Detective Carl Horvath’s POV

I turn to Barney and say, “Keep it running.”

I leave the car and enter the diner.

Damn… this place is packed to the rafters… all these people are waiting for a table?  The food’s not that good.  Where is Kinney?

Deb is standing near the door and sees me as soon as I enter.  She opens her mouth to shout a greeting, but I shush her with a hand signal.  She looks like she swallowed an egg when I quiet her, but she quickly recovers.  She weaves through the crowd, shoving and smacking shoulders and backs, to get over me.  When she reaches me, she leans into my shoulder and whispers, “What is it?  Did you find him?”

I shake my head ‘no’. 

She hangs her head in frustrated pain.  I gather her in my right arm and give her a hug.  It’s been awhile since I gave someone a hug.  I guess I’m out of practice, but I seem to manage it okay. 

She feels good.  She places her hand on my cheek.  I like it when she does that, it feels good.  It’s like her hands can send warmth and comfort into my body.

I whisper into her ear, “Let’s keep this quiet.  I need to talk to Brian Kinney.” 

Deb’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.  I bump my index finger against my lips, reminding her to keep quiet.  I quickly reassure her with, “It’s fine.  Nothing’s going on.  Okay?  Just routine stuff.”

She attempts a smile and points me in the direction of one of my three prime suspects.

I give her a reassuring squeeze, then I make my way the through the noisy, jostling crowd, until I end up at Kinney’s table. 

He’s got three guys sitting with him.  A couple of them look familiar.  Deb’s son is there, Michael. 

I casually smack Kinney’s chest with the back of my hand; he jumps because I’ve taken him by complete surprise.  A tendril of anger tightens my throat and I quietly croak out, “Get up, you’re coming with me.”  

Kinney hesitates so I discretely grab his upper arm and squeeze it hard.  I hiss into his ear, “I said get up, now.  You can pick the way you want to go – calmly or in pain.”

Kinney slowly gets up and I now notice that Michael, who is sitting next to Kinney, starts getting upset and is clambering out of the booth to join us   I stop him with a warning hand.  In a subdued but firm tone of voice, I say, “Stop right there, buddy.  Do not interfere with official police business.  Get back.”

I’m almost embarrassed for Debbie, because Michael starts to whimpers in protest and then loudly whines out a call, trying to get her attention.  “Waiiiit, what’s going on?  Brian, don’t go with him!  Where’s Maw?  Maw?”  Fortunately, for everyone concerned, the noise of the crowd makes his efforts useless.

Kinney lowers his voice and tries to silence Michael with, “Shut up, Michael!  Sit down and stay out of this!” 

Unfortunately, Michael isn’t the most obedient or smartest pup in the litter.  He starts babbling back a protest and it looks like he’s going to try to leave the booth again.  Suddenly, one of the guys sitting on the other side of the booth’s table - a big, muscular, nice looking kind of guy - reaches over and grabs Michael, and pulls him back into the seat.  Then, the guy then holds Michael in place, and starts whispering good sense to him.  He tells Michael to calm down, sit still, or he’ll get Brian into trouble by his interfering. 

The guy got his point across and Michael doesn’t move, but now he looks like he’s about to cry. 

Yeah … Deb told me that she had her fair share of strife and struggle for most of her life.  I bet dimes-to-donuts, that Michael’s middle name is “Strife-and-Struggles.”

I secure my grip on Kinney’s upper arm and whisper in his ear, “Don’t be a smartass and try to set off this crowd.” 

There’s always the potential of a calm crowd turning into a rioting horde.  It can start like a flash fire, especially in a crowd that’s charged up or have some sort of emotional connection – like the fights that break out in the stands at sporting events, and then spread out, disrupting the game.  So, that’s why I’m rushing him out of here.  I don’t want these guys proving to me that they know how to throw a punch. 

Kinney throws me an exasperated, smart-aleck look; that’s his way of telling me that he’s not going to try anything stupid.

Leaving the diner is proving to be far easier than when I entered.  It’s actually turning into a weird experience.  The crowd parts for us, like the sea opening for Moses.   It’s as if they can sense that Kinney is near, or maybe they’ve been covertly watching him.  For whatever reason, the crowd separates for him as soon as he starts walking through them.

Shit, Kinney’s got some kind of weird power over these fruits…  I gotta stop saying shit like that, or it’ll come out when I’m not thinking… Deb won’t like it…

They’re all giving him the come-hither look, which kind of gives me the creeps.  I had heard rumored crap that he was some kind of major stud of something; but, I didn’t think anything of it.

I sure as hell didn’t expect this.  This is some kind of weird… I feel like fucking royalty, here… man, I wonder if they’re going to start bowing?  This is some shit! 

As soon as we’re out of the joint, I make a quick B-line for the car while hauling Kinney along with me.  I open the back door and shove Kinney in, then jump in the front seat beside Barney.  Before my door is completely closed, Barney peels out of there.

We ride in silence.  I glance back and check on Kinney from time to time.  Each time I do, he lifts a mocking eyebrow at me, or he does this tongue-in-cheek thing. 

Don’t push me Kinney; I’m this close to back-handing you right now.   You’re just lucky that I don’t do that kind of shit.

Barney drives to “our place” – a private place inside an abandoned lumber yard where we take informants and similar scum to talk without interruption, or worry about prying eyes and ears.

I get out, open the back to door, and motion Kinney to get out.  He does.  I slam the door.

I see Kinney bracing himself.  I guess he’s expecting a shake down, and well… he should.

Barney walks up behind him, we’ve got him surrounded.

Kinney now looks real tensed and tight, ready for something, but he’s not sure what’s coming.  He glares at me.

Damn, I’ll give him this - the guy’s got balls.  He’s not one of those limp wrist f-… , I mean ‘guys.’  He’s just a guy-guy, from a tough, blue collar neighborhood...

I place my hands on my hips and ask him in an even-toned, quiet voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He doesn’t respond; he looks suspiciously back at me.  His hair has slipped into his eyes; he doesn’t bother to move it.  He’s using it as a shield so I can’t see his eyes.  But, I know he’s watching my every move.  He’s watching Barney, too.  He keeps twisting around, trying to see where he’s standing.

After a short pause, I continue, “Ethan Gold tried to file a restraining order against you, today.  He said you chased him last night - with intent to do bodily harm!  What the fuck, Kinney?”

Kinney curls his lips into his mouth, crosses his arms, and looks down at his expensive shoes.

Barney slowly walks over to me, now Kinney doesn’t have to twist to see him.  We’re not going to fuck with his head anymore.  We’ve got to get through to this guy.

Barney jumps in with his two-cents worth, “On top of that, some old lady calls 911, yelling for the police and fire department!  She says some maniac is trashing her alley.  But, she’s like… ”

Barney starts flapping his hands in the air and tries to sound like an old lady talking, ”…she’s like, ‘Oh please come help the handsome young man before he hurts himself!’”

I laugh at Barney’s imitation.  Barney joins me laughing.  Kinney looks rightfully embarrassed. 

Barney’s not finished kicking Kinney’s can. “Our people get there - the alley is a disaster.  Public and private property is destroyed.  But, that old lady really had a boner for you, pretty boy!  Oh yeah!  She ain’t going to press charges – she’s too worried about your welfare.  Oh, and her description of you is so damn detailed, even the detail of your ‘lovely auburn hair’!

But here’s the best part, nimrod - the building’s got a surveillance camera there in the alley!  You jackass!  You didn’t fucking even think to check before you started going ape-shit!  Jesus Christ!” 

I chuckle at Barney’s smartass remarks.  He is really funny at times. 

I jump back in and bring home our point.  “If Gold finds out about all of this shit, he could use it for his restraining order.  Right now, you’re lucky ‘coz he’s got no record of you harassing him or real witnesses that heard or saw you threaten him… KINNEY, are you fucking listening to me?”

Kinney straightens his posture and I can see him clenching and unclenching his jaw.  He’s making an effort to curb his tongue.  But his tongue wins out.

“He did something to Sunsh… Justin.  He’s why Justin is missing.  I KNOW IT!”

“Fine, you’re entitled to your opinion!  He is a suspect – and I’m looking at another one - right here in front of me!  Listen, just leave the little chin rat alone.” 

Damn.  Ever since I heard Kinney use that phrase, ‘chin rat,’ to describe Ethan Gold, it’s been stuck in my brain.  It’s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Gold.  I see a smile creep across Kinney’s face; it seems he liked the fact that I used that phrase.

He looks at me for a long moment, then takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  “Okay, fine… I… fine…”

I slowly walk over to him, stop in front him, and then surprise myself by patting him on his upper arm.  He’s an asshole… but… he’s an ‘Okay Joe’ as they used to say in my day. 

And he’s a suspect… I’m really walking a thin line here, and can’t believe I’m doing it… Debbie has a way with me.

I take a few steps back and clear my throat.  “Stay away, stay cool.  Get a hobby, take up knitting, I don’t give a fuck what you do to keep you busy – but stay away from Gold.  You aren’t helping us, you’re confusing the case.  You’re drawing attention to yourself, and all the wrong kind of attention!  Stay back and let us do our job or I’ll arrest you for obstructing an investigation!  Capiche?”

He nods his head.

I hold my index finger up in front of his face, “This is your one and only warning.  And I’m only doing this ‘coz of Debbie… I could get in a lot of trouble for doing this.  By the way, you won’t ever talk about this little coffee break we’re having here, and if you do, you better remember it was just you and me, not Barney?  Got it?”

Barney immediately starts to argue with me, but I give him a look that says, ‘Not in front of the suspect, dear.’  He shuts up.

I look back at the Kinney for my answer.   He looks like he’s swirling around in a tornado of emotions, but he looks compliant.  He responds composed and quietly, “Okay, got it.  No worries.” 

Enough of this warm and fuzzy shit.

I point to the car and gruffly tell him to “… get the fuck in the car.  We’ll drop you back at the diner.  Unlike you - who has enough time to stalk people and lounge around in a diner - some of us work for a living!  Let’s go Barney.”

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Later that day, a call comes into the precinct.  A man, who was walking his dog by the river, made a disturbing discovery.

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