Chapter Thirteen—Interrogate

Edward entered the station with determination to get answers and the coats back. What drove someone to steal from those that helped others? He hated the holiday but he wasn't capable of taking it from someone.

He had some theories, but first he had to take a closer look at the suspect's file. With a little trepidation, he continued further into the building. He expected Bella's stepbrother Seth, but not the whole freaking Swan-Clearwater-Black-Whitlock Clan. Admittedly, he stopped and swallowed when he saw them all. He knew it was stupid, not one of them knew that he had kissed Bella.

Something told him she wouldn't share something like that.

"Detective Cullen?" a huge man said, holding out his hand. "Emmett Swan." Charlie's son and Bella's older brother, he looked like his father but built like a bulldozer.

"Mr. Swan," Edward said as he returned the hard grip. At six-foot-three, there were only a few men he had to look up at. Emmett was one of them. "It appears the whole gang is here."

Emmett chuckled as he nodded, but was quick to end it. "How is she?"

"Pretty broken up," Edward stated. "Charlie was cleaning up when I left." Bella was still asleep, too. Even then the tears hadn't stopped, still falling as she fitfully slept.

Emmett introduced him to his wife Rosalie. Leah, Bella's stepsister was there, very pregnant, along with her husband Jacob. Seth and the woman he met at the mall earlier greeted and questioned him. Jasper Whitlock, a prosecutor he knew, introduced himself as Renee's son and Bella's half-brother from her second marriage. His wife Alice was already on the way to see Bella.

He told himself, she had her family. She'd be fine.

Most of them left to check on Bella, while those in law enforcement wanted to wait for more information. As he walked to his desk for the case files, he noticed how everyone looked at him and whispered behind his back. He wasn't sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it had to wait.

He had someone to question.

The captain called him into the office before he had a chance, despite the fact that he was itching to talk with one of the suspects. Garrett joined Alistair to question Mike while Ben worked to get more information on the suspect.

"The mayor and commissioner are on my ass to arrest his accomplice," he stated. "Now there's some rumors you're harboring feelings for the latest victim."

Edward stilled and wondered how something like that reached the man. Marcus Williams had been law enforcement for over forty years. It shouldn't have surprised him.

"I assure you, I can do my job."

The old man nodded and fell back into his chair with a sigh. "I never met the woman, but I've heard of her. If his buddy decides to retaliate on our suspect's behalf, I shouldn't have to tell you that we have a problem."

"We'll find him."

From what Felix and Ben gathered already, the suspect, a one Eric Yorkie, had several aliases and a record. There was an arrest for a few B&E's six years ago in Los Angeles. Spent two years in the pen, and Ben was already on the phone trying to find out more and who were possible accomplices.

He exited the captain's office and headed to where Eric Yorkie waited. Out in the hallway, watching the suspect through the two-way mirror were several intimidating men. Garrett, Jacob, Seth, and Emmett, as Jasper stood nearby but on the phone.

He knew it was pointless to tell them to leave. They wouldn't listen.

"Get anything about the other suspect from Mike?" Edward asked Garrett.

"Alistair is still sitting on him, making sure there's nothing else," Garrett stated, crossing his arms. "He gave us everything he knew. I honestly believe he was scared of Yorkie."

"Yorkie," Emmett snorted. "Goes to show you looks can be deceiving."

"Fuck yeah," Jacob said, shaking his head. "He looks like some geek that spends all his time sitting at a computer playing games."

They all watched as the man sitting behind a table, handcuffed hands on it, smiling at all of them. He knew someone was watching him and he seemed to enjoy that fact. He wore a simple grey suit, glasses and every dark hair was in perfect place. He was unassuming and most would forget about him within seconds from looking away. As he intended, Edward had no doubt.

Garrett opened up a file. "According to his file he spent three years in the army, discharged after a serious injury left him with only seventy-five percent mobility in his left arm. Before that, his childhood showed history of abuse, most reported by neighbors from both parents. In and out of foster homes after his father died in a bar fight. He entered the system permanently at thirteen when his mother refused to press charges against her alleged pimp for hitting him. As soon as he was old enough, he signed up for the army."

"Maybe he has something against Uncle Sam," Emmett suggested.

Edward shook his head. "His records were exemplary but the accident that injured him was questionable."

"He joined to train," Garrett stated. "Just long enough to strengthen and hone his skills."

"Possibly. Which may explain why all those moves were so familiar," Edward said. "It's everything I learned, too." If he was a few years younger, he might have been able to make it over the fence, too.

"Doesn't explain why he went after people like Bella," Jasper stated, slipping his phone in his pocket. "That was Charlie. She had a panic attack after she woke up from a nightmare. They're trying to convince her to go home with him."

"She won't go anywhere," Emmett said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Someone will have to stay with her for a few days." He turned to Edward. "Find out why he did this to my sister and where those coats are."

"Will do," Edward said as he grabbed another file he asked Garrett for earlier. "You ready?" His partner nodded and opened the door.

The asshole only smiled and fell against the back of his chair, looking relaxed. "So did Mike talk? What did he tell you?"

"That's not important right now, Mr. Yorker," Garrett said, taking one of the chairs across from the suspect.

"It's Yorkie," Eric sneered and continued to spell it out to them. Edward stood back, leaning against the wall and watching. The suspect turned his gaze on him. "I know who you are. Do all of them know you had your tongue down her throat before?" The fucker stuck out his own. "Does her ass feel as good as it looked?"

If they didn't know, they do now, Edward thought. He only shrugged and kept his expression neutral. "How would you know about that? Hell, how do you know we were going to question you on Miss Swan?" Garrett asked, banging his hand on the table.

It was enough to startle Eric. He shared a look with Edward. Eric mimicked Edward's nonchalance and sat back again, adding a smile. "Is Little Miss Christmas crying?" He leaned a little closer. "Is she all broken up about it?"

No one said a word for a few minutes, but Edward broke the silence. "This was about breaking their spirit, wasn't it?"

Eric said nothing, but the twitch over his left eyebrow was enough to answer Edward's question.

Edward grabbed the other chair, flipped it around, and sat. His arms rested on the top of it, his eyes on Eric.

"There's one thing you didn't consider," Edward said after another bout of silence.

Eric rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, what's that?"

"People like her and the others, it would take a lot more to break their spirits. For every one of them, there are at least another five others like them. Did you know that the Johnson's, the lovely couple that donated two dozen turkeys to the shelter and had all the food baskets and their gifts stolen, had hundreds of people donate canned goods, food, bread, and blankets. This year, they're going to be able to feed three times as many people from last year."

Edward saw the tightening in Eric's jaw, the flare of his nostrils as sweat beaded across his brow.

"The little family that had their gifts stolen after they donated to a couple of orphans, not only had Miss Christmas donate decorations, a tree, and gifts, others heard about the story and delivered clothes, shoes, books and someone anonymously started college funds for each child."

"The list goes on and on," Garrett said, pulling out pictures from the file he held. "Every victim had others help them as they helped others."

"People like this, you can't break their spirit that easily," Edward said, shaking his head. "All you did was give more reasons to believe in it."

Eric shook with anger as his eyes wandered over the pictures of happy faces, some crying but it was obvious not from sadness or hurt. The photo papers crinkled and tore under his grip.

"Why them?" Garrett asked.

Eric didn't bother to look up, only spat out the words. "Where were they or someone like them when I spent my Christmases hiding in the closet? Huh? Where the fuck were they then?"

Edward was exhausted when he finally reached the sanctuary of his apartment building. After booking Eric Yorkie, they'd gone after his accomplice Lawrence Taylor, another former foster brother. The DA would go easy on Mike since he told them everything but would remain on parole for a few years.

He ached to see Bella, but it was too late to drop by. As he unlocked his door, he heard hers open.

"Tell me," she whispered. "Did you find them?"

Edward sighed and shook his head as he turned to look at her. "The bastard had his buddy shred them in a chipper. They worked part-time for a landscaper."

She rubbed her arms, as tears slipped down her cheeks. "I know it's stupid to be so upset about them."

He stepped closer, unable to deny the pull. "It's not."

"They're just coats," she murmured. Edward saw how close she was to breaking down again. He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.

"They weren't," he said softly. "They symbolized life to you."

She nodded. "Why would someone do something like this?"

Edward shook his head. "I don't know."

She nuzzled his chest, eliciting a shiver of awareness in him. Dressed in only a camisole and shorts, she was pleasantly warm and soft.

"It's cold out here," he said and walked her backward into her warm, fragrant apartment. He kicked the door closed. "It smells good in here." She smelled good, too.

Her hands held onto the sides of his torso, grasping tighter. "Hot chocolate," she said as she looked up at him. Her eyes were soft, but still glistening from her tears. "Want a cup?"

He sighed, "That probably isn't a good idea."

She gave him a small smile. "Sometimes a cup is just a cup, Edward. Doesn't mean there's any strings attached to it. I'm offering it freely, as I have all along."

Something told him she was offering much more than a cup of hot chocolate.

"All right.