Sins of the Father

9

This chapter picks up four days after the events in the last chapter. It is now Wednesday.

SVU Squadroom

Wednesday

4pm

Her ceramic mug was cold to the touch. Picking it up, Olivia chugged back the remnants of the coffee and grimaced. "Did Munch make coffee again?" she called out across the room.

Lifting up his own mug Munch replied in mockery, "My dear, you know I would never resort to such cruelty. If you recall the last time I made a pot of that delectable brew, the squad resorted to throwing the coffee maker out the window. We didn't get a new one for a month and a half."

"Yeah. And guess who had to make the coffee runs while 1PP coughed up enough dough for a new one?" remarked Fin, glowering at his partner.

Munch turned in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Now, now, Watson, don't you see the big picture?" Contributing to free enterprise? Passing on the American dream to cute black clad barristas who can rap coffee orders faster then Eminem can rap the rhyming dictionary?"

"Well, the American dream ain't worth shit, Sherlock, if those barrista's don't know what you mean when you say, 'coffee, black.'"

"Cragen made the coffee." Elliot said as he strode in between the desks, a can of Coke in his hands. He cracked it open and sat down. "Olivia, I thought Cragen sent you home. I'll take care of the paperwork."

"I can't," she mumbled.

Elliot squinted at her. "You can't. Liv, you haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. Those circles under eyes a new make-up fad? We caught the guy. Go home."

Her hand felt the heat of her forehead. "It's that damn letter. I go home and it's there on my coffee table- "

"You mean this letter?" Elliot held up a folded piece of paper.

"Where'd you get that?"

"You left it on your desk this morning."

"What?" She didn't, did she? She rewinded back to early this morning when the call came in. God, she did take it with her. Stuck it in her jacket pocket, and later left it on her desk when they got a lead. The briefest glimmer of surprise on her face was quickly replaced with an annoyed look.

"I didn't read it." Elliot raised his hands in surrender. "Honest."

Olivia sighed, "Go ahead, I could use a different perspective." Reading it a thousand times only frustrated her. Nothing. It led her nowhere closer to the truth. Maybe Elliot could shed some light on things.

He unfolded it and read the faded ink:

My Dear Serena, Did you get the letters I sent you? I haven't heard from you since I met you at the University. In six weeks I'll be home. I was sort of thinking I could see you again. My buddy Bruce said I could stay with him while I set up shop in New York City. I'm too old to be a soldier. I really want to settle down, have a family. Can't wait for my discharge papers.

I hope to see you soon. This shit-hole of a place really takes a lot out of a person. It's a pointless war for a lost cause. So much death, so much sickness. So much mud and rain and blood. I need to see you. When I remember your smile, I forget everything bad that I've done, that's been done to me. I need to see you.

In six weeks I'll be on a train to New York City. I'll come visit you. I can't wait.

If Nam doesn't kill me,

Not being with you will.

Joe

"What's your take?" asked Olivia The coffee mug cradled in her hands, although empty, somehow reasurred her.