Tuesday: June 10, 2025
3:32 AM; CLINSTONE, THE BONEKEEPER’S DISPLAY ROOM
The automatic lights kicked on as she walked in through the door, and they brightened ever so slightly as she walked across the floor. Her steps were light as a feather, not a creak to be heard, but she would walk even quieter if it were possible that she could.
Lifting it carefully, she hung the spine on the wall, six little display hooks to hold it in place, to guarantee it could never fall. The spine sat pristine and neat, the bones picked clean of flesh, muscle, and meat.
Beneath the spine, a small plaque sat, the words ‘spinal cord’ engraved on the surface, oh so shiny and flat. She wasn’t certain when she’d kill again, as it was something she only planned to do every now and again. She had no real hunger for killing, nor was she the kind of killer that found murder fulfilling.
It was purely something she did to complete her collection; she didn’t find fake casts of human remains quite up to par on perfection. She’d kill again eventually and move on down to the shoulders, a bone she had always seen as beautiful and elegant, for beauty would forever be held in the eyes of the beholder.
4:02 AM; CLINSTONE, THE AUSTEN-TAYLOR HOUSEHOLD, MASTER BEDROOM
Bo sat down on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his flannel shirt in the dark. He had stayed up long after Jensen had gone to bed. He had needed to finish writing his article for Forensics Monthly: A Progressive Future, which he had finished nearly an hour ago. It was long and filled with big words, both of which were things he knew the editor would dislike. With any luck, it would guarantee he’d never be asked to write an article again. Bragging wasn’t something he was good at, so making himself the monthly face of a magazine wasn’t something he wanted.
He had fed Eve and Noah, changing both of their diapers before simply holding Eve in the rocking chair until she had fallen asleep again. He was tired and more than thankful that Jensen would be more than willing to snuggle up against him as soon as he was actually in bed. Bo shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it into the laundry basket across the room. Clearing his throat, he unclasped his watch, his fingers barely grazing the scars that sat there.
He closed his eyes momentarily before setting the watch on his nightstand. He moved back on the bed, pulling his legs up with him before lying down. He pulled the covers up to his chest, smiling softly as Jensen rolled over, hooking an arm around his chest. Bo threaded his fingers through Jensen’s, pressing a kiss to the back of the younger man’s hand. He brushed his thumb over the ring on Jensen’s finger, closing his eyes.
There was a time in his life when he assumed he would never get married, a time when he assumed that all hope for having a family of his own was gone. Hell, there was a time where he didn’t think he’d ever speak again. Now, however, he spend his days at work with the love of his life, his evenings at home with their two daughters, and his nights sleeping beside his fiancé.
One corner of Bo’s mouth lifted slightly. His life would be even better once the man he slept beside became his husband instead.
7:56 AM; CLINSTONE POLICE DEPARTMENT, PARKING LOT
“What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?” Bo asked as Jensen got out of the car.
“Umm… I’m not sure. You said it’s a four-hour drive?” Jensen asked.
“Give or take.”
Jensen nodded as he walked around the car. He grabbed Bo’s outstretched hand, intertwining their fingers as they headed for the station. “Well, Jake and I will get there around… twelve or so. I imagine we’ll grab lunch on the drive there so we don’t have to literally eat up any time there.”
“Make sure he gets a salad. I’ve let him get away with burgers and fries already this week,” Bo said.
Jensen chuckled. “Of course, babe. And then, uh, if it takes us an hour to talk to the woman, I’ll be back home around… five or so? Maybe?” he asked. “I think it mainly depends on how long it takes us to interview Mrs. Bishop’s mother.”
“Fair point.” Bo reached out and pulled open the door of the station, walking into the lobby. Jensen followed. “Call me when you’re on your way home? It’ll help me gauge when to start supper. Or, you know, if I need to make something for you at all.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Jensen said. He stopped walking, tugging on Bo’s hand ever so slightly. “I’m gonna meet up with Jake. You go get your stuff put together before Mister Downs comes in. You’re talking to the friends today, right?” Bo nodded. Jensen smiled softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“All right.” Bo leaned up and kissed Jensen. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Eli. Good luck with the interviews.”
“You, too, Jens.”
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