Disclaimers: This is a not-for-profit fanfic based on the television series Women's Murder Club. No copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: This is rated Mature due to violence and graphic descriptions.
Sex: There is no sex in the story, however it does have a same-sex relationship. If this isn't your cup of java, please move along.
Thanks: A great big thanks to the two people who beta-read this for me at the last minute, Chris K and Lucy Diamond. Hugs to you both.
Authors Note: This is my second official fanfic and the first in WMC fandom. I hope everyone enjoys it. If you'd like to tell me that you did, or you didn't, or I should just stop writing, or I should keep writing, drop me a line at Corliss.r@gmail.com. I don't always respond to comments, but I try, and I always value them.
Remember, if there's a knock at your door and nobody's there, it's not Martians. It's Halloween.
Hidden Nature
by Shadowriter
Part One
It wasn't the smell of frying bacon that woke Cindy. While she could definitely smell food cooking, and could hear music drifting in from another part of the apartment, what woke her was the feeling of a cold wet nose in the palm of her hand.
She shifted on the unfamiliar bed and squinted at the dog beside her. Martha was standing on the left side of the bed, occasionally nudging and licking the hand in front of her. Cindy had to smile, wondering if the dog had been sent by her human to fetch the still sleeping reporter.
"Hey, girl. Did you have a good night?" She waited for a reply, and smiled as if she'd gotten one. "Yeah, well, mine? Great night." She leaned a little closer. "But don't tell your mistress that, okay?"
Martha dropped her lower jaw to pant, which made it look as if she was smiling. Cindy winked conspiratorially and rubbed the dog's head before getting out of the bed. She found a robe thrown across the foot of the bed and hoped it had been left there for her, since it hadn't been there the night before. Slipping it on she headed towards the kitchen, wanting the company of her friend, and now lover.
Lindsay Boxer was standing at the stove and cursing softly while trying to flip an omelet in an oversized frying pan. Wielding both a spatula and a wooden spoon, the detective had the large omelet up on its side, but couldn't turn it without it folding in on itself. Finally, using the spatula to lift and the spoon to push, she managed to turn the behemoth on its other side. With a soft shout of triumph, she reached for the cheese, only to knock the package onto the floor.
"Crap!"
Cindy couldn't help but chuckle as she came forward to help. Rescuing the cheddar from the inquisitive nose of Martha, the younger woman leaned into Lindsay, bumping her lightly with a hip.
"You didn't have to make breakfast, Linds."
"Yeah, well . . . it just seemed the thing to do." She waved at the pan. "Hope it's okay. I don't do so well with omelets."
"Then why'd you try to make one?"
"Well, when we went to breakfast with Claire and Jill you said you loved them, so . . ."
"Yeah, but you didn't have to make me one." Lindsay glanced at her, and Cindy was surprised to see a little pout on the face of the Police Inspector. "But thank you. It looks great. Huge, but great."
"Yeah, it turned out a little large, but then I thought, hey, we'll just share it. That way I don't have to embarrass myself twice trying to make another one."
The reporter laughed and nodded. "Good idea. I'll set the table."
"There's coffee if you want it." Lindsay nodded towards the end of the counter. "If you could pour some for me I'd appreciate it."
"You did this before coffee?"
"Nope. I'm occasionally crazy, but not that crazy. My cup is next to the pot."
With a laugh, Cindy poured the dark liquid and retreated to the table. Taking a guess as to where the plates were, she found with a smile that she was right. Lindsay reached over to open the silverware drawer and the table was set in short order. A few minutes later the two of them sat down to try the over-stuffed omelet the Inspector had made.
"You don't think it's overdone, do you?"
"Nah. I usually have to ask most places to cook mine a little longer 'cause I hate runny eggs. This is perfect, Linds."
"Did you want toast?" Springing up from her chair, Lindsay was about to head back into the kitchen. "I've got wheat or wh--"
A hand on her arm stopped her. "Linds. Don't worry about it."
With a glance down at Cindy's hand, Lindsay stopped. "No toast?"
"Not unless you want some."
"Oh, no, I'm fine, I just -- thought --"
"Lindsay, sit down and eat before your omelet goes cold."
Sporting a shy smile, Lindsay did.
There was minimal conversation for the moment as the two of them edged around each other, looking for the comfort zone they could feel hiding from them. Neither of them wanted to bring up the previous night, their first together, but both knew it had to happen soon.
Finally, food finished, Lindsay put down her fork and sighed. "I -- guess we should -- talk."
Cindy nodded, playing with the last bite of her eggs. "I guess."
But neither of them spoke for several moments until Cindy looked up and took a deep breath. "Do you regret last night?"
The inspector shook her head. "No. Absolutely not." She ran a hand through her hair. "That's about the only thing I'm certain of." Her gaze stopped on her companion. "Why, do you?"
"No. God no." Cindy gave her a hesitant smile. "Last night was -- perfect. I've been wanting that to happen for . . . months."
"Months?"
"Yeah." She had to giggle. "After you went crazy when Jamie Galvin 'kidnapped' me."
Lindsay's eyes went wide. "That long? And you never said anything?"
Cindy looked uncomfortable. "Well, we were all after Kiss-Me-Not, and then I got shot, and you met Pete . . . it just always seemed the wrong time to bring up anything . . . romantic."
The inspector had to admit that the reporter had a good point. Until recently, it had always been the wrong time. Until recently, Lindsay would have stayed inside her self-imposed isolation, or hidden behind the long distance relationship that was her excuse for not having a true social life. It was only after her father's death, and Pete's breaking it off with her that she'd found herself willing for the first time in a long time to step out of her comfort zone and try something risky.
The determination of her friends, especially Cindy, not to let her wallow in her self pity had also been a factor in Lindsay allowing herself the freedom to explore the feelings she'd just begun to understand. Her exploration had turned into a few outings, several unacknowledged dates, and the reporter finally staying over last night.
The peace she'd felt when she awoke to find the redhead spooned against her was the most amazing thing she'd ever known, and Lindsay knew she wanted more of it.
"Does this mean we're . . . dating?" she asked softly.
Cindy chuckled. "Actually, I think we've already done the dating thing."
"We did?" Lindsay tried to look surprised. "Where was I when we did this?"
"Right there, sitting across the table from me. Or are you saying it wasn't a date when you took me to the most expensive Italian restaurant in the city, or to your favorite little Mexican dive?"
Smiling at both Cindy and herself, Lindsay shook her head. "No. They were dates. Even if I couldn't admit it then."
"Right." Cindy nodded. "So, we did the date thing. Now we've done the sex thing." She watched a blush crawl across her lover's face. "Don't even ask me where you were for that."
She had to laugh, and then she had to lean across the table and gently kiss the reporter firmly on the mouth. "No," she whispered, "I was definitely there for that."
They kissed again, over the dirty breakfast dishes. After a moment, Cindy pulled back and stood up, then made her way around the table to slip onto Lindsay's lap where she kissed her again.
"Want to go make sure your memory's accurate?"
"I'd love--"
The Inspector's cell phone went off, buzzing noisily and vibrating on the counter where she'd left it. With a sigh, she reached for it, just as the ring tone for Cindy's phone came from the bedroom.
Lindsay sighed. "Hold that thought."
"Right." The reporter slipped off the taller woman's lap and headed to find her phone.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Lindsay flipped open her phone. "Boxer."
The uniformed officer at the crime scene was young and new, and Lindsay had to show her badge before he gave her a respectful nod and held the tape up for her. She ducked slightly and headed over to where she could see Claire kneeling beside a tarp covered body, with her partner standing behind her.
"What've we got?"
"And a good morning to you, too."
"It was good, Jacobi, until you called."
"Ha, ha." He flipped open his notepad. "The victim is female, 23, Sandra Montserat. She was reported missing at approximately five-thirty this morning. She and her boyfriend had gone to a local night club, but they'd fought and she called a friend, Maria Nuevo, to pick her up. Maria came over to pick up her friend. Sandra wasn't there, and she didn't show up at their apartment building, nor did her boyfriend have any idea where she was. Maria called the police after checking with all their friends."
Lindsay sighed. "Well, at least there isn't a missing persons case anymore." Her two colleagues stared at her for a moment. "What?"
"You're making jokes at a crime scene?" Jacobi seemed surprised.
“Must have been a real good morning.” Claire smiled at her and stood.
“Why is there a tarp already covering?”
Claire shrugged. “All the photos have been taken, and our victim is not a pretty sight.”
“I've already had two uniforms vomit here in the alley.” He motioned with his head toward a nearby trash dumpster where the inspector spotted Jill Bernhardt, white faced, leaning against the wall. “Didn't think it would be good for morale if the deputy D.A. fainted at the scene.”
“That bad?” She got a nod back from Claire. “You know I need to see this.”
Jacobi turned away. “I'll be checking on your friend. I've already seen it.”
He moved away, and Lindsay stared at him for a moment. She'd never known a scene to bother Jacobi in the slightest, but even he seemed a little green around the gills.
“It's really that bad?”
Claire nodded and squatted down. “See for yourself.”
The inspector knelt next to her friend and watched as Claire drew back the heavy black tarp.
The omelet she'd had for breakfast threatened to make a reappearance before she turned her head for a moment to get a grip on herself. When she was ready, she looked again.
Sandra Montserat had been savaged. The body was naked, coated liberally with drying blood, and there were chunks of flesh torn from her face and torso. One breast appeared to have been torn off. As Claire lifted the tarp further to show the abdomen, Lindsay had to take a deep breath and close her eyes. The stomach had been carved open, showing the intestines and other organs. She forced herself to look for a moment longer, then stood abruptly, letting Claire drop the canvas back over the corpse.
“Tell me what you have so far.” Lindsay couldn't look at her friend yet. Instead, she focused on the opposite wall of the alley.
“Well, she wasn't killed here. This was a drop site, obviously.” Claire gently steered her friend away from the corpse and nodded at the guys waiting with a gurney.
“Not enough blood, yeah, I got that. What about the body itself?” Lindsay couldn't watch as the men removed the tarp and quickly lifted the body into a black bag.
“Can't tell you much until I get her on the table. I'd say cause of death was blood loss, but I can't be sure until I look closer.”
“Any idea on the murder weapon – what made those gouges in her cheek and chest?”
“Well, the slice across the stomach was a very small but very sharp blade of some kind. There's no tearing that I could see, just straight edges. But the other? Not positive.” Claire frowned. “I have to say, it almost looks like she was attacked by an animal. If you look closely you can see tooth marks.”
The inspector tilted her head. “A wild animal in San Francisco – big enough to do this?”
Her friend shrugged. “Doesn't have to be wild. There are people who like to raise big dogs.”
“Or big cats.” The inspector nodded. “We could start there.”
Claire smiled. “That would be a good job for Lois Lane – keep her out of trouble for a half day or so.”
Lindsay snorted. “Not possible.” She turned toward the end of the alley, and spotted the subject of their conversation leaning against the wall and talking to the rookie uniform cop. The inspector felt the smile on her face, but couldn't seem to make it go away.
“Good morning, huh?” Claire was smiling at her. “And an even better night?”
Dropping her eyes, but still smiling, Lindsay nodded. “Keep it quiet, would you, Claire? I don't think either of us are ready for it to be common knowledge.”
“Then you need to keep your eyes off her.”
Lindsay turned to find Jill behind her, still a little green, but smiling. “Why?”
“Cause they give you away, my friend.” The blonde gave a nod toward the reporter waiting at the end of the alley. “Inspector Boxer doesn't smile. But you do, every time you look at her.”
“Love looks good on you, Linds.”
The inspector snorted and shook her head. “Love? Come on, Claire, it's only been one night.”
“Oh, it's been a lot longer than that. Or did you really think we didn't know about the secret dates and late night phone calls?”
“What secret? You knew we were hanging out and going to eat sometimes.” Lindsay shifted uneasily. “And the calls – how the hell did you know about those?”
“We can play detective, too, Linds.” Jill winked.
Claire snorted. "Right. Like they didn't make it easy for us when both their cell phones would be busy at the exact same time every night."
Lindsay winced in chagrin. "Does everybody else know?"
"Just Jacobi, and he had it figured out just as quick as we did." Jill put a hand on her shoulder. "Face it, Boxer, you and Cindy are a thing. A bona-fide couple, now that you've done the deed."
"And what makes you think we did that?" The police inspector inside her was aware of how impertinent this conversation was considering where they were standing. The rest of her didn't care.
Jill's smile widened and became just a little naughty. "Lately I have gotten to know something about the smile on a woman's face after a night of good sex." She tilted her head. "Granted, it's mainly from seeing my own in the mirror on the morning after, but it's a sight I've become very familiar with." She pulled back for a moment and studied her friend. "Oh, yes. Very good sex."
Claire laughed and Lindsay pulled back from her friend.
"If you two are done laughing at me, do you think we could get back to why we're here?" She noticed Jacobi headed back over. "You remember? Dead girl? Bite marks? Stomach ripped open?"
Jill blanched. "I remember."
"So we're ready to be police officers again instead of gossip central?" Lindsay motioned to Jacobi. "The body's naked, how did we i.d. her so quickly?"
"Her clothes and purse were bundled together, wrapped in her coat, and placed at her feet."
"Carefully wrapped?"
Claire answered with a shake of her head. "I don't think so. Looked like they'd just been thrown together."
"So it didn't seem ritualistic. What kind of killer are we dealing with here?" Lindsay rubbed her forehead. "Time of death?"
"From the onset of rigor mortis, I'd say she's been dead about four to six hours."
"So, she died right around the time her friend was calling the police." Jacobi sighed. "Wonderful."
Glancing at her watch, Lindsay noted that he was right. It was just going on ten-thirty on Wednesday morning. "Okay, here's the deal. It's nearly Halloween, and that means there are going to be a lot of people on the streets, especially since it's on a Friday. That means he's going to have a lot of victims to choose from, and I don't want this nut on the streets to make a choice. We've got two days to stop him. So, Claire?"
"I'll put a rush on the autopsy. A case this savage deserves a quick resolution."
"Thank you. Jill?"
"I'm going to talk to the friend, Maria Nuevo, and then the boyfriend, Luis Montoya. I'll call you if I get anything."
"Great. Jacobi and I are headed over to the club. Might be a little early, but we'll wake their asses up if we have to."
"And your girlfri-- uh, Lois Lane?" Jacobi winced at his blunder, but finished his question.
Lindsay sighed. Things were going to change and she wondered if she was ready for this. "I'll give her a few details to satisfy readers, and ask her to check on people that own large animals, especially exotic cats, and find out if anyone's missing one."
Jill had tried to hide a smirk, but failed. Claire just nodded. "That should keep her busy for half a morning."
"And if it doesn't, she'll find something else to get into." Lindsay nodded to all of them and headed over to talk to her girlfri-- lov -- friend.
"Exotic cats?" Cindy frowned. "You think someone, what, took their pet tiger along to kill a woman?"
"Sounds strange, I know, but there are teeth marks, like fangs." Lindsay sighed and leaned against the wall. "You know I need you to keep that quiet for now."
"That goes without saying." Cindy noticed the pale tinge to the inspector's normally dark skin tone. "Are you okay?"
"You're asking me?" Boxer smiled. "Jill's the one that nearly passed out."
"Sure, but you look -- well, not green, but a little weirded out."
"Just be glad you didn't see the body."
"I'll have to see it when we go see Claire."
Lindsay shook her head. "No. I can tell you now that Jill won't go in there if the body's uncovered. And Claire doesn't like her vomiting in the morgue anyway."
"So we'll meet where, in her office rather than the exam room?"
"Probably. Anyway, you need anything else?"
Cindy flipped open her notepad. "Victim's name, age, last seen at the bar, bloody attack, bloody clothes and purse wrapped in coat, no witnesses, anyone who saw her leaving the club should contact the police. Anything else?"
"Grieving boyfriend?"
"Well, we'll see if he's grieving. I'll get his name from Jill and see what impressions we both get."
"Okay." Lindsay almost bit her tongue, but decided to just say what was on her mind. "Don't suppose I could get you to just sit this one out?"
Cindy blew her a raspberry and Lindsay laughed. "Fine. Off you go, Lois Lane. Find out how many exotic animals are living in San Francisco outside the confines of the zoo." She started to turn away, but stopped, a speculative look on her face.
Cindy watched for a moment, then spoke softly. "What is it?"
"You don't think -- this would be too gruesome, but after Billy Harris -- you don't think . . ."
"Lindsay, what?"
"You don't think it could be a person, do you? With fake fangs? Or, maybe they had their teeth filed? Or . . . " she stopped, shaking her head. "No. I can't believe someone would do that. I mean, maybe cut off the flesh and eat it, if they've got cannibal cravings like Dahmer, but just ripping it from the body with their mouths?"
She shook her head again, then looked at Cindy's face, which had gone pale. "Hey, I'm sure that's not what happened. It's just a cat that got out of control or something. Or maybe she was killed and the body was chewed on after she died." Lindsay put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "You okay?"
Cindy nodded, and got out a trembling smile. "Yeah, I'm okay. That was just a little gruesome, Linds."
"Yeah. So was the body." She sighed and closed her eyes against the urge to hug or kiss the woman who'd been in her arms and her bed just hours before. "I have to go. Jacobi and I are headed to the club."
"A-and I'm off to do some research. I'll see you later?"
"I'll have Claire call when she's done with the autopsy."
"Then I'll call if I get something before then." Cindy let her hand gently touch Lindsay's as the older woman smiled and walked away.
As she left, Lindsay missed the panicked look on her young lover's face and the frantic grab for her cell phone as she left the alley at a run.
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