another view<\/a> of the elevated train tracks, one taken from
\ndirectly under them where the viewer’s visual path naturally
\nfollowed the line of the tracks overhead.<\/p>\nBoth photos gave Alex that itchy skin anticipation feeling of
\ndiscovery she associated with learning something new, going
\nsomeplace different, or falling in love. This particular image,
\nlike most of Abbott’s work, made her either want to walk right in
\nor move away quickly. Abbott had a way of capturing the details,
\nelevating the small bits of beauty to something sublime and making
\nthe shadows on every-day fear stand out in sharp relief.<\/p>\n
After slightly more than a year in the prosecutor’s office
\nAlex felt she was skilled at keeping the shadows and sordid details
\nof her professional life at a distance, at keeping them from
\npushing her into something she didn’t want. Jake had shown up at
\nher apartment bearing the usual second hand admonishments from
\ntheir mother, who’d never understood why, having insisted on law
\nschool, Alex hadn’t taken a comparatively cushy position as
\nsomeone’s in-house counsel.<\/p>\n
Their father understood Alex’s ambition, and he almost
\nunderstood Alex’s love life. At least, he understood her need to
\nkeep it private. Jake, Alex smiled at the thought of him, was the
\nblack-sheep of the family when it came to emotion. He felt people
\nshould have them and express them openly.<\/p>\n
Alex was so lost in thought her cell phone was in the middle
\nof its second vibrating ring before she noticed it. “Alex Cabot,”
\nshe said quietly, moving out of the exhibit space and into the
\nhall.<\/p>\n
“Hey,” Olivia said, as she stood waiting for Elliot
\noutside the men’s room in the student center.<\/p>\n
“Hey yourself,” she replied, her pleasure coloring her
\nvoice. “How’s it going?”<\/p>\n
“OK. We won’t be able to do much until Monday when the
\nadministrative offices are open, and we’re going to need a subpoena
\nfor her financials at some point.”<\/p>\n
“Just give me the details on Monday. It shouldn’t be a
\nproblem.”<\/p>\n
Olivia glanced toward the men’s room door. Still closed.
\n“Listen, I know I asked you to keep Sunday free but…deep breath,
\nOlivia<\/span> if you don’t have plans, I was hoping to see you tonight.”
\nOlivia hoped the sound of her clenching teeth didn’t carry through
\nthe cell phone.<\/p>\nOn the other end of the call Alex smiled. “How about your
\nplace, 7:30pm? We can order in and watch a movie, unless you had
\nsomething else in mind?”<\/p>\n
“That sounds perfect,” Olivia said, as Stabler exited the
\nrestroom. “I’ll see you then.”<\/p>\n
She closed the phone and dropped it into her coat pocket.
\nStabler raised an eyebrow. “Can’t leave you alone for a whole day,
\ncan he?”<\/p>\n
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Knock it off, Elliot.”<\/p>\n
“All I’m saying is that it’s nice to see you happy.”<\/p>\n
“And all I’m saying is that when I’m ready to have you
\npry, I’ll let you know.”<\/p>\n
“If you were ready for it, it wouldn’t be prying.”<\/p>\n
“Elliot…”<\/p>\n
Elliot held up his hands. “No mas…I got it.”<\/p>\n
“Good,” Olivia nodded. “So, back to the House to do the
\nnotify and then we can dig through her stuff, see if that tells us
\nanything more about this professor.”<\/p>\n
\nMike Fitzgerald downed this third Cherry Coke in an hour.
\nDrinks were strictly forbidden in the stock room, too many people
\nknocking them over and ruining the merchandise, but Patrick, Mike
\nsmirked at the thought of his mincing discomfort with Mike after
\nthe detectives had left, was turning a blind eye in the face of the
\nnews about Kathleen. Kathleen…why did you have to be so damn
\nstupid about it?<\/span> He shook his head, trying to get rid of the
\nimage of her that bubbled up from his memory. Their second date,
\nshe’d gotten ice cream on her nose and had walked around not wiping
\nin off just to see how long it would take him to notice. He
\ncrushed the Coke can and sent it arcing toward the trash bin across
\nthe room. It bounced and clattered behind the tall can. Damn it!
\nStupid, stupid bitch.<\/span> Mike jingled the change in his pocket and
\nheaded over to the convenience store side of the operation.<\/p>\n
\n“Can I help whoever is next?”<\/p>\n
Alex stepped toward the counter with her completed paperwork
\nin hand. The clerk took it, comparing her id to her paper work.
\nShe looked up with a smile. “I’m just going to need a credit card
\non file against late fees or unreturned rental charges and you’re
\nall set.”<\/p>\n
“Great,” Alex said, handing the requested card across the
\ncounter. “So, I can pick something out right now?”<\/p>\n
“Absolutely,” the clerk said, swiping Alex’s card through
\nthe computer terminal’s reader and handing it back to her. “You
\nactually get one free in the first six weeks as a sign-up bonus.”<\/p>\n
Alex smiled her thanks and made her way deeper into the store.
\nThe clerk sighed and put the completed membership application in
\nthe to-be-filed box under the counter. And would that I were the
\nlucky person who gets to watch that movie with her tonight.<\/span><\/p>\n“Who’s next?”<\/p>\n
\nRaymond hung up the phone, his free hand clenched nearly to
\nthe point of drawing blood from his palm with his fingernails. The
\npolice were already involved in Kathleen’s death. Dowd felt his
\nstomach begin to clench. He crossed the room to the liquor
\ncabinet, pulled out a bottle of bourbon and highball glass, and
\npoured himself a two-finger shot. Dowd contemplated the amber
\nliquid. He knocked back the shot, wiping his mouth with the back
\nof his hand.<\/p>\n
\nStabler looked up from the first of Kathleen’s diaries as
\nOlivia placed the receiver in the phone’s cradle. “Parents will
\nbe here tomorrow. They’re coming from Nebraska.”<\/p>\n
“The ME isn’t going to be able to release the body until
\nafter the autopsy. Monday afternoon at the earliest.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded, rubbing the back of her neck. “I told them.
\nThey said they’d be here tomorrow anyway. Anything useful in
\nthere?”<\/p>\n
“You mean like the name of our mysterious professor?
\nNothing so far. According to her pay stubs, her work-study
\nassignment was in the history department. You find anything on
\nFitzgerald?”<\/p>\n
“Misdemeanor possession and a drunk and disorderly. The ‘probation’ was probably an
\nacademic disciplinary measure.” Olivia got up and walked around the
\ndesk. She rummaged through the cardboard box holding Kathleen’s
\npapers. She pulled a pink sheet out of the box, unfolded it, and
\nscanned it. “Elliot…it seems Kathleen was about to make Mom and
\nDad proud grandparents.”<\/p>\n
\n“Are you going to see her tonight?”<\/p>\n
“Doesn’t ‘you’re on your own for dinner and
\nentertainment’ imply that to you, Jake,” Alex said, standing in
\nfront of her open closet as she tried to figure out what to wear
\nfor the evening before she got into the shower.<\/p>\n
Jake chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned against the
\nbedroom door frame. Alex pondered the closet’s contents a few
\nmoments longer. She caught herself biting her lip and suppressed
\na smile. She crossed to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer,
\npulled out a royal blue, v-neck sweater, and laid it on the bed.<\/p>\n
“Not a good choice.”<\/p>\n
“What makes you think your opinion is wanted or needed in
\nthis matter,” Alex asked, her eyebrows raised with surprise.<\/p>\n
“Since when have I ever waited until you asked for my
\nopinion?”<\/p>\n
Alex made no reply, hoping her best prosecutor stare did the
\ntalking for her.<\/p>\n
Jake shook his head. “Uh, uh, not this time, sis. The ADA bit
\nisn’t going to work, not when I know I’m right.”<\/p>\n
“Alright, smart guy, tell me why it isn’t a good choice,”
\nAlex said, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice.<\/p>\n
Jake crossed the room to the bed. He felt the sweater
\nmaterial between a thumb and forefinger. “Soft, that’s a plus. The
\ncolor will be good on you,” he said with a grin. “The problem with
\nthis is that while I’m sure you’ll look very good, it’s not exactly
\neasy access now is it, Alex?”<\/p>\n
Alex felt the flush of anger creeping up her neck from her
\nchest. “You presume way too much,” Alex said finally, her voice
\nhard edged.<\/p>\n
Jake shrugged and shook his head. “All I’m saying is that
\nbased on what I saw this morning I don’t expect to be seeing you
\nuntil early afternoon on Sunday.”<\/p>\n
Damn it.<\/span> “You may have a point.”<\/p>\n“You want my advice,” Jake said, grinning. “Take this
\nfor Sunday brunch, which I expect to be invited to. Wear something
\nwith buttons tonight. You won’t be sorry.”<\/p>\n
He winked at her, turned, and headed out of the room and
\ntoward the kitchen. Alex could hear him humming softly not quite
\nunder his breath. She grinned in spite of her annoyance and headed
\nback to the closet.<\/p>\n
\nOlivia glanced at her watch. She checked the inside of her
\nmug. Empty.<\/span> She fought the urge to look at her watch again,
\ntapping her pen on the open diary in front of her.<\/p>\n“Go home.”<\/p>\n
She looked up to find Elliot regarding her steadily from
\nacross the desk.<\/p>\n
“You’re making me nervous,” he continued. “Forensics
\nwon’t be back until tomorrow. The ME’s backed up. There’s
\nnothing left that needs both of us to do it today. Go home
\nalready. Get ready for whatever it is you’re doing tonight that
\nI’m not prying into,” he said with a grin.<\/p>\n
“You sure?”<\/p>\n
“Positive. Just tell me one thing.”<\/p>\n
“What,” Olivia said as she shrugged on her coat.<\/p>\n
“He’s awfully patient about your work hours.” Stabler leaned
\nback in his chair. “That’s not something I’ve noticed in the
\ncivvies you’ve dated. Is this guy on the job?”<\/p>\n
“Sort of,” she said, buttoning her coat.<\/p>\n
“Sort of? How can you be sort of on the job?”<\/p>\n
Olivia grinned at him. “You’re so smart, you figure it out.”<\/p>\n
\nAlex barely felt Olivia’s hand come to rest on her hip she was
\nso focused on the velvet of Olivia’s mouth against hers. She
\npulled back slightly, breaking the kiss, and slid her free hand up
\nOlivia’s arm. The material of the navy-blue sweater Olivia wore
\nwas butter-soft against Alex’s palm.<\/p>\n
“Hello to you too,” she said with a smile. “You keep
\nkissing me like that I’m going to drop the wine.”<\/p>\n
“We can’t have that, now can we? What else have you got
\nin that bag?” Olivia released Alex from her embrace and moved to
\ntake Alex’s package from her.<\/p>\n
Alex shook her head, extracting the bottle of wine from the
\nbag. “It’s a surprise.” She held out the bottle for Olivia.<\/p>\n
“Then I’ll let it be a surprise,” Olivia said, moving
\ninto the kitchen area, bottle in hand. “Make yourself comfortable,
\ndinner should be here soon.”<\/p>\n
Alex put the plastic bag on the coffee table and curled into
\nthe end seat on the couch. She noted the DVD player on the shelf
\nunder Olivia’s TV with a small grin. Pays to have a good memory
\nsometimes.<\/span> “How was your day?”<\/p>\n“It was OK,” Olivia replied from the kitchen. “We didn’t
\nmake much progress on the case. Forensics is backed up. How was
\nyours?”<\/p>\n
“Good, relaxing.”<\/p>\n
Olivia moved out of the kitchen and crossed to the couch, full
\nwine glasses in hand. “Here you go.”<\/p>\n
Alex took the glass of Valpolicella Olivia held out. Olivia
\nsat down next to her, resting her free hand casually on Alex’s
\ndenim clad thigh. Just let it happen, Alex. You don’t have to
\ncontrol everything<\/span>, she thought, resisting the urge to try to calm
\nher racing pulse. “Thanks. There is a great exhibit at the Met I
\nhaven’t had time to see. I finally got to it today.”<\/p>\n“Really, which one,” Olivia asked, trying to ignore the
\nsinking sensation in her stomach.<\/p>\n
“Changing New York. The whole show is black and whites
\nfrom the 1930s, all by the same woman photographer. I think you
\nwould like it. It shows a New York that might have a different
\nimpact on you as a native than it does on me as a transplant. I’d
\nbe willing to go again if you’re interested,” Alex said, taking a
\nsip of wine.<\/p>\n
“It sounds great. Damn it, there goes Sunday’s
\nsurprise.<\/span> “Did Jake go with you?”<\/p>\nAlex shook her head. “No, he had some fraternity charity event
\nto go to. Ostensibly, his reason for being in town.”<\/p>\n
“You don’t think that’s why he’s really here though, do
\nyou?”<\/p>\n
Alex considered the question as she ran a finger around the
\nrim of her wine glass.<\/p>\n
Tease,<\/span> Olivia thought, fighting both the grin that wanted to
\nspread itself across her face and the desire to make Alex forget
\nall about the arriving dinner, the movie, and the wine glass in her
\nhand. The black, cotton dress shirt she wore put Alex’s blonde
\nhair and light skin in sharp relief. Olivia hadn’t missed the
\nstrategic number of buttons Alex had chosen to leave undone giving
\nthe imagination just enough room to work overtime.<\/p>\nAlex looked up to find Olivia watching her intently. “No, I
\ndon’t think it is,” Alex said finally.<\/p>\n
“He mentioned something about you not going home for
\nThanksgiving.”<\/p>\n
Alex swallowed a sip of wine. “I thought I’d spend the holiday
\nin the city this year.”<\/p>\n
“A little early to decide that, isn’t it,” Olivia asked,
\nher thumb moving in a slow circle against the top of Alex’s thigh.<\/p>\n
Alex paused trying to gauge Olivia’s mood. Something told her
\nthat Olivia didn’t just mean the date on the calendar. “The first
\nweek in November is not too early to start thinking about where to
\nspend Thanksgiving, not when my family is involved.”<\/p>\n
“Your family’s important to you.” Olivia reversed the
\ndirection in which her thumb was moving against Alex’s thigh. She
\nwas rewarded with a soft smile.<\/p>\n
“Very. What about yours?”<\/p>\n
The front-door intercom buzzed.<\/p>\n
Saved.<\/span> “I think dinner is here,” Olivia said, getting
\nup to answer the second buzz from the intercom.<\/p>\n
\nDowd hammered on the mahogany door with his clenched fist for
\nthe third time. He caught a small glimpse of himself in the brass
\nknocker he’d chosen to ignore. Dowd looked down at this half
\ntucked-in shirt. He had his hand down the back of his pants trying
\nto manage the shirt’s tail when the door swung open.<\/p>\n
“Ray? What in the hell is the matter?”<\/p>\n
Dowd looked up to find anger warring with concern in the
\nexpression of the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences. Joel
\nRutherford put his hand on Dowd’s back and walked him into the
\nhouse. The miasma of bourbon around Dowd was palpable. Rutherford
\nshut the door. “What’s going on, Ray?”<\/p>\n
“She’s dead, Joel.” Dowd burst into tears, covering his
\nface with his hands. “I loved her and she’s dead.”<\/p>\n
Rutherford swallowed hard. He led Dowd down the hall and into
\nhis study. Bourbon was starting to sound like just the thing.<\/p>\n
\n“I don’t understand why this has got you so bothered,
\nElliot,” Kathy said, pushing the cut celery off the cutting board
\ninto the stew pot. “It’s not like Olivia hasn’t dated before.”<\/p>\n
Stabler shut the refrigerator, twisted the top off the bottle
\nof beer he’d taken out of the big box, and tossed the cap into the
\ntrash can. “Not bothered, curious. It’s like she dared me to spy
\non her,” he said swallowing a swig of beer. “I can’t not do it.”<\/p>\n
“You can, and you will, and stop eating my carrots.”
\nKathy tapped him lightly on the back of the hand that was sneaking
\nacross the cutting board to the growing pile of vegetables. Elliot
\ngrinned at his wife.<\/p>\n
Charmer.<\/span> She smiled. “You really want to find out,
\ninvite them over for dinner.”<\/p>\n“Never work. She won’t bring him until she’s ready, and
\nprobably not even then.” He took another sip from the beer bottle.<\/p>\n
“It’s like taking your boyfriend home to meet the folks. Worse,
\nmost parents don’t carry a gun around for a living.”<\/p>\n
“Have you asked her for Thanksgiving yet? I think it’s
\nimportant. After all, this is her first year without her mother.”<\/p>\n
“We’re not going to your parents’ ?”<\/p>\n
“Don’t you remember,” she said, leaning in and kissing
\nhim lightly on the lips. “They’re coming here.”<\/p>\n
She turned her back, cutting board in hand, and crossed to the
\nstove. Elliot rolled his eyes and took another swig from his beer.<\/p>\n
\n“Wait, so Victor knows that Rick has the letters of
\ntransit. Ilsa knows Rick has the letters of transit. Renault
\nknows he’s got them, and Strasser suspects he’s got them.” Alex
\nticked the points off on her fingers as she went through them.<\/p>\n
“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, running her fingers through Alex’s
\nhair.<\/p>\n
“So why doesn’t Strasser just arrest him then?”<\/p>\n
Olivia smiled, planting a kiss on the top of Alex’s head.
\nApples again.<\/span> Given their position it was easy for Olivia to do.<\/p>\nAlex had nestled between Olivia’s thighs, leaning back against
\nher as they both stretched their legs out on the couch. They’d
\nspent the better part of forty minutes like this, Alex’s fingers
\nbrushing against the inside of Olivia’s arm which lay draped
\nlightly over Alex’s shoulder and across her chest.<\/p>\n
Olivia’s sock clad foot spooned against Alex’s calf where
\ntheir legs twined together. The warm smell of shampoo, and soap,
\nand skin wafted up enveloping Olivia in Alex’s scent. “Because he
\ndoesn’t have jurisdiction, and because it’s art.”<\/p>\n
“They’re Nazis. Why do they care about jurisdiction?”<\/p>\n
“They have to maintain the illusion that Vichy France is
\nactually operating independent of Nazi rule.”<\/p>\n
Alex nodded. Olivia was suddenly sure that Alex could feel
\nthe throbbing pulse between her legs that was spurred on as much by
\nAlex’s light touch as by their proximity and position.<\/p>\n
“Right. A separate peace so the Nazis wouldn’t burn down
\nParis.”<\/p>\n
“Exactly,” Olivia said, hitting PLAY on the DVD player’s
\nremote. “And it’s art.”<\/p>\n
The rest of the movie unfolded on the screen as they lay
\ntogether on the couch touching with an air of casualness Olivia was
\nfinding it increasingly difficult to maintain. As Rick and Captain
\nRenault walked off into the black and white fog, Alex turned
\nwithin Olivia’s embrace. She stretched up and kissed Olivia
\nlightly. “You were right. It was lovely.”<\/p>\n
“I’m glad you liked it. Thank you for bringing it. That
\nprobably puts us even in the courting department,” Olivia said with
\na grin.<\/p>\n
Alex smiled. “Jake was flabbergasted when I told him I hadn’t
\nseen it.”<\/p>\n
“So, your brother’s better educated than his big sister.”<\/p>\n
Alex arched an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that I like the way you
\nsay ‘big sister.’ He is not that much younger than I am.”<\/p>\n
Olivia motioned for Alex to sit up. She got up off the couch.
\n“How much is ‘not that much’?” She removed the DVD from the
\nmachine, and put it back in the rental box. Alex’s other choice
\nhad been The Maltese Falcon. Not something I would have picked
\nfor a date but still<\/span>, Olivia thought, crossing back to the couch
\nafter putting the other movie in the DVD’s tray. She sat facing
\nAlex.<\/p>\n“Three years.”<\/p>\n
“Which makes him…”<\/p>\n
“Twenty-six in December. Very sneaky, Detective.”<\/p>\n
Olivia’s smile hid her surprise. 29…I don’t think I even
\nremember being 29.<\/span><\/p>\nAlex stroked Olivia’s knee, her fingers straying up the inside
\nof Olivia’s thigh. “So, why didn’t your parents give you a brother
\nor sister to boss around?” Alex sensed rather than felt Olivia
\nstiffen up. Alex tilted her head, waiting for Olivia to speak in
\nher own time.<\/p>\n
Olivia looked away. When she looked back, Alex’s gaze was
\nfilled with sympathy.<\/p>\n
“It’s too soon after your Mom?”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded, feeling both relief and a sense of dread at the
\nsmall lie. She leaned in and kissed Alex softly, her tongue gentle
\nbetween Alex’s lips as she pushed her self control to its limit.
\nBy the time she pulled back, Alex’s face was flushed.<\/p>\n
“Let’s do something else besides talk about our families,
\nOK,” Olivia suggested, her voice low.<\/p>\n
“Did you have anything in mind?”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded. She clicked off the TV with the remote, then
\nshe grasped Alex’s hand, pulled her up from the couch, and led her
\nto the bedroom.<\/p>\n
\nMike Fitzgerald knocked back another beer. He sat next to the
\nserving station because it got him his beers from the bartender
\nquicker, but it also got him a chance to chat with the waitresses.
\nBillie was the only one who gave Mike the time of day. It’s those
\nblue eyes and that dark hair. Man, instant fucking hard-on. And
\nthat’s all she really needs to turn her around too.<\/span> The corner of
\nhis mouth turned up in a smirk. Mike felt someone hovering near
\nhis elbow. “Hey Dana,” he said, turning his head to find out who
\nwas in his personal space.<\/p>\n“Hi Mike,” she said, squeezing between him and the guy
\nnext to him at the bar. “I’m sorry about Kathleen.”<\/p>\n
A blurred image of Dana, half naked, swam to the bleary
\nsurface of Mike’s mind. Without context for it, he just nodded. He
\nfelt Dana’s hand slide up the inside of his thigh.<\/p>\n
“If there’s anything I can do…”<\/p>\n
“Yeah, I’ll let you know. Thanks.”<\/p>\n
Dana stared at him for a second, removed her hand, and shoved
\nher way through the crowd toward the door. Good riddance. To
\nnever go where many have boldly gone before.<\/span> Mike ordered
\nanother beer.<\/p>\nAfter 6 beers and a bit of polite conversation from Billie,
\nMike’s confidence level was in the stratosphere. He’d tried to
\ntalk to her the last time she’d come to pick up an order but the
\nbartender had stopped him. She gave him a thin smile as she moved
\naway from the bar into the Knicks-mad crowd with a fully loaded
\ntray.<\/p>\n
“Man, give her a break,” the bartender said, putting some
\nempties in the bar back’s bin. “She’s working a double today.”<\/p>\n
Mike just nodded and ordered another beer. In a few hours,
\nmaybe she’d be ready to have him walk her home.<\/p>\n
\nJoel Rutherford snapped off the desk lamp after picking up the
\ntwo glasses from the coffee table. He moved quietly out of the
\nstudy and shut the door on Raymond Dowd’s drunken snores. Affairs
\nbetween students and professors were nothing new. There’d been
\nthat near disaster with the womens literature professor and the
\nstarting forward on the girls basketball team the previous spring.
\nRutherford shook his head to clear away the image that leapt to his
\nmind’s eye. Between crying jags it had taken Dowd an hour to give
\nRutherford all the details. Rutherford considered the high-ball
\nglass in his hand for a second. Deciding against another drink, he
\nput the glass next to the sink and turned out the kitchen light.<\/p>\n
The question for Rutherford wasn’t Dowd’s innocence or guilt
\nin the matter of Kathleen’s death; Rutherford absolutely believed
\nhis friend’s claim that the young woman had been dead when he’d
\narrived at her dorm room. For Rutherford, the question was his
\nnext move. He sighed as he trudged up the stairs to his own bed.
\nA student death on top of what is shaping up into a doozy of a
\nmid-term cheating scandal. It’s times like these I almost envy the
\nCatholics and their confessionals.<\/span><\/p>\nRutherford flicked off the hall light from the wall switch and
\nquietly shut the door to his bedroom behind him.<\/p>\n
\n“Oh god, Alex…”<\/p>\n
The husky moan kick started her already satiated system as
\nAlex felt a soft throbbing begin anew between her legs. Alex
\ngrinned and raised her head to look up at Olivia. “Something
\nwrong,” she asked, her tone packed with as much innocence as she
\ncould muster.<\/p>\n
“Nothing except for the way you tease.” A slight smile
\ntinted Olivia’s voice.<\/p>\n
Olivia, who had insisted on long, slow exploration their last
\ntime together, had been bruising heat once they’d reached the
\nbedroom. Alex’s climax had been hard and fast under Olivia’s
\ninsistent fingers. Finding the buttons to her shirt in the morning
\nwas a task Alex wasn’t relishing.<\/p>\n
Alex said nothing as lowered her mouth to Olivia’s swollen
\nmound. She inhaled the rich, musky aroma of Olivia’s excitement as
\nshe slowly parted Olivia’s lips and found her clit.<\/p>\n
Alex suppressed another grin as Olivia moaned. She began to
\nwork in earnest, starting with long, slow strokes with the flat of
\nher tongue gradually narrowing her focus, increasing the intensity
\nand speed with which her tongue moved over Olivia’s aroused,
\nhypersensitive organ.<\/p>\n
She moved her fingers to Olivia’s wet, open center and applied
\na small bit of pressure. Olivia spread her legs slightly, moving
\nher lips farther apart. Taking the cue, Alex slid her first two
\nfingers inside.<\/p>\n
“Alex…” God…just breathe.<\/span><\/p>\nThe tone of the single word was all the encouragement Alex
\nneeded. Quickly, the movement of her fingers synced with the fluid
\nmotion of her tongue. Alex glanced up to find Olivia, her face and
\nchest flushed and her eyes shut tightly, rolling one pebble-hard
\nnipple between her thumb and forefinger. Alex’s senses focused to
\na sharp point with one goal in mind as she returned to
\nconcentrating on keeping her fingers and mouth consistent.<\/p>\n
Alex felt Olivia’s orgasm begin as her thighs went rigid.
\nOlivia’s horse cry and the rhythmic pressure on her thrusting
\nfingers let Alex know her concentration had paid off. She allowed
\nherself a sly smile, her mouth curving against the slippery pillows
\nof Olivia’s lips. Once Olivia was spent, Alex slowly withdrew.<\/p>\n
Olivia shivered as Alex completed her exodus. “Tissues,”
\nOlivia muttered, not daring to open her eyes as she gestured weakly
\ntoward the night stand.<\/p>\n
“I am going to need more than that this time,
\nsweetheart,” Alex said with a grin.<\/p>\n
Alex pulled the sheet over Olivia after she got out of bed and
\npadded naked out of the bedroom. In the bath, Alex washed her face
\nand hands. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, hair mussed,
\nface flushed with effort and arousal. Sweetheart? Jesus,
\nAlexandra. Trying to scare her off?<\/span><\/p>\nOlivia had pulled the blanket up while Alex was gone. She
\nflipped the covers over and motioned Alex into bed. Alex settled
\non her side, tucked into the curve of Olivia’s arm. Olivia pulled
\nthe sheet and blanket over her. “Thank you.” She tilted her head
\ndown and kissed Alex lightly.<\/p>\n
“My pleasure.”<\/p>\n
“Not entirely,” Olivia said, grinning. “Is this what you
\nhad in mind when you suggested dinner and a movie at my place?”<\/p>\n
“No, this is what I had in mind for after dinner a couple
\nof weeks ago.”<\/p>\n
Olivia stroked Alex’s hair. Despite the endorphins coursing
\nthrough her system, a small part of Olivia twisted, fighting the
\ndesire to relax and be comfortable. The tears she’d managed to hold
\noff as Alex had withdrawn from inside her had formed a hard lump in
\nher chest.<\/p>\n
“Is Jake expecting you home tonight,” Olivia asked to
\nfill the silence.<\/p>\n
“He is most definitely not expecting me. He told me
\nthat in no uncertain terms. In fact, he’d probably be disappointed
\nif I did come home. He expects to be invited to brunch tomrrow
\nthough.”<\/p>\n
Brunch…<\/span> “What happened to not wanting an audience?”<\/p>\n“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Olivia
\nfelt Alex’s smile against her shoulder.<\/p>\n
“Hum…I guess. Is he planning on having someone over
\ntonight?”<\/p>\n
“In my bed? He may be a wise ass but his manners are
\nbetter than that.”<\/p>\n
Olivia’s hand moved to Alex’s arm, her fingers making idle
\ncircles against Alex’s bicep. “Tell me more about your family.”<\/p>\n
Alex propped her head on her hand and looked at Olivia. Her
\nexpression was completely unreadable as Alex searched Olivia’s face
\nfor a clue to her mood.<\/p>\n
“They’re important to you. I’d like to know more about
\nthem,” Olivia said, kissing Alex again. “More about you.”<\/p>\n
Alex smiled softly. “OK, Detective. Just remember, you asked
\nfor it.”<\/p>\n
\nBillie propped Mike up against the wall next to the passcard
\nreader outside his dorm’s main door. He grinned at her, oblivious
\nto the reek of vomit on his breath. Billie sighed. “Mike,
\nwhere’s your passcard?”<\/p>\n
“‘s in my wallet,” he muttered, scraping at his front
\npocket with his right hand, unable to muster the small amount of
\ndexterity it took to actually reach into the pocket.<\/p>\n
Billie pushed his hand away and reached into his pocket for
\nthe wallet.<\/p>\n
“Oh baby…” Mike lurched forward and threw his arm over
\nBillie’s shoulder.<\/p>\n
“Get off it, Mike,” she said, pushing him off and yanking
\nthe wallet out of his pocket. “If Kathleen wasn’t my best friend
\nyou’d be spending the night on the park bench I found you on.”<\/p>\n
She managed to swipe his pass card and get him into the
\nbuilding. She leaned him against the wall and punched for the
\nelevator. Kathleen is so going to owe me for this.<\/span> She jabbed
\nthe elevator button again as Mike burped noisily. He held his
\nfingers up in front of his mouth to try to quiet the sound after
\nthe fact.<\/p>\nThe stairwell door next to the elevator opened and Billie’s
\nfriend Jill emerged carrying a laundry basket. “Hey girl, what’s
\nup,” Jill asked, balancing the basket on her hip.<\/p>\n
Billie jerked her thumb over her shoulder. Jill’s eyebrows
\nrose. Mike wiggled his fingers at Jill in greeting.<\/p>\n
“Isn’t that Kathleen’s boyfriend?”<\/p>\n
“Yeah, he’s had a few.”<\/p>\n
“Nine…or was it ten,” Mike slurred, regarding the
\nfingers he held up with the utmost interest.<\/p>\n
Billie rolled her eyes. “Corporal work of mercy.”<\/p>\n
“So you’re not leaving the sisterhood then,” Jill asked
\nwith a grin.<\/p>\n
Mike burped wetly. Billie shook her head.<\/p>\n
“In the immortal words of Janice Joplin ‘not a fucking
\nchance honey’.”<\/p>\n
The sound of Jill’s laughter followed them into the elevator.
\nThe trip to the third floor was enough to send Mike’s head spinning
\nagain. Billie swiped the passcard and opened the door to his room.
\nMike pushed the door wider and staggered over to the bed. He
\ndropped on to it face down. Thank god. Just what I needed was to
\nhave to roll him over.<\/span> She unlaced and removed Mike’s shoes.
\nBillie was covering him with a blanket from the floor when Mike
\nmoved his hand to her arm. He raised his head up off the bed.<\/p>\n“I didn’t mean it you know.”<\/p>\n
“It’s OK, Mike. Kathleen doesn’t have to know you spent
\nthe evening hitting on everything female and breathing.”<\/p>\n
“Kathleen…” Mike made a raspberry noise with his lips.
\n“All she had to do was not fall in love with the old fart and it
\nwould have been OK. Don’t you see? That’s all she had to do.”<\/p>\n
Mike’s head dropped to the bed as he passed out. Billie pried
\nMike’s fingers from her forearm. She dropped his passcard and
\nwallet on the dresser. Breakfast with Kathleen tomorrow was going
\nto be interesting. Billie closed the door quietly and moved down
\nthe hall to the elevator. She considered the elevator for a
\nsecond, then pushed open the stairwell door. She smiled to
\nherself, remembering some of Jill’s more inventive ideas about how
\nto they could kill time while they did their laundry sophomore
\nyear.<\/p>\n
\nElliot was pouring his first cup of coffee at the office when
\nOlivia got to the squadroom Monday morning. She draped her coat
\nover the back of her chair, picked up her mug off her desk, and
\nmade her way over to the coffee hotplates.<\/p>\n
“Morning,” she said with a smile. “You look like you got
\nsome sleep.”<\/p>\n
“Some. How was the rest of your weekend?”<\/p>\n
Olivia poured some hot water over the tea bag she’d dropped
\ninto her mug. “Good. Mostly relaxing.” Except for the grilling I
\ngot from my girlfriend’s brother over brunch on Sunday.
\nGirlfriend…where the hell did that come from?<\/span><\/p>\n“Does that mean whatever I didn’t pry into was a
\nsuccess?”<\/p>\n
Olivia just grinned at him and made her way back to her desk.
\nShe pulled two new files out of her inbox. The top one was the
\nforensics report on Kathleen Farrell. Olivia set that aside and
\nsipped from her mug. The second file was tagged as originating in
\nthe ADA’s office. The thought of the ADA’s office brought thoughts
\nof a particular ADA which brought an involuntary smile.<\/p>\n
She flipped open the manila folder and scanned its contents.
\nOlivia’s stomach knotted around the tea she’d just swallowed.<\/p>\n
Elliot caught her expression. “What’s up?”<\/p>\n
Olivia handed the court notice across the desk to him. “They
\nwant me to testify at Darrell Guan’s appeal.”<\/p>\n
Elliot scanned the document. He handed it back to her. “It’s
\nprobably nothing. Look, it’s not just you, it says ‘arresting
\nofficers.’ That means I’m up for one of these too.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded, not quite believing him.<\/p>\n
“Is that the forensics on Kathleen Farrell?”<\/p>\n
“Yeah,” Olivia said, flipping open the other folder.
\n“Nothing about evidence of rape, they pass that off to the ME. No
\nDNA match in CODIS on the semen from the condom. That would have
\nbeen too easy.”<\/p>\n
“When’s the autopsy?”<\/p>\n
Olivia glanced at her watch. “Soon.”<\/p>\n
“We stop to eat they’ll be done and have the results by
\nthe time we get there.”<\/p>\n
“I don’t know how you do the morgue on a full stomach.”<\/p>\n
“Better than trying to do food afterward,” Stabler said
\nwith a wry grin.<\/p>\n
Olivia shook her head and shrugged into her coat.<\/p>\n
\n“Your girl wasn’t raped.”<\/p>\n
Stabler glanced at Olivia. “You sure we’re talking about the
\nsame girl,” he asked.<\/p>\n
“Kathleen Farrell, age 21, found dead in her dorm room at
\nHudson University on Saturday morning,” Medical Examiner Melinda
\nWarner said.<\/p>\n
“That’s the one,” Olivia said.<\/p>\n
“She wasn’t raped. I found evidence of recent
\nintercourse but no signs of bruising or any of the other trauma
\nassociated with forced sexual contact. Also, she was pregnant.
\nAbout 10 weeks on.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded. “She had positive test results from the
\nstudent health center in her papers.”<\/p>\n
“I sent a sample for a CVS test in case you need to prove
\npaternity later.”<\/p>\n
“What was the cause of death,” Elliot asked.<\/p>\n
Warner crossed to the autopsy table. She pointed to some red
\nmarks on both sides of Kathleen’s neck.<\/p>\n
“Manual strangulation combined with intracranial
\nbleeding. This bruise on her temple is from a blow that probably
\nknocked her out, made her more pliable. Also, whoever did this to
\nthis girl used a considerable amount of force to hold her down.
\nThere’s a bruise here,” Warner said, indicating an oval shaped red
\nmark between Kathleen’s breasts. “which seems consistent with
\nrestraint. I’m thinking maybe a knee, possibly a forearm.”<\/p>\n
“So, what, sex game gone bad,” Olivia asked Elliot.<\/p>\n
“Possibly. Guy realizes he’s gone too far, strips off
\nthe condom, covers her up, and leaves in a panic.”<\/p>\n
“Condom?” Warner looked from Olivia to Elliot.<\/p>\n
“CSU found a used condom, still warm, in the trash can in
\nher room,” Elliot said.<\/p>\n
“The evidence of intercourse I found was a sample inside
\nher that was at least 12 hours old. I sent that and some skin I
\nfound under her finger nails off to the DNA lab for cross
\nmatching.”<\/p>\n
“I think we may be looking for two guys,” Olivia said,
\nglancing at her partner.<\/p>\n
\nJill Franklin wasn’t surprised to see the cops when she got to
\nwork Monday. She shook her head, remembering Billie’s tears
\nSaturday night. Jill’s work-study job in Student Records kept her
\nin the loop about most of the happenings on campus the
\nadministration would rather the student body didn’t know about.
\nThe policy was clear on how police inquiries should be handled.
\n“Let me get Mrs. Marks for you,” Jill said to Stabler.<\/p>\n
“Thanks.”<\/p>\n
Jill did her best to get as much information as she could out
\nof the conversation she eavesdropped on between Marks and the
\ndetectives. Master prevaricators at work, all three of them<\/span>,
\nJill thought, smiling to herself as she listened to Marks refuse to
\ngive them anything more than Kathleen Farrell’s class schedule and
\nwork-study assignment. Jill waited a few beats after they’d left.<\/p>\n“Mrs. Marks, I’m going to get some coffee. Would you
\nlike any,” Jill asked, pulling on her sweatshirt.<\/p>\n
“Decaf, please. After that, my nerves don’t need the
\ncaffeine.”<\/p>\n
Jill jogged up to Olivia and Elliot as they stood on the
\nsidewalk outside the administration building.<\/p>\n
“You guys get everything you need from Mrs. Marks,” Jill
\nasked, shoving her hands into the kangaroo pocket on the front of
\nher sweatshirt.<\/p>\n
Olivia looked at Stabler. “You sound like you’ve got more to
\ntell us,” she said, turning her attention back to Jill.<\/p>\n
“Not me,” Jill shook her head. “Try Kathleen’s best
\nfriend. Billie Chambers. They talked about everything. If
\nanybody can give you the 411 on Kathleen, it’ll be Billie.”<\/p>\n
“Where can we find Billie?”<\/p>\n
“The Rat…rathskeller, across campus. Working the lunch
\nshift.”<\/p>\n
Olivia pulled a card out of her coat pocket and handed it to
\nJill. “If you hear anything else, don’t hesitate to call.”<\/p>\n
Olivia and Elliot made their way across campus to the
\nrathskeller. Once inside the pub, Olivia motioned for the
\nbartender. She flashed her badge at him discreetly and asked for
\nBillie.<\/p>\n
“Take that booth if you like,” the bartender said,
\nmotioning behind them. “I’ll send her over.”<\/p>\n
Stabler and Olivia slid into opposite sides of the booth while
\nthe bartender walked farther down the bar to speak with a slim
\nyoung woman with dark hair.<\/p>\n
“Her,” Elliot said, looking at Olivia and raising his
\neyebrows.<\/p>\n
“It’s short for Wilhelmina, and the only person who calls
\nme that is my grandmother,” Billie said, coming to a stop at the
\nend of the booth.<\/p>\n
“I’m Detective Benson. This is my partner, Detective
\nStabler.”<\/p>\n
Billie set her tray down on the table and slid into the booth
\nnext to Stabler. The better to see you, Detective<\/span>, she thought,
\ntaking Olivia in with a glance. Olivia didn’t miss the appraisal.
\nNeither did Stabler.<\/p>\n“You guys want to know about Kathleen. Ask.”<\/p>\n
Olivia couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. “Most people
\naren’t so forthcoming when we show up.”<\/p>\n
“Most people probably didn’t just find out their best
\nfriend since childhood was raped and killed in her own room.”<\/p>\n
“Fair enough.”<\/p>\n
“Tell us about Kathleen’s love life, Billie,” Stabler
\nsaid, taking his notebook out of his pocket and flipping it open.<\/p>\n
“Complicated. Mike Fitzgerald, you guys talked to him
\nyet?”<\/p>\n
“Say we didn’t,” Olivia said, folding her hands on the
\ntable.<\/p>\n
“Mike’s a piece of work,” Billie said, picking one of the
\nnapkins up off her tray and pulling off a corner. “He’s drunk or
\nstoned most of the time. Says he loves her, then hits on anything
\nfemale that has a pulse. He tried to get her into some test paper
\nscam or something. She only told me enough about it to know it
\nsounded like typical Mike, bad news from the beginning.”<\/p>\n
“Did she do what Mike wanted,” Olivia asked.<\/p>\n
“I don’t know. Look, I loved Kathleen like a sister but
\nshe was keeping a lot of stuff to herself lately. We were supposed
\nto have breakfast yesterday. I worked a double Saturday and didn’t
\neven find out she was dead until after I got off at closing.”<\/p>\n
“Do you know if she was confiding in anyone else?”<\/p>\n
Billie pulled more chunks off the paper napkin and
\ndropped them into the pile in front of her. “Maybe someone from
\nher psych study group. It was the one she spent the most time
\nwith.”<\/p>\n
Stabler made some notes. “We heard a rumor that she was
\nseeing one of her professors.”<\/p>\n
“She wouldn’t say which one,” Billie nodded, shredding
\nmore of the napkin. “She’d convinced herself she was in love with
\nhim. I have to give her this, she committed with more enthusiasm
\nthan I ever have. Ironic all things considered.”<\/p>\n
“How do you mean,” Olivia asked.<\/p>\n
Billie looked right into Olivia’s eyes. “You know how it is,
\nDetective, the old second date curse.”<\/p>\n
Stabler looked from one woman to the other. Billie dropped
\nher gaze down to the pile of napkin shreds on the table.<\/p>\n
“Billie, can you think of anything else that might have
\nbeen troubling Kathleen,” Olivia asked.<\/p>\n
“She mentioned having news when I talked to her Friday
\nnight but she didn’t say what. She was going to tell me at
\nbreakfast. Look, I should probably get back to work.”<\/p>\n
“One last question,” Stabler said. “Did she have any
\nsort of financial problems? Owe anyone any money?”<\/p>\n
“Far from it. We’re both on academic scholarship, so
\nmoney was usually tight but Kathleen’s been pretty flush for the
\npast month or so.”<\/p>\n
Billie slid out of the booth and picked up her tray. Olivia
\npulled a business card out of her jacket pocket.<\/p>\n
“If you think of anything else that might help…”<\/p>\n
“I’ll call.”<\/p>\n
She took the card from Olivia, slipped it into her apron, and
\nheaded back down the bar toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n
“‘Second date curse’,” Elliot asked, pausing outside the
\nbar to put on his sunglasses.<\/p>\n
“Got me.”<\/p>\n
“Unless I missed something, that’s the second 20 year old
\nfemale in less than an hour who’s flirted with you.”<\/p>\n
“It’s the badge, Elliot. People assume things. You know
\nhow it is.” And, apparently, I’m suddenly giving off a very dykey
\nvibe.<\/span><\/p>\nStabler nodded, falling into step beside his partner. “History
\ndepartment?”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded.<\/p>\n
\nAlex suppressed a sigh as she handed the menu back to the
\nwaiter. She could have called to let the squad know she’d gotten
\nthe subpoena for Kathleen Farrell’s financials but she made the
\ntrip over on the off chance of seeing Olivia. Cragen’s big grin of
\nwelcome and the invitation to lunch were nice, but not fully
\nsatisfying.<\/p>\n
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, Counselor.”<\/p>\n
“Your detectives have been keeping me busy, Don,” Alex
\nsaid, spreading the napkin over her lap. “They’re delivering me
\nsolid cases.”<\/p>\n
“Good to know. What’s this I hear about the Guan case
\ngoing to appeal?”<\/p>\n
Alex swallowed the sip of water she’d just taken. “Pretty
\nstandard. They’re claiming their expert’s testimony was not given
\nthe weight it should have been given. They have a new study
\nsuggesting that while genetics aren’t fully responsible for
\nbehavior, they predispose someone enough that if the environment is
\nunstable or hostile that person can’t be held responsible.” She
\nbroke a piece of bread from the basket in half and placed both
\nhalves on her bread plate. “Basically, they’re trying to blame
\nSusan Guan for her son’s actions.”<\/p>\n
“Olivia tells me she’s been called to testify. Is
\nStabler getting a notice too?”<\/p>\n
“It should be in his inbox today.”<\/p>\n
Cragen nodded. “That’s good,” he said, digging into the salad
\ntheir waiter had just delivered. “The case had Olivia a little
\nspooked in the first place. When her notice arrived and Elliot
\ndidn’t get one I think she was afraid they were going to drag her
\nfamily history into it.”<\/p>\n
“What family history?”<\/p>\n
\n“When do you expect him back,” Elliot asked, trying to
\nkeep the irritation out of his voice.<\/p>\n
“I expected Dr. Dowd for classes today, Detective. I’m
\nthe department’s secretary not his mother. If he says he’s sick,
\nhe’ll be in when he feels better. His TA had to give his mid-term
\ntoday.”<\/p>\n
The secretary shut the file cabinet drawer with a bang.
\nStabler clenched his jaw.<\/p>\n
Olivia stepped forward. “Mrs. Jenks, we have reason to believe
\nthat Kathleen was romantically involved with one of the professors
\nin this department. If you know anything that can help us you need
\nto tell us now.”<\/p>\n
Olivia watched as Marla Jenks’ gaze dropped to the floor. “We
\nalso have reason to believe that this man may be the father of
\nKathleen’s unborn child,” Olivia continued.<\/p>\n
Jenks sighed. She opened the top right hand drawer of her
\ndesk. She pulled out a list of faculty members names and home
\naddresses, scribbled something on a piece of scrap paper and handed
\nit across the desk to Olivia. “You didn’t get that from me.”<\/p>\n
“And I’m sure we can rely on your discretion regarding
\nKathleen’s condition,” Olivia said, folding the sheet and slipping
\nit into her pocket.<\/p>\n
Jenks looked from Olivia’s face to Stabler’s. She swallowed
\na lump in her throat and nodded.<\/p>\n
\n“I honestly don’t know anything much about Kathleen’s
\npersonal life,” Brian Mercer said, dropping onto a bench outside
\nthe psychology building.<\/p>\n
Stabler sat down on the bench next to him. Olivia stood near
\nthe end.<\/p>\n
“We talked to one of the other members of your study
\ngroup, Dana. She said you had something of a crush on Kathleen,”
\nOlivia said, hovering over Brian.<\/p>\n
Brian blushed. He unlaced one inline skate and pulled it
\noff. “Yeah. Kathleen was pretty cool about it. She took me out
\nto dinner about a month ago. It wasn’t your standard ‘I just want
\nto be friends’ speech either. She said she understood what it was
\nlike and that she was flattered.”<\/p>\n
“You sound like a pretty easy guy to get along with,
\nBrian.” Stabler turned from gazing at the quad to look at Brian.<\/p>\n
Brian pulled off the other inline skate. “Yeah, wimp central
\nright? Look, Kathleen was a babe. Smart, funny, kind. Way, way
\nout of my league.” He patted the spare tire around his middle.<\/p>\n
“Besides, she had it bad for Professor Dowd.” He pushed one of
\nthe inline skates into his backpack.<\/p>\n
“What makes you say that,” Olivia asked, pushing her
\nhands into her coat pockets.<\/p>\n
Brian put on one of the high-top shoes he’d pulled out of
\nhis backpack. “Dana told me they were an item, seemed kind of
\npissed off about it too. Said Kathleen told her she was pregnant.
\nImagine,” He stuck his foot in the other high-top and laced it.
\n“fatherhood at 45.” The clock tower on the quad chimed 15 minutes
\nto the hour. “Look, I’ve got class.”<\/p>\n
Mercer shoved his other inline skate into his bag and
\nheaded into the psychology building. Olivia looked at Elliot.
\n“She lied about knowing which professor Kathleen was seeing.”<\/p>\n
“Yep,” he said, folding a stick of gum into his mouth.
\n“Now we just need to find out why.”<\/p>\n
\nMike Fitzgerald’s head felt like it was being dismantled from
\nthe brain outward. He’d woken up Sunday afternoon, still drunk,
\nwet from the waist down, and not a clue how he’d gotten home. Hair
\nof the dog on Sunday after a brisk business during the day had
\nturned into six or seven beers, and a bitch of a hangover on Monday
\nmorning.<\/p>\n
He sat on the bench outside the bookstore smoking one last
\ncigarette before punching in. His storehouse of exams was almost
\ndepleted and he wanted to get rid of the last of them before the
\ncops came back around. Mike flicked his cigarette butt into the
\nstreet and went inside the bookstore.<\/p>\n
\nIt took every ounce of control Alex had not to fling her
\nbriefcase on to her desk and slam her office door. Damn it!<\/span>
\nAlex thought back to brunch on Sunday morning and the way Olivia
\nhad asked, and artfully dodged, many questions. The hot stab of
\nanger gave way to a sick feeling of betrayal. How could I have
\nbeen so blind?<\/span> Her musings were interrupted by the ring of the
\nphone on her desk.<\/p>\n“Alex Cabot.” She paused to listen. “Just let me get my
\nactive cases together and I’ll be right up, Liz.”<\/p>\n
\n“Kathleen and I were very close, yes,” Raymond Dowd said,
\ncrossing his legs and smoothing out a wrinkle in his pant leg.<\/p>\n
“How close is very,” Stabler asked.<\/p>\n
“I’m not sure I understand you, Detective.”<\/p>\n
Elliot leaned forward. “I think you do.”<\/p>\n
Dowd paled under Elliot’s stare. He got up from his chair and
\nmoved toward the liquor cabinet. Halfway there he changed his
\nmind, turned around, and shoved his hands in his pants pockets. He
\ntook a deep breath and released it with a sigh. “My career is over
\nanyway.”<\/p>\n
Stabler glanced at his partner, and back to Dowd.<\/p>\n
“I loved Kathleen, and she said she loved me,” Dowd
\ncontinued. “I know you may find that hard to believe, that a
\nbeautiful, attractive young woman like that could love a balding,
\npot-bellied old history professor, but I believed her.”<\/p>\n
Dowd paused. He cleared his throat. “It took me a while to
\ntrust her, to believe that what she said she felt for me was real.
\nLast semester I had a student develop a crush. I couldn’t figure
\nout why. I didn’t encourage her but she persisted.”<\/p>\n
“What was this girl’s name?”<\/p>\n
“Vorhees, Dana Vorhees. One of Kathleen’s friends,
\nactually. Kind of ironic.”<\/p>\n
Olivia and Elliot exchanged a questioning look. “Persisted
\nhow,” Stabler asked.<\/p>\n
“Sending notes, e-mails, the tone of which got more an
\nmore unstable with each one. When she started showing up in
\ncourses I was teaching which I knew she wasn’t registered for I had
\ncampus police speak with her. That pretty much took care of it.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded. “When was the last time you saw Kathleen?”<\/p>\n
“Friday night. We had dinner and spent some time
\ntogether after that. She called me from her dorm room around
\n12:30am to say she’d made it home OK.”<\/p>\n
“What did you talk about over dinner?”<\/p>\n
“She said she had some news but we never got to it.
\nThere was a break-in at my office earlier in the week. All my old
\nexams were stolen.”<\/p>\n
Stabler nodded. “That had you worried.”<\/p>\n
“Yes. It was too late to develop new questions for this
\nyear’s batch of mid-terms and all the exams for my classes are
\nbased on previous years tests. There’s no telling what happened to
\nthose exams.”<\/p>\n
“How many exams are we talking about,” Olivia asked.<\/p>\n
Dowd’s attention shifted to Olivia. “Everything for the
\nfreshman introductory class. That’s three sessions of two hundred
\nkids each. Plus, all the exams for my 300 level classes, History
\nof Reform Movements and History of U.S. Military Policy. That’s
\nanother sixty to seventy students.”<\/p>\n
“Did you suspect Kathleen,” Elliot asked.<\/p>\n
Dowd sighed. He sat back down in the wing chair across from
\nthe couch where Stabler and Olivia both sat. “No. I suspected
\nthat louse of an ex-boyfriend of hers, and I told her as much.”<\/p>\n
“Ex-boyfriend,” Olivia said, raising an eyebrow.<\/p>\n
“Mike something. He’d been placed on academic probation
\nthe previous fall term for selling a paper he bought off the
\ninternet to another student.”<\/p>\n
“Other than his history, why suspect this kid,” Stabler
\nasked, leaning back against the couch.<\/p>\n
“I’d misplaced my keys a few weeks ago. It turned out
\nKathleen had them. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I think she gave
\nthem to this Mike to copy. There was no forced entry to my office.
\nI confronted her about it over dinner but she put me off. I let her
\nbecause I really didn’t want to know.”<\/p>\n
“If she loved you, why would she give your keys to him,”
\nElliot asked, searching Dowd’s face.<\/p>\n
“I wish I knew, Detective. He had some sort of emotional
\nhold on her. It don’t think it was anything vicious, or even
\nconscious on his part,” Dowd said, catching an exchanged look
\nbetween the two police officers. “Kathleen was molested by a
\ncousin when she was 12. She’d recently, through some serious
\ntherapy, come to realize that all the boys she’d dated in some way
\nresembled this cousin. She knew it wasn’t healthy. Honestly, I
\nthink that’s part of what she found attractive about me, that I was
\nnothing like them.”<\/p>\n
Olivia crossed her legs. “Did you know Kathleen was
\npregnant, Professor Dowd?”<\/p>\n
Dowd’s face drained of color as he shook his head. “I had no
\nidea.” He paused, swallowing hard. “She wanted to meet for
\nbreakfast on Saturday around 8:30am but she…she never showed up.”
\nDowd’s gaze slipped away from Olivia’s face.<\/p>\n
Stabler looked at his partner, eyebrows raised in question.<\/p>\n
“Professor, were you and Kathleen intimate on Friday
\nnight,” Stabler asked.<\/p>\n
Dowd nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line.<\/p>\n
“Would you be willing to give us a DNA sample,” Stabler
\nasked.<\/p>\n
“Why?”<\/p>\n
“The ME is still trying to determine whether or not
\nKathleen was assaulted. We want to be able to rule you out from
\nany other evidence she might find.”<\/p>\n
Dowd nodded is agreement, lips still pressed firmly together,
\nhis pallor more than a little sickly. And it’ll tell you if I’m
\nthe father of that baby, won’t it detectives.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n“Well, it’s official, we’re looking for a second guy,”
\nOlivia said, hanging up her coat.<\/p>\n
Stabler looked up from the bank statement he was reading.
\nCragen came out of his office at the sound of Olivia’s voice. He
\nstopped next to Stabler’s desk. “There was no match on the DNA,”
\nCragen asked, crossing his arms.<\/p>\n
“It was a match on the sample Warner found inside her,
\nand for the fetus. Dowd’s the father. No match for the condom or
\nfor the fingernail scrapings,” Olivia said, fixing herself a fresh
\nmug of tea. “They’re going to cross match the DNA from the condom
\nand from under her fingernails. Tomorrow’s the soonest they can
\nget us results.”<\/p>\n
“Her financials are pretty interesting. One of our
\nwitnesses said she was on scholarship, right,” Stabler said,
\nholding up the bank statement.<\/p>\n
“Right.” Olivia sipped from her mug.<\/p>\n
“There was a $5,000 deposit to her checking account last
\nweek. Regular deposits of $75 a week as far back as we have
\nstatements. I’m betting the $75 was what Mom and Dad could afford
\nto send her in support money. Where’d the $5,000 come from?”<\/p>\n
“OK, theory,” Olivia said, sitting down at her desk. She
\npicked up a pen and started rolling it between her hands.<\/p>\n
“Fitzgerald approaches her with the exam scheme. She says yes,
\ncozies up to our professor to get the access, falls in love with
\nhim, and tells the boyfriend. He’s jealous but willing to deal
\nwith it because of the money coming in. She tells him she’s
\npregnant and he snaps.”<\/p>\n
“Or,” Elliot leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his
\nhead. “She doesn’t tell him she’s pregnant but tells him she’s
\ncutting him off on the exams, killing his cash flow.”<\/p>\n
“Either way, get this kid Fitzgerald into interview
\ntomorrow,” Cragen said, looking at his watch. “Right now, I want
\nyou both to go home. Don’t come back for at least 10 hours.
\nOlivia, my office please.”<\/p>\n
Cragen turned and walked back into his office. Olivia looked
\nat Elliot, her question written all over her face. Stabler
\nshrugged. Olivia crossed to Cragen’s office.<\/p>\n
“What’s up, Cap?”<\/p>\n
“Shut the door, would you, then have a seat.”<\/p>\n
Olivia shut the door. She sat down in the visitor chair that
\nfaced Cragen’s desk.<\/p>\n
“I had lunch with Cabot today.”<\/p>\n
Fuck…<\/span> “OK…”<\/p>\n“The Guan appeal came up in conversation. Olivia, I had
\nno idea she didn’t know your family circumstances. I’m sorry.”
\nCragen’s expression was one of genuine regret. “It wasn’t my place
\nto reveal that kind of information to someone you have to work
\nwith.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded, fighting the twisting feeling in her gut.<\/p>\n
“I made an assumption that you’d told her, and once the
\ncat was out of the bag…” he continued, his voice soft. “I just
\nthought you’d want to know.”<\/p>\n
Double fuck.<\/span> “Thanks for telling me, Captain. It’s not
\na problem, really.”<\/p>\nCragen nodded his thanks for her forgiveness. Olivia went
\nback to her desk. She looked at the phone. In person. It’s the
\nonly way.<\/span><\/p>\n“Everything OK,” Stabler asked, adjusting the collar on
\nhis coat.<\/p>\n
“Yeah, fine.”<\/p>\n
Olivia stacked the files on her desk and switched off her desk
\nlamp. She swung on her coat and followed Stabler out the door.<\/p>\n
\nAlex held her left index finger on the open page in the case
\nlaw book just under the title of the citation she wanted to use.
\nShe made a note of the case and appropriate statute on a legal pad
\nwith her other hand. A soft knock on the door prompted her to
\nglance at the clock on her desk. 7:45pm<\/span><\/p>\n“Come in.”<\/p>\n
“Hi,” Olivia said, opening the door, stepping in, and
\nshutting the door behind her.<\/p>\n
Olivia noted Alex’s pin-striped suit, light blue shirt, and
\nglasses in a quick glance. Alex’s relaxed elegance only added to
\nOlivia’s nerves. It wouldn’t be any easier even if I weren’t so
\ndamn attracted to her,<\/span> she thought.<\/p>\n“What can I do for you, Detective,” Alex said, her tone
\nicy.<\/p>\n
Olivia shoved her hands in her pants pockets. “That answers my
\nfirst question.”<\/p>\n
Alex said nothing. She tapped her pen on the legal pad.<\/p>\n
“You don’t have anything to say?”<\/p>\n
“You lied to me, Olivia. What am I supposed to say?
\nThank you?”<\/p>\n
“I never actually lied, Alex.”<\/p>\n
“When I asked why you didn’t have any brothers or sisters
\nyou led me to believe you didn’t want to talk about it because it
\nwas still too soon after your mother’s death.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded. “Not entirely false.”<\/p>\n
“But not entirely true, either,” Alex said, raising one
\neyebrow.<\/p>\n
“You’re right. I wasn’t completely honest with you.”<\/p>\n
“Honesty is something of a prerequisite, Olivia.” Alex
\nleaned back in her chair.<\/p>\n
“That’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it, coming from a woman
\nwho believes men have ‘social uses,'” Olivia said, crossing her
\narms.<\/p>\n
Oh no you don’t.<\/span> Alex leaned forward, her cheeks flushed.
\n“I’ve never been anything but completely honest with you about who
\nI am or how I conduct my life. Discretion and dishonesty are not
\nthe same thing and you know it.”<\/p>\nOlivia sighed and dropped into one of the visitor chairs in
\nfront of Alex’s desk. I get one shot, and this is it.<\/span> She
\nswallowed hard, staring off into the space above and behind Alex.
\nAlex watched a series of emotions run across Olivia’s unguarded
\nface. When Olivia finally met Alex’s gaze, her eyes were moist.<\/p>\n“You know exactly who you are, Alex, where you came from.
\nThe only thing I know about my father is that he raped my mother.
\nYou can probably trace your roots all the way back to the god damn
\nMayflower. How am I supposed to measure up to that? To all that
\nhistory?”<\/p>\n
The backwash of adrenaline from the anger Alex felt was
\nreplaced by a hot surge of guilt. She took off her glasses and
\nlaid them on the open case law book. She came around the end of
\nthe desk and sat down in the other visitor chair.<\/p>\n
“Don’t you dare pity me,” Olivia said, her voice cracking
\nslightly.<\/p>\n
Alex smiled softly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Pity?
\nSomeone strong enough to deal with that?<\/span> Alex pushed aside the
\nsadness she felt rising in her chest. She reached out and stroked
\nOlivia’s forearm until the other woman turned and looked at her.
\n“I don’t expect you to measure up. I expect you to be who you are
\nand to let me figure out if I want to be with that person or if I
\ndon’t.”<\/p>\nOlivia swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, her still
\nmoist eyes sliding away from Alex’s. Alex slid her hand down
\nOlivia’s arm. She twined her fingers with Olivia’s. Alex waited
\nuntil Olivia’s eyes met hers again before she spoke.<\/p>\n
“I can’t stand being lied to, Olivia. I won’t tolerate
\nit.” Alex caught the anger that sparked in Olivia’s eyes and
\nknotted the muscles in her jaw. Alex took a deep breath and
\ncontinued. “I let passion convince me to ignore being lied to once
\nbefore in a relationship. That willful blindness cost me, dearly.”
\nHer eyes held Olivia’s gaze. “I never wanted to feel like that
\nagain after it was over, but that’s how I felt today at lunch with
\nCragen.”<\/p>\n
“How did you feel,” Olivia asked, her eyes searching
\nAlex’s face. Her anger was replaced by a bubble of surprise at
\nAlex’s admission.<\/p>\n
“Betrayed…and foolish for trusting you.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded, her expression grim and her face pale. Sort of
\nthe way I felt when a half-naked guy walked out of your bedroom
\nSaturday morning.<\/span> Olivia rubbed her thumb across the back of
\nAlex’s hand. They sat in silence for a few moments.<\/p>\n“I…”\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0\u00c2\u00a0“Can we..”<\/p>\n
Olivia smiled. “Please…”<\/p>\n
“Can we agree not to do this again,” Alex asked.<\/p>\n
“I’d like to avoid it, yes.”<\/p>\n
“Good.” Alex consciously pushed away the tightness in her
\nchest again. “Have you eaten yet?”<\/p>\n
Olivia shook her head. Alex smiled.<\/p>\n
“Why don’t we get out of here then.”<\/p>\n
\nDinner turned out to be ordering-in Chinese at Alex’s. The
\ncab ride to her apartment had been quiet. Olivia had spent the
\ntime staring out the window, lost in thought. Alex had spent the
\nride alternately staring at Olivia’s profile, fighting the urge
\nto reach out and touch, and staring out her own window, unable to
\ncontrol the sadness spreading through her as she thought about what
\nOlivia’s childhood must have been like, about how it must have felt
\nto mature as a woman carrying the knowledge of her conception.<\/p>\n
The two women sat next to each other on the couch, not quite
\ntouching, cartons arrayed in front of them on the coffee table.
\nOlivia’s hand brushed Alex’s as they reached for the beef and
\nbroccoli at the same time. Olivia withdrew her hand, as if the
\ncontact burned.<\/p>\n
Oh hell…not by halves, Alex.<\/span> Alex put down her
\nchopsticks. She turned toward Olivia, leaned forward, and kissed
\nher softly. Alex parted Olivia’s lips with the tip of her tongue
\nexploring the inner edges of Olivia’s mouth. Olivia responded
\ntentatively at first, relaxing after a few seconds as the tip of
\nher tongue flicked against Alex’s. Alex broke the kiss. Sweet
\nand sour chicken…not my favorite. Still…<\/span> Alex licked her lips
\nand smiled.<\/p>\nOlivia laughed. “Thanks.”<\/p>\n
“For what?”<\/p>\n
“Giving me a second chance,” Olivia said, stroking the
\ntop of Alex’s thigh.<\/p>\n
Alex turned back to the table, picked up the carton of beef
\nand broccoli with one hand, and her chopsticks with the other. She
\nextracted a broccoli floret. The touch of Olivia’s hand pulled at
\nher physically while some small part of her held still, refusing to
\ngive in. “Do we need to talk about this some more?”<\/p>\n
“Not unless you have questions for me,” Olivia said,
\ntilting her head.<\/p>\n
Alex crunched the broccoli stalk. She used the time it took
\nto chew and swallow to fully squash her curiosity. “Can I take a
\nrain check,” she said finally.<\/p>\n
“Absolutely.” Olivia nodded.<\/p>\n
“Tell me how the Farrell case is progressing.”<\/p>\n
Olivia updated Alex on the interviews she and Stabler had done
\nduring the day as they finished the meal. Alex was putting the
\nlast plate in the dishwasher when a thought crossed Olivia’s mind.<\/p>\n
“Have you ever heard of the ‘second date curse,” she
\nasked, leaning on the counter of the kitchen’s pass through.<\/p>\n
“In what context? Tea?”<\/p>\n
“Please.”<\/p>\n
Alex put a box of Plantation Mint, a box of Raspberry Royale,
\nand a box of Lipton’s black on the counter. Olivia looked through
\nthem, chose a Plantation Mint, and handed the bag to Alex. “One of
\nour interviews today mentioned something about committing and the
\n‘second date curse.'”<\/p>\n
Alex laughed as she poured hot water from the kettle she’d set
\nto boil earlier into the mug with Olivia’s tea bag. “What does a
\nlesbian bring on a second date?”<\/p>\n
“What,” Olivia said, arching an eyebrow.<\/p>\n
“A U-Haul.”<\/p>\n
Olivia gave her a quizzical look. Alex handed her the mug of
\ntea and left the kitchen. She sat on the couch, mug of coffee in
\nhand.<\/p>\n
“Women are famous for over-committing.”<\/p>\n
“Are we really,” Olivia said, sitting down next to Alex.<\/p>\n
Alex nodded and took a sip from her mug. “So how old was this
\ngirl, and was she cute,” Alex asked, her eyes flicking sideways to
\ncatch a glimpse of Olivia’s face.<\/p>\n
“21 or so, and striking more than cute. Blue eyes, dark
\nhair.”<\/p>\n
“Um…your type?” And what are you going to say if she
\nanswers yes?<\/span><\/p>\n“Not really. There is this one beautiful, whip-smart
\nblonde that’s got my attention though.” Olivia moved closer,
\nleaned in, and lifted the fall of her hair to expose Alex’s neck.<\/p>\n
Alex leaned back, away from Olivia, a small smile touching her
\nlips. “Now who’s flattering, Detective?”<\/p>\n
“Is it going to get me somewhere?”<\/p>\n
Alex took another sip from her mug. “It might.”<\/p>\n
Olivia leaned in and kissed Alex on the side of her neck just
\nbelow her ear. Not so easy. It doesn’t all just disappear
\nbecause you kiss me like that<\/span>, Alex thought even as a shiver of arousal ran through her, quieting some of the sorrow she felt. She
\ntook another sip of coffee.<\/p>\n“How am I doing so far?” Olivia’s question was a whisper
\nagainst Alex’s skin. She held her breath waiting for Alex’s
\nanswer.<\/p>\n
“When you get to a stopping point, I’ll let you know,”
\nAlex replied finally.<\/p>\n
\n“You guys have a little problem with your sample,” DNA
\nAnalyst Danny Wu said to Olivia and Elliot.<\/p>\n
“What kind of problem,” Stabler asked, crossing his arms.<\/p>\n
“The sample taken at the ME’s office from your suspect
\nmatches what was found in your victim at the autopsy. It also
\nproves paternity.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded. “Tell us something we don’t know, Danny.”<\/p>\n
“There was a hair recovered from the victim’s clothing
\nthat doesn’t match your victim or your suspect. Plus, the DNA from
\nthe sample inside the condom found at the scene doesn’t match the
\nscrapings from under your dead girl’s fingernails.”<\/p>\n
“Wait…you said from inside the condom,” Stabler said.<\/p>\n
Wu grinned. “I got here a little early this morning, for once
\nthe D train was on time. I took a sample from the outside of the
\ncondom. Any sort of sexual activity is going to leave DNA on both
\nsides of the barrier.”<\/p>\n
Wu held up two transparencies. He slid one over the other to
\nmatch up the DNA markers. “The DNA from the outside of the condom
\nmatches the fingernail scrapings, it’s XX, and it’s not from your
\nvictim. You’re looking for a woman, guys.”<\/p>\n
\nMike Fitzgerald sat at the green, metal table bouncing his
\nknee and trying not to stare into the mirror opposite him.
\nFucking one-way glass. Do they think nobody watches TV?<\/span><\/p>\nOlivia, Elliot, and Alex stood on the other side of the glass
\nwatching him.<\/p>\n
“How long’s he been in there,” Stabler asked.<\/p>\n
“Twenty minutes,” Olivia said, checking her watch.<\/p>\n
“Ready?”<\/p>\n
Stabler shook his head. “Let’s see what you can get out of
\nhim. I think with me in there he’ll just clam up.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded and went into the interview room. Alex watched
\nher out of the room before turning toward the glass. Elliot didn’t
\nmiss the small bit of extra attention Alex gave her. He filed the
\nobservation for later consideration.<\/p>\n
Olivia dropped a manila folder on the table and sat down
\nacross from Mike. She studied him for a several seconds giving the
\nimpression she was considering a very interesting stain on a bit of
\ncarpet.<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“I’m just wondering what a girl like Kathleen saw in
\nyou.”<\/p>\n
She opened the folder. “Kathleen was a great student. Mostly
\nA’s, a couple of B’s here and there. Volunteered, was involved in
\ncampus life. You, you’re lucky if you can manage the gentleman’s
\nC. You’ve been on academic probation twice, and according to this,
\nyou’re in violation because you spent Saturday night pounding down
\nbeers in the campus pub.”<\/p>\n
Mike sat up in his chair. “Look, I had a few, OK. Someone
\nkills your girlfriend you’ll probably go out and have a few too.”
\nBitch.<\/span><\/p>\nOlivia’s eyes narrowed. On the other side of the one-way
\nglass, Stabler’s eyes flicked over to catch Alex’s expression.
\nAlex was utterly relaxed, her face neutral as she concentrated on
\nthe interview in progress.<\/p>\n
Olivia leaned forward. “See, we don’t think it was ‘someone’,
\nMike. We figure you for this.”<\/p>\n
“Well, you figure wrong then,” he said, slouching back
\ndown in his chair. “I had lunch with her Friday between Econ and
\nwork and never saw her again. Besides, I loved her. I didn’t have
\nany reason to kill her.”<\/p>\n
“Sure you did. She cut you off. She took her cut, the
\n5 grand, and cut you off.”<\/p>\n
Mike shot her a puzzled look.<\/p>\n
“We know about the exams. We’ve already talked to Dowd.”<\/p>\n
“You can’t prove I took them.”<\/p>\n
“Yeah, we can. Kathleen gave Dowd his keys back. She
\nsaid you had them.” Blatant lie but worth a shot.<\/span><\/p>\nMike’s eyes narrowed as Olivia’s bluff worked its way into his
\nbrain. “Fucking bitch, I knew it! She told me since she was the
\none who had to get his keys she deserved a bigger piece. I told
\nher since I was taking all the risk, going to the office, making
\nthe contacts, there was no way she was getting more than thirty
\npercent,” he said stabbing the table in front of him with his index
\nfinger.<\/p>\n
On the other side of the glass Stabler glanced at Alex.
\n“Nearly $17,000 for stolen mid-terms,” she said, catching his look.<\/p>\n
“Nice little side business.”<\/p>\n
“Nice little admission of guilt for a group of class C
\nfelonies.”<\/p>\n
They both turned their focus back to the interview in the
\nother room.<\/p>\n
“Where were you Saturday morning before you went to
\nwork,” Olivia asked.<\/p>\n
Mike looked away quickly, then looked back at Olivia, who
\nregarded him steadily. He squirmed in his chair. “In my room. I
\noverslept.”<\/p>\n
“Mike, you and I both know that’s bullshit. We pulled
\nthe records for your passcard. You went in on Thursday night but
\nyour next entry wasn’t until Saturday afternoon.”<\/p>\n
“So I piggy-backed on someone. Big deal.”<\/p>\n
Olivia sat back and crossed her legs. “The passcard opens your
\nroom door too, genius.”<\/p>\n
Fuck!<\/span> “OK, look, I knew Kathleen was seeing him…”<\/p>\nOlivia raised an eyebrow.<\/p>\n
“Dowd…seeing Dowd on Friday. It fucking burned. All
\nshe had to do to get the exams was get him to trust her. She
\ndidn’t have to do him, and I never asked her to do that.”<\/p>\n
“It was an insult to you that she’d want him instead of
\nyou.”<\/p>\n
“Exactly,” he said, raising his hand off the table. “So
\nI decided to get a little payback.”<\/p>\n
“How’d you do that?”<\/p>\n
Mike shrugged, his expression nearly a smirk. “Went out,
\npicked someone up, went home with her. It wasn’t quite coyote ugly
\nthe next morning but there wasn’t a lot of deep conversation
\neither, OK. I went right from her place to breakfast and then to
\nwork.”<\/p>\n
“About what time was that?” Coyote ugly…jesus.<\/span><\/p>\n“I rolled out of her place at like 8:30am and punched in
\naround 8:50am. I stopped for a smoke.”<\/p>\n
“This girl have a name?”<\/p>\n
“Something…Dana,” Mike said snapping his fingers. “She
\nwas in one of Kathleen’s damn study groups.”<\/p>\n
“Son of a bitch!” Stabler’s exclamation echoed what he was
\ncertain Olivia felt but didn’t want to say in front of the kid in
\ninterview. “She found Kathleen, or so she told us,” he explained in
\nresponse to Alex’s questioning look.<\/p>\n
“What time did you get back to her place?”<\/p>\n
Mike scratched the back of his head. “I know we closed down
\nthe Rat. Last call there is 12:30am. Closing is 1am.”<\/p>\n
“Did you use a condom when you slept with this girl,”
\nOlivia asked.<\/p>\n
“Probably,” Mike shrugged. “We did when we hit it in the
\nmorning, I know that. Man, I hate those things.”<\/p>\n
\nAlex leaned against Olivia’s desk and crossed her arms.
\nStabler sat at his desk, talking quietly on the phone.<\/p>\n
“We can get him on the burglary and the sale of stolen
\nproperty but there’s nothing from that interview I can use compel
\na DNA sample.”<\/p>\n
“We don’t need it,” Olivia said, getting up and crossing
\nto the moveable white-board.<\/p>\n
She drew a line on the movable white-board. At one end she
\nwrote Friday, 00:35 at the other she wrote Saturday, 10:41.
\n“LUDs confirm that Kathleen called Dowd at 12:35am to say she’d
\nmade it home. 911 got the call at 10:41am on Saturday. The ME
\nputs time of death one to two hours before that.”<\/p>\n
She drew vertical line slightly to the left of the 10:41am
\nnotation. Above it she wrote TOD (08:30-09:30). “Fitzgerald said
\nhe left Dana’s place around 8:30am, and that they had sex that
\nmorning.”<\/p>\n
She made another notation on the timeline. “I’m betting he
\ndidn’t hang around for a lot of cuddling and pillow talk afterward.
\nThat would give her access to his DNA, time to get to Kathleen’s
\nroom, do the deed, and still make study group at 10am on time. She
\nlied to us about knowing who Kathleen was seeing.”<\/p>\n
“It’s all hearsay and theory. It won’t stand up in court,”
\nAlex said.<\/p>\n
“It doesn’t have to stand up in court. I think if we get this
\ngirl in interview we can make something stick.” Olivia put the dry
\nerase marker back on the board’s ledge, crossed over to her desk
\nand stood next to Alex. Stabler hung up the phone.<\/p>\n
“Hudson U. campus police confirm that Dowd asked for an
\nadministrative restraining order against Dana Vorhees last spring
\nterm.”<\/p>\n
“It doesn’t put her in Kathleen Farrell’s room,” Alex
\nsaid.<\/p>\n
“What if we can get you forensics,” Stabler asked,
\nleaning back in his chair.<\/p>\n
“Such as?”<\/p>\n
“CSU found three sets of prints in that room, one
\nbelonging to our victim, two they couldn’t match. They also found
\na hair, female, on the body that didn’t match the victim and DNA
\nevidence from under the victim’s fingernails, also female, also not
\na match to the vic.” Stabler smiled. “Dana Vorhees’ work-study
\nassignment is in student housing. Everyone who works there is
\nfingerprinted for insurance purposes. We call ’em back and get ’em
\nto fax her prints to the lab for a match.”<\/p>\n
Alex picked up her brief case and hitched the strap on to her
\nshoulder. “Pick her up. If you get a match that’s enough for a
\nwarrant for her DNA. Call me when you know something.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded. They exchanged a quick look of goodbye before
\nAlex moved through the swinging doors into the hall. Olivia sat
\ndown, picked up the phone, and dialed for the housing office at the
\nuniversity.<\/p>\n
Nah…<\/span>, Stabler thought, looking across the desk at his
\npartner as he processed the unspoken communication he’d just
\nwitnessed. Couldn’t be.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nOlivia set the mug of steaming coffee in front of Dana
\nVorhees. She slid into the seat at the end of the table, crossing
\nher legs, as Stabler closed the door to the interview room. He sat
\nopposite Dana, his back to the one-way glass.<\/p>\n
“We appreciate you coming in to talk with us today,
\nDana,” Stabler said, giving the young woman his most charming
\nsmile. “We’ve got a few more questions we were hoping you could
\nhelp us with.”<\/p>\n
Dana smiled at Elliot in return, and in equal wattage.
\n“Not a problem, really. I want to do anything I can to help.”
\nDana blew across the top of the mug and took a sip of coffee.<\/p>\n
Stabler nodded, opening his notepad. “We talked to a couple
\nof people who were close with Kathleen who said she might have
\nconfided in you in the weeks before she died.”<\/p>\n
“She didn’t tell me anything special. Just the usual
\ncomplaining about coursework, gossip, that sort of thing.” Dana
\ntook another sip from the coffee mug.<\/p>\n
Stabler looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to
\ncontinue.<\/p>\n
“I mean, we were close, sure. Not as close as she was
\nwith Billie Chambers, though. Frankly, I never quite understood
\nwhat that was about,” Dana said, filling the silence.<\/p>\n
“What didn’t you understand about it,” Olivia asked,
\nfolding her hands on the table.<\/p>\n
As Dana focused on Olivia a slightly irritated expression shot
\nacross her face. She composed her expression quickly before she
\nanswered. “Kathleen was pretty normal, and Billie’s well…you
\nknow. I just always thought she had a little crush on Kathleen.
\nNot that there’s anything wrong with that,” she said, pushing a
\nlock of hair behind her ear. “It just seemed a little off.”<\/p>\n
“Anything else seem off to you about Kathleen’s life,”
\nStabler asked, drawing Dana’s attention.<\/p>\n
“Like what?”<\/p>\n
Olivia leaned forward. “Like her dating Professor Dowd.”<\/p>\n
Dana looked down into the coffee mug she held between her
\nhands. “I heard the rumors but that was all.”<\/p>\n
“That’s not what Brian Mercer told us, Dana,” Elliot
\nsaid, his voice soft. “He told us you knew all about their
\nrelationship. That you knew about the baby.”<\/p>\n
Dana shook her head. “No.”<\/p>\n
“It hurt you, didn’t it, finding out that someone you
\nconsidered to be a friend would betray you by getting pregnant by
\nthe man you love,” Stabler continued.<\/p>\n
“You’re wrong,” Dana said, shaking her head again. “He
\nwouldn’t have not when…”<\/p>\n
“When what, Dana,” Olivia asked, her tone hard. “When he
\ncould have had you instead? He didn’t want you. He wanted
\nKathleen.”<\/p>\n
Dana’s head snapped up. The look she threw Olivia was filled
\nwith venom. “No one could know about us. What happened had to
\nstay a secret, to protect both of us.”<\/p>\n
“What happened between you? Nothing happened between you
\nand Dowd, Dana. He got a restraining order against you. You
\ncouldn’t stand the fact that he didn’t want you but he loved
\nKathleen.”<\/p>\n
“No,” Dana shook her head, “that’s not true.” She turned
\nand focused on Elliot. “We had to keep our relationship a secret.
\nNo one could know or he’d lose his job.”<\/p>\n
Stabler nodded, his expression sympathetic. When Dana glanced
\ndown at the now empty coffee mug between her hands Stabler shot his
\npartner a warning look. A knock on from the other side of the one-
\nway glass moved Olivia out of her chair and into the observation
\nspace outside the room. Cragen turned down the volume on the
\nspeaker as Elliot gently asked Dana to continue.<\/p>\n
“What’s going on, Olivia,” Cragen asked. “You’re pushing
\nway too hard.”<\/p>\n
“I’m just not buying the innocent act. To plant that DNA
\nevidence took a lot of calculation, she had to consciously hide her
\nmotives.” Olivia focused on the tableau in the interview room.
\nWhatever Stabler had asked had Dana teary eyed. “It wasn’t an act
\nof passion or anger. It was revenge.”<\/p>\n
“The print lab matched up her file card from the housing
\noffice with one of the sets of unknowns from Kathleen Farrell’s
\nroom.” He handed her the fax copy of the report. “Cabot says she
\ncan have the DNA warrant meet you at the ME’s office but let’s see
\nif we can get a confession to seal the deal. I want to know why
\nshe did this.”<\/p>\n
Olivia nodded and headed back into the observation room.
\nCragen turned up the speaker volume as Olivia sat down. The nod
\nbetween the two partners was almost imperceptible. Olivia glanced
\ndown at the folded sheet of paper she held and then back up at
\nDana. “Do you know what this is, Dana,” Olivia asked.<\/p>\n
“How could I? You just brought it in with you.” Dana’s
\nvoice held an edge of sarcasm that Olivia did not miss.<\/p>\n
Olivia unfolded the paper, turned it so Dana could read it,
\nand slid it across the table. “It’s a report from our fingerprint
\nlab. They matched prints found in Kathleen’s room to your prints
\non file with the campus security office.”<\/p>\n
Dana shrugged, rotating the empty coffee cup within the circle
\nof her hands on the tabletop. “So? I was in Kathleen’s room a
\nlot. We were friends.”<\/p>\n
“Were you in Kathleen’s bed too, Dana? Because CSU found
\nthe prints they matched on the back side of the headboard.” Olivia
\nwatched Dana’s face carefully. Dana’s face flushed, her lips
\npressed together in a hard line.<\/p>\n
“We found a condom in Kathleen’s room. We’ve already
\nmatched what was inside it to Kathleen’s boyfriend Mike,” Olivia
\ncontinued.<\/p>\n
“So why aren’t you talking to him?”<\/p>\n
“Dana, you’re his alibi. He admitted to having sex with
\nyou but the timeline doesn’t work out for him to have killed her.
\nYou waited too long to go to Kathleen’s room. This print match,”
\nOlivia tapped the sheet of paper on the table “it means there’s a
\nwarrant coming for your DNA.”<\/p>\n
Dana shrugged. “Why would my DNA be in Kathleen’s room”<\/p>\n
“When you use a condom DNA gets left on the inside and on
\nthe outside,” Stabler said, his voice soft. “If you wait for the
\nforensics to come through there’s no way you’ll get any kind of
\ndeal out of the DA. Just tell us what happened, Dana.” Do it,
\nplease, just do it.<\/span><\/p>\nDana looked from Stabler to Benson and back again. “I didn’t
\nmean for it to happen.” I knew it.<\/span> Olivia thought. “I mean, I
\nwent to Kathleen’s room, just to talk to her, you know,” Dana
\ncontinued, holding eye contact with Stabler. “She was going to
\ntell Ray about the baby. I just…I got mad. I pushed her. She
\nhit her head on the dresser and the next thing I know my hands are
\naround her throat.” Dana put one hand up near her own neck. “I
\ndidn’t realize how hard I was squeezing until she stopped
\nsquirming.”<\/p>\nStabler nodded. “How did the condom get in her trash can?”<\/p>\n
“I went back to my room and got it. Mike is a shit.
\nHe’s done so much stuff that he’s gotten away with he deserved to
\nget blamed for this.” Dana shook her head and squared her
\nshoulders, her face assuming a self-righteous expression. “Don’t
\nyou see? She had Mike, she was going to have Ray’s baby when I
\nwasn’t allowed to. It wasn’t fair. It should have been me he
\nloved, but everything that happened between us had to stay a secret
\nto protect him. Then he ‘falls in love’,” Dana held her fingers up
\nin quotation marks. “with Kathleen and she can’t keep her mouth
\nshut about what’s going on between them. If she’d blabbed all over
\nthe place about the baby he would have been ruined.”<\/p>\n
Olivia exchanged a look with her partner as revulsion rippled
\nthrough her raising goose bumps on her arms.<\/p>\n
\n“Well, she wasn’t lying about the abortion,” Stabler
\nsaid, dropping into his chair. “Student health services confirmed
\na positive pregnancy test and a referral to a clinic.”<\/p>\n
“There’s no way to prove conclusively the baby was
\nDowd’s,” Alex replied from where she leaned against Olivia’s desk.
\n“Even if there were, the best her attorney is going to be able to
\ndo is use her mental state as a mitigating factor at trial. With
\nthe confession, and the DNA evidence, it’s a solid case.”<\/p>\n
Olivia pushed through the swinging doors from the hall. Her
\nheart jumped at the sight of Alex leaning against her desk. Calm
\ndown. It’s business.<\/span> Alex, hearing Olivia approach the desk,
\nstood up and turned around. “I was just telling your partner that
\nthe confession is going to help quite a bit at trial. Can I take
\nyou both out for a drink as a thank you for the hard work,” Alex
\nasked, tilting her head slightly and watching Olivia’s expression.<\/p>\nStabler’s eyes narrowed, the flesh on the back of his neck
\nprickling at the undercurrent leaping between the two women. He
\ncomposed his expression seconds before Alex turned her gaze to him.
\n“What do you think, Elliot?”<\/p>\n
“I could use a beer, sure.” Elliot stood and pulled his
\ncoat off the back of his chair. “C’mon, Liv. I think we earned
\nit.”<\/p>\n
“Sounds great,” Olivia said, swallowing the gathering
\nlump in her throat.<\/p>\n
\nAlex looked at her watch as she swallowed the mouthful of
\nbeer. 9:30pm already, damn.<\/span> She glanced at Stabler who was
\nmethodically consuming a handful of peanuts. The hour at the bar
\nhad been filled with small talk, work talk, and general polite,
\nneutral conversation. It was taking every ounce of effort Alex
\ncould muster to maintain that neutrality and she still hadn’t found
\na way to get Olivia alone even for a few minutes. She glanced at
\nStabler again. He was halfway through his third beer. The man
\nhas the bladder of a camel.<\/span> Alex put her mug down on the bar. “I
\nhate to drink and run but I’ve got court tomorrow morning. Do you
\nguys mind watching these while I make a pit stop,” she asked,
\ngesturing to the hook under the bar that held her briefcase and
\npurse.<\/p>\n“Not a problem, Counselor,” Elliot said with a smile. He
\npopped another couple of peanuts into his mouth.<\/p>\n
Olivia gestured to the far end of the room. “It’s back there,
\nsecond door on the left.”<\/p>\n
“Thanks,” Alex said with a grin. She dodged in and out
\nof the crowd as she headed toward the interior of the bar.<\/p>\n
Olivia turned to face the bar and took a sip from her mug.
\nElliot considered his partner’s profile for a second as he crunched
\nthe last of the peanuts. Fuck it.<\/span> “So, you and Cabot, how long
\nhas that been going on?”<\/p>\nIf he hadn’t been looking for it, Stabler would have missed
\nthe split second when Olivia was completely, utterly still. She
\ntook a sip from her mug and turned to him with a sideways grin.
\n“OK, now I know you’ve had too much.”<\/p>\n
Stabler just watched her, waiting. “Is it that obvious,” she
\nsaid after searching his expression for traces of humor and coming
\nup empty.<\/p>\n
Elliot shook his head. “Not so much, but I know you pretty
\nwell, and I’ve been paying attention. You want to talk about it?”<\/p>\n
Olivia swallowed the last of her beer and signaled the
\nbartender for another. “Not right now,” she said, shaking her
\nhead.<\/p>\n
“You’re happy, though. I’m glad.”<\/p>\n
Olivia paused trying to control her reeling emotional
\nequilibrium. “Yeah, I am. The whole thing…it’s not exactly for
\npublic consumption, OK?” Olivia’s gaze flicked over his shoulder
\nand then back to his face.<\/p>\n
Elliot nodded. Alex appeared out of the crowd and stopped
\nnext to where Elliot and Olivia leaned against the bar. Stabler
\nlooked at his watch. “Listen, I’ve got to get home. Thanks for
\nthe beer, Alex.” He patted Olivia on the arm. “See you in the
\nmorning.” He scooted behind Alex and pushed his way through the
\ncrowd and out the door.<\/p>\n
Alex, her brow furrowed, took the space at the bar facing
\nOlivia that Elliot had vacated. “What was that about?”<\/p>\n
Olivia took a swig from her fresh beer, hoping it would make
\nit past the tightness in her chest. Oh but isn’t it a bitch.<\/span>
\n“Just remember, you asked for the truth.”<\/p>\nAlex nodded as Olivia began to explain.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The burn in Olivia’s calves began mid-way through her third loop around the Central Park Reservoir. Nearly five miles and she hadn’t managed to shake the thought that had been with her for the past three weeks: when would she get time alone with Alex? Munch and Fin had managed to catch all the cases […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4,8],"tags":[14,10,9],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/65"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=65"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/65\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":160,"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/65\/revisions\/160"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=65"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=65"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/homemaderavioli.com\/woodstock\/fictionblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=65"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}