Hostage of the Heart

Hell Yeah (Twenty-Two)

"Need more cream cheese, Mickey?"

Having been staring off into space, Detective Baldwin rapidly blinked, craning her head to look toward the amused appearing gentleman seated at the desk to her right. Asking him to repeat, once he did so, she looked toward her hands, softly chuckling. In her left was half a bagel topped with a thick layer of cream cheese and her right a plastic knife prepared to add more.

"No, thanks. Think I have quite enough." Feet removed from the desk, she placed both the bagel slice and knife on a paper plate. Swiveling her chair in his direction, Michaela grabbed a clickable pen and found another empty spot for her feet, one ankle resting atop the other. "I was deep in thought."

"Concerning?"

"Something smells...off."

Raising his head as if wanting to search the ceiling high above, Marshall caused his co-worker to chuckle when he made a show of sniffing the air. A rare smile in place, he refocused on her. "All my nose detects is lousy coffee and that even lousier cologne O'Neill insists pouring on his person every day."

Dark eyes filled with amusement, Michaela shook her head. "As evident as those odors are, not what I'm referring to." She paused long enough to click her pen five times in rapid succession. "Thinking about the Redding/Gibson case. There's something that's been bugging me for the last three days."

"I'm all ears, Mickey." Sitting back in his chair, he folded arms over a broad chest while presenting Michaela with his full attention.

"Okay." Click, click. "As revolting as it is, I've been trying to put myself in Victor Gibson's shoes so to speak. Trying to get into his head...think what he could have possibly been thinking and there's this one question that keeps popping up." Having been gazing somewhere over Marshall's shoulder, she finally made eye contact. "Why would he kill Piper on the porch?"

Because it seemed as though she wanted a response, Marshall quickly thought of something. "Victor wanted her dead. Tormented her for years and planned to finish with her death."

Click, click, click and a slow nod. "Right. He played a game of cat and mouse without the mouse fully realizing what was going on. A cat might capture and play with a mouse, slapping it around, not planning on killing it for a while. What does Victor the cat do? After toying with her for nearly a decade, the moment he has her by the tail, he purposefully kills her like that." Michaela snapped her fingers.

"I understand that he intended to kill Piper, but he neglected to play with her up close and personal. All that work, all that deception, bribing, blackmailing, killing, and when it reaches the point where they can meet eye to eye, he rushes. Why rush? There wasn't any hurry. They were secluded in the woods and Victor took his sweet time explaining everything to Desiree. But Piper, his longtime target? Three words--'sweet dreams, sis' followed by three pulls of a trigger." Clicking paused, Michaela tapped the bridge of her nose with it. "That smells."

"So...you think Desiree Love lied?"

"No. I don't doubt what she shared with me. I think...not certain what I think." A frustrated breath released, the detective clicked her pen even faster. "Why would he kill Piper on the porch? Desiree meant nothing to him, yet he told her everything. Revealed everything and seemed proud to do so. Shouldn't he have wanted to tell Piper? Brag about how he's been messing with her since she was a teenager? That's what I'd do if I were an evil son of a--biscuit." Michaela rolled her eyes when Marshall chuckled following her swift modification of the insulting phrase. Growing up as the only girl surrounded by four rough and tumble brothers, it was sometimes difficult not to, but as a teenager she vowed that she would swear as little as possible. Dealing with unsavory characters on a regular basis often tested her resolve.