Know That I 2/?
May. 26th, 2012 06:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
whedonistTitle: Know That I
Disclaimer: Not my characters – except for one or two. The rest of the ladies and gentleman contained herein belong to entities with a higher pay grade. Thanks for allowing li’l ole me to play; I promise to return them as I found them…just like the tools I borrowed from dad when I was a kid. Also, this is unbeta’d so…mistakes are really all me. Sorry about that.
Fandom: Women’s Murder Club – TV show only.
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy for now.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An old college friend of Cindy’s moves to town and shakes things up.
A/N: Well, I think I made it in just under the deadline I set when I posted the first chapter. I'm working on the rest and should expect to start updating weekly until finished. Read and enjoy.
Ch. 2 – Serve As Fuel
Fingertips drummed across the beige Formica counter top while the coffee maker sputtered and wheezed. Lindsay wasn’t a patient woman on most days; it was a fact she was reminded of while waiting for at least one cup of coffee to drip into the carafe for her to pour. It usually wasn’t this bad, but she’d woken up with a dull ache across her cheekbone that radiated behind her ear and ended somewhere in a chord of knotted muscle in her neck.
The tension headache was familiar. Her only hope was that Jill got here soon. A bit of food, caffeine and a Percocet the best cocktail to make the pain lessen. Jill was the one with food. The pot finally filled enough for Lindsay to dump into the mug she’d pulled from the cupboard. She relished the warmth radiating from the ceramic and brought the steaming mug up under her nose and inhaled. The sweet, bitter aroma soothed the throbbing just a little.
“Hmm,” she hummed as the first sip slid down her throat.
“Do we need to talk about appropriate responses to food?” Jill asked from behind her.
Startled, Lindsay spun around sloshing a bit of the hot brew across the top of her hand. “Jill, damnit.” Absently, she wiped her hand on her shorts, ignoring the slight burn.
Jill pushed off the frame of the entryway and held up a peace offering. “Before you hit me, I’ve brought you food.” The white paper bag was bottom heavy and now that she was aware of its existence, the smell of its contents made the inspector’s stomach rumble in anticipation.
“Smart move, counselor.” Lindsay grinned and took a seat at the dining table with the lawyer. Jill set her own drink and the bag of food down before slipping her briefcase from her shoulder and placing it at her feet. Lindsay took note of the outfit and knew that Jill at least had one court appearance today by the blazer and slack choice. There were a few key items in Jill’s wardrobe that clued her into when her friend was going to go kick defense lawyer ass. The cream suit and black silk blouse were one of them.
“What time do you have to be in court?” Lindsay asked as Jill slid half of the breakfast burrito in front of her. The cheese oozing out from the center and the smell of the spicy chorizo made her mouth water.
“Nine,” Jill pouted. “It wouldn’t be so bad, but I was in court all day yesterday. That case your friends, Green and Muñoz, closed started yesterday and Duff’s lawyer tried to get some of the physical evidence, the brush and belt, thrown out of court.”
The burrito was halfway to her mouth when Lindsay stopped and looked up, eyebrows hiked in surprise. “That was a clean search, Jill.”
She and Jacoby were both there when the two primary inspectors responded to the domestic disturbance call. When they got to the scene, Duff was face down and being cuffed by Green while Muñoz was trying to stabilize the girlfriend and stop the bleeding from her head wound. When they questioned Oscar Molina, the victim’s fourteen year old son, the attack wasn’t the first. He se claimed Duff had an affinity for using a hair brush and belt on the woman. Closed fists were for her two children when he thought it necessary.
Bad search her ass.
The lawyer covered her mouth as she chewed and answered, “I know. Alexander is his lawyer and he thought it was worth a shot.” She shrugged it off and swallowed. “We should actually be thanking her son for snapping random pictures with his cell phone. There was a couple on there that showed the items in plain sight.”
Lindsay let her disgust bleed away before finally taking a bite of her breakfast. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly. Nothing really cured a bad headache like a breakfast burrito from Alberto’s.
“Today, I’m only going in for sentencing on Cruz. Duff and the Garlit’s trial won’t start back up until tomorrow. What did you guys do yesterday?” Jill asked taking a sip from the Diet Coke she bought with breakfast.
The last bite of her half of the burrito was pinched between her fingers, the grease of the chorizo slipped between her fingers and dribbled down her palm. Lindsay set it down and took the offered napkin to wipe her fingers and hand. “Not much really. Jacoby and I got caught up on some paperwork and tried to avoid Tom. Since he got back from that law enforcement conference in Palm Beach, he’s been trying to foster team camaraderie.” Lindsay’s lips pursed and she shook her head. “He wants to do team building exercises,” she snipped, causing her face to pinch in annoyance.
“What does he want you guys to do?” Jill wondered. Didn’t working with a group of people who carried live ammunition and depend on each other in life or death situations preclude camaraderie? Jill didn’t think you could get much closer.
Lindsay’s scowl deepened as she chewed the last of her breakfast. Swallowing first before she answered, she griped, “There’s this company that puts these together, he’s currently trying to decide on the Culinary Team Building exercise or a damn scavenger hunt.”
A roll of Jill’s bright blues summed up Lindsay’s own thoughts on the matter.
“Good luck with that, Boxer,” Jill finally managed to say.
A slight tilt of her head and the appearance of her tongue was Lindsay’s response to the sarcastic support offered.
Jill looked around and realized Cindy hadn’t made an appearance. “Where’s Cindy Lou?”
“Don’t know. The last time I saw her was yesterday morning as we left for work. I talked to her last night when I got home and she said she was working late.” Lindsay shrugged.
“Hmm, so…” Jill trailed off lightly. “What did you think of MacKenzie?” Truthfully, she’d been dying to ask Lindsay as soon as she had the chance. Now was as good as any other time they were bound to find.
“What would I think about her?” Lindsay balked at the question. Sure, the touchy feely, fawning crap, Cindy had been pulling the other night still irked her, but that wasn’t really the other woman’s fault. The inspector also knew better than to voice that particular opinion to Jill. She’d never hear the end of it.
“Come on, Linds,” Jill sighed. “You usually have an opinion about everyone. Thumbs up? Thumbs down? Want to pitch her into the bay?” The lawyer teased her friend. Well aware of Lindsay’s jealous streak. It was cute in that love-sick kind of way. In a way that made her hope that Lindsay would at least find lasting happiness with Cindy. Both she and Claire were pulling for the two.
“She’s okay, I guess,” Lindsay muttered.
Jill’s lips were tucked between her teeth to prevent the smirk. She crumpled up the paper from her half of the burrito and stuffed it in the empty paper bag. She was about to follow up on that particular response when Lindsay’s phone started ringing from the kitchen counter.
Groaning, Lindsay popped up and answered it. “Boxer.”
“Your presence is requested at the corner of Scotland and Filbert,” Warren Jacoby said by way of greeting. “We’ve got a case.”
“All right. I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Lindsay replied and didn’t wait for a response before ending the call and looking to her friend. “Why don’t you call Claire and I’ll go get ready.”
Jill’s phone was already in her hand as she watched Lindsay disappear around the corner.
Lindsay pulled up to the cross streets Jacoby left with her right behind Jill and put her Jeep in park. The alley immediately to her left was already cordoned off, two cruisers, Jacoby’s unmarked and Claire’s A6 sandwiched in by the Coroner’s wagon that just pulled up. Lindsay and Jill stepped from their cars in tandem, looked at each other and exchanged a look, crossing the street to meet up with the other two.
“She was on her way to the Hall,” Jill answered Lindsay’s unasked question. The lawyer’s gaze swept down the alley and she noticed the lack of gurney and body bag being pulled from the van. “Maybe I won’t see my breakfast again, after all,” she mumbled just loud enough for Lindsay to snicker.
“Hmm, well we can hope,” Lindsay ribbed playfully. Jill’s poor stomach had been lost over a few scenes. Her friend, unfortunately, had earned a bit of a reputation at the Hall and some of the inspectors and techs had, on occasion, made a conscious effort to see how much the slim D.D.A. could handle.
So far, it wasn’t much.
“Good morning,” Lindsay greeted her friends, stopping just at the lip of the alley next to Jacoby and Claire.
“Hmm,” Jacoby hummed. “It’s a morning. Not sure if it’s going to be good or not.”
“Hi, ladies,” Claire greeted and rubbed up Jill’s arm, stopping at her shoulder to give it a squeeze in support. “It really isn’t that bad,” she tried to reassure her friend.
“What are we working with?” Lindsay asked as she snapped on a pair of gloves and headed down the alleyway.
The three other adults trailed after her, but Jacoby filled her in, “Call came into dispatch an hour ago. Some kids,” he pointed to two young men in dirty skinny jeans and faded black, ripped t-shirts sitting on the curb, “were dumpster diving and came across a suitcase.”
Lindsay saw the markers indicating the dumpster in question and winced. She steeled herself for the next minutes of her life that were going to suck.
“In there,” Jacoby pointed to inside the receptacle. His partner shot daggers as he stood far enough away and kept downwind of the unit.
Claire and Lindsay exchanged looks. Claire motioned her forward in an ‘after you’ gesture. Another scowl was sent out by the inspector towards the doctor. The only thing Lindsay thought as she gripped the edge of the steel container was that she had the good sense to wear sneakers and jeans instead of the standard slacks and flats or heels. Her blouse wasn’t going to be a big loss if anything happened. It was a purple and black print top that Cindy bought for her a few months back.
Claire slid up next to her and they both craned their neck over the top of the dumpster, the doctor standing on her tip toes to get a decent glance of the contents in question. Two faces equally pinched, stared down at the opened suitcase.
Claire noted the viscera first, what she thought to be stomach lining, a femur was clearly visible, a partial hip and at least a few toes dotted the top. All of it out of proportion and dismembered.
“Hell,” Lindsay hissed.
“Damn,” Claire followed up. The doctor lowered her heels and stood flat against the blacktop. Her lips pursed and she spun on her heel heading back towards Ins. Jacoby and Jill.
Lindsay followed her friend and they stopped at the other two, all four turning to eye the dumpster. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go,” Lindsay informed the blonde.
“So, doc,” Jacoby started, “what do you want us to do first?”
Claire’s gloves snapped off, balling them up in a closed fist, she rested her hands on her hips and chewed her lower lip. “It’s a toss-up. I can have the whole dumpster brought back to the Hall and let interns paw through that mess to see if there’s anything else or we can assume everything is self contained in the suitcase and just go in, grab that and call it a day.”
Jill winced not liking the sound of either of those options. Quietly, she asked, “What exactly is in there?”
Lindsay placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder and said, “Parts, icky, bloody parts.” Turning her attention to Jacoby, she asked, “Did the kids say if there was anything else in there?”
Her partner shook his graying head. “They just opened up the suitcase, saw what was inside and bailed, calling Nine-one-one as soon as they got clear of the alley. The call came in on a cell phone belonging to Alex Madrigal.” Jacoby pointed out the boy on the left.
“I’m going to get one of mine to get in there, get the suitcase and then arrange for transport on the dumpster,” Claire decided as she waved one of her staff over. The doctor’s mouth dropped open a little as she surveyed the edge of the alley and saw Cindy waving at her.
That sight was fairly normal, but her Skipper didn’t usually have company or a dog to go along with her crime scene crashing behavior.
“Lindsay,” Claire got her friend’s attention and pointed in the direction of the woman’s girlfriend. “You should go get them.” Claire spun on her heel and walked back to the dumpster with Gerry Amado in tow. The poor kid didn’t know what he was in for.
Lindsay watched Claire scurry off before grabbing Jill’s arm and dragging her towards the street corner where Cindy, MacKenzie and a dog were waiting. Lindsay took in their attire. Cindy was in track pants and one of Lindsay’s favorite articles of clothing the redhead owned, a slightly worn, green, Oregon Duck pullover. Her eyes narrowed as she took in MacKenzie wearing navy NYU basketball shorts and the same hoodie her girlfriend was wearing.
Lindsay just pointed between the two of them and the dog at Mac’s feet, not even bothering to ask the question so easily read on her face.
The reporter gave her inspector a sheepish smile and waved before she answered, “We were out walking Ozzie here,” Cindy reached down to scratch behind one of the mutts ears, “and I heard the call go out over my scanner.”
Lindsay scanned the outfit again, trying to figure out where Cindy would be hiding the hand held unit she’d poached from her a while ago.
Cindy waved her phone. “Aren’t smart phones awesome?” She grinned trying to deter the narrowing of her inspector’s eyes. It wasn’t going well for the reporter, so she quickly asked, “What’s up?”
Lindsay pressed her lips together, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, collecting herself before she answered. “Body parts in a dumpster,” she finally gritted out. “Why are you here?”
Cindy balked at the tone and the question. Lindsay wasn’t usually this hostile…well, not anymore. They had worked past all of it before Cindy even realized that her case hero worship ran much deeper. She wasn’t sure if it was hero worship to begin with. Letting it go for now, Cindy tried to keep her tone light, “Well you know, Ten-fifty-fours are like my calling card, possible dead body and all.” She batted her eyelashes and hoped Lindsay found it at least slightly amusing. The inspector usually did when Cindy informed them all that she had memorized certain penal and radio call codes when they first met.
Lindsay huffed and glared. “Just go home…or finish your walk…or whatever it was you two were doing. I’ve got work to do.” With that the inspector turned on her heel and started to stalk back to Claire and the rest of the group gathered down the alley.
“But…” Cindy called after the retreating form of her girlfriend.
“I’ll call if I need you,” Lindsay snapped over her shoulder.
MacKenzie was purposefully quiet on the eleven block hike back to her apartment. Ozzie followed dutifully by her left side and Cindy took up residence on her right. The morning had been relatively peaceful – fun even considering Cindy had crashed with her in her new living room. Cindy had brought dinner, a six pack of her favorite pale ale and a promise to help with unpacking the rest of her stuff. When the morning rolled around they went out for breakfast and decided to take Ozzie for a walk.
She wasn’t expecting Cindy to take off in a light, four block jog to a crime scene.
That was a new development to the woman. Of course there were a lot of things about her friend that were different. None bad, just different from the fresh faced, eager undergrad MacKenzie remembered.
As Mac opened her apartment door, Ozzie squeezed passed and bounded towards his water bowl. The slurping was an expected routine of theirs. She stepped back and motioned Cindy in before closing the door and throwing the lock, more out of habit than necessity.
“Water?” she asked as she made her way to the kitchen and hung up her dog’s leash on the apron hook next to the fridge.
“Please and thank you,” Cindy answered, sinking on to one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Not for the first time, Cindy looked over the finished product of their combined efforts last night. The place was actually pretty perfect for her friend. Not too big, but spacious enough that Mac could spread out. The paint was a light grey with a bluish tint, the hardwood floors were dark and Mac’s gently used, but well cared for furniture suited the place. Her soft, brown leather couch was actually better to sleep on than her own bed.
Mac slid a tall glass of ice water to Cindy and sucked down half a bottle of the orange Gatorade in her hand before she decided to voice her annoyance at Lindsay. Mac didn’t like making a fuss over how people in relationships not her own acted or treated each other. She knew that all relationships were different and what could be perceived as disrespectful or hostile behavior wasn’t.
It was Cindy though and despite the time they had been out of each other’s lives, Mac still cared. She wasn’t going to let the rudely dismissive behavior of her friend’s girlfriend go by the wayside without some explanation from the redhead.
Mac motioned for Cindy to follow her into the living room and they both plopped down onto Cindy’s makeshift bed. The clack of Ozzie’s short nails against the flooring stopped as he sat down and looked up at his owner. Mac eyed him a moment before patting the space left between her and Cindy as they turned towards each other.
The pitbull mix wagged it’s nub of a tail and hopped up on the furniture. Ozzie was large, brindle colored and all muscle, rescued from the Manhattan Care Center a few years ago. He was the best money she’d spent and certainly made her family happy knowing that she had more protection than the Louisville Slugger her dad bought for her when she started grad school on the East coast.
Mac let her hand run over Ozzie’s coat deciding on best how to phrase her questions. Cindy, for her part, eyed the woman across from her and said, “Whatever you’re thinking Daddy…might as well just say it.”
Mac snorted and shook her head. She really should have known better. “Do you usually pop up at crime scenes?” As an opening question went, she felt it was neutral enough.
“Uh, yeah, actually, it’s my job. Crime reporter and all,” Cindy answered and set her glass down on the coffee table.
“Hmm, and, uh, Lindsay how is she usually or did we happen to catch her when she ate a bowl of uptight bitch for breakfast, Augie?”
The burst of laughter was instantaneous and Cindy covered her mouth as she giggled at the description. Not usually a way she would describe her girlfriend, but some days…
Mac seemed to have hit it right on the head. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what Lindsay’s problem was this morning. They didn’t see each other last night and the last they had talked, right before Lindsay went home for the night, Cindy was stuck at the Register proofing for an intern her jerk of a boss had assigned to her. By the time she was done, she knew Lindsay was probably asleep and made an impromptu phone call to Mac to hang out.
Once the giggles were under control, Cindy tried to explain Lindsay Boxer as best as she was able. “Hmm, I wouldn’t have put it quite like that and really, she’s not that bad anymore…”
“Anymore as in…she was always like that?” Mac pressed.
Cindy’s head tilted to the side as she decided on the answer. “Not always, she’s just…” Cindy’s brow furrowed trying to explain once again to someone who didn’t know Lindsay like she did or like Claire and Jill did. She drew in a breath and back peddled a little. “Look, what you saw today…”
“And the other night, Augie.”
Cindy winced remembering the way she had left with Lindsay after their reunion at Joe’s. “She doesn’t take to people quickly. You’re an old friend who knows parts of me that she doesn’t. Be nice,” Cindy warned lightly.
“I am – or at least I thought I was. It’s just…I don’t know, she doesn’t strike me as someone you would actually go for, y’know?” Mac tried to explain.
“She’s loyal, protective, sweet, funny, sarcastic, caring and drop dead gorgeous. What part of that isn’t someone that anyone wouldn’t want? Besides, it’s not like you’ve changed all that much. Ozzie’s a good fit for you.” Cindy countered, knowing that she was twisting things slightly, but they really were all some of Lindsay’s more dominant traits that originally drew her to the inspector. Some of those qualities Mac possessed in equal measure. She had no room to judge.
“Maybe, but…” Mac let the thought trail off. Calling Lindsay a right bitch to her girlfriend didn’t seem like the most tactful decision. “Let’s just say that in my limited exposure, as your friend, I’m not really impressed with how I’ve seen her treat you.”
Sighing, Cindy knew she was unable to really argue Mac’s point. “I don’t know what happened this morning, but let me deal with her. I’ll give her an earful tonight when I see her. Don’t worry about Lindsay. You’ll love her once she warms up to you.”
Mac’s right eyebrow arched high on her forehead and she shook her head. “I know we’ve not been in contact in a while, Cindy, but seriously, if she’s been treating you like that since you’ve been together, cop or not…” Mac ran a hand over the top of her head, smoothing down some of the flyaways from her ponytail. “You deserve to be treated right.”
Cindy reached out and squeezed the hand Mac was using to pet Ozzie. “She does. Really. I got breakfast in bed the other morning. She’s good to me. Maybe not this morning, but I’ll take care of it.”
Mac dipped her head in concession and let the subject drop for now.
Next>>>
Disclaimer: Not my characters – except for one or two. The rest of the ladies and gentleman contained herein belong to entities with a higher pay grade. Thanks for allowing li’l ole me to play; I promise to return them as I found them…just like the tools I borrowed from dad when I was a kid. Also, this is unbeta’d so…mistakes are really all me. Sorry about that.
Fandom: Women’s Murder Club – TV show only.
Pairing: Lindsay/Cindy for now.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An old college friend of Cindy’s moves to town and shakes things up.
A/N: Well, I think I made it in just under the deadline I set when I posted the first chapter. I'm working on the rest and should expect to start updating weekly until finished. Read and enjoy.
Fingertips drummed across the beige Formica counter top while the coffee maker sputtered and wheezed. Lindsay wasn’t a patient woman on most days; it was a fact she was reminded of while waiting for at least one cup of coffee to drip into the carafe for her to pour. It usually wasn’t this bad, but she’d woken up with a dull ache across her cheekbone that radiated behind her ear and ended somewhere in a chord of knotted muscle in her neck.
The tension headache was familiar. Her only hope was that Jill got here soon. A bit of food, caffeine and a Percocet the best cocktail to make the pain lessen. Jill was the one with food. The pot finally filled enough for Lindsay to dump into the mug she’d pulled from the cupboard. She relished the warmth radiating from the ceramic and brought the steaming mug up under her nose and inhaled. The sweet, bitter aroma soothed the throbbing just a little.
“Hmm,” she hummed as the first sip slid down her throat.
“Do we need to talk about appropriate responses to food?” Jill asked from behind her.
Startled, Lindsay spun around sloshing a bit of the hot brew across the top of her hand. “Jill, damnit.” Absently, she wiped her hand on her shorts, ignoring the slight burn.
Jill pushed off the frame of the entryway and held up a peace offering. “Before you hit me, I’ve brought you food.” The white paper bag was bottom heavy and now that she was aware of its existence, the smell of its contents made the inspector’s stomach rumble in anticipation.
“Smart move, counselor.” Lindsay grinned and took a seat at the dining table with the lawyer. Jill set her own drink and the bag of food down before slipping her briefcase from her shoulder and placing it at her feet. Lindsay took note of the outfit and knew that Jill at least had one court appearance today by the blazer and slack choice. There were a few key items in Jill’s wardrobe that clued her into when her friend was going to go kick defense lawyer ass. The cream suit and black silk blouse were one of them.
“What time do you have to be in court?” Lindsay asked as Jill slid half of the breakfast burrito in front of her. The cheese oozing out from the center and the smell of the spicy chorizo made her mouth water.
“Nine,” Jill pouted. “It wouldn’t be so bad, but I was in court all day yesterday. That case your friends, Green and Muñoz, closed started yesterday and Duff’s lawyer tried to get some of the physical evidence, the brush and belt, thrown out of court.”
The burrito was halfway to her mouth when Lindsay stopped and looked up, eyebrows hiked in surprise. “That was a clean search, Jill.”
She and Jacoby were both there when the two primary inspectors responded to the domestic disturbance call. When they got to the scene, Duff was face down and being cuffed by Green while Muñoz was trying to stabilize the girlfriend and stop the bleeding from her head wound. When they questioned Oscar Molina, the victim’s fourteen year old son, the attack wasn’t the first. He se claimed Duff had an affinity for using a hair brush and belt on the woman. Closed fists were for her two children when he thought it necessary.
Bad search her ass.
The lawyer covered her mouth as she chewed and answered, “I know. Alexander is his lawyer and he thought it was worth a shot.” She shrugged it off and swallowed. “We should actually be thanking her son for snapping random pictures with his cell phone. There was a couple on there that showed the items in plain sight.”
Lindsay let her disgust bleed away before finally taking a bite of her breakfast. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly. Nothing really cured a bad headache like a breakfast burrito from Alberto’s.
“Today, I’m only going in for sentencing on Cruz. Duff and the Garlit’s trial won’t start back up until tomorrow. What did you guys do yesterday?” Jill asked taking a sip from the Diet Coke she bought with breakfast.
The last bite of her half of the burrito was pinched between her fingers, the grease of the chorizo slipped between her fingers and dribbled down her palm. Lindsay set it down and took the offered napkin to wipe her fingers and hand. “Not much really. Jacoby and I got caught up on some paperwork and tried to avoid Tom. Since he got back from that law enforcement conference in Palm Beach, he’s been trying to foster team camaraderie.” Lindsay’s lips pursed and she shook her head. “He wants to do team building exercises,” she snipped, causing her face to pinch in annoyance.
“What does he want you guys to do?” Jill wondered. Didn’t working with a group of people who carried live ammunition and depend on each other in life or death situations preclude camaraderie? Jill didn’t think you could get much closer.
Lindsay’s scowl deepened as she chewed the last of her breakfast. Swallowing first before she answered, she griped, “There’s this company that puts these together, he’s currently trying to decide on the Culinary Team Building exercise or a damn scavenger hunt.”
A roll of Jill’s bright blues summed up Lindsay’s own thoughts on the matter.
“Good luck with that, Boxer,” Jill finally managed to say.
A slight tilt of her head and the appearance of her tongue was Lindsay’s response to the sarcastic support offered.
Jill looked around and realized Cindy hadn’t made an appearance. “Where’s Cindy Lou?”
“Don’t know. The last time I saw her was yesterday morning as we left for work. I talked to her last night when I got home and she said she was working late.” Lindsay shrugged.
“Hmm, so…” Jill trailed off lightly. “What did you think of MacKenzie?” Truthfully, she’d been dying to ask Lindsay as soon as she had the chance. Now was as good as any other time they were bound to find.
“What would I think about her?” Lindsay balked at the question. Sure, the touchy feely, fawning crap, Cindy had been pulling the other night still irked her, but that wasn’t really the other woman’s fault. The inspector also knew better than to voice that particular opinion to Jill. She’d never hear the end of it.
“Come on, Linds,” Jill sighed. “You usually have an opinion about everyone. Thumbs up? Thumbs down? Want to pitch her into the bay?” The lawyer teased her friend. Well aware of Lindsay’s jealous streak. It was cute in that love-sick kind of way. In a way that made her hope that Lindsay would at least find lasting happiness with Cindy. Both she and Claire were pulling for the two.
“She’s okay, I guess,” Lindsay muttered.
Jill’s lips were tucked between her teeth to prevent the smirk. She crumpled up the paper from her half of the burrito and stuffed it in the empty paper bag. She was about to follow up on that particular response when Lindsay’s phone started ringing from the kitchen counter.
Groaning, Lindsay popped up and answered it. “Boxer.”
“Your presence is requested at the corner of Scotland and Filbert,” Warren Jacoby said by way of greeting. “We’ve got a case.”
“All right. I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Lindsay replied and didn’t wait for a response before ending the call and looking to her friend. “Why don’t you call Claire and I’ll go get ready.”
Jill’s phone was already in her hand as she watched Lindsay disappear around the corner.
Lindsay pulled up to the cross streets Jacoby left with her right behind Jill and put her Jeep in park. The alley immediately to her left was already cordoned off, two cruisers, Jacoby’s unmarked and Claire’s A6 sandwiched in by the Coroner’s wagon that just pulled up. Lindsay and Jill stepped from their cars in tandem, looked at each other and exchanged a look, crossing the street to meet up with the other two.
“She was on her way to the Hall,” Jill answered Lindsay’s unasked question. The lawyer’s gaze swept down the alley and she noticed the lack of gurney and body bag being pulled from the van. “Maybe I won’t see my breakfast again, after all,” she mumbled just loud enough for Lindsay to snicker.
“Hmm, well we can hope,” Lindsay ribbed playfully. Jill’s poor stomach had been lost over a few scenes. Her friend, unfortunately, had earned a bit of a reputation at the Hall and some of the inspectors and techs had, on occasion, made a conscious effort to see how much the slim D.D.A. could handle.
So far, it wasn’t much.
“Good morning,” Lindsay greeted her friends, stopping just at the lip of the alley next to Jacoby and Claire.
“Hmm,” Jacoby hummed. “It’s a morning. Not sure if it’s going to be good or not.”
“Hi, ladies,” Claire greeted and rubbed up Jill’s arm, stopping at her shoulder to give it a squeeze in support. “It really isn’t that bad,” she tried to reassure her friend.
“What are we working with?” Lindsay asked as she snapped on a pair of gloves and headed down the alleyway.
The three other adults trailed after her, but Jacoby filled her in, “Call came into dispatch an hour ago. Some kids,” he pointed to two young men in dirty skinny jeans and faded black, ripped t-shirts sitting on the curb, “were dumpster diving and came across a suitcase.”
Lindsay saw the markers indicating the dumpster in question and winced. She steeled herself for the next minutes of her life that were going to suck.
“In there,” Jacoby pointed to inside the receptacle. His partner shot daggers as he stood far enough away and kept downwind of the unit.
Claire and Lindsay exchanged looks. Claire motioned her forward in an ‘after you’ gesture. Another scowl was sent out by the inspector towards the doctor. The only thing Lindsay thought as she gripped the edge of the steel container was that she had the good sense to wear sneakers and jeans instead of the standard slacks and flats or heels. Her blouse wasn’t going to be a big loss if anything happened. It was a purple and black print top that Cindy bought for her a few months back.
Claire slid up next to her and they both craned their neck over the top of the dumpster, the doctor standing on her tip toes to get a decent glance of the contents in question. Two faces equally pinched, stared down at the opened suitcase.
Claire noted the viscera first, what she thought to be stomach lining, a femur was clearly visible, a partial hip and at least a few toes dotted the top. All of it out of proportion and dismembered.
“Hell,” Lindsay hissed.
“Damn,” Claire followed up. The doctor lowered her heels and stood flat against the blacktop. Her lips pursed and she spun on her heel heading back towards Ins. Jacoby and Jill.
Lindsay followed her friend and they stopped at the other two, all four turning to eye the dumpster. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go,” Lindsay informed the blonde.
“So, doc,” Jacoby started, “what do you want us to do first?”
Claire’s gloves snapped off, balling them up in a closed fist, she rested her hands on her hips and chewed her lower lip. “It’s a toss-up. I can have the whole dumpster brought back to the Hall and let interns paw through that mess to see if there’s anything else or we can assume everything is self contained in the suitcase and just go in, grab that and call it a day.”
Jill winced not liking the sound of either of those options. Quietly, she asked, “What exactly is in there?”
Lindsay placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder and said, “Parts, icky, bloody parts.” Turning her attention to Jacoby, she asked, “Did the kids say if there was anything else in there?”
Her partner shook his graying head. “They just opened up the suitcase, saw what was inside and bailed, calling Nine-one-one as soon as they got clear of the alley. The call came in on a cell phone belonging to Alex Madrigal.” Jacoby pointed out the boy on the left.
“I’m going to get one of mine to get in there, get the suitcase and then arrange for transport on the dumpster,” Claire decided as she waved one of her staff over. The doctor’s mouth dropped open a little as she surveyed the edge of the alley and saw Cindy waving at her.
That sight was fairly normal, but her Skipper didn’t usually have company or a dog to go along with her crime scene crashing behavior.
“Lindsay,” Claire got her friend’s attention and pointed in the direction of the woman’s girlfriend. “You should go get them.” Claire spun on her heel and walked back to the dumpster with Gerry Amado in tow. The poor kid didn’t know what he was in for.
Lindsay watched Claire scurry off before grabbing Jill’s arm and dragging her towards the street corner where Cindy, MacKenzie and a dog were waiting. Lindsay took in their attire. Cindy was in track pants and one of Lindsay’s favorite articles of clothing the redhead owned, a slightly worn, green, Oregon Duck pullover. Her eyes narrowed as she took in MacKenzie wearing navy NYU basketball shorts and the same hoodie her girlfriend was wearing.
Lindsay just pointed between the two of them and the dog at Mac’s feet, not even bothering to ask the question so easily read on her face.
The reporter gave her inspector a sheepish smile and waved before she answered, “We were out walking Ozzie here,” Cindy reached down to scratch behind one of the mutts ears, “and I heard the call go out over my scanner.”
Lindsay scanned the outfit again, trying to figure out where Cindy would be hiding the hand held unit she’d poached from her a while ago.
Cindy waved her phone. “Aren’t smart phones awesome?” She grinned trying to deter the narrowing of her inspector’s eyes. It wasn’t going well for the reporter, so she quickly asked, “What’s up?”
Lindsay pressed her lips together, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, collecting herself before she answered. “Body parts in a dumpster,” she finally gritted out. “Why are you here?”
Cindy balked at the tone and the question. Lindsay wasn’t usually this hostile…well, not anymore. They had worked past all of it before Cindy even realized that her case hero worship ran much deeper. She wasn’t sure if it was hero worship to begin with. Letting it go for now, Cindy tried to keep her tone light, “Well you know, Ten-fifty-fours are like my calling card, possible dead body and all.” She batted her eyelashes and hoped Lindsay found it at least slightly amusing. The inspector usually did when Cindy informed them all that she had memorized certain penal and radio call codes when they first met.
Lindsay huffed and glared. “Just go home…or finish your walk…or whatever it was you two were doing. I’ve got work to do.” With that the inspector turned on her heel and started to stalk back to Claire and the rest of the group gathered down the alley.
“But…” Cindy called after the retreating form of her girlfriend.
“I’ll call if I need you,” Lindsay snapped over her shoulder.
MacKenzie was purposefully quiet on the eleven block hike back to her apartment. Ozzie followed dutifully by her left side and Cindy took up residence on her right. The morning had been relatively peaceful – fun even considering Cindy had crashed with her in her new living room. Cindy had brought dinner, a six pack of her favorite pale ale and a promise to help with unpacking the rest of her stuff. When the morning rolled around they went out for breakfast and decided to take Ozzie for a walk.
She wasn’t expecting Cindy to take off in a light, four block jog to a crime scene.
That was a new development to the woman. Of course there were a lot of things about her friend that were different. None bad, just different from the fresh faced, eager undergrad MacKenzie remembered.
As Mac opened her apartment door, Ozzie squeezed passed and bounded towards his water bowl. The slurping was an expected routine of theirs. She stepped back and motioned Cindy in before closing the door and throwing the lock, more out of habit than necessity.
“Water?” she asked as she made her way to the kitchen and hung up her dog’s leash on the apron hook next to the fridge.
“Please and thank you,” Cindy answered, sinking on to one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Not for the first time, Cindy looked over the finished product of their combined efforts last night. The place was actually pretty perfect for her friend. Not too big, but spacious enough that Mac could spread out. The paint was a light grey with a bluish tint, the hardwood floors were dark and Mac’s gently used, but well cared for furniture suited the place. Her soft, brown leather couch was actually better to sleep on than her own bed.
Mac slid a tall glass of ice water to Cindy and sucked down half a bottle of the orange Gatorade in her hand before she decided to voice her annoyance at Lindsay. Mac didn’t like making a fuss over how people in relationships not her own acted or treated each other. She knew that all relationships were different and what could be perceived as disrespectful or hostile behavior wasn’t.
It was Cindy though and despite the time they had been out of each other’s lives, Mac still cared. She wasn’t going to let the rudely dismissive behavior of her friend’s girlfriend go by the wayside without some explanation from the redhead.
Mac motioned for Cindy to follow her into the living room and they both plopped down onto Cindy’s makeshift bed. The clack of Ozzie’s short nails against the flooring stopped as he sat down and looked up at his owner. Mac eyed him a moment before patting the space left between her and Cindy as they turned towards each other.
The pitbull mix wagged it’s nub of a tail and hopped up on the furniture. Ozzie was large, brindle colored and all muscle, rescued from the Manhattan Care Center a few years ago. He was the best money she’d spent and certainly made her family happy knowing that she had more protection than the Louisville Slugger her dad bought for her when she started grad school on the East coast.
Mac let her hand run over Ozzie’s coat deciding on best how to phrase her questions. Cindy, for her part, eyed the woman across from her and said, “Whatever you’re thinking Daddy…might as well just say it.”
Mac snorted and shook her head. She really should have known better. “Do you usually pop up at crime scenes?” As an opening question went, she felt it was neutral enough.
“Uh, yeah, actually, it’s my job. Crime reporter and all,” Cindy answered and set her glass down on the coffee table.
“Hmm, and, uh, Lindsay how is she usually or did we happen to catch her when she ate a bowl of uptight bitch for breakfast, Augie?”
The burst of laughter was instantaneous and Cindy covered her mouth as she giggled at the description. Not usually a way she would describe her girlfriend, but some days…
Mac seemed to have hit it right on the head. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what Lindsay’s problem was this morning. They didn’t see each other last night and the last they had talked, right before Lindsay went home for the night, Cindy was stuck at the Register proofing for an intern her jerk of a boss had assigned to her. By the time she was done, she knew Lindsay was probably asleep and made an impromptu phone call to Mac to hang out.
Once the giggles were under control, Cindy tried to explain Lindsay Boxer as best as she was able. “Hmm, I wouldn’t have put it quite like that and really, she’s not that bad anymore…”
“Anymore as in…she was always like that?” Mac pressed.
Cindy’s head tilted to the side as she decided on the answer. “Not always, she’s just…” Cindy’s brow furrowed trying to explain once again to someone who didn’t know Lindsay like she did or like Claire and Jill did. She drew in a breath and back peddled a little. “Look, what you saw today…”
“And the other night, Augie.”
Cindy winced remembering the way she had left with Lindsay after their reunion at Joe’s. “She doesn’t take to people quickly. You’re an old friend who knows parts of me that she doesn’t. Be nice,” Cindy warned lightly.
“I am – or at least I thought I was. It’s just…I don’t know, she doesn’t strike me as someone you would actually go for, y’know?” Mac tried to explain.
“She’s loyal, protective, sweet, funny, sarcastic, caring and drop dead gorgeous. What part of that isn’t someone that anyone wouldn’t want? Besides, it’s not like you’ve changed all that much. Ozzie’s a good fit for you.” Cindy countered, knowing that she was twisting things slightly, but they really were all some of Lindsay’s more dominant traits that originally drew her to the inspector. Some of those qualities Mac possessed in equal measure. She had no room to judge.
“Maybe, but…” Mac let the thought trail off. Calling Lindsay a right bitch to her girlfriend didn’t seem like the most tactful decision. “Let’s just say that in my limited exposure, as your friend, I’m not really impressed with how I’ve seen her treat you.”
Sighing, Cindy knew she was unable to really argue Mac’s point. “I don’t know what happened this morning, but let me deal with her. I’ll give her an earful tonight when I see her. Don’t worry about Lindsay. You’ll love her once she warms up to you.”
Mac’s right eyebrow arched high on her forehead and she shook her head. “I know we’ve not been in contact in a while, Cindy, but seriously, if she’s been treating you like that since you’ve been together, cop or not…” Mac ran a hand over the top of her head, smoothing down some of the flyaways from her ponytail. “You deserve to be treated right.”
Cindy reached out and squeezed the hand Mac was using to pet Ozzie. “She does. Really. I got breakfast in bed the other morning. She’s good to me. Maybe not this morning, but I’ll take care of it.”
Mac dipped her head in concession and let the subject drop for now.
Next>>>
