Chapter Thirty-One: Tuesday, January 3, 2006, New York City
A/N:
I know I am re-writing to curb the insane head-hopping, but I couldn't resist retaining the peek inside John Munch's head in this chapter…. POV shifts are at least properly marked in this edition!
…..
Simon walked with his parents out to the front porch to wait for the car service they'd called to take them back to their hotel, in Washington Heights. Laura, Jerry, and their children had already left to walk home; Juta went with them. Jake and Charlie had gone too, Jake saying something about going to see Kate.
There were still things going on there that Simon didn't understand, but he wasn't ready to push Caroline for more information.
Charlie was heading over to Fin and Diana's to meet up with Christopher, Janelle, and their father to observe some astronomical event through Diana's telescope.
The night was cold and clear; a thin crescent moon hung over the trees and made the snow on the rooftops sparkle. Nearly every house on the block had Christmas lights twinkling on trees or from windows—a few were fully decked out, others had only a couple of strands hung, but it made Simon feel at home. It made him feel happy.
"Are you going to ask what we think?" Mom asked him, after a few silent moments had ticked past.
"I know what you think."
Mom was upset about George and Kip. She probably couldn't find much fault with anyone else, but she didn't like the neighborhood, the house, or his little bedroom on the third floor.
Simon could honestly tell her he hadn't known about Kip. It wasn't the sort of thing that came up over dinner, and really, how was it any of anyone's business? That attitude would upset her too. Seriously, though, why should it bother him what other people did? It wasn't hurting him. It wasn't hurting anyone.
Mom didn't look pleased by his answer. "Fine. So you think you know what I think."
"Annie—" Dad began.
"No. I want to know what's next, Simon?"
"What do you mean?" Simon asked.
"You have two jobs. You have this…I can't call it an apartment, but it's a place to sleep at least. You seem serious about getting back into school. What next?"
"Isn't that enough?" Simon asked her. Considering he'd only decided to move a few days ago, he felt like he'd accomplished a lot.
"Annie, come on," Dad tried again. "It's late. We're all tired."
Mom ignored him. "I want to know what your plan is, Simon. You moved across the country. For what?"
"Because I want to be near Caroline," Simon told her again. Was it really that hard to understand? Lucy had come to New York to be with Jeremy; Mom and Dad hadn't flipped out. Dad had even pulled strings to get Lucy into his alma mater. If anything, they'd been more upset when she broke up with Jeremy and came home.
"Are you going to marry her?" Mom asked.
"I hope so. Someday. Right now, we're both too young to think about stuff like that too seriously."
"You moved across the country, Simon," Mom repeated. "Don't you think that's serious?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off:
"How would you feel is some boy your age moved across the country to 'be near' Ruthie?"
"I would have questions," he admitted. "Why do you think Jake was here tonight? Why do you think he's kept in touch with me the past eight months. He told me the first time the three of us went out together that I'd better not hurt her, that she'd never had a real boyfriend before, and he didn't want me making promises I didn't intend to keep."
"I just can't believe you've thought this through." She rubbed her temples.
"I know, Mom. And I'm sorry you feel that way." But now, more than ever, he was determined to do this on his own, without any financial help from his parents. He appreciated his dad's offer, but couldn't let either of them have that kind of leverage over him.
He spotted a late-model sedan rounding the corner slowly like maybe—hopefully—the driver was looking for a specific address. This address.
"How long will you be in New York?" Simon asked his parents.
"Just until Thursday," said Dad.
"How about we get some lunch tomorrow?" Simon suggested.
Mom continued to look unhappy. Was it because she expected him to fight with them? Did she want him to be angry? He realized maybe he should be—but he was tired of feeling angry. Not just at them, but at Paul Smith for not wearing a helmet, at himself for the mistakes he'd made with Georgia.
Sandy.
A hundred other mistakes that if he hadn't made, he might not be here now. There would always be things he regretted, things he would do differently if he could.
But I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than where I am right now. And for that, he was grateful to God and whatever other forces in the Universe had brought him to where he was.
The car pulled up to the curb; Dad promised they'd touch base in the morning.
"I love you guys," Simon told them.
Mom flashed a tight-lipped smile; Dad looked….whatever he was feeling, Simon didn't envy him just then. Mom could be stubborn, especially when she was afraid something was out of her control.
Caroline stepped out onto the porch after they'd gone.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said softly.
"It's okay." Simon gathered her into his arms and held on tight. "They'll come around eventually."
"And if they don't?"
He shrugged. "Then they don't. But I hope they do." He kissed her forehead and thanked God again for whatever had brought him to the right place at the right time to meet this amazing person. "Why didn't you tell me all that?" He asked after a long, comfortable moment had stretched out between them.
Caroline looked up at him. "All what?"
"What everyone said inside. About being orphans, growing up together."
She smiled. "Those weren't my stories to tell, Simon."
He kissed her forehead. His parents would come around because she was a good person, because her family were good people. Mom and Dad would see that eventually.
….
Caroline leaned into Simon's strength for a long while. It was only when the door opened that she stepped away. "George is giving me a lift back home," she told Simon. She'd asked him inside.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, causing butterflies to dance happily in her stomach.
Love.
She knew some people thought she was too young to understand the kind of love she was sure she felt for Simon Camden. Even Uncle Fin had had a talk with her about how she had her whole life ahead of her, how she might meet someone else someday, lots of someone elses, really—all the same things Father and Grandfather had said. The things Uncle Devin had said, although his speech had included possibilities like climbing the Swiss Alps, because he hadn't been much older than she was when he did.
Nort of Shangri la and South of Oz.
She smiled. At Simon. At the thought of her father's older brother adventuring around the world even though she had no particular desire to follow in his footsteps. She smiled because the way Uncle Fin had talked to her. He loved her. He respected her. He honored her decision, but was there if she needed him—even if she had had to remind him that seriously, if Simon or any other boy ever tried anything stupid, the least of his worries would be Fin coming to arrest him.
Simon turned to George. "It was nice to meet you."
"Likewise. I'll call you tomorrow to set up our first lesson," George promised.
Caroline gave Simon a last hug, then fell into step with George. She turned at the end of the walk, butterflies still dancing happily in her stomach when she saw him still standing there, and waved good-bye one last time.
George unlocked the doors of his Malibu with the touch of a button on the key fob and Caroline slid into the passenger seat. "Thank you for not being judgmental," she said, when George slid in behind the wheel.
"It appears you're getting enough of that from Simon's parents." He started up the engine, waved to Simon, and eased away from the curb.
"You don't approve." Caroline could hear it in his voice, his choice of words.
"I don't think it's my place to approve or disapprove."
She gave him a penetrating look.
George sighed. "You are an extra ordinary young woman, Caroline."
"Young being the operative word?"
"You said it." He turned towards the highway. "But I meant what I said. It's not my place to approve or disapprove, and you have enough opposition already. I also imagine Detective Tutuola has weighed in on the subject."
"He has." She watched the city go by for a few minutes. "What was it like, the first time you met my father?"
"I was young. Ten or eleven, I think. I suppose that could have made it a mistake, but my parents had already taught me the value of keeping secrets from outsiders. In a way, Chinatown is as much removed from the outside world as the Tunnels. But even as a teenager, your father was a sight to behold."
"Were you frightened?"
"I was in awe, in the full range of emotion that word encompasses. You're wondering about how Simon will react?"
She nodded.
"If he loves you, he'll accept who you are. Who your father is."
She hoped he was right. "Are you going back to the police station?" she asked, as George merged onto the expressway."
"I should check in, but it's no trouble to drop you off at the park on my way."
"Is it okay if I go with you instead? I need to see Uncle Fin."
His brow creased, but otherwise, he held his face carefully neutral. "I hope everything's all right."
"I'm sure it is."
He didn't seem happy, but he didn't argue, either.
….
John Munch noticed them first. It was hard to miss Huang, whose presence always brought such joy to the squad (in other words, everyone who knew who he was, avoided him, and it had nothing to do with whose team he batted for, unless you meant the FBI vs. the local schlubs whose toes the feds were always stepping on). However, it was the young lady with him who seemed to be getting all the attention. Short, Caucasian, long strawberry blond hair, and looking entirely out of place in an expensive overcoat, leather bookbag, and too-big second-hand sweater with several obvious repairs in the stitching. Little Mary Sunshine's gaze darted around the room, like she was looking for someone, even as she clung close to Huang's side.
Interesting.
Even more interesting was that Huang seemed to be steering the kid in his direction. Munch rose to greet them. "Can I help you?" He looked from Huang to the girl and back again, trying to decide if he looked intimidating, towering over the kid.
"Is your partner around?" Huang asked.
"He's in a interview two, with Benson."
"You collared someone?"
"We were gonna call you after we figured out whether or not we were barking up the wrong tree." Much spit sat down on the edge of his desk; he was still taller than the girl, but at least he wasn't towering. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, softening his tone.
"I can wait," she answered.
"For?" said Munch.
"Detective Tutuola," she told him.
"It might be a while," Huang warned.
"I'll be fine. I know you both have work to do."
"I'll let him know you're here," Huang promised. He looked at Munch—then took his leave without a word more.
Munch looked down at the kid again. "Shouldn't you be home in bed or something?"
Her laugh surprised him. "Congratulations Detective—Munch, right?"
He blinked at both her laugh and her knowing his name. "I beg your pardon?"
"Hardly anyone realizes I'm young enough that I should have a curfew. And I do. But even if my parents don't know exactly where I am, they know who I'm with."
Interesting indeed. "Have a seat." He indicated the chair next to his partner's desk. "Can I get you a cup of hot chocolate or something?"
"Do you have tea?"
"It's not very good."
She smiled. "Why am I not surprised?"
He considered her for a moment. The kid was right. She didn't come off as a teenager, but he was pretty sure she wasn't much older than sixteen, seventeen at the outside. He got her a cup of what passed for hot tea and sat back down at his desk. "So, how do you know my name?"
"Caroline?" Fin's voice didn't quite boom across the squad room, but he was moving fast when he came out of the back.
"I'm fine, Uncle Fin, honest."
Uncle Fin?
Well, that was interesting.
He gave her an appraising look.
"If you think Simon—" her tone took on an anger Munch would not want to be on the other end of.
"Nah, of course not," Fin promised.
Her anger faded as quickly as it rose. "Sorry. I…his parents were at the house tonight. It wasn't pleasant."
"Everybody make it out okay?"
She snickered. "Jake managed to behave himself."
Fin laughed, too. "Well, I guess that's somethin'."
Caroline sat back down. Her smile faded as she pulled her bookbag into her lap and opened it. "I found this in my locker a few days before Winter Break." She handed Fin a folded-up piece of plain copier paper. "I thought it was just another stupid prank. You know what those girls are like. But…today…I think I…didn't quite see…." She cast a sidelong glance at Munch. "But… I was…aware of someone…I think," she added quickly. "It felt like somebody was watching me. In the park. I didn't find any tracks, but…."
With each word, Fin's brow creased a little harder. "You show this to anybody else?"
She shook her head. "I thought it was a prank," she repeated. "I didn't want to upset anyone, especially my parents."
Fin reached for a pair of latex gloves out of his desk drawer before carefully unfolding the sheet.
Munch leaned over his shoulder. "'Cut off your extremities'?" He read aloud. "You thought that was a prank?"
"You don't know the girls at my school, Detective."
"Language seems a little harsh for high school girls," Fin opined. "We need to let your parents know."
"Uncle Fin, you know what Father will say."
"Which is exactly why I want to show him—but I get it," he relented when her despair became palpable.
Benson, looking more than a little frustrated (no doubt by the case and their uncooperative perp), came out of the back with Huang on her heels. Whatever heated discussion they were having ended the second Benson laid eyes on Fin's little visitor.
"Caroline?" Liv questioned.
"Detective Benson. It's nice to see you again."
"Are you all right?" Olivia asked, rather than respond to the girl's almost too-polite hello.
"I hope so," Caroline answered.
Fin waved Huang over. "Would you take a look at something? You might need t' keep this under your hat," he warned, before handing over the note.
Everybody's (least) favorite spook shot a speculative look from Fin to the kid and back again while Munch tried in vain to connect the dots.
Benson leaned against Fin's desk and asked Caroline, "What's going on?"
"Hopefully nothing," the girl told her.
Munch studied the kid for a long moment. There was something about her. He couldn't put a finger on it, and he couldn't decide if it made him like her or suspect her, although of what, he would have been hard pressed to say.
Huang looked at Caroline. "Where did this come from?"
"My locker. Before Winter break. I thought it was just a prank."
"Girls at her school are pretty mean," Fin said. "Cathy and Vincent don't know. Squirt thinks somebody was watching her in the park earlier today."
"They don't know that, either," Caroline told him. "I didn't want them overreacting if it was nothing."
Huang's frown deepened. "This doesn't sound like an adolescent prank, Caroline." He regarded her a moment more, then told her, "I was young when all of this happened, but I've heard the story. Given the attack on Elliot Burch and Judge Gray this summer, and if you think you were being followed…. Where you near the storm drain?"
"Close enough," she said.
"Would somebody like to clue in the fly on the wall?" Munch queried. He'd gotten the gist of the note, but—
"Caroline is Cathy Chandler's kid," said Fin.
Munch appraised the girl with fresh eyes. The…incident…involving Catherine Chandler was from before he came to New York, but he was acquainted with the mysterious (suspicious) circumstances surrounding her kidnapping, rescue, and the subsequent recovery of her son, who must be Caroline's older brother, who happened to be billionaire bad boy Elliot Burch's godchild. It was an honor Burch shared with District Attorney Joe Maxwell. Because Maxwell was such an upstanding guy…. If anybody really believed that, Munch had a bridge to sell them. What he didn't know was how Fin factored in to all of this.
"You should get that to the lab," Liv suggested, but Fin shook his head.
"I can do one better. Huang, you mind taking Caroline home? All the way home." He aimed that at the kid, not Huang.
George nodded; Liv frowned.
Fin grabbed his coat. "Anybody asks, tell 'em I had something personal come up. I'll be back as soon as I can. And Caroline, you listen to Huang. This is bigger than you. Got it?"
"All right. But…I think I know where you're going. Jake was heading over there tonight. I'd rather he didn't know."
"This isn't something we can keep a lid on, Squirt. I'm gonna call Elliot on my way over, too. Let him and Amy know what's going on." He scooped Caroline up into a hug. "We got through this once before. We'll get through it again."
"I….I really thought it was a cruel prank. All of those people…they're gone, aren't they?" She looked from him to Huang. "It's not like my family's history is any secret. Please tell me I haven't somehow made this worse."
"Fin is right," Huang said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Your family got through this before. You'll get through it again. Olivia—"
"I'll cover for you," she promised. "Just…whatever's going on, be careful."
"Thanks, Liv," Fin told her, just as Craigen finally poked his head out of his office door.
"Is there something going on out here I should know about?" He sounded pissed.
Liv mouthed to Fin to "go", and he did.
Munch shrugged at their Captain, who looked a little more pissed with each step he took in their direction.
"Captain, you remember Cathy Chandler's daughter…?" Liv asked, before Craigen could say a word.
He frowned. Nodded. "What's going on?"
"Hopefully nothing," Huang told him. "Right now, I'm taking Caroline home."
"You all realize we're in the middle of something, right?" Craigen looked from one adult to another.
"I'll get back to our suspect," said Liv. She gave Caroline's shoulder a gentle squeeze and offered over a kind smile before she left.
Craigen looked to Munch again, but all he could offer was another shrug.
