I do not own Rookie blue or any of the characters…
Here is an update at last! I am trying really hard to update more regularly but life and some writer's block didn't help. Originally this chapter was longer but I split it in two so I could at least post this. The good news is that quite a bit of the next chapter is complete. Although it also means there is more Gail than Holly in this chapter.
Hope you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who reads, favs, follows and of course reviews.
….
Gail spent the better part of the morning being interrogated by Madeline Kramer. There was nothing friendly or routine about this chat. The Detective Sergeant said 'convenient' when she learnt Gail was with Holly and Frankie when Francine Hart was killed.
Kramer had barely waited an hour before firing off a text to Gail demanding she front up at Internal Affairs first thing in the morning. 'The body's not even cold yet,' Gail had groaned. Holly and Frankie looked at her quizzically. 'I have a feeling Francine's death is not going to be the end of this.' She had held up her phone to show the message. Frankie had shot her a worried look.
Gail had wanted nothing more than for Francine to be out of their lives but not like this. Admittedly it was hard to muster a huge amount of sympathy for the woman, which left Gail feeling a little conflicted. Without meaning to, she had wondered aloud if it made her a bad person. 'Jesus,' Frankie had snorted, 'don't beat yourself up. That psycho tried to kill you.'
'Maybe Kramer is just tying up loose ends,' Holly suggested.
'Yeah right, like my arrest for murder.'
Now it was Holly who looked worried.
'Watertight alibis,' Frankie said, pointing between the three of them.
'Yep,' Gail had nodded. Her very first thought was how opportune, which, as it transpired, was exactly Kramer's response. Did Elaine have another reason for making sure the three of them were together other than keeping them safe? It was too terrible a thing to contemplate. 'At least Kramer didn't use angry caps,' Gail said with an attempt at levity because she really didn't want Holly and Frankie to guess what she was thinking.
Holly tilted her head to one side, her expression that half smile half frown which meant she could see right through Gail's subterfuge. There was nothing to be gained by sugar coating this, Gail realised, feeling stupid for trying to do just that. 'You better be prepared for Kramer to call you in again,' she said to Holly gently.
Neither Gail nor Holly had slept well. Holly had started off by holding Gail but both of them were so restless that soon proved to be impractical. At 2 am Gail woke from a nightmare in which she was chasing Elaine down a busy street, shouting 'stop, police,' but her mother ignored her. As Gail unholstered her gun, Elaine turned and looked her straight in the eye, holding her gaze for a moment before she stepped off the curb and into an oncoming bus. Gail woke with a scream. She was covered in a film of sweat and had become entangled in the top sheet, which always the cover hog she had tugged across to her side of the bed. Holly gently placed her hand on Gail's waist, knowing from experience not to crowd her in the immediate aftermath of a nightmare.
'Perick?' Holly asked gently, placing a soft kiss to Gail's temple.
'For once, no,' Gail said, grateful that Holly didn't press her further.
At 3 am with sleep still elusive, Holly suggested they have sex. 'It could relax us,' she said. Gail wasn't convinced. For the first time ever, it had felt like they were going through the motions. Try as she might, Gail's head was not in the game. To begin with Holly's attentions did little to distract her and release seemed as out of reach as sleep. Eventually Holly's hand tired and she moved down to take Gail's clit in her mouth. She was approaching the task with a single mindedness that Gail decided was bordering on the heroic.
Gail was about to tell Holly to stop when she felt that familiar tension low in her stomach. She had been roughly twisting her nipples between her fingers, but now as her muscles tightened she left off from that and went completely still, concentrating hard on the sensations that were building. When she did come it was as much from sheer determination than anything else. The orgasm was short but sharp, the intensity of it after the faltering build up something of a surprise. Holly moved back up the bed and kissed her.
'Too much going on in that head,' Holly said, stroking Gail's cheek.
'Sorry,' she whispered.
'Nothing to be sorry about,' Holly smiled crookedly. Her tone was so full of affection and warmth that Gail couldn't help but kiss her.
It still astonished Gail that she was the recipient of this love. On occasion she still mentally pinched herself because she couldn't believe her dumb luck. 'Luck', she imagined Becca Stewart and Leslie saying in unison and with a questioning tone, 'didn't you and Holly make this happen'.
When Holly was in San Francisco, Gail wouldn't let herself imagine, even for an instant, that she would ever get another chance with her because their parting had seemed so final. Even thinking about Holly made her grieve anew what she had so recklessly discarded. The most wonderful person she had ever met. Gail felt like she had known that from the very beginning, even in the woods when Holly met her snark with that half smile and a composure which in truth had disconcerted Gail, so accustomed was she to unsettling newcomers—and even longstanding acquaintances––with her attitude. It was a sure guarantee no one got too close and until Holly, Gail had liked it that way, or so she thought.
Gail was wide-awake now and felt like she owed Holly, and not just for her perseverance in making sure she came. As she thought about all the reasons why she was indebted to Holly, Gail's chest was infused with a warm rush of love, that big, sudden, almost incomprehensible feeling that also made complete sense. Gail resolved then to revere every inch of Holly's body. She would be slow and deliberate, draw it out, so Holly would know exactly what she meant to Gail.
Holly, however, had other ideas. Without any preamble she sat up and straddled Gail. It was a magnificent sight. Holly's long hair fell over one shoulder in waves and her breasts, which Gail had cupped in her hands, were firm and so perfectly round. Then there was the flat of Holly's stomach with just the hint of swell around her belly button and the stud piercing. The latter had been a delightful discovery for Gail the first time she saw Holly naked. It was too strong a word to say she was obsessed with the stud but damn did Gail like it.
To Gail, Holly was a perfect combination of athletic and curvy. Incredible to think she had spent the first 28 years of her life believing that looking for the beauty in women was a perfectly normal thing for a heterosexual woman to do. Not that she couldn't appreciate a good male body but even when she had slept with men that appreciation had always been somewhat detached, more a disinterested appraisal, whereas with woman and Holly in particular, Gail's response was instinctive and urgent. It didn't take much for her to be overtaken by the urge to touch and caress Holly, to press herself up against her, to trace the dips and plains of her body, the smooth tan skin and the little marks that spoke of a life lived, and the doing of all those things was so unutterably glorious.
She was so very, very gay, Gail smiled to herself. Andy still had trouble understanding that. Once Gail started dating women, Andy had assumed she was bisexual—'but you liked sleeping with men' she said with a puzzled frown when Gail put her straight so to speak. Gail had screwed up her face because what would Andy know, it wasn't like she was there. Unless of course she and Nick had discussed it and that was way too gross a thing to contemplate. Not that sex with men had been bad, it was just that sex with women, and again Holly in particular, was so, so much better. No comparison really. And it wasn't just the sex or the physical attraction. No, more than anything, once Gail admitted she was gay, she found herself clicking with women in a way she had never done with men. She couldn't quantify it, except to think it was about a different sensibility.
Astride her, Holly regarded Gail with a look that could only be described as smouldering and started to move against her, and Gail quickly dismissed thoughts of Andy or anyone else for that matter. Despite Gail's plans, there was nothing measured about what happened next. Holly came riding Gail's fingers, the rhythm she set frenetic, and just before she climaxed she brought her hand to her clit and started rubbing in hard, tight circles. The only sounds in the room were Holly's moans and the slap of skin against skin as she rose and fell on Gail's fingers. There was something wanton and nearly raw about it and Gail found it mesmerising.
After that Gail fell into a fitful sleep. Holly was snuggled up against her back, an arm draped around her waist, and the last thing Gail heard before she succumbed to weariness was 'I love you.'
The alarm had woken them too soon. Gail groaned and dragged herself out of bed. Looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror she saw she was bleary-eyed and paler than usual. Her head was cloudy too from lack of sleep and she knew this was not a good state in which to face Madeline Kramer.
Still, when Holly slipped into the shower behind her, Gail turned and kissed her hard before backing her against the cool, tiled wall. She wasn't sure why she needed this—perhaps she was now using sex as a diversion—but Holly seemed to understand. She hitched a leg around Gail's waist, and Gail teased her clit until she could feel that Holly was wet and then thrust two fingers inside her, over and over, until Holly was gasping for her to stop.
'Mmm,' Holly said, still leaning against the tiles and looking like she didn't quite trust herself to move, 'that was,' she trailed off.
'Okay?' Gail asked, suddenly uncertain and a little abashed by her forcefulness.
'More than okay,' Holly leant forward and kissed her.
Forty minutes and three cups of coffee later, Gail was seated across form Kramer and Matt Kennedy at internal Affairs. This time it was a regular interview room with a one-way glass on one side and a table with a place to attach cuffs. Kramer had on her usual jaundiced expression and Gail speculated if it was habitual or just reserved for her.
'The building manager saw us come into the apartment if you want to check,' Gail was explaining to Kramer, and then kicked herself for volunteering the information because it made her seem desperate to establish an alibi.
'Oh I intend to,' Kramer said. 'And your mother. She didn't happen to be with you?'
'Superintendent Peck—you mean, you're ah,' Gail paused, 'boss. What's she got to do with this.'
'You would be aware she is not supervising this case. Conflict of interest,' Kramer sniffed.
'If you say so,' Gail replied. She swore Matt suppressed a smirk.
'So, her whereabouts at 8 pm last night,' Kramer said, clearly not amused. She was like a dog with a bone but obstinately so and this, Gail realised, was why Kramer's interview technique lacked finesse. It didn't make her any less dangerous though. Once on a course of action, people like that found it hard to give up.
'It may come as a surprise to you Detective Sergeant but I'm not my mother's keeper,' Gail smiled her fake smile. Her voice was overly saccharine and she had no doubt Kramer realised there was not a sincere bone in her body right now. It had to be irritating the hell out of the woman.
'So you don't know where she was?'
'Well, you would know better than me. The Superintendent's office is just down the hall. She puts in long hours, as I'm sure you are aware, so my guess is she was at work. Have you checked with her assistant?'
'Guess?' Kramer raised her eyebrows sceptically, ignoring Gail's suggestion.
'My mother called me from work at around 6 pm. She didn't sound like she was going anywhere.'
'And how might you sound,' Kramer paused, 'if you were going somewhere?'
'I don't know. Hurried. Believe me if my mother needs to be someplace she lets you know. She's a stickler for being on time.'
'What did you two discuss on the phone?'
'Dr Hart's release,' Gail said, watching with satisfaction as Kramer did a very bad job of disguising her surprise at the admission. In fact, she appeared to have lost her train of thought, opening her mouth to speak and then shutting it just as quickly. Finally Kramer nudged Matt in the ribs and motioned for him to continue like this was always the plan and he was being slow on the uptake.
'Um,' Matt said sitting up straight and coughing awkwardly. 'What exactly was said?'
'It was a short conversation. The Superintendent told me Dr Hart had been released. She was concerned for Holly's and my safety and suggested we go home immediately and that Detective Anderson stay with us. That was it.'
'And how was she privy to this information?' Kramer asked, seeming to have regained her composure.
'She didn't say. If you're so interested in finding out about my mother maybe you should talk to her.'
'Oh I will.'
'Anyway, Dr Hart's release was hardly top secret.'
'And your mother didn't waste anytime telling you about it.'
'Are you surprised my mother wanted to warn us? Francine Hart attacked Holly, sent someone to burn down our house and then tried to kill me.'
'Allegedly,' Kramer said. She was revoltingly smug. Why did Kramer hate the Pecks so much, Gail wondered. How did you get to a point where your sole goal was to put away a legacy family, regardless of whether the facts supported your case? Was Kramer's such a miserable existence that persecuting any Pecks who remained on the force had become the thing that gave her life meaning?
'Are we done here?' Gail asked, doing her best to sound bored.
'Feeling the heat are you, Peck?' If possible Kramer sounded even smugger.
'Nope. I have a real case I should be working on, not a fabricated one.'
Kramer gave what may have passed as a smile. Her lips were drawn together thinly and her contempt for Gail clear. 'If you or your mother had anything to do with Francine Hart's death, I'll find out.'
'Yeah, well good luck with that. You'll be looking for a long time because there is nothing to find.' Gail stood abruptly. It was part bravado. She couldn't bring herself to believe her mother could murder Francine but there was a niggling doubt she just couldn't shake.
Kramer's look of consternation was priceless. Clearly she couldn't believe Gail had the audacity to terminate the interview. Yeah but I just did, Gail thought. She smiled at Kramer with faux sweetness, a feat in itself as the woman was quite repulsive, and said, 'Last time I looked Swarek was leading the investigation into Dr Hart's death not Internal Affairs.' With that Gail gave Matt a curt nod and turned to leave.
As she reached the door, Gail heard Kramer launch into a tirade. Gail made out a string of expletives and then something about the Pecks needing to be brought into line, and then she shut the door, not with a bang but firmly enough to let Kramer know she wasn't cowered. It was immature but Gail had a small sense satisfaction that she'd so easily got under Kramer's skin, particularly when Kramer had set out to unnerve her.
Then Gail groaned inwardly. Fuck. Kramer hadn't spoken to Holly yet. She was probably next on Kramer's list. If the Detective Sergeant wasn't already on the warpath, she definitely was now and Holly was about to feel the full force of her wrath. Gail pulled out her phone and hit Holly's number but it went straight to messages. She called Holly's assistant, Sally, but she said Holly was in the lab with Dr Chatterjay.
'I can give her a message,' Sally offered.
'Could you tell her, nah it doesn't matter,' Gail said. 'I'll catch her later.'
'Are you sure I can't give her a message?' Sally said again and Gail almost gave into her kindly tone. But what message would she leave? Tell Holly to be on guard around Kramer. It was the thing that needed to be said but the words could easily be misconstrued. Gail knew how investigations worked. If she and Holly were suspected of being involved in Francine's death, Swarek would be sure to interview everyone they worked with, including Sally. That's if Kramer didn't get to her first. At least Gail had warned Holly last night that Kramer was likely to question her again.
Gail desperately wished she could talk to Holly right now. Just hearing her voice would be enough to shake the gloom that was settling upon her. She tried Holly's cell again but it just went to voice mail and Gail knew better than to leave a message Kramer might stumble across.
…..
When Gail arrived at 15 Frankie was in with Oliver. He motioned for her to come into his office, a grin on his face, and she wondered what had put him in such a cheerful mood. Frankie hastily shoved something in her jacket pocket.
'Good. You're back,' she said 'we've been summonsed to the morgue.'
'Have they got something new?' Gail asked, relieved she would now have the opportunity to warn Holly about Kramer in person.
'Not sure,' Frankie shrugged, 'all I got was a message to head over there. Hey, how'd it go with Kramer.'
'Oh, you know,' Gail made a face. 'I just need to talk to Dov. Can you hang on a minute?
'Sure,' Frankie said. She pulled her hand out of her pocket and as she did the ring case she had shown Gail yesterday tumbled out and landed at Gail's feet. Gail regarded it warily, like it might bite. Frankie scooped the case up hastily. 'Um, I was just showing Oliver,' she said, disconcerted at being caught out.
'Oh I'm pretty sure you're spoken for too, aren't you Oliver,' Gail said. 'But keep asking around, Frankie. You're sure to find someone willing to marry you.'
'Hilarious,' Frankie said, with something like her usual snarl. 'I'll meet you in the car.'
'Don't discourage Frankie,' Oliver laughed good-naturedly once Frankie had gone. 'She's finally showing she's human.'
Gail snorted. 'Not sure that's possible.'
'Frankie's come a long way since she showed up at 15. Yes, it was a slow process but we've brought her along into the fold. And the fact she cares enough about someone to ask them to marry her, well that is a day I never believed I would see. You have to admit it is kind of sweet.''
'Oh god is it catching?' Gail said with apparent seriousness.
'Catching?'
'This disease of sentimentality,' Gail threw up her hands in mock exasperation. 'Oliver, old age is making you soft. You are worse than Chloe.'
'Old,' Oliver started to protest.
'I need to go,' Gail said, 'I can't keep the Queen of Love waiting.'
'Gail wait,' Oliver said, standing up from his desk. 'I'm guessing it didn't go well with Kramer.'
Gail bit her lip.
'That woman is like a rabid dog,' Oliver shook his head ruefully. 'You and Holly are in the clear. Sammy knows that. I spoke to him this morning. Given Francine Hart's mental state, he's convinced it was an accident. Kramer's just making trouble.'
Could she confide in Oliver? Tell him who she feared was responsible for Francine's death. She knew Oliver wouldn't believe her. Instead he'd be solicitous and full of reassurances and Gail wasn't sure she could handle that right now. If she was going to confront her mother, she needed proof. Then she would ask Oliver for help.
Still, would Elaine get away with Francine's death because Swarek, who was not known for being particularly methodical, was too lazy to conduct a comprehensive investigation? Had Elaine actually counted on that? Francine was murdered in 27's patch. It was hardly a stretch to bet on Swarek picking up the case. Or was Gail seeing chimeras where they were none?
'Gotta go,' Gail said, pushing off from the doorjamb, the movement awkward rather than fluid so she was certain Ollie would guess she wasn't being entirely candid.
'We will talk later. Yes,' Oliver gave her that understanding look that normally broke through Gail's defences and had her spilling everything. Not now though.
'Yeah,' Gail said, more to appease Oliver than from any real intention to discuss this further.
….
'Can you get the CCTV,' Gail asked.
'Nope,' Dov shook his head. 'Francine was in a blind spot. There are cameras all around the intersection but further up where she stepped off the curb, nothing.'
'Shit.' Gail bit her lip. Until then, she hadn't realised how much hope she'd pinned on finding the footage. 'There are thirty police cameras downtown and not one of them caught Francine being mown down by a bus.'
'Wow, that's morbid even for you.'
Gail said nothing and Dov raised an eyebrow in surprise. She could guess why. Normally she wouldn't let him get away with a comment like that.
It won't be a pretty sight,' he continued when Gail still didn't speak. 'I heard they had to practically scrap her off the road. Holly's lucky she's not doing the autopsy. Unless of course that was on her bucket list.' He stopped and winced.
Somehow Dov had this knack of putting his foot in it, Gail thought. When Holly rambled it was adorable but with Dov it always ended with him saying something insensitive or plain stupid. Dov flushed and looked so remorseful Gail was almost sorry for him, but his contrition was short-lived.
'Why do you want the footage exactly?' he asked.
'I get my kicks out of seeing road kill.' Gail deadpanned.
'Very funny.'
'Hey, you're the one calling me morbid.'
'I know' Dov snapped his fingers. 'You want to make sure your nemesis is not coming back from the dead.'
'One, Francine was not my nemesis,' Gail started to say and then stopped when Dov looked at her skeptically. She glared at him before continuing. 'And two, that is—well it's not the reason,' she finished lamely.
Probably she owed Dov an explanation but could she trust him? At the best of times, trusting others wasn't something she found easy—kind of hard when her parents never gave her any reason to. It was a pattern established in Gail's childhood, or so her therapist would have her believe. Dov was looking at her oddly and Gail realised she was biting her lip so hard she had drawn blood.
'You didn't kill Dr Hart did you? Is that what you're trying to tell me?' If Dov was trying to be funny it was lost on Gail.
'Yeah sure Dov,' she rolled her eyes, 'and I'm asking you to find the proof so you can arrest me and charge me with murder.'
'Gail, that wasn't,' Dov began and then stopped. He made a face. 'That didn't come out right.'
'Whatever. I've got work to do,' Gail stood abruptly. 'Frankie's waiting for me.'
'Hey Gail, wait. What is this really about?'
'You know what Dov, it doesn't matter.' Gail flapped her hand dismissively. Clearly he wasn't going to help her. She didn't get Dov. Sometimes he was like an over eager Boy Scout who had swallowed that be prepared shit whole and was so anxious to do his 'DUTY' he meddled where he wasn't needed. Other times when Gail asked him a favour, like now, he acted as if she was crossing a line. He probably thought she was taking liberties because she was a Peck. Probably had been waiting for that to happen. If all those other Pecks were bad apples, why was she any different? Gail wished Chloe were here to tell Dov to get over himself. If Gail was feeling less fragile she do it herself or punch him in the arm and demand he stop being a dick.
'Why are you so worried, Gail? You and Holly have alibis,' Dov said.
'Yeah. It's just,' she hesitated.
'Is Kramer insinuating you and Holly had something to do with Dr Hart's death?' There was something that sounded very much like outrage in Dov's voice. Gail gave a small nod. Maybe he wasn't judging her after all.
'And you want to prove to Kramer that neither of you were there?' Dov asked.
'Um,' Gail rubbed her face with her hand. 'Can you take a look at the footage from the other cameras in that area. See if Francine was being followed?' she asked, not answering Dov's question,
'Who am I looking for? Gemma Lister? I guess she had a good motive. Francine destroyed her career.'
Gail pursed her lips so they formed a thin line. 'Elaine,' she said so quietly it was clear Dov wasn't sure he heard correctly.
'Elaine—your mother? What has she got to do with this?'
'When Francine Hart was released, Elaine told me to get Holly and go home and make sure Frankie stayed with us.'
'She was being protective,' Dov said, although it sounded more like a question than a statement of fact.
'Or making sure we had an alibi.'
'What makes you think that?' Dov asked sharply.
'Yesterday when I told Elaine that Kramer had swallowed Francine's claim that Holly attacked her for no reason, Elaine said not to worry, she'd take care of it.'
'Meaning?'
'I didn't ask.'
'Gail,' Dov said reaching out to pat her arm and then thinking better of it. 'That doesn't mean the Superintendent killed Francine. She was probably going to talk to her superiors. See if Kramer could be reigned in.'
'Kramer beat her too it.' Gail scuffed the toe of her boot against the desk leg. 'Elaine was warned not to get involved in the case.'
Dov didn't reply straightaway. He seemed to be considering and then he gave a quick bob of his head. 'Okay, I can look at the footage. But Gail, if and it's a very big if, but if your mother is behind this do you really want that information? Swarek will examine the footage. Kramer probably will too. Maybe you should let it go. I mean it's bad enough that you, that you've—' Dov stopped abruptly and winced, clearly realising he was about to put his foot in it again.
The sentence was left hanging between them while Gail searched for a response. In the past she would have lashed out and Dov seemed to bracing himself for that. Back then, Dov was so resentful of her police birthright he couldn't help niggle and prod, heedless of the hurt he might cause her, never imagining how messed up Gail was by the exPecktations that came with that birthright. When she didn't immediately react, Dov visibly relaxed and regarded her with what Gail recognised as his concerned face. Two crease lines had appeared on either side of the bridge of his nose and his lips were quirked downwards in a sad sort of frown.
'What I actually meant was,' Dov started, wavering when he met Gail's impassive gaze.
'That I've already sent my brother to jail and ruined my father's career but hey why not go for the trifecta. Isn't that what the Pecks deserve. It's not like I'm winning daughter of the year.' Gail knew she was being a brat, that she was using sarcasm to mask how sick she felt at the thought Elaine, true to her word, had taken care of Francine Hart but in a very permanent way. Would she report her mother? Absolutely. It was her duty. It was how she had been raised.
'I didn't say that,' Dov said. 'I meant it was bad enough that you've had to deal with Steve and your father without this too.'
'Just look at the footage Dov. Tell me what you find,' Gail said wearily. She really didn't want to get into a conversation about her family right now, even if Dov was trying to be sympathetic.
'For the record, Gail, I think your mother is many things but a murderer is not one of them.'
Gail nodded without much conviction. She wished she could believe that. As she went down the corridor in search of Frankie she berated herself for the way she had handled the conversation with Dov. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was strung out, but it was more than that. What sort of person suspected her own mother of murder? Maybe she was a sociopath after all. Gail grimaced. She was already known as the person who had sold her family out. Elaine would be the icing on the cake, she thought sardonically.
Loyalty was something Gail prized, not that her parents had ever shown her much. Still Gail's complicity in first Steve's and then her father's downfall had felt like a betrayal. In one of their very first sessions, Leslie had asked in that measured way of hers, 'Were you complicit or simply doing the right thing?' Regardless, in those weeks and months after Steve was locked up, Gail was numb.
Outwardly she was going through the motions and doing a convincing job of appearing to be the Gail of old. She overheard one of the new rookies say to Chris that no wonder she was known as the Ice Queen because she sure didn't give a damn about anyone, even her own family. The derision in his voice was impossible to miss and so to the smug assumption that Chris would agree with him. Gail was secretly grateful when Chris had thumped the guy.
Still, what was going on, or more aptly not going on, internally was a different story. Hollow was the word she used to describe it to Leslie. She was still struggling with the fact that Steve and her father could do such things. Still woke in the middle of the night with that gnawing emptiness inside. Still wondered how it was that the oath to protect and serve had become meaningless to her father and brother. 'So you felt betrayed?' Leslie had asked and Gail had nodded slowly. 'And yet you think you betrayed them?' Leslie pushed and Gail had scrunched up her face irritably because she still couldn't make sense of it.
She was meant to be the fuck-up. Not Steve. And then she had disappointed her parents anyway because she couldn't get the words out on the stand, had stuttered and stalled until Steve had put a stop to it. She hated herself then because she had let him down and yet she had come so close to lying for him and letting herself down and neither thing—whether in the doing or not doing—made her feel good about herself.
The desolation that had started in the hallway outside the courtroom when her father had made her feel small and inconsequential quickly ballooned into a conviction of her worthlessness. It was this that had propelled her to the Penny that same night to carefully line up her drinks, knowing just how much it would take to make her insensible. The display was mostly for Lauralee's benefit, to ram home how unfit Gail was to be a mother, just in case the social worker still had any doubts on that score.
In the days and weeks and months that followed Steve's trial, the emptiness that settled upon Gail would not budge. Probably explained why she had slept with Frankie—the chance to feel something other than the numbness. Well, that and the fact she didn't want to catch a taxi home from Andy's wedding on her own.
Frankie had assumed it was a hook up and in the back of the cab had turned expectantly to Gail, before sliding across the seat and placing a hand high on Gail's thigh. Not wanting the detective to believe she was controlling whatever this was, Gail grabbed the back of Frankie's neck and pulled her into an aggressive kiss. It wasn't the best idea but it also wasn't the most self-destructive thing and it had allowed Gail a different kind of oblivion. They had come close to fucking on that back seat, a carelessness Gail would not normally permit herself but blamed on drunkenness and despondency, and when the taxi pulled up outside Gail's apartment, Frankie had had to extract her hand from inside Gail's pants.
Gail recalled a day when she very, very young, maybe no more than seven, and Elaine telling her that laws and an adherence to them guaranteed a civilised society. Now as an adult Gail knew that was not always the case—that some laws were unfair or disadvantaged groups of people or were just plain bad—but as a child she had had to look up civilised and adherence in the dictionary. When Steve and Bill were exposed, the fact that Elaine had not known about, much less condoned, their behaviour had ultimately allowed Gail to hold on to the lessons from her childhood, at least the ones that counted. Had she in fact missed the main point of that instruction– that the Pecks were a law unto themselves?
….
So you and Oliver had a good laugh at me.' Frankie said. She sounded unusually defensive.
'No,' Gail shook her head. 'I'm just worried you're rushing things, you know that.'
'Unlike you Peck, I know a good thing when I see it and I put a ring on it. I don't let it disappear to San Francisco for two years and then mope about it.'
Gail screwed up her face as if in pain. 'It?' she said in disbelief. 'Is Alannah comfortable with being referred to as "it". And hold-up, you haven't put a ring on"it" because Alannah has to agree and you haven't even proposed yet. Wait, have you?'
'I'm waiting for the right moment.'
'Uh huh. Like in a year when you're confident your relationship is going to stick.'
'It will,' Frankie said, her expression so obstinate that Gail had to restrain herself from laughing out loud.
'Frankie don't take this the wrong way but aren't you doing what your mother used to do?'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, you told me she'd have one drunken night with a guy and move him in the next day.'
'Peck, I've never moved anyone in. You know that. I cut and run before anything gets serious. Alannah's different. She's the first person I can actually imagine a future with.'
'Okay. Fair enough,' Gail said. If Frankie was so convinced who was she to stand in her way.
'Do you think she'll say yes?'
'Who Alannah?'
'No the Queen of England.'
'Pretty sure she's spoken for too.'
'Very funny. But what do you think?'
'I,' Gail shrugged. 'Honestly I don't know Alannah well enough. You're better off talking to Holly about this.'
'What does Holly think. You told her about the ring right?'
Gail shook her head. 'I didn't get a chance.'
'And there I was thinking you were the type of couple who told each other everything.'
'Yeah because it was not like there was anything else going on yesterday.' Gail rolled her eyes.
'Oh, yeah. Right,' Frankie looked momentarily abashed before returning to her current pet topic. 'I've got nothing to lose. If Alannah says no, then I can wait until she's ready but this will prove that I'm serious about her.'
'I guess,' Gail said,'but.' She stopped. How could she tell Frankie that there were so many other ways to show commitment than proposing, and that usually those things came before you asked someone to marry you.
Was Frankie's plan so impulsive Alannah would take it as proof that she didn't know how to do relationships? The last bit was true. Frankie had obviously wanted more with Gail but instead of telling her was either aloof or scornful, swinging between the two with dizzying and unpredictable speed. To anyone else it must have seemed as though she were rebuffing Gail, rather than the opposite. At least Frankie had got passed that with Alannah. Where Gail had been grateful for the excuse to shut things down with Frankie, Alannah had pushed the detective to be honest about her feelings. Maybe Alannah wouldn't be fazed in the least by Frankie skipping some fundamental relationship steps—well more like most of them—and proposing.
'But what?' Frankie prompted, sounding irritated.
'But nothing,'Gail said. 'If it feels right then you should do it.'
'Good,' Frankie gave a satisfied nod. She had the air of someone who had gently coaxed a petulant child to see reason. It made Gail realise Frankie put her lack of enthusiasm down to defiance rather than genuine concern. 'You and Holly will be next, you'll see' Frankie grinned happily, 'now help me plan this has to be really special.'
Gail's eyes bugged at that. Did Frankie think she was put out, or worse jealous, because she and Holly hadn't tied the knot yet?
'Well, any ideas,' Frankie prompted, too cheerful to be impatient when Gail didn't respond.
Fortunately they had arrived at the morgue saving Gail from having to answer. 'I think you've mistaken me for Price again,' Gail said as she hopped out of the car. Just before shutting the door, she leant back in and fixed Frankie with a scowl. 'And don't even think about asking me to be a bridesmaid or best man or whatever.'
Frankie chuckled then. Now that was peculiar because Frankie never chuckled. In all the time Gail had known Frankie, the closest she got to a chuckle was a snigger, but this wasn't that, rather it was full of genuine mirth. Was an alien inhabiting Frankie's body? Holly would tell Gail it was scientifically impossible, yet the woman currently sitting in the car with a goofy smile on her face was behaving nothing like Frankie Anderson. She looked like Frankie, she sounded like Frankie, she was wearing Frankie's clothes but the rivers of mush coming out of her mouth were anathema to Frankie.
If that wasn't proof enough, the real Frankie would know not ask Gail to plan a proposal. Really, the alien theory was looking more and more credible. Gail just hoped that Holly could help her make some sense of it, maybe even figure out where Frankie had gone and get her back. Of course first they needed to deal with the alien who had taken possession of her body, although come to think of it exorcism was probably more Celery's territory.
Holly wasn't able to help because she wasn't in the lab.
'Internal Affairs are interviewing her,' Dr Chatterjay said. He was trying hard not to appear concerned. 'I don't mean to pry but it's just routine, isn't it?'
Was that what Holly had told him, Gail wondered. Now she wished she had left a message with Sally.
'Hopefully,' Frankie said.
'You don't sound too certain, detective.'
'It's complicated,' Gail sighed. 'One of the IA detectives seems to have it in for the Pecks and she's lumped Holly in with us.'
'Madeline Kramer,' Dr Chatterjay said sharply, 'an obnoxious woman and a bully.'
'Wait, you know her?' Gail asked.
'She was here just before you arrived. Demanded Holly accompany her to the big building. I didn't like her tone.'
Gail went very still. She imagined her face must look stricken because Frankie and Dr Chatterjay were peering at her with concern.
'It doesn't mean anything, Gail,' Frankie said. Just like Dov had done earlier that morning, she reached out her hand as though she were about to pat Gail on the arm and, just like Dov, she thought better of it.
'Holly told me a little about the trouble Francine Hart caused you. Given Dr Hart's history, it sounds to me like Kramer is clutching at straws. Clearly there is no case against you or Holly.'
Gail bit her lip and looked down at her boots. She didn't know what to say to Dr Chatterjay. Of course there was no case against them but that didn't mean Kramer wouldn't make her and Holly's life hell, especially if she had decided that putting pressure on them was the best way to get to Elaine. What Kramer didn't realise was Elaine was all about self-preservation. If she were involved in Francine's death, she would have covered her tracks. That much Gail knew, even if she couldn't be certain her mother's innocence or otherwise.
'Did you know Kramer wanted to fly someone in from Vancouver to do the autopsy on Dr Hart?' Dr Chatterjay continued
'Really,' Frankie said. 'That normally only happens when there is a conflict of interest or at least a perceived one.'
'Kramer claimed it was to ensure everything was above board. I guess she realised Holly is well liked in this department. Dr Dunant would hear nothing of it. He decided to do the autopsy himself.'
'How do you know all this?'
'I was in talking to Dr Dunant early this morning when Kramer stormed into his office. Detective Swarek wasn't impressed with Kramer's antics either.'
'Swarek was there?' Gail asked.
'Yes. Hot on Kramer's heels. He basically told her to butt out. That last time he looked he was heading the investigation in Dr Hart's death.'
No wonder Kramer was in such a sour mood when she interviewed Gail. She must have literally
come straight from the morgue to the interview. At least Swarek had stood up for she and Holly. She was grateful for that, which was not something she was accustomed to feeling about Swarek,
'If there's anything I can do,' Dr Chatterjay offered. He was such a sweet man, Gail realised. There was a gentlemanliness about him that she found quaint and oddly appealing.
'Thanks,' Gail said quietly. His kindness made her a little shy and she resumed staring at her boots. Right now she wished she was in a bar somewhere, preferably one so low lit and murky you couldn't make out the faces of the other patrons unless they were seated right next to you at the bar. The sort of dive that had a bartender who kept lining up shots of tequila, no questions asked, until Gail would take the bottle and find a dark corner booth where she could finally drink herself into oblivion. It was not a healthy impulse—at least not for her liver. She should probably tell Leslie about it at their next session. Drinking heavily was one of the things that drove her to seek out the therapist's help in the first place.
There was a period after Holly left for San Francisco and post her first hook up with Frankie when it became a too regular thing to get blind drunk and wake in the morning with someone in her bed whose name she couldn't remember. They usually wanted her number because even wasted Gail was good at sex. Generally she managed to shove them out the door before they had a chance to ask.
One time, only a few hours after she had unceremoniously steered one of the no names out of the apartment she still shared with Dov and Chris, Gail had ticketed the woman for speeding. Frankie thought it hilarious. It was when Gail was still in uniform and, instead of being pissed, the woman was even keener to get Gail's number.
It had been a sunny day, one of those sultry summer afternoons when the heat rises off the bitumen in waves, and if Gail squinted hard enough the woman almost looked like Holly. But she wasn't Holly, and in any case squinting wasn't helping Gail's hangover. In that moment Gail realised how fucked up this all was and resolved to be better. At the end of the shift she googled therapists and Leslie's name came up. Before she could chicken out, Gail had called and made an appointment. So, drinking right now was definitely not a good idea.
Frankie, who was more perceptive than most people gave her credit for, must have sensed Gail's struggle with her internal demons because she turned to Dr Chatterjay and said, 'So Doc as much fun as it is to discuss how much of a psychotic bitch Kramer is—excuse the language—there has to be another reason we were called to the lab.'
'Oh yes indeed,' Dr Chatterjay said hurriedly, though he was still looking at Gail with a worried expression. 'It appears that before he died, Mitchell Corman's toes were severed.'
'That's O'Leary's trademark. Not Chou's,' Gail said, realising her whole theory about the tangled web that connected Cormann and Melanie and Chou may be just that. A theory. Nothing more. And who had worked for O'Leary? Who did Palmer say knew where the bodies were buried? Well, that would be Steve Peck.
…..
'There is something I haven't told you,' Gail said when she and Frankie were out on the street. Frankie squinted at her in the midday glare and Gail knew she wasn't going to be happy. Frankie had already given Chloe and her a lecture about withholding information that could help the investigation. 'It's about Steve,' Gail continued hurriedly before Frankie could say anything.
'Yeah,' Frankie drew out the word
'When Chloe and I spoke to Palmer, that retired detective from missing persons, he told me to stop nosing around because Steve knew where the bodies were buried.'
'You sure Palmer wasn't messing with you?' Frankie asked.
'That's what Chloe suggested. Then when I mentioned it to my mother she pretty much told me to back off. That Steve had been through enough.'
'And now you're thinking,' Frankie trailed off.
'I don't know what I'm thinking,' Gail ran a hand through her hair so it stuck up at odd angles.
'You're um,' Frankie pointed to Gail's head and took a step toward her.
Gail screwed up her face and did that lean thing where her feet remained planted on the ground but her neck turtled back. What was with Frankie? It almost looked like the detective was trying to hug her.
'Um your hair, you need to ah fix it,' Frankie said, uncharacteristically embarrassed.
'Oh right,' Gail said, doing her best to plaster the wayward bits of hair back in place.
'So you think Steve is somehow involved in this?' Frankie waved a hand about in the air.
'Mitch Cormann's toes were cut off. That's O'Leary's signature. Steve worked for O'Leary,' Gail shrugged, 'join the dots.'
'But O'Leary wasn't into trafficking. So if he's behind the murder of Mitchell and Melanie it kinda blows your theory out of the water.'
Gail nodded gravely.
'Your mother wouldn't cover for Steve, would she?' Frankie asked.
Gail bit her lip. 'I wish I could answer that.' She had been so certain Elaine wasn't corrupt but now she didn't know anymore. If it weren't for her fear that her mother was involved in Francine's death, Gail may have been able to dismiss Elaine's warning as motherly concern. 'My mother did say Palmer was rumoured to be on the take. He retired before an investigation could be carried out and the powers that be decided to drop it.'
'Someone senior protecting him,' Frankie asked.
'It's possible, but it could also be down to laziness or a lack of resources or even a reluctance to bring the force into more disrepute.'
'True,' Frankie said. They had reached the car and Frankie, who was by the driver's door, absentmindedly drummed her fingers on the roof. It was not a rhythmic but a jarring noise, almost excruciatingly so, and Gail had to fight the urge to ask Frankie to stop. Frankie appeared to be deep in thought, and from her own position by the passenger door, Gail waited her out. She knew from experience Frankie didn't like to be rushed. Finally Frankie stopped the drumming and looked across at Gail.
'We need to interview Palmer again and O'Leary too,' she said. Gail started to nod in agreement but Frankie hadn't finished. 'First we need to talk to Steve. Do you fancy a road trip.'
Gail grimaced. It had to be done and even though she hated the thought of questioning Steve herself, she felt compelled to be there, if nothing else to see how he responded. That, of course, wouldn't be happening. She couldn't investigate her own brother, especially with Kramer breathing down her neck.
'Frankie, I can't,' she said softly.
'I can take Chloe with me if you're uncomfortable.'
'It's not that. He's family. If I question him, it could compromise the investigation.'
'You don't seriously believe your brother is mixed up in this,' Frankie said. 'Look, I have a feeling if Steve is going to open up to anyone it's you. And don't worry, the visit will is strictly off the record. What do you say?'
Gail didn't bother answering Frankie but yanked the car door open, thinking that was answer enough. She hadn't yet gotten in to the vehicle, when she became aware of Natasha and Wilson hailing them from across the car park. Natasha was carrying a lunchbox—yeah, yeah a forensic kit, Gail said to herself—which was just like Holly's.
'Gail, um I mean detectives,' Natasha said as she and Wilson drew level with them. She seemed a little breathless. 'I'm glad we caught you.'
'Yeah,' Frankie said.
'Dr Stewart sent us back to the building site to get more soil samples and that strange guy from the building crew was hanging around again and asking a lot of nosy questions about the autopsy.'
'You mean Costa Ducas?' Gail asked.
Natasha and Wilson nodded.
'He was bragging about having a friend who used to be a detective. Costa said his name was Steve Peck. He wanted to know if Detective Peck was related to him,' Wilson added. 'That's your brother isn't it?'
'Yep,' Gail said. She couldn't think how she should respond. Gail felt as though she were falling down an endless pit, unable to scream or shout or do anything to stop or even slow herself from plummeting to the bottom. You couldn't beat gravity after all.
'Weird Costa didn't mention it to you,' Frankie said, seemingly not noticing how quiet Gail had gone.
'He said he was going to but then he realised Detective Peck and this Steve Peck look nothing alike. Costa reckoned this guy was a bit older than you too,' Wilson said, motioning toward Gail.
Gail pursed her lips. She wished she were anywhere but here. Right now that bar with the tequila shots lined up was mighty appealing. Maybe even falling down a pit had some advantages.
Frankie looked across at her. 'Ready for that road trip,' she said, trying to sound light but Gail didn't miss the gravity in her tone.
