Page 16

Ryan

By the time I walk into the station, it’s late in the afternoon, I’m starving and nursing a killer headache. I’d practically murder someone for a hotdog, but I don’t have time, not with everything I still need to do.

First up on that list is to update the captain and Joe with everything I found out yesterday and this morning.

“Fuck,”

I murmur as I walk into my office. I shrug off my jacket and throw it in the direction of my chair before picking up the case file and walking back out. “Joe,”

I call out as I head in the direction of the captain’s office.

“You got a sec?”

Joe looks up, nods once and is out of his chair and walking toward me.

I rap once on the closed door before opening it, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

The captain is on the phone and shoots us an annoyed look as he holds up a finger, signaling for us to wait.

“You okay?”

Joe asks quietly.

I exhale, running a hand through my hair as I shake my head.

Despite getting some answers from Erin last night, I’m far from okay.

My detour to the prison this morning didn’t help things either.

Interviewing Fitzgerald was about as productive as slamming my cock in a car door, which is exactly what I’d expected from him, smarmy little shit that he is.

His visitor’s log didn’t offer up anything either.

Just the usual routine of over-priced defense lawyers, the names of which I recognized as being connected to all the crime-ridden fuckwits that run riot in Boston.

There was no sign of Anthony Macklin on the visitor list, which I’d also expected.

No sign of Fitzgerald’s wife either, or any other family member.

I’m pretty sure Erin is an only child, but I guess I can’t be certain of anything about her family history anymore.

Erin Fitzgerald.

God that’s not a name I’m never going to get used to.

“Summers, what can I do for you?”

I clear my throat, unsure how this new information is going to be received given the circumstances.

On the one hand, we now had a shitload more information about the people involved in the gun deal we interrupted the other night.

But on the other hand, my girlfriend and her mob-boss father are now connected to it all.

This is not going to be pretty.

“There have been some developments, Sir,”

I start, stepping forward and taking a seat, Joe immediately following my lead.

“I need to let you both know about some new information regarding what went down in the warehouse the other night.”

“Okay,”

the captain says, elbows on the desk as he leans forward.

I take a deep breath, pulling the photo from the case file.

“Seems the whole thing is connected to Fitzgerald and his crew,”

I say, sliding it across his desk.

“This was found amongst the guns and shit that night. It’s an old family portrait. Fitzgerald, his wife, his 2IC and…”

I pause, clearing my throat.

“And his daughter.”

“His 2IC?”

Joe chimes in.

“Yeah,”

I nod, not looking at him.

“Anthony Macklin is his name. Likely he was the one who dropped it that night. I have reports that this is the kind of shit he’d definitely be tied up in and given his now known links to Fitzgerald, this blows the whole case against him wide open. We’ll have to contact the DA.”

“Where has this information come from?”

the captain asks, looking up from the photo.

I glance at Joe, before turning back to my boss.

“Fitzgerald’s daughter,”

I say, gesturing toward the picture.

“Goes by the name of Erin Connelly these days.”

My voice cracks as I say her name out loud, officially tying her to this shit storm.

“What?”

Joe practically shouts.

“What?”

the captain says.

“What am I missing here?”

I take another deep breath, trying to remain calm as I look at him and say.

“Erin Connelly. My girlfriend.”

A couple of hours later and Joe and I are finally walking out of the boss’ office. I’m trying to remain calm, but on the inside I’m fuming. It had taken everything I had in me to stay in control of my anger and frustrations as we worked through what would happen next. I’d half lost it when the captain tried to take me off the case citing a massive conflict of interest and possible impaired judgment.

And while I didn’t doubt that this was partly true, given my involvement with Erin, I also knew that I was going to keep working this case whether I was officially on it or not. Aside from Beck and Finn, there was no one else I trusted to look after Erin other than me. Besides, I had a feeling she wouldn’t be too keen on talking to anyone else either.

I got the feeling the captain had understood, so he’d agreed to let me stay on; for now, and with certain conditions attached.

“You wanna get a drink?”

Joe asks.

“I think you probably need one.”

I glance at my watch, and see it’s almost six. “Yeah,”

I exhale.

“That would be good. Just give me a couple of minutes to finish up some things and I’ll be good to go.”

Joe nods and wanders over to his desk.

I walk into my office, flipping through the file for the contact details for the Cedar Junction facility.

I want to call them and make sure they start sending me daily updates on who visits Fitzgerald.

I’m pretty sure Macklin won’t risk it, but he may have a go-between.

The biggest issue will be if the messages are being passed through the lawyers, because that’s one conversation I won’t be privy to, no matter how much I ask.

The sound of my door slamming distracts me and when I look up I’m surprised to see Erin standing in my office, arms folded across her chest and a pissed off expression on her face.

“Hey, babe, what are you doing here?”

I ask, as I walk around my desk and move to hug her.

Erin steps backward, shaking her head a little.

“You went to visit my father?”

she says through clenched teeth.

“Why didn’t you tell me you went to see him?”

“Okay, hold up,”

I say, gently touching her elbow as I guide her toward a chair. Erin reluctantly sits and I do the same, pulling the chair around so we are facing each other.

“Yes, Erin, I did go and see your father. This morning, after I left your place.”

Erin says nothing at first, just stares at me.

“But you didn’t tell me you were going to see him.”

she eventually says. “Why not?”

I pull my chair closer so my legs are on either side of hers, gently pulling at her arms to uncross them so she’s no longer sitting so defensively.

“It was a last minute thing after I found out about the connection, but regardless, this is my job, Erin,”

I say, trying to remain calm.

“There are always going to be things I can’t tell you.”

She shakes her head.

“But you expect me to talk to you about everything?”

“No,”

I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“I expect you not to keep secrets from me. Not to lie to me about your family.”

“Secrets,”

she shouts, pushing out of the chair. She shoves my leg away as she now starts pacing around my office.

“You want me to spill my secrets, but it’s okay if you keep yours?”

“Erin,”

I say, standing.

“This is a fucking police investigation. And in case you’ve forgotten, I am a detective. There are always going to be things I need to know and things I need to do. Things I can’t tell you about. But you, you’re a part of this now and you cannot keep shit from me anymore. No matter how much that pisses you off.”

“Fuck you, Ryan,”

she whispers.

“I trusted you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,”

I mumble, running my hands through my hair. I force myself to take a deep breath before walking over to her. Erin holds her hands in front of her, trying to ward me off but I ignore her, grabbing her arms and pulling her toward me. I wrap her tightly in my arms, holding her against my chest. Her body is rigid with anger but I don’t let up.

“You can trust me, babe,”

I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I told you that. I know you don’t believe me, but you can trust me. I love you and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. But in order for that to happen, you have to let me do my job.”

I feel her hands as they grip my hips now, her fingers digging in as though she’s debating whether to pull me closer or push me away. I loosen my grip a little, running a hand down her spine as though to soothe her.

“I’m not trying to keep things from you, okay?”

I continue.

“I will tell you everything I can, I promise. But I really need you not to keep things from me, especially now that you’re connected to all this. And especially because I’ve had to beg just to stay on this case.”

“What?”

she mumbles against my chest.

I kiss the top of her head again before gently pushing her back. Smiling at her, I lean in and kiss her forehead before saying.

“The boss wanted me off the case but I told him that was never going to happen,”

I say.

“I explained to him that you wouldn’t feel comfortable dealing with anyone else, so really it was in everyone’s best interests if I stayed.”

“And he went for that?”

she asks, biting her bottom lip.

“He did,”

I confirm.

“But you have to talk to me, babe. You can’t keep things from me anymore, okay?”

Erin stares up at me, an unreadable look on her face. I brush a thumb across her cheekbone, willing her to agree with me. “Okay,”

she eventually whispers, nodding her head a little.

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

I ask, cupping her face in my hands.

“I promise I won’t get mad,”

I add when she tries to look away.

Erin gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t quite believe me.

“I promise, babe,” I add.

She takes a deep breath, straightening her spine as she looks me right in the eye.

“There have been phone calls,”

she says, her words a rush as though she just wants to get it all out before I have a chance to ask any questions.

“Nothing is ever said, but I know it must be connected to him. It’s why I changed my number just recently.”

I let out a long breath, force myself to remain calm as I realize how much I’ve missed. “Okay,”

I say carefully.

“Anything else?”

She shrugs.

“I don’t know,”

she says, hands on my hips.

“Sometimes I get the feeling someone’s watching me, but I can’t be sure, you know.”

I lean in and kiss her lips, pulling her against me.

“We’re going to take care of this, Erin, I promise,”

I add, even as a nagging question bites at me. It’s only as Erin starts to deepen the kiss that it hits me.

“Hang on,”

I say, pulling away.

“How did you know I’d been to visit Fitzgerald?”

I watch as Erin swallows hard, her eyes flicking away now, looking anywhere but at me.

“Erin,”

I say, my voice firm.

“Remember what you just promised me,”

I remind her.

“I…”

she stops, stepping backward again.

“Because I went to see him too,”

she says, finally meeting my stare.

“You did what?” I growl.

“I needed to see him,”

she says, taking another step backward.

“I needed to…”

“What you needed to do,”

I say, cutting her off.

“is talk to me about this first. Fuck, Erin, you should not be speaking to him. And you definitely shouldn’t be going to see him alone. Jesus Christ.”

I scrub a hand down my face, my eyes closing in exhaustion as I try to work out a way I can quietly and safely escort Erin out of the city and possibly the country until all of this blows over. I know that’s not going to happen though. As much as I’d like to keep her out of all of this, that subpoena has made that all but impossible. The assistant DA told me as much when I called him to see if I could somehow get her out of testifying.

I walk around to my chair; grabbing my jacket because I know there’s not a chance in hell we can continue this conversation here. There’s already a high probability one or both of us is going to lose our shit in a minute, and as much as I don’t want the entire office to bear witness to that, it’s the inevitable nakedness that always follows that I really don’t need them to see.

“Let’s go,”

I say, grabbing her arm as I steer her out of my office.

“Ryan,”

she says in a way that makes me stop.

“What?”

I ask, frustrated as I turn to look at her.

Erin swallows hard, glancing away quickly before turning back to me.

“He knew about you, about us,”

she says, a nervous edge to her voice.

I stare down at her, see the sadness and regret in her eyes now at everything this is doing to us.

“What exactly did he say?” I ask.

She pulls her arm from my grip, sliding her hand into mine instead, twisting our fingers together.

“He asked why my loyalty was with the detective,”

she whispers.

“Before laughing about how my boyfriend, meaning you,”

she adds as though I need the clarification.

“why he didn’t tell me he’d been to visit.”

“Shit,”

I mumble, shaking my head as I pull her with me and we walk out of my office.

Joe shoots me a look as we pass by his desk, but I shake my head, letting him know that drink won’t be happening tonight. Outside, we head toward my car, but as we get closer, I notice the front tire is flat. “Fuck,”

I groan, wondering if this day could possibly get any worse. Then I notice the back tire is also flat and when I walk around I see the other two are the same.

“What’s happened?”

Erin asks, standing next to me.

I shake my head in confusion even as I see the sheet of paper flapping under the wiper blade. Pulling it out, I stuff it in my pocket, before turning toward her.

“Where’s your car?”

“On the street,”

she says, gesturing.

“Give me your keys,”

I demand and Erin hands them over without saying anything. We walk toward her car and as we climb in I ask.

“Finn knows you’re here?”

Erin shakes her head.

“Text him you’re with me and that you’re staying the night. We can both head up tomorrow.”

Erin complies without argument and as she types out a message, I navigate the evening traffic in her small hatchback toward my place. Although it’s a short trip, the piece of paper burns a hole in my pocket the whole way home. I know this isn’t an accident, not by a long shot. As unlikely as four flat tires is, it’s damn near impossible for four slashed tires to be a fucking accident.

We eventually pull into my condo, both of us silently getting out of the car. I head to my mailbox, knowing I’ve barely been home the past week to empty it. It’s filled with junk mail and bills, which I carry as we head upstairs.

Inside, Erin stops, turns toward me.

“I’m going to go take a shower,”

she says quietly.

I nod, stepping closer to her and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“I’ll be there in a sec,”

I say, wishing both of us could just step into that shower and wash this entire saga away.

She nods before walking toward my bathroom.

The second the shower starts running, I pull the note from my pocket. Unfolding it, my blood boils the second I see what’s written there.

So now we know where you work.

The words are typed and I’d put money on the paper being clean of prints. Shoving it back into my pocket, I throw the bills on the counter, reaching for the scotch in a bid to calm down before I have to walk in and face Erin. But as I do, a large yellow envelope in amongst the white ones catches my eye. It’s addressed to me, but not in a way that suggests it’s been delivered through the post.

I grab it, my hand shaking as I carefully open it and pull the contents out. It’s a single black and white photo of me; walking up the stairs to my condo, phone at my ear and a smile on my face. It’s not dated, but at a guess, I’d say it’s recent, probably as recent as two weeks ago.

I flip it over and see the note, hand written this time, on the back.

And where you live.

“Fuck,”

I grit between clenched teeth, shoving the photo back inside the envelope.

Walking quickly into the bedroom, I yank open the top drawer of the side table, placing the note from my car and the envelope from the mail inside. Slamming it shut, I turn and walk back to the kitchen, picking up the bottle of scotch and taking a long pull straight from the bottle.

Yeah, this day just got a whole lot worse.