The Calm Before

TEN HOURS BEFORE - 17:00

The precinct was relatively quiet as the detectives worked—that is, until Fox slammed down his mouse in frustration. At Cash's raised eyebrow, he explained, "It won't work."

"Relax, the system's just slow," Cash said, looking back down at his computer screen. But upon realizing that Fox was scowling at him, he looked back up. "What now?"

"I was just wondering if you knew how insufferably condescending you are or if I'm breaking the news to you right now," Fox told him.

"Funny. You should do stand up," Cash told him.

"I'll consider it," Fox told him. Then, he continued, "How are we supposed to work if the computers won't?"

"You need to practice a little patience. That would be my suggestion," Cash said, turning back to his computer.

"I wanna punch you right now."

"Ooh! And maybe a little anger management too."

Ignoring that comment, Fox decided to shut down his computer and turn it back on to see if that helped anything. While he was waiting, he turned to Cash. "Gray, did you know anything special about Pierce from the previous investigation? Anything you didn't mention? What his favorite color is? Anything?"

"Uh, no, sorry. Didn't find out what his favorite color was. Why? Were you gonna make him a cake? Throw his favorite color of frosting on top?" he teased Fox. At the you-know-what-I-mean look from his partner, he added, "No, I...I told you everything basically. All I had on Pierce were his parents, Frederick and Cassandra, who both committed suicide in '90, and an older sister, Adelia, who died in '96, whose death was also ruled a suicide," Cash repeated, for what felt like the thousandth time.

"And was that a coincidence?"

"Well, in April, I talked to the detectives who ran the case back in the '90s, but no dice. They told me they had 'no probable cause to assume it was a murder', which, I naturally assumed was bullshit, but, supposedly, that was all they could tell me without a captain signing off," Cash remembered. "But, uh, something was hinky. You can trust me on that."

"Wait, so why didn't you just get the Cap to sign off?" Fox asked as this seemed like a simple thing to do, considering their captain was quite lenient as long as a good reason was given and whatever was requested was being done to achieve justice.

"You're forgetting, Fox," Cash reminded him, "at this point, I was doing this on the down-low. Remember? FBI took over after the murder in Milwaukee crossed state lines."

"Oh, right," Fox recalled. He looked up at Cash before he said in awe, "I couldn't and still can't believe you'd risk your life for one dude. I mean, I know we risk our lives everyday, but you went in unprepared with no backup—almost like you were trying to be killed."

Cash shrugged. "I had to do it alone. It was the only way to stay on the case, and I wasn't gonna stop until he was dead or in jail, which are still my standards. And I will still risk anything and everything to get this guy. I mean, he'd already killed thirty-two women, Fox, now, thirty-four. But, I thought that was more than enough. You disagree?" At the negative shake of the head from Fox, he continued, "Anyway, I had to go with coincidence because I never found anything on the contrary. I did consider, however, that it could've also been a trigger, why he became a murderer. Or maybe he was a murderer and that's why they all killed themselves. Or maybe—"

"—he killed them?" Fox finished, knowing where his partner was heading.

Cash nodded. "But, I mean, that's all I had before I got the tip telling me his location. I tailed him, albeit rather ignorantly considering. He went, on foot, 'round a corner, and me—being the superb detective that I am—I followed him, on foot. But, unbeknownst to me, he knew he was being followed, so when I turned the corner—pow! He hit me square in the nose. Broke it, in fact, if you'll remember! And, then, you know, we brawled a bit before—and at this point, I'm already on my knees—he whipped out the knife and placed it damned dastardly into my hip, so all you could make of it was the haft. But, before he could successfully make me his thirty-third victim, truly serendipitously, you showed up with back up and Pierce, predictably, ran, knowing he was outnumbered. At the very essence of his being, he's a coward—smart, but a coward."

After a pause, Fox kidded, "Serendipitously? That on your Word of the Day calendar?"

Cash threw an entertained smile at his partner, before he uttered, "Oh, you think you're funny? That—Shut up, Hart."

The lighthearted smile seemed to literally fall from his face as Fox tried to take all that in. It was a lot. Cash had never told him what had led him to that abandoned alley nor what had happened before rescue came. The truth most definitely was: Cash Grayson would've been dead that night had Fox not traced his phone. And tracing his phone may have been an underhanded move, but, after two weeks of his disappearing without any form of excuse, Fox felt it was warranted.

"Why didn't you tell me any of that?" Fox asked, slightly hurt.

Cash's eyes widened at this out of the blue question, as this was not the response he was expecting at all. Then, he understood the distress in the sapphire eyes that looked down dejectedly. "Hey, look at me, Foxtrot." When Fox did, he continued, "It wasn't about trust," Cash explained slowly. "It was me. I wasn't ready. Okay?"

After a few seconds, Fox nodded. "I, uh, I understand, I suppose," he admitted softly.

"Okay," Cash said, with a nod, slightly unsure if the other man was telling the truth or if he was just appeasing him. "Okay."