Cold Cases and Second Chances Page 2

  "No, why should it?"

  "I had a few partners that asked not to work with me. I get along with you…we're friends, not just partners. And I like this. I didn't want to fuck that up."

  "It's fine, Remy. Nothing changes. Did you know I was adopted?"

  "No, you never talk about your parents."

  "They were older, could never have kids, so they adopted me from Pakistan when I was a few years old. They were already coming up on fifty. The brown kid with the Jewish parents in a predominately white neighborhood, I kinda stuck out. I never got bullied in the community but outside it, let's just say it wasn't fun."

  "I wondered where you got the name Kauffman from, and why do you celebrate Christmas?"

  "Gladys isn't Jewish. She's Catholic."

  "Married a Catholic girl. Had a thing for those schoolgirl outfits? I think my legs are too hairy for one, but I could—" I snorted as he pushed my arm.

  "All I'm saying is I know what it's like to get ostracized for something you can't help. Me? It was the color of my skin, and for you, it's being gay. We're good, and if you do start dating someone, you can talk about him."

  "Thanks. I'm not the dating sort. And like I told your kids, guys my age aren't exactly sought after in the gay dating game."

  He rolled his eyes at me. "You're only forty-six."

  "Way past my prime."

  "Someone would be lucky to have you."

  "Keep talking like that, Daddy, I'd think you were interested." I winked, and again, he snorted at me.

  "This new flirty attitude of yours is going to get you in trouble."

  "I don't know about that, sometimes getting in trouble has perks. There's spankings and…"

  "And you can stop there."

  "Such a prude, Daddy."

  He just ignored me, and I wasn't offended at all. He'd always been that strong silent type; mysterious in a way. I'd found it strangely comforting since I met him. Handsome or not, he was perfect in every way, from his serene demeanor to his intelligence. If a man didn't have all the good things inside him, then he could be ugly. I knew all about how the physically flawless could be stained by depravity.

  I pushed my past to the back of my brain before it had a chance to intrude. Other than my psychiatrists and doctors, I'd never spoken about my life to anyone. Not even with the men I'd dated for semi-long-term relationships. Harry didn't even know, and maybe that's why I hadn't experienced anything but a small hurt.

  The only other people who knew my past were in the community I’d joined. People who were just like me. Runaways and outcasts who found their place—our family. Those connections had served me well, and I paid them back at every opportunity.

  "Let’s get dinner. Staring at this board isn't going to help us out any. I'll even spring for dessert."

  "Now, you're speaking my language." I dropped my feet to the floor and stood up, then I stretched my stiff back. I grabbed our jackets, handed him his, and I followed him through the building. We didn't stop to talk or socialize with anyone we met up with. I think we were the most anti-social team in that precinct.

  "We got time to stop and check up on Shine after dinner?"

  "Sure. She still staying in the safehouse you arranged?"

  "She'll stay there for a while just until the trial, or I can make better arrangements. I need to hit the store first, so if you want to just drop me off. We can just meet up when I’m done."

  "No. We can take care of all that. No need for you to order a car to drive you everywhere. What does she need?" he asked as he pulled out onto the main road.

  "She needs some dressier clothes for court. Some personal care items. I know she likes those dollar romance novels you can get at those everything for a dollar stores. Cheesier, the better. We used to joke about them while she sat in my cruiser while I was on breaks, and we were both reading one. So dog-eared and spines so split it was surprising they held together."

  "You don't talk about your past."

  "It's not worth talking about." I forced myself not to tense up at the phantom pains still as agonizing as they were when they happened. I didn't want to remember. Didn't want to deal with it, but I had no choice in the memories. They were always there. They’d etched themselves into my flesh and brain—in my nightmares.

  "If you ever want to talk, you know I'll listen."

  There was the quiet confidence that made everything better when I was with him. He'd become like a security blanket, safe and warm, something I'd never had growing up or even when I reached adulthood. Nothing had ever made the memories stop. Didn't cease the flinch of an unsuspected touch on my back.

  "Thanks." It's all I could say. Explanations weren't possible with my past. No one would understand the hell I'd lived in until I was twenty-six and someone cared enough to step in. I hadn't lived the safest or law-abiding life, and Robert was so clean he squeaked. There were a lot of reasons for him to view me differently, and I didn't want that.

  "So, you want to shop first or eat first?"

  "Shop. Maybe I can get Shine something to go. She's been complaining her guard can't cook. She's starving. I’d agree with her. His cooking is barely a step up from possible food poisoning."

  "Then we have a plan. Just tell me where."

  I gave him directions to a thrift store that was near one of those discount places. They knew me by name since around the holidays and once a month, I pretty much bought out sections of their store. I was comfortable, but I wasn't rich, so sometimes I went without to make sure the street kids had what they needed. I could deal with it. I had a house, food in my fridge—I was fine.

  3

  ROBERT

  Three hours of shopping and dinner, I was past ready to go home, but Remy had gone through the stores like a madman on a mission. He'd held up each item in the thrift store with a critical eye. Muttered to himself every couple of minutes. He said Shine could alter anything, but he just needed to find things that would hold up to being torn apart and made anew.

  At the discount store we'd stopped at after the clothes shopping, every person in the place greeted Remy by name. He did the same, asked about kids, families, partners, and I could see that to them, he was more than a customer. He'd explained that's where he picked up the goody bag items he gave away at holidays and kept some in his trunk for emergencies.

  He was an amazing guy, but every time I asked about his past, he'd visibly tensed. I wanted to push out of my natural curiosity but didn't believe it would do me any favors with him.

  When we arrived, I'd seen a side of him I'd never noticed before. Yes, I'd seen the compassion and the connection he had with the victims—with the street kids we encountered, but this was different. I’d overheard bits and pieces of Remy’s conversation with Shine.

  "I feel dirty, but I can't…" Shine barely stroked the limp, oily strands of her dark, heavy hair.

  I was shocked by her appearance. I'd seen her around; interacted with her. She was sassy and bold. Even in the hospital, she'd kept her chin up—defiant. Like with a lot of the survivors we met during cases, it doesn't hit them until later. We didn't even work sex crimes or the special victim’s unit. She knew Remy and had called him.

  "What do you say, love, if I stay with you? You can bathe, I can wash your hair. We can just lock the world away. I know you feel dirty. It's something soul-deep you know will never completely disappear. The phantom pains and demons will linger in some ways. But right now, just you and me, a bath, what about I read you your new book?"

  Her only answer had been a head nod, and he'd helped her to her feet, sent me a silent sorry about our night extending, but I waved him off. I settled onto the couch. If anyone needed us, they could call or text. I doubted the lab was going to do much more over the weekend. They already worked at a snail's pace on a regular day.

  I frowned as a man only introduced as Boss, a squat guy with a thick neck and shaved head motioned me to get up and follow him. For all his lack of height, he was terrifying. He placed h
is index finger to his lips and leaned back against the wall outside the bathroom. He smiled as he listened to the conversation coming through the crack in the door.

  Remy was reading one of the novels he'd picked up for Shine as I heard the soft whisper of water against the side of the tub.

  "Do you think the romance is about the meet or the chemistry?" Shine asked and interrupted Remy.

  "The story is all about the meet-cute, Shine. It's the pinnacle moment of any romance."

  "No, no, yes, the meet is important, but it's about the chemistry. I mean, you can want to jump some dude you just met out of lust, a quick one-off for the fun of it, but some people you have to get to know first before the attraction hits. Fiction runs parallel to reality. They don't always intersect, even when the story is based in some element of reality. Fiction is all about escapism, especially romance."

  Remy let out a heavy sigh. "So, we're supposed to suspend our belief to think that love at first sight actually happens?"

  "Pretty, don't tell me you haven't fallen in love at first sight. Because I call bullshit. You're the romantic type. You've talked about nothing else but finding a man, settling down, and having babies."

  There was a long pause in the conversation, and for some reason, I held my breath. I'd seen him interact with my kids and grandkids, saw the gentle way he treated them. His full focus on the grandkids was as if he wanted to make sure they were safe and happy. Yet, I'd noticed a bit of hurt in his gaze when he talked about his ex-boyfriend having children.

  "Okay, I admit to fond feelings for someone, but I don't know if I'd classify that as love at first sight. I did date Harry for almost two years."

  "You're skewing the proof, and Harry was not going to settle down with you."

  "Thank you so much, you paragon of positivity."

  I covered a snort at his snarky reply and heard her soft laughter.

  "You know that's not what I meant. Harry was that thing you used not to be bored. Sex was routine. There was never a moment of ripping your clothes off in passion. He wouldn't even move in when you asked him to."

  "He liked his space."

  "A man who wants to be with you doesn't care about space, especially when there's dirty, sweaty sex involved. Which you told me Harry was as vanilla as they came."

  "Life isn't a romance novel. It's not walking into a room and spotting someone, and it hits you that they're your soulmate. Reality doesn't work that way, and also, sex isn't everything."

  "Who says?"

  "You're frustrating."

  "Read me the damn book." I could picture Shine's signature eye roll. She used it a lot around Remy.

  He started reading again, and I was once again motioned to follow Boss to the other room.

  "Those two and their conversations."

  "Have they always been like that?"

  "Yeah. I've been around these streets longer than I want to admit. I knew Remy when he was this twinky pretty boy that had all the men and some women lusting over jailbait."

  "Remy isn't a pretty boy."

  "I beg to differ." He pointed to a picture on the wall, and as I approached, he pointed to a thin, beautiful young man in the front. "He'd just turned eighteen that night. We had a big party for him."

  "He's been around here that long?"

  "Longer. But not my story to tell. He's a good kid, still is, even if he doesn't believe it. The kids around here trust him, and that doesn't happen, especially between homeless kids and cops. He's known, so he gets a free pass, and you, too, I think. You're safe by association."

  "How is Shine doing?" I asked as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. I shook my head as he offered me one.

  "She's okay. She's tough. It'll just take a while to get back to her old self. She was about to leave the game. Found a good job with benefits. Seeing some guy who worked in finance. She hasn't made contact since the gang rape. Got this thought in her head that this was life's way of telling her what her place is in the world. Called bullshit, but she has to work it out for herself. I can just give her a place to heal."

  "Nice of you to let her stay."

  "Oh, honey, this is what I do. I own this building. I have five apartments blocked off for this purpose. They come to me hurt, junk sick, sometimes just simply in trouble. I take care of them. Clean up their vomit. Change their clothes when they piss or shit on themselves. They're my babies while they're here with me. Get them back on their feet, and I give them a choice…back to the streets or something safe. They choose that something safe, Remy and I use our contacts to get jobs, pool our money for a few new interview outfits."

  "What about the ones who go back out onto the streets?"

  "They have our numbers. They come running when they need to. Sometimes you have to go beyond rock bottom to find your way out."

  "He doesn't talk much about his past. We've been partners for almost—"

  "Two years. He talked about you and your kids, especially the grandkids. You'd think they were his."

  I smiled to myself at a memory of Christmas. That was the last time we were all together, but in my gut, I knew he'd seen my children since. Something had come up at the last few family dinners. Emergency calls he never gave me details about. I sensed he wanted to keep me away from his past.

  "The partner before you was a massive asshole. Took him forever to get reassigned. He was sad the day they moved him out of Special Victims."

  "He's passionate no matter what unit he's working."

  "He's like a dog with a fucking bone. Sometimes to the detriment of his safety."

  "You talking about shit you shouldn't, Boss?"

  I spun at the harsh sound of Remy's voice. In the years I'd known him, I hadn't heard that tone from him.

  "Ain't my place to tell…him your business, now is it?"

  "There's takeout coming for her. She’s going to try to sleep after she eats. Call me if she needs me."

  "You'll be the first one. Let me talk to you for a minute." Boss glanced at me. "Alone."

  "I'll wait outside, Remy. Take your time." I told Boss it was nice to meet him and said a quick goodbye to Shine when I passed her on my way to the door.

  As soon as I pulled the door closed and heard the lock click, angry voices rose on the other side. Instead of leaving, I leaned against the wall across from the door in case I needed to knock it down. The voices slowly died down, but I didn't relax until Remy appeared.

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah, you ready to go home?"

  I could tell he didn't want to talk about what happened, and again, I didn't want to push. We all had shit that we didn't want to relive, but it didn't sit right with me that he wouldn't tell me what was going on with him. I knew he was stressed about Shine's case, and the lack of urgency on getting the guys put away. Not to mention our own stalled homicide. "Way past this old man's bedtime."

  "You're so decrepit."

  "You want me to take you home and pick you up in the morning or take you to get your vehicle?"

  "Picking me up in the morning is fine. I gotta get home to Romeo. My neighbor's grandson puts him out when he gets home from school and plays with him a bit, but he doesn't like being home alone so long."

  "No problem. You know I'm always up super early."

  I motioned him toward the front exit and followed behind the bigger man. I bit my tongue on demanding answers; that wasn't my place. He was a grown man taking care of himself long before we'd become friends. Although, on the way to his house, his quietness was out of character for him, which made me worry that something was going on. He'd tell me if he needed my help; I'd just needed to deal with that.

  4

  REMY

  I pathetically succumbed to my post-orgasm sob-fest as I stared at the ceiling with my legs still pulled back to my chest. The big dildo partially buried in my ass and my shame covering the hairy curve of my belly. How the fuck could you feel full and empty at the same time? I removed my toy, wiped the lube from between my cheeks, and wrap
ped my dildo in the towel under my ass. I tossed the bundle over the edge of my bed and heard it land with a muffled thump.

  My throat was still sore from screaming his name, Robert, begging him to tell me he loved me. At the thought, more tears flowed from the corners of my eyes and into my silver-streaked hair. Why the hell did I do this to myself? Fall in love with the straight ones or the unattainable. The men who'd date me and then find the loves of their life after leaving me. I'd even introduced Harry to Tim, and it was love at first sight.

  It had taken a bit to get over that one, especially when Harry called to tell me they were having their first child a few years previously. I'd been the one who wanted kids. Harry hadn’t wanted the responsibility. I'd congratulated him, and even after a while, his happiness when showing off his first eased the pain.

  Pain was something I was used to. My earliest memory in life was learning not to scream. I silently endured because it was the only way it stopped. My silent suffering didn't feed their sadistic need to break me. My first memory was the crack of a whip or belt, the displacement of air only a whisper of warning before it met my back, bottom, and thighs.

  Eighteen years of unending torture soothed a bit by me not becoming them. I wasn't an angry person. I'd never lifted my hand to another creature in my life except for the lab director, but the sanctimonious bastard had deserved to be called out on his bullshit. I volunteered. I made people happy. Yet, I didn't know if I was. Normally, I controlled myself better, but the situation with Shine frayed the edges of my calm.

  My argument with Boss hadn't helped any. The nosy old Queen knew better than to talk about my business. Very few people knew about my secret obsession—my love for my straight partner. I'd cried into my beer more than once when talking with my old friend. I knew the older man meant well. He'd tried to talk me into confessing to Robert, but I couldn't do that.