Hate (I Really Don't Like You)

When Gerard wakes up, it’s already morning. He looks around in surprise, but he knows he really needed that. Without any remorse for his long snooze, Gerard gets up and heads to work, because he’s actually running a bit late.

The bags under his eyes are much less significant in the mirror today because he actually slept. He feels light years better than he had yesterday, and not nearly as pressured, though there is still a weight there in his stomach from this case.

As he walks out of the apartment, he sees Mikey sprawled out on the couch in a makeshift bed. He smiles bitter-sweetly at the fact that Mikey actually stayed to check on him. With a small amused shake of his head, he closes the door and heads off to work.

He's just sat down in his office when Brendon knocks on his door.

"Mrs. Rosessen and her husband are here and they’re in the confession room. Patrick is already in there with them, we need you to go and help out and see what's up."

Gerard, in a significantly better mood than the day before, nods and gets up without comment. Maybe he’ll find Frank and try to apologize for being an ass the day before. He still doesn't like the kid, but that doesn't mean that he has to show just how much.

“Feeling better?” Brendon asks.

“Much.”

Brendon leads the way to the confession room with a one way mirror, where Frank and Hayley are watching from the outside. Gerard enters the room quietly and they both turn to look at him. Frank looks less than pleased to see him, which is understandable.

"They came in this morning with a cellphone and the recorded voicemail of the demanded ransom. Although, Mrs. Rosessen seemed a little reluctant to hand over the phone," Brendon says.

Gerard takes in this information with a nod and moves to open the door to the other side of the room where the mirror is just a mirror.

“Patrick, I’ll handle this from here,” Gerard says, and Patrick nods, getting up and walking out quickly.

Gerard turns and looks at the four other people in the room behind him, “come on Frank, you could use some hands on experience.”

Frank falters for a minute before following Gerard into the room, and closing the door behind him as they both take seats in front of the married couple. Frank joins in beside him quietly and begins to look at Mrs. Rosessen with suspicion.

"So it seems as though you have been contacted by the perpetrator," Gerard states with accusation lacing his words. The small kick he receives from Frank sends a flare of annoyance through his system, and it takes all of his willpower to not kick back, twice as hard.

Mrs. Rosessen shifts uncomfortably as Mr. Rosessen nods. Gerard looks down at the file to see the names written down there. Diana and Noel Rosesson, but it’s more proper to use their last names.

"You must understand, my wife was terrified. She had been threatened with not only her life, but the life of our daughter if she told the police of the voicemail," Mr. Rosessen pleads, obviously wanting to get over with the entire investigation and be reunited with his daughter.

"I understand Mr. Rosessen," Gerard nods slowly, "but you must realize that we are only here to help. If you want to find your daughter, you're going to need to be honest with us whenever asked."

Mr. Rosessen nods furiously muttering an affirmative reply, while his wife just sighs and looks at the table in front of her.

"Mrs. Rosessen, is there a problem?" Frank asks with slightly narrowed eyes. Gerard turns to look at him disbelievingly. What is it with Frank and Mrs. Rosessen? He seems to not like her or trust anything she says or does; always second guessing her answers.

Mrs. Rosessen looks up with wide eyes for a second before composing herself, causing Frank’s eyes to narrow further.

"I'm just worried about my daughter. What if she never comes back? What if that bastard hurts my little girl?" She croaks, leaning into her hand on the table. Mr. Rosessen rubs her back soothingly, murmuring reassurances in her ear.

"Mrs. Rosessen, I'm going to try my very best to get your daughter back safe and sound. Now let’s hear the voicemail and take it from there," Gerard leans back in his chair, waiting.

Mrs. Rosessen nods and places her phone on the table after pressing a few buttons. After a few moments, a deep voice, obviously having gone through a voice disguiser, emits from the speaker.

"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Rosessen, I hope you hear this message before it’s too late. I know what you are. I know everything about you, and I am not afraid to expose you. I also have something very precious of yours by the name of Lily. She is okay I promise, but she may not be for long," the voice goes on to explain how they’re meant to pay the ransom followed by a chilling recording of a little girl being told to ‘speak up for the microphone’ which is pretty freaky.

“We have until noon tomorrow,” Gerard repeats. Tomorrow will be Saturday, the day they specified.

“Okay… well our specialists in the office are going to have to evaluate that message, see if we can’t dissect that voice and get a real impression of who our kidnapper is,” Gerard says.

“Do you know what they meant by, ‘I know what you are,’ Mrs. Rosessen?” Frank asks, looking at her expectantly.

“Wha-,” she looks offended, “how should I know? They could be referring to anything.”

Frank rolls his eyes and says with a disbelieving smirk, “Yeah. Anything.”

“I’m going to take my associate away now,” Gerard says, and grabs Frank painfully, pulling him out of his seat and back into the observation room, where the other three look just as mystified by Frank as Gerard does.

“Frank, go make yourself a coffee, and reconsider what you just said to our victim,” Gerard says, shaking his head.

Frank scoffs but leaves the room anyway so Patrick and Gerard go back into the room to continue.

“I’m sorry about him, he’s in training,” Gerard says.

“Now we have a few more questions to ask, but for now I’m going to have to request that we speak with Mrs. Rosessen alone,” Patrick says giving them both a kind smile that could make a heart melt.

Mr. Rosessen nods and he allows himself to be ushered out of the room by Brendon who walks in quickly and takes him out through the other door, that doesn’t lead into the observing room.

“So, Mrs. Rosessen,“ Gerard says, trying his best to give her a convincing smile, “It’s important that you tell us anything you need to tell us if we are to find your daughter.”

“I have told you everything I know,” She says, gritting her teeth.

“Is there anything you may have neglected to tell us because your husband was in the room?” Patrick asks, looking disappointed in his own bluntness. Patrick has trouble with being too polite sometimes, and it can allow people to try and walk over him.

“What are you insinuating? I am a happily married woman!”

“I never said you weren’t,” Patrick replies, panicking at her reaction. Patrick also does not respond well to being yelled at.

“What he meant by that is whether or not either you or your husband know of anyone who may want to harm you in anyway? It could be a foyer employee, or an ex-lover. Maybe a mistress?”

“My husband is a faithful man, agent.”

Gerard frowns. This lady is not going to talk to him.

“Are you certain that neither you nor your husband may have a target on your back from a significant other?”

“I am certain that no one is after me or my husband because of our love lives,” she snaps.

Gerard just sighs, stands up, and walks out of the room with annoyance.

He walks over to the break room to get himself a coffee, which he doesn’t really need, but it’s become a habit of his.

Gerard finds Frank leaning against the lounge counter, sipping coffee from a black mug.

‘It's now or never,’ Gerard thinks to himself, and he walks over to the small tattooed man. Once Frank catches Gerard's eye, he scowls.

"What? Come to tell me how much of a shrimp I am? Or that I don't belong in the force because of my experience? Or maybe that you want me to step under the nearest falling piano?" Frank spits, his grip on the coffee mug getting so tight that his fingers are going white from the strain. Gerard is a little taken aback by the strong reaction.

"Um, no. Listen Frank-," Gerard starts, trying not to snap at him.

"Save it Gerard,” he says the name like it’s a vile obscenity, “I don't want to hear what you have to say, and frankly I don't care."

Gerard clenches his jaw, "If you would just listen to me-"

"No, I don't care Gerard."

Gerard clenches his fists, beyond frustrated.

"Fine," He snaps, turning on his heel and heading back to his office. If Frank wants to be like that, fine. Two can play at that game.

Notes

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