Monday: March 15, 2027
8:00 AM; CLINSTONE, ROCK COUNTY SHERIFF DEPARTMENT, INTERROGATION ROOM ONE
“Mickey,” Bo greeted. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Mickey said gruffly. “Who’s he?”
“Mickey, this is Wayne Duncan, the CEO of Starlight Film Productions. He’s going to interview you so he can film a documentary. All of the proceeds of the movie will go directly to your mother,” Bo said.
“Seriously?” Mickey questioned.
“Of course, Mister Lambert. Profits belong solely to your mother,” Wayne said softly. He held out a hand. Mickey, although handcuffed, lifted a hand and shook Wayne’s. “It’ll be nice to work with you, Mister Lambert. I’ll do my best to do your story justice.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Your mother loves you. The goal of this isn’t to target her or hurt her in any way. This is to let the people into the minds of serial killers,” Wayne said. “Different perspectives are always incredible to research, to dig into. You’re a different perspective. Making sure this is well-done is a top priority of mine.”
Bo laid a hand on Wayne’s back. “I have paperwork to wrap up at the station. Will you be all right here?”
Wayne nodded as he sat down across from Mickey at the table. “I’ll be fine, Bo. Thank you,” he said.
Bo nodded. “Be respectful of each other. I’ll see you around noon, Wayne.”
“Sounds like a plan, lab geek.”
3:50 PM; CLINSTONE POLICE DEPARTMENT, CONFERENCE ROOM
“Blood reports on all victims. That includes New Jersey and the two in Clinstone. I reexamined the reports and pictures from the Jersey scenes and updated them all, made sure everything was a bit more accurate,” Bo said, setting a heavy folder down between Thomas and Chris. “There’s a completed profile of the killer in there, as well as an in-depth analysis of the first three pages of the first journal he used during his killings in Jersey. I could do more pages if you want, but I’d need the journal and more time. You may feel free to send me photocopies if you’d like and I’ll run through them that way. Crime scene photos, scene reports, interrogation notes, the original background checks… It’s all built up in there for you,” he said.
Thomas reached back and patted Bo on the back. “You’re a lifesaver, Bo. Thank you.”
Bo nodded. “No problem.” He lifted a hand, gingerly rubbing at his shoulder. He’d chosen to go without the sling for the day, knowing that it would be the only way to avoid constantly explaining that he had gotten into a fight in defense of Jamal’s legacy. His shoulder was sore, and he knew he’d regret leaving it in the car later in the day, but for now, he’d prefer to do his job without any hindrances. “If anything seems off or wrong, feel free to give me a call and I’ll see if that’s fault on my part or not.”
“Sounds good, kiddo. I’ll be by the house around six to get my things before Cross and I head out,” Thomas said.
“Of course. Would you like me to pack everything up for you and have it ready to go?” Bo asked.
“That’d be amazing. Thank you.”
Bo nodded. “My pleasure.” He squeezed Thomas’s shoulder before holding a hand out to Chris. “Always a pleasure working with you, Cross.”
Chris grasped Bo’s hand, smiling. “Always a pleasure, lab geek,” he agreed.
10:23 PM; CLINSTONE, THE AUSTEN-TAYLOR HOUSEHOLD, KITCHEN
Bo leaned back against the counter, pressing an ice pack to his slinged shoulder. “So… how’re things with David?”
Cecilia cleared her throat before taking a sip of her water. “We… have decided to try for a baby.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“I’m happy about it, about… about the idea of having a kid with him. I’m just…” She trailed off, sighing. “What if I can’t get pregnant? What if I’m getting too old? In relation to that, what if I do get pregnant, but I lose it?”
“There are always going to be what-ifs,” Bo said after a moment. “We had a lot of those, Celia. What if… none of the eggs extracted are viable? What if all of them are girls? What if we choose to try with two eggs and end up with no babies? What if we put in sixteen and end up with three and we have to choose one to terminate? What if both babies miscarry? What if one baby miscarries and the other’s perfectly healthy? What if both kids are Jensen’s? What if both kids are mine? What if the boys don’t make it through this? What if something happens to Cecilia?” He offered a shrug. “If you don’t jump into the what-ifs and let fate or the universe or God or whatever take over and do its thing, you’ll never get anywhere.
“I’m sure there was a time when you thought that you might not get into college, that you might fail a class, that you might not make it into law school. I’m sure there was a time where you thought you’d never make partner. I’m sure you had a lot of what-ifs when you considered leaving Jonathan. What if he’s the best you can get? What if you have to adjust to always being alone? What if you never end up happy? What if a divorce is the wrong choice?
“There are what-ifs everywhere, Celia, but if you hadn’t taken those chances, you wouldn’t be a badass defense attorney, partnered with an incredible firm, dating David, and ready to have kids with a man that loves you the same way you love him. Isn’t that worth it?” Bo asked.
“I love you,” Cecilia whispered.
One corner of Bo’s mouth lifted. “I love you, too, Celia.”
11:20 PM; CLINSTONE, THE AUSTEN-TAYLOR HOUSEHOLD, MASTER BATHROOM
Bo set his sling on the counter before unbuttoning his flannel. “I called Timothy.”
“You did?” Jensen asked. He came up behind Bo, wrapping his arms around him.
The blonde nodded. “Surprisingly, he’s willing to talk.”
“Where are we meeting?” Jensen questioned, moving a hand to unbutton Bo’s shirt.
“Umm…” Bo cleared his throat, allowing his right hand to drop to his side, his left arm hugged to his chest. “Bernard’s house.”
“He wants to prove a point, I think. I tried to get us to go elsewhere, but it was either that or we don’t get to speak. Ever,” Bo said. “I know you hate the idea, but I need to talk to him. I need to know that… that he knows about Ben. He needs closure.”
“I know, baby. I get it,” Jensen said. “And I’ll be right there with you the whole time. Promise.”
“Thank you,” Bo whispered.
“My pleasure, Eli.” Jensen pressed a kiss to Bo’s shoulder before pulling the flannel down his arms. “What time tomorrow?”
“A little after four. We’ll go straight from work to there,” Bo said.
The younger man nodded, dropping his hands to the buckled of Bo’s jeans. “All right,” he said quietly.
“I can… I can call it off if you hate it too much,” Bo said.
Jensen shook his head. “No, baby. This is something you wanna do. I’ll go with, we’ll get it over with, and I’ll deck him if he so much as waves a hand in your direction. Deal?”
Bo smiled softly. “Deal.”
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