by Aiden Bates
Nick shook his head. The whole family were nothing but mercenary. It was hard to understand where Katherine had gotten her good soul.
They didn't need the son as a way to get at the father, anyway. The only reason to talk to him would be because talking to his children seemed to infuriate Will beyond measure. If they could get to Steven, they wouldn't need Joe. They would probably even get a confession.
He outlined his ideas to Ryan. "I want to go shake Steven's tree a little," he told his partner. "I don't think that Steven was the mastermind behind this. He was thirteen years old when this was done, and everyone tells us that he follows Big Brother without a lot of filter between his orders and his hands."
Ryan nodded, but slowly. "I mean, he does have responsibility for his own actions. There's no indication in his academic record of any kind of diminished capacity, so he bears responsibility for his own actions. He needs to pay for his role in the murder of James Townsend."
Nick put a hand on Ryan's paperwork. "But not Maureen's?"
Ryan sighed. "That bat was cracked by the force with which it hit that girl's head. A thirteen-year-old boy, especially with the size that Steven O'Neal showed at that point, would not have been physically capable of swinging the bat that hard. He just wouldn't."
Nick bit the inside of his cheek. "Okay," he said after a moment's soul searching. "Okay. But what are the odds that he wasn't there?"
"Zip." Ryan cracked his knuckles. "Why did Will give the bat to Leanne?"
"He told her to get rid of it." Nick scratched his head. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"It's actually a fairly normal abuser tactic. It would have been a hundred times safer for Will to get rid of the damn bat himself. In the end, that bat will damn him. Instead, he held onto it and gave it to his girlfriend, and then he gave her an order. He ordered her to dispose of the evidence, making her complicit in his crime. Under most circumstances, coming forward implicates her. She can't leave, and she can't out him either."
Nick's eyes widened. "Holy crap. You're right." He nudged his omega's shoulder. "That's why they put you on this case, isn't it?"
"Probably part of the reason." Ryan grinned. "So. If he did that to his woman, who by the way had a relationship with Maureen, is it likely that he left baby brother, who was very close with Maureen, out of his bludgeoning?"
"No." Nick's voice was barely a hoarse whisper. "He's going to do everything in his power to make Steven complicit, because he's got the most to lose from Steven ratting him out."
"Bingo. My guess—my hope—is that if we go in with the right tone, we'll be able to get Steven to flip. We have to be nice, and conciliatory. We can't be judgmental, but we can do this."
Nick didn't know if he could pull off "nonjudgmental" when the guy had participated in the bludgeoning death of his own sister, but he guessed he'd give it a shot.
Chapter Twelve
Ryan and Nick decided to head down into South Boston to speak to Steven on Tuesday. They went in armed with an arrest warrant, based on Leanne's story and the use of both the pipe and the baseball bat. It was possible, Ryan supposed, that James had been beaten unconscious with one weapon, and then killed with the other. That seemed like a far too complicated explanation for something that two teenagers might come up with, though.
"I'm a little nervous," he admitted, as they sped down the Pike toward South Boston. "I mean Steven isn't our primary target. He was just a kid. He's got to know that we're coming for him eventually, but from all reports he's just been going about his day doing his thing."
Nick's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "You think this might be a trap?"
Ryan sighed and stared out the window. They weren't the only state troopers heading out. The force was taking the potential threat in this situation very seriously. Boston Police would be there too, because they knew that Will O'Neal was a threat and because one of the arresting troopers was family.
Yikes. There was that word again.
His hand moved to his belly. The pregnancy still didn't seem real. He still hadn't had a moment of sickness. Nothing hurt. He hadn't experienced any cravings of any kind, and if he was hornier than usual that was easily attributed to the fact that he had no reason to fight it anymore. He'd seen the test results, and he had to trust Nick's nose, but he still had trouble believing. Maybe the whole thing would go away, just fade into the ether from which it felt like it was made.
Supposing that the pregnancy did turn out to be a phantom—he'd heard of those—how would he feel then? How would he react? Nick was so happy about it, but Ryan couldn't bring himself to believe that he'd still be happy once reality set in. They hadn't known one another all that long. They didn't live together. They hadn't even discussed living together, for crying out loud.
"You okay, babe?" Nick stroked his hand. "A little bit of morning sickness?"
"I'm fine." Ryan forced a grin.
"I'm a little nervous, myself." Nick swallowed, hard. Ryan watched his throat work. "I don't like taking you into a situation like this. Anything could go wrong. I mean, I'm worried about the baby, of course, but you're my omega. I'm scared for you, you know?"
Ryan closed his eyes for a second. Was this overbearing or sweet? He decided it was sweet. Nick wasn't trying to stop him from doing anything, he was just expressing himself. Ryan was just unaccustomed to anyone fussing over him, or being any more concerned about his safety than they would be about any other cop. And, if he thought about it, the fact that Nick prioritized Ryan's safety was touching. A lot of alphas would prioritize the baby. "I'll be fine, Nick." He turned in his seat to face his lover. "I've got a vest, just like always. It still fits." He chuckled.
"I know. But I'm an alpha. I'm your alpha. I'm always going to be kind of nervous about you going into a dangerous situation." Nick gave a rueful smile and shook his head. "It kind of goes along with the gene, I think."
Ryan forced himself to keep his temper steady. It wasn't easy, but he made an extra effort just because it was Nick. He was worth it. "I know it does. And back when we were all living in caves and eating saber-toothed tigers, that was probably a really useful instinct. Now that we're able to live in cities and buy our food in the grocery stores, and not eat giant cats because that's just nasty, I think that it's okay to find different ways to express those urges." He patted Nick's thigh. "Although I do appreciate that you want to protect me. It's nice. It's not something I'm used to."
Nick had tensed up when Ryan had started to speak, but now he laughed. "Well, get used to it. It's not going to go away. And yeah, I'm trying to find more socially acceptable ways of keeping you safe than hiding you away in a tree and bashing everyone who looks at you funny with a rock."
"That could get awkward." Ryan kept a straight face. "I'm a cop. Everyone looks at me funny."
"Right? But think of the arm muscles. And the back muscles. I'd be the most stacked alpha in Boston!"
"You're incorrigible. And when would you have time to make love to me, with all this rock-bashing going on?" Ryan smirked and leaned back against the window.
"Hmm. I guess my plan needs a little bit more work, then."
They pulled up in front of O’Neal & Sons and double-parked out front. Ryan felt bad about that. He hated double parkers, but in this case it was necessary. It looked like the street was wide enough that a fire truck could still get down it, anyway, and that was the important thing. Ryan could see other units at various places down the block, although no one had their lights on. They wanted to do this as painlessly as possible.
Ryan and Nick entered the shop cautiously, but without fanfare. Two men stood before them. One was younger, maybe in his early thirties. There was no way that he could be anyone but Will O'Neal's son; he looked just like him, in every way but age. Even the beer gut was the same. The other man was probably in his mid-fifties. He was tall and heavy-set, with an almost swollen face. He reeked of cigarettes, even across the counter.
Joe O'Neal looked th
em up and down. He didn't look impressed. Ryan got a longer, harder look than Nick did. "You guys can't park there. The cops around here are downright vicious."
They pulled out their badges at the same time. "It's okay, Joe." Nick gave a thin, professional-looking smile. "We won't be staying."
Steven hung his head. Ryan wanted to reach out and reassure the man just then, but there wasn't any reassurance for him. He knew what he'd done, and everything was coming home to roost.
Joe, too, seemed to know what was going on. His scowl deepened, and he didn't ask why they were there. That didn't stop him from getting red in the face or shouting. "You have no right to come in here, and disrupt a private business, and take a citizen away like this! This is America!"
"And murder has been illegal in America since the beginning, Joe." Ryan sighed and turned to Steven. "I'm sorry, Steven, but I have to place you under arrest now. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say can and will be used against you—"
"Just shut up! My dad's going to break your face when he hears about this!" Joe slammed his hands on the counter and leaned forward. He probably wasn't going to jump. At least Ryan didn't think that Joe would hurdle the counter and try to take a swing at one of them. He'd been wrong before, of course.
Nick wasn't willing to take the chance. He pulled out his gun and aimed it right between Joe's narrowed eyes. "Hands in the air!" he barked. His face became a cold mask as he stared the younger O'Neal down.
Steven moved slowly around the counter and held his hands out in front of himself. "It's okay, Joe," he said, as Ryan put the handcuffs on him. "I've known this was coming for forty years." Two giant tears ran down his cheeks. "I want you to go home and call your mom, okay? You call your mom and you tell her you're sorry. She's a good woman, and she don't deserve what your daddy put her through. You stand by her, and you support her and keep her safe right now. Because he's going to kill her."
Joe snarled at him, and Ryan pulled him outside. They patted him down outside the car and read him his rights, then eased him into the car. The arrest had been relatively painless, but something still didn't sit right with Ryan and it wasn't just the stink of cigarettes in the back seat. "Sorry about doing the pat down and everything in full view of the neighborhood," Ryan said as they prepared to head back up to Framingham. "We'd hoped to do it in the shop, give you a little bit more privacy, but we needed to get out of there."
"It's okay." Steven hung his head and kept his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not like I'm ever going to be going back there, am I?"
Steven's despondent tone increased the volume on those alarms in the back of Ryan's head. "You never know," Ryan told him. "Your lawyer could get you off, and it's not like you're likely to get a lot of jail time even if you're convicted. I mean, you were all of thirteen when the crime was committed. There's precedent for you serving your time as a juvenile. Remember the Skakel case?"
Nick nudged him. "Dude, what are you doing? This isn't some sweetheart stand-your-ground mother. This is a cold-blooded killer."
Steven let out a sob, and Ryan gave his alpha a confused look. Was there something wrong with offering a little bit of comfort? As far as he could see, Steven O'Neal was a victim too. He wasn't as much of a victim as Maureen, but Will had sucked him into the crime when he'd been too young to truly resist. "Hey. Are you using the same lawyer as your brother?" he asked.
"I guess." O'Neal squirmed in the back seat.
"Really?" Nick asked, in a voice thick with disgust.
"Really. Might as well get it all out of the way. Everything needs to be air tight." Ryan pulled out his phone and called Will O'Neal's lawyer.
To say that the lawyer was surprised to hear from Ryan was an understatement, but he agreed to come out to Framingham and represent the younger brother. He asked that they not question Steven until he arrived, which Ryan was grateful for. He didn't want to fight with Nick about it, especially not in front of Steven himself.
They got to Framingham, and Steven was booked and processed before being brought into an interrogation room. That gave Nick and Ryan some time to prepare for the interview, which already sent adrenaline running through Ryan's body. He shouldn't be feeling this way about a talk with his mate, damn it. They should be celebrating, not gearing up to fight with one another.
They snagged a conference room in Abused Persons, since everything in Cold Case was occupied. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Nick turned to Ryan and threw his arms up into the air. "Dude! What the hell was that?"
"What the hell was what?" Ryan shot back. He stayed on his feet, ready to fight back or flee at the slightest provocation. He shouldn't be this edgy around Nick. Nick was a good guy; he wasn't someone to be afraid of. Why the hell was Ryan so wound up?
"What was with all of that touchy-feely, it's-not-so bad crap? Are you serious right now? The guy bludgeoned a kid to death and helped murder his own sister, and you're telling him that it wasn't that bad?" Nick grabbed his own hair and tugged. "Are you a cop or a defense lawyer, Ryan?"
There was a part of Ryan that wanted to fold. That was the part of him that was already Nick's omega, the part that needed to be petted and accepted by his alpha. It wasn't a small part, either. He'd angered Alpha, and the need to atone was real.
He'd told Nick on the car ride down to Southie that they weren't living in trees and caves anymore, and that they needed to control those instincts now. That rule applied to omegas too, and he reminded himself of that as he pulled himself up to his full height. "That's a really low statement, Nick. You know goddamn well whose side I'm on. And you know goddamn well that this guy was just a kid when those crimes took place. You know damn well that there is, in fact, a legal precedent for adults serving juvenile time decades after the fact. And you know damn well that Steven O'Neal is exactly the kind of offender that those laws were written for!"
"He killed a man!" Nick roared, pointing at the door.
It took everything in Ryan not to flinch. "Yes," he said, standing firm and setting his jaw. "And he's going to pay for what he did. But the price he pays will be proportionate to his responsibility. We're supposed to be about justice, Nick. Not revenge. We'll hear what he has to say. It's entirely possible that he's the one who made all of the decisions and everyone who knew anyone involved has been played for a fool this whole time, but my bet is that he got led in by his brother.
"It's the brother that we really want here. Look at the facts, Nick. We've got a thirteen-year-old kid who was, by all reports, dominated by his brother and his father, and was in a family situation where it sounds like they scapegoated the sister for a lot of things. And we've got an older brother who, from what it sounds like, ruled and still rules with an iron fist. A brother who we've seen just in the past week is not afraid to use violence to enforce his rules and his decisions."
"So you're willing to just write off his decisions?" Nick leaned on the back of a chair, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. "Is that it?"
"At no point did I even hint at that." Ryan clenched his hands into fists, but then relaxed them. Escalating this fight wasn't going to change anything. "I think that we have to be realistic about the kind of responsibility that he had. Which was not on the same scale as the guy calling the shots, and I think it's okay to empathize with him just a little."
Nick's lip curled in disgust. "I don't get that. I just don't get that. But whatever. Just… whatever. Let's go, they're probably ready for us by now."
Ryan stalked out of the room, aware of his alpha's angry presence behind him. His stomach threatened to rebel, and it had nothing to do with the baby. If they couldn't even get along over something so abstract as a suspect, who was already in custody and who was going to jail anyway, how could they manage to raise a child together? Would they ever be able to live together?
He had made a horrible mistake, and he knew it. Would he be able to live with it?
***
Nick wore his resentment like a
cloak as he walked into the interrogation room. He needed to find some way of reining that in and keeping himself calm. He loved Ryan, he did, but seriously. What the hell? How could a man with such a beautiful soul seriously sit there and empathize with a guy who'd killed his own kin? Who'd taken a blunt instrument and bashed another teen to death, for no other reason than the color of his skin?
Had Ryan's beautiful body and spirited personality somehow concealed a corrupted soul?
He couldn't let himself think like that. Ryan was a good man. Maybe he was too good to be a good cop, or at least a good detective, but he was a good man. Nick had been a cop for a long time, and he'd grown up in the field. He wouldn't have let his heart deceive his common sense like that.