The car ride was uncomfortably silent until Elliot finally cleared his throat. “Look… I didn’t mean to imply that you would let your personal life interfere with how you handled this case…“

“Just forget it, El.” She sighed as she reached into her jacket pocket for her cell phone.

“C’mon, Liv.” He offered her his best placating tone. “I just don’t get why you’re so ready to pass on this woman as a viable suspect.”

“I’m not!” She protested. “For two days this case has been nothing but a big question mark and now that we have our first lead, at least into some part of Samantha Wainscott’s history, I’m not about to ignore it. I just think there are aspects of the murder that don’t add up to our perp being her lover, that’s all.” When he didn’t look convinced she rolled her eyes. “Ok, then how about this? How many times have you had a feeling in your gut that no one else bought into, but I was right there backing you up?”

That did the trick. Elliot flushed dark red and his eyes seemed to glue themselves to the road in front of him. “Point taken.”

“Good.” She nodded. Flipping open her cell phone she hit speed dial #3. It was picked up on the second ring.

“Cabot.”

“Hey it’s me.”

“Hey you.”

Olivia felt herself shiver at the familiarity in Alex’s voice and forced herself to sit up straighter, sliding into her cop persona. “I wanted to be the one to tell you…”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone followed by a deep sigh. “The I.D. came back.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Alex.”

She heard the ADA swallow quickly. “Has Samuel been notified?”

“We’re on our way there now.” She felt an overwhelming urge to hold Alex, and was suddenly very grateful she wasn’t in the same room with her. Uncomfortable, she changed the subject. “We got some interesting information this morning. Seems Sam changed her will last week. Left everything to a woman named Serra Tate. Munch and Fin are checking out her background now. I’ll call you with an update when we get back to the station.”

“Okay….” She could hear the dozens of questions the ADA wanted to ask and smiled when she held them in check. “Thanks for calling me yourself. Oh and Liv, don’t forget I need you in court at two this afternoon for your testimony on Neal.”

Olivia nodded silently for a moment, trying to undo the damage the words ‘I need you’ had done to her sense of decorum. She knew she was taking them out of context, but they had an incredible impact on her nonetheless.

“Liv?”

The detective started, realizing Alex was waiting for a verbal response. “Sure thing counselor; you can count on me.”

There was a pause and then Alex responded softly. “I have never doubted that…detective.” The click echoed softly as the blonde hung up.

Olivia sat for a few moments, still holding the phone against her ear as she tried to get her heart rate to slow.

She had gotten used to the effect the ADA’s anger had on her; the way catching her ire would make her feel like her blood was singing in her veins. Truth be told, she had even prolonged a few of their fights intentionally, just to feel that passion directed at her for a few moments longer.

But that was nothing compared to the effect of those six softly spoken words. The warmth they generated began in her chest and spread out to all points in her body.

Swallowing, Olivia snapped her cell phone closed and slid it into her pocket.

“Everything ok?”

She glanced over to find Elliot looking at her curiously. “Yeah. We just need to speed this up. I need to be in court at 2pm for Neal.”

“Right.” He nodded absently, knowing there was more going on but also knowing better than to pry at the moment. “Well, we’re here.”

Olivia looked out the window as they pulled up to a tall wrought iron fence half covered in ivy. An ornately decorated brick pedestal stood to the left side of the drive and Elliot thumbed the button embedded in it. They had only been waiting for a couple of seconds when a smooth disembodied voice greeted them from the speaker directly above the call button.

“May I help you?”

“Detective’s Benson and Stabler to see Samuel Wainscott.”

There was a pause then, “Of course, Detectives. Judge Wainscott has been expecting you. Please drive up.”

Elliot couldn’t contain a whistle and Olivia’s eyebrows rose as they followed the gently curving driveway up to a mansion. There was just no other word for it. The place was huge. The front was done in traditional plantation style, with multiple balconies and tall solid looking columns. It spanned what would have been 3 housing lots in the ‘burbs and the entire structure was painted a bright white with red doors and shutters.

“Damn.” Elliot muttered as they exited the car and headed for the front door. “Guess his wife forgave him a little bit huh?”

Olivia didn’t answer. She was already squaring her shoulders and schooling her mindset and facial expression for the notification. She hated these things, but at least this time they weren’t coming into the situation cold. It didn’t make it any better, but it made it a little easier.

Elliot rang the buzzer and Olivia was slightly startled when Samuel Wainscott opened the door himself only a few moments later. Even more surprising was the look of hope on his face.

After he had studied them for a few moments, however, the look faded and his shoulders slumped as he waved them inside. They followed him through a long hallway and into a richly appointed study. Sitting down heavily on a small settee, he motioned for them to do the same. “It was her.”

Olivia nodded slowly. “We’re very sorry.”

Wainscott stared at them blankly for a few moments then he dropped his head into his hands and cried.

Olivia’s eyebrows rose curiously. She glanced at Elliot, but he was pretending to be engrossed in an oil painting that was hanging over the fireplace to their left. It was that thing that guys do to give each other room when there’s too much touchy feely stuff coming from one of them. Rolling her eyes slightly she turned her attention back to the judge, watching as he exhibited as much emotion as a parent who had just had the whole situation sprung on them at three o’clock in the morning.

“I know it’s hard, Judge Wainscott.” She began. “But there are some questions we need to ask that could help us figure out who did this to your daughter.” Elliot threw her a sharp look but she ignored it. “Are you up to answering our questions?”

Wainscott took a deep shuddering breath as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it over his face. “What do you want to know?”

Olivia moved to the edge of her chair, staring directly into his eyes. “Were you aware that your daughter changed her will a little over a week ago?”

His eyes widened. “What? Who told you that?”

“Your daughter’s probate attorney.” Elliot offered softly. “So you were unaware of this change?”

Wainscott’s face grew dark. “Of course I wasn’t aware!” He thundered, jumping to his feet. “I’m not some rube, detective! If I had thought for a moment that the family money was a motive, I would have said so.”

“But it wasn’t family money, was it?” Olivia asked, earning a glare from the irate judge. “It was Samantha’s money.”

“I assure you, detective Samantha was a very important part of this family and she knew her place within it. She would never have signed her legacy away if she wasn’t under some form of duress.” He took a deep breath and sat down slowly. “Who was named as heir in the new will?”

“One person… a woman by the name of Serra Tate.”

The two detectives watched as Wainscott’s face turned bright red and his eyes narrowed with anger. He shot out of his seat yet again, his hands clenching furiously for a few moments and Olivia unconsciously slid further back in her chair. “THAT BITCH! SHE FINALLY DID IT!! SHE KILLED MY LITTLE GIRL!!”

“Sir, please calm down.” Elliot stood and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently forcing him back. When they were all seated again, he pulled out his notebook and pen. “Can you tell us who this woman is?”

The judge swallowed as a look of disgust covered his features. “My Sammy was a good girl. She graduated top of her class at NYU. She took over all of her mother’s charity work when she died and she was even engaged to a junior partner at Taft, Lawry and McMann.” He ran his hands over his face. “It was the book. That damn book!”

Olivia blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Sammy was my girl, detective. Even when her mother and I had our… problems, she was still mine.” Wainscott sighed. “She wanted to surprise me with a Joe Lansdale first edition of The Nightrunners, but they’re hard to come by. Lansdale is an… acquired taste, and his books were never published on the same scale as King or Koontz. She tracked one down at some little book store on the west side. That’s where she met her.”

“Serra Tate?”

“Yes!” The disdain dripped from his voice. “She was nothing; just some little junior college drop out working three days a week at a two bit used book store. Until she saw my Sammy… until she met her meal ticket.” He swallowed thickly. “Sammy was never… She would have never… It’s an abomination! She took her to those…bars. Convinced her she was a degenerate just like she was; got her to turn her back on me and her family obligations.” Wainscott started to shake. “And she got her involved with all that… that other...” He put his hand over his mouth and looked as though he was going to vomit.

Elliot cleared his throat. “So you were aware of your daughter’s… activities?”

Wainscott turned on the detective. “She was my daughter! Do you really think I wouldn’t have a key to her apartment?” He grabbed a decanter from the table and poured several fingers of scotch into a tumbler, downing it in one long drink. “I saw that… table, the cabinet and that… other thing... I saw enough!” he stood quickly, his arm pulling back to throw the glass violently against the wall. “That bitch made my daughter a pervert… and now she’s killed her.”

“I understand that you’re upset,” Olivia’s jaw tightened as she considered the judge’s behavior. “But we don’t know that yet. However, we do need to speak with Ms. Tate. Do you remember the name of the bookstore?”

“No. Trust me it isn’t a place I ever intended to visit again.”

Twenty minutes later Elliot slid back behind the wheel of the car, watching Olivia closely as she buckled her seat belt and stared pensively down at the floorboard. “What’s on your mind?”

“He’s a bigot.”

“Maybe, but he’s also hurting and angry. A lot of what he said could have stemmed from that.”

“I don’t think so. There’s something not…not quite right about everything that just happened.” She shook her head. “Did you see how he reacted when we first arrived?”

“Liv, he just got confirmation that his daughter was dead!”

“He acted like it was a shock.”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “It IS a shock. Every time we do a notification we never know before hand how the person is going to react. We’ve seen blood relatives who didn’t bat an eyelash and family friends that have gone into hysterics. Wainscott obviously bought into that one percent chance that the DB was someone else. Hope can make a fool out of anyone.”

Olivia frowned, unable to put her finger on what exactly was bothering her. “Maybe.” She glanced at her watch. “Shit, it’s after one. I’ve got just enough time to change and make it to court. Floor it.”