn’t seem to be anyone else in her life. Work colleagues, maybe, but from the old interview notes, it doesn’t sound like anyone really knew her that well.”
“Sister said she didn’t have a lot of friends. Kept to herself mostly, worked more hours than she didn’t.”
“Will, you and Scotty track down a few of the people she worked with, see if they have anything new to add now. Start by going to her old firm; it’s still operating. Kat, you and Vera keep your appointment with the wife. Make sure you get her down to details. Lil, I want you to go to the boyfriend; maybe he’ll have had time to think of something else.” Everyone nodded, started collecting their jackets and phones.
“Lil, you feeling all right?” Stillman asked her when he thought everyone else would be out of earshot. She flicked her hair out of her jacket collar, looked affronted at the question.
“Fine, thanks.”
“What was that about?” Kat asked as she and Scotty checked out their guns. Vera overheard her, smiled as everyone trailed him to the lift and he pressed the down button.
“Lil managed to outdrink everyone last night; put together.”
“No way?” Kat looked across to Lil, who was drinking the last of her coffee and skimming through the few notes Vera and Kat had written down about the interview they’d already done. Scotty nodded.
“Seven straight scotches… Maybe eight.”
“Makes my head hurt just thinking about it.” Will said as they got into the lift and, once again, Vera pushed the button.
“You’re not serious. She didn’t pass out?” Kat looked incredulous.
“Could barely tell she’d had anything. She’s gotta have an iron stomach.” They got out at the ground floor and went their separate ways.
She couldn’t believe the boss had asked her how she was. Sure, she’d had more than a few drinks last night and she’d been a little late this morning but it wasn’t as if she wasn’t pulling her weight. If he’d been at the interview she and Scotty had done this morning, he’d have seen she’d asked the questions while Scotty tried to look interested but was sneaking surreptitious glances at her, probably thinking she wouldn’t notice. She wanted to point out to him that she was a detective. She knew he would be wondering how many bases she and Kite had covered. As if it was any of his damn business.
She tucked the interview notes back into the file and viciously pulled her jacket off the chair. She hated office gossip. She didn’t see the need for office gossip. Vera was getting around now his marriage had broken up, but no one really talked about that. Of course, Vera would offer every little detail if asked. It was something about withholding information that got the grapevine going. It wasn’t like she was going to shout from the rooftops, though. It wasn’t like she had anything to shout; she was still considering her words to Kite. He loved her and he wanted her back. And she’d thought it was love the first time around. Something about the way his eyes narrowed when he was figuring something out and the way his hands felt on her bare back and the way he could always find the right thing to say still made her feel like smiling, or laughing out loud. Like the feeling he gave her needed some exterior expression so she could share her happiness with everyone else. And that’s what it was. He made her happy.
“Out on the street, Boss.” Lil called to Stillman as she made her way out, acknowledged his nod. According to Vera and Kat, William Basquiat worked at a pet shop across town. Lil checked her gun and chewed a thumb nail as she waited for the lift. Strange match; pet shop employee and executive corporate lawyer.
Kite wrote another note in the margin of the page. In fifteen minutes he was going to have to give the court evidence of why a man currently awaiting trial for the murders of two Philadelphia cocktail waitresses shouldn’t be allowed bail. He’d like to have just said that the guy was a danger to society since he’d plunged a knife deep into the jugular of his first victim and stood in the blood spray. Of course, the defending lawyer would have something to say about that, and he knew this judge wouldn’t stand for theatrical statements. So he was going to have to come up with something a little more substantial.
“Kite.” The desk phone rang and he grabbed for it, wanting it to be Lil on the other end. He needed a distraction from the crime scene details right about now.
“Hey, Jeremy.” Kite continued reading, filling in another line of his statement to the court. He’d told Jeremy to keep him caught up with everything in Pittsburgh but he hadn’t been expecting a call until tomorrow.
“I faxed everything through when I got to the office this morning. Page three has wit statements. Tell Lisa to call the PD if she needs anything else… Things here? Great… Well, office is a mess but… Okay. I’ve got court in ten, I’ll talk to you later.” Kite hung up the phone and wrote in what he hoped would be convincing enough to keep the cocktail waitresses of the city safe. There were no missed calls on his cell as he pulled it out of his pocket to switch it to vibrate. If she called while he was in court, he’d feel it on his heart.
Lilly walked over to the hot dog stand that set up outside Philly PD sometimes. She was sure it did a roaring trade on those days; cops weren’t exactly known for their excessively healthy eating habits.
“How was Basquiat?” Kat asked, spooning sauerkraut over her dog while Vera looked on with an expression akin to horror. Lil shrugged, shook her head when Will offered her his hot dog. The Panadol had worked for the morning, but the headache was starting to come back. The last thing she’d need would be nausea from fast food.
“He was quiet. Seemed sad about the whole thing.”
“Sad enough to be the doer?” Vera asked as he delicately placed a trail of mustard along his bun.
“I don’t know... Just sad about it. Regretful, maybe. And he’s a committed pacifist.”
“Now there’s a godless religion.” Vera said.
“Apathy as a form of survival.” Lil paid for a bottle of water and took a sip.
“How’d you go with the current wife? She give you anything?” Vera and Kat shared a look before they spoke.
“She’s cold. Told us Eleanor was asking for it, knew William was cheating on her but wouldn’t give him up.”
“Said she was asking for it? You think she had something to do with it?” Lil took another sip of her water, regretted not getting a hot dog as her stomach gave a punctuary growl.
“Woman might have known she was coming in second best to Eleanor.” Jeffries shrugged.
“And a woman like that don’t come second best.” Vera wiped his fingers and threw his serviette in the bin.
“That’s not enough to bring her in. And I’m guessing she’s not volunteering her time.” Vera shook his head.
“Not unless we pay the bill. She flies on $750 an hour at the bare minimum.”
“You do know the DA now, though. Maybe you can use your connections…” Scotty raised an eyebrow at her after he swallowed the last of his lunch. Lil glowered at him. She’d wondered how long it was before he’d bring it up again.
“We need more to go on. There were fingerprints found at the scene… If we could get something from her to compare we might be able to get a warrant signed.”
“So who gets to take first round of staking out the trash can to pick up the used coffee cup?” Vera asked cheerfully.
“See what Boss says- whether he wants us to take that angle.” Lilly preceded them up the stairs, pushed the button when they all reached the lift.
The lift doors opened to reveal her standing, flanked by the rest of her team. She moved a few strands of hair out of her eyes, looked up.
“Hey.” Kite said, moving out of the lift as the detectives stepped in. After court he’d needed to the bail denial signed by the chief detective to verify the reasoning behind it. He’d looked into the third floor homicide room briefly but hadn’t seen her.
“Hey.” She paused, briefly, shot a sideways glance into the lift at the eyes pretending not to stare out at the awkward exchange. She bit her lip and Kite could tell there was more she wanted to say without the ears of her colleagues listening. He wondered whether she’d come up with something to say. Whether she’d come to some kind of decision; whether he should transfer here or not bother unpacking his bags.
With a dull ping, the doors closed and Lil pushed the button for the third floor. She could feel the eyes on her back but, worse than that, she could almost feel Kite giving up. He’d promised to change and she couldn’t manage more than a one word greeting because she was in front of the team despite the fact that he’d bared his soul to her the night before. And was still awaiting an answer.
Without thinking about it anymore, Lil pushed the button for the first floor and stepped out as the lift shuddered to an almost instant stop.
“I’m going to get some lunch. I’ll be back up in a few.” She ignored Scotty’s expression and stepped straight into the second lift which was, surprisingly, paused on the floor as two blues got out, nodding her hello. She nodded back, pushed the ground floor button several times as if it would make the aging doors close faster.
So that vibrating cell phone line was cheesy, but I just couldn’t un-write it. Kite’s a cheesy guy. I mean, really, he sings and he dances. It adds up!
Hope you enjoyed. Please review!
