Author's notes: The case is going to become more of the focus of the story in the next couple of chapters but this chapter brings up some questions about it. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: still not mine.
Family Loyalties
Chapter 11
"There is nothing that needs to be said, Conrad." Rebecca insisted. Her eyes never left Riley as Frank wrapped a comforting arm around the teenaged girl as they, along with Joe and Biff, started up the stairs to Con's apartment. "Is Riley okay? She's wearing a sling. She wasn't wearing that when she ran away. What happened?"
Con sighed. Was she truly concerned or was she just looking for something to blame him for? "She was mugged a few days ago. I had her checked out by a doctor. She's going to be okay; mostly bruises. The same guy followed her here and tried to kidnap her today. Fortunately Joe Hardy and one of his friends stopped him."
He didn't think it was a wise move telling about Mickey's part in the attack. He knew his brother-in-law hadn't meant for harm to come to Riley but also knew his parents wouldn't see it the same way. "She's going to have to make a statement at the police station."
His father nodded. "We'll stop by there on our way out of town. As I said, we don't have time for all of this nonsense. I'm going to get her so we can go."
Con blocked his father's path, his arms crossed against his chest. "No, Dad. You are going to listen to me for once. I might not be able to stop you from taking Riley home with you but I'm sure as hell going to make sure she's going to be okay."
"Don't be so dramatic, Conrad; and watch your language around your mother. Of course she's going to be okay. You make it seem like we beat her or something equally monstrous. What do you take us for- monsters?" Conrad, Sr. folded his own arms across his chest and the two men stared at each other. They were the same height and had similar builds so their matching poses made one just seem like an older mirror version of the other. Realizing it looked absurd that they were standing there looking for all the world like they were about to duel, Con uncrossed his arms and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"No, Dad, I don't think you are monsters. I think the two of you have just totally forgotten what it is like to raise a teenage girl."
His father rolled his eyes and almost snorted. "This from the guy who's never been married or had children of his own. Do not stand there and presume to tell me how to raise a child as if you have any idea what it is like."
"Conrad," his mother reached out and touched his shoulder. "We don't have to fight. I get that you want to protect Riley; but life with us isn't as bad as she tries to make it seem. A teenager needs boundaries but don't always appreciate them when they are given. Riley is no different, although she might be just a little more emotional and over-the-top with her reactions."
"Is that why you were slipping anti-depressants into her food without her knowledge?"
A warm blush of red crept into his mother's cheeks. Con was glad to see it; the reaction suggested that possibly she knew what she had been doing was wrong. "The doctor prescribed them and she refused to take them. I used to do the same thing to you when you were little and refused to take your vitamins. Sometimes parents have to make the hard choices to do what's right for their children."
The knowledge that he'd been drugged, even with vitamins, against his knowledge as a child bothered him but he didn't let it sway him from his current argument. "Vitamins are one thing; they are sold over the counter and don't have dangerous side effects. We're talking about a drug that's not even recommended for people under eighteen because of the associated risks involved. Don't feed me this crap about the doctor prescribing them like it absolves you of anything. I know how Doc Pat works. If someone came in saying their child needed heartworm pills, he'd write the script. He would have twenty years ago, and now that he's older than Methuselah, I'm sure he hasn't changed. You went in and asked him to put her on the anti-depressants; didn't you?"
Con knew having this argument in the parking lot wasn't the best place, but he didn't want his parents to get any closer to Riley until he had said his piece. Fortunately, most of the tenants in the apartment were still at work so no one was around to see the altercation. His mother took a step backward and hung her head but his father closed the gap between them; standing almost nose to nose with his son.
"You don't know anything about what was going on…"
"Whose fault is that? You two were the ones who threatened me if I tried to visit." Con interrupted bitterly. His father continued on as if nothing had been said.
"She was avoiding social events, closing herself off to her friends. We weren't about to let her become like her father. Maybe if his parents had done more, our precious Gina would still be alive today…"
Con shook his head. "You don't know anything about Mickey's parents and what they did for him. Do you honestly think they didn't do everything they could to help him? He had an illness; but despite the toll it took on him, he was still managing to live a happy and successful life. Yeah, Riley might have inherited some of the same quirks Mickey had to deal with but at least her parents were open enough with her about them that she knows what's going on and how to handle them. Did you even ask her why she was avoiding doing things with those so-called friends you selected for her? They were giving her a hard time about her parents and what happened. I'm an adult and I would have avoided them as well or, worse, used my fist to make it difficult for them to even open their big mouths for awhile."
He took a deep breath to calm himself down. Getting unreasonably upset would not help him win an argument with his parents. "Look I get the impulse of wanting to make choices for her when you think she's making the wrong one. Believe me, she's only been here twenty-four hours and I've had those same impulses. But in the end I knew I had to ignore those heavy-handed methods if I wanted her to trust me. You didn't and now she doesn't trust you. You think she's going to eat any food you put in front of her for a long while? She'll starve herself first. Is that what you want?"
"She's going home with us, Conrad. There's nothing you can do about it. We are protecting her by not letting her stay with you."
His father's words stung him. How could they think she needed protecting from him? "What's that suppose to mean? I would never hurt her."
Conrad, Sr. didn't answer but turned around to stalk back to the front of the car, breathing heavily. Rebecca stepped forward again, her own eyes filled with tears. "You are a police officer, Conrad. It's a dangerous job. Why do you think we didn't want you to purse law enforcement as a career? I don't care what precautions you take, you could be injured or killed in the line of duty one day. Riley's already lost her mother; what do you think it would do to her if she was living with you and lost you as well?"
- FH JH - FH JH - FH JH -
Inside Con's apartment, Riley was standing just inside the open door, watching the interplay between her grandparents and uncle below. Their words weren't carrying that far but she could tell by their body language that the conversation wasn't going well. The three boys were standing awkwardly nearby. They wanted to help but weren't sure what to do. Finally Frank reached out and touched the younger girl's shoulder.
"Riley, why don't you come sit down? You're still a little shaky. Con's going to do what he can."
Reluctantly, she allowed the older Hardy to lead her to the couch. Joe, hating to root around Con's kitchen but wanting to do something, fished a bottle of water from the refrigerator and opened it for Riley. She accepted it and took a small swallow before setting it aside. She looked at Biff in wonder, his presence finally registering with her. "You stayed around."
Biff grinned. "I told you my grandmother would give me fits if I left a damsel in distress. And believe me I'd rather be tackled by the whole defensive line of a football team while not wearing pads than be on the receiving end of a tongue lashing from my grandmother."
There was almost a hint of a smile on her face but then her expression turned gloomy. "It's my fault he's arguing with them. I never should have come to Bayport."
Biff sat down in the chair next to the couch. "Don't feel that way. I know I don't know Officer Riley the way Frank and Joe know him; they're the ones always having run-ins with the law." He paused when he realized how that sounded. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. I just meant they have to deal with the police more often while they are solving mysteries. Anyway, I don't see him as being the type to get mixed up in a situation he didn't believe in. If he's fighting to keep you with him, it's because he wants to. Don't blame yourself."
"Biff's absolutely right, Riley. If Con didn't want you to stay here, he would have just allowed them to take you. Besides, if you hadn't come to Bayport, who knows what that guy might have done to you and we wouldn't have been around to help you."
She shuddered one again at the thought. Frank knew his brother was trying to help but he wasn't sure that reminding Riley of her close call was the way to go about it. Sitting next to her on the couch, he could feel how icy cold her skin was - probably a reaction to the shock she'd experienced. He reached behind him for a blanket that someone, probably Con, had folded and placed on the back of the couch. He unfolded it and wrapped it around her small shoulders, keeping his arms loosely around her for comfort. "Don't worry about any of that right now, Riley. You did come to Bayport and we're glad you did. If you have to return to Cloverton with your grandparents, Joe and I are still going to investigate your mother's death. Even if that means we have to drive to Cloverton to do our investigating. And now that you and Con have reconnected, I don't think he's going to let anyone keep him away either. You aren't alone in any of this."
Riley smiled shakily, appreciating their attempts to reassure her. "I know and believe me, I'm grateful. I told Uncle Con last night that I would run away before I let them take me back. Yet when giving the opportunity today, I couldn't do it. I came here instead. I wouldn't have done that before. It just hurts my stomach to think about returning with them. How do I trust them? I know I'm not totally out of the effects of the medicine they were slipping me but at least I'm starting to feel less like a stranger in my own body. I don't want to go back to that feeling again."
Frank shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. Yesterday, you were pretty distrustful of Con as well, yet today it seems much better. How did he regain your trust?"
The blanket was slowly bringing warmth back into her body, and she leaned further into Frank's body taking the strength his protective arms around her were offering her. "Uncle Con and I have always had a great relationship until that time I came to him for help. Growing up he was more than just my uncle; he was a friend as well. I was hurt that he wouldn't let me stay and I allowed my grandparents to convince me of things that weren't true. Being back here it was easier to remember that he really was on my side. It's different with Gram and Gramps. I know on some level they love me. I'm my mother's daughter but I also believe they resent the part of me that came from Dad; they always have. I can't change that."
They sat there in silence for several more minutes and then Riley wiggled out of Frank's arms and stood up, letting the blanket fall to the couch. The three boys looked at her, concerned. She reached for her backpack purse that was sitting on the coffee table, a look of determination settling on her face. "This is stupid. I can't stay up here while they are down there deciding my fate. I keep saying I don't want them treating me like a child; it's time I quit acting like one."
"Riley, wait…" Frank tried to stop her but she was already walking toward the door. She opened it but stopped before crossing the threshold as her grandfather's angry voice filtered its way up from the parking lot.
"You won't get away with this, Son. Mark my words, you will regret this."
"Who's that down there with your uncle?" Biff asked, standing right behind her and pointing out a man in dress pants and shirt standing next to Con.
No one had an answer for him as they watched Riley's grandparents get in their car and peal out of the parking lot with a screech of tires. The newcomer reached over and shook Con's hand before following him up the stairs to the apartment. Riley took several steps backward into the apartment; almost scared to think what all of this meant. It looked like her grandparents had left without her but with her grandfather's warning reverberating in her ears, she couldn't believe that it was all over.
As he stepped into the apartment, Con wrapped his arms around his niece and kissed the top of her head. He was physically and emotionally drained and it was only mid afternoon. He blamed his sudden fatigue on a combination of the lack of sleep the night before, his worry over Riley being in nature, his anger at his parents, and the stress of the question his mother had poised about his job. "Darling, this is Milton Brewer, the lawyer Mrs. Hardy recommended to me."
He led her back to the couch and sat down with her beside him. Brewer took the chair that Biff had been sitting in earlier and the three teenaged boys took perches where they could. Riley looked up at him in confusion. "Why did they leave, Uncle Con? I can't see Gramps giving up easy and he sounded pretty mad. I didn't want to cause you trouble. I'm sorry…"
He hugged her gently, pretty sure that the ibuprofen she'd taken earlier that morning had long since worn off and that her pain was probably back full force after her attack. "Shh, it's okay, Darling. You are staying with me. At least temporarily."
Riley blinked a couple of times as she looked up at him, not sure whether she trusted what her ears were telling her or not. "But you said it would take awhile. How? Is this some sort of joke?"
Milton Brewer laughed as he handed her a piece of paper with an official looking blue background. "Not hardly; you'll see Judge Braddock's signature on that court order and I don't think the man would recognize humor if you hit him upside the head with a joke book. It's not a victory in the war but it's certainly the first battle won."
She scanned the paper quickly not understanding all the finer points but recognizing it as a temporary custody order listing Con as her guardian. She shook her head. "I still don't understand. How did you do this so quickly? Uncle Con told me you were good but not a miracle worker. This looks like a miracle to me."
"Ordinarily it would have taken a lot longer. Judges aren't in too much of a hurry to change custody agreements on a whim unless there is extreme danger to the child. While what Officer Riley told me about your grandmother slipping anti-depressants in your food unawares troubled me, without proof I wasn't going to be able to get a judge to issue an emergency order. But on a whim I did some checking and I'm glad I did. It's unusual but not completely unheard of in small towns so I figured it was worth a check and turns out I was right."
Frank frowned. "About what?"
"After Gina Davis died and Mickey Davis was arrested, no formal custody transfer was made. It sometimes happens when there is a death and no big issue on who will be the guardian. Usually goes unnoticed until schools get cranky about residency requirements or, in cases like this, someone decides to fight for custody. Since there was no custody agreement legally in place it wasn't hard to convince a judge to issue a temporary ruling. I can't make any guarantee what will happen when it goes to a full hearing, but I'm going to try really hard to make it a permanent situation."
"I'm sure my parents are going to fight this tooth and nail. What can we do to make our position stronger?" Con pressed.
Brewer considered the question carefully before answering. "On one hand, Riley is at an age that a judge will take her wishes into consideration but the anti-depressant issue could work against us. Your parents can say that due to medical issues, Riley's wishes are not a factor here. It would help if we had a report from a psychiatrist who would testify on her behalf."
"Dr. Myers is dad's doctor. He's seen me before as well. I'm sure he'd testify." Riley suggested. Milton nodded but Con looked at her carefully, trying to get a real read on her answer.
"You okay with seeing him? I'd like to hear his opinion on any lasting effects from the Cymbalta as well."
"Dad trusted him, and so do I. We'd have to make a trip to Cloverton though."
"Wouldn't hurt to let you get a bag or two of your own things anyway. As nice as Vanessa and Callie were to loan you some of their clothes, I'm sure you'd be happier in your own things." Con assured her. Of course, a trip to Cloverton would mean running into his parents and that promised to be unpleasant given their mood when they found out Riley would not be going home with them. He glanced back at Milton. "A trip there wouldn't hurt the temporary custody would it?"
Milton shook his head. "Now that there is a legal ruling, I think its safe until the full hearing." He opened his briefcase and pulled out a form that he handed to Con. "I don't know how feasible this will be, but it would also help if we had a parent recommendation for guardianship. Do you think her father would fill this out? I'm sure the prison would have someone there who would notarize it for you if he would."
Con accepted the piece of paper and looked it over. "I'll see what I can do." Milton rose and Con walked him to the door. As he closed the door, he looked back at Riley who was looking at him hopefully.
"Does this mean we're going to Dulcer?"
Con nodded. "We'll go tomorrow." Seeing she was about to protest, he held up his hand. "Tomorrow, Riles. You've been through enough for today and we still have to go to the police station for you to give your statement. Besides, since you are staying - and I'm very glad that you are, the first order of business is for me to get another bed in this apartment. Neither one of us is going to spend another night on that contraption someone dubbed a sofa bed. I can move some of my weight equipment around in the spare room and set it up in there."
Biff reached for his phone. "I may can help with the bed issue. Give me a minute." He moved to the kitchen to make a call. Frank used the time to broach another subject.
"Riley, what's a deveining knife?"
Riley's expression looked puzzled at the sudden question. "It's a small knife used to slit the shell of a shrimp in order to remove the black vein that runs through it. Most people just use a paring knife to do the same thing but Mom believed in using the right tool for the job."
It didn't sound like the kind of knife one would grab if suddenly attacked but Riley had told them earlier that Gina had been clutching it in her hand at the time she'd died. He'd heard about such death grips called Cadaverous spasms where a person had such a tight grip on an object at the time of death that the hand retained the position almost immediately. But why that particular knife? Then, Frank remembered Riley saying that at the time of her death, Gina had been working on a shrimp recipe for her restaurant.
"I know it would have been in the middle of the night but is it possible she was in the kitchen working on her shrimp recipe when she was murdered?"
Riley nodded. "She wasn't just planning on adding it as a new menu item, but was entering it in a contest among chefs all across the state. She was almost fanatic about it. Even though Dad and I told her we thought she had a winner, she wasn't completely happy. If she got an idea on how to improve it during the night, she would have gotten up to try it right then. Why is any of this important?"
"You said something earlier that's been bugging me. You were talking about the blood at the crime scene and said her deveining knife had blood on it. If she was holding it when she was killed, it's possible she stabbed her killer with it."
Con wasn't exactly sure where Frank was going with his questions but it reminded him of something. "Mickey didn't have any wounds on him. I remember the officers on the scene talking about they had checked him for defensive wounds and he didn't have any."
"So if she did stab her killer, it could prove that Mickey wasn't guilty."
"Too bad you weren't working the case two years ago when we could have possibly used this information." Con admitted gruffly.
"But the knife would still be in evidence lockup somewhere. DNA from the blood could still clear him and help us figure out who the real killer was."
Biff returned from the kitchen, interrupting the conversation. "I have a bed for you. My grandmother just had hip replacement surgery and had to go from a regular bed to one of those hospital type beds. She was planning on giving the frame and mattress to Goodwill but said you can have it instead. I can borrow my dad's truck and I think the four of us can manage to load it and bring it up here."
"This the same grandmother you were worried about getting a tongue lashing from?" Riley teased, her emotions stabilizing now that she knew she wouldn't be going back with her grandparents and Frank's suggestion on a way to help clear her father.
Con smiled at him. "Thanks, Kid. Not just for saving my back from another bad night of sleep but for coming to Riley's rescue earlier. I don't know what this tongue lashing business is about but I intend to let your granny know her grandson is okay in my books."
