jdcartwright (jdcartwright) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2021-02-11 07:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | jd cartwright, noah restic, npc |
Chance encounters
Who: JD, Noah, Rob Doherty (NPC - Jess)
What: Drinks
When: Present
Where: Precinct/ Moon Doggies
Ratings G
JD had requested for Doherty to come talk to the detective at the end of his shift. It was 8 PM, and Rob had been manning the desk for the day yet was still completely wiped. He was in plainclothes, his tie loosened and jacket open to a button down. The door of the office was cracked open and he performed his customary knock on the doorframe.
“JD?”
JD looked up from the screen, the folder in his hands being plopped back onto his desktop when he saw the detective standing there. “Come in, man, take a load off,” he said, a lift of his chin indicating the chair as he looked back at the screen and signed off on the report he’d been reading. Another Missing Person’s report that could now be closed, the victim of another ‘exsanguination’ that made him sigh and shake his head. Once he saw the report disappear from his screen he quickly put his signature at the bottom of the paperwork and closed the file, shoving it into the ‘Out’ tray on his desk.
Doherty entered the office, closing the door behind him and sinking into the chair across from the other man. He eyed the stack of paperwork and shook his head slowly. “Is it that time of year already?” he cracked. Damn, he wanted a smoke. He would, however, settle for a drink.
“You want to blow this popsicle stand?” he asked, checking his watch even though he knew full well what time it was. “I could use a boilermaker.”
“Man, I wish, with this paperwork it’s that time of the month!” JD laughed drily, glancing sideways at the pile of reports still in his ‘In’ tray. With a deep inhalation he exhaled and declared, “Stuff it, it’s all still going to be here tomorrow,” and pushed back from the desk. He stood, pulled his jacket off the back of the chair and jerked his head in the direction of the door out of the precinct. “Lead the way, first round’s on you.”
“First round’s on me, in me, what’s the difference?” Despite his jovial tone, Doherty’s mind was racing and his body could not keep up. He couldn’t stop thinking about that sketch, about Micah’s face in that weird diner, the masterful crack in his voice as he spun a tale of a criminal desperate to leave the underworld.
“You, uh...you look into my brother’s case? The one in New York?”
JD followed Rob out of the senior detective’s office, the door being pulled shut behind them and locked. As he pocketed his keys JD nodded. “Yeah, I did, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, but let’s keep that until we get to those drinks,” he suggested. He tensed and released the muscles in his right leg which were complaining about having been kept stationary for too long, then expected to work suddenly.
“Managed to get a hold of the file, a mate who’d been here then moved there thanks to his wife scoring a big promotion was able to help me out with it,” he told Rob as they made their way out of the precinct and to the car park. “You got wheels, or need a ride?” he asked as they headed into the rows of cars.
“My car’s here,” he told JD, his keys already in his hand, jangling cheerfully. It was a sad fact that his mood had climbed at the prospect of not having to drink alone. “Where we headed?” he asked curiously. “Friendly’s, or Slammer’s?” Friendly’s had better drink specials but Slammer’s was a dedicated cop bar, hence the bad pun for a name. Doherty didn’t much care where they went, but it might be better to have this conversation away from familiar faces.
JD though for a microsecond. "How about Doggies? Could go some of their Suicide Fries," JD suggested. Moondoggies was just that little bit further away that they wouldn't have much risk of running into anyone else and the booze was cheap and the pizza good. "Y' know it? South, on Arville," he added, pressing the button on the car's remote to unlock it.
Rob barked out a laugh. “Do I know it? Half the guys I’ve put away call that place home.” He shot JD a sideways look, a smile on his face. “You are full of surprises.” He lifted his hands in faux surrender. “You got it, man.” He gave the detective a wave and settled behind the wheel of his Kia, ready to follow.
The radio came on when the engine did and Doherty turned up the volume.
As JD’s car rolled into the available slot in the parking lot outside Moon Doggies the detective concluded he would test the waters with Doherty, see how the other detective was coping before telling him anything he’d found on the casefile about his brother’s death. He’d noticed the haggard look on the man’s face, the lines deepening on his face since Christmas. JD had hoped it might just be a seasonal sadness, he knew it well and still thought about his mother when her birthdate came around on the calendar. But time had eased the pain, the place she now held more an internal memorial to her memory.
With Doherty he could see there was still that pain, and JD wanted to find out how his colleague was - he was a good cop but the last few weeks JD had seen a change in the man and he didn’t want to raise the guy’s hopes. At least not until he had some more information on a couple of things he’d noticed in the file.
He reached the front door just ahead of JD, holding it open for the other man. “Your shout, I’ll catch you up, just gotta make room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the Men’s room.
“I got you,” Doherty called before approaching the bar. He shrugged out of his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair next to him to save the seat for JD and caught the attention of the bartender, ordering two stouts and two shots of whiskey.
Noah had been near the pool table, talking to an old acquaintance of sorts who was back in town, when he spotted Doherty’s world-weary form across the bar. He debated whether or not to approach the man, or leave out the back before being spotted back. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided on the former. The pyrokinetic slid in on the cop’s left. “Double fisting it tonight?”
JD quickly washed his hands after finishing, and was drying them on the seat of his jeans as he made his way out of the Men’s room. He looked along the bar and saw Rob, then saw he was talking to someone beside him, a young man. He huffed a soft laugh, the idea of going somewhere they could talk now out the window. He hung back, wondering if this was a CI and not wanting to interrupt in case it was. He waited in the shadows, in Rob’s line of sight but out of view of the other.
Doherty heard Micah’s -- Tim’s? -- voice before seeing his face, and his heart began to pound in his chest. He was afraid to take his hands off his drink in case they visibly shook. Slowly, he turned to face the younger man. “Nah,” he answered, hoping he sounded as casual as the words he spoke. “I’m drinking with a co-worker tonight.” Spotting JD across the way, he raised a hand and waved, letting the detective know he could come over. Despite his nerves being suddenly on edge, he wanted to try something.
“We were going to talk about my brother’s case,” he added, looking straight into those dark eyes. “We think there might be some new leads.”
Noah sat in the third empty chair, sipping from the bottle in his hand. “Oh, yeah?” He matched Doherty’s tone and turned around to look in the direction of the other man.
JD saw the signal from Rob and made his way across the bar. It was a regular Friday night, workers who’d finished at normal office hours having either been there since leaving the office, or been home to dress themselves up for a night on the town and were priming themselves before heading up to the bright lights and big priced bars. Or they were here for the duration. He glanced over to the big TV screens to see what games were being played, losing interest by the time he arrived at where Rob was seated, the two beers and shots in front of him.
“Cheers,” he said, picking up the still full beer and taking a swig.
Doherty dropped the whiskey into his beer and took a long pull. He wiped his mouth with a bar napkin before speaking. “JD, this is my friend Micah. Micah, JD.” He turned to face the detective. “I was just telling him about how we’ve been looking into Graham’s case.”
JD was picking up the shot glass, now there was room in his beer, but paused before dropping it in and put it back on the bar. He looked from Rob to Micah and held out his hand. “Micah,” he said, now a little more curious as to who this person was, and why Rob would bring something like that up in conversation with him.
Noah obliged, shaking JD’s hand curiously. “Nice to meet you, JD.” The corner of his mouth twitched subtly. Well, Vegas was just lousy with detectives, wasn’t it? The mention of Graham didn’t shake him in the least. In fact, he was very curious to learn what ‘leads’ they had managed to amass, if any. “Such a tragedy. If it had happened to my family, I don’t know how I’d go on.”
He shook his head sadly and gave Doherty a clap on the back. “This guy’s a tough one.”
JD silently nodded his agreement, eyes darting to Rob’s face. He was still trying to figure out why he’d bring that up, given how he knew the man felt about it, the frustration, anger, and guilt about not having been able to solve it. And there was something about the way Rob had looked him straight in the face when he’d told him.
“And how do you two know each other?” he asked, finally dropping the shot into his beer and taking a long swig as he looked from one to the other.
“We met through my ex-wife,” Doherty lied, pushing his empty shot glass forward. “Another one, please,” he asked the bartender. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Micah or whatever the hell his name was, though he congratulated himself for not flinching when he felt that hand on his back. He wanted to turn around and shoot the other man right there. His trigger finger itched. The only thing stopping him was the detective next to him. “He’s been talking to some people for me, seeing if anything shook loose.”
And then he added, lying with the truth, “He agreed to be a CI but...I haven’t put him on the books yet.” Doherty gave JD an imploring look. “That’s why I haven’t mentioned it.”
As a detective it’s pretty important to learn how to tell when someone’s lying. This, in some cases ends up with the said detective learning to become a competent liar themselves, hiding the signs, reducing their ‘tells’, and in some cases turning ‘bad’. JD was glad Rob wasn’t one of those. Or at least as far as he could tell the man seated at the bar beside him was only telling lies about the circumstances of his meeting Micah.
His glass lowered as his tongue tracked across his top lip, drawing it in and releasing it as Rob looked up at him, still standing, with a look JD hadn’t really seen before. He held his hands up, shaking his head and laughing. “Woah, no skin off my nose what you do with your CIs,” he said, slouching comfortably while leaning on his elbow on the bar, giving himself a better, clearer view of the two men without it looking obvious. He nodded when the bartender offered a top up of his shot glass, taking another mouthful of the beer.
“Any of these people drop anything of interest?” he asked, eyes still on his glass as he lowered it back to the bar.
Noah spoke up before Doherty could. “Syracuse doesn’t have a lot of links with Vegas, unfortunately. Especially that area. Quiet suburb, lots of families.” He drained the contents of his beer and reached into his pocket for some cash. “Don’t worry, I got you boys.” He gave JD a wink because he could, and set the money on the bar. “Unfortunately, I have someone waiting for me at home, but it was good meeting you.” He nodded to the both of them before slipping away.
Doherty released a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding.
JD’s eyes followed the retreating back of the departing CI and without any change in expression, maintaining the relaxed smile he lightly cuffed Rob on the shoulder, murmuring, “want to retell that bullshit?” as he jerked his head at the man’s glass, looking all the while like he was asking him if he wanted another drink. To follow on he turned to the bartender and nodded holding up two fingers as he picked up his second shot and dropped it in the half filled beer.
“I went to check out The Rabbit Hole,” Doherty explained in a low voice. “Tried to get some information. This kid comes up to me and offers himself up as a CI.” He cut a glance at JD. “I was desperate.”
That the detective had gone to The Rabbit Hole alone made JD swallow hard. He was pissed, mainly at himself for having wasted so much time on the witch killer case, he hadn’t taken the time to introduce him to that world. “So he just came up to you at the bar?” he asked, the smile still on his face. “And offered himself up as a CI?” he repeated out of habit, a trait learned when questioning a witness or their statement.
Doherty didn’t bother dumping the second shot into his beer. It went straight down his throat. “Yep.” He was debating whether or not to let JD in on his little discovery. The only thing holding him back was an idea brewing in the back of his head. It came from a dark, mean place where the rage was white hot. The idea of taking care of the younger man himself. Because no matter what punishment law enforcement could mete out, to Rob, it wasn’t nearly enough.
“You said you found some things?”
The monosyllabic answer and changing of subject left JD wondering what was going on with Rob. He reached for a stool, dropping onto it now his leg had had enough time to stretch, and considered how much to reveal to the brother of the victim.
“Yeah, noticed in autopsy reports they all had some unidentified stuff in their bloods,” he told him, taking another swig from his beer before adding, “figured it could be worth finding out what it was.”
“Shit,” Doherty muttered into his beer, “she was right.” Louder, so JD could hear him properly, he said, “You probably saw that there was a girl in the house with them that night. She left before the fire. When I questioned her back then, she said she thought someone put something in their drinks, after the fact. From the way everyone fell asleep. She left hers untouched.”
He shook his head slowly. “There has to be a way to find out what that stuff was. Maybe it’s unidentifiable because it’s not…normal.” The cop was uncomfortable still talking about these things, still not used to the veil being lifted.
Nodding slowly JD agreed. “Wonder why the girl didn’t drink it, and fall asleep?” JD eyed Rob as he took a mouthful of his drink. “So there’s a good chance either she, or the mystery guest, dosed the drinks. Question is why? What’s the point?” He paused again before adding, “those cases your brother was working on, the arson cases? What came of those actual cases? I couldn’t find much in the files I had access to.”
Rob shook his head. “She didn’t do it. I believe her.” He couldn’t explain exactly why. It would have been easy to blame her. But he knew who did it and what he wanted to do to the guy. Doherty would bet his life on it.
“Those cases got buried, which is why I thought maybe there was someone inside who was involved. I kept getting diverted, which is part of the reason why I came here.”
This information made JD frown. “Wait! You think someone in the precinct was in on the arsons?” he asked, making sure he understood what Doherty was implying.
“Maybe not the arsons, but covering it up?” Doherty sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t know, man. I’ve had nine years to come up with every kind of scenario. I’m tired. I’m really fucking tired.” He pushed his empty pint glass away from him.
And this brought JD to why he’d asked Rob to come for a drink. “Man, I get it, or at least sort of,” he told him, filing everything away for a later ‘look-see’. He downed the shot that had come with their second round, the warmth of the three, and beer, starting to make itself felt, along with the relaxation that came with it.
“I’m going to the Coast this weekend, wanna come for a ride?,” he said, the reminder earlier that week that it was Valentine’s Day having motivated him to get out of town and the best place he could think of heading was the Coast. “I’ve never been married, don’t see it in my future, and can’t stand all the commercialised crap they force on us every year for some saint or something, some poor fella called Valentine,” he declared, then added with a grin, “and every time we start talking about work we have to down a shot.”
That weekend. Doherty rubbed his jaw, five o’clock stubble beneath his fingers. Part of him wanted to say yes. He could see himself in the water, getting nice and drunk in the sunshine. But the other part wanted to destroy Noah’s life, and he needed to start figuring out how. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.” He gave JD a smile that he hoped was reassuring.
“You know what I think of on Valentine’s?” he asked, his tone switching to jovial. “The massacre. I was obsessed with gangsters when I was younger. Catching them, I mean. The excitement in the chase.” Doherty grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl. He knew bar snacks were some of the worst for germs, but he figured the alcohol would kill the bacteria anyway.
“I don’t think I ever asked you. What got you into this? Wanting to be a detective.”
JD relaxed a little, the diversion appearing to be working, Rob responding and appearing to think beyond just the boundaries of his family’s case.
“In the blood I guess,” he replied. “Pop was a sheriff, Dad and my uncle were both cops, detectives, it was almost pre-ordained,” he joked before taking another swig of the beer in front of him. “How about you?”
“Same, really. Dad was one, older brother became one.” He edged a smile and picked up one of the laminated menus off the bar. “Like you said, it’s in the blood. But burnout is a very real thing.” Doherty flipped through the pages, then handed it to JD. “Let’s order some food and make this a real night out, eh?”
“Sounds like a damned fine plan to me,”JD grinned and took the menu, taking a quick look but deciding pretty quickly what he would have. “Pizza, all the meats, and a serving of the suicide fries,” he said, signalling to the bar tender.
“Yeah, man, that’s what I’m talking about.” Doherty clapped JD on the shoulder, just as a buzzing in his pocket made itself aware to him. As the other detective rattled off their order, he pulled out his phone and kept the screen out of plain sight as he read the message that had popped up.
I can talk. Come to RH, bring money.
Rob’s face cracked into his first truly genuine smile all night. It seemed like he would be having a good Valentine’s weekend, after all.