Cindy/Lindsay Fic
Part 2
She prided herself on being good at reading people. It helped in her line of work. And although some people, or one person in particular, were harder to make sense of, she thought she did fairly well. When Jill walked into her room the next morning, even the densest person would have known what was to come. Bracing herself, she waited for Jill to say it.
And she wasn’t disappointed. “So, I heard you had a visitor last night?” A smug smile on her face, Jill planted herself on the edge of Cindy’s bed.
Cindy simply shrugged in response, not having much to add to that. “Yeah,” she offered.
“And?” Jill raised her eyebrows in response, looking at her expectantly.
“Nothing; she just came by to check on me.”
As far as having an idea, that was all she knew about last night herself. For anything else, she would have to wait for Lindsay to return. And she was waiting. Anxiously. She had questions, lots of questions, and she preferred to discuss them with Lindsay first. Although, she wasn’t even sure when or if Lindsay would stop by anytime soon.
“In the middle of the night?” Jill asked, repeating one of the questions Cindy had been wondering about half the night.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Cindy replied, “Why don’t you ask Lindsay?”
“Touchy subject, huh?” Jill was surprised by her reaction, and yet, she had a small smirk on her face as if she knew exactly what was getting to Cindy.
“I’m not a mind reader, okay.” She sounded testier than she had intended to. “I have no idea what is going on in Lindsay’s head.”
“Hey, I was just asking.” Jill held up her hands in surrender.
Cindy closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know; I’m sorry.”
Feeling a warm hand squeeze hers gently, she opened them again to find Jill watching her with concern. She offered her a weak smile, hoping it would convince her that she was fine.
“She’s getting to you, huh?”
“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I don’t understand her - at all,” she added frustrated.
“If it’s any consolation, neither does anyone else.” This, followed by the grin on Jill’s lips, managed to produce a smile of her own.
“Not much,” she replied, but couldn’t stop the smile from growing.
“She’ll come around eventually.”
Jill’s words were followed by a long silence. Stumped by them, Cindy tried to work out their meaning, highly aware of her mind constructing its own theory just because she wanted to hear it. The longing for something to be true had its way of reading more into sentences and even more in-between the lines. And just because you wanted something didn’t mean it was actually true.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she smiled shyly at Jill, wondering if she should voice her thoughts. Wary of the consequences, she only managed a sheepish shrug that could have been interpreted as anything. Once the admission was out there, she wouldn’t be able to take it back; something she didn’t feel quite ready to do at the moment.
“She left me here for a date,” she replied bitterly, avoiding the questions left behind Jill’s words, choosing the safer road by changing the topic. “Didn’t seem she cared much then, so why come back?”
“You scared us,” Jill answered, “We were all worried.”
Not satisfied by that, Cindy continued probing, “You didn’t seem too worried.”
Jill sighed deeply, a frown settling on her forehead and for a moment, Cindy feared she had said too much, pushed one button too many. She didn’t want to anger her friend but the part that got hurt by the treatment from her friends, mostly Lindsay’s, still stung a bit too much.
“We all deal differently, Cindy,” she said in a voice that made Cindy feel like a scolded teenager, “And Lindsay deals by… putting some distance between herself and the source of her worries.”
Despite herself, Cindy couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at the diplomacy of Jill’s response. If she had to describe her friend’s behaviour, she probably would have used ‘running away’ instead; as unfair as it might have been.
“I guess,” she offered as a reply. There wasn’t much left to add. Nothing that wouldn’t reveal more than she wanted. No questions of the nature of Lindsay’s worries and if they could mean more than she allowed herself to imagine. Those were places too dangerous to go.
“Listen,” Jill started, catching Cindy’s attention immediately, “I know as much as you what goes on in Lindsay’s head but I wouldn’t give up.”
“What?” Cindy managed to splutter, just a bit too quick and too loud, before she caught herself. Her eyes were wide and a faint blush was grazing her cheeks.
Jill just smirked at her, leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead before getting of the bed. “I have to go now; work’s calling.”
“What’s with all the forehead-kissing lately?” Cindy called after her, a trace of indignation tinging her tone. “I’m not a sick child,” she complained, completely forgetting about Jill’s cryptic response.
“Yes, you are,” Jill replied over her shoulder. “You’re twelve.”
And as if to prove Jill’s point, Cindy’s answer was simply sticking out her tongue at her, nullifying any argument she might have had after that.
***
When she walked into the morgue, Jill was already there, sitting with more than necessary distance to the autopsy table. Taking a closer look at the cut open body of the victim, Lindsay couldn’t really blame her for it.
“Okay, bring me up to date,” Lindsay offered as greeting.
“Well,” Claire paused and looked up at her, “As I already said yesterday, she definitely was strangled,” she said, indicating the now purple ligature marks across the woman’s neck. “And petechial hemorrhage,” she added, lifting her eyelids slightly to show Lindsay. “Doesn’t get any clearer than that.”
Not surprised by the words, Lindsay went on to the next question, “Was she raped?”
“Yes, there are clear signs of it,” Claire replied, “Bruises on her thighs and vaginal tearing, as well as several more superficial scrapes and cuts; very likely defensive wounds.”
“Any DNA?” Lindsay asked, hoping to have something to go on.
“Possibly,” Claire stated, lifting the victims hand, “There seems to be some skin and blood underneath her nails; maybe we’re lucky.” Removing the evidence carefully from under the nails, she placed them in a evidence bag and sealed it. “Let’s get it tested, huh?”
“Good, that’s at least something.” Lindsay gave her two friends a smile meant to be encouraging. “If you get some DNA, run it through the database.” Receiving an affirming nod from Claire, she continued, “Any other evidence?”
“Just her personal belongings; they’re being processed as we speak.”
“Okay,” she turned to Jill, “I need you to get me her financial records; maybe that will give us some idea if it was personal.”
“You’ll have it by noon,” Jill promised.
“Good,” Lindsay sighed, “Now I’m off to notify her parents. And then Jacobi and I will stop by her apartment.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing she could skip the parents part. She definitely could do without this part of her job. “If that is all…” she left the rest hanging, turning to leave.
“Actually,” Jill interjected and Lindsay halted. “You’re stopping by at the hospital later?”
“Maybe,” Lindsay shrugged, offering a nonchalant reply. She did plan on going to see Cindy again but for some reason, she didn’t want to own up to it at the moment.
“Second date, Linz?” Jill grinned and Lindsay could see Claire trying to hide one of her own. “Don’t forget the flowers!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lindsay replied, glaring at her.
Ignoring Lindsay, Jill went on, “Maybe a stuffed animal?”
“Jill!” Lindsay snapped at her.
“What?”
“Would you stop? It’s not a date,” she said with exasperation, “And this is not even remotely appropriate here.”
Stunned, Jill looked at her for a moment before a slow smirk spread on her face. “Where would it be appropriate? Cause we can take it there…”
“I so don’t have time for this,” Lindsay groaned, giving Jill another glare before making a hurried exit.
“Well, that was fun.” She could hear Jill chuckle.
***
“I’m really sorry about your loss.” Lindsay watched the mother lean against her husband, burying her face in his shoulder while he wrapped his arms around her in a protective and consoling gesture. She wished she knew what to say but there wasn’t anything she could do to make things better. All there was, was catching the killer and hoping that it would bring the victim’s family some kind of closure. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about your daughter.”
Mr. Winters looked up at her and nodded; his eyes were red and Lindsay guessed he was barely holding on while he tried to help his wife cope. “What do you want to know?”
“Was your daughter dating anyone?” Lindsay started. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Jacobi take out his pad to take notes, leaving her with the questions to ask.
“Not that we were aware of,” Mr. Winters answered. “She just recently got out of a relationship.”
“Can you give us a name?” An ex was always worth looking into.
“Chloe Jones, but she was a sweet girl. You surely can’t think she had anything to do with it,” Mrs. Winters interjected before her husband had a chance to answer. “And I think she moved back to Atlanta when they split.”
She watched Jacobi jot down the name, making a mental note to follow up with it later. It seemed unlikely that she could have anything to do with it but you could never be too careful. A simple background check couldn’t hurt anyone.
“Can you think of anyone that would want to hurt your daughter?” As a reply she only received a head shake, so she reformulated her question, “Has she received any threats?”
“No,” he replied.
“Okay, can you give us some names of her friends so we can talk to them?” Lindsay asked. “Friends she might have hung out with yesterday?”
Both, Mr. and Mrs. Winters nodded their heads, affirming her question and started listing a few of them. Reminding them to provide phone numbers if they had them, Lindsay could only guess how long it would take them to find the ones she was with the night before.
Before leaving, she asked for the spare key to their daughter’s apartment and a moment later, she had it in her hand. So far, they had no real clue as to what happened to Jessica but it looked more like they had to look either at one of her friends more closely, or go looking for a complete stranger. The latter one didn’t give her much hope if he wasn’t in the system already.
“Head back to the station first?” Jacobi asked as they were leaving the Winters’ home.
“Yeah, I want to see if Jill has Jessica’s financial and phone records,” Lindsay replied, handing over the keys to him.
An hour later, she was at her desk, poring over financial statements that didn’t contain anything relevant or of slight interest. A glance at Jacobi told her that he wasn’t having any more luck than she was. He had a slight frown on his face, flipping over a page only to go back to, scribbling something down and then went back to the records.
“Want to go check out her apartment?” she offered, hoping he would agree so that they could get out of there for a while. Maybe they would find something that could help them though she wasn’t going to hold her breath waiting for it.
“Can’t be any more of a waste of time than this,” Jacobi agreed, grabbing his jacket to follow her.
Part 3