DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
An Ordinary Day
Jill was sprawled out on the couch in the waiting room of the station. Lindsay looked down at her and very slowly raised one eyebrow.
Lindsay just closed her eyes. She knew where this was going. It had been going to the same very very wrong place for the three weeks that Jill and Cindy had been dating. Perhaps dating was too generous a word, she considered, as Jill sat up rather stiffly. Fucking like bunnies was probably more accurate. Jill pointed a finger at Lindsay and winked exaggeratedly.
"Younger women. Take my word for it." Then she dropped back down, and Lindsay headed into the office. Jacobi was there and tossed her a bag of donuts. She peeked in. Chocolate frosted! Score!
"Ran into Sex Zombie out there?" He gave a wide grin. Lindsay glared at him. He was not allowed to imagine her friends having sex. "Hey, if she doesn't want to show off those hickeys, she should grow out her hair."
"What is she doing here anyway?" Lindsay asked, stealing a sip of Jacobi's coffee.
"Keeping her girlfriend away. I gave her a key to cell B, and put a pile of blankets in there, just in case."
Lindsay scrunched up her face. "I still don't understand. Damage control? For what?"
Jacobi jerked his head towards the chiefs office. "Your old man's gone missing."
"What?" Lindsay considered freaking out, but everything was feeling idiotic today, Jill's fault, and someone else would be freaking out if there was really a problem, right?
"Old tom tom was on stakeout last night. Dilmount was out sick so he was filling in. He didn't check in at midnight so they sent someone out to look for him. Car was empty. No signs of a struggle."
"Why didn't anyone call me?" Lindsay felt the freak out start.
"Sorry to say, but you are on the 'do not call' list with anything to do with our good leader. I've been here since two, and as soon as his little lady shows up I'm going home."
"Heather?" Lindsay was embarrassed by the squeak. "Heather's coming here?"
"Well, it's her husband who's wandered off into a brothel and not come out."
Lindsay just blinked. She had missed something here. She wondered if anyone had written a report yet. It would be better than dealing with Jacobi's cryptic entendres.
"Any news on the Cop Missing While Titty Watching?"
Lindsay and Jacobi turned and eyed the red-headed superball that had just bounced into the room. Cindy grinned, seeming none the worse for wear after what ever she had done to Jill the night before. In fact, if it was possible, she seemed even more energetic than usual.
"You don't like the headline, do you? It doesn't scan right yet. I'm still working on it."
Lindsay turned to Jacobi. "Do you think she's a vampire of some kind?"
Jacobi turned to Lindsay, "you mean a sex vampire? It's possible."
Cindy was looking between them with a chipmunk-like innocence in her expression.
"Wasn't Jill supposed to stop you from coming in here?" asked Jacobi.
Cindy's grin widened. "She tried."
Lindsay just covered her face in misery.
"What are you doing lying here?" Claire's voice echoed from the waiting room.
There was a faint hint of a reply, "Cindy, in the kitchen, with the nipple clamps." Then there was a thump.
"I did not need to know that, Jill!" came the bellow again, and then Claire strode into the office. "Good, you're here, Lindsay. I just did an autopsy-"
"An autopsy!" Lindsay exclaimed. She pictured Tom lying naked on the table, a t-shaped incision in his chest, then grimaced and imagined a sheet covering his lower anatomy.
"Yes, an autopsy on the trousers." Claire held up a pair of itchy brown trousers.
Lindsay paused. "On the trousers? Why did you get trousers to do an autopsy on?"
Claire shrugged. "There's no corpse yet, and forensics thought I needed something to do, or I'd be useless to the club, and then you'd expel me, and there goes all your racial diversity."
Lindsay nodded. This seemed reasonable. "So, what did you find?"
"They're Tom's pants. His name's written in the lining." Claire showed it to Lindsay.
Cindy perked up. "I have it! Pantsless Cop Disappears Outside Hot Spot!"
Claire looked at her with some confusion. "I thought he disappeared outside a brothel?"
Cindy pouted. "Yeah, but nothing rhymes with brothel."
"Sure something does," Lindsay interjected, "um, how about falafel?"
Cindy frowned. "I don't need to be stirring up Mid-East panic in a piece about corruption in the police."
Lindsay's and Jacobi's eyes met. "Jill!" They shouted together. "Come get your girlfriend!"
Claire shook off the distraction and frowned at the inscription inside the trousers. "It's your handwriting, so they must be old," she said to Lindsay.
"Yeah, I had to put his name in his, or he'd try to wear mine. And that man can not pull off a pair of skinny jeans."
"Well, that makes sense with your butch biker look. It was only worrying when he started leaving the house in my sundresses."
Four heads shot up to see Heather leaning against a desk, looking supermodel-ish in a orange dress with pink and white flowers printed on it. Lindsay swallowed.
"Did you, um, see what Jill was doing on your way in here?"
Heather frowned. "She was looking at a catalogue. Horseback riding equipment?"
Cindy's ears perked up, and she grinned. "Uh, oh. Better go. Um deadline, you know." And she was gone.
Claire sighed dramatically, palming her forehead. "Well, now we can get down to business."
Heather was still looking coldly at Lindsay. It was making her nervous. "I'm not sure I understand what sort of business is going on here. From what I was told it seems that my husband has gone missing without his pants outside a brothel."
Lindsay pouted at Jacobi. "Why did she get a clearer explanation than I did?"
"You're the detective, hon. You're supposed to be able to work it out from esoteric clues."
"I'm an inspector," Lindsay frowned, "I'm supposed to inspect stuff."
Heather made a sound that if it had come from anyone else would have been a snort. "I've never seen you inspect a thing. You're more of the wave the gun around, handcuff, and police brutality type." Her voice got low and growly at the end, and Lindsay hesitantly assumed a more confident stance, with arms provocatively crossed.
"Well, it has been known to happen."
Heather stepped closer to her. Their noses nearly bumped. "Really, Inspector? I would love a demonstration."
"Um, really?" Lindsay gulped. "Is this some police officer fetish thing?"
"Actually, Inspector," Heather pushed her up against the wall, and popped open the handcuffs case on her belt. "I think this is what we call 'issues with authority',"
Her mouth latched onto Lindsay's like a soul sucking demon, and at the same time she pressed the Inspector's wrists above her head, deftly snapping the cuffs closed around them.
Claire crossed her arms. Jacobi bit into a donut.
"Think we should try to find out what's up with Tom?"
"He's partially undressed at an all male brothel. I think he's fine."
Jacobi glanced Claire up and down. "Do you wanna, um, in the crib?"
"Finally," Claire tossed up her hands. "I was considering going to look for Denise."
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