Nick was having a hell of a day. After the most unbelievable weekend of fairies and magic and love and heartbreaking tales and whatever else, he was looking forward to going back to a bit of normalcy. Only nothing really felt normal. How could it? How could he just get up and go for a run and shower and dress and have breakfast like any other day when he could hear the trees sing to him? They sang while he ran. He could tell which ones were underwatered, which ones didn't like the wind, which ones were starved for sunlight, which ones were weighed down by bird nests, which ones were flourishing. They all had a different song and he somehow knew what they all meant.
He ate breakfast at his dining table instead of in the kitchen again, feeling inexplicably drawn to that live edge wood again. That song made him smile. It gave him that connection to the fairy realm and to Jennifer. Reminded him it was real. It was all real. Or else his delusions had fully taken over. Either way, it was nice to be connected to it still.
But as soon as he got to Homicide that morning, his coffee was interrupted by a man named Drew Preston screaming about how his wife was missing and he knew something had happened. Allie called Nick over to tell him that Ronnie at the morgue had called with a Jane Doe with ligature marks. That left Nick and Allie to be the ones to bring Drew Preston to the morgue.
The dead woman on the slab was not Preston's wife, Rebecca, but rather their girlfriend, Sophie Maine. Homicide spent the rest of the day learning all about the swinger's scene.
Rhys, of course, was far too interested in it. Allie made snide remarks about it, proving her discomfort with the whole thing. Nick and Duncan, being older and more experienced knew better than to blink an eye at the sexual proclivities of other people. Nick had cut his teeth as a detective in Vice. He'd seen plenty of things that would have turned Allie Kingston bright red.
Wolfie handed out assignments, sending Duncan to the house of the swingers party, Allie to do research, and Rhys and Nick to take a look at their murder victim's flat. But on their way out, Nick was accosted by the last person he wanted to see. Juliette Gardiner, reporter from the Tribune.
So Rhys went alone to Sophie's place and Nick was stuck having coffee with a bloody journo, sticking her nose in things he did not want to discuss. Especially now. Dane Majors had always been a sore subject for him. The murder of Tahnee Majors had been one of the more horrific things he'd seen, particularly that early in his Homicide career. And Tahnee's father, Graham Procter, was just the sweetest man. He reminded Nick of his own dad in a lot of ways, gentle and stoic except when it came to his family. Bringing justice to Dane Majors for killing Graham's daughter was one of Nick's prouder moments, knowing he could look at Graham and know he'd found some solace in Dane being put behind bars for the rest of his life.
And now, knowing Dane's past, hearing from Bernice what Dane had done to her son! Two single parents whose children Dane Majors had taken away. A grieving father that Nick had been able to help and now a grieving mother who was Jennifer's dearest friend and the leader of her people. Nick had only met Bernice for that short time she'd told her story, but he'd instantly liked her. She had a strength and a warmth that seemed to Nick the perfect qualities in a queen. No wonder Jennifer adored her. But Dane Majors had killed her boy, Josh. And knowing what Dane had done when he couldn't have been older than about fourteen when he'd grown up to murder his wife not fifteen years later? Dane Majors was the last thing Nick wanted to talk about.
Only here was a journo who only wanted to talk about the Dane Majors and try to flirt with Nick in between. Nick did not want Juliette. Far from it. Perhaps if he'd not met Jennifer, he might be interested. But he had met Jennifer. And he was very much on the verge of falling in love with her if he wasn't careful. She was a fairy, he'd learned, and what that meant for any potential future for them was uncertain. But Nick still wanted her and not Juliette. He just had to play nice for the journo for now.
Juliette explained to Nick that she had an anonymous source who wished to remain anonymous so she'd met in him a car park where he'd given her some documents. Documents that insinuated that the evidence that convicted Dane Majors was planted by police. And that matched what Dane Majors said about being set up.
It took everything in Nick to keep calm. He was not an effusive man by any stretch, but the very suggestion that he or Bruce Dalton, his boss at the time, had done anything unethical was just offensive. Nick had found that golf club. Bruce sent him back to the Majors house during the trial, since they didn't have a murder weapon and the prosecutor was getting nervous. Nick had gone. Nick had found the golf club stashed up on the roof, of all places. He wouldn't have looked on the roof except it was one of very few places they'd not searched before, and he combed every inch of that bloody house. The judge ordered a new trial to present the new evidence. Dane had been convicted fair and square. That's all there was to it. He told Juliette so.
But she still pushed back. She wanted to talk about it more. "Look, I don't want to interrupt any more of your workday. But maybe later after your shift? Fancy getting a drink and maybe discussing some theories?"
Nick looked into her shining dark eyes, her delicate features, her shiny brown hair. She was a lovely girl. But Nick was starting to feel embarrassed for her. "No, I don't think so. But if your source gives you anything credible, you can give me a call. You've got my number."
Juliette seemed to take that just fine. She smiled and nodded and finally left him be. But as soon as she was gone, Nick was left with a sinking feeling. What if she was onto something? He took out his mobile and found an old number he'd not used in a long time. He asked Bruce Dalton to come by and have a chat.
Luckily Bruce was available. He came right up to Homicide, and Nick had a fresh cup of coffee waiting for him.
They had a bit of small talk about the coffee for a moment, catching up after such a long time. But Nick did not have time to waste today. "I've had a journo asking questions about the Dane Majors case," he began. "She thinks she might have something."
Bruce scoffed, "She's barking up the wrong tree, mate. That case was open and shut. Clear conviction there."
Nick couldn't let it go so easily though. "You're sure there's nothing in the evidence or procedure to worry about?"
"No, we're good," Bruce insisted. He was so breezy about it. Seemed to almost find it laughable.
Again, Nick was not so convinced. Juliette had a source, which was more than Dane Majors with his protestations of innocence ever had. And Bruce wasn't taking that seriously. Perhaps Nick was overreacting. But then again, maybe he wasn't.
"Leave it be, Nicky. There's nothing to worry about," Bruce said. He put his half-drunk coffee down and patted Nick on the shoulder.
He didn't like that. Didn't like being called Nicky like he was still a young man. He was just shy of forty. Long past his days as 'Nicky.'
Thankfully Nick got to spend the rest of the day on the phone with Sophie Maine's employer doing some proper police work. Interviews and research and following leads wherever he could find them. He didn't think about Dane Majors at all again till it was time to knock off. Because by that time, he knew he had to make another phone call.
Nick was glad that Graham Procter was free to see him. The two men had a drink together at the pub in Graham's neighborhood where they'd met many times before. Nick tried to see Graham at least once a year, check in on him, make sure things were alright. But this time, he had to warn him that a journalist might come bother him about Dane Majors.
It hurt to have to bring it all back to Graham. It was an unkindness for this all to be dragged up again, for Graham more than anyone else. Nick almost wanted to tell him about Josh, find someway to say that he'd spoken to a mother who lost a child to Dane that they'd never known about before. But there was no way to explain that, even leaving out the fairy realm bit of it. And it probably wouldn't help Graham to know that Dane had murdered someone else long before he'd even met Tahnee. It would just cause his mind to swirl with all the what ifs. What if they'd known that Dane had murdered a child when he was young? What if he'd been arrested back then? What if he'd never met Tahnee at all? What if, what if? No, that didn't help anyone now.
When the beers were drunk and Graham had assured Nick that he'd never had a doubt about Dane killing his daughter or about the evidence the police had found and the DPP had presented, Nick finally headed home. He was glad he had the night off while Rhys and Allie were sent to that swingers party. Rhys would probably have a good time. And it might be fun to tease Allie a little for being a prude when she inevitably complained about it tomorrow.
Late that night, Nick shut off the telly and cleaned up his dinner dishes and turned out the lights of his house. He took a detour to the dining room to brush his hand on the table. It sang sweetly in appreciation. Nick smiled and went to bed feeling as though things might look a bit nicer in the morning.