Ravenswood: TWO
by Dwayne

1. PRIMUS

"Have I been a naughty boy, officer?" From beneath the bright glare of the light in the interrogation room, the humpy blonde in the dark suit and an open-at-the-collar clean, white shirt gave him the full benefit of a smirk both playful and openly challenging. "Is that why I'm here?"

He was the one who had this guy brought in for questioning. He was the one in charge. He was practically double the size of this pretty boy twink. So why did Patrick Cavanaugh feel like he was the prey? Maybe it was because this guy was a little too good looking. And maybe it's been some time since he's had a chance to mess around with somebody this hot. And maybe he should get on with this before he raped this guy's cute, tight little butt right here, right now. "It's detective. Detective Cavanaugh," he admonished as he sat down across the table from the suspect and placed a file folder in front of him. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Mondejar. You're here at our request to answer some questions regarding the burglary of the Winston ruby necklace."

"Please, nobody calls me Mr. Mondejar, call me Joaquin," the young man said smoothly before amending, "On second thought, call me Jack. Nobody calls me Joaquin either."

"Very well," he began, "A week before the theft Jack, you were seen on numerous occasions, casing the Winston house."

"Casing?" the blonde chortled. "Really detective, aren't you overdoing this," he gestured to the room, "cop routine, just the tiniest bit?" When Cavanaugh didn’t offer a reply, he continued. "Have you even seen the Winston ruby? It's rather too gaudy for my taste. I wouldn't have a thing to wear with it. Besides, pearls would be more my style."

"And what about diamonds?" he asked, taking a second to study Jack’s petulant lips, wondering how they must taste, and another second to recall his research on the guy. "Specifically the Janus Diamonds. Would that be more your style?"

Jack's smile wavered, replaced by a moment of alarm on that handsome face. Then, like a flash, the smile returned, dimples creasing his cheeks. But Cavanaugh was sure he had hit a nerve, just the tiniest bit. The files read that Jack had been a suspect in as many as five major jewelry heists in the continent beginning with the Janus Diamonds. And each time, he had had an airtight alibi. It didn't help matters any that the parties involved patently refused to say anything against the very charming Mr. Joaquin Mondejar. It seemed that he was too entrenched in the right circles, always had been, and these people were notoriously protective of their own kind. Even here in New Orleans, everybody knew Jack from among the city's oldest families. And although it appeared that they had long been practically destitute, the name still counted for something. Everybody to whom he had spoken about Jack had only the most complimentary of remarks. Not that nobody suspected. But from what Cavanaugh gathered, nobody was sure, one way or another, either. And the implication was that even if Jack were indeed guilty, it didn't matter one whit to any of them because he belonged. Nothing would change that.

"There must be something you can do about the lighting in here, detective, it's not very flattering to my complexion," Jack interrupted his musing.

"The Janus Diamonds, Jack." He pressed on, "Could