Hell Hath No Fury... (Open)

[Olivia Parkinson]

Livvy was back in her hometown. Las Vegas, the city of great gain, great loss, and heaping mountains of debauchery and crime. One stood out, so she'd been dispatched. She was to meet whoever she was working with at some sidewalk cafe, so she sat at a table, reading the file.
Apparently, some poor woman had been found dismembered. No, not dismembered. Not quite. "Torn apart" would be an better way to describe it. She was the third one in a week. According to the autopsy files, all of the woman had been kidnapped, raped repeatedly and quite violently, then.... then....
Livvy closed the file and took a sip of her drink. Normally, she wouldn't be so squeamish, but the woman had all been raped. Brutally, according to the file. She set the file on the table and waited for whoever was going to be working with her.

[Tristan Gallant]

Ah, Vegas. The hometown of Tristan Gallant from his con days. He hadn't expected to find himself here. So many memories, both good and bad. He gazed up at one of the higher-up buildings. One of them was his old penthouse. He hadn't gone back to it in a while, except to pack up a few of his things. He wondered about the condition it was in. Some new irresponsible philanthropist had probably taken up residence and turned it into an art studio or something. Tristan smiled at the thought. As he recalled, he had left a fair amount of money in the hidden compartment under the sofa. Call it a charitable donation.

"You must be Miss Parkinson." he gave his apparent work associate one of his suave grins as he sat down opposite her. "I'm your fellow agent Tristan Gallant." Then again, he was working from a photo, so he had no way of knowing for sure.

[Olivia Parkinson]

Livvy's eyes moved up, observing her partner. She sat back into her seat, crossing her legs.
"Please, call me Livvy." She smiled. "So, I assume you've been briefed on what we're looking into?"

[Tristan Gallant]

"Crazy dismemberment." Tristan replied. "Reminds me of the case with the Ulfberht."

[Olivia Parkinson]

"Each of the victims were women, and each was kidnapped and apparently gang-raped quite brutally beforehand." Livvy said, sliding the file across the table towards Tristan. The best thing we have is each woman has a mark on her left hand like a tan from wearing a ring, but none of the victims seems to own any rings."

[Tristan Gallant]

"This could be someone or something that takes rings as trophies of their victims." Tristan glanced at his hands. He had his class ring on one hand, and a jeweled one on his other. "I can sort of relate."

[Olivia Parkinson]

"Whatever's happening to these girls, it has something to do with those rings." Livvy said. "I say we go to the police. I still have some friends in homicide, we might be able to get some solid leads from them."

[Tristan Gallant]

"That's a, um, good idea." Tristan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The thought of him going to police made him feel a bit uncomfortable. "I'll follow your lead on this one."

[Olivia Parkinson]

Livvy noticed the shift. "Someone a little nervous about talking to the cops? You DO realize that your status as a Division 42 agent prevents them from arresting you, right?"

[Tristan Gallant]

"Won't stop them from trying." He said. "You don't know Vegas cops like I do."

[Olivia Parkinson]

"Oh really now? I worked in the LVPD for 4 years. I think I know Vegas cops as well as you do, if not a little better." Livvy replied.

[Tristan Gallant]

"I'm surprised you didn't try to arrest me, then." he grinned. "So, after you."

[Olivia Parkinson]

"I worked homicide." Livvy said, rising and walking down the street. This cafe was coincidentally just a few blocks from LVPD headquarters, so it was a short walk.

[Tristan Gallant]

"No time for a con artist, huh?" Tristan adjusted his tie. He wanted to look his best when he went into the headquarters.

[Olivia Parkinson]

"Only if said con artist were to kill someone." Livvy said, smiling at Tristan. He certainly had impeccable fashion sense.