A/N: Another warning, as this is the chapter where we meet James Anders' father. Not a nice man, and so not a happy chapter. Also, there are a few swear words, but they are few and far between and will not be a common occurence in this fic, so the rating stays as it is.
Patrick Anders was unconcerned as he waited for Horatio and Frankie to join him in the interview room. Frank Tripp was reading him his rights, and ensuring he didn't want a lawyer. Horatio was watching through an observation window, Frankie by his side. Calleigh and Eric were also there, all of them glaring at Anders. He looked innocent enough, a bluff, hearty man who was seemingly an all-American man. Horatio was pale, but looking steady enough. Frankie longed to talk to him, but knew that he would never accept her help unless he really wanted it.
"He doesn't look very upset, does he? His only son has just died, but he doesn't look like he's shed a tear," Eric said, his normally cheerful voice hard and angry. Calleigh was biting her lip and Frankie gave her hand a quick squeeze.
Tripp walked around to join them. "He doesn't want a lawyer."
"You were right, Frankie," Calleigh murmured.
"He doesn't think he's done anything wrong, so he doesn't need a lawyer. He doesn't see it as a crime," she replied.
"Then lets change his mind," Horatio snapped, heading out to the interview room. Frankie watched him with trepidation. This could get dangerous. She had never seen Horatio this tense.
"Mr Anders, I want to offer my condolences for your loss," Horatio opened with, his voice filled with that icy politeness that always masked his anger. Frankie slid into a chair and offered Anders a sympathetic smile. "This must be awful for you and your wife."
Anders nodded sadly, but his eyes showed no emotion. This was not the blankness caused by a surfeit of emotion, like his wife. This was the blankness of a cold man, who never gave a damn. Frankie only just prevented herself from shivering. "It's a terrible thing. James was always such a good boy."
"Perhaps you could tell us a little about him, such as who would want to hurt him like this?" Frankie asked.
"I don't know how much I can tell you. We've only just moved back down to Miami. We moved away for my job a few years ago, but Lynette wanted to move back once we got the chance. We were always such a close family. I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt James." His delivery was smoothly polished. If they hadn't had DNA evidence, Frankie would have doubted her own conclusions.
"James was a good cop. He was brave and intelligent. You should be proud of him," Horatio said, and exchanged a glance with Frankie as Anders' hand tightened around his coffee cup, and his eyes darkened with anger. Frankie nodded almost imperceptibly. This would be the trigger. Horatio carried on. "He was so good at his job, and so well liked around the force. Everyone spoke very highly of him."
"Did you just call me in so we can talk about how wonderful he was?" Anders said in a sharp tone.
"I'm sorry; I was just trying to reassure you that we will all miss James terribly. A sad loss," Horatio said, turning away to face Frankie. She smiled.
"Yes, he was always such a great guy to know. He was such fun, you know?" she asked, wondering exactly how far they should push him.
"Sleeping with him were you?" Anders had lost the smooth polished tone.
Their tactic was working. This type of questioning was not was he was prepared for. Frankie smiled to herself.He would have his lies ready if they had simply accused him. "No, of course not Mr Anders! Not that he wasn't very popular in that area," she added.
His hand tightened on the polystyrene cup again, this time crushing it. Horatio smiled grimly. "James was so popular, especially with the ladies, you're right." That appeared to be the last straw.
"He was not that bloody wonderful! He was a snivelling little momma's boy!" Anders spat the words out, and Frankie was alarmed to see Horatio step back. Then he recovered his composure and stared hard at Anders, prompting him to explain himself further. "Always agreeing with her. What a waste of space. I tried to make him into a proper man, I did, but he was always so cowardly."
"He was a very brave police officer," Frankie said quietly, knowing Anders needed little encouragement now. The floodgates had opened.
"Bullshit! That little runt could never do anything right! I tried to make him grow up properly, but he was always whining. 'Oh don't hit mommy! She didn't mean it!'" he said, his voice parodying a young boy's. "He deserved every thrashing I gave him. And that school nurse had the cheek to tell me I was being a bad father! I was doing my best for the boy, but I see now, he was always a lost cause."
"You had no choice." Frankie kept her voice quiet and calm, swallowing her anger for the moment.
"Exactly! And when we moved back here, he still hadn't changed. Always whining about my behaviour. What a little bastard." Anders paused for a moment, waiting for further encouragement. An understanding smile from Frankie was enough. "I had no choice. That little bastard had the cheek to try to fight back this time," he sneered, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a darkening bruise. "I showed him, though."
"When did you decide to rape him?" Frankie wondered whether this was going too far, but Anders wanted to talk now.
"That's not important, what matters is that I showed him who was boss." The man actually sounded pleased that he had beaten his own son to death! Frankie didn't dare look at Horatio.
"Does hitting people turn you on?" Frankie knew she was pushing her luck, but her anger was close to boiling point now, and she couldn't have stopped for the entire world.
Anders' head jerked up and he glared at her. "Are you judging me, you pissy little bitch? Sitting there all smug and self-satisfied, judging me?" Frankie stared back at him, determined not to show her sudden fear. "You little bitch!" he swore, standing up so suddenly that he knocked his chair over. Horatio was behind him instantly.
"I'd sit down, right now, if I were you," he said, his voice so low that Frankie had to strain to hear it. When Anders hesitated, Horatio put his hands on the man's shoulders and forced him into the other chair. "And I'd apologise to Ms Nelson for your language." Anders gave a hard, short laugh and made the mistake of meeting Horatio's gaze. Frankie couldn't see Horatio's face, and was pleased she couldn't when Anders looked away almost instantly and muttered an apology to her.
Horatio stalked over to the door and called in the uniformed officers who were waiting outside. "Take him – get him out of my sight." Then he was gone, striding quickly out of the room and, she suspected, out of the building.
