Author's note - Apologies for leaving you with another cliffhanger - this was all supposed to be part of the last chapter but it turned out too long! Ah well, near the end now... -Swordy

Somewhere in Between

Chapter 23 – Past History

There was a faint odour of sweat, unsurprising when you considered the clientele that largely made up the population of the waiting area in the Fourteenth Precinct. Lori Hanson opted to stand slightly apart from the others waiting for police assistance while the officer on the front desk got a message to the detectives she had mentioned by name. She just prayed that if they were there, they wouldn't keep her waiting too long.

"Miss Hanson?"

She jumped slightly, unaware that someone had come up behind her, and turned to take in the tall man with red-blond hair. He wore a shoulder holster over his blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to compensate for the lack of air conditioning, and a horrible green and yellow patterned tie. It was all she could do to drag her eyes away from the colour clash on his chest and meet his pale blue eyes. He wasn't exactly handsome, but he had a friendly face that she warmed to straight away.

"Detective Mike Delaney." He stuck out his hand, which enveloped hers as she shook it. "Would you like to come with me?" They walked out of the waiting area and through a set of doors marked 'personnel only'. "Sorry to keep you waiting. In fact, you were lucky to catch us – we were just on our way out."

"Oh, sorry."

He grinned as he held the next door for her – the perfect gentlemen. "Don't be, especially if you have any information that might help with one of our cases."

The office they stepped into reminded her of the cop shows she saw on TV – packed with furniture and slightly chaotic. Every wall was covered with papers relating to the hundreds of cases old and new that they had on record and a white board that took up most of one wall held a plethora of information about the detectives' movements written in a multitude of different colour pens. In the top corner, some smart-ass had scrawled: 'Join our fast-paced team – we have no time to train you.'

"Please, have a seat." He had obviously given up his own chair as in order to accommodate himself, he had to move a large stack of case files from a plastic foldaway chair in the corner. "My partner will be along in a minute. Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Water?"

Lori shook her head. "No thanks." It was clear that she wanted to get on with things. Delaney had barely poured himself a cup of coffee when Mazowski entered. Once the introductions had been made, Lori started on her story, explaining how both Kelly and Laura were work acquaintances of hers.

"If you speak to anyone else at Henderson's, you'll know that most people were glad to see the back of Laura. She disliked everyone it seemed, although Kelly was a particular enemy because she quickly got promoted above her. Laura had… well a bad attitude. She could never understand why she didn't get promoted too, but it was blatantly obvious to everyone else."

"Was there any trouble between them at work?" Mazowski asked, leaning back in his seat.

"What, like a fight?" Lori shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Just the usual bitchy tension you get when you have a lot of girls working together."

Delaney contemplated this, thinking that a predominantly female workforce sounded like heaven. "So what about Kelly – are you and her good friends?"

Again she gestured in the negative. "We got on well, but we were more like work acquaintances than friends. I never saw her outside of work, I mean. We used to work in the same department together early on, which is how I know her. I don't see so much of her anymore – we just have lunch together every now and again."

"So how did you come to know about this recent situation between Kelly and Laura? They weren't working together by then I take it?"

"No. Laura had left and no one had seen anything of her since the day she decided to quit. One day Kelly mentioned she'd seen her on the street with a couple of teenagers and she'd shouted to her. Laura ignored her and Kelly had forgotten all about it until the teens came into Henderson's asking questions about Laura, or Tyler as they knew her. Kelly then came to me because I have access to the personal files." She looked anxious at her admission.

"We won't say anything to your employers," Mazowski assured her. "That's of no interest to us, but we would like to know what you found and what you told Kelly."

Lori nodded, the grip on her purse loosening at the promise that she would not be in trouble. "In Laura's file there was information that indicated Laura Burns was not her real name. She's really called Stacey Kleppel. And one of her references was from a Doctor Steven Hitchens, a psychiatrist from Denver. There was also a letter from him asking that Stacey be allowed to use the name Laura Burns until the paperwork was completed to make it legal, and that he was to be contacted if there were any concerns about her. I didn't tell Kelly any of that – just that Laura had already gone under an assumed name before."

"Miss Hanson, could you get us those contact details from Laura's file?"

Lori opened her purse and took out a piece of paper with a neatly written name and phone number on it, which she handed to Mazowski. "I thought you might want it."

"Is there anything else you think we should know?" Delaney asked while Mazowski studied the details Lori had given them. The girl chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment before she shook her head. "I can't think of anything that I haven't already told you." She held Delaney's gaze. "I'm certain she's the person you want, detectives. I feel responsible for putting Kelly in danger – I honestly didn't think Laura would do something like this. Please, get her."

"Rest assured, Miss Hanson, if Laura Burns is responsible then she'll pay."

The girl nodded. "Good. I'll leave my number if you need to contact me about anything."

She made to stand up, prompting the detectives to do the same. "Well, thank you for coming in," Delaney said, moving to get the door for her. "We appreciate it and we'll be sure to call if anything happens."

Once she'd gone there was silence as the detectives began processing this information. A girl in her early twenties on her third identity? From what Lori Hanson was saying, it certainly warranted further investigation. Delaney glanced across at his partner and knew by the downturn of his eyebrows and the crease of a frown across his usually unblemished forehead that he was thinking the same thing. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"So what d'you make of that?" He leaned back on the desk, trying to recall another case where they'd had so many unexpected witnesses just walk through their door with leads. "I'm thinking if Laura, or Stacey, has something to hide about her real identity and Kelly somehow communicated that she knew something, even something as small as her original name, it might be enough to send her into a frenzy."

"Sounds possible," Mazowski agreed. "It certainly seems to be a promising lead."

"More promising than McLain?"

Mazowski made a face. "Why do I get the feeling you don't want it to be him?"

"So sue me, I like the guy." Delaney gave an insouciant shrug. "And besides, he's a cop."

"Not all cops are good, Mike."

"Now you're making it sound like I've gone soft. Well, if you want my honest opinion, which I know you do, I think he is one of the good guys, but that wasn't what I meant. I was referring to the scene – hell, what cop would wipe away all finger prints but leave a whole heap of his DNA lying around in an ashtray? It was staged, and an amateurish attempt at that. Someone wanted to frame him – someone who thought they could kill two birds with one stone, literally, after they thought they'd done away with Kelly."

Mazowski held out the piece of paper. "Do you want to make the call or should I?"

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Drake shut the door on his next-door neighbour, brandishing the screwdriver she had just returned. As he turned he could see Dee's disappointment, both of them having thought that the knock at the door signified the arrival of the cops from the Fourteenth.

"Jesus, what's taking them so long?"

Drake scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I dunno. You wanna call them?"

"No." Dee broke their eye contact to look at Bright who was lying with his head in his master's lap. "I need to get out for a bit so I'm gonna take Bright for a walk. You okay waiting here for them?"

"Sure, buddy."

"Come on then," Dee said, addressing the dog, who had already woken up at the sound of the 'w' word. "Let's go give some trees a shower."

He set off with his constant companion, instantly feeling better once outside the apartment where conversation had been killed by the cloying air of anticipation and expectation. Seeing the dog so happy to be running and sniffing and panting so hard it looked like he was laughing was enough to lift Dee's mood and he decided to walk further than he'd intended, figuring the detectives, should they arrive, could wait just like they'd kept him waiting for them.

To keep himself from slipping back into melancholy, he let his mind wander to his dinner date, a mere twenty four hours away. Although his mind told him to be cautious, it held the promise for so much and he couldn't help but visualise them together, alone at last. He wanted it to work so badly.

When he'd been in his early twenties, he'd lived with a woman for almost twelve months. Although marriage hadn't been discussed, he'd thought that they had a good relationship and as a result, he'd conceded that she was 'the one'. When the relationship had broken down after two and a half years together, his first instinct was that her leaving would be catastrophic and he had to do everything in his power to make her stay. They'd talked, agreed to try again but it hadn't been long before things had ended permanently. With hindsight, Dee knew that his heart had never truly been in the fight to keep their relationship alive.

Other affairs had fared similarly – he enjoyed them until they went wrong then he'd realise that he had no desire to see them fixed. At least he was always certain when it was time to move on.

Ryo, on the other hand, was different. He'd never desired anyone as much as he had Ryo, and now that things had hit the rocks, the thought of just walking away was obscene. He knew he'd invest everything he had into bringing his unconventional family back together. That was why he knew Ryo was 'the one'.

He twisted his wedding ring around on his finger. For better or worse they'd said. He nodded resolutely. They'd done worse – now it was time for better.

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Delaney drummed his fingers while he waited to be connected. With the phone cradled in the crook of his neck he turned his attention to the wrapped candy he suddenly spotted in his open desk drawer. He had just succeeded in unwrapping it when a voice came back on the line. His mouth – open in anticipation of receiving the chewy treat – formed words instead.

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"Thank you for holding. Unfortunately Dr. Hitchens is in with a client now and he absolutely refuses to be disturbed. Can I get him to call you?"

Delaney successfully stifled his sigh of frustration. "That would be great." He gave the secretary his name and cell phone number before hanging up. Mazowski was now watching him expectantly, having just come in.

"Well?"

Delaney looked at the sweet on his desk longingly before concluding that it could wait a little longer. "First he wasn't there, then the line was busy for ages. Now he's there but he's in with a client and she said on no uncertain terms would she interrupt him. Best I could get was she'd get him to call me when he was done."

"You must be losing your touch, Mike."

Delaney scowled. "I knew you should have made the call. She sounded like the type who prefers old men."

"Um, don't you mean older?"

Delaney feigned a look of wide-eyed innocence as he popped the candy into his mouth and chewed noisily, deliberately ignoring his partner's last comment. Mazowski rolled his eyes as he grabbed his jacket of the back of his chair.

"Come on, we're late. McLain's already waiting for us."

The two detectives travelled across town in a patrol car. Delaney's pride and joy was in the shop and the car enthusiast moaned endlessly about everything from the transmission to the lack of air conditioning while he drove. Mazowski listened with his typical patience, his mind occasionally drifting from his colleague's complaints to their current case. He didn't want McLain to be guilty either. He liked the man, thought he was genuine and strong in the face of everything he'd been through. And not that he would say it out loud, but he was fairly confident that they'd be able to eliminate him after this little piece of undercover work.

"Okay, we're here," Delaney announced, once the address on the apartment block matched the one he had written down on the piece of paper propped up on the dashboard.

They took the elevator up to the correct floor and found Drake Parker's apartment, Mazowski rapping on the door once they were certain they were at the right place. Dee answered, his expression not altogether welcoming.

"I thought you'd have been here sooner," he commented once Drake had been introduced – the indirect way of saying 'where the hell have you been?'

"Sorry, we got caught up trying to chase up some new information. We've found a psychiatrist that seems to have worked with our suspect."

Both men noticed Dee's immediate defensiveness, despite thinking that he would surely be pleased by the news.

"While I'm glad you've got a new lead, I wouldn't place everything on the fact that she's had psychiatric help." Dee folded his arms across his chest as he perched on the arm of the couch.

"Well yeah," Delaney replied, trying to make amends. "At least we might be able to find out a little more about her – maybe understand why she keeps changing her name." He explained what they did know and how, by speaking to the man named in the letter in her file, they hoped to uncover a motive for the assault and maybe come to understand why she tricked her way into Dee's family.

They all fell into thoughtful reflection for a moment before Dee spoke. "Well, the wire's in place and Ryo should be on his way to work so I'm ready to go." There was a determination in his eyes that none present could miss. After a final check of the equipment, he headed for the door.

"Good luck, buddy." Drake laid a hand on his friend's arm. "Keep thinking about tomorrow.

Dee nodded, Ryo never far from his mind. "Trust me, I'm counting the hours."

When Dee had gone Drake turned back to the men cluttering up his living space.

"What's tomorrow?" Delaney asked, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over the back of the couch.

"He's meeting Ryo for dinner so they can talk about their relationship. He loves Ryo," Drake added firmly, "so you're barking up the wrong tree with your sexual motive. Dee waited for Ryo for over two years, never giving up hope that they could be together and never looking at anyone else during that time. Can you imagine that?" He happened to glance at Delaney at that moment. "Why in hell would he do that to throw it all away at a moment's notice?"

Delaney knew his partner would have indignantly argued in defence of their reasoning, but it was obviously a battle they were destined to lose. Mazowski might be the sensible, logical one, but he was often the more diplomatic member of their partnership.

"So how long have they been together then?"

Drake looked thoughtful for a moment. "I dunno exactly. A few years, married for nearly one."

"Have you and Dee been friends a long time?"

Drake smiled, sensing genuine interest rather than investigative questioning. Besides, neither he nor Dee had anything to hide. "Oh yeah. I joined the Twenty Seventh the same year as Dee and we both made detective at the same time."

"But you weren't partnered together?"

"No. I went into narcotics for a while and when I moved to homicide Dee already had a partner. When Dee's partner transferred I expected to work with him then, but our chief had other ideas. Dee was put with someone who was about to join our department from another precinct. The new guy was of course Ryo. He had an excellent track record and a reputation for being exceptionally well-organised." Drake laughed. "I think the chief hoped some of Ryo's orderliness would rub off on Dee. I don't think he thought for a minute they'd end up married."

"But your chief's okay with it?" Delaney asked as Mazowski studied the raft of equipment set up on Drake's kitchen table.

"Sure. They work well together. Or they did until that bitch came along."

Drake's undisguised hatred made it difficult to know what to say in response, so the two detectives were glad when Delaney's cell phone suddenly burst into life. He stood to answer it, the number unfamiliar on the phone's display.

"Detective Delaney? This is Doctor Stephen Hitchens from the New Town Medical Institute. I believe you wanted to speak to me about one of my former patients?"

Delaney suddenly became animated, nodding in response to Mazowski's questioning gaze. "Doctor Hitchens, thank you for getting back to me. The patient's name is Laura Burns or you may remember her as Stacey Kleppel."

"May I ask why you want the information? Patient records are usually confidential."

"It's a long story," Delaney answered, wandering away from his audience so he could concentrate. "So I'll summarise it as best I can. Stacey, or Laura, has been assuming the identity of a girl called Tyler Brown for several months now, we believe, in an attempt to get close to someone. She's infatuated with this guy, despite the fact that he's gay and there's a strong possibility she may have tried to kill his partner. She's also a suspect in an attempted murder on a former work colleague who may have been about to expose her new identity. We were shown a letter from you where you ask her employers to allow her to go by the name of Laura Burns until the change became legal. Is all this making sense?"

There was silence and for a brief moment Delaney thought he'd been cut off. "Doctor Hitchens?"

"I'm here." A weary sigh preceded his response. "And yes, unfortunately it's all making sense, although I wish to God it wasn't."

While Delaney was on the phone in the other room Mazowski and Drake tried to make small talk, but the conversation was stilted as they waited for news. Drake thought Mazowski's patience looked at an end when Delaney returned, cell phone still in his hand.

"Well? You sure took your time."

Delaney dramatically blew a puff of air through the hair that normally fell across his eyes. "Gimme a break. He had plenty to say. All I can say is: I think we've found our perp…"

Drake glanced at Mazowski, wondering if the older man's partner was prone to exaggeration.

"… and I think we need to warn Dee."

Drake suddenly hoped he was. He held up his hand to stop Delaney speaking. "Phone Dee first and tell him what he needs to know. Then you can fill us in."

Delaney looked at his partner who nodded his agreement. He dialled the number into his cell as Drake called it out, before an ominous silence – save the ringing phone – descended.

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Dee headed for the subway, weaving through the throngs of people who moved at varying speeds towards the entrance. He could feel himself walking faster than usual, as if his quickened pace would take him nearer to this whole sorry mess being over with and his eagerly anticipated dinner date with his husband. He reached the subway station, about to descend the stairs when his cell began to ring in his pocket. He pulled out the device, glanced at the unfamiliar number and answered it with a curt, "Yeah?"

"Dee? It's Mike Delaney. I've got some important information. You're not at the apartment yet are you?"

"No, not yet."

"Okay, good. Well, that doctor I called got back to me. Have you heard of erotomania?"

He hadn't. "Is that why she's under a psychiatrist?"

"Well, yeah and no. In layman's terms, which is how he explained it to me, a person with erotomania is basically a stalker, but unlike your common or garden psycho, they genuinely believe the person they're stalking loves them back and is having a relationship with them."

Dee frowned. "So she believes she's actually in a relationship with Ryo?"

"I think so. It also explains why she might be behind what happened to you. If she saw you as a threat, then it makes sense for her to try and get rid of you."

On the bustling street, Dee did his best to process what he was being told. "Wait... what if she said anything to this effect to Ryo? Did he say how she would react if someone tried to set her straight?"

"She just wouldn't believe him, simple as."

"Okay, what if he told her we were meeting tomorrow to attempt a reconciliation?" He heard Delaney sigh and the sounds of intense conversation in the background.

"Then she could become dangerous. Listen, Dee, we're just talking now. We think maybe we should just abandon this undercover work, bring her in and question her anyway."

"Okay, but how does this doctor know all this? What prompted him to diagnose her?"

"He's been treating her since she was fifteen, apparently when she was involved in a joint suicide pact with a boy at her school. She survived but the boy didn't. She said they did it because his parents were trying to keep them apart. Thing is, his parents didn't even know about her, nor did any of the kids at school know they were together. Even his best friend said he'd never mentioned that he was seeing anyone. That amount of collective suspicion prompted the police to investigate, but there was no evidence and therefore no charges. The boy's verdict of suicide still stands…"

"Wait, wait," Dee interrupted. "You're saying they think she killed him? Why the hell would she do that if she was in love with him?"

"From what the doctor was saying, the more extreme cases have the 'if I can't have them no one can' mentality. Maybe it was one rejection too many and she flipped. She was just lucky – or unlucky depending on how you view it – that her own suicide attempt failed."

The niggling feeling he'd had that something was wrong suddenly got stronger. "Is Drake there?" he said quickly, his heart now a loud staccato in his chest. "Tell him to ring the precinct. I wanna know that Ryo's definitely there."

"Yeah, sure…"

"Now." He was surprised by how aggressive he sounded, but he knew the fear he felt would not be appeased until he was certain that Ryo was safe. He heard Delaney relay the message to his colleague, communicating a similar sense of urgency. The wait seemed excruciating and Dee could only listen as Drake was connected to the precinct, ringing the direct line in their office.

"No answer," he heard his friend say.

"Get him to try the front desk. They'll know if he's turned in for his shift."

"He's already on it," Delaney answered.

Unable to do anything, Dee mentally cursed the traffic, its relentless noise preventing him from hearing Drake's conversation in the background.

"Dammit," he growled, pacing as he waited for Delaney to come back on the line. Every minute that ticked by seemed to reinforce his belief that something was wrong.

"Dee?"

"Yeah. Is he there?"

He heard Delaney's hesitation, obviously in response to the desperation in his own voice. "No, he's not. According to your desk officer, a female who didn't identify herself rang in earlier to say he was sick and wouldn't be coming in."

"Ryo didn't come to the phone at all?"

There was a pause as Delaney relayed the question to Drake, still on the phone to the precinct.

"No, she said he was sleeping."

Dee swallowed hard, that last comment chilling him in a way he could not put words to. "Something's wrong. I've got to go –"

"Dee! Stay where you are. We're coming over," Delaney instructed, although he didn't hold out much hope of the other man actually listening. Even as he was speaking he could hear the sound of running feet hitting the sidewalk. "Dee? Dee!"

Delaney flipped his phone shut with a growl of frustration. "He cut me off. Fuck." He turned to the other two. "We gotta get over there. He won't wait."

"You can't blame him," Drake replied as he snatched up his car keys. "He'd die for Ryo."

Delaney looked at him grimly, having first glanced at his partner's equally concerned expression.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

TBC…