BAY #2
When Detective Arnold walks into the living room, he notices Alex sitting on the couch, watching him. I have to admit Alex plays it off surprisingly well. His face looks relaxed, even open. He pulled it off quite nicely, I’m proud of him.
"This is my husband, Alex Nolan."
I say it while gesturing toward him, and Alex puts on an apologetic smile and speaks in an almost charming tone, "Please forgive me, Detective, for not getting up to shake your hand, but I’m dealing with morning sickness, and I’m usually a bit fragile at this hour."
Wow. I have to admit it sounds pretty good, a cleverly slipped hint about the pregnancy, and it certainly doesn’t hurt to let that land.
"Congratulations," the detective says as he sits down in the armchair across from us.
I sit beside Alex and wrap an arm around his shoulders in a protective gesture.
Arnold watches us for a moment, and silence settles over the room.
"Where to begin, where to begin?" Detective Arnold murmurs. He crosses one leg over the other, laces his fingers over his knee, and studies us for quite a long moment, but I don’t intend to say anything because, well… anything I say can be used against me.
"About twelve years ago, in the department where I was working at the time, they were handling a case with some rather interesting leads that pointed to a sixteen-year-old boy who might have been involved in the deaths of a group of other teenagers.
There was no obvious proof, but the grandfather of those boys insisted this particular teenager was the one responsible. "
Silence, deep silence.
"Yesterday the funeral home owned by that same grandfather burned down, and several of his relatives died inside with him. The bodies were burned, but the coroner said a few of them were killed by gunshots to the head from a firearm legally owned by the family, which we also recovered in the ruins. At this moment the police department has no evidence as to who might be responsible, whether it was one of them or whether an outside person was involved. The building is completely burned so it’s difficult to gather any DNA evidence. "
"Forgive me, Detective, but what does this story have to do with us?" Alex says in a smooth voice.
"I don’t know yet." The detective taps his fingers lightly against his knee and tilts his head, fixing his gaze on me.
"Something occurred to me back then…"
Another short pause follows as his eyes move across our faces.
"I did some sniffing around on my own, using my personal contacts. I traced the whereabouts of all the Hanson family members who died in that building. I noticed that one of them spent a lot of time in this neighborhood, actually appearing here almost every day for the past year."
Arnold narrows his eyes.
"In a moment of impulse I went to the security office for this housing complex. They have a camera system that watches not only this community but also the commercial complex next to it, and I wanted to see what he had been doing on the day everything happened."
I fight hard against my body, willing my heartbeat not to speed up.
"Imagine my surprise when one of the cameras showed the two of you getting into an SUV and driving off. Some time later the SUV returned with only you in it. You got out for a moment and went into the house, then returned to the car, but in the meantime another man walked up to the vehicle and slipped something inside while opening the trunk with what looked like a duplicate key. The camera angle wasn’t great, but even so I saw you return to the SUV, and soon after that the same man came back, got inside as well, and drove off, apparently pushing your unconscious body toward the next seat. Knockout gas, I’m guessing."
I don’t say anything because there’s nothing to say. Camera footage isn’t something you can talk your way out of easily. My mind works quickly through possible answers, but Arnold spares me the trouble when he suddenly continues.
"About fourteen years ago, when I was still a young officer, I made a stupid mistake that could have cost me everything, and someone helped me then. Someone… unexpected."
Silence falls again as Alex and I stare at Arnold with tension and full attention.
"Since then there were times when I helped this person in small ways, especially because even though he belonged to a criminal organization, he also did things that could be called…" Arnold hesitates, "noble."
"Ennio Ferro," I say quietly.
Arnold narrows his eyes and studies me closely.
"I assume he must have helped you at some point as well, maybe more than once, because he contacted me back then and asked that I try to, let’s say, conduct the investigation slowly in that case, the deaths of those teenagers on the cliff."
Arnold falls silent again, his fingers still tapping lightly on his knee.
"Certain facts connected in my mind when I checked the registration of your SUV and saw it was you, and the man who kidnapped you belonged to the Hanson family.
I figured they must have taken revenge into their own hands just as they had on the cliff before.
The bumper of their car was damaged, but the lab found traces of paint from another vehicle, not just from the guardrail.
I suspected even then that they might have rammed someone, but something went wrong and they ended up at the bottom of the ocean. "
The detective sighs lightly, as if to emphasize how strangely fate arranges people’s lives.
"So I called Mr. Ferro and told him what I saw on the surveillance footage. I told him that quite a few people died in that funeral home and eventually someone might become interested in identifying the perpetrator. I also reminded him that I had already paid my debt to him and that I wasn’t obligated to help anyone in this situation.
That’s when Mr. Ferro told me something very interesting. "
Detective Arnold takes his phone from his pocket and turns it toward me. The screen shows a young man with straight dark hair, a terrified, bloodied face, and despair in his eyes.
"If you tell me correctly who this person is and under what circumstances you met, I will stand up, walk out of here, and the surveillance footage will never see the light of day again," he says firmly, looking straight into my eyes. I know he means it.
I study the photograph and slowly reply,
"This picture is from last year. It shows an eighteen-year-old omega who was kidnapped by a group of thugs who intended to deliver him to a brothel owned by the Ferro family. One of those alphas tried to rape him, but I didn’t let that happen, I killed him.
Together with Mr. Ferro we returned the omegas to safety, placing them in the hands of our anonymous police contact. "
Detective Arnold stands, slips his phone back into his pocket, and without a word starts walking toward the door.
"Wait," Alex calls suddenly, rising from the couch. "Who is that young man to you?"
Detective Arnold pauses for only a brief moment and turns toward Alex. A strange sadness shadows his face.
"He is my son."
Then he walks out and closes the door softly behind him.
I look at Alex, and he whispers, "Is this really the last thing you mentioned?"
I nod slowly, our fingers intertwining.
"So it’s real, Bay?"
I nod again.
"The nightmare is truly over?"
"Yes, Alex. I believe so. We can start living."