CHAPTER 2: COUNSELING

Wednesday, October 18
2:21 am

The roadblock had netted three people who were on the Brooklyn Bridge the night Whatney jumped: an anesthesiologist, Dr. Shanfsky; the owner of the maroon Volvo, Mr. Styles; and the maitre d' of a restaurant. They joined Marsh and the Daily News truck driver in an interrogation room.

Rey rubbed his eyes, exhausted. He gazed at their roomful of non-witnesses, unable to focus on the job. Thinking instead of Olivia trying to climb a frozen tree; Serena getting in trouble with Deborah's stepfather Eric for putting marbles into his clarinet; Isabel lisping something almost incomprehensible about a new stuffed bear.

And Deborah's cold voice letting him know that the phone call was over at precisely 7:30 pm. No room for argument - the girls had to take a bath. Asking him only whether he'd moved out yet and hanging up immediately upon his negative answer.

He forced his attention back to their witnesses. To Marsh, still protesting that he hadn't even been on the Bridge that night. All of them insisting they hadn't seen a thing.

"What is it, Mr. Styles, are you scared or ashamed you didn't do anything?" Van Buren asked him. "As you can see, you're not the only one."

"What about you? What did you see?" Lennie asked the maitre d'.

"Well, by the time I got there it was over, everyone was gone."

"Look, I have a busy schedule tomorrow," said Dr. Shanfsky importantly. "If you don't let me leave, the Deputy Mayor is going to hear about it."

"What about you Romeo?" Rey asked Marsh. "You had ringside seats." Lennie suppressed a grimace. Romeo. Way to go, Rey. That'll make him talk for sure.

"I was not there, I told you that."

"He was there, in a green truck. I recognize him," said the truck driver.

"I'm sorry, but you're wrong."

"He had a Spanish girl in the seat next to him."

"A Spanish girl?" Rey repeated. Well, well, the mystery woman had an ethnic identity at least.

"Back off, he doesn't know what he's talking about," Marsh insisted, glaring at the truck driver. Son of a bitch, Rey thought. Lying, cowardly son of a bitch. Keeping up his fiction of decent faithful married man, no matter what.

"Your wife's home cooking not good enough these days?" Rey said jovially, feeling a slow burn of anger at Marsh. "You know, maybe we oughtta break the news to her. In fact I think I got your home number right here." He flipped open his notebook.

"What are you doing?" Marsh asked, alarmed.

"718 area, right?" Rey started to punch in the number. Hey, why not? Either Marsh would talk and they'd finally get somewhere on this case, or he wouldn't and his wife would learn some things she oughtta know about her husband. After all, why should this miserable bastard get to have his cake and eat it too? What the hell, you play around, you live with the consequences.

Have you moved out yet?

Deborah, I've been working, I haven't had a chance to-

"Hey!" Marsh protested.

"I bet your girlfriend could teach your wife some hot new dishes."

"He can't do this," Marsh looked at Lennie and Van Buren for help.

"Rey-" Lennie began.

"It's ringing," Rey informed Marsh.

"Gimme that-" Marsh grabbed the phone out of his hand. Rey's temper snapped and he shoved back furiously, grabbing Marsh and slamming him against the wall and getting in his face as the other witnesses started in alarm.

"You better start talking or I swear I'm gonna put your name out to the papers! Everyone will know what kind of lowlife coward you are-"

"Rey-" Lennie called out warningly.

"-how you don't have the decency or the guts to be a witness for that girl!!"

"Rey!" Lennie grabbed Rey's shoulder, kicking himself for letting Rey go this far. "Let him go." Marsh was staring at Rey, frightened and resentful. "Come on. Come on, come on." He pulled Rey off the guy, propelling him out of the IR.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Lennie asked angrily as soon as the door closed.

"You think I'm just gonna stand by and let these people lie to us?"

"That's not what this is about."

"Oh it's not? What's it about, then?" Rey challenged.

"You tell me," Lennie said quietly. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Come on, Rey, Lennie thought, setting aside his irritation and trying to project understanding instead. Whatever the hell is eating you, at least let me know what it is. Let me know why my partner's suddenly gone off the deep end so I can figure out what to do about it.

Rey stared at Lennie's unyielding expression. No, he thought. If he said it out loud, then that was it, it was real. No use pretending any more.

Like pretending was getting him anywhere.

He swallowed hard, looked away, trying to find the words.

"She left me, Lennie. She took the kids and split, she wants me outta the house."

Lennie let out his breath. He didn't know what he'd expected, but this hadn't been it. It did explain Rey's bizarre behaviour though. "Why? What happened?"

Rey looked down and there was another long silence as he searched for the words. "I broke my vows. This girl, in the Park - just a one-time thing..."

Lennie shook his head. Okay, yeah, that was bad. "How'd Deborah find out?"

"I told her."

Lennie nodded. Typical. Only Rey would do something that stupid, that insane, that... predictable, if you knew anything about him at all. "Your second mistake," he commented.

Rey didn't answer that. "You know, my old man used to chase women all the time and I swore I'd never be like him, but..."

Lennie put his hand on Rey's shoulder comfortingly. No, let's not go into self-recrimination now. Obviously Rey was feeling like crap, but this wasn't the time to go into a life history. "Listen. Why don't you bag it for tonight, huh?" he said gently.

"No, no, just... just gimme a coupla minutes." Lennie studied him for a minute, wondering whether Rey would be able to hold it together back in there. Finally nodded and headed back for the IR. He turned around before going back in.

"Hey. When you come back in there, you put that temper of yours in your pocket. You got that?" Rey nodded contritely.

Take a deep breath, Rey told himself as the door closed behind Lennie. Take a deep breath and get a grip. You're at work, you need to keep control, and you can do it. Make the most of it, since you sure as hell can't control anything else right now.

He cleared his throat, somewhat appalled at himself now that he was a little calmer. Not only had he almost beaten up a witness, he'd almost felt like breaking down when he'd finally told Lennie what was going on, fear and sorrow rising past his attempts to keep them at bay. That was unacceptable. He had better coping skills than that.

Think about that later. He looked into the interrogation room, where Van Buren and Lennie were still talking to the witnesses. Flipped the switch to hear what was going on.

"...being chased," Dr. Shanfsky was saying slowly. "By this very big man. A white man with dark hair."

"He ripped her shirt off. She was screaming," said the maitre d'. It seemed the wall of silence had finally broken.

"It looked like they were fighting," added Styles, and Rey opened the door and entered the room again. Lennie glanced back at him and he nodded slightly, indicating he was okay.

"Did she know this man?" Lennie turned back to their witnesses.

"I don't know," said Shanfsky. "She climbed over the side to get away. She was terrified."

"It all happened so fast, I, I couldn't believe it," Styles added. "She... just jumped."

"He didn't push her?" Lennie asked.

"No, sir. I think she jumped to get away from him. He was a lunatic."

"He looked right at us after she jumped," Shanfsky said. "I thought he was gonna come after me."

"Who saw him leave?" Rey asked.

"I did," answered the maitre d'. "He drove off in a green LTD. Uh... I dunno what year."

"Did anyone see how it started?" Van Buren asked them. There was a long silence.

Finally, from the corner, where he'd retreated after Rey had let him go, Marsh said slowly, "You don't need my friend's name, right?"

"No, we don't."

"They were in front of me. The VW and the LTD. She mighta cut him off, I'm not sure, but they banged fenders. The guy got out real ticked off."

"This was a traffic accident?" Van Buren asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. The guy was screaming at her to get out of her car. He got her door open and dragged her out by her hair. She ran away from him." He paused, looked down. "Past my truck."

"Used to be you cut somebody off, they flip you the bird," said the truck driver.

"Now they chase you, beat you up," said Styles.

"Why not, who's gonna stop 'em, you?" asked Rey. There was an uncomfortable silence, then Rey left the room in disgust.

===

"Detective Curtis, can I see you in my office?" Van Buren asked as their witnesses left the precinct.

Rey and Lennie exchanged a quick look that wasn't lost on Van Buren. Rey entered her office, Lennie right behind him. Van Buren narrowed her eyes at him - she hadn't asked him in, but he looked like he was staying. And Rey didn't look like he wanted Lennie to leave.

"What the hell was going on in there?" she began sternly, bracing for one of Rey's usual obnoxious assertions that whatever excess he had committed was just fine.

"I'm sorry, LT, I lost it in there. Won't happen again," he said quietly. She stared at him, momentarily taken aback.

"What happened?"

He shook his head, not meeting her eyes.

"Detective Curtis, I asked you a question."

"And I gave you an answer. I lost my temper and I apologize. It won't happen again."

"It better not. Witnesses have a nasty habit of getting upset when the police beat on them."

"It won't happen again, Lieutenant," Lennie repeated from the back of the office.

"All right. Out. Lennie, hang on a second," she said as they went to leave. She shut the door behind Rey. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Yeah," Lennie said, "And it's personal. He'll be OK. Can I go now?"

Van Buren nodded grudgingly and let him go, realizing there probably wasn't anything else she could do. Lennie had that 'closed-ranks' look to him. The same one Rey had worn a few times since Lennie fell off the wagon, come to think of it. The look that said that, whatever either of them thought about her as a person, when it came down to it she was their superior. Not somebody they would betray their partner to.

Lennie approached Rey's desk, seating himself at his own and taking out the notes from the interviews.

"So? I pass?" Rey asked quietly, head buried in his work. Lennie looked up.

"Her job to ask. She's just worried about you."

"I know. It's my own fault, anyway."

"Nobody's perfect, Rey," he said. No answer. Lennie regarded him steadily. "You sure you don't wanna go home?"

"To what?" Rey met his eyes bitterly. Lennie shook his head.

"She just left? End of story?"

"Yeah."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Move out, I guess."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Lennie fiddled with his pen for a second, then abruptly stood up. "Come on. Let's get outta here for a minute." Rey automatically started to demur and Lennie gave him a stern glare brooking no argument. Rey sighed and got up, following Lennie into an empty IR.

"So when did this happen?"

"Two days ago."

"The day you were late to the crime scene on the Bridge?" Rey nodded. "She took off in the middle of the night?" Rey nodded again. "Why'd you tell her? Did she suspect?"

"No, she had no idea."

"So why... I mean, Rey... what the hell were you thinking?" Rey shrugged again. "Does anybody else know?"

"I dunno. Probably her parents."

"You haven't told anyone else?"

"Nah."

"You been carrying this around for the last two days, and nobody knows." How typical of Rey. Although, since this was Rey after all... "What about your priest?"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"He's gonna kill me," Rey said, only half-joking. Lennie raised his eyebrows.

"What, you didn't confess-"

"Yeah, no, I confessed that I - that I broke my vows, but I wasn't supposed to tell Deborah."

"Why not?"

"He said it would do more harm than good. That I should just suck it up, lie to her to protect her and the kids." That sounded a hell of a lot more sensible than any of the priests Lennie had known when he was growing up. They hadn't been terribly practical. Rey was gazing down, fiddling with his wedding ring.

"He... he said honesty was for picture-perfect marriages, and I didn't have that any more," Rey said softly. Lennie winced. That probably hurt like hell, hearing that. For somebody as all-fired devoted to the Sacred Institution of Marriage and The Family as Rey, that had probably been devastating.

Of course, the guy was right. Of all the times for Rey to decide to rebel against the Almighty Church, he had to pick a time when the Almighty Church (or at least its local representative) was actually making sense. Again, typical. Common sense usually seemed completely lost on Rey, as far as Lennie could tell. At least when it came to balancing common sense with ethics. Well, now he was living the consequences of that kind of attitude. Poor, dumb kid.

"Rey, I'm sorry," he said. Rey cleared his throat and started to stand up, suddenly self-conscious.

"Look, I don't need to - I can handle this on my own-" Lennie put a hand on his shoulder, gently stopping him halfway up.

"Yeah, you're handling it so well you just almost beat the crap out of a witness, Rey. You're just lucky the guy's scared of his wife finding out about his little playmate, or he'd be suing you. And the City." Rey set his jaw resentfully, but sat back down. "You can't just walk around ignoring it or not dealing with it."

"What's to deal with? My wife left with the kids. She doesn't wanna talk to me. I'm supposed to move out. End of story."

"Yeah, well, it's not that simple. Welcome to the wonderful world of marital breakdown. It's a damn mess and you're gonna go nuts if you try to figure everything out on your own. Besides, you don't have to reinvent the wheel here. Millions of people have gone through it before you and there's all sorts of advice out there about what works and what doesn't. Divorce is a booming industry, you know." Lennie stopped, noting Rey's instinctive flinch at the D-word. "Hey, I'm not saying that's what's gonna happen," he backtracked hastily, not sounding terribly convincing even to himself. "I mean, maybe she's just mad right now, she'll calm down-"

"You don't know Deborah," Rey said softly, looking away. "She's... she doesn't calm down real well." He cleared his throat, crossing his arms and looking away from Lennie.

"Well... even if it comes to that, it's not that bad." Rey met Lennie's eyes in frank disbelief. "I mean - that call you got earlier, that was with your daughters, right? And I bet you had to beg for half an hour with them and Deborah set the time and Deborah ended the call." Rey pressed his lips together and looked away. "Well, there you go. She can't do that. This may come as news to you, but you got a few rights as a father, at least. She doesn't hold all the cards."

"I'm the one who-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're the bad guy 'cause you're the one who got some on the side. Just don't take the Catholic guilt too far, though, or she'll walk all over you. Take the kids, the house, every penny you own, and leave you with nothing. Here's a newsflash: she can't do that, no matter how many dips you took outside the company pool."

"She's not the enemy," Rey said quietly.

"Maybe not to you. But it sure sounds like you are, to her." Rey frowned. "Look, all I'm saying is, get some help. Get someone on your side. Like maybe talk to your priest, he sounds like he's got a brain. See if he can help out." Rey nodded. Lennie hesitated for a moment, then asked, "This fling... is that what happened the day Mickey Scott was executed?"

Rey sighed, rubbed his forehead. "Yeah."

Well, that was one mystery solved, anyway. He'd known for a long time that something had happened to Rey that day, but... damn it, when he'd tried to figure it out, this was one of the possibilities he'd considered and dismissed with an amused 'sure - when pigs fly.'

So, now he really had heard everything. Ultra-hyper-married Rey Curtis, stepping out on his wife. And how typical of him to word it in terms of breaking his vows - if there was anything that Rey was stubbornly anal about, it was truth and honesty and the solemnity of vows and oaths.

"So what happened?"

"What, you want a play-by-play? I let things go too far, that's all."

"And it was just the once?"

"Yeah."

"You ever see her again?"

"No! Of course not! God, why would I wanna-"

"Hey, hey, relax, I was just asking," Lennie said placatingly, suppressing an irate remark about how damn prickly Rey was being about this whole mess. Talking to Rey right now felt nerve racking and exhausting, like trying to balance a tray of glasses on a crowded subway. He'd had enough for tonight. They both had. Lennie looked at his watch. "It's damn late. Let's go finish up the interview notes and call it a night." Rey nodded and stood up. Lennie put a hand out as Rey opened the door.

"Listen. After we're done here, get some sleep, real sleep, and talk to somebody tomorrow. I don't care who. Me, or your priest, or a lawyer or a PBA counselor, I don't care." Rey pressed his lips together and crossed his arms and Lennie tried for a lighter tone. "I'm not saying this for you, Rey, I'm saying it for me. You've been a pain in the ass to work with the last two days. Gimme a break." Rey smiled slightly, and Lennie nodded to himself, glad to have defused some of the tension. He added gently, "I also don't want somebody who's sleep-deprived and repressing the hell outta one of the major traumas of life watching my back. Got it?"

"Yeah, got it," Rey nodded. He cleared his throat. "Uh... thanks," he said awkwardly. Lennie nodded and motioned him out of the room.

===

Wednesday, October 18
6:21 pm

"I had to, Father," Rey defended himself as he finished explaining the situation to his priest the next day. Father Morelli was still staring at him dumbfounded, as he had from the beginning. There was an uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry, Father," Rey finally said, looking away from the accusation in Morelli's eyes.

"Sorry won't give your children a stable home, will it?" Morelli finally spoke up quietly.

"No."

"How could you? What's the matter with you?"

Rey shook his head silently.

"We talked about this. Over and over again. I told you that they were more important than your guilty conscience, I told you that..." Morelli trailed off at Rey's closed expression. "You still think you did the right thing?"

"I don't know - I just know I couldn't have done anything else."

"Yes, you could have. You could have kept your mouth shut. You could have spared your wife and daughters what they're going through right now. How do you think your daughters will feel when they realize they've lost their father? How do you think Deborah feels about having her world pulled out from under her? She trusted you. She may never be able to trust you again."

"She trusted me... but she shouldn't have. It was based on a lie."

"What lie? That you cared about her enough to not hurt her unnecessarily?"

"That... that I was worth trusting," Rey said reluctantly. "And my daughters... I can't - I can't be a father, I can't be a role model, if I don't live up to what I believe in. I can't tell them they should always tell the truth and live with the consequences of their actions, if I don't do it myself."

"And you think you can be a role model now, when Deborah won't even let you see them?"

Rey shrugged. "At least I'm not living a lie. If I get to see them again, at least I can face them. I couldn't face them any more the way things were." Morelli tsk'd in disgust. "I couldn't," Rey repeated defensively.

Morelli was seized by a desire to say a few words he really shouldn't say in church. All their long conversations, soul-searching, prayers... he was so sure that he'd finally worked this out with Rey.

All right. Done was done. What mattered now was damage control.

"So. She's in Connecticut?"

"Yeah, at her parents' place."

"And she wants you to move out?" Rey nodded. "Has she said she's filing for divorce?"

"No. She hasn't said much, she won't talk to me. She... she left her wedding ring behind though." Morelli winced. That wasn't a very good sign, even if it had been done in the heat of the moment.

"All right." Morelli thought for a minute. "Since she's not talking to you, maybe she'll talk to me. Do you have her number?" Rey nodded, and Morelli picked up the phone.

"What are you gonna say to her?" Rey asked, his voice slightly alarmed.

"Ask her how she's doing. See if she wants to talk to me, at least. You've put her in a very painful position, I want to see if she's all right." Rey looked doubtful, but told him the number.

===

11:35 pm

Rey closed up the last box from the bedroom. Who would've guessed he had so much clothing?

He'd returned from Morelli's office relatively early, made himself a sandwich for dinner, and realized he had no wish to get ready for bed yet. And that he'd been putting off sorting through his things long enough. So now here he was, trying to identify what would qualify as 'his' in Deborah's eyes.

Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy to separate 'his' from 'hers' and 'theirs.' Not after nine years as a couple, six years married. The bedroom and the washroom were easy: clothing and personal toiletry items. But the rest of the house... he pondered a bookshelf in the study, mulling over his meeting with Morelli as he scanned through the titles.

He'd been asked to leave the room while Morelli talked to Deborah, like a child sent away while the grownups talked together, so he'd had a great deal of time to sit and think. Wondering what they were talking about, what Deborah was saying. Wondering if she'd spew some righteous anger at Morelli for telling him not to say anything. Part of him wishing she would, while at the same time chastising himself for being childish. None of this was Morelli's fault. Morelli had given the advice, but it had been his choice to follow it.

Forensics textbooks from college. No, Deborah probably wouldn't want those. He started putting them in the box.

He'd cooled his heels for a good hour outside Morelli's office, not even able to distract himself with the Whatney case, since that was still pretty much stalled. All they had to go on was the fact that Whatney's car had hit a green LTD, '86 or '87 model. Of which there were apparently 2,068 in the five boroughs. However, the CSU garage had also said that Whatney's car had two dents with green paint on it, so they figured that they must have bumped fenders before the Bridge. They'd spent the rest of the day knocking on doors between Henry Street, where Whatney dropped off her friend that night, and the Bridge. And they were probably going to do it again tomorrow.

A set of home-repair books, which Deborah had bought for him and only he had ever used. He started to put them into the box, then stopped. They were definitely his, but he certainly wouldn't need them. Deborah might, if anything broke down and he wasn't here to fix it. He put them back on the shelf. If Deborah resented his leaving them behind, she could always toss them out.

Morelli had finally emerged from his office to tell him that Deborah had said she would come back on Friday, provided he left their house. And that she was willing to set up an e-mail account so that they could communicate about practical matters involving their separation.

Separation.

OK, that didn't hurt as much as divorce. Dull ache, as opposed to sharp stab.

More textbooks. Economics and Computer Studies. The first had no interest for him any more, and the second was outdated. But they certainly weren't Deborah's. He added them to the box. Found a small toy purse that had been hidden behind the books - Serena's. She'd lost it months ago. She must have hidden it in the bookshelf during one of her endless games of one-child hide and seek.

Textbooks were easy, Rey thought as he started on the next shelf. But what about the classic used sci-fi novels they'd collected together when they were first going out? He didn't remember which ones he bought, which ones she bought. And which ones she liked better than he did. The Chrysalids? 1984? A whole set of Arthur C. Clarke?

"It may not even come to a formal separation," Morelli had said. "Give her time to cool down."

This is as cool as she gets, he'd thought. Deborah wasn't railing at him, wasn't screaming. Just freezing him out.

Rey decided to leave the sci-fi books where they were. Skipped over the next shelf, baby and pregnancy books. OK, difficult territory again. Religious books.

Morelli had said that he could use the church storage room for his things for now. He was also welcome to stay at the rectory - they had a room available for people undergoing family difficulties. Rey had looked down at the floor, embarrassed at the offer, and thanked Morelli, but said he preferred to go to a hotel.

"And you can see your children this weekend, after they come back." Rey had looked up, surprised. "Pick them up at noon, and bring them back home at five."

"She agreed to that?"

"Um... it took some persuading," Morelli admitted. "But she... she just wants what's best for them, same as you do."

Rey had nodded, swallowing back a jumble of emotions. He'd asked hesitantly, "How's she doing?"

"She's... she's very hurt, Rey. You have to understand that. She's very angry. And she has every right to be."

"I know."

"She's had her whole world turned upside down. You can't expect her to just cool down and let bygones be bygones, just like that."

"I know."

"How are you doing?" Morelli had asked just as hesitantly. Rey had shrugged, not sure what to say.

"Fine. Um, fine. I, I wasn't getting enough sleep for a couple days, but I slept in this morning, so... yeah, fine."

"This is a difficult thing to go through, you know."

"Yeah."

"If you need help, if you need to talk to anybody-"

"Yeah. I know," Rey interrupted quickly, not willing to go there. He wondered at himself a little. He'd confided in Morelli a lot in the last few months, unselfconsciously expressing all of his doubts and fears about lying to Deborah. Finding a measure of comfort in Morelli's guidance, even when it didn't really mesh with what he felt and believed in his heart. And yet now, he really didn't feel comfortable talking about how all of this was churning him up inside. It was enough that Morelli knew what was going on, that at least he didn't have to pretend nothing was wrong. With Morelli or with Lennie. Going into detail over "how does all of this make you feel" was unnecessary.

Rey gave the bookshelves one final glance, noting the large gaps here and there. He wondered how Deborah would feel about that when she got home.

He checked his watch. OK, late enough. He sealed up the final box, reminded himself to clear the living room and basement tomorrow, and headed for bed.

===

Friday, October 20
12:30 pm

Finally, Lennie sighed with relief. A witness. As per usual after spending days knocking on doors and stopping people on the street, Lennie felt deep sympathy for Amway salesmen and Jehovah's Witnesses. He once more vowed to himself that the next time one of them came to his door he would be just a little more polite.

Happily, their tedium had paid off. Their witness had seen the first crash, seen a big white guy get out of his car and scare the crap out of a white girl until she drove off, and gotten a partial licence as he drove off after her, crashing into one of his neighbour's cars in the process. Way to go, conscientious citizen!

Rey seemed somewhat more with it, too. Apparently he was now at a hotel, having moved out of his home the day before. His family was supposed to be coming back today - right around now, as a matter of fact. Lennie wondered if Rey's wife would bother to call him.

Probably not. In Lennie's experience, this was just not something you could forgive. And having been on both sides of the fence, the adulterer and the adulteree, he could certainly understand why. The thought of the person you loved sweating up the sheets with somebody else... that just wasn't something you walked back from. Rey was lucky his wife was willing to set up an e-mail account to 'talk' to him.

"OK, so we got a partial plate," Lennie said as he got into the car. "You wanna go send it in, see if we can track this big scary white guy down by the end of the day?"

"Huh?" Rey said, startled out of another bout of brooding.

"The case, Rey," Lennie said patiently. "The partial plate we just got."

"Yeah, sure," Rey said without much enthusiasm.

"Come on," Lennie said encouragingly. "Let's go call it in and have some lunch."

===

Saturday, October 21
12:00 pm

"DADDY!!"

The front door opened and Rey was buried in a mass of hugs, and a shrill babble of two little voices as Serena and Olivia tumbled over themselves telling him everything about the last week, all at once. Isabel just snuggled up silently, squeezing him tight. He hugged his children, happy to see them, taking reassurance in that much normalcy at least.

"Oh, sorry, Mommy," Olivia spotted Deborah emerging from the kitchen and pulled Serena out of the way, expecting her parents to greet each other the way they always did after a few days apart.

"OK, girls, let's get you into the car, it's time to go," Deborah said cheerfully, picking up Isabel's jacket and starting to get her into it. Olivia looked from her to Rey in puzzlement.

"You forgot to say hi to Daddy," she reminded Deborah.

"Hi, Rey. Come on, girls, let's go," she zipped up Isabel and moved outside to the car. "Serena, bring the diaper bag, please," she called over her shoulder. Serena headed out quickly, chattering excitedly. Olivia watched her mother go, somewhat puzzled.

Rey helped Olivia and Serena into the car as Deborah buckled Isabel into her car seat, and checked the diaper bag as she said goodbye to the girls. Diapers and wipes for Isabel, juice cups for all of them. Good. Deborah was nothing if not efficient.

"You have your cell phone on?" she asked him.

"Yeah-"

"Have fun. Bye, girls!" she waved to them, heading back into the house.

"You forgot to say bye to Daddy!" Olivia hollered, but Deborah was already inside.

"How come she didn't say goodbye?" Olivia asked once they were on their way.

"Mommy's really busy, sweetie," Rey answered casually, cursing Deborah for putting him in this position. Damn it, he didn't want to lie to his family any more. He'd had enough of that for a whole lifetime.

Then again, what could he possibly say?

I'll let them know that their father cared more about a random piece of ass than he cared about us, and that's why Mommy and Daddy aren't married any more. Happy?

===

11:54 pm

Weekend Daddy.

That's what he was now, Rey thought tiredly as he tried to get to sleep that night in the still-unfamiliar hotel bed. For the foreseeable future, anyway. And it was one hell of a role.

He'd been put off at first that Deborah only allowed five hours, but now he was glad she had. Although they'd had a great time together at lunch, a museum and a toy store, keeping three little girls busy for five hours outside of the home was exhausting. There was no "go play in your playroom" when they were getting on his nerves. There was nowhere for them to go. And there had been about twenty minor emergencies that, rather than being dealt with by sending the child in question to her room, had had to be dealt with in public. Serena deciding she wanted THAT doll. Olivia freaking out because Serena was staring at her. Isabel sticking a french fry up her nose and finding out that ketchup burned.

And the worst part was, nobody else there to take care of the other two while he dealt with the minor emergency. Resulting in more emergencies as another child got into trouble while he was busy with the first. Not that he wasn't used to handling the kids on his own, but for that long, in such artificial circumstances, without even being able to look forward to telling Deborah about their shenanigans when he got them home...

Five hours really was a long, long time to be alone with the kids. It was too long. And it wasn't long enough.

Please don't let this be the way it's going to be from now on, Rey prayed. This is no way for our daughters to grow up. Please let Deborah see that. Soon.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he had to hope for divine intervention in this, because he himself couldn't get a word in with Deborah. When he'd brought the girls home, she'd spoken to him only long enough to suggest that she take the girls to their regular morning church service, he take them to lunch, and attend the afternoon service himself. Handed him her new e-mail account and told him she'd already called him a cab, then calmly reminded the girls that Daddy had to go. He'd left with the sound of his daughters' confusion and dismay ringing in his ears.

===

Sunday, October 22
12:35 pm

"Don't you love us any more, Daddy?" Serena asked the next day, as Rey herded them back to the church after lunch.

"What?" Rey asked, startled from his task of helping Isabel up the church stairs.

"How come you're not staying with us? Don't you love us?" she asked him seriously.

Oh my god, he thought, standing stock still on the steps. Children could say the most awful things with such nonchalance. "No, that's not - sweetie, that's not what this is about."

"Are you gonna stop being our daddy?" Serena asked.

"No, sweetie, I'm still your daddy, just... I can't come home right now."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

"Were we bad?"

"NO! No, you-" he took a deep breath. OK, this had to be dealt with. Now. "Look... I have to talk to Mommy about this, OK?" he began to help Isabel climb the steps again, held the door open for all of them. "But just - just don't think it's you." He glanced up, catching sight of Deborah heading across the church lobby towards them, obviously ready to take the girls home. "Um... here, let's go into the nursery, OK? You girls can play here for a little bit while I talk to Mommy." Deborah frowned as he indicated that he was taking the girls to the church nursery.

"We need to talk," he told Deborah as she approached the nursery with Father Morelli in tow. "The girls wanna know what's going on. And I don't know what to tell them."

She frowned impatiently. "I told them you're not living with us any more and it's complicated. What else am I supposed to say?"

"Deborah, that's not good enough," Morelli said chidingly. "Your daughters may be small, but they need more of an explanation than that. They're going to want to know how long this is going to last, for one thing." Deborah opened her mouth to reply and Morelli cut her off, obviously knowing what she was going to say, "And don't say forever, because you don't know that."

"You want me to tell them what happened? You're the one who's been telling me I need to take him into account, I need to respect the father-child bond and all that crap-"

Morelli cut her off again. "However you feel about Rey right now, the fact is that you two are still parents. Your daughters have to be your priority. You can't allow your negative feelings for him to affect them. They're upset enough."

"Fine. So what do I say?"

"How about, for now, just tell them you're having problems, but that you're working them out. Be reassuring."

"In other words, lie to them."

"It doesn't have to be a lie. I realize that things don't look good right now, but you can come to counseling-"

"No way in hell."

"Deborah," Morelli admonished gently. "You're in church." Deborah made an impatient gesture of apology. "Look, whether you agree to save this marriage or not-"

"What marriage?"

"I want you to come to counseling." Deborah blew out her breath. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to urge you to do so, very, very strongly. As your spiritual advisor. I want the two of you to come to counseling so that you can work out how to best meet the needs of your children, if nothing else."

Deborah was silent for a long time, gazing at the girls as they happily played in the church nursery. Finally, reluctantly, she nodded. Rey let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Rey?" Morelli asked. "Do you agree?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"All right. So let's set something up." Rey and Deborah followed Morelli into his office.

===

Tuesday, October 24
8:00 pm

Rey forced himself not to pace as he waited for Deborah and Father Morelli to begin their counseling, trying to remember the last time he'd felt this far out of his depth.

What the hell did people do in counseling?

He'd read the pamphlet Morelli had given him, 'Marital Counseling and You,' and found it completely unhelpful. Beyond setting some basic ground rules of conduct during their sessions, there was nothing there about how this was supposed to save their marriage. Or help their daughters in any way that he could grasp.

Work, he could do. At work, he knew how to handle crises, knew what was expected of him. This... was unknown territory.

Not completely unknown, though. Deborah had been a church counselor for a few years now, so Rey was familiar with the kinds of things that came up, although he always felt somewhat impatient when Deborah told him about the people she counseled. My job sucks, would say one man, and Rey would ask Deborah why he didn't switch jobs. My husband hits me, a woman would say, and Rey would ask why she didn't just kick the son of a bitch out, charge him with assault, and get on with her life. I'm tired of taking care of my elderly father, would say another, and Rey would ask why she didn't just get somebody else to take care of him for a while, take a break, and stop whining.

Deborah always teased him that he should try being a counselor, if he thought it was that easy. And he'd tease back that she was the one with the patience - his advice would invariably be, "Get a grip."

And now here he was, in the same position as the people he'd denigrated in his thoughts.

Damn it.

He made himself stop fidgeting, tried to distract himself. Not everything was out of control in his life - for example, they'd finally arrested the guy who drove Karen Whatney off the Bridge. A big guy. A big, stupid guy. They'd tracked down the partial licence number to a man named 'Crazy Mike' McDugan, whom a neighbour referred to as a 'menace.' Which sounded about right, from the description they'd gotten from the Bridge witnesses and the guy on Henry Street. So they tracked him down to his favourite bar, and arrested the big, dumb brute.

Work, he could do. Work, he was very good at. This...

"OK, come in, Rey," Morelli opened the door and ushered him in. Deborah was already there, her expression cold and unyielding.

"Let's start off with setting some expectations," Morelli began briskly. "What are your goals with this counseling?"

"To get a divorce without harming the girls," Deborah replied promptly.

"Well, that's not going to happen, Deborah," Morelli said calmly, as Rey swallowed hard. "Divorce will harm them. Besides, we've already discussed this, and you agreed not to consider that until you've given counseling a fair chance."

"OK then, to help the girls through whatever happens."

"OK, that's a worthwhile goal. Rey?"

"What?"

"What's your goal?" Morelli asked patiently.

"To not get a divorce," he said uncomfortably, not needing to look at Deborah to guess the expression on her face. Angry impatience. The only way she'd been looking at him since this began.

"Well, then, you might as well walk right out of here-" she began heatedly.

"Deborah. You don't get to talk right now," Morelli reminded her calmly, and continued as she turned on him angrily. "You'll get your turn, but this won't work if you don't follow some basic guidelines." He turned back to Rey. "Go on."

"What? I don't have anything else to say."

"OK. Well, this is a good start," Morelli said encouragingly. Deborah and Rey stared at him with identical expressions of skeptical disbelief.

===

Tuesday, October 31
8:04 pm

"OK, remember, don't eat any of it till Mommy checks it out," Rey said, as he herded the girls back into the house at the end of trick-or-treating. Deborah greeted them, exclaiming over their loot, helping them into the house. She held the door open for Rey.

"Come in," she said unemotionally. "I've called your cab but they said it'll be about ten minutes."

"Oh - thanks," Rey stepped inside, realizing he hadn't been in his own house since he'd moved out, eleven days ago. Strange to be here as a visitor.

That was a good start, Morelli had said again at the end of their first counseling session the week before, and Rey had suppressed a smart-aleck question as to what exactly would have qualified as a bad start. Morelli had pointed out that it was encouraging that the two of them were willing to come to counseling and listen to each other, and Rey had suppressed an observation about how there hadn't been much listening to 'each other' as far as he could tell. The session had seemed to consist mostly of Deborah ranting at him for betraying her and lying to her, and him sitting through it, since he pretty much agreed with everything she said. He didn't really see what that had accomplished.

Although at least they'd discussed what to do with the kids, and how to explain the situation to them. That alone was worth the session, he supposed. And then they'd all agreed to skip counseling the next week, since it was Halloween, so that he could take the kids out trick-or-treating.

He helped Isabel off with her teddy bear costume and listened to the older girls telling Deborah about trick-or-treating, wishing he felt a part of this. Remembering the previous year, when he and Deborah had done Halloween together - helped put the kids' costumes on, taken turns walking them around the neighbourhood and answering the door for the other kids, and shared stories of what they'd seen on their rounds when they were done.

Not much chance of that today. Deborah had been uniformly distant with him, saying as little as humanly possible unless it had to do with the children. He was getting used to it. And the sad thing was, the girls were getting used to it too.

He glanced around curiously, oddly surprised to see that the house seemed pretty much the same as when he'd left. Same furniture, same pictures of the kids, same art work. Why had he expected it to look different? Oh - there was a difference. Their family portrait was gone from the living room coffee table. He swallowed, refusing to speculate as to what Deborah had done with it and whether she'd gotten rid of any other pictures of him in the house. Not that there were that many - most of their pictures were of the kids.

Oh - he spotted the portrait on a side table. She'd just moved it. Strangely comforted by that, he brought his attention back to Deborah, realizing she'd just said something.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said thank you for taking them out."

"You're welcome. Were there a lot of kids here?"

"The usual. It's tapered off a bit in the last half hour." She finished taking off Serena's witch costume and hung up their jackets. "OK, girls, say night-night to Daddy." Serena and Isabel grabbed on to him for hugs.

"Night-night, Daddy," Olivia called over her shoulder, starting up the stairs with her loot bag.

"Get back here, say a proper good night, you won't see him till the weekend," Deborah reminded her sternly. Olivia quickly ran back down the stairs and gave him a hug, turning and pulling Serena up the stairs behind her.

"I can eat more than you!" she bragged breathlessly.

"Daddy said we had to wait for Mommy to check!" Serena protested.

"Daddy's right, Livie," Deborah called up behind them. "You can count out your candy, but don't eat any till I get up there!" They both winced as the door slammed behind the girls, a faint, 'OK, Mommy,' floating down the stairs. Isabel plopped down to dig through her loot bag.

"Here, sweetie, let me see that for a minute," Rey crouched down beside her, scanning for gum and other items that Isabel was too small to eat. He rubbed his arms absently, shivering a bit. "It's cold in here," he realized.

"Yeah, I know. I haven't done the window insulation yet," Deborah sighed.

"You want me to do that?" Rey offered after a brief hesitation.

"Oh," Deborah said, slightly startled. "OK, sure. Thanks. I was kind of dreading it."

"Hon - Deborah, you don't have to - if, if you want me to do anything around the house, just ask."

"I don't need you to-"

"I know you don't need me to, but you've got enough to do taking care of the kids by yourself," he stood up, handing her several pieces of gum and two jawbreakers he'd found in Isabel's bag.

"Thanks," she smiled, a small, but genuine smile. He smiled back tentatively, then noticed his cab pulling up.

"See you Saturday."

"Rey..." he turned back. "If you want to call the girls at bedtime sometimes... that would be OK. I think they'd like that."

"Thanks," he replied after a surprised moment.

"And... they asked if you wanted to help out with their Sunday School. If you wanted to... that, that would be OK with me," she said quickly, looking away from him. She cleared her throat. "Go get your cab. Good night."

===

Tuesday, November 6
3:30 pm

This one was at least an obvious homicide, Rey thought as he read over the notes for their latest case. Nothing ambiguous about it, a woman named Shelley Ganz had been shot dead in her parking garage over the weekend. They'd done what they could at the scene and with Ganz's parents over the weekend, Rey fitting in his time with the girls in between the investigation. Then on Monday they'd started the investigation in earnest.

First thing Monday morning, they'd gone to see her ex-boyfriend. A sleaze who had apparently cheated on her with a coworker, been dumped by both when they learned about each other, and unfortunately, had an alibi. Then they'd talked to people at her workplace, none of whom had a problem with Ganz.

From there they had gone to her parents' co-op board, a "thorn in her side," her boss had said. Ganz had been the treasurer, in charge of a lot of the dirty work at the co-op, including screening prospective co-op members and approving or disapproving loans for current co-op members.

Back at the precinct, they'd scanned the application records and found some possible leads among applicants to the co-op who had been turned down. Like the scum who ran an "adult bookstore," claimed he was single but was in fact divorced with two kids, and owed $50,000 in child support.

Rey had stared at that figure, wondering what the hell was wrong with people. $50,000 - how could you owe your kids $50,000? Guys who got divorced, the least they could do was give their kids all the money they could, since they'd already screwed up their lives by not giving them the proper two-parent family every child deserved.

And there it was again. It wasn't a theoretical "they" any more. It was him now.

He'd shaken his head. No, it wasn't him. And it wouldn't be him. No matter what happened between him and Deborah, no way was he ever going to begrudge his kids one penny of what he earned. He'd brought his attention back to the deadbeat dad.

Who turned out to be another dead end. They'd thought that maybe Ganz had threatened to report him, but the scumbucket, proudly showing off a porn store that made Rey feel grimy just being inside it, had had no idea that Ganz was probably the one who'd ratted him out to his ex. Said he was going to sue her.

Too late.

"...so what do you think? The Tashjians look good to you?" Lennie broke into his thoughts.

"I guess so..." Rey said dispiritedly, glancing over financial records. Two days into the investigation, there weren't any other promising leads. The co-op was a secondary lender and some of Ganz's fellow tenants were behind on their payments, but nobody seemed desperate enough to do anything drastic. Except possibly Steven and Susan Tashjian, who owned an ad agency and who'd applied to use their co-op as collateral to renegotiate a loan. Ganz was supposed to have decided on their application three weeks ago, and according to their loan company, Beachwood Loan, if they didn't get the approval they were going to default on their loan and lose their company. Which had been in trouble for a while.

Losing a business. That could drive some people to murder. Rey grabbed his coat and prepared to rattle the Tashjians a little, see what fell out.

"Oh, by the way," Lennie mentioned as they left the precinct, "I have a friend who's looking for a sublet for his place-"

"Yeah, thanks," Rey said quickly, "That's OK. I'd rather just do a straight rent, not a sublet. I'll uh, I'll probably start looking this weekend," he put Lennie off, for some reason reluctant to talk about his housing situation. "So uh, you wanna talk to the husband or the wife?"

===

8:00 pm

"Where's Father Morelli?" Rey asked Deborah as he entered Morreli's office that night.

"I don't know-" the door opened and the church secretary poked her head in.

"Father Morelli said to tell you he's been held up," she said distractedly. "He'll be here in about twenty minutes. Make yourselves at home," she waved at the chairs and ducked back out.

"Oh, OK. Thanks," Rey said to her rapidly retreating back. He and Deborah glanced at each other, off-balance. Then, unexpectedly, Deborah smiled slightly.

"You don't think this is some kind of ploy, do you? Part of marital therapy, get the two people in a room alone together, see what happens?" Rey chuckled, somewhat startled at her humour.

"Hey, we were OK the whole two weeks. We oughtta tell him that."

"You think we'll get stars or something, for good behaviour?" Deborah asked, and he smiled. There was a brief pause.

"How, uh... how've you been?" she asked hesitantly. They really hadn't talked, beyond giving each other information about the children as he picked them up or dropped them off.

"OK..." he fidgeted, unsure of what to say.

"What happened with that new case you caught over the weekend?" Rey looked at her questioningly. "You said you were doing interviews on a new case on Sunday after church? How's it going?"

"Oh, yeah, the Ganz case," he answered, grateful for a topic to grab on to. He started to tell her about their best suspect so far, Steven Tashjian. Deborah frowned slightly as he finished.

"So you think this was over a loan?"

"We don't know. The Tashjians are about to lose their business, and the vic was probably gonna stop them from using their co-op as collateral."

"Even if he killed her, he'd have to convince the rest of the board to let him use it."

"Looked like the vic was the only one on the board who could say no."

"Not much of a motive," Deborah said doubtfully. Rey shrugged. Tashjian had pointed out the same thing, and he was right. Rey debated telling Deborah the rest of the story; that they'd noticed that Tashjian's regular parking spot was the space where Shelley Ganz was killed. That they suspected maybe he meant to kill his wife instead, and collect on her insurance money. And Shelley Ganz, who looked a lot like Susan Tashjian and drove the same kind of car, just happened to park in the wrong spot that day.

No, he decided, there was no need to go relating tales of couples who were doing so badly they put out a hit on each other. That just might put a rather abrupt end to this unexpectedly pleasant conversation they were having. He cast about for another safe topic, hoping they could keep things OK until Morelli showed up. Wishing he could ask her what was going on inside her, why she seemed to be thawing towards him, but knowing that probably wouldn't do anything other than make her defensive.

"So, uh, how's Isabel's ear infection?"

"Oh, it's better. Thanks for catching it. I just thought she was being a pain just for the fun of it."

"She do OK at the doctor's?"

"Well, you know Isabel. Dr. Merritt is not her favourite person."

"She didn't bite him again, did she?"

"No," Deborah smirked, "Not this time. He still looked like he wanted to examine her from across the room though," they shared a laugh. Rey caught his breath, hiding his reaction at seeing an expression other than distance or anger on Deborah's face.

Hold on, he told himself sternly. Just because she's not clawing your eyes out right now, doesn't mean there's not a long way to go to get back what you once had.

But dear God, it felt good.