Chapter Text
“What did you think, being paired with them? Odd enough, being put with two new partners?”
Marty huffed out a laugh “what’d I think?” He repeats, his eyes flickering up as if he was thinking “well, it was like having siblings, twin siblings to be exact and you were the outsider in their little duo but you liked ‘em well enough.”
Marty huffed out a laugh at the analogy “that's what everyone called them; “The Twins” so similar that if Honey wasn't a girl you wouldn't be able to tell them apart they were so similar.”
“Rust came out of Texas and Willow out south, new to the office” Marty explains. “They were edgy, and it took damn near three months till they agreed to have dinner with me and the girls.”
He couldn't help but eye the detectives across from him “just before the big bust, and that is why y'all are here? Dora Lange and the kids?”
“Yes but we’d like to hear more about Cohle and Graham, Graham specifically.”
“Honey?” The name left Marty’s mouth before he could stop it “why Honey?”
“Because we want to know what exactly happened, we heard stories; many called her and Cohle strange.”
“Strange?” Marty chuckled and ran a hand down his face “yeah, strange all right. Rust would pick a fight with water and Honey could pick apart what was wrong with it.”
___
“Dora Lange.”
The name still left a bad taste in Rust’s mouth even years after ‘95.
“Yeah, ritualistic murder” Rust pulled the cigarette carton from his shirt pocket and put the cigarette between his lips.
“Um, I'm sorry you can't smoke in here”
Rust pointed to the cigarette hanging from his mouth “don't be an asshole, you wanna hear this story or not?”
A cup was shoved in his direction, probably as a makeshift ash tray, he flicked his cigarette into the cup before settling down in his chair.
“Cops from Erath called in to help out in a sugar field and I had been on the job about three months. January 3rd, 1995: Sophia’s birthday” Rust began “I remember.”
__
“What can you tell us about Dora Lange, Ms. Graham?”
Her lips wrapped around a cigarette as Will stared down at the detectives in front of her.
“Dora Lange.” Smoke left her mouth as Will spoke, “Now that is a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”
Will flicked her cigarette into a cup despite their warning that she couldn’t smoke in the room, not that Will gave a shit either way.
“Ritualistic murder, occult, all that jazz,” Will says while making a vague gesture with her hand.
“You did a small stint in Baltimore’s state hospital, correct?”
Will nodded, “oh yes, under the complete love and care of Dr. Fredrick Chilton,” she smiles “I’m rehabilitated and also innocent I didn’t kill all those women if that’s what you’re asking.”
“But,” Will reached over and flipped open the file that was on the table, “let’s talk ‘95.”
___
The car stopped at an intersection between the fields, an officer leaned down into the window.
“Hart, Cohle, and Graham, state CID” Marty introduced and the cop wrote down their names as they stepped out of the car.
The gravel crunches under their shoes as they move towards the tree.
“Who found her?” Graham asks, her voice matching her face; quiet, light. Every time Rust looked at her the more of her features he took in.
Her long brown hair was tangled into a bun at the top of her head with strands falling to frame her face which had glasses perched on her nose.
Graham dressed much like Rust and Marty did. Dress pants with a red button down, her tie and belt were black to match.
“Farmer and his son” the officer tells “this wasn't a scheduled burn.”
“Well let's keep them away and tape all this off” Marty commands “hand me your log.”
Another officer held up the tape to allow them in but stopped at Graham “I'm sorry, ma’am but this isn't something a lady should see.”
“She's with us” Rust’s voice is defensive and snappy “let her in” the tape was lifted again allowing Graham inside.
“Bastard” she mumbled with scowl “who gives a fuck?” Rust could only shake his head at her “no one, don't mind him.”
The closer they got to the tree the closer look Rust got.
There, at the base of the tree, was a woman who kneeled; her hands tied in prayer with her head bowed and atop her head were antlers. Her eyes covered with a cloth and her red hair made her naked skin seem bright.
Rust pulled his gloves out with a nod from Marty.
He stood over the girl, and on her back was an inked spiral.
“Have you even seen anything like this?” The sheriff asked Marty who shook his head “not in my eight years of CID. Graham?”
The woman looked back at the two men and shook her head “no, I worked in homicide briefly but this is ritualistic so whoever it is has a fantasy, something to show.”
Rust agreed fullheatedly.
“They're satanic symbols” the sheriff states but Graham shrugged “no ID?” she asked which was another no.
Marty began talking about a grid search and gathering men but Rust focused on the girl and Graham who had come to stand behind his kneeling figure.
“You tell me what you see, I tell you what I see” she says, firm and without argument.
“Ligature marks on wrists and ankles so she was bound” Rust began “shallow stab wounds to the abdomen, abrasions along her back, legs and arms like carpet burn.”
“I see a man's fantasy” Graham whispers “a sacrifice, a coronation, a gift to God” her eyes cut and locked with his own which had been staring “or, someone's God, at least. He wants to prove something “hello, hello”” she mimics “‘your gift I made just for you””
A camera clicked which startled Graham into whipping around to look, it was only Marty who had been listening to what he probably thought were two schizos talking.
He opened his book.
____
“i always took a lot of notes, I mean I would write it down just in case I got an “ah ha!” Moment down the line” Rust took a long drag of his cigarette before tapping the ash into the mug.
“Honey wrote in it too, I guess you can say we shared it” Rust explains with a shrug.
“Why do you guys call her that? “Honey?””
Rust barked out a laugh “oh we’ll get to that.”
He tapped the case file on the table “this is a meta-psychotic which I had to explain to Marty but of course not to Honey. She was always on the same page, wave length, as me” he taps his cigarette again “it's why they called us twins.”
____
“You and Rust were called Twins?”
Will nodded, her eyes kept on the table “yeah” she sighed “yeah, people saw us as the same coin with the only difference in sides in gender.”
“Would you consider Rust to be your family?”
Will is quiet for a moment before nodded “yes, yes I do.”
___
“This will happen again” Rust states as he circled the body.
“I don't doubt it happened before” Graham rebuttals “it's too meticulous, practiced, specific. Either his imagination is impeccable or he's killed like this before but something went wrong.”
“Impeccable like yours?” Rust counters but Graham only shook her head.
“No, my imagination helps set my empathy, it helps me feel what the killer feels, what they felt in the moment and why they did what they did, gives me their perspective. This?” She waved a hand to the scene “has no empathy, no feeling, whoever did this thought of her as a sacrifice for their own gain.”
“This is his fetish, his vision, he made her body a paraphilic love map” Rust continues.
“How so?” Marty finally says from behind them.
“It's a physical attachment of lust to fantasies and practices forbidden by society” Rust explains but Marty raised an eyebrow “get that from one of your books?”
“Yes” and they all go quiet again.
“Given how she was physically, she was most likely a prost” Rust offered to break the awkward silence and Graham nodded in agreement.
“He didn't know her, not personally at least” Graham moves on.
“You- you guys read the same books right?” In an almost eerie way, Graham and Rust nodded at the same time.
“Then you could tell me if there was a chapter on jumping to conclusions?” Rust couldn't help but share a look with Graham “if you push a narrative onto a piece of evidence then you bend it to support it.”
“Wait on the ID” Graham says as she passes Marty and walks off, Rust turning to follow and lighting a cigarette.
“Graham, Rust, wait” Marty called after, making them both turn around to face him.
“We, uh, can't put Maggie off any longer. She wants y'all for dinner” Marty states “can't put her off anymore.’
Graham only nods before walking and Rust sighs “al’ ight” his Texan drawl mixes his words as he turns to walk back with Graham.
__
“It wasn't even sundown and he invited me and Honey over for dinner which is a problem cause all I can think about is Maggie and their daughters and how it's Sophia’s birthday and how nothing I could do could stop me from having a drink”
He turned up drunk, Marty and his kids standing in the door with Honey nowhere to be seen which he now knew was because she was sitting with Maggie in the kitchen, Unknowing to a friend that never drank with her but stood in their partners doorway piss drunk off his ass.
Rust disappointed Honey too many times in his lifetime.
__
The car ride was quiet for the most part but Rust, watching the small town go by, can't help from breaking that quiet.
“The people out here are disconnected from outside life like it doesn't exist at all” His rough voice mumbles “it's like living on the fucking moon.”
“Ghettos are everywhere” Marty replied but Rust shook his head “one giant one floating in space.”
Even from the back Rust could feel Graham roll her eyes “maybe but we're all living in it” she states matterafactly “might as well suck it up and deal with it.”
Marty nods along with her sentiment “today, that scene, I ain't never seen anything like it. So fucked up to do that I don't consider it human.”
The car is silent for a moment before Marty speaks once more “ask you something?” He asks Rust who says nothing in response.
“You're Christian, yeah?”
“No.”
“And you, Graham?”
“No, Roman- Catholic.”
Marty was very obviously trying to connect, Rust could tell but it wasn't going very well. Trying to connect with two people so different from himself had to be hard.
“Well then what do you need a cross for?” Marty bluntly asks “it’s a form of meditation, I think about allowing my own crucifixion.”
And if Marty's face could tell a story, Rust could hear Graham snort in the back.
“But you don't connect it to Christianity? What is your belief?” Marty sounded nervous asking that, and it was honestly pissing Rust off.
“I believe you shouldn't talk about this shit at work.”
Before Marty can retort Graham speaks up “I was raised Roman Catholic but I can't say I'm much of a believer, I think praying is just people screaming at the universe in hopes of acknowledgement from a being that might be there.”
Rust laughs lightly because that's exactly how he sees it too.
Marty only huffs “well we've been working together for three months, get nothing out of the both of you besides Graham actually joining me for drinks, just do me a courtesy and I'm not trying to convert y'all.”
“I consider myself a realist but in philosophy I am a pessimist.”
“What's that?”
“Means he's bad at parties” Graham's voice says from behind them making Marty chuckle “well he ain't good outside of ‘em too” he jokes while Rust sends them an annoyed look.
“I think human consciousness is a misstep in evolution, too self aware of ourselves that we are separate from our nature; being that should not exist by nature's law.”
“Well that's just God fucking awful, Rust” Marty squirms in his seat.
“We are creatures that, under the illusion, have a self because of sensory feeling. We are programmed to be somebody but actually we are all nobody.”
“Jesus- fuck-, Graham you hearing this?” Marty calls and Graham hums.
“I don't agree we’re all nobody” she starts “but I do think that some people aren't people at all, just things wearing human suits to pass.”
“oh Christ” groans Marty “don’t go spreading that shit, people around here don't think like that, Graham and I, kinda Graham, don't think like that” Marty huffed but it was in one ear and out the other.
“The best solution is to deny our programming, stop having children, and allow our extinction with an open heart” Marty only shakes his head in disbelief.
“What's the point of getting up then?”
“There is none” Graham says suddenly, making Rust turn to her “at least, I don't think so. You make a point, my point is saving lives and Rust’s is his programming with the lack of will for suicide so” she shrugs as she stares out the window.
“God, I had to pick today to get to know y'all" Marty sighed “three months and no word- now-.”
“You fucking asked” Graham hissed “yeah, now I'm begging you both to shut the fuck up, mainly him!” Marty states.
Rust breaks the silence in favor of Graham “Willow, do you get a bad taste in your mouth? Like ash? Like psychophere?”
“Okay!” Marty yells “the car is now a place of silent reflection!”
It goes silent again with the only sound being Willow's huffing chuckle in disbelief.
“what would Maggie like me to bring to dinner?” she asks, not good with socializing, Rust could hear it in her voice.
“Wine would be nice but you don't have to bring anything, Will” Marty concedes “that's a man's job.” He gave a pointed look to Rust who rolled his eyes in response.
He didn't say it to be particularly rude to Graham, Marty meant it as it was a courtesy a man should do, not when the lady is a guest at your house.
“I'll bring a desert" was her only response and Marty gives a laughing sigh.
“You do that," he says with a smile, Marty likes Graham, she's young, only twenty-one, and he sees his daughters in her.
They ended up back at the station, Marty throwing his jacket onto his desk while Graham and Rust took their respective seats.
“Hart!” Their boss called from his office before slamming it shut once more, Marty let out a groan before, what was almost, stomping to the office.
Graham chuckled and flipped through files on her desk but Rust can't help but hear the conversation from behind them.
“- like antlers or something?”
“You don't know?”
“Ask Rust or Graham!”
“The Twins? No way.”
Marty came out a few moments later, more agitated then when he went in “fuck that guy” he mumbles making Graham chuckle again.
“What's funny, honey?” Marty cracked with a smile, and Graham scowled but from what Rust could see there was no real heat in her eyes.
“Don't call me that, I hate it” she drawls and Marty laughs.
“Well now, I gotta” Graham shakes her head but her lips turn up into what could be called a smile and turned back to her papers on the desk.
Marty grabbed his jacket before rounding the table and passing by the group behind them “briefing is tomorrow, bright an’ early.”
Time faded into the night and most of the floor was gone, Graham stood at the white board writing down leads and Marty typed up reports and suddenly Rust couldn't be there anymore.
“Y'all mind if I escape?” Rust pulled on his suit jacket making Marty and Graham look up at him “I got names from vice, prost farms I'm gonna go check it out.”
“Want me or Will to go with you?” Marty asked and Rust could feel Will’s annoyance burning his back so he shook his head.
“No, just something to do.”
“Yeah, go on,” Marty sighed. “Me and Willow here will take care of the paperwork.”
__
“Like I said, I'm feeling a lot of stuff hit me at this time; Sophia’s birthday, this dead woman so I decided to work the case until we got something substantial.”
He left out of the part of by queludeds from hookers while on duty.
“What about Graham? Did she stay with Hart or at the precinct?”
“Uh well I’m assuming she stayed with Marty until he went home, drove herself even if Marty offered” Rust explains, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“Sounds like Hart and Graham got along well.”
“Yes, they did, oddly enough” Rust could see why they said that, Will and Marty were very different but they loved each other; they were family.
“Hart called the three of y'all siblings, did it ever escalate into something…more? We know Hart's history-.”
Rust could help but bark out a laugh “Marty and Honey?! No fucking way, she was just about to kick his dick in when she caught wind.”
__
“Well hey, Honey” Marty groggyily cheered as Graham walked up the sidewalk.
“I told you not to call me that” Will chastised, but accepted his side hug all the same, Marty chuckled and kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they went inside.
“- and I’m debriefing the squad all morning.”
“I thought Marty was doing that?”
“He is” Will calls as they enter the floor “morning Cathy” Cathy flashes Will a smile as she enters, Will pushes herself out from under Marty's arm and into the office.
“Morning baby” Cathy greets back “how do y'all want your coffee?”
“Black” Marty and Will say before Rust is walking up to them.
“Prints came back; Dora Kelly Lange” Rust introduced, handing Marty the file “arrested for possession, shoplifting and solicitation” his tone has a twinge of smugness in the fact that Will and him had been right.
“has a place outside St. Martinsville but the landlord claims she hasn't lived there in a year. Has an ex named Charlie Lange who is currently incarcerated Avoylles because fucker can't write a check, moms out by Breaux Bridge, DMV expired and DiCillo called” Rust finished his monologue with handing Marty a pink slip.
“Lets go, Will, we got a body to see” Rust called as they both walked out; Marty hot on their heels.
They made it to the morgue quickly, DiCillo pulling the body out from the freezer with no problem.
“No prints because someone bathed her before” DiCillo began “she was bound by half inch rope for 10 to 20 hours. She had sex beforehand, bound upright and no food found in her stomach while her tox says she had LSD and methamphetamine.”
“Crystal and LSD?” Will confirm “but how much?”
“We don't know yet” DiCillo states with a shrug.
“So she was drugged, bound, tortured with a knife, strangled and placed out there” Marty explains back and Will can see it.
I knew her, vicariously not personally, we weren't friends or even knew each other and if we did it wasn't very well.
It starts out as sex, prostitution, but it turned into something far more horrific for Mrs. Lange when he bound her-....
“Can you guess how long the drugs were in her system?” Will asks suddenly not even noticing her abrupt interruption of DiCillo’s conversation with Rust and Marty.
“Well she was bound for about 10 to 20 hours so I'd say about that time” DiCillo says it like she's stupid, Marty and Rust glare but Will is already gone.
I drug her before I bind her, possibly consensual with her priors of possession, and keep her drugged the entire time so no matter how big I am, I cannot keep her complicit.
I tortured her with the knife, just because someone is drugged does not mean she cannot feel pain.
It just means she cannot do anything about it.
Binding her for 20 hours gives me time to do what I want, to practice my vision once more.
I strangle her, a personal way to kill just like the knife to torture her, I have to be up close to hurt her.
After she's dead I already have a place to put her, I set the fire to distract the father and the son so I have time to create my vision.
“He knew her” the statement left her mouth quickly, finding herself back in the present, making the men look at her.
“Talk to her ex husband” with Will left the morgue, a migraine bubbling under her eyes.
The sunlight hit her eyes with almost blinding precision, and Will could hear Marty and Rust join her.
“What the fuck was that?” Marty whispers harshly “we were calling your name but you wouldn't answer and now you have some made up lead?”
“No” Will choked out “no, this was personal but impersonal at the same time. The weapons he used, the strangulation, he wanted to be close to see life leave her eyes but he didn't know her, they didn't meet! She didn't know him outside of that one time sex! He- he fucking blindfolded her so she couldn't see him!”
Her breathing was erratic, overwhelmed by her mind and Rust and Marty only stared at her.
“Do y'all have any aspirin?”
The boys shook their heads leading Will to just get in the car and put her head in her hands, they continued talking outside, something about fading memories that Will doesn't give a shit about.
They get in the car without a fight, Rust rolling up his sleeves.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Marty asks Rust who shook his head “no, I don't sleep” was Rust's answer.
“Will?”
“No.”
That conversation ended after that and the car ride back to the station was quiet.
By the time they entered the station, they were immediately shot into a debrief. Will, and Rust were made to stand front and center with Marty as he continued on and on about Dora Lange and the case.
Will couldn't help but feel stiffly uncomfortable, all the eyes trained on her felt like strings around her throat. She was the only female detective in the entire department and that made eye contact even harder to manage.
If Will looked any one of them in the eye she would see too much.
__
“You have a business now?”
Marty sighed “yeah, PI now. Security, you know?” He took a sip of his coffee. “Lots leave the job but find themselves bored, so they start investigating on their own.”
“Like Cohle and Graham?”
“No” his laugh was bitter “Honey went on to be a teacher at Quantico for the FBI, she made it in the police world” Marty was always quick to defend her.
“You sound proud.”
Marty laughs again but this time, it held more joy “of course I am!” He exclaims “she deserves to teach rookies her ways, she's an amazing detective with an amazing gift and I am very proud to call her my family.”
Marty sighs once again but more content “you know, for what happened with Ladoux she never once fired her gun” He shrugged with a smug smile “didn't see the need.”
___
“Y’all believe in ghosts?”
“What did we say about silent reflection?”
Rust couldn't help but take note of Will’s lack of response.
Their leads turned to door to door interviews, one woman talking about dove hunting but no knowledge of anything happening.
One man had a thought though.
“Is it that Fontenot girl?” The man’s voice is accented with creole roots.
“Who?” Will asks, people will talk better when a woman is asking questions “and why would you ask?”
“Don't know” he made Will want to groan “last time something like this happened it was the Fontenot girl going missing.”
“And how old was she?” Rust is already opening his ledger, pen ready to write.
“Dunno” sweet Jesus, did this man know anything? “Little” Will is honestly glad she didn't have her gun on her.
Marty, seemingly sensing her growing frustration, steps in “and do you know where they live, sir?”
And all the man did was stare, not answering Marty, in fact he seemed to stare at Willow, trying to catch her eyes.
Rust couldn't help but step in front of Will, not in a sense to protect her she did that herself, but to keep the man's eyes away from her. Her aversion didn't go unnoticed to him or Marty.
Then the man hobbled forward, with his hand raised to point “they had a place a couple streets down but they moved.”
Will was gonna tear her hair out.
Rust's hands came around her shoulders, steering her away before she leapt over the fence to strangle the man.
The next place they were led too was a church, the sky was fading into pink as they spoke to the minister.
“What do you know about the Fontenot girl?” Rust asks.
“Uh, her family came to our service once or twice, five or six years back” the minister says “is that the girl? Oh Lord” he sounds mournful and sad but Marty was quick to correct him.
“No sir, it’s not."
Will kept herself by the car while Rust continued inside with the minister.
Will didn't like this, she couldn't get a good read on this person. Personal yet impersonal, tidy yet messy, it didn't make much sense.
After the minister who told them about devil traps they met with Sheriff Tate about the Fontenot girl.
“There ain't shit here” Will bluntly states, throwing the file onto the table “just report made in error.”
“Ted Childress was sheriff back then but he's in gulf shores now” Tate says, leaning back in his seat while Marty sat straighter.
“Ten year old girl goes missing but it's not state wide?” Marty demands but Tate points a finger at Marty.
“Now hold now, she ran off with her birth daddy. Mom made a complaint but didn't really look into it. She ran off with her new boyfriend.”
Will sighed again, she was gonna lose air with how many men with tiny brains she has to deal with.
The Fontenot girl supposedly left with her dad but the dad never showed? If her mother had custody and the father took her, that's still kidnapping but her mother never pressed charges so it ended at that.
Despite not having children of her own, Will couldn't imagine doing something like that. Her own father loved her a lot, and made a point to show it too.
She’d like to be a mother. Will couldn't live with herself if she had a child and willingly gave her up, not worrying if Marie was hurt or scared or hungry.
Will wouldn't abandon what Marie's mother just gave away.
There was another girl, something about a green eared spaghetti monster chasing her in the woods.
While inherently impossible beyond a child's imagination it wasn't far off for a predator to be disguised to avoid detection.
___
“How was Graham with children?”
The question startled Rust in a way he wasn't used to.
“Fine?” It came out more of a question “she never gave off any indication of wanting one, didn't seem like a person to want one but she was Aunty Willow to Audrey and Masie.”
This whole thing was starting to get in Rust's nerves. Badly.
The clock in the back chimes for one, perfect.
While these two shit heels say that everything he says is admissible doesn't mean they were lying. A tactic he himself used when working people in interrogation.
“Listen guys I'm gonna have to call a time out” he made a T with his hands as he stood “make a beer run.”
“Why don't you hold off on that?”
Rust put his hand on his hip as he took a drag of his cigarette “well, why don't y'all go get it then?”
“We don't want to do that.”
“Well this is supposed to be admissible, right?” He pulled a twenty from his wallet “you work me you'd buy me a cheeseburger and a coke.”
Rust threw the twenty on the table “old Milwaukee or lone star, nothing snooty” he took his seat with another drag of his cigarette.
“Why is this important?”
This is gonna make him sound like a functioning alcoholic but if it gets his answer then whatever.
“Because it's Thursday and it's past noon, Thursday is my day off and on my day off I start drinking at noon. You don't get to interrupt that” Rust snarks, staring the detective in the eyes.
Rust leaned down and blew the dollar across the table, a smartass way to say he's serious.
The bill is snatched and a chair pushes against the carpet.
“I'd like a little Hussle up on that.”
The door slams.
_____
Rust shuffled his feet as he stood next to Marty and Will from their spot behind Quesada, who was talking to the press about Dora Lange.
All regular stuff, what gender, where they found her, what they thought happened, and they can't say who it is which got the crowd rowdy of course.
“- our investigators have several leads and hopefully we’ll have a suspect for you in custody” Quesada finishes.
Will was quick to leave after that, they had plans and this conference was infringing on said plans; which was to talk to Charlie Lange, Dora’s husband.
“Charlie, let's talk about your ex; Dora.”
“You wanna talk Dori? What’s she said I’ve done now?”
Marty stood behind Rust and Will as they sat in front of Charlie.
“Nothing, we’re just curious if you knew what she's been up to and maybe where she's living?” Rust asked, his ledger open in his lap for notes.
“Who she was seeing maybe?” Will cuts in, her voice unnaturally soft. A play, one that Rust saw right through.
People will talk to women.
“Nope” Charlie popped the "got divorce papers after about a year, being here. I don't blame the bitch.”
“She got a habit?” Marty asked and Charlie laughed “uh yeah a few!”
“Weed, meth, juice” he counted off his fingers before slamming it down onto the table “name it, she was on it” Charlie chuckled
“How'd y'all meet?
“Growing up together, dropped out together, hitched up too quickly. Like you want a wife but only half the time?”
Charlie turned to Will with fake sadness “sorry if that offended you, sweetheart.”
“Hey!” Rust barked “be an asshole all you want but you'll respect detective Graham, she’ll kick your teeth in.”
If the threat affected Charlie he didn't show it “why are you saying you hadn't heard from her? She called up here for you.”
“Aw, she couldn't help me anyway man! All sorts of fucked up!”
“You see, that’s the kinda thing we do want to talk about, what was wrong with her? What was she saying?” Will asks with her pen pointed at Charlie.
He seemed a bit surprised at Will’s question “oh, well I needed scratch for my store, Dori owes me money but she ain't got a fucking phone so I call Carla ask her to call me back and she ain't make no fucking sense.”
“Carla’s full name, number and address” Marty says as he pushes a notepad to Charlie.
As he began writing Rust continued on “what do you mean she didn't make sense?”
“Like she could duck hunt with a rake!” Charlie laughed but it was quickly cut off when he noticed the detectives obviously did not find it funny “she was high!”
He continued to scribble on the paper “saying shit about being a nun.”
“Why a nun?” Will asked but Charlie shrugs “I don't know, she was high! Fucked up! Something about meeting a king.”
A king? Will was very obviously ignoring Charlie now, talking about snitching and Marty calling Avoyelles a day camp compared to Angola.
What king was Dora talking about? And being a nun? Two very different things but interconnected as royalty often controls the church.
“What’d Dori do?”
“Dori’s dead.”
____
“We spoke to Charlie about Dora, he said something about becoming a nun and meeting a king- I don't know this was a long time ago” Will sighed, staring at the men in front of her.
“What about that dinner, Ms Graham?”
“Oh where Rust turned up drunk?” Will laughed bitterly “yeah, I was with Maggie helping in the kitchen when Marty came and grabbed me, brought me to the porch where Rust stood.”
Will whistled, her hand gently patting Lily's back with a chuckle “I was spittin’ fire I was so mad” Will admits “not only embarrassing himself but Marty and I as well, making us look like fools in front of Maggie.”
____
“What the hell man?!” Marty hissed as Will paced, a hand drug down her face.
“You don't drink with me or Willow but you get a load on before you visit my family?!” Marty demands, his hand on his hip.
“No Marty it's not like that” Rust croaks, his hand clutching a coffee mug “I was working on a CI and ended up hanging around a bar, I didn't mean to. I couldn't think of a reason not to have one, I usually can.”
“Oh God damnit, Rust” Will hissed, her heels clicking against the wood of the porch “I'm going inside with Maggie and the girls, you two shitheads better fix this cluster fuck or so help me God you will feel my foot in your ass for two weeks!”
With that, Willow left them, back inside where nothing was wrong.
“That is one scary woman,” Marty sighs. “I can almost feel her foot in my ass and she hasn't even done anything.”
Marty pinched the bridge of his nose before turning back to Rust “I’ll call Chris, have him call me so you’ll have a way out but please try to make ten minutes of conversation or it's both our heads on Will’s dinner plates.”
Rust is quiet for a moment, just staring at his feet in what looked like shame, the feeling bubbling under his skin.
“I don't drink because I have problems with it, I didn't mean to” Rust's voice was sad in a way Marty hadn't ever heard before, he sighed.
“Don't worry about it, just have some more coffee.”
Marty turned and moved back inside, seeing Maggie setting the table and from the corner of his eye is Will sitting on the couch.
Maisie is kneeling on the ground, her arms propped up on the couch as she showed Will a toy she was holding, and Will seemed very interested in what she had to say.
“And her name is Orange Blossom and his name is Huckleberry Pie!” Maisie explains, holding up two dolls, she set down one of them and held up another “and this is Lemon Meringue!”
Will seemed very interested in these little dolls with food names that Marty never really understood.
“Oh they're beautiful” Will says, taking the lemon one into her hand “I never had dolls like these, you’re a very lucky girl Miss Maisie.”
Maisie cocked her head in confusion “what kinda dolls did you have, Willow?”
“Oh my dolls were made by my mama, and my grandma. They had button eyes and patch work dresses, with string hair much like raggedy Ann but my very own” Will explains softly, handing the doll back to the girl.
“I've got no use for ‘em now but maybe I'll bring ‘em over for you and Audrey, see if y'all like ‘em, I sure did” Will brushed a stray blonde hair out of Maisie's face which had the little girl giggling.
“Audrey doesn't like dolls” Maisie admits quietly “not really, she kinda mean with them.”
“Oh then it means more for you then” Will whispers with a smile, her hand cupped Maisie's, holding it as she stood.
“C’mon, it smells like your mama has dinner ready” their hands swing as the two girls move into the dining room, passing Marty and now Rust who had silently crept inside.
Maisie sat beside her sister Audrey, while Marty and Maggie took seats opposite of each other.
Rust and Will sat next to each other, with Marty on Will’s left.
“Well Rust, Willow, it is so nice to finally meet you both” Maggie says “sorry it took so long.”
“Well, I tried to tell her y'all aren't big on socializing” Marty interjects with a small eye towards Maggie.
“I said that your life's in these people's hands, it's only nice to have them for dinner.”
Will and Rust had yet to say anything, despite Will’s conversation with Maisie. Children were better to talk to in Will’s opinion, they're more honest than most. Nothing to hide.
“Well it's not quite as dramatic as that, hon” Marty rebuttals with a sip of his cup “never fired my gun.”
“Have you?” Audrey’s voice cut through the adult talk, her eyes trained on Will and Rust “fired your gun?”
“Audrey!” Maggie hissed “that's rude!”
“No, it's fine Maggie” Will chuckles “to answer your question, Audrey, no I haven't. I don't see the need to pull my gun for every problem unlike many people I know.”
Audrey deflated at the answer but Maisie, of course, was very transfixed by Will.
“I have” Rust's quiet admission silences the table.
“You shot people?” Maisie asked, her voice laced with disbelief, and her form fell from her mouth.
“Maisie!”
“Dad never shot anybody, neither has Will,” Audrey reiterated, Rust's tired eyes looking directly at her.
“Well that's good, you don't want to shoot people. It hurts them, you don't wanna hurt anybody” Rust rebuttals, his fork picking at his food more than actually eating anything.
“But you have?”
“Uh, Audrey, this isn't really dinner conversation” Will chuckles nervously, drawing the girls attention from Rust.
“Marty says you're from Texas, Rust?” Maggie quickly changed the subject.
“Yes, South Texas but I grew up in Alaska, just been working here for about ten years.”
“And Willow?”
“Uh southern Louisiana, on the bayous but I lived a little bit of everywhere; Louisiana is just one place I've been longer than a year.”
Maisie and Audrey were whispering across the table, most likely about their dinner guests.
“How old are you, Willow?” Maggie asked, her smile almost sickly sweet.
“Twenty one, ma’am” Willow admits quietly, more focused on her food than her age.
“And you're already a detective for CID?” “I trained in homicide briefly but they transferred me.”
“And what kinda work, Rust?” Marty asked, trying to defuse whatever Maggie had been cooking with Willow.
“Narcotics, mostly, robbery squad till about ‘89” Rust quietly says and then an odd beeping rang out throughout the dining room.
Oh right, the pager. Rust was drunk, and couldn't stay the whole night.
Maisie gave Will a giggly smile from across the table which she returned gratefully, Will found she liked Maisie, She could see a lot of herself inside the little girl, the very little good in herself that is.
“One moment, y’all” Marty rumbled as he stood, eyes glued to his pager and stepped out of the room.
Rust kept his eyes down low but they stared out at Audrey and Maisie. Lost in thought about the girls.
“Children?” Maggie asked, a smile on her face as her daughter’s giggle across the table at each other.
“One” Rust supplied stiffly, very obviously uncomfortable with the new conversation and Maggie goes to say something; if Will had to guess it would have been about bringing said child to dinner one day, have her play with the girls but Rust beat her to the punch.
“She passed.”
The table is silent once again, this time a choking, horrible silence with only Maggie’s fork clattering against her plate making any noise.
It was uncomfortable and suffocating and Rust seemed to understand that "marriage didn’t last long after that.”
Okay, not what Will had in mind but alright. Rust was never good with people, or he just didn’t care for the sanctity and comfort for them either.
What Maggie or Will thought about his daughter didn’t matter to him because he simply didn’t care for the opinions of others.
He knew when to apologize, he had feelings, he was empathetic and sympathetic but Will knew he didn’t care for what others thought about him.
Will didn’t care much either , too empathetic for her own good with her glasses to make a barrier between herself and the outside world.
She doesn’t give apologies, apologies aren’t shit when the person doesn’t want it nor do they need it.
Maggie, however, didn’t feel the same as Will and a small apology left her mouth with Rust saying nothing in response.
Marty comes back from his pager and sits down with a groan “Rust, Chris is on the phone for you.”
With a small “excuse me” Rust left the dining room, leaving Will with Marty and his family.
“And what of you Willow?” Maggie asks “any family?”
“Uh, I’m not married nor do I have kids” Will admits “I moved out here because it’s close to my dad’s hospital and I prefer the company of my dogs to humans.”
“Is your dad alright?” Marty rumbled from beside her, lips wrapped around the edge of his cup.
“Ah, early onset dementia mixed with liver problems from drinking, never a good mix but he’s a good man” Will took a sip from her glass, trying to fix the growing pain in her throat.
Talking about her dad hurt more than she liked to admit.
Her father, Beau, was a gentle man. At least he was around her; his sweet weeping Willow.
The drinking started after Mama left, leaving them alone together. Dad with his bottles and Will with her dolls.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Willow” Maggie apologized, despite its unnecessary value.
It’s all Willow ever got about her father; useless sorrows that don’t fix the fact her father can’t tell the difference between his daughter and his deadbeat wife.
Willow doesn’t want Maggie’s fake apologies.
Will’s apologies won’t fix Maggie’s cheating husband.
Oh yes, Will knows all about her; Liza or Leslie, something with an L but it’s hard to hide things from a woman who sees everything, who makes profiles on almost everyone she sees.
And Marty was never good at hiding it anyway, not when you come to work smelling like sex and another woman’s perfume.
How did Will know it wasn’t Maggie’s perfume if she never met the woman? Well when Marty comes into work smelling like strawberries but his wife smells like flowers it’s pretty obvious.
Maggie probably thought it was Willow she was smelling on her husband except for the fact she used Old Spice and not Dove.
Some twenty something whore that caught his attention, most likely looks like a younger Maggie except this younger Maggie wants to do things the real Maggie would never.
A nihilist, a troubled empath and a deadbeat walk into a bar; what a funny joke.
Out of the three of them, Willow is the only one with a grasp on real morality. Isn’t that the punchline?
Maggie was gossiping about Rust, about how they didn’t know much about him and Marty saying that Rust wasn’t a man that someone would particularly like to learn about.
Rust took his seat once more, placing his napkin back onto his lap as Maggie cleared her throat.
“So, Rust” Maggie says, a smile plastered back on her face “as you were saying?”
Oh, this mean bitch.
“Oh I’m sure we can find something better to talk about” Rust’s smile is forced as he redirects the conversation.
He takes the spoon from the pasta bowl and puts a generous amount onto his plate “dinner is lovely Maggie, thank you.”
“Thank you, Rust."
Marty clears his throat, staring Rust down as the man poked his food “so is everything okay? Don’t gotta check on that CI?” Marty gruffly asks before shoving his fork into his mouth.
“Ah nothin’ that can’t wait ‘till tomorrow” Rust chuckles.
The dinner continues as most would, Rust and Marty talk fishing while Maggie takes sideways glances at a still silent Willow.
What a lovely night, the small sarcastic voice says in Will’s ear.
____
“So you, and Cohle went bad in ‘02, correct? Heard about that.”
Marty sipped his coffee with a small huff “well what happened between me and him that’s got nothing to do with Dora Lange” Marty says firmly.
He tapped his fingers against the table in thought.
“I worked with Rust Cohle for seven years, people change” that’s what Marty liked to tell himself, Rust changed and Marty couldn’t help him.
“What about Graham?”
“It had nothing to do with Honey either, she wasn’t in state when me and Rust fell out” he hated the melancholy in his voice.
“You stay in touch? With either of ‘em?”
Marty cleared his throat “uh no, I haven’t talked to Rust in ten years and Honey wouldn’t return my calls, got a new number; so says every time I call the one I do know.”
“Why wouldn’t Graham call you?”
“Uh, busy being a badass most likely” Marty laughs before sighing once again “look however we ended, they were good detectives! That’s the truth, the crux of it all. No grudges as that leads to cancer.”
Why were these two asking about Rust and Will and Dinner when they’re supposed to be talking about Dora Lange?
Marty could only scoff “why ask about dinner? You’re here for ‘95? Let’s talk about ‘95! This other stuff is ridiculous and it’s making my partners sound like bad people!”
“Nothing, just heard stories, you know, about Graham’s condition and Cohle’s interrogation successes, I’d like to know his process.”
Marty goes silent.
They’re lying, he’s not stupid, something’s going on with his partners but these two don’t want to tell him.
All right, he can play along.
“‘His process’” Marty repeats “sure.”
___
“No, see?” Will points out, her finger barely gracing the page on the ledger “it wouldn’t work because she was already gone for a month-,”
“Yeah, I see it too” sighs Rust who held the ledger open.
They’d been staring at these notes for two hours trying to piece something together.
“The landlord said she trashed the place” detective Favre loudly stated “so the deposit was lost and her neighbors checked out.”
“We already knew that” Will can’t help but mutter, making Rust chuckle.
“Let him have his ‘win’, Honey“ Rust whispers back, making Will scowl back.
Favre was still going on about shit they already knew, her neighbors account of her, the landlords.
Favre came to where Will and Rust stood to put the file back on the desk but he stunk outrageously of alcohol.
Of course, coming into work drunk.
“Y’all canvass the bars pretty good today?” Rust couldn’t help but ask and Will couldn’t help but snort.
The floor went silent save for Will’s unashamed laughing, she didn’t care what these men think, she’ll laugh at them all day if she wanted.
Geraci did not think Rust's comment was very funny, despite looking thoroughly drunk with his messed up hair and untied tie and the fact he reeked of alcohol.
“Up your ass Cohle!” Geraci growled “why don’t you do your own fuckin’ work, you rat fuck!”
Before Rust could turn around, Geraci continued.
“And you!” His finger pointed right at a grinning Will “don’t you have a kitchen to clean? Or a dick to suck, honey?”
Will wasn’t grinning anymore.
“Woah!-,” Marty began but Rust was already face to face with the other detective and-,
SMACK!
And then flying through the air was a stapler, hitting Geraci right in the head and knocking him to the ground.
Rust could see his hand print on Geraci’s cheek and the bruise forming from the stapler Will threw.
“Oh shit-!”
“Woah! Out of line-!”
“Willow Graham!”
Rust stood over Geraci as he stared down at the disorientated man.
“You never say that shit again” Rust hissed, he didn’t bother finishing whatever threat he had cooked up.
“Say that shit to me again and I’ll staple your dick to the floor” Will calls from where she stood at her desk, her tone leaving no room for jokes.
Marty is standing next to her, ushering her away “Rust!” He yelled, making his partner face him “let’s go, y’all need to go home and sleep or something before you kill anyone.”
Rust spared on last withering look at Geraci before stomping off to join his partners.
Lutz was moving on as if nothing happened, trying to get the team back on track.
“What the fuck!?” Marty hissed “what would possess the two of you-?!”
“Did you hear what he said!?” Will demands, looking thoroughly pissed off “he accused me of sleeping my way to this position!”
“I know, Will, but you report that to the major or HR and not throw a stapler!”
While Rust should be paying attention to whatever Marty had to say, he was too busy watching the new people step into their office.
“What about you three?” The new voice asked, startling Will and Marty from their whisper argument “find anything new?”
Quesada stood there with a new man.
“Uh not much sir” Will quietly admits.
“Well you might know the reverend Tuttle” Their major introduced “this is Detective Hart, Detective Cohle and Detective Graham.
Tuttle held out his hand which they all shook “nice to meet you officers!”
They all said their greetings but Will could feel Tuttle’s eyes linger.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never met a woman detective before!” Tuttle laughs “how does that work, working under all the men?”
Oh this asshole.
“Fine, sir” Will smiles, men like when women smile at them “I’ve found I liked the profession.”
“Well, we are lucky to have you” Tuttle smiles back, he turns his attention back to the group.
“Your case has a lot of people taking care, doors locking where they used to not” Tuttle informs “Eddie’s been speaking to me about it and he’s very worried about it.”
“There’s a task force being made to investigate crimes that go under an anti-Christian connotation” an officer admitted, which throws Rust for a loop
And by the look of Will’s confused face, it threw her too.
“What?” Rust breathed, this can’t be real. Anti-Christian? What the fuck.
Ignoring Rust, Tuttle continues “I don’t need to tell detectives of your position but there is a war happening.”
Marty nods while Rust and Will are silent beside him, nothing good to say why say it at all?
Tuttle held out his hand once more “thank you for your commitment.”
Marty shakes it with a smile “thank you sir
Rust shook his hand as if he was radioactive and he’d die if he touched him.
“Eddie will be very pleased to know he has such good officers on his case.
Tuttle took Will’s hand, and she expected a hand shake but to her complete dismay; Tuttle raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back gently.
“Such good officers.”
Smile, men like smiles.
Tuttle walks off and as soon as he’s gone, a disgusted look over Will's features.
She rubbed the back of her hand on her shirt and she turned to her partners.
“Are you kidding me?” Marty mutters while Rust lets out an “un- fuckin’- believable.”
“Gross” Will whispers as Marty puts a hand on her shoulder.
“‘Anti-Christian’” Rust mutters “for fucks sake- and who’s Eddie?!”
The rest of the office stared at Rust as if he had grown two heads.
“Is he serious-?”
“Who’s Eddie!?”
“He’s from Texas-,”
“He’s the governor, Rust” Will says “him and the reverend are first cousins, makes a lotta sense doesn't it?”
Rust hummed an agreement “they’re just hens, stupid birds” Rust says around a cigarette as he lights it.
“Yeah and they’ll peck your eyes if you’re not careful” Marty warns, before ushering them both to the door.
Before they could leave a woman, about Will’s age, steps through and suddenly Marty is occupied.
Speaking of hens.
Rust and Will couldn’t help but share a look.
The duo didn’t bother staying to see Marty flirt with a knock off Maggie and left quickly.
Marty either thought they were stupid or he’s just incredibly dumb, Will doesn’t care either way.
____
Will walked out of the station with her phone pressed to her ear.
“And how was it?”
“Nauseating.”
“It couldn’t have been too bad.”
“They asked me about the hospital, they’re looking into me not just asking for a consult.”
“Well, we both know you’re innocent, my love.”
“Maybe so, Hannibal but I don't like these detectives and you wouldn’t either but I’d love to have them over for dinner.”
“Not a bad idea, sweet Willow.”