Fractured (Broken Part 2)

Bad Manners

"Malcolm? What's wrong?" I answered my phone.
"How long until you're done at the salon?" He asked.
"I just walked out. What is it?" I asked again.
"They found another victim. Can you meet us?"
"That's two in twenty-four hours."
"He's not slowing down." Malcolm sighed.
"Send me the address. I'll be right there."
"Hey. I love you." He said.
"I love you too."
I drove straight out to the park where the body lay in a glassless structure on a brick floor.
"Excuse me, Lieutenant. Does the NYPD have any leads on The Bridal Butcher's identity?" A woman's voice called for Gil as I walked towards him and Malcolm.
"I can confirm that we have no comment at this time." Gil said pointedly.
"Can Major Crimes confirm that this is the Butcher's second victim?" Ainsley appeared before him.
He looked at her then at Malcolm before shaking his finger at her. He walked away towards me.
"Dr. Russell!" The first voice called my name as Gil walked up to me.
"How did you beat us here?" He asked as we turned to walk together back to the body.
"I wasn't far. I'd just finished getting my cut and color for the wedding Thursday night." I answered.
"Where is everyone? You know I like to share these things with my friends." Malcolm asked walking up to wrap his arm around me.
"JT's meeting with his union rep and we lost Dani to vice. It's just us three, kid. And Edrisa. What do we have?" Gil answered then looked at her.
"Oh, it's my own creation. It's a macchiato and a nonalcoholic Four Loko. It will mess you up, but in a good way." She laughed holding her cup.
"You mean the body, don't you?" She looked at us.
"Yeah." Gil sighed.
"Young woman, early twenties." She said.
I looked down at the woman, younger than Ainsley, dressed in a long white dress with white elbow-length gloves.
"Any sexual trauma?" Gil asked.
"No. No marks of any kind. Even the small birthmark at her neck was covered with makeup." Edrisa answered.
"Same as the last victim. Our killer has a thing for perfection." I sighed looking at Malcolm.
"We ran down the dress from the first body, no bridal shop recognized it. Must be custom. I'll bet this is the same." Malcolm nodded.
"There's an access road nearby. Killer didn't have to drag the body far. Same as last time." Gil told us.
"They took their time. Posed to perfection. This was curated. No, designed." Malcolm observed.
"So who are we looking for?" Gil asked looking between us.
"Most likely a man. Thirties, maybe forties, with some serious psychosexual issues. The victims were dressed as brides for a reason. Maybe to appear virginal. Unspoiled." Malcolm began.
"Unobtainable." Edrisa added.
"Yes. Rejection is a powerful motivator." Malcolm said.
"So our killer won't take no for an answer?" Gil asked.
"Gil... we have a serial killer on our hands." Malcolm said.
Gil and I both hated when he said that. It never once ended well for us.
Malcolm and I walked over to a food truck.
"I like the blonde." Malcolm said toying with my hair.
"I thought you might. I wanted a more traditional look. I've been thinking about it for awhile now." I answered leaning into him.
"Hi. Can I get a package of Twizzlers, please?" Malcolm asked the food truck chef.
"And two lamb gyros, please." I added glaring at my soon-to-be husband.
"What?" He asked after we got the food.
"You know what. I can always tell when your struggling when you're only eating Twizzlers and other processed sugars." I sighed.
"Hey. Hey. What was that back there? You're stonewalling me." Ainsley confronted Malcolm.
"I'm doing my job." Malcolm's arm tightened around me.
"Okay, you're avoiding us, And don't say it's because you're chasing a new serial killer. What did Mom do this time?" Ainsley pushed.
"Nothing." Malcolm said after a pause.
Ever since Jessica confronted us about Ainsley's involvement in Endicott's death we threw ourselves into work and wedding planning.
"Lily and I are finalizing the wedding plans for Thursday and there's a new killer on the loose. We're just busy."
"Come on. Give me something. You can avoid me all you want, but not before you give me a lead. The dresses. Do you know where they're from?" Ainsley asked.
"We don't. Only that the dresses and the gloves are custom." I admitted beside him.
"Gloves? Were they elbow-length?" She asked.
"Yeah. Why?" Malcolm asked.
"Those aren't brides. Those are debutantes. I got to go. Love you guys." She rushed off.
"Debutantes." Malcolm muttered.
"The only running school in New York is Windsor School of Etiquette." I answered.
"Bet that's what she's thinking too." Malcolm sighed.
"Without a doubt." I chuckled handing him one of the gyros and taking the package of Twizzlers.
"Half." I pushed.
"Fine. Then licorice?"
"Come on." I chuckled leading him to my car.
We met Gil back at the morgue to check on the autopsy.
"Edrisa, have any updates for us?" Gil asked as we walked in the door.
Edrisa stood in the corner chugging an energy drink. Counting down from four with her fingers.
"Are you okay?" I asked watching her.
"Sorry. Coffee stopped working an hour ago. Now I'm drinking this stuff straight." She grinned at me.
"Both vics had the date rape drug Rohypnol in their systems?" Malcolm asked beside me.
"But that's not what killed them." I added.
"Correct. Uh, both women died of asphyxiation. My hunch is that the killer used a debreather." She answered.
"Debreather?" Gil asked.
"They're normally used in assisted suicide. Form follows function. Rohypnol to incapacitate them, the debreather to kill them. All so they wouldn't leave a mark." I answered.
"Um, are we sure this ID is correct?" Malcolm asked looking through the file.
"Well, the family identified her a half hour ago. Why?" She looked over at him.
"Look at her eyes." He answered.
"Oh, wow! Heterochromia iridum." Edrisa exclaimed.
"In English? " Gil sighed..
"Her eyes are different colors. Generally, one is blue and the other one is brown." I chuckled softly.
"Like Max Scherzer. The Nationals pitcher. Three-time Cy Young winner. World Series champion! Where's JT?" Edrisa chuckled nervously.
"Right, but in your report, you said that she had... Two blue eyes." Malcolm read.
"Yeah, two blue eyes." She nodded then walked over and opened her eyes
"He replaced the brown one. This isn't about rejection for our killer." I said looking at Malcolm.
"It's about idealization. They had to make Allison perfect." Malcolm nodded.
Edrisa took a metal tool and struck the replaced eye making a clink noise. The eye was glass.
"And suddenly I'm wide-awake." Gil muttered.
"Twizzlers?" Malcolm looked at me as we walked towards the elevator.
"Did you eat half the gyro?" I asked.
"I did." He promised.
I handed him his package of Twizzlers.
JT stood talking to another detective when the elevator doors opened on the Major Crimes floor.
"Licorice?" Malcolm asked when he joined us.
"No. No lollipops, no licorice. What is it with you and candy anyway?" JT sighed.
"Processed sugar creates a strong dopamine response in the brain, essential for both those in pursuit of deranged murderers and insomniacs." Malcolm explained with a grin.
"I did get him to eat half a gyro. How was your meeting with the union?" I asked.
"That's why you're marrying him. It went great. If I make my complaint against O'Malley official, we both get suspended for twenty days." He sighed.
"But you didn't do anything wrong." Malcolm looked at me.
"Yeah. And the the force is always gonna protect itself." JT sighed.
"Whatever you decide to do. It doesn't effect my investigation." I told him.
"You don't need a formal complaint?" He asked.
"I'm FBI. I don't need NYPD's cooperation to investigate an officer's misconduct. That's the point of it." I answered.
He paused for a moment considering that.
"Let's work. The glass eye in the victim.. It's not medical. They aren't meant for humans. They're doll eyes." He changed the subject handing me a file.
"Like toy dolls?" Malcolm asked.
"Yeah, I thought that'd grab your attention. I'm chasing down local doll makers." He looked at Malcolm.
"These killings are about the illusion of perfection, but it's childlike, juvenile. We're looking for someone with an arrested development and probably deep childhood trauma." Malcolm looked at me.
"Turns out Allison Vinhouse and Trina Chandler both participated in debutante balls in high school. And they also both went here, the Windsor School of Etiquette." Gil said walking into the room.
"Lily and my sister went there, too." Malcolm told them.
I glared at him. I'd failed out of Windsor in less than a year.
"Then you two take the school. JT and I will take a run at the doll maker." Gil said leading JT out of the room.
"Dr. Whitly?" Malcolm answered his ringing phone.
"Malcolm, it's Dad! Where you been, bud? Thought we had a good thing going here, you know? Solving crimes, cracking jokes. We were partners, just like the old... Starky and... uh, Tubbs!" Martin said as Malcolm put the phone on speaker so I could hear.
"You're mixing your buddy cops." Malcolm chuckled softly.
"Well, you know me... I always root for the bad guy. Now, speaking of scary people, you really should have told me that your mother had found out about the... Ainsley thing."
My heart skipped a beat.
"What happened?" Malcolm asked looking at me.
"Uh, well, I'd rather not get into it over the phone, but, uh... she's got this fakakta plan to hide Ainsley in some posh European resort, away from us." Martin complained.
"I can promise you neither Ainsley nor mom are going anywhere three days before the wedding. Plus, Ainsley's not going anywhere when there's a serial killer dropping bodies. It's too good of a story."
"Indeed. Uh, speaking of The Bridal Butcher, I have thoughts." Martin said.
"They're not brides. His victims were debutantes." I finally cut in.
"Debutantes? Ooh. Now I have more thoughts. You know, when I worked the ER, debutante season was awash with overdoses, and attempted suicides. The pressure those girls are put under... Oh, it's criminal." Martin sighed.
"Don't remind me. It was brutal for Ains. Bullied and shunned for your crimes. Maybe that's..."
"What, debutante school changed her? All that teasing made her capable of... stuff?"
"I don't know." Malcolm sighed heavily.
"No, my boy. It wasn't my arrest. No, your sister's been like this ever since she was a little girl. You know, the drive. Those instincts. Yeah, she's made of tougher stuff." Martin said.
I automatically thought back to when Jessica told Malcolm the same thing after Ainsley's interview with The Surgeon albeit about himself.
"Because she's your daughter?" Malcolm asked
"No. Because she's her mother's." Martin answered.
I nudged him gently.
"Dr. Whitly. Lily and I need to go." Malcolm said before hanging up.
"Come on."
Malcolm and I drove out to the Windsor School.
"She doesn't want me here." I sighed looking up at the mansion.
"But I need you here." He looked at me.
"Okay. Okay. Let's go." I conceded easily.
"Hello?" Malcolm called as we walked in.
"What did they even teach you here, anyway?" He asked catching sight of his sister looking over pictures in the corner.
"Proper posture. Table manners. How to demonstrate respect towards others." Ainsley answered looking at me.
"Two out of three's not bad." Malcolm sighed.
"You're just peeved I beat you here." She accused.
"I'm annoyed because you're treating solving a murder like it's a competitive sport." Malcolm responded.
"We're brother and sister. Everything is a competitive sport." She whined.
"There are two dead women, Ainsley. How does that make you feel?" He asked.
I reached out and touched his hand.
"It... It's terrible. Why... why would you even ask me that?" She looked at her brother, her expression pained.
"I'm sorry. Places like this just remind me of the people who cut us off after Dad's arrest. Etiquette doesn't mean anything, Ains. All it does is cover up the truth." He covered for himself.
"I beg to differ. Good manners hold society together. Cultivation of civility allowed European cultures to flourish." Ms. Sarah Windsor said walking down the stairs.
"Well, that and a healthy dose of colonialism." Malcolm responded.
"Miss Windsor, so lovely to see you again." Ainsley said rushing to stand near us.
"You as well, Miss Whitly. Miss. Russell." She glared at me.
"It's Doctor now, Miss. Windsor." I corrected.
"Yet still so disrespectful."
"I give my respect to those who have earned it."
Malcolm cleared his throat and looked at his sister.
"Please, Miss. Windsor, allow me to introduce my brother, Malcolm." She said drawing her attention from me.
"Bright. Malcolm Bright. I'm with the NYPD and Lilian is the FBI Chief. We're here about the murders of Allison Vinhouse and Trina Chandler." Malcolm continued.
"I was devastated to learn what happened. Since I've never had children of my own, I think of my students... as family."
I fought my urge to scoff.
"Of course. Can you think of any reason why someone would have killed them?" Malcolm discreetly touched my back in an attempt to calm me.
"One should never speak ill of the dead, but I did hear whispers about parties, drugs, ill behavior." She glared at me again.
"Can we see your class lists, contact numbers?" Malcolm asked.
"The parents who entrust their daughters with us expect discretion, Mr. Whitly." She looked at him.
The slip wasn't accidental. It was pointed as was everything she did.
"Bright. Just Bright." Malcolm corrected.
"You're absolutely correct. They do need to go get a warrant, but I'm sure you wouldn't object to walking an old pupil down memory lane?" Ainsley cut in.
"Miss Windsor, excuse my forwardness, but we're offering you discretion. The NYPD won't give you that courtesy. They will open every door here and read every file you have. Lilian can make one phone call and have absolutely every secret you've ever wanted to keep. But if you help us now, we can make sure that doesn't happen." Malcolm insisted.
It was a slight exaggeration. It'd probably take at least two.
"Dr. Russell, Mr. Bright, do follow me." She conceded.
Malcolm and I followed behind her and around the corner.
"Could you wait here? Guests are not allowed beyond this point." She said just beyond a doorway before turning on her heel to walk away.
Almost immediately Malcolm took a step through the doorway.
"Malcolm." I sighed reaching for him and pulling him back into the hallway.
"Doesn't she hate me enough already?"
"Lily?" Malcolm said my name looking over my shoulder.
I turned and there sitting in the light from a doorway sat a porcelain doll.
I'd seen that movie and I was ready to go.
"Sorry. I must have left her there." A young woman's voice said from behind us.
She pushed between us and picked up the doll.
"I'm Rachel, Miss Windsor's assistant. I have the admission rolls for you." She said handing Malcolm the file.
"Aren't you a little old for dolls?" Malcolm asked.
"Oh, all of the students get one. Miss Windsor believes they help model behavior. The dolls are silent and perfect. As they should be." She answered.
I almost threw up. That's why I was kicked out. I didn't fit her mold.
"Do you know who makes them?" I asked regaining my composure.
"Mr. Falvey. He's wonderful." She answered.
"Thank you." I said.
Malcolm called Gil as we walked out to the car.
"Gil, Trevor Falvey made custom dolls for the etiquette school. He's our link." Malcolm said.
"He said he'll call us back." He lowered the phone.
"We'll meet them at the precinct."
As we walked out of the elevator Officer O'Malley ran into me.
"Watch where you're going, bitch." He growled before even looking at me.
Malcolm moved to stand between us.
"Malcolm. Baby, it's alright." I laid my hand on his shoulder.
"Oh. Excuse me, Dr. Russell." O'Malley amended.
"Don't be fake, O'Malley. Show me exactly who you are. It'll make my investigation that much easier." I said before turning around.
He reached out and grabbed my arm. Malcolm grabbed his wrist and removed his hand from me.
"Do not touch her." Malcolm growled.
"Need your man to fight your battles?" He asked me over Malcolm's shoulder.
"No. I don't. At least he's man enough to respect me and want to defend me. I'm sure your wife would truly appreciate such a man. Unfortunately, she landed you." I answered.
"Malcolm. Gil's waiting in interrogation."
Malcolm released him and turned back to me.
"Let's go."
Malcolm and I met Gil in the viewing room.
"Everything okay?" He asked sensing Malcolm's anger.
"That cop touched her. He ran into her off the elevator, called her a bitch and grabbed her arm." Malcolm explained.
I touched him gently.
"Malcolm, I'm fine." I assured him.
"You can still file charges for assault on a federal official." Gil reminded me.
"What message does that send to JT? To Dani?" I asked.
"If he files a complaint he gets suspended for twenty days; I do it and something actually happens to him?" I sighed.
"That has less to do with your skin color than it does with your title." Gil said.
"But my skin color doesn't hurt my cause. No one should be punished for speaking out against a wrong." I pushed.
"You're right. It's all wrong." Gil shook his head.
"Being a rich, white woman in power shouldn't put my life above someone else's."
"Let's get this interrogation over with." Gil sighed.
"Go. We'll watch." I sighed.
"We searched your shop, Trevor. We found more human-size eyeballs. And these. Pictures of Miss Windsor's students. Lots... of pictures." Gil said walking into the interrogation room laying pictures on the table before him.
"She sent them to me. She wanted the dolls to look like her students. I'm not some sicko. I'm a doll maker." Trevor said.
"Okay, Malcolm. Go." I sent him in for his part.
"What about the sex dolls?" Gil pushed.
"I make those, too. Some guy in Osaka wants the perfect woman, I can make her. That doesn't make me a creep or a killer." He argued.
"Oh, you're a creep alright." I muttered.
The door opened and Malcolm walked in with a large evidence box.
"Oh..." He chuckled.
"Bright, we're in the middle of..." Gil started.
"Oh, good. You're still here." Malcolm set the box down on the table and pulling out the doll head.
"I got to hand it to you, Trevor, this is a work of art. Pygmalion worthy." Malcolm looked at him.
"What are you doing?" Gil asked playing his part effortlessly.
"Is this the one you tried to steal?" Malcolm asked Trevor.
"I wasn't trying to steal her." Trevor stood up.
"'Her.' Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. Who do I have the pleasure of holding here?"
"Dolores. Her name is Dolores. She was my first." Trevor answered sitting back down.
"Oh. Well, you never forget your first." Malcolm nodded.
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my own brain.
"Bright. Can I talk to you for a second?" Gil asked.
"Sure. I'll just, uh..." Malcolm set the head on the table facing him.
"Let's let him sit for a few. See how he handles the stress." Gil said when they joined me.
"You were watching the interrogation, what do you think?" He asked me.
"He has objectophilia. Or, more specifically, agalmatophilia." I answered.
"They got a word for everything." Gil muttered.
"Agalmatophiles form romantic attachments to inanimate human forms... Sculptures, dolls. He has a psychosexual patholog, but the doll is his outlet. His release." I continued.
"Makes him a bad suspect." Malcolm added
"He's not our guy, is he?" Gil asked and I shook my head.
"I'll go give him his head back." Malcolm smirked at me before leaving.
"Are you really okay?" Gil asked after he left.
"I'm fine. I'm just frustrated. I want to fix this for JT, for Dani, for every good cop, good Black cop, good Black person that's experienced this kind of discrimination and racism, but I don't know how." I sighed.
"It's hard for you to admit you don't know something." He nodded.
"Yes, but that's not it. I'm the most powerful person in New York city. I'm more powerful than the mayor. I'm even more powerful than the governor but I can't protect my friends from this. JT and Tally named me as Godmother for their son and I'm terrified that I can't protect him. Did Malcolm tell you I stopped taking my birth control?" I asked.
"No. He didn't."
"There's so much hate in this world. I want my own children and I know I can protect them but this attack on JT... It showed me that it's not so easy for everyone."
I felt a tear roll down my face.
"I know you'll raise your children to love everyone equally and only judge based on words and actions." Gil reassured me.
"It occurred to me recently that we didn't have friends that weren't white when we were kids. I didn't in Colorado either. We didn't meet Vijay until middle school." I sighed.
"That was twenty plus years ago. Parents were like that in the nineties. Especially rich parents. You just said how powerful you are but you're influential too. That's how you can change things for JT, Tally, Dani, and even Edrisa and myself. Show the world how to love. They'll follow you, Lilian." He smiled at me.
"But please remember this isn't all on you. Malcolm told me what you did for JT that night. Stepping in between them like that. That's how you show them they aren't alone in their fight. Yes, it's different for you but it's only when the powerful truly stand in defense of those discriminated against that things will actually change."
I nodded thoughtfully a moment.
"Malcolm's going to want to talk to Martin. We'll be back before the meeting with O'Malley and the union rep." I sighed.
As expected Malcolm returned and asked me to drive him out to Claremont.
"You like the doll maker?" Malcolm asked as I leaned against the wall.
"Oh! Love the doll maker. An exhibitionist objectophile? Freud would be in heaven. But he's not a killer." Martin answered glancing at me.
"What about the eyes?" Malcolm pushed.
"Don't get lost in the eyes. Your doll maker's a romantic. They don't have the commitment for serial work. But you knew that. You're here for Ainsley, aren't you?" Martin refocused on his son.
"She's treating this case like it's some sort of game. A race to find the killer." Malcolm sighed heavily.
"Worried she's gonna put the clues together and figure it all out before you?" Martin teased.
"What do you want me to do? Should I chloroform her? Is that it?" Malcolm asked pointedly.
"No, of course not. Ugh! I was wrong to do that to you. And if I haven't apologized enough, I'm sorry. I could have handled that whole mess... a lot better." Martin sighed.
"You think?" Malcolm looked at him.
"My boy, we've won. We're getting away with it. This is the fun part."
"It doesn't feel fun." Malcolm shot at him.
"Well, I wonder how it would feel for her. If my little girl knew. Well, there's a chance she'd be proud of herself. Just like I'm proud of you." Martin said.
"Do not threaten him, Martin." I growled.
"It's not a threat, Lilian. Just a statement." He smiled at me.
"Russell." I answered my ringing phone.
"Lily. We have a problem." Gil said.
"What kind of problem?" I asked drawing both Malcolm and Martin's attention.
"Ainsley found a body. Made a video." Gil answered.
"Of course she did." I sighed.
"We'll be right there."
"Lily?" Malcolm said after I hung up.
"Come on." I said knocking on the door.
Mr. David opened the door to let us out.
"Thank you." I said walking down the hallway.
"Lily. Lily, what's wrong?" Malcolm asked.
"I didn't want to say it in front of your father. Ainsley found another body. She took a live video." I answered.
I drove us back to the precinct.
"I'm Ainsley Whitly, and I've just found the third victim of New York City's newest serial killer, The Debutante Slayer. I've called the police and obscured the face of the victim. But please stay tuned for more exclusive details from the scene."
Gil, Malcolm, Ainsley, and I watched her video in the conference room.
Gil dropped the remote on the table in aggravation.
"What in the hell were you doing? And if you say 'my job', I'm gonna arrest you for obstructing a murder investigation." Gil asked her.
She took a business card out of her wallet and set it on the table sliding it towards him.
"The lawyers at ADN. They're looking forward to your call. And my brother can put you in contact with our family attorney." She said defiantly.
"Try psychiatrist. You find a body and you shoot, what, a promo? What if the killer was still there?" Malcolm exclaimed.
"Well, then the video would be much more exciting." She shot at him.
"Ainsley." I said her name as gently as I could as her phone dinged.
"How did you know Violet?" I asked touching Malcolm's arm.
"A few classes in college, but we met at Miss Windsor's school. I got in contact with every debutante I knew, especially those with drug problems and left her a message yesterday thinking it'd go nowhere. Then she called." She explained to me.
"What did she tell you?" I asked again as her phone dinged again.
"Uh, that she was scared. That's it. She wanted to talk in person." She looked up at me finally but her phone dinged once again
"Who is that?" Malcolm exclaimed pulling her attention away from me.
"I'm working." She snapped.
"My producers want updates. My agents want to use this as leverage to up my deal with the network. And the next ten texts are from Mom. Can I go now?" She looked at Gil finally.
"I want the video from that phone and a list of the girls that you called, or that phone is mine." He said.
She sighed and looked down at her phone.
"Now you have the video and screenshots of all of my texts. Now, will you please stop being sore losers and let me go back to work?" She almost growled.
"Ainsley, you're being reckless." Malcolm leaned forward gripping the back of the chair in front of him.
"Malcolm..." I said his name gently.
"Oh, my God! Are we not gonna talk about the crazy hypocrisy of you lecturing me about being reckless? Someone needs to catch this killer. It might as well be me." She yelled at him then turned on her heel and walked out.
"That was the wrong thing to do, wasn't it?" He asked me.
"Yes. It was." I sighed.
"Lily." Gil said drawing my gaze.
"It's time."
"Okay. I'm right behind you." I answered.
"Gil and I are going to a meeting with JT, O'Malley, and the department rep. Please, try to stay out of trouble." I looked at my love.
"Of course." He smiled sadly at me.
"Be careful." He leaned over and kissed me.
When I walked out of the room I saw Jessica run over to Gil.
"Is Ainsley okay? I saw the news." She asked as I walked up to them.
"She's fine." Gil said.
"Is she involved?" She glanced at me.
"Involved? How?" Gil asked.
'Um, I don't know. Uh, in no way. I'm just... I'm... I'm losing my mind, worrying." She amended gauging my expression.
"Lily. Jessica, what's going on? Both of you and Malcolm are at 11, and I've never seen Ainsley like that." He looked between us.
"I know. She's so damn willful. Her father thinks it's..." She started.
I looked at her wide eyed. I didn't know she'd been to see Martin.
"Her father? Jessica, you went to him?" Gil asked incredulously.
"It was stupid." She admitted.
"Damn right it was. Look, you don't need to talk to Martin. I'm here. Whatever you need, I'm here." Gil looked at her.
Then he looked at me. I knew we'd have to talk later.
"Boss, we got to go." JT said walking up to us.
"Got it. Where is Ainsley?" Gil asked.
"Network sent a car for her." He answered.
"I'm too late." Jessica sighed.
"I don't know. You were right on time for me." Gil smiled at her.
"We will talk later." I whispered to her before following Gil and JT to the conference room.
"Listen, no one wants this getting political or... God forbid... In the papers. So if we can get our stories straight, I think everyone'll be happy." Department Rep Colin Rush said once the four of us set down.
"You want my guy to lie." Gil accused.
"I'm no racist. Detective Tarmel was running into an active crime scene. It was dark. Could have been anyone." O'Malley nearly growled.
"Any boy?" JT shot back.
"Nobody heard that. I'm not going down for this." O'Malley continued.
I forced myself to remain silent but then he looked at me.
"I don't understand what she's doing here."
Gil began to answer but I raised my hand.
"I represent the FBI and the Internal Affairs investigation into your actions against Detective Tarmel that night and Major Crimes as a whole by refusing to respond to a call for backup in the following weeks." I answered.
"Guys, I am just trying to mediate this." Rush said as O'Malley and I stared at one another.
I felt my phone vibrate.
Ainsley went back to Windsor. I'm going after her. I love you. Malcolm's text read.
'Tarmel, if you feel the need to bring an official complaint... Which is your right... We can do that. But these things can get messy." Rush continued.
Gil's phone vibrated next.
"I don't see how it ends well for either of you." Rush concluded.
"Bright's going to the school." Gil told JT who looked over at me.
"He's gonna need backup. We're done here." JT stood up.
"We are not done here. I need an answer. Are you filing?" Rush confronted him.
"You have no right to rush him." I growled then JT set his hand on my shoulder.
"No. You're scared. That's why you're such a miserable cop. 'Cause that hatred you feel... It's poison. But I'm not gonna let it poison my life, too." JT answered looking right at O'Malley.
"Come on." He urged me towards the door.
"And now we're done." I heard Gil said smugly as I rushed towards the front door.
"Malcolm." I called his name just as he was about to get into a taxi.
"Thank you for coming." He told the driver before following me to my car.
I flipped my siren to rush through the city shutting it off at the end of the school's driveway.
Malcolm jumped out of the car and ran towards the front door.
"Rachel said she'll get Miss. Windsor." He told me anxiously when I joined him shortly after.
The door opened and Miss. Windsor looked down her nose at us.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked mostly looking at Malcolm.
"Miss Windsor, is my sister here?" He asked.
"You should have called first. Miss Whitly is not here. Good night." She almost spat at him before turning away from him.
"You're lying!" Malcolm accused catching the closing door.
"What gives you the right to..." She began turning back to look at him.
"Etiquette. You turned your back on me, a guest. Manners dictate a proper exit. You can show me the door firmly, not dismissively. You'd only risk incivility to hide another break in decorum. Lying." Malcolm explained.
"I'm not lying!" She yelled at him.
"A raised voice. And you used a contraction, which is shocking given, you know, you." I cut in.
"Who are you to judge me? I am perfectly within my right to do whatever..." She took a step towards me.
"The last victim received a call from your private line." Malcolm pulled her attention from me.
"I never use that number..." She trailed off.
"What is it?" Malcolm asked.
"Who are we looking for, Miss Windsor? Sarah, is the killer here?" I asked.
"Your sister's up in the tea room. Go." She looked at us.
"Ainsley?!" Malcolm called out for her as we ran to the tea room but she wasn't there.
"Ainsley!" He called again when we reached the bottom of the stairs again.
"Ainsley?" He said again, desperation coloring his voice.
I heard a clattering from behind the wall.
"Malcolm." I said his name motioning him over to the wall.
Muffled voices continued from behind the wall.
Malcolm and I worked together to find the door handle. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. I pulled my gun from it's holster at my hip.
"Be careful." I said as we slowly walked into the hidden hallway.
"I won't let the banks close the school. Take all of this from Miss Windsor. From us." Rachel's voice said from behind a lone door at the end of the hallway.
"Don't worry. You won't feel a thing."
Malcolm looked through the slats in the wall.
"She has the debreather." Malcolm mouthed at me just before his phone vibrated.
"You should know... I have a gun!" Rachel exclaimed.
"Is it Ainsley in there?" I asked silently to which he nodded.
"Go." I urged.
"I've got your six."
He nodded and walked to open the door as I stayed out of sight.
"You're not supposed to be in here. No man has ever been in here." Rachel stuttered looking at Malcolm.
I made my way around the room within the walls to a second door in the back of the room.
"I apologize. I'm here for Ainsley." He said pointing at her unconscious form.
"Get out!" Rachel yelled at him.
I watched him glance at some papers to his side.
"The victim's names. You crossed them out." He said calmly as I caught his eye.
My gun held firmly in my hand.
"They betrayed everything that this school stood for." She said her voice shaking slightly.
"Whose room is this, Rachel? The bed, the dolls. Who lives here?" Malcolm asked but she didn't answer him.
"Miss Windsor's your mother." He guessed.
"There are some things that people do not need to know." Rachel raised her gun, pointing it at Malcolm.
My heart leaped into my chest nearly forcing me into action. Malcolm raised his hand signaling me to wait.
"I'm not sure I agree. What if hiding the truth hurts people? Turns a person into something they are not?"
I knew he was having concerns about how hiding the truth was impacting Ainsley.
"No, she gave me a home. She loved me." Rachel countered.
"But never like the other girls. So you directed your rage towards Violet, Trina, Allison. These women that rejected the love that you craved so much. And Ainsley. She was going to expose the truth." Malcolm said.
"My mother called me her secret angel. No one can ever know the truth."
Ainsley stood up, holding a small knife in her hand. I reached over at grabbed her arm raising my finger to my mouth to keep her quiet. She sighed silently looking at me.
"Rachel, the gun is not like the debreather. It's brutal, violent." Malcolm said as I advanced on her.
"Don't worry. I'm gonna make your sister beautiful." Rachel said.
Ainsley shifted her weight causing the floor to creak beneath her.
Rachel spun around swinging the gun that I barely stopped. I slammed my fist into her ribs holding her wrist in my hand forcing it away from Ainsley and I. She pulled the trigger firing a shot into the wall.
I turned so my back pressed against her chest. I lifted her arm and slammed it against my shoulder until she dropped the gun. I crouched down slightly and pulled her arm so she flipped over my head landing hard on her back.
"Are you okay?" Malcolm asked rushing up to me.
"Yeah. Ainsley?" I asked looking at her.
"I smell gas." Malcolm said.
"What?" Ainsley asked.
"We need to get out of here. Now! Come on." I said grabbing her arm.
"Come on!" I called to Malcolm who picked up Rachel's unconscious body pulling it over his shoulders.
"Go. Run." I urged Ainsley forward towards the front door constantly checking behind me to make sure Malcolm kept up.
Ainsley stopped in front of me when we were halfway down the driveway. Malcolm stopped behind me and laid Rachel's unconscious body in the grass.
"What is she doing?" Ainsley asked looking up at Miss. Windsor standing at the window.
"Oh my God." I breathed noticing what looked like a box of matches in her hand.
"Nothing good." Malcolm said as we watched her strike a match.
In less than a second the second floor of the mansion exploded in flames. Malcolm pulled Ainsley and I towards him in an attempt to shield us from the glass and debris raining down from the explosion.
Gil and JT arrived shortly thereafter.
"Is everyone okay?" Gil asked walking over to me after the firefighters finally put out the fire.
"I think so." I nodded.
"You and Malcolm take Ainsley home and get some rest. The next two days will be a whirlwind." He smirked at me.
"Thanks Gil." I smiled at him.
"That was crazy, and that's coming from someone who knows a little something about crazy." Ainsley said when I climbed into the driver's seat.
"This city never fails to surprise me." Malcolm nodded.
"Yeah." Ainsley mused.
She sat directly behind me.
"And neither do you." He turned to look at her.
She chuckled softly.
"Tell me, how were you not drugged?" He asked.
"Ah. New nail polish. It changes color when your drink's been roofied. I figured Rachel would get a little suspicious if I didn't at least act a little drowsy, so..." She trailed off a little.
"I guess this means I kind of won? Like, I solved the case first?" I caught her looking over at her brother in my rear view mirror.
"What? Why are you looking at me like I'm The Debutante Slayer?"
I glanced over at Malcolm.
"It's not that." He sighed.
"Exactly. I'm the kick-ass reporter who stopped the killer. With your help, of course." She chuckled again.
Malcolm looked back at me and I could see the pain lying behind his eyes.
"You put yourself in danger." He looked back at Ainsley.
"But I had to figure it out. Not who did it, but... Why she did it." She explained glancing at me.
"Yeah. We get that." I nodded taking Malcolm's hand.
"My father was a serial killer also, Malcolm. I was young, but I have a right to be messed up, too."
I knew that continuing to hide the truth from her would only make things worse. I'd have to convince Malcolm to tell her after the honeymoon.