by Aiden Bates
Nick didn't know what to do, so he just moved behind Ryan and wrapped him up in his arms. "We work the case," he said. "It's an example, if nothing else. It shows that no matter how much time passes, we'll hunt people like that down and give them what's coming to them. Right?"
Ryan leaned into his embrace for a moment. "Right." Then he straightened up. "So given that we've got O'Neal here, and that he's spooked, do we just go ahead and interview him? I mean, his lawyer's going to be right here, and there's no way he'd talk to us without the guy. He's too smart; he's been hiding this, successfully, for forty years."
"True." He sighed. "Yeah. Let's do it, then. I'll have him moved to an interrogation room and have someone call us once his lawyer's here." He made the calls he needed to, and they settled back to wait and see what happened.
"So," Ryan said after a moment. "I'm guessing that you don't really mind if people know." He gestured between them. "Given that you're holding my hand and all."
Nick froze, and then he laughed at himself. "I honestly hadn't thought about it either way." Then he squeezed his beloved's hand. "I mean, I'm not getting us matching I'm With Him ties or rainbow bulletproof vests or anything like that, but I'm sure as hell not going to object to anyone knowing that I'm in a relationship with the most amazing omega on the force."
Ryan ducked his head and blushed. "Thanks," he said after a moment. "We hadn't talked about that. You know, whether to keep it private or not."
"Ryan, I don't know what the future holds, but I care about you. It's hard to make a relationship work if you're constantly trying to pretend that you're not in a relationship, you know?" Nick kissed him on the cheek.
One of Ryan's coworkers, a middle-aged woman in a purple pantsuit, threw a paper clip at them. "Hey, Tran! I just broke up with my boyfriend. If you two don't quit being so repulsively cute you're going to owe me a week's supply of Ben & Jerry's and probably a whole pile of insulin too."
Ryan flipped her off, but with a grin. "Own your own behavior, Shelly. We're working on that, remember?" A few other people chuckled.
O'Neal's lawyer showed up an hour later. He was another product of South Boston, a middle-aged man with a paunch and a permanent smell of cigars. Nick had almost thought that he might be an alpha, but closer examination proved that was not the case. There was no underlying scent of domination, or of enticement to indicate an omega gene. No, the fine coating of ash on the right side of the guy's jacket meant that he just chain-smoked cigars.
Bad odor aside, he took his seat beside O'Neal with the utmost professionalism. "You have no right to hold my client," he said. "We'll be leaving now."
"Actually you won't." Nick cleared his throat. "He hasn't even had a bail hearing yet. Mr. O'Neal is, in fact, under arrest, for the very serious crime of assault on a police officer. He attacked Detective Tran while Detective Tran was performing his duties, and after asking for him by name. He did this in front of multiple witnesses, both civilian and law enforcement. He's in a world of trouble." He glared at O'Neal, whose chains rattled as he flipped Tran off. "We get to hold him for at least twenty-four hours. Now, since we have him here, and we've got you here, we'd like to give Mr. O'Neal the opportunity to speak with us about the investigation into his sister's death."
"She's dead." O'Neal's lip curled. "What else is there to investigate? She's dead, end of story."
"So you're not interested in finding her killers?" Tran leaned back in his chair and folded his hands together. "Not at all?"
O'Neal shrugged, eyes looking at the wall behind Nick and Ryan. "Is it going to bring her back?" He waited half a second. "Then no. Obviously they weren't out there killing a bunch of Southie girls, just her. And the way she carried on, I can't say I'm surprised, you know?" He took a deep breath, still looking at that spot on the wall. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved my sister, but she went against everything that people in that neighborhood stood for. It was just a matter of time before someone decided to show her what her place was."
Nick bit down on the inside of his cheek. The way O'Neal talked about Maureen made his blood run cold.
The attorney looked at O'Neal. "As your lawyer, Will, I'd advise you to stop talking now."
Will snorted. "They could go to anyone from the old neighborhood, if they could find them now, and ask them the same question. They'd get the same answer. She had her good points, but she didn't have the same values as other neighborhood people. Or any values, if we're being honest."
"I'd advise against that too," the lawyer muttered.
Ryan gave him a sympathetic smile. "How would you describe your relationship with your sister, Mr. O'Neal?" Ryan leaned forward again. "Would you say that you were close?"
"Nah. I had my own friends, and I didn't think much of hers. They were a bunch of people from outside, you know? South End, Dorchester, Roxbury, Mattapan. I'm not sure why people she'd known all her life weren't good enough for her, but that's how it was." O'Neal sneered at Ryan. "I'm sure you know exactly what it was like, don't you? Nothing was ever good enough for her. She was always reaching for more."
"Mm." Ryan let his eyes rove over O'Neal. "Had she told you anything about a pregnancy before her death?"
O'Neal's eyes bulged. "What the hell are you talking about? My sister wasn't pregnant, okay? Sure, she was seeing that guy, but she never let him touch her. She knew enough to wait for marriage. She did. And she never would've married that n—that jackass." He shook his head. "The family would never have allowed it."
The lawyer buried his face in his hands. "Oh my God, Will, please stop talking."
"Okay. That clears up one mystery from the list." Nick smiled brightly. "Why did you decide to enlist so suddenly at the end of 1976?"
"It was the bicentennial. I was gripped by a sudden patriotic urge." He shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't doing anything with myself, you know? And it was a weird time for America. It just seemed like the right thing to do."
Ryan and Nick stood up. "Okay. Well, you'll be hanging out until your bail hearing, but thank you for taking the time to speak with us."
The lawyer followed them out of the room. "I strongly advised my client not to answer those questions."
"You did." Nick shrugged. "He answered them anyway. Not your fault."
"Why did you keep asking them?" The older man scowled. "You should have stopped asking them!"
"He was perfectly competent to make that decision for himself, buddy." Nick shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, I understand your frustration. I'd drop him like a rock, if I were you. But there's not a lot else that you can do. He has the right to ignore advice."
Ryan had to go back to his desk to work on research for his side of the case. Nick was reluctant to let his omega out of his sight, but at the same time he was happy to get back to his own unit. He could feel free to break down a little bit once he was there.
The whole unit was there when he got back, to include Lt. Devlin. "Can you explain to me why I'm getting complaints from Lt. Frisk about one of her detectives being assaulted on the job?" he asked, before Nick could even sit down.
Nick closed his eyes, counted to five, and explained what had happened. "I got out there as fast as I could," he said at the end, "but it was Ryan who sent for me, not the reception staff. So I couldn't get there in time no matter how hard I tried."
Ozzy snickered. "Dude, you couldn't have gotten there in time because your boy took down the suspect with, like, one arm tied behind his back." He gave Nick a playful little shove. "Be honest. Ryan's kind of bad-ass."
Nick gave his friend a frosty glance. "Only kind of?"
The whole unit laughed out loud. "Okay, okay, you win. Your pretty boy kicks ass," Ozzy confessed. "That was totally hot."
"Harrumph." Nenci crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, so he did one thing well. That doesn't make him a cold case detective."
"Nope." Devlin pointed at Nenci. "It does prove that he's a damn good cop who knows how to read a situation well. He deserves your respec
t, Nenci." He glanced around at the rest of them. "He deserves all of our respect."
They nodded, sobering up for a moment.
Then Devlin grinned. "And he deserves a beer, from all of us. Nick, ask him if he'll come out with us tonight in celebration of diffusing that situation."
Nick obeyed. That wasn't how he'd planned to spend the evening, if he were being honest, but he didn't complain. After all, it would be good for Ryan to get along better with the guys, especially if they were going to make a long-term go of this.
Ryan agreed, although when he met up with them he gave Nick a little squeeze. Nick noticed that Ryan was definitely pacing himself when it came to the drinks, too. They had a good time, and celebrated, but they didn't overdo it.
Afterward, they did go back to Ryan's place. Nick stayed the night, and this time he'd even brought a change of clothing so he didn't have to rush out the next morning or risk being late. "Tomorrow I think we should go visit the ex-wife," he suggested.
Ryan considered. "Yeah, I'm thinking you're right. I kind of feel like the timetable just got sped up, and I'm not sure why I feel that way but I'm nervous about it."
"Me too." Nick wrapped Ryan up in his arms. "I think Leanne deserves to know that her ex just got bailed out of jail and might be pissed, though. Don't you?"
"Yeah, we should get on that. In the morning," Ryan told him and pulled him in for a kiss."
Chapter Nine
It hardly felt like only Tuesday when Ryan and Nick headed out from Framingham to the Dorchester early childhood center where Leanne O'Neal worked. After everything that had happened yesterday, Ryan kind of felt like the previous day had taken a full week out of him. He had his alpha by his side, though, and that was going to have to be enough to get him through.
The drive should have taken only half an hour. Instead it took forty-five minutes, thanks to a knot of completely inexplicable traffic near Newton Corner. Ryan hadn't heard of anyplace else where traffic just happened, for no good reason, but it was a staple of eastern Massachusetts’ life and had been ever since the automobile was introduced.
The early childhood center was part of a bigger complex run by the Archdiocese, housed in a large brick building that was attached to a run-down looking church that had an impressive Mass schedule on its signboard. The two detectives walked in and were stopped by a receptionist, who insisted that they show their badges, write down their badge numbers, and state the reason for their visit before she would even call back to ask Leanne to come up. "We've got a few clients and employees who feel very uncomfortable at the presence of police," she explained. "The Center is supposed to be a safe space."
Nick bristled at that, but Ryan put a hand on his arm. "It's okay, man. They've got to do what's right for them. We're not here to bust addicts or check anyone's immigration status or anything like that, just to solve a cold case, so let's prove it by letting them do their thing their way."
Nick relaxed a little bit, although his mouth tightened a little, and they sat down in a couple of chairs that had probably been new back when the brickwork on the church had first been laid to wait. A little knot formed in Ryan's gut. Was Nick seriously getting bent out of shape about accommodating the agency's procedures? Okay, so they weren't all that cop-friendly. With everything that had been happening in the news lately, and the clientele that the center served, could he really blame them?
He couldn't say anything, not here and not now. They needed to present a united front, and he didn't need to be bringing up their relationship challenges in the middle of a witness interview. Instead, he let his leg brush up against Nick's and stay there. It seemed to be enough, at least for now.
Leanne O'Neal walked into the reception area after ten minutes. She wasn't anything like what Ryan had expected. She stood as tall as he did, with long, curly gray hair and a strong, solid build. Her small, hazel eyes were hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses, and she wore a Center tee shirt over a white turtleneck. "You must be the two detectives I heard about," she said, offering her hand. "I'm Leanne."
"I'm Ryan, this is Nick." Ryan made the snap decision to use their given names because of the stated discomfort with police. "Is there maybe someplace a little more private we can go to chat? We have to ask you some questions about your family, and some of them might be a little uncomfortable. We'd rather not make life any more difficult for you than we have to."
Leanne smirked, just a little bit. "I appreciate that. I do." She turned to the receptionist. "Hey, Shauna, are any of the conference rooms open?"
Shauna checked the computer. "Um, it looks like we've got the Green Room."
"Great. I'll take them in there until someone kicks us out." She led them into the building and into a small, sparse green conference room. "I suppose that I can guess why you boys came out here. I could wish you'd come to my house, though. I won't lie; it's a little bit challenging to grab a second teacher for the toddler room at the last minute."
Ryan winced. "I apologize, ma'am. It wasn't our plan to come out here today. We had a little, uh, visit from your ex-husband yesterday. The encounter turned violent, and we wanted to make sure that you got fair warning before he got bailed out and came looking for someone to take it out on."
She paled, but otherwise held it together. "God damn it, Will." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "He came out there to visit you, but then he lost his temper and took a swing. Is that more or less what happened?"
"That's exactly what went down," Nick told her. "To a T, in fact."
"I wouldn't say that." Ryan reached under the table and grabbed his boyfriend's hand. "He asked for me by name, instead of for the two detectives that went to speak to Katherine."
"Of course he did." She snorted. "Yeah, no. He thought that he could bully you into submission, because he's got a real negative view of Asian people. I'd say he picked it up while he was in the service, but we both know I'd be lying." She toyed with the hem on the sleeve of her turtleneck. "That man, I'm telling you. Sometimes I wonder what I ever saw in him."
Nick cleared his throat. "You two were high school sweethearts, right?"
"Yeah." She looked down. "We both went to South Boston High, until things got ugly. His parents pulled him out and made him get his GED. His sister and I wound up going to Cathedral. It was okay. I mean, it was high school, you know?" She sighed and hung her head. "That was a long time ago."
"I'm very sorry to have to dredge all of this up for you." Ryan looked down. "You were a neighbor of his, too, right?"
"Yeah. I mean, we lived down the street from one another back in Southie. It was kind of a rough place to be sometimes, you know? But we got through it. We always got through it." She shifted position and hunched her shoulders in on herself. "But you're not here to hear about how hard I struggled in Algebra II. You want to hear about Maureen."
Nick chuckled. "Well, Algebra II is hard for everyone, I think. Maureen seems to have had a rougher time of it than most."
Leanne's face fell, and for a second Ryan thought she might cry. "Look, she wasn't a bad kid. She was different from the rest of us, okay? More liberal, I guess. Most of us weren't exactly racist either, though. We were just poor."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Poor?"
"Well, yeah. Right now, everything down there's gentrifying. The row houses that you had to burn down to make money off of as little as twenty years ago, now they're going for a million dollars or more. It's bizarre. But back then, we were poor. We were white, but we were poor, and our jobs were just starting to disappear, you know? That was the start of the gas crisis, and the recession and everything. It was a scary time, but the one thing that we had was our schools.
"We knew, of course, that black people didn't have the same kind of schools that we did. And we knew that it wasn't fair. We wanted their schools to have the same kind of quality that ours did, in a kind of abstract way, but that wasn't what happened. That was never what was going to happen, and we knew it." She shook her head, and then she laid
her shaking hands on the table.
"It's like, okay. We were losing everything else. We were losing our jobs, we were losing our way of life, and some of us were losing our homes. Our kids, though, were going to have a fighting chance because our schools were the best in the country. But some rich son of a bitch who lived in Wellesley, whose kids were never going to lose out because of this, was going to take this away from us too? That's what people were mad about." Leanne hung her head.
"I mean, yeah. Race played a role, for a lot of us. I'm not going to pretend that it didn't. It absolutely played a role for the O'Neals, you know what I'm saying? But for a lot of us, it was all about something being taken away from us. And you've got to remember that this was only a handful of years after the riots at the welfare office in Roxbury. Even though it was white people that started the violence this time, people were scared. People were scared, and there was no way that the government could have handled the situation worse."