Author's note – Many thanks for all the reviews. I estimate there's only a couple of chapters left (plus an epilogue) and then it's all over. Let's hope everyone's still alive by the end of it…
And my biggest note of thanks goes to my very special friend (who shall remain nameless), whose idiocy, childishness and laugh-a-minute attempts to be big and clever at her special little group somehow makes me want to write even more. I'm sure she'd be tickled pink if she knew that she inspired me so much. Cheers!
Anyway, back to the regularly scheduled programme…
Somewhere in Between
Chapter 21 – Any Port in a Storm
"Hello? Anyone home?" Ryo paused for an answer as he stood, bag in hand after letting himself into the apartment. Silence greeted him and he sighed, resisting the urge to whistle a forlorn version of 'Happy Birthday' as he wandered through the apartment, looking for any signs of life. He'd already let go of the wild little fantasy he'd had on the ride home, of Dee waiting for him with open arms – possibly the best birthday present he could ask for. He knew that wouldn't happen, but he couldn't help growing a little incensed as he realised that there were no cards or presents from any of the people he thought of as his immediate family.
"Jeez, thanks for remembering, guys," he muttered out loud as he flopped into the armchair. His features quickly pulled into a frown.
"That's funny," he said under his breath as he studied the coffee table in front of him, now minus the framed photo of him and Dee. He couldn't see it anywhere else, leading him to the weary conclusion that it must have been broken while he was away. The silence did nothing for his already low mood and he left his seat and made for the kitchen. Once he'd started the kettle boiling he flicked on the radio and thumbed through the mail that someone had stacked for him on the counter. All bills and junk mail. No birthday cards here either.
Surely, Dee hadn't forgotten. The bulk of his cell phone in his pocket as he leaned against the counter reminded him how he could find out for sure, and he took the device out and dialled Dee's number before he could change his mind. His lover's voice came on the line without it ringing – his answer machine message informing his caller to speak after the beep. Ryo ended the call without leaving a message. Either Dee was somewhere where there was no signal or his phone was switched off. He tried Drake's apartment without success and as a last resort, the precinct, but no one knew where Dee was. Aside from walking the streets and calling in at all Dee's favourite haunts he had no choice but to wait and hope that the man himself would call.
He'd been home just over an hour when the front door opened and Laura came in, her face lighting up when she saw Ryo was back.
"Randy!" she exclaimed with obvious delight as she rushed over to him. "Happy Birthday!" She hugged him tightly before pulling away to rummage in her large canvas shoulder bag. From it, she produced a card and a beautifully wrapped gift.
"Awww, Tyler, you shouldn't have, really."
"Pish," she replied, waving away his concern. "After everything you've done for me? You deserve it."
"Well thanks. This is a really nice surprise." He started to tear the paper, quickly revealing a gorgeous and clearly very expensive black shirt. He had a pretty good idea how much it would have cost and he was genuinely surprised that she would spend so much on him.
"Tyler, this is fantastic. Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure. And hey, if you don't like it I won't be offended if you want to change it…"
"I love it," he interjected, grinning broadly. "You obviously know my tastes perfectly."
She smiled, blushing slightly. "Well I hope it fits." There was a sudden pause that she found herself rushing to fill. "So, Birthday Boy, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"
"No plans," he said with a slightly embarrassed smile. "To be honest, apart from you and my Aunt Elena, I don't think anyone else has actually remembered it's my birthday."
"What? Really?"
"Yeah, really. Well, not unless the kids are planning some kind of surprise party."
Laura nodded pretending to look thoughtful. "Well they've not mentioned anything to me."
"That's a no then."
Her expression was sympathetic. "Sorry. Was there anything from Dee?"
The detective shook his head. "Nothing. It's okay though, he forgets a lot of stuff. I can't say I'm too surprised."
It was a lie of course – Dee never forgot his birthday or their many anniversaries, which included the date they'd first met, the date they'd first kissed, the date they'd first slept together and so on. Even though they weren't exactly together, he'd expected that Dee would at least acknowledge the date to show that he'd remembered.
"Okay," Laura said, breaking into his thoughts. "If you get a better offer I'll understand, but would you like to go out for dinner tonight, my treat?"
Ryo smiled, touched by her offer of companionship. "That's sounds wonderful, but only on one condition."
"What?"
"You let me pay."
"But it's your birthday," she protested, giddy at how readily he had accepted her offer.
"Okay, I'll meet you half way. How about we go dutch?"
She nodded. "Agreed. In that case, you can choose the restaurant."
He mirrored her gesture with a smile. "Fine. I think I'll wear my new shirt."
She was almost relieved when he walked away so she could finally let her true elation show. This wasn't just dinner – this was a proper date.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Detectives Mazowski and Delaney drove to the Fourteenth Precinct occasionally trying to make idle chit-chat with the man in the back who gave brief, if any, responses. When they arrived he was shown to an interview room, where they left him alone while Delaney excused himself to make a call and Mazowski disappeared in search of coffee for them all. At least I'm getting coffee, Dee thought, knowing it was their attempt to not treat him like a complete criminal.
In his solitude his mind turned to Ryo. Beautiful, sweet Ryo. Part of him wanted Ryo here with him – his lover was strong, sensible, logical. He was also a hell of a lot more diplomatic - a definite asset at this present moment. The other part of him, however, wanted to shield Ryo from this mess he had now found himself in. That provoked a snort of derision, after all, shielding Ryo from his problems hadn't exactly been successful in the past. All he'd wanted to do was protect Ryo; to show him that he could cope and that there was no need for the equilibrium of their relationship to be upset by adverse events and yet far worse damage had been done.
How he wished he could turn back the clocks. He'd told Tyler he wanted Ryo back and he'd spoken nothing but the truth. Once he'd got this… this misunderstanding cleared up, he was going to do just that, even if he had to drive all the way to Elena's. His mind then turned to his husband's headstrong role model and he found himself wondering what she was advising Ryo to do about their current situation. Would she tell Ryo to leave him? He hoped not.
A long time ago, Ryo had been upset on the anniversary of his parents' deaths and, pre-empting this difficult period as she had done every year since the tragedy, Elena had organised a get-together for them at her home – a celebration of her brother and sister-in-law's lives. As usual it had worked, and seeing those that he loved all together had successfully lifted Ryo's dark mood. Dee had communicated as much to Elena and was surprised to see her shake her head in response.
"It's you, you know."
"What d'you mean?"
She inclined her head towards the living room where Ryo and Carrie were laughing together over some old photographs of them as children. "You've done that and you don't even realise it."
Dee frowned, not sure he understood. Elena smiled.
"You made him laugh, made him live. Just look at him. Every year we've done this, but this is the first time I've seen him looking genuinely happy, like the past doesn't eat away at him like it once did. It's because of you, Dee, whether you realise it or not."
He smiled, a little embarrassed by her praise. "I didn't do anything special other than love him. I think I've always loved him."
"Even when he didn't love you back?"
"Even then."
She smiled as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Then you were obviously meant to be together."
"You don't mind then?"
It was her turn to frown. "Mind what?"
"About Ryo being with a man. Believe me, not everyone is comfortable with the idea of their family members playing for the other team, so to speak."
The shaking of her head was emphatic. "How could we mind? Ryo is who he is. I'm just glad that he chose to be with you, Dee."
The dark-haired detective smiled genuinely this time, with no hint of embarrassment. "Well I guess that answers my question."
The sound of the door opening brought Dee out of his reverie. He watched as the cup of coffee was set down in front of him, said a quiet thanks, then briefly switched his thoughts back to Ryo to say a silent prayer that if Elena was still singing his praises, Ryo was choosing to listen.
He watched Mazowski slide a blank tape into the recorder on the side and set the machine going, before he turned around and sat down opposite his suspect. Mazowski and his partner had been nothing but civil despite their obvious awkwardness at the situation, giving Dee a sliver of hope that they hadn't completely written him off yet. Delaney entered, allowing the interview to begin.
"Detective McLain, for the record can you tell us what happened the night you met with Ms. Kelly Capland."
Dee knew the importance of being clear and concise – heaven knows he'd tripped up enough suspects in interviews when they'd been vague about any of the details of their statement. It didn't take long to run through the details – just as he'd done with Mazowski only a couple of days before. Delaney asked the next question when he'd finished.
"Did you go into Kelly Capland's apartment on that occasion?"
"No."
Dee noticed the subtle shifting of Mazowski's weight in his chair. This was it – he was going in for the kill.
"Detective McLain. Is there any way you can explain how your DNA and fingerprints have been found on things inside Ms. Capland's apartment?"
Dark eyebrows knitted together. "What things?"
"A cigarette packet and a smoked stub in the ashtray on her coffee table."
The frown gave way to a look of confusion. "The packet I can explain. I lit my last cigarette while we were outside talking. There were no trash cans around so Kelly offered to put it in the trash in her apartment for me. She took it off me before we parted."
"And the stub?"
Dee contemplated every possible scenario before he shook his head, beaten. "I can't explain that, but I never went inside the apartment. Were my fingerprints anywhere else? Any hairs, footprints?"
The other two detectives glanced at each other. "No," Delaney answered truthfully. "Nothing else."
It was obvious they hadn't wanted to admit something so obviously strange and their reaction was to push for more answers, Mazowski taking over where his partner had left off.
"Detective McLain, you mentioned you're on long-term sick leave at the moment. Can you tell us why?"
Dee stiffened. "I have type one diabetes. I was hospitalised because of a hyperglycaemic attack." He watched them nodding, their stoic expressions telling him they knew more. Clearly they'd been doing a lot of digging since Mazowski had first spoken to him.
"You were in the hospital some time. Is that normal for such an attack?"
His anger grew – they knew everything about him and now they had him pigeonholed as a mental case. "No, it isn't, but they were concerned about how I'd gotten so ill."
"And do they know now?"
Delaney wasn't prepared for the green-eyed glare he was suddenly faced with.
"You obviously know, so why don't you tell me?"
"Detective McLain, why don't you tell us why you tried to kill yourself," Mazowski asked, saving his partner from the death glare any longer.
Dee squeezed the cigarette packet he had been toying with momentarily and banged it on the table. "I didn't."
"We have a written statement from your psychiatrist confirming that you confessed to attempting suicide by deliberately withholding your insulin injections."
Dee stilled. They had his confession? The confession he had falsely made in order to get out of the psychiatric ward after his repeated protestations to the contrary had got him nowhere? He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. "That confession is false. I didn't try to kill myself. I have no idea how I ended up in that situation, but it wasn't deliberate. I only confessed because they weren't gonna let me out any other way and if anything was gonna drive me crazy, it was being locked up in there when I didn't need to be."
The partners exchanged subtle glances. Mazowski spoke first.
"So you have no alternative explanation?"
Dee shook his head, wondering how many times this situation was going to frustrate him. If only Tyler could remember seeing him do his injection when she'd spent the evening with him. Tyler… or Laura? The thought set his mind in motion and he all but forgot the other two detectives were there. He was certain he'd done his evening injection in front of her, yet she hadn't backed him up. Suddenly the answer seemed obvious. She'd wanted everyone to doubt him. Maybe… The next thought faltered, seemingly too preposterous, before it warily found completion. Maybe she'd had a hand in what had happened to him. His lack of insulin couldn't be explained, Tyler or Laura had shown that she wasn't who she said she was – why couldn't the two be linked? And if she was responsible for his situation, what was to stop her being guilty of attacking Kelly?
"Detective McLain? Do you have anything else you want to say?"
There was nothing else he could say that they'd want to hear. Things had clicked into place, but for him rather than them. "No… other than you're barking up the wrong tree."
Mazowski's expression hardened. "We'll see."
"Yeah? Surely you must be wondering why I'd come forward voluntarily if I'd done this?"
His eyes shot to Mazowski's partner just in time to catch the flicker of doubt pass across the younger man's expression. Maybe they didn't have him pigeonholed just yet. The older detective responded first, obviously not wanting to let Dee get under his skin.
"Indeed, and with respect, Detective McLain, it's just one of the many things about you that doesn't add up."
"Yeah? So what's my motive then?"
"Sexual," Delaney answered, drawing Dee's leaden gaze from the older man sitting next to him.
"Sexual?" Dee repeated with a slightly incredulous laugh. "Where the hell did you pull that one from?"
Mazowski clearly didn't appreciate his suspect finding humour in their theory. "When we first met, you told me you were gay, but that's not strictly true is it? You're bisexual, right?"
"Oh jeez," Dee said, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "You think I attacked a girl because of my choice of wording? Yeah I'm bisexual, but I'm married to a man for Christsakes! Is that not homosexual enough for you? When the hell did semantics constitute a decent motive anyway?"
He knew they were clutching at straws and it gave him confidence, despite his situation. He deliberately addressed Delaney, sensing that the younger of the two detectives was less comfortable with their current line of enquiry.
"Look," Dee said, continuing only when Delaney looked at him. "I think I know who might have done this. You're not the only ones who think things don't add up and trust me, I'm as determined to get to the bottom of it as you. I've lost my husband and I almost lost my life so I'm not gonna lose my freedom for something I haven't done. Just give me a couple of days and I'll give you some answers."
He studied the two men – the fact that they didn't protest immediately gave him some hope and he continued before they could voice any argument as to why they shouldn't listen to him.
"Come on, I'm not playing amateur detective here. This is my profession too. Two days, that's all I ask."
Mazowski now found himself on the receiving end of the hard green-eyed glare and realised he was again re-evaluating his opinion of the man in front on him. Before he responded, he stood up and walked over to the tape recorder and switched it off.
"Fine," he replied, aware that Delaney was staring at him in disbelief. "You've got two days, but believe me, we're gonna be continuing our investigation and the minute we get anything else on you, we'll be hauling your ass back in here, got it?"
Dee nodded, gauging from Delaney's reaction that Mazowski had done something very un-Mazowski-like by agreeing to his request.
"I hear you, and I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to pursue my own investigation."
Mazowski nodded. "Well, we'll see. You have two days."
Only when Dee was alone, locked in a cubicle of the precinct's men's room, did he allow his confident façade to slip. Sitting on the pan, he lowered his head into his hands, only to find the appendages were shaking.
"Jesus," he muttered, fumbling in his jacket pocket for his ever-present blood sugar monitoring kit. The finger prick test revealed he was low, the situation quickly remedied with a couple of glucose tablets, yet it did little to calm his shaking hands. A cigarette was his next possible solution and he hurried out of the building, determined to get some nicotine inside him as quickly as possible. It would surely help – but he knew it would only be a temporary solution. The only way to truly rectify things was to nail Tyler's ass, and soon.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Drake held his cell phone, the number dialled and ready to call. His thumb hovered over the call button, but he couldn't seem to find the willpower to actually press it. The pre-dialled number belonged to the pretty young thing he had been chatting to while waiting for JJ to pick him up after they'd split up to interview two separate witnesses in a shooting case. She'd written her number on his hand and told him to call, but so far the confidence had eluded him.
"Talk about chicken," he grumbled to himself, remembering a time not too long ago when he'd laughed at JJ for being shy around his new flame. "Okay, on the count of three. One… two…"
He never made three, the opening of the front door interrupting his count, much to his relief. The call could wait, for now at least.
"Hey, buddy. Been having fun?"
The dark-haired man looked over at him once he'd sufficiently fussed Bright as the dog circled at his feet.
"If you call being questioned on suspicion of attempted murder fun…"
"You're kidding, right?" Drake dropped his phone onto the couch beside him as he studied his friend's expression, only now realising that Dee looked pale and tense. "You're not kidding, are you?"
"Believe me, I wish I was," Dee replied, coming to sit in the armchair opposite his friend, knowing he had a very long story ahead of him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The immaculately-dressed waiter left once the two wine glasses had been sufficiently re-filled. Ryo watched him go, before his attention returned to the delicious steak in front of him.
"Are you having a good time?"
The blond looked up at his dinner guest and smiled. The food had been nothing short of excellent and he couldn't complain about the company, but something hadn't felt right and he knew exactly what it was. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he wished he were here with Dee instead; that they'd always spent each other's birthdays doing something special together, so instead he nodded.
"Oh yeah, wonderful. I'm so glad you suggested coming out."
Her smile changed to an all-out beam. "Me too. It's been a really good opportunity for us to finally spend some time together."
Ryo's own smile faltered a little in conjunction with the small frown that furrowed his brow. Laura didn't see it – her own eyes had returned to her meal, but Ryo noticed the faint blush on her cheeks. It seemed a funny comment to make and it was hard to know what to say in response. When she started up a conversation about the food, he let the thought go, putting it down to too much wine and a strange choice of wording.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"No change," Delaney reported as he replaced the handset in its cradle. He'd rung the hospital for an update on Kelly's condition, hoping for some good news since the rest of the day had yielded exactly nada in the good news department.
Mazowski nodded his head almost imperceptibly as he sat hunched over a stack of case files, the topmost one commanding all of his attention.
"Earth to Steve," Delaney said, leaning across the desk so he could wave his hand under the other man's nose.
"What?"
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Depends. Was it worth hearing?"
"No. Kelly's still unconscious and I'm starving. I'm gonna call at that Chinese takeaway with the cute girl behind the counter. You want me to pick you some up?"
Mazowski finally looked up. Diane probably would have cooked him something that would now be languishing in the oven, dried up and unpalatable. He hadn't called to say he would be late. She wouldn't be speaking to him anyway and Chinese sounded good.
"I'll come with you," he said decisively, standing and grabbing his jacket off the back of his seat. "It's time to call it a day."
Delaney grinned. "Good to hear it. I wasn't planning on coming back anyway."
They chatted about other cases as Mazowski drove them to the Chinese his partner had mentioned. Neither could remember the name of the establishment but as usual, it was rated by Delaney in terms of the attractiveness of the staff. Fortunately the food wasn't bad either. With delicious aromas seeping temptingly from the containers on Delaney's lap, Mazowski drove them to the other's apartment.
"Sure you don't wanna come in and eat?" Delaney asked once they had arrived and he was craning into the car, his order now separated from Mazowski's and balanced on top of his briefcase.
"Thanks for the offer but I'd better get back. I've probably got a fair bit of crawling to do."
Delaney grinned. "See? This is why I don't get married."
"Yeah, that and you haven't come across anyone stupid enough to ask you."
The younger man let the insult go, just pleased to see Mazowski finally smiling. His partner definitely found it harder to let go and accept that not everything could be solved in a day.
"Steve?"
"What?"
"You did the right thing today," Delaney said, his expression now serious. He knew his partner would know he was referring to the situation with McLain.
"You reckon?" the other man replied, scratching at a spot on his steering wheel. "I just hope we haven't given him two days in order for him to cover his tracks."
Delaney gave him a reassuring smile as he patted the roof of the car. "You worry too much, Steve. No wonder you're going bald."
"Yeah? So what's your excuse for being ugly, huh?"
Delaney stepped back onto the sidewalk and picked up his briefcase with his Chinese meal still balanced precariously on top. "You're breaking my heart, Steve. Now get outta here. My chow mein's getting cold."
He watched Mazowski drive off, wishing that the other man wasn't so burdened by the fact that he had let a suspect walk away. He, Delaney, had a strong feeling that they would find out the truth one way or another. They just had to be patient.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"So they've given you two days?"
Dee nodded as he leaned forward to stub his cigarette out. Drake had listened patiently to everything he had to say on the current problem. Hopefully now his friend would want to be part of the solution.
"So what've you got in mind? D'you think you can get Tyler to confess if you let her know you're onto her?"
The shake of his head was resolute. "I don't think that's an option. She's gone to some extreme lengths so far. I don't think she's gonna just put her hands up and say 'you know what? You're right. It was me.'"
"Good point," Drake acknowledged, still reeling from the revelation that Dee's so-called friend might have tried to kill him. "Shit, she's fucking crazy."
"Maybe. Either way, I gotta get to the bottom of this, and since a confession's not likely I'm thinking I'm gonna have to trick it out of her... somehow."
Drake looked thoughtful. "No angle yet, huh?"
"Nope. All suggestions greatly received."
The other man smiled. "Trust me, buddy I'm thinking. We gotta get you out of this mess."
Drake's choice of wording gave Dee a small boost – at least he didn't have to tackle this alone. They talked some more, but no real conclusions were reached and eventually, worn out by their respectively busy days, they settled down to a takeaway and a movie, agreeing to start afresh in the morning. Bicky rang later, to check how Dee was and inform the other man that he was leaving for camp in the morning and would be gone for three days. Dee didn't mention the other detectives' interest in him, instead reassuring the boy that his investigation into Tyler's real identity was progressing well.
After Drake's mood-brightening declaration of support earlier, having to lie to Bicky left him feeling low, then devastated when the boy reminded him of something that, in the ensuing chaos of being questioned, he had completely forgotten – Ryo's birthday.
He tried the apartment, and then Ryo's cell phone as soon as he got off the phone from Bicky, but neither brought him into contact with his lover. He contemplated sending a text message, but deemed it too impersonal and inadequate considering how he felt about the man in question. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn't gotten to speak to him. He certainly didn't want Ryo to know that he was the prime suspect in an attempted murder case. He retired to bed unhappy with no Ryo and no answer to his current problem, unaware that one of those situations would have changed before the night was out.
The clock was showing three nineteen when Dee's bedroom door flew open and Drake rushed in and started to shake the sleeping occupant by the shoulders.
"Dee! Dee! I got it!"
Dragged from slumber by this rudest of awakenings, Dee blinked until Drake was no longer surrounded by the fuzzy aura associated with post-sleep vision.
"Got what?" he answered groggily, "Jeez, buddy, you scared the shit outta me…"
"About Tyler!" Drake yelled, or at least it felt like yelling in Dee's fogged mind. The frantic man also seemed oblivious to the fact that he was still shaking his friend vigorously.
"Okay, okay, but let me go for Christsakes!" He scooted up the bed and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes, hoping the action would simultaneously clear his mind. "I'm guessing it's good since you woke me at…" He glanced quickly at the clock. "… twenty past three in the morning to tell me."
Drake's grin confirmed it as he paced in front of his friend. "Oh this is good, trust me. Two words: Waylan Anderson."
Confusion drew Dee's features into a sharp frown. "Excuse me?"
"Waylan Anderson? Serial killer and sick bastard extraordinaire?"
"Like I could forget…"
"The recent investigations. The remains found at the new sites Anderson told us about. When I looked through the files of missing persons that vanished around the same time Anderson committed the murders here in New York, there was one that could have been left out – Tyler Brown. I forgot to take her file out and it went to the lab with the rest of them."
Dee opened his mouth to speak but Drake stopped him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "We've made a positive ID on the remains – it's not her, but forgetting to take her file out got me thinking. What if it had been her? Your mystery impostor couldn't carry on pretending to be Tyler then, so if we can get her to admit who she really is and that she's a lying, scheming bitch, the Fourteenth Precinct's lot will realise they've got a better suspect in her than you. You said she and the attacked girl know each other, right?"
"Yeah, apparently so." He couldn't deny it – Drake's enthusiasm was contagious, and there was definitely merit in his plan. If she thought the real Tyler had been found dead, she'd have to break her cover. They'd found the perfect way to flush her out.
"So what d'you think?"
Dee nodded thoughtfully. "I think it's worth a try."
"Am I a genius or what?"
The dark-haired man now laughed. "Yeah, you're a regular Einstein, Parker."
"Wanna work out some details?"
Dee glanced at the clock again, the glowing digits now proclaiming that it was three twenty four. He doubted he'd be able to get back to sleep now anyway. "Sure, why not. Sleep is for the weak, huh?"
Drake winked as he bounced off the bed. "That's my boy! I'll get the coffee on." He stopped at the door and grinned, his energy drawn from the buzz of finally forming a plan. "We've got her, Dee."
The man in the bed stared after his friend once he'd gone, the thought occurring to him that this was possibly just some crazy, albeit incredibly vivid dream. Dream or not, he decided to go along with it and, with the aroma of coffee starting to waft in from the kitchen, he climbed out of bed, grabbing his cigarettes as he headed to the door.
TBC…