Tick Tock Part Three - Dock

A Change of Badge

Two days passed. On the plus side, no other bodies had dropped. On the downside, they still had no real suspects in mind. Forensics had gotten back to them to confirm that the liver and kidneys had been surgically removed, as Nines suspected. They also hadn't found any drugs besides red ice in Tracey's blood. They did, however, discover how she had been incapacitated. The area at the base of her skull had been crushed, paralysing her completely. Reed didn't even want to think about whether she'd been conscious during the ordeal. It was too much like what had happened to Edward Morgan. Hearing his muffled pleas and whimpers as the Hickory Killer slowly sliced and stabbed his soft tender innards. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Frozen. He closed his eyes as Nines' hand closed over the back of his neck, attuned to his mood as ever.

"Thanks," Reed murmured as he heard the ceramic tap on his desk. Nines was back in his chair by the time he opened his eyes and picked up the steaming mug. As usual, he leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply, savouring the rich scent of Nines' coffee. It was almost a morning ritual at this point, whether at home or at work. That first coffee, those quiet few minutes, were vital to his fucking sanity, especially when he was pissed about a case. Unfortunately, they didn't have infinite time to keep working on cases like Tracey's.

They'd sent alerts to local hospitals about the organs that had been taken, so if random organs suddenly showed up, they'd be able to guess where they'd come from and alert the DPD. The problem was that black market goods like this usually went to private doctors. The types who knew, or at least suspected, where those organs had come from and did the surgeries anyway. People who were easily bought with large amounts of money. There was also a good chance the organs would be shipped off to other states, which meant they'd never track them down.

It was as he was stewing over those details that Connor and Hank arrived, walking a little closer than usual. Hank had an arm looped around Connor's shoulder, and Connor was doing his best not to smile too much, though he was almost beaming. Hank ruffled his hair affectionately as they split off to sit at their own desks. It wasn't unusual to see Connor looking chipper, but he was almost brimming with positivity as he sat down and booted up his terminal. Reed raised a questioning eyebrow at Nines and nodded towards his overly cheerful brother. The small smile on Nines' lips told him he was the only one left out of the loop.

He shrugged and sipped his coffee, deciding to ask Connor about it later if he got the chance. He wasn't curious enough to pounce on him the moment he sat down. There were a few other things he had to do, like responding to yet another email from a new officer asking for help. This one wasn't even homicide related. Since when do drug crimes come to me for help? He looked over the details anyway. Seemed pretty simple. Advice on the key places to look when searching a perp's apartment. It was stuff that got covered at the academy, but more experienced officers always knew the more likely places, along with some that you may not expect. His personal favourite was inside the PC tower. The heat and fans often masked the smell, tricking the dogs as they searched.

"Reed!" Fowler hollered from across the bullpen. He looked up questioningly, still cradling his mug. He was quietly feeling guarded around Fowler right now. It had only been a couple of days since he'd implied he may have ordered Nines to break the law. Fowler was oblivious as he nodded to his office, expression unreadable. Reed looked across at Nines, who hadn't been called to follow. Nines seemed as clueless as he was. Taking a final gulp of coffee, Reed hurried across the bullpen. He missed the way Hank's blue eyes were following him with the smallest of smirks. "Take a seat," Fowler invited as he crossed to sit behind his desk.

"Is this about Yates again? Because if it is I-" Fowler cut him off with a raise of his hand and shook his head. He let out a breath at that, immediately feeling more at ease. If it wasn't related to Stan's case, then it was unlikely that he was in trouble. He hadn't stepped on anyone else's toes recently. His days of android discrimination were behind him, and he'd actually been getting on a lot better with all of his co-workers recently. There was nothing he could think of that would have landed him in trouble. So why am I here? A new case? Something more sensitive?