Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Jul 22, 2008 23:26:10 GMT
Continued from Parking Structure; LAX.
Élodie pulled smoothly into her driveway, humming along to whatever song was on the radio; she seemed to remember it being played in Maine a lot too, so it must be in the charts at the moment and she had heard it enough to know the tune and the odd word here and there, where she didn't know them she slipped into a half-garbled imitation of the sounds, as if learning it phonetically. A contented sigh passed her lips. It was good to be home.
When she got out of the car she went through exactly the same motions as she had in the parking lot, only this time in reverse, and soon enough she was tromping up the steps towards her front door, fumbling for her keys in the purse with a muttered curse or two under her breath, suitcase leaning against her thigh as she rooted around. Eventually she dug them out, deciding that she had entirely too many objects lying in her purse that were not absolutely necessary to her existence and that she would root them out in the morning before she went off on whatever task she set herself for the day. With a satisfying clunk her key slid home and the door slid free of its jamb. Juggling various things in her arms and hands she all but stumbled over the threshold; where was that carefully bred grace and poise she had in front of the camera when she needed it? Elle set her suitcase just inside the door, dumped her purse on the side table and once she had a hand free she fumbled for the light switch on the wall.
For a moment the lights flared tastefully before sputtering out simultaneously in a flash, making the woman in the doorway jump and gasp. If the fuses had tripped she was going to be hugely annoyed, but not as annoyed as she would be if they were blown completely. Then she'd have to hunt out the spares. Stepping out of her high heels, Élodie started moving through the entrance way and into her hall, a blurred reflection of herself shadowing her movements as she padded softly in the direction of her kitchen and the door to the basement that waited in there. A glance to her left told her everything was not exactly how it was supposed to be.
In the middle of one of the glass panels was a large but unmistakeable, smudged handprint. Too big to be Élodie's, and besides she was a perfectionist, that glass wall never had a smudge on it...
Élodie's heart hammered against her breastbone urgently, telling her to get out, right now but all she could do was grip the set of keys she walked in with in a blind, paralysing panic, groping in the shadows for her cell phone with her free hand, rummaging through her jacket pockets. Once she had it though, once she closed her fingers around it she seemed to regain her senses and moved swiftly out the door, not even bothering with her shoes, just stepping out into the night, moving down the stone steps, flipping open her cell and dialling a familiar number without a second thought.
Somewhere in LA, a cell phone was ringing and Élodie just hoped that the owner would, or could answer it.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Jul 23, 2008 1:06:24 GMT
Standing on the stone steps, halfway between her house and her car, Élodie couldn't decide which way she wanted to look, which felt completely ridiculous, but she couldn't help it. If she turned towards her car her back was to her front door and she didn't like that thought much at all, but when she was turned towards her front door she couldn't see her garden and with the plants and shadows, it felt like anyone could be hiding just out of her sight. It made her very uncomfortable and as she waited for the line to be picked up, she jogged down the rest of her steps so that she could stand, barefoot, by her car and see the entrance to her house at the same time. It was the best she could do right now as far as reassurances went.
"Elle? What’s wrong?”
"Chris, thank god." Élodie sighed; her free hand swiped over her face, pinching the bridge of her nose briefly, "I think someone's been inside my house while I've been away. I'm not sure... it feels..." What? It felt what exactly? "It just feels wrong. The fuses are blown I think, I just have a bad feeling." A pause. "You know I wouldn't have called if I didn't... if it wasn't..." Important. Fear and a gnawing kind of panic had apparently rendered her unable to form sentences properly and she glanced up at her home with a thick sense of foreboding running through her veins.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Aug 2, 2008 22:26:29 GMT
A gust of air coming up the drive moved her hair over her shoulders, and Elle shuddered subtly as she heard Chris' familiar voice on the other end of the line talking momentarily to whomever he was with; usually she would feel guilty about interrupting something, whatever plans he had been in the midst of enjoying when she'd called, but a sharp anxious feeling was tingling through her body and she couldn't work up the energy needed to push that away and feel bad about it at all. Swallowing and taking a deep breath so that her voice wouldn't crack, Elle glanced around, nodding. "Okay," she responded, a wry smile lifting the corner of her mouth, "I'm not going anywhere." Hanging up, she kept hold of the phone tightly, like if was a life line, her only connection to the world really, up there on her secluded, private drive. Suddenly that privacy that she had created for herself felt oppressive and stupid, like she had been trying to cut the world out of her little patch of Los Angeles - though there was really nothing very 'little' about her home - and that was just naive of her.
Hairs on the back of her neck and her forearms were standing up and Elle cursed the fact that she had left her car keys inside the house when she had all but bolted out of the shadows in there. Out on the drive, the low solar lamps that lined it every few metres cast a stylish blue glow over the stones, but it wasn't enough; she suddenly wanted flood lights, bright enough to hurt her eyes and to illuminate every nook and cranny on the premises and the fact that she couldn't even get into her car and fire up the headlights was, frankly, a little distressing.
Calm down, she told herself. This was not good for her heart, she thought, it was drumming a tattoo against the inside of her chest, so Elle concentrated very hard on the end of the drive way, waiting for Chris to turn up, breathing in and out slowly, trying to make her heart rate settle.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Post by Chris on Aug 3, 2008 0:16:49 GMT
Continued from: Cole’s Territory; Apartment Complex; Building C; Chris’ Apartment.
Some time passed, understandably, between his setting off and his arrival. The traffic hadn’t been too congested, given the hour and the day itself, but it could have been clearer, and Chris would have preferred to keep up a much faster, steadier pace than the one he did manage to maintain. Stopping at every third or fourth set of lights was enough of a hindrance when he was already worried about someone who had become a good friend of his, and frankly, leapfrogging through the journey like this was becoming frustrating. So when he finally broke from the midst of the Los Angeles heave and bustle, he was grateful to be able to open up, grant the classic car his uncle had given him for no real reason a chance to show him what it was made of.
The Camaro all too eagerly ate up the road laid before it, and before too long, he was pulling in just outside of Elle’s driveway, still on the street, but out of the way where there was no danger of it blocking any kind of desperate need to back away from the house, whether it be on foot or with the woman’s vehicle. Before stepping out, he dropped open the glove compartment to retrieve the handheld flashlight that was always kept in there, and then he was out on the street, swinging the door closed behind him. It was a warm night, but his jacket was in the car all the same, grabbed out of habit, his cell phone and gun at his waist, on opposite sides of his belt, as well as his badge, clipped in plain sight on the front, where any civilian with a decent pair of eyes would see it before overreacting to the silver-finish Beretta settled at his left hip.
“Elle,” he said by way of greeting, making sure not to raise his voice too much in case she hadn’t heard him pull up; he didn’t want to spook her when she was clearly already shaken, and if she screamed, her neighbours might just think the worst. “You okay?” That was his primary concern as he set one hand briefly atop the firearm he was licensed to carry even when not on the clock, his gaze travelling to the dark house before them, studying it from where he stood.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Aug 3, 2008 0:57:09 GMT
Before he had pulled up, Elle had been staring off into the dark shadows of the property, not focussing on any one thing, not really looking for anything either but waiting for something to change, to move, to give her a reason to be so uptight. As she waited, she felt increasingly torn as to whether she was overreacting or not; before the accident, before the surgery, she had would have been bold as brass, walked into that house, changed the fuse and not given it a second thought. Maybe that would have had dire consequences, if there really had been an intruder, and maybe not. This new cautiousness sometimes had the ability to take her by surprise. Either way, by the time the engine came into such a proximity as she could hear the thing rumbling to a stop it was too late, and she was waiting, watching the direction she knew he would be coming from with her arms folded over her chest, her cell phone still gripped in an iron fist.
A weak smile faded in an out of her expression, "I'm fine," she responded honestly, "just a little spooked is all." Elle followed his gaze to the house, he door stood open, the hallway beyond it dark and forbidding. "It might be nothing, I didn't get very far and I saw this handprint, and I never leave handprints on my glass. I mean I have a housekeeper but she's visiting her son in Chicago until next weekend and no one else has a key to this place. I only finished it a month ago, which you know anyway," Elle took a breath. Realising that the anxious energy was coming out as a stream of words tightly knitted together. "It's probably nothing, Chris, really." A pause. "But thanks for coming."
Now, she felt silly, standing there barefoot with her cell phone, tired from the plane journey, in crumpled slacks and an even more crumpled shirt. Total neurotic mess.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Post by Chris on Aug 3, 2008 1:16:46 GMT
Chris’ nod was slow, calculating in its own good-natured way, as he took in all the facts that were offered to him by the owner of the house. His other hand had risen to settle opposite the other now, just forward from his phone, his pose assessing and his expression not giving too much away, but it was clear he was thinking, his mind working on overtime as he went through the motions mentally and figured out where to go from here. “You did the right thing,” he assured her, taking his eyes from the house and looking down the short distance into Elle’s face from where he stood. “If something’s out of place, it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
It was such a ‘cop’ thing to say, he realised afterwards, and he took the slight edge off quickly by giving her a faint smile, before he took in a breath through his mouth and then let it out, digging the small flashlight from his pocket, and unclipping the top of the holster to slide the Beretta from where it sat snugly and securely, holding it down at his side as he activated the little tool, a small but powerful beam of light striking the path ahead of them. “It might be best if you stay out here while I check it out.”
His tone, however, implied that she didn’t have to, especially seeing as how she would be alone while he was investigating the house. Chris didn’t move forward, glancing at her, gun and flashlight in their respective holds, casual for the moment but easily adjusted so he could walk through the residence with both at the ready. All things considered, it probably would be for the best if Elle went inside with him, so long as she stuck behind him at all times.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Aug 3, 2008 1:57:11 GMT
If anything Elle was reassured by the tone at first; Chris was a cop after all, and that sense of an authority figure being on the scene - even if it was an authority figure she had known for over a year now - was reassuring. That way, if there was anything wrong she knew she was in god hands, but if it was honestly nothing then they were just friends and she knew that he wouldn't tease her for it, not since he was well aware of the details of the car accident and the letters leading up to it. Still she returned the light smile that took that edge of but definitely kept the rolls distinct, cop and paranoid damsel in possibly unwarranted distress.
All in all, pros and cons weighed, she was glad she had called him and more so that he had come over.
"I'll come with you," Elle said, and no, it wasn't out of bravery, there was not a chance in hell she was going to stand out in the driveway all alone again, and she even got the whole staying behind him thing, she'd seen movies, she knew how this would go, he had the gun anyway and she gestured to the steps in a slightly sarcastic 'shall we' motion with a faint expression that echoed something of her regular personality, when she wasn't worried that some wanted criminal was lurking in the larder.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Post by Chris on Aug 3, 2008 2:12:29 GMT
Chris had been a cop of some rank or another for so long now that it was sort of engrained into his behaviour. Even before he himself had gone to the academy, he had the memories of his father, Duncan Tyler, and how he had behaved when wearing the uniform that had symbolised protection and security to so many people in New York City. After his father’s death, Chris had been determined to pick up where the older man had, by no choice of his own, left off, and so far, he liked to think he wasn’t doing a terrible job, was actually making a difference, and hopefully a noticeable one, especially when it came to their specific field at the Los Angeles Police Department.
He nodded, showing that he understood Elle’s choice, and with that, giving her a moment to get her breath and brace herself for whatever might be behind the walls looming ahead of them, he started down the path, up the steps, and then crossed the threshold and entered through the front door. The flashlight and gun were lifted now, the former balanced over the latter to cast light ahead of the aim of the weapon and give him a clear line of sight. It was second nature to him now, instinct that he couldn’t shake off, and his breathing was steady and quiet as he started to head at a cautious pace through the house, with the designer and owner not far behind him.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Aug 3, 2008 21:00:15 GMT
Obediently Elle followed in behind Chris, suddenly glad that she had kicked her shoes off all over again because her footfalls were silent, the only thing, she thought, that might give her away was the hammering of her heart. It had started up again now that she was back inside the house, even though she was moving silently and cautiously behind Chris, a trained police sergeant. Until they actually moved form the glass panelled hall into the living room she was surprisingly calm, given her reactions so far to the contrary, the panic was tightly bundled up and tucked away for the time being.
Once they crossed the arch that served as the doorway though, all her composure fled, taking the colour in her skin with it.
Élodie followed the beam of light from the flashlight as it illuminated the space, throwing the little neon squares of paper it shone on into harsh relief. No words came to her, she was suddenly numb with a mix of shock and horror at the post-its; they covered every surface, a neat little row of them across her mantle place, a patch work of more erratically placed ones on the TV screen and even the drapes where they had bee fixed with a stapler. It wasn't the fabric she was worried about though, the fact that her decor had been abused and ruined in some places was severely overshadowed by the sudden surge of panic infused fear breaking from its prison and ceasing her body up in rigor mortis.
Each one of them had 'For Keeps' written in black caps.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Post by Chris on Aug 3, 2008 22:10:23 GMT
For someone wearing what seemed like combat boots, presumably with reinforced toes, scuffed and worn though they obviously were, Chris actually trod very softly, his own footfalls all but inaudible, the sergeant taking special care not to tread on anything that might have been in his way, avoiding edges of furtniture and corners of walls. He had been in enough situations like this, or even more intense, to know what to do and what not to do; what should never be done if you intended to leave with your health, or in the darkest situations, your life. Chris had had enough near-misses in his life to know how to behave when things were at their most uncertain.
Taking in the sight of the little squares of paper, Chris kept his breathing steady, not giving anything away in the slightest, his gun and flashlight held aloft without wavering, the beam of light travelling only where he angled his attention. There was more of the house to investigate after all, and quietly, he said to Élodie behing him, "Stay close behind me, but not too close." He knew she would have acted that way without him having to tell her, but in situations like this, it never hurt to state the obvious, to guide to the point of explaining simple, straightforward things. Chris didn't want Elle to put herself in danger if that was even a remote possibility.
And then he kept moving forward, steps calculated and precise, as if they had all been planned meticulously, his path carrying him and his living shadow further into the house.
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Jan 12, 2009 23:35:11 GMT
All this time spent putting the events of one night behind her seemed so pointless all of a sudden, because despite everything her home had been invaded, her privacy and security had been taken away from her. Those little squares of florescent paper were mocking her, almost winking at her in the swing of Chris’ flashlight beam.
“Oh my god,” Elle gasped tightly, a hand going to her chest. There was no air in the house all of a sudden, she felt like they were walking through a vacuum and all she could see in front of her were those wild, crazy eyes of the drug addict that she had been trapped in that car with, his hand in her hair, the knife. As if the seatbelt was clamped across her chest all over again her breathing became shallow and rapid and all she could think was that he’d been in her house, he’d been in her house, here in this room, he’d been there, in her house.
A trembling hand reached out and grasped Chris’ shoulder, she said his name unsteadily, feeling dizzy.
He’d been in her house.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Post by Chris on Jan 12, 2009 23:51:32 GMT
Already Chris had forgotten about what he had been doing before coming to Élodie’s. He wasn’t even on the clock right now; he should have called someone else at the station, told them about a situation, but instead he had jumped in his car and come to the aid of a friend. Automatic, really. It didn’t matter, really. Even if something did happen, the most it would result in was an inquiry, and given who he was here to help, he was willing to risk that. There wasn’t much Internal Affairs would really be able to dig up on him, if anything.
The blonde woman’s gasp was enough to make him turn to look back over his shoulder, moments before her hand reached out and took hold of it. Stifling a curse before it could even rise, he went against training that had been ground into him countless times and lowered the gun and flashlight long enough to turn to support Élodie, one arm going around her waist to help her keep her balance. “You okay? You look pale.”
Debating it for only a moment, Chris holstered his gun again, opting to keep his flashlight out instead of the firearm, despite the potential threat of someone still being in the house. “Hey, Elle, are you all right?”
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Jan 13, 2009 1:33:32 GMT
That went both ways really, people would probably say that she should have called nine-one-one instead of calling a friend from the force, but she didn’t in that moment care because she wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to be there, she wouldn’t want some stranger to be guiding her through her own home like he was now, if only because no one would make her feel quite as safe as he did. Maybe that was selfish of her, but she was only human after all, and she could feel guilty about it later if necessary.
At his arm going around her waist, keeping her from swaying into the wall, or outright collapsing she swallowed, trying to force her vocal chords into giving her something to work with, trying to make them obey her commands to pass air and form speech; “Can’t breathe,” she wheezed shaking her head. “He’s been in my house, I can’t-- Chris, he’s been here, in my house,” Élodie was finding it hard to see all of a sudden, her breathing was short and shallow and everything was getting blurry, she felt sick and cold and her grip on Chris’ shoulder had turned to cast iron, as if letting go would rob her of more of her precious control.
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Chris
Human
LAPD Sergeant: Narcotics
And I won't let you drown when the water's pulling you in; I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.
Posts: 407
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Post by Chris on Jan 13, 2009 2:16:33 GMT
Maybe she should have called nine-one-one, but there was no guarantee that whoever showed up would check the place thoroughly. Not that Chris thought so little of beat cops nowadays, but he knew some of them had the tendency to gloss, cut corners, or generally half ass. Maybe he was only thinking that way because a friend was involved here. So if that made him protective, those ‘guard dog’ tendencies rising to the surface without being restrained, and I.A. felt that ‘compromised his judgment’, if there was even any kind of inquiry into this, then so be it. He would tell them exactly what had happened here; that a friend had asked for his help, and he had given it to her, the best he was able. There was no fault in that.
There was a chair close to them, one most likely intended more for aesthetic purposes than anything practical, but he still gently guided her towards it, saying as he did so, “Here, easy, sit down.” Even after getting her close to the chair, Chris didn’t let go of her, doing another quick scan of their surroundings, not wanting to be caught unawares if the man responding was still here in the house. “I’m going to call and get a unit in here, okay? Just sit down, take some deep breaths. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, all right?”
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Elle
Human
Architect, Author & Presenter
Suddenly my eyes are open, everything comes into focus.
Posts: 119
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Post by Elle on Jan 13, 2009 3:02:49 GMT
In all honesty the beat cops would probably have taken one look at her and decided she was a bit nuts, with the travel crumpled clothes and the slightly puffy eyes that spoke to not much sleep recently, not to mention the fact that she’d kicked her shoes off and had since been wandering around barefoot, so that was probably yet another good reason for it to be Chris there with all his guard dog tendencies, he knew that she wouldn’t make up or imagine something like this. Not in a million years.
Until she was actually sitting in the chair Élodie was actually unaware that she was even walking, but she sank into the seat gratefully, a hand moving to cover her forehead as she tried to listen to Chris and control her panicked breathing. “Okay,” she gasped almost silently. “Okay.” Sucking in another deep breath helped. Then another. It wasn’t so hard to get those breaths now, and her vision was slowly returning to normal. “I can’t deal with him again,” she shuddered when she was feeling stronger. “It’s too much, I can’t do it.” It was the shock talking, she didn’t know it yet but it was, she didn’t just gave up, it wasn’t her style, she was better than that.
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