We Are Being Professional, Dammit Who: Jason and Justice What: The awkwardness continues When: Wednesday morning Where: The crime scene Warning: None
Justice had hoped that she could sneak into work that morning, grab her uniform, and change without anyone seeing. Unfortunately, she’d managed to head into the locker room just as nightshift came off, and there was no toilets free for her to get dressed in. She pulled her uniform out, listening to the babble of conversation behind her...and then listening to it die away as she stripped off her shirt. From a glance in the mirror this morning, she’d known it was pretty bad; that, plus the bites on her shoulder and neck, plus the limp, were making it impossible to pretend like anything was normal.
“Rough night, Hunter?” Someone called out, to a chorus of sniggers. She ignored them, pulling on her shirt, facing her locker so that they wouldn’t see her flinch and grimace. By the time she’d made it to the breakroom, trying her best not to limp, it was clear that the rumor had spread. And grown legs. Of course, then Riggs walked in. Because her day really couldn’t get any better. She could feel his eyes on her; the split lip, the bite on her throat. She saw the moment it registered, as the shit-eating grin spread across his face.
“I’ll be damned,” he said, folding his arms. “You really are fucking your way to a detective’s shield.”
Justice put down her cup of coffee before turning to face him, eyes dark. “Say that again, Riggs,” she said, dangerously softly. She forced herself not to limp, putting a little slink in her hips as she stalked towards him, one hand on his chest, backing him up against the wall. “I hear any fucking whispers about me sleeping with anyone.” Her nails were dark talons, pricking at his chest through the fabric. “From anyone in here...” she looked around, gratified to see a few of them backing away from her.
“And your balls will just be a sad memory.” Riggs, much to her delight, looked like he was an inch away from pissing himself. Her owl dismissed him as prey, not worth even that much attention.
“Are we clear?” She curled her fingers a little harder, watching as Riggs winced, and whimpered, then nodded frantically. She stepped back, exhaling hard. “Good. Have a nice day, gentlemen.” Smirking at them, she picked up her carry cup of coffee, and headed out of the door, a little swing in her step. Rounding the corner, out of sight, she crumpled a little. God, it was gonna be like this all day.
Signing out a squad car Justice headed for the crime scene, hoping that she didn’t run into Jason, that she could get her orders from someone else. She still wanted to be the one to ‘find’ the bloodtrail across the roof, she just didn’t want to have to face Jason to do it. It was hard enough trying to persuade herself that it wasn’t going to happen again.
Jason had gotten some looks, but he didn’t even bother to try and cover up the marks. Partially because he didn’t own anything that would cover them except buttoning his shirt all the way up and putting on a tie. Which wouldn’t do a damn thing for his own cut lip and the nail marks on his jaw. So he just wore what he usually did. Except for his beat up leather jacket, which he’d left at Justice’s. He needed it back, because his cards and his extra notepads were in there.
He was on the original crime scene early, dividing up uniforms to do an in depth search of the area. He didn’t see Justice, which made him worried until he heard the muttering they thought he couldn’t hear. Some of the rumors he was hearing were making him want to smack someone, but at least she was all right and coming to work.
Nobody else was giving orders. It was his case and the other detectives were assigned to other cases. Especially since they didn’t really give a damn about a fangbanger who’d gotten iced, not really. He’d seen the same attitude towards pros being murdered and it really pissed him off.
Finally she showed up in a squad car. Jason looked rightfully miffed, because there was only so much he could do to keep the other uniforms in the right area and still not find the crime scene. “Hunter,” he said as he strode across towards her car. “You’re late.” His gaze caught hers and for a minute his expression softened. “You’re with the group heading into the south warehouse. Call me if you find anything.”
Turning around, he continued barking orders. Hopefully she’d be smart enough to leave his jacket someplace where he could just pick it up when no one was looking. Since she was already getting flak, he didn’t want to add to it. “Come on, people, clock is ticking,” he reminded them. It was a well known statistic. If they didn’t come up with a lead in the next 24 hours, their chances of solving this murder were cut in half. So it was hustle time.
Justice’s head snapped round, a flicker of a wince hidden quickly, Justice ignoring the ache in her neck as she met Jason’s gaze.
“Sorry, sir,” she replied, face blank, eyes flicking down to his neck for a split second before she looked away. She’d left his jacket in the backseat of the car, hoping he’d spot it, that they wouldn’t have to actually talk. She didn’t think she could bear it, after having had to deal with Riggs and his idiot friends already.
Shifting her belt on her hips, she headed for the south warehouse, glad she knew exactly what she was looking for. Even if she had to make it look like she was searching, she didn’t have to really concentrate.
Oh they’d be talking. When there wasn’t 20 other uniforms around and CSI going over the alleyway with a fine toothed comb. He waited until Justice had left to actually claim their primary crime scenes and pulled out his phone like he was talking to someone. Casually, he retrieved his jacket from the backseat of her squad car and shrugged it on. The smell of her and him and God, she’d been wearing before they’d had a shower for at least half an hour...so yeah, sex, hit him like an anvil in the nose. He felt less exposed, but his brain was protesting having to work smelling that all day.
Rolling his shoulders and shaking his head, Jason headed back towards the still cordoned off area. “Is the ME’s report done yet?” he asked the forensics’ lead. The man shook his head. “Give her a couple more hours. We got overflow from a gang thing in the city.” He growled. His innocent vic had gotten backburnered for a bunch of gangbangers who they probably knew how they died from the bullet holes? God, this day was just starting out fantastic. “Great, thanks,” he muttered as he stalked off to pretend like he wasn’t gnashing at the teeth over this.
Justice headed down the alleyway as if she was making her way to the ground entrance, looking around casually. In the daylight, the blood on the ladder was more obvious. But not quite obvious enough. She headed into the building, volunteering to take the roof. That meant more stairs, but hell, she wasn’t giving this crime scene to anyone else. Not after the morning she’d had.
Heading up, she sat in silence for a bit, enjoying the quiet if not able to calm her mind, before radioing down. “I’ve got blood on the roof, leading up the ladder from the dump site. It goes straight over to the building next door from the looks of things.” That done, she steeled herself, waiting for another officer to come up the stairs and take a look, secure the area.
Jason was glad when he got the call from one of the uniforms they’d found the blood trail. He wanted to see it for himself. He hadn’t the night before and that alone would tell them a lot about the crime. He let the CSI lead pick out who was helping him and they all headed towards where Justice was. “Secure all the buildings around here,” he ordered. There could be evidence or witnesses in any of them.
Coming up the stairs, he met Justice’s gaze before turning his attention to the blood trail. “Show me,” he told her. It was hard to remain completely businesslike, but if the others even caught them looking at each other too long, it would just make the ribbing worse and possibly having his LT calling him in his office. So keeping his head in the game.
Justice had forced herself to her feet when she heard footsteps on the stairs, looking utterly professional as Jason appeared, followed by forensics. She nodded briskly, barely meeting his eyes as she led the way to the fire escape, doing her best not to limp too obviously.
“There’s blood on the edge of the fire escape, here. Just above the dump site.” She pointed to the ladder further down, trying her best to ignore Jason beside her, wearing that damn jacket. “It leads across the roof...” Thank God the trail was obvious, she couldn’t have stood them taking a long time to follow it. “And there’s a more obvious smear on the wall there.” She pointed to the low wall at the edge of the roof, bright smear of blood against the pale brickwork. The building next door was close enough to jump to, and again there was an obvious smear of blood, as if the perpetrator had had difficulty moving the body from roof to roof, had rested it against the edges.
“Looks like it was a single perp,” she suggested. “He had to rest the body against the edge of the roof while he climbed across, then dragged her over.”
That was his conclusion. “He carried her most of the way,” he agreed, crouching down next to the trail. “Look at the high blood spatter. No tracks or drag marks.” He moved along the trail, trying to get a feel and scent for the perp. “The question is where did he go after he dumped her. No fresh tire tracks and the ladder was up. If he came back up this way, maybe he left a footprint or bloody print somewhere. Crossed the blood trail again.” This guy hadn’t left much of himself behind so far. So anything they could get would be better than what they had. Forensics were already swarming across the roof.
Jason backtracked towards the gap. He looked over at the uniforms. “Make sure there’s nobody in the other building. If you find where he did her, call. I’m going to try to retrace his steps.” He was on the prowl now, his lion ready for the hunt. The gap between the buildings was nothing and he stepped over it, looking for the blood trail on the other side that would lead him to the scene of Emma’s death. He was getting closer, which was helping him concentrate on working and being less frustrated with the case. He was going to get this bastard.
“You need help?” Justice asked, really hoping the answer was no, but equally not wanting to lose the trail, lose the possibility of finding this bastard. Being this close to Jason and not being able to ask him anything was infuriating, and her owl - still close to the surface, still hungry from her run in with Riggs - was making it far too difficult to concentrate on anything but him.
She stepped closer to the edge, bending to look at the blooddrops, sniffing. There...
“Detective Richards,” she said quietly. “I’ve smelt this before.” There wasn’t anyone close enough to hear her; she looked like she was just examining the blood splatter.
“He was in the alley.” She shivered, suddenly chilled. “This is what Emma smelt like.” The scent wasn’t human, or vamp...it was almost were, but not. Almost cat, but not. She couldn’t place it, and it was incredibly frustrating. It made sense as to why she hadn’t been able to separate it from Jason’s scent when he’d stepped onto the roof.
Jason knelt down near her, just so he didn’t confuse Justice’s scent with the perp’s. He nodded. “Yeah, I smell it too,” he agreed quietly. Then he got up and started following the trail, climbing up the edge and walking across the small gap between buildings with little effort. The perp had little trouble carrying Emma across the roof. He could see why. Getting down on the other side, the trail was harder to follow. He followed it as best he could, until he reached a corner of the roof where there was a service hatch that was slightly open. Bingo.
Without hesitating, Jason yanked it open. And was nearly floored by the smell of bleach. He made an unhealthy gurgling growl, staggering back and covering his nose and mouth as he tried not to throw up. Hot rage filled him. The primary crime scene had been their last chance for a lead. And the killer had had time to clean it up.
Dammit.
Justice tried not to breathe in as he crouched down beside her, wearing the coat that still reeked of sex, of the two of them. She shivered as he moved away, then cursed herself. It was ridiculous; she was behaving like a teenager with a crush, instead of a professional. Sternly telling herself to snap out of it, she levered herself to her feet with a hand on the wall, breath hissing out between her teeth. She managed to climb on the low ledge with the help of a generator housing, eyeing the gap and hoping her legs didn’t suddenly give out as she stepped over.
She made it to the other side, her knees wobbling as she stepped down onto the roof, following the blood trail, and Jason. She looked up at the noise he made, stepping closer, curious. The smell of bleach hit her, and she stepped back hurriedly. No wonder he’d reeled back; her nose wasn’t anywhere near as sensitive as his, and she could barely stand it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer, peering in to the service hatch. CSI were starting to cross over now, curious as to what had them so annoyed. She turned around, calling out to the nearest CSI.
“Bleach. The fucking stairs been soaked in it.” Forensics might be able to pull something, but it would be indistinct. And she couldn’t smell a damn thing over the fumes. She kicked the doorframe in frustration, hissing quietly. She’d been hoping that they’d find the crimescene, that they’d have some sort of lead. But nothing.
Jason recovered and came as close as he dared until the fumes could vent out. The killer must have worn a gas mask, even a human would be knocked over by that much bleach. “Dust the entire trail and the door for prints,” he coughed out. “Then get down there.” He’d have to get some vaporub and a mask to be down there anytime soon, the smell of bleach would make him useless until it aired out.
But this was the end. Unless they got a witness or a tip, or the killer hadn’t managed to destroy all the evidence, Jason knew the truth. His case had probably just gone as cold as a stone in January.
Justice sighed. There was no point in her or Jason going down there; the smell would be overpowering for them. She was doing a little better than Jason - her eyesight and hearing might be better than his, but his sense of smell was more powerful. Still, though, it was uncomfortable being this close to the open door for long. Pressing her nose into the crook of her elbow, she leant into the stairwell long enough to take a good look. And if her eyes seemed rather black, pupils rather wide when she lifted her head back out...well, no one said anything.
“Nothing,” she croaked, coughing as she tried to clear the smell of bleach from her lungs. “It’s been scrubbed clean.” Too much to hope that the killer had left something behind, had missed something. It certainly didn’t look like it from here. She frowned, turning to Jason as something occured to her.
“Why would he leave the blood trail?” She asked. “If he’s been that thorough at cleaning the kill site, why’s there blood across the rooftops?”
Jason went back to the blood trail himself. “It’s a lot harder to clean this up than the crime scene itself,” he pointed out. “This is a few drops of blood. Which was hard for you or I to spot right off. The killer either didn’t realize it was there, realized he couldn’t clean it up without being seen or knew it wouldn’t give us much.” The ME would give them likely cause of death and whether the mutilations were done post modem or not. But that only told them so much about the killer. He nodded back towards the hatch. “That is overkill. The doer wasn’t just trying to destroy the crime scene. It’s like they’re trying to erase it completely. Maybe the guy feels guilty.” The body was left in an easy place to find. No sexual assault, either. “I don’t know, there’s nothing about this case that makes much sense. Especially with nothing to go on in the first place.”
Justice sighs. “I don’t want anyone else to die, but at this point....another body’s the best lead we can hope for, isn’t it?” She knew the statistics as well as he did. She knew that their chances of catching the perpetrator disappeared further with every hour. She stepped further away from the hatch door, still trying to clear her head of the stench of bleach.
Staying out of the way of forensics, but with nothing else to do in the meantime, Justice carefully leant against the low wall that surrounded the rooftop, leaning her weight on her hands and lowering herself down against it. Not the most graceful move ever, but her thigh muscles trembled every time she sat down or stood up, so this was the only option.
“Our best hope is an eyewitness,” he corrected grimly. “A tip about anybody who saw any of this would be great. The last thing we need is another body. There’s already going to be a panic if people realize she was probably killed because she wanted to be a vampire.” Jason heaved out a long breath.
Jason’s attention was drawn away from what forensics was doing as he watched Justice gingerly lower herself to sit on a low wall. A pang of guilt shot through him. Not because of what they’d done, but because he’d apparently been way too rough with her. Making sure the uniforms and CSI were otherwise occupied before he moved over to her. “You okay?” he asked, then let out a low sigh. “I didn’t think I was that rough.” Justice nodded, looking past him, keeping her eye on the other uniforms on the roof, doing her best not to read into the looks being thrown their way.
“I’m fine,” she murmured. “Just a little sore.” She smiled wryly, still not looking at him. “Like I said, it’s been a while. Muscles aren’t used to being used like that.” Her thighs were the worst, by far. The bitemarks on her neck and shoulder were annoying, rubbing against her uniform, but she could forget about them for the most part. She pushed herself to her feet, managing not to wince too obviously.
“Is there anything else, Detective?” She asked, gaze fixed firmly somewhere around his sternum. “Or shall I continue searching the building?” She wasn’t going down that hatch, no way; but someone had to try the front door, see if anything else had been missed. It might as well be her.
That wasn’t really making him feel better, especially the way she’d pretty much shut him down when he broke ranks to ask her. Jason suppressed a soft growl of frustration. Maybe she’d changed her mind from last night. He’d left her bruised and exhausted, he couldn’t imagine how harsh that probably seemed, even though she knew he didn’t want to. Yeah, he could see where she might not want to compete with his daughters every night. Damn.
“Good thinking, Hunter,” he agreed, rolling his shoulders and putting back on his game face. No matter how stupid and possibly a little used he felt right now. “Go ahead. Good work finding the scene.” With that he turned and headed back towards the hatch.
Yeah, today just sucked.
Well, that was that then. She nodded, jaw clenched as he walked away.
“Thanks, Detective,” she replied, turning away from him. She couldn’t believe he’d come up to her, in front of other officers, after what they were already saying. Putting up walls, being distant, was the only way she had of coping. Of minimising the gossip. He hadn’t seemed that happy to see her when she’d first arrived at the crime scene...maybe they were just better off not talking. Ever. Turning away, she headed back to the other rooftop, down to ground level.