Love You More - Lisa Gardner [150]
HOLDER
(overlapping)
Ahh, this is a bad door. Sorry, what … what are you doing here—
SARAH
(overlapping)
A who … Can I help you—?
HOLDER
Yeah, this is my office—
SARAH
Who are you—?
HOLDER
I’m Holder, from County. You Linden?
REGI (O.S.)
(from phone)
Sar? You there …?
SARAH
(into phone)
Yeah, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight, Regi.
Sarah hangs up, takes him in: cardboard BOX in his arms. Fish out of water in his Fubu and baggy jeans. Amused—
SARAH (CONT’D)
Yeah. I’m Linden.
HOLDER
I thought you’d be outta here by now. But if you need more time, I can wait outside.
SARAH
No, it’s okay. No, no, come on in. I’m almost done.
Not much room to navigate. He drops his box on the desk, knocking over her box, spilling files everywhere.
HOLDER
Damn it—
SARAH
It’s okay, I got it.
Holder tries to help, making more of a mess.
HOLDER
My bad, my bad.
Hold picks up the box, she takes it.
HOLDER (CONT’D)
Here.
He moves to the other side of the desk. Starts unpacking his own box.
HOLDER (CONT’D)
So, I hear you’re moving to LA.
SARAH
San Francisco area.
HOLDER
Oakland?
SARAH
Sonoma.
HOLDER
Sonoma. It’s nice.
SARAH
Yup.
Beat. She continues to clean up, not interested in engaging.
HOLDER
Nice weather. Ocean. The beaches … Hate that shit.
Holder shoots a ball into a hoop/trash can. Sarah smiles grudgingly.
SARAH
You must love this place then.
HOLDER
Ouch.
He’s glancing at one of Sarah’s files. CLOSE ON gruesome crime scene PHOTO of an ADDICT — white, trashy, fatty (think Courtney Love) — cut ear to ear. Beneath, a SKETCH: a lonely grove of trees on the sand. Beautiful.
HOLDER (CONT’D)
Crack head thought she was Picasso?
SARAH
Crack head’s six year old son drew it.
HOLDER
He get iced, too?
SARAH
No.
Sarah takes the sketch. Puts it away. Holder waits for more. None coming. Fort Knox this woman.
HOLDER
So what happened to the kid—?
LT. OAKES — 50s, soft touch for Sarah — enters.
OAKES
Don’t waste your time moving in, do ya?
HOLDER
No. County cut me loose early. So, I …
OAKES
Well, you got a tough act to follow. You wrapped up here, Sarah?
SARAH
Yup. All done.
Oakes hands her a PAPER.
OAKES
Good. Got a call down at Discovery Park. Check it out.
SARAH
On my last day? My flights tonight—
OAKES
You’re still on the city’s dime.
(off her look)
You can hand it off end of shift. Six o’clock. Go on do your job. Take him. Show him how to work a scene.
HOLDER
(quietly)
I know how to work a scene …
Reluctantly, Sarah grabs her coat and a box—
SARAH
Grab a box. We’ll take my car.
HOLDER
Alright.
SARAH
(indicating a nearby box)
Over there.
As Sarah and Holder exit, boxes in tow, Holder shuts the door with his foot.
EXT. DOWNTOWN SEATTLE - AERIAL SHOT - DAY
Transition.
INT/EXT. SARAH’S CAR - DAY
Sarah drives, Holder yaks. Wipers flipping across the rain-soaked windshield. Squat factories — abandoned, graffii-marred — slide past their windows.
HOLDER
… They tapped me out of the Academy like first year, boom straight to
(MORE)
HOLDER (CONT’D)
undercover. So I was working vice, narco. I don’t know, I guess narco kinda stuck to me, so …
SARAH
(no shit)
You? A UC? I never woulda guessed.
Holder shoots her an amused look.
HOLDER
Whatever. It’s mostly like street level buys and busts, you know, Joaquim shooting Rakim, blah blah blah.
SARAH
You think Homicide’s gonna be any different?
HOLDER
Least you got a bad guy.
SARAH
Yeah? Who’s that?
Holder looks at her, waiting for more. No luck. They stop at a light.
On the sidewalk, a TEEN RUNAWAY — 16, male, filthy dreads, kindly face — slouches numbly against a monstrous duffel