kippurbird | (no subject)

I got the final chunk of Plain Jane.

In it we have:

Police woman sexually harassing suspect!

The detective was working her magic, but this guy was scared. Even more scared then horny. They needed the big guns. And they needed them now. “I’m telling you, Nic. Get that breast front and center.”

Kent matched his respiratory rate to the perp’s. As Nicole’s chest glanced the guy’s shoulder, his breaths sky-rocketed. A closed mouth pant.

“Yes,” the man exhaled more than spoke.

Kent could sense that Nicole knew she had the upper hand for her tone became coy.

Her words soft in the perp’s ear. “You just wanted to be close.”

The guy nearly shook with excitement as she pressed her left breast against him. “Yes.”

Martin was theirs. He was now nothing more than clay to be molded at their will.
“Told you. That left one has magical properties, doesn’t it, Julio?”

Kent smiled as Ruben glowered. Nicole, however, had overcome her reservations and made such close contact with the perp that even Kent felt a twinge of jealousy.

Nicole’s words sounded like pillow talk. “Tell me.”

Breaking the mood that Kent and Nicole had so carefully cultivated, Torres cleared his throat loudly.

Martin’s eyes darted nervously again. “I can’t.”

“You can,” the temptress encouraged.

“I’m not saying another word.”

As the perp crossed his arms, it looked like Nicole’s breast had lost its magic. But Kent had more in his arsenal than just her mammary tissue. But it would take Nicole trusting him. Completely. Unquestioning.

Glick walked out of the room, indicating that Ruben should follow. In silence, they made their way to the Captain’s office in silence. Glick made a point to shut the door before turning back to Ruben. Still, his supervisor didn’t answer his question.

“Well?”

“Harbinger was…” The Captain couldn’t finish the sentence.

“He was right? Again?”

How could this be? Maybe the bastard was psychic after all.

“Martin told one of his friends last week that Plain Jane was nothing compared to what he was going to do.”

“The ugly and the stupid,” Ruben reflected by Kent’s words.

“Yeah, something like that…” The Captain paused long enough for Ruben search his face. What else could there be? “And we have a new problem.”

“Kent is running for president?” he asked, somewhat sarcastically, and somewhat hoping he wasn’t right.

Glick grunted as he sat down at his desk. “No, but almost as bad. The uterus from last night’s vic, Joann, it’s missing.”

Ruben stayed standing. “But I thought the coroner confirmed it was intact?” A glimmer of hope arose. Had Kent somehow been wrong about Joann? “Harbinger’s whole theory rests on that uterus.”

“Don’t get too ramped up. The uterus was intact last night. The M.E. removed, weighed it, biopsied and put it in a jar marked as evidence.”

“And now it has miraculously disappeared?”

Glick rubbed his dark circled eyes. “Yeah.”

Ruben sat down, hard on the chair. “Great. So we think the killer got his trophy after all?”

“Who else would want a cut up uterus?”

“What do they think?” Josh wasn’t about to let this travesty go. “The guy forgot to take his Ridlyn one day and just started hammering away?”

“Look, I drive just ‘em, and you load them on the slab. What do we care what they think? An autopsy is an autopsy.”

Josh sucked in a breath. Sacrilege. Just straight up sacrilege. It took him a few moments to form the words necessary to counter such blasphemy. “Oh… Oh, you are so wrong. They are like --”

“Okay, if you give me your delicate flower analogy, I’m going to hammer you.”

As Josh stood there stunned, the driver got back into his wagon and drove off. The man obviously didn’t understand that death was as important as life. He went to close the bag back up, but patted the woman’s cheek before he zipped it. “No one understands us, do they, love?”

This was all her fault. After his releases from the mental hospital, Kent had been in the psychiatric half-way house for over six months, and the doctors said he was adjusting well. Taking his medications without incident. Beginning to socially interact with the other patients. A stranger might have taken him for a normal person, but no, Nicole had to go and trash all that progress.

Over the objection of Ruben, Glick, four doctors, two social workers and an assistant district attorney, she had asked the profiler to return to work. What concern was Kent’s tentative mental status with so many women’s lives on the line? Brashly, Nicole had thought she knew the profiler better than them all.

Opening her eyes, she found hundreds more pictures taped to the ceiling, and realized just how wrong she had been. Obviously she didn’t know Kent at all.

Mainly out of a morbid curiosity, Nicole pointed her flashlight upward. Which victim had won the coveted spot above his bed? As she studied the photos, she realized these weren’t creepy stalker pictures. These were photos of her.

Sitting upright, she craned her neck for a better look. The ceiling was covered with images of her. These didn’t have the impersonal feel of surveillance photos. They were great shots. There she was with her friend, Lisa, at a movie. Another of her running the reservoir with, Monty, a detective from the two-seven. The layout looked like a huge photo spread for a glossy magazine. There was even one of her sleeping.

Taking in the scene as a whole, the width and breadth of the brilliance and dysfunction, Nicole made a realization; Kent wasn’t coming back to his room tonight.

Standing on the bed, she reached and pulled down the center photo, knowing pretty damn sure where the profiler had retreated to.

And I got bored. WHOO!

Now, I'm fairly certain that Joshua is Plain Jane. Haven't gotten there yet though.