Disclaimer: The X-Men characters,
and all other recognizable characters are copyright to Marvel
Entertainment Group. This work of FanFiction is not meant
to infringe on that copyright or defame Marvel Comics or the
X-Men and related characters in any way.
Copyright: No copying, distributing or editing of this
material is permitted without the express permission of the
creator, K-Nice, under United States copyright law. Just ask,
Iíll probably say yes, if not, Iíll definitely make pleasant
I must insist that people who are bothered by violence and
rape issues refrain from reading this story. This post in
particular does not contain anything graphic but there are
continual references. Please, spare yourself.
For my Whitewolf, my beta/buddy. For my MaulSisters.
Blood and Bone
By 6 am, Ororo had removed all traces of Remy's stay. Impeccably
dressed in off-white from hair clip to high heels, she had
coffee and rolls set out in the breakfast nook She was at
the door before the first set of knocks was finished.
br> "'Ro." Forge had his long black hair pulled back to the
nape of his neck, but Storm could still envision the way it
fell about his shoulders when he let it down.
"Forge. Thanks for coming." Opening the door wide, she had
to cover by leaning against it when he ignored her unspoken
"Kitty's waiting in the car. What's the urgent problem, 'Ro?"
Feigning annoyance, the Technical Supervisor for the City
of New York scanned his ex-fiancee's apartment for signs of
her new life without him.
Ororo paused for two heart beats. If he didn't want to be
there he could have told her so, or even just answered her
question over the phone. Instead he suggested breakfast at
her place. Unless Kitty had nixed the idea, he'd obviously
had something to prove from the start. "The database keeps
giving me an error message every time I do a fingerprint search.
I did three different prints and still no results except "Malfunction"
or "Record Unavailable " or some other nonsense."
"It'll do that for a while. We're changing the system over
which is leading to a lot of silly malfunctions on routine
searches." He quirked his eyebrows as if to ask it this was
a routine search, but she wouldn't rise to his bait. "All
law enforcement prints are being put in a different database.
That saves a lot of time. Instead of searching for contamination
prints left by shoddy investigating, the focus is on finding
perp or victim identification." It was a casual version of
a speech he gave to one department head or another at least
once a day.
"And it keeps Mayor Richards convinced that he is responsible
for wiping out ineptitude in the NYPD." Ororo's lip curled
slightly, doing little to mar her attractive features.
"I don't play politics, 'Ro, you know that." He couldn't
meet her cat-blue eyes at that moment, not even for money
or unlimited RAM.
"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for coming. Do say hello to Kitty
for me." Detective Munroe nearly slammed the door on his outstretched
hand, until she noticed the card between his fingers.
"Send the fingerprint samples down to me at this office.
I'll what I can do about bypassing the glitches." The smile
was genuine but only polite: No hard feelings.
"Certainly. Good morning." None here either, you arrogant
cheating pig. Ororo turned to close the door again.
"Good morning, 'Ro." She sealed the door on his back and
went back to the kitchen for another cup of strong tea.
Dr. Cassidy had already planned on working long into the
morning, likely to the chagrin of her husband, who Remy remembered
vaguely from the Academy. Her assistant, Jamie Maddrox sat
at a desk playing solitaire.
Moira was examining the wooden spikes from the vic's palms
and comparing them to the wooden crates Remy had picked up
from the evidence locker. Shifting through a black bag full
of assorted alley trash was a rough way to start the morning.
Maddrox huffed and hahhed at his boss and the detective that
was keeping them at the office so late.
Stepping away, Remy tried not to pace. He only wanted confirmation
of Detective Munroe's theory. It would change the whole way
this incident was handled and he had to have some solid evidence
before he went to Summers.
"Yup. It's the same wood. Under the scope you can see the
way the grains match up even though the edges don't. See,
the spike has been smoothed down a bit with a rough file of
some sort." Moira invited him to look for himself and Remy
did, not really comprehending what he was looking at. He trusted
Cassidy's judgment and she had given him all the information
he wanted. "So, what does that mean, detective?"
"I'm not sure but I'm gonna find out." Remy shook her hand
in thanks and made his way to the elevator. He ran right into
Dr. Summers as the doors opened.
"Just the lady I wanted to see. Did Scott tell you about
the new case?" Edging his way close to her so they would have
some semblance of privacy, Remy kept his tone hushed and below
the interest of their fellow passengers.
The stubborn cant of her jaw said yes and at length. "I heard
about it. I thought I would come in and try to figure this
thing out. " Her shoulders were set with determination and
Remy would have sympathized with her discomfiture if his case
wasn't riding on whether she was right or not.
"Just so you know, Detective Munroe and I think you were
on the right track. He was finished, but something made him
break from pattern this time. We were hoping you could tell
us what happened. Or at least give us a clue." They stepped
off the elevator together and he took her coat to the rack
bef ore she answered.
"Let me take a look at what you have so far." Jean brightened
visibly, no longer defensive, ready to tackle this new wrinkle.
Setting her up at a desk with the file folder, Remy rooted
around his desk for the crime scene photographs. "Pics?"
Ororo stepped out of Lt. Summers office. "They aren't here
"Did you find out about the error message?" He really shouldn't
care if she still had a thing for Forge. It was her business,
he was just her partner. Even if the lying dog was no good
"Yes. Basically the database is confused by the print. Forge
is going to run it for me sometime today." She tried to catch
his eye but he was still casing his own desk.
"Listen, I'm gonna run down to the ME's see if they have
anything and find the pictures. You gonna be alright? " He
narrowed his eyes, trying to look past the calm and cool and
see her soul rattling around inside.
"I've got plenty to do sorting these street interviews. I
should have a few to call in for questioning so I'll be fine."
She indicated the stack of papers on her desk and Remy winced.
He really did need to do more of the paperwork, but she didn't
seem to mind this time. And they needed those pics.
"See ya later." He grabbed his coat and hung it over his
He was half out the door when Ororo spoke up again. "Watch
yourself around Reyes. She's got your number."
Remy smirked ruefully. "You really think so?"
"I know so." Ororo paused. "Your badge number is a matter
of public record." She ducked her head and swiveled her chair
back into position. Bad joke aside, Summers was known to give
rather comprehensive speeches that usually began with your
ancestry and ended with your sexual habits when he received
a complaint against a member of his squad.
"Ha. Ha. I'll be back."
In the sterile cold of the Medical Examiner's office, Detective
Lebeau caught sight of Reyes behind Associate to the ADA Robert
Drake. They moved away from each other a bit too quickly,
but Remy wasn't big on gossip. Information, yes, but he liked
to keep these trivial things as an ace up his sleeve. Mussing
his light brown hair, Drake excused himself to the coffee
station just on the edge of earshot.
"What do you want?" Reyes was all attitude again, not surprisingly.
She had probably run into the wall of silence already, which
only increased her general irritation with the world.
"Where are the photogs, petite? Forensics didn't have them
and you were the first one on the scene with a flash bulb."
Remy hung back, knowing how she responded to physical intimidation.
He had checked the front page of the Bugle earlier to make
certain Parker hadn't gotten anything printable.
Reyes turned away and snatched a brown envelope of 3 x 5's
from the counter behind them. "I didn't even get them blown
up yet, feo."
"I'll take care of it. Did you find anything more since last
night?" The short report had been minimal, superficial. The
final exam and analysis had the data they really needed.
"Yeah, lots." Their personal dislike was as forgotten as
it was foundless. "It was hard to tell by the initial exam,
well, you saw her so you know. Anyway, substance testing shows
semen in the vaginal area, what's left of it anyway."
Lebeau stared in disbelief. Carpenter was all out of his
pattern. First the rush job on the spikes, now he'd added
rape to his repertoire.
Seeing his expression, Reyes forestalled his interruption,
"There's more. The slashes across the skirt and vest are different
from the ones on rest of the body -- a completely different
weapon was used." Reyes handed him gloves and then the took
the clothes themselves out of the evidence bag.
Turning them over in his hands, Lebeau examined the cloth.
"Most of the body stabs were from a kitchen knife but the
clothes have the kind of edges made by a serrated edge. Some
of the wounds would indicate a rougher edge, but there are
so many overlaps its hard to pinpoint." Forgetting about Carpenter
for the minute, Remy started looking at the evidence with
"I think she was raped, violently, and then the pig got wicked
with his butcher knife." Reyes quirked an eyebrow, looking
for some confirmation of her investigative skills.
"That's a possibility." Lebeau was distant. Knowing her explanation
didn't account for the two blade types, he was already trying
work up a new scenario that fit Carpenter's profile and MO.
"Something wrong, Detective?" Drake was suddenly alert, keenly
aware of a case at its crux point.
"Nah, it's nothing, just caught off-guard is all." Remy pulled
himself back into the conversation, charming grin in place.
"So, how long before you have something for me? " Drake made
a point of looking nonchalant, but Remy was pretty sure he
wasn't in the loop.
"Soon Drake, don't push it."
"Hey, ADA Frost is already on my back about this one for
some reason." Drake looked truly baffled. In his eyes, hookers
died everyday, what was so special about this one.
"Great, just great." Remy mumbled as he walked out, tossing
at absentee "Thanks," over his shoulder at Reyes.
Alone in the hall, Lebeau tapped the photos out onto his
palm, his mind churning. The itch-burn was back flaming his
skull as he flicked through the compartmentalized photos.
His hands stopped of their on volition on a close-up head
White and red.
White and red on the same head.
Falling back against the wall, his hands shook has her tried
to regain is focus over the raging storm in his ears. Straining
to concentrate on the present, Lebeau was flash flooded as
images of red and white hair burned across his consciousness.
Rebecca was in Sex Crimes, which had absorbed part of the
Vice Squad under the recent restructuring.
Vice, which had undercover cops working to bring down johns,
pimps and drug dealers.
Vice, which was out of the loop on the Carpenter case.
Bile rose in his throat. White and Red. He forced himself
to look at the photo, to examine it coolly and dispassionately,
but he couldn't call up his professionalism right then. He
had to settle for not descending into horrified screams as
he focused on the nightmare before him.
The face was bludgeoned and even with his eyes so hot, he
could see the white of exposed bone against the red, the red
of blood staining the victims platinum blond hair. The tension
binding his mind and body stuttered away with a gasp and his
flesh was suddenly under his own power again.
Panting with relief, Remy stuffed the pictures back in the
envelope. Deep breaths failed to ease the continued tightness
in his skull.
Continued in Chapter
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