just_muse_me: 14.4.4. Connection.
[This 'ties' with a case that is going around in sixwordstories; Catherine = willows_csilv and is used with permission from her lovely mun. <3]
"Jake are you listening to me?"
"Hm? Yeah." Jake blinked as he realized that Charlie had just asked him something, even if he had already answered simply out of habit, and he frowned as he turned to his partner's desk where he was sitting with a frown of his own. "What?"
Charlie sighed. "What are you working on now?"
Turning his attention back to the computer screen, Jake waited as the feed began to load. "A case."
"I didn't hear anything come in."
"That's because it didn't. I'm helping out a friend." Even without looking at him he could already feel Charlie's questioning look on him, because Jake wasn't really one to have any sort of friends lately. "Yeah, you heard right. Her daughter's missing. Th--"
The words were cut off as the feed began to play, and he saw Catherine's daughter shackled, blindfolded, and sitting in some sort of clear container that kept getting filled with water. Now it was half full and, as it always happened with cases that involved children, Jake's stomach clenched unconsciously.
"Your little boy didn't put up a fight. And, if it's any consolation, he didn't suffer."
It hadn't been any consolation when Ian Randal had informed him of that fact. He remembered the inconsolable rage he felt, the overwhelming helplessness. It had been four years since that day, almost five next month, and he still felt it. His family had been abducted, and he had lost his son. He refused to let Catherine, or anyone else, go through that same pain.
"Is that the kid?" Charlie asked quietly, probably already guessing the thoughts that were running through Jake's head. "...is that water?"
Jake simply nodded, his jaw clenching tightly as he continued examining the feed. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, no words managed to come out as something clicked in his head and he began to truly study the place where Catherine's daughter was being kept. He had seen those walls behind the tub where the girl was. He had seen those same marks that had been done with spray paint, and the boarded up windows.
At a speed that made Charlie take a step back, Jake opened the filing cabinet at the bottom of his desk and dug out a folder that was filled with papers and pictures. The second that Charlie caught the label of 'I. Randal,' he frowned. "What the hell--"
"It's the same fuckin' warehouse," Jake said quickly, and when he came across the picture he had been looking for, he held it up next to the screen. In the picture there was a body of a woman that had been tortured and killed, but the background was exactly as it had been. "It's a couple of hours away from here." He looked up at Charlie, and when he caught his skeptic look, Jake almost glared. "Remember when we found this body? It's the same. fuckin'. warehouse."
Jake should know. He had studied every picture of Randal's case to a point where he knew every death, every laceration to every body, every hiding spot that Ian Randal had come up with. He had memorized them long before his son had been killed. He had burned it in his memory afterwards, too.
"Jake--"
But Jake was already standing, reaching for his coat. "Call up a team for me. And get a plane ticket for Catherine Willows."
"She's your friend?"
"From Vegas to here," Jake responded with a nod, "the first one they have."
Charlie was quiet for a second. "What if it's not really that warehouse? You're going to make her fly all the way out here for nothing? If we get a someone to examine that--"
With a dry and humorless chuckle, Jake pointed at the screen. "You want to wait until someone examines that? I don't think the kid has that long." Charlie looked over at the screen, and at the picture, but for Jake's taste he was already taking too long. Picking up his keys, he headed towards the door of the station as quickly as he could and dialing Catherine's number. It would take four to five hours until her flight could make it to Boston, but he wasn't going to keep her in the dark.
As the phone began to ring, waiting for Catherine to pick up, he heard Charlie walking behind him and already gathering a team to back them up. And, from the sound of it, Charlie remembered as well as he did all the details because he was already giving an exact location of where the warehouse was.
"Catherine?" Jake said as soon as he heard the click of the phone. "I think I found something."
"Jake are you listening to me?"
"Hm? Yeah." Jake blinked as he realized that Charlie had just asked him something, even if he had already answered simply out of habit, and he frowned as he turned to his partner's desk where he was sitting with a frown of his own. "What?"
Charlie sighed. "What are you working on now?"
Turning his attention back to the computer screen, Jake waited as the feed began to load. "A case."
"I didn't hear anything come in."
"That's because it didn't. I'm helping out a friend." Even without looking at him he could already feel Charlie's questioning look on him, because Jake wasn't really one to have any sort of friends lately. "Yeah, you heard right. Her daughter's missing. Th--"
The words were cut off as the feed began to play, and he saw Catherine's daughter shackled, blindfolded, and sitting in some sort of clear container that kept getting filled with water. Now it was half full and, as it always happened with cases that involved children, Jake's stomach clenched unconsciously.
"Your little boy didn't put up a fight. And, if it's any consolation, he didn't suffer."
It hadn't been any consolation when Ian Randal had informed him of that fact. He remembered the inconsolable rage he felt, the overwhelming helplessness. It had been four years since that day, almost five next month, and he still felt it. His family had been abducted, and he had lost his son. He refused to let Catherine, or anyone else, go through that same pain.
"Is that the kid?" Charlie asked quietly, probably already guessing the thoughts that were running through Jake's head. "...is that water?"
Jake simply nodded, his jaw clenching tightly as he continued examining the feed. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, no words managed to come out as something clicked in his head and he began to truly study the place where Catherine's daughter was being kept. He had seen those walls behind the tub where the girl was. He had seen those same marks that had been done with spray paint, and the boarded up windows.
At a speed that made Charlie take a step back, Jake opened the filing cabinet at the bottom of his desk and dug out a folder that was filled with papers and pictures. The second that Charlie caught the label of 'I. Randal,' he frowned. "What the hell--"
"It's the same fuckin' warehouse," Jake said quickly, and when he came across the picture he had been looking for, he held it up next to the screen. In the picture there was a body of a woman that had been tortured and killed, but the background was exactly as it had been. "It's a couple of hours away from here." He looked up at Charlie, and when he caught his skeptic look, Jake almost glared. "Remember when we found this body? It's the same. fuckin'. warehouse."
Jake should know. He had studied every picture of Randal's case to a point where he knew every death, every laceration to every body, every hiding spot that Ian Randal had come up with. He had memorized them long before his son had been killed. He had burned it in his memory afterwards, too.
"Jake--"
But Jake was already standing, reaching for his coat. "Call up a team for me. And get a plane ticket for Catherine Willows."
"She's your friend?"
"From Vegas to here," Jake responded with a nod, "the first one they have."
Charlie was quiet for a second. "What if it's not really that warehouse? You're going to make her fly all the way out here for nothing? If we get a someone to examine that--"
With a dry and humorless chuckle, Jake pointed at the screen. "You want to wait until someone examines that? I don't think the kid has that long." Charlie looked over at the screen, and at the picture, but for Jake's taste he was already taking too long. Picking up his keys, he headed towards the door of the station as quickly as he could and dialing Catherine's number. It would take four to five hours until her flight could make it to Boston, but he wasn't going to keep her in the dark.
As the phone began to ring, waiting for Catherine to pick up, he heard Charlie walking behind him and already gathering a team to back them up. And, from the sound of it, Charlie remembered as well as he did all the details because he was already giving an exact location of where the warehouse was.
"Catherine?" Jake said as soon as he heard the click of the phone. "I think I found something."