Who's The Valentine?

[Dreamfire]

It’s coming up to Valentine’s Day so I thought, what the hell. About 2 years ago when I first met up with you guys and the board I secretly tried my hand at fanfic. As expected my first fic was a full on Mary Sue ( For those who don’t know, a Mary Sue is where you write a wish fulfillment story where the hero meets up with a person who bears a striking resemblance to the writer… etc.) It is set a year or more after the show left off, Jim has divorced from Christie and so he is a free agent. So, in the absence of any new fic to offer, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day and because I know some of you will enjoy it, even if it is totally self-indulgent. Here is

Who’s The Valentine?

At the 8th, the rain poured down outside, heavy and cold.

After staring too long at the wet street below, Detective Karen Bettancourt found that the windows framing her view started to look like bars. She tore her eyes away, stretched the kink from her neck and looked around the squad. Stark light spilled out of the Lieutenant’s door onto Tom’s back, and then dribbled dark shadows onto Marty’s desk and the floor. The Boss’s voice was a low buzz as he took a call inside.

Half an hour of running ideas on this case file though her head, and it was going nowhere, just like this day. Karen tossed the file onto the reviewed pile and stood, stretching out her limbs and yawning. Hank followed her yawn with one of his own and then returned to snoring.

Statistically there were less murders and felonies committed during long periods of inclement weather. Great – the perps were on vacation but she had to work! With the heaviest New York rainfall in decades, the Boss said it was the perfect time to stay in house, review cold cases, and see if they could come up with any new angles. Her partner, Detective Jim Dunbar, had backed the Lieutenant; apparently his old squad had done this with good results. Well, it wasn’t Karen’s idea of fun.

Not even the fluorescent lights could keep the blue walls from being dark and droll; she imagined this is what it would be like in a submarine. Trapped and stale, the air seemed over-filtered and damp, and the people seemed to introvert, and flatten like cardboard cutouts. The guys looked surreal, almost slow motion. Cabin fever, Marty called it. The usual sounds of the squad were muted, constant rain on the windows melding with the tapping of keys, murmurs of conversation and the sound of papers being turned. A steady, low key snore came out the holding cell, counterpoint duet to the dog snore. The drunk had turned himself in and even Desk Sergeant Watts hadn’t the heart to send him outside again.

Karen pulled another file from the large stack at the window but didn’t open it. Instead she counted umbrellas making their way down the street. She sketched a frowny face on the fogged-up window pane. Was the rain lessening? She looked at her watch, only seven minutes since she had last looked. Whether she had cabin fever or whatever, she needed to get out, perhaps another trip to the coffee shop on the corner for Mocha Latte. She brightened. “Anyone want another coffee?”

Detective Marty Russo’s staccato of hunting and pecking at the keyboard was suspended. “Yeah, I’ll have a Latte.” He pulled a bill from his pocket, folded it into an airplane and sent it over. It landed right in front of her. She was impressed; he must have had practice.

Detective Tom Selway, on the phone, just shook his head.

Jim didn’t hear her. Earpiece in, typing faster than she found comfortable to watch, he seemed oblivious to the outside world. Karen tapped him on the shoulder. “Coffee?” she asked loud enough to cut through the electronic voice reading the words back to him. He turned and smiled at her without missing a stroke on the keyboard, and then, after a moment, shook his head.

Lieutenant Fisk called out from his office. “Dunbar, you up for the next one?”

“Ah, yep.” Jim stopped typing immediately, pulled out his earpiece and headed for the Lieutenant’s office, stepping neatly around Karen as she pulled on her coat.

The boss came out of his office, glasses half way down his nose, scribbling a note. Karen stopped Jim with a hand on his shoulder. “How come you hear him and not me?” she asked, half-curious, half-annoyed.

Was she starting that one again? Shrugging off her question, Jim took another step toward the Lieutenant’s office, but the pressure on his shoulder returned. She wanted to discuss this now? He threw her a questioning frown. “What - ?”

She interrupted him, “He’s coming here.” The whisper emerged from under her breath, somewhere around his shoulder.

“Thanks.” Jim sent a rueful smile in her direction before he turned back and faced the Lieutenant. “What have we got?”

“DOA fished out of the river near Williamsburg Bridge, ID says he’s Craig Newland,” the Lieutenant read off a fluorescent sticky note. He held out the note toward Jim but Karen reached around and grabbed it. “Better give that to me, Boss.” She stepped up next to her partner.

Fisk looked from Jim to Karen; both detectives had the same half smile on their faces.
“Ah… right.” He headed straight back to his office.

“Jim, you want us to run the name while you and Karen go check the scene?” Marty grinned widely but kept his voice straight.

Tom’s head jerked up. “What are you doing?” he asked silently gesturing toward the windows.

Marty pointed at his partner and then to the deluge outside. “You wanna go?” he mouthed.

Tom threw an apologetic look Karen’s way and shook his head.

“Sure, thanks.” Jim slapped his thigh and Hank jumped up, stretching and yawning. Jim smiled as Hank’s tail beat happily on his leg. “Good boy, you ready to go hunt a perp?” Hank looked up at Karen, as eager to get out of the squad as she had been a few minutes ago. Jim reached for the harness and turned to Karen. “Let’s get rolling.”

Karen couldn’t keep the dismay from her face. The river? That was nothing like a warm and dry coffee shop. God she hated getting wet. She looked out the window. Was the rain easing? No. If anything it seemed to be getting worse. Karen’s eyes flicked between the window and her partner and his dog as they headed toward the elevator. Was Jim aware of the deluge outside? Did he have any idea what he had just put them up for? Her shoulders slumped. It probably didn’t matter; he wouldn’t let a little thing like a 40 day flood get between him and a case.

At the gate, Hank and Jim turned together. “Coming?”

Had that been a smile on Jim’s face? Sometimes he hid them behind his glasses and she couldn’t tell. She glared at him as he turned away, realized her scowl could never hit the mark and transferred it to Marty, smacking his money on his desk on her way out. “Smart ass – don’t look so smug.”

“Hey, it’s Dunbar’s case!” Marty couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice. He raised his arms and tried an innocent expression, but it dissolved into an unequivocal grin.

Jim was still smiling as Hank stopped at the elevator. Reviewing cold cases could be very effective; it could also be as dreary as dog shit. He’d rather be out, no matter the weather.

Riverside

Jim squatted by the body. His latex gloved hand moved from the neck to the shoulder and then followed the man’s extended arm, up over the head and into the river. When he reached the wrist, Jim pulled the hand from the water and touched the spaces where the middle and ring fingers should have been. “You can’t tell if they’ve been eaten or cut?”

Karen shook her head. “No.” Her voice was swept away by the wind.

Jim turned his head to try and catch her answer. The umbrella hadn’t moved; she was still there. Had she answered or left him hanging? Was she still considering? Not knowing her expression, or if her attention was elsewhere, Jim waited. The rain slapped the river loudly and he found it hard to filter out the constant drone under the umbrella. “Karen?”

Seeing the frown and confusion as they chased each other across his face, Karen raised her voice above the rain, “Sorry, Jim, no.”

“Okay, I’ve got a pretty good picture of what we got.” Jim placed the hand on the man’s chest, safe for now from the hungry river. Jim stood, while behind his back, the arm slid smoothly back over the still cold chest, past the head and slipped silently into the water again. “No disturbance on the grass, no blood or debris, just a washed up body?” Jim queried.

“Yep, not the crime scene, just a landing place,” Karen agreed.

“I guess he’s lucky. With the river so swollen, he could have sunk or floated straight out to the Atlantic.”

“Lucky?” Karen’s tone was dry.

Jim grinned. He’d said she had a fair sense of humor; his opinion had changed over the last months; hers was a fairly wicked sense of humor.

“You done here? ‘Cause I’d really like to get out of this rain. Even the squad seems cheerful and cozy compared to this.” She looked at the dead man on the riverbank. Her thoughts were dark and somber. He was someone’s son, someone’s lover, someone’s friend, a once-good looking man, who made a cold and repellant corpse.

“ME here yet?” Jim shouted to be heard above the rain.

Karen was grateful to be interrupted in her thinking. “No, let’s get back to the road, though. I’ve seen enough.” She took a last look at the body: head downhill, arms outstretched as if to dive into the river again.

The man who had found the body, had dragged him bare feet first, up the bank twelve inches or so, but the rising river was working to reclaim its prize. Male, 5’10’’, jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt with patches of what looked like a pale grey, now brown with river mud, face up, blonde hair, dark roots, and blue eyes open and staring blankly, Karen shuddered at the description as she fixed it in her head. She watched while Jim stripped his latex gloves and poked them into a pocket. “Here.” She brushed her arm past Jim’s hand and was glad for the warmth that began to flow from his grip. Despite the freezing air, he seemed impervious to the cold. Together they moved back up the slope away from the river.

At the roadside above, the ME van arrived. Three people jumped out to survey the scene, Deputy ME Jennifer Shelby and Assistant ME’s Des and Jessie. It was a long drop to the river itself. Apart from a few steps near the top, the bank looked steep and treacherous. Whole sections of bank were being dislodged and washed away. The waves lapped at the body, tasting it and eager to swallow it whole.

[Dreamfire]

Chapter Two

The ME team needed to get down to the body, photograph it in-situ and then get it up ASAP. They conferred and decided on belaying the Deputy ME down for photos with both men acting as ballast. Then the men would abseil down with a single line secured to the van and bring up the body. The men were heavier, and in this sort of terrain, they should have sufficient weight to sink a little into the bank whereas a small female like the DME would tend to skid on the surface.

Karen looked up to see a woman in a white rain slicker with Medical Examiner in fluorescent letters on the back. The woman attached a climbing rope to her belt and waved at the detectives.

Karen waved back, acknowledging the woman’s intention to make her way down the embankment, and refocused on getting herself and her partner up to the road.

The DME stepped over the small wall and made her way down the dozen steps to a grassy area where she sat, as if on a toboggan, ready to slide down the embankment, steadied by the guide rope the ME assistants held at the other end. She lifted her hands out of the way, grinned widely and was off.

“You done?” she shouted as she swept past the pair of detectives. Karen shook her head; some people had fun in the most absurd situations.

Jim was oblivious to the comedy. It took all his concentration to predict the terrain through the movement of Karen’s elbow in his hand. He worried that she might slip like she had on the way down, or worse, they could both slide back down and damage the body below.

It had taken them only 5 minutes to pick their way through the shrubs and rocks of the embankment down to the body but they had already spent 15 minutes battling their way up and they had barely made any progress. Karen looked up, the road seemed a long way off. The embankment was quite unrecognizable. Much of the surface soil had gone, small rocks had been dislodged and a steady stream of water and debris ran down from the road, obliterating their original track. She glanced back down to the river’s edge where the woman in white took photographs of the body in situ. Craig Newland gazed up, unblinking as the flash went off, his own private lightning. The day was so dark, the flash in such contrast, that Karen blinked and looked away; the after image of his silhouette faded slowly.

The Assistant MEs, Des and Jessie, chatted while the Deputy ME made her way back up the embankment. She was a small woman and although it would have been easy to use their arms and just draw her up the slope, she insisted on doing the work herself, hand over hand. Looking straight down, the body was to the left, the detectives to the right, and the DME further right still. Des and Jessie watched the two detectives zigzag their way back up. Soon the boys would have to choose their path and traverse the sodden embankment themselves, but for now they could watch and gossip.


They made jokes about the two detectives, laughing at the female’s futile efforts to keep the sticky mud out of her shoes. After commenting again on how attractive she was and wondering if she’d go out with him, Des got back to the police jokes, “How many detectives does it take to check out a dead body?”

Jessie looked blank so Des provided the answer, “Two, one to look the body over and the other to look her body over.” Jessie smiled and shook his head, while Des laughed soundly.

“What do you call two detectives covered in brown and working their way up?”

Jessie thought hard but it really wasn’t obvious. “I don’t know.”

“Ambitious!”

This time Des had hit the mark and was happy to see Jessie’s smile broaden and open up.
Des preferred working with Geoff, they had the same sense of humor and Geoff never seemed to disapprove of Des’ womanizing. But Jessie was an OK guy and always did his fair share of the work at least, even if he went puppy eyes over the DME. Wickedness gleamed in Des’ eye.

Karen growled in frustration as she tried to keep her boots free of stinking mud. The rain changed direction almost randomly; coming in horizontal at times, and then pelting down vertical. It was getting harder to keep the umbrella over both of them. With Jim a step behind by necessity, she had to constantly look back to make sure he wasn’t getting soaked to the skin.

For Jim the umbrella was a distraction. It changed the sound-scape and brought unpredictable gusts of rain which startled him and were more uncomfortable than a
steady pelting. He reached a hand up and pushed the umbrella toward his partner. “Keep yourself dry, Karen.”

In the noise of the river, the rain and the wind, her answering voice arrived but the words were indistinct, melting together.

The mud sucked at Karen’s feet and stuck to her boots; she grimaced and stepped up onto a patch of grass. It was cleaner than the mud. One arm holding the umbrella, the other in the firm grip of her partner, she concentrated on keeping them both dry. She was soon glad of Jim’s steady contact as she slipped on the beautiful jade streak and began to slide back to the river.

“Whoa, I got you.” Jim smiled reassuringly, solid in his own footing in the mud. He steadied her with his free hand and held her while she found safer footing.

“Thanks.”

His deep voice was sincere. “Happy I can return a favor.”

Karen smiled and nodded; it was nice to know he appreciated her going the extra mile for him; that he saw it as a favor and not just ‘doing her job’.

Des and Jessie continued to chat as they readied their lines and kept an eye on their boss.

“And what do you call a DME –“

“No. Miss Shelby is off limits, Des, I told you, I’m going to make my move soon. And if she says yes you’ll be very sorry you said anything!” Jessie was all serious. Being in love with someone who was sweet and kind and just didn’t know how you felt was very hard on the young man.

“Aw come on you’re never going-“ Des went smoothly from joker to professional EMS officer. “Situation below.” The female detective had slipped, that could be dangerous in an environment like this. The river was a boiling mess of debris moving at unforgivable speeds just under the surface.

Des was all serious now, “Look, you take Jenny’s line, I better make myself available to help. It looks like hard going for them.” Des changed the ropes to free himself. Jessie took full charge of the DME’s line.

“I wondered why they had come up in that order, why he wasn’t leading, but I guess that’s why. I wouldn’t have thought to stay at back but he couldn’t have caught her if he’d been leading. Like walking up stairs – you always let the ladies go first. ” A renewed respect showed in Des’s voice.

“Yeah, I guess it takes some thinking to be a detective – more than a cop or an AME!”

Jessie laughed at himself. “It doesn’t take much brains to haul DOA’s.”

The woman in the white slicker finished her shoot and tugged on the line around her waist. With help from Jessie above, she moved rapidly up the embankment, like an
abseiler in reverse. “I’ll send the stretcher down for the body now,” she called as she
moved past Karen and Jim, about ten feet to their right.

Snatches of her words reached Karen, who nodded, but concentrated on her next step and guiding Jim safely. Where they stood the rain had dislodged a whole patch of grass, mud flowed down the underlying sheetrock like a dirty waterfall.

“Give me a hand here?” Karen took Jim’s hand from her elbow and griped it palm to palm to steady herself as she took precarious steps on the slippery rock face. She wobbled and, letting go of his hand, jumped the last distance to the relative security of mud. She turned and shouted back to him, “Your legs are long enough, Jim, step up here, about ten
degrees to your right.” Jim felt the rock with his shoe and stepped up next to her.

She brought him back under the umbrella. “Jim, the path back is much worse than when we came down. I don’t think I can guide you like normal. What do we do?”

Jim nodded. “Well, that seemed to work fine just now; you move up, tell me where to plant my feet and I’ll follow you.” He took out his cane – “Let’s go.” Jim followed her instructions and moved up over the shifting terrain.

~

“What’s going on now?” Des sounded confused as he peered through the rain over the wall, but Jessie had all his attention on the DME who had finished hauling herself hand over hand up the bank and was ready to step over the wall.

“Thank you, Jessie, always good to know you’ve got me. Des, I thought you were on here, too?”

“Uh, I … ah, that is, you were almost here and I thought those two might need some rescuing so I came off the line to keep an eye on them and be ready to help - just in case.”

“Good thinking, Des, but I’m sure Detective Dunbar has it all under control.”

~

“Bushes at 12 o’clock, follow them to your right – about three feet and then straight up about four feet.” Karen explained.

Des looked completely confused. “He just pulled out a bloody white cane?” He couldn’t take his eyes of the bizarre sight below. The female moved up the bank a few steps turned back and then the male detective followed, prodding in front with a white cane before moving up.

Steadily, Jim traced the curve of the bushes with his cane and prodded the ground in front before each step. Karen marveled at his patience yet again, and held her umbrella tighter,
- he was soaked through - at least she was dry while she watched. After a few more steps, he reached her.

Feeling her touch, Jim stepped under the umbrella - again the sound changed, his world shrank. “Here,” she placed her arm in his hand again.” That’s the worst of it done; we’re near the steps now.”

~

“Blinded in the line of duty,” Jenny explained to her shocked assistant, “you remember, bringing down that bank robber a year or so ago. But he fought his way back to the job and has one of the highest case closing records in the NYPD.” She spoke as if personally proud of his achievements.

Jessie was deflated. This was the famous Detective Dunbar? There was no way he could ask Miss Shelby out while he was here. The way she spoke about him, you’d think the man was God’s gift to women. He looked down with curiosity – then again Detective
Dunbar looked too old for Jenny, maybe it was only hero worship.

Des was scornful, “Well I don’t see why he has to be out here, what’s he doing – feeling for clues? And this is dangerous – how could he protect his partner if anything happened?” They shouldn’t send people like that out into the field.” He shook his head in
derision and began to turn away.

Jenny grabbed his arm and jerked her heard toward the two detectives. “You said you’d be ready if they needed you. Now you’re going to dismiss the man and leave them unwatched just because he’s blind? Get your gear on and retrieve the body.”

Des didn’t quite snort out loud, this was the DME after all and she was senior to him, but he’d thought about becoming a cop himself, done some research and this was ridiculous - a blind cop! You had to be on the ball, you had to be ready for anything and it was a dangerous job. Well, at least it explained why she had been leading – it wasn’t so he could save her, it was because he was handicapped!

He turned and watched the female detective as she moved up the incline. If she so much as stumbled again he’d be down there to help her. Jessie handed him his own rope and he secured it, they’d need this to get safely down to the body.

“They’re doing fine; you two go do your job.” The DME patted Jessie’s arm softening the words for him but gave Des a hard look.

The detectives had made it close to eighty percent of the way now, the DME gave the signal and Jessie and Des took the stretcher and headed down the embankment.

Jessie moved first. He took several steps to the right, stepped over the wall and turned around. With his heavily gloved hand, he fed out the rope and smoothly worked his way down the slope.

Des watched Jessie moving slowly below him. This guy was such a drag. Even Jenny had had some fun with sliding down the hill. You gotta have fun where you can get it. Des thought her toboggan style had looked fun, his own rubber pants would make a good slippery cushion. He made sure his rope was clear and pushed.

~

“Did I hear you talking to someone before?” Jim asked as they moved off together up the rise.

“No, but the M…” Karen’s legs flew out from under her.

With no warning her arm jerked free of Jim’s grasp, the wind and rain snatched her voice. Jim was left standing empty-handed, blinking, and searching for her voice.

“Oof.” Hitting the slippery ground hard, Karen lost the air in her lungs in one explosive breath. Eyes wide in shock, she hit the ground bottom first and slid backward down the slope of grass and mud toward the river.

TBC

[Dreamfire]

Chapter Three

The AME had found the descent was harder than it looked. He twisted, flailed, and hit something on his way down. Mortified, he dug in his heels and stopped in time to see the female detective, eyes open wide and a yell escaping from her open mouth. She slid, careening through bushes and over rocks, thankfully stopping before the water’s edge and looked up at her partner.

Des’ eyes followed hers to the detective who spun back toward the river, reaching out with his hand and that white cane.

“Karen, Karen?” Jim’s voice held a note of panic. He turned his head from side to side, trying to locate her as he started back down the bank.

“I’m alright, Jim, I’m here,” she panted. Fighting to regain her breath she made the effort and shouted to be sure her words reached him. She hated to see that expression on a detective usually so stoic and calm in the worst situations. Anger and ego she handled fine, this naked moment of concern seemed too private to observe.

He reoriented quickly toward her voice. Where was his partner? She needed him. Flashbacks of Lyman’s attack rushed into his mind, he fought them out; he couldn’t see the trouble she was in now but his imagination provided plenty of details. The city had endured five days of steady rain. The river had escaped her banks in some areas, and they already had one drowned body on the bank. Karen was cocky, always rushing in, thinking she was as tough as the next guy, but she was no match for a swollen river and he knew, that for him, finding her if she fell in would be – no there was no choice he could not let Karen fall into that river. Mentally he shook his head, he needed all his senses focused on Karen.

Detective Dunbar started down in her direction, cane out in front, but otherwise careless of his own safety. Des hoped the famous detective wouldn’t fall, the AME had no desire to enter the river to save this guy. Mind you a little publicity never hurt anyone and this guy seemed to get lots of air space – even if he always said “No comment”.

“No, stay there. Listen - really, I’m OK. I’m on my way back.” Karen paused for breath, relieved that he had stopped moving to listen. She knew him well after a year as his partner; his instincts were to rush in, acting first and thinking later. She smiled, knowing he always had her back, she’d take him over a sighted partner any day.
She watched his concern for her show in a play of emotions across his face. Shit, he probably thought she was about to hit the river. “Jim, there are two stretcher bearers down here, I’m in no danger.”

His expression settled into that calm blank face that meant he was listening for unspoken information. She did not know if he could hear the AME’s over the rain but he would take her word when she gave it. “You keep going - a dozen steps up the incline and you’ll be at the retaining wall. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“There’s no chance you’re going swimming?” he tried to force a laugh into his voice.

Des chuckled, at least this gimp detective had a sense of humor.

Karen threw a dark look at the ME assistant who had just reached her side, having descended in a more conventional manner after sending her flying, and gestured to him to say something. He looked confused. She rolled her eyes and gestured again toward
Jim.

She was glaring at him, - hell he hadn’t meant to push her, he had just lost control for a minute, and she was OK, what did she want? Oh, it dawned on him - she wanted him to reassure her partner. ““She’s in safe hands, Detective Dunbar.” The AME had a deep voice, which he usually used to pick up chicks, but hey, maybe he had a chance with this pretty lady. Des spoke with confidence, suggesting he was completely capable of holding onto a small female.

“Yes, Jim, really, believe me, I’m safe.”

Jim let out his breath and nodded. There was a moment of indecision before he asked, “The body?”

“It’s fine, too.” Karen looked over at Jessie who was working to free the body so it could be lifted to safety. “Apart from being dead and floating around a river for a week, that is.”

Des looked back from Jessie to Karen just in time to see her yell as a gust of wind entered her umbrella and it pulled her backward. Des tried to reach out and grab her but his line was still tangled from his tumble down the slope and he didn’t reach her in time.
She tumbled screaming into the river.

Des panicked and fumbled with his ropes, she’d be lost if they didn’t grab her immediately. He tried to keep his eyes on her head and arm as she was pulled off the bank and into the deep water but he couldn’t remove the ropes without looking. Suddenly he was pushed from behind. Jim plummeted past him, silent like a bullet, toward the screaming woman. Rock fall followed, hitting Des’s body but too slow to catch the man who dislodged them. Des watched as Jim plunged straight into the river, aiming unerringly for the screaming woman being dragged by an unseen current.

Jim dived and reached. He seemed to grab his partner by sheer will and pull her into an arm lock. Des watched them cling together and then the man turned and swam strongly back to the bank. With an effort Des could only think of as superhuman, Jim hauled his partner up and threw her on the bank, and then he staggered up the bank and to her side where he finally sat, arms around his knees and head down, panting.


Jessie had run up the river’s edge and just now made it to where the detectives lay, some twenty meters downstream. “Are you hurt?”

“Karen?” Jim looked up, concern showed in his voice.

Karen, Des thought that was a nice name, but hard, like that glare she had given him.

“No, I’m just c-c-cold.” She stood up, shivering.

“Sir? Detective Dunbar, are you injured?” Jessie got to work untying the spare lines,
readying them. Des felt like he was just an observer, he wanted to act but he just watched, silent.

“Yeah, I’m good, let’s go.” Jim stood too and reached for Karen’s arm. Des heard him speak quietly, “Don’t let go this time.”

“Detective, we’ve got climbing lines. It might be safer.” Jessie looked from Karen to
Jim. Jim turned, confusion showing in his eyes.

“Lines, like climbing ropes, secured to the ME van on the road. I’d like to place them around both you and your partner to ensure you both make it to the top this time.”

Des watched as Jim nodded. “Alright, what do we do?” Jessie turned and motioned to Des to get to the top as fast as he could and help haul them up. Des turned and moved swiftly up the hill. If they were not exhausted now, they would be soon enough, from the cold and the shock. The sooner they had them up to the van the better.

“Here, let me do that.” Karen took the lines that Jessie offered and hooked one around her waist, her fingers shaking. “Jim, my hands are numb, can you tie this?” She guided his hands to the rope around her waist and he swiftly made a French knot.

While he worked, she smiled at Jessie and made introductions, “Detective Bettancourt, this is Detective Dunbar.”

Jessie ducked his head. “Yes, Ma’am, I’m Jessie.”

Jim spoke warmly, “Well Jessie we’re glad you’re here.”

“Alright, I’ve tied us in tandem so that we can go up together. Don’t be afraid to put weight on the rope, it can haul 500 pounds and my partner should be adding his pull to it shortly so we’ll go a little faster. Let’s get a steady pace up and we’ll be there in no time.
Detective Bettancourt, you first, then you, Sir, and I’ll take the end position.” Jessie spoke with authority and calm. The three lined up and moved up the hill without incident. Halfway up Karen spotted Jim’s cane lying abandoned in the mud.

She pointed, looking back at Jessie. He nodded silently and as they approached that level of the incline he had them stop. He spoke in Jim’s ear. “I think your partner could use a breather. This is a safe spot. Can you hold the rear for a moment?”

Jim nodded. “Sure.”

Jessie loosened his own gear and stepped away to get the long white cane. He handed it to Karen and watched her fold it, and place it under her coat, before taking his place again and bringing them safely to the top.

Jenny and Des helped the two shivering detectives over the short wall and onto the road. “Des, go call for an ambulance,” the DME began but was interrupted by both Karen “No, we have to get back to the squad…”

And Jim at the same time, “Not necessary, thanks, though.”

“But you’re soaked through, hypothermia, you know?”

Jessie smiled as he undid the ropes from around their waists.

Jenny looked undecided so Karen stepped into the silence quickly, “However, if you can fit us in your van, and maybe one of your assistants could drive my car back, I won’t need to wreck my seats?” Karen and Jim were still dripping wet, with dirty river mud clinging to their shoes, Karen’s hair and most of their clothes.

Offered the compromise, Jenny nodded. She looked over at Detective Dunbar who wasn't actually shivering and at Karen who gave her a no nonsense glare. For a moment, she wished the ME had come with her and not left her in a position where she had to make this choice. What if they got ill?

“Jim Dunbar.” Jim held out his hand and Jenny placed hers in it, a little amazed at how small hers looked in his, almost like a child’s. She felt awed - this was her real life hero. “And this is Detective Karen Bettancourt. We are really glad you and your men were here.”

“Ahh, I’m glad we could be of service… um, Detective.” Jenny could feel her heart beginning to hammer as it sunk in. She had watched this man on the TV from the day of the bank robbery and all through his high profile court case. At first she had just been impressed by his heroism. She had joined the medical side of law to combine her two great passions, justice and medicine. But soon she had to admit there was something else that had her switching on the TV, hoping he would be on again. And here he was in the flesh, holding her hand. Oh, she almost jumped, she hadn’t let go of his hand yet, what must he think?

She turned hastily to the woman who was trying to keep amusement from her face. Jenny blushed. “Nice to meet you.” Oh god she sounded so inane!”

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t need the bus?”

“We’re sure.” Karen gave the awestruck DME a bright smile.

“Right, well, Des, Jessie, get the body up here double time and we’ll get the detectives back to the squad and the body to the morgue. I expect you’ll be wanting the results this afternoon?” With this last word she turned again to the handsome detective standing in front of her and gazed up at his face.

He nodded, his smile warmed her and she blushed again. Oh, to be a redhead was truly God’s joke on her! She was normally so calm, so in control, but somehow this all fled in the face of her infatuation.

Des and Jessie had retreated, Des looking amused and Jessie studiously pretending not to notice anything. “Right, well, you may as well settle into the van rather than stand here in the cold.”

Jim took the arm Karen offered, and they walked to the van with the DME. “I didn’t get your name?”

“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m Jenny Selby, Deputy ME.”

“You’re with Dr. Madden?”

“Yes, she said today would be a good day to get my feet wet! I didn’t realize she meant it so literally.” Jenny laughed. “Here we are. There’s room for all of us in the front.”

“Jim, I need to get my things anyway, you leave anything in the car that you want?”

“Hank.”

“Oh, shit. Jenny, will Detective Dunbar’s dog fit in here?”

Jenny hadn’t seen the dog here but knew from the TV News that he accompanied Jim everywhere. This was so great, meeting him and the dog too!

“Easily, if it’s okay for him to sit on the floor,” Jenny said.

“Show me.”

Jenny opened the van door and patted the seat, “The seats are up here, pretty high, and here. ” Half-way to picking up his hand to move it, Jenny stopped, mortified at her own gumption. She bit her lip and looked at Karen who gave her an encouraging nod so she steeled herself and picked up his hand and placed it on the floor. “Um, here is the floor, it’s carpeted and there’s lots of space. He’s a German Sheppard right?” The words rushed out, her mind stuck on the feel of his hand in hers. Big, warm, strong; she resisted the urge to imagine it elsewhere.

“Yeah, he is. And this will be fine. We appreciate it.”

“You need anything else from the car?”

Jim shook his head and Karen went to get her things and Hank.

[Dreamfire]

Chapter Four
At the 8th

Plastered from head to toe and brown with mud residue, Karen and Jim entered the squad. Hank trotted, clean and dry, in front of Jim. Somehow, despite the confines of the front seat of the ME van, Hank had managed to elude the sticky mud and his tongue lolled out in a smirk.

The room went quiet as the dirty detectives entered; typing ceased, heads looked up and then most turned away.

“Well, we can see which one of you is smart enough to keep out of the rain.” Marty laughed.

Jim sneezed, and sent Hank to his spot under the window, before going to the water fountain.

“Shut up, Marty.” Karen flicked mud from her hair at Marty, who ducked the sticky sludge which ended up on the report he was signing.

“Oh, Karen,” he whined.

This brought Fisk out of his office. “Karen? What did you find?”

Only a foot away, Jim sneezed and Fisk moved hastily out of the doorway.

“DOA with multiple contusions and abrasions, been in the water a couple of days we think - a ha ha choo!” Karen’s sneeze was loud and very unladylike.

Finishing a second cup of water, Jim continued, “Missing two fingers and an ear so he may have been nibbled by river rats, or he could have lost them prior. When we’re dry, we’ll go look for the entry point to the river.”

Fisk had backed away from the mud covered sneezing detective. “Okay, there are three bridges up-current from the spot he was found. Start there?”

“Yes, Boss. Hopefully we’ll find two fingers, an ear and a suicide note,” Karen said.

Jim grinned. Her sense of humor was as dry as a good martini sometimes. He fleshed out the idea they’d come up with during their ride back to the squad, “We were thinking about how his fingers could have been lost. If it was before entering the river, there may have been a struggle with an assailant and we thought we might find some trace,” Jim clarified.

“The DOA matches the photo ID on his driver’s license as near as we can tell – Craig Newland - but he’s pretty bloated and distended so that’ll need to be verified, maybe we’ll need the mother to ID if we can’t find dentals.…” Karen sniffed.

“Okay, let me know when he’s confirmed.” Fisk returned to his office.

“Tom, did you dig up anything on our DOA?” Karen asked.

“Ah no, we got called out to that university lecturer again. The one who thought she had another murder? Anyhow the supposed dead girl walked in half way through the interview with fresh baked cookies, so, another false alarm. We just got back so I haven’t run him yet.”

Jim looked serious. “Nice cookies?”

Tom sighed at the happy memory, “Yep. Chocolate chip.”

“Damn.” Jim was sorry to have missed out. He stuck his head into the Lieutenant’s office, “Boss, we’re just going to clean up and then meet up with the ME at the morgue where I doubt they’ll be serving cookies.”

Fisk answered from behind his desk, sending Tom and Marty a glare, “Fine. Do you two think you can get some info on this real case before they get back, or do you have more cookies to investigate?”

“Yes, Boss.” Tom answered for the both of them.

Jim and Karen headed off to the locker room.

~
In the car

Karen drove slowly in the heavy rain. At least they were warm and dry. She’d changed into jeans and a thick red sweater, Jim was in black jeans, a black turtleneck and his ubiquitous coat. She yawned and wondered if he slept in it. Turning up onto the bridge, her eyes scanned, searching for anything that might indicate Craig Newland had jumped or been thrown from here - nothing. A little exasperated she turned to her partner. “Jim, this is our third bridge, what are the chances there’ll be anything?”

“About the same as the first two I’d say. With the rain so heavy the river is probably swollen and running fast, so a body could easily travel a long way before landing or sinking. It’s the last, maybe we’ll get lucky with this one.”

Karen pulled up between the pylons and scrubbed a place clear on the windshield with her sleeve. “That could be something…” She began to open the door.

“What do you see?”

“In the corner, near the pylon, a shoe, some clothes maybe.”

Hank whined from the back seat and Karen laughed, “I’ll swap with you Hank, I don’t want to go out!”

“Karen, stay! Hank, come.” Jim kept a straight face. Horrified, Karen whacked him on the shoulder.

“What?”

“I am not yours to order around.”

“You said you’d swap.” Jim tried to hide his grin but it only earned him another slap across the shoulder.

Karen opened the door, having to push hard against a growing wind, “Look, it’s really hammering, if you want to stay in the car I don’t mind.”

“No, no, I’m with you. Let’s go.” Jim gave Hank a stay command and exited the car. Rain pelted down, the wind picked it up and threw it almost horizontal against the detective and the car. Jim moved around the front of the car and stepped out to meet Karen – just as a car flew past, a spray of water rising from its tires to drench him again.

Karen turned just in time to see Jim slam himself back against the car. She hurried around. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jim had to work to catch his breath, “I didn’t hear it - just surprised me is all.” He slipped his glasses off and pushed them into an inside pocket, listening intently to the street in front of him.

“Here,” Karen gave Jim her arm and refrained from giving it a reassuring pat that would have been more for her than him. “All clear now.”

“Let’s go.” Jim’s impassive face was back, and he strode off beside her. Thunder rumbled and lightening lit up the scene.

“Okay, there’s a tennis shoe here,” Karen bent over, pulling the camera from her shoulder. She snapped a couple of shots and handed them to Jim to tuck into a dry pocket.

“Right size?”

“Could be. Nike, fairly new.” She supplied, anticipating Jim's questions and snapping on Latex gloves.

“You want to bag it?” Jim asked.

“I guess, mind you with nothing else, this could still be unrelated.”

Jim pulled a large evidence bag from his coat and shook it open, Karen dropped the shoe in. “Ah, that’s the left one,” she said, entrusting the detail to his memory, which had proven to be accurate enough to rely on; she could make notes on the bag once they were back in the car, out of the rain.

“There’s a dry spot under here, come.” Karen led Jim toward the archway of the pylon while another crash of thunder and lightning flashed. She stopped abruptly. “Wait - blood?”

“Is it?”

“I’m not sure, in the lightening flash, I saw a pool, but it’s too dark to tell if this is blood or oil or something.”

“You have a flashlight in the car?”

“Yeah. Stay here.” He heard the car door slam but it was long moments before Karen was back at his side. “Traffic’s up again.” He nodded, but the rain was too heavy, he couldn’t pull the traffic noise from it.

“So, is it blood or oil?”

“Blood.”

“How much are we talking about?”

“Not as much as you’d be hoping for, enough for a DNA, probably not enough to suspect he was killed here and someone might have seen fountains of it spurting!”

“Well you didn’t spot a few spatters of blood from the car. What else caught your eye?”

Karen called out through the noise of the rain, “The shoe. And here is the other one. Size 10 I’d say, guys’ runners. This one has been placed carefully, neatly. My guess is the other one got shifted by the wind.”

“Could they fit our DOA?” Jim asked.

“I’d say pretty sure. There’s also a woolen sweater, got a tear in it and blood on it. Again folded neatly and placed under the shoe.”

Karen led Jim to the railing and in behind the pylon where there was a little protection from the driving rain. “There’s snags of the sweater on the railing here.”

“Any blood or flesh on the rails?”

“Maybe. There are jagged edges, here, get your gloves on.”

Jim drew latex gloves on his hands and she guided him to the sharp point. “Nasty. This could definitely sever a finger.”

“Yeah.” Karen continued searching the tops of the barrier to the left of where the clothes were. “And if you were planning on offing yourself, you wouldn’t worry about a little thing like a finger.”

“You said there might be oil on the ground. Can you see evidence of a struggle, scuff marks or anything?” Jim asked.

“No, but it really is quite dark under here, could be I am missing something. I’m just going to place evidence bags over the spikes to save the rain washing anything else off.”

“Good thinking.”

While Karen placed the evidence bags over several spikes, Jim continued to scope the rails, sliding his hands down to the horizontal bars running across and then to the ground. Even through the rain he could hear the river thundering below. If the man had jumped, had it been from the top of the spiked rail or from a ledge below?

“Hey, Jim, it’s likely there is something on here, maybe even flesh?” Karen said, holding a bag over the metal to protect it from the elements. “Can you come hold the flashlight for me?”

“Sure.” Jim held the flashlight while she collected a sample of the reddish substance clinging to the side of the black spike.

She pocketed the evidence bag carefully and then tied another bag over it to preserve it for CSU. “I’m done.”

Jim waved the flashlight back to where he’d been standing, “What about over the other side of this rail? Is there a ledge or something?”

Karen took the light and looked over: “Yeah, maybe 8 inches wide but it’s quite a way down and I really can’t see anything on it.” She took the flashlight and shone it over but the area was not protected from the rain, and she could see nothing even in the thin beamof the flashlight. “It’s open to the weather. No chance of footprints or anything.”

Jim nodded, frowning. “OK, then we ready to call CSU?”

“Yeah, go ahead; I’d be grateful to get out of this rain.”

Jim pulled out the radio.

Karen continued to take photographs of the scene.

[Dreamfire]

Chapter Five

Driving back, they had the heater running while Jim asked questions and Karen provided answers. Once he felt he had a complete picture, they worked the case back and forth. “Snags on the railing, the sweater folded, and neatly placed shoes could indicate suicide… but it seemed a little high to climb over?” Jim was thinking murder.

Karen was thinking suicide. “Be easier than picking someone else up and tossing them over,” Karen pointed out.

Jim conceded, “Okay.”

“The DOA was about your height, could you have climbed it?”

“Yeah, but I think I could have tossed someone too.” Jim smiled, “Wanna go back and see if I can toss you over?” He flexed his arm muscle to take the expected retaliatory blow, happy when it landed square on. “But seriously, you’d have to be a masochist to climb over that bit of rail.”

“Or suicidal,” Karen countered.

“And if our DOA was a masochist, that would explain why he cut off his own finger and pulled off his ear!” Jim suggested.

Karen joined his chuckle and they drove quietly for a while.

“The fingers and the ear are key. The ME should be able to tell us how they were taken off.”

“I hope it was rats in the river. The idea of a killer who takes souvenirs creeps me out.” Karen shuddered and pushed the heater fan up a notch.

Jim let the loud fan whirr for a moment then pushed it back down. “You’re thinking like a civilian. A detective recognizes unusual clues tell us something about the victim or the murder.”

“Such as missing fingers and chewed off ears?”

“Yep.”

“And so I guess you’ll be happy if the ME says the ear was chewed off by a female during wild sex?” Karen jacked the heater up again.

“Well… especially if she left some DNA or lipstick for us.” He gave her a big grin and opened his window a couple of inches.

Karen opened her mouth to warn him, then closed it again, smirking. A particularly heavy gust of wind threw several bucket loads of rain straight in his window and into his smug face.

Jim recoiled and hurriedly wound the window back up. Karen tried to keep her laugh silent as Jim reached out and pushed the heater up full power.

The rain was hitting the windows like a tide in big waves, rendering the wipers close to useless. Karen looked at her partner, feeling a little guilty for not having warned him when she could, but sometimes even she hated it when he was right. She found herself shaking her head. Just like all the others, she had thought he was crazy for coming back on the job, and with incidents that car missing him by inches coming thick and fast it would be easy to fall into that thinking again. But he was such a good detective, and she had already learned so much from him, she just had to understand how it was for him and they needed to find ways to make it work. “This rain might be a godsend for the perp. Blood washed away. Body could have been lost completely. But I hate the rain, I hate being wet more than almost anything, you?”

“Mm, I don’t mind being wet so much... but yeah I hate it.” Jim admitted and said no more.

“Look, this is hard for me to say but, well, I would find it easier if you weren’t so closed. Like just now, I just told you what the rain was like for me and I get the idea it’s different for you – like when you didn’t hear the car before.”

Jim nodded but said nothing. He was clearly uncomfortable with her curiosity.

Karen decided just to plunge in, “Before you lost your sight, did you have any idea how it would have been to be blind, say in the rain?”

Jim resettled in his seat, wishing the ride was over, “No. But how is that relevant?”

“This goes both ways you know – you get my back – but I gotta get yours too, and well, it would be easier if you’d open up a bit and clue me in. I gotta try and guess what things are like for you and sometimes that’s just too hard and frankly a waste of time. There – I said it – it’s up to you now.”

Jim nodded, biting his lip. “Okay, well, the rain, especially when it’s heavy like this, it changes the sound of everything. Cars sound further away, and then they’re right on top of you. That one, well, I was exiting on the street side – I should have been more vigilant.”

Karen nodded. “Mm.” She too would watch a little closer for him when it rained, in that case. She waited again while he chewed something over in his mind.

“If the rain is heavy it’s harder to hear when you talk. You sound muffled, unclear. I have to pay a lot more attention just to pick out your words and I miss tone and subtext. You might even have mentioned the car but I didn’t get it.” He grinned in her direction.
“I don’t know what I would do if I’d been posted to Seattle!”

Karen turned into Pitt Street. “Thanks. Good start. I’ll remember. And on my side- especially when you’ve got the choice – do not volunteer us for outside jobs when it rains. I hate being wet!”

Jim smiled. “I’ll remember,” he repeated.

~

In the Morgue

A constant drip echoed from under the stainless steel table where the body of Craig Newland continued to drain. Jim and Karen stood side by side and Jenny Shelby walked along the table, pointing as she spoke, “Multiple contusions.” She touched dark blotches on the man’s ribs, showing Karen, “and abrasions along the torso. A broken rib which punctured a lung prior to death and probably contributed to the death. There is also a big bruise on his chin and a depression from a blow to the back of the head.”

“Blow as in hit or from falling?” Jim asked.

Jenny sounded sorry, “I can’t be sure yet.”

Jim nodded. “Did he die from that blow?”

“Again can’t be sure yet.” She refused to speculate, she’d only give him what she was sure of. “Two fingers missing, and one ear.”

Jim waited. Medical Examiners were a species apart. They each had their own way to expose a body and Jim had learned over a decade of working with them that it was best to let them give you everything they had before you asked questions. Once you knew their modis operandi it would be easier, but for now, deference and patience would serve them best.

“But the body has been in the water for at least 48 hours so TOD is hard to pin down, I’d say on the 14th probably in the earlier part of the day but it’s hard to tell. The ME will be back tomorrow and she’ll review this and no doubt come up with more specifics, both on cause of death and time. Is there anything else I can help you with in the meantime?”

“Could you speculate as to what took the fingers off?” Jim asked.

Miss Shelby picked up the dead man’s right hand. She peered at the gaping holes closely. “Because of the water damage, it’s hard to say if they were off before he fell into the river, all the tissue has softened and I’m not sure some fish have not been nibbling. He’s been in the river at least a few days so it is possible something in the river ate his fingers.”

“Or rats from the bank?” Jim speculated.

“Yes, they’d be more likely to take the whole finger, although I can’t see bites marks. With fish you don’t usually get bite marks, so probably rats rather than fish.”

“But if he landed in the water after they were gone?” Karen countered. “We did find very jagged metal edges at the first bridge. Do you think they could have been severed as he fell or more likely cut off deliberately?”

“Possibly, if so, you’re looking for a very sharp knife, or some sort of scissor action but they’d have to be powerful to do this job, and you need to remember the missing ear. It looks to me like it was torn off. The cartilage is ripped rather than cut. Again that opens the animal possibility.”

Karen leaned over to look at the edges Jenny was showing her, “Oh yeah,”

“Here, Detective Dunbar”, Miss Shelby took Jim's latex-gloved hand and guided it to the side of the man’s head, “See how the edges are rough?”

Jim was surprised, he could feel the edge quite distinctly through the latex, “Hm, kind of frilly?”

“Exactly.”

“And the fingers?” She gave him a smile, guiding his hand to the gap between the man’s remaining digits. “Hm, frilly skin but the bone end is intact.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head, one finger moving slightly on the man’s hand “I can feel something sharp, like stubble?”

“Let me look.” The DME’s brows furrowed. She hadn’t noticed anything she would describe that way.

Jim released the hand.

Jenny looked again but couldn’t see anything new. She closed her eyes and fingered the wound. “Let me get something bigger.”

Karen led Jim back a step back as the DME rolled in a large magnifier. She turned on the strong light and leaned in close where Jim had been exploring. “Metal filings, about half a dozen, I have never seen anything like this before.”

“Not done by a fish then?”

“No you can rule that out now. The assailant was human, someone cut off Mr. Newland’s fingers with something metal. Although I’m not sure what would leave residual like this. I’ll have to do some research. Detective, if you ever want to take up forensic medicine I’ll give you a reference!”

Jim gave her a smile. “Thanks but I got a job.”

“Come on Doctor Dunbar, let’s get back and see what Tom and Marty have come up with on our Valentine.” She gave him her arm and they followed Jenny from the room.

“Valentine?” Jim wondered where this had come from.

“She says he probably died on the 14th, that’s Valentines Day.”

“Okay.” Jim shrugged; there was always an unofficial name for a case, Valentine would do as well as anything.

~