31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 24 - Telephone Cord

"So, you and Handsome are working out then?" Lizzie chuckled and rolled her eyes. Both girls' eyes drawn to the gorgeous ring on Lizzie's finger.

"It's Hanson, and you know it, Rach." Rachel chuckled again, and pointed out that the man in question was, infact, extremely handsome. Prompting Lizzie to retort with him being a great guy who was funny and smart, before conceding that those qualities were contained in one hell of a gorgeous body. The women continued giggling until they entered the station, where they stopped abruptly. There were people in there who were victims of crime, they needed the police officers to in control and professional.

Smiling politely at those they passed, the women made their way to their desks. On the way, Rachel decided a coffee was needed and, after offering to make Lizzie one too, she headed to the break room. Lizzie continued on her way, when she happened to catch a glimpse of a face through an open door. She did a double take and confirmed what she suspected: Zoe Fleeshman. There she was, projected on the large, white screen. Zoe's picture disappeared and was replaced with an image that had haunted Lizzie since childhood: a white telephone cord with a pink stripe down each side. Lizzie headed straight to the Captain's office. Minutes later, two male officers marched in.

Twenty minutes later, the four officers left the office, continuing to walk while notifying the necessary people that they were leaving to follow a lead. Rachel caught her best friend's eye as Lizzie followed the Captain through the station. Lizzie's look of panic and momentary paralysis at the door of Mitchell and Collins' temporary case headquarters had set of alarm bells in Rachel's head, but the look on her best friend's face right then set of so many more. Expressionless and stony, Lizzie was always professional, didn't show emotion at inappropriate times, but the current statue-like face meant one thing: Lizzie wasn't just trying not to show how she felt, she was refusing to feel it. That was never good.

As the group passed close to Rachel, Lizzie slowed.

"Tell Don 'I'm sorry', something came up and I'll see him Monday." Rachel looked confused.

"But it's only Thursday now." Rachel's brow was furrowed slightly. Lizzie shot her a pleading look and then powered after the receding trio. Rachel stood watching her disappear down the hall, trying to decide if what she was about to do was the right thing.



"You sure about this, Mills?" Captain Gellar's wirey, salt-and-pepper eyebrows were knotted in concern.

"No, but it is the best chance to close this case." Lizzie was steeling herself for what was about to happen. She was about to come face-to-face with him. Lizzie wanted to run away so badly, but if she did, more women would die.

"I still don't get why she's going in with our intel. It's not even her case." Collins stood with his arms folded across his chest and is nose clearly out of place.

"Why is she suddenly on the case anyway?" Mitchell piped up, sounding as peeved as his partner. Both men were directly addressing the Captain and acting like Lizzie wasn't even in the room. Which Lizzie barely noticed as she was stood in the corner, psyching herself up.

Captain Gellar was about to answer his officers' complaints, Lizzie straightened up and started staring down the two men.

"Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

"No." Came the curt responses, said in unison.

"Is it likely I'd be attempting to steal your case? Have I ever done it before? To anyone?"

"No." A more reluctant answer was given, again in unison.

"I am not on your case. I don't want to take your case. But I have this lead, your best lead, and I have it because I am the damn lead. I am your best way to get what you need. So just shut up and trust me on this. OK?"

"OK. We can do that." Mitchell conceded, thought his body language told her that if this didn't pay off, he would never let it go. Collins nodded stiffly. Lizzie turned to the Captain and he tried to gauge her mental state.

"Time to do this." Lizzie removed her engagement ring, "Just take care of this for me, please, Captain." And with that, Lizzie walked out of the room. She stood and waited at the next door on the left for the prison guard to unlock it. Taking one last deep breath, she walked into the room.

As soon as she entered, she could feel his eyes on her. It made her skin crawl. She didn't let it show, she had been trained better than that.

"Elizabeth," He beamed but there was a hardness behind his eyes.

"Officer Mills." Lizzie's highly professional tone contained no warmth.

"You took your mother's maiden name. Not suprising, I guess. You look just like her." Lizzie fought to keep her anger under control.

"I suggest you don't bring up my mother." Her professional tone remained, despite the fire raging under the surface. The man raised her hands in surrender, his hand restraints clinking against the table.

"Now, Mr Abrahms, I'm assuming that you recognise this." Lizzie slid the photo of the telephone cord across the table.

"Yes." Abrahms smirked, "Brings back good memories."

"This is your calling card. You murdered seventeen women with cords just like it and then left them clutched in the victim's hand."

"Don't need to tell me, Officer Mills." Abrahms interrupted her, his tone mocking as he addressed her. "I was there, I remember ever second."

"You, and you alone, has ever used this exact murder weapon."

"Have to be unique." He interrupted again, trying to bait her. "You really are the spit of her."

Ignoring his second comment, Lizzie continued.

"See, the thing is, this photo," she tapped on the photo still lying infront of him, "is not from your case file, it's from an open case of murders that have happened in the past few months."

"How confusing for you." He smirked, his love of out-smarting people beginning to show.

"Not really." His smirk faded, " It's your calling card but it was not released to the public, was even emitted from court records. So this copy cat would likely have to hear about it from you. You've always had this need to feel smarter than everyone, and one of your favourate ways to do this was to pass on your wisdom, so for them to get the MO so spot on, it's likely someone close to you. I'd guess someone quite a bit younger, young enough to be your child. Personally, I'd put my money on it being your former cellmate, Chaz Sykes."

"If you're so sure, why are you here with me? Why aren't you out getting him?" His smirk had returned.

"Oh, see, My Sykes has disappeared. He cannot be found at this time. Now, you've proved very talented at hiding people in the past. So, I'm going to guess you know where he could be. I'd say you gave him multiple places to go. I'm going to ask you to give me that information. Now." Lizzie's tone had not changed.

"Now why would I do that?" He seemed to be enjoying this exchange.

"Because it's me asking. You are a shitty human being, but you hit it well by being a pretty great dad. So, how about you let that facet of your personality take control and tell me what I need to know." There was a pause. Abrahms clearly hadn't been expecting that, but he composted himself almost instantly.

"Chaz isn't the one you want. Jason is. Jason is the killer."

That's when Elizabeth Rose Mills snapped.

"You don't get to say his name! You do not get to talk about Jason!"

"He is my son! I will talk about him if I damn well choose to, young lady!" His attempt to belittle Lizzie just spurned her on. She could see him getting desperate.

"Jason stopped being your son the moment you murdered mum." Her tone was ice cold.

"Doesn't mean it wasn't him that I passed on my secrets to."

Lizzie knew it was Chaz Sykes, the only thing she knew with more certainty was that it was not Jason."

Lizzie sat down, staring her father in the eyes, knowing she was about to completely obliterate his lie, and his feeling of superiority. He'd ages fifteen years; he'd lost some of his imposing presence and his ability to command a room. Or maybe it just couldn't affect her as much anymore.

"Jason is dead." Lizzie watched the wind leave his sails, and his confidence evaporate.

"Why wasn't I told." Abrahms exploded.

"I made sure you were never informed." Lizzie's professional tone had returned.

"You had no right, you fucking bitch!" Launching himself up, he went for Lizzie to very little effect. Lizzie just sat there, unflinching.

"I know that it was Sykes, because he did what you did. He killed his woman first." Lizzie slid another photo across the table. He was still standing, snorting like a fired up bull, his face growing redder by the second.

"This is Zoe Fleeshman. Sykes' girlfriend before he was arrested. All the other girls," Lizzie slid several photos, one by one, across the table. "They all look rather similar to her. Just like all your victims looked eerily like mum."

"|How did Jason die?" He was still leaning as far across the table as he could, trying to intimidate her. It wasn't working.

"I need the locations of the places Chaz could be hiding. And, if you're feeling particularly generous, an admission that you advised Mr Sykes on methods of murder."

"I demand to know how my son died." He was roaring at the top of his lungs. Lizzie looked up at him, unblinking, staring him down.

"You are in no position to demand anything. Either as a prisoner or as a father. Now, sit your ass back in that seat, and tell me everything I need to know about Chaz Sykes."

Abrahms lowered himself  back down into the chair, lost in thought.

"But he was my boy." His voice had lost all of its aggression. The words were almost lost in the whirring of the cogs turning in his head.

"You do not get to call him that anymore. You killed his mother." He looked up at Lizzie, barely focusing on her. Lizzie was thumbing through her files. With a slight start, she began re-reading the same page and then again, running her finger down the page.

That's when it clicked.

Lizzie collected her files and walked to the door. She buzzed to be let out, just before leaving, she paused and addressed the man restrained to the table.

"Jason killed himself because he couldn't live with being the son of a serial killer. Jason is dead because of you." And with that, she walked out the room, and away from him for the last time.

Walking back into the observation room, Lizzie handed the files to Mitchell.

"I know where Sykes is hiding. Pen and paper, please." She held out her hand. Collins placed what she needed in her waiting palm. As she wrote, she explained.

"It was the mention of Jason and the 'my boy'. There was a cabin near Lake Barney where he'd take Jason, his boy, never me, didn't stop me following them and finding out where it is." Handing the paper to Collins, Lizzie turned to the Captain.

"The address wasn't in the files because he didn't own it, it was abandoned and Abrahms just used it, even did it up. It's likely still livable and safer than anywhere, as it couldn't be linked to him."

The Captain motioned to Collins and Mitchell:

"Let's go." He looked at Lizzie who shook her head slightly. The men left.

Lizzie breathed a sigh of relief, when she looked up and saw blue eyes full of concern.

"So Kevin Abrahms is..."

"My father, yes." Lizzie finished. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just...I..."

"You don't need to. OK? It's your past, if you wanna leave it behind and never talk about it, that's what you do. But I'm here if you ever want to tell me. I just need to know how you are now."

"I'm doing...shitty. I never wanted to see that man again. And for him to accuse Jason..." Almost at breaking point, Lizzie fell into Officer Hanson's arms.

"You wanna talk about Jason?" He asked, gingerly, as he gently stroked her hair. "I didn't even know you had a brother."

"He was five years older. When Dad went away, I was so young and I looked more and more like mum as I grew up, so no one made the connection with me. But Jason, he looked so much like my dad, like a carbon copy, everyone knew who he was. The shit that got yelled at him from strangers, he was run out of towns, always having to move. The amount of times he ended up in hospital because someone had attacked him in retaliation for our father's actions."Then, in a small voice she added, "I was the one who found him."

"I think we should go home. Captain said you've got the next week off. No argument." Lizzie nodded, too drained to do anything else.

Pulling back a little, he offered her the engagement ring, she smiled and held out her left hand. He slid the ring back into it's rightful place. And, with her loving fiance's arm around her, Elizabeth Mills walked away from the man she once called 'Dad'.