Phil's mother with my partner a few months after Phil's fifth birthday," he said, flashing a guy speeding past the cruiser. The guy immediately slowed down. "She smiled at me and invited me to join them. I walked out, took Phil, and filed for divorce that afternoon." He sighed as he waited for the traffic lights to change, rubbing his forehead. "So I know how it feels, to walk in on that. Somehow, the image of her riding Gareth burned deeper into my memory than a hundred grisly murders."
"It's a bit of a different situation, though," she said, staring at the snow beginning to fall. "Jamie…"
"No doubt this affair has been going on for months, Liz. I'm sorry, but I think your son's murder loosened him up a bit, drove him away from you." He pulled into the station's parking lot. "I've seen it countless times. When people lose a child, their marriages fall apart; sometimes straight away, sometimes over years. They blame each other, or they find that they don't have anything in common anymore, or they realize they just can't stand the sight of the other, and their relationship never recovers."
Liz sighed through her nose, imitating the sergeant. "So what do you think I should do?"
"Well, burying his convertible in a ton of horse shit is a good place to start, though I don't think you want to ruin that car." The man smiled, clearly joking. "Talk it out with him. But don't do it when you're overemotional or when you're tired. If you can't trust him, then there's no reason to stay. Give it a couple of weeks, maybe. You can stay with me until you get it sorted out."
"Thanks, Bill," she said, giving him a hug. "Your advice and support mean a lot."
"We're all a little stupid sometimes, Liz," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leading her inside. "You'll have to face Lisa eventually, too."
"Thanks, but I don't really want to speak to her." She rubbed at her arms. "She's a bitch."
"That's too bad, because you two are going to have to keep working together. I have no one to swap you with."
"Keep me on the desk job," she muttered, dropping behind her small desk, which was covered in overdue paperwork.
Bill walked into the little kitchenette to make coffee, and shouted out, "You have to talk to her, whether you like it or not. You'll have to do it eventually."
Liz sighed in frustration and rubbed at her face. "Fine. I'll talk to her if it will get you off my back." And when I do, I'm going to tell that cow to go straight to hell. If they think I'm going to work with her ever again after this, they have another thing coming.
Bill nodded, shuffling through things on his desk. The door to his office was open, allowing her to hear him from two desks away. Her desk sat between the kitchen and his office, almost at the mid-way point, so she could be comfortable while he walked around the room talking to her.
Liz looked at the pile of paperwork smothering her in-tray and sighed again. Might as well get something done.
Suddenly the doors to the atrium opened and Phil rushed in. Liz glanced up, recognized him, and went back to her paperwork, determined to ignore him. He stumbled up to her, puffing, and stopped in front of her desk.
"Jesus, Liz, where the hell were you?" he demanded, stepping around to give her a hug. She continued to ignore him, holding up a single finger to stop him touching her.
"I was with Jamie, where else would I have been?" she asked, filing away a couple of papers for later reference. She noted a complete lack of Holiday Killer files in her pile, and it made her smile a little to know she'd stopped that creature's rampage on the innocent with the death of Mark Windsor.
"I was worried about you! I had the police out looking for you!" He sat down at the chair next to her desk, scooting as close as he could to her. He reached out to touch her shoulder and she pulled another piece of paper toward her, as though she hadn't noticed him touch her arm.
"Phil," Bill called, leaning against the doorway
"It's a bit of a different situation, though," she said, staring at the snow beginning to fall. "Jamie…"
"No doubt this affair has been going on for months, Liz. I'm sorry, but I think your son's murder loosened him up a bit, drove him away from you." He pulled into the station's parking lot. "I've seen it countless times. When people lose a child, their marriages fall apart; sometimes straight away, sometimes over years. They blame each other, or they find that they don't have anything in common anymore, or they realize they just can't stand the sight of the other, and their relationship never recovers."
Liz sighed through her nose, imitating the sergeant. "So what do you think I should do?"
"Well, burying his convertible in a ton of horse shit is a good place to start, though I don't think you want to ruin that car." The man smiled, clearly joking. "Talk it out with him. But don't do it when you're overemotional or when you're tired. If you can't trust him, then there's no reason to stay. Give it a couple of weeks, maybe. You can stay with me until you get it sorted out."
"Thanks, Bill," she said, giving him a hug. "Your advice and support mean a lot."
"We're all a little stupid sometimes, Liz," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leading her inside. "You'll have to face Lisa eventually, too."
"Thanks, but I don't really want to speak to her." She rubbed at her arms. "She's a bitch."
"That's too bad, because you two are going to have to keep working together. I have no one to swap you with."
"Keep me on the desk job," she muttered, dropping behind her small desk, which was covered in overdue paperwork.
Bill walked into the little kitchenette to make coffee, and shouted out, "You have to talk to her, whether you like it or not. You'll have to do it eventually."
Liz sighed in frustration and rubbed at her face. "Fine. I'll talk to her if it will get you off my back." And when I do, I'm going to tell that cow to go straight to hell. If they think I'm going to work with her ever again after this, they have another thing coming.
Bill nodded, shuffling through things on his desk. The door to his office was open, allowing her to hear him from two desks away. Her desk sat between the kitchen and his office, almost at the mid-way point, so she could be comfortable while he walked around the room talking to her.
Liz looked at the pile of paperwork smothering her in-tray and sighed again. Might as well get something done.
Suddenly the doors to the atrium opened and Phil rushed in. Liz glanced up, recognized him, and went back to her paperwork, determined to ignore him. He stumbled up to her, puffing, and stopped in front of her desk.
"Jesus, Liz, where the hell were you?" he demanded, stepping around to give her a hug. She continued to ignore him, holding up a single finger to stop him touching her.
"I was with Jamie, where else would I have been?" she asked, filing away a couple of papers for later reference. She noted a complete lack of Holiday Killer files in her pile, and it made her smile a little to know she'd stopped that creature's rampage on the innocent with the death of Mark Windsor.
"I was worried about you! I had the police out looking for you!" He sat down at the chair next to her desk, scooting as close as he could to her. He reached out to touch her shoulder and she pulled another piece of paper toward her, as though she hadn't noticed him touch her arm.
"Phil," Bill called, leaning against the doorway
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