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CHAPTER 29: BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS Part 2: HOT CITY


101st PRECINCT

QUEENS, NY


“I WANT MY PHONE CALL NOW!” Lindsay screamed, as she was ushered- or more accurately, shoved- into the holding cell.


After regaining consciousness, and getting a semi-clean bill of health from the Emergency room staff at New York Hospital in Queens, she was promptly transported to the nearest precinct for processing. The officers were less than gracious in response to Lindsay’s constant whining and demands. Whenever she spoke they would either ignore her or challenge her in such a way where she would have no choice but be quiet. The situation was untenable in her eyes.


“You’ll wait your turn just like everyone else, Ms. Peterson. But I suspect that if you keep it up with that attitude, you’ll be waiting even longer,” Officer Rush informed her, much to her displeasure.


She sneered in his direction, “I want to speak to your superior.”


Instead the fear she hoped for, or the umbrage she also thought he’d take at her tone towards him, he smiled.  “I suppose he’ll be along in a bit. Once again, you’ll have to wait your turn. He’s dealing with far more important matters than your entitlement issues and resulting temper tantrums, little girl.” As Lindsay folded her arms across her chest in a huff, he laughed again, while leaning on the outside of the cell and enjoying the show she was putting on.


She thought about what she hoped to accomplish, and decided to change tactics. No way can I get what I need by acting like Michael! she thought. For years, she’d watched how he was able to control others through his puppy dog eyes and existence then whining people into submission until they eventually capitulated, but none of that was working for her. Even her country club and controlling mannerisms weren’t working the way she expected they would have by now. Her mother’s words and teachings were now becoming the driving force through her psyche as she continued to try and find a way to spin this situation to her advantage.


You always catch more flies with honey, than with vinegar, Lindsay.


Yes! Perhaps reworking her strategy a bit would get her what she wanted, which was to get to her attorney and get her version of the story out there before they could charge her with anything. Okay, so perhaps she shouldn’t have been so tough on Gus, but he deserved it for that smart mouth he’d acquired while being away from her care. Had he stopped trying to channel his father’s innate machismo, she might not have had to teach him the hard lesson he needed to learn: that you can say what you want, but should be careful of the consequences when doing so. As a result of his continued insolence, and the little bit of hurt by the fact that her own son preferred another woman’s care to her presence when he should have only wanted her, she had just lost her temper, and wanted to hurt her son right back. Perhaps this testosterone-laden NYPD officer would understand that. Maybe if she could call up his protective gene in some way, she could get out of this mess.


Softening her voice, and calling up a mix of the little girl lost persona she’d perfected over the years, as well as lacing it with a smidgen of the seductress that often had men willing to do her bidding, Lindsay spoke again breathily. “Office Rush, you have to help me. Please.”


“Do I now?” Officer Rush asked as he looked at her skeptically, but had straightened up in interest of what game she was going to play now. He had been warned that the prisoner Peterson was adaptable, and able to spin just about any situation to her liking. Her ex had pointedly told Commissioner Kelly, who in turn warned him, that she would try to use anything to get her way. He had a feeling he was witnessing one of her many tricks right now.


“Yes, please. I mean, surely you can understand my position.”


“Why not explain it to me? Because from what I can see, you took all of your anger out on a little boy who had nothing to do with your real problems.”


Lindsay sighed, allowing a feeling of forlornness to color the sound. “Are you a father, Officer Rush?”


“Yes. My daughter is now in college. My ex-wife had a drug habit that had gotten the best of her and she passed away. So I’ve been a single dad for more years than I was married."


“Then you understand my plight to a degree. Even though I had a partner, most of Gus’ care during the past six years has been solely my responsibility. As an attorney, Melanie sometimes worked eighty hours a week, and when she WAS home, it seemed that I was nothing more than a glorified housewife. I thought that by having Gus, it would bring us closer together. So I asked my best friend…”


“Brian Taylor-Kinney.”


“KINNEY! His last name is KINNEY!” Lindsay yelled, and then immediately calmed herself. “Brian’s last name is Kinney.”


“Not according to all the reports. He’s as married to Justin Taylor-Kinney as the law will allow them to be, and live together as such. I think the sooner you accept that fact, the better off you’ll be, Ms. Peterson. But do go on with the tale that caused you to put your son in the hospital to have to undergo major surgery.”


Lindsay gasped. “I only hit him a few times.”


“No you didn’t, but go on. I’m waiting to hear how you can justify what you did.”


“My son was being incredibly insolent. He said some really hurtful things; things that I know his father’s whore put into his head. How would you feel if the young boy you nursed- who drank the milk produced from your breasts to provide him life-sustaining nourishment- spoke to you as if you were nothing to him?”


“True, it might have hurt. It might have even had me reevaluating how my actions ultimately affected my child to the point where I’d wonder why he preferred the company of others over me.”


“See! I knew you understood why I lost control of myself.”


“Indeed I do, but only to an extent. Kids have a way of pushing you to your limits. However, that does NOT negate everything else you did before or since you acquired his company. Illegally, I might add.”


“That was all Brian’s whore and Melanie’s doing. But…”


Officer Rush went on as if she hadn’t spoken, tired of listening to her tale of woe. “And because you couldn’t take it when young Gus called you on all your wrongdoings- something that YOU as his PARENT would have had no qualms doing to him- you crossed yet another line.”


“I’m sorry about that!” Lindsay defended herself, not liking that her tactic to get him to identify with her wasn’t working the way she’d hoped. “I’m just under so much stress. What with Connor and Brandon threatening me; my ex-wife defecting, and my best friend…”


“Marrying a MAN who he loves. Yeah, I can see just what kind of stress an attention-seeking, manipulative, controlling, abusive she-wolf such as yourself would be under as you watched all of your carefully-laid plans come crashing down as easily as a house of cards. But that’s the difference between the way an adult handles adversity as opposed to a bratty little girl with the body parts of a woman.”


“I am not…”


“You know, I was prepared not to like you, Peterson. And I still don’t, but I can respect you. You see, we see a lot of criminals here. Some are completely unremorseful about the trauma they have caused their victims. Life has colored them in such a way where their feelings have been deadened due to situations beyond their control. But they often own up to the shit they’ve done. Then there are the other criminals, the ones who either didn’t know what they did was wrong, or feel bad that they did the crime in the first place and are ready to accept punishment. But it’s rare that I have run into someone like you; a person who has an excuse for every single fucked up thing you have done, yet still has the ability to try to make the other person see it from your point of view.


“The funny thing is that you would have made an awesome interrogator within the police department. Your ability to empathize, or garner sympathy for your plight would have criminals singing like the proverbial canary before they even knew they confessed to a crime. However, I’m not the least bit afraid or apologetic to tell you, that your tactic is lost on me and the rest of us here.”


“What the hell are you talking about?!” Lindsay yelled, knowing that she was being passive-aggressively insulted. She’d done that to Brian and Mel enough to recognize the stratagem.


“After going over the case, and bearing witness to what you have done to the most precious gift life gave you- a CHILD- you won’t find even a modicum of the sympathy you’re looking for from anyone here. I have to say, this has been an educational conversation though. I’m going to call my daughter and apologize to her now.”


“What the fuck does that have to do with this?”


“She only wanted to know the other side of her family, and I gave her hell, thinking that the need was about ME and MY NEEDS, not realizing that it was the only way for her to still feel close to the mother she lost. I thought it was about her not appreciating what I had to do to keep her healthy and safe, not understanding that she’s always felt like a part of her was missing. Why am I not enough for you? is what I asked her, and when she tried to reassure me that I was, I shunned her efforts. After meeting you, I know that I owe her a major apology, but unlike you, I won’t squander another opportunity to show my child that I really DO love her.”


With that last statement, he left the red-faced and furious Lindsay Peterson stewing in her cell while screaming epithets and threats at his back. No, he wasn’t going to make the same mistakes that Peterson did, beginning with killing any love his child felt for him.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~SLA~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


DOWN THE HALL

101st PRECINCT

INTERROGATION ROOM


Detective Dave Brown was having a time trying to keep his nerves under control. His fellow officer and step-brother, Lance Martin was M.I.A. at a time when he really didn’t need to be. Very few people knew of their familial connection, which had worked well. He’d intentionally kept his last name separated in the hopes that someday he would become a detective and maybe able to get closer to achieving another goal- one that would give him unlimited access to records often requiring the security clearance he wasn’t yet granted. Consequently, as he’d risen within the ranks, he’d made provisions for Lance to take his place once the position opened up. He should have known better, considering that his step-brother barely concealed his reckless streak and a blatant disregard for certain types of authority, but in a lot of ways, it had paid off down through the years. Unfortunately for Brown, now was not one of those times.


Martin said that he would be back in the precinct hours ago, advising that their mutual friend had arrived in town and he was going to meet him to acquire a package. It shouldn’t have taken this fucking long! They were only supposed to nab Taylor, and get the hell out of the City before it became hot. Whatever Connor James had planned didn’t bode well for anyone, especially considering the fact that Lindsay Peterson and Craig Taylor had been arrested at LaGuardia Airport while intending to hand over her son to the idiot upon Connor’s instructions. With Connor’s arrival here in NYC, the chances of him and Martin continuing to fly under the radar just became next to nil. He didn’t know what any of their colleagues knew, no matter how circumspect Brown had tried to be in his dealings with the men in charge, both within the Department and out of it. The double life he’d been living had killed any ability to trust anyone beyond his step-brother. And even that tenuous thread of emotion was being tested beyond its limits right now.


Every few minutes he’d tried to reach Martin, but to no avail. It wasn’t until the call came in, informing him that Jim Stockwell was murdered, that Brown knew nothing was going to go smoothly for the rest of the night. And with the arrival of the prisoner he was ordered to guard, he was never more sure he was right.


“Problem?” the prisoner asked.


“Nothing that you have to worry about. So sit there and shut the fuck up,” he answered, already pissed off that he was still covering for Lance.


“It’s just… well if you know something about what’s going on, you owe it to me to tell me.”


Brown looked at the contemptible specimen in front of him. Craig Taylor was one of the most loathsome men of his acquaintance. Over the years, he’d been able to gather information on what the situation really was surrounding his situation with Connor and Brandon James. Even now, he was ready to end the fucker’s life just for what the man had done to his own son for a company that had ultimately been taken away from him anyway. If there was anything called Karmic Justice, the fact that Justin Taylor escaped his enforced captivity and now owns Taylor Electronics would have been the epitome of it. If it wasn’t for the money Connor and Brandon paid him, he would have blown the whistle on the whole operation and had Craig and his cronies arrested long since. Now he was sitting here doing a lot more than fearing for his job… he was fearing for his life.


“For the last fucking time, shut up! Because of your greed we’re already facing hot water. Add to that your continued apathy towards your own flesh and blood. The glass house just got a whole fucking boulder thrown through it.”


“What?”


“Stockwell is dead, you moron!” Brown whispered. “Not only that, but Connor James is in town and going after your son.”


“I DON’T HAVE A SON!” Craig’s automatic response caused the Detective to want to draw his gun. But he refrained, having more important things to worry about.


He sat back in his seat. “Whatever thought greases your conscience, pig.”


“I wouldn’t be calling me names if I was you. You know, you have just as much to lose as I do right now.”


“Yes, and no. All I have to do is admit to my part in this mess and why.” At Craig’s gasp, Brown smiled, knowing his threat just hit its mark.


“You have no proof of any of that!”


“You sure I don’t?” Brown challenged, making it clear to Craig that he knew absolutely nothing about what he may or may not have had. He’d known that there was a journal, which Brandon James kept, but he had no idea what was written in it. Now whether it contained names, dates, places, sales, or a list of every officer and official nationwide on their payrolls, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that in the wrong hands, they would all go down. And Craig Taylor was well-aware of that fact, too. He smiled nastily, continuing his statement, “I may have to do time for some of the things I’ve done, and I’ll probably be stripped of my career, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re facing.”


Before Craig could utter a word in response, Commissioner Kelly came into the room. “Brown, a word.”


Brown could feel the anxiety assailing him, even as he looked smugly back at Craig Taylor’s flushed face. “Yes, Commissioner?”


“Did he buy it?”


“You saw him. He should be renamed Casper, so yeah, he did.”


“Good. The sooner he starts singing, the better it will be and we’ll have an even better idea of who needs to be arrested, with or without the journal currently in Justin Taylor-Kinney’s possession. Now, where’s Martin?”


“Commissioner Kelly, I…”


“I already know, Dave,” he said quietly. “And I know why you’re involved in this, although no one else does. I’ll try and put in a word for you with Internal Affairs, but I can’t promise you anything. Martin is in this too deep now to be pulled out; he could have arrested James and called for backup long before now. That tells me that your step-brother is in this for purely selfish reasons that have nothing to do with your original plans. But you… well, yours is a different set of circumstances altogether. The fact is that you have broken the law, and engaged in an attempt at vigilante justice even though you have a whole department at your disposal. Your mom and sister could be anywhere, and even with you sticking close to the James Brothers and Stockwell, there hasn’t been a sign of them for quite a few years. If it helps any, maybe Peterson or Taylor in there will crack and give up the information, but in the meantime, Connor now has Justin and Seven in his possession. We’ve got to get to them NOW.”


Brown sighed. “They are at the airport within one of the private hangars. Now, I understand the reason he wasn’t able to get a hold of the man, but James has been trying to reach out to Stockwell for use of his private plane. I would imagine that Brandon and Connor have theirs out on loan, although I’m not sure who has it at the moment. Stockwell shares the hangar with Ted and Marvin Telson, of Telson Tires. ”


“Martin’s not answering?”


“No, he isn’t. The phone keeps going to voicemail.”


“Well you tried to warn him that we’re looking for the captives, and you have to accept that now. Can you?”


Brown dropped his eyes before answering. He was fighting back tears that he would have to let his step-brother pay the price this time. Many times over the years, even while accepting the money that Connor and Brandon had paid them, he’d tried to warn Lance about buying into their bullshit and forgetting their real purpose. Even though he’d done many things- like removing complaints from the system when Russo ordered them to, or making reports of assaults and missing persons reports go missing altogether, and falsifying records to make a situation fit the narrative where the victims came off as the instigators to cover up the rapes- he’d still tried to keep at least a modicum of his integrity, never forgetting that he was looking for his family. Lance became dazzled by the money and by the thought of guarding the ‘public hero’ that Connor only portrayed on the big screen, never realizing that the man was a danger to them.


He cleared his throat before answering the Commissioner. “I don’t have a choice now. Lance took that option out of my hands by not answering his phone. I just don’t know how my step-father is going to view this: as my inaction, or as his son’s naivety? Either way, somehow it’s going to be my fault that Lance ended up in this mess. He may love and miss his wife and my sister, but Lance is his flesh and blood. I can’t say that if it were me I wouldn’t want to hold someone else responsible, either.”


His boss nodded, acknowledging that he understood the difficult position Brown was in. “Any idea where James planned to take them?”


“Could be anywhere, but I would imagine that it’s either Venezuela, Switzerland, or Armenia. All three countries don’t have extradition treaties with the U.S., and the James Brothers own houses in all three countries, although they aren’t registered in their names. They are in the name of their attorney, William Frost.”


“Make yourself useful, and find out where he is,” Commissioner Kelly said, all business again. “I need to get to the airport. For what it’s worth, I’ll try to bring Martin in, unharmed. But…”


“I know. You can’t promise anything,” Brown said. “If Lance chooses to fight, there isn’t much you can do. I accept that.”


Before either had a chance to say anything else, there was a commotion at the front desk. “I don’t care how busy he is, I NEED TO SEE HIM NOW!” The woman screamed.


Both heading in the direction of the screech, Brown and Kelly practically ran down the hall, but for different reasons; one because it was his job, but the other because he knew that voice.


“Ma’am, you need to calm down. You need medical attention,” the Front Desk Sergeant tried to advise, but was cut off by the hysterical woman.


“I’ll get it later. I… I…”


“Ma’am…”


“Mom…” Brown whispered. He looked at the woman, barely recognizable covered in bruises and the emaciation of an already thin frame. “Where…”


“Dave?” She whispered, turning around. “OH MY GOD, SON! David! I… I thought I would never see you again.”


“Jessica?”


He followed the shifting of her eyes to the small frame huddled in a corner of the precinct. The young girl was in just as bad shape as the woman before him. It had been eleven years since they both had disappeared without a trace, after attending a function at the Telson mansion. It was the first place he’d gone to look when they hadn’t returned home that night. Whereas his mother was still of slight stature, he could see that his sister- nineteen years old now- was taller than he remembered, but not quite as tall as him and his father were.

 

“Where?” he asked again, as he brought his eyes back to the woman who was the reason he became a police officer in the first place.


“All over. But we escaped five days ago and walked here from Rush, one of the surrounding suburbs of Rochester. The area is partially rural, but that worked to our advantage. Telson has a secluded mansion up there. We stuck… we stuck to the woods, never knowing where and when he would turn up. He probably didn’t think we could get very far but…”


“We need to get you medical attention, Mom, and then you need to file an official statement. He… he won’t get away with this.”


“Russo…”


“Is in jail.”


“Taylor…”


“Mrs. Martin, I’m Commissioner Kelly. I’ll have Detective Brown take you to the hospital now. Afterwards…”


“NO! I need to tell you NOW! Justin Taylor is in danger! I heard Ted talking, which is why we made a run for it as soon as we could. He’s not just planning to reclaim Justin, but made plans with Connor to… to…”


“Do you know where Ted Telson is now?”


“I don’t know. He was arranging some kind of meeting, and said that he was going to meet up with James Stockwell on the way back. I don’t… I don’t…”


“I understand. Do you have any idea who the meeting was with?”


“Some senator.”


“Any chance the name was Alex Johnson?”


“YES! That’s it. There was also talk about some woman, Lynette something… and another woman named Lindsay! You… you have to get to him! I know he escaped and that Connor… that Connor has intentions of…”


“We have an idea, and I promise that we will get to him in time,” Commissioner Kelly assured the distraught woman. “Go with your son. If it helps any, we have an idea where Connor is hiding Justin.”


“Please. You have to hurry. Ted… Telson is on his way, and if he gets Justin again, you won’t get him back. They won’t let him escape again. In fact, they have no intentions of letting him see American soil again. They were planning the same for Jessica when she continued to fight them. No matter what they did to her, she continued to fight and plan. Please, you have to get to him before they have a chance to get him airbourne.”


The Front Desk Sergeant had taken the initiative to call in the EMTs, noting the exhaustion of the two women. The younger one had collapsed several times before she even made it to the chair she now sat it. He couldn’t imagine what they had been through that would cause them to walk about one hundred hours through however many dangers, both seen and unseen, just to escape a hell not of their own making. “Commissioner?”

 

“Yes, Vaughn. It’s time to flood this borough with Blue. Close everything. No one gets in… or OUT!

 

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