52.

*The man closed his eyes and Casey imagined him counting. He opened his eyes again.

"Three days."

"Friday night?"

He leaned closer and Casey tried not to back away from his smell. "You don't never know what day it is on the streets."

Casey finally took a step back and the man did the same. "If you knew he was dead, why didn't anyone tell the police?"

"Don't want no trouble."

"Do you think maybe he had something someone wanted? Money? Booze?"

The man shook his head. "If you score, you don't come back here until it's gone."

"Where do you eat?"

"At the shelter."

"Did Rudy go there?"

"Most days."

"Did he have a fight with someone? Was someone harassing him?"

The man took another step back. "Don't know nothing."

Casey leaned closer. "Who are you afraid of?" she asked quietly.

The man looked around them quickly, then shook his head. "Don't know nothing."

He turned to go and Casey let him. Whatever he did know, he wasn't telling. She looked down the street, finding Leslie. She was still talking to her guy and Casey took the opportunity to watch her unobserved. Tall, she was dressed similarly in jeans and lightweight boots, her dark hair windblown and unruly. Casey nodded. She fit in. The first couple of days, she'd worn pressed slacks and fancy loafers. But now, she'd taken her cue from her and Tori, dressing for the streets, not the office. As she stared, Leslie turned, catching her. Their eyes met for a quick moment, then Leslie jotted down something on her notepad before heading her way.

Casey waited, finally raising her eyebrows when Leslie got closer.

"Bobby."

Casey smiled. "Mine said Rudy."

53.

*Leslie shrugged. "Okay, so Rudy Bobby it is." She glanced at her notes. "He'd been around here the better part of a year. No fights with anyone, no enemies. Kept to himself. He's been dead a couple of days."

"Yeah, about what I got." Casey looked around the street, seeing several people watching them. "So, what does your gut tell you?"

"That he knows who did it and he's scared to tell."

Casey stared at her, again meeting her eyes head on. "Funny, that's what my gut says too."

"Another homeless man? Someone they see every day?"

"Most likely." She took a deep breath. "But we'll never get them to talk. They don't trust cops. If the killer was some stranger off the street, they'd come forward. They would have reported the murder. But not this. Not when it's one of their own."

"They'll just move on?"

"Yeah. Those who know what happened, they'll find another place to sleep. They don't want any trouble." Casey headed back down the alley. "Let's go to the shelter.

Maybe someone there will talk to us. If there was some kind of turf war going on, they'd know about it."

But even there, they seemed nervous, unwilling to talk. Casey finally lost her temper after the fourth person told them he didn't know anything.

"Look, cut the crap, okay," she told him. "I'm in no goddamn mood for games. We know he came here to eat, so you know who the hell we're talking about."

But the man still shook his head. "No. There are so many. I don't know him." He glanced around him quickly. "Come back tomorrow. You ask for Maria."

He hurried away from them and Casey shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"Whatever happened to the good old days where a cop could ask a simple question, get a simple answer, and arrest the bad guy?"

Leslie smiled. "TV."

Casey tilted her head, watching Leslie as her fingers threaded through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "It's nearly ten thirty. Ready to call it a night?"

Leslie followed her outside, pausing on the street. "Should we follow up with Spencer or Mac?"

"No. They won't work this until tomorrow. Besides, if they find something, they'll call," Casey said as they made their way back to her truck.

The drive back to the squad room was done in silence. Casey glanced a few times at Leslie, who simply stared out the window, a thoughtful expression on her face. Casey 54*started to ask several times what she was thinking about, but she managed to curb her curiosity for once. She pulled up beside Leslie's car and cut the engine. They sat still for a moment, then Leslie turned in her seat, facing her.

"About earlier," she said. "I enjoyed our talk." She looked up, meeting Casey's eyes.

"Thank you for telling me about yourself. I hope I didn't pry too much."

Casey shook her head. "No. No, it's okay."

"Good. Because I really want us to be friends. My other partners, they were always men, always older. We never really had a relationship other than work."

Casey shifted in her seat too, turning toward Leslie, whose face was hidden by the shadows. "It's funny. I've always gotten along with my partners, considered them friends, but if I think about it, we were just friends on the surface really. There's not a single one of them I'd ever have told my life story to. I knew them and their families, but I guess they never really knew me."

Leslie surprised her by leaning closer and pulling her near for a quick hug. "Thanks for trusting me."

Casey nodded mutely, staring as Leslie opened the door and got out.

"See you tomorrow, O'Connor."

Casey flashed a quick smile, waiting until Leslie had her car started before pulling away. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving into traffic without thinking, her mind still focused on the quick hug. And the unique smell of Leslie's perfume.

Leslie hit the expressway and eased into traffic, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Why did you have to hug her? Jesus!

Why indeed?

"I like her."

Yes, Casey was that type of person. Who wouldn't like her? But a hug? You don't just hug. People don't just hug anymore.

She wondered what Casey thought of her. First, she pried into her personal life, practically dragging out her painful memories. Then she has to go and hug her.

I like to touch, she reminded herself. A curse, but yes, she'd always been that way.

When she felt comfortable with someone, when she felt affection, she touched them when she talked. And for some reason, when she was near Casey, she simply felt drawn to her.

55.

*"There's nothing wrong with that."

Chapter Fourteen.

Leslie turned, her gaze lingering as Casey bounded into the squad room, her energy level a bit elevated it seemed. She stopped beside Leslie's desk, her eyes twinkling.

"For the beautiful lady, a mocha with extra whipped cream." She winked as she pulled a coffee cup from her bag. "I flirted with the coffee girl, got it for free," she teased.

"Aren't you sweet? Having to flirt with cute teenagers for my whipped cream. Must have been painful," Leslie said with a laugh.

Tori snorted and rolled her eyes.

"She's a freshman in college, thank you very much." She turned, "And for the old sourpuss, cappuccino," she said, handing Tori her cup.

"Thanks, cradle robber."

"Ah, you're just jealous, old lady," Casey shot back. She turned to John. "And for my favorite straight boy," she said, handing him his coffee. She made an exaggerated show of trying to hide it as she slid a pastry across his desk.

"Sweet."

"Oh, no. No, no, no, O'Connor. No fair. You can't bring a pastry for one and not for all. You know the rules," Tori said, glaring first at Casey, then at Sikes as he bit down into the fresh pastry with a groan. "How the hell did Sikes rank a pastry?"

"He's my boy."

"Boy toy, maybe," Tori muttered, causing Casey to laugh.

"Here you go, sweet pea. I got one for everybody, I'm just messing with you." She tossed one to Tori, then placed another in front of Leslie. "I love doing that to her. She gets so riled up."

"Shut up, O'Connor."

"Damn, you're cranky this morning, Hunter. Didn't get any last night or what?"

Leslie nearly spit her coffee out at the glare Tori shot across the desk, which only caused more laughter from Casey and John. Her smile vanished as Tori turned her scowl in her direction.

"Oh, Hunter, don't try to scare the new kid." Casey squeezed her shoulder, then leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for Tori to hear. "She's all bark, no bite."

Leslie laughed again as Casey blew an exaggerated kiss to Tori.

56.

*"What the hell's wrong with you this morning, O'Connor? You get laid finally?"

"I wish." She moved to her own desk. "No. It's just a beautiful day and I'm happy.

Besides, I've had three cups of coffee and I'm just a little wired."

"Just a little," Leslie agreed, then turned as Lieutenant Malone walked behind her.

"Tucker? Got a minute?"

Leslie nodded. "Of course." She stood, wondering what was up. She glanced at Casey who simply shrugged.

"Come on in. Sit," Malone said, closing the door behind her.

She waited as he sat down behind his desk, her hands clutched together nervously as she tried to think if she'd done something wrong. She took a deep breath. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, no. No, no, nothing like that." He smiled and leaned on his desk, his hands folded together on top of a file. "But it's your second week. I just wanted to check on things, see how it's going."

She frowned. "Going?"