Crossover... Yes, Another One...
And here's my start of the Killing crossover...
"What we got?" Linden asked, walking into the room. She didn't know how Holder had gotten the call before her, but she didn't like it. Ever since she found out about that doctored photo, she'd been watching him carefully. She couldn't prove anything, and with Richmond and Belko dead, nothing had come of the photo. She had come back to confront him.
She didn't know why she hadn't done it yet. She should have turned his addict ass in and let him face the consequences. They'd been convinced that Richmond had killed Rosie Larsen, but what if they were wrong? They'd been wrong about the teacher. What if Belko had killed an innocent man?
"Woman, early twenties, found dead in the room. Could be hooker, could be stripper. Could be college grad for all we know, which ain't much. We got no id. Hotel says they don't have surveillance anywhere but the lobby."
"You're kidding."
"It happens, Linden. Even today when we're all paranoid."
"Maybe someone will 'engineer' some footage," she said, looking at him. Holder frowned at her. He better not try and deny it. It was past time to talk to him about it. Of course, now they were right in the middle of another case. It was almost too late. Why had she waited? Had she really expected him to come to her, confess? This was Holder. She knew better than that.
"Whatever, Linden," Holder said, shrugging. She got closer to the body and shook her head.
"Looks like a sexual assault," she said, noting the way that the woman's skirt had been left and the position of her legs. Linden wanted this guy. She wanted them all, but someone who did this-she wanted him more than the usual creep.
"It does."
Linden continued to circle the body, observing the destruction around it. This woman had put up one hell of a fight. There were signs of struggle everywhere. The furniture, the broken glass. Someone should have heard something. "Why didn't anyone hear this?"
"You don't pay much attention to the news, do you, girl?" Holder asked, and Linden looked over at him with a glare. He smirked at her. "Football game last night. Big upset. Our guys lost."
"And why does that matter?"
"Because the winning team booked most of this hotel. The party was something, or so I been told," Holder explained with a grin. She wanted to smack that look right off his face.
She shook her head. Of course. She turned to him, thinking of something she should have asked sooner. "We got a name for the room?"
"Yeah, but it's not hers."
Linden had figured as much since he'd said they had no id, but then again, she hadn't been first on the scene. She didn't know what they'd asked, who they'd spoken to. She hated playing catch up. She was supposed to be the primary. Holder shouldn't be filling her in. She should know all of this already, should have walked through it by now. "Then maybe it was registered to our killer. What's the name?"
"That's where this gets good."
"Spit it out, Holder," Linden ordered, losing her patience. She didn't have the time to put up with him, not right now.
"The room happens to belong to the game's MVP."
"Holder, what is with you and the damn game?" she demanded. "Did you have money on the game or what?"
"I watched it with a few friends. Look, the Hawks got this player. Always in the news. Huge name, huge personality. History of violence. Everyone knows he's in therapy," Holder went on. "Guy looks good for it. Hell, he looks like the perfect type."
"There's no such thing, Holder," she told him, taking another look at the body. The Larsen case was still fresh in her mind. Do we have this guy in custody?"
"Not exactly."
"We have a name. This is his room. His prints are probably all over this place. If he's not our killer, then he damn well knows something, and I want him in our interrogation room, now."
"Thought you'd say that. Been looking forward to you taking on the man in black."
Linden frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about now?"
Holder led Linden into the room next to the crime scene, opening the door for her. He really had been looking forward to this. He shouldn't, he supposed, because he hadn't gotten anywhere near this bastard in black, but he thought she'd have better luck. She was a damn good ball buster.
Terrence King was still sitting on the bed, a hand holding an ice pack to his forehead, just above a cut that was bleeding. Linden gave him a cold look. The guy did look like he'd been in a fight with their vic, but he sure as hell wasn't talking. The man in black wasn't about to let that happen.
"You're Terrence King?"
"He's clearly in need of medical attention and will not be answering your questions until he sees a doctor," the man in black said, drawing Linden's attention for the first time. Holder watched her assess the man.
"Who are you?" Linden demanded. "Mr. King's lawyer?"
The man gave her a slight smile as he shook his head. "No."
"Oh, dog, you're gonna wish he was," King said. The man in black shot him a look, and King looked down at the floor. Holder exchanged a look with Linden. She turned back to the man in black.
"You didn't answer my question."
"And you have yet to make arrangements for him to see a doctor. The team travels with one, but your officers won't let him through," the man in black said. "If you want cooperation, let him in to examine Terrence."
"If you want that, I suggest you answer my question. Who are you?"
"Officially, I act as the Hawks' head of security. My job is to protect my people. Whatever the circumstances of Mr. King's involvement in this woman's death, denying him medical attention can and will hurt your case," the man in black went on. "You can continue to play it like this, but it will not go in your favor."
"That's right," King said, sounding loopy. "You don't mess with the man."
"Furthermore, I believe that Mr. King may have been exposed to some kind of drug, and the longer you delay the doctor, the more you deny him what you're supposed to strive for. Justice. Lawyers are about to get involved. This is about to get ugly. I don't think you want that."
"You planning on giving me a name any time soon?"
"Greg Jackson. Team's doctor. Get him. Now," the man in black answered. He took out a phone. "Xeno, bring Jackson up. I don't care how many people you have to push him through. TK is injured and no one seems to listen to me. Funny, but the whole world is not afraid of me. Yes, perhaps they should be. Just get him up here."
He ended the call and looked back at Linden. "As I said before, you can have full cooperation when he has had medical attention. Not before, and you are trying my patience for later."
"Detective Holder," Linden began, not looking at him, her eyes still on the man in black. "You have information about the Hawks?"
"Not much."
"I told you we would cooperate if you would see to his injuries. You are treating him as a suspect, aren't you? You have not even spoken to him. Conviction before any preliminary interview, is that what we're looking at here? Then we're done. You will speak to the team's lawyers and have no further contact with Terrence until after they arrive."
"You are not helping his case."
"On the contrary, I think I am saving not only his reputation but his life," the man in black said, moving to become a physical barrier between them and King. "You could have done this without the lawyers. You could have made it easy on yourselves. But since you clearly want it complicated, you've forced my hand. You will not like our lawyers. No one does."
"Nico," King said, pulling on the man's coat. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
"You may have a concussion. You may also be reacting to the drugs," the man in black said, helping King to his feet and into the bathroom.
Linden turned to Holder. "We're going to need information on this guy."
Holder looked at her, taking out a cigarette. "You know, I thought you might get something from him. I think all you did was piss him off."
"You weren't exactly helping," she reminded him coldly, and she gave him that look again. They were going to have a talk later. He knew that. He knew that she knew. About the photo. She'd dropped enough hints, not that her coming back wasn't suspicious enough in the first place. "Find out what you can about him. I want to know how he is involved in all of this."
"Detective? I've got a couple men here. One says he's the team's doctor. The other... well, he doesn't say much, but he's determined to get by."
"Let the doctor in," Linden ordered. "And then I want that man in interrogation as soon as the doctor has seen him."
The doctor passed by them. "Nico?"
"In here. I'm not sure if it's a concussion or a drug in his system. I lean toward the drug given the memory loss, but I don't have the ability to test his blood."
"You don't carry a kit? I thought that you took care of everything."
"You're the doctor. I'm not."
"But you're the legend. Prepared for everything."
Linden had moved out of the room, but Holder stuck behind, watching this Nico guy and the doctor. He needed to know what was going on. The man in black was tougher than a brick wall, and Linden was right. They needed to know what he knew about what had happened in that other room. Memory loss. So whoever Nico was, he'd gotten at least part of the story out of King.
Bastard knew more than he was saying.
"I hate lawyers," Linden muttered. Next to her, Holder grunted. He'd explained what he'd heard in the hotel room between this "Nico" and the doctor who'd examined King. Nico knew something. What he knew, he would probably never say. They had a better chance of getting information from King despite the team of lawyers now circling around him.
"They're gonna block us."
"I know that," she said, going into the interrogation room. "I am Detective Linden. My partner, Detective Holder. We need to ask you questions about the woman in your room, Mr. King."
"Our client has nothing to say at this time."
She looked at the lawyers. "Nothing to say. With a dead woman in his hotel room. She was sexually assaulted. We have DNA, and your client will have to give us a sample to compare it against. The supeona is already here."
"All of your evidence is circumstancial. It was Terrence's room, and his fingerprints and possibly even his DNA would be there simply because it was his room."
"Your client called your head of security and not the police when he discovered the body," Linden said, her eyes going to the Nico that still had no last name. "Looks suspicious."
King lifted his head. He turned to the man in the dark coat. Linden watched that. For all his speeches about the lawyers, that man was still calling the shots. He gave a slight nod. "All I know is that I woke up and she was dead. My head's pounding, I feel like I been shot again... I did the only thing I could think of. I called Nico. I don't know how she got there, but I didn't invite her in. I was on the phone, in my room, with my girl back home, and you can check that. I don't even remember finishing the conversation."
"We have confirmation that Terrence was drugged. We are willing to let a licensed hypnotist help him. It might allow him to recover more memories of the evening."
"Then we can arrange-"
"She's already on her way. Dr. Santino will be here in a few hours. And this interview is over," Nico said, walking out of the room.
Linden glared at his back as the lawyers took their client away. She was going to find out who that man was, and she was going to make him pay.
"What we got?" Linden asked, walking into the room. She didn't know how Holder had gotten the call before her, but she didn't like it. Ever since she found out about that doctored photo, she'd been watching him carefully. She couldn't prove anything, and with Richmond and Belko dead, nothing had come of the photo. She had come back to confront him.
She didn't know why she hadn't done it yet. She should have turned his addict ass in and let him face the consequences. They'd been convinced that Richmond had killed Rosie Larsen, but what if they were wrong? They'd been wrong about the teacher. What if Belko had killed an innocent man?
"Woman, early twenties, found dead in the room. Could be hooker, could be stripper. Could be college grad for all we know, which ain't much. We got no id. Hotel says they don't have surveillance anywhere but the lobby."
"You're kidding."
"It happens, Linden. Even today when we're all paranoid."
"Maybe someone will 'engineer' some footage," she said, looking at him. Holder frowned at her. He better not try and deny it. It was past time to talk to him about it. Of course, now they were right in the middle of another case. It was almost too late. Why had she waited? Had she really expected him to come to her, confess? This was Holder. She knew better than that.
"Whatever, Linden," Holder said, shrugging. She got closer to the body and shook her head.
"Looks like a sexual assault," she said, noting the way that the woman's skirt had been left and the position of her legs. Linden wanted this guy. She wanted them all, but someone who did this-she wanted him more than the usual creep.
"It does."
Linden continued to circle the body, observing the destruction around it. This woman had put up one hell of a fight. There were signs of struggle everywhere. The furniture, the broken glass. Someone should have heard something. "Why didn't anyone hear this?"
"You don't pay much attention to the news, do you, girl?" Holder asked, and Linden looked over at him with a glare. He smirked at her. "Football game last night. Big upset. Our guys lost."
"And why does that matter?"
"Because the winning team booked most of this hotel. The party was something, or so I been told," Holder explained with a grin. She wanted to smack that look right off his face.
She shook her head. Of course. She turned to him, thinking of something she should have asked sooner. "We got a name for the room?"
"Yeah, but it's not hers."
Linden had figured as much since he'd said they had no id, but then again, she hadn't been first on the scene. She didn't know what they'd asked, who they'd spoken to. She hated playing catch up. She was supposed to be the primary. Holder shouldn't be filling her in. She should know all of this already, should have walked through it by now. "Then maybe it was registered to our killer. What's the name?"
"That's where this gets good."
"Spit it out, Holder," Linden ordered, losing her patience. She didn't have the time to put up with him, not right now.
"The room happens to belong to the game's MVP."
"Holder, what is with you and the damn game?" she demanded. "Did you have money on the game or what?"
"I watched it with a few friends. Look, the Hawks got this player. Always in the news. Huge name, huge personality. History of violence. Everyone knows he's in therapy," Holder went on. "Guy looks good for it. Hell, he looks like the perfect type."
"There's no such thing, Holder," she told him, taking another look at the body. The Larsen case was still fresh in her mind. Do we have this guy in custody?"
"Not exactly."
"We have a name. This is his room. His prints are probably all over this place. If he's not our killer, then he damn well knows something, and I want him in our interrogation room, now."
"Thought you'd say that. Been looking forward to you taking on the man in black."
Linden frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about now?"
Holder led Linden into the room next to the crime scene, opening the door for her. He really had been looking forward to this. He shouldn't, he supposed, because he hadn't gotten anywhere near this bastard in black, but he thought she'd have better luck. She was a damn good ball buster.
Terrence King was still sitting on the bed, a hand holding an ice pack to his forehead, just above a cut that was bleeding. Linden gave him a cold look. The guy did look like he'd been in a fight with their vic, but he sure as hell wasn't talking. The man in black wasn't about to let that happen.
"You're Terrence King?"
"He's clearly in need of medical attention and will not be answering your questions until he sees a doctor," the man in black said, drawing Linden's attention for the first time. Holder watched her assess the man.
"Who are you?" Linden demanded. "Mr. King's lawyer?"
The man gave her a slight smile as he shook his head. "No."
"Oh, dog, you're gonna wish he was," King said. The man in black shot him a look, and King looked down at the floor. Holder exchanged a look with Linden. She turned back to the man in black.
"You didn't answer my question."
"And you have yet to make arrangements for him to see a doctor. The team travels with one, but your officers won't let him through," the man in black said. "If you want cooperation, let him in to examine Terrence."
"If you want that, I suggest you answer my question. Who are you?"
"Officially, I act as the Hawks' head of security. My job is to protect my people. Whatever the circumstances of Mr. King's involvement in this woman's death, denying him medical attention can and will hurt your case," the man in black went on. "You can continue to play it like this, but it will not go in your favor."
"That's right," King said, sounding loopy. "You don't mess with the man."
"Furthermore, I believe that Mr. King may have been exposed to some kind of drug, and the longer you delay the doctor, the more you deny him what you're supposed to strive for. Justice. Lawyers are about to get involved. This is about to get ugly. I don't think you want that."
"You planning on giving me a name any time soon?"
"Greg Jackson. Team's doctor. Get him. Now," the man in black answered. He took out a phone. "Xeno, bring Jackson up. I don't care how many people you have to push him through. TK is injured and no one seems to listen to me. Funny, but the whole world is not afraid of me. Yes, perhaps they should be. Just get him up here."
He ended the call and looked back at Linden. "As I said before, you can have full cooperation when he has had medical attention. Not before, and you are trying my patience for later."
"Detective Holder," Linden began, not looking at him, her eyes still on the man in black. "You have information about the Hawks?"
"Not much."
"I told you we would cooperate if you would see to his injuries. You are treating him as a suspect, aren't you? You have not even spoken to him. Conviction before any preliminary interview, is that what we're looking at here? Then we're done. You will speak to the team's lawyers and have no further contact with Terrence until after they arrive."
"You are not helping his case."
"On the contrary, I think I am saving not only his reputation but his life," the man in black said, moving to become a physical barrier between them and King. "You could have done this without the lawyers. You could have made it easy on yourselves. But since you clearly want it complicated, you've forced my hand. You will not like our lawyers. No one does."
"Nico," King said, pulling on the man's coat. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
"You may have a concussion. You may also be reacting to the drugs," the man in black said, helping King to his feet and into the bathroom.
Linden turned to Holder. "We're going to need information on this guy."
Holder looked at her, taking out a cigarette. "You know, I thought you might get something from him. I think all you did was piss him off."
"You weren't exactly helping," she reminded him coldly, and she gave him that look again. They were going to have a talk later. He knew that. He knew that she knew. About the photo. She'd dropped enough hints, not that her coming back wasn't suspicious enough in the first place. "Find out what you can about him. I want to know how he is involved in all of this."
"Detective? I've got a couple men here. One says he's the team's doctor. The other... well, he doesn't say much, but he's determined to get by."
"Let the doctor in," Linden ordered. "And then I want that man in interrogation as soon as the doctor has seen him."
The doctor passed by them. "Nico?"
"In here. I'm not sure if it's a concussion or a drug in his system. I lean toward the drug given the memory loss, but I don't have the ability to test his blood."
"You don't carry a kit? I thought that you took care of everything."
"You're the doctor. I'm not."
"But you're the legend. Prepared for everything."
Linden had moved out of the room, but Holder stuck behind, watching this Nico guy and the doctor. He needed to know what was going on. The man in black was tougher than a brick wall, and Linden was right. They needed to know what he knew about what had happened in that other room. Memory loss. So whoever Nico was, he'd gotten at least part of the story out of King.
Bastard knew more than he was saying.
"I hate lawyers," Linden muttered. Next to her, Holder grunted. He'd explained what he'd heard in the hotel room between this "Nico" and the doctor who'd examined King. Nico knew something. What he knew, he would probably never say. They had a better chance of getting information from King despite the team of lawyers now circling around him.
"They're gonna block us."
"I know that," she said, going into the interrogation room. "I am Detective Linden. My partner, Detective Holder. We need to ask you questions about the woman in your room, Mr. King."
"Our client has nothing to say at this time."
She looked at the lawyers. "Nothing to say. With a dead woman in his hotel room. She was sexually assaulted. We have DNA, and your client will have to give us a sample to compare it against. The supeona is already here."
"All of your evidence is circumstancial. It was Terrence's room, and his fingerprints and possibly even his DNA would be there simply because it was his room."
"Your client called your head of security and not the police when he discovered the body," Linden said, her eyes going to the Nico that still had no last name. "Looks suspicious."
King lifted his head. He turned to the man in the dark coat. Linden watched that. For all his speeches about the lawyers, that man was still calling the shots. He gave a slight nod. "All I know is that I woke up and she was dead. My head's pounding, I feel like I been shot again... I did the only thing I could think of. I called Nico. I don't know how she got there, but I didn't invite her in. I was on the phone, in my room, with my girl back home, and you can check that. I don't even remember finishing the conversation."
"We have confirmation that Terrence was drugged. We are willing to let a licensed hypnotist help him. It might allow him to recover more memories of the evening."
"Then we can arrange-"
"She's already on her way. Dr. Santino will be here in a few hours. And this interview is over," Nico said, walking out of the room.
Linden glared at his back as the lawyers took their client away. She was going to find out who that man was, and she was going to make him pay.