by Jessie G
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Yeah, but it ain’t a crime no more.”
“It is a crime…”
“No! The guy who did it? He’s already in jail for life or somethin’.”
Davin wanted to push for the information that would make sure the ‘guy’ never got out—which wasn’t a promise he could make—but he was worried that Hector would bolt. “You just wanted to tell someone.”
“Yeah, figured you being a cop and all, you’d be okay to listen.”
“I’m perfectly okay listening.”
“It happened a year ago in the locker room at school. Some kids were making fun of me after gym class because we’re poor and shit. Started pushin’ and knockin’ me ‘round, then they just laughed and walked away. I was just standing there hating life, ya know? The janitor walked in and saw that I was bleeding. He offered to get a rag and help me out.” Hector looked over finally, and whispered, “He really seemed concerned, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Hector was vulnerable and needed real help and then he was blindsided by his attacker. Sadly, he’d heard versions of that story too often to count. He was just glad Hector was here to tell his story.
Hector nodded and focused on the sidewalk. “I was just standin’ there cleaning my face with the rag he gave me and next thing he’s got my face bashed up against the lockers and yanking my pants down. It felt like forever and it hurt so bad, ya know, then he pushed me away and laughed.”
It wouldn’t take much to find information on a school janitor sentenced to life in prison and if he paid the guy a friendly visit, who would know? “I could sit here and tell you how sorry I am that happened, promise that someday it will get better, but you don’t want that from me, do you?”
“Man, I live in the real world. If I wanted someone to blow sunshine up my ass, I would have called one of them abuse hotlines.”
Pressing his lips together so he wouldn’t laugh, Davin continued with the direct approach. “Okay, how’s this? It fucking sucks, but it’s been a year, so I imagine you’re not hurting anymore. Physically?”
“No, that went away after about a few weeks.”
“What about testing for HIV or other STDs?”
“Shit, no I didn’t think about that.” Hector dropped his chin and grabbed the edge of his shirt, twisted the fabric until Davin was sure it would tear. “Is there someplace where they do it for free? We don’t have no insurance.”
“I’m sure we can find a place.”
“Yeah? That’d be good.” Hector looked up again. “How long before the dreams stop?”
“For me? It took a couple of years for the steady dreams to stop, but an especially bad case might trigger a nightmare. When that happens, I usually go for a run.” Davin shrugged when Hector grimaced. “I know it’s not for everyone, but I’ve always been a runner. It helps me refocus and the exercise helps me sleep.”
The kid nodded. “I don’t like people to touch me.”
“That one never seemed to go away for me completely.”
“But you got a guy?”
“I do, yes, and his touch doesn’t bother me. Eventually, you’ll find your tolerance. Start small and with people you trust. A hug from your mother, a handshake from a school friend…people you’ve known for a long time that have never hurt you. From there, I want you to always remember that you get to decide who gets the privilege and who doesn’t.”
“Does this…I mean…am I gay now?”
“Were you gay before?”
“No, I really liked girls.”
“Then I imagine you still like girls. Bet you notice them all the time, right?”
“Like all the time, man. Girls are the best. Especially the curvy ones. I like curves.”
“Gay men don’t notice those things.” The overgeneralization wasn’t fair, but Hector needed to know which side of the line he was on and telling him the line could move would only complicate the issue.
“Whew. I mean, not that it’s a problem. I’m cool with all that. I just needed to know I hadn’t changed.”
“You’re still you.”
“I’m still me.” There was a wealth of relief in that statement, as if hearing someone else say it made him finally believe it. “Okay, what do I do next?”
“Well. I’d say you need to start living again. If there are things you’ve been putting off because of this, start doing them. Get yourself a part time job, focus on your studies, look at colleges, and smile at a pretty girl. Live every day to its fullest.”
“You’re really good at this.” Hector stood and smiled at him. “Thanks for listening, Detective, but I gotta get to school.”
“Come back tomorrow morning. I’ll have information on where you can get tested.”
“Thanks.” He rubbed his palms on his jeans, then stuck one hand out and though it trembled, he held firm as Davin shook it. “Thank you, Detective Monroe.”
“You’re welcome, Hector.”
Watching until the kid was out of sight, Davin pulled out his cell phone and dialed Everly. The doc didn’t disappoint and promised to have several options for Hector in his email by afternoon. Still, he sat, watching the spot where the kid ran off to as he dialed another number.
“Miss me already, Detective?” He didn’t know when that replaced ‘baby’ as Alaric’s go-to term of endearment, but he loved hearing it in Alaric’s sexy voice.
“All the time actually. Do you have a minute?”
“I can wipe my entire day and pick you up if you need me to?”
“And I love you for offering, but I just needed to hear your voice for a few minutes and maybe tell you a story.”
“Anything you want.”
As he shared the details of his meeting with Hector, Alaric remained silent, letting him get it all out. “Hector just needed someone to listen and nudge him onto the right path. Why isn’t there more information out there for boys about this?”
“I would say it’s because, as advanced as we’ve become as a society, gender roles are on the backward slide. Only girls play with dolls, only girls wear pink, and only girls get sexually assaulted.”
“It’s ludicrous. Men deserve to get help too!” Just because he hadn’t been able to get that for himself didn’t mean he didn’t think it was the right step. “If Hector hadn’t seen me on the news, what would have happened to him? Christ, he doesn’t even have a telephone.”
“He found a way to talk to you, though.”
“I’m glad he did, but how many more Hector’s are out there? I thought I knew what that press conference would stir up, but I wasn’t expecting him. He was all brash and ballsy, knows he lives in the real world, and doesn’t want anyone bullshitting him or trying to hug it all better.”
“I imagine he was quite like you then and it’s safe to say you just changed his life.”
“Thank you.” The conversation with Hector had stirred something up in him and he was glad Alaric was there to help him work it out. “I hate to cut this short, but that screech you heard was Sully taking the corner like it was the final lap of Daytona 500. I love you.”
“I love you too, Detective. Keep my warrior safe.”
Sully pulled up at the curb just as he was clicking off. Any plans he had for reviewing paperwork before they resumed their search were gone, but Davin felt what he’d done was better than any paper pushing.
“Camille did some baking last night,” Sully said by way of greeting as he slipped in the passenger’s seat. “She’s testing some new recipes for the shop and we’re her guinea pigs.”
Davin opened the white bakery box that he had to move to get in the car and whistled low, “We can’t eat all of this.”
“I figure when we meet up with Juan and your man for lunch, we can do a tasting. It will go a long way in getting my nooners back.”
“Are we having lunch with Juan and Ric?”
“I messaged Juan on the way over and he said he’d set it up. I figured by the time we finish making the
rounds, it will be a good time to regroup and share information.”
Since it was a good idea, Davin didn’t point out how awkward it was for his partner to be setting up meetings with his partner. “All right, let’s head over to Esperanza's on First and 12th, and see if Maria Calderon is working this morning.”
As he pointed the car in the right direction, Sully nudged his head. “Refresh my memory.”
“Maria was working at her father’s bodega alone when a couple of guys robbed the place. Seems her father told her if it ever happened to just hand over the money, which she did, but that didn’t stop one of them from slapping her around a bit. Said she didn’t care about the money, but when he hit her, she hit him back, knocked the mask half off his face and revealed the tattoo on his neck. She worked with a sketch artist and they were able to work up a pretty good likeness. Within five hours of the sketch hitting the news, they had multiple tips leading them to Simon Ferris and he confessed during interrogation. Never gave up his partner, though.”
“Who worked the case?”
“Eckhart and Wing out of MP North.”
“Hmmm. Terence came from money, why would they need to hit up a bodega?”
“For fun? Drug money? The Bennett kids weren’t just given a trust to live off of, they were expected to work just like everyone else. Not that there wasn’t money available to them, but the monthly stipend wouldn’t have supported Terence’s extracurricular activities, especially if he was footing the bill for a partner. Or maybe it was his way of making sure his partner was bringing his half to the table.” Both were viable theories and that was only the beginning. “Oh, and we know Terence was stealing. We found proof he was skimming off the company funds.”
“The guy was an all-around dick, wasn’t he?”
“Says here Ferris only did six months in lockup for the robbery. We’ll have to see if the assaults stopped during that time frame.”
“You don’t think Terence would have flown solo?”
“No, then he would have no one to take the fall.”
“Right, right. Okay, what’d Ferris do next?”
“He was a person of interest in another bodega robbery three months later, but there wasn’t enough evidence and he didn’t roll in interrogation. After that he got popped beating up a drug dealer on Miami Beach, claims it was self-defense and did a couple of nights before the case got thrown out for mishandled evidence. The rest of this is more of the same. Busted for a couple of nights, sentenced to a couple of nights, then back out in the sunshine.”
“Where is he now?”
“Last known is the Village halfway house. Also got reports of him picking up odd jobs at the local hardware store.”
“Did the plain clothes get eyes on him?”
“Nothing back on that yet, but I shot out a message that I want reports by noon.”
Sully found a spot across from Esperanza’s and looked around. “A hair salon?”
“Maybe they can do something with that mop on your head while we’re here.”
“Hey, my wife likes this mop. She says the unkempt look is trendy.”
“I’d say she has no taste, but I’d hate to give up the free baked goods.”
“Let’s go rattle the cages.”
It was still early, but there were three customers in the salon, two hairdressers, and the girl at the receptionist desk who turned out to be Maria Calderon. She was not happy to see them.
“I’m not sure what else I can tell you, Officers. They put the guy in jail.”
“We’re curious about the partner. Do you remember anything about him?”
“He had the gun, one of those big sawed-off things you see in the movies. And he kept an eye on the door and his watch.”
“What kind of watch?”
“I don’t know. Looked gold, but it could have been a knock-off.”
“What about his voice? High or deep? Did he have an accent?”
“Kinda even, not too high or deep, steady and calm. No accent. I think he was white.” She paused and tilted her head, as if she was trying to remember. “Yeah, he definitely sounded white.”
Davin ignored Sully’s sideways look and asked, “What was he wearing?”
“They were both wearing all black. Pants, t-shirts, ski masks. Oh! The guy you’re asking about was wearing dress shoes. You’d think he would have picked something easier to run in, but like I said, he wasn’t rushed. The other guy, Ferris, he was strung out, jonesing, but the one you’re talking about was cool as ice.”
“Anything else you think is important?” When she shook her head, Davin handed her his business card. “Well, if you do remember something, please give us a call.”
“Yeah, sure.” She glanced at his card and Davin wondered how long it would take for her to pitch it in the trash. “Why are you after him now? The robbery was a couple of years ago.”
“They’re both persons of interest in another crime.”
“We all saw you on TV, so I know what you think he did. Do you think they were going to…” Maria trailed off and looked around the salon. When she was sure no one was listening, she leaned in and asked softly, “Were they there to hurt me?”
“I know that they didn’t. Isn’t that all that matters?”
Back in the car, Sully buckled up, but he didn’t start the car. “Sounds like Ferris was jonesing for a fix and the partner wasn’t. Maybe Terence was making him pay his own way.”
“If it was Terence.”
“Fancy watch, fancy shoes?”
“This is Miami and, as Maria pointed out, knock-offs are easy to come by.”
“This feels right, partner.”
Maybe, maybe not, it wasn’t making his radar jump. “Head north. We’ll visit the Olancho on 441. It’s the last known employment for the drug dealer Ferris beat up on Miami Beach. We’ll show him Terence’s picture, see if he was a regular customer.”
“You don’t sound too hopeful.”
“It would be far too easy and why would Terence have his drug dealer roughed up? His addiction ran too deep to muddy those waters.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alaric
Alaric knew he was crossing a line when he entered Juan’s conference room before hours. Captain James had been adamant about the chain of custody and ensuring full transparency, and Alaric knew that was as much to protect the case and his detectives as it was a warning for him. Any hint of impropriety would be seen as an attempt to protect the Bennett name…as if that hadn’t already been dragged through the mud.
The way he saw it, the only way to redeem their name was to do right by the people who were hurt by them. He didn’t lie when he said Terence was the only one to blame—his brother’s actions were his own and nothing they did would atone for that. However, he also couldn’t ignore how epically they mishandled the situation and that was something he could change.
For those reasons, he was even more adamant than James that every new bit of information be thoroughly investigated so that all the facts were brought to light—no matter how bad it made them look. Between his resources and Juan’s skills, they were determined to give Davin what he needed to find the partner and to give the district attorney enough to build an ironclad case against them.
At least, that had been his only goal before the DIU sent over a drive full of photos without warning them of the contents. Juan hadn’t thought twice about decrypting the data, then got sidetracked following another lead. By the time he looked up again, the wall was covered with digital images of Davin in various states of distress. Alaric had chosen that moment to walk in, sending Juan into a frenzy to pull them down.
At first, Alaric was more focused on calming Juan down than on what he was trying to hide. By the time his brain caught up, there was no amount of frantic button pushing that would erase those images from his memory. Juan tried to apologize, which Alaric dismissed. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t the DIU’s fault, though they had to have known and could have given a heads
up.
Terence was the only one to blame, Alaric told Juan and reminded himself, but how they reacted was equally important. If they were truly determined to investigate every scrap and lead, then they had to look at the images. Look and dissect and try to find clues in the grainy pixels. That was their job. That was how they could help Davin and Hurley get justice for every person Terence hurt.
They argued over it. Juan pleaded with him. In the end, the two of them stood together and went frame by frame through Davin’s assault. They made note of the reflected faces the DIU highlighted, debated details that were either too blurry to make out or seemed inconsistent with what they already knew, and added all the data to the lists they were compiling.
Through it all, Juan kept looking at him, and he kept looking at Davin. He wasn’t a masochist, but he couldn’t hide from the pain, from the evidence of Davin’s suffering, or from the way he fought even when he was drugged and restrained and hurting. Davin was angry at himself for not recognizing the setup before it was too late and believed that somehow made him culpable, and nothing Alaric said would change his mind.
Would knowing he never stopped fighting make him see things differently? He was one man against…fuck…not just the six men who participated. There were other people inside and outside the bar who saw, who watched, who didn’t fucking help! People who stood lookout, others who cheered them on, and still others who took turns holding the camera. Even as big as Davin was now, he would have been no match against a mob.
Back then? No way. Especially, not by himself.
But as much as Alaric thought he might get some measure of comfort, or at least not be so angry with himself, he didn’t want Davin to ask to see the pictures and he was afraid his detective would claim it was necessary for the case. And maybe he wouldn’t have any choice. The pictures were evidence. The DIU enhanced them so they could be used now in the investigation and later in a trial. If that happened, then the press would get them and...
It was enough to make him consider breaking his promise to the Captain.
All it would take was a few taps of the keyboard to delete the copies they’d been working with and he could write a script to delete the originals off Juan’s drive when he connected to the table the next day. Removing them from the DIU server would be harder, but not necessarily out of reach if he really wanted to flex the Bennett Group’s clearance. Juan would figure it out pretty quickly, though Alaric didn’t think he would give more than a token protest. For the hacker, working with the MPD was better than being arrested by them, and his loyalties were more personal than professional.
