Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. WWE does.
Chapter Fifteen -- Discoveries
"You're a VERY quiet guy Dave." Lincoln glanced over at his new Handler, who focus remained on the road. They took Dave's SUV out to go speak with the family of the 2nd victim. Traffic had become much lighter since this morning. Dave looked up at the sky as they approached a red light. Clouds began to blanket the sky, a sign that rain would soon follow. Lincoln had pulled out his PDA to check his e-mail.
"What's there to talk about?" Dave asked. He looked over at Lincoln who was intently staring at the screen of his PDA.
"Well we can get to know each other better. I mean we are partners now." Lincoln responded.
"Partners? I don't think so." Dave replied. "I'm your Handler; you're my 'Active'. That's not the same as being partners."
"Oh ok so because I'm not a trained FBI agent toting a firearm and wearing a suit that makes me look like a penguin means that I'm not your partner? Got it." Lincoln replied, clearly annoyed at Dave's response.
Dave chuckled. "If it makes you feel better, then you can refer to yourself as my partner."
"I don't need your permission to refer to this...this thing as a partnership." Lincoln returned his focus back to his PDA. Dave rolled his eyes and continued to drive. He could tell this was going to be an excellent pairing.
"Alright were here. 1377 Spooner Street."
They arrived at a weathered down white and blue single family dwelling. The lawn was littered with dirt patches and children's toys. In the driveway were 2 sedans, one stripped of its wheels, perhaps a worn out vehicle used for spare parts and a newer Red Honda. The men stepped out of the SUV and proceeded to the front door. Lincoln reached out to ring the doorbell when Dave swiftly grabbed his wrist.
"What?" Lincoln asked.
"Let me do all the talking OK?"
"Why? Don't think I can handle it? I've done this before you know."
"I'm sure you have but still I prefer we do things my way."
"Fine." Lincoln withdrew his arm from Dave's grip and rested his hands on his hips, turning away from the larger man. Dave ranged the doorbell and they waited for someone to answer. Lincoln began to tap his foot on the wooden deck.
"You know what? You've been here for like what 1 day and already you're trying to run the show? What are you a control freak?"
"Look, I'm the fed and you're...well you're not." Dave ranged the bell again. Lincoln began to tap his foot louder, which began to annoy Dave.
"Stop that please." Dave demanded. Lincoln stared up at him and continued to be defiant.
Moments later the door opened and a frail old woman peered through the screen door.
"Mrs. Baker?" Dave asked, squinting his eyes to get a better look. She had a cane in her left hand and wore a house gown lined with flowers.
"Yes." The woman replied.
"My name is Special Agent Batista with the FBI. We're here to ask you some questions about your granddaughter Kathleen. Can we come in?"
"Oh yes of course." She unlocked the screen door and allowed Dave & Lincoln to step inside. The living room was decorated with blue and gold wallpaper, cherry oak book shelves, tables, and glass figurines. Lincoln took a deep inhale through his nose. He smelled a faint scent of apple & cinnamon air freshener.
"Couldn't even mention me? Figures." Lincoln complained under his breath. Dave shot him a glare in response.
"Please sit down" Mrs. Baker motioned for the 2 to sit on a brown leather loveseat in front of them. Mrs. Baker made her way to a rocking chair on the opposite side of the room.
Dave cleared his throat. "Mrs. Baker let me just start off by saying we're deeply sorry for your loss."
"Thank you so much. It's been hard on all of us her death. She was such a wonderful dear. I miss her very much."
"Of course. Anyways we need to ask you some questions to help with our investigation. Was anything unusual going on in Kathleen's life? Anything out of the ordinary?" Dave reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small memo pad and pen. He clicked the pen and held the pad in his palm preparing to write.
"Well Kathy was always a very private person, every since her mother died years ago. She didn't talk much about what was going on with her. She visited me every Wednesday however. I would watch her children for her sometimes too."
"She has children?" Dave asked, taking notes.
"Oh yes. 2 precious boys. Oliver and Kenny, 7 and 5 years old. The sweetest kids. I'm worried about them. They've been asking for their mother. We haven't told them what happened yet. We're all too afraid."
"What about the father? Any relationship?"
"No I'm afraid not. He pretty much a dead beat dad. I warned Kathy not to get involved with him but she didn't listen. Got pregnant at an early age. He doesn't even believe the kids are his. Denies them every chance he gets. They look just like him though. Same eyes and nose."
"Have they ever had any problems? Arguments or anything like that?"
"All the time. Kathy wanted child support and Kevin, that's his name, would never pay it. Sometimes he would give her money here and there. I believe he did it just to keep Kathy tethered to him. After all the crap he's pulled she still wanted things to work out between them. She says it's best for the boys but I can tell that wasn't the main reason." Mrs. Baker shifted in her seat and coughed.
"Do you know his full name?" Dave asked.
"Kevin Martin Lansen" Mrs. Baker replied with a hint of disgust in her voice. He lives somewhere in West Hollywood. He's a mechanic at some low life car shop."
"Thanks that will be very—" Dave paused as he noticed Lincoln had gotten up from the loveseat and strayed over to an old & battered wooden bookshelf filled with picture frames. He noticed one of a young girl sitting on a swing set. He picked it up and looked at it.
'Dammit Linc' Dave said under his breath. He wondered what the young psychic was doing.
Lincoln finally spoke. "Kathleen... she played sports as a child?"
"Why yes she did. Soccer in middle school and volleyball in high school. She was wonderful." Mrs. Baker replied. She stood up and walked over to Lincoln, who put the picture frame down gently.
"My Kathleen was the nicest, sweetest girl. Always looking out for others in need. She loved chess as well you know." Mrs. Baker picked up a picture frame. A picture of her and Kathleen sitting on a bench at a park.
"This photo was taken just last month. She...She—" Mrs. Baker placed the frame back down and tears began to fill her eyes. Both Lincoln and Dave, who stood up and walked over to the 2 near the bookshelf looked concerned. Dave winced at the sight of Mrs. Baker crying. He didn't like to get emotionally involved with people he had to interview. It made him very uncomfortable.
Lincoln reached over and placed a hand on Mrs. Baker's back.
"I'm so sorry" He said.
"It's ok dear. I'm fine" She said as she straightened up and wiped her eyes, smiling and sucking back her tears.
'He seems to be better at this than I am'. Dave thought to himself. He placed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat.
"Ma'am if we could—"
"Did Kathleen have headaches?" Lincoln interrupted Dave.
"Headaches? No I don't think so." Mrs. Baker turned around and walked back to her chair. "She hadn't complained about any headaches."
"Any recent illnesses or complaints of pain?" Lincoln returned to the loveseat while Dave remained standing. He was curious as to why Lincoln was asking these specific questions.
"No no. WAIT!" Mrs. Baker jumped out of her seat, surprisingly for someone her age. "Oliver did tell me that his mommy's head was hurting. About a week ago."
"I see." Lincoln began. He shifted in his seat slightly. "I think that's all we need, right Dave?" He cocked his head around to look at the agent, who had a dumb-founded look on his face.
"Uh yeah I think that's all. Thank you Mrs. Baker."
"Wait. What does Kathy's headaches have to do with her murder?" Her face had a pleading look.
"We just need as much information as possible." Lincoln answered quickly.
"Oh of course."
"We'll keep you informed of our progress Mrs. Baker." Dave said.
"Thank you. I really appreciate it."
The 2 men proceeded to walk towards the door. They gave Mrs. Baker a final goodbye and headed to the vehicle. Once inside, Dave began to question Lincoln.
"What the hell was that?" He asked.
"What do you mean? I was doing my job Dave." Lincoln said sarcastically.
"I mean the questions you asked her. The headaches and stuff."
"Oh that. Yeah I had a vision." Dave's face began to show signs of surprise and confusion.
"A vision?" Dave asked puzzled.
"Um... yeah big guy. You do remember I'm a psychic right?"
"Yeah yeah it's just that...I expected something a bit more...dramatic." He faced forward and folded his arms.
"You mean like me going into a violent stage of shock, my body thrashing wildly around, tongue hanging out and perhaps pissing myself?" Lincoln shot Dave a haunting glare.
"Well not that dramatic. I don't know I guess I was expecting something more. Anyway we got what we came for, time to go see the prick of an ex-boyfriend." Dave turned the key in the ignition and slowly pulled off the curb.
"Linc get on your little PDA thingy and lookup this Kevin Lansen."
"Sure thing." He pulled out his portable computer and keyed in Kevin Lansen on the touchscreen keyboard.
"OK got 3 results for a Kevin Lansen, let me narrow it down a bit... OK got em. The address is 776 Valcon Street, apartment 67C."
"Great. Key it into the GPS." Lincoln reached over and input the address into the GPS system on the dashboard of the vehicle.
"According to this we're about 10 minutes out. Keep driving until we reach Concord Street and turn right." Lincoln instructed.
"So how are you going to play this?" Dave asked. "I don't want any more surprises."
"Fine." Lincoln rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I'll be sure to let you know if I'm having a vision OK?"
"Great." Dave said.
"Yeah sure is" Lincoln shot back.
"Whatever" Dave responded.
"Well whatever to you too" Lincoln spat.
This bitter back and forth continued for awhile.
They arrived at the address on file and exited the vehicle. They walked up some metal stairs and proceeded to apartment 67C.
"You know Dave this partnership here will be A LOT easier if you don't act like a complete douchbag. I mean if you—"
"NO!!! HELP!!!"
A blood-curling shrill was heard from one of the apartments. Dave and Lincoln began to locate the source of the plea for help.
"SHUT UP BITCH! YOU HEAR ME?" A husky man's voice was heard.
"Dave?"
"Stay here!" Dave drew his firearm and sprinted further down the path, heading in the direction of the shouting."
"PLEASE STOP! I'M SORRY! I PROMISE IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN."
A loud smack was heard afterwards. Dave reached the end of the railing and heard shuffling near the apartment door he was standing in front of. Apartment 67C. He kicked in the door and was horrified at what he saw.
...