After finishing upstairs, Olivia and Danny had only one more room to process - Eli Sheridan's private study. If it was anything like the rest of the house they would be done in no time and on their way back to the lab to begin the lengthy job of processing their evidence. And maybe enjoy a strong cup of coffee while they were on.
It was safe to say the entire house was immaculate - showhome immaculate. And not just because the killer had been extra careful to clean up after him. Even before the tragedy that had happened here tonight, it was clear that Anna Sheridan kept a home to be proud of. Each of the CSI's who had worked the scene hadn't been able to find a single dust void anywhere in the house, not a speck of dirt, nor a piece of dirty cutlery. There wasn't a thing out of place. The only exception being the family room - where Danny and Hawkes had found the blood spill - it was the one room where chaos had been allowed to reign. It only made it all seem even more poignant.
The bathroom, Olivia had discovered, was the cleanest she'd ever seen. To the point of hospital sterile. Neither a single hair nor a blob of toothpaste in the basin. The sparkling white suite could have been fitted that very day. Which was why when Danny pushed open the door to Eli Sheridan's private domain and flicked on the light switch, the two CSI's were shocked by what greeted them.
The room looked like a tornado had just ripped through it.
The cushions from the deep green leather sofa had been upturned and were tossed into the four corners of the room and the large oak desk that stood before the picture window overlooking the backyard had its drawers pulled out, their contents tipped all over the floor. Even the sleek metal filing cabinet to the left of the desk had its drawers removed. Folders and papers, books and files were strewn carelessly around the room.
Danny and Olivia shared the same stunned look.
'Maybe we should've started in here first,' Danny said, stating the obvious. 'We'll be greeting the sun at this rate.'
Olivia sighed heavily and slowly nodded her head in agreement. She could feel the beginnings of a headache pricking behind her eyelids. She needed to rest. But after tonight she wasn't sure she'd be able until whoever had done this was behind bars.
'Well,' she said, carefully stepping into the room, 'I'm going to take a stab. Whatever it was our killer was after, most likely it was in here.'
'Copy that. Let's get busy.'
Slowly, after taking detailed photos of the room, the two CSI's began to sift their way through the paper chaos. While Olivia stepped over files and important looking documents, stopping every now and then to snap off photos and to take a closer look, Danny answered his cell phone, which was ringing somewhere inside his navy parka. Taking the phone out he saw it was Mac.
'Boss,' he answered.
'Finding anything?' Mac asked.
Danny rubbed a hand over his chin. 'You know that saying, I think it goes something like, don't count your chickens or something, well, we were doing just that and then boom,' he said, staring helplessly at the pile of papers and whatnot surrounding him and Olivia.
Mac thought he sounded frustrated and tired. 'What happened?'
'Thought we were almost done, ready to roll back to the lab and we walk into the mutated version of Mount Xerox. Eli Sheridan's study, Mac...it's like a bomb went off. Whatever our killer wanted was in here.'
'What have you got so far?'
'Not a whole lot. Haven't even made a dent,' Danny said watching Olivia. She was over by the window, crouching down, as if something had caught her attention.
'All right. Just keep at it, see what you can come up with. Can you be back here within the hour?'
Danny exhaled and shook his head. 'You wouldn't believe the state of this room.'
'Just do what you can and get back here as soon as. We need to sit down and pull our thoughts together,' Mac said.
'No problem. See you soon as.'
'Danny, one other thing, how's Olivia?'
'Uh,' Danny frowned at the somewhat odd question and glanced over at his partner, she was now working at what appeared to be a loose floorboard, 'I dunno, tired, maybe. Nothing that a gallon of coffee wouldn't put right.'
'I think we're all tired. Okay. See you soon.'
Danny hung up the phone and looked at Olivia. 'Mac's asking if we can be back at the lab within the hour. Pretty hefty assumption. What you got there?'
'A couple of these floorboards have been replaced,' Olivia explained. She went into her kit and pulled out a pocket-knife and eased it between the newer planks of wood. Danny got down beside her, curious over what - if anything - they may find.
Moments later the floorboard gave way and with Danny's help, Olivia prised the board up. Both CSI's peered inside the hole in the floor where there was a gray metal safety lock box. With a gloved hand Olivia reached in and retrieved the box.
Danny shone his flashlight into the hole. 'No key. Probably in the desk. What's left of it.'
'Could this be what our killer was looking for?'
Danny clicked off his light and jerked his shoulders. 'Your guess is as good as mine, Duke.'
Olivia handled the key lock and gave it a little wiggle. 'We could probably break into this no problem if we can't find the key.' She pulled a large clear evidence bag from her kit, put the box inside and got to her feet. She turned to begin again on the mass of paper that covered the floor when she realized Danny hadn't moved, he was still staring down into the hole, a frown puckering his brow. 'What is it?'
He cleared his throat and gave his head a little shake. 'Got this feeling I can't shake.'
'What kind of feeling?'
Danny straightened up. 'Last year we had a case, wealthy family of four murdered in their home. All found dead in the parents' bedroom, throats cut. Two kids, both boys, placed between the parents, wrists and ankles bound. I can still see the crime scene photos...' He gave his head a shake. 'Killer turned out to be the eldest daughter and her ex-con boyfriend, seemed that on her parents death she stood to get a hefty trust fund. She got greedy, didn't want to wait.'
'We know the Sheridan's only have two children.'
'I'm seeing similarities.'
'We're meant to treat each case differently. Regardless of similarity.'
'I know. It just feels all wrong,' he added, looking around him.
'C'mon, let's get on with this,' Olivia said. 'If Mac wants us back in the hour we better get a move on.'
They worked quietly for a few more minutes, snapping off photos, looking through papers and files in the hope they would find something, anything, that would give them a clue as to what the killer was looking for, while bagging up anything that might be classed as probative.
Danny had successfully cleared a spot on the floor by the sofa and was thumbing his way through the file in his hands. He let out a low whistle. 'Must be over a dozen bond certificates here. This stuff could be worth thousands. Safe to say our killer wasn't looking for cash.'
'Mac found a safe in the Master bedroom, there was at least half a million dollars inside,' Olivia told him.
He glanced at her. 'See, that doesn't make any sense. You murder the family and the cash is right there in front of you and you don't take it?'
Olivia shrugged. She wandered over to the solid oak bookcase in the far corner of the room. 'I've got some first edition books here.' She pulled one out, thumbing through the pristine pages. 'Definitely wasn't after cash,' she added thoughtfully.
After a few more moments Danny moved over to the desk and began to work his way through the papers strewn across it. After clearing it, he began dusting for prints and then sprayed the area with Luminol. 'I'm not finding blood or prints,' he said. 'There's no evidence that our killer was in here. Not after he killed the family, anyway. We could be looking at this all wrong. Maybe Sheridan lost a little cash on the Markets and went on a rampage.'
'And trashed his own office? I doubt that. Not given the immaculate order of the rest of the house.'
'Swipes and swirls speak for themselves.'
Olivia lifted her head from the portfolio in her hands and met Danny's thoughtful gaze. She seemed to know exactly what her partner was thinking. That this guy was good. He took his time. And that they weren't going to get lucky. It was that which weighed heavy on Olivia's mind. If the killer had taken his time to search for whatever it was he was looking for, and then clean up after himself...exactly how long had Gracie Sheridan stayed hidden away? How long had she sat cowering beneath her blanket, terrified that he was coming after her next?
And just like that it happened.
The overwhelming surge of emotion barreled through Olivia's body. She tried to stop the thought from forming, but it came unbidden to her anyway. The memory sparked in her mind, assaulting her consciousness and before she knew it the nightmare was reliving itself over as she fell into a past world. And this time, she couldn't stop it.
Charlie...Lily.
Charlie...forced to watch as Hickey murdered his beautiful baby sister...terrified, waiting...knowing he was next. Listening to his sister's muffled screams...his heart hammering in his chest...knowing no one was coming to save them.
Because no one was there.
She should have been there.
'Olivia. Olivia.'
She jerked her eyes open, hadn't even realized she'd closed them, to see Danny standing before her concern on his face, a deep furrow between his eyes.
'You okay?'
Sucking in a deep breath she tried to shut out the flood of memories and emotions. She told herself to get a grip, to stay calm. Her mind was begging her body to relax. But it wasn't working. Her heart was pounding and she could hear the blood rushing through her ears. Lifting a hand, she wiped away the film of sweat forming above her top lip. Just like after waking in the middle of the night from a bad dream, the sheets tangled around her sweat-soaked limbs, the palpitations. The twisting ache that never left her. And then the realization that the bad dream hadn't been a dream at all.
Because her nightmare was so very real.
The damage had been done.
She was sinking.
She pushed by Danny, brushing away his hand and rushed out into the hallway, racing towards the kitchen where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the waste disposal. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she told herself, ordered herself, to leave the thought behind. To push it far, far away into the dark recesses of her mind. But it didn't matter how hard she tried, the image of Charlie and Lily, trembling, frightened, crying...begging for their lives, begging for someone to come save them...it just wouldn't leave her. It would never leave her. Gripping the edge of the sink, she felt the breath seize in her chest. The adrenaline coursed through her veins making the cold sweat break out all over her body and she shivered violently. She knew it was coming.
Oh God, not now.
It had been a long time since the last one.
'You okay? Are you sick?' came Danny's worried voice from behind. She had her back to him, she was leaning over the sink, gripping the edge so tightly that he could see the white forming on her knuckles.
'I'm...okay. Out...in a sec,' she managed to get out.
'What's wrong?' he asked, coming over to her. 'Jesus, you're shaking like a leaf.'
'I...I can't...' The rest of the words wouldn't come. Her body was seizing up, her breath coming in rapid, ragged gasps.
Danny knew what was happening to her, he recognized the signs.
Two years back after he'd been chasing down a shooter in the subway and accidentally shot a plain-clothes police officer, the panic attacks had come shortly after. Mac had ordered him to undergo a psych evaluation when it became clear that the incident was haunting him on a daily basis. Affecting both his work and personal life. He could remember the first day back on the job, handling a gun again...It had felt like climbing a mountain of Jell-O. He was over the attacks now, it had taken some time, but the memory of that day in the subway was etched into his mind. Some scars were meant to remain.
'Sit down. Over here,' Danny said, guiding her over to a nearby chair. She was cold and shaking, her body clearly in shock. He tugged off his parka and wrapped it around her shoulders and then got down in front of her, his hands on her knees. She was staring back at him, eyes wide and he could see her tears. 'It's okay. Deep breaths through your nose, let them out slowly through your mouth,' he coached. 'You're gonna be okay.'
'I...can't,' she stammered between painful gasps. The adrenaline was rushing so fast that she felt dizzy and her heart was hammering so hard against her ribcage that the pain of it made the tears fall.
'Yes, you can, Olivia. Just focus on me. Concentrate on my voice. Slow, deep breaths,' he instructed. 'Slow, deep breaths.' Her eyes clung to his as she focused on what he was telling her to do, breathing in slowly and deeply. 'That's it,' he said, his voice reassuring. 'You're doing great. Nice and slow. Good girl.'
Each minute felt like an hour. But with Danny's gentle instruction, she began to control her breathing. Her body slowly began to relax and the seizing in her chest wasn't as painful. The attack was starting to wear off but it was a slow process.
'You got any useless trivia for me?' Danny asked pulling his parka tighter around her. She wasn't trembling as much but it was still important to keep her warm. 'How about this, did you know that a duck's quack has no echo? Or that a butterfly tastes with its feet?'
It elicited a gasp from her that could have been a laugh or a sob. 'I knew that,' she said quietly, still concentrating on her breathing.
'Yeah, what else do you know?'
'That you're...trying to...distract me.'
He grinned at her. 'How I'm doing?'
'Pretty good,' she said, and even managed a small smile back. 'I think you...even called me...by my first name.'
Danny grinned. 'Don't go making it in somethin' it's not,' he said and she smiled back.
A total of four minutes passed before she finally reached the surface. She took a deep gulp of breath and this time the air made it to her lungs. She could finally breathe normally again, but the tears still stung her eyes. Tears of relief and of embarrassment that she had broken down at a crime scene. And in front of Danny.
When Danny was convinced that she was through it, he got up and poured her a glass of cold water. She gratefully accepted it, drinking down the whole glass while he swilled away the remains of vomit from the sink and then gave his hands a quick rinse. Turning back to look at her she was staring down into the glass, a haunted look in her eyes and it stilled something inside of him, reminding him all too much of his own losses. Of his brother Louie. Of his own past pain. He had covered a lot of crime scenes with Olivia. This was the first time she had broken down. He didn't know her story, he didn't need to. Something was haunting her. Something bad.
'Feel better?'
She nodded. 'Yeah...I'm okay.' She drew in a breath, held it and then slowly let it go, aware of the wary gaze he was still passing her way. The concern was etched around his eyes, but she managed to smile, hoping to convince him that she really was okay. 'Thanks, Danny.'
'How long you been having them?' he said, a distinct knowing in his tone.
Her heart plummeted a little that he seemed to get this hadn't been her first, and she briefly closed her eyes. 'I thought I was over them,' she replied, shaking her head. What was the use in lying about it?
Danny only nodded. He was thinking about his conversation with Mac. When he'd made a point of asking how Olivia was doing. 'Maybe you should talk to Mac,' he suggested. 'This case, if it's - '
'I'm fine,' she assured him. 'I can handle it.' Like she had earlier that night with Mac, it was as if she was daring him to argue with her. He didn't. He just slowly nodded his head.
'A'ight then. If you're sure.'
'I am.'
He gave her another long thoughtful look and then shrugged. 'Okay. I say we start loading up what we got and head back to the lab. We've got the important stuff, the rest can wait until tomorrow,' he considered. 'It's not going anywhere.'
She nodded her agreement. Her body was tired, her head was aching and her eyes felt heavy and sore. 'It's been a long night.' All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Whether or not she slept was another matter altogether.
'Maybe when we come back tomorrow things'll look different. I'm not sure it can get any worse,' mused Danny. 'I'll start packing up, you just sit there.'
'No, I'm fine,' she said and slowly got to her feet to prove she was. Her legs felt like jelly and her head spun a little, but after a moment it passed. She pulled his parka from her shoulders and looked a little uncomfortable as she handed it back to him. 'Thanks Danny.'
'So long as you're okay.'
She wasn't sure if she would ever be okay. Meeting his eyes she said, 'I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here.'
Danny didn't know either, he was just glad he had been.
Olivia could tell by the way he was looking at her that he was still concerned, that he had questions. But he didn't say anything else, he just nodded his head and for that she was grateful.
*
It was two in the morning when she finally locked her apartment door behind her. She dragged her tired body toward the bathroom and stood beneath the shower for ten minutes, allowing the hot water to beat down against the back of her neck. It didn't matter how hot or how much the spray stung, it didn't wash away the day. Nothing could take away what she had seen in the last few hours.
And just like back in the kitchen at the Sheridan house, the tears came, hot and fast, and she stood there crying like a little girl lost. Because it was the only thing that she had the strength to do.
All of her thoughts tumbled through her head, colliding and crashing into each other. She couldn't shake off the family dead on the bedroom floor, the blood that had been everywhere, the smell of death that had emanated throughout the entire house. She remembered opening up the closet door and seeing the little girl, crying and terrified, her thin frame shaking. She could still feel her little arms around her neck, her cold hands on her skin as she sobbed and she could still see the light that had sparked in her eyes when she had said she would visit.
Olivia cried for Gracie Sheridan. For the empty, loneliness that was only just beginning for the little girl. Olivia had been sixteen when her world had been ripped apart. When she had been left all alone. Gracie Sheridan was five years old. The child was just a baby. The same age Lily had been.
She leaned back against the tiles, the water raining down over her. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. And just like she had every day for the last twelve years she cried for her own loss.
But nothing could take it away.
Nothing would ever take away the emptiness inside.
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Copyright © 2006 [Debra Jay] All Rights Reserved