Current mood:

accomplished

It Ain’t Her
Sat down at my laptop last night to write a few drabbles. When I was finished with them this story just started to develop. I think with all that's going on of late you all may get a kick out of where this story goes.


It Ain’t Her

Squad room Tuesday morning.

“I’m telling ya, that ain’t Benson, man.” Leaning closer to Munch Fin continues. “I know Olivia, and that ain’t her. Benson’s a player, man, and that chick in there ain’t no player.”

“Come now partner, that sounds suspiciously like conspiracy theory.” A highly amused Munch quipped. “The plot thickens…”

“Laugh it up boney man, but I’m telling you, it ain’t her.”

“Alright, I’ll play along, make me a believer.”

“Well, just look at her man. I mean she’s changed her look some over the years, but this is radical.”

“OK, it does seem she’s made something of a sea-change, but I’ll need a bit more before I start thinking pod person or clone gone wrong.”

“Check this, remember that hot blonde we had in here a couple days ago?”

“I believe someone would need to be blind to not have noticed that lovely specimen. Go on.”

“Well, it just so happens she was wearing the same perfume Cabot wore. She walked past Olivia’s desk and gave her a nice long look. And Benson just sat there like nothing was going on. The real Olivia would be someplace getting it on with that chick and you know it.”

“Perhaps she’s actually making some major changes in her life.”

“Come on, man, don’t even try and tell me you believe that shit.”

“Be that as it may, how do you plan to turn conjecture to conclusion?”

“DNA.” Fin said as he held up a plastic bag with what appeared to be a long reddish colored strand of hair. “I ‘accidentally’ snagged my watch in her hair. As long as it is it wasn’t hard to do. Got that whole follicle thing on this one. I’m gonna run it by Warner and get an ID.”

Wide-eyed and unbelieving Munch can’t help but play devil’s advocate. “And when the results come back as Benson, and she finds out what you did, what do you plan to do then?”

“Man, I am so sure that ain’t her I ain’t gonna worry about that. Dude, that chick ain’t Benson, and if she ain’t Benson that means we gotta find out who she is and where our Olivia is!”

“You make a good point. Let’s get this over to the M.E. and request express service.”

“Look, man, no need to put your name on this. If it goes down wrong I’ll take the heat.”

“I appreciate your concern but we are partners, we share the good and the bad.”

“True dat. Let’s roll. I hope I’m wrong but I just gotta be sure.”

Squad room Wednesday morning.

“Yo, Munch, got some evidence I need to check out.” Holding up an envelope Fin gestures toward the door. “Let’s hit it.”

Pulling into a nearby alleyway Fin puts the car into park and rips open the envelope.

“Well, what’s the verdict?”

“Well, fuck me, man. I was right! Her names Oliska Hargenson…”

…to be continued