little from the venom in Joe's voice. "Maybe. He's bald in the pictures we have." He opened the folder and took out a picture. It was a family photo, a few years old. A woman, maybe thirty, looking a little worn, was holding a small child. Two girls were standing next to her, one on either side. The younger of the two was Stephanie, the older must've been her sister the resemblance was so strong. And to their left was Billy. Bald, wearing a t-shirt and black leather vest. He was bulky, like he worked out a lot and drank even more. Tattoos were clear on both arms, bits of his face were pierced, and even in the picture you could see he was freckled all over. His head was shaved bare.
"Bastard. Utter, fucking bastard ," Joe spat. "583-5555."
Chris' eyes narrowed. He was suddenly very angry. Joe obviously knew and hated this guy. Chris could only think he had to be an ex-boyfriend. He didn't know what was worse; that Joe would date someone obviously married, that he'd date someone who was such a cretin, or that the bastard had hurt Joe so badly.
"So you know him," Chris said. Carefully. Coldly. "That his number?"
"No," Joe said, opening the door and stepping into the rec room. "It's our mother's."
Chris was stunned speechless as Joe went into the room. Joe and Billy O'Malley being related wasn't anything that'd even occurred to him, and there had been nothing in the records he'd found to link them together. The last names were different. Joe was slender while Billy was built like a fat biker. Joe was sophisticated and clever and attractive… Chris shook his head and stopped that line of thought. Yeah, they were both strongly Irish, but that was hardly enough.
The room Joe walked into was done up as a living room. The brick walls had pictures of seascapes and forests hung on them. In one corner was a huge beat up television. There was a pair of couches with worn brown covers over them, and a few tatty Ikea chairs were against one wall.
"Hi Detective Russell," Joe said. His voice had a professional cheeriness to it, hiding the anger still simmering.
Steve was standing by the television. On the couch was Stephanie and Maryanne the social worker who'd met them at the apartments the previous week. Stephanie was wearing a denim dress and the jacket Joe had left with her. She looked nervous.
"Hey, princess," Joe said as he looked at her. She smiled shyly she saw him, and he got a warm feeling in his chest when she did. He felt a little strange about that. If what Chris had said was true she was his niece. It would've been nice if they could have met under better circumstances. It would've been nice if they'd actually met .
"Hi," she said shyly.
He sat down next to her. "You doing okay?"
She snuggled into him. He put his arm around her and pulled her into a hug. "The detectives need to ask you some questions. Right Detective Russell?"
Steve pulled up a hassock in front of Stephanie and leaned in towards her. He was trying hard to seem harmless, though it was difficult for a man that large to do so.
"Stephanie," Steve said softly. This was one of the things he hated most about his job. He could handle the drugs and the violence and the despair. Even the bodies weren't as bad as this, pushing kids back into the darkness., back to the monsters. "I need you to tell me who was in your apartment last Friday."
Stephanie started to shiver. Joe pulled her up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm here, princess," he said. "I know it's tough. You're safe, though. I've got you. You can do this."
Joe started gently rocking her, humming tunelessly until he felt her relax.
"I had a bad dream about Daddy," she said. "But Mommy told me he wasn't coming back and we were safe. We were eating breakfast," she said. "Ricky was
"Bastard. Utter, fucking bastard ," Joe spat. "583-5555."
Chris' eyes narrowed. He was suddenly very angry. Joe obviously knew and hated this guy. Chris could only think he had to be an ex-boyfriend. He didn't know what was worse; that Joe would date someone obviously married, that he'd date someone who was such a cretin, or that the bastard had hurt Joe so badly.
"So you know him," Chris said. Carefully. Coldly. "That his number?"
"No," Joe said, opening the door and stepping into the rec room. "It's our mother's."
Chris was stunned speechless as Joe went into the room. Joe and Billy O'Malley being related wasn't anything that'd even occurred to him, and there had been nothing in the records he'd found to link them together. The last names were different. Joe was slender while Billy was built like a fat biker. Joe was sophisticated and clever and attractive… Chris shook his head and stopped that line of thought. Yeah, they were both strongly Irish, but that was hardly enough.
The room Joe walked into was done up as a living room. The brick walls had pictures of seascapes and forests hung on them. In one corner was a huge beat up television. There was a pair of couches with worn brown covers over them, and a few tatty Ikea chairs were against one wall.
"Hi Detective Russell," Joe said. His voice had a professional cheeriness to it, hiding the anger still simmering.
Steve was standing by the television. On the couch was Stephanie and Maryanne the social worker who'd met them at the apartments the previous week. Stephanie was wearing a denim dress and the jacket Joe had left with her. She looked nervous.
"Hey, princess," Joe said as he looked at her. She smiled shyly she saw him, and he got a warm feeling in his chest when she did. He felt a little strange about that. If what Chris had said was true she was his niece. It would've been nice if they could have met under better circumstances. It would've been nice if they'd actually met .
"Hi," she said shyly.
He sat down next to her. "You doing okay?"
She snuggled into him. He put his arm around her and pulled her into a hug. "The detectives need to ask you some questions. Right Detective Russell?"
Steve pulled up a hassock in front of Stephanie and leaned in towards her. He was trying hard to seem harmless, though it was difficult for a man that large to do so.
"Stephanie," Steve said softly. This was one of the things he hated most about his job. He could handle the drugs and the violence and the despair. Even the bodies weren't as bad as this, pushing kids back into the darkness., back to the monsters. "I need you to tell me who was in your apartment last Friday."
Stephanie started to shiver. Joe pulled her up onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm here, princess," he said. "I know it's tough. You're safe, though. I've got you. You can do this."
Joe started gently rocking her, humming tunelessly until he felt her relax.
"I had a bad dream about Daddy," she said. "But Mommy told me he wasn't coming back and we were safe. We were eating breakfast," she said. "Ricky was
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