9. Chapter 9

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They were not obscene. That was something. Trixie was miserable, and though it broke her heart, though she’d never forget that image, though she’d have nightmares from here to world’s end, Chloe was also bitterly relieved.

To be miserable, you had to be alive.

That was something too.

Alive. Alive. Alive. Chloe repeated that to herself, quietly in the privacy of her mind, until she felt a little more stable. She took a deep breath, Lucifer’s ridiculously expensive cologne comforting in it’s familiarity. She allowed herself one more, and then turned back to the screen. There was work to be done.

Dan put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off without looking at him. She didn’t have time for that pit of worms. Trixie needed her, and by God, Chloe would do everything she could to answer that call.

She focused on the picture. That awful, heart wrenching, oh god oh god oh god, pleasepleaseplease. Chloe paused, and stared ahead unblinking, taking another deep breath. She took everything she was feeling, and more importantly, everything she wasn’t feeling, crushed it, stuffed it into a box at the back of her mind, wrapped the box in chains and gave it a kick for good measure. She focused on the picture.

What could she see? What might be a clue?

“Is anything striking you, Ms Decker?” Agent Johnson prodded calmly. “Anything unusual?”

In another time, she might have hated his apathy. Unusual? As if the whole situation wasn’t completely alien. She didn’t though. Right then she only appreciated his professionalism. She tried not to wonder what that said about her. It was just work, and the attractive female cop couldn’t be less professional than the older male or she’d be stuck bringing them coffee for the next thirty years. The routine of it all was good; it reinforced all of her well-practiced coping methods, letting her keep her mind on the job.

Trixie’s clothes had been changed, that was the obvious bit. Instead of her jeans and the blue top she’d worn to school, she was now in a pink ball gown with wide skirts and a corset top. Had the creep changed her? Or had Trixie been allowed to do that herself. Had he watched? Murder flared in her heart. It was the kind of dress her mother would have picked Chloe thought viciously. It looked like something from Disney, all pink and puffy with chiffon shoulders that were more decorative than practical.

Disney. Her eyes narrowed in thought.

Trixie was also wearing a tiara, her hair styled precisely so the tiny bit of metal fitted into it without visible support.

Chloe was greedy for the details even as they disgusted her right down to her core. No matter how her mind skittered over the topic, Chloe couldn’t deny to herself that this might very well be the last time she saw Trixie alive. She absorbed the picture, memorising the details of her daughter’s face from the wide bright eyes right down to the smallest freckle on her nose, and the bruises on her arms.

“The dress,” she said, her voice as cold as the artic, “the tiara, the hair, it all looks exactly like the princess from Sleeping Beauty. That has to be deliberate.”

Was it the official version? That stuff wasn’t cheap. It had to be an easy sixty, seventy dollars before tax if it wasn’t some cheap knock-off. She wondered why Trixie had had to change clothes, and then steered her mind away from the answers she thought of.

Trixie had fought back. Those bruises on the arms were defensive ones, with offensive ones scattered on top. That was another something. Oh her brave little girl. It wasn’t fair. How could a world allow this? Why hadn’t lightning rained down from the sky the moment Trixie was harmed? Why hadn’t the earth opened? How could the world carry on like nothing had happened? Where was the justice? The Devil take The Collector’s soul, Chloe thought, fear and hatred roiling within her at the sight of her daughter’s suffering.

Lucifer shifted awkwardly beside her, and Chloe tightened her grip on his hand. If he was having an unfortunate case of emotions, he was just going to have to deal with them like the rest of humanity. He wasn’t going to escape their foibles by drowning himself in sex and sin, and she wouldn’t permit him to avoid her either.

“Alright,” Johnson said calmly, “Anything else?”

Chloe searched desperately, wondering what on earth they expected her to see that they couldn’t.

Trixie was handcuffed to the wall. A wall that looked like it was corrugated iron – the pattern was unmistakable. It was a dark narrow room by the looks it, though the picture only caught a fraction of the room. Trixie was standing in some sort of spotlight, so that she alone was displayed for the picture.

“Is that a shipping container?” Dan echoed her thoughts.

“Possibly,” Johnson allowed quietly. “Is there anything about the picture that you think might help us, Mr Espinoza? Ms Decker? Anything at all?”

Chloe’s gaze was fixed on the sight of handcuffs on her daughter’s wrists. They were bright silver. A wretched colour, silver. Trixie’d been cuffed with hands in front rather than behind which would be more comfortable but was probably meant for a more appealing picture to the perverts of the world or something equally horrid that Chloe’s healthy mind couldn’t wrap itself about. The cuffs were tight, Chloe guessed, as Trixie’s wrists were red, raw, and probably bleeding but Chloe couldn’t tell from the angle.

“Her hands,” Chloe said softly, pride and helplessness rising within her as she saw what her beautiful brilliant daughter was doing. “Her fingers – that’s deliberate.”

There, on her lap, Trixie was holding her fingers out, one on her left hand, folded over a three on her right.

“Thirteen,” Lucifer spoke for the first time, his voice utterly flat. It was so unusual for him that Chloe had to stare. Oh yes, she thought uneasily shifting in her chair; Lucifer was having a fit of the emotions.

She wondered if she was the only one who could see the spark of red in his eyes. Red-eye was a common photographic effect… reflected light. Except red-eye was from a reflection, and Lucifer’s eyes were burning from within. Not that that was possible…She wondered what it meant. She wondered if she cared.

Chloe didn’t let go of his hand and swiftly added a few red-eye related thoughts to the box in her mind.

“Are you sure it’s deliberate?” Agent Johnson said after a long moment of silence. He was looking at her, Chloe knew, but she was certain that all of his attention was on Lucifer. Lucifer’s rage often seemed to have that effect on a room.

“Yes.”

“Alright. We’ll keep you informed. It might be best if you went home to rest, Ms Decker. I’ll call if we have any news, and you have my number if you think of anything more. There’s nothing else for you to do today.”

“Yes,” Chloe said numbly. “I’ll call.”

“And here’s a card for you, Mr. Morningstar,” Agent Johnson added casually. “If you happen to think of anything relevant.”

Lucifer took the card with his spare hand. He looked at it and silently tucked it into his pocket without a single comment, not even a smirk or an innuendo about phone sex.

Definitely a fit of the emotions, Chloe thought, guiding Lucifer out of the room as Johnson turned to Dan. Chloe just caught the first question before the door closed behind them.

“Have you heard from your partner recently at all?”

***#

Lucifer drove them back to Lux.

Chloe leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and watched him from the corner of her eye as he drove with his usual disregard for law and order. She didn’t know quite what she’d expected from him, but this wasn’t it.

Lucifer wasn’t gripping the steering wheels, knuckles white with rage, he wasn’t hissing and fuming and cursing up a storm, turning the air blue with his vocabulary choices. Not like she would have been - if she didn’t feel so useless. Lucifer just drove, seeming completely calm. He wasn’t even speeding.

If she didn’t know better, she’d have assumed he didn’t care.

When they pulled up, he tossed the keys to his valet and stepped around the car to open her door for her and he even extended a hand as if she needed assistance. Chloe’s eyebrows climbed to the sky, but she took the hand.

A display of manners deserved positive reinforcement, no matter how old-world, but he didn’t seem to notice her exasperation. He appeared to be lost in thought as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and escorted her upstairs, and Chloe certainly felt as if she was being escorted. She half wondered where her ball gown was, the way he was acting. He actually opened and held all the doors for her, and kept holding them open when the act made her jerk to a halt and stare until she passed through it. He didn’t notice her amazement either.

Even Connor did a double take as Lucifer ‘escorted’ her to a seat on the sofa where he finally released her arm, and set about fixing her a drink. The poor hacker looked terrible, and Chloe felt guilty that he was working to exhaustion for her, yet grateful for it too. It soothed her soul to know what the official investigation was keeping from her, if she didn’t have Connor she wouldn’t have had a clue about how realistic Trixie’s chances were.

She almost did a spit-take when she sipped her brightly coloured cocktail and realised that it wasn’t alcoholic. Lucifer had listened to her and remembered her preference for not drinking at a time like this. Instead of blatantly flouting her rules, he had been considerate.

It was lucky she was already sitting down.

Lucifer for once didn’t sit thigh to thigh with her and try throwing his arm around her shoulders. He stood at the enormous window, looking out over the city, afternoon light bright and incongruous, as quiet as a mouse. He’d foregone his usual drink too and just stood, watching the clouds drift by with a thousand-yard stare.

“Report.” It was spoken quietly, but there was no mistaking the steel fist beneath the velvet gauntlet.

“An investigation on the police car has been uploaded to the official servers,” Connor reported obediently, rising to address Lucifer though her erstwhile partner kept his back to the poor man. “No forensic traces were found.” Chloe closed her eyes slowly fighting the rising tide of despair with a weakening will.Lucifer had promised. Alive, not unharmed, but alive. It was enough. Surely it had to be enough.

“The car had been cleaned.” Connor spoke faster and faster the longer Lucifer remained silent until his words spewed forth like a river, syllables running over each other in a barely coherent torrent. “There was a side note too, they said that few would know how to completely hide the evidence like that, you know? They think it was a professional job, or someone in law enforcement or forensic science. Normally they’d find something, even if it was perfectly normal cast off from everyone else whose used the car, but they didn’t this time, that’s why it’s suspicious, since there’s just nothing when a legitimate car would have something even if its not relevant. But that’s not it! There was stuff about the mileage! Police have to check a car in and out and they record the miles. I mean, it’s not unusual to forget, but I did find something new! There’s like twenty miles unaccounted for. That was good right?”

“I see.”

Feeling rather detached, Chloe watched with mild interest as Connor flinched, those two words a death sentence or worse apparently.

Twenty unreported miles. It wasn’t much, her brain knew, but despite the odds still rattling around mockingly in her brain, Chloe allowed herself to latch onto the lead with reigns of hope.

“Connor,” she said rising and padding over to the computers.

“Yes, Ma’am?” he eyed her dubiously.

“Can you bring me up a map?” she spared him a small smile, honestly, she might be a cop, but she wasn’t going to bite. “How far is it exactly from where they found the car to Trixie’s school?”

Settling back into his den, Connor brought up a map and worked it out for her.

“Three point six miles exactly,” he reported with a quick look at Lucifer as if to say; see that? I answered it right! Like a dog wanting a treat for performing a trick. Chloe stuffed the thought down harshly. That was mean, Connor was helping her, and it was perfectly understandable that he was anxious around Lucifer considering the strings he’d pulled to get him out of whatever pit he’d been hidden in.

“Three point six,” Chloe mused, “Perhaps there and back it might be as much as seven point two, leaving twelve point eight miles to search for a corrugated iron container and the number thirteen.”

“It’s probably wider than that, ma’am,” Connor said easily, comfortable now that they were firmly in his area of expertise. “You can take the first three point six off easily, as he has to get to the school, but you can’t predict the route he took. He might have parked up and used public transportation ten miles away, hid the girl, and then driven the car another ten miles back to its spot. He might have hidden her four miles away and drove about more to pick up his groceries, or drove to somewhere where he had space and time to deep clean the car.”

It was not much, Chloe knew, but it was all she had.

“Lucifer, can you,” she began, turning, when a sharp clap broke the silence. Lucifer -clapping twice up high and off to the side, as if he were Roman, imperiously summoning his slaves.

“What-,” she broke off again when she realised that Lilith was in the room.

How could she have missed her? Chloe thought, deeply unsettled. The apartment had been empty, she was sure of it. Unless the woman had been hiding in Lucifer’s bedroom-

Pain from her jaw told Chloe if she ground her teeth any more, she’d be eating mashed dinners for the rest of her life.

The other woman had found the time to change apparently, Chloe noted with irritation, suddenly all too aware all over again that she’d slept in these clothes and her hair hadn’t seen a hairbrush in far too long. Lilith had moved from the red dress to a more subtle leather ensemble. Charming.

“My lord?” Lilith purred, posing against the wall.

Lucifer didn’t even glance towards her; Chloe felt a thrill of victory as Lilith glared at her for his silence. Not that she was competing, but really, the other woman needed to learn some self-control. She gave her a tight smile in return, just to be friendly.

Perhaps Lucifer’s secret past hid some sort of title? He was British and it would certainly explain why he had a bodyguard with Mazikeen’s skills, his habitual arrogance and why he got the formal address from his ‘people.’ She could just imagine him as a child, ordering servants, seducing maids, and charming the cook into handing him cookies before dinner.

“Amenadiel?” Lucifer voice broke through her wondering mind. She blamed stress. Lucifer would have made an adorable child, true, but she had to keep her mind on the task before her.

Lilith’s sultry smile froze and she straightened so that she was facing Lucifer head on when he turned to give her a sliver of his attention. “We cannot find him,” she admitted bluntly, chin rising. “He shields himself still.”

Lucifer gave her a stony look, and the frozen smile slid off her face in a most satisfactory manner.

Lilith swallowed and Chloe felt her sense of satiation drain away. It was difficult to feel anything good when the other woman had dread in her eyes. Not that she had anything to be victorious about anyway, she reminded herself firmly.

Lilith took a step closer to Lucifer and then sank to one knee, fist over her heart and head bowed.

“We haven’t had enough time, but if I have failed you, my Lord. I-,”

“When you have failed me, Lilith,” Lucifer interrupted smoothly, “You will know it.”

That had definitely been a threat. Chloe shuddered, the ice in Lucifer’s tone unmistakable no matter how nonchalant he was about it. Witnessing it didn’t make the idea of her Lucifer being anything but the affable, over-sexed, puppy easier to swallow. He was Lucifer not… this. It made her feel ill at ease, but she knew which one would get her daughter back.

“As you say, my Lord,” Lilith replied faintly.

Lucifer eyed her for a long moment. Lilith remained on her knees.

“Besides,” he continued in a warmer tone, “If you’re going to beg before me on your knees –“

“Ahem,” Chloe coughed as loudly as she could, giving Lucifer a pointed look. He gave her a wide-eyed innocent look in return and she coughed again to cover her laugh. That was her Lucifer all over.

“Bring up pictures of corrugated iron and shipping containers,” Lucifer ordered. “Lilith, you and yours are to search the area outlined on that map for anything that looks like that.”

Lilith took one glance at the information, nodded once to Lucifer, and strode to the balcony with determined energy.

“Take the elevator,” Lucifer called to her, and she turned, bemusement clear on her face- until she looked at Chloe.

Scowling at her, Lilith went to the elevator and was gone. Chloe wanted to go with her on the search, unlikely as it might be, but the look in the other woman’s eyes warned her away. Honestly, she wasn’t even sleeping with Lucifer, why did she get the jealous looks all the time?

Lucifer walked back to the window, and Chloe decided now was the time.

“Talk to me about your brother,” Chloe said, when it became clear that no one else was going to break the silence. “Why do you think he’s involved? Was,” she paused, “Was Trixie targeted because of you? Because of your,” she paused again, struggling to speak aloud her darkest thoughts, “Family business.”

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