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Language:
English
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Published:
2013-11-21
Completed:
2013-11-21
Words:
23,750
Chapters:
19/19
Comments:
6
Kudos:
75
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11
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2,219

Persistence

Summary:

Three years after Alex’s “death” Olivia still searches. Her quest leads her to Philadelphia consequently teaming her up with Det. Lilly Rush and the rest of the Cold Case squad. On a case fraught with twists, turns, and tensions Olivia is steadfast in her conviction to bring Alex home again.

Chapter 1: The Blue Nowhere

Chapter Text

NEW YORK CITY

Elliot pushed his chair away from the desk and groaned.

“Get out of here.”

“Cap will kill us if we don’t get this done tonight.”

“I’ll do it. Just go.”

“Liv…”

“Go home to your family, Elliot.”

He stared at her, not so much confused but waiting for her to say something else to ease his conscience. She was holding him at arms length, making him read between the lines. Nobody is waiting up for me.

She could use what seemed like the longest day of her life as an excuse for her stoicism, but lately every day seemed to come with its own set of annoyances and obstacles that she was ill-equipped to deal with.

He hovered in the doorway. “See you tomorrow.”

She kept her eyes down, too tired to look up from the stack of paperwork. “Yep. ‘Night.”

As her partner’s footsteps faded, Olivia exhaled. The act, as much as it was failing, required more upkeep than she had in the reserves. Elliot’s constant coddling since Alex’s death was honorable and sweet, but irritating all the same.

She looked at the phone, wishing she had someone to call. Don’t wait up for me, she’d say reluctantly. Her lover would be groggy and Olivia would be able to feel her sleepy warmth through the crackling telephone connection. She pulled her hand away from the receiver.

Sometimes she’d dial Alex’s number in the middle of the night and listen to the automated operator tell her she had made a mistake. Last week she dialed it and someone answered. Even phone numbers have second lives.

She typed in the only number she knew better than Alex’s phone number. Her case number. It was habit now. She’d stare at the status and check the access logs, hoping to see movement. It was wrong, she knew, to be policing the police, but she was past the point of reason.

The database was always fast this time of night, still she tapped her pen impatiently on the desk.

 

PHILADELPHIA

Nine years and a lye laced burial had leeched the evidence from Mary Marks’ body, Lilly cracked the case. She went from witness to witness collecting the facts that would eventually damn her man. Jerome Dixon had been stalking young Mary for a year and nobody put it together. But ten years after Dixon had set eyes on his prey, Lilly had pieced it together. Relentless like an itch in an open wound—it had to be scratched.

She sat—self-satisfied—at her desk, not ready to leave her glory at the office so soon. She was an honorable woman with pure intentions but damn if it didn’t feel good to solve a cold case.

“Detective Rush?” Lilly’s smile faded. “This just came for you.”

A manila envelope slid across her desktop.

“Thanks.”

She traced a finger along the neat cursive lettering, studying it. She tried to guess its contents, hoping for a thank you card or a happy family photo in spite of what she instinctively knew awaited her within its crisp confines.

Another cryptic note? Another I did it, signed Anonymous? Couldn’t she be selfish just this once and bask in her victory longer than the length of the walk from central booking to her desk?

Maybe next time. She ripped open the envelope.

 

NEW YORK

Olivia sat on the countertop flipping through a tattered Guns & Ammo as she waited for the coffee to brew. She checked her watch when in all reality the time was of no concern to the detective. This was her life.

Brewing coffee at 1am—having already consumed the leftover 12 hour sludge after the unit emptied, reading Guns & Ammo, eating stale powdered donuts out of her bottom desk drawer and obsessively searching for Alex. Sometimes she’d skulk home for a few hours of sleep, but the crash room was just as homey in a pinch. It was a bland existence—one full of regrets, disappointments and dead ends.

The computer beeped.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and hopped off the counter. Her search program hadn’t found any hits, Alex’s case file, on the other hand, was being accessed. A whirlwind of keystrokes sounded through the squad room as she correlated the IP address and set about tracing it.

Three years ago she had no idea what an IP address was much less how to trace one, but necessity is the mother of invention and desperation was the detective’s greatest motivator. And so Olivia had deciphered much of the hacker lingo effectively demystifying the internet and as a result her police issue computer had become an invaluable resource. She knew the answers were out there, she just had to find them in the dearth of information. Alex was alive, contrary to what her file said, and Olivia would find her.

A few pings later and Olivia had the address of the information-seeker.

Philadelphia P.D.

Her first lead in months. She scribbled the user’s login ID and terminal number on a scrap of paper. The three fact finding missions prior had quashed the hope that abounded each time such an opportunity presented itself. And in those disappointments she was now certain that Alex had never set foot in San Diego, California, Tempe, Arizona, nor Portland, Maine.

“Philadelphia,” she whispered with an excitement that she’d assumed was gone for good.

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