Killing Game

By Kadi

Rated T

Disclaimer: This is only a sandbox that I like to play in. Sadly, it is not mine.

A/N: This one has been bouncing around in my head for a little while. Kate04us encouraged it. As always, many thanks to the amazing beta deenikn8, all remaining errors are my own.

Chapter 1

The hour was late, and the night cool and damp. This was not unusual for late March. There was a definite chill on the air. Sharon pulled her blue trench coat more securely around herself as she moved through the crowd of police cars and officers. The blue and red flashing lights from the squad cars cast eerie shadows around the parking lot where their crime scene had been located. It was an all too familiar setup; one Sharon sometimes wondered that she was becoming too accustomed to. There was nothing at all usual, however, about being called out of her home on a night like this to respond to the death of a fellow police officer.

As she approached the center of the lot her eyes scanned the area in search of the members of her team. A white LAPD tent had been set up around the center of the crime scene, closing it off from view of the public and the news helicopters that were circling overhead. As Sharon neared the tent the clipped pace of her steps slowed. Andy was standing just outside the entrance waiting for her. There were moments when it truly felt as though they lived their lives between the darkness; that they existed between each case, each crime scene, and the hurt that those cases could provoke.

There was a grim expression on his face as she came nearer. It was a look that she had come to recognize as one of determined grief. A life had been cut short, ended well before its time, and he meant to find the person responsible. It was just a few hours ago that those same dark eyes had been sparkling back at her, that the thinned, downturned lips had been smiling with mischief while he said goodnight. He left her at her door with a kiss, laughing as he went because Rusty was making fun of them, something that her son did much more freely now. They had engaged in a moment of banter, the two men in her life, and she had pushed Andy away with a laugh of her own as she admonished the boys to behave.

There was none of that joy present now. That man was hidden behind a wall. It was one that they all constructed; a way of protecting themselves from the darkness that surrounded them. When Sharon stopped in front of him, he took a step forward. They were always very careful in how they regarded each other during their working hours. Maintaining a professional distance was something that was important to both of them. There were moments when they brushed against that line, it was only human nature. They could not always suppress who they were as individuals. She was a woman who loved this man, her best friend, someone that she trusted implicitly and relied upon. He was more than a subordinate, he was a partner. That was a relationship that they had managed to strengthen while he was on desk duty the previous winter. They had always been able to read each other well, but the change in their relationship had given them a better understanding of one another. Her concerns that they would be able to work together and carry on a romance were, not completely laid to rest, but no longer felt so strongly. So long as they continued to work at both sides of their equation, she thought that it could only make each side stronger.

As he moved into her personal space now, Sharon watched his gaze shift. Some of the hardness melted away. His look became one of concern and she felt an answering sense of worry begin to creep up her spine. There was always the chance when they answered these calls that the officer would be one that they knew. It was never a simple or easy matter to lose one of their brothers or sisters in blue; any loss of life was a tragic happenstance, but they all felt the ripple of grief when it was one of their own.

Sharon inclined her head at him. Her brows arched in askance. "What do we have Lieutenant?"

She was steeling herself for his response. Andy could see that in the walls that were coming up. It was in the way that her stance shifted. She was shoring up her professional mask and making certain that the woman was tucked firmly behind the Captain. Andy gave her just a moment more, and when her gaze did not waver, when her eyes flickered with careful curiosity and her lips thinned with determination, he took a breath. "We have an ID on our victim," he began. He kept the timbre of his voice low. They were far enough away from the police barricade and the reporters that were gathered on its other side that he was certain they would not be heard, but it was respect that had him speaking in a quieter tone. While he watched his Captain, it became more difficult for Andy to silence the man in him, the one that wanted to reach out and touch her arm as he delivered his next statement. He wanted to ground her, prepare her, but this was not the place for that and despite the words that were forming on his tongue, it was not the time either. "Sergeant Matthew Elliot," he stated plainly, "Professional Standards Bureau, Force Investigation Division."

Sharon held his gaze. There was something comforting there, a warmth behind the mask. She felt it, even as a sense of cold dread filled her and churned violently, she concentrated on that spark of warmth and used it to ground herself. My Sergeant Elliot? The question was there, just on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it back. The Force Investigation Division no longer belonged to her; she had moved on and they reported to another. That did not stop the grief, and it did not wipe away the many years' worth of memories, respect, and camaraderie. Sharon inhaled a thin, shallow breath. She blinked only once at him. "Was the Sergeant alone at the time of his death?" There was only the slightest change in the inflection of her tone. It was the difference of only a single octave as her voice dipped lower and husked slightly. There was a building ache in her throat that she ignored. The initial report mentioned only a single victim, but it was late, well after hours. Elliot would have been off duty.

"Yeah." Andy continued to watch her closely for another moment. His gaze dropped to his notes. He had already committed all of it to memory, but he didn't want her to think that he was hovering. There was truly no way to brace yourself for what she was being told, and if she wanted a moment to further recapture her composure, he could give her that. "It appears that the Sergeant stopped at the gym on his way home. According to the manager, Elliot signed in a few times a week, always in the evening. Members have access twenty-four-seven, but there is only someone on shift until nine. After that, members can use a security badge to unlock the side door to get in. The manager is getting us access to that system, and we're pulling the footage from the security camera on that door." Andy looked up again. Her face was impassive but the eyes gave her away. They had darkened, lost their shine. "The Sergeant was found in his car," he reported, "it looks like he already worked out and was headed home for the night."

"I see." Sharon was still processing the details. She was filing each point away. She focused on the facts, and pushed the emotion aside. "Do we have a timeline yet?" They wouldn't have a definitive time of death until they had Morales's report, but it seemed to her that they were only dealing with the window of a few hours, and Kendall could give them a preliminary idea too.

"According to Lieutenant Wheaton, Elliot left the office around eight-thirty. He was wrapping up a report. He signed off on everything and that was the last that anyone in FID saw him." Andy arched a brow at her. "Kendall says that based on everything he would estimate time of death at around two hours." She wasn't looking at him anymore. Sharon's gaze had shifted to some point over his shoulder. She was staring at the tent flap, he realized. He had given her as long as he could to prepare herself for what was going to come next. They were going to have to step inside the tent where the remainder of their team awaited, along with the body of a colleague and friend.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Sharon let her gaze drift back to the man in front of her. He was watching her so intently, waiting. She nodded once. There was no longer a reason to delay the inevitable. Sharon's back straightened when he turned and pulled back the flap. Sharon ducked her head only slightly as she moved beneath his arm and past his body to step into the tent. The atmosphere was solemn. Her officers and the technicians were going about their jobs quietly. That always seemed to be the case when the deceased was one of their own.

There was a time when Sharon wondered if she would ever become accustomed to the presence of death; to the sight and smell, and the way that the world shifted as she entered its presence. She could recall, only too clearly, the first time that she watched the life leave another human being. She was newly on patrol; she and her training officer were sent to the scene of an accident on the freeway. They were among the first responding officers. One of the victims was pinned inside his car. Sharon stayed with him while they waited for EMS to arrive. The helplessness, the pain that she felt at holding that man's hand while his life slipped away was not something that she had ever forgotten. He was dead when help finally arrived. There was nothing that anyone could have done for him. Sharon told herself that she never wanted to see that again, but it was not too long after that another life was lost, this time with a bullet from her own gun. She learned very early in her career that the preservation of life was not always a simple matter; that in serving her city quite often the pains and triumphs of her job went hand in hand. Now she knew very well that there was no getting used to death, not if you did your job well. She could step outside of herself, push her reaction to it to the back of her mind and carry on in spite of it, but she could not forget that suddenly the world was a little dimmer for a light removed before its time.

Her gaze swept the inside of the tent. Movement halted for a moment as her people realized that she had arrived. They looked to her and she saw the same grim determination in their eyes that Andy had greeted her with. She saw the same concern. Sharon greeted each of their gazes before her attention moved to the car at the center of the crime scene. The tent had been set up around it. For just a moment Sharon had to suppress the urge to smile and sigh. The paint of the black Camaro gleamed beneath the work lights that had been set up around the vehicle. When he had worked for her Matthew had driven a sedan, but for years he had spoken of having the chance to drive a sports car again. He waxed poetic and wistful about the classic Camaro that he had driven when he married his wife Lisa, but with the birth of their daughter he had exchanged that for a safer and more responsible vehicle. One day, he always said, one day he would drive one again. When the kids were out of the house and it was just him and Lisa, they would speed up and down the coast and forget that they were meant to be responsible.

Sharon felt a wave of emotion at that memory and of another, stronger scene that played out in her mind. She could recall two dark heads bent over brochures. Ricky had wanted a car for graduation so badly and had dreamed of bright muscle cars in that way that boys did. Elliot had sat with him in the FID bullpen, so many times, talking about horsepower and torque and all of the things that got them so excited about the vehicles. So many years, so many memories. How was this the end?

As she walked toward the car, Sharon moved around it on the passenger side. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses as she took in the scene. She circled the vehicle slowly. The window of the passenger door was shattered. Glass littered the concrete pavement beneath her feet. She was careful to move around the area that had already been outlined by the SID technicians. There was blood spattered across the leather, gray passenger seat. She moved to the front of the vehicle and was able to gaze through the windshield. Elliot was slumped in his seat. Only the seatbelt held him upright. That indicated that he had either just arrived or was preparing to leave. From his attire, Sharon would have to agree with Andy's initial report; it looked as if he was heading home. His head was hanging forward, but the seatbelt had caught the weight of his body. There was blood down one side of his face from the single bullet entry. Sharon's jaw clenched. The exit wound was much larger and unsightly. She forced herself to set aside the nausea that churned in her stomach and the bile that rose hot and bitter in her throat.

When she reached the driver's side of the car, Sharon's brows rose. The window was down. It had not shattered inward from a bullet. She came to a stop beside the car. There were two bullet entry wounds. One to the head, and another to the chest. Whoever was responsible for the Sergeant's death had wanted to make sure that the deed was done; that was her first thought. The second was to wonder why his window was down. Had he known his killer? Sharon wanted to believe that impossible, but years of experience taught her otherwise.

The car door was open. Sharon watched as Kendall and the SID techs continued gathering evidence prior to removing the body. Buzz stood by, stoically filming as they, and the members of Major Crimes went about their jobs. Sharon watched for just a moment before she turned her attention to the members of her team. Provenza stood beside her now, and she was aware of Andy standing nearby, as close as he could without hovering. Sharon's gaze had quickly swept the rest of their crime scene. She saw none of the markers present that would indicate that shell casings had been collected. She found that both concerning and curious. Her head inclined in askance. "Lieutenant?"

He had studied her while she made her circuit of the crime scene. The Captain was holding herself stiffly, and the lines around her eyes and mouth were more pronounced. Provenza expected that. This wasn't easy on any of them, and he was sure that she had to be effected by it too, no matter her outward appearance. He nodded to the body in the car. They all knew Elliot. They had dealt with him over the years. Everyone knew that he was Raydor's little protégé, and that he had been her right hand while she was still in FID. Wherever she was, the Sergeant was never very far away. Those who were not part of Professional Standards always had something to say about it; there were the jokes and the comments, but at the heart of it, they were all cops. They understood it. A partner was a partner, and even when you moved on, those were bonds that were never completely severed.

"Kendall identified two gunshot wounds," Provenza stated. "We went over the area, along with SID and the first patrol officers that arrived on scene. We have not identified any shell casings. There is one exit wound," he kept to the facts, without embellishing, "Tao has already traced the trajectory based on where we believe that the Sergeant's killer was standing. The bullet was found lodged in the side of another vehicle. SID has it." He knew that he didn't have to tell her that they would match it to the bullet still inside the dead officer after Morales extracted it. There were just some things that could go unsaid. "We're working on getting the security camera footage and putting an exact timeline in place."

"Yes." Sharon turned where she stood and glanced at the other members of her team. "Lieutenant Wheaton has been notified?" The question was directed to Flynn, who had already mentioned the Lieutenant that had replaced her as head of FID during his initial report.

"Not about the death," Andy told her. "Just that we were looking for him. It's only a matter of time before this news spreads. Taylor hasn't spoken to the press yet."

"Big surprise," Provenza muttered. Their illustrious assistant chief was somewhere nearby on his phone, probably planning his first press conference. He shook his head. "We thought you would want to be involved in any notifications. We didn't know the identity of the victim until we arrived. The responding patrol sergeant has been around long enough to know that he needed to keep it quiet until the right people were involved."

Small favors, Sharon thought. Even those in Professional Standards had families, and those families were friends with others who had loved ones on the force. Rumors and news spread quickly, not just through the ranks of the LAPD. Police wives, husbands, and children talked. They did not need a concerned wife dropping by to see Sergeant Elliot's widow to offer condolences before the woman was even informed. The clock was ticking. Sharon fought the urge to grimace. That was not a conversation that she was looking forward to. Notifications were never easy, but this would be no stranger. She had known Lisa for as long as she had known Matthew. "Good work, Lieutenant." It was a small platitude and they both knew it. "I will speak to Chief Taylor. He can take care of contacting Lieutenant Wheaton. With any luck, I can get him to wait until after I have spoken to Sergeant Elliot's wife."

Flynn and Provenza shared a look. The elder lieutenant inclined his head at her. "Ah, Captain…" He gestured with his hands. "Maybe I should go with you to talk to the wife. We should find out where she was this evening." He was treading carefully, even for Provenza, but saying it wasn't any better than the fact that they were all thinking it. It wasn't always the wife, but it usually was. That was what made it tricky to investigate the death of someone they knew, no one wanted to believe that a loved one was involved. Provenza could see from the surprise that crossed her face before she schooled her features that the Captain was thinking the same thing.

Before Sharon could open her mouth, Andy took a step forward. "I'll stay here as incident commander." He would like to go with her, but Provenza had a point. They had to approach this like any other homicide investigation. They could say that they treated every investigation the same, but that just wasn't true. They would treat this differently because it was a cop; it was one of their own. It was because of that, and because of the fact that Andy knew they had to make damned sure that every i was dotted and every t crossed. When they found the killer there would be no question, and if any of them had their way about it, there would be no deal. Andy also knew that as good as they were getting at keeping work and their personal life separate, he would be worried about Sharon if he went with her. He would be paying more attention to her than he would be to Mrs. Elliot. He wouldn't be completely objective, and she was doing a good job of making it look that way, but Andy knew that Sharon couldn't be completely objective either. She needed back up, and that wasn't him, not right now. The best way to help her was to recognize that.

"I'll go with Sergeant Elliot." Julio walked around the car to join them. He looked between the two Lieutenants briefly before his attention was on his captain. "Tao and Amy are working on the area around the crime scene. I can go with the Sergeant and stay with him until you join us, Captain." Morales had already been called. The doctor never liked being pulled in to work at this hour, but there were a few cases that he would do it without question or argument for; dead kids and dead cops were at the top of that list.

Sharon smiled sadly at them. "Thank you, gentlemen. That will suffice. The Lieutenant is correct. We need to question Mrs. Elliot on her whereabouts this evening and make the notification. Let me know when Doctor Morales is ready for us," she told Sanchez, "unless we have joined you by then. Otherwise, I will see the rest of you back in the Murder Room. Lieutenant Provenza," she waved him toward the exit of the tent.

The Lieutenant preceded her to the exit. Sharon stopped and took one last look around the interior of the tent. She sighed quietly and gave a sad shake of her head. Death could come with no rhyme or reason, but she could not fathom the ending of one so bright. This was not the first time that she had questioned the cruelty that existed in their world. It was not theirs to question why, however, only to question the how.

Once they had left the tent, Sharon strode across the parking lot with her second in command beside her. They made their way through the throng of officers to the command center that had been set up at the edge of the gym parking lot. It was there that she found Assistant Chief Taylor. As they approached, he turned away from the officers that he was speaking to. Sharon recognized one of them as Captain Hoyer, head of the patrol division that was in charge of the barricades that had been placed around the crime scene. His uniformed officers would be keeping the public back and preserving not just the crime scene, but the dignity and privacy of their downed officer.

"Captain." Taylor tilted his head as she joined him. "I don't have to tell you that the clock is ticking on this one." She would know that very well on her own, for a multitude of reasons, her own connection to the case among them.

She didn't comment on that. Sharon's brows arched. "I understand that Lieutenant Wheaton has not been informed yet," she said instead. "Lieutenant Provenza and I are going to speak with Mrs. Elliot. The Sergeant's commanding officer and division need to be informed of what happened here this evening, but we would like to hold off until his wife has been notified."

"The last thing that we need is someone from FID getting to Mrs. Elliot before we do," Provenza pointed out. "Given the nature of the Sergeant's death, we would like to vet her first, just," he quickly added, when it looked like the Assistant Chief was going to interrupt him, "so that we can say that everything was done by the book."

Taylor shifted where he stood. He looked between the two of them. "Alright," he pointed a finger at them. "I can buy you half an hour. Then I am going to have to make a call before anyone in that division hears about this from outside my office." With the number of people that they had on scene, someone was bound to talk.

"We understand." Sharon nodded once. "The Elliots live nearby. Half an hour should be more than sufficient." She wanted the opportunity to notify Lisa herself, and while she would very much like to believe that the woman was not involved with her husband's death, as the Lieutenant had so carefully pointed out, in his own way, experience told them otherwise. There was a time when Sharon would have argued that fact, but that was before her transfer to Major Crimes, and before the Ally Moore case. Sharon was more reticent now, and that made the loss that she felt ache a little more keenly.

"Captain." Detective Sanchez appeared behind them. He spared only a momentary glance for the Chief. "Kendall is ready to move the Sergeant."

Sharon turned. She nodded once. "Thank you, Detective." She sighed quietly as her gaze travelled back to the line of officers that was forming between the tent and the coroner's van. They were creating a wall as well as showing respect. Kendall had pulled the van as close to the tent as he could, but the press would still have a view of their actions. The Sergeant's identity would be protected, but the media was going to know that the Department had lost one of its own. Time was ticking away. "Gentlemen." Sharon broke away from the small group and led the way back to where the rest of her team had appeared to stoically join the others.

Kendall didn't linger. He, and the other coroner's assistant that was with him quickly removed the sergeant's covered body from the tent. A hush fell over the parking lot as every officer that was present, whether they had joined the line of those paying their respects or were stationed elsewhere stopped what they were doing. He, sadly, had done this enough times to know to expect that. He also knew that none of them would move again until his van left the scene.

It was not until the van gained access to the street that Taylor turned where he stood. "You have your notification to make, Captain."

"Yes I do." She glanced to her left. "Lieutenant." As she made her way to where the vehicles had been left, Sharon sighed. It was going to be a very long night.

-TBC-