Disclaimer -- In the words of Jack Sparrow "Borrowed, borrowed without permission but with every intention of bringing it back,"
A/N – Okay, I have been thinking about this for a while now. I figure it would be nice to have things that are mentioned in "Jail House Letters". This will mostly be about Dennis and Doug. Which will lead eventually to Doug/Dennis and Doug/Dennis/Tom. I hope you all like this.
Parallel Parking
If you want a rainbow, you have to put up with the rain – anonymous.
--
Doug walked down the court house steps in a daze. The day was cheery and bright, not what he felt like on the inside. The late spring breeze made the aroma of roses and violets from the near by park make him sneeze for a moment. Right now, he wished for rain. Lots of rain and lightning to match the dark mood he was in right now.
Guilty, Guilty, Guilty, Guilty, Guilty…the words echoed in his pounding head like the laughter of a grinder. Why? why was it that these sorts of things tended to happen to them? Why couldn't the real killer come forward and take the blame? Well, in a perfect world…but, this wasn't a perfect world, was it?
Sighing, Doug continued on down the street. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to think, he didn't want to do anything. Tomorrow he and Mrs. Debra(1) would clean out Hanson's apartment. She all ready had the storage unit. Doug felt it would be weird going through Tom's things. He had spent a night couch surfing at Tom's place. But that was about it, he didn't go through other peoples stuff without a search warrant.
Doug stopped for a moment and found himself in front of a coffee shop. He also found Dennis Booker sitting at a table in the far back and almost out of site. Doug entered and ordered two cups of black coffee. When the server got him his order and he paid, he joined Dennis at the table.
"Hey," he said, giving the man a cup.
"Hey…I didn't think you were a black coffee drinker," Denis said.
"It's the best way to drink it," Doug replied.
"You know…I didn't think Tom ever did it. I know that missing bullet is the key," Dennis said.
"I know," Doug watched the reflection of the light in the black substance.
"I don't understand, why not give him a chance? Why not go over the scene again?" Dennis asked, but mostly himself.
Doug answered anyway; "Maybe they figured they did their job,"
"IAF doesn't see it that way. I still have contacts there, they think the CSI guy's thought Hanson did it anyway. So they didn't bother going back. Trust me, IAF would know if CSI went back," Dennis explained.
"So, they've practically condemned Hanson to life in prison," Doug muttered.
"Unless we prove they did something with the evidence to make the trial go in their direction. If we can prove conspiracy…"
"Then, they'd have to let Hanson get a new trial…or at least let him out pending an official inquiry," Doug finished. Dennis gave him a wry smile.
"What are our chances of that happening?" Dennis shrugged as he finished his coffee. Doug sighed and sipped at his.
"I don't want my best friend suffering through shit in Sing-Sing(2)," Doug said.
"I know, and Juvi isn't the same as prison full of adults – there isn't a governing system to protect him," Dennis pointed out.
"I know, I can just hope that Tom's left hook is just as good as that time he got me," Doug said.
"When was that?" Dennis asked.
"We went undercover in this military school…"
Doug glared at Dennis who was snickering a bit at that picture; "Anyway," Doug rolled his eyes, "I went under as a delinquent, Tom went in with a title – anyway, we were at this sudo-wrestling class, I took down a guy and when the Coach asked who else wanted to go up against me. Tom stepped up to the plate and when I thought it would be a nice and easy take down, Tom just sucker punched me in the face,"
"Oh man! I wish I had a picture of that!" Dennis crowed.
"Yeah, it was the only time he punched me without me making him angry enough to do it. He did it for the case, and Tommy never does anything unless it'll serve the case," Doug shrugged.
"Really? Sounds like he plans these things out," Dennis said.
"Sometimes,"
"Well, maybe we should take a page out of his book," Dennis muttered.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I won't rest till I know who the real murderer is, or prove that the evidence was tampered with,"
"All right!"
--
Internal Affairs Office, Downtown
6:30 (day 1 of unofficial investigation)
Benjamin Thymes quirked an eyebrow at his friend. Dennis Booker usually never pulled rank unless he had too. So, Ben was happy to do what Dennis needed.
"Okay, but you can't let the Cap'n know, technically, the case is closed," Ben replied. Dennis and Ben had the place to themselves. The work day usually ended at five for the IAF people. Ben was different though, he liked getting an early start on paper work.
"I know, but – the CIS guy's never went back when they said they did,"
"I know," Ben said and turned back to his papers. He rooted around for a moment or two before coming up with a file.
"Let's see, three shots inside the house, multiple outside…the gun that killed the victim was apparently lost. Two sets of finger prints were found. One of the gang kid and Hanson's, of course. But, one of the three bullets in the house didn't come from the Victim's gun nor Hanson's police issued pistol," Ben said.
"Okay, so that third bullet would prove that someone else was there," Dennis said.
"Well, that's not the only piece of evidence that we don't have,"
"What…?"
"The body of our Vic sustained several rounds that ultimately killed him. These bullets were removed, but, the wounds are insufficient evidence against you're friend. The bullets weren't in the evidence box when I got a look. That was earlier on. I think that whoever has the third bullet from the house also has the bullets from the body," Ben said.
"Okay…okay…now, All I need is a list of the CSI team that took that crime scene," Booker said.
"It's in the file, since its closed, I won't need this for a while," Ben said. Dennis grinned.
"I owe you for this,"
"I'll put it on your tab," Ben replied.
--
Doug came to a halt; removing the head phones the music of his walk man became faint. He sighed and stretched in front of the stairs to his apartment complex. After his talk with Dennis he felt a bit better. But only a little, it was such a long shot of them finding the evidence to clear Tommy. Whoa…when did I ever start calling him that in my head…? Doug shook his head. He needed a nice long shower to think everything out.
When Doug hit the button on his answering machine, he was happily surprised by the tones of Dennis Booker filling the emptiness: "Hey, found some thing, call me at…" Doug grabbed the phone and re-dialed the number. He waited for a few moments, asked what was up and agreed to meet Dennis at the pub down the street.
"There goes the long shower," but Doug couldn't find it within himself to be upset.
--
Dennis had a mug of beer ready for Doug when he arrived. He marveled at the man a bit. With his muscles and eyes. Dennis had to remind himself to not act like a high school kid when Doug sat down. He wore torn jeans, a white wife beater and a blue plaid shirt that was open and showed his dog-tags.
"Glad you could meet me, take a look at this," Dennis said. He handed Doug the file he had gotten from Ben.
"Yeah…you're friend is good, he has a list," Doug said.
"Ben knows how to do the job better than me," Dennis said.
"That might be the first time I heard you be humble about anything," Doug said.
"It will be the only time," Dennis warned.
"I know," Doug grinned.
--
Debra Hanson was probably the Mother that Doug had always wished he had. She was more of the home maker type though. She smiled at Doug when she answered the door to Tom's apartment.
"Hi, Doug!" she said and hugged him briefly.
"I've been putting things into boxes, so all you have to do is bring them down to the truck," she grinned. Doug grinned back, he wouldn't have to go through Tom's things.
--
When Doug got home that night. He was sore and tired all over, however, this lethargic sensation disappeared for a few moments when he found a letter from Tom in the pile of bills.
--
A/N – Tell me what you think. This is a parallel story to "Jail House Letters".