Chapter One:  The Vic

 

 

So this was how it was all going to end…

 

Olivia pressed her back to the wall as she felt her legs give out.  Slowly, she sank down onto the dirty floor of the warehouse, her hand pressed tight against the excruciating pain in her side.

 

Taking a deep breath, she peeled her fingers away and stared down at the perfect black circle the bullet had made in her shirt.  Dazed, almost fascinated, she watched as the sullen red stain that covered half of her abdomen seemed to pulse around the wound, almost vibrating in intensity as fresh blood leaked from the opening.  Closing her eyes, she repositioned her hand and pressed hard, grimacing as tears slid down her cheeks. 

 

If she could just get it to stop bleeding…

 

She shifted slightly and the agony flared white hot, a small gasp tearing from her lips as she gave in to the reality of the situation. 

 

There was no exit wound; the bullet was still in there.  And every time she moved, she could feel it digging in a little deeper, tearing her up a little bit more.  Nothing would stop the bleeding… not now.

 

She felt her head begin to swim as dark spots filled the edges of her vision.  With the last of her strength, she raised the Glock in her right hand and thumbed the release.

 

The clip fell onto her lap and she swallowed, realizing it was much too light.

 

Empty…

 

She was still looking at it when the footsteps that had been moving towards her stopped.  She raised her head to find herself staring down the barrel of a .45 automatic.

 

There was an obscenely gentle laugh.  “I win.”  A voice whispered.

 

The muscles in her arm gave out, causing her hand to fall to the floor beside her.  The Glock slipped from her fingertips and skittered across the concrete.  “Why, because you’re gonna kill me?”  She shook her head, her words punctuated by short, panting breaths.  “There are fifty badges outside.  One way or the other… you’re going down.”

 

“Maybe.” A finger caressed the trigger lovingly.  “But you won’t be here to see it.”

 

Olivia shrugged, biting back the gasp of pain that would have given away just how much effort the small movement cost her.  “I’ve scraped enough shit off my shoes to know what it looks like.  I won’t be missing anything.”  She watched as a foot was drawn back and pulled her knees towards her, protecting her abdomen with the tops of her thighs.  The three sharp kicks delivered to her shins hurt like a motherfucker, but it was better than the alternative.

 

“Goodbye, Detective…”

 

When she didn’t close her eyes, the perp moved forward slightly, pressing the gun firmly against her temple.

 

She could feel the heat emanating off the barrel, left over from the shot that had impacted with her side, as the acrid scent of gunpowder assaulted her nose.  Still she did not flinch.  Lifting her chin, she stared directly at her attacker, a small smirk on her lips.

 

She watched the hammer click back with a sick sense of fascination as she waited for her life to flash before her eyes. 

 

That was supposed to happen right?

 

But it didn’t.

 

If she was supposed to spend the last few moments of her life reminiscing about the things that were the most important to her, then it was going to be pretty hard to keep denying the only image that came to mind.

 

Intense blue eyes… behind thin black frames…

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

 

7 Days Earlier

Wednesday  07:02 AM

 

Elliot Stabler smiled as he flipped open the box of Krispy Kreme donuts and saw one last cream filled with his name on it.  He knew his partner would be pissed as all hell that he had swiped her breakfast, but she was late so it was her own damn fault.

 

“You snooze, you lose, Liv.”  He bit down on the pastry just as the door swung open and the woman in question stepped inside.

 

Detective Olivia Benson shook the snow out of her short, dark hair before unwinding the scarf from around her neck, throwing both it and her well worn black leather jacket onto a coat rack in the corner.  Cold air seemed to vent off her well toned body in waves as she blew into freezing hands.   Without so much as a grunt of acknowledgement, she made a beeline for the coffee pot, filling her mug with the steaming brew before sighing in relief as she wrapped her fingers around the heated porcelain.

 

Deep, auburn colored eyes studied Elliot over the rim of the coffee mug as she walked towards their desks, which sat back to back in the middle of the squad room.  One eyebrow quirked up dangerously as she noticed the donut in her partners hand.

 

Correction: the half of a donut in his hand.

 

“Unless you want to be walking funny for the rest of the day there had better be another one of those in that box for me.”  She said darkly.

 

“Mmmph.”  Elliot choked on the bite already in his mouth before grinning sheepishly and handing her the uneaten portion.  “I was just… checking to make sure it hadn’t gone stale.  What with you being late and all…”

 

She snatched the donut as she glared at him.  “Two minutes, Elliot.  I was two minutes late!”

 

“Hey, you’re either on time or you aren’t.”  He dropped into his chair, picking up his own mug.   “That donut was lonely, I had no choice but to put it out of its misery and eat it.”

 

Olivia slid behind her desk, taking the time to put her feet up as a slow, wicked smile played across her lips. “I’ll remember that the next time you’re late getting home to Kathy.”

 

Elliot choked on his coffee.  Leaning forward, he coughed violently as his lungs tried to expel the liquid.  When he could breathe again he shot her a nasty look.  “You know, I think maybe I liked it better when I just suspected you were a vagitarian.”

 

The brunette laughed, glancing around the squad room to make sure they were still alone.  She remembered the night her partner had ambushed her at O’Malley’s rather fondly.  He had been in the dog house with Kathy at the time and dropped in to find her nursing a beer and a sore jaw, both courtesy of the woman she had bedded earlier in the evening.  “Hey, you were the one who came to me with your oh-so-serious look and your ‘we’re more than partners, Liv… we’re family’ spiel.” She bit down on the donut, grinning at him as she licked the white cream from her lips.  “You just wouldn’t leave it alone.”

 

Elliot glanced over his shoulder at Cragen’s office before leaning towards her.  “I thought someone had clocked you!  I was ready to beat the hell out of the guy.”

Olivia broke into helpless laughter as she remembered the look on his face when she explained that the bruise had actually come from her bedmates knee… which had collided with her jaw at the most inopportune time.  “Well, at least I saved you from a felonious assault charge.”

 

“The truth shall set you free?” 

 

“Something like that.”  She grinned.

 

“Benson!  Stabler!”

 

The two detectives glanced up to see Cragen standing in the doorway to his office.  One look at his face and their laughter died immediately.

 

“What’s up Cap?”  Olivia took in the sag of his shoulders, the deeply haunted look in his eyes and felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.  In her head the litany of names began.

 

Not a cop… not a friend… not Munch, or Fin or… She felt her blood run cold.  Please not Alex…

 

“We caught an ugly one.”  The captain’s voice was tired, and carefully devoid of any type of inflection.  “This one comes with a price tag.”

 

“What’s the name?”  She held her breath.

 

 “Wainscott.”

 

Olivia’s jaw dropped.  “Judge Wainscott?”  She felt the panic that had been building inside of her dissipate as a hot flush of guilt took its place.  She knew there was a framed photo of her boss and the judge on the wall in his office.  They had been friends for a long time.

 

“Not him.”  Cragen swallowed.  “His daughter, Samantha.”

 

Your goddaughter…  Olivia looked down at the floor,

 

“Where’s the vic?”  Elliot asked quietly.

 

“Waiting on Warner.”  The Captain’s voice hitched slightly.  “Apartment’s on the upper east side.  74^th street.”  He sighed.  “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the seconds are ticking loudly on this one.  You’ve got whatever you need.  Just find this son of a bitch.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *          

 

Olivia stood up, her throat working convulsively as it tried to clear her mouth of the thick saliva coating it.  She wasn’t going to be sick.  That hadn’t happened in years, but this was the closest she had come to it in longer than she could remember.  Standing there in the swank uptown apartment with its pristine walls now striped red, its thick white shag carpet stiffening into rust colored spikes as the heavy copper smell permeated every square inch of the place, she almost wished she would.

 

At least then she’d be able to get the taste out of her mouth.

 

She looked down at Elliot who was still crouched over the vic, one hand on his knee, the other covering his chin as his eyes stared hard.  She could see the muscles jumping in his jaw as his teeth ground together and she watched the red flush of anger that crept up his cheeks to stain the tips of his ears.

 

It had been brutal.

 

Brutal on a level that made even her skin crawl.

 

Samantha Wainscot had been a beautiful woman.  At least the pictures on top of the mantle showed her that way.  What the officer who had responded to the excessive noise complaint had found… was hardly recognizable.

 

The woman had been gutted.  Her abdomen had been laid open from the base of her neck to the juncture between her legs.  Her thighs were a series of crisscrossing cut patterns, most of them deep enough to show the white of bone from between layers of flesh made pale by lack of blood.  Her arms were in the same condition, with the added bonus of her fingertips having been sheered off down to the bone.

 

But the worst thing by far… was her face.

 

Or what was left of it.

 

Someone had used a very sharp knife to strip the skin and flesh away, leaving only a toothless skull and unseeing eyes staring up at a blood soaked ceiling.

 

“Jesus…” Olivia took a deep breath and angled her head upwards, using gravity to fight off the stinging in the back of her eyes.  “How do we even know for sure it’s Samantha?”

 

Elliot rose slowly, his big hands shaking slightly as he pulled on a set of latex gloves.  “I think that’s the point.”  He looked around the room with a trained eye.  The victim was nude, laying face up in the middle of the living room floor.  From the amount of blood present it was obvious the majority of the damage had been done right here.  But there were no clothes or other personal items anywhere near the corpse.

 

“I’ll take the bedroom.”  Olivia pulled on a pair of gloves herself, moving off when her partner did not reply.

 

She walked carefully down the marble tiled hallway, staying close to the wall as she studied the floor, looking for footprints, blood drops, anything.

 

With a growl of frustration, she used the tip of her finger to push open one of the bedroom doors, her eyes going wide at the scene that welcomed her.

 

“Elliot!”

 

Stabler looked up at the sound of his partner’s voice.  He moved down the hallway quickly, knowing if there were any evidence for him to disturb Liv would have already marked it.  “What?”

 

He stepped into the bedroom to find Olivia staring at a large wooden table situated against the far wall.  Each corner of the table was taken up by a series of gears and a spindle that had a length of rope wound about it.  All four of the ropes ended in a thick leather cuff that was stained dark by sweat and god only knew what else. 

 

Next to the rack, there was a leather sling chair suspended from the ceiling.  He moved past it with a look of revulsion on his face as he realized there were several strategically placed holes in the bottom. 

 

“That’s not all of it.”  He turned to see Olivia standing next to what looked like one of those gymnastic horses that little rubber people trained on, and an ornately carved cabinet that reached from the floor to the ceiling.  “Take a look at this.”

 

As he stepped closer, Elliot realized that the fabric of the training horse was covered in hundreds of miniscule red dots.  “What the fuck?”

 

Olivia swallowed.  Reaching out, she placed one gloved finger carefully against the edge of the fabric and pushed.  Above her finger, a small half circle of tiny pin heads popped out of their hiding places, shining wickedly in the bright overhead light.  Pulling her hand away, she opened the cabinet and stepped back to show him the rows of assorted whips, paddles, flogs, and other, more ominous-looking instruments it contained.

 

“Jesus!  What the hell did we walk into here?”  He felt like being sick.

 

“Detectives?”

 

The two partners looked up to see a rather green looking rookie staring at them from the doorway.  “The M.E.’s here.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

“So what do you have so far?”  Elliot watched as Melinda Warner, the Medical Examiner, pulled her thermometer from what was left of the victim’s liver.

 

“One hell of a mess.”  Melinda shook her head sadly.  “Every time I think I’ve seen the worst of what people can do to each other…”  She made a note on her clipboard.  “Caucasian female, five foot seven, approximately one hundred and twenty five pounds, somewhere between thirty and thirty-five years of age.  Body temp is ninety-four point seven.”  She glanced at her watch.  “That puts time of death between approximately four and six AM.  Her forehead crinkled in confusion.  “I thought you said this was an excessive noise call?”

 

Olivia frowned.  “That’s what we were told.”  She looked around the room, finding the first officer on the scene standing off to the side.  “Murdock!”  She waved him over.  “What time did that ENC come in last night?”

 

The patrolman flushed, refusing to meet her eyes.

 

Elliot bristled immediately.  “Hey, my partner’s talking to you.  Answer the question.”

 

“I caught the call around five AM.”  He said quietly.

 

“Five?  Dispatch has your 10-97 at six eighteen.” Olivia stepped closer, her face flushing in anger.  “You want to tell me where you were for the hour and eighteen minutes that the perp used to brutalize this woman?”  The volume of her voice rose until everyone in the room was staring at her.  “Just what the fuck did you think you were doing?”

 

“Olivia.”  Elliot stepped between them, taking his partner by the arm to pull her aside.  “Come on, Liv.  Ease up.  He’s just a kid and EN complaints are a pain in the ass, you know that.  Nine times out of ten they resolve themselves and by the time the car gets to the scene there’s nothing to do-“

 

“But not this time.”  Olivia’s eyes flashed fire.  “This time a woman died, Elliot.”

 

“I know, just… the kid already looks like he’s about to vomit.  Go talk to Warner. I’ll take care of him.”

 

The brunette took a deep breath, nodding slowly as her eyes shot daggers at the young patrolman who refused to look up from his shoes.  She watched as Elliot spoke to him quietly, finally releasing her anger when the rookie left the apartment.  Turning back to the ME, she ran a hand tiredly over her face.  “Signs of rape?”

 

“Well, there’s some tearing, but no fluids present.”  Melinda packaged the swab she was holding.  “But the truth is, there’s too much damage for me tell much beyond the superficial at the moment.  I’ve got all the samples I need right now, the rest is going to have to wait until I get her cleaned up.  Any idea who she is?”

 

“Apartment belongs to Samantha Wainscott.”  Olivia watched as the shock registered on the ME’s face.

 

“We were hoping you could help us with a positive I.D.”  Elliot said as he rejoined them.

 

“Not with the body in this condition,” Melinda shook her head sadly.  “Her killer shaved off her fingertips, knocked out her teeth and took her face-“She stopped short, looking at them speculatively.

 

Olivia shook her head.  “We found blood and small pieces of skin in the main bathroom toilet.  We’re thinking the killer flushed all of it.”

 

“Oh my god…”

 

Olivia stood up quickly as the light; almost lyrical voice sent a series of shivers down her spine. 

 

Alexandra Cabot, the ADA assigned to SVU, stood in the doorway, her incredibly blue eyes wide with shock and fixated on the woman’s body lying before her.  One hand slowly rose to cover her mouth as her creamlike skin became impossibly pale.

 

“Alex!’  Olivia stepped into her line of sight, blocking her view of the corpse.  “What are you doing here?”

 

The woman shook her head, her blonde hair swaying from side to side as she blinked rapidly.  She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

 

“Alex.”  Olivia place her hand on the ADA’s arm, turning her around as she whispered, “You need to breathe, sweetheart.  I’d recommend doing it through your mouth.”

 

Alex nodded absently as she sucked in several long breaths of air. 

 

Olivia watched in admiration as the blonde’s spine seemed to stiffen and her eyes cleared.  Alex was still fairly new to SVU and she had had very little exposure to actual crime scenes, usually getting the somewhat sanitized versions of the story from her detectives or witnesses and crime scene photos that did not, and could not, ever convey the actual horror of seeing the aftermath of this kind of violence with your own eyes.

 

When she had first been assigned to the squad, the rest of the detectives had been unimpressed.  They considered her too young, too inexperienced, too arrogant and far, far too beautiful to ever last long in sex crimes.

 

Olivia had agreed to some extent, especially with the arrogant part.  The two of them had engaged in heated battles for months on end before finding a wary kind of peace with each other that had eventually grown into a strange sort of friendship.

 

And once Alex had earned her respect, Olivia found herself admiring the young woman for a myriad of reasons.  Her tenacity, her dedication to justice, her passion…

 

It was the passion that had been the detectives undoing.  More and more often she found herself sitting in the back row of a courtroom, watching Alex try her cases, even when her presence was not required.  There was something almost sensual about the grace with which the blonde moved about the courtroom.  Olivia had watched the ADA win over even the most hostile of juries with nothing but her voice and her eyes.

 

Those damn sky blue eyes that glanced over the top of her glasses every time she turned around, pinning Olivia to her bench with a look that said “I see you there, watching me.”

 

The first time it had happened Olivia had been shocked.  Her heart rate had soared and the hairs on the back of her neck had stood straight up as her body trembled from the intensity in that light blue gaze. 

 

All from a brief glance over the top of those thin black frames.

 

Soon, however, she became almost a junky for it, sometimes waiting until the trial was nearly over before slipping into her customary spot, just so that the look, when it finally landed on her, would be full of the fire and heat left over from the lawyer’s closing arguments.

 

It was a sad substitute for what she really wanted from the blonde ADA, but with a pedigree like Alex had, she knew it was the best she was going to get.

 

And that would be true even if it wasn’t painfully obvious that the woman was hopelessly straight.

 

Seeing that the blonde had herself back under control, she asked again.  “Alex, what are you doing here?”

 

The ADA looked down briefly at the warm hand still resting on her arm before answering.  “I’ve known Samuel Wainscott for years.”  She slowly unbuttoned her charcoal gray jacket, letting it lay open against the silk blouse beneath.  “When Captain Cragen called I came straight over.”  Stricken blue eyes locked onto deep brown ones.  “Olivia, what the hell happened?”

 

The detective shook her head.  “We don’t know yet.”

 

“Right now we can’t even be sure that’s Samantha Wainscott.”  Elliot said as he joined them, getting out of the way so that the body could be collected for transport. 

 

Alex frowned.  “If it is Samantha, why would her killer go to such an extreme to hide her identity after killing her in her own apartment?”

 

“I don’t know.”  Olivia’s eyebrows rose.  “But all things considered, I think I know where we need to start.”

 

Alex noticed the emphasis on the word ‘we’ and looked at her curiously.

 

“No fingerprints, no dental records, no facial recognition software…”  Olivia’s voice trailed off as understanding registered on the blondes face.

 

“Wait, hold on!”  Alex held up her hand as her eyes narrowed.  “You want me to compel DNA… from a Judge?”

 

“Compel is such an ugly word, Alex.”  The detective’s lips twitched.  “I just think the request would sound better coming from a family friend, rather than a cop.  You know how it is.  When we ask people automatically think we’re accusing them of something.  We can try collecting samples from here, but all that will prove is that they came from her.  For a definitive ID we’re going to need a familial match.”

 

All three of them moved to the side, standing quietly as the gurney with the body on it was wheeled out of the apartment.  Alex’s eyes followed it down the hall until it was out of sight.  “All right.”  She nodded.  “But he’s going to have questions, so I need everything you have right now.”

 

Elliot flipped open his pad.  “A 4-15 was phoned in to the station house around five AM.  The first officer on the scene found the door ajar.  There was no sign of forced entry and no missing property that we have been able to determine.  All of the blood and trauma seems to be localized here in the living room, although there is evidence of sexual activity in both bedrooms.”

 

“What kind of evidence?”

 

Elliot’s jaw snapped shut and he looked at Olivia expectantly.

 

“Men.”  She whispered under her breath before turning to face the ADA.  “One of the bedrooms is set up like the Maquis de Sade’s weekend getaway, Alex. Complete with a functioning rack and a seriously twisted fetish bench.  Not to mention an entire cabinet filled with every kind of paddle or whip you could ever want.”  The blonde’s eyebrow quirked up and Olivia flushed, stammering quickly, “Well… not that you would want…  I didn’t…  I just meant that…”

 

A small smile curled the corners of Alex’s lips, chasing away a little of the lost look she had been wearing since she arrived.  “It’s all right, Liv.”

 

Liv?

 

That was new.

 

Olivia stared at the blonde, feeling her pulse quicken as she became so absorbed in the pale blue of her eyes that she completely missed the woman’s next question.

 

“Olivia?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

The eyebrow went up again as Alex shot Elliot a quick look of concern.  “What was in the other bedroom?”

 

“Huh? Oh… a bed.”  The older woman cleared her throat as she flipped through her notepad, trying to ride out the flush that she knew was coloring her cheeks.  “The sheets showed signs of recent sexual activity, although the biologicals were kind of weak under the black light.  The crime lab already collected them.  The vic’s clothes were found on the dresser, folded neatly.”

 

“That’s everything?”

 

“So far.”  Elliot nodded.  “No weapon, no motive, no condom, no fluids… no suspects.”

 

Alex frowned.  “Well do me a favor would you detectives?  Find me at least one of the above.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two: Family Ties

           

 

Captain Cragen remained quiet, watching as the shoulders of the man across from him shook uncontrollably.  Alex Cabot sat to his right, her eyes firmly glued to the blotter on his desktop as they both waited for the normally stoic judge to get himself under control.

 

“Sam.”  Cragen swallowed.  “I know how hard a time you’re having with this, and trust me when I say I’m right there with you.  You know I loved Sammy like she was my own.  But right now, we need your help.”

 

Samuel Wainscott raised his head, his raw, red-rimmed eyes moving back and forth between the two people sitting in the office with him.  Nodding, he took a deep breath.  “I’ll try.”  He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it across his face.  “What happened to my little girl, Don?”

 

Alex cleared her throat softly as she leaned forward.  “Right now, the best information we have is that a female victim was found D.O.A. in your daughter’s apartment.”  She shifted uncomfortably.  “Because of… extenuating circumstances, we are in need of your help to provide a positive I.D.”

 

The judge’s body stilled.  “Are you saying there’s a chance…?”

 

The ADA glanced at Cragen.

 

“Sam,” The captain said gently.  “The woman we found at the apartment, she matches Sammy’s age, weight, height, and hair color. “  He shook his head sadly.  “I don’t want to give you any false hope.”

 

Wainscott nodded, his jaw tightening.  “I understand.  Have the M.E. prepare the body and I’ll head down for the viewing.”

 

“That’s not going to help.”

 

Wainscott stared at him blankly.  “I don’t understand?”

 

“The damage is… too severe, Samuel.”  Alex reached over and laid her hand on his arm.  “We need a DNA sample from you.”

 

For a moment, Wainscott’s eyes flashed with anger, “You think I hurt my baby!”  Then they dulled again as he dropped his head into his hands.  “I could never…” he sobbed.  “She was all I had left of her mother; of everything we planned…  She shared my name, my life.  Sammy was everything to me, Don.  You know that.”

 

“I know, Sam.” The captain came around the desk and put a hand on his friends shoulder.  “We’re going to get this guy, I promise you that.  But the first step is finding out for sure that it’s Sammy.”

 

The judge nodded.

 

“Come on.  I’ll take you down to the crime lab.”

 

Alex followed them through the doorway, watching as they left the bullpen with Cragen half supporting the man at his side. Her heart heavy, she glanced around. 

 

Through the glass to her right, she saw Elliot, Fin and Munch laying out items from the evidence boxes on the table in the meeting room. It was mostly paperwork, as anything with possible forensic evidence had been taken to the lab. 

 

She wondered where Olivia was and realized that she had been hoping to run into the brunette.  The detective’s quiet strength was something she could use at the moment.

 

When Alex had first met Olivia Benson, her assessment of the older woman had been none too kind.  In fact, the descriptions she provided for her fellow officials whenever she was asked her opinion of the brash detective had been a source of constant amusement around the courthouse.

 

Wounded bear, rogue wolf, rabid bulldog; they were all terms she had used to describe the older woman at one point or another during the tumultuous period that had been their first few months of working together.

 

The latter of which inevitably led to another, less politically correct epithet to be muttered by someone else within earshot, turning the ADA’a face a ruddy pink and causing her to frown in confusion as a fierce protectiveness swept through her.

 

It wasn’t that the word ‘dyke’ bothered her so much; like most slurs the insult had little to do with the meaning of the word itself and everything to do with how it was said and by whom. 

 

What bothered her was that whoever was making the snide comment usually seemed to care very little about whether it was true or who Olivia actually was; why she did the things she did.  They wanted a box to put her in and a label to slap across her forehead.

 

Which, in Alex’s opinion, was the worst kind of small-minded there was.

 

Even through their rough inaugural period, Alex had begun to recognize the subtle complexities that made up Olivia Benson.  The huge, fragile heart she hid directly behind her gold shield, the honest, sincere compassion she felt for all the victims she came in contact with and the absolute ferocity she brought to every single thing she did.

 

Alex had seen her throw her slim body directly at a towering psychopath, with little regard for her own personal safety, and manage to subdue him just as quickly as a male officer could have.  Within the span of the same evening, she had seen her cradle a broken and battered child within her arms, talking to her softly until the little girl’s tears gradually stopped and Alex thought that her own might start. 

 

And then there was her smile. 

 

Nothing had prepared Alex for the first time Olivia had genuinely smiled at her.  It was right after she and Elliot had collared a serial pedophile, a particularly nasty piece of work that held his victims captive for a month while he systematically broke their spirit and tortured their bodies.  They had nabbed him just minutes after he had snatched his latest child and, for the first time in longer than any of them could remember, they had been able to return a victim to their family whole and unscathed.

 

Olivia had been euphoric, her happiness radiating out of every pore.  When Alex walked into the squad room to witness the interrogation, the brunette had slid an arm around her waist and hugged their hips together, laughing as she turned a megawatt grin on the ADA that changed her whole face. In the span of an instant, Olivia had gone from being a cynical sex crimes detective, to a vibrantly alive, unbelievably beautiful woman.

 

Alex had felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked from the bull pen as the older woman’s beauty shook her to her core.

 

And the playfully whispered words “Hey beautiful, come here often?”  That Olivia snickered into her ear hadn’t hurt either.

 

No, there was no label that could be found that would fit Detective Olivia Benson.  With her deep auburn eyes that seemed to look right through you, and those hands… those gentle hands that could still a victim’s fears… or set her body to shaking just by accidentally brushing against her…

 

“Alex?”  The blonde felt a slight tug on her arm and started violently as she looked down into amused brown eyes.  “You ok?”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Olivia raised one eyebrow.  “Are you ok?  You look a little… flushed.”

 

She felt herself falling into the detectives soft brown eyes and shook her head slightly to clear it.

 

Misreading the response, Olivia stepped closer as she slid her hand up the ADA’s arm.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

You mean besides the fact that my knees go weak every time you look at me?  “I think this one is just hitting a little too close to home.”  She tried to ignore the feel of Olivia’s hand as it gently rubbed her bicep.

 

“I can understand that.  It’s bad enough when the vic is a stranger; when it’s someone you know, everything gets amplified. ”

 

Alex sighed.  “And yet the world keeps turning.”  She pulled a file out of her briefcase.  “We were supposed to go over your testimony for the Neal case today but something tells me your dance card is going to be full.”

 

“You know I’ll always make room for you.”

 

There was something in the brunette’s voice that filled Alex with warmth.  It started in her abdomen and spread outwards until she could feel it in her fingertips.  She tried to keep her gaze focused on the file she was holding, but instead found herself staring into deep brown eyes filled with concern and… something else. 

 

Something that took her breath away and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

 

“So,” She swallowed.  “When do you think you’ll have time for me?”

 

Olivia pursed her lips as she glanced past Alex to the conference room.  “Well, we have all the documents from the apartment to go through, plus Samantha’s lawyers are sending over her financials this afternoon. I probably won’t be done here until around seven.  How about a late dinner?”

 

 “I have a long day ahead of me too.  Dinner is going to sound like nirvana right around then.”

 

The detective grinned.  “Will helping an ADA experience nirvana increase my chances of getting warrants in the future?”

 

Alex’s return smile was dazzling.  “Ask me again after I see where you’re taking me for dinner, detective.”

 

Olivia laughed softly as the blonde walked away.  Turning, she watched the gentle sway of the woman’s hips until she disappeared out the door. 

 

“Candy’s bad for you, you know.”

 

Olivia sighed, squaring her shoulders before she faced her partner.  “Last I heard looking was sugar free.”

 

“Maybe,” Elliot smirked.  “But you keep leaving your tongue hanging out like that and you’ll end up with frostbite.”

 

“She isn’t that bad, Elliot!  And she really does care.”

 

“Maybe about her win/loss ratio.”

 

Olivia held up her hand.  She wasn’t going to get into an argument with her partner over their ADA.  The last thing she needed was Elliot wondering why she was so quick to jump to the blonde’s defense.   “Enough.  We have work to do.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

           

Four hours later, Olivia leaned back in her chair, allowing her head to hang over the backrest as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. “How many credit cards did this woman have?”

 

Fin scowled at her over his stack of papers.  “Twenty-seven; all platinum cards, all with limits higher than my annual income… before taxes.”

 

“Have you found anything at all?”

 

“I’ve got something.”  Munch held up the statement he had been studying.  “According to Ms. Wainscott’s Visa card our society girl shopped with ‘pride’.”

 

Olivia’s eyes widened when he flipped the paper over to show her the purple lambda adorning one corner.  “Samantha Wainscott was gay?”

 

“Apparently so, and that’s not all.”  The thin man’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead.  “It looks like our victim used this card specifically for her ‘special’ purchases.  I have three major charges to Pandora’s Box; one for seven thousand, another for four thousand and the third for two thousand and some change.”

 

Elliot’s forehead furrowed in confusion.  “Pandora’s Box?”

 

“That’s that swanky perv place over on Eighteenth and Collins.”  Fin’s voice was laced with disgust.

 

“Do I detect a note of intolerance in your voice, detective?”  Munch looked at his partner pointedly.  “I would think you of all people would buy into the live and let live philosophy.”

 

“Not when the lettin’ live leaves people looking like Samantha Wainscott.”

 

“You don’t know that what happened to her had anything to do with her sexual proclivities.”

 

“I’d say it was probably a safe bet.”  Fin’s eyes narrowed.  “What are you some kind of closet freak?”

 

Munch smiled.  “Why are you looking for a date tonight?”

 

“All right that’s enough.”  They all looked up to see Cragen standing in the doorway.  “Whatever your personal opinions are about this case, you will keep them to yourself.  I shouldn’t have to remind you that a good man lost his daughter, and I lost someone very dear to me.”

 

Fin looked down at the table but said nothing.

 

“How is Judge Wainscott?”  Olivia asked gently, breaking the tension in the room.

 

Captain Cragen shook his head sadly.  “I took him down to the lab for the cheek swab.  When I got him home, his personal physician was there to sedate him.  He isn’t going to be any good to us until tomorrow at the earliest.”  He ran his hand over his lower face.  “I have a meeting I have to get to.  Call my cell when you have some answers.”

 

They worked in silence for another three hours before Elliot stood and stretched.  “I gotta get going or Kathy’s gonna change the locks.”

 

“Hang on!”  Olivia jumped up, another credit card statement in her hand.  “How long ago were those purchases made at the sex shop, Munch?”

 

“Uhm…”  He flipped through the short stack of questionable items he had found.  “Four months ago?”

 

“Look at this.” She handed him the bill she was holding.  “According to this statement, Samantha Wainscott charged over 22 different flower deliveries to her platinum MasterCard in the two weeks following those purchases.”  She raised her eyebrows.  “Someone was in the doghouse.”

 

“And probably wearing a collar too.”  Fin mumbled.  The others ignored him.

 

“We need to find out who the flowers were going to.”  Elliot looked at his watch.  “But it’s after seven; place has got to be closed.”

 

“The lab should have DNA information for us by the morning.  Elliot and I’ll handle that and the notification.  Fin, you and Munch take the florist and the toy shop…”  Her eyes widened.  “What time did you say it was?”

 

Elliot blinked at the rapid topic change.  “It’s a quarter past seven.”

 

“Shit!”

 

The rest of the detectives from the 1-6 watched in confusion as Olivia left the precinct at a dead run, slowing only long enough to grab her coat and scarf before barreling out the door.

 

“Now that’s someone with a hot date.”  Fin smiled.

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

Alex looked up over her glasses to see Olivia standing in the open doorway.  The small amount of irritation she had been feeling evaporated immediately as she took in the detectives heaving chest and the light sheen of sweat that covered her face and neck even though the temperature outside was close to freezing. “Did you run all the way here?”

 

The brunette shrugged, making Alex’s lips curl into a grin. 

 

God this woman is adorable.

 

“So what happened?  Lead in the case?”  She asked hopefully.

 

“I don’t know that I’d call it a lead, but we’ve definitely found a few avenues to pursue.  We’re also waiting on the rest of Samantha’s financials.  Her probate lawyer was in court all day upstate.  He finally contacted us a few hours ago and agreed to bring in her estate paperwork tomorrow.”  She grabbed Alex’s coat off the rack behind her and held it open.  “Now come on.  I’m starving.”

 

With a small smile, the blonde shoved the paperwork she had been reading into her briefcase and then let the detective help her into her coat.  She turned around with a smile on her face that froze when she realized that Olivia had not stepped back.  Her heart stopped when the brunette reached out…

 

…only to thud painfully as Olivia took the briefcase from her before stepping aside to let her pass through the door.

 

Turning her head to hide the flush that colored her cheeks, she managed to say casually, “So where are we going?”

 

Olivia smiled.  “You’ll see.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Alex grinned as they walked through the door and into the restaurant, her eyes immediately drawn to the eclectic collections of artwork adorning the walls.  Next to every piece was a small slip of paper with the artists name and the price they were asking for it. 

 

While the place seemed to pull its flavor from many different venues, the overall binding theme seemed to be ‘struggling artist’.  From the hand painted ‘Specials Board’ to the numerous painting stations left open for patron use, the place was a living tribute to artistic vision and creativity.

 

They were led to a table near the window and Olivia ordered them a nice bottle of merlot to go with the fresh baked French bread, balsamic vinegar and oil dip, and Greek olives that the waitress brought over for them to snack on while they perused the menu.

 

“So what do you think?”  Olivia asked shyly.

 

“I love it!”  Alex grinned from ear to ear.  “I wanted to be an artist you know.”

 

“You?” 

 

She laughed at how wide the detective’s eyes got.  “Yes me.  Unfortunately there is no such thing as a beatnik Cabot.”

 

“Were you any good?”

 

The blonde smirked.  “Let’s just say that the art world survived.”  Her eyes sparkled as she took a sip of her merlot. “It seems my talents ran to other areas.”

 

Olivia bit her lip and kept her mouth shut. 

 

“So what’s good here?”  Alex slipped on her glasses as she looked over the menu.

 

The detective opened her own menu, using it to distract herself from the small tip of pink tongue that was visible between the lawyer’s lips.  Jesus.   “Just about everything.  Do you like spicy?”

 

The blonde glanced up, one pale eyebrow rising slightly; her lips curved into an amused smile as she nodded.

 

“Uh…”  Olivia swallowed and quickly looked back down at her menu.  Maybe dinner hadn’t been such a good idea.  It was one thing to lust after the ADA from a distance, but sitting across from her in an intimate setting was putting all kinds of crazy ideas in her head.  Even if the knowledge of blonde’s sexual orientation kept her from making a total fool of herself it didn’t stop her body from reacting to her proximity.

 

Apparently her hormones had a strict anti-discrimination policy.

 

“The wasabi-crusted chicken breast with Asian rice pilaf is really good, if you don’t mind your tongue burning for an hour afterwards.”

 

“I think my tongue can handle it.”  Alex snickered.  “But, you’re going to have to buy me a raspberry margarita to help cool off some of the heat.”

 

Olivia felt her mouth go dry.  “Deal.”  She croaked.

 

An hour later she desperately regretted making that deal as she watched Alex circle the rim of her margarita class with an index finger, scraping the thick sugar onto her perfectly manicured nail before slipping it into her mouth.

 

“Wow,” The ADA leaned back in her chair with a smile as she panted softly. “You weren’t kidding.”  She waved her hand in front of her mouth.

 

Olivia grinned and downed the rest of her Foster’s.  “Do you want another margarita?”

 

“Are you trying to get me drunk, detective?”

 

“Are you saying two is all it would take, counselor?”

 

“I’m not that far gone from my college days, Liv.  Or were you just hoping I’d be a cheap date?”

 

The brunette grinned.  “I think far too highly of you to ever use a word like ‘cheap’.”

 

Alex’s eyes sparkled.  “I had no idea.”

 

Olivia bit back her initial response.  Regardless of the realities of the situation, flirting with Alex felt a little too good.  Instead she settled back into her work persona, a cue the perceptive ADA picked up on quickly.  “So tell me about the Wainscott’s.” 

 

The blonde stiffened slightly.  “What do you want to know?”

 

“Alex…”

 

She sighed.  “Old money, old family, strong connections to the legal and social communities; Samuel chairs numerous philanthropic and charitable organizations.  They’ve always been good people.”

 

“Were there other children?”

 

“No, Samantha was an only child.”

 

Olivia looked down at the table.  “Was it common knowledge that she was gay?”

 

Alex frowned.  “There were rumors; they became more frequent in the last few years.”

 

“That couldn’t have sat well with her parents societal expectations.”

 

“I wouldn’t know.”  The ADA rubbed her forehead absently.  “What I do know is that Samuel doted on her.  She was a daddy’s girl.”

 

Olivia noticed the slight blush that crept into the other woman’s cheeks and tried hard not to smile.  “Like you?”  Alex glanced at her sharply and Olivia cleared her throat.  “So, Samantha was the last Wainscott heir?”  The blonde stared down into her empty margarita glass, causing the detectives eyes to narrow.  “What are you not telling me?”

 

The ADA was silent for a moment then she sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.  “The old family was on the Wainscott side.  The money… That was Julia’s.”

 

“Wainscott’s wife?”

 

“Her maiden name was Preston.”

 

Olivia’s brow furrowed for a moment and then her eyes widened.  “Preston Orchards?”  At Alex’s nod she whistled slightly.  “So the money was Mommy’s.  What else?”

 

“About a year before Julia got sick there was an… indiscretion on Samuel’s part.”

 

“An indiscretion?”  The detective snorted.  “That’s ‘rich’ for affair, right?”

 

Alex nodded again.  “Julia forgave, but she never forgot.  When she found out that the cancer had metastasized and that she was dying, she changed her will.  Samuel got the house and ten percent.  Samantha got everything else.”

 

Olivia leaned forward, her jaw tightening.  “So you’re telling me that Samuel is the heir apparent?”  She flushed angrily. “Damn it, Alex!  You can’t tell me you didn’t think that was relevant!”

 

The ADA winced at her tone.  “Liv, we don’t even know for sure that it’s Samantha.  I didn’t see the point in airing out a Judge’s dirty laundry until we knew for sure.”

 

“And once we got confirmation?”

 

Alex looked her directly in the eyes, her cobalt blue gaze never wavering.  “I would have told you.”

 

For a few moments, the feeling of betrayal was overwhelming and Olivia was stunned by her level of disappointment; especially considering that Alex had a valid point.  If the victim wasn’t Sammy, then all of this information was superfluous.  No, if she was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit that she was hurt because Alex hadn’t trusted her.

 

“Liv.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Alex reached over and covered Olivia’s hand with her own.  “I would have told you.”

 

Olivia swallowed, her pulse racing wildly as the blonde’s smooth, warm fingers squeezed hers gently.  Alex’s voice was husky, personal; full of regret and honest affection.  Coughing slightly, she finally tore her eyes away and nodded.  “I believe you, just… no more omissions okay?”

 

The blonde smiled brightly for a moment before her face took on an expression of exaggerated gravity.  She used her free hand to draw an X across her chest with her index finger, her lips threatening to curve up at the edges.

 

Olivia laughed before she could stop herself.  It was a damn good thing Alex Cabot was straight.  With a repertoire like that, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

 

They spent the next hour and a half going over the detective’s testimony for the upcoming Neal case, and then they shared a cab back to Alex’s apartment.  Olivia flashed her badge at the driver as the blonde climbed out.  “Wait.”  She ordered.  The cabbie muttered under his breath but he nodded. 

 

She caught up to Alex at the entrance to her building, smiling at the eyebrow the woman raised in surprise.  “I thought I’d see you to your door.”

 

The ADA’s ears pinked adorably but she nodded and they spent the elevator ride up to the penthouse in companionable silence.  Once they arrived, she slid her key into the lock and opened the door before turning back to the brunette.  She was chewing on her bottom lip slightly.  “Did you want to come in?  For coffee?”

 

Olivia blinked.  Her mouth opened quickly and she had to bite back the word ‘yes’ as it tried to roll off her tongue.  While spending more time with the beautiful woman was something she desperately wanted, the possibility, and sheer magnitude, of the mistakes she might make washed over her like a splash of cold water.  “I’d love to… but the cab’s waiting.”

 

It was a lame excuse and they both knew it.

 

But Alex just smiled and nodded slightly.  Leaning forward, she hugged the detective, breathing her scent in quickly.   “I had a great time, Liv.”  She whispered.  When she pulled back she winked and added, “Mostly.”

 

Olivia laughed and watched her go inside, shutting the door softly behind her.   She stood for several long moments, alone in the hallway, before heading back to the waiting cab.

 

 

Chapter Three – Dead Ends

 

Thursday 07:00 AM

 

Elliot grabbed his partner’s arm as she walked into the squad room, dragging her back out through the doors before she even had time to toss her jacket onto the coat rack.

 

“Hey!”  She barked.  “What’s going on?”

 

“Warner called.  She’s got autopsy results for us. We need to get down to her office.”

 

“And you couldn’t wait for me to grab a cup of coffee?”  She groused.

 

“Nope.”  He grinned, far too widely for her taste.  “You know, some people actually show up for work a little bit early.”

 

“I had a late night.”  She regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth.

 

“Ohhh!”  Her partner’s eyebrows rose suggestively as they climbed into the car.  “A late night? Is that the politically correct lesbo term for getting laid?”

 

Olivia tossed her jacket into the back seat as she rolled her eyes.  “It amazes me that you can use the words ‘politically correct’ and ‘lesbo’ in the same sentence.  If I didn’t love you so much I’d throw you to Huang for sensitivity training.”

 

Elliot’s face registered the horror he felt, making her laugh out loud. “So?  Who is she?”

 

“What?  Oh, no.  It wasn’t like that.  I had a working dinner with Alex.”

 

“Meaning… you were ‘working’ it?”

 

“El!”  She slapped him on the arm as he laughed.  “We went over my testimony for the Neal case and she filled me in on some interesting aspects of the Wainscott family dynamic.”  She told him what the ADA had shared with her, watching his face change as the same suspicions she had filled his head.

 

“That’s definitely something to pursue.”  Elliot mumbled thoughtfully.  He guided the car off the expressway, navigating the busy streets while glancing at his partner out of the corner of his eye.

 

Olivia ignored it for several minutes before finally growling at him.  “What??”

 

“Cabot ‘filled you in’ huh?”  He snickered. 

 

She shook her head as she stuck out her jaw.  “You are such an ass!  Cabot is our ADA.  I respect her, and I value her friendship.  That’s all!  I don’t know why you continually make these asinine remarks-“

 

She's a child
Young and willing
In a world that's unforgiving
That in time
Takes all the living from your soul

 

“What the hell is that?”  Elliot looked at her curiously.

I stand in the night with a silver sword
Killing her demons beating them off her door
Sleep little baby don't you cry
Daddy's got a worn out lullaby
And I'd live forever dark and damned
If I could see you spend one minute, girl... in Wonderland

 

Olivia’s eyes flew open as her cheeks flushed bright red.  The music was coming from her cell phone, which she had forgotten to put on vibrate.  It was in the pocket of her jacket.

 

The jacket she had tossed in the back.

 

She quickly unbuckled her seat belt and spun around, stretching into the space between them to grab the leather jacket by its collar.  As she pulled it forward, the phone shook loose and fell behind her seat.

 

“God dammit!”  She swore under her breath as she stretched her fingers to grab it, flipping it open to stop the ring tone from continuing.  As she twisted back around, she noticed Elliot smirking at her and frowned.  “What?”

 

“Olivia?”

 

The sound from the small speaker was low and tinny but there was no mistaking that voice.

 

“Hey!”  The detective pressed the phone to her ear and stared out the window, willing the redness in her cheeks to pass.  “What’s up?  Huh?  No, I’m fine.  No…  I just… couldn’t find my cell.”  Elliot snickered beside her and she slugged him on the arm.  He watched her face ease into a shy grin.  “Yeah…I did too…  I’d like that, but you’re buying the margaritas next time… Yeah?  Well I’m not cheap either, counselor.”  Olivia suddenly realized she was smiling and stopped immediately.  “We’re on our way to see Warner, how about I call you afterwards?  Okay.  Yeah, okay.  Bye.”  She snapped the phone shut and studied it silently for a few moments until her partner’s covert glances finally got to her.  “WHAT???”

 

“Silver sword huh?”  He grinned at her.  “Does that come with some sort of leather harness?”

 

Her eyes narrowed but before she could respond her cell phone rang again.  She flipped it open with an exasperated sigh.  “Benson.  Hey Captain, what’s up?”  She listened for a moment.  “All right.  We’re on our way to the M.E.’s office but we can stop by there afterwards. Munch and Fin?”  She glanced at Elliot, who made an obscene gesture with his hand.  “They’re working the sex shop.  Yeah, ok.  Thanks.”  She closed her cell phone. “Biologicals are back. We need to hit the lab after we talk to Warner.”

 

Elliot nodded.  “So… Cragen doesn’t have his own ring tone?  He’ll be crushed.”

 

“Oh my god, will you just shut up and drive!”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

Melinda Warner looked up as the two detectives pushed through the swinging doors and entered the morgue.  She registered the slight wince that traveled across Olivia’s features and the tightening of Elliot’s jaw as they looked down at the woman on the table in front of her. 

 

The body had been thoroughly cleaned; the blood and gore stripped away leaving behind a clear picture of the damage that had been done to her flesh; damage that didn’t lose any of its brutality with the lack of blood.

 

“Liv, Elliot.”  She nodded to them both.  “Meet Samantha Wainscott.”

 

Stabler exhaled slowly.  “So we got a positive?”

 

Warner nodded.  “Familial was a match to Judge Wainscott.  There’s no doubt this is Samantha.”

 

“What else do you have?”

 

Her eyebrows knitted together.  “A lot of ‘interesting’ but not a lot of answers.” 

 

Olivia frowned.  “What do you mean?”

 

“The damage to the face and mouth was all done post-mortem, as was the evisceration.”

 

“What was the cause of death then?”

 

“The crosshatch cutting.  See this incision right here?”  She pointed to an ugly cut near the victim’s groin.  “It nicked the femoral artery.  I don’t think that was the perp’s intention, as it wasn’t very deep.  But it was enough to cause her to bleed out, probably quicker than he wanted her to.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Melinda shrugged slightly. “This whole thing looks like ritualistic tendencies.  The crosshatch cutting is intended to inflict pain and terror, not to kill.  Your guy just got a little carried away.  Where these cuts are meticulous and precise, this…” She waved her hand over the victim’s midsection.  “This is the work of someone that was out of control.”

 

Olivia took a breath.  “You think there could be two perps?”

 

Warner shook her head.  “I don’t think so.  The cuts were all made by the same blade and the amount of forced applied suggests a single attacker.  But something made your boy mad.  Really mad.”

 

Elliot ground his teeth together.  “What about the rape?”

 

“That’s the other thing,” The M.E. frowned.  “I don’t think there was a rape, at least not the kind you would investigate.”

 

Olivia blinked.  “Mind explaining that?”

 

“The tearing I noticed at the scene was minor.  After I got her cleaned up, I found a substance coating the damaged tissue.”  She picked up a small tube.  “It’s an antibacterial salve mixed with an analgesic ointment.”

 

The brunette’s jaw dropped slightly.  “You’re saying someone treated her?”

“In a basic first aid sense, yes, and not for the first time; there were other, partially healed tears as well as several completely healed over scars.  I also found a small amount of non-spermicidal lubricant inside her vaginal tract.  It matches the condoms that were found in her bedroom drawer… right along side a rather large artificial phallus.  Then there’s this,”  She pulled back the sheet that had been covering the dead woman’s lower extremities and both the detectives sucked in  a breath at the sight of hundreds of tiny red marks that were now visible across her abdomen and thighs. 

 

“Jesus.”  Elliot looked away.

 

Melinda led them over to a nearby computer.  “I entered the measurements from the fetish bench you found in the victim’s apartment. The pattern of markings on her body suggests she was bent forward over the bench and penetrated from behind.  The different spacing between the patterns as well as the general thickening of her skin, indicate long term involvement in sexual sadism.”  She walked back to the body and covered it.  “I’ve concluded that the sexual activity that took place the night the victim died had to have occurred at least several hours before her actual death.”

 

“So the ‘rape’ and the murder….”  Olivia let the question hang.

 

“Mutually exclusive.”  Warner finished for her.  “If I had to give an opinion based on the cross cutting alone?  I would say you have a serial offender.”  She picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Stabler, who glanced at it briefly before passing it to his partner as the M.E. continued.  “Unfortunately I got no hits when I checked the database for a similar M.O.”

 

“He could be a first timer.”  Elliot shrugged.

 

The M.E. shook her head.  “I just don’t buy it.  Like I said, the cuts were meticulous.  He just pushed too hard in the wrong place.”

 

Olivia’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced at Elliot.  “Like maybe someone that’s been out of the game for a while and got a little over-excited to play again?”

 

“I’d say that’s closer to the mark.  But it would have to be someone that’s never had a body surface.  A trade like this, I would remember.”

 

Elliot frowned.  “What do you know about the weapon?”

 

Melinda sighed.  “You’re looking for a serrated knife.  The cuts to the torso indicate a blade at least five inches long, possibly longer.”  She motioned them closer and used her pinky to point at the ends of several of the cross-cuts.  “You see the jagged tear marks at the beginning of each down stroke?  That’s indicative of some kind of damage at the tip of the knife; a burr or a chip.  If the knife was intact, the initial puncture would be fat but smooth. The same kind of damage can be found at the initial entry points on her chest and face as well.”

 

“So one perp and one knife?”  Olivia asked bluntly.

 

“That would be my opinion.”  She handed the detective a thick envelope.  When Olivia raised her eyebrow she explained.  “Photos for your psych.  Maybe he can give you a little more insight.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *          

 

Thursday 09:58 AM

 

Olivia and Elliot were silent as they rode the elevator up to Crime Lab on the third floor, each of them absorbing the information they had received from the Medical Examiner.  Nothing about this case was adding up and every new discovery just seemed to create more questions.

 

As they entered the lab Ryan O'Halloran nodded at them in greeting.  “Detectives.”

 

“Hey Ry.”  Olivia smiled at the forensics tech.  “Whatcha got for us?”

 

“I got the results back from the fluids on the bed sheets.”  He pulled a manila folder from behind him and handed it to her.  “Two different sets of DNA.  One is a match to your vic.  The other is an unknown female.”

 

Elliot glanced at his partner, the unspoken communication between them clear.  Confirmation on Samantha’s sexual orientation, now if they could just find the link that made it relevant to their case.  “Is that it?”

 

“Not exactly, but I’m not sure how much help it’s going to be to you.”  He motioned for them to follow him into an adjoining room where all of the sexual devices they had recovered from the victim’s apartment had been laid out on a stainless steel table.  “I swabbed every inch of every toy you guys sent over.  These things have been remarkably well maintained.”

 

“You aren’t going to tell us there wasn’t any trace on any of them?”  Olivia asked incredulously.

 

“Oh, I found DNA.  No one cleans that well.  The problem is that every single bit of it belongs to your vic.”

 

“How is that possible?”  Elliot grunted.

 

“It’s not.  Not unless your girl was extremely double jointed.”  He picked up one of the paddles, letting it dangle from his fingers by the strap.  “Most of these were not created for the solitary enthusiast.”  He laid it back down.  “Not to mention that someone had to strap her onto that table.  All of the DNA we found on the restraints belonged to Samantha Wainscott too.”

 

“So she found herself a top that didn’t switch.”  Olivia pursed her lips.

 

“That would be my conclusion as well.”  He grabbed up a rubber whip.  “And the lack of fingerprints from even the victim indicates a rather regimented use.  I did some research on the net.  In extreme B&D the bottom isn’t even allowed to touch the implements, aside from being on the business end of course.  But I did find this.”  He held up a small plastic bag that had a tiny piece of black fiber in it.

 

The brunette took it and held it up to the light.  “What is it?”

 

“Leather.”

 

She sighed.  “Couldn’t it have come from one of the whips?”

 

Ryan shook his head as he took the bag back.  “Not this leather.  It’s Peccary; high grade, tanned and dyed for a specific use. Soft, strong, and supple, considered to be the most exclusive and expensive sort of leather.  Used for high end driving gloves.” He opened a box behind him and pulled out a pair of gloves still in their extravagant wrapping.  Handing them to Elliot, he said,  “The leather is smooth, firm, washable and very durable.  It looks like your victim’s playtime partner had good taste in hand wear.”

 

“That explains why there were no fingerprints.”  Elliot mumbled.

 

“They’re expensive but not uncommon.”  Ryan shrugged.  “I told you I didn’t know how much help this was going to be to you.  You’re looking for an extreme B&D enthusiast who only tops, wears high-end gloves and is meticulous in her personal habits.  In New York?  Good luck with that one.  Although…”  His mouth turned down slightly in distaste,  “I would have to say that the fetish bench and the rack puts this suspect into the realm of the truly twisted.”

 

Olivia grinned.  “What’s the matter, Ryan?  Not everyone likes plain vanilla you know.”

 

The tech snorted.  “Is that your personal view, Detective?”

 

Her jaw dropped in surprise.  She hadn’t expected Ryan to snap back.

 

Elliot smirked as he stepped between them and pushed her towards the door.  “Benson loves vanilla.”  He called back over his shoulder.  “She just likes it two scoops at a time.”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

 

“Two scoops?”  Olivia raised her eyebrows as she slid into the car.

 

Elliot laughed.  “Tell me I’m wrong!”

 

She tried to scowl and only ended up grinning.  “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

 

“You’re just mad ‘cuz I’ve got your number.”  He threw the car into drive and pulled out into traffic. 

 

“Ya think?”

 

“Oh yeah.”  He winked at her.  “You want to hear whose scoops I think you’ve got your eye on?”

 

Olivia cleared her throat and looked out the window.  “So, we should head back to the station; hook up with Munch and Fin and see what they found out about the sex shop and the florist.”

 

“Good idea.” Elliot grinned.

 

The one six was quiet when they got back, but they found Munch in the conference room, going through a stack of photo albums they had picked up from the vics apartment the night before.

 

“Where’s Fin?”  Olivia set the tray of coffee cups she was carrying down next to the box of donuts Elliot had unceremoniously dropped on the table.

 

“He’s in the ladies room.”  John smirked as he reached for a jelly filled. 

 

“Anything come up at the sex shop?”  Elliot asked.

 

“Not unless you count my partner’s urge to regurgitate his breakfast.  All Samantha’s orders were done custom with the specs being sent in by email and the payments being made over the phone.  They never even saw the vic.  All the items were signed for by her maid.”

 

“So what’s with the pictures?”

 

He slid a piece of paper towards her and she picked it up, one eyebrow rising as she took in the same information repeated over and over again.  “Samantha’s home address?  What about it?”

 

“That’s where all the flowers were delivered.” 

 

She blinked.  “All twenty two bouquets?”

 

“Yep!”  John sighed happily as he took a long drink from his coffee.  “And since Ms. Wainscott doesn’t seem the type to send flowers to herself, we came to the conclusion that the intended recipient must have lived with her at some point. Hence the photo albums.”

 

“Any luck yet?” 

 

“No… but if lesbians break up the same way straight people do, any photo’s of the happy couple probably ended up in a BBQ pit somewhere.”

 

“What about the cards that went with the flowers?”

 

Munch smirked.  “All addressed to ‘S’ from ‘S’ with a lot of ‘forgive me’s’ in the middle.”

 

“So no name?”

 

“Tell me you love me!”  Fin walked into the room holding up a manila folder.

 

“What you got?”  Elliot stuffed half of a donut into his mouth and grabbed the file out of his hand.

 

“Wainscott’s probate lawyer just dropped that off.”  He stretched his neck to the side, causing several vertebrae to snap loudly.  “Guess who changed her will a week before she died?”

 

“Samantha?”  Olivia leaned into her partner, trying to read from the side.  “Who’s the new beneficiary?”

 

“Says here one Serra Tate.”  Elliot scratched his head.  “Who the hell is that?”

 

“I’m guessing that would be the other ‘S’.”  She scribbled the odd spelling down on a piece of paper.  “I’m going to pull her license.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, she walked back into the room, a frown creasing her forehead.

 

“What?”  Elliot growled.  “Don’t tell me the bitch doesn’t drive!”

 

“No, it’s not that.”  She handed him the eight by ten color copy of a New York State driver’s license.  The picture on it showed a pretty woman in her early twenties with blonde hair and startling blue eyes.  “Look at her personal information.  She’s five foot four and weighs a hundred and five pounds.”

 

“So?”

 

“So?”  She rolled her eyes.  “She weighs a buck o’ five for god’s sake, Elliot!  Samantha had three inches and twenty pounds on her.  There’s no way someone Tate’s size could do that kind of damage.”

 

He turned his back to the others slightly and lowered his voice.  “Look, Liv, I know this case has a somewhat… personal aspect to it for you, but we both know that money can make people do crazy things.  And this kind of money…”  He held open the file to show her the obscenely huge amount they were talking about; one hundred and forty seven million.  “This kind of money could make anyone into a killer.”

 

Olivia felt her spine stiffen at the insinuation that she would allow her personal preferences to cloud her judgment.  She ground her teeth together as she responded.  “Samantha Wainscott loved this woman enough to leave her everything and yet we didn’t find a single indication that she even existed anywhere in that apartment.  I know you’ve been married since god was a child, Elliot but even you have to admit that when someone breaks your heart, you don’t leave them your fortune.  Wiping any trace of them from your life, sure.  But leaving them everything…that’s something you would do if you were the guilty party.  Add that to the fact that the flower deliveries were months ago and the will change was just last week and I would say that Sam finally saw the error of her ways.” She ran her fingers through her hair.  “Do we even know if this Tate woman was notified of the change in Samantha’s will?”

 

“Negative.”  Fin chose that moment to break into the conversation.  “According to Sam’s lawyer, she didn’t want Serra to ever find out, unless it was time for her to collect.”

 

Elliot snorted.  “That doesn’t mean she didn’t know.  Someone could have blabbed.”  He held up his hand.  “And she could have had help with the actual murder.”  He slid a picture of Sam’s body to the center of the table.  “That kind of damage… that’s personal.  And there’s nothing more personal than love gone bad.”

 

“Whatever.”  She held up her hand to put an end to the conversation.  “I’m not saying that we shouldn’t investigate her.  I’m just telling you what I think.”  She took the file from his hand and closed it.  “Either way we have a notification to handle.  Maybe Judge Wainscott can give us some deeper insight into his daughter’s relationship with Serra Tate.”

 

“We’ll stay here and see what we can dig up on her in the meantime.”  Fin offered.  He watched Elliot and Olivia silently leave the station.  “Guess there’s trouble in MudVille.”

 

Munch scrunched his face into a confused frown.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“It’s a metaphor.”

 

“No it’s not!”  He rolled his eyes.  “It’s an allegory.”

 

“Shut up and eat your donut!” Fin snapped.

 

“Now that’s a stereotype.”

 

“So’s black rage.”  Fin glowered.  “But just keep talking and you’re gonna see it for real…”

 

            *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *          

 

The car ride was uncomfortably silent until Elliot finally cleared his throat.  “Look…  I didn’t mean to imply that you would let your personal life interfere with how you handled this case…“

 

“Just forget it, El.” She sighed as she reached into her jacket pocket for her cell phone. 

 

“C’mon, Liv.”  He offered her his best placating tone.  “I just don’t get why you’re so ready to pass on this woman as a viable suspect.”

 

“I’m not!”  She protested.  “For two days this case has been nothing but a big question mark and now that we have our first lead, at least into some part of Samantha Wainscott’s history, I’m not about to ignore it.  I just think there are aspects of the murder that don’t add up to our perp being her lover, that’s all.”  When he didn’t look convinced she rolled her eyes.  “Ok, then how about this?  How many times have you had a feeling in your gut that no one else bought into, but I was right there backing you up?”

 

That did the trick.  Elliot flushed dark red and his eyes seemed to glue themselves to the road in front of him.  “Point taken.”

 

“Good.”  She nodded.  Flipping open her cell phone she hit speed dial #3.  It was picked up on the second ring.

 

“Cabot.”

 

“Hey it’s me.”

 

“Hey you.”

 

Olivia felt herself shiver at the familiarity in Alex’s voice and forced herself to sit up straighter, sliding into her cop persona.  “I wanted to be the one to tell you…”

 

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone followed by a deep sigh.  “The I.D. came back.”

 

“Yeah.  I’m sorry, Alex.” 

 

She heard the ADA swallow quickly.  “Has Samuel been notified?”

 

“We’re on our way there now.”  She felt an overwhelming urge to hold Alex, and was suddenly very grateful she wasn’t in the same room with her.  Uncomfortable, she changed the subject.  “We got some interesting information this morning.  Seems Sam changed her will last week. Left everything to a woman named Serra Tate.  Munch and Fin are checking out her background now.  I’ll call you with an update when we get back to the station.”

 

“Okay….”  She could hear the dozens of questions the ADA wanted to ask and smiled when she held them in check.  “Thanks for calling me yourself.  Oh and Liv, don’t forget I need you in court at two this afternoon for your testimony on Neal.”

 

Olivia nodded silently for a moment, trying to undo the damage the words ‘I need you’ had done to her sense of decorum.  She knew she was taking them out of context, but they had an incredible impact on her nonetheless. 

 

“Liv?”

 

The detective started, realizing Alex was waiting for a verbal response.  “Sure thing counselor; you can count on me.”

 

There was a pause and then Alex responded softly.  “I have never doubted that…detective.”  The click echoed softly as the blonde hung up.

 

Olivia sat for a few moments, still holding the phone against her ear as she tried to get her heart rate to slow. 

 

She had gotten used to the effect the ADA’s anger had on her; the way catching her ire would make her feel like her blood was singing in her veins.  Truth be told, she had even prolonged a few of their fights intentionally, just to feel that passion directed at her for a few moments longer.

 

But that was nothing compared to the effect of those six softly spoken words.  The warmth they generated began in her chest and spread out to all points in her body.

 

Swallowing, Olivia snapped her cell phone closed and slid it into her pocket.

 

“Everything ok?”

 

She glanced over to find Elliot looking at her curiously.  “Yeah.  We just need to speed this up.  I need to be in court at 2pm for Neal.”

 

“Right.”  He nodded absently, knowing there was more going on but also knowing better than to pry at the moment.  “Well, we’re here.”

 

Olivia looked out the window as they pulled up to a tall wrought iron fence half covered in ivy.  An ornately decorated brick pedestal stood to the left side of the drive and Elliot thumbed the button embedded in it.  They had only been waiting for a couple of seconds when a smooth disembodied voice greeted them from the speaker directly above the call button.

 

“May I help you?”

 

“Detective’s Benson and Stabler to see Samuel Wainscott.” 

 

There was a pause then, “Of course, Detectives.  Judge Wainscott has been expecting you.  Please drive up.”

 

Elliot couldn’t contain a whistle and Olivia’s eyebrows rose as they followed the gently curving driveway up to a mansion.  There was just no other word for it.  The place was huge. The front was done in traditional plantation style, with multiple balconies and tall solid looking columns.  It spanned what would have been 3 housing lots in the ‘burbs and the entire structure was painted a bright white with red doors and shutters.

 

“Damn.”  Elliot muttered as they exited the car and headed for the front door.  “Guess his wife forgave him a little bit huh?”

 

Olivia didn’t answer.  She was already squaring her shoulders and schooling her mindset and facial expression for the notification.  She hated these things, but at least this time they weren’t coming into the situation cold.  It didn’t make it any better, but it made it a little easier.

 

Elliot rang the buzzer and Olivia was slightly startled when Samuel Wainscott opened the door himself only a few moments later.  Even more surprising was the look of hope on his face.

 

After he had studied them for a few moments, however, the look faded and his shoulders slumped as he waved them inside.  They followed him through a long hallway and into a richly appointed study.  Sitting down heavily on a small settee, he motioned for them to do the same.  “It was her.”

 

Olivia nodded slowly.  “We’re very sorry.” 

 

Wainscott stared at them blankly for a few moments then he dropped his head into his hands and cried.

 

Olivia’s eyebrows rose curiously.  She glanced at Elliot, but he was pretending to be engrossed in an oil painting that was hanging over the fireplace to their left.   It was that thing that guys do to give each other room when there’s too much touchy feely stuff coming from one of them.  Rolling her eyes slightly she turned her attention back to the judge, watching as he exhibited as much emotion as a parent who had just had the whole situation sprung on them at three o’clock in the morning.

 

“I know it’s hard, Judge Wainscott.”  She began.  “But there are some questions we need to ask that could help us figure out who did this to your daughter.”  Elliot threw her a sharp look but she ignored it.  “Are you up to answering our questions?”

 

Wainscott took a deep shuddering breath as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it over his face.  “What do you want to know?”

 

Olivia moved to the edge of her chair, staring directly into his eyes.  “Were you aware that your daughter changed her will a little over a week ago?”

 

His eyes widened.  “What?  Who told you that?”

 

“Your daughter’s probate attorney.”  Elliot offered softly.  “So you were unaware of this change?”

 

Wainscott’s face grew dark.  “Of course I wasn’t aware!”  He thundered, jumping to his feet.  “I’m not some rube, detective!  If I had thought for a moment that the family money was a motive, I would have said so.”

 

“But it wasn’t family money, was it?” Olivia asked, earning a glare from the irate judge.  “It was Samantha’s money.”

 

“I assure you, detective Samantha was a very important part of this family and she knew her place within it.  She would never have signed her legacy away if she wasn’t under some form of duress.”  He took a deep breath and sat down slowly.  “Who was named as heir in the new will?”

 

“One person… a woman by the name of Serra Tate.”

 

The two detectives watched as Wainscott’s face turned bright red and his eyes narrowed with anger.  He shot out of his seat yet again, his hands clenching furiously for a few moments and Olivia unconsciously slid further back in her chair.  “THAT BITCH!  SHE FINALLY DID IT!!  SHE KILLED MY LITTLE GIRL!!”

 

“Sir, please calm down.”  Elliot stood and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently forcing him back.  When they were all seated again, he pulled out his notebook and pen.  “Can you tell us who this woman is?”

 

The judge swallowed as a look of disgust covered his features.  “My Sammy was a good girl.  She graduated top of her class at NYU.  She took over all of her mother’s charity work when she died and she was even engaged to a junior partner at Taft, Lawry and McMann.”  He ran his hands over his face.  “It was the book.  That damn book!”

 

Olivia blinked.  “I beg your pardon?”

 

“Sammy was my girl, detective.  Even when her mother and I had our… problems, she was still mine.” Wainscott sighed.  “She wanted to surprise me with a Joe Lansdale first edition of The Nightrunners, but they’re hard to come by.  Lansdale is an… acquired taste, and his books were never published on the same scale as King or Koontz.  She tracked one down at some little book store on the west side.  That’s where she met her.”

 

“Serra Tate?” 

 

“Yes!”  The disdain dripped from his voice.  “She was nothing; just some little junior college drop out working three days a week at a two bit used book store.  Until she saw my Sammy… until she met her meal ticket.”  He swallowed thickly.  “Sammy was never… She would have never… It’s an abomination!  She took her to those…bars.  Convinced her she was a degenerate just like she was; got her to turn her back on me and her family obligations.”  Wainscott started to shake.  “And she got her involved with all that… that other...” He put his hand over his mouth and looked as though he was going to vomit.

 

Elliot cleared his throat.  “So you were aware of your daughter’s… activities?”

 

Wainscott turned on the detective.  “She was my daughter!  Do you really think I wouldn’t have a key to her apartment?”  He grabbed a decanter from the table and poured several fingers of scotch into a tumbler, downing it in one long drink.  “I saw that… table, the cabinet and that… other thing....  I saw enough!”  he stood quickly, his arm pulling back to throw the glass violently against the wall.  “That bitch made my daughter a pervert… and now she’s killed her.”

 

“I understand that you’re upset,” Olivia’s jaw tightened as she considered the judge’s behavior.  “But we don’t know that yet.  However, we do need to speak with Ms. Tate.  Do you remember the name of the bookstore?”

 

“No.  Trust me it isn’t a place I ever intended to visit again.”

 

Twenty minutes later Elliot slid back behind the wheel of the car, watching Olivia closely as she buckled her seat belt and stared pensively down at the floorboard.  “What’s on your mind?”

 

“He’s a bigot.”

 

“Maybe, but he’s also hurting and angry.  A lot of what he said could have stemmed from that.”

 

“I don’t think so. There’s something not…not quite right about everything that just happened.”  She shook her head.  “Did you see how he reacted when we first arrived?”

 

“Liv, he just got confirmation that his daughter was dead!”

 

“He acted like it was a shock.”

 

Elliot rolled his eyes.  “It IS a shock.  Every time we do a notification we never know before hand how the person is going to react.  We’ve seen blood relatives who didn’t bat an eyelash and family friends that have gone into hysterics.  Wainscott obviously bought into that one percent chance that the DB was someone else.  Hope can make a fool out of anyone.”

 

Olivia frowned, unable to put her finger on what exactly was bothering her.  “Maybe.”  She glanced at her watch.  “Shit, it’s after one.  I’ve got just enough time to change and make it to court.  Floor it.”