4:00 p.m. – Downtown Pittsburgh Police Precinct
Justin shivered a little as he and Brian entered the police building, remembering the last occasion they had needed to be there. It was right after Prescott had been arrested for Justin's drugging and kidnapping, and he had been called upon to positively identify the man in a line-up. What a joke that was…it wasn't as if Brian and half of Pittsburgh couldn't have pointed him out by then. But they had needed him, as the victim, to verify that Lane had been the one to place his life in jeopardy.
Now it was ironic that they were back where it had all started. They still had no real idea what Carl wanted, but they knew it had to do with Lane again.
"Hey," Brian whispered, distracting Justin from his dark thoughts. "You okay?" he asked him, concerned. The other man's reaction to being back in the police station and having to deal once again with his perpetrator had not gone unnoticed by the brunet.
Justin took a steadying breath and smiled a little, more for Brian than himself. "Yeah," he answered softly. Brian stared back at him suspiciously; the brunet was obviously not buying it. "Well, maybe not totally," he admitted.
Brian reached over to take the other man's hand gently, nodding; he didn't care whether he received any nasty glares as a result or not. "Just breathe," he admonished him tenderly. "Remember the asshole is in jail – for a long, long, time. He can't hurt us anymore." He briefly squeezed Justin's hand before letting it go. "Let's go find Carl and get this with over with, okay?"
"Okay," the blond agreed. "Just…..don't go anywhere."
"I'm right here, Justin, and I have NO intention of going anywhere else……ever." Justin's eyes teared up slightly; he knew what Brian meant. They were not just in this together; from this point onward their lives were completely intertwined, which was just fine with him.
Justin DID give Brian a genuine smile now of love as well as gratitude for the countless ways this man had stood by him over the past 18 months. His husband's support had only served to deepen their love and commitment to each other. How far they had come since that day at the auction – it seemed like another lifetime ago. He never wanted to ever go back there, either. He only wanted to move forward – with Brian.
"Justin, Brian – welcome back," Carl greeted them as he stuck his head out the office door and noticed them standing nearby. "I see Jennifer gave you my message. Come on in," he instructed them as he held his office door open.
Somewhat skittishly, Justin followed Brian toward the door. As they both entered Carl's office, they were surprised to see they weren't the only ones in attendance.
"Greg," Brian acknowledged the prosecutor, who was seated in one of the empty chairs surrounding Carl's massive oak desk.
"Hey, Brian, Justin. You look great," he commented, noticing Brian's tan and Justin's sun-kissed look. He also observed that both of them seem much more well-rested than the last time he had encountered them, right after the trial had concluded. He only wished he had more pleasant business to conduct with them.
"Thanks," Brian responded a little hesitantly as he and Justin both shook hands with the attorney. Now that he knew both Carl and Greg were there, Brian had no doubt it had to do with Prescott, and he had a feeling it probably wasn't good, either. He glanced over at Justin, whose face had gone pale in apprehension. Apparently Justin had come to the same conclusion as well.
"Have a seat, gentlemen," Carl requested, as they both complied. "Debbie will be awfully glad to see her two favorite boys back in town…..after Michael and Ben, that is," he joked slightly, trying to ease the sudden tension that was now pervading the room.
Justin sighed nervously, rubbing his fingers together in his lap. "I appreciate your attempt at levity, Carl, but why don't we just cut to the chase here?" Brian remarked flatly. "Jennifer already told us this has to do with that fucker Prescott. Why don't you just tell us why we were called down here so soon after we got home? Something tells me you – and Greg – wouldn't do that for something minor."
Carl nodded and his face abruptly turned serious as he glanced at Greg. "Why don't you fill them in?" he asked the prosecutor. "It's pretty much going to be your baby, anyway."
Greg turned to the two of them before he began speaking in a calm voice. "Shortly after the two of you left, I got a visit from our buddy, Mr. Kingsley. I'm sure you both remember him?"
"Vividly," Brian retorted. "He was one of Prescott's robot yes, sir boys who I'm sure was taking the fall for Prescott and his involvement with the security detail being cancelled, among other things, no doubt."
"You're right," Greg informed them. "Kingsley not only admitted to it, he also told me that he was responsible for all the deliveries that were made to Justin at the loft and the diner. He also admitted to carrying out the wiretapping on your landline phone to obtain the cancellation code for the security detail. It was all done at the specific direction of Prescott."
"I knew it," Brian snapped. "I knew he was just a stoolie for that fucker."
Justin closed his eyes as the two men bantered back and forth about Prescott; at the moment, he wished somehow they could just forget all about him. "I don't understand, Greg," he joined in as the two other men glanced at him. "Kingsley's already been tried and convicted of the wiretapping. It's too late to charge Prescott now. Why are we rehashing this again? And why is Kingsley admitting that Lane orchestrated the whole thing now? What's the purpose? Why didn't he admit it before he was sentenced? It won't do him any good now, will it?"
Brian admitted Justin had a point. "He's right – why is this all coming up now?" He noticed Carl and Greg sharing a look of – what? Concern? Hesitation? Dread? He wasn't quite sure, but he found out he didn't have long to wait for the answer.
"That was before Prescott practically ordered Kingsley to come visit him at the prison a few weeks ago – just after the two of you left for your vacation," he advised them.
"In prison?" Justin asked. "Why?"
Again a certain pointed look passed between the policeman and the prosecutor. Greg inhaled a breath and released it quietly. "Because he had one last assignment for his old private detective – one that involved Lane's brother, also."
"Brother? That son of a bitch has a brother?" Brian was surprised; he had never heard that Prescott had any siblings at any time during the trial, not that it would necessarily have come up during anyone's testimony.
Justin searched his memory. "Yeah," he finally murmured. "I remember Lane telling me once that he did have a brother…….a twin brother, as a matter of fact. If I recall correctly, he told me his brother – whose name I've forgotten now – was involved in some minor capacity at the company he inherited from his father."
"You're right, Justin – his name is Aiden, and he's the spitting image of his brother," he verified, as Brian looked over at him, astounded. The idea of two of those assholes looking identical was almost too much to take. "And when Lane Prescott was sentenced to prison, the brothe took over as the new CEO."
"Well, if the other guy looks that much like him, I only hope he turned out to be an actual human being, as opposed to the scum his brother is," Brian commented.
"I wish we could tell you that's correct," Greg continued. "But I'm afraid they were cut out of the same cloth, after all."
Justin was quickly growing weary of this back and forth vacillating. "Greg, just TELL us what the fuck is going on," he growled. "I am so TIRED of hearing that man's name. I don't want to ever have to think about him again. He has disrupted our lives enough already."
Greg nodded. "I know, my friend, I know," he agreed. "And I hate like hell to tell the two of you this, but he wasn't finished when he went to prison. It seems that he needed Kingsley to meet him in the visitor's room at the prison because he had one more assignment for him to carry out – finding someone to take care of his attorney and Brian."
Justin's mouth gaped open as he stared back at Greg dumbfounded. "Take…….CARE OF?" Justin finally managed to stammer. "You….you aren't saying what I think you're saying……are you?" he whispered in horror. "You're not serious?"
Even the normally unflappable Brian Kinney was in shock, unable to digest what the prosecutor had just said. The man had to be kidding……only this was not something he thought the prosecutor would joke about. And by the look on both Carl and Greg's faces, he knew instinctively that the man was deadly serious.
"I wish I could tell you I'm not, but it's exactly what you think. The man wanted both Sinclair and Brian dead……..and was willing to pay quite handsomely for it, I might add. Especially for you, Brian," he added.
Brian snorted. "How much?" he couldn't help asking the prosecutor.
"A hundred thousand dollars," he advised the brunet, as he heard Justin gasp.
"Well, I'm flattered," Brian cracked. "I didn't know I was worth so much dead. Theodore, though, tells me I'm actually worth much more alive."
"Brian…..this isn't FUNNY, damn it!" Justin exploded in fear and revulsion. "He wanted you DEAD!" he cried, as he rose from his chair to start pacing around the room, a bundle of raw nerves which were coming perilously to a breaking point.
"Justin," Brian quietly called to him authoritatively in an attempt to calm his husband. "I know. But the man's in jail…..and Kingsley came to Greg with the information. So it's over – end of story – right?" he asked the two men as Justin peered over at them hopefully, waiting anxiously for an answer.
"Justin…..Sit down, please," Greg asked the younger man. "There's actually more…..but I think you'll find it enlightening when I get done," he reassured Justin as he noticed the blond starting to become even more agitated. "AND I think you'll also find that it's going to have a satisfactory ending – the ending we all wanted when this first began. Please," he beseeched the other man, holding out his hand in a silent invitation.
"Come on, Sunshine," Brian pleaded gently as he patted the seat next to him. Justin sighed then and finally walked back over to his chair and sat down on the edge of his seat.
"I offered Kingsley and his attorney a deal. He will be granted immunity – hear me out," he beseeched the other men, who he could tell were about to protest vehemently. "He will be granted immunity from further prosecution as long as he testifies against Prescott's scheme to hire a hit man for Brian and Sinclair. AND we have video proof that he did indeed visit Prescott at the prison on the day and time he maintained he did."
"That's it?" Brian responded cynically. "A video? You KNOW this asshole; that won't fucking hold water. The man's slicker than butter. What good will the video do? For all we know they could have been talking about Girl Scout cookies. That fucking doesn't prove a thing," he maintained, as Justin nodded silently in agreement.
"I agree totally," Greg responded promptly. "And I would be worried if that was all we had, too. But there's more. That's where Prescott's brother comes in," he informed them.
"Yeah, Kingsley turned in an Oscar-winning performance," Carl agreed.
Justin's head was swimming. He was trying furiously to make sense of what the two men were saying, but it just wasn't meshing together. "What……are you talking about?" he demanded. "Please quit talking in fucking circles and just TELL US what the hell is going on!"
"Kingsley's deal was predicated on more than just the video proof and him testifying against Prescott," Greg informed them. "He also had to agree to meet with Prescott's brother, Aiden, who was the banker, so to speak, for the hit man. Prescott had instructed Kingsley to meet with his brother who was going to payroll the arrangement. That's where Carl came in," he said, nodding to the other man to continue the narrative.
"Greg asked me to set up Kingsley with a state-of-the-art camera and microphone – kind of ironic, isn't it?" he commented. "Greg and I were a little worried that Kingsley wouldn't be able to carry it out," he told the two men truthfully. "But the man also knew his freedom was contingent upon it, as well as his very life. The son of a birth was running scared, that's for sure."
He continued, "The man actually surprised us. He met with Prescott's brother at a hotel downtown, and we got it all down in living color. The sound and video are clear as a bell."
"Un-fucking-believable," Brian muttered. "TWO of those fuckers running around. Proves that psychopaths definitely run in the family."
A sudden fear gripped Justin, however. "You ARE saying, I hope, that you have enough to put both men away forever? Both Prescott brothers?" he asked tensely.
"Yes and no," Greg said somewhat vaguely.
"What does that mean?" Brian demanded. If there was any possibility that either Prescott could get out of jail in the near future and come anywhere near Justin, they would be a dead man.
"Calm down, Brian," Carl warned him. "Listen to the man. It's going to be okay," he assured both men.
Brian huffed. "I'll be the judge of that, Carl. Just fucking tell us what's going on."
Greg nodded. "It took a little arm-twisting, shall we say. I wish you could have been there, by the way, when Prescott's brother was arrested at the corporate headquarters – he was not a happy camper," he chuckled. "Made quite a spectacle of himself. Kept saying the cuffs were chafing his wrists, and hollering for his attorney. Once we got him back to the office, though, and he found out we had everything down on tape and audio, he was singing a different tune. We offered him a reduced sentence – a minimum of 25 years, that is," he hastily reassured the two men, "in return for his testimony against his brother. We quickly found out blood isn't thicker than water when it comes to your own hide. With both Kingsley's and Aiden Prescott's testimony, Lane Prescott will never see any light outside a prison cell again."
Brian sat there stunned into silence. A myriad of emotions tumbled through his head at the moment: initially shock, anger, and disgust, but these were quickly replaced by triumph, vindication and jubilation.
Brian looked over at Justin, briefly worried about his husband's reaction to this last, tumultuous episode in the Prescott saga. His concern over his lover's reaction, though, was washed away by the smile he found on Justin's face, his eyes glistening with tears. Tears of relief and joy this time, though.
"Is it finally over?" he softly asked the brunet.
"Yeah, Sunshine," he answered tenderly, with not a touch of hesitation in his eyes. "It is."
TBC.....AT LEAST ONE MORE CHAPTER.....