Severed Relations

by Rebecca Forster

  "We know about Eros Manufacturing."

  Sam Barnett stopped and the blood drained from his face, but the man's mind was working overtime, putting together the proper response, one that couldn't be used against him in a court of law. Finn didn't want him to have that time.

  "I don't give a piss what you're doing on paper, but we're not talking paper now. There might be people who want you dead because of your shenanigans."

  "I don't know what –," Sam began.

  "Own it, man. In Italy a family was killed because the father was doing exactly what you're doing. Is protecting dirty money worth looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life? Was it worth your daughters' lives?" Finn was begging now. "Please, sir. What will come will come, but now we need both of you to be away from here until this is sorted out."

  Sam Barnett looked at Finn's hand on the door and Finn looked at the man's face. What beauty he once had was lost in the dark-rim of his eyes, the sunken cheeks and the pallor of his skin. He wore his fancy clothes, all well cut by a tailor, but those clothes looked like they had been slept in for days.

  "Please, Mr. Barnett. Please. I want to save your wife at least."

  At the mention of Elizabeth Barnett, the lawyer threw off the detective's hand, stepped back and pushed the door hard. Instinctively, Finn threw out both hands and pushed back.

  "You arrogant son of a bitch. Elizabeth is my wife, I will protect her."

  "Listen to me," Finn said as he wedged himself between the door and the frame. "Listen, man. I'll not tell the missus about your business. I will not breathe a word to upset her more."

  "She wouldn't understand you even if you did. She can't talk to you or anyone."

  Sam Barnett's breath was shallow and it was catching on tears but Finn had seen Sam Barnett look this way before. He had seen him look like this the day he found his children murdered. The lawyer knew then that he was responsible for the deaths in his house and he said nothing. It was Barnett's cowardice that angered Finn more than anything.

  "Let me by you, or I swear I will go over you."

  Sam's eyes darted over his shoulder and that was enough for Finn. He pushed that door with all his might, face-to-face, nose-to-nose with the attorney until with one last, huge effort Finn pushed and the lawyer lost his footing. Finn rushed into the house, calling as he went.

  "Mrs. Barnett! Mrs. Barnett!"

  Finn's foot was on the first stair when Sam spun him around.

  "What do you think you're doing? Stop, you'll make it worse."

  Finn looked down on the man. He wanted to hit him, shove him out of this house and gather Elizabeth Barnett up and keep her safe. Instead, he caught the lawyer's wrist.

  "I am concerned for the welfare of your wife, Mr. Barnett," Finn said evenly. "I am within my rights as an officer of the law to enter this home whether you like it or not."

  "You have no rights here and you know it. " Sam Barnett hissed.

  Finn tossed aside the man's arm and turned his back, but before he was half way up the long staircase, Sam Barnett let out a howl of anger and lunged at Finn. The attack, though, was over before it had begun when Sam caught sight of Elizabeth standing on the landing above, watching them. Finn's head snapped around and he pushed Sam aside and went for her.

  "Elizabeth? Are you all right?"

  "Don't come up here. Don't." Elizabeth put out her hand to stop him.

  Sam took advantage of the moment and tried to pass but the detective put out his arm, barring him. Sam fell hard against the railing, breaking one of the spindles as he tried to catch himself to keep from falling. Finn paid him no mind. He only had eyes for the woman.

  "Are you alright, missus?" Finn's voice rolled through the big, near empty house.

  "Leave her alone," Sam cried, but Finn turned on him and pounded down the stairs. He took Sam Barnett by the collar of his very expensive shirt and pulled him close.

  "A normal human being would be appreciative of an officer's concern, so either you're scared or you're responsible for this. Which is it, Mr. Barnett?"

  "Get your hands off me," Sam said.

  "Detective O'Brien!"

  Finn looked over his shoulder, angry to be interrupted. This was no longer about dead children, a nanny cold in her grave, a greedy corporation or a greedy lawyer. It was about this woman and her mother's heart and Finn O'Brien so much wanted to save her from this cowardly man.

  "Let go of Sam," she pleaded. "Don't hurt him. Please."

  Finn hesitated. He held her gaze – her warm blue eyes looking deep into his icy ones. It was then, seeing how much she wanted this man, that he did as she asked.

  To Elizabeth Barnett he said: "Can you come down here, missus. Please."

  Elizabeth shook her head and her husband bounded up the stairs and took her in his arms. She put her face against his shoulder as he led her into the little girls' room. Finn hung his head. He had no standing. She was not under duress. She had made her choice. Finn turned around but before he got down the stairs, Sam Barnett called to him.

  "O'Brien." Finn raised his eyes. "Look at the walls."

  Finn did as Sam directed and saw that all the pictures of the little girls were gone. Some of the furniture in the fine rooms was covered with sheets.

  "Is she leaving here, then?" Finn asked.

  "No," Sam answered and indicated the girls' room. "Everything is in there; every picture and video of our children. Everything they ever touched. Now leave us alone. I will get her the help she needs, I will make sure no one hurts her and that includes you. Now, get out of my house."

  From where he stood atop the stairs, Sam watched through the half moon window above the door. Finn O'Brien appeared in pieces through that window: his head, his wide shoulders, his long legged body. He walked slowly, a gunslinger going off into the sunset. When he got in his car and drove away, Sam ran his hands through his hair as he looked over the house. He made a sound that was part laugh, part sob. The SEC. O'Brien had told him that like he was giving Sam a peek into hell. The SEC was the least of his worries. He went back to girls' room. Elizabeth was sitting on the box springs of Alana's bed surrounded by pictures of the girls, cradling the bundle of curtains.

  "Is he gone?"

  "Yes, sweetheart. He's gone." Sam was careful to speak slowly and move cautiously.

  "I didn't want him to hurt you, Sam," she said.

  "I don't want him to hurt you, either, Elizabeth."

  "I'm glad you're home, Sam. I don't think I can live without you."

  "Oh, Elizabeth."

  Sam sat down on the box spring opposite his wife. He was exhausted from his sadness and their passionate, at odds desire for things that could not be: Elizabeth wanting Sam to come home and start again; Sam seeking a way to protect Elizabeth from herself. They didn't talk for the longest time.

  Instead, they looked at the little ballerina box their daughters' had loved and the thing lying next to it. That thing was the gun Sam Barnett bought to protect his family, the one Elizabeth kept under lock and key until now. It was the gun she threatened to use if he did not come back and make their home happy again.

  CHAPTER 43

  DAY 10 – LATE MORNING

  "Detective O'Brien?" Tina put her head into Finn's office. "Captain wants to see you. Make it snappy."

  He put his hand on Cori's shoulder. She had been hunkered over the computer, going through files, and sending out bulletins on John Kramer and the boy in the morgue.

  "Think that means both of us?" Cori asked.

  Finn hadn't pulled any punches when he told her about what happened at the Barnett house so he knew full well this was about him.

  "No, I do not. You take off when you're done."

  Cori nodded and went back to her work. When she looked up again, she was surprised to see a half hour had gone by. Finn was not back so she put on her jacket, took up her purse and headed out, slowing when she saw three people in the hall, heads tipped, as they strained to make sense of the raised
voices coming from Fowler's office. Raised voices were never a good thing in a police station but it was really bad when one of them was Finn O'Brien's. She started to walk more quickly, stopping again when a door slammed. Finn stormed out of the captain's office, strode down the hall and paused long enough to say:

  "Sam Barnett filed assault charges. I'm suspended."

  "The hell you say."

  "I say. Fowler says. You keep–"

  Cori was past Finn and into Fowler's office before Tina could stop her. The door slammed, she put her butt up against it and opened her mouth. Captain Fowler beat her to the punch.

  "I don't want to hear it, Anderson, so get the hell out of my office."

  "I've got to say it, Captain, so you might as well listen up." Her great chest heaved but Fowler had a bead on her eyes and his gaze was unwavering. His jaw worked. Finally he said:

  "Speak."

  "You don't know me from Adam, but I'm telling you I don't make waves unless I'm pretty sure that the boat I'm tippin' deserves it and boy, this one does. We've come as far as we have on this case because of O'Brien."

  "Don't give him the power, Anderson," Fowler warned.

  "I'm not. I swear." She pushed off the door and put both her hands on his desk. "I know I'm good but he's better, Captain. O'Brien's instincts. His decision-making. His risk taking on behalf of the victims, that's got us where we are. That's what being a cop is about. Right? Right?"

  Fowler wasn't buying it so Cori cast about for the right words. She grabbed a chair and sat down, eye to eye with her captain.

  "Look, you asked me to come here, and I did because both of us know that O'Brien is a good cop. The difference between us is that I can say it and you can't. I get it. So see, we're not disagreeing. Are we, Captain?"

  Fowler tossed his pen aside and looked away from her. He looked tired but that came with the job so Cori didn't feel bad for him.

  "No, we're not, but he's crossed a line. You had sketchy info from the SEC. There was no direct threat, but O'Brien acted like there was. That is not good police work."

  "That was his gut."

  "I repeat, not good police work," Fowler said. "The only way to satisfy Barnett is O'Brien's head or the heads of the people who killed his kids. Bring me something I can hang my hat on in twenty-four hours or I turn it over to internal affairs."

  "That's just plain impossible and you know it," Cori complained.

  "Then that's it," Fowler said. "I'll put you with Schumacher until a decision is made about O'Brien."

  "You mean the putz that wouldn't work with O'Brien? Don't do me any favors," Cori drawled.

  "Then that's it for you, too. Is that what you want after all this?"

  "No," Cori answered miserably.

  "Look, both of you did a good job. Be proud, but don't put your blinders on. O'Brien brought this on himself." Fowler gave her a nod. "Twenty-four hours is the best I can do, Anderson. Take it or leave it."

  "Yes, sir."

  As much as Cori wanted to make a brilliant argument for seeing this play out to the end with Finn, she knew she had no words to convince Bob Fowler so she walked her way back: out Fowler's door, past Tina who seemed sad, down the hall and into the office where Finn was packing up. Since he had nothing personal in the office, he was housekeeping the files she would need to move ahead.

  "I didn't help much," she said.

  "Did you think you would?"

  "Yeah, I did." She lifted a shoulder and passed him a grin. "We've got twenty-four hours. If we don't have something big for Barnett you're gone and I'm working with Schumacher."

  "Then I shall pray for a miracle for sure," Finn said.

  "You do that, O'Brien."

  Cori flopped into her chair. She kicked at the leg of the desk and gnawed on her bottom lip, trying to think of something that would make this better. Hoping for a miracle just wasn't going to cut it. She sat forward.

  "Shove me the phone."

  Finn did. He leaned against the wall and watched Cori dial, and wait, and wait. She sat up fast when it was answered.

  "Mr. Barnett?" Cori clamped the phone between shoulder and cheek and slid a pad of paper her way. "Detective Anderson here. I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am that Detective O'Brien's behavior upset you yesterday."

  She listened.

  "Yes, I do understand that he upset your wife, too. In fact, I'd like to speak to Mrs. Barnett, if I could. I'd just like to apologize personally." Cori fell silent again. "No, of course. I understand now isn't a good time. Maybe I could drop by a little later to introduce my new partner."

  Cori listened.

  "I could come alone then. I'd like to bring over a picture of the man we believe was in your home. Would that be all right?"

  Cori waited.

  "No? I see. Yes, of course I understand. Sure. Of course, she should see the doctor tomorrow. Uh-huh. Yep. No problem. I'll check back in. Sure."

  She hung up and sat back, pulling her bottom lip under her top teeth.

  "What do you think?" Finn asked.

  "I think it's time to go home," Cori answered.

  She couldn't look at Finn because he would see that she thought he was wrong. Sam Barnett sounded worried not crazy. That meant one of any number of things: Finn had flipped because the idea of dead kids was too much for him, or Elizabeth Barnett hit him where he lived because of what his mother went through. It could be that Finn hit rock bottom because he knew they would never find out who was responsible for this mess in the same way he had never found the person who killed Alexander. Or – and this was the worst – maybe Finn O'Brien was just Irish pissed at everyone and should never have been allowed back at work.

  "I'll catch up with you later, Cori."

  Finn kissed her atop her head.

  "Sooner than later, O'Brien," she answered, unable to look at him.

  That sooner or later she had promised him had come a lot sooner than even she thought it would. Two hours after Finn had left the office, Cori was opening her door to him.

  "Geoffrey is a bit miffed at you, Cori. I was on my way to running up the biggest tab Mick's has ever seen."

  "You're not wasted," she said as she led him into the living room.

  "We were just lining them up when you called." Finn dropped into a chair, his long legs splayed. He looked neither tired nor angry, he looked accepting and that was something she had never seen in Finn O'Brien. "Are there no children about?"

  "They're watching T.V. in the back."

  Cori took the couch, a floral number that was wearing thin at the arms. There was a playpen in the corner and Finn could see a highchair pushed up against the table in the space they called a dining room but which was really nothing more that a space between the living room and kitchen. Cori picked up her mail but before she could speak, Finn opened his hands, raised his eyebrows.

  "If you're going to be offering me a drink, now's the time," Finn said.

  "I think you're going to need your wits, cowboy." She held out the stack of mail. "Take a look at this."

  He fanned the stack but looked at her curiously when he found nothing of interest.

  "Third one," she directed. Finn pulled out an oversized postcard and tossed the rest the mail on the coffee table. "Other side."

  Finn flipped it and then, it seemed, he stopped breathing.

  "I took Amber to that place every year to get her picture taken until she was fourteen. Now I take her and Tucker. I'm on the mailing list for life. When you sign the contract there's a release to use the pictures for advertising purposes."

  Finn heard everything she said, but he had been rendered speechless by the picture on the postcard. Staring back at him, grinning their best Sunday grins, were two little girls, their heads crowned with frizzy red hair, and around their necks, in strange contrast to their cheap, frilly dresses, were two exquisite necklaces. The pendants were shaped like octagons; they were etched, Finn knew, with names that were not theirs. And when the photographer's flash went
off, it was reflected back by the two small diamonds placed just above the 'i' in Alexis and the tail of the 'a' in Alana.

  CHAPTER 44

  DAY 10 – EVENING

  They took Finn's car to the home of Georgia Peyton, the woman whose children were on that postcard by default when the intended image disappeared into the printer's computer, never to be seen again. After a bit of wrangling on Cori's part, the store gave up the information they were looking for. Since Finn agreed to Cori's lead, he stepped aside when she called for backup.

  Lang was an old timer, burly and near retirement, comfortable in his own skin. Williams was fresh out the academy and kept his hand on the butt of his weapon as if he couldn't believe it belonged to him. Neither of them wanted to shake Finn's hand: Lang clearly knew O'Brien's history and Williams, even if it wasn't as fresh in his mind, followed his partner lead. Finn took no offense but he didn't want this nasty thing coming between the job. He stepped in and took a moment with the big man.

  "We're good on this are we not, friend?"

  "No beef while we're on the clock," Lang answered. Finn took a look at the young cop, but he didn't have to ask the question because Lang had the answer. "He's good, too."

  "Appreciated," Finn answered.

  "As I said, not on the clock."

  Where the line was drawn was all Finn needed to know. Once he knew that, he could choose to step over it and so could his brothers in blue. Finn gave nod to Cori, who had left her purse and carried her weapon under her jacket at the small of her back.

  "Okey-dokey, folks. We're looking at number 4241," Cori said. "I've got Deputy D.A. Palmer working on warrants, so until then we just want to get a look at things. We think there are two little girls, the mother and the man we're looking for in that house. His name is Peyton – don't have a first name. Kinky red hair is all we got at the moment. We've got Earl running Peyton through the system but he doesn't have anything for us yet. We do know that the guy's a pro so stay sharp."

  "What are we looking at him for?" Lang asked.