“You left Shaw with that maniac?”

“He’ll be ok.”

“He won’t be ok. He’s in shock, and in case you hadn’t noticed, your partner is unstable. No. He’s beyond unstable. He put his fist through the fucking wall, and he looks like he’s having a breakdown.” North stood. “I cannot believe you left Shaw with him. I’m going to—”

“Sit down, please.”

“No fucking way.”

“Sit down.”

North studied the pretty boy. He could take Reck if he had to. Reck was bigger, but not by much, and Reck looked too groomed to really know how to land a punch, even if he was a cop.

Then Reck sighed. “I asked a patrol officer—discreetly—to keep an eye on things and let me know if Barr got rough with Mr. Aldrich. So will you sit down?”

After another moment, just to make his point, North dropped into the chair.

“This is a high-profile case, and my partner is under a lot of—”

“What do you know about Matty Fennmore?”

Reck blinked. His dark eyes were liquid, and they seemed to be absorbing North in a decidedly new way that North didn’t like. All Reck said was, “This is an ongoing investigation. Now, I’d like you talk me through what happened tonight.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“I told you: Detective Barr is under a lot of strain. He’s a good cop. He’s a great cop. You know he started this task force single-handedly? The LGBT task force. That’s his creation. He made it possible for our people to have a voice in the department, to have recourse.”

“Our people? So that’s why you’re always looking at Shaw like you want to spit-roast him?”

A hint of red crept into Reck’s tan cheeks, but all he said was, “Did you know that my partner is the one who caught the West End Slasher? He damn near died doing it, too. The knife nicked the femoral artery; he was lucky Barnes Jewish was two blocks away. My partner caught the guy that carved up your partner. Yeah. I know who Shaw Aldrich is. And so I’m going to say this one time, and one time only: you don’t have to like Detective Barr, but don’t ever suggest he’s not a good cop. Not while I’m around. Not if you have any fucking respect for what he did for Shaw.” Reck’s voice took on a mocking softness when he said the name.

“Shaw doesn’t think he caught the real Slasher.”

“Shaw got hurt by that man. Badly. I wouldn’t blame him if he saw the Slasher in every shadow for the rest of his life.”

“You’re dodging my question about Matty Fennmore. Is he dangerous?”

Reck’s voice was cool. “Talk me through tonight.”

So North did it all again, and he hoped that Shaw, no matter how upset he was, had managed to keep his head through the interview. The last thing they needed were obstruction charges or trespassing charges or Christ knew what else Barr might bring down on them.