12. Chapter 12

#

Price examined their main lead calmly. Cases involving children were always hard, but she was used to the strain and she’d known what she was signing up for. Detective Espinoza however, was clearly feeling the pressure.

He was in one of the smaller conference rooms, ostensibly for a spot of privacy, but really because Johnson wanted him isolated in case he got violent or tried to run and it made sure that no one could contact him without them knowing. The lines around his eyes were deepening with ever hour, and Espinoza ran his hands through his hair once every minute or so, occasionally leaping up to pace furiously around the room, and checking his phone constantly.

Was it worry, or was it guilt?

Price studied him carefully. This disguised interrogation was going to be difficult, and she hadn’t yet decided if he’d be easier to crack if he was reassured or if he was pushed or a careful balance of the two.

She knew which she’d prefer… but effectiveness was the goal.

Would arresting him officially be useful? She no longer thought Espinoza had been directly involved with kidnapping his daughter, but the warrant was still valid, and Espinoza was the sort of man to find professional embarrassment worse than private ones. Letting his colleagues see him in handcuffs might help loosen his lips, but it was the kind of trump card that could only be played once.

He could just as easily shut his mouth and stop cooperating. Love for his daughter would probably override that wounded pride impulse, but they didn’t seem very close, so maybe it wouldn’t and by the time he was willing to talk, it would probably be too late.

Price took a few steps back as Espinoza got up again to pace. The conference room didn’t have one-way mirrors, and though the blinds were mostly shut, she didn’t want him to see her studying him.

She checked her hair, on instinct took it down, and re-arranged into Detective Decker’s usual hairstyle. Luckily, they were both blonde. It might do nothing, but it might help her push him one way or the other.

Michael turned the corner at that moment, saw what she was doing and grinned, connecting the dots easily familiar as he was to her tactics.

“So, you’re going for the soft approach?”

“Yes,” Price nodded firmly. “Stay here and watch his reactions for me. Only interfere if I give the word.”

“Sure, I have the warrant here, what do you want me to do with it?”

“Keep it hidden for now. If this doesn’t crack him, we’ll change approach. Ready?”

“Always.”

She smiled, and headed inside.

“Detective?” She called gently, “I just have a few more questions?”

***#

Dan was sat cooling his heels in a conference room feeling hassled and strained. He couldn’t believe Chloe. He’d thought she was better than that. But no, once again she’d walked out of the station with Lucifer Fucking Morningstar.

Freaking psychopath.

Why couldn’t she see it? He was bad news but she just kept falling deeper and deeper into his spell.

“You know, I get it,” Agent Price said sympathetically after they’d shared a quiet moment, “I’ve met Mr Morningstar too.”

Dan grunted. He didn’t want to talk about Lucifer. He wanted to bash some heads until he rescued Trixie.

“He’s very attractive isn’t he?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Dan knew right then he had to warn her before she became another Chloe. The last thing he needed was the freaking Feds distracted from finding his daughter.

“He’s a psychopath,” he said bluntly, hoping to shock her out of it.

“Oh come on, that’s too harsh,” Price laughed softly, shaking her head, blonde hair falling back over her face.

“It’s the truth,” Dan urged, leaning forward across the table and taking her hand in his. “Something is seriously wrong with that man and no one can see it! You need to be careful. He’s dangerous.”

He was getting through to her, he could tell.

“Dangerous?” Price frowned, “He’s a civilian consultant. If you have some sort of evidence, this is something you ought to be telling your lieutenant.”

Dan snorted and let go of her, slouching back in his chair. Talk to Olivia about Lucifer? Yeah right. He folded his arms.

“He’s fucked her too,” Dan replied shortly. Jesus fucking Christ this was a mess. How was he going to get rid of Lucifer if he’d already bedded all of his superiors?

“Too?”

His smile was bitter. This girl was pretty sharp.

“You saw my wife leave with him.” Dan shook his head. For god’s sake, they weren’t even legally divorced yet, but every one knew. He seethed each and every time his friends stopped talking when he walked into the break room. Did Chloe have to make it that fucking obvious that she was cuckolding him? It was humiliating. Even Lucifer’s usual parade of whores knew who Chloe was. The bombshell in the red had been the last straw as far as Dan was concerned. He was done with her.

“Ah, I see. I’m so sorry. That just isn’t right, why my mother would have given me a right – well, never mind that just now. I wanted to ask if you’d had any thoughts on our previous conversation?”

“Enemies? Well, Chloe’s made quite a few. Have you heard about Palmetto?” Dan asked interested despite himself.

Price nodded. Dan wasn’t surprised; it was still pretty recent gossip and Chloe kept drawing attention to herself with her little stunts. People talked.

“Yeah, Chloe really ruffled feathers there with her snooping. It got pretty bad for a while there. She was nearly forced out of a job.”

“Any names for me?” Price smiled encouragingly.

Dan shrugged, feeling a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He knew he needed to guide the girl away from this topic and fast. “If only. It was all wrapped up. Tony of all people,” Dan sighed. It was a shame, that, but what was done was done. “But he blew his brains out a couple a months back. Definitely not involved, and he’s the only one I can think of.”

“So Detective Decker was right all along huh? That must have stung.”

Dan blinked, a little take aback by the throwaway comment. He shrugged it off.

“Yeah, she was. She’s a stubborn one alright.” Oh, the memories… if his grin was a little lecherous, well, she was his wife.

“And how long was she on the outs with your colleagues for?” Price asked, diligently writing notes.

“Er, well, ever since it happened really.” Dan shifted in his seat. Palmetto had been what, nine months ago? Had it really been that long?

“And you just let her tough it out did you? Your own wife? Dinner must have been tense.”

“Hey, it wasn’t like that,” Dan defended instantly. “I did what I could, but Chloe had to learn how to play the game eventually.”

Price’s smile was sympathetic.

“No wonder she’s dating Mr Morningstar then. How’d that make you feel, Dan?”

Suddenly the girl – no, the FBI Agent – wasn’t smiling anymore. Dan didn’t like the way she was looking at him either. It made him feel cold inside.

“No wonder?” He tried, “The guy’s insane!” Obviously, she hadn’t been listening at all. Fucking Lucifer strikes again.

Holding up a hand, Price started ticking off qualities with a smirk, “Handsome, charming, rich, excellent in bed by all accounts,” she raised a condescending eyebrow but Dan refused to feel inadequate. He’d heard that one too often before. “And I hear that he’s good with Trixie too.”

Dan felt a vein throb in his forehead and fought to keep his temper.

“I’ve been through this many times before, Dan. I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen couples tear each other apart with the stress and the blame and the guilt. When I’m lucky though, I see a couple like that. They’ve really pulled together. It’s the kind of thing that restores my faith in humanity.” She shook her head seeming fond of all things. “I’ve heard he’s funded a reward for information – and it’s not stingy. Mr Morningstar’s barely left her side since she called him at god knows what hour yesterday morning. That’s real commitment there, Dan. You don’t do that much unless you care.”

Dan fisted his hands under the table and gritted his teeth. It was too much.

“Oh yeah, and what good has it done? Where the fuck is my daughter? Huh? Yeah, that’s right, about to be sold raped and murdered. Brilliant assist there. Fuck you all very much. You’re not here. You don’t know what it’s like.”

Agent Price didn’t even have the decency to flinch.

“What’s its like for you, you mean, Mr. Espinoza?” she replied as cool as a cucumber. “The reject? The office joke? Personally, I’d call that karma, but I suppose insecurity does explain your recent finances.”

With that, she tossed a few sheets of paper on the desk between them – and Dan didn’t have to look to know they were his bank statements. She tapped meaningfully on a few entries, helpfully highlighted in bright neon yellow.

“You’ve withdrawn huge amounts of cash, Dan. Between you and me, this is the sort of information the FBI find very interesting. It’s looks suspicious, like you’re preparing to run if nothing else. Or is this a mid-life crisis?”

Dan choked. “What?” He was hardly middle-aged.

“It’s not uncommon,” Price said breezily. “Your wife moves on to better things, you feel abandoned and betrayed, your friends tease you, and you make yourself feel better about it all by buying things you can’t afford. But you ran out, didn’t you, so what happened Dan? Did you borrow dirty money? Miss a repayment? Is that why someone kidnapped Trixie? No offence to Detective Decker, but this is L.A. There are far more prominent people The Collector could have targeted. Unless of course, there were other motivations involved.”

“I-, I-,” Dan was speechless. He’d been lambasted with accusation after accusation and he hadn’t been ready for any of it. He jumped to his feet, leaning over the desk and putting his fists on the table. “Stop harassing me and do your fucking job,” he raged, looming over the woman. “I am not involved. I’m a good man and a good cop, and the only thing I want is my daughter back.”

“Uh huh,” Price agreed placidly, her hand tapping on the desk, she raised an eyebrow at him, absolutely unconcerned, the bitch.

“Price?” Michael poked his head around the door, knocking on it as he entered, “The warrants come through, do you want the honours or shall I?”

There were handcuffs glinting by his side.

Strength draining, Dan collapsed into his chair, feeling pale and shaky. He knew the statistics. Children were more likely to be kidnapped by a family member than a stranger, especially with a divorce on the horizon. Of course the Feds would – but Dan had never thought he’d be – it was obvious wasn’t it – they weren’t listening - someone else had already taken credit – it had to be a mistake – he had an alibi – fuck fuck fuck – everyone was outside – what were they going to think – to say – oh shit – Chloe would hear – and fucking Lucifer and -

“Look,” he offered desperately, palms outstretched, “I can explain. That cash was all for Malcolm, alright? Malcolm Graham. He’s been blackmailing me for months.”

****#

Connor stood immediately, proving that he had been eavesdropping, no matter what his headphones implied. He stood in front of where they were curled up on the couch – or at least, she was curled, Lucifer was doing his artful lounging thing that managed both elegance and a dangerous nonchalance. He probably practiced it.

Connor only sat down when Lucifer waved a hand permissively. Chloe tried not to let her expression give her distaste away, but she wished she hadn’t seen that interaction. She’d resolved to keep her mouth shut until she Trixie back, unwilling to damage Lucifer’s position unknowingly and waste time, but she didn’t like what she’d seen of Lucifer’s world and she hated being reminded of her selfishness.

“OK, so as you know I’ve been monitoring the FBI team as well as investigating myself,” Connor began quickly, his voice reassuring confident. “I’m into the station’s systems and everyone who is anyone’s phones too, luckily. Well, it’s not actually luck, it’s skill but –“ Connor looked up and quickly looked back down at his tablet and hurried on. “Anyway, the FBI team are constantly updating each other with texts and emails so I have a pretty good idea of what they’ve done.”

“News item one, is that they’ve investigated Espinoza’s finances and found about ten thousand dollars worth withdrawn in cash over the past two months. They used that and the warrant to pressure him and he’s named names. Main one being Malcolm Graham – I’ve looked into it, and the guy’s gone mad by what I can see. Spent all of his savings, running wild, and very hard up on cash right now. A dirty cop, and looks like he and Espinoza were in it together. He’s made some sort of deal with the feds it seems, but he’s confessed to a whole bunch of stuff.”

Chloe let out a long slow sigh, and suddenly felt very old and very tired. She wrapped her arms around herself for comfort, and let her spine unwind, dropping her head into Lucifer’s shoulder and appreciating, for once, the arm that instantly curled around her shoulders.

The hits just kept coming. It was almost too much for her mind to absorb.

She didn’t doubt that Connor was telling the truth. It had been just that sort of a day. Dan. Her husband. Father of her child – and he’d betrayed her.

Why was she even surprised?

Dirty cop; which meant…

Oh god. Chloe groaned aloud and Connor’s voice trailed off. Lucifer’s arm around her tightened, but by then she was too lost in her thoughts to pay it any attention.

Malcolm was dirty. She’d been right. He had been on the take that night at Palmetto. The vindication felt hollow amongst everything else.

Because there had been five men in that room.

If Malcolm and Dan were both dirty then – then Dan was the other shooter. He must have been in the passage, and he must have been black with dirt to be told about that passage in the first place.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Five men had been in that shootout. Three had left in body bags, one in an ambulance, and Dan alone had walked out scot-free.

Had he come home injured? She couldn’t remember any blood or anything, but obviously, Dan had been skilled at lying to her even then. She hadn’t thought to doubt him, and without that suspicion, she wouldn’t have paid close enough attention to know of any injuries.

Holy fuck. Dan was a murderer.

There had never been a ballistics report – another thing that had made Chloe suspicious. A cop had been shot the department should have been all over it, raining hellfire and brimstone, but it had been swept under the rug or near enough.

Maybe there had been a ballistics report – god knows Chloe hadn’t been let anywhere near the investigation such as it was after the first accusation had been made. What had it said?

Malcolm couldn’t have killed all three gang bangers alone. It had all been so quick – but Chloe doubted Malcolm had had time to shoot all three before being shot himself. His aim wasn’t that good.

Which brought her mind spiralling back to the point. Dan had to have killed somebody in that room, statistically speaking if nothing else.

He’d been in the passage. Covering for Malcolm? Something had gone wrong? They’d shot Malcolm, and Dan tried to protect him?

It didn’t matter, did it?

Either way they hadn’t been there on official business. It hadn’t been a sting, it wasn’t the police against gang members there was no legal defence here. It was a deal gone wrong.

Dan was a murderer.

And he was her husband.

She called herself a cop?

It was a sick joke.

Her husband – and no wonder he’d pressured her at work and at home to keep her head down like it was OK to just let murderers walk free. No fucking wonder. Months she’d been outcast – months, and he hadn’t said a word. Her life had been Hell. She’d been worst than an outcast, she’d been lower than a dog to the rest of that office – and Dan had let it happen. He’d encouraged it, piling the pressure on.He’d left first. Told their colleagues she was obsessed. Made it all her fault in their eyes. They’d spat in her coffee, lost her paperwork, and would have tripped her in the corridor’s if she hadn’t been watching for it by then.

She’d nearly been fired a dozen times. She’d had to take the worst cases, upstairs just looking for an excuse to fire her. She’d bent her head and said ‘yes, sir, no sir, I understand sir,’ and done her job even without the slightest bit of help or respect before Lucifer turned up. For fuck’s sake she’d been reduced to begging her mother for a place to live rent-free, she’d been that sure she was about to be fired and didn’t dare take the risk of another year on the lease alone.

Dan had done that to her.

Worse, she’d gone right back to Dan when she’d needed help investigating Malcolm. Dan who’d come back to her – after Lucifer appeared, naturally – and Dan who must have falsified evidence, lied, and fuck that meant Tony hadn’t killed himself, he’d been murdered too and just how far did this all go? Dan had stolen that 911 key, the 911 key she’d discovered and asked him to investigate. How could she have been so stupid? He’d falsified evidence, and who knew what else.

He’d betrayed her. He’d lied to her. She’d trusted him. She’d believed him. She’d suffered because of him. Trixie had suffered.

Trixie.

Thoughts of her daughter who needed her let Chloe draw herself out of her grey spiral of misery and back into her body, where Lucifer’s voice greeted her return to sanity.

“Oh come now Detective. I know you’re unnaturally attached to that creature but must you really ruin my shirt over him? It’s Prada for Hell’s sake. Why do you never ruin my other suits? Do you have a grudge against Prada that I don’t know about? I admit the man was a misogynist at best, and terrible in the sack mind you but – “

“You aren’t even a little bit surprised?” She asked, tilting her chin from its position on his chest to peer up at him through perfectly dry eyes thank you very much. This wasn’t a break down, just a hasty regroup before the next battle. “You’ve known Dan for over a year and this isn’t even a little bit alarming?”

Lucifer actually rolled his eyes the insensitive bastard. Chloe didn’t bother to resist the temptation to whack him on the arm. Amazingly, she felt calmer and her head seemed clearer just listening to his usual rant. This was familiar. This was safe.

“So the Detective Douche is revealed to be a douche. Yes, my dear, big surprise there.”

Huh. Chloe leaned back and sat straight, eyeing him carefully.

No, no Lucifer wasn’t surprised in the slightest. She knew he didn’t care for Dan, but they’d spent hours and hours in each other’s reluctant company. There ought to be some reaction. And yet there really wasn’t. Lucifer was acting… well, acting like he’d known all along.

…He had called Dan a douche from the beginning – but he couldn’t possibly be implying – no, that was silly. Lucifer, perfectly reasonably, just wasn’t as emotionally invested as she was and thus wasn’t so affected.

Unfortunately, she just couldn’t leave it alone. It was too good of a distraction for her inundated thoughts.

“You knew him for a dirty cop on sight then?” She scoffed, but her heart wasn’t in it – and judging by his expression, he could tell.

“I know sin, Detective. In fact you might say that it’s the family business.”

Right she was stopping that right there. If Dan had had any under the table dealings with Lucifer’s extended family, she didn’t want to know.

“He’ll pay for them Detective,” Lucifer said. So certain was his faith that she felt drawn into his orbit. His will be done. Maybe Lucifer was a black hole in the shadow of the void or maybe he was a star blazing away in the heavens, either way, Chloe was just as certain as he, that getting too close would destroy her.

“Everyone must, in the end. There is a Judge.”

It was not a guess.

She wanted to laugh. She really, really, did, Lucifer on another one of his rants… a masterful act… method acting… PR stunt… but even inside her own head she couldn’t muster the energy.

For the first time, Chloe wanted him to be right.

It wasn’t fair. Dan had hurt her. When it came down to it, he’d really, really hurt her right in the soul and she just ached with the lies built on lies and soaked in murder and corruption and theft and…sin. Eugh, Lucifer’s Luciferness was infectious. She shouldn’t even be thinking that word around Lucifer, but there it was.

Sin. It was an ancient word, drenched in thousand of years of dogma, but it was the first one that came to mind when she thought of Dan and what he’d done to her and – hold on a sec – she was in pain, not stupid –

“What does this have to do with Trixie?” she asked Connor quietly, eyes ablaze but voice as rough as if she hadn’t spoken in months. Any other day she’d be embarrassed about having a conversation like that in front of a stranger, but not today.

Connor didn’t look to Lucifer before answering her.

“Malcolm’s been identified as the leak within the department. There’s a warrant for his arrest and the FBI are pretty sure he’s the one who picked your daughter up from school and who worked with the Collector. Espinoza said Malcolm had been blackmailing him for cash – and there’s an untraceable deposit in Malcolm’s accounts. They think the Collector paid him off.”

“Of course he did,” Chloe replied flatly. Trixie had known Malcolm, not very well, but he’d worked with Dan so often they’d always been running into each other. Malcolm wouldn’t even have needed to trick Trixie into the car; Dan had sent him for her before.

She would have trusted him.