10
Although Karkaroff had clearly noticed his attorney's discomfort, he didn't seem to be able to discern what had caused it. Brenda could tell from the irritated sidewards glances that he was fed up with his lawyer's annoying nervousness and she felt gleeful with the realization that she had broken through their united front. Slowly, she began to insert more direct and useful questions into her line of questioning and he answered them as loftily as he did all the others. He had no clue, Brenda thought and gave the fidgeting Gideon Craig her best saccharine smile. Time to speed things up a little.
"So you said you'd been asked to pick up money for someone whose name you do not know. How did you communicate with that person?" she asked.
Karkaroff smiled at what he clearly thought was another easy little question by the pretty blonde sitting across from him. "He gave me a cell phone number to call."
"Oh." Brenda feigned confusion. "When did he give it to you if you never met before?"
Karkaroff was not yet aware of the looming danger and gave her a self-assured grin. "Sorry. Must be my English. I mean I got the number from the guy who set us up with each other."
"And who was that guy?" Brenda asked.
"Someone from a bar I go to. Goes by the name of Carl," Karkaroff replied evenly. He was good, she had to give him that. So far he had barely contradicted himself.
"Didn't that seem shady to you, sir?" Brenda tried the doe-eyed girl and found a smirk on Karkaroff's face. He liked lecturing her and proving her wrong. Maybe it was time to use that to her advantage.
"Shady? No. It was just someone asking for help. You know, there are lots of perfectly legal transactions going on that require some privacy."
"Hmm," Brenda pretended to consult her notes and smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I am not good at remembering all the details." Stevens, always ready to play along, gave an annoyed grunt at her comment and she pretended to be slightly intimidated by it. She flipped through her notes and found the name she had written down after Tao had given her Sharon Beck's boyfriend's name via the earpiece she was wearing. "Ah, here it is. You said that the man's name was Dick."
"Rick," Karkaroff corrected her, followed by a vigilant look crossing his otherwise expressionless face. He opened his mouth to add something but fell silent when Brenda finally decided to drop the act.
"But wait. I must have misread my notes," she said sweetly and then added in a sharp tone that could have cut through glass: "You said he never said his name. Were you lying to me, Mr Karkaroff?"
Karkaroff seemed genuinely taken aback by her sudden change of attitude and looked to his attorney for help. Craig, however, seemed a little resigned and unable to come up with anything to get his client out of the ditch he'd maneuvered himself into. Brenda could see that she needed to use the element of surprise to her advantage. The more quickly she fired questions at him, the more likely he was to break. Once the smooth facade was cracked, she had to go in for the kill as quickly as possible.
"Mr Karkaroff, we have multiple witnesses that saw you pointing your gun at Captain Raydor whom you knew was unarmed. You'll never get out of that one. Juries aren't particularly well-disposed towards defendants who attempted murder on police officers."
"Let alone defendants who knew that their victim was pregnant," Stevens added, throwing Brenda off balance for the shortest of moments. Raydor was pregnant? What else had she missed? Provenza running for major seemed about as likely.
"With your track record, you'll end up behind bars for a very long time. Now, we could also charge you with obstruction of justice and if we don't find your friend Rick, you'll most definitely be the one who'll stand trial for Sharon Beck's murder as well. Things are looking bleak." She dragged out the last word by sharply pronouncing every single letter and slammed her hand onto the table, startling everyone else in the room. She raised her voice in an abrupt and brutal change from her silky tones.
"Tell me where Rusty Beck is or I swear I'll make sure you're going in for life."
Karkaroff looked taken-aback but she wasn't sure it was enough yet and got up from her seat, walking around him. Just as she had expected, the sudden loss of control had thrown him completely off balance and his eyes followed her every move, his legs suddenly restless.
"These are empty threads coming from someone who isn't even with the Major Crimes division anymore," Craig tried his luck.
"There are more than enough people watching us right now who are. People who are loyal to Captain Raydor who almost fell victim to your client," Brenda hissed. "Where is Rusty Beck?"
"I don't-"
"Screw you!" Brenda yelled and leaned over the table to invade his space. "You know exactly where Rusty is. You have seen him. You'll make this a lot easier on the both of us if you just tell me."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Karkaroff had changed from smug to stoic, but she wasn't discouraged by it. There were many layers one had to cut through and he had just shed the first. It was only a matter of time.
Sharon had dozed off the moment they had left the parking garage. Her head was resting against the window, one hand in her lap still clutching the phone, the other on her stomach. Her breathing was deep and regular and her features completely relaxed. Andy liked to watch her sleep because it was when she let go of everything else, when she was truly herself and did not hide behind a mask or a sarcastic comment. The peaceful sight calmed him down as well and he could feel his own tense muscles relax while he drove them through the early morning traffic. Less people were leaving the city than going in, but traffic was still thick with commuters and they were moving slowly. He would have liked to call ahead so Sharon's children knew that they were coming but he didn't dare take the phone from Sharon for fear that she would bite his hand off if he attempted to.
He still felt a little overwhelmed by the most recent developments. Pacifying Provenza was no longer his first priority after Taylor had gotten wind of what was happening. Even though Barbara had somehow managed to avert the worst, he would be all over them, trying to find fault in their conduct and Andy was not looking forward to that. With a temper like his, close scrutiny could be very dangerous. In a matter of hours, their already complicated life had become even more intricate. Everyone being in the know about Sharon's pregnancy turned it from their sweet secret into a somewhat frightening reality. Only now it occurred to him that he would have to tell his own children about it sooner or later. They weren't around as often as Sharon's were, but they had a right to know. His ex-wife was bound to find out as well and, knowing her spiteful nature, he couldn't put it past her to contact Sharon and tell her what a lousy father Flynn had been when his kids had been little. Of course things had changed when he had given up the drinking, but he was still a sarcastic asshole most of the time, or so Provenza assured him in regular intervals. The prospect of being offered a second chance at a family caused him both happiness and the strong urge to run and never look back.
The ringing of his phone made both of them jump. Sharon was awake instantly and pressed the receiver button with shaking hands, putting it on speaker phone.
"Yes?"
"Captain, it's Provenza. Rusty is in a motel by the name of 'Sunshine Inn'. I'll text you the address and we'll meet you there as soon as we can."
Sharon let out a long breath and pressed her free hand to her chest in relief. Only a second later, Provenza's text arrived. She checked the address and turned around to look out of the back window.
"Andy! That's just around the block from here. In that traffic, even squad cars will take ages. Turn around!"
Andy did as he was told without further ado and only two minutes later, a run-down building came into view. Its dirty walls had once been yellow and the large sign announcing vacancies bore testament to the fact that everyone else found the place as shabby and uninviting as he did. He found a parking spot in front of the building and reached for his gun while Sharon did the same. He knew they were in a hurry. No one knew what Sharon Beck's boyfriend was doing to Rusty now that the ransom drop off had clearly gone wrong. As far as he knew, every second counted. And still he also had other things to think about.
"Sharon. No," he said firmly when she reached out to open the door. She froze and turned around, tears in her eyes.
"Rusty needs me," she said defensively.
"He needs someone who's armed and ready to get him out of there. That would be me. You're pregnant, Sharon, and you could hardly walk back at the station. You can't honestly believe that I would let you near a possibly armed, certainly violent man."
Sharon took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, pressing her lips together. Her eyes were swimming in tears, but she nodded. "Please be careful." She reached out to pull him in and kiss him. "I don't want you hurt."
"This is not my first time doing this," Flynn assured her. He squeezed her hand one last time and then ran towards the motel. The entrance hall looked even more depressing than the exterior of the building with a sagging sofa and moth-eaten curtains, the carpet's original color barely recognizable with all the stains it was covered in. A faded poster of a sunrise on the beach looked almost ironic behind the old-fashioned reception desk that was so riddled with cigarette burns that Flynn felt repulsed just by looking at it. The man behind the desk could have stepped right out of one of Rusty's favorite horror movies, he thought grimly as he took in the yellowish skin, faulty teeth and deep-set eyes.
"Which rooms are taken?" he barked, flashing his police badge and keeping the gun well in sight. A little intimidation worked best with these types.
"Only the one closest to the street with the separate door to the parking lot," the man stuttered and was soon left staring after Flynn who had already bolted into the indicated direction.
The first thing Rusty registered upon slowly returning to consciousness was the metallic taste of blood inside his mouth, the second was an excruciating pain when he tried to move. He couldn't even tell which body parts were injured as it felt as if his whole body was nothing more than a searing entity of pain. His left eye wouldn't open and he could tell from experience that it was most likely swollen shut. With the other one, he could see blood stains on the mud-colored carpet if his blurred vision could be trusted. He wanted to scream but no sound came out. He could see Rick's dirty boots next to him and it slowly registered inside his head, that his mother's ex-boyfriend - or boyfriend? - had to be sitting on the bed in front of which Rusty had passed out. The little hope he'd nursed that Sharon and her team would find him in time had slowly been dripping away over the painful, desperate hours he had spent in this dirty room, slipping in and out of consciousness. He wanted to die, he thought, wanted the pain to stop. He closed his eyes, pretending to be unconscious for fear of being beaten up again if Rick noticed otherwise. In his mind's eye, he saw Sharon, all nervous on her couch, asking whether he would like her to adopt him. He saw Flynn and Provenza, arms full of hot dogs and soft drinks, cheering on their favorite baseball team. They would be sad, but life would go on for them, would somehow be bearable while his suffering would finally stop. Sometimes Rusty thought that once your life was screwed-up to a certain point, there was no way it would ever get better. He had believed in the sweet illusion that he could be Sharon Raydor's son when the truth was that the past would always catch up with him. He would never be able to ban the darkness from his life when everyone that he had ever cared about always hurt him. There was a crash and his good eye flew open when Rick got to his feet, muttering a curse under his breath. He reached for the gun Rusty knew he was keeping under the pillow but had never been able to reach for because his wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape. He could hear the safety catch being released at the same time that Flynn's voice rang out with calm authority that already held the tiniest hint of a threat.
"Freeze. Put the gun down!"
Was he alone? Hadn't he brought any back-up?
"You freeze, asshole, or the kid is toast." He could feel Rick grabbing him by his now filthy shirt and dragging him to his feet. He couldn't stand by himself so he had no choice but to lean into Rick's body that gave off the scent of booze and sweat which made Rusty even more nauseous than he already was.
"My squad is about to arrive. You don't stand a chance," Flynn warned.
"Oh, really? I don't see anyone." Rusty felt the gun that was being pressed into his temple and his mouth ran dry. He knew Rick. He was mean but, ultimately, a coward. Beating up women and children was part of his repertoire, but he never angered people his own size. Rusty had never wanted to find out what he'd do when cornered but he knew that he was about to.
"Lower your weapon!" Flynn commanded again but Rick only responded by pushing his own gun harder against Rusty's aching temple. He felt sweat breaking out of every single pore of his body despite the fact that he was shivering cold.
"Back off, or I swear I'll shoot him!"
Rusty closed his eyes, feeling Rick move him against his soft belly, dragging him in front of him so Flynn couldn't get a clear shot. This was it, he thought when the sound of Rick's finger grazing the trigger echoed inside his eardrums, magnified by the overwhelming fear that was ruling his every thought. He did not dare move a muscle. He was as good as dead. Even if the squad arrived now. Especially then. A show of lights and noises from outside would most certainly prompt Rick to pull the trigger. Rusty nearly wished he would as he didn't think he could take the rushing adrenaline any longer. He heard another clicking of a gun, this one farther away, followed by a voice that was so cold that he almost didn't recognize it.
"Drop the gun or I swear I'll blow your brains out," Sharon Raydor ordered and added in a lower, even more dangerous voice: "You know I am not kidding."
Rusty knew that he was saved the moment the barrel's pressure on his temple lessened slightly. Rick wouldn't risk his own life. He was far too afraid of dying to go out this way. He heard Flynn's careful footsteps approaching them and then, finally, the clattering of Rick's gun on the floor. The moment his meaty arms let go of Rusty, he lost balance and his face painfully connected with the carpet once again. The clicking of handcuffs and Flynn's low voice Mirandizing Rick seemed to come from very far away but Sharon's soft, cooing words of comfort were closer although his brain was too fuzzy to make out what she was saying. He opened his eyes and saw her securing her gun and sliding it back into its holster before she reached out and began to work on the duct tape on his wrists.
"It's okay, honey," she whispered. "I'm here. It's over." She was on her knees next to him now and he could see tears glistening in her eyes when she cast the duct tape aside and pulled his aching head into her lap. "Andy! He needs an ambulance right away!" she yelled, then tenderly brushed his hair from his face.
Andy pushed the handcuffed kidnapper into Provenza's arms as soon as his partner burst through the door and headed for Sharon and Rusty at the other side of the room. Rusty was badly beaten, his face and arms bruised, his shirt collar soaked in blood and his left eye swollen shut. Once again, his lip was split and bloody and from the looks of him, he had just passed out. Sharon looked distraught in her kneeling position on the floor, cradling Rusty's head in her hands and lap. He lowered himself down to the floor next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, resisting the urge to pull her into him in order not to disturb Rusty. The fresh scent of her hair was a welcome relief from the cold cigarette smoke and odor of stale sweat that hung inside the stuffy room and he inhaled it eagerly. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry. I just couldn't," she said quietly but he was far too relieved to be angry with her for ignoring his request to stay back and safe. What she had done had been courageous and it had worked, so he was ready to ignore the fact that it had also been terribly dangerous. She caressed Rusty's forehead gently and carefully stroked back the strands of hair that were stuck in the dried blood on the boy's forehead.
"I can't bear seeing him like this again," she choked. "Why can't that poor boy get a rest?"
"He's safe now, Sharon," Andy said soothingly. "He is with you."
They both looked up at the team of paramedics that came running through the door and Sharon reluctantly allowed them to take Rusty from her and get him ready to be put on a stretcher. Andy got to his feet and reached his hand out to help her up, but she wasn't looking at him, her eyes focused on the blood stains on the floor instead. He still noticed how tense her face looked.
"I'm sure you're allowed to ride in the ambulance with him," he told her. "Come on."
Her face was twisted in pain when she finally turned it towards him and Flynn's heart sank immediately when he saw that she was doubled over and clutching her stomach again.
"I can't," she whispered. "I'm sorry. It... hurts too much."
"Ma'am, are you alright?" One of the paramedics, a burly but gentle man, had noticed her distress and placed his heavy hand on her shoulder. Sharon was unresponsive as she had squeezed her eyes shut and had resorted to muffled whimpers, so Andy answered for her, hoping that it would not be too late.
"She's almost thirteen weeks pregnant. It's high risk."
The man nodded in understanding and signaled for a second stretcher to be brought over while Andy wrapped his arms protectively around Sharon who had begun to cry softly. "I'm so sorry. I'm losing our baby. I'm so sorry... It's all my fault," she murmured over and over again, sobs now rocking her body and her hand clawing into his shoulder. He held her more closely and cradled her head against his chest to still her.
"We'll get you to a hospital. Maybe everything will be alright," he tried to reassure her, but she didn't even seem to hear him. Once again, she was crushed by guilt despite the fact that she had Rusty back. Flynn could only hope that saving his life hadn't come at the loss of another.
Rusty woke to sunlight and a clean, antiseptic smell that differed so much from the nauseating malodor he had spent the previous days in, that he felt instantly pacified. He was in a safe place, he thought, a light and clean place with crisp white sheets and someone holding his hand. His neck ached when he turned his head to see who it was, but he could also tell that something was taking the edge off the pain. Maybe it was the liquid that was dripping into his arm from an IV-line. He felt a little taken-aback by the discovery that Andy Flynn was the one by his bedside, covering his hand with his. It should have felt awkward to have the man hold his hand, but Rusty found it rather comforting instead, paternal even - and in a good way that was completely different from the father figures he'd known before.
"I expect you're feeling like hell," Flynn said sympathetically, his usual sarcastic smirk notably absent. He looked tired and worn, Rusty noticed with a pang of guilt.
"I do," he croaked in an unfamiliar voice that sounded like a child's. He didn't like to feel or appear weak but he could not gather up the strength to speak up. He tried to remember the moment when he had passed out, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Sharon had been there, he thought, cradling his head and telling him that everything would be alright. Where was she now? Why wasn't she here to watch over him?
"Where's Sharon?" he added quietly, instantly ashamed at the hint of impending tears that his voice carried. He didn't want anyone to see him cry, not even Flynn, but his body didn't seem willing to obey him right now. A dark look crossed Flynn's face and made Rusty wonder whether Sharon's whereabouts were the reason for the air of sadness around him.
"She's right there," he said, the ghost of a smile appearing on his lips and when Rusty turned his head into the direction the older man was pointing, he realized that there was a weight on his shoulder and the sensation of strands of long, wavy hair tickling his cheek registered with him for the first time. His foster mother was in his bed, curled up into his side but careful not to put too much of her weight on him. From what he could see, her shoes and jacket were off and she was in her blouse and skirt, sleeping soundly. She was also covered by what looked suspiciously like Flynn's suit jacket.
"She's completely exhausted," Flynn explained. "You've been asleep for almost fifteen hours, Rusty. She was brought here along with you because she collapsed at the motel with abdominal pain." His voice trailed off for a second and a cold hand seemed to grip Rusty's heart. His mind on his own survival, he hadn't been thinking much about Sharon's baby while he had been with Rick, but he didn't want Sharon to suffer and he knew that she would if she had lost the baby. She was pale, Rusty noticed, but he couldn't tell from the rest of her appearance whether she was still pregnant or not. Somehow he didn't dare to ask the question, that was burning inside him.
"They say she needs a lot of rest," Andy explained. "She didn't want to leave you, though, and so I intimidated the nurse into letting her rest with you like this."
A warm feeling spread through Rusty when he regarded his foster mother who had somehow managed to make herself comfortable in the narrow hospital bed to stay with him. Uncertainty remained, however, as Flynn had said nothing about the baby's condition, hadn't even mentioned the pregnancy. Were they still keeping it from him? Or were they just trying not to burden him with the knowledge that Sharon had suffered a miscarriage?
"She wanted to be there when you woke up, but she's been sleeping for almost as long as you have. Which is probably for the better."
Rusty watched the sleeping woman a while longer before he finally gathered up the courage to ask. He didn't actually want to think about the realm of possibilities that a new baby opened, didn't want to dwell on all the fears his mother had ignited inside him by pointing out that Sharon and Andy certainly wouldn't want him around anymore. On the other hand, he was worried and he wanted to know.
"My mother told me that Sharon was... pregnant. Is that true?" He could tell that Flynn was trying to hide the pain that crossed his face, but Rusty caught it anyway, all of his senses still heightened by what he'd gone through lately.
"Yes, that's true," he said. "please don't think that we kept it from you to spite you. Sharon was worried about you being nervous about your finals, so we were planning on taking you out to dinner the night of the wedding to tell you."
His finals, Rusty thought, seemed so far away, so insignificant. He remembered how nervous he had been through the set of exams and how powerful the feeling of relief had been when he'd returned home after the last one to go to bed early and rise the next day to accompany Sharon and Andy to Amy Sykes' wedding. It seemed like a lifetime ago, as if he had never actually experienced those things. Why was his life a series of fragments that seemed completely independent of each other? Had he actually ever lived when his memories were always so foggy and unreal? He looked at Sharon who looked peaceful and vulnerable in her sleep which was at odds with how she had threatened Rick back at the motel. She had sounded so cold and dangerous and powerful.
"Did she lose the baby because of me?" he asked in a small voice, the weight of the responsibility for something terrible suddenly resting on his shoulders. If not for him and his history, none of that would have happened. The dread rising inside him was threatening to suffocate him and he suddenly felt more miserable even than when he had woken to the grueling sight of Rick's triumphant face.
"Rusty," Flynn said intently. "Sharon made her own choices when she went in there to save you, okay? You aren't responsible for any of this. And besides," A tired but relieved smirk appeared on his face. "She was in a lot of pain at first, but it was mostly the stress and exhaustion. The doctor said that they'll both be okay if she rests properly. And the only way I could get her to rest properly was to allow her in your room. You wouldn't believe the stubbornness of that woman."
"I am well-acquainted with it," Rusty replied with relief. "If she sets her mind to something, nothing can throw her off."
"Nothing," Flynn agreed. "I cut her some slack because she was out of her mind with worry, but now that you're back, I won't let her out of my sight. If she tries anything, I'll lock her up or worse, I'll make Provenza watch her." He grinned when Rusty laughed but the merry expression faltered immediately when he saw Rusty grimace with the pain that was radiating through his body.
"You have a broken rib," Flynn explained softly. "They want to keep you here for observation for a while, but then you can go home."
Home. Home sounded good and yet it was like a faraway place that didn't really exist. Had he once been looking forward to the summer holidays? Had he feared the trial he had to attend as a material witness? Had he wondered how it would be to visit Sharon's mother in Salt Lake City in July? The only feeling that remained from that time was uncertainty. How would things change now?
"When is the baby due?" he asked, turning his head towards Flynn who looked a little surprised at the sudden change of topic.
"Early January," he replied with a proud note in his voice that he found not to rest well with Rusty. He looked slightly sheepish before he assumed a neutral expression. January seemed far away to Rusty, but he could still feel his insides churn.
"That'll give Cynthia plenty of time to find another foster family for me," he said quietly, appearing resigned to his fate despite the fact that he hoped so much that Flynn would prove him wrong. Pretending to be okay with what might happen was a lot easier than asking whether he would be allowed to stay. If it turned out that he would have to leave, at least he wouldn't appear needy or dependent.
"Don't be an idiot, Rusty," Flynn snarled a little more harshly than Rusty had expected. "You're not going anywhere! That would break Sharon's heart." His loud voice had not only startled Rusty but also caused Sharon to stir next to him. She stretched one of her arms and blinked against the light then sat up slowly with a slightly disoriented little smile that lit up her face when she found that Rusty was awake. She turned and searched for her glasses on the nightstand, then slipped them onto her nose to be able to see her foster son more clearly.
"How are you feeling?" she asked him softly. "Do you need anything?" She gestured towards the door and started to say something else but Flynn cut her off with a rather primeval growl.
"You're not going anywhere!"
Sharon shot him a glare but stayed put on the bed and rubbed Rusty's shoulder affectionately. "Rusty, the reason that Andy's acting like that is that I'm-"
"It's okay. I know." Rusty had a hard time looking her in the eye. "Andy just told me that I can stay anyway."
A look of shock crossed Sharon's face. "Of course, you can! Rusty, I still want to adopt you."
Despite the relief that her heartfelt statement brought, he still didn't meet her eyes. "I thought you wanted to help my mother become clean to be able to get rid of me. She said so."
Silence fell across the room and the same haunted expression he had seen before returned to Flynn's eyes. When he turned his head towards Sharon, he found it mirrored on her face. She sat up slowly and had some difficulty balancing her body on the narrow bed now that she was now longer comfortably curled into Rusty's side. She slid her legs off the bed and sat down on its side instead, possibly to give him more room or to bring some distance between them. He could tell from the familiar expression on her face that she had bad news.