Olivia stepped into the
interrogation room, nodding at Elliot who was standing with his back to the
wall behind Serra.
The small blonde was
slouched in a chair, an angry pout on her face as her fingers tapped rapidly
against the tabletop. When she saw
Olivia, she sat up straight, her eyes flashing with anger. “You have no right to drag me down here! This is harassment!”
Olivia raised her
eyebrows. “How do you figure that?” She leaned on the window sill, gripping the
edge with her hands.
“Shelly told me you went to
the house, and then to my work?” Serra spat.
“What would you call it?”
“Doing our jobs?”
“Your jobs, right! That’s rich!”
She glanced over her shoulder at Stabler. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re
trying to do! With your trained ape
breathing down my neck and you standing so I’m forced to look up at you! I’ve seen all the tricks before. You don’t intimidate me!”
Olivia almost smiled. Tough little thing. “Spend a lot
of time in custody do you?”
Serra leaned her head to the
side as she shot the detective a scorching look. “As if you didn’t know.”
“Okay, look, you seem to be
suffering from some paranoid delusion that we’re out to get you…”
“Paranoid?” Tate tensed.
“Was I paranoid when I got dragged down here the last four times? Was I paranoid when I caught that guy
following me taking all those pictures?
I’m not stupid, detective. I know
Sam’s behind this.”
Olivia blinked. “Are you referring to Samantha or Samuel
Wainscott?”
Serra only snorted.
“You must mean Samuel, since
Samantha’s dead.” The detective
shrugged, going for the shock value, hoping to shake some kind of reaction
loose. She watched the blonde closely,
taking in the range of emotions that flashed across her features. When one finally settled on her face, she
reacted to it just a moment too late.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” Serra jumped out of her chair, lunging at the
brunette so quickly that Elliot wasn’t prepared for it. The look on his face would have been comical
if Olivia had time to think about it.
Instead she found herself staring at a well thrown right hook.
Tate’s fist was small, but
her forward momentum and her anger lent her a good deal of strength. The force of the blow snapped Olivia’s head
backwards where it connected solidly with the glass of the two-way mirror. Seeing stars, she slid down into a crouching
position as Elliot grabbed Serra and tried to hold her still.
The small blonde was enraged
and she yanked her body violently, trying to break free from Elliot’s
grasp. “YOU’RE SICK! YOU’RE A SICK TWISTED BITCH AND SO IS
SHE! I KNEW SHE WAS FUCKED UP BUT I
NEVER THOUGHT SHE WOULD GO THIS FAR!!”
The door opened and two female
officers rushed in. They took control of
the prisoner as Cragen stepped into the room.
“Get her out of here!” He barked. “Throw her in the tombs, let her cool off
before we book her for assaulting an officer!”
Serra continued to rant and
scream as she was dragged away. When she
was gone, Cragen reached down and pulled Olivia to her feet.
The brunette had one hand
wrapped around the back of her head and the other on her jaw.
“Are you okay?” He pealed her hand away and checked the back
of her skull for blood. “You’re going to
have a nasty bump but there’s no laceration.”
“So, did that change your
mind about Tate’s ability to be involved in Samantha’s death?” Elliot snapped. “She’s obviously capable of violence!”
“But she still wouldn’t have
the necessary strength!” Olivia snapped
back, her head pounding.
“You couldn’t tell that from
the condition of your mouth!”
Olivia pulled her hand away
from her jaw to find it stained with blood.
Turning around, she looked at herself in the mirror. Seeing no obvious damage, she pulled down her
lower lip, growling at the cut that ran along the inner edge. “Shit.”
She whispered. It wasn’t bad, but
it was definitely the kind of thing that would drive her crazy until it
healed. Sighing, she turned back to her
partner. “The mirror did more damage
than Tate did.”
“Liv, she’s obviously
unstable…” He began.
Her voice was small,
tired. “You weren’t looking at her
face.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I saw her
eyes. The shock, the disbelief… the rage.”
She glanced at Cragen and caught him
looking at the floor. So he had seen it
too. “She didn’t know…” Olivia sighed heavily, rubbing her temples to
try and stave off the headache that was brewing behind her eyes. “She didn’t know.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Elliot looked across his
desk, watching quietly as Olivia dumped four Tylenol into her palm. Taking a deep breath, she tossed them into
her mouth and chewed.
Grimacing, he cleared his
throat. “Listen, Liv… I just-“
She waved her hand at
him. “Forget it. I didn’t expect her to jump at me any more
than you did. It wasn’t your fault. I tried for shock value and got exactly what
I deserved.”
He frowned, knowing there
was no point in arguing with her. “You
really think she didn’t know?”
“I know she didn’t.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
“Still, she might have information that could help the investigation. But we’re not going to get anything out of
her tonight. I’m going home. You should too.” He stood and walked towards the door,
stopping to drop a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Olivia placed her hand on
top of his for a moment, but didn’t look up until he had left the squad
room. When he was gone, she stared at the
phone on her desk for several long minutes before picking up the receiver and
dialing the number from memory.
“You have reached Alexandra Cabot. I am unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message and I will return your
call.”
“Alex?” She said softly. “If you’re there please pick up.” There was no answer. Sighing, she lowered her head until it rested
on her desk. “Look, I know what you must
be thinking… I know I screwed up, but I can explain. Please, Alex…” Frustrated, she began to beat her forehead lightly
against the desktop.
“Olivia? What are you doing?”
She snapped her head up,
regretting it immediately when she was hit by a wave of dizziness. Grinding her teeth, she smiled tightly at
Cragen’s concerned look. “Nothing!” She dropped the phone back into its cradle
as she stood up. “I was just going to
head home.”
He nodded. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Across town, Alex sat on her
couch, raising a glass of wine to her lips as she listened to Olivia’s message. She heard Cragen in the background and the
panic that crept into the detective’s voice before she hung up the phone. She hit the button and played it again, and
then once more.
Leaning her head back, she
balanced her wine glass on her thigh as she contemplated the ceiling. She felt like a fool. She knew she should just pick up the phone,
give Olivia the chance to explain herself but she couldn’t seem to make herself
do it.
Alex knew the betrayal she
was feeling was blown out of proportion, but she couldn’t change how she felt. It had been a long time since she had allowed
anyone to get under her skin the way that Olivia had. The last time had been almost five years
earlier; it had nearly cost her her career and she had sworn she would never
put herself in that position again.
And she had been so
careful. Trying to keep her distance,
trying to stay professional, trying not to stare too long or spend too much
time around the alluring detective.
But, oh… their arguments…
Alex took a deep breath, her
pulse racing as she remembered the verbal brawls she had engaged in with headstrong
detective. The way she would purposely
bait the brunette just to see the fire burn brighter in those incredible eyes,
causing the deep auburn to lighten until it was almost the color of a newly
minted penny. She admired her tenacity,
her intelligence and her commitment, but what she craved was Olivia’s passion.
For a while the arguments
had been enough. But then, somewhere
along the way, something changed.
Olivia had started smiling
at her.
Small secretive smiles that
haunted her for days, the kind that involved more than just the detective’s
lips.
And the glances… How many
times had she looked up to find the brunette’s eyes sliding away from some
point on her body, her ears slightly pink as she looked anywhere but at
her? And, if she were to be completely
honest, how many times had she caught herself watching Olivia when the older
woman was unaware?
Sighing, Alex took a long
drink. She blamed the warmth in her body
on the alcohol she had consumed, laughing bitterly at the hollowness of the
words in her own mind.
She could rationalize as
much as she wanted to, but in the end her heart would always drag her right
back to the truth.
She wanted Olivia
Benson. Needed her in ways that had nothing to do with court cases, police
badges or handcuffs…
Okay… Maybe the handcuffs…
Alex’s eyebrows rose as her
mind went in a direction she hadn’t expected, her cheeks flushing bright red as
she tipped her glass back and allowed the last of the crimson liquid to slide
over her tongue.
This was exactly the
problem! She could barely finish a
thought about the woman without short circuiting! How would she ever be able to function if
they actually…
No. She shook her head as she stood up, sliding
the empty glass onto the dining room table as she headed for her bedroom. It just can’t happen.
I’ve got too damn much to lose.
* * * * * * * * * *
Saturday 8:00 AM
Olivia looked up, nodding
silently at Elliot as he walked into the bullpen. She finished reading through the information
they had on Serra Tate while he got a cup of coffee and settled himself at desk
across from her.
“How long you been here?”
Olivia shrugged. “About an hour.” She could feel his eyes on her, could sense
the compassion he was directing at her and it wasn’t something she was ready to
deal with. Snapping her head up, she
glared at him. “What?”
“I know you’ve been kicking
yourself about this all night.” He said
gently. “There would never have been good way for her to find out, Liv.”
“I know that! I did my job.
And I would do it again. ” She
leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “But
that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
She flipped the cover closed on Serra’s file, tapping her fingers on top
of it. “We’re missing something here,
Elliot.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been going through all
of the info we have on this girl, including the stuff Wainscott dropped off,
and there are still holes big enough to drive a Lexus through.”
“They bring her up yet?”
Olivia nodded. “She’s in room two. Let me take this one?”
Her partner studied her for
a moment before raising one eyebrow sarcastically. “Sure you’ll be safe?”
Standing, she slid the file
under her arm before flipping up her middle finger as she walked away.
When she stepped into the
interrogation room, Olivia immediately motioned for the guard on duty to
leave. She pulled out a chair and sat
down, quietly contemplating the woman in front of her.
Serra Tate sat with her head
down, her face cradled in her palms; her slim shoulders shaking violently as
wrenching sobs tore through her body. On
the table in front of her was a copy of the New York Times, the same one Cragen
had shown her on Thursday.
“You weren’t lying.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “She really is dead.”
“Yes.” Olivia said gently.
“Why? Who would do that?” The blonde raised her head, staring at the
detective through red-rimmed eyes. “The
paper said… it said…” She put her hand
over her mouth.
Olivia slid a small trash
can towards her, pursing her lips as she watched the young women become
violently ill. “We don’t know. That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Where were you last Tuesday night?”
Serra looked up at her. “You think I could have done that? That I could have hurt Sam like that? I loved
her!”
“Then where were you Serra?”
“I was at home!” She snapped.
“There seems to be some
confusion as to just where that is.”
Olivia replied calmly.
Serra sighed. “I live with Shelley. I have for the last three and a half months.”
“And before that?”
“Before that I lived with
Samantha.”
“What was the nature of your
relationship?”
The blonde’s eyes welled up
with tears. “We were lovers.”
Olivia felt something inside
her chest tighten but her gaze never wavered.
“Was anyone with you Tuesday night through Wednesday morning?”
“Shelley. We were studying together.”
“All night?”
“We’re both in the same
class…” She nodded absently. “Poly-Psy at NYMCC. Mid-Terms are next week.”
“I’d ask if Shelley will
corroborate your alibi, but she wasn’t very pleasant to us the last time we
were there. You mind telling me why?”
“Sammy…she paid for
everything when we were together and she was used to getting her way. I guess that’s what happens when Mommy has
money and Daddy has power.” She ran her
fingers through her hair. “She didn’t
like it when I left. She made
things…hard.”
“So basically you were kept.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed
dangerously. “I’m not a dog detective.”
“Why did you leave?” Olivia
looked at the younger woman intently. “I
mean, you said you loved her.”
Serra sighed. “When I met Sammy… It was like a dream come
true, you know? I’d just moved here from
Wisconsin; I
barely knew anybody. I was living in
some dump assigned by student housing and working part time at Ink. Sammy came in looking for a book; some horror
novel for her father. She was beautiful
and she was classy… and she asked for my number.” Her lower lip trembled as she reached her
hand out and pushed the newspaper further away from her. “I thought… I thought she was amazing. We dated for a few weeks, and then we moved
in together. Her father hated me… hated
us being together, but she didn’t care.
We loved each other and it was perfect… for a little while.”
“What happened?”
“Sammy, she never really got
over her mother’s death. And she was
really angry about what her father had done with that other woman. So when he came down on her about our relationship
she would throw the affair right back in his face. It got really, really ugly between them and the more they fought the blacker her
moods would get.” She swallowed
hard. “She started… asking me to get rough…
with her.”
“Rough?”
Serra nodded; her face
flushing as she ground her teeth together.
“She wanted me to spank her, just a little at first, then more and more
until I was leaving marks. Twist her
nipples more forcefully; bite her until…”
“Until what?”
“…until she bled.” The blonde looked like she was going to be
sick again. ”And when I started saying
no, that was when she brought that… that… woman home.”
Olivia’s eyebrows rose at
the amount of venom in the young woman’s voice.
“What woman?”
“She was older, in her
forties… maybe even her fifties. She had
short dark hair and these really intense eyes.
You know; the kind that can cut right through you?”
“Who was she?”
Serra gave her a sarcastic
look. “Trust me, when you meet the woman
who’s fucking your wife behind your back, you don’t ask her name.”
Olivia nodded. “What else can you tell me about her?”
“I only ran into her at the
apartment the one time, after that Sam was careful to keep us apart. I did see her a few times at the bar
though. I remember she had this
incredible voice, like she should have been a phone sex operator? Oh, and I think she drove a sports car.”
“Why do you say that?”
Serra shrugged. “Because she was always wearing these black
driving gloves. I never once saw her
without them.”
The detective kept her
expression carefully neutral. “You must
have been angry that Sam was screwing around behind your back.”
The blonde sighed, her
shoulders slumping. “I hated it. I hated that she needed her… but a part of me
was relieved too.”
Olivia frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“She wanted me to…do things…
to her.” Serra’s face contorted as
tears streamed down her cheeks again. “I
tried… to be what she wanted, I tried! But every time it just got worse. Eventually I just refused. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t hurt her like that, even if she
begged me. Sammy came to me, told me
that she loved me but that it was something she needed in her life and she was
going to have it, even if it meant bringing someone else into our relationship.
I told her I would try and deal with it, so long as she never brought her into
our home again. I actually managed
to…for a while.”
The detective sat
impassively, but her heart ached for the blonde as she watched her struggle
with what she had to say.
“And then she had those… things… made.” Serra’s voice rose, cracking slightly under
the weight of the emotion it carried. “They
were terrible. Like something out of a
horror novel. They made me sick.” She dragged a hand through her hair. “I told her I was done. That I couldn’t stand by and watch her kill
herself anymore and that I was moving out.”
The blonde pressed her lips together and Olivia could see the pain well
up in her eyes. “She sent me flowers
every day until I left. I didn’t hear
anything from her for a couple of months.
Then those other cops started showing up, the ones she knew through her
father. They harassed me constantly,
prying into my life, telling me I should be grateful that someone like Sammy
wanted me. That’s why Shelley was so rough
on you. She thought you were like them.”
Olivia’s face had gone
hard. “Do you remember their names?”
“What does it matter? Sammy’s dead.”
“They need to be held
accountable for their actions, Serra.”
She shrugged. “Like anything would happen to them.” Her
voice was hard, bitter. “I know
better. When that creepy guy started
following me around and talking to all my friends, I went to the police and
reported him. Nothing happened. They all
but laughed at me.” She shook her head
again. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What else do you want to know?”
Olivia looked her directly
in the eyes. “Tell me about the car.”
Serra blinked then looked
away quickly. “What about it?”
“We had it towed to the impound
yard. What’s a student working part time
at a used book store doing with a brand new Lexus SC 09?”
“Last I checked going into
debt wasn’t a crime.”
“No, but lying to the police
is.” Olivia shot back. “We traced the temporary registration back to
the dealership, Serra. You laid out sixty-four
grand in cash for that car just over a month ago. Where’d you get the money?”
“What does it matter?” The blonde’s jaw was set in a stubborn line.
The detective rolled her
eyes. “When you start throwing around
money like that just weeks before you inherit a fortune, it tends to raise a
lot of questions.”
Serra stared at her
blankly. “What are you talking about?”
Olivia opened the file in
front of her and slid a copy of Samantha’s will across the table. “She left you everything.”
The young woman’s eyes grew
impossibly wide and filled with fresh tears.
“Sammy…” She whispered as she
dropped her head into her hands.
The detective had seen a lot
of fake emotions in her years as a cop and she knew that what she was
witnessing now was the real thing.
Gathering up the papers she closed the file and rested her hands on top
of it. “Look, if you were home with
Shelley then you shouldn’t have any problem giving us a DNA sample right? To exclude you?”
“I don’t have anything to
hide. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Including access to your
financial records?”
The blonde’s head shot
up. “No.
DNA, fingerprints, blood…whatever; you can have a fucking pap smear if
you want it. But I didn’t hurt
Sammy. That’s something I could never
do. So the rest is none of your
business.”
Olivia sighed. “This would go a lot easier if you just
cooperated.” She rubbed her jaw. “Don’t forget we still have you for
assaulting a police officer.”
Serra squared her shoulders
and pulled together what was left of her dignity. “I’m truly sorry about that. I was angry and scared and I took it out on
you. I’ll take responsibility for my
actions, but I won’t let you, or anyone else, dismantle my life ever
again. Take your DNA, but if you want
anything else, then I want a lawyer.”
Olivia nodded. Picking up the file, she turned to go, only
to pause in the doorway. Glancing back
at the young woman, she asked softly, “If you loved her so much, what were you
doing at Velvet, trying to hook up with me?”
Serra looked up at her with
sad, haunted eyes. “You ever love
someone you couldn’t be with, Detective?”
She stared down at her hands as she whispered. “It’s lonelier than never being in love at
all.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“So?”
Olivia raised her eyebrows
at Cragen as she entered the observation room.
“She’s hiding something,
that’s obvious.” She rubbed the side of
her neck. “What I can’t figure out is
what and why.”
“How many reasons could
there be, Olivia?” He snapped.
She looked at him for a
moment before laying her hand gently on his shoulder. “I know this is tearing you up, Captain. Just like I know you need this to be over now.
And I swear to you we are all doing the best we can. I need you to trust me when I say that the
girl in that room didn’t have anything to do with Samantha’s death. But she is hiding something; something that
might be able to shine a light in the right direction. We just need to figure out what it is.”
Cragen nodded, his eyes
conveying a silent apology. “I’ll get a
tech up here to collect her DNA sample.
You go talk to Cabot. We need a look
at Tate’s financials and we’re going to need a subpoena to get it.”
Olivia paled slightly. “Uh… It’s Saturday. Maybe I should just page her assistant. I don’t want to drag her in…” She trailed off when the Captain looked at
her curiously.
“Liv, you know damn well
that no assistant is going to be able to get a judge, any judge anywhere, to
sign off on this. We need her clout and her support to push this through.” He shook his head. “Besides, she’s at her office. I just spoke to her. She called to make sure we shook Tate loose
and I filled her in on the assault charge.
Somehow, she didn’t seem convinced that you hadn’t baited Tate into
taking a shot at you.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. Of
course she would think that.
Cragen ignored the look,
calling back over his shoulder as he walked away, “Get over to her office
pronto. I want that subpoena yesterday.”
Olivia sighed. Yesterday I would have had a better chance
of getting it…
* * * * * * * * * *
Alex looked up curiously
when someone knocked on her office door.
It was Saturday, and while the DA’s office was mostly empty, even the
janitorial staff knew better than to bother her when she worked weekends. “Come in.”
Olivia poked her head
through the door, swallowing when she saw the ADA’s expression change from tolerant
curiosity to obvious anger. “Hey,
Alex. You got a minute?”
“Not really.”
The brunette sighed and
stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. “Alex, if you would just listen to me, let me
explain-“
“Explain what, detective?” The blonde’s voice was formal and completely
devoid of any warmth whatsoever.
“I didn’t mean…” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “I didn’t know that you would be there! How the hell would I know that? I didn’t even know you were gay!”
Alex was caught off guard by
the detective’s admission, but it did little to make her feel better. She took a deep breath. “Well you certainly didn’t stop me from
making a fool of myself did you?”
Olivia’s eyes softened. “You didn’t make a fool of yourself. You never could. Not with me.”
“Oh?” The ADA’s eyebrows rose dangerously. “And what about with your partner? Or Fin and Munch? Were they down there too? How am I ever going to walk back into that
precinct and expect them to take me seriously after they heard me practically
throw myself at you?”
Olivia looked at the floor,
using the tip of her toe to try and rub out a scuff mark she spotted
there. “They didn’t hear anything.”
Alex tilted her head,
sarcasm plain in her features. “And how
is that? Did they all go for coffee and
donuts at the same time?”
“I… I pulled the mic.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “What?”
She whispered.
Olivia sighed, running her
fingers through her still all too curly hair.
“When I saw you… when I knew you were coming over to talk to me… I
pulled the mic. No one heard anything,
Alex.”
For a moment, the ADA’s expression softened
then the steel and anger flooded her features again. “So you violated protocol?”
Olivia rolled her eyes as
she threw her hands in the air. “Jesus,
Alex! I did it to protect you!
What the hell do you want from me?
The blonde straightened her
glasses and stared at her impassively, not giving an inch. “Why are you here?”
The detective frowned. A big part of her job was knowing how to read
people; what they were hiding, and what they really meant by the things they
said and didn’t say. Olivia was very
good at her job. On the surface, Alex
looked calm and collected, almost serene, just as she did before every well
rehearsed summation in front of a judge and jury.
But beneath that was an
undercurrent of something she had never sensed in Alexandra Cabot before.
Panic.
Even in the few moments she
stood quietly observing her, Olivia could see small cracks in the counselor’s
performance; a twitch at the corner of her mouth, the slight elevation of her
heart rate, shown only by the skin that jumped erratically at the pulse point
in her neck. Signs so minute that even
most cops would have missed them.
Jesus… How long have I been watching
her, that I can see all this in barely one glance?
Olivia didn’t think she
wanted to know the answer to that question.
Regardless, the ADA was very
much like a cornered animal at the moment, and she wasn’t about to push her any
further. Dropping her eyes, she let her
finger play against the corner of desk.
“We need a warrant.”
The blonde’s eyebrows
rose. “This should be amusing. For?”
“Serra Tate’s financial
records.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s hiding
something.”
Alex leaned back in her
chair. “And you know this… how?”
Olivia sighed and ran her
fingers through her hair again, not noticing the eyes that followed the path of
her hand. “She gave us everything we
asked for, Alex, even DNA, but she was adamant about not letting us look
through her financials. There is
definitely something there she doesn’t want us to find, something missing from
the information we got from Samuel Wainscott. I can feel it in my gut.”
The blonde pursed her lips.
“So, let me get this straight. You want
me to take your ‘gut’ to a judge and put my ass
on the line to get you a warrant?” She
laughed sardonically. “I could swear we’ve had this conversation
before.”
“I’m sure you know someone
that could push it through.” Olivia commented quietly.
Alex felt her blood pressure
rise as her anger overrode her manners.
“You want me to use the undue influence of a judge who is personally
involved in this case to sign off on a court order that you don’t have the
evidence to support?”
She didn’t blink. “Yes.”
The blonde took off her
glasses, slamming them down on her blotter. “Well, that is typical Benson
behavior, isn’t it?” She came out from
behind the desk, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at the
detective with barely disguised contempt.
“Do whatever you have to, say whatever you have to, break whatever rules
you need to, as long as you get the results you want. Scruples are just things the rest of us have
to worry about, right?”