-18-
Williamsburg, VA
Saturday, 9:52 p.m.
(Present Day)
After the movie, Sarah and Miguel Reyes said goodnight to their new friends, Nathan and Angie Hendrix. For her part, Alex was glad that the last couple of hours had been spent in silence – she had not looked forward to more awkward conversation with the soccer coach. Although Nathan sat inside the row, leaving a seat beside him open, Alex stepped aside and allowed Antonio to fill it, avoiding any moves that might send Nathan a signal that she was interested in anything other than suffering through an action movie. Her own tastes ran more to foreign films, particularly anything French or South American – but those movies didn't usually screen in Williamsburg. When I get back to New York, she'd tell herself every time Antonio insisted on viewing the latest Hollywood blockbusters, I'm going to spend my first six months going to musicals, foreign films, and operas. Virginia had its own culture; it was just different.
A true gentleman, Nathan had arrived at the theatre early in order to give himself the opportunity to purchase tickets for everyone. He'd tried to pull the same stunt at the concession stand, but Alex had beaten him to it, whipping out a debit card before he had the chance to treat her to an overpriced hot dog and Antonio to his favorite white cherry slushy. Once seated in the darkened theatre, Alex had seethed about his presumption for nearly twenty minutes before she realized how ridiculous she was being. He's clearly a nice man. It's not his fault you couldn't be any less interested. You have to make it clear, but you don't have to be such a… bitch. She smirked to herself and vowed to stop obsessing about what Nathan Hendrix was thinking.
"Daniel Craig is officially the hottest man on the planet," Angie declared once the foursome exited the theater and were preparing to say their goodnights.
Antonio looked dejected, and Alex smiled softly behind him, out of his sight. He had his first crush, and she was torn between whether to tease him about it later or pretend not to notice. It took only a moment's thought for her to settle on the latter option. First crushes were excruciating enough without external torment, no matter how well-intended. God forbid Mother had ever caught onto my crush on Nancy Quinn – though if she had, a little teasing would likely have been the least of my concerns.
"It was wonderful meeting you both, Sarah, Miguel," Nathan said, a friendly smile on his face.
He really is handsome, Alex realized. Too bad he doesn't have a prayer. "Likewise, Angie, Nathan," she said, offering them both a handshake, pulling her hand from Nathan's very quickly.
"Maybe we'll be on the same team," Antonio piped up, and Angie nodded.
"Either way, maybe we can do this again sometime," Nathan said, looking at Alex. "A lot of good movies on their way out… or maybe next time we can just do dinner. Sarah, would you and Miguel like to join Angie and me for our regular pizza night tomorrow? We're going to Pepe's. It's not much, but I'd like you to join-"
"We have plans tomorrow night," Alex interrupted, lying. She saw Antonio looking at her, surprise written on his face.
After a moment of silence, Nathan nodded. "Sure, of course. Well, maybe some other time. I'm sure we'll see each other again. Soccer games and all." He smiled. Either Alex's blunt rejection hadn't bothered him, or he was decent enough not to wear his disappointment openly.
"Sure. Goodnight," Alex said, and with her arm across Antonio's shoulders, she walked to her car.
"Why'd you do that?" he asked once they were on the way home.
"Do what?"
"You know. Say we had plans. We don't have plans."
"How do you know we don't have plans?" she rose an eyebrow, smirking. "Maybe I just haven't told you."
"Fine. Do we?"
"No."
He sighed, and sat quietly for a moment. "You're the one always telling me to try to make friends."
He had a point; she had been encouraging him to make friends, thinking it would help his homesickness. "Angie's a sweet girl," she agreed.
"Do you like her dad?"
"Sure. He's a nice guy," Alex said, noncommittally.
"But do you like him?" Antonio was smiling, mischievously.
"I've only known him for a few hours, Sweetie."
"So? He likes you."
Alex decided to do something she very rarely did. She played dumb. "What makes you think that?"
"Angie told me."
Boom. There it was. Incontrovertible evidence. Alex swallowed hard, not responding.
"She asked me if you're single, because her dad wants to know," he continued.
"When did she ask you this?" Alex said, hearing her own voice raise a couple of octaves as her heart pounded faster. This situation was rapidly becoming more frustrating.
"In the line at the concession stand," he said, smiling.
"And what did you say?"
"That you don't have a boyfriend."
Alex sighed, annoyed. "I wish you hadn't said that. I'm not interested in Angie's dad."
"Why not? He's nice."
She frowned. "I'm just not, okay?"
"Alex?"
"Yeah."
"Do you have a boyfriend in New York?"
She was quiet. She supposed she was lucky that the subject had never come up before, but Antonio was still at the age – or so she thought – when kids would rather eat dirt than acknowledge that their parents, and that's what she was to him by now, had love lives. "I don't have a boyfriend in New York," she answered honestly, pulling into their driveway. "But that doesn't mean I want a boyfriend here."
He shook his head, not understanding and growing tired of trying. "I don't want to tell Angie that my dad's in jail," he admitted, referring to the cover story Agent Hammond had given them when they moved to Virginia.
The FBI had allowed Alex to assume custody of Antonio, but had had to fabricate documents and a believable story as to how a white woman would be the sole guardian of a Latino boy. Their new "truth" was that Alex's ex-husband, Juan Reyes, had fathered Antonio during a previous marriage. Juan was a complete shipwreck of a human being, an abusive husband who'd broken Alex's shoulder – explaining her injury – and then gotten himself thrown into jail on his third DUI.
"You don't have to tell her anything," Alex said. "Just tell her your parents are divorced. So are hers. She'll understand that."
His frown was now as deep as hers. "My parents were murdered," he stated. "I don't like having to pretend my dad's alive and in jail."
"I don't like pretending, either," she said, unlocking their front door and following him into the kitchen. She closed the door behind them. Any other night, she would probably allow him to stay up past his bedtime, make them both hot cocoa and sit on the couch, telling their favorite stories about New York. He always listened attentively as she told him about growing up in New York, trips to visit her parents' families in Boston, and summers in Martha's Vineyard. Conversely, Antonio's parents had not had much money, but they had loved him very much, and his memories were almost entirely positive.
That night, Antonio knelt beside his bed as he always did before crawling into it, and said a prayer for all of those for whom he cared, many of whom were in New York and had no idea what had become of him. Alex watched from the hallway, her stomach doing a small flip when he remembered to say a prayer for Olivia and Elliot, the two detectives who had helped him so much during the Connors trial.
-19-
New York Police Department
16th Precinct, Manhattan Special Victims Unit
Saturday, 11:30 p.m.
(Present Day)
Two hours after it was made, Olivia was still reeling from Billy Grant's revelation. "What the hell are the odds of this happening?" she asked Elliot, pacing the squad room nervously. They were two of the last cops left at the precinct, even Cragen having gone home about an hour before.
"What, of Grant waiting until he's arrested to start talking? To lay the blame on someone else?" Elliot huffed. "Odds of this happening aren't too shabby, Liv."
"Except that he's fingered his drug dealer, who just happens to be the cousin of Cesar Velez," Olivia said, no longer trying to contain the smile that was spreading across her face. Elliot was a bit startled to see that, for the first time in weeks, Olivia's head was held a bit higher, her confident swagger seemed to have replaced the head-facing-down stoop he had hated getting used to.
"Calm down, Liv," he cautioned, not wanting to upset her, but knowing the importance of not letting her get carried away. "It might all just be a convenient story. Say this Serge guy really exists, say he really is Velez's cousin… we still like Billy for the murder."
"But if we find Serge and get him doing something wrong – anything – we arrest him and try to get Velez's location out of him!"
"Whoa, there. Why would he give that information up? If Velez is my cousin, I'm a hell of a lot more likely to do a few years than give up his 20 and get myself killed."
Olivia stopped pacing. Elliot had a point. "So what if Billy's telling the truth and Serge killed Mason Ferrars?"
"Olivia, three hours ago you were as convinced as I am that Billy's our man."
"Three hours ago I didn't know that his dealer was in with Velez. I didn't know his dealer had equal access and opportunity."
"He had nowhere near equal access and opportunity, Olivia," Elliot said, sighing. "We have the word of a drug addicted murder suspect that Serge is Velez's cousin and was ever in the apartment – and only once for sure. Unless we find Serge, get a DNA sample, and it matches the semen in Mason's pants – we've got nothing."
"Melinda didn't find any prints on the splinters from the bat, huh?"
"No – they likely broke off the top, so the attacker – Billy Grant – never would've touched them."
"We need the bat."
"Well, Billy never went home, so we know where he didn't stash it."
Olivia nodded. "Elliot, don't you see? If we can find Serge, and it turns out he raped and killed Mason, we can pressure him to give us information on Velez. I'm going to Manhattan Valley tomorrow, we can-"
"Okay, Partner, just back up a little," Elliot said, wishing he could indulge Olivia's fantasy but knowing he would be doing her no favors if he didn't at least try to serve as the voice of reason. "We have a perfectly good suspect with every reason to lie in there. Sure, we should look for this Serge guy, see if he's out there somewhere. But when that DNA analysis comes back on Monday and says Billy's our guy, I've gotta know you're not going to risk that conviction to go on a fishing expedition for Velez's supposed cousin."
Olivia sighed, and stopped her pacing. "This is the first possible lead I've had in five years, El," she said, quietly. "Don't take this away from me."
"No, no, I wouldn't do that," he said, honestly. "You want to keep looking for Serge? Okay. But we're not gonna ignore that all the evidence points to Billy just because it would be convenient to you for it to point to this other guy."
"Convenient?" Olivia barked, and Elliot immediately regretted his choice of word. "In five years, this is the only possible link I've found to the man whose continued existence is keeping Alex away from me. It's not 'convenient,' Elliot. It's the only hope I have that one day…" Her voice broke, and she was unable to stop the tears from escaping her eyes.
"Hey." Elliot's voice was gentle, his hands comforting as he reached out and hugged Olivia to him, patting her back tenderly until her tears subsided. "Come on. I'll give you a ride home. On the way, we'll call Fin, see if he remembers any dealers or suppliers named Serge in that area from Narcotics."
Silently, she nodded and got into his car.
