Wednesday, December 20
9:32 pm
"So... how was LA?" Deborah asked the next night, after Rey had put the kids to bed. He'd landed in New York that morning and asked to come and spend some time with the girls before their bedtime. He picked up a Barbie that had been left on the floor, put it in its proper bin.
"Good. Well, you know, we got what we went for."
"Think Grant'll be convicted?"
"Yeah, he should be. He lied about being with her, has a record for violence, motive - yeah, should be easy." Rey looked around the living room. No other toys lying around, everything tidy. He leaned tiredly against the couch.
"So what did you do over there?"
"Oh, you know, chased down leads, waited for a court order.... hung out."
She smiled. "With the stars?"
"That part's not that thrilling, believe me. Although Lennie was pretty excited about meeting Shane Perry."
"Shane Perry? That's interesting." Rey nodded. He supposed it was. He glanced around the living room, thinking tiredly that he and Lennie were going to have to do a hell of a lot of work on the Triandos case in the next few days, trying to track down Mrs. Triandos' movements the night her husband was killed. What a pain.
Although maybe the case would be interesting. Maybe there would be a couple of twists to it, like the twist they'd found out from Jamie Ross about the Whatney case. Apparently kindly old Mr. Dorning had not, after all, hired Randall the Candle to torch his own factory, then hired Crazy Mike McDugan to take out Karen Whatney. It had been his son, who'd used part of his father's insurance money to help start up his own business. Very nice. Wasn't there some Shakespeare line about how sharper than a serpent's tooth was an ungrateful brat or something...
"...any other behind the scenes stuff? Did you get to see anything being filmed?" Deborah's voice jarred him out of his train of thought and he brought his attention back to her. Man, he should get some sleep, he was starting to zone out.
"Yeah, we talked to Eddie Newman, the vic's ex-husband? He's directing a kid's movie. With Shane Perry."
"Ooh, that'll make the girls really excited when it comes out."
"Yeah, Daddy interrogated the director of their new movie," they chuckled together. "Oh, and I got to see a screenplay." Deborah's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Yeah, this movie executive asked me to read it over, it's a cop thing." He suddenly felt a little uneasy talking about it. Deborah gazed at him, sensing something off.
"Why you?"
"Inside view, realism and all that," he said, trying to keep his voice casual.
"Rey?" He looked up at her. "That's it?"
"Yeah." She pursed her lips slightly, looking down, and he sighed. "What are you trying not to ask?"
"I'm just wondering why you look like you feel guilty, but feel like you shouldn't feel guilty."
There was a short silence, broken by Rey chuckling tiredly. "You... why didn't you go into the NYPD?" He shook his head. "Nothing happened. This woman was just helping us out getting in to see people at the studio, and she asked if I could take a look at the script. Lennie said she should take me out to dinner. We went to dinner, and I got the script from her."
"And?"
"And when she went to leave... we kissed. That's all."
There was a profound silence, then Rey stood to go.
"Where are you going?" Deborah asked. Rey glanced at her, puzzled.
"I gotta get some sleep, Deborah. We took the red-eye in last night."
"OK, yeah. I'm sorry, I know you don't sleep well on planes." Rey nodded wearily, went to get his jacket.
"Rey-" he turned back. "Thanks for telling me." Rey shrugged uncomfortably. "I mean - you didn't have to."
"Yeah, OK," Rey chuckled without much humour. Didn't have to. So it could come up some months later and get thrown in his face as yet another deception? Right.
"Did you... were you attracted to her?" Deborah asked hesitantly. He felt himself blushing, but forced himself to not sound defensive.
"Yeah. She was nice."
"So why didn't anything else happen?" Rey gave her a slight smile and shook his head again. "Because of me? Because of us?"
"You're the one who wanted to sign those papers," he pointed out quietly. She nodded.
"I know. What you do now is none of my business."
"That's not by my choice."
"I - I know," she hesitantly touched his arm. "Rey... I, I know, the papers... I know it probably seemed kind of out of the blue... it's just..." Deborah stopped, obviously not knowing how to say what she wanted to say. "And you... you didn't have to take off your ring, I wasn't, that wasn't..." she trailed off again.
"You wanted me to take this seriously. I'm taking it seriously."
"You didn't have to-" she cut herself off, shaking her head. She smiled at him sadly, then slowly drew closer and put her arms around him. He felt slightly startled before automatically hugging her back, then he slowly relaxed into her embrace.
She wasn't angry. Not that she had any right to be, but it wouldn't have surprised him at all if she had been. But maybe she just appreciated him being honest with her. Who knew.
Don't try to figure out why she's not angry right now, he told himself wearily. The important thing is that she's not. At least she wasn't treating him like the enemy right now, and there was still hope that some day there might be more than this. That they could somehow work their way back to friendship, at least, and then to trust and back to being a couple again, a family again. That they could tear up those damn papers. All of a sudden he felt her shoulders shake and he pulled away slightly, shocked to find her trying to suppress tears.
"Baby, what is it?"
"I just - I wish... I wish that, that none of this had ever happened," she said, her voice shaking. "You're putting the kids to bed and we're talking after they're asleep and it feels so normal, so much like, like - I wish... I wish I could just forget the last few months, just pretend everything's OK." He swallowed hard. If he had a nickel for every time he'd wished that with all his heart...
He hesitantly brought his hand up to her face and cupped her cheek. She looked up at him and he wiped a tear from her cheek, his own throat tight.
"Yeah, I know. Me too," he said, his voice rough. She smiled at him slightly, and they gazed at each other for a moment before she bowed her head again and rested her forehead on his chest. He pulled her closer, winding his hand into her hair, just grateful to not be fighting right now. Maybe he'd caused her this pain, but at least she was letting him comfort her.
He closed his eyes as she slowly drew her hands down his back, to his waist. God, that felt good... he caressed the back of her neck gently, for a moment letting himself pretend that things really were OK, that affection between them wasn't an aberration any more. Felt her hitch her breath and abruptly remembered that Deborah had always said that it was a bit of a turn-on for her when he rubbed the back of her neck. That whether they were momentarily at peace or not, whether he'd meant it as a simple comforting gesture or not, he shouldn't be doing that, they weren't a couple any more.
Felt his heart skip a beat when Deborah made a sound in her throat and reached up to still his hand as he started to draw it away.
They stayed frozen for a moment, neither one knowing what to do next. Deborah pulled away and their eyes met, both hesitant, both confused. Then Deborah smiled at him and slowly drew closer, touching her lips to his.
Oh God. He was almost paralyzed with nervousness. Not since his first date had he ever felt this unsure. Should he respond? Would that be welcome or would Deborah come to her senses and push him away? And if he didn't, would she come to her senses and regret her impulsiveness, maybe even feel rejected? If - and then it became very difficult to think clearly as Deborah's lips parted and his hormones kicked in, loudly reminding him that whatever else was going on, it had been far longer than he was used to since the last time he'd had sex. He kissed her back, feeling her melting into him, and eagerly followed her lead.
===
Thursday, December 21
7:02 am
Rey woke up, momentarily disoriented, expecting to see the ceiling of his sister's spare room, no longer used to waking up next to a warm presence. Blinked away sleep as the previous night came back with a rush. He glanced at Deborah, sleeping peacefully next to him. Chewed on his lip, suddenly nervous.
Last night had been passionate and wonderful and everything had seemed right. But now... oh, shit. What if Deborah regretted this? What if she woke up to the same doubts she had before? What if...
This was way out of his control. This wasn't how things were supposed to get back to normal. He'd had a few of these mornings in college, waking up next to somebody, not knowing for sure where a relationship was going to go. But it had never particularly mattered then, because at the time he wasn't looking for a 'relationship' to 'go' anywhere. It was very different waking up next to a friend who'd become a bedmate the night before and idly wondering if she'd be a bedmate again, and waking up next to the mother of your children, the woman you'd prayed with all your heart that you'd be able to come back to, and wondering the same thing.
She stirred, opening her eyes, and met his nervous gaze. Smiled sleepily.
Oh, thank God.
"Good morning," she murmured, drawing closer. He reflected that it was a good thing he was already lying down, because he would have felt the need to lie down anyway, he was that relieved. Almost dizzy. He must have been literally holding his breath.
"Good morning," he kissed the top of her head, stroked her cheek. She made a contented sound in her throat, then pulled away from him slightly and looked at him.
"Deborah? You OK?" he said after a moment.
"Yeah."
"You sure?" She studied him seriously for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind about something and put her head back on his chest, arms around him. He held her closer, caressing her shoulder. "No regrets?" he asked her quietly.
She sighed. "No... no regrets."
"Not even about... no protection?"
She sighed heavily and they were silent for a while. At one point last night, in the heat of the moment - or rather, before the heat of the moment - he'd asked, kicking himself for mentioning it but knowing that he'd kick himself far harder if he didn't, "Hon... where are you? In your cycle?"
She'd hesitated for a second, chest heaving, then admitted, "I don't know any more. I've stopped keeping track." He'd swallowed hard, ready to stop if she wanted him to, not wanting to pressure her in any way. They'd stared at each other. "And I don't care," she'd finally said fiercely, kissing him passionately and tugging off the last of his clothing and effectively ending their discussion.
But now...
"Hon?"
"That wasn't the smartest thing we've ever done," she said quietly.
"No, it wasn't." They were silent for a few minutes. "Are we OK though?" he asked, hating the uncertainty of their situation.
"You mean is everything back to the way it was before all of this?" he started to shake his head, no, that wasn't what he meant at all, but she continued, suppressing a laugh, "Rey... you're good. You're not that good." He blinked at her, confused, then caught the twinkle in her eye and they chuckled together.
"You know that wasn't what I meant," he said a little while later.
"I know. I don't know if we're OK. I think so. I'll let you know? Is that OK?"
"What... what do we tell the girls?"
"Oh." Deborah bit her lip nervously. "Oh, god. I - I hadn't thought of that. Oh, this is kind of a mess, isn't it?"
"Kind of," Rey agreed. "Well, we better think of something, 'cause they'll be up any minute."
===
5:30 pm
Lennie stretched his sore back with relief as he and Rey decided to call it a day. They'd had a hell of a time playing catch-up after their sunny little vacation, but it had ended on an amusing note, at least.
They were way behind on the Triandos murder, of course, and had a ton of paperwork to do for the Grant extradition. But at least Triandos was interesting. They'd discovered that the lovely Mrs. Triandos had started out life as a stripper. And had met Mr. Triandos through a lawyer 'friend' of hers named Fritz, who hung out at the strip club with her.
When confronted with her racy past, Mrs. Triandos had hardly batted an eye, saying it wasn't a secret. However, when confronted with the fact that she had apparently been in two places at once the night her husband died, she'd been terribly, terribly embarrassed. And admitted that yes, she had gone home for a bit, taking a cab so the limo driver couldn't warn her husband that she was coming. Because she was worried that her mother might be moving in on her territory, having an affair with the dearly departed. And she'd asked her mother to leave, then left herself, picking up the mink jacket on the way out.
OK, that one never would've occurred to Lennie. A pretty 22-year old former stripper who had to keep her middle-aged mother away from her elderly husband. They'd decided to talk to the mother the next day.
Lennie grabbed his coat, grimacing at the thought of late-December New York weather. Funny, before sunny California he'd never noticed how dreary, dark, and depressing winter was here.
Rey got ready to go too, somewhat nervous. As far behind as they'd been on their cases, he would've much preferred to stay home with his family today. But Deborah had told him not to call in sick - they'd all still be there when he was done work.
It would've been nice if he could have believed that completely. But part of him kept worrying that she would come to her senses while he was gone and he'd come home to find his suitcase on the front steps. Well, he supposed he'd find out in about an hour or so.
In the meantime, he should really give his sister a call. Let her know he was back in town, but that... what? That he'd be staying at his - no, at Deborah's home tonight? Would he?
Damn it.
===
Friday, December 22
1:30 pm
Kim Triandos' alibi for the mink checked out, mostly. She had indeed gone home, had words with her mother, and then they'd both left. But they'd left in two separate cabs. Which meant she could have turned around and gone right back home for a little while.
Interestingly, she had also cut her mother off, got rid of the allowance Triandos was giving her. She and Triandos' lawyer, Oliver Shane, were already taking charge of Triandos' money. According to her mother, they were friends.
"When Kim was stripping, she was friends with a lawyer," Lennie mused out loud as they walked out of the hotel where Kim Triandos' mother was staying.
"Named Fritz," Rey pointed out.
"Rey, if you were a married lawyer, hanging out with strippers, would you use your real name? Well maybe you would," Lennie quipped, and Rey gave him a pained glance. "How're things going with you and Deborah?" Lennie asked as they reached the car.
Rey quickly suppressed his slight alarm as he dismissively said, "Still living on my sister's couch." Which wasn't really a lie, since they hadn't talked about him actually moving back in for good. They hadn't talked about anything, actually. Just picked up as if he'd never been away. It was almost eerie, how quickly they'd all slipped back to being a family again, even the kids.
If only he could trust this. If only he could stop feeling like this was just a strange little alternate reality that could disappear at any minute.
Anyway, he sure as hell wasn't going to go into detail with Lennie over what was actually going on, when he had no clue himself. "So what if this Fritz is really Triandos' lawyer?" he asked, bringing his mind back to something he could actually work on.
===
Saturday, December 23
1:00 pm
Evan Grant, now a resident of Riker's Island, had finally fessed up to having sex with Ellison the night of her murder. However, he told Ross and McCoy that he'd borrowed her car to go to New Paltz and said his toll receipt from when he got off the Thruway was probably still in there. So Lennie had called Rey to the garage, because that would blow their evidence against Grant. Turned out that no, there was no receipt, but the trip hadn't been a waste of time. The guy at the garage had mentioned that Eddie Newman, who happened to have a parking spot right next to Ellison's, had called from LA the day after her murder, to get his car cleaned. "Said he wanted it done right away - inside and out."
Which sounded pretty hinky to them. So they'd gone back to the precinct to check it out, see if there was any possibility Newman had been in New York the day of the murder. Turned out there was: Newman's cell phone had been routed through a number in LA that night, but he could have been using it from anywhere.
"Hey Rey," Profaci said as they finished briefing Van Buren on the latest development, "A Leesa Lundquist called earlier. She says she's at the Royal Tennent, but you can call her any time, day or night," he smiled, teasing.
"Thanks for the message," Rey said brusquely, going to his desk.
"I think she likes you," Lennie followed him, doing his best imitation of a teenage girl.
Rey rubbed his forehead. "Lennie..."
"What?"
"Cut it out."
"What is with you?" Lennie said impatiently. This whole overly sensitive thing was really starting to get old.
Rey hesitated, then said quickly, "I'm back home."
Lennie's eyebrows went up. There was an awkward silence. "As in, back with your wife?"
Rey nodded.
"Since when?"
"Since we got back to the City."
Lennie paused for a moment. "And... all's forgiven?"
"I don't know," Rey sighed heavily, "But..."
"Yeah, yeah, OK, point taken." They both simultaneously looked down at their desks, searching for a topic-changer. "So... what do you wanna do while we're waiting for Newman's cell phone records?"
"Uh..."
"Hey, why don't you go home?" Lennie suggested on impulse. After all, there was no need for both of them to wait around for fax records from Newman's cell phone, showing where it had been when he used it that day. "I mean, I wouldn't have called you to go to Ellison's garage this morning if I knew..." Lennie said apologetically.
Rey looked doubtful. "You sure? We're off tomorrow and Monday..."
"Rey, go home. It's Saturday. It's almost Christmas. Spend some time with your family." While you can, Lennie finished privately. Because if he were taking bets on this reconciliation lasting... he wouldn't.
===
Tuesday, December 26
5:30 pm
Oh, shit.
Rey sensed as soon as he came into the house that something was not right. The kids greeted him joyfully, but Deborah...
"Baby, what's wrong," he murmured into her ear as he embraced her, trying to get her to relax. She stood stiffly in his arms for a moment before briefly hugging him back, then moving away.
"Girls, how about you go to the basement for a little while," she said.
"But Mommy," Serena began, quieting as Deborah gave her a stern glare.
"What's wrong, hon?" Rey asked when the girls were gone. Deborah hesitated for a long time, then blurted,
"I was in the middle of my cycle the other day."
Rey's stomach lurched, not so much at her words but at her tense, almost accusative tone. He forced himself to not react.
"Are you worried?" he asked quietly.
"Are you kidding?" she said impatiently. "Of course I'm worried."
"Baby, it was just once-" he started to say, then thought better of it and closed his mouth. It had been just once - they'd picked up condoms the next day - but that really wasn't the thing to say to her right now. She'd obviously been getting more and more worried about this as the day wore on.
"Just once is all it took with Isabel," she reminded him brusquely.
"Why don't we just worry if you're late-" he began, then thought better of that too as she glared at him. Maybe this was one of those times when nothing he could say would help and he should really just shut up.
"I was right in the middle. The most fertile time."
"I thought you weren't keeping track any more."
"I wasn't doing the whole Natural Family Planning thing with taking my temperature and tracking and all that, but yeah, I keep track of it, roughly - what the hell does it matter?"
Rey hesitated for a moment. "What... what can I say?" he finally asked cautiously. "What do you want me to say?"
Deborah blew out her breath angrily. "What can you say? This isn't a problem to you, is it?"
"What?"
"I mean, you're back, that's all that matters, right? We're all just pretending nothing happened, everything's the way it was before-"
"I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it," Rey interrupted. "I'm just following your lead."
"We all go off to church like a family on Christmas day, like nothing happened, like we've been together all along-"
"Deborah-"
"What?!"
Rey held his tongue, having no idea what to say. No, everything wasn't the way it had been. For one thing, going to church together for Christmas services had been more than a little uncomfortable, facing startled looks and sidelong glances from their fellow parishioners. The idea of the Ladies' Auxiliary and the Sunday School teachers and the Meal Brigade all gossiping about his family yet again... that had been extremely unpleasant.
And even being at home wasn't 'all better now'. The fact that they hadn't talked about it, that they'd put off the girls when they asked if Daddy was home to stay now, the fact that he'd been worried about their carelessness that first night too... the fact that every time he went to work he was afraid of coming home to... to this...
No, it wasn't all better. Especially not right now.
"What if I'm pregnant?" Deborah asked, half-angry, half-scared.
"Deborah - what if you are? We'll deal with it-" he tried to reassure her.
"Oh, that would be terrific, wouldn't it? That's what you wanted anyway-"
"Hey, no, it's not, I know this isn't-"
"You were the one who wanted us to have another child before all of this happened, you're the one who was pushing to stop doing NFP!"
He stared at her, not quite believing what she was saying. "You think I want us to have another baby with things the way they are right now?!"
"Well you sure as hell weren't doing anything to slow us down!"
"I did! For God's sake, I asked you if-"
"Oh, yeah, you asked, good for you-"
"What the hell did you want from me?" he flared, tired of tiptoeing around her feelings. "You wanted to as much as I did!!"
"You have no self-control at all, do you?"
"That's not fair!! We both lost control that night-"
"Except I'm the one who'll suffer for it!" she raged at him. "You bastard!!"
"Deborah! This isn't fair!!"
"Mommy?" Olivia's frightened voice in the stairway brought them up short.
Deborah cursed under her breath but quickly called out, "Sweetie, go back downstairs."
"How come you're yelling-"
"Olivia! Back to your playroom now!" Deborah said sternly. They waited until they heard her go back down the stairs, then Rey took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly.
"Deborah... look, I hope you're not, but... if you are, we'll find some way to deal with it. We'll be OK."
"We. Very nice, Rey. Which 'we' are we talking about?" He had no response to that, and she blew out her breath impatiently. "If you're thinking I'm just going to forgive and forget everything, just because I don't want to take care of a baby by myself-"
"I never said-"
"-then you can go to hell. Just because we made one mistake, I'm not going to compound it by making another one." Rey narrowed his eyes, stung by her words and tone but still trying to stay calm and reasonable.
"Deborah, don't make me regret that night-"
"Why the hell not?! I do!" she said bitterly.
A gasp escaped from him, and for a split second Deborah seemed to regret what she'd just said. Then her lips pressed together and she lifted her chin defiantly, daring him to lash back at her. He bit his lip and looked away from her, fighting to hide his hurt.
"You... you can be a real bitch, can't you," he said softly. There was a long silence.
"You know what?" Deborah said calmly. "I don't think this is working out."
Rey rubbed his forehead. There. The other shoe was dropping. "You want me to go?" he asked hollowly, and Deborah nodded and left the room. Rey numbly put his clothes into the suitcase, then called a taxi and went to say goodbye to the girls.
"Where's Daddy going?" Serena asked, confused.
"Daddy's going back to Aunt Lisa's place, he'll see you on the weekend," Deborah said nonchalantly. "Now say bye bye."
"But I thought he was gonna stay here now!" Olivia protested.
"You'll see him on Saturday, Olivia," Deborah explained patiently. Olivia glared at her, angry and upset.
"I gotta go, girls, I'll see you Saturday," Rey told them, forcing himself to keep his tone casual.
"But WHY?" Serena stomped her foot, her small face crumpling up as she started to work herself into a temper.
"Serena, it's complicated," Deborah said evenly, "Now say goodbye." Rey held out his arms and Serena ran to him, hugging him tightly.
"I don't WANT him to go!" she told Deborah belligerently. "You're a BAD Mommy! You're sending him AWAY!!"
"Come on, sweetie," he squeezed her comfortingly, murmuring, "Don't talk to Mommy like that. OK?" She frowned at him, lower lip trembling, and he cupped her cheek, regarding her seriously. "OK? Be a good girl." She clung to him fiercely, nodding reluctantly. "OK, I gotta go. I'll see you on the weekend." He gave her a quick kiss and gently disengaged himself from her tight embrace.
===
OK. Back to his sister's place. Back to reality, this couldn't have lasted anyway. He gave the cab driver the address, leaning back in the seat.
Suddenly strangely reluctant to face his sister and explain what had happened, he took out his cell phone and stared at it, thinking about calling Leesa Lundquist's hotel.
What the hell. Not like there was any point in avoiding temptation.
No, that was silly, this had nothing to do with temptation, he was just being polite and returning a call from somebody who had been helpful to him and Lennie and who probably just wanted to talk about the cop script. He punched in the number.
"Royal Tennent Hotel."
"Hello, I'm trying to get in touch with a guest there, Leesa Lundquist - I'm not sure what room she's staying in..."
"Your name, sir?"
"Rey Curtis."
"Mmhm... ah yes, Miss Lundquist, Room 3130. She left a note for us to put your call through."
===
6:30 pm
"Back again?" Profaci asked Rey, surprised. "You forget something?"
"Nah, just giving a tour," Rey said. "Uh, Leesa, this is Tony Profaci, he's one of the detectives here. This is Leesa Lundquist," he introduced them. Profaci greeted Leesa politely, giving Rey a questioning glance as she asked him a few questions about his job at the 2-7.
Rey ignored Profaci's curiosity. Word had finally filtered through the precinct that he was separated - really, you couldn't keep anything private forever in a workplace staffed by so many intrinsically curious people - but Leesa's presence here didn't have anything to do with his marital breakdown. So Profaci could just damn well wipe that little speculative smirk off his face.
"You were working today?" Leesa asked him as Profaci left.
"Yeah, got Christmas day off, but we were on today. Besides, we're still playing catch-up with our cases from when we were in LA."
"How are they going?"
"Pretty good," Rey said easily. Actually, really good, today. The Ellison case in particular had gone very, very well. The murder weapon, a huge knife called a barong, had been found by some kid out in Islip yesterday. So they'd gone out to talk to him today, see when he found it. And in the Triandos case, Triandos' butler had told them that Kim Triandos had indeed been introduced to her husband by Oliver Shane, Triandos' lawyer. Probably AKA Fritz.
They wandered through the precinct, chatting as he showed her the interrogation room, line-up rooms, holding cells, Leesa shaking her head at how small and cramped everything was. Reminding him of places in the script where it seemed the writer had assumed a precinct had unlimited space for large crowds of people to gather.
"Not bad for cop flavour," Leesa said a little while later. "So... what about dinner flavour? Any restaurants you can recommend? I'm on Mattawin Studios' expense account..." she said teasingly. He hesitated, a million objections racing through his mind. Not the least of which was that this was Tuesday and he and Deborah hadn't actually cancelled counseling tonight...
Oh, what the hell. "You like Italian?"
===
11:58 pm
Why the hell not?! I do!
Deborah's words were still echoing in his mind hours later as he tried to get to sleep, back on his sister's couch. Drowning out the pleasant time he'd had with Leesa that evening and all he'd accomplished at work that day.
Of all the things she'd flung at him in these last few months, that went right up there to the Top Ten of "Things Deborah's Said to Rip Up My Heart". Right up among "They deserve better than you as a father" and "What marriage?"
He'd told himself that even if they didn't manage to patch things up, at least that night would not be something to regret. He knew it could be the last time he ever made love to her, the last time he ever went to sleep or woke up next to her, but he'd told himself that if that turned out to be the case, he'd just try to treasure the memory. And hopefully she would do the same.
Apparently not. Apparently she regretted sleeping with him like... like he regretted sleeping with that girl from the Park. Like he was an unpleasant mistake she'd made. Like if a child resulted from their night together, that would be not a blessing at all but a curse.
Jesus. Like nothing else, this was driving home the fact that they were headed straight for divorce.
===
Wednesday, December 27
9:35 am
"And that's it for the Mink Widow," Lennie said as they finished telling Van Buren about the Triandos arrest. Fairly predictable, once you got past all the red herrings about butlers and students and students' fathers. Triandos' pretty widow and her lawyer friend had conspired to have her meet him, marry him, and wait around for him to keel over. That much she'd admitted to. And when he didn't, one of them helped him along. Although of course the lovely widow denied that part.
"There was no hurry, Peter was old, he had medical problems," she'd said.
"Yeah. A cord wrapped around his neck," Rey had deadpanned.
Still, it was enough for an arrest, and from here on in it was up to the DA to line up all the evidence. And now they could concentrate fully on the Ellison case.
Which was a good thing, because although they had the murder weapon for the Ellison case, there were two small problems. Not only were Grant's prints not on the murder weapon, but Grant had checked into his motel in New Paltz at 11:45. There wasn't enough time to kill Ellison in Manhattan, dump the barong in Islip, then get to New Paltz at 11:45. And he had to have dumped it that night, too - the kid who found it said he'd found it the day his class took a field trip to the Museum of Natural History. Which was the day after Ellison's murder.
"If Grant wasn't in Islip, maybe Eddie Newman was," Rey suggested.
"Wasn't he in LA?" Van Buren asked.
"He was with his cell phone. Which could be anywhere."
"LAPD says it could take a week to get his phone records," Lennie put in.
"Well. Before we start apologizing to Mr. Grant, retrace his timeline and nail it down," Van Buren told them, dismissing them.
"So, it's not even lunch yet, we've already arrested one person and might have to un-arrest another one," Lennie said tiredly as Rey approached their desks. "Let's go get something to eat."
"Yeah - diner, though, not a hot dog stand," Rey said.
"What, Deborah didn't make you another Christmas leftover lunch today?" Lennie joked.
"Nah, I'm back at my sister's," Rey said casually. Lennie glanced at him in slight surprise, but his partner's expression was closed off. Well, that hadn't lasted long, Lennie thought. No big surprise there.
===
"Hey, you ever return that call from Leesa the other day?" Lennie asked as they entered the Traffic Division. They'd figured that, given about an hour to argue with, kill, and dismember Ellison, then dispose of her head and torso in the river, and given two hours to get from Islip to New Paltz, Grant had to have left Islip by no later than 9:30. Which meant he had to get from Manhattan to Islip in 45 minutes or less. So now they were going to see if that could have been possible that night.
"Uh, yeah, we got together yesterday. She wanted to talk about the cop script again," Rey said, ignoring Lennie's skeptically raised eyebrow as the Traffic Division clerk approached and they told him what they were looking for.
"So whadja do with Leesa?" Lennie asked as they waited for the clerk to come back. "Show her the sights?"
"Showed her the precinct."
"Girl flies in all the way from California..."
"What, jumpin' into the sack with her's not gonna save my marriage, Lennie."
"Well, neither is your on and off separation-"
"The expert speaks," Rey said dismissively.
"Hey I know what doesn't work," Lennie said forcefully. "Believe me, if your wife wanted a doormat, she'd go to Sears. Hey, put a clock on it, Rey, so the two of you can get on with your lives."
Doormat, Rey thought as they listened to the Traffic clerk describe traffic on the LIE that night. Was that what he was? He'd been trying so hard to make up for his sin. He'd done everything Deborah wanted him to, and chastised himself when he got pissed off at her. Told himself over and over again that this was his due for having betrayed her in the first place.
But how far could that go, really? At what point did this stop being proper penance and start being masochistic stupidity?
He pulled himself up short, realizing what he was doing. Taking what Lennie said about marriage seriously. He grimaced, disgusted with himself. Brought himself back to the case, and to their purpose - trying to figure out how Grant disposed of the barong in Islip and still made it to New Paltz that night.
===
Thursday, December 28
10:30 pm
"So... I should really get going. I gotta go to work tomorrow," Rey said reluctantly as he brought Leesa their wine glasses. Dinner had been great, the conversation interesting, and they'd come back to her hotel suite for drinks afterwards. A very nice way to end a day that had consisted mostly of still trying to track down whoever dumped the barong in Islip, since it almost certainly couldn't have been Grant. But now it was time to go back to reality. Besides, his sister would probably be wondering where he was.
"OK, sure," Leesa took the glasses, putting them into the sink and giving him a friendly smile. He smiled back.
"Leesa... thanks."
"For what?"
"Just..." he felt suddenly shy, not sure what to say. "Um... just, it's, it's nice spending time with you." He shrugged, slightly uncomfortable. "I've had a good time, that's all."
"You're welcome," she grinned at him. "The feeling's very mutual." She rested her hand on his arm lightly. He hesitated, then covered her hand with his, telling himself he had to, had to, had to leave. Right now. Looked back up at her, into her eyes, found himself drawing closer to her almost as if somebody else was moving his body. And then she was moving closer too, and then they were kissing. And he was pulling her closer, breathing in her perfume, letting his hands touch her hair, her face...
No no no no no, he thought vaguely as she made a sound in her throat and cupped his cheek and he felt his breath come out in a gasp. Christ, you'd think he hadn't had sex in years the way he was responding to her, hyper-sensitized, every instinct pulling him closer to her, his fingers itching to undo the buttons on her blouse, get rid of the clothing separating them, feel her against him, skin on skin, totally ready for anything and everything-
And where they were headed wasn't worth the way he would feel the next day.
Right.
He slowed them down, deliberately brought his hands to her shoulders and ended their kiss. She made a questioning sound and sought his lips again, and he caught at her hands and held them as they kissed again, more gently this time, then ended the kiss regretfully and put his fingers on her lips. He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, fingers resting against her lips, gently keeping them apart. He sighed deeply, trying to ignore his body's protest, trembling with interrupted desire.
"I'm sorry, I - I really have to go."
She gazed at him, disappointment clear in her eyes, and he looked away. That hadn't been fair to her. She didn't deserve this back-and-forth from him, any more than he deserved it from Deborah. In fact, she deserved it far, far less.
"I'm sorry. I'll let myself out," he said, his voice low. More than a little appalled, now that blood was starting to flow normally again, at how close he had come to forgetting his marriage vows all over again.
But you're not really married, a little internal voice pointed out.
That doesn't matter, he told the little voice firmly. Those papers might mean something in civil court, and things might be really bad right now, but in the eyes of God, he and Deborah were still man and wife, and there was no excuse for this. Not even the echo of the words Deborah had flung at him three days ago.
"Rey, it's OK," Leesa said gently. "I... I know you're married. I knew what I was getting into," she said wryly. "Or at least, I should have."
===
7:30am
"You came in late last night," his sister commented the next morning. Rey nodded, getting himself a coffee.
"Working late?" she asked, her voice deceptively casual. His brother-in-law made an impatient sound in his throat and Rey caught a quick exchange of glances between them.
"No," he said shortly.
"Were you at home?"
"You mean at Deborah's house?" Rey clarified bitterly. "No, I wasn't." She waited. "I went to dinner with a friend." She pursed her lips, sensing more than he was saying and waiting expectantly.
"Lisa, shut up and mind your own business," his brother-in-law said impatiently and left the kitchen. Rey narrowed his eyes, barely biting back several comments. Although he appreciated the sentiment, having this asshole talk like that to his sister, however irate Rey himself was at her prying...
Lisa ignored her husband, staring straight at Rey. "A woman friend?"
Rey stared back at her, refusing to show the discomfort he felt, reminding himself that he hadn't done anything wrong.
"What the hell are you doing? You think this is the way to get your life back in order? Shack up with some slut-"
"She's not a slut," Rey interrupted evenly. "And in case you forgot, the reason I'm here is my wife just kicked me out, again-"
"So this is how you're gonna prove to her that you're worth taking back?"
"So what am I supposed to do to 'prove myself' to her?" Rey asked angrily.
"You're supposed to do whatever it takes! You fucked up, little brother. Not her. So when she says jump, you say how high, you don't go and-"
"Yeah, sure. That's what I've been doing. And it's working real well so far. Jesus, maybe Lennie was right," he muttered into his coffee cup.
"Lennie?"
"He said if my wife wanted a doormat, she'd go to Sears."
"Taking marriage advice from your partner," Lisa commented dryly. "I guess that's no dumber than anything else you've done lately." Rey glanced at her impatiently. "You wanna call Jorge, ask his advice too?"
"Why don't I just ask you?" he shot back. "Because it looks like your marriage is just one long party."
"Go to hell, Rey," she stood up and stalked out of the kitchen. He sighed and after a moment, followed her into the living room.
"Lisa, I'm sorry. That was out of line."
"Yeah. It was," she said shortly.
"Look, I'm not - nothing's happening with this other woman," Rey said quietly. "And I'm... I'm still trying, with Deborah. It's just a bad time right now."
"You like this girl?" Lisa asked after a moment. Rey shrugged. She shook her head. "Rey... if you do, you're playing with fire. Cut it out or you're gonna get burned."
===
Sunday, December 31
10:30 am
Rey measured and mixed in salt for the play-doh mix, one ear on the Sunday School teacher as she taught the day's lesson. It was his turn to do the craft prep today and the kids were going to make play-doh representations of things that had happened to them this year, and things they hoped would happen next year.
His mind wandered as he kneaded the play-doh. The Sunday School teacher had suggested that the parent volunteers help by telling the kids a little story about something important that had happened in their own lives, then making a little sculpture. So... what should he make?
He smiled slightly, amused. Maybe a little sculpture about the Ellison case, one of the more important cases they'd had - certainly one of the most notorious. A little headless torso?
That wouldn't go over very well with the Sunday School teacher. Maybe a bunch of little planes. Planes were certainly figuring prominently in this case. First the plane that was supposed to have taken Ellison to Bora Bora, then the planes he and Lennie took to LA and back, then the little private planes that had provided them with a real break. They'd talked to a gas station attendant near the field where the barong was dumped, who remembered a City cabbie coming in the night Ellison was killed. The cabbie had taken a fare from Manhattan to Islip but dropped him off just short of McArthur Airport. Which sounded odd - why not drop him off at McArthur Airport? So they'd figured maybe that might be the barong-dumper, catching a private plane out. They'd checked with private plane owners flying out of McArthur that day to see if anybody connected to Ellison had flown out of the City.
Yes, somebody had. In one of the most bizarre interviews Rey had ever conducted, some bigwig plane owner named Burger had told them through his staff (the guy hadn't said a word, it was actually kind of impressive) that he'd been held up awaiting a passenger that night. Eddie Newman. Ellison's loving ex-husband. Who said he'd been in LA at the time.
Yeah, little planes. He could make little planes. That would sure beat the other sculptures he could make, about the most important things that had really happened to him this year. A college grad student. A separation document. A possible baby. He turned his thoughts away from that last one and broke the play-doh into four batches, setting aside one batch to stay white and starting to work yellow food dye into another batch.
As for what he hoped for next year... their family together again? That was still a possibility, albeit a slim one. Leesa had gone back to LA, so that temptation was gone. He and Deborah were supposed to go back to counseling this Tuesday - as it turned out, she had also skipped last week, so at least she couldn't be pissed at him for that. Maybe they might start to get back on track.
And if they didn't... he was slowly getting used to this separation thing. It was awful, but not the end of the world after all. He was no longer so out of his depth on his own with the girls - in fact, he was taking them out for all of New Year's Day tomorrow and hadn't really worried about how to handle that, because he knew it would work out.
No, it wasn't so bad, he thought as he worked the red dye into another batch. Except... except that now there was this baby thing hanging over them. Another incentive to work things out, as well as yet another stressor in an already volatile situation.
This baby thing. Whenever he didn't work to keep from obsessing over it, there it was. Especially since Deborah wasn't due until four days from now, so she couldn't even do a test to set their minds at ease. If Deborah was pregnant... god, that would be a disaster.
Rey swallowed hard, remembering the last time he'd been worried like this. Laura. Two girlfriends before Deborah, so... ten years ago. The condom broke and he'd spent two weeks worried sick, partly because he and Laura were just a casual couple, so marriage was out of the question, but mostly because Laura had made no bones about the fact that abortion was definitely her option of choice. The thought of his own child, wanted or not, being destroyed like so much unwanted tissue... that had kept him awake night after night.
Thank God at least that wasn't an issue this time. But still... his child growing up without a father from the very beginning...
Stop it, he told himself, starting a blue batch of play-doh. She doesn't know she was fertile, she just has a rough guesstimate. For all you know, there's nothing to worry about. So why all this damn useless obsessing over nothing?
He'd never been worried with Deborah. Hopeful the first two times and slightly nervous the last, but never actively worried. Never actively praying for Deborah's period.
Never sternly reminding himself that he should pray for her period, that hoping another baby might bring them closer together was incredibly stupid and unrealistic.
They'd been actively trying with Olivia and Serena, and sort of trying not to with Isabel. Avoiding sex when it might result in a baby, but not being too conscientious about it. They'd gotten carried away a few times, each time just thinking what the hell, if it happens, it happens. When the last time resulted in Isabel, neither of them had minded. Unplanned but not unwelcome, was how Deborah had explained her third pregnancy to a friend.
If she was pregnant now, how would they deal with it? How could Deborah be up all night with a baby, then take care of the other girls the next day, day after day? They used to take turns waking up at night - how could they take turns now? Maybe he could ask for time off from work... did the NYPD even have paternity leave?
Another frightening thought: would Deborah decide she couldn't do it on her own and move to her mother's place at the Pequot Rez? A lot of single women with new babies did that. He pressed his lips together as he set up the craft table with the new play-doh. It was a three-hour trip out there. If Deborah went that route... how often would he be able to see his kids?
And what about the birth? Would he even be there for that? He'd been there through thirty hours with Olivia and an emergency Caesarian with Serena and an amazingly uncomplicated VBAC with Isabel. It had been a miraculous thing each time, three of the most difficult and magical days of his life, three of his most treasured memories. Helping his wife as she brought their children into the world.
Would she want him there at all this time? Or would this one be born without him? With him shunted aside, hoping she'd think to call him afterwards?
Stop it! he gave himself a mental shake. What the hell is the matter with you? Stop worrying about something that's probably nothing. There's enough to worry about that's real.
Like right now, he realized as the Sunday School lesson ended and the children swarmed over to the craft table. What were his daughters going to make? How painful would it be, how would he deal with it, if they ended up with three little play-doh versions of a broken family?
He dismissed that morbid thought as well. Kids tended to be a little more self-centred than that. Olivia would probably make some kind of representation of a two-wheel bike, and Serena might make a big number four - she was very, very proud of having turned four this year. And Isabel was so small she'd probably just try to eat the play-doh. She climbed into his lap and he got her some play-doh, surreptitiously tasting a small piece before he gave it to her. Good, he grimaced, swallowing it quickly. It was disgustingly salty. She'd hate that.
===
Monday, January 1
3:30 am
A woman's voice whispering in his ear. Hands caressing him everywhere, setting him on fire. And he didn't have to prove himself to her, get past her mistrust or disappointment in him. Just feel her body responding to his and know that she wanted him, that she wouldn't throw this at him later, wouldn't regret it...
The feeling's very mutual, she murmured
Her blue eyes sparkled at him and he held her close, curly brown hair felt like silk to his fingers, and she smiled and their lips met as he slid his hand under her shirt-
Shit! Rey woke up and groaned. No, what the hell was that? Now he was even being unfaithful in his dreams. He felt a pang of guilt mixed with arousal. That had been pretty vivid. Now he was awake, frustrated as hell, and feeling guilty on top of that.
No, come on, he gave himself a mental shake. You're not that Catholic. Dirty dreams are beyond your control. Get a grip. He rolled over, closed his eyes, and dutifully made himself think of evidence reports until he fell asleep.
===
8:30 pm
"More coffee, Jorge?" Lisa asked their older brother, who was visiting for a couple of days.
"Yeah, yeah," Jorge said distractedly. "So this happened how long ago?" he asked Rey.
"Two and a half months."
Jorge whistled in disbelief. Rey shrugged. He'd been really hoping he wouldn't have to tell Jorge he was separated, but it really couldn't be helped. Jorge had shown up in New York unexpectedly on business and plopped himself down at Lisa's house, and of course the topic of why Rey was staying there too had come up.
"Wow. This is what I miss by living in Tucson. All the best gossip happens without me."
Lisa frowned at Jorge's cheerful, cat-that-ate-the-canary tone and changed the subject. "So how did the girls like the New Year's Day Exhibit at the museum?"
Rey smiled. "They loved it. There was just one freak-out from Isabel when we were in the bug section. Good thing I got her settled before the security guard came over, he knows me."
"From where?"
"He's a moonlighting IAB cop, I met him during the Flynn case a few months ago. He looked like he was itching to get back at me."
"Oh, is he one of the ones that ruled that bad shooting good?" Lisa asked, and Rey nodded.
"IAB?" Jorge asked.
"Internal Affairs Bureau. You know, catching crooked cops. Me and Lennie had to do their job for them, made them look like idiots."
"Crooked cops, huh? And I thought you were all such saints. Oops, present company excepted, I guess," Jorge said drolly. Lisa glared at him as Rey blushed and cleared his throat, and Jorge chuckled at their expressions. "Nah, come on, Lisa, you can't expect me to just sit and not say anything about this. Come on. After the shit he said to me when my marriage tanked?"
"Jorge," Lisa said evenly. "It's not the same. They're going to patch things up. They're in counseling." Jorge blew out his breath derisively. "You're going back tomorrow, right?" Lisa asked.
"Yeah," Rey muttered.
"So you been living here the whole time?" Jorge asked.
"I was at a hotel for a while."
"You still going to see those places this weekend?" Lisa asked, and Rey nodded. "You know, you don't have to-" she began as she finished her coffee and got up.
"Yeah, I really do," Rey said gently. She nodded and gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze as she left the kitchen.
"'Cause of the Resident Drunken Asshole?" Jorge asked as soon as she was gone. Rey let his silence speak for itself. Jorge shook his head. "How do you put up with that son of a bitch?"
"I know it wouldn't help Lisa any if I belted him. But..." he shook his head, remembering all the times in the last few weeks that he'd had to bite his tongue to keep from at least giving their brother-in-law a piece of his mind.
"Two days is about my limit. He still drinking like a fish?" Rey nodded and Jorge sighed. "Why the hell's she still with him? Pathetic loser."
"They're married, Jorge."
"Damn, you two... I swear to God every stupid idea Mama ever had about Till death do you part, the two of you just soaked it up like it was gospel truth."
"It is gospel truth." Although in Lisa's case, Rey kind of had to agree with Jorge. This really was hopeless.
"Bullcrap. Comes a time when you just gotta get outta Dodge. Like you, now. Two months and you're still living at Big Sister's house and going to counseling," Jorge sneered. Rey stared at him silently. "What, you need a lightning bolt to spell it out for you? Move on, bro."
"It hasn't been that long."
Jorge snorted. "D'you ever watch Saturday Night Live, Deep Thoughts With Jack Handey? There was one that went, 'If you ever drop your watch into a river of molten lava, let it go. 'Cause man, it's gone'." Rey looked away, and Jorge leaned forward and repeated earnestly. "Let it go. 'Cause, man, it's gone. She is never gonna trust you again. And you know why? Because she's got no reason to. You're a guy, Rey. You tried to pretend for years that you were some sorta saint. But you're not. Pretty face comes along... it's biology, man."
"Don't give me that," Rey said impatiently.
"Hey, you're so into God and all that - you ever think maybe God made us the way we are for a reason? Maybe put what's between our legs for a reason?"
"Jorge!" Rey said in disgust.
"Fidelity is for women, bro. They can do it - they're so busy with kids and all that, it's not a problem for them. Guys, it's a different story. You really think you've got it in you to never step out again, as long as you live? You get the same thing in your bed every night, you think you're not gonna wanna experiment?"
"No."
"You haven't learned a thing, have you?" Jorge said in disbelief.
"I learned that I know better," Rey said quietly.
===
Tuesday, January 2
8:30 pm
"We're only worried about the once," Rey explained, embarrassed, at their next counseling session. "We uh, we went to the drug store after that."
Morelli pursed his lips, suppressing judgment as he had during their recounting of what had happened over the last two weeks. So far, he hadn't been impressed by any of it, and they could both tell.
"What?" Deborah said, getting a little tired of feeling defensive.
"I'm just surprised, that's all. You two made a commitment to only use the form of birth control that the Church approved. I know you both used contraceptives before, but this was a promise you made to each other and to God when you got married. I'm surprised you broke it."
"We're not really married any more," Deborah said bluntly, and Rey winced. "I'd stopped keeping track of my cycle."
"Still-"
"Well, excuse me, using condoms is slightly lower on my scale of sins than bringing an unwanted child into the world."
Rey flinched. Shit. That hurt like hell.
"What?" Deborah said challengingly.
He shook his head. An unwanted child. Like the baby that might be growing inside her right now, his child, their child, was nothing but a mistake.
"Would this baby be unwanted?" Morelli asked her curiously.
"Are you kidding?"
"It wouldn't be planned, but-"
"Only a man could see this as anything positive."
"We're talking about a child, not a curse, Deborah."
"It's the same thing, if it isn't going to be brought into a stable home."
Rey looked away, too upset to respond.
"What? Do you want this?"
He shook his head.
"You do, don't you?"
"No, I don't. But... if, if you are pregnant - that's our child," he said helplessly, not able to articulate anything else. Their child. The product of their love, not some back-alley quickie against a wall. Which was how she was talking about it. "I, I know how you feel about me. And about that night. But-"
"But nothing. Don't try to make this sound like some hidden blessing-"
"Screw this," Rey said abruptly and stood up, feeling something snap inside. "I don't need this. Nobody needs this." He walked out and slammed the door.
Well. That was that. He'd walked out of the fucking useless, endless guilt-trip that was his marriage counseling. And probably walked away from his marriage.
"Rey!" Morelli followed him out of his office. Rey ignored him and started down the hallway. "Rey, you can't just walk out-"
"Yeah? Watch me," he tossed over his shoulder, not breaking stride.
"Rey, this marriage is your responsibility-"
"I've done everything I'm supposed to do!" he said, angrily turning on Morelli so quickly that Morelli nearly stumbled back. "This isn't going anywhere! She's not gonna forgive me, she's not gonna get over it - and I'm not gonna sit and let both of you keep walking all over me! You can both go to hell!!" Morelli gaped at him and Rey felt a prickle of alarm at himself. He'd just told his priest to go to hell. In church. This was going to be worth some mighty penance later.
Later. Not right now. Right now he was too angry to do more than turn around again and leave.
