Chapter Two
Thank you all so much for your very sweet comments! Hope you enjoy chapter two!
-o-o-
Hailey and Jay get the three kids settled in the break room after an agonizingly silent, tense car ride. Jay digs through the refrigerator for some child-friendly snacks, and ultimately settles on texting Platt for help.
"I'll be right back," Hailey says vaguely, her eyes hazy and unfocused.
She's gone before he can say anything.
He finds himself alone with three terrified children - all staring at him.
"You guys like cookies?" he asks awkwardly. "I think we may have some cookies downstairs."
None of the kids respond. Lizzie is watching him with open hostility while one of the boys cries, quiet but messy.
Jay finds a box of tissues on the counter and kneels down, handing it to him. The kid looks to his sister, as if asking for permission. Jay is relieved when she nods.
"I know everything is really scary right now," he says, keeping his voice calm and even and soothing. "I promise you, you guys are safe here, and we are going to find the person that did this to your dad."
Both little boys look to their sister again. "Good," she says finally.
Her eye is painfully swollen, and Jay flinches in sympathy. "Do you want some ice?" he asks, gesturing towards it. "We've got some frozen peas. It'll make it feel a little better."
"It's not a big deal," she says defensively.
Jay nods slowly. "Did that happen today?" he asks. It looks fresh, like the bruising hasn't quite set yet.
"This morning," Lizzie says. She avoids his eyes. "I was playing volleyball with some of my friends. At the Y. It doesn't even hurt."
Jay knows that's not true - either the volleyball story, or the idea that a bruise like that could not hurt - but he lets it go.
"Okay," he says. "Well, if you change your mind, you let me or Hailey know, okay?"
Lizzie doesn't look at him, but she nods.
"I'm gonna go see if we can find you guys something to eat, okay?" Jay says. "I'll be right back."
No one says a word, but Lizzie gives him a small nod, tightening her grip on her little brothers.
-o-o-
Jay heads for the locker room first. He's been concerned about Hailey for weeks - the distance in her eyes, the vacant smiles, the vague responses to his texts - but ever since they'd found those kids, she'd been practically shaking, and his worry has multiplied.
As soon as he opens the door, he hears the sound of retching, and freezes.
She's hunched over the garbage can, one hand holding her hair away from her face, her body convulsing as she heaves.
He watches her straighten up and pull a paper towel from the dispenser with trembling hands. She doesn't seem to have heard him, and so he stands there, unable to move, as she chokes back a sob and splashes water on her face.
She jumps when she looks in the mirror and sees him staring.
He's not used to seeing her like this. Hailey is his rock, and over the last few turbulent, traumatic years, he's sometimes felt like she's the only thing holding him together.
And now that she's standing here, clearly falling apart right in front of him, and he has absolutely no idea what to do.
"You need some water?" he asks finally. He tries to focus on something concrete, something he can do for her.
She shakes her head, mute, then quickly turns away.
"Hailey, what's going on?" he asks gently.
"I'm just - not feeling good, I guess," she says, opening her locker. "Stomach thing, maybe. I don't know."
He watches her search the top shelf. She's still shaking.
"Look," he starts, but the door opens again.
"Hey, there you are," Adam says. "Voight wants you to talk to the daughter. See what you can get."
He senses the tension, glances from Hailey to Jay and back. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Hailey says. "All good."
She slams her locker door, strides out into the bullpen.
Jay is again left watching her walk away. The anxiety churning in his gut grows stronger and stronger.
-o-o-
Ruzek takes the two little boys to a nearby playground, and Hailey pulls up a chair next to the couch, a few feet from Lizzie. Jay takes a seat at the table, a respectful distance away. He's not sure who he's trying to help here - Hailey or Lizzie.
The girl says she's sixteen, but she looks much younger, and scared, and alone. She keeps running her hands through her long blond hair, fingers anxiously playing with the knots and tangles.
"Can you tell me again what happened today?" Hailey asks. She's so gentle with Lizzie, so sweet and caring, and Jay can't help admiring the way she connects so effortlessly.
"I told you," Lizzie says. "My dad was arguing with a man in the living room. Alex and Jamie and I were upstairs in our rooms. When I heard the gunshot, I ran into their room and we hid in the closet."
"Did you know the man who was arguing with your dad?" Hailey presses.
"I didn't see him," Lizzie says. "We were upstairs the whole time."
"Did you recognize his voice, maybe?" Hailey asks.
Lizzie shrugs. She looks up at Jay, then darts her eyes away. "I don't know who he is."
"Did this happen a lot?" Hailey asks. "Your dad arguing with people?"
"Sometimes," Lizzie says vaguely. "I don't know, maybe."
"Did you hear what they were arguing about?" Hailey tries. Lizzie shrugs. "Work, maybe?"
Lizzie shakes her head. Hailey glances at Jay. He raises an eyebrow - this kid's hiding something.
Hailey gives him a tiny nod - she knows.
"Where are my brothers?" Lizzie asks. "I need to take them home."
Hailey glances at him again. "Jay, can you give us a minute?" she asks.
He doesn't want to. She looks so fragile, like she could fall apart at any minute, and he wants to be there if she does.
But he trusts Hailey. He knows she can handle herself, and so he smiles and nods, and leaves her alone.
-o-o-
She's in that room for almost an hour.
Jay sits at his desk, trying to focus on researching their victim, but he can't stop himself from glancing in the direction of the breakroom every few seconds. He's alert for the sound of the door opening, but it doesn't come.
He fights the urge to walk by, to check in. She's in there talking to a teenage girl. A teenage girl who has just lost her father suddenly, violently. It's going to take some time.
And it's fine. He doesn't know why he can't seem to settle. Everything is fine.
Ruzek returns, looking around the empty bullpen. "Where is everyone?" he asks warily.
"Atwater and Burgess went to the morgue," he says. "Hailey's still talking to Lizzie."
Ruzek glances towards the breakroom. He looks worried too, and it only compounds Jay's anxiety.
"Kids tell you anything?" Jay asks.
Adam shakes his head. "Mom left a few years back. Seems like Lizzie's really the one who takes care of them."
Jay nods sadly. Those poor kids, all alone.
He's pretty sure, given the bruise on Lizzie's face, that their dad wasn't such a great guy. But still.
"Platt calling social services?" he confirms.
"Yeah," Ruzek says. "The boys are hanging out at the front desk with her now. She says Blair found an emergency placement for all three of them."
"That's good," Jay says. At least they can stay together.
"Yeah," Ruzek agrees.
Jay glances at the breakroom again. Still no movement.
-o-o-
When the social worker arrives, Jay knocks on the breakroom door.
Hailey has moved to sit on the couch beside Lizzie, and she startles when he walks in. Her eyes are red, like she's been crying. Lizzie's are too.
"Um - CPS is here," he says dumbly. "Blair. She's downstairs with Alex and Jamie."
Hailey nods rapidly, then turns back to Lizzie. "Blair is our social worker," she explains, her voice hoarse. "She's going to take you and Alex and Jamie to a foster home for now, and she'll help you find a more permanent place in the next few weeks."
"Why can't we just stay in our house?" Lizzie asks.
"I'm so sorry, Lizzie, we can't let you do that," Hailey explains gently. "You're too young to live on your own."
"Can we stay together?" Lizzie asks, looking back and forth between them, panic in her eyes.
"Yes," Jay says. "They found a house for all three of you. You're going to stay together."
Lizzie still looks scared, but she nods.
"I'll come see you tomorrow," Hailey promises her. "It's gonna be okay."
"Okay," Lizzie whispers.
Hailey puts an arm around her, guides her out the door.
-o-o-
By the time she gets back upstairs, the team has regrouped. Kim sticks a DMV photo of their victim to the board, while Atwater fills in notes from the ME's report.
"What have we got?" Voight asks, as Hailey crests the staircase.
"Daniel Alonso," Kim says, pointing to the headshot. "38-years-old, worked as a mechanic at Gomez Garage. No priors. He's a single father - three kids, Lizzie, age 16, Alex, and James, both six, all home at the time of the murder. Cause of death was a single gunshot to the chest."
"All right, so what do we know about this guy?" Voight asks.
Rojas shrugs. "Guys at the garage said he was a nice guy, liked to get drunk on payday. They didn't remember any problems with anyone."
"Financials were clean," Jay adds. "And nothing at the house indicated a robbery or break-in."
"The daughter said she heard her father arguing with a man, and then a gunshot?" Voight says.
Hailey looks like a deer caught in the headlights. "Yeah," she says, voice hoarse. "She didn't see anything, didn't recognize the voice."
"She didn't give you anything at all?" Voight pushes. "She had no idea why someone would come into her house and shoot her father?"
Hailey stands frozen, her eyes blank and impenetrable. It's a posture Jay's seen her adopt many, many times when she's trying to keep something - her emotions, the truth - in check. He recognizes it from a few weeks ago, when he'd tracked her cell and followed her to South Side Hustler territory.
This doesn't concern you.
"She's a scared kid," Hailey says. "She just lost her father. I'll try again tomorrow, see if she remembers anything."
Voight looks skeptical, but he nods. "All right, let's call it a night then. We'll dig back into Alonso in the morning."
Hailey takes off for the locker room before Voight can say anything else.
-o-o-
He tries to call her that night but she doesn't pick up.
For some reason, all he can think about is the image of her in those photos, the ones he'd pulled from the secret file that nobody was supposed to know about. Her cheeks painted black and blue, her eyes empty and haunted.
You went to Rafferty behind my back, she'd said, like the person who was hurting her was him and not Ronald Booth. Like the unforgivable thing had been trying to protect her, rather than beating her within an inch of her life.
He knows that whatever she and Lizzie talked about today was painful. Knows this case is treading on a sore spot that was only recently dug up. But, as usual, while he knows Hailey would know what to do, he's at a loss.
Twenty different times you've figured out a way to tell me, don't get too close.
He heats up a frozen pizza, eats it in silence on the couch. He tries to call her again.
She doesn't pick up.
-o-o-
"I'm gonna go talk to Lizzie," Hailey says, first thing in the morning. He hasn't even had his first cup of coffee yet.
"Okay," he says anyway, grabbing his jacket. "You think she might remember something?"
Hailey hesitates. "I thought I'd go alone," she says, not looking at him. "She trusts me. I thought I could maybe get her to talk."
It should be nothing. Of course she can go talk to a witness by herself - a scared teenage girl, no less. But something about it doesn't sit well with Jay.
"How about I tag along?" he offers lightly. "I'll sit in the car."
"I think it would be better just me," she says, with a stiff smile that shuts down the conversation.
"Hailey," he says, lowering his voice. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," she promises. She gives him a blank, empty smile. "I'm okay," she says, and he's so tired of hearing those words come out of her mouth.
She squeezes his arm, then disappears down the stairs.
Jay watches her go, feeling like he's powerless to stop whatever's going to happen.
-o-o-
Jay sits at his desk, jumping at every sound, eyes immediately darting towards the stairs.
It's never Hailey.
"Halstead," Voight says quietly as he walks by his desk. He nods almost imperceptibly at his office, and Jay follows him there, closing the door behind him.
"You hear from Hailey?" Voight asks, leaning against the radiator.
Jay sighs, suddenly exhausted. He lets himself collapse onto the couch.
"She went to go talk to Lizzie," he says.
"She tell you what they talked about yesterday?" Voight probes.
Jay shakes his head. She hasn't told him anything about anything.
Voight's silent for a long, long time. Finally, he says. "I'm worried about her."
His first instinct is to cover for her. To reassure his boss - their boss - that she's fine, that she's solid, that everything's good.
But he looks up at his gruff, hardass sergeant's concerned eyes, and he can't manage the charade. "Me too," he says.
"I know you two…" Voight starts, then seems to change his mind. "Has she talked to you about what happened with Darius Walker?"
"No," Jay says, and feels an instant wave of guilt crash over him. He knows she's pushing him away - but he also knows that if the situation had been reversed, she would have found a way to get through to him.
He needs to find a way.
No matter what.
-o-o-