Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 19
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 19
Morgan met Henry on the sidewalk as they were about to enter the precinct at the start of another day. Her deli coffee was still piping hot and she sipped it quietly as she waited for him to cover the final few feet to reach her. “Hey. How are Suzie and the kids?”
“You know, a nuthouse, as usual. I was in the bathroom trying to get ready for work when the kids suddenly decided that it was a perfect time to show me all their finger paintings they did yesterday.”
“Heh.”
“What?”
“You gonna come and see my finger paintings?”
"Big threat there."
"You might be surprised."
He gave her a wry smile. “Oh, yeah. It’s that lesbian thing, right?”
“You may be right.” They ascended the stairs, Henry being the gentleman and opening the huge wooden door to the foyer. “Hey, Clarence!”
The older desk sergeant sat hunched over his paperwork, looking up through horn-rimmed glasses. “Hi Henry, Morgan. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. How’s the grandkids?”
“Keeping me young, Morgan, keeping me young.”
“Good to hear, Clarence. Catch you later.”
The squad room was quiet, a spattering of officers left over from the night shift were congregated around the coffee maker waiting for the shift change. After the obligatory ‘good mornings’ the sergeant headed to her desk, plopping herself down in her well worn chair. Something wasn’t right.
“Henry! C’mere for a minute.”
“What’s up?” She pointed to her desk drawer which was sitting slightly ajar. Nervously, her hand slid to the handle, her eyes glancing to her partner in apprehension as she slowly pulled it open. Peering inside, Morgan wasn’t sure what to expect. A bomb? A threatening letter? A dead rat?
“That bastard,” she muttered. Sitting in the middle of the drawer was a small plastic packet filled with what she suspected was highly illegal.
“He ain’t being very subtle, is he?” Henry was not surprised in the least.
“You can say that again.” She looked around the room as she contemplated her next move. “Take it.”
“What?”
“Take it.”
“I’m not taking it.”
“Put it in his desk, Henry. I’m not asking you to shoot up.” She gave the wiry Asian an exasperated look. Despite her annoyance, she was tempted to laugh as she watched him get a tissue and pick up the packet like it was uranium. “You scared of catching germs or something?”
He glared menacingly at her. “Don’t you ever ask me to do this again.”
“Hey, I’m not asking you to give blood here.”
“That I can do. I just don’t like being involved in underhanded stuff.”
“I didn’t start this, Henry. He’s gonna come through that door any second now and accuse me of... whatever the hell it is. If I've never touched it, it'll help me keep a straighter face! Work with me here! You know I'm a lousy liar!" Morgan hissed at him.
“And that leaves me standing here holdin' the bag like an idiot?”
“Not if you’re quick enough. Hurry up.” Henry strolled the few feet to Morelli’s desk, gently sliding open the drawer and distastefully placing the bag inside. Morgan watched the detectives at the far end of the room, pleased to see no one seemed interested in what was going on at their end.
"Ohhhh, you are soooo gonna owe me, Big Red!"
“You are such a baby. Now, sit down.”
They didn’t have long to wait long before the Musketeers strolled in. “Do you think they shower together too?” Morgan was disgusted that Morelli had the nerve to preach to her about moral ethics, leaving her wondering if the three of them slept in the same bed.
Henry snickered, his mind thinking exactly the same thing. “They were probably all joined at birth. You know, like a really ugly set of Siamese triplets.”
As they approached she called out, “Good morning, gentlemen!”
Under his breath Morelli replied, “Bitch…”
“Charming.” Morgan looked at Henry and shrugged her shoulders. It seemed nothing was going to please the man short of her resignation. He could just go to hell. “Let’s get some work done.”
* * *
The morning was intense, not only with the case but also waiting for Morelli to make his big move. Besides one quick trip to the corner deli Morgan was tied to her desk with the phone glued to her ear all morning. Work progressed slowly and the time had come that Morgan had to face Morelli for information. Maybe she should just send Henry. She looked over at her partner and saw his sunny little smile. Nah… she couldn’t subject him to that amount of aggravation. Her policy was ‘don’t pass the buck if you can do it yourself’.
She shifted her chair back, her arm bracing the table in anticipation of the battle to come. Henry looked up at her and they exchanged knowing looks. “God, I hate this…,” she muttered.
Morgan drew herself to her full height, trying to place herself in that part of her mind that was the sergeant. She strode over to the detective’s desk with authority, looking down at him with some intimidation.
“Yeah? What do you want? It can’t be me, I’m the wrong sex.”
“Morelli, cut the crap, will ya. Where are the follow-up financial statements for Vaughan’s wife I asked you for?”
“Now let’s see… did I do 'em? You seen 'em, Fredericks?” His two cohorts snickered in response.
“Don’t start with me, pal…”
“I ain’t your pal!” he bellowed, standing head to chest with the woman. “You know, I’m getting really sick of this bullshit. Why don’t you just go and get hit by a train or somethin’? Do us all a favor.”
“Now, hang on…” Henry was out of his chair in a split second, standing at Morgan’s side before she could blink.
“Grow up, Morelli. I ain’t goin’ nowhere, so just get used to it.” She glared at him, seeing an answering blaze from those dark eyes, his eyebrows knitted together in rage. “You want a piece of me? Huh?” She taunted him. “With this broken arm it may be the best chance you’ll ever have.”
“That ain’t much of a challenge…” He sized her up, estimating his chances of taking her down.
“More like too much I think. The only way you can handle a woman is unconscious and submissive. That’s about your level, isn’t it Francis?”
“I don’t need them unconscious, O’Callaghan. They just fall all over me. So there must be somethin’ wrong with you.”
“No Morelli, that’s not it. I’m just too much of a woman for you. See, I can say ‘no’ and mean it.”
“It least I’m batting for the right team, you freak.”
“You know, that argument is getting pretty old, Morelli. Can’t you come up with something more original?”
"It's the truth and everybody knows it!"
“The truth is up your ass, pal.”
“I told you not to call me ‘pal’. I ain’t your pal and I never gonna be your pal.”
“Once an idiot, always an idiot.” She anticipated the shove, allowing her body to go with the push. “Well, well, well. Striking a superior.”
“You? Superior? That’s a laugh!” Morelli was slowly losing it. “If I had you out in the alley…,” he spat out quietly.
“If you had me out in the alley, Detective, you’d be lying on the ground. Don’t you dare threaten me you…. you pissant!”
Morgan turned her attention to Lowenstein. “You’re not going to give me trouble now, are you?” The lanky detective shook his head in disbelief, shuffling quickly through the papers on Morelli’s desk.
“Stop! What are you doing that for?”
“I wanna keep my job, Frankie.”
“You're a friggin' coward!”
“Sorry, Frank. I got a wife and kids at home.”
Morgan snatched the papers out of Lowenstein’s hand. “That’s two points for you Lowenstein.”
As soon as Morgan had turned her back Morelli took a swing at her, the punch whistling through thin air as the sergeant ducked out of the way.
“What the fuck is going on here? I know I am not seeing two of my detectives fighting in my squad room. What? They bring back Candid Camera or something?” But he was not laughing. His expression was deadly serious, a scowl taking up residence on his lips.
“It was a one-sided fight, Captain.”
“Are you the bitch’s puppy now, Chang?” Morelli was beet red with anger.
“Morelli! You owe Detective Chang an apology.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“Morelli! Don’t make this any worse for yourself than it already is.”
“Worse than it already is? I’m havin' to work for a freakin' queer here! What the hell is worse than that?!”
“Sergeant, do you want to press charges?”
Morgan studied Morelli, wondering if such an action would make things worse. “The detective is leaving me no choice, Captain.” She faced her attacker, watching him move surreptitiously towards her desk.
"Yeah, well, I wanna make a complaint too! Harassment. She has been harassing me, Captain.”
“Harassment? Morelli, you gotta be ki.....”
But Morgan could see where he was heading. “No, no no... let him make his claim. In fact, Morelli, why don’t you sit down at my desk and make at call to the union?”
She knew what Markham’s face would show so she didn’t dare look. He would be ordering straight jackets for the both of them. What he didn’t know was that she had a surprise for the nasty little detective.
Morelli's grin was almost feral. Sit at my desk and make the call? How much easier could this get? Stupid fuckin' dyke. Making a show of trying to find a pen, Morelli slid open Morgan’s top drawer of her desk. “Hey! What the hell is this?” He could barely keep his enthusiasm in check as he held up a small plastic bag with white powder inside. “Unbelievable.”
“Sergeant?”
“Captain, it’s just Sweet & Low. I’m trying to cut down on my sugar.”
“Sure, and I know Santa Claus…”
“Morelli, butt out. You’re in enough trouble.” Markham went back to Morgan. “Well?”
“If you don’t believe me, test it. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Morgan caught the eye of the other female detective, Velasquez, shifting her eyes to Morelli’s desk. “In fact, Velasquez, you got an evidence bag?” The svelte Puerto Rican detective answered with a nod.
“I haven’t got any left, Sergeant. Morelli, do you have an evidence bag?”
“Sure, in my desk drawer. Help yourself.”
Markham took offending item from Morelli and held it in his handkerchief until an evidence bag could be found. Morgan hated seeing that look in the captain’s eyes but she had no time for explanations.
A soft accented voice spoke up. “Ahhhhhh Captain...I think you should look at this.” Velasquez moved out of the way of Morelli’s open desk drawer. Black eyebrows rose at the discovery of an identical plastic bag filled with white powder.
“What the hell is going on here?”
“No! No, this ain't right.”
“Is there a problem, Detective?” The tone in the Captain’s voice told Morelli of his suspicions.
He mumbled, “No... I mean, well, yeah... that.... that..."
“Well? Do you have an explanation for this or not, Detective?” Markham so wanted to look back at Morgan, but restrained himself as he interrogated the Morelli. “Well?”
“She did it, Captain!” Morgan could nearly see the spit coming out of his mouth as he ranted. “She’s trying to get rid of me! This is a setup! I didn’t do it!”
“Sergeant, do you have anything to say?”
“It's not my stuff, Captain. I had nothing to do with this.” Her eyes shifted to her enemy. “Dust the bag for prints.”
“Why don’t you just drop dead! There’d be one less fag on the face of the planet!”
Morgan glided menacingly over to stop two inches from the small Italian. In a deep, silky voice she muttered, “Are you still threatening me, little man?” Morelli looked nervously over his shoulder to his two cohorts, his eyes widening as Fredericks and Lowenstein distanced themselves from him. “Looks like the Three Musketeers just became one pathetic little one.”
Morgan’s attention was solely on Morelli, unaware that the office had already stopped dead and watching intently the unfolding events. The silence was broken only by the sound of the oscillating fans and fluttering paper. She knew he feared her and she was in full intimidation mode, her anger building with each heartbeat. “Well, what’s it gonna be Morelli?”
“Maybe all these people here would like to know what you really are, O’Callaghan. You shouldn’t be allowed on the force, let alone in a position of authority. Who knows what’s going through that twisted brain of yours, huh? Where you’re gonna pick up your next victim? What weird ass little freak sex games you can play? Huh? Is that what you think about? Yeah? Huh?" She was so close to pummeling the man into next week, but that would achieve nothing to remedy the situation.
“Wh... What?! Jesus, Francis! Man, what kinda movies you been watchin'?” She watched him cringe at his first name. "Look, I do not have a problem. Obviously... you do. You think you are God’s gift to women, but I hate to tell you pal, you’re not.” Morgan's eyes slid to Velasquez and received an answering nod. “According to you, every woman in this precinct is a lesbian because they won’t go out with you.” She turned her attention to the surrounding crowd. “Have I ever given anyone here any cause or evidence to suggest that I am some kind of threat? Or... pervert." She gave Morelli a disgusted little glance. "Am I someone so morally corrupt that you fear for your children? Anyone?” There was a murmur of denial. “So, what do you guys think? What this... strange... little sleazeball, whose tiny little brains are in his balls, is saying? Or... you think that he’s accusing me because he doesn’t like having a woman as a superior?” Her confession sat on the edge of her tongue, so wanting to finally publicly acknowledge who she really was, but the captain’s intense look told her this was not the time.
“All right, back to work. You two, in my office. Now! Velasquez, get those... things ...over to the lab ASAP for contents and prints. Tell them it’s a rush job. I want this matter settled this morning.” With one final glance at the sergeant, Markham vanished inside his office, fully expecting his two offenders to be following behind. “I have had it up to my neck with all this constant bullshit. I have come to a decision and one of you is not going to be happy.”
Markham nearly laughed at the two officers. Like two children in the principal’s office they were standing as far apart from one another as the walls would allow. “Morelli, I am recommending you for a psych assessment.”
“A what?!"
“No arguments, Detective. You need to seek professional help.”
“What about her?”
“We’ll wait for forensics.”
“So I gotta go see a shrink and that freak of nature gets... what?!”
“You just don’t see it do you Morelli?”
“See what? All I see is that I’m being blamed here. It’s her fault.”
“How is it her fault?”
“She’s an abomination, Captain. Perverts like her shouldn’t work on the force, corrupting the system with their freak shit! She’s gotta go.”
“Are you listening to yourself man? You assaulted her!”
“I know what I’m talking about here!”
Markham shook his head. If this was what Morelli thought of homosexuals, he silently wondered what Morelli thought of him. Once he had Morgan taken care of it was only one electrical impulse away before his venomously ignorant opinions turned on his boss or his other coworkers. “I think you need a break, Detective. I’m authorizing a leave of absence for two weeks. During that time you are to attend regular psychiatric counseling. A psychiatric report from the attending doctor will be required before your return. Is that understood?”
“I’m suspended? For what?”
“Not suspended. You are on two weeks medical leave. I’m trying to help you here Frank, don’t be an idiot. Just do it.”
“I ain't the one that's sick here. Why the hell can't anyone see that but me?"
“Frank. Frank! This is not open for discussion. Before you go, I need you to leave your badge and gun. I’ll make the arrangements with the doctor so you don’t forget.” Dark eyes blazed with fury as Morelli snatched at his leather holster. His badge landed with a thump on the wooden desk, sounding as hollow as the atmosphere in the room. Morelli glanced at Morgan as he left, mumbling to himself as he threw open the glass door. “This ain’t over yet, Sergeant.” Morgan barely heard the words over the loud bang of the door against the wall.
“Well, that went well…” Markham mumbled.
“I… I’m sorry, Sir.”
“For what?”
“Me.”
“Don’t worry about it. By the way, how did you know?”
“My drawer wasn’t completely closed.”
“Am I going to find your fingerprints on that bag?”
“Nope.”
“What about the bag in your drawer?”
“It’s only Sweet & Low, like I said.”
“This only leaves me with one course of action.”
“It’s just getting worse by the minute, isn’t it?”
“Hopefully it will give me an opportunity to get him into a hospital for proper treatment though.”
“If it does any good.”
“Time will tell, I suppose. Do you want to press charges for assault?
“It’s probably not gonna help the situation. No.”
“Good idea. Okay, Sergeant, that’s all for now.”
Morgan left the office knowing she should feel better now that things were settled. Then why did she feel so awful? Morelli was finally out of her hair and getting some treatment, but somehow that didn’t give her satisfaction. Despite everything, she still felt a little responsible for his downfall.
* * *
There was one clean fingerprint found on the inside of the small bag of heroin from Morelli’s desk, earning Morelli a suspension and a firm recommendation for psychiatric assessment before charges being laid. “Why is it they always forget the inside?” Markham clicked his tongue in disgust. How could one of his detectives stoop so low? The other bag was, as expected, the artificial sweetener from Morgan’s desk. At the news of his fate, Morelli slipped away from the station house unnoticed. Questioning of Fredericks and Lowenstein gave the Captain some starting points for their search, but it seemed the disturbed officer was nowhere to be found.
* * *
Perkins, the accountant, had arrived late the evening before and was cooling his heels in the lockup. Now it was time to find out why he ran…
“Mr. Perkins. Glad you could join us.”
“Would someone care to tell me what is going on?”
“Oh, come on, Mr. Perkins. You were at the Vaughan’s residence the morning Rose McManus died. Don’t deny it.”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We found your fingerprints in the kitchen, Mr. Perkins.”
“That could have been there from the night before.”
“The cook told us that she cleaned the counter tops that morning before she went shopping. So your fingerprints could only been there if you were in the kitchen after the cook had left. What is your connection to all of this, Mr. Perkins?”
The slightly heavy set man hung is head in defeat. “I was seeing Rose.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We go to evening dance classes together. That’s where we met. She’s dead?”
“You knew she was dead. Isn’t that why you took suddenly took off?”
“She was alive when I stopped by to have a cup of coffee with her that morning. It didn’t take long for the news of her death to travel through the company, Detective. I knew I would be a suspect so I was trying to be somewhere else… fast.”
“But that looked very suspicious, Mr. Perkins. Running can be seen as a sign of guilt.”
“I panicked, okay! But I didn’t do anything!”
“What time did you see Miss McManus?”
“Around seven, on my way to work. Why?”
“What time did you arrive at work?”
“Around seven forty-five.”
“Can anyone confirm that you were at work at that time up until, say, nine?”
“Sure. I was working on company estimates for the coming year with two other people.”
“If you can supply the names it will help confirm your alibi. For the moment you are free to go, Mr. Perkins, but please confine yourself to this city. If you leave again you will be placed under arrest and jailed until you are no longer a suspect. Do you understand that, Mr. Perkins?”
“Errr… yes.” Morgan internally smiled at the man’s confused look. He was dragged from Massachusetts to New York only to be set free a few hours later. At least now he could stay in his own home without being on America's Most Wanted list.
* * *
The only bright news of the afternoon was the arrival of the paperwork for the missing funds from the Vaughan personal accounts. It was to be used as evidence when their suspect was finally in custody. Morgan scanned over the printout, not really understanding all the figures scattered over the page. It didn't matter. It was the bottom line that she wanted to see. That mattered! Someone had worked damned hard to hide the paper trail for the missing million dollars. A new surprise had emerged also. The new paperwork from Morelli had shown that this subterfuge had been taking place for the last three years, increasing the amount to well over five million dollars. It just kept getting better and better.
She looked over the printouts to study the two remaining Musketeers. She wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing as she stood and strode over to their desks, sitting on the corner. “Hey,” she said quietly, taking in the guarded looks of the two men.
“I… I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.” Morgan waited for a response but got none. “So where do we go from here?”
“Go?” Fredericks murmured, warily watching the sergeant.
“Yeah. What am I supposed to do with you two now?”
“What did we do?” Lowenstein felt nervous, wondering if their jobs were on the line.
“Well, let’s see. Openly inciting insubordination and discrimination within the ranks for starters. So, tell me now so we get on with this. You two share his opinions in all this?”
“It was only just for fun.”
“Sergeant.”
“Huh?” Fredericks just didn’t get it.
“‘It was only just for fun’… sergeant. The last time I looked I out-ranked you. And you think inciting discrimination and hatred is fun? I think you need to re-evaluate your ethics you two.”
“We didn’t do anything.”
“Didn’t do anything? You openly encouraged him, you morons! By egging him on he really believed you thought the same way he did! It gave credence to his beliefs, at least in his eyes. Where did this get us? Now, he’s a wanted felon and in need of psychiatric help, all because you thought ‘it was fun’. Who do you think is really to blame here?”
“Hey! He's the one…”
“And you did nothing to stop it! It’s as much your fault as his.” Emerald eyes blazed in righteous indignation, sending them emotionally cowering into the shadows.
“So that leaves me with a problem. What am I going to do with you two?” Her eyes shifted from one detective to another as if deciding their fate. “Well? As far as I can see, you have three options - you stay here and start pulling your weight, you ask for a transfer or you decide on a new career.” Morgan let the words sit in the air, waiting to see what their reaction would be.
“Errr….” Lowenstein never thought he would find himself in this position.
“Do we have to decide now?” Fredericks could feel beads of sweat gather on his brow and he knew it wasn’t solely from the heat.
“No, you don’t. Personally, I got no problem working with either of. But be warned, you will be expected to be part of this team, you got me? No more slacking off or snide remarks. If you can’t cope with that, then maybe you better look elsewhere.” She didn’t wait for a reply, instead shifting her long body back to her own desk and flopping into her chair.
“What are they doing?” she murmured to her partner.
“Sitting there like you hit them in the face with a dead fish.” Henry tried very hard not to smile considering the seriousness of the situation. “You do that intimidation thing really well.”
“I practice in front of the mirror.”
“Really?” Henry was really gullible at times.
“Sometimes Henry, I wonder how you ever made it through the academy.”
“Hey, O’Callaghan! Visitor!” Clarence’s voice echoed through the large room.
“Coming!” Morgan strode down the passageway between the desks to the door, absently allowing the case to fill her mind. “Who… oh.” There stood the last person she wanted to see. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand, Brennan?”
“Well, you won’t talk to me on the phone so I have to come across the country to see you.”
“Go home, Brennan.”
“What’s got up your ass?” The conversation had been getting steadily louder, forcing Morgan to grab her brother’s arm and steer him into a vacant interrogation room.
“Now listen to me, I don’t want to see you…”
“Larry O'Shannassy.” Morgan stopped dead. “I thought that would grab your attention.”
“I’m way over that now.”
“Not even if I can tell you where he is right now?”
Part of her trembled at the thought of revenge but the other part wanted to just leave it all in the past... especially if it involved any of her brothers. “I don’t wanna know and I don't care.”
“Dad’s memory means this little to you now?”
“Hey! Don’t you dare get in my face about this! You’re the one who abandoned him!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on… ten years ago you three walked the hell outta here out and I never heard a word from you again. What gives you the goddamn right to waltz back into my life and suddenly decide become my big brother again?”
“Because I am your big brother!”
“Fine. If you are so worried about Uncle… Larry, you fuckin' do somethin' about it!” She stepped up into Brennan personal space, her height bringing her eye to eye with the man. “And no, you are no longer my brother.”
“And what the hell do you mean 'didn't hear a word from you again'? I wrote and talked to Dad all the time. We all did. You're acting like he didn't tell you.”
“That’s not gonna work, Brennan. Nothing, we got nothing from any of you.”
“Well I hate to tell you, sis… we all kept in touch with Dad, sent money to him all the time. Well, sent it to his bank account, you know how Dad could be. Look... if you don’t believe me..." He extracted an account book from his inside pocket. He pulled out a pen and scribbled down some information from the account book on a piece of paper. “There. That's the bank account details. Go check it out for yourself.”
What was going on? Was everything she believed a lie? But why? Her anger bled off, leaving her weak. She crumbled on to a dilapidated chair. “I don’t understand. I don’t…”
“Look, maybe Dad had a reason for not telling you but we all kept in regular contact.”
“But… but why did you leave?”
“We could see that dad was struggling to support five of us. He was slowly killing himself. ” He turned to face the mirror, watching his sister’s reflection with interest. So, he kept her in the dark… “Mo, the force was Dad's life... but none of us wanted to be a cop. You were the only one who showed any interest.” Brennan turned, leaning his tall body against the glass. “We left so that the two of you could have a fighting chance… sis.” Morgan’s green eyes rose to meet her brother’s slightly more hazel copies.
“Look…” he could see her struggling with what he had told her. Confusion wrinkled her brow. “Just check out the bank account and give me a call.” He handed her his business card. “The reason I came was to tell you that Larry has surfaced in California. He’s running for city council in L.A.”
“They’re letting him get away with that? After everything he’s done?”
“He must have one hell of a publicity agent.” He was happy to see a small smile cross his sister’s lips. Maybe things will be alright after all. “So, are you going to do something about it?”
“Whoa! Why the hell me? What did I do to deserve this?”
“You’re the cop... sis.” That got him a wry smile for his efforts.
“By default, by the sounds of it. Look, I’m up to my neck right now in a murder case, Brennan. I just can’t up and leave.”
“Nothing has to be done right now. I just thought you needed to know.”
“Yeah…,” she murmured absently. Morgan’s brain hurt, nearly shorting out with all the information she had been given lately. There was just too much to think about. The last thing she needed to do right now was chase down Larry. Larry… she was struggling to drop the ‘uncle’. How could the man who had been so much a part of their family that blood could not have made him any closer... have been such a lousy lying crook of a bastard? It was almost inconceivable, but she couldn’t deny the damning evidence. Larry had disappeared before justice could be served. Would she get that justice for her father or was she past seeking revenge? Well, it was just going to have to wait.
“Brennan, I…”
“There's no need, Mo. We were all in the dark here. We just thought you were taking the money and ignoring us. Who knows, maybe he was trying to keep you in New York instead of coming after us. We might never know the real reason, sis.”
“I’ve gotta say… this is all kind of a new concept. Ten long years, Bren. It was just me and Dad. I had pretty much denied you guys even existed. It's gonna take some getting used to.”
“Tell you what. We're not going anywhere. How about I organize a little reunion and you get to meet all your long-lost relatives?”
“Relatives? Whoa! Slow down! Look... I’ll think about it... bro. You’re gonna have to give me a little time to come to terms with... all this.”
“Not a problem." He said with a wink. "Give me a call when you’re ready.”
A family. Damn. This was certainly unexpected. She wasn't even quite sure whether it was a welcome surprise. Her resentment hung on tightly to her emotions, refusing to relinquish its hold. “Okay. Thanks... thank you.” What more could she say?
“I’ve got to head back to L.A. tonight so I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you.”
“That's good. I’ll do some digging around and see what I come up with.” Brennan tentatively reached for her and she hesitantly returned the hug. It was really weird, like hugging a stranger. She wasn't really a ‘huggy’ type person and had to circumvent her instincts to withdraw. “I’m sorry, Brennan,” she whispered in his ear.
“Look, we had no idea Dad never told you, I would have probably reacted the same.” He paused. “And, ah... if there is any money left in that account, it’s yours.”
“I can’t take that. That belongs to...”
“Stop!" he smiled gently, “Morgan, listen to me! It was you that looked after him. Please. Think of it as our small contribution, okay. Take it with our blessing.”
Wow. What could she say? One revelation after another. Her head was seriously swimming now. “Errr. Okay.”
“If you have any problems accessing the account, give them my number. I know a good probate lawyer here if you need it.”
“I… I’m stunned.” She massaged her temple with her thumb, trying to ease the aching tension in her brain.
“Can I ask you now how you broke your arm? I was scared to before.”
“Argh, I was trying to push someone out of the way of a speeding vehicle. I got up close and personal with the sidewalk.”
“Tough break.”
“I’ll live.”
“Well, I better get going. I’ve got a couple of errands to do before I leave. I hope you call soon, sis. It’s been way too long.” Too long or too late? She had yet to decide on that point.
“Yeah. Take care.” She stood up, reaching for the door to show him out. “Have a safe trip back… Brenny.” He smiled at the endearment, drawing a smile from his tough-ass sister.
Morgan watched him leave the building, studying his broad back as her mind mulled over the conversation they just had. Why in the hell did Dad do this? I don't get it.
“Hey, Red. You okay?”
“Huh? Errr… yeah.”
“Hmm. Who was that?”
She gave Henry ‘the eye’. He held up his hands in surrender before she relented. “That was my brother.”
“I thought you hated them.” He watched her carefully. Obviously the conversation they had had changed the dynamic between them.
“So did I…” She walked past him back into the squad room and her desk.
* * *
The phone rang and Morgan leaned across to grab the receiver. “Fifth Precinct, O’Callaghan. Yeah. That’s good. Okay, thanks.” Morgan looked up into dark inquiring eyes. “That was ballistics. The round and the rifle match. Let’s go and have a little chat with Lenny.” With effort, she shifted her long frame out of the chair, moving toward Markham’s office with a report, while Henry organized for the prisoner to be brought up for questioning.
* * *
“So Lenny, enjoying your stay at Chez NYPD?? Sorry about the à la carte menu. Not too many different ways to serve baloney and bread, I’m afraid.” Morgan’s warped comments were met with stony silence. “You ain't got no sense of humor, Lenny.”
“You're full of shit.”
“Probably. I keep telling myself to eat more fiber.” This man was no fun. “We checked out your apartment yesterday, Lenny. It was a most enlightening. I especially liked the rifle behind the refrigerator.” Muddy eyes narrowed, glaring at her with lethal intensity. “Now we’ve got you for two attempted murders, Lenny. You left a round behind, Lenny. The one the doctors took out of the counselor matched your rifle, Lenny.” She watched the man’s jaw twitch in annoyance. “Feel like talking yet... Lenny?”
“Drop dead, bitch.”
“Yeah, that’d make your day, wouldn’t it?” Morgan paced around the room, drifting in and out of the shadows formed by a dead overhead fluorescent tube. “Counselor, I would suggest that you talk to your client about cooperating. He’s starting to rack up those years in prison. Either he cuts a deal or he’s gonna be in there until they bring him out in a coffin.”
While Legal Aid talked to his client Morgan leaned against the wall near the door, one foot resting on the plaster. She could see that he wasn't making any headway with Lenny, who steadfastly refused to talk to him. The counselor looked over at her shaking his head sadly.
“Okay, Lenny. That’s it.” She called out, “Officers!” The two jail officers who had been on stand by outside entered. “Take him back to the tombs.” After they had left Morgan turned to the lawyer. “I’m sorry for wasting your time. It doesn’t look like he wants help.”
“I’ll see you in court then, Sergeant.”
“Yep. Have a good one, Counselor.”
Henry emerged from the shadows. “Well, that was pointless as hell.”
“Yeah. Nothing we can do about it. Still, we have some good leads. Let’s get back at it!”
“I don’t get time off for good behavior?”
“Considering what you’ve been putting me through the last few days, I should be arresting you.”
“On what charge?”
“Invasion of privacy, impersonating my mother and improperly sticking your nose up my butt.” They left the interrogation room chuckling at her poor attempt at a joke.
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