Quadruplets Make Six

Chapter Twenty-Three: Nate

I couldn’t remember ever caring about something as much as I cared about Rose. I was so afraid for her, I just felt nothing but unease whenever I was around her, or when I knew she was alone. I watched that interrogation like I was studying it. Like it was the first one I had ever seen.

That was years ago. I was a rookie cop that just busted someone for possession. I brought the woman in for processing, thinking it was an easy arrest with minimal paperwork. I was thirty minutes into it when the fucking DEA and the FBI came busting into the precinct. Apparently, I had taken down one of the freaking ring leaders. I watched behind the glass for the seven hours it took to break her into giving up every one of her partners. I would never forget her for that reason alone. I had seen many more interrogations after that, but this was the only one making my blood boil.

I watched the asshole sink back in his chair like he owned the place, and like he didn’t do a damn thing wrong. It was all such bullshit, and I had to actively keep myself from busting in there. I distracted myself with Rose, sitting right by me. She was being so strong, and I wondered what was really going on in her head. I wished she would open up to me more, but I knew it just wasn’t in her nature. Being around her reminded me a lot of myself growing up. Reserved, but willing to take anyone down who got in my way. Rose was really holding her own and I wished she would just relax. But there was a criminal just a few feet from her, someone she watched in the middle of a crime. That wouldn’t be easy on anyone.

“How long do you think it will take?” she whispered after an hour of silence. I had gotten her some coffee, but she hadn’t had any of it to drink.

“I don’t know. Alex is pretty good at a shake down, but this guy seems hard core,” I answered, looking down my nose at her.

“What about Max?”

I shrugged. “He’s a little tougher to get around. Mostly because the people he usually interrogates are creeps—child molesters and kidnappers. So, he treats almost every suspect like that,” I told her.

She nodded and leaned her head on my shoulder. We were sitting in the private viewing room, and no one else was around. We all decided to keep this on the down low. If he was part of the mob, we definitely didn’t want them getting word of it. That would blow the entire thing up and then they would all get off on so-called technicalities with the crime lab.

“We’ve got your prints on three different crime scenes. How do you explain that?” Alex leaned over the desk, up in the guy’s face.

He was built like a wrestler, the kind on television that take enhancements and shit. His face was all rugged like he got beat up at least twice a week, and nothing ever healed right. He had the sleeves of his white tee shirt rolled up, and he was covered in tattoos and scars. According to Rose, only one of those tattoos mattered. They started off with that, asking if it was some kind of branding. He didn’t even budge. He had a thick accent that told me he hadn’t been in the states long. If anything, he got here just in time to do the damage on all three victims.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. Which he was right to, because there was no evidence left behind. The only thing even putting him in that room was Rose’s ID, and we all trusted she was good for it.

We just had to get it out of him.

“Okay. How about you just tell us why you went after one of the biggest investors in the city? I bet you didn’t know he was ex-Navy, which is why he knocked you on your ass.” Max was sitting in front of him, staring him down like he had a personal vendetta.

I guess we all had one. He was directly putting our Rose in danger, and sitting there all smug about it too. We weren’t going to have it anymore and our patience was running thin. The only reason I wasn’t in there was so I could sit with Rose. I didn’t want her going home alone, and I couldn’t leave the station to watch her.

They went back and forth for a good while.

“Is the coffee not good? I can have someone make a Starbucks run.” I nudged Rose. Her slender fingers were wrapped around the cup tightly. The only calm thing about her were her sky blue painted nails. She was shaking her leg like it had done her wrong. I rested my knee against her and she stopped.

“No, I’m fine. I guess I’m more nervous than I thought. It’s weird how I can eat in the middle of an ER rush but not right now, sitting here doing nothing. I even ate during surgery once, isn’t that crazy? I don’t know. I guess this is worse.” She blew out a shaky breath. “Sorry.” She laughed nervously.

I smiled at her and prompted her to look at me. Staring into the watery gray globes of her eyes almost made me dizzy. “That’s okay. I just wish I could make you relax.”

She giggled. “That won’t happen.” She shrugged. I flicked my finger over her nose and her smile widened, her shoulders loosening up just a bit. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and focused back on our suspect.

His name was Owen. If that was even his real name. When we ran his prints in booking we got nothing and he screamed criminal record. It must have been overseas, back in Ireland or where ever he was before he came here.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, so why don’t you just take me back to my cell.” He didn’t look at them as he spoke and that told me he had something to hide. He knew he wasn’t a good enough liar to let them see his eyes.

“Not happening,” Alex said first. He was now leaned against the wall behind him, trying to make him uncomfortable, remind him that he didn’t have any control of the situation. He must have a pretty rough past or some hard training to not have folded already.

“Look, we know you aren’t working alone. And you definitely aren’t the brains of the operation,” Max said. He had gotten up, and was leaning in a corner where we couldn’t see him, but could hear him.

“Fuck off,” the suspect laughed. He crossed and uncrossed his arms. I took it to mean he was finally getting uncomfortable.

“Someone has to be paying you. You don’t look like the kind of guy who beats people up for free. So, who do you work for?” Alex spoke that time.

“I don’t work for anyone. But I did like beating you up though.” He smirked, and Alex did well to ignore him. At least we knew who jumped him, finally.

“But you are working?” Max pried. The suspect’s face fell just an inch, and he caught himself before giving anything else away.

“Whatever.”

“You’ll get tired of lying soon,” Alex said.