Chapter 9: Father's Promise
Nate was on a warpath in the early morning hours. His colleagues were starting to filter in through the front doors to their duty stations. Something about the look on Nate's face told them to stay away. A few started to say good morning, ask about Stephanie or Cassie, or comment on how he looked tired. Those few were ignored. Nate had a one-track mind.
He made his way to his desk in the bullpen, currently cleared for the first time in his time as a detective. In his leave of absence, the other detectives had taken over his cases sufficiently enough. A few forms sat in-tray on his desk, but they could wait for a while longer.
Nate's eyes fell on the top drawer of his desk which he quickly ripped open, shuffling the contents within. The drawer was full of spare office supplies (pens, notepads, paper clips, etc.…) sorted efficiently into an organizer, an early gift from Stephanie who claimed he was the most disorganized man she had ever met. In the back left corner of the drawer was a small cigarette carton, gone stale now as it had not been touched in months. He flipped open the lid and heaved a heavy sigh looking at the near-full carton.
He pulled one of the cigarettes out and tossed the carton on his desk. The carton landed next to a framed picture, one that made him throw the cigarette in the garbage can under the desk. The picture was taken only a month ago, the day he and Stephanie had brought Cassie home with them. Taken by Stephanie's mother, Stephanie was sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, holding Cassie in her arms. Nate kneeled next to them, looking down at the infant with a soft smile.
Nate sat and took the picture in his hands, looking down at his family. He felt the anger fade easier than the relief that Nicotine had always given him. He placed the frame back on his desk where any who would ask him for a picture of Cassie to admire can take a free look. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and listened to the buzz of the bullpen. He wished he were back home, helping Stephanie care for their daughter. Cassie would be waking up about now, hungry.
"Welcome back, Nate," A familiar, gruff voice said. Nate opened an eye to look up at his captain. A long career in police work had not been kind to the middle-aged man standing over him. He was fit, but his shirt and suit jacket were starting to appear a little tight around the middle. His once red hair had since faded to a dull grey. His grey eyes scrutinized Nate, making him feel as if he were under a microscope. "Rough night?"
Nate groaned and stood. "Potential triple murder, suspect in custody."
Captain Ralph Coughlin nodded slowly. "Walk with me, son. You can brief me on the way." He patted Nate on the shoulder, and they walked. Nate told him in no short detail about the night's events. From the house covered in blood, but devoid of bodies, to the Private Investigator who intruded on the crime scene.
Their walk concluded in the captain's office. Coughlin slung his coat on a hook hanging from the wall. "You said his name is Carson?"
Nate nodded. "Yes, sir."
Coughlin sat at his desk, folding his hands on its mahogany surface. "What did he find at the scene?"
Nate paused. "H-He didn't say, sir."
"One of the most prolific private investigators in the country didn't say what he found?" The captain gave him a scrutinizing look again. "Or you refused to listen?"
"Sir?" Nate was confused. "Do you know this man?"
Coughlin smirked. "You don't?" He stood and walked over to a large filing cabinet in the corner of his office. He pulled open the top drawer, flicked through the folders until he found the one he was looking for. Coughlin sat again and pushed the folder over to Nate.
The detective flipped open the folder and started sifting through its contents. They were news clippings, most of them. Most were printed from the web; some were from local papers. The oldest being from a few years ago, talking about how the French Ambassador's daughter was returned. All the articles mentioned in some capacity an external investigator who aided the police efforts.
"Are these all–"
"Talking about the man you currently have in custody?" Coughlin interjected. "Yes."
Nate skimmed through the articles. "None of them mention him by name."
Coughlin chuckled. "He never talks to the press, ever. He remains under-the-radar. His cases are strictly referral only, or he wanders into an interesting case and decides to aid the local police."
"You talk like you know him," Nate said.
The captain nodded. "I've had the opportunity to work with him a couple of times. I've kept up with his career since then, finding interesting articles that match his M.O." The captain looked down at the folder. "What brings him back to the area, I wonder."
"The Jess Payton Case, sir," Nate said.
"Ah," Coughlin said, flipping through the clippings as well now. "That one is just interesting enough for him to take. That's your case if I remember right."
Nate looked up at him, suddenly dreading where the conversation was heading. "Yes, sir."
The phone ringing saved Nate, a sharp sound to indicate the intercom system. Coughlin hit the speaker button.
"Sorry to interrupt you, Captain," Darcy, the desk sergeant, spoke through the speaker, "Detective Ryan has a visitor."
Nate looked down at the phone, surprised. "Did they give a name?"
"No, sir," Darcy said, hesitantly.
Nate paused, looking at the Captain. Coughlin was smirking, which concerned Nate. "Can you get a name?" The Captain asked.
"Sir, she's already on her way to your office."
The captain chuckled. "Thank you, Darcy." He disconnected the call.
"Sir?" Nate watched the captain as he stood and walked to the door. Coughlin looked out the large windows separating his office from the bullpen. He turned his head and opened the door.
"When I heard he was in custody, I was wondering how far behind you were." The Captain said to someone just out of Nate's view. It was only a moment later that his visitor appeared. She was a woman in her mid-to-late twenties. She walked with her head held high and a bright smile stretching from ear to ear. Her pale blonde hair fell in delicate ringlets past her shoulders. She was dressed for a runway, in a knee-length dress and tailored jacket paired with three-inch stiletto heels. Her grey eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light of the police station. She walked up and gave the captain a hug.
"Ralphie, how are you?" She spoke with a hint of a French accent that she was trying to hide. She turned away from him before he could answer. "Is this Detective Ryan?"
Coughlin held his arm out and beckoned her inside. She stepped inside, her footsteps barely making a sound. She extended her hand toward Nate with a kind smile. "My name is Selene Arquette. I believe you are familiar with my partner, Elliot Carson."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone