Hidden Nature
by Shadowriter
Part TenIt was Halloween the next day. The city waited for the sun to set so that revelry could fill the streets. From children to adult, costumes of all shapes and sizes paraded through the streets, some with mom's and dad's watching them carefully, others with not-so-pure intentions for the evening. As Lindsay Boxer had wished, the party went on without a new killer haunting the party-goers.
Cindy Thomas missed it all.
After her return from the hospital early in the morning she'd slowly and carefully written out her story on the events of the previous evening. She'd then emailed it to her boss, along with a scanned copy of the hospital report and the doctor's statement that she had a torn rotator cuff in her shoulder and was to be off work until at least Monday if not longer.
Of course, everything but the injury report from the doctor was pure fabrication.
The official story, as Cindy had written it and how Lindsay, Claire and Jill would report it, was that the killer had been following Cindy's stories and decided to get attention by killing her next. He'd kidnapped her from her apartment, taking her to the warehouse he had bought the previous year. While he'd been threatening the reporter with loosing his attack dog on her(there had been arguments over the species they should choose, Lindsay wanted to say pit-bull and Drake wanted husky, but Jill had insisted they use a shepard-husky mix), Inspector Boxer had gotten word from ADA Jill Bernhardt that Miller Turkette, their one and only suspect in the case, had property near the dock. She'd proceeded to the warehouse, intending to simply check things out when she'd heard the screams of the reporter. Boxer had burst in and been attacked by the animal. While she'd been fighting with it, Turkette had impaled her with a metal rod and fled. The Inspector had been able to recover her gun and shoot the dog, then called for assistance. The dogs body had been turned over to Dr. Sam Leven at the San Francisco Zoo for the autopsy.
Turkette's body had been found in his car, which had overturned and rolled down a hill after he took a corner too quickly in the area north of the city. The vehicle had burst into flames, leaving just enough for a positive identification.
This was the story for public consumption. It was mostly fiction, created by Drake, and perpetuated by the club.
The truth was that Dr. Leven, friend to the clan, had already destroyed Turk's body. Since shape shifters tended to remain in whatever form they were in when they died, there had been enough pictures to convince the public that he was indeed just a large dog that had been shot and killed.
For the body, clan members had combed the streets, finding a homeless man dead under a bridge. After a quick exam by Claire to make sure foul play had not been a part of his death, his body had been placed behind the wheel of the Toyota Camry and driven to the top of a curved hill before being sent over. A gasoline leak and a lighted match made sure the body was well roasted before the fire department's arrival.
Most of the truth had been covered by quick thinking from Claire and Jill. From a cleansing of the scene and destruction of the evidence to actually creating evidence that would link the car and body to Turkette, the two of them had been the force behind Drake's plot. Cindy didn't know how many laws the two had broken, but so far there had been nothing missed, no 'i' went undotted, no 't' went uncrossed. The framework of the cover-up was holding.
Cindy figured if it could go a week without unraveling they'd probably be in the clear.
After sending off the email, Cindy had showered and then curled up on the sofa with her blanket, her painkillers, and the remote. She napped more than slept; nightmares filled her mind everytime she drifted off. She'd ended up watching old movies on cable, occasionally getting up to get more tea and crackers. She hadn't really eaten, but she wasn't hungry. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be hungry again.
Her phone had been silent. Claire had returned her cell phone to her, but she'd turned it on only long enough to leave a message that she'd be out of touch for a few days and please leave a message. Then she'd turned it off. The house phone had never rung.
She hadn't heard from anyone since leaving the hospital. Since Claire and Jill had both been busy, and Lindsay was being kept overnight, she'd been thinking of calling for a cab when Lieutenant Tom, Lindsay's boss and ex-husband, had offered her a ride. She'd accepted, grateful and yet somehow not. Since he'd dropped her off at five this morning, she'd been alone.
It was going on six in the evening.
She'd lived in the building for a couple of years now, and each of the previous Halloweens she'd put out the little sign that said there'd be candy for trick-or-treaters. This year, the candy sat on the shelf in the kitchen. She hadn't put out the sign, but a few of the kids had still stopped by. She'd heard the knocks and heard their voices calling for treats at her next door neighbor's. But Cindy couldn't face them.
The small hope that had flickered in her at Lindsay's words the night before was fading. Claire and Jill and Lindsay all had the number for the house phone as well as her cell. None of them had called, not even to tell her that their ruse had worked perfectly. Not to let her know that Lindsay was going to be okay. Not to ask if she was okay.
Drake hadn't been by either, though she hadn't expected the shape shifter to appear.
When she'd returned to the warehouse, Drake had been followed by Claire and Jill, who had quickly taken over. Drake had mumbled to Cindy that no one ever listened to her anymore, and Boxer, still being poked and prodded by Claire had absolutely agreed.
The Inspector had growled at Claire. "I told you to stay at Cindy's place."
"Like I was gonna listen to you, Miss I'm-Too-Tough-to-Wait-for-Back-up?"
Memory of their banter brought a tiny smile to Cindy's face, but it faded quickly.
There was another knock at her door, but she ignored it. When it came again, she sighed, sorry that she was disappointing the kids, but too tired, inside and out, to do anything about it.
This time it wasn't so much a knock as much as a bang. It was accompanied by a voice.
"Cindy Thomas, I know you're in there. You open this door right now."
It was the firm 'Mom' voice that Claire used that had her off the couch before she even thought about it.
"And if you don't open it, I know some big burly police officers that will come break it down for us."
Jill's addition made her smile. Glancing through the peep hole, she sighed in relief on seeing her friends there, looking anxiously at the door. She saw Claire's hand rise up to bang again, and quickly stepped back, undoing the dead bolt and opening the door.
She knew she looked awful. She made a feeble move with her good hand to pat down her hair, but knew she couldn't do anything about the bathrobe or the circles under her eyes.
Claire barged in, a bag of take out dangling from one hand. Jill followed, closing the door behind her and then turning to look at her young friend.
The concerned look on her face said she didn't like what she saw.
"Have you eaten?" Claire asked as she placed the food on the breakfast bar.
"Hi. Um, not really. Just crackers and stuff." She was surprised when Jill slid an arm around her and guided her into the kitchen. "I'm just not hungry."
"Well, get hungry, sweetie, cause we got all your favorites. There's kung pao chicken, mu shu, garlic shrimp, and even those dumplings you like."
"You brought me gyoza?"
Jill nodded. "Lindsay said last time you went out for Chinese you had to get two orders because you ate the first by yourself."
The memory of that dinner made Cindy smile.
Claire had found some plates and was dishing the food out. "How about we go eat in the living room? I think we'd be more comfortable." She dished out a fourth portion, but Cindy, rubbing her eyes, didn't notice.
Jill pushed a plate into Cindy's good hand and ordered her back to the couch. Then she quickly opened the bottle of wine they'd brought and filled the glasses Claire had found. Again, there was a fourth glass, but it sat on the counter alongside the last plate as Claire and Jill made their way to the living room, where Jill sat on the end of the couch and Claire sat on the easy chair.
"What have you done today? Did you take it easy like you were supposed to?"
Cindy nodded. To her surprise, the food actually tasted wonderful, and her stomach growled loudly as the first bite hit. "I've been good. Just stayed home." She shifted and winced as the movement jarred her bad arm.
"Been taking your medicine?" Jill slid the glass of wine closer so her friend didn't have to reach as far. "Only one glass for you tonight."
"I've taken it. Right after I got home and again this afternoon, about one or so."
"You're supposed to take it every four hours."
"It makes me sleepy, Claire."
"And that's not a bad thing."
"It would be if you were having my dreams." She pouted a little as she bit into a fried dumpling.
Jill nodded. "I get it." She took a sip of her wine. "We all have them, you know. Nightmares."
"About people changing into animals and ripping apart the people you love?"
"Nope. About people we love getting shot and dying at our feet." Jill raised her head and let her gaze rest on her friend. "I had them for a long time after you were shot, Cin. We all did. How do you think Lindsay felt about that?"
As tired as she was, Cindy couldn't stop the answer that came from her mouth. "Obviously not much." Then she frowned and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm still a little jealous about Pete."
"She's over him, you know." Claire was watching her speculatively. "She loves you."
Cindy opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again. She held her breath for a moment, hoping to hold back the tears. "I hope she does."
"She does." Jill put a hand on Cindy's knee. "I know she does."
"I -- I haven't heard from her. Is she okay? Is she still in the hospital?"
"She's going to be fine. She was released this morning about ten and went down to the station to see Tom."
"Who promptly threw her out of the office and announced to the bull-pen that anyone who saw Lindsay Boxer in the building for the next 72 hours was to arrest her for trespassing." Jill clapped and laughed. "It was awesome. Jacobi himself marched her out and put her in the cab."
Claire was smiling about it. "She's supposed to be off for at least a week, but might be allowed on desk duty if she behaves. Tom said he'd sic Heather on her if she doesn't."
"That's a low down dirty threat." Cindy had to smile at the image. "But a good one, since that's the only kind of threat she responds to." Her smile faded. "How bad was the damage?"
"Drake was pretty much right. Minimal damage. For once, Boxer got lucky. Found a soft spot between two nerve clusters and missed any major vein or organ. There's muscle damage, but nothing that some physical therapy won't fix." Claire shook her fork at the injured woman across from her. "Minus the blood loss, you were actually hurt worse and will need more recovery time." She leaned forward. "How's your side?"
"Sore. The stitches ache, but if I don't move too much, I'm fine. What about Lindsay's arm where Turk bit her?"
"Badly bruised, but it'll heal. The puncture wounds were deep but they didn't hit anything. Missed the veins in her wrist."
"Thank God."
"We have, several times." Jill smiled at her. "For both of you."
There was a knock at the door and Jill and Claire glanced at each other.
"It's just the neighborhood kids. They thought I was going to be handing out treats, but I'm just -- too tired to deal." Cindy leaned back against the couch, looking at her still half full plate on the coffee table. "Too tired for anything."
"I have just the thing to make you feel better." Jill stood and headed for the door. Claire picked up her and Jill's plates and moved toward the kitchen.
Cindy stayed where she was, her eyes closed. The wine and the food in her stomach was making her feel full and sleepy, even though the pain in her shoulder and side was getting worse. She'd moved more in the last thirty minutes than she had most of the day.
There were murmurings from the kitchen, but she ignored them. She figured Jill could get rid of whoever had been at the door.
It wasn't until a cold wet nose hit her hand that she raised her head. Her eyes landed on the figure of Martha, who was calmly sitting by the couch and nudging Cindy's hand.
"Hi." She reached out to pet the dog, letting her fingers run through the fur slowly. "How'd you get here?"
"I brought her. Made her sit in the back, though she wanted to drive."
Lindsay's voice startled her and she froze. She closed her eyes a second too late to stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.
"Now, don't lie to the poor girl. You know Jacobi brought you over here. You're not allowed to drive for a few days yet." Claire's voice was partially teasing but still not.
"Which is why we had Jacobi bring you over here." Jill had that tone she used when she thought she was being eminently logical. "You two convalescents can keep each other company while you relax and rest." She paused and her tone turned teasing. "Though I wonder how much resting there will really be. Claire, maybe we should --"
"Get going? Good idea."
Cindy still hadn't moved. She couldn't look up. If she was wrong, if Lindsay Boxer wasn't standing in her apartment, she didn't think she could take the heartbreak. But if she was -- if she was, then Cindy would have to face her betrayal, face Lindsay's disappointment.
For the moment, though, she had to face Claire as her friend lifted her chin. She opened her eyes, trying to blink them free of the tears.
Claire kissed her gently on the forehead. "Everything's going to be fine." She knelt and carefully wrapped her arms around the younger woman, trying to let Cindy know just how much she meant to the group. Then she stood and moved away to let Jill take her place.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Jill smirked at her and ruffled her hair a little. "And remember, only one glass of wine. Save the rest for tomorrow night." She wriggled her eyebrows a little, and Cindy had to smile.
"Jill?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm -- sorry. I didn't -- I shouldn't have --"
"Uh-uh." Jill cupped her face in her hands. "Don't go there, sweetie. Everything's over and done. Mistakes were made, apologies were accepted, it's over. Let it go." She kissed Cindy's forehead much like Claire had. "Let it go, Cindy."
More tears flooded down her cheeks, but Cindy felt lighter. She nodded at Jill and raised her good arm to hug her.
"You still owe me some girl-talk." Jill winked at her, then stepped away.
Cindy leaned back on the couch, listening to more murmurs and whispered goodbyes. She heard the door open and close.
And they were alone together.
Martha climbed up onto the sofa and nudged her hand for more petting. Cindy obliged, sniffling. She stopped for a moment to grab a tissue to wipe her eyes and winced as Martha squirmed against her injured side.
"Martha, down."
Cindy looked up to see Lindsay returning from the kitchen, carefully carrying a plate of food and a glass of wine.
The dog obeyed and Lindsay set her plate down, easing her body onto the sofa next to Cindy. She took a look at the woman before and frowned.
"You don't look so good."
"I'm fine." Cindy turned away a little, but still glanced at Lindsay. "You look great."
"For someone with a hole in her shoulder, I suppose I do."
After sleeping for several hours, courtesy of the same pain killers Cindy was on, she'd received instructions from Claire to shower and pack a bag for a few days. She'd had to be extremely careful while bathing, but had made it through the shower. Jill had arrived a short time later and helped pull her hair back and out of the way. Then they'd waited for Claire, only telling Lindsay where they were going when they already had Martha in the car.
When they'd arrived Lindsay had insisted on walking Martha first. Seeing how nervous she was, Claire and Jill had agreed. They'd gotten her sworn oath that she wouldn't try to escape, and then they'd let her take her time. When she felt ready, Lindsay had gathered her bag from the car and walked Martha up the stairs to Cindy's door. She'd almost stopped as images of what she'd seen the night before filled her head. But she'd swallowed them back and knocked with more confidence than she felt.
"It was Claire's idea, you know."
"What was?"
"Dumping me and Martha on you for the weekend." Lindsay took a bite of her dinner. "But I'm sure Jill was quick to jump on the bandwagon."
"Probably." Cindy could do nothing but stare at the woman next to her. The scratches on Lindsay's cheek were still vivid, and the sling that kept her shoulder still, so much like Cindy's own, blended in to the black button up she was wearing.
"Things got kind of out of control for a while."
"Lindsay Boxer, has anyone told you that you have a gift for understatement?"
She smiled, glad Cindy was feeling comfortable enough to joke with her a little.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
Or maybe she wasn't.
Putting down her fork, Lindsay turned to fully face the woman she still wanted, and regarded, as her lover.
"Okay, let's get this out in the open." Cindy took in a startled breath. "Almost everything that's happened in the last two or three days has sucked. Majorly sucked. Dead bodies, shape-shifting creatures gone mad, break-ins, betrayal, arguments, fights, injuries, it's all sucked." She paused and looked Cindy in the eye. "But you know what hasn't sucked?"
Cindy shook her head.
"Us. This. Me and you. This hasn't sucked. In fact, it's been pretty damn good." She turned away and picked up her wine glass to sip from it. "I'm not saying that everything you did was right. We'll probably have arguments about it until we're old and chasing each other around a nursing home in our wheelchairs. But I get it. I understand why you did what you did, why you felt you were trapped. And even if I disagree -- which I do -- " she glanced back up to make sure Cindy was still watching her. "Even if I disagree, the whole thing boils down to this." She took a deep breath. "Did you mean what you told me?"
Surprised, Cindy couldn't answer at first. Then she nodded, and found her voice. "Yes. I meant it."
"Then say it again."
"I love you."
Lindsay relaxed minutely. "Then that's what matters. That we love each other. As Claire says, that's the most important thing in the world." She waved the hand still holding her glass. "Everything else is window-dressing."
"Do you?" Cindy's voice was a whisper.
"Do I what?"
"Do you -- love --"
She put her glass down firmly, then leaned over, using her good hand to draw Cindy to her. Pressing her lips to Cindy's, she held on for a moment, sealing their kiss, needing the connection. When the kiss finally ended, she didn't move, and didn't let Cindy pull away either. Forehead to forehead, they breathed each other in and Lindsay finally spoke.
"Yes. I love you."
And that was good enough. The tears came for both of them as each of them hugged the other as best they could.
"Can you forgive me?""I already have."
As the reunion continued on the couch, neither of them noticed Martha's agitation, or her fascination with the door to the balcony. They didn't see the person standing on the outside looking in.Drake turned away, a smile on her face. The relationship would be good for both of them, she knew. And it would make it easier. The Police Inspector would help keep an eye on the intrepid reporter. And Drake would watch over them both.
Lindsay was clan now, even if she didn't know it. She would have back up to call on, have more eyes and ears on the streets than ever before.
Maybe Turk was right, in a way. Maybe it was time for the clan to come out of the shadows, to at least participate a little more in the world rather than hiding from it.
Moving carefully, minding her own injuries, she made her way down the fire escape to the ground below, leaving Cindy and Lindsay to face the night together.
The End
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