A Dish Best Served Cold Ch. 04

"Then let me show you," Felicity whispered.

She took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

Felicity took her time undressing Steve, making him wait, making him yearn for her. When she had him naked she dropped her robe and stood before him.

He reached for her and pulled her into his arms and he kissed her. Not hard. Not passionately. But softly, like she might be a china doll he was scared he would break. His hands went to her breasts and Felicity sighed when he cupped them, feeling their heft. His kiss became a little more intense when he unsnapped her bra and stroked her creamy globes. He worked her nipples, making them become engorged.

Steve put his mouth on her breasts and teased her teats with his tongue and his lips. She gasped when he nipped them gently but he wanted to kiss her. He loved kissing her and he put his mouth on hers and this time there was passion. He used his tongue on her and Felicity melted in his arms.

He draped her on the bed and used his mouth to explore her body, starting with her lips, working down to her breasts, across her flat belly and then he tickled the crease where her thighs joined her torso. She tasted just like she smelled; womanly and exotic. Felicity reached out and found him erect and dribbling precum. She sensed that he was not far from extremis and she was careful not to trigger his orgasm; she wanted him inside her when they came together for the first time.

She could sense Steve's hesitation as he licked the tender flesh near her groin. He knew what was inside her panties but he didn't know what to do about it.

"It works just like yours silly," Felicity teased him.

Steve slipped his fingers inside Felicity's panties. He was full of trepidation, excitement and wonder. He found her shaft pressed to her perineum, the skin silky and soft. He wasn't repulsed like he thought he might be; on the contrary he was inquisitive and excited.

When it sprang free and nearly hit him in the face he jerked away in surprise and Felicity giggled.

"You don't have to touch it if you don't want to. I understand," she whispered.

If it was any other person in the world undoubtedly Steve would be repelled but it was Felicity, the woman he was coming to adore.

"Oh my god!" Felicity moaned when Steve took her in his mouth.

He didn't know exactly what to do but he'd been fellated himself often enough to get the idea and given the moaning and squealing that was coming from Felicity's mouth he appeared to be doing ok. Felicity put her hands on Steve's face and made him slow down, he was bringing her close. She forced his face out of her groin and encouraged him to mount her and kiss her.

She wanted to feel his body on top his hers. She wanted to feel his hard muscled torso on her yielding breasts and his erect penis pressing against her own. He stroked her thighs, his fingertips caressing her stockings and she wrapped her legs around him and ground her pubis against his.

Felicity wriggled under him until his cock nestled between her buttocks and she looked up into his face, her eyes filled with devotion and promise. Steve kissed her and thrust forward, his glans finding her puckered sphincter.

"Now daring," she whispered in his ear and Steve slowly entered her.

Steve's glans opened her slippery bud and slipped inside her tight silken sheath.

"Give me more," she whispered and squeezed him with her arms and legs.

"I want more," she whispered and kissed him.

"I want you in me all the way," she sighed and rose her torso up off the bed to encourage him.

Steve slid his cock all the way inside her anus and began to shudder as he was wracked by an uncontrollable orgasm the likes of which he had never felt before. When Felicity quivered and convulsed in his arms and he felt her hot seed splash on his belly he orgasmed a second time, feeling felicity's cock pulsing and fluttering as she came with him.

She clung to him like a limpet, sobbing; holding him so tight that he thought she would crush him.

"Kiss me... please kiss me," she begged and Steve kissed her with every ounce of passion in his body.

They lay like that for what seemed like an eternity and then Steve found his second wind. Felicity felt him become fully tumescent inside her again and she lay back and opened her legs wide and stared up into his face as he began to fuck her. They stared into each other's eyes as Steve made love to her, kissing and clinging to each other as another orgasm washed over them both.

Later they lay on the bed exhausted, holding hands, staring at ceiling.

"You know they are going to catch you eventually Felicity. They have forensics on you and if a schmuck like me can work it out you can bet Penelope Bishop will too, given time. She's relentless, like a dog with a bone, and she's the most intelligent cop I know," Steve sighed.

"Then we had better make the most of the time we have together. I have never felt like I do now. I've never met a man who makes me feel like you do Steve," she kissed him and Steve pulled her close.

*****

Steve Randal had been reassigned back to homicide but Steve Edwards remained on the taskforce led by Penelope Bishop with her partner Silvia Bickle and CSI Tech Alice Leasingham. Bob Tanner had recalled Alice back into his CSI unit but he allowed Alice to work part time for Penelope.

Steve was still relegated to mostly grunt work, chasing down potential witnesses, crosschecking their statements and writing reports. Alice spent most of her time comparing the photos of the no-tell motel room against the videos she had found on Spencer Duvall's laptop. It matched most of videos that were not taken at Spencer's townhouse. They still had no DNA match for the non-secretor or the fingerprints taken from the Duvall crime scene and the evidence was sent to Houston for comparison with the forensic evidence from the Roach and Washington crime scene.

Penelope was scared that she was losing control of the case. Houston PD was putting pressure on Gary Rasmussen to declare that the two murders in Houston and the one in Balwyn had been committed by the same perpetrator or perpetrators and to hand their case over to Houston who would take the lead delegating Penelope's team to a supporting role.

Penelope tightened the reins on her small team and worked them harder. She even consented to giving Steve Edwards access to all of the evidence so that he could add his cognitive skills to the mix. Penelope was convinced they weren't far away from making a breakthrough but she just didn't know where the breakthrough would come from.

Steve was the duty task force officer when he got a call from the Desk Sergeant at Police Plaza in the early hours of the morning quickly followed by a call from Alice Leasingham. He wrote down the details and then called Penelope Bishop.

"Boss, sorry to call you so early but I got a call regarding a suspicious death at an apartment near the Balwyn Campus. They think it's linked to our case," Steve sat on the edge of his bed trying to digest the information he had been given.

"Ok, I'm up. Call Silvia and tell her to meet us at the scene, text me the address," Penelope yawned into the phone.

"Penelope, I don't think you want Silvia in on this. You're going to have to call her later but she can't attend the crime scene," Steve sighed.

"What the fuck are you talking about Steve? Silvia is my partner. I'd rather have her there than you," Penelope said angrily.

"The deceased is Melissa Doyle," Steve whispered hoarsely.

The phone went silent for a full minute.

"Boss? Boss? You there?" the concern in Steve's voice evident.

"Yes, I'm here. Say nothing to Silvia and I'll meet you at the scene. Has the Medical Examiner and CSI been informed?" Penelope's voice sounded shaky.

"They're already there. I'll see you there Lieutenant," Steve hung up the phone, stood up and stretched.

Penelope could discern how serious Steve was taking matters; he hardly ever called her Lieutenant. Bradley hadn't moved and was still fast asleep. As two cops living together they were immune to late night calls for the other partner.

She dressed and jumped into her BMW and punched the address that Steve had texted her into the GPS. She was at the scene within twenty minutes and found Steve waiting for her smoking a cigarette, he was holding two takeout coffees and he held one out to her as she approached the police tape.

The two detectives signed into the crime scene and put on the Tyvek booties and pulled out their gloves as they approached the small apartment that belonged to Melissa Doyle.

"The apartment is owned by the university and leased to Melissa Doyle long term because she has tenure. The rent is almost insignificant because it's part of the remuneration package they offer to tenured professors. Sweet deal," Steve explained.

"Not anymore," Penelope said sourly.

The apartment was pretty much what you would expect. The lounge room was small and cluttered with books and papers. A desk with a workstation dominated one corner. The small kitchen was pristine because Melissa had been spending most of her nights at Silvia Bickle's flat. An almost empty bottle of vodka and a single glass sat on the low table in front of the sofa.

Bob Tanner came out of the bedroom.

"Come on in," he beckoned them to the door.

Melissa Doyle lay naked on the bed on her side; her raven hair fanned across her shoulder, her skin was alabaster white. Her eyes were open and she was wearing her signature red lipstick; she could have been asleep.

"Hi Penelope," Brendan Scott was examining the body.

"Hi Brendan. I know it's early but any idea of the cause of death?" Penelope asked circling around the bed.

She could see for herself that everything looked normal. There were no signs of a struggle; no signs of disarray, there appeared to be no blood. There was however an empty bottle of barbiturates on the nightstand.

"I'm pretty sure that the autopsy will reveal an overdose of barbiturates and high level of alcohol indicating a likely suicide or very less likely death by misadventure. There are no contusions or marks on the body, no signs of sexual activity precluding rape," Brendan explained.

"Then why call the ME? A rookie straight out of the Academy would asses this as a suicide?" Penelope asked.

"Because of this," Alice Leasingham stuck her head out of the ensuite bathroom.

Both Brendan Scott and Bob Tanner gave her a knowing look but said nothing.

Penelope and Steve walked carefully around the bed to the tiny ensuite bathroom. Written on the mirror in red lipstick were the symbols Ā Ĥ П. A tube of lipstick the same colour as the writing on the mirror lay open on the vanity.

Penelope thought that she was going to faint; she held onto the vanity to support herself.

"Are you ok boss?" Steve asked and Alice rubbed Penelope's back and looked concerned.

After a few deep breaths Penelope regained her composure and straightened herself up.

"You knew didn't you Steve?" she turned to face Steve Edwards.

"Alice told me what she found over the phone but I thought it best for you to see it for yourself unprejudiced so you could make your own assumptions," Steve said gravely and Penelope suddenly had a new found respect for him.

"Anything else? I know it's early," she said to Alice.

"We found a red wig and a partially used box of .380 ammunition. We'll compare the hair fibres with those taken at Houston murder site and ballistics will compare the ammunition with casings and fragments from the motel," Alice said.

"CSI will go over this place with a fine tooth comb. I'll tap into her devices and see what Melissa was up to online and who she was communicating with," Alice said softly.

It was like all the air had sucked out of the room. Penelope's head was spinning again and she had to sit down.

Penelope knew that Alice was going to find the texts and emails that Melissa had sent her along with the calls made to her phone. She would have to come clean and let Alice know before she began her forensic investigation of Melissa's phone. Not that Penelope was too concerned, there was nothing that incriminated her but it meant she would have to tell Silvia about her relationship with Melissa and also tell Gary Rasmussen. The texts and emails would just add to the evidence that Melissa wasn't in a sound frame of mind but they would also reflect poorly on Penelope.

Penelope had betrayed her best friend and that was heart-breaking. Why had she met with Melissa that second time in the park? It was stupid!

Steve handed her a bottle of water from his coat, wiping the top before giving it to her.

"Thanks," she sighed, taking a long sip.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Penelope asked; her voice low and throaty.

"That's for you to decide boss. It's your case; your hypothesis," Steve said deferentially.

"Tell me," Penelope said brusquely.

"Ok. This is just me spitballing, we gotta wait for forensics and ballistics but... Melissa had motive, means and opportunity," Steve began to count out the three elements required to tender a prima facie murder case.

"She had motive. She had been raped by the five frat boys in the same shitty motel room where Benjamin Roach and Jamaal Washington were murdered. She also told you herself that as far as she was concerned that she hoped that whoever had killed Spencer Duvall would get away with it."

"She had means. The ammunition is going to match that found at the motel and I bet that wig matches the fibres. Will we ever find the gun? This is Texas; you can kick over a rock and find an unregistered firearm so we may never know where she got the pistol."

"As for opportunity: she lives right here in Balwyn so we will need to trace her movements on the night Spencer Duvall was murdered but more importantly we know that she was in Houston attending a seminar at the U when Washington and Roach were killed," Steve laid out his hypothesis.

"So why did she kill herself... if she did?" Penelope asked.

"I can't answer that Penelope. Unless they find a note it's almost impossible to get to the real reason why someone kills themselves. The other two frat boys are overseas so she may have thought the opportunity to seek revenge would run out before she got caught. She's sleeping with Silvia so she may have known that the noose was tightening or she may have just felt remorse," Steve offered.

"If Silvia was talking to her about the case, Melissa would have known that we were no closer to finding the killer than when we started the investigation and that we were still stymied by the DNA and fingerprint evidence," Penelope countered.

"Yeah but civilians watch those TV crime shows where models in Armani suits solve crimes by taking a fingernail clipping and putting it through a zillion dollar machine that tells them that the murderer is a left-handed albino dwarf who lives with his mother," Steve replied and Penelope couldn't help but smile.

The reality was that DNA broke down or became cross contaminated and fingerprints were subject to interpretation. Sometimes the most careful killer will leave trace evidence, like the Sleeping Beauty Killer who had worn a full body suit, and sometimes the sloppiest of killers gets lucky and leaves no trace evidence.

Penelope took a deep breath.

"Ok let's not jump to conclusions. I want this scene processed by the book and the evidence carefully analysed. Everything goes through me," Penelope barked and stood up.

"Now I have to go and tell Silvia," the pain in Penelope's voice was evident.

"You want me to come with?" Steve asked.

Again Penelope realised that she might have gotten off on the wrong foot with Steve Edwards; maybe he was a good cop and a nice guy after all. Twice now he had called her Penelope instead of Lieutenant or boss but she didn't mind the familiarity.

"This is one call I have to make alone Steve," Penelope gave him a grim smile.

"Then may I propose I hightail it down to Houston and chase down our rat-faced friend and show him a picture of Melissa Doyle and see if she's the woman he saw the night of the motel killings," Steve offered.

"What about Houston PD, it's their jurisdiction?" Penelope asked.

"Fuck Houston PD," Steve growled and Penelope smiled.

"Atta boy. Go for it Steve," Penelope picked up her purse and coat and prepared to have the most dreaded conversation of her life with her best friend and colleague.

*****

"Fuck me Penelope you can't take a victory can you? You wrapped up the case and put a bow on it," Gary Rasmussen sat behind his desk with his feet up.

"There are still too many loose ends as far as I am concerned," Penelope paced the floor of his office.

"Why did Melissa wait so long before she sought revenge?"

"We never found the gun and that ammunition can be purchased anywhere."

"We never identified the non-secretor from the Duvall crime scene and we only have a partial print from the motel which is inconclusive," Penelope counted out her doubts with her fingers.

"Who knows why she waited so long; the woman was clearly crazy," Gary countered.

"We hardly ever find the gun when the murderer has planned the crime; this isn't Law and Order," Gary growled.

"Duvall's apartment and the motel room had more DNA than a Las Vegas brothel; I shiver when I think of the amount of secretions spattered around those crime scenes. There was contamination and cross-contamination; nothing was conclusive," Gary imitated shivering.

"Besides which Missy; given the evidence found on Doyle's phone and laptop, if I were you, I'd be more than satisfied with the outcome. Those texts and emails are incriminating on their own. Any half-assed prosecutor could make a prima facie case against you for Melissa Doyle's murder," Gary said sharply.

"Anyway, we have the eye witness down in Houston who put Doyle at the murder scene," Gary said with some finality.

"Rat-face! That guy would sell his mother for a hit!" Penelope hissed.

"Steve Edwards took that witness's sworn statement. Houston PD has closed the case and informed the relatives and the media that Melissa Doyle killed those men as an act of revenge and then killed herself and in thirty minutes the Chief is going on TV and saying the same thing," Gary pushed himself out his chair and reached for his coat.

"We have motive, means and opportunity and as far as I'm concerned those lipstick hieroglyphics on her mirror are a confession."

"Take the fucking win and go on vacation Bishop. Get that FBI poster boy to propose to you or I'm going to divorce Mary and propose to you myself," Gary patted Penelope on the back.

"Silvia hates me," Penelope shuffled her feet.

"Silvia has a U-Haul parked permanently in her driveway. She'll find comfort elsewhere and soon," Gary reached for the door handle.

"Get out of here Bishop. I'm logging you out on two weeks' vacation," Gary opened the door and ushered her out of his office.

*****

"You didn't kill her did you?" Felicity Benson lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

Steve Edwards lay in bed beside her, lazily stroking her flat stomach.

"Fuck no honey! What do you take me for?" he objected.

"I went around to her place to question her. In Houston I found all those texts that Melissa had sent to Bishop and I figured there might be an angle there. She was lying dead on the bed; she'd left her front door open," Steve explained.

"She left a note for Bishop proclaiming her unrequited love. It took me thirty seconds to seize the opportunity. I wrote the Eta Lambda Pi bullshit on her mirror with her lipstick and purchased the ammunition at a store across town and took the red wig out of your drag closet," Steve's hand drifted up Felicity's torso and he cupped her breast.

"Rat-face took the five hundred and confirmed it was Melissa Doyle he saw in the parking lot wearing that red wig. He's since gone on a long vacation," Steve said with a finality that Felicity had intent to question.