Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of The OC. They all belong to Josh Schwartz.
A/N: Sequel to "A Bitter Pill": Bob Stankey, head of the group home Ryan stayed at for six months, is ready to stand trial for second-degree murder due to depraved indifference in the death of a teenage boy in his care. Ryan is set to take the stand and testify against Stankey, facing the man who abused him.
This story takes place three months after "A Bitter Pill" ends. Ryan and Luke are friends and attending the public school while Seth is attending Harbor. I'm taking some "liberties" with the time and understand that it would be more like a year or longer for any trial to begin. But, I didn't want to fast forward an entire year so, in this story, the legal justice system works at lightning speed. :-)
This chapter is basically the turning point in my story with Sandy and Ryan reuniting. There will be a light at the end of the tunnel for Ryan. I promise!
A heartfelt "thank you" to matthewsbj, Ally R. Swan and the guest reviewers for the positive feedback. I really appreciate it! It helps me keep writing. :-)
Chapter 8
Sandy paces back and forth. He feels agitated. He wants to see Ryan. He needs to be with Ryan.
"Sheriff, I have to be in the room with him," Sandy states emphatically.
"I know you do," Ray replies. "But I need to keep that boy's trust. It was just this morning he told me he didn't want to see you."
"I know, but it's not what he really wants," Sandy says. "I know Ryan. He's scared. He's hiding..."
"Exactly. He's hiding something, or from someone, and he's scared," Ray states in agreement. "Let me have a few minutes with him. I want Ryan to acknowledge that he does, in fact, need you to be with him. If that happens, I know the boy will open up."
Sandy runs his hand through his hair and sighs. "You're right. I do understand the need for trust. It's been a struggle to get Ryan to trust me and Kirsten. What that kid has been through with his father and his mother, and his mother's unending string of horrific boyfriends..."
"Believe me, I've seen my share of abused kids. Some lash out, some retreat, some do both. It's a coping mechanism," Ray says, sharing empathy with the distraught father. "But I truly believe Ryan trusts you. The boy just has to realize this. He needs to understand that it's okay to accept help. He doesn't have to shoulder this burden alone."
"I know that Ryan has slipped back into his self-preservation mode," Sandy says, recalling all the times the boy would just shut down. He would have nothing more to talk about. He remained quiet. He was done. It's a typical behavior in a kid who's been abused, either physically or emotionally. In Ryan's case, it was both.
"This trial... prepping for it," Sandy continues, recalling all the hours spent with the State Prosecutor, Mike Nolan, going through Ryan's testimony over and over and over... "The boy is exhausted. And if he was indeed threatened to change his testimony? I think he might be just giving up." Sandy feels tears well up in his eyes as he tries to shake off the uneasy feeling of dread rising inside him. "I'm afraid Ryan is giving himself up."
Ray places his hand upon Sandy's shoulder and looks the man square in his eyes. "But we're not going to let the boy give up, are we."
Sandy looks at the sheriff intently and firmly replies, "No, we are not."
"All right, this glass is one-way," Ray says, pointing to the window separating the hall from the interrogation room. "You'll be able to see Ryan but he won't be able to see you."
Sandy steps forward and places his hand upon the window. As he gazes longingly through the glass he observes Ryan sitting at a table next to his PD, George O'Reilly. The boy's head is lowered. He looks withdrawn... despondent.
Please Ryan, talk to the sheriff. You can trust him...
"What can you tell me about Mr. O'Reilly?" Ray asks before entering the small interrogation room. "I don't recall ever dealing with him before."
Sandy peers through the window and watches his colleague peruse through some papers, trying to look busy... or even interested. The once severely overweight man is now thin, almost too thin, thanks to a wife who changed his diet to low-fat, low-sugar and high fiber after her husband's heart attack. George calls it torture. But he was able to celebrate his milestone birthday of fifty years with his family and friends. To Sandy, that alone would seem worth it.
Sandy removes his hand from the glass window and looks at Ray Hicks, his dark blue eyes serious and focused. "George will do the bare minimum. He will do all he has to do and nothing more," Sandy states somberly. "I'm looking into hiring a private defense attorney for Ryan. A friend of mine from college."
"Well I'm hoping that Ryan won't need any legal counsel if what I'm thinking happened to him actually happened."
"You mean, because he may have been coerced into changing his testimony," Sandy says.
"Exactly. If there's one thing a judge hates more than someone lying on the stand, it's witness tampering," Ray states as he begins to make his way into the interrogation room. "But it will all depend on what Ryan is willing to tell us."
Ray Hicks enters the small room and makes his way over to Ryan and the Public Defender.
"Sheriff," George O'Reilly says, nodding to the exceptionally tall man as he enters the room. "What is so urgent? I need to prep my client for the plea hearing tomorrow."
"You might want to see about getting that postponed," Ray states as he sits down at the table across from Ryan.
"Postponed? I don't understand..."
Ray removes the 8 by 10 print-out of the black van and places it on the table directly in front of Ryan.
"Ryan, do you know anything about this van?" Ray asks gently while tapping his finger on the picture. The last thing he wants is to put the boy on the defensive, but he also knows he may have no choice.
Ray watches as the color drains from Ryan's cheeks. He observes the boy immediately make himself inaccessible; crossing his arms firmly against his chest and turning his head away.
"Sheriff, I demand to know what this is about," George O'Reilly states firmly.
Ray ignores the under paid, over-worked lawyer and keeps his eyes focused on Ryan.
"Ryan, this van was captured on security footage slowly circling the student parking lot," Ray says. "And according to my timeline, you were seen exiting the school right before the van pulled in. But the security camera only has footage of the parking lot entrance. You were supposed to wait for Luke by his truck, is this correct?"
Ray waits a few moments for a reply, but gets nothing.
"I don't see what this van has to do with my client," the Public Defender says, his patience running thin.
Ray turns to the agitated lawyer and looks him square in the eyes. "Mr. O'Reilly, I'm on your side. I'm trying to help your client."
"Really? You're on my side? My client has signed a written confession," George says, completely exasperated. "I have to figure out how to keep this kid's sentence down to two years in juvie."
"Well, while you do that, I'll work on getting the perjury charge dropped," Ray says, annoyed with the lawyer. Sandy was right. The man isn't interested in the truth. He's only interested in getting a case off his desk so he can go on to the next one.
"Ryan, this van," Ray again puts forth in the softest tone of voice he can muster up. "It would explain a lot, yes?"
The sheriff lets out a frustrating sigh as the boy continues to remain silent. He's come to a dead end. He knows it's time to play the "Sandy" card.
"Ryan, I truly feel that Sandy needs to be here with you."
Ray detects a slight flinch of the boy's right shoulder. He may have hit a nerve.
"Sandy is your legal guardian," Ray continues. "Why don't we have him come in..."
"Sandy is home," Ryan states, his head still lowered as he refuses to make eye contact with the sheriff.
"No, Sandy is here," Ray says. "He's in the hallway..."
"He's here?" Ryan asks slightly panicked, his head darting up to look at the sheriff. "You told me he went home. He's supposed to be home."
"Sandy has been helping me..."
"He's supposed to be home with Kirsten and Seth," Ryan states, feeling angry that he's been lied to.
"Ryan, Sandy is here to help you..."
"No! He has to be home..."
"I don't understand, Ryan," Ray says calmly, sensing the boy's mounting agitation. "Kirsten and Seth can take care of themselves..."
"No, you don't understand," Ryan says as he lowers is head again and folds his arms even tighter against his chest.
"Then please, help me understand."
Ray observes the distraught boy as he pulls back even more; trying to make whatever is distressing him to miraculously go away. He knows he's pushing Ryan to the edge of a cliff. And the boy is looking down, watching warily as the ocean's icy waves crash violently against the rocky crags below. If he loses his footing, he'll fall to his death. But Ray wants Ryan to know that if he does lose his footing, an arm will reach out... a hand will grasp onto his hand and he will be pulled up to safety. That arm... that hand... belongs to Sandy Cohen.
"Ryan... please..."
Ryan pulls his arms as tight as he can against his chest. But this situation will not go away. None of this will ever go away.
"You don't understand..."
"Ryan, you are not alone here," Ray says. "You need to start trusting the people who care about you."
A heavy silence fills the small room. The sheriff doesn't know if he's ever dealt with someone so willing to remain quiet. But he keeps his focus on the boy. He knows he will eventually open up. He has to.
"Ryan, you can trust me. And you can trust Sandy..."
"Okay," Ryan whispers. He's tired and he knows the sheriff is right. He trusts Sandy. He even trusts the sheriff. But his Public Defender? He's not too sure about. "I don't think I can do this anymore."
Ray watches as the boy struggles with something weighing heavy on his mind. He knows Sandy can see the same thing. He needs to get the man into this room.
"But..."
"But what?" the sheriff asks.
Ryan raises his head and looks intently at Ray Hicks. "You have to promise me you'll keep them safe."
Ray looks at Ryan, slightly confused. Keep who safe. He has no idea. But he has no choice to agree. "I promise. I will keep them safe. You have my word."
Ryan nods his head to the sheriff. Now they have an understanding.
Ray raises his arm and signals to Sandy to enter the room. The door opens and Sandy appears, his face concerned yet hopeful. He quickly makes his way over to Ryan and sits down next to the boy.
"I'm sorry, Sandy," Ryan whispers. "I'm so sorry..."
"It's alright," Sandy says while gently placing his hand on Ryan's forearm. "We're here to help you. We know something happened and you were forced to change your testimony..."
"I lied in court..."
"Yes, you did," the sheriff interjects. "But if you were coerced, if you were threatened in any way, that's witness tampering. You will not face perjury charges if you will just talk to us."
"Please, Ryan," Sandy says softly. "Tell us what happened in the parking lot yesterday."
Ryan looks up at his lawyer, then to Sheriff Hicks and finally... to Sandy. He sighs deeply then makes the effort to recount the events from just twenty-four hours ago.
"I was standing next to Luke's truck," Ryan says quietly, almost in a whisper. All three men lean in towards the boy to make sure they hear every word. "The van pulled up... it happened so fast."
Sandy keeps his hand upon Ryan's forearm, then places his other hand gently upon the boy's back. "It's alright, no one can hurt you. Take a deep breath and tell us what happened."
"They g...g...grabbed me," Ryan says, his voice wavering as he recalls the horrific minutes when he thought he was going to die. Those few minutes seemed to last for hours.
"Did you get a good look at them?" the sheriff asks. "Could you identify the men if you saw them in a line up?"
"No... I didn't see them," Ryan replies. "They p... put a hood over my head. I'm sorry. I didn't see them..."
"It's alright, Ryan," Sandy says, reassuring the boy. "Can you tell us what happened next?"
Ryan closes his eyes. He shakes his head against the horrific memory. All he wants is for it to go away. Then he feels the hand gently caressing his forearm. He takes in a deep breath and concentrates on the other hand placed upon his back, offering him comfort and support.
Sandy is here. He didn't leave me...
"You didn't leave me," Ryan whispers.
"I will never leave you," Sandy whispers back. "I am here for you, no matter what."
Ryan looks at Sandy. He knows the man is telling the truth. After all he's put the Cohen's through, if Sandy didn't care he wouldn't be helping the sheriff. He'd be home right now with Kirsten and Seth...
Kirsten and Seth...
"He had a g...g...gun," Ryan stutters. "P... p... pressed up against m... my head."
Sandy blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes. He wishes he could take all of Ryan's pain away. To think the boy was kidnapped and assaulted and was too afraid to tell anyone.
"Ryan, you're safe now," Sheriff Hicks states. "No one can hurt you..."
"No, not me," Ryan says. "They didn't say they would h... h... hurt me..."
Sandy looks at the sheriff. Ray returns the look, both men realizing what must have happened. Ryan isn't protecting himself, he's protecting someone else.
"Ryan, you asked me earlier to 'keep them safe'," Ray states, taking care to keep his voice soft and steady. "Who were you talking about? Who do I need to keep safe?"
Ryan glances up at the sheriff, then to Sandy. He lowers his head and quietly replies, "Kirsten and Seth... and my brother..."
"The men threatened to hurt them if you didn't change your testimony?" Ray asks, wanting to clarify.
"Yes."
"Ryan, why didn't you tell me? You should have told me," Sandy says, willing the boy to make eye contact.
"I know but... I just couldn't," Ryan says softly as he raises his head and looks at Sandy. "If I did what they said then no one was going to get hurt."
"But what about you?" Sandy asks. "You've been hurt. Ryan. They held a gun on you."
"I'm fine..."
"No you are not. You are not fine. You were kidnapped, threatened and assaulted," Sandy states as the tears well up in his eyes. "You've been traumatized. Going to prison is not going to keep anyone safe, especially you."
Ray Hicks watches the exchange, intrigued by what he's hearing. He's used to dealing with people more than willing to throw their grandmother under a bus if it meant saving their own hide. But not this kid. He just keeps trying to save everyone at his own expense, as if he doesn't even matter.
"Ryan, do you trust me?" Sandy asks.
Ryan looks directly at Sandy and replies, "Yes."
"Do you trust Sheriff Hicks?" Sandy doesn't bother including George O'Reilly. It takes more than a half-hour legal session to earn this kid's trust.
Ryan glances over at the sheriff and again replies, "Yes."
"Then let us help you."
Ryan nods his head. He feels the weight of the world has just been lifted off him. The anxiety that was ripping through him just a few hours ago is now subsiding. He can breathe again.
"I'll station some plainclothes officers at your house. Your wife and son will not be able to leave nor will they be able to receive guests," Ray tells Sandy. "It's just temporary... just until we can get to the bottom of this and nail Stankey."
"What about my brother?" Ryan asks.
"I'll have your brother removed from the general prison population..."
"You mean solitary?" Ryan asks anxiously, becoming worried.
"Your brother will be moved to a private cell. It won't be solitary confinement but he will have to have his meals in his cell," Ray explains. "I'm sorry, Ryan. It's the only way to keep Trey safe. I'll make sure he knows it's not punishment. It's just temporary."
"Trey has been working towards getting his GED," Ryan states quietly, lowering his head again. "I guess he'll have plenty of time to study now."
Sandy gently caresses Ryan's back while he offers the boy an encouraging smile. "Everything's going to be alright. I promise..."
"There is one more thing..."
All three men look at Ryan, their interest piqued.
"There are pictures... I think someone put them in my book bag when I was taking a shower in the locker room yesterday."
"The man we saw entering the school with the hoodie," Sandy says to the sheriff. "It was probably him."
"I was thinking the exact same thing," Ray says. "Ryan, did you look at the pictures?"
Ryan looks at the three men sitting at the table and replies, "Yes, they were pictures of Kirsten and Seth and..." Ryan lets out a heavy sigh then continues, "A knife. Someone holding a knife."
"Do you still have these pictures?" Ray inquires. He hopes the boy didn't discard or destroy them. This could be the evidence they've been looking for.
"I put them in my dresser drawer," Ryan says. "They're in a manilla envelope, beneath my pants."
"Alright, I need to get my hands on those pictures," Ray states, standing up from the table. "Ryan, thank you. You've been very helpful. I know this hasn't been easy for you but I promise you I will do everything in my power to see justice done. For you as well as for Tyler."
Ryan nods his head to the sheriff, appreciating everything the man is doing for him.
"George, I believe you have a little work to do before this day is over. Let's see, what to do first," Sandy ponders to his colleague as he rests his chin upon his fist and places his index finger across his lips. "Oh, I know. You can file a motion to get Ryan's confession thrown out. Change his plea to 'not guilty' and arrange for bail. Do you think you can handle all that?" Sandy doesn't try to hide his sarcasm. He's done with being polite. "I'll post bail. It probably won't be excessively high. After all, Ryan is hardly a threat to society. Just let me know when the hearing is scheduled."
"I can't promise anything, Sandy," George states, a little miffed at his colleague giving him orders. "It's already three in the afternoon..."
"I don't care if you have to work all night and wake a judge up at two in the morning," Sandy states, glaring at the lawyer. "I want Ryan home with me by dinnertime tomorrow. No excuses."
Sandy turns his attention back to Ryan and places his hand upon the boy's shoulder. "I want you to hang in there. Can you do that for me?"
Ryan nods his head 'yes'. It's the least he can do for the man who refuses to give up on him.
"Alright, I need to go with Sheriff Hicks," Sandy says, giving one more gentle squeeze to the boy's shoulder before standing up.
"The deputy will bring you back to your cell," Ray tells Ryan. "And your lawyer can get busy filing those motions."
Ryan musters up as much of a smile as he can under the circumstances. He watches Sandy and the sheriff leave, then allows himself to be handcuffed and led back to his cell.
Ryan sits back down on the uncomfortable cot that is being passed for a "bed". He sighs as he lays down and wraps his arms around himself. Staring up at the drab ceiling, Ryan blinks away an errant tear.
Thank you, Sandy, Ryan thinks to himself. I don't know what I would do without you...