Rookie of the Year
Author's Note: My first published fan fiction. It's been a while since I've written. . . well, anything really. Constructive criticism is very welcome. I personally think I have a pretty good start and would like input as to whether I should continue it. Go ahead. Be brutally honest. Well, maybe not brutally, per se. . . ;-)
Disclaimer: Ah yes, I suppose I should disclaim things here. It's only fair, since at least three or four. . . maybe even five, but possibly six or seven, of these characters aren't mine. Some of them are though. And the plot is mine. Anything that's not mine belongs to Dick Wolf. He's so cooooool. . . . (snaps out of dreamy state). Yeah, anyway, on with the story!
Chapter 1- Busted!
Rookie Police Officer Emily Handsen stood in front of the small mirror on the inside of her locker door, tying her hair back. She checked her watch; five minutes until roll call. She sat on the bench and tied her boots.
"Emmie, you coming to roll call today?" a female voice called out from a locker around the corner.
Handsen finished tying her right boot and started on the left.
"Nah," she called back. "Thought I'd just hide out up here for the tour. See you at eleven!"
She finished tying the left boot, took her jacket and hat out of the locker, and slammed the door.
"On second thought," she continued, popping her head around the corner, making Solomon jump slightly, "I've got rent due next week. I think I'll work today."
Jamie Solomon shook her head, smirking. "You're such a dork, you know that?"
Handsen shrugged. "Thanks, I try." She moved past Solomon, shrugging into her jacket. "I'll see you down there."
"The whole thing is just stupid; I mean we can't make crimes happen, what are we supposed to do?"
Handsen leaned back against the glass wall of the bank next to her partner and sighed. "Remember what they said in the academy, Delgado. It's all a game; just play it. Oh, but what have we here?"
Delgado followed Handsen's gaze to the crosswalk, where a blond woman, nicely dressed, crossed the street, despite the steady 'Don't Walk' signal.
Handsen rubbed her hands together. "This'll be number five for the month, I believe."
The woman was looking down into her shoulder bag, digging for something and not paying attention, as a livery cab screeched to a halt and honked its horn. Startled, the woman looked up at the stopped car, merely a foot or two away.
Handsen raised her eyebrows at Delgado. "Make that five and six," she said with a grin.
As the woman stepped onto the sidewalk, both cops approached her.
"Hi, how you doing?" Handsen asked, making it sound like a casual friendly inquiry.
"I'm late, actually," the woman said through a British accent. "So if you'll excuse me. . ."
"You know you just jaywalked?" Handsen continued, blocking the woman's path.
The woman laughed in disbelief. "You can't be serious!"
Handsen nodded, keeping the friendly, courteous smile plastered on her face. "I am, and then you obstructed traffic."
"The cab?"
"Do you have ID on you, ma'am?"
"Are you actually going to summons me for jaywalking?" She seemed a combination of irritated and amused.
Handsen looked around for a place out of the way of passing pedestrians. "Here, let's talk over here."
Handsen and Delgado led the British blond over to an area next to the bank where there was significantly less pedestrian traffic, putting the woman's back against the wall, the officers on either side of her.
Handsen pulled out her radio. "2-9 post 1, Central," she said into it.
"Can we just get your ID real quick?" Delgado asked.
The woman didn't attempt to hide her annoyance as she dug through her shoulder bag.
"Post 1," the radio crackled.
"I have one stopped, 300 West 1-2-5, doing a name check."
"10-4."
The woman thrust her ID toward Delgado, who took it and handed it to Handsen.
"Thank you, ma'am," Handsen said. She looked down at the ID. "Ms. . . Hitchens?"
The woman seemed to pale for a moment, but just for a moment, and then seemed to regain her composure. "Yes, that's right, Hitchens."
"Post 1, go with the name," the radio crackled.
"Thanks, this'll just take a sec," Handsen said. She went back to the radio, "Last name is Henry, Ida, Tom, Charlie, Henry, Eddie, Nora, Sam. First name, Elizabeth, common spelling. DOB is zero six, one eight, nineteen sixty five."
"10-4, standby," Central replied.
"So am I going to get a summons?"
"Yeah, well you crossed unsafely, and—"
"9 Post 1," the radio interrupted.
"Post 1," Handsen answered.
"10-8."
Handsen sighed, pulling out a pen and her memo book. "Four, go with the docket."
"2005, 1 Peter Peter, 100736."
"Read, thank you." She clipped her radio back onto her hip and put the memo book away. "Ms. Hitchens, can you turn around and put your hands behind your back, please." It wasn't a request.
"Excuse me?"
Delgado mouthed 'eight?' and Handsen nodded as she pulled her handcuffs out. Delgado reached for his OC spray with one hand, and took Hitchens' shoulder bag with the other.
"Your name came up with a warrant," Handsen explained patiently, taking Hitchens' arm and gently turning her around, snapping a cuff on one of her wrists. "We have to take you in. The warrant may not even be active, it's just procedure."
"Okay, so do you want to come get her, or I'll just take her down to court." Handsen stood behind the front desk, on the phone with Manhattan Warrants, rubbing her temple. She could feel a migraine coming on. "Okay. Oh yeah, Major Case is after her, huh? Nice. You got a name?" She scribbled down a name on scrap paper. "Okay, I'll give him a call and have him meet us at the courthouse. Thank you."
She hung up the phone, then picked it back up and started dialing again.
"Hello, Detective Goren please. Thank you."
"The warrant's good?"
Handsen looked up to see her sergeant. She nodded. "I'm getting the detective on the phone right—Detective Goren? Hi, this is PO Handsen from the 2-9 Precinct. I've got an ROW for you. Elizabeth Hitchens?"
Downtown at One Police Plaza, Detective Robert Goren held the phone to his ear, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. Elizabeth Hitchens. In custody. In the 29th Precinct. And, not only was she in custody, but he could tell by the way the officer was speaking to him that she was a rookie. Probably just came out of the last class, barely four months ago. It couldn't be her. There must have been some mistake.
"Did you run her prints?" he asked.
"Yeah," the officer answered. "The ID she gave me said Hitchens, but her prints came back with a handful of aliases, uh. . ." there was a shuffling of papers. Definitely a rookie. "Elizabeth Haines, Nicole Wallace, Leslie Eastman—"
"Blond, sounds British?"
"Uhh. . . Yes," she answered. "I'm about to take her down to court, unless you want to come get her." She lowered her voice. "Honestly though, I could use a couple hours off the street, if you want to meet us at court."
Goren allowed himself a grin. He remembered those days. "Okay, that's fine. Just. . . Don't let your guard down around her."
"What's she wanted for?"
"Well, the warrant's for custodial interference," Goren said. "But—Just. . . don't let your guard down."
"Got it, Detective. See you in about an hour."
Goren hung up the phone, jotting down a few notes in his binder.
"What's up?"
Goren looked across his desk to Eames. "We got her."
"Who?" And then realization dawned on her. "No."
Goren smiled a triumphant smile. "Yes."
"How?"
"Rookie in the 2-9 stopped her, and the warrant popped. Take a trip up the street?"
Eames could hardly contain her own grin. "Let's go."
They stepped onto the elevator, and as the door closed, Eames had a sudden thought. "Do you think we should pick her up some scones?"
"Docket number ending 100736, Custodial Interference in the First Degree, defendant Nicole Wallace, AKA Elizabeth Hitchens, AKA Elizabeth Haines, AKA Leslie Eastman."
"That's you," Handsen said, pulling Nicole to her feet. She led her up to the front of the courtroom to face the judge.
"Nicole Wallace, you have quite a record here, I see," the judge said.
"But that's not why I'm here today, judge," Nicole answered, forcing a fake smile onto her face.
The door at the back of the courtroom opened, and Handsen and Nicole turned to see two detectives, who Nicole knew and Handsen assumed, to be Goren and Eames. They took their seats in the front bench of the nearly empty room.
The judge cleared her throat. "Yes, the custodial interference," she said. She turned a page. "And you also jumped bail for murder?"
"There were extenuating circumstances and I had to temporarily leave town, but I came back."
"I gather from what I'm reading here that the 'extenuating circumstance' was the custodial interference you're here to answer for?"
"I took that girl to her family."
The judge nodded. "So I see. That is a matter for you to argue at trial. You did return to the city of your own accord. Officer, what prompted you to stop Ms. Wallace?"
"Jay walking, judge," Handsen answered.
The judge nodded. "I see there was weak evidence on the original charge of murder? I'll continue that bail, but I'm going to set bail for the interference at $10,000, cash or bond."
"I'm ready to post that today, judge," Nicole said.
The judge looked up. "See the court officer." She banged the gavel and stepped down, disappearing behind a door.
Handsen unlocked the handcuffs and put them back onto her belt, and Nicole stepped away to see the court officer sitting at a computer about her bail.
"Jaywalking?" Eames asked in disbelief.
Handsen turned to face the now standing detectives, grinning. "Right in front of me," she said. "I couldn't just let that go, right?"
"How-How long have you been out of the academy?" Goren asked.
Handsen continued grinning. "Four months."
"Four months and already got a murderer off the streets," Eames said. "Somebody should nominate you for rookie of the year."
Handsen's grin dropped and her expression turned to one of intrigue. "They have that?"
"Sorry to interrupt the congratulatory pow-wow," Nicole said, not sounding sorry at all. "Detectives! Can't really say glad to see you here—"
"Stop, Nicole," Goren said, quietly yet dangerously. "Why did you come back? You could have stayed away, and probably wouldn't have been caught at all."
"More than likely Detective, but everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?"
There was a tense moment as Goren and Nicole stared each other down, and Handsen looked between the sociopath and the two detectives, trying to get a grasp on what, exactly, the obvious history between them involved.
"Nicole, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that, given your past bail jumping, we'll have someone watching you," Goren finally broke the moment.
Nicole offered one of her not-so-convincing innocent smiles. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, detective."
She turned to leave, but Handsen stopped her.
"Ms. Wallace." She approached her, digging into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out several small sheets of paper. "I'm sorry, but you don't want to forget your summonses. You don't want another warrant, right?"
"Summonses?" Nicole seemed to be somewhat in disbelief. Was she really going to be summoned, after she was just arraigned and posted bail?
Handsen couldn't resist the smirk that crawled onto her face. "Yeah, your summonses. This one is for jaywalking." She handed Nicole one set of paper. "And this one is for disorderly conduct."
"Disorderly--?"
"You obstructed vehicular traffic. Have a nice day." She forced a polite smile.
Nicole pocketed the summonses and turned to leave, muttering under her breath, "Like a summons is going to stop me."
Handsen, not really sure what she'd heard, just stared after her before turning back to the detectives.
Lowering her voice, she asked, "How can the judge give her bail when she already skipped out on it before?"
"Handsen, as you do this job more and more, the things you see will cease to amaze you," Eames said by way of explanation.
"So then I said, 'Hold up, don't forget your summonses,'" Handsen said, laughing, setting her beer down on the bar. "Oh, Delgado, you should have seen it, it was great!"
"Man, I can't believe you got a murderer," Delgado said.
Handsen shrugged. "Yeah, well, alleged murderer, I guess. I still don't understand how she got bail, and so low, too!"
"Eh, it happens," Delgado answered.
Handsen nodded, picking up her beer and taking another swig. "Okay, how about another round, on me?"
Delgado, along with half a dozen other people gathered around from their squad, let loose a round of applause.
"This is my last one though, so don't get used to it!" Handsen had to yell over the noise. "Delgado's picking them up next!" She won a glare from her partner.
She took another gulp of beer and handed the bartender her credit card. When she got it back, she stood, telling Delgado with a look that she'd be right back. She made her way downstairs to the Ladies' Room, and locked the door behind her. She suddenly wasn't feeling so good. What was wrong with her? She'd only had a couple of beers; this was completely unlike her.
She splashed some cold water onto her face, hoping it would bring her back into focus. No such luck. But she couldn't hide in the bathroom forever.
Handsen shut the water off and dried her face with some paper towels. She fixed herself as best she could before unlocking the door and heading back out into the crowded bar.
She walked down the dark and deserted basement hallway, relying heavily on the wall for support. She pulled herself up the stairs and made it to the main level. Immediately the floor seemed to tip and buck beneath her feet. She stumbled, but caught herself and leaned back against the wall, trying to get over the sudden vertigo.
"HHeeyy, aarree yyoouu aallll rriigghhtt?"
Handsen looked up into someone's eyes. She couldn't tell if she recognized him or not, and his voice was distorted.
"I'm . . . I don't. . . What's going. . ." she managed to slur out.
"Sshh, it's okay." The mysterious man wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began to guide her toward the back door. "You're going to be fine."
Everything was a distorted blur, and she couldn't understand what he was saying anymore. She barely registered that she was now outside. There were bright lights shining in her eyes, and she was being brought toward them.
A sudden loud shout from behind caused the mystery man to spin around, dropping Handsen who fell to the pavement. She held onto the ground, willing the spinning to stop. Finally, her mind couldn't take anymore, and she gave in to the overwhelming darkness.
The man jumped into the waiting car, which immediately sped down the alley in reverse, taking off once it hit the street. Delgado wasted no time running to Handsen, who had passed out on the ground.
"Emmie?" He asked frantically. "Emmie, can you hear me?" He pulled out his cell phone with one hand while he cradled her head with the other.
"This is PO Delgado, I'm assigned to the 2-9 precinct, I'm off duty, I have an officer down, I need a bus. . ."
Uh oh, that doesn't look good. Should I go on?