New Perspective - Olivia and Mona

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

Olivia had grown accustomed to the sharp pain that rippled up and across her back from countless hours of hunching over paperwork. She’d grown accustomed to the countless stares from her co-workers as she emerged from her office in the morning clutching her third cup of coffee before they’d even poured their first. She’d even grown accustomed to the ungodly arch of her Italian stilettos. But, there was something Olivia was not accustomed to: the brick wall.

The brick wall is a cop’s worst nightmare. It comes about when all the reports have been read over a dozen times, when all the evidence has been examined once, twice, eight times, when the murder board has been stared at for hours with no avail, and most importantly it comes about when you haven’t slept in three days. It’s what happens when there are too many dead ends and not enough trails.

Craning her neck, Olivia took another glance at the whiteboard covered in black marker. She shrugged figuring it might finally be time to call in the cavalry. Loading up all the folders into her arms she carried them with a grimace to the elevator. Riding it down a couple floors she reemerged in her least favorite place in the whole building. It was a place that Olivia fondly referred to as The Psychological Department of Misery and Degradation, although it probably had a proper name. She didn’t care enough to figure it out.

Knocking on the first door she could find, for Olivia didn’t really care which therapist was around to help, or were they called psychological analysts these days? What ever. So long as it wasn’t that bitch doctor she’d been forced to see for the last few months she was fine. Shifting her weight from foot to foot she waited, silently hoping that someone was up as late as she was. There was a light shinning beneath the door frame so she figured that was a yes.

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona hated working late, but as the youngest out of everyone in the building, she was forced to what others didn't want to do. At only 17 and still a high school student, she was very young to be working in the same building as 30 and 40 years old. But she was smarter then most of the people who even set foot in the whole department. Not many people her age could get a job as a therapist, while still getting a degree and interning at 4 different work offices. Not to mention her volunteer work with the suicide patients. Yes, she was a very busy, very over worked girl, but man did she love what she did. She didn't plan to stay with the department for long, she truly wanted to open her own practice, and work with those like her who have a trouble past dealing with their parents and sexuality.

Mona sat at her desk in the cramped office. Being the youngest also meant that she got the smallest office, with the smallest desk, with the crapiest lighting. She sighed as she looked over the case files that sat in front of her. She opened the folder and had to hold in her lunch. She had told officers repeatedly not to put the pictures of the victims on the top of the papers, it made her sick. That was one of the things that Mona couldn't wait to get out of her life. Pictures of the dead that she had to analyze and look at, to see if the suspect was insane or not. And the worst cases were always pushed to her, yet again because she was the youngest.

Mona grabbed her cup of coffee and drank it slowly as she read over the police report of the incident. She took her pen and made small red marks on the sections of the paper that sounded like a mental issue. It was a standard mugging case go wrong. The person pleading insanity was an idiot, no jury or judge would believe that he was insane. It was just to petty of a crime. So many people just thought they got away with every little thing, because they were "insane". Those people were always the ones who had no common sense. Mona didn't even waste time reading past the first page, she knew that this man could not be insane. He was just too...mundane.

Mona looked up at the door as she heard a knocking, it was strange for anyone to be at her door this late at night. Well it was rare for anyone to come to her door at all. She wasn't very sociable with people. She let out a soft sounding sigh and yelled out towards the door.

"Come in"

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

Smoothing the front of her blouse, Olivia figured it would be nice to look a little less disheveled when showing up at a stranger’s door at this hour. Her jeans were a dark, faded blue while her shirt was crisp and white. She used to stay away from whites, what with her interns usually being so clumsy and the amount of coffee she drinks on a daily basis. Let’s just say that as soon as she made it to Detective she went out and bought a whole new wardrobe. Most of the interns in the precinct are too afraid to come anywhere near Olivia nowadays, let alone her clothes. She’s what the authorities call determined and the criminals call a nightmare.

Her therapist calls her two aspirins.

Clutching the paperwork in one arm and a hot cup of coffee in the other, Olivia waited outside the door. She heard a voice call out to her to come in. It took her a moment to figure out how to open the door, considering she didn’t have a third arm. But, after a moment she managed to balance in the cup in the crease of her elbow and turn the handle without spilling her precious caffeine all over the ground.

The room was tiny; more like a broom closet than an office. Olivia’s brow furrowed a little bit, wondering if she had walked into the wrong room. But, even in the dim light she could make out a desk and a woman. A young woman with thick, dark hair. A very, very young woman. Olivia paused for just a moment, soaking it all in. She looked like a child, although it was clear she was quite mature for her age. After a moment, she shrugged it off, knowing she had better things to worry about. “Hi, Detective Athos, Olivia Athos. I work upstairs.” Olivia felt bad that she sort of just spouted out a bunch of words at the girl, but, it was necessary, in her opinion, to get the introductions over quickly.

“I don’t usually do this but, I’m kind of in a rut. Do you mind looking over a few bits of paperwork? I’m working on three big cases right now, and I could really use a second pair of eyes.” . It was hideously late, Olivia knew but, she was hoping that this girl, no matter her age, was game for a little challenge.

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona got up quickly and rushed over to the women and grabbed the stacks of papers and files from Olivia. She set them down on the desk before turning back to her and taking to coffee cup gently so not to spill it. It would be a shame for it to spill over on both their clothes. Mona's black pencil skirt showed off her long legs with the help of her tall heels. Her blouse was cut to show off her shoulders but the sleeves went down the her wrists in a flowing passion. She looked professional, yet young. She learned quickly that you get more places if you look like you knew what you were doing. How did you think so many doctors actually got jobs? Of course with Mona she actually did know what she was doing, call it a gift but she had a knack to seeing inside peoples souls. Sometimes Mona wished that she wasn't so good at her job, it left her with some horrible nightmares.

She quickly looked the woman up and down with a gentle ease. She looked confident, and extremely tired. Mona could relate, she didn't get much sleep during the week, which was why she spent her weekends blissfully in a sleeping coma in her nice warm bed. Most of the time, unless Lo woke her up to drag her out of the apartment. Lo had a habit of doing that. Mona felt a smile fall on her face when she thought of her best friend. She had already called the club and told them to leave a message with Lo that she probably wouldn't be home. Now Mona knew for certain that she wouldn't be home.

Mona was used to it.

Mona put the Coffee down for Olivia and reached out a hand for the woman to shake, "Hello Monica Dragoti, but you can call me Mona. The woman's hand was warm in Mona's as she shook firmly. Mona smiled at her warmly, she knew that many people needed a connection to work well together. Using her nickname would help that connection along. Mona showed Olivia to the chair that sat in front of her desk and sat in her hard uncomfortable chair behind it. She looked at the files and papers before moving her original work into a filing cabinet next to her desk. She took the first paper and scanned the page, making small mental notes.

"Well Detective Athos, I would be glad to help you with the cases. I just need to know exactly what you would like me to do. My expertise is with the mind, not evidence and things like such. I can build you a suspect profile, that would analyze what you should look in when trying to find the criminal. Anything I can do to help I will try my hardest on. " Mona looked at Detective Athos with a determined look in her eyes. She would not back down to this challenge. No matter the cost.

[DETECTIVE OLIVIA ATHOS]

Mona. Thank god for Mona. Olivia sighed in relief as the young woman lifted the heavy weight of papers off her chest… literally. Not to mention her coffee cup. And she didn’t spill it either. This was shaping up to be a good night already. “Olivia, please.” she smiled. Then it occurred to her, Olivia had never, ever told someone to call her Olivia. She much preferred Detective Athos, it commanded respect. But, there was just something about this woman that caught Olivia off guard. Was she feeling at ease? Holy shit. What was this world coming to?

Shaking the thought from her head, Olivia slid into the chair across from Mona and began sifting through several files. She ignored the coroner’s reports because she’d already determined the M.O. Instead, she pulled out the victim profiles and a selection of photographs of the women prior to their deaths. Laying them out on the table she took a deep breath. Mona was a go-getter and Olivia was thrilled. “Our murder has killed seven different women in the last month. I’ll spare you the gory details because, his methods aren’t exactly what you’d call pleasant. He’s methodical, domineering, and worse unpredictable.”

Olivia sipped at her coffee. Reaching for another file she pulled out a list she’d made of several key qualities and evidence. “The problem I’m having is that, he hasn’t left a single piece of DNA evidence at any of the sites and I can’t find a connection between the women for the life of me. If you have the time, I have the information. I don’t think it will take to long with two minds working on it. I’ve just been staring at it for too long and needed a fresh pair of eyes to look things over.”

Olivia knew this might not be a quick excursion. Hell, this could take hours, days even. Olivia had been working on this case for weeks and nothing was clicking into place. She deeply hoped that having a non-detective look over some of these clues would spark something. Sometimes you just had to look at something from a different angle. Mona was that angle. “This is Lucy Freemont.” She pulled out a photo of a blonde woman. “She is, er, was a waitress. Here is Natalie Montgomery. She was an investment banker.” Natalie was a brunette. “Lauren Cabot was a student at NYU studying fashion.” She had lighter brown hair and a smile that said “yes-I-am-a-cheerleader-and-yes-I-love-the-color-pink” “Holly J. Reynolds, a bakery owner.” Holly had bright, flaming red hair, freckles and a toothy grin. “Jean Anderson, a nurse, and Georgia Rodriquez, a shop assistant at Bloomingdales.” Jean’s bright blue eyes matched the color of her hospital gown and Georgia, well Georgia was from a tough neighborhood so the scowl etched on her face probably wasn’t her fault.

“None of the victims appear to have any connection to one another. But, who knows, maybe we can shake something loose.” Olivia gave Mona a moment to let this sudden flood of information wash over here. She greatly hoped that the young girl was prepared for a late night of spit balling over possible connections. After all, Detective Athos needed this in order to stop a deranged man from killing again.

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona felt her stomach clench at the picture of Holly J. Reynolds. She looked so much like her best friend Dolores. She quickly moved away from that picture and looked at the others. They had nothing in common, not in looks nor jobs. Why were they dead? No DNA, no connections...nothing. it was like trying to solve a puzzle with no pieces. Mona felt frustrated because the longer she looked at them the more she wanted to help them. She took in the faces of the victims and memorized them. She would help Olivia as much as she could no matter how much time it took.

Mona took another sip of her bitter, but warm coffee, and kept reading over the victims. She looked up at Olivia and asked "How far into these women's pasts did you go?"

Mona figured that the killer may be a childhood friend or enemy. It hurt many people to say their once good friend was now killing people, but often it's true. No one expects the person closest to you to be a killer. "Are they married? Do they have boyfriends? Have they been raped or abused?" Mona knew these were hard questions to ask family members of the victims many cops didn't like asking what Mona told them to. But it was important to get all these answers. And the hard questions most often are the most important.

"This question will be the hardest but most crucial to the idea, did any of these women have abortions? Many killers go after people who go against their God's way. and abortions is the #1 sin in almost all religions. Maybe your killer is connecting his victims by crimes he thinks the committed in the past. Such as most serial killers do. "