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Chapter 14 - Statements.

 

I pulled the new Honda up to the curb in front of Kinnetik and put it into park. “You’re sure about this? I could drop you off at the loft instead.”

 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Brian dismissed my worries as he retrieved his briefcase out of the back seat and then leaned over to kiss his chauffeur goodbye. “I need to at least check in at work every so often to make sure Ted and Cynthia haven’t bankrupted me. Besides, there’s a meeting with one of Kinnetik’s VIP clients later today which I really should be at . . .”

 

“Fine,” I cut him off. “But call me if it gets to be too much and you want to go home. I can take a break from work and come get you.”

 

“I’ll be fine, you big mother hen,” he replied and rolled his eyes at my overprotectiveness. "Call me when you get off and I'll meet you at the Diner so we can make sure to sate your stomach monster."

 

“Deal.”


“Later,” he drawled.


“Later,” I echoed as he shut the door and headed towards the building. 


I wished I didn’t have such a bad feeling about leaving him on his own for a full day at work. I knew it was silly; Brian was a big boy and could take care of himself. He’d be fine on his own for a few hours, right? The foreboding I was fighting against was probably just a projection of my own fears and my regret at having to leave our refuge after such an amazing weekend

 

We had enjoyed three glorious days of escape at Britin. I’d had Sunday and Monday off work so we’d just spent the rest of the weekend hiding out in the house together. I’d painted pictures while Brian painted rooms. I’d cooked some amazing meals that Brian actually ate without complaining about all the carbs. We’d made love, walked in the woods that backed up on the estate grounds, slept, and lounged around like big lazy cats. We’d even shut off our computers and ignored our phones so that nothing could intrude on our idyll. It had been wonderful. 


But now it was Tuesday morning and I had to go back to work.


While lying in bed after my alarm went off that morning, I’d finally confessed to Brian about my secret job. I had expected him to be a little pissed off at me for all my behind-the-scenes machinations but, surprising me again, Brian was quietly supportive. He admitted to being not at all surprised about how sneaky his former stalker was. 


We’d decided to drive into town together and I’d won the discussion about which car to drive by begging to be allowed to show off my new Honda. Brian laughed at my antics and caved in easily. He seemed to be feeling much better after our weekend away; he’d finally got some sleep, ate some real meals, and hadn’t had one nightmare the whole time. We were both feeling happy and relaxed as we drove into town, making plans about going out to the Diner and Woody’s after work and then returning to Britin again that night.


But, even as I watched Brian opening the door to the former bath house and going inside, I felt this kernel of dread throbbing away in the pit of my stomach. 

 

It had been a great, relaxing weekend and Brian was acting much more like himself than he had in weeks. That part was reassuring. But we still hadn’t dealt with any of the shit that had sent him around the bend to begin with. We hadn’t talked about Langley or the man’s arrest or the abuse or any of it. Brian was acting as if none of that had ever happened. And, while I was glad he was feeling better and had finally gotten some sleep, I knew that ignoring the problem wasn’t going to make it go away. 

 



I should probably take up telling fortunes and doing Tarot readings in the pub along with Mysterious Marilyn seeing as my premonitions were so spot on.


It turned out I’d been right to be worried about Brian as I’d driven away from Kinnetik that morning. When I’d called to talk to Brian during my afternoon break, an almost frantic Cynthia had informed me that Detective Horvath had come by just after lunch and escorted Brian out of the building. Kinnetik was buzzing with rumors about what was going on and half the staff believed that Brian had been arrested for something. Apparently Brian still hadn’t got around to telling Cynthia or Ted exactly why he’d taken all the unplanned vacation time over the past several weeks so speculation was already running rampant before the addition of a police officer coming to the office. Now, the staff were outright freaking out. Poor Cynthia. I promised to update her as soon as I found out what was going on myself and then hung up so I could go find my man.


“I need to speak to Carl Horvath right away,” I demanded of the fresh-faced young officer who intercepted me as I ran into the station ten minutes later. 


“I’m sorry, Detective Horvath is in a meeting at the moment,” I was informed by the Noob.


“Yeah, I know. It’s my partner he’s meeting with and I need to be in there with them,” I insisted, trying to brush past him so I could get to where Brian was.


Noobie stopped me with a hand to my shoulder as he tried to maneuver me towards one of the chairs set up in the entryway waiting area. “Sir. If you’ll just take a seat for a minute, I’ll call the detective and let him know you’re here.”


Since Noobie was wearing a gun, and looking at me as if he might be justified in pulling it out of its holster, I let him deposit me in a chair. Then he went back to his desk and picked up the phone. I told him my name, watching as he dialed and then informed whoever answered that ‘Mr. Justin Taylor’ was waiting to speak to Horvath. 

 

“Someone will be out to speak to you in just a minute, Sir,” Noobs told me after hanging up his phone. 

 

Then I waited for way longer than I felt appropriate. Fuckers. I knew when I was being ignored and I didn’t care much for the experience. So, the second Noobs got called away from his desk, I vaulted off that damn waiting chair and sprinted through the station to where I knew Horvath’s office was located. Carl headed me off halfway there, though, coming out of another room and closing the door behind him.


“You needed to see me, Taylor?” He greeted me with feigned stupidity and gestured with pretend politeness towards his office. 


I let him usher me into the tiny room, holding back the explosion of my anger until he’d closed the door behind us. 


“You can’t just drag Brian out of his place of work and tow him down here like this,” I accused. “Everyone at work thinks you’re arresting HIM. It’s going to get back to his friends and possibly even to his clients. I thought you said you’d do everything in your power to protect his identity? So how is this protecting him?”


Carl sighed and shook his head. “It wasn’t like that, son. I just stopped in to try and persuade Brian to finally come give his full statement. We’d been trying to get a hold of you two all weekend to follow up but neither of you returned my calls. This was the first opportunity I had to talk to him so I . . . Made the best of it.”


“I took Brian out of town for the weekend and we turned our phones off,” I admitted. “He’s been a fucking mess, Carl. He can’t sleep. He gets woken up a half dozen times a night by horrific nightmares. We just needed to get out of here and get a break.”


“I can understand that,” Horvath replied, sounding understanding but resolute. “But we can’t move forward on the charges against Langley without Brian’s statement and he’s had more than enough time to come in voluntarily.” I started to object again but Carl cut me off. “Langley was arraigned over the weekend and, of course, got out on $250,000 bail. We have a limited amount of time to firm up our case and file pre-trial motions before discovery starts. If we don’t have Brian’s statement before then, Langley’s going to file a motion to dismiss and he’ll probably win. So it’s now or never, Taylor.”


“Fine. But you should have warned me before you dragged Brian down here for questioning. I need to be with him.”

 

“Kinney’s an adult. He doesn’t need you to hold his hand,” Carl scoffed, which just pissed me off even more. The detective must have noticed the sparks of rage darting from my eyes because he immediately changed his tone to a more conciliatory note. “You can’t give his testimony for him, Son. And, anyways, we need the unvarnished truth, which is sometimes hard for people to relate when loved ones are sitting there listening in. Trust me, this will go smoother for everyone if you aren’t around when we question him.” 

 

 

“You’re wrong, Carl. I need to be there. You have no fucking idea how fragile Brian really is. He’s barely hanging on. He can’t even talk about what happened to ME and you think he’ll bare his soul to you? Damn it, Carl. He hasn’t let on to anyone what’s going on behind the scenes; he’s basically just walked away from his business, that’s how bad it is. And now you’re just going to mine his brain, refreshing all those painful memories, and you think he’ll be fine afterwards? Well, fuck that.” 

 

I tried to push past him so I could get out of the office but his big, firm hands on my shoulders held me back. “I’m sorry, Taylor, but I can’t let you be in this interview. Besides the fact that I think it would be a bad idea, it’s against policy. You’re going to have to sit this one out.”

 

 

“Please, Carl?” I figured I wasn’t above begging if it got me to Brian. “You don’t understand. He’s a fucking, fall down mess. The nightmares all this is causing are almost crippling and you forcing him to talk when he isn’t ready is going to kill him.”

 

“I know it might feel like that, son,” Carl tried to be reassuring, all the while trying to get me to sit down in one of his office chairs. “But maybe talking about it will help? It’s got to be better than reliving it in his nightmares, right?” I shrugged. "Either way, I think it's time that we pressed him to get it all out. If he is having night mares, after repressing the memories for who knows how many years, it means he’s remembering more and we need every scintilla of whatever he can recall if we want to take down Langley for good. So, I’m sorry, Taylor, but we need to do this and we need to do it now.”

 

 

I slumped defeatedly in my chair. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to convince him to take it easy on Brian. And, who knew? Maybe talking about it would help a little? I sincerely doubted that presumption but, since there wasn’t anything I could do about it, arguing further seemed futile. 

 

“Tell you what,” Carl offered, moving towards the door. “If it will make you feel better, you can hang out here in my office until we’re done talking with Kinney. If anything goes pear-shaped we’ll come get you. But I promise, Taylor, Agent Bridges and I have both been on the job for a long time. We know what we’re doing; we’ll do our best to help Brian through it. And then, provided his statement helps us to put Langley away for good, Brian and all the other boys that creep hurt will ALL be able to sleep better.”  

 

Carl left me there in his office, cooling my heels, for what felt like forever. If I leaned forward, because of where the chair I was sitting in was located, I could just barely see around the doorjamb and get a glimpse of the interrogation room where they were questioning Brian. Watching the door of that room only made me more anxious, though, so I mostly didn’t bother. I just huddled in my chair in Carl’s tiny, airless office, and silently freaked out inside my own head for fuck knew how long. 


Eventually I gave up and pulled a sketch pad out of my bag so I could at least while away the time doodling as I waited for them to finish destroying my boyfriend. I was working on a sketch of Brian getting out of the tub in the sea glass green bathroom, all soapy and dripping, when my attention was sapped away by the sound of violent whispering happening just outside Carl’s office door. At first I hadn’t paid it too much mind, dismissing the whispering along with all the other random office noises that had passed by the office while I was waiting. Then I realized I recognized one of the voices as that of Coach Wade Langley and I was suddenly quite interested in what the voices were saying. 


I leaned forward again, allowing myself to peek out into the hallway and confirmed, yes, it was none other than the creepy coach himself out there. Langley was dressed to the nines in a designer suit - Brian would have instantly known which designer but I usually couldn’t be bothered with that kind of shit - and was busy arguing with another, younger man, who was wearing a suit that wasn’t quite as nice. Judging by what they were saying, I assumed the second suit was Langley’s lawyer. 


“No, Patterson! This is just ridiculous! I’m not going to listen to their bullshit plea offers. No fucking way!” Langley hissed.


“Listen, Wade, you’re facing some serious charges here,” the lawyer responded patiently. “The penalty for mere possession of child pornography is ten years and distribution gets you another five PER PICTURE! On top of that, they’re alleging sexual exploitation of a minor, not to mention the state law claims for child sexual abuse. Most of those crimes are strict liability, which means the DA doesn’t even have to prove intent; all they have to show is that you had those pictures on your computer and you’re done for. Do you really want to go through a long, drawn out court battle, with your name smeared all over the nightly news, just to get the same - or worse - outcome than they’re offering now? Come on, Wade. You’ve got to at least consider taking a plea.”


“No fucking way,” Langley angrily griped at his mouthpiece. “Those charges are all blown out of proportion. I’m not pleading guilty to that shit. Especially not if they’re going to ask me to turn on my friends as part of the deal. I don’t care what the DA says. It’s only a few dirty pictures anyway. They can’t prove that I did anything other than look at the damn things and, maybe, share them with a friend or two. I’m hardly some kingpin of the porn industry for fuck sake.”


“They say they have the proof you were distributing . . .”

 

“They’re bluffing,” Langley cut him off. “If they had that kind of proof I wouldn’t be out on bail. What I really want to know, though, is where they’re getting the other shit? All that crap about child abuse? They couldn’t possibly have evidence tying me to that. So where’s all that coming from after all these years, huh? If I find the lowlife who’s accusing me of that crap, I can promise you he won’t like the consequences. And if it’s coming from any of my so-called friends, I want to know who. I’ve got a ton more crap on all of them than they could ever have on me and they know it. If anyone thinks they can mess with me, they better think again.”

 

“I’m meeting with the DA again later this week to discuss preliminary matters,” the lawyer said. “I’ll ask then but, depending on who’s making the claims, I might not get an actual name. There are shield laws protecting abuse victims, particularly if they’re minors . . .”


“Fuck that, Patterson!” Langley blew up again, forgetting to modulate his voice for a moment. “I want names, damn it! I deserve to know who’s making these allegations against me.” Several heads turned to look their way after that outburst, causing Langley to lower his voice again. “Trust me, none of my boys would turn on me like that. They know better. And most of my friends know better too. Whoever it was has to have a death wish . . .” 


“Stop. Do not threaten a witness in front of your lawyer or you’ll be without a lawyer faster than you can say ‘disbarment’,” Patterson warned his client. 


“Just find out who is making these claims,” Langley repeated unabashedly. “Once I know who it is that I’m up against, and what dirt I have to trade on them, maybe then we can discuss a plea deal.” 


The two men turned to leave. I realized I was shaking with anger and fear. I poked my head out the doorway long enough to confirm that Langley and his lawyer were out of sight before rushing off to find Horvath so I could relate what I’d overheard. I didn’t bother to knock before bursting through the door I’d watched Horvath go through what felt like hours earlier. Inside, I found Brian sitting across the table from Carl and Terry Bridges looking like he was about to crawl out of his skin.


“I told you, Carl,” Brian was explaining as I barreled into the room. “I don’t remember that much and what I do remember, it’s like it happened to someone else. It’s all a blur. What you’re telling me . . . I can see it but only after you tell me about it. I don’t know anything more. I don’t know anything. That wasn’t ME. That was Buddy.”


Brian pushed away a stack of photos the cops had printed out and I caught a glimpse of the horrors they depicted. I could see that the pictures showed a small boy being forced to have sex with an adult man. It was pretty graphic and, even from across the room, it was clear what happened there. I cringed but didn’t know what to say or even whether I should acknowledge what I’d seen. Maybe pretending ignorance would be the better approach? Luckily, Carl interrupted my spiraling thoughts, by turning his attention to where I was standing in the open doorway and asking what I was doing.


“I thought I told you to wait in my office, Taylor?”


I shot an apologetic grimace to my partner and then turned my attention back to Horvath. “I need to talk to you. Now, please. It’s important, Carl.”


Carl and Bridges did this nonverbal communication thing and eventually Terry nodded dismissively. Carl got up and strode towards me. I left Brian with a sad smile, hoping that he could feel how much I loved and supported him in that small gesture. Then I followed Horvath back to his office.


Once the door was closed, I told him what I’d overheard between Langley and his lawyer. Carl’s expression was guarded. I couldn’t tell if he was surprised by what I’d related or angry or what. All he did was nod and then, when I was done, thank me for telling him. 


“That’s it? You’re not going to do anything? That creep Langley is threatening to go after the witnesses and you’re not going to do anything to stop him?” I growled, so angry that I kicked my messenger bag halfway across the room.


Carl sighed and gave me a condescending smile. “As I told you and Kinney before, while we’ll try to protect Brian and the other witnesses as long as possible, a defendant is entitled by law to see all the evidence against him. Eventually, Langley will be shown the pictures that formed the basis for the search warrants leading to his arrest and given a list of all the prosecution’s witnesses. Both Brian’s name as well as your’s, Taylor, will be on that list and, even though the police are required by law to withhold witnesses’ personal contact information, there’s nothing to stop the defense from contacting them if they can locate the witnesses in some other way.” 


“Meaning that it’s highly likely Langley’s attorney will be able to figure out how to reach a fairly public figure like Brian Kinney, the owner and CEO of a well-known advertising firm,” I concluded for him. 


“Unfortunately,” Horvath admitted. “But if he harrasses either of you, let me know and we can get restraining orders against him or, if worse comes to worst, assign some protection to you.”


“And in the meantime Langley will be free to attack Brian and me publicly, maybe even destroy Brian’s business? Fuck that,” I moaned angrily. 


Since Carl didn’t have any response that would reassure me, he wisely stayed silent. And I, concluding that the rules were fucked up anyway, decided that I shouldn’t have to respect them any more than a criminal like Langley would. So, without bothering to listen to any more of Horvath’s empty platitudes or regurgitations about policy, I strode back to the room where Bridges was continuing to grill my partner, let myself in, and sat down in the seat next to Brian. Fuck the police and all their useless promises to protect us. I wasn’t going anywhere as long as Brian was still struggling through finishing his statement. 

 

Chapter End Notes:

7/19/21 - Okay, back to the torture... Enjoy! TAG

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