Tis the Season by Henabrey

See Chapter One for disclaimers and stuff.

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Chapter Eight: O Come All Ye Faithful

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Central Park was in the opposite direction to where they'd left their car, but by unspoken agreement Lilly and Scotty headed for the wide open space that formed the heart of the city rather than back to their parking space. Neither of them felt capable of higher thought at that particular moment, let alone able to tackle the traffic that awaited them between here and Philadelphia, and they wandered the footpaths of the park, searching for they weren't sure what, staying a safe distance from each other and avoiding eye contact. It was lunch time; the park was full of people who walked briskly to their destinations with heads tucked down into scarves and coats and kept their hands jammed into their pockets. A few hardy souls braved the slippery surfaces to run off their winter fat and there were a few homeless setting up a lunchtime home on park benches. A labrador, let off her leash by her jogging owner, gambolled in the built up snow that had settled on the lawns and sent it flying in all directions.

Lilly watched the snow fly and felt a curious kinship with it. That's what she felt like at the moment - scattered in a million different directions. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She couldn't believe she had just kissed her partner, and in an elevator of all places. She couldn't believe how badly she wanted to do it again.

Crazy, that's what she was. The strain of being ambushed by mistletoe five times in two days had got too much and her mind had snapped. Yes. That was it. All she needed to do was avoid looking at Scotty for the next two or three weeks and she'd get it out of her system. Hopefully. Because there was no way that could happen a second time, and there was no way anything else could happen, either. Not with her partner.

But, my God, what a kiss.

After ten minutes of silent, aimless wandering, they came across a coffee cart stationed at a crossroads well frequented by park visitors. Scotty paid for two steaming cups with fingers barely able to fish the right money out of his pocket. Truth was, he thought he was in shock. That kiss. That kiss, dear God. He'd wondered, hadn't he, and thought and daydreamed about kissing his partner for four years and never once in his wildest imaginings had he dreamed it could have been so...incredible. That was the word for it. Not even his first kiss with Elisa had felt so unbelievably, stunningly, beautifully powerful. He'd felt like fireworks had exploded in his head. It was all he could do now not to close the distance between them and wrap himself in the taste of her again.

He knew better. He wasn't thinking clearly, but he could see how disturbed she was by what had just happened. He'd spent the last two days watching her reaction to the mistletoe that kept jumping out at them, and while he was fairly sure she hadn't seemed to mind the idea of kissing him (oh, she hadn't seemed to mind it at all back there in the elevator) he was even more sure she'd never actually considered doing it. Which made the fact that it had happened even more shocking, and while it might be tempting to think the kiss might signal the start of something deliciously new between them, he thought it would be a good bet that she was more likely to back away from the prospect like it was an angrily hissing rattlesnake.

They instinctively found their way to a quieter footpath, away from the main thoroughfares through the park and less crowded with people. Scotty gestured at a park bench overlooking a wide expanse of snow covered lawn, and they sat side by side in silence. And older couple, nearly as wide as they were tall, strolled past hand in hand followed by a small grandchild riding a scooter. There were excited yells in the distance, where it sounded like a herd of buffalos was having a snowball fight. A jogger ran past, so wrapped up in adjusting their iPod they nearly ran into a lamp post.

Still, they sat in silence. Scotty wasn't sure what to say or how to begin, and he guessed Lilly might be having the same problem. Holy shit might convey his feelings fairly adequately, he thought, although there was probably a nicer way of putting it. That kiss was so goddamned good I can't even think straight, maybe, and I desperately want to do it again. Probably wouldn't go down so well, if he knew Lilly as well as he thought he did, and so he kept quiet. Eventually, after sitting and staring into space for what felt like decades, they both started talking at once.

"Well, that was -"

"It was quite -"

"Yes, exactly."

There was silence again for a few minutes, while they watched a beagle follow an invisible scent in a zig zag pattern over the ground in front of them. There was a light, chill wind and Scotty could feel the cold digging its icy fingers into his bones despite his coat and the coffee he was drinking. They were going to have to move soon if they wanted to avoid freezing to death, even if they hadn't finished their conversation. Lilly was the first to speak again, in a small, half-reluctant voice.

"It probably shouldn't happen again, Scotty."

Damn, should have put money on it. "No."

"This sort of thing, it leads to...complications."

"Yeah."

Scotty could feel her eyes steal their way over to him. "Do you mind?"

He glanced over at her, not sure what to say. Yes, he minded. That was the best goddamned kiss he'd ever been involved in and he wanted nothing more than to find out if it a second kiss could be as good as the first. And maybe sleeping with someone you worked with led to complications, but he didn't care about that - he'd welcome the mother of all complications if it meant he could be with Lilly. But there were other things to think about; things like Lilly herself. She'd obviously decided, just as he'd known she would, that nothing else could happen between them, and while with someone else he might have been tempted to try and push them into changing their minds, he knew Lilly was a little like a skittish horse. Push too far or too hard and she'd bolt, and he could forget about his friendship with her if that happened. He might want to be more than partners with her, but wasn't willing to risk their friendship in order to convince her it was right to take things further. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he could feel his courage slipping away like water, and he couldn't bring himself to do anything but agree with her.

"No, I don't mind. I mean, it was one hell of a...but like you said, it just complicates things, bein' with someone you work with."

"Right."

"And we work well together, and we're friends, and that means a lot to me, and it would be stupid doin' anythin' to jeopardise that."

"Yeah."

Silence again, save for an ambulance wailing plaintively somewhere in the direction of downtown and an excited yodel from the sniffing beagle, who'd spotted a squirrel. Scotty got to his feet, too cold to sit still any longer, and waited while Lilly joined him.

"Friends?" he asked, offering a hand.

She looked at him, grateful, and smiled. "Friends." She took the hand he offered and they shook, slowly and cautiously, feeling the heat from each other's fingers through their gloves. They shook once, twice, and then let go of each other like they'd been holding hot coals. Lilly's hand went back her coffee cup, Scotty's to his coat pocket. There was no more than a foot of space between them, yet suddenly it felt like a canyon.

Scotty smiled to himself. Friends, maybe, but not back to the way they had been before. Was it worth it, lying to her about what he wanted there to be between them, if they were barely able to look each other in the face? Yes, he thought. Give it time. Put some space between themselves and what had happened earlier, and things would become more comfortable. Let her rationalise it to nothing more than a moment of madness and let him forget that when her lips touched his he'd felt like he could kiss her for the rest of his life. Then they'd just be friends again, and that was what everyone wanted, right?

Valens, you chickenshit.

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It was a long, silent drive back to Philadelphia. They'd missed lunch, but even the half cup of coffee she'd drunk sat uncomfortably in Lilly's stomach and at every curve of the road she negotiated the coffee seemed to somersault like it was doing a gymnastics impression. It wasn't just the coffee that was making her sick, of course: it was Scotty. More specifically, what she'd just done with Scotty. Even more specifically, it was the fact she'd just kissed Scotty and badly wanted to do it again and maybe even more than kissing and even though she'd just convinced herself that it was a bad idea pursuing a relationship with him and she'd got him to agree with her she couldn't help feeling she was making a mistake. That, she thought, would put anyone's stomach in knots.

Vera was waiting in the bullpen for them when they eventually reached headquarters. Scotty had phoned ahead and asked him to bring Jeremy in for questioning, wanting the young man away from the comfort of his office building and the support of his co-workers. He was waiting in Interview Room A, watched over by Kat and Jefferies.

"You found out who the Grinch is, yet?" Vera asked as soon as Scotty walked in the door to Homicide.

"Maybe," Lilly said, and filled him in on what they'd discovered in New York.

"So Reeve goes to offer Santa a bribe one night, gets turned down, and the next night Santa ends up dead? Big coincidence."

"That's what we thought. Where are you on Reeve's alibi?"

"Nowhere. Wife's sticking with her story and so's the neighbour. We're talking to the neighbour's friends who were with him that night and checking with everyone who works in Wilson & Reeve's office building in case they saw anything, and rechecking Reeve's other neighbours. So far nothing. If he's your guy, he was either in two places at once or he's good at getting people to lie for him."

"He's our guy," Lilly said.

"Jeremy Morville here yet?" Scotty asked.

"In A. Jefferies and Miller are babysitting him. He's not too happy to be here. Says you're just trying to use him to bring down Reeve."

"He'd be right, then," Lilly said.

Interview Room A had been built intentionally small, dark, and oppressive. It was designed to unsettle a suspect and keep them out of their comfort zone right from the outset of an interview, the thinking being that a rattled person was less likely to be able to keep their story straight. Most of the time, it worked, and Jeremy Morville was no exception. The young man had lost any air of confidence or easy going nature he'd possessed back at the office building, and Lilly and Scotty were instead confronted with someone who resembled a boy who'd been busted for breaking his mother's favourite vase. He appeared nervous, confused, and, just under the surface, a little defiant.

"Mr Morville," said Lilly, sitting down at the desk opposite to the young man and opening Nicholas' file to the crime scene photos. Jeremy's gaze flicked unwillingly in its direction and widened slightly at the upside down view of death. "Thankyou for coming in."

"Detective Vera didn't give me much choice in the matter," Jeremy said in a petulant tone.

"We just have a few questions," Scotty said, taking up his position against the wall to one side of the table.

"About the night that homeless guy got killed," Jeremy said. "Yeah, I know. You want me to tell you Mr Reeve did it."

"Did he?"

"No. He didn't. I was with him until nine and he has an alibi after that. He couldn't have done it."

"Actually, we have some questions about the night of December twentieth, two nights before the murder," Lilly said. There was a flicker of surprise in the young man's eyes.

"We've been speakin' to Helen Wilson," Scotty said.

"Told us all about your little conversation. You went to talk to Santa that night."

Jeremy said nothing.

"See, we were confused," Lilly said. "Here we were thinking this thing with Santa was just between Wilson and Reeve, and now we find out you were involved all along."

"You wanna tell us about it?" Scotty asked, arms folded.

Jeremy was still silent.

"Come on, Jeremy. We know you went to talk to the man that night. You may as well just tell us what you talked about. Did you threaten him?"

"No."

"Well?"

There was a pause, while Jeremy looked at the scuffed surface of the desk and kept his eyes firmly off the crime scene photos still on view. "It was a very civil conversation..."

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He hadn't talked to Santa Claus himself, but he'd seen Mr Wilson deep in conversation with the man several times over the last three weeks. Now, leaving the diner and Mrs Wilson behind and heading out into the cold night air, he knew exactly where to find him. It was early enough in the evening for Santa to still be standing on his street corner, spreading his message to all who stopped to listen.

Jeremy was disturbed. He'd heard rumblings of discontent from Mr Wilson the last two weeks or so, and once he'd overheard him arguing with Mr Reeve, but he'd had no idea the black sliver of unhappiness had wormed its way into the soul of the firm as far as it had. Mr Wilson wanted to leave the firm? It was unimaginable. Could the firm even survive if he left? Jeremy didn't think so - and while he might get a job at another firm easily enough the prospect didn't appeal. Wilson & Reeve was his home, and he loved every aspect of it, from the fine mahogany desks to the smallest filing cabinet in his office with the dent on one side. The idea of leaving that and going somewhere new and strange...no, he just had to convince this Santa guy to back off and leave things the way they were.

The familiar red and white form was standing on his usual corner, talking to two homeless people who were well bundled up in what looked like seven ragged coats between them and were nodding enthusiastically at Santa's words. As Jeremy approached the group they broke apart - Nicholas' face had told the others that something was up. They melted away into the darkness and became nothing but retreating shadows as Jeremy stood in front of the man who was causing his boss so much trouble.

"Jeremy Morville," Santa said. His accent was thick, European, but not difficult to understand. Close up, Jeremy noticed that unlike many of the homeless people he saw wandering the streets, Nicholas neither looked nor smelled unwashed. Even the Santa suit, which he seemed to wear all the time, looked fresh and clean. Jeremy wondered how he managed it - did he have a homeless shelter nearby that he frequented?

"How - how did you know my name?" he asked, startled.

"I know who you are," the other man smiled.

Jeremy struggled to regain his confidence. "Perhaps you know why I'm here, then," he said, trying to sound aggressive.

Nicholas smiled, a little sadly. "You are here to tell me to stay away from your employer, Mr Wilson."

"Yes," Jeremy said. "How did you -"

"An easy guess," Nicholas said, still smiling that sad smile. He looked to Jeremy at that moment as though he had seen all the sorrows of the world and they weighed on his shoulders like a ton of bricks. "You have aligned yourself with your other employer, Mr Reeve."

"Because you're trying to -"

"But it is not too late for you. You still have time to choose."

"What to do you -"

"Jeremy," Nicholas said, laying a hand on Jeremy's shoulder. "I have done some good here. I have changed some people's minds and the ways in which they look at the world. I do not think I can change your mind. Only you will be able to do that."

"Change my mind about what?"

"You have two employers, Jeremy," Santa said. "You do not have to remain on Mr Reeve's side of affairs."

"I'm on the side of the firm, Mr...whatever your name is. I'm loyal to to the firm of Wilson & Reeve. And you coming in here and corrupting the mind of -"

"I corrupt the mind of no one, Jeremy, and I am not going to argue with you. I am merely going to tell you that when the time comes, you will still be able to make a choice."

Jeremy stared at him, perplexed. This was not exactly going according to plan. He'd expected an argument, and threats, and general unpleasantness, but instead he got this quiet, sad earnestness and a strange plea to keep his loyalties unfixed. Well, it wasn't working. "Are you going to stay away from Mr Wilson?"

"Jeremy, I shall do what I have to do." He smiled again. "And I think that you shall do the same. I will see you again."

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"I left just after that," Jeremy said.

"Did he?" asked Lilly. "See you again?"

"No," he said, after a slight hesitation.

"That was your 'openin' gambit' as you called it," Scotty said. "You didn't go back for another round?"

"He was dead two nights later, Detective Valens. There was no time."

"You didn't see him with Bill Reeve?"

"No."

"But you talked with Reeve about him, didn't you?" Lilly asked. "You knew Bill was going to offer Nicholas money to stay away."

"Yes. I talked with Mr Reeve about the...problem...the next day. Mr Reeve went to see Santa that night. Ten thousand dollars he offered him." He laughed softly. "Must have seemed like winning the lottery."

"But Nicholas turned it down, didn't he?" Lilly asked. "That must have pissed Reeve off."

Jeremy shrugged.

"Did you talk to him about it afterwards?"

"Yeah," Jeremy said reluctantly. "He was...angry."

"I'd be angry too, Jeremy," Lilly said. "Guy like Reeve, he's used to getting his own way, ordering people about. And this homeless guy without a penny in the world turns down ten thousand of his dollars? Enough to make anyone mad."

"I guess."

"How about the night of the murder?" Scotty asked. "Bill go back to see Santa? Offer a little more cash? Or somethin' else?"

"No, he didn't. And he has an alibi, so I don't know why you keep -"

"Because we don't believe the alibi, Jeremy," Lilly said. "It's all just a little convenient."

"That doesn't make it untrue."

"Tell us about the night of the murder," Scotty said from his standing position against the wall. "You were with Reeve until nine?"

"Yes. I left just before he did."

Lilly leaned forward. "You left just before he did? How do you know what time he left, then?"

Jeremy's eyes flicked between Lilly, Scotty and the crime scene photos. "Because I caught the bus home. I was still waiting at my stop when I saw his car go past."

"That's...convenient."

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Beyond the two way mirror a small collection of detectives gathered around the glass, watching the interview taking place. Kat was seated at the desk, nursing a mug of coffee, and Vera, Jefferies and Stillman were ringed around her, all intent on Jeremy Morville. They all held mugs of their own, coffee slowly going cold.

"What d'you think?" Vera asked.

"I think he knows more about Bill Reeve than he's letting on," Stillman said, and the others nodded agreement.

"Reeve is the doer? Definitely?" Kat asked.

"Lil and Scotty think so," Jefferies said. "And he looks good for it. He's got the strongest motive."

"And the dodgiest alibi," Vera added.

"Which we can't break," Kat pointed out.

Jefferies shrugged. "If he's the guy, there's a crack in his story. We'll find it."

"So Morville is covering for his employer," Stillman said. "And they say good help is hard to find."

"You're wondering why you can't get staff like that, aren't you, boss?"

Stillman chuckled. "Lil said Morville seemed to have a case of hero worship when it came to Reeve. That would explain why he's so eager to get himself into trouble for him."

"And Scotty told me he's got a thing for Reeve's niece, the receptionist," Kat said. "Maybe he's trying to impress her with his loyalty."

"Speaking of Scotty and Lil, what's up with them?" Vera asked. "They've been acting weird ever since this case began."

"Weird how?"

"Like there's this invisible barrier between them that means they have to stay two feet apart at all times, yet they keep lookin' at each other like they're...I dunno...they're acting weird is all."

"It's the mistletoe," Kat said. "Benson told me he caught them standing underneath that bunch that's in the break room."

"I caught them there this morning," Stillman said, suddenly looking interested. "Scotty said it wasn't the first time it had happened."

They all shared smiles. "Hey," said Vera, suddenly thinking of something. "They've been even weirder since they got back from New York. They can barely look at each other, and when Scotty passed her Santa's file earlier their hands touched. Lil jumped like she'd been burned. You don't think anything...?"

"Nick, this is Lil we're talking about," Jefferies said.

"Yeah, you're right."

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They let Jeremy go after an hour. He stuck to his story, maintaining Bill Reeve's innocence and in the end accusing them of harassment and refusing to speak to them without his lawyer present. Lilly, by then fed up with what seemed like stupidly blind loyalty, told him to leave.

She and Scotty stood in the doorway of the interview room, watching him wait for the elevator. His shoulders were slumped, betraying his exhaustion, and he entered the lift without turning back to look at the detectives staring at him. He'd lost his nervous demeanour in the face of their questioning, but he'd still maintained the puzzled air of a man who'd got off at the wrong bus stop and didn't quite know where he was. Why are you pestering me? his face seemed to ask. I haven't done anything. It had no doubt worked well in high school but here in Homicide it had little effect.

"He knows somethin'," Scotty said as the elevator doors slid shut.

"Yes, he does," Lilly said.

"And we let him walk out the door."

There seemed little to do but go back out onto the streets and re-interview anyone they thought might have been able to shed light on what had happened that night. Lilly found herself partnered with Kat as Scotty had manoeuvred his way in with Vera and Jefferies who had gone to Reeve's neighbourhood to continue their interviews. Lilly couldn't help but miss Scotty's presence - but perhaps it was best they spent some time apart. She was still rattled by what had happened back in New York and the entire time she'd been in the interview room one part of her mind had been back in that elevator in the Carlyle, and she was all too conscious of Scotty's form against the wall, near enough to her that she could smell him. One part of her mind had been dizzy with his closeness.

So in the interest of solving this case perhaps it would be best if she avoided him long enough to get over this weakness of hers. If she could just stay far enough away that her body wouldn't call out for him and her breath grow short every time he looked her way, things might be able to get back to normal. She wondered if he was maybe having the same problem, and that was why he'd gone off with the others rather than stay with her. She hadn't been blind the last two days - the last four years, a little voice inside her said - she knew he'd been interested, sending little looks her way, touching her, that moment in the alleyway; it had all added up to an obvious attraction. But maybe he had the same reasons as she did for not wanting it to lead anywhere. Maybe he'd been as shocked by the power of their kiss as she had been and wanted a little distance between them to let the dust settle.

Whatever, she told herself firmly. Whatever. She had a case to solve, and she just couldn't afford to spend the time thinking about her partner when she should be thinking of ways to break Bill Reeve's alibi.

Well, she could try not thinking about Scotty, anyway.

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That night passed much as the previous one had; tossing and turning, plagued by dreams of mistletoe and Scotty. Lilly found herself back in the elevator in the Carlyle, pressed up against her partner as close as she could get while their kiss deepened and his hands roamed her body. They were going further than they had in real life; in her dream, Scotty pushed her up against the wall of the elevator and she wrapped herself around him, pulling his coat and jacket off his shoulders and feeling her shirt join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. And then one of his hands was on her breast, thumbing her nipple through the fabric of her bra while his other hand was sliding the zip of her pants open and God, she was aching for him...

And she was awake. Heart pounding and sheets soaked in sweat, furious and aroused all at the same time. Rolling over and adjusting her pillow, she sighed. There was no way she was going to be able to go back to sleep after that.

Still, she managed to be late for work despite the early start she'd gotten and arrived in a flurry ten minutes after her normal starting time to find Vera, Jefferies and Kat sitting at their desks, doing paperwork. Vera tapped his watch and got a glare in return.

"Anything new?" Lilly asked, unwinding her scarf. She couldn't help glancing around for Scotty, finally seeing him in the break room, talking on the phone while stirring cream into a cup of coffee. Her stomach lurched. Goddamn it, did he just get better looking every day?

"Nup," Vera said. "I'm starting to think that maybe Reeve's alibi is holding because it's actually true."

"Kat and I are going over local businesses, seeing if anyone has security footage from two years ago that might show anything useful," Jefferies said. "But it's a long shot."

"Worth trying," Lilly said. "There's got to be something."

Scotty was suddenly at her elbow, looking awkward. "Hey."

"Hey."

There was a pause, neither one of them quite looking the other in the face. Scotty looked tired, Lilly noticed when she risked a glance at him. Had he been having the same problems with dreams that she had?

"So," he said finally, clearing his throat. "I just got a call from Anna Taylor down at the shelter, and she says she wants to see us."

"Did she say why?"

"Said she had some information."

"Okay," Lilly said. She was wondering if there was a way to get Miller to go with him instead - she just didn't fancy going anywhere alone with him right now. Not that she didn't trust him - he'd agreed that it was wrong to pursue a relationship and he was a grown man who could keep his hands to himself.

No, it was herself she didn't trust.

She was about to suggest Scotty take Kat while she join Jefferies canvassing the local office buildings for security footage, but she took a quick look at Vera's face and changed her mind. He was watching her and Scotty with a quizzical look on his face, and she realised that their awkwardness must have been apparent to more than just the two of them. To a seasoned homicide detective like Vera, it must have been obvious that there was something straining their friendship. And if Benson or Stillman had mentioned the mistletoe...no, mustn't give Vera any reason for any further suspicion.

"Let's go," she said.

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"This is Kevin Morgan," Anna said a little while later when they arrived at Freddie's and were led by Rosa to the dining area. Anna was sitting at one of the scuffed tables with a man in his fifties, who may have been homeless but was nevertheless dressed impeccably in a green velvet tuxedo, a black woollen coat, only slightly scruffy, a purple scarf and a brown fur hat. He was sitting bolt upright in his plastic chair, with a proud and noble air. His ebony face was split by a blinding white grin.

"Pleased to meet you," he said in a soft, patrician voice. The detectives nodded.

"Kevin just got back to Philadelphia this morning," Anna said. "He's been travelling."

"I went all the way to California," Kevin said. "Have you ever travelled across the country by road, detectives? It has some most beautiful sights. I saw the Grand Canyon, you know."

"That's great," Lilly said, exchanging a glance with Scotty. Had they been brought here to listen to a travelogue?

"It was my friend Nicholas who inspired me to go, you know."

"So you knew Nicholas?"

"Exactly so. Not well, but I believe everyone could say that about him. But I called him a friend."

"And...it was because of Nicholas that you went to California?" Lilly asked. She felt Scotty shift impatiently beside her.

"I was born here in Philadelphia, you know," Kevin said. "And all my life I wanted to travel and see the world, but I could never bring myself to leave the city. I was afraid, I think. It takes courage and spirit, to go to places you haven't been before, to journey to the unfamiliar and explore the unexplored. Wanting to see these things doesn't make it any easier to take that first step into the unknown, where you are without a safety net and away from everything that made you safe. I always thought, what if I go and I don't like it? Or it doesn't like me? Kept me with my feet glued to the Philadelphia sidewalks all my life."

"Sure," said Lilly, thinking of her own life - not that she'd ever had trouble travelling, but being afraid of making journeys of the emotional kind she was all too familiar with. Wasn't she doing that very thing now, pushing away the prospect of a relationship with Scotty?

"My friend, Nicholas, he told me...'Kevin,' he said, 'life is very short, much too short for needless fear. You must not be afraid to reach out for what you want. It doesn't matter what other people may say to you, it doesn't matter if you fail utterly and completely. What matters is that you try. If you don't try, all you are left with is a wish that things had been different. And by then it will be too late.' That's what he told me."

"Better to have travelled and lost, than never to have travelled at all, you mean," Scotty said with a smile.

"Exactly so," Kevin said. "I was inspired. I left the city - it was two days after his murder - and I hitched all the way to Washington, DC. From there I went south, hitching, picking up work where I could get it. It's taken me two years, but I've been to thirty seven states."

"That's wonderful," Lilly said. "Do you mind my asking...?"

"What this has to do with your case?" Kevin asked. "Not at all. I got back to Philadelphia this morning and of course I had to call in and see my good friends Anna, Freddie and Rosa, who were all so good to me before I left."

Anna smiled proudly. "He sent us postcards sometimes."

"I did. Anyway, they told me that you fine people were investigating Nicholas' death, and asking questions about the lawyer, Mr Reeve."

Scotty and Lilly both sprang to attention. "You know somethin' about Reeve?"

"I saw Angie Dickson, also, and she told me what she told you. And then I saw that young Carmel from the grocery store, and she told me what you have been told already, about Mr Reeve and Mr Wilson's wife. And that brought to mind something I'd seen, the night of the murder..."

----------

He was getting out of the city. He knew it deep down in his bones, had made up his mind even before Nicholas had stopped talking the very first time he'd met him. He'd been poised at the start of a tightrope his whole life and he felt he'd finally been pushed into stepping off into thin air. Tomorrow, the next day, he was going to stick out his thumb on the side of the on-ramp and start the adventure of his life. South, probably, to begin with. And then...well, he'd always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.

He was standing near Nicholas this cold December night, a little way further down the street and half hidden in shadows, watching Nicholas at work. The man was sheer brilliance, the way his cheerful demeanour never shifted, always with a friendly word and a message of hope for those who walked past. Kevin didn't know how he did it, day after day and night after night. Kevin himself was a flawlessly polite man - his mother had raised him right - but even he looked like an amateur next to the man in the Santa suit.

A little way down the street, walking this way, was an angry young man. Kevin had seen him several times hanging around the grocery store next to Freddie's and had an idea he had a thing going with young Carmel who worked there. He was probably the one responsible for the bruises she tried so hard to hide. Jerry, his name was. Tonight, Jerry was a man on a mission. His face was clouded like the sky before a thunderstorm and he seemed to draw the night around him like a cloak. His dark hair, eyes and coat combined with the murderous look on his face gave the impression of a demon released from the underworld to wreak death and destruction on the innocent civilians of earth.

As he approached, Kevin could hear him muttering under his breath in a continuous stream of hate-filled obscenities and threats. From what he could gather, Jerry was upset about a restraining order. Perhaps young Carmel from the grocery store had managed to break things off between them - in which case, Kevin thought, she had hopefully left the country rather than risk contact with the fiend currently stalking the streets.

Kevin stood back, as far into the shadows as he could, as the man walked past. He wasn't willing to risk a fight, and right now Jerry looked as though the smallest thing could send him into a towering, violent rage. Nicholas was either not so quick or not so fearful of confrontation, for he didn't move as Jerry approached and even seemed to be trying to block his way. Jerry walked right into the other man's shoulder, and Kevin braced himself for bloodshed.

"Hey, old man, stay the fuck outta my way," Jerry said, bristling as he turned to face Nicholas. As he swung, his coat opened enough to show Kevin a glimpse of metal holstered in his belt. A knife handle, shaped like a snake's head, and no doubt joined to a blade lethal enough to take a man's hand off in one swipe. Where were the police when you needed them? Where was anyone? For half past eight in the evening the streets were eerily deserted, and it seemed Santa, Jerry and Kevin were the only people around, and Kevin did not feel capable of fending off a potential knife attack.

"Jerry," said Nicholas, still perfectly calm, "turn around. You will not find what you are looking for."

"The fuck you talkin' about?"

"You are heading to Wilson & Reeve, no? Turn around. Mr Wilson is not there. You will only find Mr Reeve, and Mr Reeve cannot help you. The knife in your belt...bad things will happen if you go there tonight. Turn around. Go home."

Jerry shook his head, obviously perplexed. His right hand unconsciously found the handle of the knife, gripped it tightly and for a brief second Kevin thought he was going to pull it out into the light. Then Jerry's fingers loosened their hold, his hand dropped back to his side and Kevin breathed a sigh of relief. No one was going to get stabbed here tonight, it seemed. Nicholas showed no reaction as Jerry took a step back and held his hands up in a get-away-from-me gesture. "You...how did you...just get outta my way. Get the fuck away from me," he said, pushing past Nicholas and striding up the street in the direction of the lawyers' offices.

Kevin felt his heart rate slowly returning to normal as he watched the man go. "What was that about?"

Nicholas turned to face him, suddenly looking as old and tired as anybody Kevin had ever seen. Methuselah himself couldn't have looked so worn out. "It is all in motion," Nicholas told him, and there was a note of deep sadness in his voice that was impossible to miss. "It would be best for you if you left. It is all in motion."

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"I did leave, just after that. It was cold, after all, and there was a bed waiting for me at Freddie's," Kevin said. "I wish I'd stayed, now."

What-ifs and why-didn't-Is were things cops found themselves confronted with almost every day, and there was no real answer, nothing Lilly could say that could alleviate the regret she saw on Kevin Morgan's face. "You weren't to know," she offered. "And you may have just ended up being killed yourself, as well." Kevin smiled, as if to thank her for trying.

"What time was this?" Scotty asked, leaning forward.

"Just after half past eight. Maybe twenty to nine."

"Right when Reeve was on the phone to his client," Scotty said to Lilly.

"I didn't hear anything about Jerry getting arrested, and I saw Mr Reeve walking around the next day, so I thought Jerry must have changed his mind about going there - or at least nothing seemed to have happened. I didn't tell the police - it didn't seem to me to have any connection with Nicholas' death. Then Anna said you were looking at Mr Reeve...so I thought you should know."

"This knife...you said it had a handle like a snake's head?" Scotty asked.

"Exactly so."

Scotty ruffled through the file he'd been carrying, searching the crime scene photos. He drew one out and showed it to Kevin. "Did it look like this?"

Kevin's eyes widened. One trembling hand reached out and touched the photo Scotty held up to him. "Exactly so...that is the knife I saw."

"It's the murder weapon," Scotty said, feeling the familiar knot of excitement in his stomach that came at the end of a case, right when everything fell into place. He glanced at Lilly and saw the same excitement written on her face.

"Then...then it was Jerry," Kevin said. "He had the knife...he was right there the very night..."

Lilly looked back at Scotty and smiled. "And he took the knife right into Bill Reeve's office."

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End of Chapter Eight...please leave a review.