Hidden Nature
by Shadowriter
Part Six
Cindy returned alone to the scene. She waited quietly while her three friends and club members finished their official duties. Then, one by one, they approached her. Jill was first, looking even more green than the day before. The reporter could see the shine on her upper lip that said she'd had to use vapor rub to avoid the stench of death in the alley. Then Claire joined them, and Cindy gave her a tremulous smile. She knew that Claire had recognized Drake's name, and anticipated a discussion on the subject later.
The fact that Cindy was going to use that discussion to betray the Medical Examiner, her friend, just made her stomach hurt.
Finally, Lindsay approached, pulling them all to the side, behind a large truck parked on the street. She leaned up against the wall to give Cindy a run down.
"It's the same guy. Venner was killed by -- well, as Claire said, it looks like he was chewed to death."
Cindy winced, realizing why Jill had turned so pale.
"Claire, you said you found hairs again?"
"Yeah, and there's definitely skin under the nails. We should be able to get good DNA off the sample." She carefully avoided looking at Cindy, who was also avoiding looking at her.
"Okay. We need to get this guy. Tomorrow is Halloween, and I don't need the crowds panicking, thinking some innocent in a costume is a killer."
"Well, I'm getting nowhere in my research." Jill blew the bangs out of her eyes. "Cindy was right yesterday, Venner was just a nice guy who flirted with a girl in a club. He had no enemies that we know of, not even Montserat's boyfriend who said he blamed himself and no one else."
"So far forensics hasn't been a very big help, but I'll go over everything again with a fine-toothed comb." Claire managed to look confident while she gazed at Lindsay. "We'll get him."
"Yeah. Cindy, anything on the cat angle? Big dogs? Someone like a Michael Vick, maybe, who got tired of having his dogs fight each other and decided to let them go after a human instead?"
"Um, no, not really." She'd done a little pursuit of the question the day before, but not much, especially once it was confirmed who the killer was. "I'll keep looking through records. Maybe someone moved here recently? Or maybe it's someone who went a little nuts with a dog trained for security?"
"That's a good thought. Jacobi and I can work the security angle. Claire, recheck all your findings. It has to be an animal of some kind. If you can tell me what kind it would really help."
"Absolutely." This time she glanced at Cindy.
"We got nothing off the car last night?" Jill looked skeptical. "Not even a blood stain?"
Lindsay shook her head. "Two partial prints, hair fibers that appear similar to the ones found on Montserat, and what looked to be claw marks. Nothing else." She sighed. "Okay, it seems our big cat or attack dog is our best bet, so let's keep hitting those angles hard. Claire, call me the minute you have anything."
"Will do."
The club started to break up and go their separate ways, but Cindy grabbed Lindsay's arm and held onto it. Lindsay raised an eyebrow, but waited until Claire and Jill had both left before turning to the reporter.
"You needed something?"
"Yes. I need to tell you something. It's important." Cindy swallowed once, hoping to force back the tears she could feel fighting for the surface.
Lindsay leaned against the truck, close to her lover. "What is it?"
She took a deep breath and leaned forward, her lips close to Lindsay's ear. "Maybe it's too early to say this, but I need you to know and remember it." She kissed the Inspector's cheek, then moved back to her ear. "I love you. With all my heart." She kissed her again, then turned around and left, letting the tears fall as she headed back to her car.
It took several seconds for the statement to really penetrate Lindsay's tired mind, but when it did, her eyes closed and she smiled. By the time she opened them, Cindy was gone, headed off to the cars, and Jacobi was approaching her.
"Tom wants an update on the situation. Wants to know if we think it's a serial and if we have any leads so far."
Even hearing her ex's name and being reminded of the case couldn't completely curb the feeling of contentment that Lindsay had felt at Cindy's declaration. "The update is, we know nothing, but we're still working all the leads. I'll be heading down to the morgue later to find out if Claire has anything new. There's possible DNA under his fingernails, and matching hair fibers, but that's all we have."
Jacobi sighed. "Are you thinking somebody's using these people to feed their dogs?"
With a shrug, Lindsay nodded. "It's possible, I suppose."
"You suppose?" Her partner regarded her carefully. "Boxer, are you okay?"
This time she couldn't help smiling as she put an arm around him.
"Jacobi, you know restaurants. Do you know where I can get a really killer omelet . . .?"
Claire was very surprised to get a call from Cindy late that morning. The fact that it was an invitation to lunch made her raise her eyebrows. She knew she wanted to talk to the young reporter, but didn't expect her to come willingly to the interrogation.
"I'm just finishing up a couple of tests here. Meet me at Joe's?"
Just the thought of their usual hang out and club meeting place made Cindy wince. She rubbed her forehead, fighting the tension headache that was threatening to descend. "Um, how about Brenner's Cafe? It's -- a little closer." And she'd never been there with Lindsay or Claire so it didn't feel like one more betrayal.
"Didn't know you liked Brenner's. That's fine. About half an hour?"
"Sounds great."
"Cindy? Are you okay?"
"Sure." The reporter took a deep breath. "I think I just need a time out from the stress, you know?" That at least wasn't a lie.
"Absolutely. I'll try to keep the grilling down to a minimum." It was said in a humorous manner, but both of them knew it was a serious statement. "See you soon?"
"Soon."
Cindy hung up and looked at Drake. "It's done. No guarantees I'll be able to keep her there long. As Jill and Claire tell it, I'm the worst liar ever."
Drake chuckled. "Only if you care about the person you're trying to lie to." She put a hand on the reporter's shoulder. "I'll be quick. I just need to get the fibers and samples. I don't care about the reports; if they don't have the samples to double check, they can't prove the first test."
Looking miserable, Cindy lowered her eyes to the floor. "I better go. Need to get a table at Brenner's."
"What was wrong with Papa Joe's? I thought you liked that place, and it's farther away."
Without answering, the reporter glared at the tall woman and left.
Cindy was already seated and sipping coffee at the cafe when Claire got there. After a hug, Claire took a long look at her friend as she dropped her jacket on the back of her chair.
"You look awful, girlfriend."
The reporter laughed. "Yeah, well, you should see the other guy."
"What other guy?"
"I don't know, but isn't that what people say when someone tells them they look awful?"
"Only if they've been in a fight."
"Oh." She took a sip of coffee. "Well, sometimes it feels that way."
A thought popped up in Claire's mind, accompanying the image of Cindy being manhandled by her 'friend' Drake. "She didn't -- I mean, she's -- you're not --"
Cindy tilted her head. "Claire? What are you asking?"
"Does that mean you and Drake had a fight?" She kept her gaze focused on her friend's eyes. "Does she --"
"Hit me? No. Never." That was the least of her worries. She'd never been afraid of Drake. Even now, she was only afraid of what Drake asked her to do. "She's never hurt me, Claire. Never."
"Ever? In any way? Doesn't have to be physical, Cin."
Asking her to lie to her friends -- did that count as emotional abuse? "Can we talk about something else?"
Patting Cindy's hand, Claire nodded and opened her menu. "I haven't been here in years. Do they still have those great Rueben sandwiches?"
"They're okay. I like the chicken and avocado grill wrap myself." Cindy glanced at her watch. Drake had said it wouldn't take long. She could only hope her friend was right.
Jill was going over witness statements in her office. It was giving her a headache and making her feel useless. All the witnesses said the same thing. Sandra Montserat and her boyfriend had argued over her flirting with Anthony Venner, who had left his friends to offer the girl a ride home. The two of them had driven off in Venner's car together with no one else. From there, they disappeared. No one had seen the car till it was found off of I-5, and no one had seen Sandra or Anthony until their bodies were found in two separate alleys.
As she got to the bottom of the stack, she noticed a statement from one of Venner's friends that she'd missed before.
"We were all just hanging out having fun, flirting with a couple girls, when this guy comes flying at Tony out of no where. Turk and Randy stepped in to pull 'em apart, and then the other guy left. I heard Turk tell Tony to be a man and offer the girl a ride, but Tony said no. Guess he changed his mind."
With a frown, Jill began flipping back through reports. In another one she found a mention of a "Turk" who was a regular, but there was no statement by this Turk, nor did anyone seem to know his real name.
She started calling a few witnesses back, and finally got to the bartender, who told her a little more.
"Oh, yeah, Turk. He's - well, he's an interesting guy. Been everywhere, likes to talk about it. Says he even hunted lions in Africa. Likes to talk big, and watch the ladies."
"So, he's a player?"
"Nah, not so much. Like I said, big talker. Not much action. The guy just watches. But he's weird. Has this habit of licking his lips. He told me one time that all people are meat and someday the predators would take us all down."
"Why didn't you tell this to the police?"
"Tell 'em what? That this weird guy hangs out at the bar? He and Tony didn't even know each other. Least, I never saw them together."
But someone had.
If this Turk had wanted Tony to pick up the girl, he could have waited until he did and then --
On a hunch, she dug through another stack of paper on her desk. Venner's phone had been found in the front seat of his car, turned off. For some reason, they hadn't yet received the cell phone records. Jill put in a call to hurry that process along, then headed for the evidence room to look at the phone itself.
The last received call had been from an unlisted private number. The time stamp was just five minutes after Anthony Venner and Sandra Montserat had left the club.
Starving, yet armed with a nickname and a hunch, Jill headed down to see Claire, calling Lindsay to meet her there.
"So, you gonna tell me about this morning?"
As a start to an interrogation, it was a rather gentle one, and Cindy could do little but nod.
"That was THE Drake? The one you told me about yesterday?"
"Yeah, that was her." She gave Claire a half smile. "What did you think?"
"Well, I didn't meet her, so I can only judge from appearance, but -- she's definitely good looking." Claire sipped from her water. "Reminds me of Lindsay in a kind of 'I'm all that' butch way."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." Cindy's innocent look lasted for only seconds before she and Claire chuckled. "All right, fine. I've always been a sucker for a tall butch."
"Wouldn't have guessed it." Claire grinned at her younger friend.
Laughing with Claire made everything better and worse at the same time. "Tell me about the case?"
Claire frowned. "Nothing much to tell. Pretty much the same as with the girl. Only difference is the actual cause of death."
"Cause?"
"With Montserat, the killer took out her tongue and she choked on her own blood. Venner died from blood loss after he was -- well, basically emasculated. And again, he didn't use a knife."
The idea made Cindy gag, and she raised her napkin to her mouth.
"I'm sorry. I should have waited till we'd finished lunch."
The reporter shook her head. "No, I'm the one that asked. It's okay." She sipped her water glass, knowing her rebellious stomach was caused by more than Claire's description. She glanced at her watch again.
"You've been doing that all through lunch. Have a meeting coming up?"
Startled, Cindy wasn't sure what to say. "Um, no -- uh, I mean . . . maybe." She gulped from her glass. "I'm hoping for an interview." Not truly a lie, she told herself, as she was always hoping for an interview.
"From who?" Claire knew something was wrong with her younger friend.
"Who what?"
"Who's the hopeful interview with?"
Stuck for a name, Cindy began to flounder.
Claire placed a hand on her forearm. "Cindy, what's wrong? What aren't you telling me?"
The nausea became overwhelming and the reporter had to excuse herself to run to the restroom.
"For once, I think I fou--" Jill stopped, surprised to find someone else behind Claire's desk. Someone who looked a little familiar. "Hi. Who are you?"
The blonde haired woman looked up. "Hi. Uh, sorry, can I help you?"
"You can tell me who you are and why you're in Claire's office going through the things on her desk." Jill had gone the long way through the morgue, but had passed two uniformed officers and a lab technician just down the hall. If she screamed, she knew someone would hear her.
"Um, I was sent to look for something." The woman stood, and her height made Jill compare her to Lindsay.
"And you couldn't wait till she got back?"
"She's . . . stuck in a meeting and sent me. I'm new in the department."
"Right." Jill suddenly remembered comparing another tall woman to Lindsay just that morning -- a blonde who had been holding Cindy's arm. "Let's try telling the truth this time, or should I just call for those officers down the hall?"
Drake looked down at the desk, then back at the lawyer in front of her. She'd always liked and admired strong and stubborn women, but she was getting a little tired of dealing with them.
"Fine. I'm here to steal the samples from the last two autopsies she's done."
Jill's eyes widened and she turned abruptly, heading through the morgue toward the door, hoping those policemen were still there.
Before she could reach it, her arm was grabbed and she was spun around. A hand covered her mouth and she was pressed backwards against a wall.
"Okay, stop. I'm not going to hurt you."
Obviously not believing the woman, Jill tried to kick her and used her free hand to try to push her hand off her mouth. If she could just get a little room, she could scream.
"Damn it, stop that." With a sigh, Drake began to push the struggling woman's arm up behind her. Keeping a hand firmly over her mouth. She forced her to turn and face the wall, then pressed her body against the lawyer's. This freed her hand, which she then brought up to press firmly into the sides of her captive's neck. Squeezing carefully, she leaned forward. "Relax. Stop fighting and it won't hurt. Just be still. Shh."
The pain hit first, but then dulled. As it did, it took the rest of her senses with it. Within moments her vision was dimming, and the sound of the voice in her ear was getting farther away. Fighting for consciousness, she felt the hand slip away from her mouth, but all she could do was take a deep breath as darkness invaded her vision.
A moment later she slumped in her attacker's arms.
Drake sighed and let the woman slide down the wall. She knew she'd have a heck of a headache when she woke up, but it couldn't be helped. Gently rearranging Jill's limbs into a more comfortable postion, she berated herself. She knew how close these women were and should have made Cindy invite the blonde lawyer as well.
Now Claire, as smart as the M.E. was, would figure out that Cindy had set her up. With a regretful sigh, she touched the elfin face before her, knowing that she'd probably ruined three very good friendships for the young reporter.
As well as her relationship.
Standing and heading out the door, she picked up the bag of samples she'd come to find. As far as the records went, this was all they had, save two that were sent to the zoo for further analysis. She'd poured bleach over both bodies to prevent the collection of anymore trace evidence, and the zoo would be easy to slip into -- Dr. Leven was a clan-friend like Cindy.
Now she just had to get out of the morgue, a problem which was now complicated by the tall Inspector walking quickly down the hallway.
When Cindy finally arrived back at the table, the dishes had been cleared; even Cindy's meal that she'd barely touched was gone. She sat back down with a grateful smile at Claire.
Claire was no longer smiling. "Fine. You won't tell me what's wrong? I'll tell you. Just stop me when I get to it." She leaned forward. "You're pregnant and you don't know how to tell Lindsay."
Cindy nearly spit out the water she was drinking. "What? No!"
"You're in love with Jill, not Lindsay."
The reporter considered. "Jill's cute. But, no. Lindsay's it for me."
"You're in love with me and you don't know how to tell me."
All Cindy could do was laugh at that, and Claire joined her.
"Seriously, girlfriend, what's going on with you? Why did you need me to come to lunch with you? It sounded like it was really important, but I get here, and we talk about everything but what's bothering you."
The concerned look on Claire's face, along with the way she was holding her hand, made Cindy drop her head. She closed her eyes and slowly said a mental goodbye to Lindsay. It wasn't fair to Claire to lie to her anymore, but revealing it would probably cost her everything.
"I didn't -- invite you here to talk. I needed --"
Claire's cell phone rang, and she quickly pulled it from her coat pocket. "It's Lindsay. Hold that thought, sweetheart."
"Washburn." Her eyes widened at Lindsay's almost hysterical voice. "What? Where?" She reached out to hold Cindy's hand again. "I've been at lunch with Cindy, but we're not far away. We'll be there soon." She shut the phone and stood. "Come on. Jill's been injured."
"Injured? How?" Cindy stood, grabbing her coat and bag. "What happened?"
"Lindsay said she found her unconscious in my office. She's awake, but not really coherent yet."
"Your office?" The reporter stopped, dread and guilt filling her.
When Claire turned to look at her friend, her face had gone so pale, she thought she might faint. She grabbed the reporter's arm. "Cindy?"
"I'm so sorry." Her voice was a whisper. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry."
"Sweetheart, what are you sorry for?"
"For Jill. It's all my fault." She sat back down in her chair. "Drake told me to get you out of your office."
"What? Why?"
As tears ran down her face, Cindy took a deep breath. "The samples -- from the bodies. She said --"
"Oh, dear God."
Claire bolted from the restaurant. Cindy slowly followed, knowing her time as a club member was over.
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