No Good Deed...


elisabeth_icon.gif kayla_icon.gif

Scene Title No Good Deed…
Synopsis …goes unpunished. Seriously.
Date February 4, 2009

Some Police Station

'Busy' is an abysmal description of NYPD's officers on this day. The Jefferson riot wasn't the first; wasn't the last. Between those troubles, such roles as enforcing curfew, and now the mixed reception of the tests… whether it takes the form of 'about damn time' or 'how dare you', it seems like everyone has an opinion and they all have to tell the authorities. And then there's still regular business to be conducted — criminals to book and leads to follow.

The woman who walks in the front doors is, given that people of all sorts are in here today, not instantly out of place, though her mismatched collection of less-than-quality clothes marks her as most likely either vagrant or refugee. Not that the two are in any way mutually exclusive. Her right arm is bound in an ad hoc but not crude sling, both hands gloved, the yellow-purple discoloration of bruises peeking out from beneath brown hair at one side of Kayla's face suggesting ungentle contact with something not too long ago.

Once she's in the doors, Kayla looks slightly lost — where 'lost' is expressed in defensive frustration. The dog at her side, prick-eared German Shepherd who is just beginning to age and wears a tagged collar, is far more at ease (not to mention uninjured), and glances around as though seeking a particular person amidst the semi-organized chaos.

Some days it sucks to be a cop. Elisabeth Harrison has taken to wearing her black uniform about half the time, if only because it fits the kevlar real well - and the kevlar's a damn necessity this week. One she hates, but still. Today, though, they blacks are all dirty so she comes into the precinct wearing a pair of khaki pants topped with a dark brown blouse. She's carrying the black NYPD winter coat that will go over top of her kevlar when she goes back out, but for now she's looks more like a detective than a beat cop. She follows two uniforms with a cuffed, swearing skell between them.

"Don'tchoo got better shit to do than hassle me? Fuck, man, alls I was doin' was handin' out a little joy on the streets!"

Elisabeth smirks faintly at that, glancing around the crazy lobby, and stops short at the sight of a woman with a dog. She looks lost, and she looks like no one's helping her. With a frown, she heads toward Kayla and asks, "Hey…. Can I help you with something?" she asks. Yeah… it's not her job. But what the hell?

When the dog nuzzles her hand, Elisabeth raises her eyebrows and takes a closer look. A further frown, and then she squats to peek at the tags. When she stands up, she asks quietly but firmly, "How'd you get Nina Lou?" Cuz yeah… when a dog knows you, it gets easier to identify it.

That's one thing Kayla didn't bring - Nina's kevlar jacket. But there were limits to the level of curiosity she was willing to risk from other pedestrians during the trip over here. Although there are perhaps no limits on the number of times she can glower at said annoying people. Speaking of annoying people.

The question is perhaps taken more confrontationally than Elisabeth intended; normally, Kayla would cross her arms and glare at the older woman, but for obvious reasons she just settles on the glare. Are you trying to accuse me of something? "Found her in the park," Kayla replies curtly. "Just get her back where she belongs." The healer is well past second, third, or even tenth thoughts by now, which is part of the reason she makes an abrupt face with the intent to head out. Dog is delivered. She's done here.

Elisabeth raises both her eyebrows and puts out a hand to take Nina Lou's leash. "That's bull." She knows better. "There is *no* freakin' way this dog was on the loose anywhere. Given the shape you're in and considering the last place I know for sure Officer Rodriguez-Smith had her, I'd say you meant 'trailer park.'" See? She reads those after-action reports, learning that Bolivar and others were on the far side of the park when the helicopter hit the ground. "So… why don't you come on back and talk to me a minute. I'd be interested in hearing what you can tell me about the riot that night." It's not exactly a request, since with this many cops Liz can stop Kayla from leaving with a single glance at any uniform in the place. "We can use all the witness statements we can get."

Kayla turns her head to hit Elisabeth with a level look. "Isn't that what I just said?" She's lived there too long. What other park should she mean? The young woman stands still, frozen in a way that Elisabeth can easily translate as 'mental cursing and dragging heels', given her experience. Because her back is to the officer, Liz is spared the sullen expression. Not so the sullen consent. "Fine. Next time I'll just leave the damn dog where I find it."

Liz tilts her head and pets Nina Lou. "The dog's a pretty good judge of character, so the fact that she allowed you to bring her this far speaks pretty well of you. C'mon… I'll get you a cup of coffee. I just need a witness statement," she coaxes gently. "It's not like you're in trouble or something. We're just trying to piece together what happened — why people like you got hurt and a bunch of people lost everything they own to the fires. You want to let whoever was shooting into the crowd get away with it?"

Turning to face Liz, Kayla shrugs her good shoulder. "Didn't even know there was someone shooting," she replies. Having been on the far side from Bolivar, between the trailers… she didn't see what set the riot off, only that there was violent chaos. "I'm not going to be able to help you." It's a statement of fact, not so much regret. So let me go already.

Studying the woman, Elisabeth sighs quietly. "Fine. Thank you for bringing Nina Lou in," she tells Kayla. And then it occurs to her, "I'm going to need to know where I can find you again so we can retrieve her armor." It's not cheap stuff.

At that, Kayla chuckles softly. If there's any humor in the sound, it's rather grim. "What, can't connect the dots?" Dog, injuries, riot, general appearance… where else would she be found? The younger woman's lips press into a line, and then she shrugs. "109. Kayla Reid. You can find me by either, for what that's worth." She doesn't seem to think it's worth much.

Liz merely nods. "109. I'll let the officer that belongs to Nina Lou know." Because he'll need to get the gear. "If you think of anything, or you hear anything, Ms. Reid…. I'd be grateful for any help you can offer."

Thin lips and a hooded gaze are clear signs of Kayla's opinion on that front. The prickly scorn that is her defense doesn't entirely mask dismay. She turns away; not quickly enough. Bolivar, coming out to her. Nina's tags have Bolivar's address; it's not like Kayla couldn't have taken the dog to him directly. "Whatever." Walks for the doors, brisk stride the opposite of that which brought her in through them.

February 4th: Time's Up
February 4th: Desaturate
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