Chapter Title: Investigations
Author: Sam
Story: Speed Trap: 12 of 23
Series: SpeedBurn: 09
Setting: Thursday, January 27, 2005: New York City. Friday, January 28, 2005: Miami.
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Thursday, January 27, 2005: New York City:
Mac looked at the burned tattoo, Tanglewood, and frowned softly. When asked if he knew about Tanglewood, he had to honestly reply, "No." He wasn't familiar with New York gangs especially Staten Island gangs. A sudden memory came back, a memory of Danny relaying information about a local Staten Island hood connected with gangs and Mafia, a Danny with fear in his voice, relaying that the hood had been rumored to have killed before. Mac looked up. "But I think I know someone who does."
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Thursday, January 27, 2005: New York City:
Danny watched the interview end and the officers lead Sonny Sassone out of the room. Sonny hadn't seen him behind the protective viewing glass, but Danny felt sure the other man knew he was there. The look on Mac's face at Sonny's parting comment: that the Tanglewood Boys knew all about Danny, that Danny knew all about them, made the blond want to cry. The trust he'd worked so hard to keep between himself and his boss looked like it was beginning to crumble right in front of him. Just last week Mac had asked him about his old connections; he should have mentioned the Tanglewood Boys then.
The need for trust had stopped him. The desire to just bury his sordid past and forget it ever happened had misled him. Now he was paying with more than his life; he was paying with the very hard won trust of Mac Taylor. How could he regain that trust? Was it too late? Making a very difficult decision Danny straightened his shoulders. It might not help, might sever the bond completely, but he'd do it.
With a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady his pounding heart, Danny headed for the interrogation room before either Mac or Stella could leave it. He opened the door, saw their expressions, and nearly lost his nerve. Gathering his courage once more, he walked in and shut the door. "Mac?"
Mac waited, his expression closed, his manner wary.
Danny wanted to cry; his boss was so cold. He pressed on. "You asked me last week about that guy I knew when I was a kid? TJ Spedelli?" Interest lit Mac's eyes and there appeared to be a glimmer of something . . . was he willing to forgive Danny his secrets for this information about Joe?
"Spedelli was a Tanglewood Boy, Mac, one of the worst." He drew a shaky hand through his hair, unaware of the sudden worry crossing Stella's face. He had to push on. "Like I said, I didn't run with Spedelli . . . even some of the Tanglewood Boys seemed afraid of him. I think," and he looked Mac straight in the eyes, "I think even Sonny was scared of Spedelli."
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Thursday, January 27, 2005: New York City:
It wasn't what Mac had wanted to hear but it was something. Danny had given him more to work with and inadvertently given him a little more on Sonny Sassone while he was at it.
Mac hadn't yet told Stella what Danny had confided to him on Joe's first day, but he had told her that Joe might be dangerous. She'd trusted him and accepted the lack of information and continued to watch the man, or have Aiden or Adam do it, daily. Never once was Danny permitted to be alone with Joe Avery, just in case.
Now Danny had opened up a little more, given him even more information on TJ Spedelli, Joe's possible alternate ego. It looked worse every time a little more information was revealed. If it wasn't for Danny's fear, he'd demand the entire story. Mac felt the Tanglewood Boys had something over Danny . . . something that made Danny too afraid to talk; someone's life, perhaps?
With a frown, unaware of the impact the sudden, fierce expression had on Danny, Mac nodded. "Thanks, Danny." He didn't see the disappointment, the defeat, in the younger man's eyes as he turned and strode hurriedly from the interrogation room. Mac Taylor was too intent on pursuing this new lead.
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Thursday, January 27, 2005: New York City:
Stella wanted to comfort the apparently crushed man still beside her. Mac's abrupt dismissal of him was cruel. But if Danny had been lying . . . and it certainly looked like he may have been . . . She trusted Mac, but she hated to see Danny this way; he was a good investigator and a good friend.
Sympathetically she touched the younger man's arm and said, "Do you need some time, Danny?"
At his sudden jerk, as if slapped, then his subsequent head shake, she had to be content. Nodding Stella gathered her file and left the room. She would talk to Mac, see if she could help work things out between the two.
When she arrived at Mac's office, Stella could see he worked on his computer, a phone clasped between shoulder and ear. He was so thoroughly involved in work, she knew she'd have to talk to him later. But she would talk to him.
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Friday, January 28, 2005: Miami:
It had been two weeks and the Miami investigators were still totally wrapped up with the IAB case, using their personal time as they had to. Between other cases they would meet in the layout room to confer with one another or to review the information so far gathered. Rarely did a meeting that contained all four detectives but once in awhile it worked out . . . like now.
Detective Horatio Caine stood by the layout table, reading over the shoulder of the much shorter Calleigh. She appeared not to mind, so he continued letting his eyes cross and re-cross the pages of the file, nodding for her to change the page when he was finished, waiting for her to catch up before she finally turned it. For their part, Delko and Ryan created a time line of Speed's life, using colored sticky tags to mark anything that would need more in-depth research.
As the team worked in harmony, trying to find anything to clear their friend and coworker, the jarring sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted them. Each went for his or her own phone while the sound continued. By the third insistent ring Horatio figured out that it was his cell and he answered it, sending a small smile to the rest of the team.
"Horatio Caine," his voice sounded calm, actually pleasant, despite the trying day and demanding work. His eyes widened as did his smile, and his voice softened to a near caress. "Hello, HR. What do you need?"
Confused, Ryan turned to glance at Delko, mouthing "Who's HR?"
Eric grinned and replied, in quite a normal tone much to Ryan's embarrassment, "HR's his son. Cute kid."
"Okay," Horatio turned his back, still smiling, but no longer making it easy for the team to hear his end of the conversation.
"HR?" Ryan persisted.
Calleigh smiled and shrugged, looking back at the file before her. "It stands for Horatio Raymond. He's a junior, but I guess having two Horatio's in the same house was too hard, so they came up with a nickname."
Ryan shook his head. "So, one's H, the other's HR. Uh, convenient." His voice gave away the fact that he found that a bit off. At Delko's laugh Ryan merely turned back to the time line.
"Did he?" The silky tone hardened but gentled a bit with his next question. "HR where are you?" After a pause to receive his son's response, the redhead continued in a careful tone. "All right. HR, I'll be right there, okay? Wait for me."
With a frown Horatio listened again to the nine-year-old on the other side. Finally he said, "Bye-bye." He hung up lifting his blue eyes to scan his team as he turned towards them. "Ah . . . I have to go. Keep me filled in." Horatio left the layout room as his people watched.
The three remaining investigators turned puzzled looks on one another but went back to work without comment. Since Horatio's ex-wife had left their son with him a month before, there had been several times the boy had called during working hours. Twice, Horatio had even left the lab, though never a crime scene, on some personal business involving HR. It appeared to be another one of those times.
"What's this?" Delko's voice broke the silence, drawing Calleigh's attention from the file once more.
Reviewing what he'd just penned in, Ryan nodded. "I don't know. Maybe some type of summer camp or city-country exchange program?"
Both men frowned at the data. Eric finally shook his head. "Maybe a summer camp, but New York City's an odd place to send a kid for his summer vacation." Quickly, Delko worked out the figures and said, "Speed was thirteen. That's a bit late to start going to camp."
Another sticker joined the multitude of already marked areas. They would need to hunt down and verify a great deal of information in order to counter Stetler's charges. No one said it would be easy, but that was what criminal investigators did: find impossibly hard to locate evidence to solve the puzzles presented to them on a regular basis.
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Continued in Chapter Thirteen: Tangled Connections