by Aiden Bates
Gagne snorted. "Please. Those women won't even be missed." He shifted in his seat. "None of them are, really."
Slonim covered his eyes. "As your attorney, I am formally advising you to stop talking."
"I think they are missed, Gagne." Ray folded his hands together on top of the table. "I mean we're here, talking to you, about looking for their killer."
"And all of their families are better off. Didn't I see on the news that the lesbian's children have been put into foster care? That's the best possible fate for them, to be honest. Children need a strong hand. The boys need to be among men, who can teach them how to be men. The girl needs to be shown her place. The girl was… mouthy." His nose twitched. "They're all better off where they are."
"And Eva Butler's kids?" Nenci raised an eyebrow. "Are they better off?"
"Certainly." Gagne's chains clanked together as he folded his own hands upon the table, a direct mirroring of Ray's posture. "They've grown up free from that termagant's insufferable attitude. Every one of those women was a vile example of her sex. They're burning in hell right now, but at least they're not polluting the living with their vile ways."
Ray sat back. "And what about Emiliana Morrison?"
Gagne gave a low, dirty chuckle. "You're not going to trip me up that easily, Detective." He wiggled in his seat, like a cat about to pounce. "In this case, there's no 'catching' to do. I did not kill Emiliana Morrison. She's not the type of woman that usually arouses my interest."
Ray and Nenci exchanged glances while Slonim slumped down and banged his head on the table. "You both heard me tell him to stop talking, right?"
"You're off the hook, man," Ray told the lawyer. He was only half paying attention. "What do you mean that Emiliana wasn't the type of woman that usually floats your boat?"
Gagne snorted. "Well, I never met the lady, but once I heard about her story I did my research. I mean I'm not stupid." He shook his head. "I had occasion to ask Father D'Cruze about Mrs. Morrison, and the poor old boy was so very mournful when it came to her. She was trapped in a marriage to an unsuitable man, which was tragic, but that didn't make her one of my 'special' women. That didn't mean that I needed to remove her from the population, for the population's safety. She knew her place, and she was very willing to be guided by a man."
"The priest," Nenci murmured.
"The priest. Emiliana was very obedient to that priest." Gagne grinned, wicked and lascivious. "You wouldn't believe how obedient. And he took good care of his little pet, too. But of course, there was the husband. That sad sack of a husband, devoted to a child that should never have been born in the first place."
Ray's mouth went dry. "You know nothing about Doug."
"I know that Doug Morrison's very existence broke his mother's heart. Once that test came back, he was dead in her eyes. And that priest knew. Oh, he knew all right."
Ray pushed his tongue against his teeth. "Were you involved with the Order of Lot?"
"No." Gagne snorted. "I have about as much interest in what people do with their bits as I do in horse racing, which is to say none. I disapprove of lesbians, because women need a strong male hand to guide them." He waved a hand. "I don't care about alphas or omegas. I don't care about gay or bisexual betas. But the priest needed a sympathetic ear, and I needed information.
"Emiliana's remains had been disposed of in a way that was so close to the way that I like to get rid of mine that it seemed like a golden opportunity. In the unlikely event that I got caught for anything that I did, someone else would foot the bill and I would still be free to rid the world of feminine filth. After all," he added, staring pointedly at Ray, "it wasn't as if I was setting up an innocent."
Ray couldn't speak. It was left to Nenci to stand up and say, "I don't suppose that you would sign a confession to that effect?"
Gagne yawned. "I suppose. Draw one up and send it by, would you?"
"Dan!" Slonim snapped.
"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist." Gagne held up his chains. "Or did you forget that they found heads in my house?"
Ray followed Nenci out of the interview room. They signed out of the jail in silence and fled out to the car. "You want to tell me what's got you all tongue-tied?" Nenci asked him.
"The simplest answer is almost always the right one." Ray shook his head. "God damn it. I believed. I did."
"You lost me."
"Gagne's right. He wasn't here in 1998. The only reason that he moved to Lakeville was because of Emiliana's murder. It gave him a cover. How am I supposed to tell Doug?"
Nenci glared. "Earth to Langer?"
Ray turned to face him. "There's only one person who could have killed Emiliana Morrison. And that person is Larry Morrison."
Chapter Fourteen
Doug sat down on the chaise part of the sectional and lay back. He felt ridiculous as he folded his hands on top of his stomach. Somewhere, deep inside of him, was his baby. This process wasn't just for himself, himself and his quest to free his father. This was about family, about always standing up for family. His child would look and know that his father would do anything for him, because he'd shown it for his own father.
"You don't have to do this, Doug." Ray covered him with an afghan that he'd brought with him into the new house. Doug didn't know where it had come from; maybe he'd brought it in from that weird commune where he'd grown up. Whatever; it was warm and comfortable. "We'll figure something else out. We'll get the priest on the witness stand."
Doug made a face. "Father D'Cruze is a maggot. Let's not. Besides, they're my memories, right? I should be able to access them." He settled himself. "I'm ready, Doctor."
Dr. Leung stepped forward. Detective Tran from Abused Persons had found him; apparently, he worked with the department all of the time. "Okay. Just relax, Doug. Close your eyes and relax. Try to focus on the sound of my voice."
Doug forced himself to focus. Part of his mind fought it, because this type of activity seemed ridiculous to him, but focus in general had always been a gift of his. It was what had allowed him to succeed, and to become as successful as he was. As he focused on Leung's voice, the rest of the room fell away. He was neither too warm nor too cold. He no longer felt the couch on which he lay. Instead, he felt almost like he was floating.
"Very good. Now Doug. I want you to be there, in your mind, on the night that your mother disappeared."
Doug could have chosen to ignore that voice. It wasn't some kind of spell or anything like that. He was feeling highly suggestible right now, though, and as soon as Leung gave the instruction Doug imagined he was back in his childhood bedroom. "My bedroom looks normal," he said. "I mean it's a little on the dark side. There's one light, from a lamp on the desk. My dad's sitting at the desk." Doug smiled. His dad had been larger than life then, an absolute superhero. He'd only left Doug's side to get him food or to use the bathroom. "He even sleeps in there. Not that he sleeps much."
"Why doesn't he sleep much, Doug?" Leung asked. "Does he seem agitated?"
"No. He seems scared." Doug swallowed. "My throat hurts."
Leung hummed. "Why does your throat hurt?"
"I don't know. I've been throwing up a lot lately. That's weird, because I've never been the kind of kid that throws up much but this time around I'm all over the place. Dad's right there, though. The whole time I've been sick. He's always got a bucket or something, because he's the best dad ever." Doug sighed happily. He could feel his father stroking through his hair and telling him to go ahead, let it all out.
"Where's your mother in all of this, Doug?" Leung's voice was just as calm as always.
"She's not around much. She's usually at church. She'll slip into the room if Dad's in the bathroom or making food or something, sometimes. She doesn't say much. Sometimes she'll whisper something. I can't quite make out what she's saying." Doug wrinkled his nose. "It's not important though. She doesn't love me; she loves the priest."
Someone in the background coughed. "Really?" Leung asked. "Are you sure about that?"<
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Doug nodded. "She told me once, after my test came back. She doesn't like that I'm an omega. She said she'd only had me because the priest said so. Dad loves me, but Mom says that he shouldn't." Doug tried to shrink into himself, so the grown-ups wouldn't look at quite so much of him. "Do you think she's right?"
"I think your father loves you very much, Doug. He's right there with you, right?"
Doug relaxed, another happy little smile on his face. "Yeah. He's just the best. I hope I can help him someday like he helps me. He never even yells at me for throwing up."
"That's a good father, Doug." Leung paused for a moment. "What happens now?"
"Well, I'm pretty dizzy. I don't feel good at all, but Dad has to get up. He says I have to drink fluids so I don't get sicker. I don't see why. I just throw them up again, but he's a smart guy. I do what he says." Doug paused. "He's getting up to go get some more water for me. And I'm kind of scared."
"Why are you scared, Doug?" Leung's voice sounded very close now.
Doug watched as the door opened, only seconds after his father had closed it. "Because my mom visits. She visits, and then sometimes I get sicker afterward."
His mother entered the room. "I'm confused. She's not trying to give me anything. Not a drink or a shot."
Lie down, Douglas. Mom hadn't used his name since the test came back. Even now, she didn't use the more informal version of his name. She was as formal as she could be. It's better this way. You'll see. At least this way you'll go to Heaven, maybe. You haven't had a chance to choose sin yet.
Leung's voice cut through Doug's panic. "What's she doing now, Doug?"
Doug swallowed. He knew that he was breathing too hard, which would just aggravate his bronchitis. He started to cough. "She put something down near the door. It sounded like metal, but there was wood too. I don't know. I'm confused. I'm dizzy, and now it's dark." He strained for breath. "I can't breathe. There's something on me, and I can't breathe."
"Skip this bit." Leung's voice had a little bit of tension to it, just enough to give him some crispness. Just like that, Mom and whatever it was were yanked away from him.
"They're fighting. Dad pulled her off of me and they're fighting." Doug gasped. Mom had really had that pillow over his face for a long time. "Mom's gotten away from him. She's got her hands around my neck now." Doug gagged, striving for oxygen as he choked.
Dad grabbed onto Mom and threw her across the room. She landed with a sickening crunch and didn't move. "I think she's dead."
"Why do you think that?" Leung asked.
Doug shrank in on himself again. "She's not moving. And her head's at a really strange angle." Tears leaked from his eyes. "This is my fault. Dad wouldn't have had to hurt her if I was a good boy. A normal boy."
"Did he tell you that, Doug?"
"No." Doug shook his head. "He's grabbing me, checking me over. He wants to see my neck. He wants to hear my breathing. He's crying. I'm crying. He looks over at her. And then he says, Go to sleep, Dougie. It was all a bad dream." Doug snuggled back down into his blanket, just like Dad told him to do.
"What happened next, Doug?" No emotion came through in Leung's voice.
"I wake up. My room doesn't look any different. Mom's gone. Dad says that they had a fight and she went out to clear her head." Doug shrugged. Dad didn't lie. "It was all a bad dream. I start to feel better that night, but I can't go back to school because of my neck."
Leung sighed. "Okay. I'm going to count backwards from ten. When you wake up you're going to be back in your living room, in the present day, with your alpha and me. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one."
Doug opened his eyes and sat up. For a moment, just a moment, he felt like he'd just woken up from a refreshing if decadent nap. Then it all came crashing down on him.
Ray caught him as he fell off the chaise and down onto the floor. "It's okay, Doug."
"It's not okay!" Doug screamed his words, as loud as he could. He didn't care who heard. "It's not okay! My mother tried to smother me! She tried to strangle me! On what planet is that okay?"
Ray pulled him in close. "That's not the part that's okay, Omega." He carded his fingers through Doug's hair. "The part that's okay is that she failed. Your father saved you, Doug. He saved your life. It sounds like he saved your life more than once."
Doug sobbed into his alpha's chest. "She hated me so much she wanted to murder me." He curled himself up as small as he could and grabbed onto Ray. "What kind of mother does that? Because of who I am? Something I had no control over!"
Ray helped Doug back up onto the couch, but he didn't back away this time. "She was wrong." He kissed Doug's hair. "It's that simple, love. She was wrong. She was wrong, and your father was right."
Leung cleared his throat. He didn't sit down on the couch, but stood behind the arm of the chaise. "I strongly suspect that Emiliana was drugging the boy. She would have been trying to overdose him, based on the symptoms he's describing, with barbiturates. That would be why your father wouldn't leave your room. He wouldn't have been able to prove it, but he wanted to guard you. That's why you survived, Doug."
Doug sobbed. He wasn't sure what to think. "But he's still in jail."
"He raised a son." Ray gave him a gentle little shake. "He raised the best damn lawyer that Massachusetts has ever seen. We're going to come up with the strategy to prove what you just said beyond a reasonable doubt." He rocked Doug back and forth a little bit more. "But tomorrow."
Leung did sit down now, albeit awkwardly. "Doug, you never had a chance to properly grieve, and sort through your feelings about these things. It's normal to be upset. It's normal to be angry and to lash out. Don't let anyone tell you that it isn't—to include yourself, okay?" He glanced over at Ray before putting a hand on Doug's back. "You have a whole team of people who are ready to support you, in whatever you decide to do going forward."
Doug swallowed and tried to pull himself together. "I can't think of why he would have told me that it was all a bad dream. I can't think of why he didn't… trust me, I guess, with the truth. But he was dealing with a ten-year-old, who was probably dealing with the effects of barbiturate poisoning." He sniffed. "He saved my life. I have to get him out. This isn't even about family anymore. This is beyond what any son owes any parent. This is a life debt, and I intend to pay it."
Ray patted his back. "I don't know that he would see it that way, but you've never met a challenge you haven't fought." He chuckled. "And you never will, will you? But for now, rest. This is a big blow."
Doug allowed himself to be maneuvered into a resting position, even though he felt anything but restful right now. "I tried to mourn her for years, you know."
"I can see why it would be hard." Leung sat back.
"I always thought that there was something wrong with me, you know? Something inherently broken inside of me, that wouldn't let me mourn for my own mother. Dad said it was okay. He said that I would mourn in my own way, when I could, but that we'd never been all that close so it was okay if I didn't grieve in some kind of big and ostentatious way." He shook his head. "You know, I never did think that it would be because of something like this."
"Surprise." Ray chuckled weakly. "Are you angry with him?"
"A little." Doug looked down. "I'm angry that he didn't tell me sooner so that we could have dealt with it. But that's not rational, is it?" He looked back up at the two men with him. "It's not rational, because he probably panicked. And it's not rational, because how is a ten-year-old going to help his father 'deal with' a dead body?" He shook his head. "It's not his fault, it's not my fault. It's her fault for trying to murder her child, that's a choice she made." He shuddered at that. "But in the end her death was an accident."
"And tomorrow we will sit down and try to come up with a way to prove that outcome. Okay? Tonight we'll wrap up and take care of you." Ray took Doug into his arms again and held him close for a moment.
When Leung decided to leave, Ray escorted him t
o the door. Doug stared at the picture window and tried to wrap his head around everything that he'd just learned.
He'd never believed that his father was a killer. He still didn't. Emiliana's death had been an accident, and he'd seen it with his own two eyes. What he needed to understand was how he felt about his mother.
He'd had time to come to terms with her rejection. She'd never made any attempt to soften the blow, after all, just lashed out in her hatred for anyone and everyone to see. It shouldn't have surprised him that a person could go from rejection to murder in that way. He saw murder every day in his line of work.
Still, it was hard to reconcile a woman who spent most of her waking hours on her knees before a cross with someone who drugged and tried to both smother and strangle her only child. The two images were incongruous. She would have been encouraged in her actions.