by A. C. Henley
Quin growled, "God is that awful or what? Did you get the name of that guy by the way? I'd like a word with him." She looked at the blonde standing on her porch, "I recall you saying something earlier about the chances of you calling me in this lifetime?"
"I'm not calling." Vivian smirked.
"Oh, true, you're not." The brunette paused for a moment, "How very clever." Quin stepped back from the door, "Please come in Detective."
Vivian stepped into the dark foyer of the big old house. It took her by some surprise that this was Quinlan McKee's home as she pulled up in front of it. Silverlake was an old, long-established Los Angeles neighborhood. Big, wood clabbered houses sat on hilly streets. They rarely came up for sale, and when they did, expect to pay three quarters of a million dollars or more for one that was in the condition that Quinlan McKee's house was. "Nice place." She commented as a light came on to her right, illuminating the space.
"Thanks, my… my partner and I did the work. It was worth every splinter, and bruise." She said tucking her hands into her pockets.
Vivian didn't miss the hesitation in the smaller woman's voice at the mention of her partner. "Well, it's beautiful. Perhaps sometime I could get the full tour. I'm a bit confused though; I thought for sure you were flirting with me earlier, and here I find you're already taken." She wasn't sure where her forwardness came from, maybe it was the fact that the woman openly came on to her and was in essence cheating on her partner.
"Was… she's gone." Quin stated softly, she found herself uncomfortable under the scrutiny of this woman. She lifted her head, "Grace was killed three years ago."
"I'm sorry… I had…" Vivian's heart sank into her stomach.
"No way you could have known." Quin shrugged.
"No, I suppose you're right, still…"
The brunette shook her head, "Forget it, besides I'm sure you have a reason for coming here."
Besides getting another glimpse at that physique? Vivian questioned herself, but said aloud, "We were wondering how you came up with Donald Peterson as the kidnapper. He's nowhere in our investigation."
"He's not the kidnapper," came the simple response.
"What do you mean not the kidnapper? Then what the hell is he?" Vivian's voiced raised in volume as she spoke. She felt suddenly on the end of a joke.
"A sick, child molesting bastard. A slaver for sure. And now ball-less. Follow me detective; I'll show you what I have so far." She motioned toward the basement door.
The blonde followed, "I don't detect much in the way of regret, Ms. McKee, for that action."
"Haven't been able to muster up any yet. Please call me Quin, Detective Walsh, I hear my last name enough during the day… usually taken in vain."
"Okay Quin, then please call me Vivian. The "Detective Walsh thing" is overdone as well." The blonde requested as she stepped of the last step into what could only be described as a messy bat cave. "Where do you keep your skin tight costume?" She couldn't help but ask.
Quin smirked, "It's at the cleaners today. Perhaps I'll show it to you at a later date." She pointed to the large white dry erase board, "I kind of stumbled onto Scott actually, I was just feeling around the pedophile online community while looking into other things, and got a hit on the Peterson guy. It took a couple days to track him down. He moves around a lot. " She pulled a paper off the board and gave it to Vivian, "Twenty addys in the last two years that I was able to confirm, he draws some kind of federal disability, so he has to report moves to them, otherwise he would have been nearly untraceable. He bought Scott from an unnamed source."
Vivian looked at the print out handed to her then back up at the board. "The other boy, do you think he was obtained the same way?"
"Purchased?" A confirming nod came from the blonde head, "Probably, or he traded for him. I'm getting to know how it all works. There's a lot of them though, and they aren't all as stupid as Donald Peterson, especially it seems the people who acquire the children."
Vivian looked at the various pieces of information the PI had gathered. It was quite extensive. "How is it we missed all this?" She wondered aloud.
"You were thinking abduction for ransom because of who Peer happens to be. I just worked a different angle, thinking maybe they didn't know whom they had, and once they had already struck the deal it was too late. Peterson had Scott in his custody from day three. No one knew anything of the kidnapping for a full week after it happened, because I suspect you all were waiting for a phone call."
The blonde head nodded, "We dropped the ball."
"No. I got lucky." Quin admitted.
The two women regarded one another for a silent moment.
Vivian spoke first, "I'll share this information with the department, and maybe Peterson will give up his contact. If you come across anything else…"
"You're more than welcome to any thing I have. I want this guy and his friends just as much as you. Let me get you a drink." Quin started for the stairs then turned back, "Have you eaten yet? I can order something in."
Vivian stared at the quantity of information in front of her. It would take several hours at best to sift through just what was organized on the board alone. "I haven't eaten, and only if it isn't too much trouble," she replied.
"No trouble at all. Be right back. Make your self at home." Quin sprinted up the stairs.
Vivian studied the board. She noticed a stack of folders on a low table in front of it with corresponding labels. She picked up the first folder opening it as she shrugged out of her leather jacket. She looked about for a place to sit, but decided the floor in front of the table and board would be the most convenient. A large black dog that wrapped his body around her back soon joined her. Dark eyes looked at her as the dog rested its head on its paws. "Well hello there? Where did you come from?" She asked as she stroked the dog's smooth fur.
"I see the resident lounge hound has found you."
Vivian looked up over her shoulder at the now barefoot brunette. The woman just stepped off the last step. She carried two glasses in one hand and a pitcher of ice tea in the other.
"I hope tea is okay. I ordered a pizza and some salad. Should be here in a few." Quin sat the glasses and pitcher on the low table. "If you would be more comfortable on the couch I could…"
"No… this is fine. I can see everything from here. you don't mind do you?" Vivian asked as she looked back down at the dog, "Besides the companionship is decent down here."
Quin chuckled, "Mike's just a big softy, loves the ladies." She sat down beside the blonde crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees.
"Mike?"
"The big dog wrapped around you." Quin filled the two glasses and reached behind herself producing a long spoon and several small packets of sweetener and sugar. "I didn't know what you took." She held out the small paper packets in one palm and the spoon in the other hand.
Vivian smiled and took two small packs of sugar and a spoon. She prepared her tea and took a long drink. She watched the other woman dump the remainder of sweetener on the table. The brunette drank her tea straight, nearly emptying the glass in three gulps. Her eyes rested on the graceful neck as Quin's head tipped back. She quickly looked down at the file in her lap as the other woman lowered her glass. The detective looked at the words, but didn't read them. Her mind raced with the implications of her obvious attraction to the smaller woman. She closed her eyes and minutely shook her head to clear her thoughts. She then produced her small notebook and began to earnestly read the file, stopping only to make notes and ask defining questions of the PI.
They worked that way for nearly four hours. They took a brief break to eat, but that was it. Vivian was astounded at the amount of information Quin acquired in a short period of time. She was reading the last file when a name jumped up and smacked her in the head. "Justin Downs." She said aloud and looked over to where Quin was resting against the couch. "He sounds familiar; I can't place where I know the name from." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
Her hand then combed through her hair and she stretched her back, emitting several expletives as a series of pops emanated from her spine. "Ugh! I need to move." Almost instantaneously a small tanned hand was in front of her.
"Getting cramped down there?" Quin's gray eyes smiled down at her.
Vivian accepted the hand and let her self be hauled up with astonishing ease. "Too much time in one position." She groused as she continued to stretch her back and legs after standing. She then stooped and picked up the file again. "Justin Downs." She looked at Quin again, "Did you interview him?"
The PI shook her head, "No, he was way down on my list. Did some wiring for one of the neighbors the week Scott was taken. I did a quick check on him and nothing came back, so it became a dead end."
"That's right. He umm… ran some kind of network wiring for the Taylor's a couple doors down from the Peer's."
Quin nodded in agreement.
"Dead end huh?" Vivian asked.
"Nothing I could connect anyway. Did you guys look at him?" the brunette asked as she sat on the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her.
Vivian crossed and sat at the opposite end of the old couch, "He had an alibi. His girlfriend said she had been with him all night on the evening of the abduction, but there was something that didn't click with Tom about that. I can't recall what it was."
"Tom was always good at ferreting out the liars."
The blonde looked up from the file once again, "how long have you known Tom?"
Quin bit her bottom lip for a second then shrugged, "For about ten years, he was Grace's partner."
Vivian's eyebrows raised, "But you didn't even acknowledge him today."
Quin shrugged again, "We didn't exactly leave on speaking terms. I'm surprised he didn't vote to haul me in."
"Actually he's the reason you weren't hauled in." Vivian said as she closed the folder and slumped back into the couch. "What time is it?" She asked as her eyes closed.
"Almost one." Quin replied as she thought about what the detective said regarding Tom Ross.
Vivian pushed herself up off the couch, closed the folder and handed it to Quin, "I think I'm done for tonight." She crossed to the low table and retrieved her mostly spent notebook. "Thanks for the food," she gestured to their empty plates, "I owe you dinner. And umm, thanks for the information. I'll let you know if we come up with anything further."
Quin escorted the detective up the stairs to the front door. "I apologize for my behavior this afternoon. I was a bit stressed; I don't handle children being in a situation like that well. I'm offering my services to you at anytime. You may need someone on the other side of the thin blue line. I can go places and do things that you can't." She paused in her ramblings, "That all sounded so not me. Good blackmail material for the future." She smiled as she opened the door.
Vivian Walsh didn't know what to make of the woman before her. She knew she would be grilling Tom Ross in the morning that was for sure. "I'll think about the offer. Have a good night Quin."
The brunette watched as the tall woman walked down the porch steps to a modest, four door Ford that was parked at the curb. She was undeniably attracted to the woman — a dangerous attraction. One that she was sure she needed to ignore in order to maintain her working frame of mind. She shut the door as the blue car pulled away. The couch in the basement called her name as she descended the basement stairs. Another night in denial. Another night with her nightmares. Maybe returning to Los Angeles wasn't such a good idea.
PART 3
RUTH BOLTED AWAKE moments after her husband's shout and his abrupt waking. Her hand went to his back; the sweat dampened the t-shirt he wore was stuck it to his body. She rubbed soothing circles on his broad back. "What is it honey?"
"Grace."
Her husband's low whisper stabbed at her heart. She rolled to the side and turned on the small lamp there. She picked up an ever-present glass of water and offered it to her husband. "It's been a long while since you've had that particular nightmare," she said as she accepted the nearly empty glass back.
"I saw Quinlan McKee today."
Ruth sat completely up and scooted back against the headboard of the bed. "Where?" It was a name that Ruth Ross had wished never to hear again.
"She broke the Peer case. She found the boy." Tom pushed himself up to sit beside his wife.
"She shot that man. Didn't she?" Ruth asked as missing pieces of news reports fell into place.
"Yes. Didn't kill him though. I think I might have if I had seen what she did." His hands brushed through his graying hair, recalling the scene when he had arrived.
"She's dangerous, and should have been put away a long time ago."
"Ruth…"
"NO." Ruth said forcibly. "She's not right Tom. She's crazy. Something broke when Grace died."
Tom nodded. There was no denying that Quinlan McKee was forever changed by the death of her lover. He had even become one of her targets. He had actually feared for his life, but then she up and disappeared. And he had nearly forgotten that the woman had even existed until this afternoon. "She seemed more like her old self though, gave Vivian a run for her money."
"Vivian? Tom, Vivian does not need to get involved with that woman."
"That woman was one of our closest friends Ruth, how can you just turn…"
Ruth threw the covers off and exited the bed, she paced the floor, "She came into our house Tom, intent on killing you."
"She didn't though." Tom said moving to sit at the side of the bed and watched his wife pace.
Ruth rubbed her extended belly thoughtfully, "I can't forgive that Tom, and I certainly can't forget it."
Tom reached his hand out and waited for his wife to take it. After a few moments he felt her small soft hand slide into his own. He pulled his wife to stand in front of him and wrapped his arms around her. He laid his head against her swollen abdomen. "I thank god every night that I have you Ruth, and pray that I keep you every morning. I can't imagine what Quin went through after losing Grace."
That was something Ruth hadn't thought about. What would she do if something happened to Tom and he didn't come home from the job? Would she react as McKee had? She stroked his head, running her fingers through his thick hair, looking down on him in a way his fellow officers were never likely to see him. Perhaps if she had the capability that McKee had she would take revenge for her husband's death. Hopefully she would never have to answer that question.
"Let's go back to bed love. We both have busy days tomorrow." Tom urged his wife under the covers. He lay close to her with his hand over her stomach, making small patterns with his fingertips. He felt her move just enough to reach the nightstand and extinguish the light. He continued his movements until a soft snore indicated that Ruth had fallen asleep once again. He rolled over onto his back and let the images of his nightmare play against the darkened ceiling. He wished someone could take the images from him, but knew he carried them for a reason, what it was he didn't know. Maybe Quinlan McKee had an answer for him. There was more to know about the incident three years ago, something he was yet to discover. Something that would put it all to rest for all of them. Sleep wouldn't return to him this night as with so many others when the nightmare came. He was content to know that Ruth had returned to sleep. At least one of them would have a decent nights rest.
Vivian threw a worn file on top of her partner's desk. "Donald Peterson." She said as she plopped down in her chair.
Tom Ross looked at the thick and obviously well-used file, "Has our boy been a busy lad during his life?" he needlessly asked as he opened the volume and began to read.
"Six offenses in the state of California alone. Boys, girls, animals, the guy is a real sicko. They put him in a hospital for a few months, declared him competent, and released him back into mainstream society where he gets another kid and continues on his merry little way." Vivian opened her own desk drawer pulling out a brown paper sack. She emptied the contents on her desk, a sandwich, bag of chips
and a candy bar landed in a heap. She tossed the candy bar at the man across from her, "You look like you could use a boost."
The man accepted the candy gratefully. "I didn't get much sleep last night."
"I know what you mean." Vivian opened the baggie that contained her sandwich, pulling the bread apart to check its contents. "I was up late myself, got some interesting information from your PI friend." She took a healthy bite of the ham and cheese sandwich that her landlord had made for her. She was grateful the matronly woman had adopted her and provided for her midday meal. It was often the only sustenance she would take during the day until she got home to a bowl of soup.
Tom raised a salt and pepper eyebrow, "You went to see McKee?"
"Why did you think I asked for her address?"
"Thought she wasn't your type?"
Vivian looked across their joined desks, "I didn't fuck her, and I wanted to know how she came up with Peterson," she said a bit harshly.
"Sorry." Tom said as he chewed another bite of sweet chocolate and caramel, "I really didn't mean it that way."
"Anyway," Vivian started again, "it seems Peterson isn't our kidnapper, he's a lot of other things, but he didn't take the kid." She tried to keep the conversation on track and away from any kind of personal feelings she might or might not have for the small brunette.
Tom watched his partner for a moment. She had been a bit edgy all day, and he became concerned that something might have happened between the two women. "Did McKee give you a hard time about showing up unannounced last night?"
"No, should she have?" Two chips fell victim to Vivian's hunger simultaneously, "That reminds me, why didn't you tell me how well you knew Quin? How long were you partners with Grace?"
My my they did have quite the chat, Tom thought as he swallowed the last of the candy bar. "Ten years."
"And you see her lover after how long and not even a hello?"
"After three years, and we didn't leave things on the best of terms. Now I would really like to change the subject."
