2019-08-22 - Don't Do Anything Rash

(TXT to Byron) Ruiz: Mr. Thorne. It's Captain de la Vega. I think we have some things to discuss.
(TXT to Ruiz) Byron: Ah, Captain de la Vega. One moment.
(TXT to Ruiz) Byron: (Your phone begins to chime. The caller is listed as Byron Thorne, of all people)
(TXT to Byron) Ruiz: (the phone is answered after three rings, right before it goes to voice mail). Hello?
(TXT to Ruiz) Byron: (Being used to people being taken aback by an actual phone call in this day and age, Byron's voice sounds calm and professional as ever) Captain de la Vega. I received your messagel and I thought that you may prefer conversing over the phone rather than through text message. I know I tend to. (A pause) How may I help you today? Have you found anything new regarding the murders at the Apartments?
(TXT to Byron) Ruiz: (there's a pause before the captain responds) I don't. But I am happy to oblige, regardless. Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. I'm at Bayside right now. Would you like to speak in person, Mr. Thorne?
(TXT to Ruiz) Byron: (A touch of surprise in his voice) You're at the Apartments currently? (brief pause) If that's the case, then yes. Meet me at my office in my apartment. I'll grant you elevator access to the penthouse.
(TXT to Byron) Ruiz: (a little chuckle) Don't sound so surprised. All right, I'll be up in five minutes. click

Ruiz said to give him five minutes, so Byron sets the elevator to accept access to the penthouse for half an hour. After that, anyone trying to reach the penthouse apartment will find it pressing that particular button on the elevator panel to be futile. From inside his spacious living quarters, he hears the ding of the elevator, just across the way from his own apartment door. The door swings open, "Captain de la Vega, please come in."

The interior of the penthouse apartment is just as posh as any other, the space, however, is slightly larger. And rather than having a balcony, he has a rooftop terrace beyond those French doors. It's a nice and clear day outside, thus he's left those doors wide open to bring in some of that bay breeze. The decor is what one may expect for a man like Byron Thorne. Incredibly professional with a lot of state-of-the art gadgets, like that wide screen television and such.

Making his way towards his office, which is nicely situated right near the bar, he asks, "Care for a drink this afternoon? If not alcohol, I can provide coffee or tea as well."

Ten minutes later, the police captain presses that button to take him to the penthouse. A minute or so after that, the doors open to admit him into Thorne's den of opulence, and to say that his mere presence here is a schism, is a vast understatement. While Byron dresses in expensive suits and drives a rolls royce, de la Vega is in military-style black BDUs, a ratty tee shirt and combat boots. Both full sleeve tattoos are on full display, and he smells sharply of nicotine and a recent shower.

His dark eyes take in the place with a habitual scrutiny; he seems more interested in points of egress and lines of sight - of which there are plenty - than in the finery itself that the handsome businessman surrounds himself in. His tongue flicks along his teeth as he steps inside, and a curt nod is given in answer. "I would not mind a drink."

Usually, during the day, Byron will only take in coffee. His beverage of choice. So that's what he has sitting on his desk in his office right now. That said, he doesn't mind pouring out some spirits for his guests if they are so inclined. "A glass of scotch works for you?" His back in towards the Captain now, head turns to glance over his shoulder at the man. "Or would you prefer bourbon?" He truly does have a fully stocked bar, in truth, so Ruiz could possibly order anything he wanted.

"Miss Carr recently returned home from her sister's funeral." He'll start, "She was kind enough to enlighten me on what had occurred that night in her apartment."

"Scotch will be fine." It's offered after a momentary pause. Byron doesn't know him well enough to be aware of his proclivities, and he seems disinclined to illuminate the man. His hands remain shoved into the pockets of his pants, and he trails the younger man inside with at a slow prowl. Might be he's moving a touch more stiffly than usual, but it's subtle.

"Si? Is that so?" He's curious, but he doesn't come right out and ask. Instead, he'll take up a lean against the counter to watch Byron pour him a drink, gaze steady and quietly assessing.

Byron is in his domain, while his posture remains tall and straight, his movements are all performed with a relaxed ease. Yes, he's dressed to impress today as well, despite being at home at the moment. He has on a dark gray suit and tie get up. He very well may have freshened up some when informed that he would have another visitor this afternoon. If he notices the Captain's stiff movements, he doesn't draw attention to it. Not with words nor with his gaze. Turning to hand the man his drink after setting the bottle of scotch back into its rightful place, he gestures towards his office door.

"Please, have a seat." With that said, he already moves around to the opposite side of the desk to lower himself into his black leather office chair. One hand reaches towards his iced espresso beverage, but doesn't take it in hand. Instead, he lets it rest on the table beside it for now. "I haven't been told the details of any of the other murders, so this is the only first hand account that I've been informed of." He watches the Captain from across the desk, figures the man must know those details. "What do you think about it?"

Dressed to impress doesn't seem to be a concept in Ruiz's vocabulary. Even when on office duty at the precinct, his suits are off the rack. Probably bought on taxpayer dime, so it's just as well. His drink is accepted with a murmured Gracias, and tipped back for a small, quick sip as he pushes out of his lean against the counter.

He's hesitant to take the offered seat, once they step into the man's office, but eventually settles in with a little twist of his shoulders to try to get comfortable. A glance to the iced coffee, then the man opposite him, his own drink kept in hand. "I'm sure you're aware I can't discuss any details with you, Mr. Thorne. What I can say is that some new information has come to light. And I'm very curious what you were doing in Margaret Addington's company last night."

That same relaxed posture is mirrored in the way he's seated within his chair. Byron's eyes keep a steady gaze on the Captain, but eventually drift to stare down at some random post-it note on his table. "I'd asked Hyacinth Addington to grant me an audience with her grandaunt, because I was hoping to get official Addington sponsorship for my festival." His gaze lifts, "Yes, it's still on." In case anyone forgot! It's been a while since he had to hustle for it. Attentive eyes now meet with Ruiz's gaze for a silent moment, before he asks, "Are you keeping tabs on me, Captain?" There's a quirk of his brow that follows.

Ruiz either has other things on his mind tonight, or simply hasn't been getting enough sleep; he looks a little worn around the edges, and possibly more oblivious than usual to any subtext going on. He flashes a slight smile when the festival is mentioned. "We'll be there." Whether he likes it or not, really. His drink is sipped, swallowed, and the glass set down. And the air is simultaneously traced with something that tastes like ozone. A sharp, bitter scent at the back of the throat; it's there and gone again. Keeping tabs? "Not at all. But a meeting with Margaret Addington, I'm sure you can understand why it might have crossed our radar." Our. The precinct's, not his personally. "What else was discussed?"

While he may not have been expecting the sort of tactic which Ruiz tries to aim to use on him, it's clear to Byron that something was attempted. The subtle change in the air. If anything, it makes him shift within his seat, his eyes keeping to a somewhat wary glance on the Captain. But as with before, he doesn't hold the gaze long. "I was there to pay my condolences to Hyacinth and her grandfather, Thomas Addington, for the loss of his son." Only then does he grasp onto his cup for a refreshing taste of iced caramel macchiato, sipping the beverage through a straw. "I know that the details of this can't be discussed, but Hyacinth, though she's putting on a brave face, has been incredibly distraught." He then adds, "I shouldn't gossip, but I'll just say that after Gregory Addington's passing, there's a few things that the Addingtons will probably be discussing amongst themselves."

Attempted, and thwarted. That questioning little touch of one man's mind to the other is driven back, and Ruiz's expression is thoughtful for a moment or two. He doesn't reach again for his glass, though offers quietly, "I'm sure she has been. Qué cosa tan terrible." His fingertips rest on the rim of his glass as he watches Byron. Then, "I would rather not play games, Mr. Thorne. I want to help. I can only help you, if you help me. Do you see?"

Sipping quietly at his macchiato once more, Byron leans forward to set the cup back upon its coaster, before reclining in his seat again. Ruiz takes this moment to be direct with him, though the details of what the other knows remains a mystery. There's this light tilt of his head as it rests against the cushion behind him. "Captain, why do you think that I was at the Addington place last night?" He starts there, allowing his hands to fold together within his lap, deciding to continue on. Or he tries to. Lips part, before they close, that thoughtful look in his eyes. They then part again, "I can't say that I have any proof of anything, but I believe that the person who may be murdering these Addingtons... among others may be the.." There's a narrowing of his eyes, brow furrowed, "Possibly, the spectre of William Gohl otherwise known as Billy the Ghoul." He then hurries to say, "Sure, it sounds crazy, but that was partially the reason why I was at the Addington's last night. Some time in the past, the family had put down Billy the Ghoul. I was hoping that they'd be able to enlighten me more on that bit of history."

After all of that is said, despite giving out more information than any sane person should, he asks, "Why do you think that I know anything at all about this?" Someone must have said something.

Ruiz eases back in his chair while Byron seems to debate whether he wants to talk or not, and what and how much he wants to say. The captain curls fingers around his drink finally, and tips it back for a sip before cradling the glass on his knee. His dark eyes don't leave the younger man's. "Yes. I'm aware of all that." He seems a touch crestfallen, in fact, that no new information is offered up. "It is my job to remain aware of these things, Mr. Thorne. I'm sure you understand. Tell me, then, were they able to enlighten you? What did you learn?"

"Tell me first, where have you learned about William Gohl?" Byron may have hinted in a previous conversation that what they were dealing with was something that they may not be able to stop, but he's curious now as to where the Captain had received this information. He then seems to recall a projection that was once put into his mind recently to go with the news that followed about those injured in that event, "Two If By Sea. You were there with Isabella Reede." It's a statement, not a question at all.

"Yes, they were able to enlighten me. But this is treading on very delicate territory, Captain de la Vega, as the Addington family are involved." Drawing in a deep breath through the nose, his lips still formed into a tight line, he then says, "From what they've told me, they will be handling it on their end. Will it be enough?" Those jacket covered shoulders lift, "I can't say. But they are willing to make a great sacrifice to protect the rest of the town from the slaughter." Those words should already prove ominous.

"As I'm sure you're aware, we have an open, ongoing investigation around the Addington murders." Ruiz's gaze is steady, and there's steel just beneath the surface of his laconic, almost lazy exterior. "So I cannot discuss with you how I was made aware of this information, but suffice to say I've already established that William Gohl is involved somehow." He might have his own theories, but he doesn't discuss them.

Dangerous territory? "I agree." His drink is drained to about half, and rested on his knee again as he watches Byron. "A great sacrifice?" The question is left to hang between them, the air thick with the hunger to know.

Yes. Of course, Byron knows that this is an ongoing investigation despite the non-conventional topic that has moved on from just mere murder. However, knowing that the man knows about the dead serial killer is a start. "Is this going to be off the record, Captain?" He asks, his gaze now latched onto Ruiz's unless the man turns away. "I mean, I can't imagine what you will be reporting to the rest of the GHPD." There's some light humor in his tone. More of a speculation than anything taunting. "I'm not sure how you can help me. I'm not sure how anyone can. As it's not up to me, I don't think." A pause, "You're a smart man, Captain. While I don't know if you've seen a lot of things as of yet, you know what's going on around us. So I don't expect you to do anything rash with what I'm about to say."

Ruiz holds up his hands, palms up, when asked if this will be off the record. As if to say, do you see a tape recorder on me? Do you see a notepad and pen? His hands come back to his lap, and there's a twinge of something at the corners of his mouth as the other man meets and holds his gaze. "Yes, Mr. Thorne. This will not make it into any official report, we are off the record." He collects his glass and sips his drink again, gaze sharpening a fraction when he's advised not to do anything rash. He makes a pleasant little sound as the scotch goes down. "Go on."

There's a quiet moment of contemplation, Byron's eyes seemingly studying the police Captain seated across from him. Thorne wears this ever present smile, it's a faint one, as if he's constantly amused by something. Perhaps that de la Vega would seek him out for this information, even if the man seems to have other informants on that task. After some thought, he leans forward, his forearms pressed down against his desk, "Captain, what do you think about possession? Of a spiritual nature." He makes sure to clarify.

The captain is about as easy to read as Byron himself. Which is to say, not at all. Despite the differences in wealth and personality, they're remarkably similar men, when one gets down to brass tacks. The younger fellow's smile is studied, and then his eyes, and there isn't any warmth in his own slate greys. What little's left of his scotch glints amber in the overhead lights, and he holds Byron's gaze as he leans in closer with that little doozy.

"Mm. Before I came to Gray Harbour, I would have laughed at you," he admits. A beat, and a little gesture with his drink. His posture is his usual relaxed, space-eating sprawl, and it doesn't shift as the conversation veers into strange territory. "Let me guess. You think the spirit of William Gohl is possessing someone or someones, in order to commit these murders?"

While there may be a big difference financially between these two men, Byron grew up from a meager background. The son of a local police detective. Perhaps, this is why there are some similarities between these two now. He catches the near empty glass within his peripheral vision, but the focus of his gaze remains solely on Ruiz himself.

Still in that forward position, by now, what Ruiz says is what he'd expect from someone whose lived in Gray Harbor for a time. The question posed makes him take pause, considering how to present what he will say next in the best light. This is when his gaze finally drifts, simply lowering for a moment before being drawn back up to meet with the Captain's eyes. "I'm not completely sure if it's possession or not, but what I've been told it sounds very similar." There, he draws himself back, seated tall within his chair, but rather than returning to a more comfortable recline, he keeps his shoulders straight. "The Addington family had said that after Gohl's death, that Thomas Addington," The Matriarch's brother, "Had kept Gohl's spirit, I believe, asleep. By talking to it." He then quickly adds, "I've inquired, but the details were never given." With that out of the way, he continues in a more level tone, "The sacrifice that I'd mentioned earlier? I believe that Gohl is using Thomas Addington to... possibly commit these crimes." He's careful when he says this, "They're not sure who woke Gohl up from his sleep, but were incredibly adamant that throughout the years, the Addington family suffered so much to protect the town from Gohl that they are willing, now, to commit Thomas Addington into this..." There's a vague gesture of his hand now, as he practically murmurs, "place that they call the Facility."

The glass is left alone for the time being, while Ruiz listens to what's undeniably new information to him. He may not have any paper or recording devices out, but there's nothing stopping him from making a few mental notes as the other man speaks. "So the theory is that Thomas Addington woke up William Gohl, who committed these murders through him. And further, that sending him to this.. Facility." He pauses there with a slight raise of his brow. "Will put an end to this. Will you tell me what you know about this place? I'm only passingly familiar."

Yes, Byron is keeping track of the Captain's drink, so even if de la Vega ignores it for the time being, Thorne brings it up, "Care for a refill, Captain?" Whether the man agrees to it or not, Byron rises from his chair, reaching over for the glass. That doesn't stop him from keeping up with the conversation. "No. In fact, the Addingtons were pretty pissed that it's all come down to this. Understandably so, if what they say is true about whatever Thomas Addington had to do for how many years now? To ensure that Gohl didn't continue slaughtering everyone in town."

He'll continue, the bar being strategically placed just near the office door. The sound of the glass being set down upon the bartop can be heard. "They point fingers at the Baxters, but I think they could just be holding onto grudges from the past. But who am I to say? How many Baxters are still living in this town? As for the Facility," he shrugs, but the Captain wouldn't be able to see it, "I believe their thinking may be that if Thomas is committed, then Gohl won't be able to use him as a tool in our world. Or that was my understanding of it. Margaret Addington likes to reprimand us for not speaking clearly with our questions, but their answers leave us with even more questions."

He didn't answer in the affirmative, as far as the drink goes. But relinquishes his glass regardless, if Byron's set on pouring him more scotch. It's liquor, even if it isn't his poison of choice. "I see," he murmurs as he's corrected, thumb scratching at his bearded cheek lightly. "But what's to stop Gohl from simply.. possessing someone else, in that case?" Stupid question perhaps, but the captain is not an expert in paranormal matters. This is just a tiny bit outside of his wheelhouse.

"Who knows." Byron comes out to state simply, the newly refilled glass in hand, which he passes over to de la Vega. "We tried to get them to tell us how Thomas Addington is connected to William Gohl that he can be controlled in that way. We even asked if there was anything that we could do to help bolster Thomas'" He isn't even sure what the hell he's talking about right now, "Efforts in keeping Gohl asleep or putting him back to sleep. Nothing." Moving to resettle himself back down into his chair, he says, "The Addingtons don't seem to want our help, though we've offered. If there was a way for Gohl to possess someone else to commit murder, they made no mention of it to us, believing that committing Thomas Addington to the Facility was the only way to stop this." After indulging himself with his own sweet caffeinated beverage, he says with a sigh, "The Addingtons believe that this must be done, but even though Thomas Addington complied to this decision, I have a feeling that he's not looking forward to being sent to the Facility."

The cop's looking a little confused by the time Byron finishes, which is perhaps understandable. This whole thing is pretty fucking weird. He cocks his eyebrows once, then lets them settle again, and takes a long swig of his refreshed drink. "All right." Is it? "Is that all you know, then, Mr. Thorne? And will you require any.. assistance in securing Mr. Addington's compliance?" He means a nice, friendly police escort if need be.

Byron blinks at this offer of assistance in the matter just as he's sipping at his straw. Something dawns on him and he leans forward to set his plastic cup back onto its coaster, "You don't really know much about the Facility do you, Captain?" Leaning back, this time into a light recline, "From what I've learned it exists in the Veil, so it's not just somewhere that anyone can go. They need to know how to find it first." Both his brows lift, eyes idly looking in the direction of de la Vega, but he's not really looking at the man.

"I've got a feeling that Margaret Addington will be the one to ensure that her brother is institutionalized. However," There's some emphasis there, "There was some interest in trying to help Thomas Addington. Or allowing him, without his sister's watchful eye, to help us to help him. So maybe he doesn't need to be sent to... that place."

Hey, mysterious veil institutions are not his forte. Ruiz has a precinct to worry about, and this falls so far outside of his jurisdiction it's almost laughable. He finishes off his drink, sets down the empty glass on the table between them, and nods once. "Well, you'll let me know if there's anything I can assist with. Please do not do anything rash, Mr. Thorne, without informing me?" It's a request, rather than an order.

Seeing at this conversation seems to be over, Byron rises to his feet to escort the police captain back to the hallway and the elevator. With everything that Thorne's been through as of late, his speaking of such topics in a normal conversational tone just shows how he's becoming desensitized to everything. "I hope that the information I've given you helps somewhat, though I don't know how it would." There's a flash of a playful grin on his lips when he's the one being told not to do anything rash, "I should be the one saying the same to you, Captain. I'm not about to touch the Addington family with a ten foot pole in regards to Thomas' being sent to the Facility. I'll leave that to the other Addingtons to deal with."

Ruiz moves to his feet as well, not quite reaching the same stature as the dashing businessman, but he probably weighs a fair bit more when all's said and done. His hands are shoved into his jacket's pockets as he's escorted back out, and he confides in a low voice, "Not in the fucking slightest. But thank you, anyway." There's no answering smile for Byron's grin, though he gives the man a too-innocent look when the request is turned around on him. "Contrary to what you might think, neither am I." He pauses by the elevators, and turns to study the younger man for a moment. "But we'll continue to keep an eye on them. You help me out, I'll help you out. If any new information crops up that I think might be of interest."