The conclusion of the apartment-warming party.

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Chapter Eighteen: An Edge

Diefenbaker, who had been lying on the living room carpet while we played poker, was now sitting beside Franny. I suspected he thought she was most likely to share her food. Fraser looked sternly at him as he put a stool at his place at the table.

"You behave yourself," I heard him say.

"Ehh..." came from Dief, sounding like a suspect saying "I don't know what you're talking about."

I got back to my salad while Ray grabbed a chunk of garlic bread and Fraser brought over the lasagna. While he was serving that, Ray's phone rang.

Ray sighed and wiped his fingers off on a cloth napkin (yeah, who uses cloth napkins anymore?). He answered the phone. "Yello. Lieutenant!" He lowered his voice to a mutter. "You couldn't have called ten minutes ago?"

I ducked my head to hide my smile. A call from Welsh would have been the perfect cover for taking a smoke.

Ray pushed his stool back and wandered into Fraser's living area. "Yeah. That's right... Okay... Yes, sir... I understand. Thank you, sir. I'll see you Monday." He ended the call and returned to the table.

"What did Welsh have to say?" I asked.

Ray glanced at Franny before answering me. "They found the middle man."

"What middle man?" asked Franny.

"The one who arranged the kidnapping for De Luca. Tanner named him. We need to try to get Andy Tate to corroborate his story. If we do that, we may be able to get Antonio Passero—that's the middle man—to give up De Luca."

"Where is Antonio... whoever?" I asked.

"They're sending him our way this weekend, just like De Luca. Since he's not as directly involved as the others, Welsh is going to let me talk to him. But he wants someone else in the room."

"That can be me if you want," I offered.

He looked at me thoughtfully. "I dunno... do you know how to play good cop?"

"Won't it be safer if you're the good cop?"

"He'll never buy that. Trust me; I know this guy."

"I guess I can do it, then. I'm versatile."

Ray took a bite of lasagna. "Oh, wow... this is really good, Benny."

"Thank you kindly, Ray," Fraser replied. "And thank you for the recipe, Francesca."

Franny chewed thoughtfully. "Something's different. You put in extra mushrooms, right?"

"I thought it was worth the risk."

"Mm, well it turned out great for your first try."

I agreed with the others. My cooking skills are... not so much skills as struggles. I can fry eggs and make toast... pancakes if I'm feeling really industrious. Simple stuff like that. But most of what I eat comes out of a single can or package. That or I go out to eat or bring back takeout. The only time I got real home cooking while impersonating Ray Vecchio was when I was at his house with his family, or when my mom foisted a casserole on me.

Crap, my mom. I hadn't talked to my parents since Fraser and I got back from Canada. In fact... they might not even know I was back.

We were well into our dinner when someone knocking at the door made me forget about my parents again. I thought it was queer because the only people likely to drop in on Fraser at his new place were already in the room.

Fraser got up and went to the door. "Oh, Miz Tate," he said. "Won't you come in?"

"Thank you... oh, I didn't know you had company," she said, seeing us.

"And now I have more," he said hospitably. I swear, if it had been the big, bad wolf, he'd have invited him in, too.

"Oh, thank you but... it can wait," she said.

I knew the look on her face. It was the look of someone putting on a brave face and planning to run somewhere safe to cry. I pushed back my chair and joined her and Fraser by the door. "What's wrong?" I asked.

She gave a little whimper and looked down. "Well... it's my son."

"You have a son?"

"Yes... Andrew. He's... he's in jail!" She covered her face with her hands.

"Um..."

"I'm very sorry, Miz Tate," Fraser said with his perfect bedside manner. "It must be extremely hard for you."

Franny appeared with a tissue, which the landlady gratefully accepted.

"I... I know you can't discuss it," she said looking at me. "The police aren't supposed to talk about 'ongoing investigations.' I watch Cops," she added.

"I see."

"But you... you're not on the case, right? But you know about things?"

If I couldn't see how upset she was, I'd have been tempted to make a smart comment at that point. Fraser knew about too many things for his own good. Then I thought about exactly what she'd said. "Wait, what case?"

"The attempted kidnapping," Fraser said. "Our wheel man, Andy Tate, is her son."

My eyes got big. "Whoa... I didn't realize." She didn't look old enough to be his mom.

Now Ray joined us. "Of course our suspect is your landlady's son!" he exclaimed. "Why not?"

I knew what he meant. In fact, I'm amazed it didn't occur to me right then that my life was a TV show. There were just too many coincidences.

"Why don't you come and sit down," Fraser told her, putting an arm around her.

"Yeah, take my chair," I said, going to turn it around for her.

"Thank you... you're such sweet things," she said, breaking into a new round of tears.

As she started telling us about her son—how he was really a good boy, but he'd made some bad choices, blah blah blah—I saw Ray sneak back to his place at the table to keep eating while she talked. I couldn't blame him. I probably would have done the same thing if she hadn't been sitting in my chair.

"Have you gone to see him?" Fraser asked.

"His lawyer said... said he didn't want to see me!" she sobbed.

Ray shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we can't make him see you if he doesn't want to. He's got rights... not many, but he's got 'em."

"But there must be something we can do," Fraser said, patting Ms. Tate's hand. "Perhaps I can try having a word with him."

I cringed. Fraser had a way of getting people's hopes up. Not that he didn't come through for them, but I kept waiting for the time when he wouldn't be able to do it. It would kill whoever he was trying to help. Might break him, too.

"Oh, would you?" she asked. "That would mean so much to me... just to know why he won't see me. And to tell him that whatever happens, we can work it out." She blew her nose.

"First, of course, he will have to agree to see me," Fraser told her. "But if he will, I'll do my best."

She took his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you so much!"

"Not at'all. Now, would you care to stay and have dinner with us?"

"Oh, no." She got up and shoved the used tissue into her pocket. "Thank you, but I've already eaten. I feel a little better now. You're an angel, officer Fraser."

"It's constable, ma'am. But you may call me Benton if you prefer."

She gave him a messy smile, like she might break down again. "All right," she sniffed. "Tell me as soon as you've heard anything."

"I will." He walked her to the door and saw her out.

"Well, that beats everything," Ray said once the door was closed. "I piss off a guy in Vegas, he has his man hire a couple of goons, and one of 'em is the son of your landlady." He shook his head. "This crap only happens around you, Fraser."

"Hey, maybe this gives us an edge," I said, turning my chair back around so I could finish my lasagna.

"Yeah," said Franny. "If we talk to him about his mom, he might give in. I almost wanna try interrogating him myself!"

Ray guffawed. "You? Interrogate a suspect?"

"Uh..." I had heard about Franny's attempts in the interview room, and I knew a bad idea when I heard one. "No, I don't think so, Franny."

"I said 'almost,'" she reminded me. "But I can watch, right?"

"I guess." I glanced at Ray.

He looked like he didn't like it, but then he seemed to soften up. "I guess if you really want to."

"Think we can talk to him tomorrow?"

"I think so, as long as Welsh okays it."

I nodded. I had been planning to help Fraser arrange his new living room furniture the next morning, not head into work on a Saturday. But I knew how important it was to get this out of the way before De Luca and his stooge got to Chicago. "Give me a call in the morning."

"All right."

We fell silent for a little while, until Franny said, "Well, that was fun. Fraze, I'll have some more of that garlic bread if you don't mind."

Fraser gave himself a little shake to refocus on the present and passed the bread to her with a small smile. "Francesca, I was wondering, and I'm sure Diefenbaker has been too... we haven't seen Ante around."

Ante, the poodle. I had forgotten all about her. Dief obviously hadn't. He put his head in Franny's lap and looked up at her with pitiful eyes.

"Oh, well, um..." Franny took a drink. "See, while you were away, Ante spent a little while pining, you know, for... someone."

Dief lifted his head.

"...And I wasn't sure what to do, and Welsh said he didn't want her at the station all the time. Of course, I mentioned you and Dief, and he just said something about Sergeant Prescott of the Yukon..."

"Uh, I believe you mean Sergeant Preston," Fraser corrected.

"Right. Anyway, I met this lady who can talk to dogs, and she said Ante missed being around other purebreds."

"Whoa, what do you mean, 'talk to dogs'?" I asked.

"You know—like Fraser talks to Dief. She helped me find this lady who breeds and shows poodles professionally." She raised her eyebrows like that was the coolest revelation ever. "Once Ante got in with her own kind, she started holding her head higher, prancing around... Michelle—that's the breeder—she said if she could track down Ante's pedigree, she'd make a great show dog. So, I sold her for a hundred bucks... just a formality, because she's priceless, of course, and she said I'm welcome to visit anytime."

Fraser smiled. "It sounds like a happy ending for all concerned."

Dief whined.

"Well... almost."

Franny fondled Dief's ears. "Sorry, sweetie, but it never would have worked between you two... that's showbiz, you know. She's gonna be a star."

Dief sighed and padded off to Fraser's bedroom.

Ray and Franny hung around until about ten and then said their goodbyes, congratulating Fraser on the new place on their way out. I knew the clean-up was gonna be a beast, so I stayed to help out, much as I disliked the idea.

Fraser covered the lasagna with foil and put it in the fridge while I gathered the dishes, scraping food scraps onto one plate for Dief. This part had always kind of grossed me out, but it was better feeding it to the wolf than dumping it into the trash.

"Here you go, buddy," I said, setting the plate in front of Dief.

He made a satisfied little sound like "Hm" and dug in, tail wagging.

I patted his side and went to move the dishes into the sink.

Fraser was sealing the few remaining chunks of garlic bread in a bag. "Thank you for your help," he said. "You don't have to stay."

I shrugged. "Least I can do, since I probably won't be here when your couch and chair get here tomorrow." I ran the water until it was hot and put the plug in the sink.

"Well, you can try them out when you get back."

"You not working tomorrow?"

"Not unless Tate decides to talk to me, or the inspector decides he can't order a pizza for himself."

I laughed. "How you liking the new inspector?"

"He seems to be a fair man."

"Kinda wish you could have stuck with the devil you know?"

He tilted his head from side to side, and I knew he didn't like me talking about Inspector Thatcher that way, but he also knew it was just an expression. "It might have been easier in some ways if she had stayed. But her heart was in Toronto."

What about yours? I wondered. The apartment, the furniture... it seemed to indicate that he planned to stay a while, but how long, I didn't know. "Oh, by the way, what was it Lam wanted to talk to you about? You know, 'at your convenience?'"

"That, I'll probably learn after the furniture arrives. It wasn't convenient for me to see him today, since I had to prepare for tonight."

"Oh. Hope you're not in trouble."

He shook his head. "I'm sure it wasn't urgent, or he never would have said to come at my convenience in the first place."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Let me know."

"I will."

Once he had put the salad away, he grabbed a clean towel and dried the clean dishes as I handed them to him.

"Where'd you find the dishes?" I asked, noticing that the forks did not seem to come from one set.

"The second-hand store."

I smiled. "Getting to like it, huh?"

"It is a good resource."

"Don't they have them in Canada?"

"Of course. I just didn't stay in one place long enough to become very familiar with them."

"Mm." It's weird, but I was finding dish-washing to be less of a chore than usual. Something about helping someone else with their dishes, along with having someone else to do the drying and putting away, made it seem almost fun. We finished in about fifteen minutes.

Fraser handed me another towel to dry my hands on; I noticed that the towels were Christmas-patterned... undoubtedly also from the second-hand store. "Thank you kindly, Ray," he said.

"No problem, buddy. Just, uh... don't get used to it." I didn't know if the almost-fun thing was normal, or if the novelty would wear off and it would get to be a pain.

"Understood."

Thanks for reading. Comments or questions are welcome. If you have a question, please make sure you're signed in so we can send you a pm. Otherwise we'll have to answer you in the chapter notes (like this right here) or by posting our own comment on the chapter, which is weird. ~Ray K.