Miracle At The 12th Precinct
CHAPTER 25 Christmas Dragnet
Disclaimer: The Castle characters do not belong to me. They're only on loan.
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Interrogation Room A the Precinct...
Vinny Costa knew he was screwed - but it didn't stop him from being pissed off. He sat cuffed to the table in the interrogation room, contemplating his fate and tried hard to focus on the breathing exercises his doctor had taught him. He was still sweating like a pig from fighting off the damn cops who'd gotten the jump on him. Ten years earlier - they never would have stood a chance- no matter how many of them there were. But he'd gotten old, reached the end of the line, the point of no return - it looked like the time had finally come to officially get out of the biz. It was just as well. He was done with the life he'd been leading; Doc said it wasn't healthy anyways. He looked up and caught a glimpse of his partner, BB, who was being dragged along by two cops at his sides, probably on his way into another room for questioning. Their eyes met briefly, but long enough for Vinny to see the fear in BB's. He could tell BB was freaked he'd be ratted out. For once, Vinny thought his idiot partner might actually have a clue.
The door opened and he forgot his troubles for a minute at the sight of the sexy detective who sauntered in and took a seat directly across from him. She might be a cop, but she was all woman – curves from head to toe, legs for miles, like one of those bad-ass, steely-eyed dames from those thirties noir flicks he got a kick outta watching. Only this one, she carried a gun at her hip and looked like she couldn't wait to try it out on him. Even with his admitted limited knowledge of the inner workings of a woman's mind, he could see she was in no mood for any of his shit. The daggers she shot him had him sitting up rim-rod straight in his seat.
Not surprisingly, she got right to the point. "Vinny Costa. I'm Detective Kate Beckett. Do you understand why you were arrested today?"
"Yeah, I got an inkling, sweetheart." He cringed at the glare he received back indicating he should maybe consider addressing her a little differently. Again, his eyes landed her gun. "I mean, Detective."
She opened his file. "Let's review anyway, shall we? Wanted for the murder of Timothy Frost, racketeering, withholding evidence in a police investigation, assault and battery, kidnapping, homicide..." Her eyebrows rose. "Oh, and here's a new one from today – resisting arrest…"
He cut her off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get the picture. I've been very, very bad, and things ain't looking too good for me. I get that. But maybe instead of scaring the crap outta me, maybe those cops that dragged me down here coulda asked me a little more nicely to come along with them. I'm just sayin'."
She stared at him incredulously. He expected her to believe he'd fought off six armed police officers because they had bad manners. He was a real piece of work. "Unbelievable." She muttered.
"Listen, we both know I ain't no angel, but you got it all wrong sweetheart, uh, I mean, Detective. I didn't kill the elf-like kid, Timmy. You got the wrong guy." He hated being a snitch, well, mostly, but there was no way in hell he was going down for what BB had done, no matter how long they'd been partners.
"Funny, Vinny...I never said who it was we believe you killed." She paused and watched his Adam's Apple bob. "And your buddy, Bernie, he says otherwise - gave you up to the Feds in a heartbeat."
Of course he did, the rat bastard. I'm gonna kill him. He felt his blood boiling as he tried to remain calm. He tried to reason with her. "Yeah, well look, you seem like a smart girl, but perhaps you didn't pick up on it right away – BB, he's a lying sack of shit." His voice rose as he struggled to control his temper. The Doc had told him he wasn't supposed to get all worked up – bad for his blood pressure. He took a deep breath while she waited patiently. "Like I said, Doll, you got it all wrong, But I suppose you're gonna want my story. Am I right? Or am I right?"
His bluntness surprised her. "Well, yes." She replied, nodding back.
"I'm gonna make this real simple for you, Detective. You give me what I want and I'll spill my guts; tell you the whole damn story - not that you'll believe me, because half of it's well, it's…fucking nuts, but whatever – don't make it any less true. I seen it with my own eyes. Hell, I'll even toss you a bone and tell you where that son of a bitch BB hid the gun he used to kill that nice little elf-kid, Timmy."
"You know where the murder weapon is?" She asked, surprised.
He laughed out loud. "You're kidding, right? BB, he thinks I don't pay attention, but that dumb-ass has been hiding shit in the same damn spot for years. Guy's sharp as a butter knife. And they call me dumb? I ain't as dumb as people give me credit for…wait a minute, that didn't come out right. What I meant was, I'm smarter than I look." He paused to reflect on that statement as well, choosing to go with it. "Anyway, we've known each other since we was kids and you don't know someone that long and not know how they think or where they buried the bodies…if ya know what I mean."
Kate's eyebrows rose to her hairline. "Where exactly have you been burying them, Vinny?"
Admittedly, a couple of bodies he and BB buried together over the years popped into his head, however, instead of running off at the mouth like he was often accused of doing, he amended his statement. "Figuratively speaking, of course." He sensed her disbelief. "But I digress. Before I agree to play ball, first I'll need a few things in return. It's only right."
"You're really in no position to make demands at the moment, Vinny." she said. "Our case against you is rock-solid. Your buddy BB's pointing the finger at you and has conveniently presented an alibi for himself. What about you, Vinny? You got an alibli?"
He searched his mind for the alibi Drago had told him to work out, but her staring made him nervous and he came up flat. His face turned red, his fists clenched - she knew she had him.
"Honey, let me tell you something about BB; he's a lying, cheating, conniving, lying, – wait, I said lying already - selfish, rat-bastard who wouldn't know what loyalty was if it took a big fat bite outta his ass. You think I don't know it was only a matter of time before he went and tried to pin something he done, on me, in order to save his sorry ass?"
She kept a straight face, pretended not to believe him even though they already knew it was BB who'd actually shot Timmy. She'd need to keep poking the bear if she wanted to break him. It also hadn't gone unnoticed he'd glossed the question as to his alibi. "Why were you at Henry Jenkins apartment that night? Did you go there with the intent to kill Timothy Jones? "
He remained silent despite knowing exactly what prompted them to go over there that night. He felt all kinds of guilty over it, never intending to get the kid killed. He only wanted to fuck with BB a little. He and Sal had just been having a little fun. He never expected things to get so out of control. Fucking BB - guy's a loose cannon. He debated coming clean with her, but then thought better of it, deciding not to say another word before he got something in return - in writing. "Look – how about I save the both of us some time? It's simple, really. I'm a man of few needs who's had a long time to prepare for this here very day." He shrugged at her confusion. "It's been coming since grade school." He explained.
"And what day would that be exactly?" She asked, surprised to find him caving so easily. Frankly she was a little disappointed. By the looks of him she'd expected more of a fight.
His chuckle was filled with irony. "What day? What day you ask?" He repeated. "Well honey, that day would be today - the sad day of my inevitable re-incarceration." He answered, defeated. "Anyways, I got a list. Right up here." Since he was still cuffed, he motioned with his eyes indicating it was in the top of his head. "I call it - my retirement plan; ain't much, believe me."
"Okay, Vinny. I'll bite. Why don't you spell it out for me. Tell me what you want." She said, pushing a pad of paper and pen in his direction, then calling in the guard to un-cuff him. "I'll bring it to my boss. See what she says."
He started writing while she patiently waited. "This outta do it." He said, pushing the paper across the table. She stepped out of the room to meet up with Gates who'd been listening in behind the glass.
"Thoughts, Detective? Do you think he'll make a viable witness?" Gates asked.
"Well, I know it sounds crazy, Sir, but for a criminal, I'm finding him a rather straight shooter. So, so far… I'd have to say, yes."
"You're handling him well." Gates said.
"Thank you, Sir. Although if he calls me sweetheart or honey one more time I may lose it and put a round in him myself."
"You've shown great restraint." The Captain agreed. Beckett waited while Gates read through Vinny's list of demands. Gates removed her glasses and looked up. "He wasn't kidding. It's really not much. Most of these I can probably pull off; solitary confinement, witness protection program if he ever manages to get out, which is unlikely. But, Detective, these others, are they for real? Cable television and a working DVD player so he can watch first run and reruns of Temptation Lane."
"I believe so, Sir."
"Highly unorthodox, but I'll take it to the DA, see what I can do. But first, I'll be needing the location of that gun."
"Yes, Sir."
XXXXXXXXXXX
Somewhere on 34th Street...
Late for work, Billy Sanchez got off the bus and hurried along the few blocks to work. Hoping to appease his munchies, he stopped along the way for a buttered roll at the deli he often frequented. He was at the register when he felt a tugging at his pants leg. He looked down but there was nothing there so he assumed he'd imagined it. After paying for his breakfast he left the store and continued on his way to work. A sharp pain in his calf stopped him dead in his tracks. Something had bitten him. "Damn!" He knelt down to take a look assuming it was a bug and swatted at his pants leg.
"Hey!" Tommy yelled, hanging on to Billy's pant's leg for dear life. "Stop hitting me, Dude!"
Startled, Billy fell over on his ass and Tommy landed on his chest.
"Billster – it's me - Tommy!" The miniature elf explained.
"Holy Crap!" Billy yelled, clearly freaked. He scooped Tommy up in the palm of his hand then quickly got to his feet holding Tommy at eye level. "Woah. I. Am. Totally. Tripping." He said, examining him closely. "Excellent weed." His laughed, until his hallucination wacked him on the nose. "Ouch!"
"It's really me, Billster. It's me, Tommy. Say, what do you think of my new super-power?" He boasted. "Shrink-ability. Pretty cool, huh?"
"Tommy?" He marveled. "Awesome, way impressive."
"I know right? Thanks. Now please hurry! Find us an alley where we can talk privately and I can change back to normal height."
"Sure thing." Billy did as he was asked, mesmerized as Tommy changed back to his normal self again before his very eyes.
"Woah." Billy said, completely dazzled. "Yo, that was totally cool Dude, and it's great to see you and all - hey, sorry about what went down - but you and your mama, man, you got to stop scaring the crap out of me."
"Apologies."
"Don't sweat it, sometimes really little dude, but your mom's pretty pissed, man and she's hunting down your sorry ass. So are the cops and that crazy-eyed dude, you know, the one who got tossed by security a while back."
Tommy swallowed hard at the thought of running into BB again. "BB, yes, I know. And thanks, but forget about them right now, Billster. We need to focus on finding Holly."
"Like I told your mama, man, cops got her – haven't seen her since we all got picked up."
He was determined to find her. "Does the name, Richard Castle mean anything to you?"
"Yeah, sure, he's that famous writer-dude down at the po-po who hangs with the hot detective chick - the one who hauled in our asses. Personally, I'm not much of a reader, but my mom said his books rock." He paused. "That's weird, your mama asked about him too. Mom's must really like him. Jeeze, man, everyone's out freaking looking for you. They think you killed the Timster. I told them they were crazy - no way, you'd never hurt him, but I don't think they believed me. Maybe you should turn yourself in? Tell 'em to chill."
"I will, I promise, once I apologize to Holly. Mother told me after everything that happened, Holly hates me and I refuse to leave things like this."
"No way. Holly could never hate you. She loves you, man. Look, I feel bad hating on any dude's mamma, but you know yours is pretty whacked in the head, right? No offense."
"None taken."
"She's got some major issues; fumes were rolling off her, man. I think she may have a serious drinking problem. And coming from me, that's saying something."
"I'm beginning to realize that, but enough about mother, Billster. I need you to help me track down this Richard Castle person. He'll lead me to Holly. I'm sure of it."
"Hey, I've got a better idea. They made me a deputy down at the 12th precinct."
"They made you a what?" Tommy asked, confused. His friend really needed to lay off the funny stuff.
"A deputy. Pretty awesome, huh? How about I call my detective buddy? Bet he knows where his pal be chillin'."
"No, Billy. No cops! Not yet anyway. What we need right now is access to a laptop and maybe one of those coffee houses with internet or a library." He pleaded. "Promise me you won't call him yet!"
Billy had never seen his friend so scared and it had him real freaked out. Tommy was on the verge of hysterics and needed his help. As a sworn deputy it was his duty to help those in need. "Okay, little man, simmer down. I won't call him, I promise. On my honor...I, Deputy Sanchez, will help you."
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Back at the 12th Precinct...
Before beginning her interrogation with Bernie Balboa, Jordan made a quick stop back at her desk to pick up the files she'd compiled on him. She was immediately handed a phone by one of her agents and told it was an important call for her from out in the field.
"Special Agent Shaw." She answered. It was Jack, a top agent she'd assigned to locate Jimmy Russo, the man that had been allegedly shot by Bernie "BB" Balboa years before. They'd never found the weapon used, until now, and Jimmy hadn't been seen or heard from since shortly after the incident. Before disappearing he'd flat out refused to testify against Balboa or the Mangosa family for fear of retribution. Balboa had walked for that one, but Jordan swore he wouldn't get away with the murder of Timothy Jones. "What do you have for me, Jack? And for god sakes, make it good…"
Interrogation Room B...
Bernie "BB" Balboa, fidgeted in his chair while awaiting yet another round of questioning. Although he'd insisted to the cops they had him on a bunch of trumped up charges it was becoming clear to him he was in a shit-load of trouble, that is, if he was to believe the smoking hot, albeit pissed off, lady cop who'd questioned him the night before. Her mad interrogation skills may work on some, but this wasn't his first time at the rodeo; he gave up nothing. Whatever they thought they had, was circumstantial so he refused to freak out. In his eyes it was a classic case of he said, she said, and their witness, the old man, was a nut job.
Since being arrested, he'd used his one phone call to contact his boss, Drago Mangosa, but was forced to leave a voicemail since he wasn't picking up - probably due to the late hour and all. By the next morning, however, when he still hadn't heard squat, not even from the lawyer he knew Drago kept on retainer, he started to wonder what was up. It was beginning to look as though the detective had been right and he just might be on his own. Then again, it could be Drago was pissed at him, temporarily, and thought he deserved to stew a little - catch some heat - always a distinct possibility.
They'd brought him in for shooting Timothy Jones, but they could only hold him for so long without more proof. Their only witness to the shooting, other than his good buddy Vinny, was a senile old man who ran around telling people he was Santa Claus. The judge would laugh the case out of court. It was his word against the nut-job. He also knew the cops would never find the murder weapon which was well-hidden thanks to his own ingenuity. And then there was Vinny - good old Vinny. They went way back, no way he'd ever rat him out - but mainly because Vinny didn't have the balls. And sure, his partner was a moron, but he was also loyal to a fault, a weakness which would finally work in his favor after having annoyed the crap out of him for years.
BB leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath. There were, of course, a few other extracurricular activities that might possibly be cause for alarm. He sat back and reflected on his life choices which included; gambling, fraud scams, and extortion listed among his top favorites. Since he'd always prided himself on being careful he wasn't overly concerned about the cops nailing him. Frankly, he was more afraid of Drago finding out. There were a few things the boss didn't have the complete picture on yet, including the truth on how his brother, Carlos died. If Drago knew…he wouldn't be sitting here right now – he'd be dead already.
Despite the inner pep-talk, BB couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in his gut. Memories drifted through his mind, times when his partner Vinny, undoubtedly the most annoying person in the world, may have possibly, wrongly misconstrued he'd been mistreated by him. BB shook it off. Vinny was nothing if not predictable; he'd keep his mouth shut. Not to mention this whole thing was basically all his fault. Vinny would never talk. Vinny owed him big.
He wouldn't even be in this predicament right now if he hadn't listened to Vinny in the first place. He would have just shot that fucking elf Tommy Frost and the old man when he'd had the chance. Badda-bing, badda-boom; no more witness to worry about. That kid, Tommy, his bat-shit, crazy-ass mother and freak of an uncle, were nothing but trouble since day one. He wished they'd never laid eyes on the bunch of them.
He was replaying the alibi he'd given the cops when the door flew opened, startling him. A Fed in a pinned-up suit sauntered in grinning like she'd just heard a good joke. His stomach muscles clenched as he wondered what the fuck was so funny. She took her time sitting down across from him, preparing her little paper and pen, never once looking at him directly. He tried not to question why his heart-rate had quickened.
When she did finally acknowledge him, her eyes were hard as steel, her voice - titanium. "Hello Bernie. I'm Special Agent Shaw. I've been looking forward to this for a very long time." She watched him squirm in his seat. "Now, how about you take another shot at that lame-ass alibi of yours?"
The alibi he'd lined up had been rock solid so he refused to let her spook him. He sat up straight and once again retold his ridiculous story as though he believed it himself. He'd been hanging out with a friend, of the female persuasion, far, far across town from where Timothy Jones' apartment was located. He gave her the name of his girlfriend and grinned like an idiot as he alluded to their sexual activities on the evening in question. "So you see, it's just like I told that Detective last night. I was otherwise, occupied. You can check."
He was a lying piece of crap, but Jordan kept her calm, consoling herself with thoughts of putting him in prison for the rest of his pathetic life and knowing there was no way in hell any sane woman would subject herself to a night in his company. "You know Bernie, I think it's great you have that memory." She watched his brows furrow. "No, I do. I really do. Because even though it's a complete and utter lie, you'll have something to keep you warm at night while you're rotting behind bars for the next 30 years. I mean on those rare nights when you're not already busy being somebody else's bitch. But, hey…maybe I'm just a romantic?"
It was obvious she had it in for him – real bad, but if he was going down, it wouldn't be without a fight. "You got my alibi."
He came off like a petulant child and she laughed in his face. "Sorry, Bernie, but I really thought this was going to be so much harder. I expected more of a challenge. You see, we did check out your alibi. And not only has your girlfriend confirmed she wasn't with you that night…she's filed charges against you." She shook her head and tsk-tsk'd. "It says here you stole some money from her."
He turned away, cursed under his breath.
She could tell from his slumped posture he'd taken the blow hard. It was time to up her game – strike while the iron was hot. They didn't have his partner Vinny Costa's confession yet, but BB didn't know that. Besides she had the utmost confidence in Beckett to obtain one and BB wasn't the only one in the room who liked to do a little gambling. "We have eye-witnesses willing to testify you pulled the trigger, killing Timothy Jones."
"He's lying."
"I never said it was a "he", and there's more than one witness, I'm afraid." She was enjoying messing with his head.
"Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, lady, but sometimes a so-called witness can get all sorts of mixed up, confused almost…if you know what I mean." He laughed and she tilted her head, waiting, until he absorbed what she'd said previously. She knew the moment it clicked - he lost the grin. "Wait. What do you mean there's more than one witness?"
"Good catching up, BB. Maybe you're not as dumb as they say. Just a little on the slow side. For yes, Bernie, there are two witnesses. Want to know who they are?" She asked, teasing him.
He nodded, mutely.
"Henry Jenkins…"
"He's crazy, don't count."
"…And, then there's your buddy, Vinny Costa. Well I guess calling him your buddy now just seems all kinds of wrong, doesn't it? How about, former business associate?"
"You're lying. Vinny would never..."
"He would. And he did. The deal's been cut. He was all kinds of chatty. Couldn't shut him up. Called you a few choice names, too." She let out a slow whistle, shook her head. "The mouth on that guy. You should really pick your friends better. You know, I don't think he likes you too much. He was pretty pissed off at you." She let him stew on that, watched his fists clench and face turned beet red. "What's wrong, BB? You seem upset."
He didn't reply. He was too busy thinking up ways to kill Vinny in case what she said was true. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, but it didn't help lessen the tension any. Still he managed a chuckle at her scare tactics; he'd bet she was lying about Vinny giving him up.
"You've pissed off a lot of people, BB. And I'm not referring to Timothy Jones. He can't get mad anymore. Because you killed him. I'm talking about the other guy you shot."
He had no idea what she was talking about. "What other guy?"
"Oh, look, I've confused you again. You remember, Jimmy Russo, right? It was a long time ago, I know."
He felt nauseous and considered asking her to call back in the detective from the night before to finish up the questioning, but thought better of it, not wanting to risk pissing this one off any more than she already was. "That there was all rumors." He shrugged, full of false bravado. "Matter of fact, the way I remember it, Russo even cleared my good name. Besides I heard he relocated or something."
"Well, yes, he did…until we found him - today, actually. Crazy timing, huh?"
BB smirked. "He'll never testify. If memory serves he was always a little on the skittish side."
Jordan glanced back over her shoulder and nodded to someone behind the glass mirror of the observation room. The lights went on and there stood, Jimmy Russo, an unwelcome flash from his past. He gave BB a lopsided grin and small wave before the lights went back off leaving only their reflection. BB's face went white as a sheet.
"Apparently, he's had some time to reconsider. Forced exile will do that to a guy. He's recanted his previous claim regarding your innocence and gave his signed statement as soon as he'd heard we'd arrested you, Vinny, Drago and Edmondo." It was a gentle lie, but it got his pupils dilating. They didn't have the Mangosas yet, but would by the end of the day if Jordan had anything to say about it.
He seemed to have lost the gift of speech. She helped him out. "Oh, did I mention we found the gun you shot him with, by the way - with your prints all over it." His face took on a slightly greenish I am so fucked tinge and she thought about backing her chair up in case he lost his cookies. "It must have slipped my mind, lots going on. What with all the arrests." She rested her elbow on the table, chin on her hand. "You know what was really weird though?"
He mutely shook his head and turned away. She didn't bother waiting for his response. "Where we found the gun - in Henry Jenkins' apartment. Of all places. Heh. Weird, right?"
He did a double-take, his eyes widening. He'd searched high and low for that gun in Jenkins' apartment - multiple times, but kept coming up empty. How in the hell did I miss it? For once Vinny had been right. Tommy the elf-kid had stolen the gun from Drago's safe and then hidden it at home. He longed for a do-over so he could shoot the right elf this time.
"Something wrong, Bernie? You seem upset. We've been finding all sorts of things lately; including your fingerprints on an illegal credit card scanning device." She sat back fully relaxed and grinned, relishing the occasional perks of her job. It wasn't everyday she got to watch a slime-ball of his caliber shrivel-up before her eyes, after all. She let out a slow whistle. "You should have seen Drago and Edmondo's reaction when they found out about your little side business." She shook her head, mocking him.
If Drago and Edmondo knew about his side jobs - he was a goner. He couldn't meet her eyes and looked away. He thought about coming clean with her on how Carlos Mangosa really died. Maybe he'd get less time with an insanity plea? "I don't know what you're talking about." He said, meekly.
"Okay. If you say so." She smirked, then rose from her chair to pace the room. "We have plenty of other things to discuss. Like for instance, the bombing at Henry Jenkins' apartment – the one that killed four people, left dozens injured. Do you know what they do to people that blow shit up on U.S. soil these days?" She leaned over on the desk, got in his face, turning serious. "I do. They go away for a really, really long time. To a little place called, Guantanamo."
His eyes bugged out. "Guantanamo? What? What the hell are you talking about lady? I had nothing to do with no bomb!" He cried, panicking. "You can't pin that on me! Why the hell would I do a thing like that?" He shouted. The intense fevered stare she returned confirmed yelling at her would get him nowhere. She had it in for him real bad and nothing he could say would make him look less guilty in her eyes. He crossed his arms, averted his gaze. "I want a lawyer." He growled.
"First smart words to come out of your mouth, Bernie. You'll need one. A really good one." She replied, raising her brows. "Because your luck's run out, BB, and putting you behind bars is the only thing I've asked Santa for this Christmas."
XXXXXXXXXX
Back at Castle's Loft...
After working on his powers for a few hours and giving his sworn testimony to the police officer Kate had sent over, Kris began to show signs of tiring. Rick and Holly insisted he lie down for awhile in Castle's guest room and take a nap. He reluctantly agreed.
Breanna Frost took another swig of liquid courage, discouraged to discover her supply had nearly run dry. "Hello, Christopher," came the familiar voice that grated on his every nerve. He lifted his lids, and there she was, at the foot of the bed, looming over him – the bane of his existence.
He remained still. "I must be having another nightmare. I'll just close my eyes and then she'll be gone again." He reclosed his eyes.
She smacked his foot then crossed her arms. "It's good to see you too, old man. But, my, you look like hell."
He opened one eye. "Nope. Still here." He sat up, fully awake and prepared to duel. He absorbed her outfit and raised his brows. "I dare say that's a new look for you, Breanna." She attempted to straighten her dress and he noticed her sway slightly. "Still boozing it up, I see. Explains the attire."
Un-amused, she glared back. "And I see, you're still - charming as ever."
"Breanna, what are you doing here? And how on Earth did you find me?"
"Well, as usual you made it difficult for me, but that comes as no great surprise. And I'd love to continue our delightful repartee however, we've important matters to attend to. I've come with a proposition."
"A proposition? I see. Yes, well, it wouldn't be the first time you've done that now, would it? Good lord, woman. A hundred and fifty years later...how many times does a man have to say no to you before you take a hint? I'm still not interested."
"A business proposition, you fossil. Don't flatter yourself."
"Ah. Right. My mistake." He replied, skeptical. "Get to it then. What is it you want this time?"
"I've located Thomas."
That got his attention and he sat upright in bed, his face lighting up. "Oh, thank goodness! Is he all right? Has he been injured?" He scanned around the room. "Where is he? Have you taken him back to the Pole?"
"He's fine." She rolled her eyes. "But no, he's not safe at home. Which is entirely your fault or have you forgotten? You went and grounded him you old fool." She looked skyward as though speaking to the heavens. "Oh, dear Lord it's worse than I thought. I'd heard you'd taken a nasty blow to the head, but I'd no idea it had left you so daft."
He remembered quite well, but refused to answer to her. He narrowed his eyes, his tone one of warning. "Where is he, Breanna? Where are you keeping him? There are police searching for him and hooligans out to do him harm. He must come forward of his own accord immediately and take full responsibility for the trouble he's caused. And no matter what you may believe, he's not safe out there all by himself – not with these lunatics on the loose. But the authorities, they've promised they can protect him."
She checked her manicure. "You always were quite the drama queen. Stop carrying on so. Thomas is perfectly safe for the time being. And he won't be coming forward until I instruct him to do so."
"What kind of game are you playing, woman? Crimes have been committed. He must come forward and take responsibility for what he's done. What hand have you in this nonsense?"
"I assure you this is no game, Christopher. And I'm perfectly innocent of any wrongdoing, I might add. My only desire is to see my son protected."
"Uh, huh..."He replied, certain there wasn't an innocent bone in her body.
She ignored his obvious disbelief. "That being said, there are a few conditions to discuss before I will allow Thomas to come forward."
"Conditions? Are you mad, woman? He's your son! You should be concerned for his well-being; especially after what happened to poor, dear Timmy."
She tried her best to appear contrite, brought her hand to her heart. "Yes, please forgive me. Where are my manners? Such a horrible loss. My deepest condolences."
"Spare me your falsities, woman. It's no great secret how you felt about the boy and we both know why. But I would think at the very least you would care about the safety of your own son! What kind of mother are you, anyway? You should be ashamed of yourself."
Her renown powers of persuasion had never worked well on him and in that moment she loathed him for it. "How dare you imply I'm a bad mother. Get off your high horse, old man. Had you been watching him properly in the first place we wouldn't even be in this predicament – and then on top of it all, you went and grounded him. You're his blood for god-sakes and he was left in your charge. This entire ordeal is all your fault. I'm only looking after his best interests." She'd struck a nerve and he looked away, guilt-ridden, which pleased her immensely.
"What is it exactly you want, Breanna?"
That's better. "For starters you'll un-ground Thomas, this instant! He's a good boy, despite, shall we say, a few, unfortunate, minor errors in judgment."
"I'll do no such thing. You'll bring him here to me, immediately. And then, once he's done what is right, I'll consider his un-grounding."
"And if I refuse?"
"Perhaps I should do the universe a favor right now and simply ground you as well then?" He threatened, raising a brow. "We both know it's long overdue. Why, if it wasn't for your sister, I'd have done it years ago."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Or would I?"
"If you do, I'll see to it you never lay eyes on Thomas again which means you'll never find out who masterminded that nasty little explosion in your apartment killing your precious Timothy."
"And what exactly would you know about that?"
"Oodles, but never you mind, just do as I ask and I'll tell you what I've learned. My version of it. And seeing as I'm in a generous mood I'll even throw in the ruffian who planted the device." She grimaced. "Mortals...such an uncivilized lot. I'll never understand what it is you see in them."
"No, Breanna, and you never will." He sighed heavily, as opposed to hitting her with his cane, which his wife would definitely frown upon. "What exactly are your other demands, Breanna?"
"The girl, Helga, I want her gone." She demanded, straightening her posture, bracing herself for battle.
He shook his head. "Am I to assume you are referring to, Holly?"
"Of course, Polly, that's what I said.
"It's Holly, you old crone and it will never happen – not on my watch."
She gave him the evil eye, which he returned, remaining unfazed. A different tactic would be in order if she was to convince him. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but...it's absurd for them to be together and you know it. It will never work. No self-respecting elf has ever married a mere mortal for god-sakes. I shudder to think how their offspring will turn out. They'll be made a laughing stock. I know you wouldn't want that for Thomas."
She sickened him. "Those are your future grandchildren you're disparaging. Get a grip on yourself. I've no doubt Tommy and Holly will overcome any obstacles which may arise." He said, getting angrier by the minute. "And please allow me take this opportunity to remind you, the powers you possess are nothing compared to the power of true love, which in the end, will always prevail. Even you can't stop it, Breanna."
"Oh, good lord, puh-leese." She checked her manicure again. "Spare me your sentimental propaganda. It bores me so."
"It's time you removed the noose around Thomas' neck, let him grow up, make his own choices, take responsibility for his actions. Let him be his own man."
"That is none of your business."
His blood pressure was on the rise and he was moments away from losing his temper which he'd only done a handful of times in nearly two centuries. He found himself clenching the bed sheets. "Be that as it may, the subject of breaking up Holly and Tommy is non-negotiable. I'll have no part in it and neither will you."
They silently glared at one another, worthy opponents at an impasse, each willing the other to stand down.
His quick dismissal of her request to break up her son and the harlot came as no great surprise to her, but she could wait. It would be done with or without his help. For now she'd let him think he'd won a round. She had bigger fish to fry. "Fine. I'll bow to your better judgment."
Kris was not to be fooled. He knew her all too well and far too long. She would never acquiesce so easily. He eyed her carefully, wondering what else she had up her sleeve. "What is it you truly want, Breanna?"
"I thought you'd never ask. When we return home you'll refrain from discussing Thomas' distasteful, minor gambling problem, nor will you reveal details of any alleged illegal activities that in your opinion may have transpired here. You will only confirm he acted courageously in an attempt to save both you and Timothy on the night of the explosion and that he has done nothing but work tirelessly to bring the guilty parties to justice. Thomas is to be labeled a hero and you're to officially make him your new first assistant."
He made a show of considering it. Her request seemed almost selfless. "What else?" He'd be shocked to find she didn't want something entirely for herself.
She stared into his eyes weighing how far she could push him. "Since you've brought it up, there is one last thing." She said. "I'm tired of being treated like a second class citizen in my own hometown. I demand respect. I'm not a fool. I'm well-aware of how they speak of me behind my back. You are to put an end to it once and for all."
And there it was – her selfish request and true goal. He crossed his arms, silently mulling it over as he tugged at his beard.
"Well?" She spit out, becoming increasingly impatient.
"This is quite the conundrum. I'm still thinking."
"We haven't got all day old man." She said. "Time is of the essence."
"Very well, Breanna." He reluctantly agreed. "You have my word. Hold up your end of the bargain and when we all return home I'll do as you've asked."
She gave him a self-satisfying smirk. "Now see that wasn't so hard was it, Kris? I knew you would see reason." She raised her arms above her head preparing to depart, but he stopped her.
"Not so fast. I've a few conditions of my own." He said, surprising her.
"I'm listening." She replied, confident she could handle whatever challenge he threw her way.
"First, you'll bring me Thomas and the names and locations of those responsible for blowing up our building as discussed. However, you'll do it by sunset today and not a minute past. A few hours to right the wrong your proclaimed innocence has somehow surely caused, is, I believe, quite generous of me. Do so, and you may return home where I promise to uphold my end of the bargain; Tommy becomes my heroic assistant, your transgressions are forgiven and you get to keep what very little is left of your dignity. However painful it will be for me personally, they'll believe you the next Mother Theresa. In addition, you will cease interference with Thomas and Holly's relationship. Your meddling is unhealthy and frankly, more than a little disturbing. You should really think about talking to someone about that. He's a grown man, for God sakes.
"Yes, yes, fine…have you finished?" She asked, bored to tears.
"No." He replied. "I've saved the best for last. Since nothing would give me greater joy – if you don't come through as promised – if I find you are playing your usual games, you'll leave me no choice but to ground you. You'll be banished for good. I have faith whatever sins you've committed during your time here will come to light and justice will be served. As for Jessica, once she learns the entire truth her acceptance of your banishment will come…eventually. And in the meantime, we have a very comfortable couch. I'll stand for no more of your trickery. Heed my words…"
Though it killed her, she knew he was right about her holier-than-thou, half-witted sister. The dim-witt would surely forgive his pompous ass over time for banishing her. Regardless, it wasn't in Breanna's nature to let him spook her. He had no idea how she'd spent her time on Earth, nor would he ever find out - if she had anything say on the matter. And regardless of his sanctimonious threats she'd indeed find a way to break up her only son's most distasteful romance. The situation just called for some creativity on her part. She had four whole hours which was more than enough time to work with since Thomas was obediently awaiting her return like the good little puppet he was. The odds of success were well in her favor.
"Well? What say you? Clock's ticking. Do we have an agreement or not?" Kris asked.
With pursed lips, she held her head high. "You drive a hard bargain, but…agreed. Farewell for now, Christopher. I'll be back." Then she snapped her fingers and disappeared in a flash of smoke and lights leaving him wondering if he'd just made a pact with the devil himself.