A Case For Conners

Chapter 14

Chapter 13: The Prey

Conners awoke to find himself in a brightly lit room. It was fashioned with the most modern styles and several chairs. He noticed there were no doors or windows and that everything in the place was brand new. The furniture still had tags on it and the floors had no scuffmarks or scratches. A huge chandelier and several smaller wall lights illuminated the place.

He tried to stand up and found his hands and legs were bound to the chair he sat upon. Conners flexed his wrists and found that he was, in fact, only tied to his chair, not taped. This was good; rope he could escape, given the time. He began flexing and relaxing his arms and wrists slowly to loosen the rope as much as was possible. While he worked on his escape plan, Conners let his mind drift over what had happened.

He'd just wrapped up the Boston case, was depositing a check and had heard a noise. He'd searched and found nothing… then turned back around and been drugged and passed out. Had he seen the attacker's face?

No… there wasn't even a blur of a face in his mind. That was too bad… a face really could help later. No time to lament his lack of information now; escape was the first priority. He slowly continued working the ropes until he had them loose enough to slip his right wrist out of the lowest restraint. He then set to work untying the knots. For some reason, knots just made sense to Conners. Admittedly the knot behind his back made it harder, but it was still far from impossible.

After a few long moments, he had managed to free himself from the chair and ran to the door, finding it locked tight. Of course he could've opened it, but they hadn't been kind enough to leave him his tools, or anything he'd had on him at the bank. Checking himself he found the kidnappers had left him with just his clothes, except his coat, which apparently had been too risky to leave. Honestly, that'd been smart on their part as he did have several tools hidden in the lining of that coat.

He checked the room several times as fast as he could, but couldn't find anything he could really use as a weapon. He could hurl a chair at someone, but it wasn't likely to take anyone out, and he could use the rope as a makeshift garrote, but that wasn't useful when there was just one way in or out of this room. Sighing, he settled on using surprise tactics. He went back to the chair and carefully retied himself, making sure that he could untie the knots with a quick jerk of one chord.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he lay back and awaited his captors. Luckily, after his search, they showed up relatively quickly. He heard the door open behind him and was fully ready to spring from the chair and meet these people, but he had to wait for them to walk around the chair so he could see them. He wasn't afraid of dying yet; no one that who was this into the dramatic flair of the moment would kill him without talking to him first.

It turned out, he was right, as usual. What surprised him was when Kelsey Richards came around to the front of his chair and sat in front of him. She looked nothing like she had when he'd last seen her. Before, she had been composed, relaxed and in control. This time, she looked like a lioness ready to strike at her pray.

Every bit of her was coming unhinged: Her normally perfect hair was in wild strands, and he could see it was greasy and unwashed. The white teeth had grown to be yellow and with food bits stuck in between them. She'd been far too distracted to keep up with hygiene. Her clothing, which previously had been clean and crisp, was now frayed and wrinkled. Her shirt was covered in stains and bits of blood. Looking closer at her teeth he noticed bits of blood. She'd been biting her lips until they bled open…

This was officially getting creepy. He saw still more. Her shoes were cracked in the middle and the pants she wore had many holes in them. Conners could smell her stink clearly, even being feet from her. This wasn't just a hunt. For this classy a businesswoman to have gone this far into unkempt meant absolute obsession. He glanced at the bags under her eyes and could tell she hadn't slept in days.

As he finished examining her, she spoke and her voice had completely changed.

"Hello Michael…"

He remembered her voice was cold, slinking along the ground like some absurd snake. It had crept into the darkest crevasses of his mind and taken root among his logic, constantly whispering into his ears. This was not true anymore.

Now, it was the voice of a woman wearing a straight jacket that had been locked up for decades with nothing but her insane thoughts to comfort her. She shook with each word and he could feel her barely controlled desire. She was ready to kiss, kill and do whatever else crossed her mind right now. She wasn't someone to be messed with, and even though he had planned to attack whoever captured him, this was forcing him to stay put and regard her for the time being.

"Hey b***h," he said, in spite of the fear creeping up on him. "Long time, no see. Couldn't find anyone else to kill?"

"Hardly. I have more than a few people I can go after if I wanted to get to you. But that's not my style. I went after William for my own reasons."

She moved forward and climbed into his lap as he leaned away from her, repulsed. Even if she'd been washed and cleaned, he could never find her anything other than disgusting. As she was, he was ready to vomit.

"I noticed," he said, trying not to breathe.

"Oh it was marvelous," she said. "I finally got dear William and I got close to him just like this."

"I didn't think I could feel more sorry for the old man… guess I was wrong."

"Such wit," Richards said. "I lovingly caressed him before I blew out his brains. Oh, Michael, you should've seen it."

As she spoke, she lifted a 9mm pistol from her hip and placed it against his head. Conners forced himself to breath normally.

"I should've killed you when I could."

"Oh it was amazing, really. Anyway, I suppose you need to know why I brought you here."

"Kind of assumed you're going to kill me. Usually people like you hate loose ends."

"Stupid boy," she said, smacking him on the head with the gun. "Why would I bring you here just to kill you? I could do that anywhere. Seriously, I could've killed you the day you joined William."

"So why didn't you?"

"I don't have any problem with you. You were just working for William, but now you've had time to calm down. You can relax and help me."

Conners was stunned into silence. She actually thought he would just stop being mad… What he knew about narcissists and sociopaths flew through his mind. They were a lot like psychopaths, completely unable to empathize or understand other people. They did not understand that anything was wrong with them and believed everyone else in the world operated like they did.

That was it. She believed that he was also out for himself. To her, they had no problem between them, because all she'd done was kill someone else. She hadn't hurt Conners, not in her mind. To her, as long as she was offering him a decent deal, there was no reason for him to refuse. Her mind was truly diseased.

Conners was about to retort when a thought struck him. If she honestly believed that he wasn't a threat, she'd be way more open with him and he could get more against her than he normally would've. If he openly went against her now, she would just shut down or kill him.

If he agreed to her terms, and toed the line, he may just be able to get her in jail for life.

"True enough," he said, trying to mimic her self-righteous speaking. "I'm not just a hand-out though. If I can help you, it's got to be worth my while…"

"Of course," she said. "I'll pay you handsomely for this case, seven figures if you ask it."

"How generous of you," he said, playing on the inherit vanity within narcissists. "What is it you need from me?"

"Well, I need some evidence from the police station to… disappear. One of my men was stupid and left a gun behind on a scene. Of course, I'll have him dealt with, but he's threatening to testify if they arrest him and I can't deal with him until this business is handled. You're still chummy with some of those police, right?"

"I have the lieutenant practically under my thumb."

"I bet," she said smiling. "So, you'll work for me?"

"Of course. You offer a nice price."

"Always nice to see someone wise up. William never could do that. He was too set in his morals."

And was a better person than you can understand, he thought.

Deciding to earn her trust in his abilities, he pulled the cord and sprung from the chair. She caught herself and he saw a look over approval flash across her features.

"I'll head up there now," he said. "I just need my coat and things back."

"Impressive," she said. "I knew I'd do well to pick you for this. I'll help you with whatever you need. I'll have one of the boys bring your things out to you. Anything else?"

"Just text me the name of your boy and I'll handle the rest."

In a few minutes, Conners was heading for the police station, all his tools and coat thankfully restored. He let his mind spin around at 1000 miles an hour over this case. Of course, the idea of messing with police evidence didn't please him, but bringing Richards down was a bigger concern. He let his mind drift to Lawrence.

Could he tell her what he was doing? He'd have to. First off, she was annoyingly good at seeing through him when he was straight out lying, and he would need someone's help to get into the evidence lockup. Replacing the gun was simple enough. He gotten another gun off the black market, wiped it clean of any prints and placed it in an evidence bag. He just had to get inside, put the tag on this bag and sneak out…

"I'm so f****d," he muttered.

When he arrived at the station, he walked in carefully. Of course, he knew that logically, he ought to stroll in as he always did, as if nothing was wrong. However, his nerves were getting the best of him. He'd never had to do anything like this before. His body was flooded with fear and unease, kicking him into the fight or flight response.

"Hey there stranger," said a voice behind him.

Conners jumped nearly a foot in the air. Turning, he saw Lawrence standing there, as if it were just another day. She smiled at him warmly and put her arms around him.

"Hey Lawrence."

"So, what have you been up to? I heard you got into that Boston case. Why didn't you call me when you got out of the hospital? I heard they had to give you a blood transfusion and some surgery to set your bones. You should be resting, not taking cases."

"Slow down!" he said frantically. "The Boston case wasn't very trying, and I was stuck in the hospital for too long anyway. It's too boring in there, and I behaved better then the last time I was in one."

She laughed warmly at him.

"At least you're ok."

"Worried about me?"

"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's so hard to find people to harass me around here."

"See? I knew you loved it."

"So, what are you here for anyway? We don't really have much out of the ordinary going on right now."

"It's something I think we should actually talk into another room if we could. Do you have somewhere we can talk?"

The playfulness and relaxation left her face immediately as she nodded and led him into an interrogation room, closing the door behind them.

"What's up?"

"You remember Kelsey Richards? The woman who killed Bill?"

"Of course, you said she was a psycho b***h. I've been looking into her during my free time, but there isn't much to go on other than your word."

"She hired me to help her get one of her guys off of a murder charge."

"f*****g hell! Well, we can put a wire on you, and nail her ass to the wall. b***h deserves worse then that."

"Too true," said Conners, thinking of how he'd found Bill's body. "But I need to get her talking first and for that I need to actually play this game for a bit."

"Wait, you're actually going to get this guy off?"

"Only until I can get Richards. I mean, that's a cop tactic right? You let the little fish go in exchange for the big one?"

"Not at all! We make deals with the small time people if they agree to speak against their boss. This isn't the same!"

"It's a little different, but the goal is the same. Lawrence, come on."

"No," she said solidly. "We can do this, but let's do it the right way."

Conners looked hard at Lawrence. She was really not going to help him. At least, she wouldn't help him do this like he wanted to. If they took Richard's man in for questioning, the game would be up and Conners would never have a shot at her.

He couldn't do this Lawrence's way.

"Look," he said. "Let me think this over and try to figure out a way to do this, all right? I mean, this is complicated."

She looked at him carefully. He could tell she was sizing him up and he focused all his efforts on not looking guilty. His insides were turning over and he could practically feel pain in his chest. He didn't like lying to her. Not that Conners ever really enjoyed lying, but he'd understood that occasionally it was necessary in investigation. But this was different; this was personally hurting someone he liked.

"All right," she said. "Just don't do anything without talking to me, ok? I really mean that."

He nodded, knowing he was lying in the action, and walked to the lieutenant's office. His brain noted how his own feet made no noise, even on these hardwood floors. Everyone running about around him sounded like a stampede compared to his movement. Bill had been teaching him to walk without making any noise and it was satisfying to see that such skills were still with him. Thinking of Bill, even in that small a context, made his heart hurt a little.

In a short time, he found himself in front of the lieutenant's office.

Ever since Conners had stormed out, things had been tense between the two of them, but eventually, the lieutenant had come to grudgingly accept him as an irreplaceable detective. So, Conners felt confident that he would be able to trick him. Normally, messing with people was good fun in and of itself, but this time Conners actually had a goal in mind.

He wanted to get into the lieutenant's computer files. If Lawrence wouldn't help him, it was possible there were some other cops who could be blackmailed into helping him. If there were any officers in the building currently under suspicion, then internal affairs would've sent the lieutenant messages about them. Hopefully he could find someone so desperate to keep their job that they wouldn't out him to Lawrence or the lieutenant.

Conners opened the office door and the lieutenant's eyes snapped up to him.

"Hello jackass," he said softly. "Here to drive me nuts already?"

"No, there's actually a favor I need…"

"A favor? Why not ask Lawrence? She'll actually entertain your insanity."

"It's something I'm afraid to go to her with," Conners said, his mind working furiously on the spot. "I think her father is involved with some drug dealers. I didn't want to mention it to her in case it would upset her."

The lieutenant eyed him carefully for a few long moments.

"You're full of shit."

"Sorry?" asked Conners, taken aback.

"You don't know anything about Lawrence's relationship with her father do you?"

Conners sighed, knowing he'd messed up and decided to quit trying this path.

"I don't," he admitted. "I don't know a thing about any of her family honestly."

"Let me clue you in a bit, you jackass. Her father was a gambler, big time. His name's Jerry, and that man lost them their home and everything they had back when she was just a kid. He talks to her in bits and pieces now, but she lost all respect for him. She only ever calls him Jerry now."

"I didn't know that," said Conners softly. "She doesn't mention her family. We usually just talk about work."

"It's a focus for her. She works all the time to escape. It's how she deals with the pain, just to focus singularly on casework. It's why I made her a sergeant. Oh sure, she's a great detective, but it's her nonstop attitude that made her the only real choice. For most people this is just a place that exists, and they have to come here five days a week and do a job they hate because that's the career they picked."

"But not Lawrence."

"No," said the lieutenant. "You and her are different. She won't work with others, you know? I made her take Vickors when she started, but after he retired, she wouldn't take anyone else."

"Until I worked with her," Conners said.

It wasn't gloating. He was just realizing what a part he'd played in Lawrence's life. How could he have considered lying and tricking her like this? It was stupid of him.

"Exactly. I don't know what you think you're doing, and frankly I don't care. We have a fair amount on our plate right now, but you should talk to her. I'll give her the afternoon off if you agree to talk to her. You got her to open up after years of her being closed up and I won't ruin that for her, ok?"

"Right," said Conners honestly. "I can say this: For the first time since meeting you, I'm very glad Lawrence has you for a lieutenant."

"So close to not being a total asshole," said the lieutenant sighing. "Get out of my office before I decide to actually get interested in whatever it was you were trying to do."

Conners closed the door and practically sprinted back to Lawrence's desk. When he reached it, he skid to a stop, sending papers everywhere. Lawrence looked up at him, her expression one of curiosity and irritation.

"There'd better be a fire heading this way," she said.

"No," Conners said, fidgeting. "I mean… Can we grab some lunch?"

"You ran here to ask me out?"

Three different cocky responses came to mind, but he pushed them aside and answered her earnestly.

"Not… not like a date. I just want to talk with you."

"Anyone else had done that and I swear I'd recommend mental institution. Let me grab my jacket; I'll meet you outside."

He walked outside slowly, as the methodical sound of his heartbeat seemed to keep time with his stride. He leaned against Lawrence's cruiser, contemplating his relationship with her. They'd been friends for around a year and a half now… and yet he didn't know much about her, not outside of work. He knew she was a great detective and a great shot, but what did he know about her personal life aside from what the lieutenant had just told him?

He felt the cool metal of the car with the flat of his hand and looked up at the sky. It was overcast with dark clouds. Great. It was going to rain.

"Ok, where we going?" asked Lawrence, walking up to him.

"I figured we could try that Mexican restaurant down on maple and fourth. You like that place, right?"

"Yeah," she said distractedly. "Are you all right? You seem… off. Is it this Richards thing?"

Truth be told, Conners had all but forgotten about Richards. Sure, she was a threat, but he figured Lawrence was more important right now. After all, Richards wouldn't hurt him until she was sure he'd betrayed her.

"Yeah, I'm good. I just was thinking that you and I have known each other for a while now, right?"

"For a little while… as well as anyone can know you, I guess."

"That's my point. I want to just chat, get to know you. All I know about you is from this place, but I want to learn about you… make an effort, you know?"

She examined him for a short time before getting in her squad car.

"This is sort of a big deal for you, isn't it?" she asked.

"I don't normally do this. The last person I actually… connected with was Bill."

"So why me?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Maybe because you put up with me, or because you're interesting… I just know I like you better than anyone else I know… and I'd like to preserve a… relationship with you."

"That was way worse than your normal flirting," she said, laughing.

"Not flirting," he said, smiling too. "I'm being serious. I want to get to know you and I want you to know me… at least a bit."

"Ok, you have a deal. I don't go out much and I think this could be good for both of us."

"Well what better way to open up than over the future bathroom visit that is Mexican food?"

"You call it whatever you want, but you're paying which means you're taking me out."

"I am?" he asked, smirking.

"Yes, and most gentlemen hold the car door open for a lady."

Conners laughed as he got in the car with her and they drove through the insanity that was Chicago's traffic.