Act II:

 Jill was the first to arrive at the morgue after Claire’s summons.  Dressed to the nines to meet a date in thirty minutes, she poked her head in the door, taking a cautious sniff of the air.  Satisfied that it smelled no more disturbing than normal she stepped inside.  It was late, and the morgue was between shifts so no assistants hurried about.  Jill walked through and rapped on the door to Claire’s office. 

 “So what’s up?”

 Jill nearly screamed at the sudden voice and presence behind her.  She whirled and smacked into Claire’s door, sending the glass rattling.  “Jesus, Cindy.”

 The reporter grimaced.  “Sorry.  I thought you heard me.”

 Claire yanked open the door.  “What are you all doing out here?”

 “Causing trouble, probably,” Lindsay added to the conversation as she swept into the room, a vision of denim and leather and a swagger that was all cop.

 Jill shook her head, wondering if Lindsay had any idea the effect she could have on anyone willing to have sex with a female member of the species.  “Cindy is just skulking around scaring people to death.”

 “Am not,” the reporter fired back.  “You just weren’t paying attention.”

 “Girls.”  Claire’s mom voice came out and she pointed into her office.  She chuckled when Jill playfully pinched Cindy’s backside as they walked by, the redhead yelping and spinning around to swat Jill with her purse.

 “We work with children,” Lindsay drawled as she followed them.

 “They keep us young,” Claire replied.

 Once everyone was settled in their respective seats, Claire sat on the edge of her desk.  “I have a preliminary cause of death.  We’re still waiting on the tox screen.”

 “We don’t have to look at the body again, do we?”  Jill asked.

 “I haven’t seen it yet,” Cindy added.

 “You don’t want to,” Lindsay and Jill both spoke at the same time.

Cindy didn’t appear to agree but she didn’t say so.

 Claire took a patient breath.  “Preliminary cause of death is due to a massive coronary.  He was definitely force fed a hell of a lot of food, most of which he vomited back up.  The stomach can only take so much.”

 Jill responded with a tiny swallow. “Can we please not dwell on that?  I’m having dinner in twenty minutes.”

 “Sorry,” Claire answered, sounding anything but.  “The food in Blake’s mouth…”  Jill’s groan interrupted the medical examiner for only a beat.  “The food in Blake’s mouth,” she continued, “was stuffed in there after his death.  And there was a lot of it.  I’d say someone actually took some sort of pipe or stick to shove it down his throat.  He has some tearing on his esophagus that’s consistent with that.”

 “Ouch,” Cindy murmured her hand going in reaction to her throat.  She swallowed as well.  “Do you think he was drugged?”

 “I sure as hell hope so.”  Claire sighed.  “The killer would have been at this a while.  I’d put Blake’s time of death around seven last night.  It could have taken hours before Blake’s heart gave out from the food or the fear.  With two blocked arteries he was headed for a massive heart attack in the near future anyway.”

 “Would have been better than going out the way he did,” Lindsay commented.  “Anything under his nails?  Any fibers?”

 “Yes and yes.  I sent both to trace.”

 Wearily the inspector blew out a breath.  “Okay.  Let’s call it a night then.  We’ll come at this fresh in the morning and hopefully have something to go on from trace.”

 Jill wasted no time getting to her feet and heading for the door with a quick “see ya” mouthed to her friends.  She stopped next to Lindsay, though, and laid a quick hand on her shoulder.  Lindsay glanced up seeing the questions and concern for her mental state in Jill’s sparkling blue eyes.  She reached up and tangled her fingers with the attorney’s, giving her friend’s hand a quick squeeze.

 When you had been friends as long as they had, words weren’t always necessary.

 Jill kissed her on the temple and left.

 “So.”  Claire slapped her hands together making the two remaining women in the room jump.  “What are you two up to tonight?”

 Lindsay and Cindy exchanged glances.

 “I… really hadn’t given it much thought,” Lindsay confessed, although she knew moping and a few glasses of scotch would probably be involved.

 “Um…”  Cindy shrugged, wondering why she suddenly felt like a loser.

 “Good.  You can come with me to see Nate’s play.  He’ll be thrilled.”

 “Uh…”  Lindsay could think of no graceful way out of the predicament she’d just landed herself in.  “S… sure,” she managed.  “Don’t we need tickets…?”

 “Five bucks at the door.  I’ll drive.”  Claire breezed past them both with a smirk on her features.  She was determined to make sure Lindsay did not spend the evening wallowing.

 Cindy finally got a clue about Claire’s motivations and jumped in wholeheartedly with the plan.  She gave Lindsay a shy smile.  “We so walked into that one.”

 “You so aren’t kidding.”  Lindsay sighed, touched by what she knew her friends were doing.  “I have to walk Martha first,” she shouted after the departed medical examiner.

 ****

 “Both of you stop laughing.”

 Lindsay doubled over in the parking lot, her hand clutching the side of Claire’s government issued vehicle.  Cindy staggered into the taller detective, giggling adorably as they both tried to catch their breath. 

 Claire crossed her arms and tried to look angry.

 Lindsay sobered under the glare as she put her arm around Cindy’s shoulders, pulling the reporter next to her.  They both affected serious expressions.  “We’re sorry.”

 “Really sorry,” Cindy managed to say before she hiccupped from laughing too much. 

 They abruptly lost it again, and Claire’s lips twitched.  It was good to see Lindsay laughing so hard she was practically crying.  “That little girl is going to be traumatized for life, you know,” Claire pointed out.

 “At least it wasn’t Nate who tripped and pin-wheeled into the set,” Cindy said.  She slid her arm around Lindsay’s waist and held on, afraid if she let go she’d fall on her ass in the middle of the parking lot.

 “Those painted trees went down like dominos…”  Lindsay practically wheezed as she giggled helplessly at the memory.  “And the look on that dragon’s face…”

 “Tommy Reagan,” Claire said.  “He’s gonna have a lump the size of an Easter egg on his forehead.”

 This time they all laughed.

 Lindsay finally sobered and looked at them both with grateful eyes.  “Thanks.  I needed that.”  She felt Cindy’s arm tighten around her waist, and she turned her head, meeting the reporter’s warm brown eyes up close.  She felt gratitude wash through her, but it was chased by something else, something sweeter she couldn’t quite identify.

 Cindy felt her breath hitch as something changed in Lindsay’s gaze.  Her friend’s smile softened a fraction, and Cindy felt her gut react with a nervous flutter.

 Claire looked from Lindsay to the reporter and back again.  Her eyebrows elevated but she chose not to say anything.  It could just be a moment, she rationalized.

 Or maybe it was a beginning.

 She smiled.  “C’mon.  Let me get you girls home.”

 ****

 “Stubborn.”

 Lindsay took Jacobi’s greeting as a compliment.  “And good morning to you, too,” she rasped as she sauntered into the squad room and tossed her leather jacket over the back of her chair.

Jacobi eyed her, relieved to see the dark circles under his partner’s eyes starting to fade.  “You got the coroner’s report?”

 Lindsay tossed him the folder as she swiveled her chair and sank down into it.  “Anything pop on the scripture?  This doesn’t feel like the killer’s first time.”  She blinked when Jacobi stood and leaned across his desk, dumping a pile of folders on hers.  “Are you kidding me?”  There had to be seventy files in front of her.

 “Happy reading,” he drawled as he leaned back in his chair and flipped open the coroner’s report.

 Lindsay shot him a look that went ignored.  “You know we have these things called computers now…”

 Jacobi dropped the file in his hands so he could see her.  “I’m well aware of that, Inspector Wise-Ass.  The computer kicked back one hundred and eighty hits.”  He dipped his head at the files.  “I narrowed it down.”

 Lindsay’s eyes widened at the number.  “There were that many crimes in the last five years that had some sort of religious bent?”

 “People have always used religion as a way to justify their actions against other people.  ‘God made me do it.’  ‘I was just doing God’s work.’”

 “Our killer seems to think he is.”  Lindsay frowned.

 “You think he’s somewhere in that pile?” Jacobi asked.  “That he’s done this before?”

 “I know it.”  Lindsay slipped the top file off the stack and leaned back in her chair.  She had the fleeting thought that she wished the girls were there to help.

 ****

 Three hours later Jill found the inspector with her head on her fist as Lindsay reviewed yet another open file on her desk.  There were two stacks, one on each side of her friend’s head about even in height.  “How’s it going?”

 Lindsay leaned back and stretched, her lower back popping and making the attorney wince in sympathy.  She shook her head.  “Slowly.”

 “Where’s Jacobi?” Jill eyed the empty desk across from Lindsay’s.  It, too, was scattered with files.  She edged aside Lindsay’s in-tray and settled on the corner of her friend’s desk, hitching up her skirt and crossing her long legs.

 “Getting us lunch.”  Lindsay raked a hand through her hair.  She noted the folder in Jill’s hands.  “Please tell me that’s not another crime with religious overtones.”

 “Just this one,” Jill smirked.  “Cindy came through as always, and I was able to check through Blake’s financials pretty quickly.”

 Lindsay gave her head a little shake and opened her eyes wider, trying to perk herself up a little.  “And?”

 “There is nothing there, Linz.  The ex-wife had plenty of cash of her own.  Blake’s partners were full partners who stand to lose more than gain from his death.”

 “None of the restaurants were in trouble?”

 “Not a one.  Have you ever eaten at one of Blake’s places?”

 The detective shook her head.

 “You’re missing out.  You and Pete should try one out the next time he’s in town.  How is he doing anyway?”

 Lindsay frowned.  She hadn’t given her lover much thought this last week, let alone called to check in.  “He’s busy but good.”

 “I still think you should have let him come back for the funeral.”

 “He’d just gotten there.  Honestly I…”

 “Didn’t want to have to deal with one more thing at the time?”  Jill guessed.

 Lindsay smiled guiltily.  Jill knew her cold.  “Yeah.” 

 “I need to talk to Tom for a minute,” Jill said as she glanced up toward his office.  “Let me know when you have something.”

 “The very minute.”  Lindsay sighed as she flipped open another file and started reading.  A frown creased her features, and she felt her heart kick against her sternum as her eyes skimmed the contents of the folder.  Jill was to the top of the steps when Lindsay yelled for her to come back.

 ****

 Jill lingered behind Jacobi and Lindsay as they unlocked the door to the dilapidated warehouse.  She could still see the residue of the crime scene tape that had once sealed the gray and grungy door six months ago.  She glanced around, breathing in the smell of the ocean and docks that surrounded them.  Lindsay shouldered the door open, and the two officers stepped inside with flashlights burning as Jill followed reluctantly.

 “This place still have power?” Jacobi asked.

 Jill tried the light switch which merely flipped impotently.  “Not in this room.”  She continued behind them until they came to a former storage room.  She smelled the blood before she saw it.

 It had long since dried, staining the walls and concrete floor the color of rust.  Jill swallowed as Lindsay and Jacobi’s flashlight beams played over the walls, showing the spatter patterns that overlapped from multiple beatings.  “Jesus,” she whispered.

 “Don’t feel sorry for the victim,” Jacobi muttered.  “Bastard beat his wife and kids every damn day.  Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

 Lindsay found another light switch and tried it with similar results.  She blew out a frustrated breath.

 “Linz, are you sure this is the same killer?  The victims couldn’t be more different.  Blake was loved and adored.  This Robert Dellan guy was the exact opposite.  No one misses the sonofabitch and it’s clear from the lack of paperwork that no one in the SFPD lost a whole lot of sleep over not closing this one.”  Jill heard something squeak in the corner that sounded suspiciously rodent-like.  She eased closer to her friend unconsciously.

 “Three weeks,” Lindsay said into the relative darkness as she eyed the spot on the floor where Dellan had been tied to a chair and beaten to death.  She could see four distinct squares where the chair legs had been in all that blood.  “Dellan was kept here for three weeks… beaten a little every day with a pipe, a piece of wood, the killer’s fists… whatever this bastard felt like doing to him.”

 “It took patience,” Jacobi murmured.  “He found an isolated spot.  Somewhere where no one would hear the victim scream.”

 Jill flipped open the folder she carried and motioned Lindsay over with the flashlight.  “Dellan used to own the business here.  Apparently his mismanagement of the financials led to the company’s ruin.  Lot of people lost their jobs.”

 “Not just an isolated spot,” Lindsay said.  “A spot that was isolated and had significance.”

 “Just like Blake’s kitchen.”  Jacobi turned and went to a door on the other side of the room.  He opened it and peered into the darkness.

 Jill and Lindsay looked at each other in the yellow glow from the flashlight.  It bounced off the pages the attorney was holding, lighting both their faces from beneath and making their eyes appear sunken and hollow.

 “The killer was willing to take his time,” Jill said quietly.  “However long it took.  Just like he did with Blake.”

 “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”

 Jill looked at Lindsay as she rattled off the scripture seemingly from memory. 

 “Ephesians, chapter four, verses thirty one and thirty two,” Lindsay said.

 “I’m impressed.”

 Lindsay shook her head.  “Don’t be.”  She swung the flashlight around to the far wall

The passage was written on it in Dellan’s blood.

 ****

episode list   promotional graphics   credits   links   contact   downloads

disclaimer