October 15, 1997
9:30 p.m.
O'Brien's Pub

A few autumn leaves blew through the heavy wooden doors as Peter Maza strode into O'Brien's Pub, a well known favorite hangout for officers. The bar was dimly lit and smelled of cheap booze and stale tobacco, shrouded with a haze of smoke that never managed to fully dissipate. The walls around the bar were covered with photos, awards, and shields from retired cops, many of whom he'd personally known and even served with. He used to meet up with Elisa at this particular haunt quite often, especially when she was looking for some advice on a case or when she needed to blow off steam, though it had been a while since she'd called to propose a drink for either reason. She'd been rather preoccupied as of late, though he preferred not to dwell on the reason why too much.

Squinting, he spotted Maria at a booth in the corner past the pool tables. She had noticed him the instant he'd stepped through the door, and waved him over when she'd caught his eye. It was a Wednesday, so there wasn't much of a crowd, but it seemed she'd gone out of her way to pick a spot that was quiet, farther from the clink of glasses or curious eyes and ears.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Peter," Maria said as he took a seat across from her at the table. "I ordered the usual for you. I hope you don't mind."

"Hey, if you're willing to pay the tab for scotch, I don't mind at all," Peter said as he took a sip of the whiskey.

"How's the 16th fairing?" Maria asked, inquiring about her old precinct.

Peter shrugged. "Fine. Juarez wanted me to tell you hi, and to remind you that you still owe him a favor."

"Hmm, I shouldn't be surprised that he'd never let me off the hook," Maria said with an amused smile.

Peter smiled back and they drank in amicable silence for a few moments.

"By the way, I'm sorry I haven't reached out… about your mother, I mean. Things have been busy, but that's not much of an excuse. I should have said something before now. I'm very sorry for your… um… loss. I suppose that's still the best word for it," Maria said as she moved a droplet of water around on the table with her finger.

Peter looked at her over his glass as he took another sip.

"Don't worry about it, but… thank you. At the very least, I'm glad to finally know what happened to her," he said.

"Closure is good. Still… that's a hard thing to discover… literal skeletons in the family closet," Maria said sympathetically.

"Yeah. The last five months haven't exactly been a picnic," Peter said bitterly.

With Beth back in New York and all of his childhood family now gone and buried, Peter had lost any direct ties with his people back in Arizona, aside from some distant relations he could barely name. A few had come forward when news of his mother's discovery first broke. Some even attended the service they'd held to bury her remains properly, mostly distant cousins on his mom's side, but that was it.

The last of his mother's siblings had passed away a few years back, and their children had been estranged from the Maza family even before Peter had left the reservation. Peter's father, Carlos, was well known to the community as a tribal police officer, which already caused some strain, but there was further fallout after Carmen, Peter's mother, had disappeared without explanation. On top of that, Carlos's brother, Joseph, had largely been a pariah in the community, and that was well before anyone had the slightest inkling he'd murdered his sister-in-law. There was just so much ugly history there, but leaving it all behind in 1960 and heading to New York had given Peter a new lease on life. A chance to shut the door on all of it and never look back.

If only life were ever that simple.

Given everything that had happened in May, and even the prior year in Flagstaff with Coyote the Trickster, it was like old wounds had been reopened. Peter felt an immense loss that stretched well beyond just that of his parents. He felt a disconnect from a part of himself, from his past. He'd lost a community he thought would always be there, even if he wasn't. His roots. He had desired reconnection with his community, but now that the last of his ties had been severed, he realized he yearned for them more than ever. He felt like a branch that had been hewn from the heartwood of the tree. Splintered and hollow.

"Speaking of family…" Maria said, awkwardly interrupting his silent introspection. "We need to talk about Elisa."

Peter's whole demeanor changed at the mention of his daughter. Thoughts about the past were sobering enough, but Maria had just raised the stakes. He leaned back in his seat and gave her a disappointed look.

"I should have known this wasn't just a social call," he said warily.

"Peter… we're old friends, you used to be my boss, but now I'm your daughter's boss. There's so much I love about that, about her, but I'm… concerned."

"About?" he said, arching a brow.

Maria looked across the table at him, her eyes sharp.

"Her boyfriend," she all but hissed.

"Boyfriend? You asked me to come into town on my day off to talk about who Elisa's dating?" Peter said annoyed, downplaying his reaction on the off chance Maria hadn't actually discovered the whole truth yet.

"Yes, because I know exactly who, or rather what, she'sdating," Maria snapped.

And there it was.

"I see," he said, and quickly swallowed the last of his drink.

"This is a problem, Peter."

"It doesn't have to be. Not unless you make it one," he replied, barely masking the edge in his tone.

Maria glared at him. She couldn't understand how he could be so cavalier about the threat this put them all under.

"It's affecting her performance at work, she's been sloppy and reckless."

"Elisa is often reckless, but she always gets results. That hasn't been a problem until now," Peter observed cooly.

"How could you allow this to happen?" Maria seethed. "Why didn't you say anything to stop her? She's potentially throwing her career away over him. Over them. She could be throwing my careeraway!"

"Maria, this is Elisa we're talking about here," Peter scoffed. "She doesn't do anything just because someone told her to, and she especially won't listen if she's told not to do something. And as a matter of fact, I did have words with her about this. Do you honestly think I wouldn't have had a thing or two to say about this particular decision of hers? She's my daughter, for Christ's sake."

He took a deep breath to calm himself before he continued.

"She's stubborn and tenacious, traits that make her a damn fine detective. Once she has her heart set on something, you'd have an easier time moving a mountain than steering her away."

Maria glowered down at her drink.

"I don't care what excuse you come up with, it wasn't enough. You should have done more. I would have, if she was mine."

"Your daughter is a toddler, and you are still the sun Sonia revolves around. What do you think I should have done? Grounded her?" Peter asked incredulously.

"I don't know," Maria said frustrated, "but if you don't do something, I may have to."

Peter looked at her, shocked as he realized what she was alluding to.

"You're not going to force her out over this, are you?" he demanded, stunned.

"She's in way over her head with this one, Peter."

"Believe me, I can sympathize. I wasn't… I wasn't thrilled when I found out about them, either. I was angry, and I didn't handle it well. Nearly cost me my relationship with Elisa. But nothing is worth that price," Peter said passionately. "Nothing."

Maria opened her mouth to say something, but a couple of other patrons who'd been playing pool had racked up again, and the sound of the cue ball loudly striking the billiard balls interrupted anything she would have said. She closed her mouth and looked pensively at him.

"Have you met him?" Peter asked once it was relatively quiet again, watching her closely.

"I have…" she admitted hesitantly. "And on the one hand, I can almost understand. He has a certain… nobility and charisma to him, I suppose," Maria mused. "I—I wasn't really prepared for it, if I'm being honest. His demeanor, I mean. And his eloquence."

Peter nodded in silent agreement. He knew the feeling all too well.

Maria swirled her glass, gazing at her distorted reflection in the amber liquid as she contemplated her next words.

"If her relationship is exposed, she will lose her job, and it won't just affect her. But if I cut her loose now, it won't blow back on me like it would if I wait for the shit to really hit the fan. And Peter, mark my words, that day is coming," she said angrily.

"I've pegged you as many things, Maria, but a coward was not one of them," Peter said in a scolding tone. "You don't know for certain which way the wind will blow on this."

"This could affect you, and probably Diane, too," she pointed out.

"I'm aware," Peter said a little uncomfortably. "But don't go inviting trouble unnecessarily."

"You of all people should know that nothing stays buried forever," Maria snapped, instantly regretting the callousness of her word choice under the circumstances, yet refusing to back down all the same. She knew she was picking at a sore wound.

Peter narrowed his eyes in response, but Maria carried on without apology.

"I want to protect Elisa. Nurture her. She has so much potential, Peter, and she has years ahead of her in her career. Years to do some really good work, to make changes at the NYPD that are desperately needed. But this? This will destroy any hope of that. This will destroy her, and I can't protect her from the consequences. The only thing I can do is protect myself, so I don't go down with the fucking ship."

Peter bowed his head and shook it slowly before he looked up at her again.

"You put too many unfair expectations on her. She's special, without a doubt, but she isn't going to single-handedly save the NYPD from itself," Peter threw back. "And you also grossly misjudge her and her priorities. I know where Elisa would side on this, on anything that involves her… friends. She's not going to put her career before their livesand their safety. And certainly not before her own heart."

Fire burned in Peter's eyes as leaned in, lowering his voice to a low growl.

"If that ever gets through your head, and you still decide to throw her under the bus to save your own hide, I have faith that my daughter will bounce back from it, but you… you will have to live with the knowledge that you sacrificed her for your own selfish interests. And I'll never forgive you for that."

Peter stood abruptly, opened his wallet, and tossed a few bills down onto the table.

"Thanks for the drink," he said acerbically, then he turned on his heel and walked out of the bar without so much as a backwards glance.

Maria gripped her glass so hard her fingers squeaked against the smooth surface as she watched her former mentor disappear from view.

"Mierda," she cursed under her breath. That went about as badly as it could have. She had tried to look at this from every angle, hoping to appeal to Peter, to Elisa… to anyone still willing to use some goddamn common sense. But she was up against brick walls in every direction.

It seemed no matter what she chose to do, she was fucked.