Invisible pieces falling into place... When: Early April Where: Moon Doggies, JD's Ratings It's JD & Ro! And some gruesomeness...
Ro's phone had buzzed with an email notification not long after leaving work. Netflix, wanting to let her know about some new titles. She’d been enjoying time in front of her queue lately but she could only spend so long looking for the next Bridgerton before she needed to go out. In public. With other people. She needed company but not enough to make a big effort. When Ro stepped onto the sticky floor of Moon Doggie’s, she was in casual mode, still dressed in the jeans and white tank top she wore under her chef whites.
JD had brought her here on one of their rendezvous awhile back. The dive bar didn’t have the array of ingredients required for Ro’s expansive (and expensive) taste in cocktails but they could pour a beer and that was all she needed tonight. She headed towards one of the worn vinyl stools at the bar only to recognize the shape of a man down on one end of the bar.
Well. Speak of the Officer himself.
Ro and JD had become semiregular companions after reconnecting decades after their last time. They both enjoyed it and he was a safe and easy meal for Ro. It had been several weeks since the last time she’d seen the detective or even texted with him so this was a happy coincidence.
She slid onto the stool beside JD, giving him a nudge and a grin. “What’s a place like you doing in a guy like this?” she asked, cheerfully mangling the common expression.
JD had been checking through some texts he’d received from various sources when he heard the familiar voice, and looked up from the screen with a smile. He was starting to wonder if Micah/Tim would ever make an appearance there, but didn’t want to spread the drawing around, looking for him, in case the information went to the wrong people and the guy disappeared. There was too much riding on finding him, and finding out what he knew about the events in New York, and the people behind them.
He put his phone down, the screen going dark as it went into lock mode. “Hey gorgeous, fancy meeting you here,” he returned, a little surprised, giving Ro a smile and kiss on the cheek in greeting. This wasn’t the type of place he imagined she’d frequent being the reason for the surprise, their only visit here being brought on by his needing to collect some information from one of his CIs who’d said he’d be there that night. That was a while back, before he and Rob had met Micah/Tim there, before Rob had been killed.
He was briefly reminded of Laura’s warning about obsessing.
“And I could ask you the same question,” he said to her, signaling the bartender.
"Thought I'd give my TV a break before I ran out of Netflix - did you know there's an entire show about whether people should pay for a wedding or buy a house - and I remembered this place was here. Wasn't feeling fussy."" Ro grinned at him.
"What've you been up to? I haven't seen you in awhile."
JD arched an eyebrow as the bartender finally reached them, they placed their order and JD turned to face her. “Been busy spending far too many nights in here,” he replied. “A case I’ve been working on for a while now, a lead has led me here to get some information, and it’s taking its sweet time turning up.” He gave a lop-sided grin after downing the remains of the drink in front of him.
“How about you? How’s things going over at that place, le Breeze? Still got that hot boss lady keeping you on your toes?”
“Brianna? Yeah she’s great - and still hot.” Ro ordered the same as JD. “So if you’re here working does that make me, what? Accomplice is if you’re a criminal, what’s it when you’re playing for the other team? Partner? Attache? Informant like that one show about the art forger? Who do I get to be if I want to play?’
JD laughed as he recalled the TV series. “You telling me you’re a forger now?” he grinned, “or just that you want to cosy up to the bad guys and then feed me information? And it’s CI.” He shook his head, still grinning. “What is it with girls and the bad guys, huh?”
"Considering how we met, I'd say I'm more bad girl." Yes, she knew how that sounded. No, she did not care. "I am excellent at getting cosy, it's one of my main skills."
“Very true,” JD replied with a nod. “And you sure as hell are very skilled in that department. I don’t think I’ve had a birthday live up to that weekend since.” And now he of course knew why, it was how she survived, literally. The bartender returned with their drinks and JD lifted his glass, holding it toward her.
“Here’s to your rather amazing skill set, and keeping you out of too much mischief!” he teased, knowing he had absolutely no way of doing the latter. She was a capable, competent, and highly attractive female vampire who fed on lust instead of blood, and needed to do so to survive, just as much as he needed a feed of beef, or barley, washed down with bourbon.
"Where's the fun in that?" Ro protested. "I'm also great at mischief." She nudged JD's foot with her own. "Can we get into any or are you busy being good cop?"
His eyes slid to give a sly sideways glance as he grinned. His glass dangled from his fingers in front of his face as he told her, "play your cards right and maybe we can do both." With his eyes still on her he took a sip of his drink, smacking his lips appreciatively and letting out a satisfied sigh. "Gotta do my bit toward protecting your Netflix feed! Distract you for a night so you don't wear it out."
Ro grinned slowly. "Hey if you want to get out the handcuffs and play cops and robbers, I'm all for it."
JD had heard that one a few times from various people and shook his head. “You don’t want me putting the cuffs on you, I lost my key a long time ago. They don’t come off until you’re behind bars,” he joked, telling the half truth.
“But there are other ways of detaining someone who’s bent on causing mischief,” he continued, arching an eyebrow as he glanced briefly at his watch. It was getting late and the people around the place were not the same crowd as would be there if Tim/Micah was to show up - they were a greater percentage of tourists following the ‘dive bar’ guide, looking for cheap booze and a story to take home to their families about their trip to Vegas.
"Oh yeah?" She asked, tapping one fingertip against her chin. "Like what?" Ro was not one to turn down an intriguing plan B.
"Unless you're still working and need to wait for whoever or whatever it is you're looking for."
“I get the feeling he won’t be showing up tonight, wrong type of crowd for his business,” JD replied, eyes traveling a well-worn route around the establishment. He’d become familiar with the ‘regulars’, and ‘locals’, and could identify the different groups in those.
“Give it another half hour,” JD continued, his gaze returning to Ro, “and if he doesn’t show up, well I might just have to take someone else in for questioning,” he joked.
Ro smiled. The evening was shaping up nicely. Not only had she happened across some company but it was good company and what looked like a meal. "Do you need me to go spy? Ply some wiles? Who am I looking for?"
He hadn’t told anyone about Tim/Micah, his distrust running deeply. The information he’d been sent from NYC, pieced together by his former colleague, indicated a deep-rooted cadre of corrupt cops, and if there was one thing JD hated more than cop killers, it was cop killing cops. So right now, after what happened to Rob, he was wary about trusting anyone with details, especially in a public space.
He grinned at her and looked around the room as he took a sip from his glass. It really was an ‘off’ night, the crowd just not at all looking like it was going to yield results. With an exaggerated sigh he turned to face her and put his glass on the bar. “Right now I can’t see any likely suspects, but I’d be interested in seeing your technique,” he told her. He knew very well what her ‘technique’ entailed and was admittedly a willing participant in her game.
Ro raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like a dare." She took two long gulps of her drink before running her hands through her hair and tugging on the hem of her tank top to reveal a deeper shadow of cleavage and a hint of lace from the top of her bra.
Ro picked up her glass and walked over to the other end of the bar.. A pair of men were talking to each other when she sidled up beside them. Of the thirty minutes, she was there nearly twenty. Over that time, her body language changed, leaning in towards the men she was talking to. Her hands were always moving; in the air, tapping at her chin or on her glass, eventually reaching out for the arm of the man beside her. There was some business with phones.
When Ro returned to JD, she was carrying a different drink than the one she started with. She opened a contact in her phone and showed JD. "Name, phone number, Twitter handle. Not hard."
JD observed her, enjoying the performance, and felt a little sorry for the two blokes. But then he reminded himself it was up to her what she did with the details.
"You missed your calling in this life, could've made a very good undercover cop!" He grinned, remembering her age and the reinvention process. "Then again, you can always just pick it up next time round."
"I don't know about that," Ro said with emphasis. "All that paperwork. I'm barely used to doing pastry as a job."
His smirk wasn’t hidden, and he’d had the opportunity to enjoy her skills as a pastry chef when she’d sometimes brought him some ‘extra energy’. “I dunno, you make a bloody good pastry,” he told her, draining the last of the drink he’d been nursing while watching her work her charms on the other two. He put some cash on the bar to cover their drinks, and got to his feet, tucking his wallet back in his pocket. He turned to look at her, the smirk turning into a more familiar smile she had seen on more than one occasion.
“Now, about those two blokes?” he started, his voice a little deeper as he looked at her squarely. “What wiley ways did you use?” He did admit to himself it wasn’t any challenge to get in the mood for her.
Ro's eyes crinkled in a half smile, pleased. JD's attraction radiated off him, warm and enticing. Not unlike chocolate chip cookies, speaking of pastry. She didn't need to encourage his desire but playing a game when offered made it fun. Made it interesting.
"It's easy," she said as they made their way out of the bar. "Adjust how you stand." Ro stepped to the side, executing a quarter turn. She arched her back in a way that pushed her chest out and gave JD a good look at the cleavage revealed by her tank top. "Laugh at their jokes. Smile. Make small talk, maybe mention that they look like some celebrity. Then next time you laugh, pair it with a touch." She reached out and placed a hand on JD's arm. "Then," Ro said, pulling JD's desire forward, "it's just helping them think about what they want."
He knew just what she was capable of there, too, and smiled as he felt that tug, allowing himself to enjoy the sensation as it heightened. As they reached the car park he pressed the remote in his hand, his car’s lights flashing as the familiar beep sounded. “So tell me,” he asked, pausing his steps for a moment, head angled, “can you always tell what they want?”
Ro laughed lightly. "I'm not a mindreader. I can tell when people want to get laid. Particularly when it's me. And to some extent when people near me are attracted to other people near me." She stepped in closer.
"But sometimes it's not as much fun knowing. Hearing what people want can be better."
He inhaled sharply, letting go a soft groan as he felt that enticing tug. “You want to hear what I want?” he asked as they reached his car. He was already needing to adjust his jeans, it had been a while.
"Sure," she said lowly. Ro didn't pull on his emotions again, basking in what was wafting off JD and giving him space to make his choice. There was a hint of smirk on her face. This was a good game when people wanted to play.
He glanced both directions before holding his hand out to her. “C’mere and I’ll tell you,” he murmured, voice deeper now, a little raspy.
If it was possible to slink in just a step or two, Ro managed to slink up to JD. She let him pull her in so JD could lean down and explain just what he wanted to do with her. The smile returned to Ro's face as she pressed her body up against his. "I think that could be arranged."
And it was.
Later, flush with the energy she fed from JD and with him snoozing in bed, Ro got up to stretch her legs. There was a couple of bankers boxes sitting out in the living room and with all their jokes about her assisting him, the temptation to peek under the lid was intense.
Inside the boxes were all the files JD had found in Rob’s apartment and his desk in the precinct that were related to the investigations he had been doing into the deaths of his brother and family back in New York ten years earlier. One box also contained the information he’d been sent from his mate who was now working with the NYPD. The other contained the most relevant information on the factory and building fires Graham had been investigating before his death, and the fire that night in the family’s home. On top of the pile in one box was the sketch of ‘Tim’. Immediately beneath it were the photos of the burnt remains of Rob’s brother’s family and home.
Other than her own paperwork the few times she'd been arrested, Ro had never seen an actual police file. Not like the kind in the movies. How often did a chance like this come along? Ro pulled back the lid.
There wasn’t much light coming in through the window from the streetlight outside. It took a second to piece together what she was looking at but her stomach dropped as soon as she did.
Fire damage and - was that burned bodies? Maybe it was a coincidence. It probably didn't mean anything. Except. Except except except. Except for the drawing. Ro recognized Noah's face on a sketch. The likeness wasn't perfect but the longer hair and shape of his eyes confirmed it. Not good. This was not good.
JD, dressed only in a pair of boxers, leaned against the door frame. He frowned a little at first, her having gone into the boxes, but figured it was sort of a continuation of their joking around last night, so he continued playing along, as if she was in training. Nothing wrong with healthy curiosity, especially in a cop, or a cop informant, as long as you weren’t a cat.
“Going to have to work on your stealth skills if you want to go undercover,” he teased, only seeing the back of her head. He scratched at the stubble on his jaw as he stifled a yawn, then reached over and massaged his shoulder a little, the old injury making itself felt a little after the workout earlier.
Ro jumped and hurriedly jammed the lid back on the box. "Yours is fine," she said quickly. "I don't know why I bother sneaking around your house. You always catch me."
He couldn’t help but grin at that. He usually woke up when she moved out of the bed, most mornings to go and make him some breakfast to help him recover. He pushed off the doorframe and walked across to where she was. “What did you find?” he asked, having noted her jump and the reaction when he’d spoken, as if she’d been caught out at something she knew she shouldn’t be doing.
"Nothing." Ro took a deep steadying breath. "Nothing. It looked like some people were burned? Intense."
He nodded, looking down at which box she’d opened, remembering the drawing of ‘Tim/Micah’ was on top of the photos. He flipped the lid open, pulling out the photos and drawing. “It was. This was the family of a colleague of mine, and now he’s dead.” He sighed softly as he shuffled through the photos of the destroyed house. “I think this is something that is a lot more than it appears on the surface,” he continued as he shifted the drawing back to the top and the eyes of ‘Tim/Micah’ looked up from the page. “And this might be the only person who can help me,” he added with a grimace, leaving out the reasons why.
"Oh." Ro swallowed. She wondered if Noah had his fire back. If he did, there was a good chance JD would end up like the people in those photos. Ro didn't want that. She liked JD, she didn't want him dead. But if she told JD about Noah or where to find him, the next photo would be her. She and Noah had an unusual relationship but their truce could easily end. The only thing Ro had ever promised Noah was that she would never rat him out to the cops. And if there was a choice between her life or JD's, Roo knew which one she had to choose.
"Good luck," Ro said, voice a little flat. She didn't have to warn Noah the cops were after him but she wouldn't trade her life by telling JD. "Hope you find him."
JD heard the flatness in her voice and quickly stuffed the photos and drawing back in the box, realising it wasn't easy to stomach scenes like that, and just how hardened he'd become. "Sorry, probably not the best material for first thing in the morning," he said with an apologetic smile. The lid closed, the eyes disappearing behind the layer of cardboard.
"I’ll get us some coffee?” he said, heading to the kitchen.
Ro took a moment to take a breath, keeping her back to the kitchen JD. She stared down at the box and then turned back to JD. "Sure," she said, going and leaning against a countertop.
"You're really in the thick of it, aren't you?" she asked, waving a hand at the boxes. "Of all this?"
He glanced at her, huffed a soft laugh and shrugged a shoulder, turning his attention back to pouring the coffee from the maker on the bench. It was set to have a brew ready first thing in the morning, every morning.
“Kinda goes with the job, homicide detective?” He grinned and handed her the mug with the steaming contents, leaning back against the countertop, his own mug in his hand and other hand resting on the edge. He knew he’d become a little immune to the scenes, mostly, because if you allowed yourself to become affected by it you’d miss the details, the small indicators that were your tools in trade that helped you find the truth and hopefully some sort of justice. It didn’t always happen in the courts, the legal system certainly wasn’t always all about ‘justice’, but not every case he dealt with ended up in that system. Sometimes the only way for justice to be served was with arbitration of another kind. And in this case, one that was more than ten years in the making, it was one of those types of situations. Various cases all leading, all pointing to one central point. Crooked cops.
“Sorry you saw that,” he continued, indicating the boxes with a wave of his mug. “Not the best visual for first thing in the morning.”
"I did snoop," Ro said levelly. "Do you always bring your work home with you? What happens when you find the guy in the drawing? Does he go directly to jail, do not collect two hundred dollars?"
He shook his head. “Normally it’s all at the office, a rule I made for myself thanks to my dad, and uncle, both on the force.” He took a sip of coffee, the hot liquid a familiar burn of impatience. “This guy? I need to talk to him. I think he’s a cog in a very large machine, and I want to find who’s driving that machine. Like with most of our work it’s finding the connections that lead us to the bad guys.” He gave a half-grin as he looked at her. “And it’s not always black and white, no matter what they tell you in the TV shows. Believe me, there’s a helluva lot more than just fifty shades of grey.”
Ro snorted at the reference. "I resemble that." She smiled fleetingly. "If you have a lot going on, maybe get back in touch with me when things are better for you? Been awhile since I heard from you, if you want to hook back up again let me know when's good for you."
“I will.” He nodded, realising it had been a while, since well before Rob had been killed, and he was again reminded of the warning not to let himself become obsessed. Smothering a yawn behind his wrist he scratched lightly at his jaw. “Hopefully this will all be solved soon,” he continued, jerking his head in the direction of the boxes, “and I can get back to the more mundane and mystical,” he grinned, recalling the ‘witch killer’ case from earlier in the year. “And of course the magnificent!” he added as he reached out and pulled her towards him again.