A Saint and A Sinner Ch. 09-11

"A young couple. Came in here. This place is used as a make out spot," he gritted through his teeth. "Saint, I want you in my office today. I want a report. I want this stopped."

"Sure, Sheriff." Nick was busy circling the body. "Where's the couple?"

"In the back of one of the cars." He turned and left the room, bellowing orders at the poor fools who hadn't had the good sense to be out of reach of his rage.

Michelle stood there shaking in reaction and relief that she still had her hide. His anger hadn't been directed at her, yet, and even as she rejoiced, she wondered how long it would be before it was. It had been an awe inspiring scene and the fact that Nick could take it so off handedly amazed her.

"Did you see this?"

He pulled her over, squatting down. There was a piece of fabric in her hand, and her fingers were filthy.

"Maybe she got a piece of him before he killed her. We need the crime scene guys in here on this. If we got skin and he's got a record, this might be easy yet. But something in his tone of voice told her that he didn't believe it would be that easy.

"And you believe in the Easter Bunny?" she asked.

"If it gets our subject off the streets any sooner, then, yes, I do." He helped her up, stepping back to once more get an overall feeling of the scene. "She's staged, he posed her in this position for a reason. And even though I dare to hope," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of latex gloves. "I'm betting that fabric matches the material we found earlier. And I'm betting it's staged, too." He pulled on the gloves, leaned over the body and reached for the envelope.

"Don't touch that!" Michelle was outraged. He knew better, the body couldn't be touched until the Medical Examiner okay'd it. He was messing with possible evidence.

"I'm not touching the body," he said as he pulled the envelope away. "I just want the envelope. I don't think we need this to go through x-ray, we know he wants to play games and physically hurting me means that the games would have to start with someone else."

He stood and turned to look at her, seeing the coroner's rig pulling up over her shoulder, crime scene unit people already jumping out of their truck. "There won't be any prints, you and I both know that." He tried to placate her, not bothering to figure out why her agreeing to this meant so much to him. "I'm not taking it, I just want to know what it says. I promise, I'll put it right back."

"But..."

"Well, I could give it to Lisha, if you want."

"That..." she didn't finish the thought.

"Bitch?" he supplied the missing word, hiding his smile.

"Yeah, okay." Mischief sparkled in her eyes. "But if we get caught, I was only following your orders."

"You're all heart, Michelle." He slid his thumb under the flap of the envelope that hadn't been sealed, just tucked under, pulling it up. The note he pulled out was made the same way as the last, Elmer's glue and magazine letters. The message was different.

"She remind you of anything, Nick?" He read the message aloud. "Oh, I just love being on a first name basis with scum bags."

"Yeah, I just bet his mother taught him really good manners when he was a kid." She peered over his shoulder at the colorful lettering. "What do you think he means by that? Maybe another scene that you were at?" She tugged at her hair as she was thinking.

Nick reached out and rescued her hair from her hand. "He could mean anything or nothing. He could just mean that this is another crime scene and maybe I should get used to seeing them." He twirled the strand a little around his finger before pushing it behind her ear. "Or he could just be trying to make me stand here and be dazzled by his masterpiece while he sits around and jerks off."

"Yeah, now that's a picture I want in my head." She glanced behind her. "Better put it back, Nick." She gestured over her shoulder to where Lisha was strolling in, drawing a wolf whistle from one of the newsies out front.

The woman was dressed in tight black leather pants, a black scooped neck tee shirt and boots that had at least a three inch heel on them. Her hair was sprayed into a hard shell that still managed to have the look of something appealing.

Even at this time of the morning, her make-up was perfect, her teeth impossibly white. She turned and blew a kiss at the group of news people, bending slightly at the waist so that the men could get a good look down the front of her low necked top. The cameraman who had whistled snapped a quick picture of her.

"Can you believe her?" Michelle asked, appalled.

"Yeah," Nick came to stand next to her. "That one ought to look really good on the front page tomorrow."

"I can already see the headline. 'Bimbo criminalist gets degree from Hooters'. Think she'll give me her autograph?"

She batted her lashes up at him, twirled her hair and tipped her head to the side. All that was missing to complete the dumb blonde look was the ditzy look in her eyes and the gum being chomped on hard.

He laughed, elbowing her to get her moving. "She'll stamp her heels impressions on your back if she hears you talk like that. Come on hot shot, we got a couple of kids to go interview." He yanked her out the door and past Lisha before she could say anything to her that could cause more headlines in tomorrow's paper.

They walked out to the car, amid shouted questions. Michelle glanced up at Nick.

"Do you ever get used to this?"

He stopped before they reached the car where the teenaged couple sat. "No, but you learn how to not let them see that they get to you. Just takes a couple years to toughen the hide." She was so appealing to him right then, her eyes large, her skin just slightly pale from lack of sleep and the scene they had just walked out of. Her hair was mussed from her hands and he couldn't help but wish it was from his instead.

He turned away without saying anything more and lead the way to the car where he spoke to the cop standing outside the door for a minute. Then he opened the back seat and spoke to the couple.

The girl couldn't have been more than sixteen. She was a brunette with the all American good looks that most kids envied. Except now, her face was flushed from crying, blotchy and red, her mascara was streaked down her face.

She had a hold of her boyfriend's arm like she was afraid she was going to be hauled down to jail.

Her boyfriend was a jock, right down to the green and yellow letter jacket. He had a pinched look about his face, as if he wanted to break down and cry but couldn't do it because he had to be the man and take care of his girlfriend. And he was trying to, she just wasn't making it easy.

"Hi," Nick said, trying to sound friendly and unthreatening. He had used battering at suspects until they broke down and cried before but he didn't want this girl losing it. She looked like a howler.

The boy offered a nod, the girl just clutched the boy tighter.

Nick knelt down in the opening of the car. He would have liked to take them down to the station, get them away from the cameras and the noise. But they were minors.

"Has anyone called your parents?" he asked.

"No," the boy started to say something else but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"Do they have to do that? I mean, couldn't we just give a statement or something? My parents find out that Jamie and I were out here and I'm gonna be grounded for the next year." She started crying again.

Nick tried not to flinch at the sight. Some people just didn't cry good, he thought. And she was definitely one that didn't.

"Kelly," he said softly, not wanting to make the water works worse. "Your parents have to come down to the station. I can't let you go on your own, okay?" He cringed as she really started up, tears streaming, little howls coming out of her mouth. And he had to give credit to her boyfriend. He dug out a handkerchief, handed it to her and then patted her on the back until she calmed down. Must be love.

"I'm going to have Officer Royal, here, take you two down to the station. We'll let you call your parents there." He stood and let the amused officer close the door.

Michelle was standing there, looking at the tree, at the house, at the lights shining in the few unbroken windows of the house. Anywhere but at him.

He nudged her as he walked by. "It's not funny." He walked over and got into his car, slamming the door behind him.

"Yes it is," she said, a huge grin on her face. She took a sip of her coffee, got into her little Neon and followed him to the station.