S. Carved – Chapter Twelve

NOT EDITED

Chapter Twelve

Back home, Dallas locked himself in his office and sat down behind his desk. “You stay inside this office at all times. Do you understand?” he asked, his voice low.

Yep. Stay in the office, don’t hurt Xavier, retreat if Xavier calls for you, retreat if your phone rings.

Dallas nodded, closing his eyes. “All right… Research is yours.”

Ed opened his eyes, rolling his shoulders back. The right one strained against the movement, but he didn’t mind too much. Dallas would feel far more of that pain than Ed ever would.

He reached out and opened the lid of Dallas’s laptop. It didn’t take long to bring up the articles of the pedophile Dallas had been referring to. Spencer Fabray, three confirmed victims, convicted on all three charges, spent less than five years in prison. Well, he certainly checked all the boxes on Dallas’s little list of requirements.

Ed grabbed a pen from the desk and leaned back in his chair, twirling the pen between his fingers. He hated being forced to follow Dallas’s little rules. When he’d still been alive, prior to his little adventure in the electric chair, there had been no rules. Ed had killed whoever the hell he wanted, and he had strung them up from trees in their own front yard. No long research process. No long confirmation of criminal actions. All he had to do back in the day was grab a young woman from the street or a young man from a bar. Easy peasy, and his hunger was fed rather quickly.

Despite Dallas’s difficulties, Ed let him have the little rules and checklists. If he didn’t, he knew Dallas would go full throttle when it came to getting rid of him, and for once, he would most likely succeed. Dallas’s previous attempts at getting rid of the ‘voice’ that had been in his head since he was a baby had been weak, hardly more advanced than ignoring Ed and refusing to respond to him.

If Dallas really set out to get rid of Ed, he’d finally find out that the murderous ‘voice’ in his head wasn’t the most trustworthy source of information. Years ago, Ed had told Dallas they were bound together because he had been born at the same exact moment Ed had died. Though the time aspect was true, give or take a few seconds, they weren’t bound together in the slightest. A little bit of an exorcism and ghost warding would keep Ed away forever.

Of course, Dallas–poor, stupid Dallas–had no damn idea Ed was a ghost rather than ‘a voice’ left over from life. The bastard didn’t even know he was psychic, thanks to Ed’s artful lies over the years. So long as Ed continued to follow the rules, so long as he poked and prodded Dallas without crossing any lines, Dallas would continue to be oblivious to his abilities, and Ed would continue to be able to kill people well into his afterlife. He wouldn’t get that from another psychic, and forging a deep connection with a non-psychic would take too long to be worth it.

So he’d put up with Dallas’s rules and checklists. They kept Ed as ‘alive’ as one could be after their state-ordered execution had been carried out. Unless he found a guaranteed way to be in control of Dallas forever, his current situation would simply have to be good enough.

***

Dallas opened his eyes, lifting his head a moment later.

Spencer Fabray. Got his registered sex offender address for you.

“For you,” Dallas corrected.

Ed laughed. Come on, Tex. You know you like holding that blade in your hand almost as much as I do.

Dallas knew better than to contest that point. Though he believed Ed had a big damn part in his ‘like’ for the research, the blade, the actual killing, and the displaying of the body. Dallas had never hurt a living soul–human, animal, or otherwise–until he had finally caved beneath Ed’s constant promise that he would make sure Dallas’s father could never lay a hand on him or Xavier ever again. Dallas didn’t know much, but he knew he wasn’t evil for caving.

Ed was evil. Ed was a monster. Dallas had simply allowed the situation to play to his advantage. Unfortunately, he knew now that Ed had done the same.

“After we take out this guy, you gotta leave me alone long enough for me and Bo to solve this case, man. It’s hard enough masking your bullshit around other people when you aren’t constantly in my ear.”

That sorta sounds like a YOU problem, Tex. But, hey, I’ll do you a solid and relax as soon as my hunger gets fed. I’m not going anywhere by any means, but I’ll stop threatening to kill the little blonde.

“And Xavier.”

Now, where’s the fun in that?

Dallas closed his eyes, scrubbing his hands over his face. “You’ve known him literally his whole fucking life.”

Yes, and I’ve thus far done you the favor of only SPEAKING about wanting to kill him instead of physically acting on it. I can switch the two around if you prefer.

“No,” Dallas whispered.

Good. We’re bonded together, Tex. You and me are in this ‘life’ thing together. We’re in this little balancing act TOGETHER. The less you throw a shit fit about it, the easier it will be.

“Alternatively, the less you threaten to kill my brother with my fucking hands, the easier it will be.”

Ed chuckled. Potentially. But I wouldn’t be having nearly as much fun that way.

Dallas shook his head. Not responding to Ed was his best choice. It almost always was, despite how often Ed eventually managed to wear down his resolve and get him to respond.

“Dallas?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know someone named Bo Austen?” Xavier asked from the hall.

“Yeah. Why?”

“He’s at the door, says you offered the couch to him.”

“Be there in a sec, bud. Thanks.” Dallas pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his phone from the desk. He checked his text messages, finding one from Bo. I don’t recall responding to this.

Oops. Sorry, did I break the rules? Ed asked.

Dallas rolled his eyes, shoving his phone into his pocket. If he managed to get rid of Ed tomorrow, it still wouldn’t be soon enough. He unlocked his office door and made his way to the foyer. Bo stood there, a duffle bag held in his hands. “Hey, man. You find your way over okay?”

“Yes. I apologize for alarming your brother. He seemed… concerned.”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s on me. Totally forgot to tell him you’d be coming over.” Dallas cleared his throat. “If you wanna kick off your shoes, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to be a bother. The couch is fine.”

“What if you need water? Or a bathroom break?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Nah. Not a bother, Austen. I promise.”

After a moment, Bo nodded. He kicked off his shoes and adjusted his grip on his bag. “Okay. Following you.”

Dallas cocked his head to the side. “ ‘Following you’. Did you pick that up from me?”

Bo glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for little more than a second. “As I said, I eventually mimic the people I care enough about to do it. As you are putting forth a genuine effort to befriend me in your way, I am putting forth a genuine effort to do it… in my way.”

“Well, I’m honored.”

Bo smiled faintly. “I’m glad.” He cleared his throat. “Following you.”

“Of course. This way.” Dallas led the way to the living room. “Here’s the couch. Feel free to set your things down here before we take the rest of the thrilling tour.”

“As the house didn’t appear to be a mansion from the outside, I feel I’m safe in the assumption that ‘thrilling’ is sarcasm.”

Dallas chuckled. “Yes.”

“Good.” Bo waved a hand between them. “Same page.” After setting his things down on the couch, he tucked his hands behind his back. “Where to next?”

We could take him to the basement, Tex. It could be fun, huh?

Dallas cleared his throat. “Kitchen. This way.”

“Do you cook often?” Bo asked, following several steps behind Dallas.

“I’m not great at it, but I do cook. Do you?”

“Yes and no. I enjoy cooking and baking, but I generally don’t do it on my own. But when I do cook on my own, I’m still good at it.”

Dallas laughed. “I don’t think you realize how savage you are sometimes.”

“Savage?”

“Yeah. Umm… sort of like bluntly stating opinions or facts. No sugar-coating.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, for some people. I just think it’s funny. Like, it brings genuine joy to my life, man.”

Bo offered a smile. “I’m glad. Who may it be a bad thing to?”

“People who are looking to be harmed or offended by what other people say. People who don’t know that you mean no harm. People who don’t get you.”

“In conclusion, most people.”

“That’s usually how it is,” Xavier said. Dallas turned to face his brother. “People who don’t know you have a harder time gauging what you mean and stuff. Like, I understand what Dallas means when he talks more than I’ll ever understand anyone else. And he understands what I mean more than anyone else will ever understand me.”

After a moment, Bo nodded. “That’s how Mister A is for me. I understand the intent behind most of what he says, regardless of his expression or tone.”

“It’s cool you have someone like that. Helps give you a baseline of your normal.” Xavier stuck out a hand. “Now that I’m not so weird, I’m Xavier.”

Bo untucked his hands and grabbed Xavier’s. “I’m Bo. I’m the forensic analyst that’s been assigned the task of babysitting your brother at the station.”

“Oh, dude, that’s awesome. You have a babysitter?”

“That is technically one of the titles he’s allowed to have,” Dallas said.

Xavier laughed. “Ugh, that’s awesome.” He stepped past Dallas and pulled open the refrigerator. “Do you like Pepsi, Bo?”

“Umm, yes, sure.”

“Sweet.” Xavier handed a pop to Bo and grabbed another for himself. As the door swung shut, Xavier pointed the can at Dallas. “Your tour’s boring. I’m giving him a tour of the rest of the house.”

Dallas smiled. “Go for it. Have fun.”

“Come on, Bo. I’ll show you the non-boring rooms.” Bo followed Xavier out of the kitchen without any complaint.

Well, you know what they say.

Dallas shook his head, closing his eyes.

Birds of a feather flock together. That must apply to freaks too, huh?

“Fuck you,” Dallas whispered.

Aww, Tex, come on. It’s not like I’m calling YOU a freak. Just your freakishly abnormal baby brother.

Dallas wrapped a hand around his wrist, fingernails biting into his skin. He knew damn well what Ed’s end goal was. It was easier for him to take unapproved control of Dallas when he was angry. As it stood, with two lives to endanger in his home, he planned on preventing that unauthorized control for as long as he could.

What’s wrong, Tex? Did I bully you into not responding again?

You bully me INTO responding, not out of it, in case you’ve forgotten.

Mm. Fair, I suppose. Still, you’re being pretty unfair, Tex.

Dallas couldn’t fight back the chuckle that fell past his lips. Wow, damn good joke, Ed.

Imagine for a moment that, after you died, you were stuck in some human’s body, and instead getting to be who you were before, you had to listen to his absurdly boring conversations with his freakishly boring brother every single day, and DESPITE that, you’re still not allowed to have control to do the one fun thing you enjoy every once and a while.

Well, first, I’d be honored to listen to those ‘boring’ conversations, since I’m not a murderous, emotionless monster like you were. Second, I let you have plenty of fun, and I let you indulge in it far more often than I should.

Oh, grow up. We’ve hardly killed anyone.

‘Hardly’ would be a laughable statement if the fact that it was a lie didn’t hurt so badly. Including his father and the two men in Texas Ed had killed after getting Dallas drunk enough to take full control of him, Dallas’s hands were covered with the blood of thirty-five people. ‘Hardly’ was far from the truth.

Dallas managed to take some solace in the fact that the overwhelming majority of those thirty-five people had been well-vetted criminals that he had agreed to let Ed kill. He managed to take solace in the fact that if he hadn’t bargained with Ed, it would’ve been thirty-five innocent lives instead. Thirty-five–or thereabouts–dead criminals sounded much better in his mind than thirty-five dead innocents, plus the innocents the criminals would’ve continued wreaking havoc upon.

If he didn’t take solace in something, he’d lose control of everything that made him Dallas Silver instead of Ed Lincoln.

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Chapter Eleven

Chapter Thirteen

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Books & Badges – Thirty-Eight

NOT EDITED

Russell dropped into his desk chair, another fresh cup of coffee in his hand. He took a sip, drawing in a deep breath as he set the mug down. Though he’d been at the station for a whopping six hours, he hadn’t accomplished much. He had started out his very early morning by calling the owners of the three missing guns. Of course, none of them had answered his call, which had been his hope in the first place. He needed the calls out of his way, but he hadn’t been ready to speak to another human being. Hell, he wasn’t sure when he’d be ready to speak to another person that morning.

He had left a message for all three men, including his name and number at the station. Afterward, he had spent a few hours combing through Lauren’s case file, through Vincent’s. Comparing them to find the similarities versus the differences had proven itself a difficult task, but he had managed. It hadn’t brought any new discoveries to light, but he was happy to have done it just to make sure.

Now, he had to move onto yet another difficult task: watching the traffic cam footage near Luaren’s home to see if any of the cameras caught the person who had tampered with her car.

Russell didn’t give a shit what Abby Clouse and Derek Jordan believed. Lauren hadn’t taken out her own ignition cable, and on the incredibly off chance she had, she wouldn’t have done it so he had a reason to pick her up from the house. She wouldn’t have needed a reason. Sam had never been jealous of Russell. He was certain of that. Abby and Derek’s bullshit wouldn’t change his opinion. Hell, it wouldn’t change his knowledge.

“Russ?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Morning, Emey.”

Emelia cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the corner of the desk. “I shouldn’t have told Loo without coming to you first. You should’ve been the one to tell him, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded. “What’re you working on today?”

“Sifting through traffic cam footage.”

“Do you need help?”

Russell offered a smile. “I’ll be fine, Emey. Besides, you and Andy have a case to work, too. I’ll handle this one.”

Emelia watched him for several seconds before nodding. “All right. You’ll let me know if you need something?”

“Sure, Emey. I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” she whispered. She gave his arm a tight squeeze and pushed herself away from his desk. “Good luck, Russ.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Emilia walked away without complaint or question. Russell considered himself thankful for that. There were a lot of things he could put up with that day. Fielding questions from Emilia wasn’t one of them.

Russell let out a breath, turning back toward his computer. While he waited for the gun owners to get back to him, he’d start with the traffic cam footage forNovember twenty-fourth. If it turned up nothing, he’d move to the days leading up to it, up until the very damn moment that he found the bastard who pulled the ignition cable from Lauren’s car.

***

Though Russell had been a homicide cop for quite some time and a cop for even longer, he had never been more thankful that a house was near a traffic camera than he was that Friday. While watching the footage for November twenty-second, the Sunday before Lauren had been shot, he found exactly what he’d been looking for.

At five AM that Sunday morning, a car had turned onto the road and parked two houses away from Lauren’s place. The driver had gotten out, jogged back to Lauren’s, pulled out the ignition cable, and pulled open the passenger side door. Russell assumed that was when the bastard had tucked it into the glovebox. The driver had jogged back to the car, gotten in, and driven away.

In under five minutes, Lauren’s car had been rendered incapable of going anywhere but the driveway.

Rusell put in the parameters to save the five minute section of the clip to his computer. He tapped over to his email and sent it to Ellie with a request to estimate the height on the bastard. Or, ‘the suspect’, as he chose to detail the man in his email. He knew it would take Ellie more than a minute or two to get around to his email. There had been a homicide late the night before, and Ellie was most likely still busy processing evidence.

So while he waited, he wrote down the license plate number of the vehicle and ran it through the system.

Marilyn Briggs. Russell expanded the alert at the bottom of his screen, shoulders sinking. The car had been reported stolen the same day it had driven past Lauren’s place. Dispatch had received the call about the stolen vehicle around six PM on the twenty-second. Apparently, Marilyn and her husband had been gone all day, returning from an early supper in her husband’s car.

The car had never been found.

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. How many damn cases would he have to work through before he found this guy?

***

Standing outside the Briggs’s house, Russell knocked on the door. It wasn’t long before a woman opened it. “Can I help you?”

Russell smiled, holding up his badge. “Detective Russell Steele. Last year, you reported your car stolen. I was wondering if you’d be willing to answer a few questions about that.”

“Is there still a point? It’s been almost a year, and this is the first follow-up with me.”

“The… first?”

Marilyn nodded. “There were cops that spoke to me when I reported it, and then it was transferred to a burglary and robbery detective, and that was… it.” She raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is it you?”

“No, ma’am. I’m a homicide cop.” Russell cleared his throat, tucking his badge back into his pocket.

“Homicide?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m investigating the murder of one of our own. I’ve traced a connection back to a separate case, where a traffic cam caught your car in the vicinity of… we’ll say a crime scene. You and your husband were out for the day. This around five AM on the day you reported the car missing. I know you were not driving it, but I would love to know if you have anything that could lead me away from the drawing board.”

“Maybe. I-I can see what I can do.” She took a step back. “Would you like to come in for coffee?”

“I would love that, thank you.”

“Of course. Come on in, Detective.”

***

Russell’s phone dinged with a text as he walked into the station.

Theo: Lunch?

Russell: Yes please. Need me to come get you?

Theo: Yes. Unless you wanted to eat in the parking lot again. Then you can bring food?

Theo: But only if you let me pay you for my share.

A little smile tugged at one corner of Russell’s mouth.

Russell: I’m heading out now. Throw some food ideas my way. Be there soon.

***

Russell helped Theodore onto the hood of his car before lifting himself up to sit beside him. “Two slices of Casey’s pizza and a large pop.”

Theodore smiled. “Thank you,” he said, grabbing the bag and the pop from him.

“No problem.” Russell took a sip of his own pop. “How’s today gone so far?”

“Not bad. We’re preparing for a book signing and book reading, so that’s cool. Local author, indie release. Pretty exciting.” Theodore smiled. “For a book nerd, anyway.”

“That’s cool as hell, even for a dumb cop.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Russell smiled. “I know, Theo. I don’t mean you said it. You’d never say anything like that about me. My favorite cop hater was at Casey’s.”

“I’m sorry, Russ.”

“It’s all right. I’m used to it.” He leaned back against his windshield, letting out a sigh. “How was breakfast?”

“Good. Your friends should teach you to cook.”

Russell laughed, holding his cup on his chest. “They should, yeah. But that’d be much less fun than having you teach me.”

Theodore looked back at him. “Why’s that?”

“My friends totally wouldn’t hold my hand to stir things or cut up carrots. My friends wouldn’t touch my back while we wait for the sauce to simmer long enough. They wouldn’t press little kisses to my shoulder. Those are all crucial elements to my learning process, Theo.”

Theodore chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure they are, dickhead.”

Russell smiled at him, teeth and all. That felt damn good. “Hey, speaking of my learning process, after Vera goes to bed tonight, and after I fix your shoulder, you should teach me to make a desert.”

“Are you sure you’re up to that?”

“Yeah. I need tonight to be focused on anything but this case before I become a fucking conspiracy theorist.”

Theodore’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t push the statement. “Okay. What kind of dessert are you thinking?”

“Brownies.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already taught you how to make brownies.”

“And I’m pretty sure there’s more than one type of brownie.”

Theodore chuckled. “Okay, brownies it is. You’ll have to tell me what kind you’d like before my shift ends. I’ll have Gina take me to the grocery store.”

“Or we can go together.”

“Your shift ends after mine.”

“Yeah. I’ll just be on call for the first two hours or so. Unless, Godforbid, another cop gets shot, I won’t be called in.”

“Okay. You… can pick me up here at five.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.” Russell sat up, laying a hand on Theodore’s knee. “Can you pick out the recipe, or should I? Shit, that sounded condescending, didn’t it?”

“No, I get it. I normally can’t choose stuff because I’m not used to being in control. Not condescending at all.” Theodore patted his hand. “You wanna talk about station stuff? Or just brownies and bookstores?”

“Brownies and bookstores work great for me.”

Theodore smiled, giving his hand a tight squeeze. “Sounds good to me, Russ.”

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Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Nine

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Books & Badges – Chapter Thirty-Seven

**Sorry for the delay! I was editing for someone yesterday and completely spaced the update**

NOT EDITED

Theodore paused his recording of Lucifer and grabbed his cane from where it leaned against the end table. He pushed himself off the couch, letting out a breath as he made his way to the door. After unlocking it and pulling it open, he found himself staring at a freshly showered Russell. “Hey.”

The detective smiled. “Hey.”

“Do you wanna come in?”

Russell held up a bag. “Tupperware, food for breakfast. I’m heading into the station, getting started early. I can’t sleep anyway, so I might as well make my time useful.”

“You made breakfast?”

“No, I watched while my friend made breakfast before heading back to his place. I just wanted to make sure you could have something homemade, even if you were in a bit of pain in the morning.”

“That’s sweet of the both of you.” Theodore wrapped a hand around Russell’s arm and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You wanna carry them in for me?”

“Sure can.” Russell stepped inside, kicking off his shoes as Theodore closed the door. “Figured since it was only a little past two, you’d still be awake.”

“You figured correctly. I was watching Lucifer.”

“I missed the majority of the first season when it was airing. Work gets in the way of a lot of shows.” He smiled. “Maybe after we finish Nurse Jackie, you’ll watch that with me, too?”

“As long as you don’t mind that I’ve already seen it.”

“Not at all.”

“Perfect.” Theodore followed Russell into the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay, try and get some sleep? You said it yourself, Russell. It’s barely past two in the damn morning.”

“I’m sure. I can’t sleep, so…” Russell shrugged. In silence, he put the food containers in the refrigerator. “The more progress I make before Halloween, the more my night is dedicated to you and Vera. I-I don’t expect to solve the case before then. It rarely happens that way, but you guys deserve as much of my attention as I can offer. I’ll be able to offer the most of it if I’ve made some more progress before then.”

“If you think that’s best, I won’t argue over it.”

“Thank you.” Russell laid his hands on Theodore’s cheeks. “I’m doing my best not to be distant. I’ve always struggled with balancing work and a personal life when I have an actual case on my desk. When that case is Vince…”

“It’s even more difficult,” Theodore filled in.

“Exactly. But I’m trying. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you away or like I don’t care anymore. Because I-I do care, a lot. I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are, Russ. And I know you do. I consider myself beyond lucky that Vera and I met you. A little bit of distance hasn’t changed my opinion on that.”

“God, I like you so fucking much,” Russell whispered.

Theodore snorted. “I like you so damn much, too.” He looked down for a moment, smoothing his hands over Russell’s button-up. “Will you be over tonight for supper?”

“I’ll try to be. As long as I don’t get in any conversations with any of the cops that piss me off, yeah, I should be here.”

“Well, do your best to avoid them. They don’t deserve your time.”

“I’ll try.” Russell pressed a kiss to Theodore’s forehead. “Hopefully, I’ll see you tonight, Theo. Get yourself some sleep, enjoy breakfast, and call me if you or Vera needs a ride this morning or this afternoon. I’m always on the clock, but it doesn’t mean I have to be inside the station.”

Theodore nodded. “I’ll let you know. Good luck, Russell.”

“Thank you.” Russell stepped away, giving Theodore’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I still plan on fixing this tense knot here. You just have to remind me. Okay?”

“Deal. I’ll remind you.”

The detective smiled. “Perfect. See you soon, Theo.”

***

Theodore was still busy warming up breakfast when Vera padded into the kitchen. “Morning, baby.”

“Morning, Daddy.” She looked around, standing up on her tiptoes to look over the island. “Just us?”

“Just us today, yeah. Russell’s gonna try and be here for supper tonight, though.”

Vera nodded. “Okay.” She tucked her hands behind her back, leaning up on her toes to get a look at the stove. “No eggs?”

“Nope. Russell’s friend made breakfast for us, and Russell brought it over this morning so we could have something a bit more… flavorful.”

Vera smiled. “Just like before Father…”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Awesome,” Vera whispered. “Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“Is Russell still coming out for Halloween?”

“That’s still the plan. He really wants to go with us. That’s why he’s not here today. He wanted to make a bit more progress in his case, free up Halloween for you and me.”

“Russell’s pretty awesome.”

Theodore smiled, shutting off the flame on the stove. “Yeah, I think so, too. He’s pretty darn great.”

Vera nodded. “He makes me feel safe. He keeps away the bad guys, and he protects people like you and me. I like feeling safe.”

“I do, too, baby.” Theodore reached out to tuck her hair back behind her ear. “And… you deserve to feel safe. I’m glad Russell helps make you feel that way. One of the only things I always want for you is a feeling of safety, quickly followed by a feeling of love.”

“Daddy, I always feel loved.” She reached up and poked her father’s chest. “You do that one all the time.”

“Thanks, baby.” Theodore smiled. “So, let’s get ourselves some breakfast, huh? And then we’ll go from there.”

“Sounds good, Dad.”

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Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Eight

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S. Carved – Chapter Eleven

NOT EDITED

Chapter Eleven

Through with the car dealer, Dallas slid back into the driver’s seat of the cruiser and handed Bo the picture of the van from the security footage. “Guy in there identified it as a 2007 Chevy Express 1500 Passenger Van. Verified it with two of his colleagues too.”

Bo nodded. “There are a few ways we could take that.

“Yeah. Check all the traffic cameras leading up to the beach, but since there wasn’t a license plate on the front or back, our only hope there is that we get a good enough shot of the driver’s face to run it through the system,” Dallas said. “Based on my experience in narcotics, that’s not likely.”

“My experience says the same, more or less.”

“Okay, so we’re on the same page again. What kind of directions do we have for options? Umm, on the case as a whole, not just the van thing. What are the options there?” Dallas asked.

“We’re still waiting on blood results from the victim, I can use the height of the railing to find out a height on our mystery driver, we can see if we can speak to the victims’ friends from school, or we can work on figuring out how to find the van.”

“Sorry, umm… his friends from school?”

“Miss Sawyer told us that one of his friends spoke of the cult. That was why her son wanted to join. She gave us the friend’s name? Along with two others” Bo prompted.

Sorry, Tex. Might’ve zoned you out a bit too much during that one.

Dallas cleared his throat. “Sorry, man. I must’ve zoned out a couple times.”

Bo nodded. “Sleep deprivation will do that to you. That’s okay. I have my notes at the station. You may look at those as much as you’d like once we get back. So maybe we should start there before we try finding the friend, in the assumption she’s alive and findable.”

“She?”

Again, Bo nodded. “Yes, she.”

“Okay, so… you think she might’ve ended up like our vic?”

“I think the LAPD would’ve found her, if that were the case. But if the cult killed Mister Sawyer–and based on what I found when I cut him open, it’s very likely that they did–there’s a chance that his friend wouldn’t have wanted to be involved in that. She spoke highly of the cult to Mister Sawyer, yes, but she was young and stupid. It’s doubtful the cult was showing her that they really were planning to kill people, her friend included.”

“And if she didn’t want to be involved, they might’ve killed her too.”

Bo nodded. “Yes. There’s also a chance she would’ve been allowed to walk free. It… depends on what kind of people make up the cult rather than the fact that they are a cult.”

“Are you defending a cult? A cult that cut a kid open and stole some of his organs?”

“No, though I do believe he agreed to that. I’m not ‘defending’ a cult. I’m insinuating that every cult isn’t inherently Charles Manson and his followers. The leaders of cults are inherently manipulative, either on their own or with the help of their religion of choice. But they aren’t all Manson or Jonestown. That’s my point.”

After a moment, Dallas nodded. It wasn’t like he had the moral high ground when it came to homicide, anyway. “All right, that’s fair. Not all cults are ‘murder everyone around us’ types, and not all of them are ‘poison our own members’ types.” He cleared his throat. “So… we can go back to the station and look up the gal’s last known address?”

Bo nodded. “I was thinking much of the same.”

“Great.” Dallas started the cruiser. “Then let’s get a move on.”

***

Back at the station, while Bo sat down in the lab to work out the height of the driver of their blue mystery van, Dallas sat at his desk. Bo had given him his notes from the Carol Sawyer interview, as well as a sticky note with the names of three of Robert Sawyer’s friends. According to Bo’s notes, only one of them had ever told Robert about the cult or urged him to join in, but Robert had been close with the other two since elementary. It seemed Carol had hoped one of them would be of ‘more use’ to the investigation than she had.

Jesus, Ed, how much of that interview were you fucking around in my head for?

Quite a bit. You know how hard it is to control my… interference when I’m hungry, Tex.

Dallas sighed, rubbing a hand over his short curls. Can you be patient? If I let you feed your ‘hunger’ as often as you’re hungry, we’d get caught in no time. Just chill the hell out, let me do my job, and we’ll find someone for you to take out. Okay?

Ed chuckled. I’ll hold you to it, Tex.

Dallas shook his head and turned toward his computer. Though Ed was going out of his way to make the job as difficult as possible, Dallas planned to put his best foot forward. If he needed to play detective, he’d play detective. If he and Bo had to play this back-and-forth on how friendly they were to each other or how much of silent treatment one gave the other, he would.

Speaking of all the things you’re willing to do, maybe you should find some addresses, Ed suggested.

Why do you care?

It’s a Saturday. We generally use our off Saturdays to research criminals for our kills. Again, I would like to kill. I am HUNGRY, Tex.

Dallas let out a breath. Patience. I want to find the addresses for these three. Then… I’ll wrap up for the day and let you do your thing.

Burke?

Too soon. If someone strings her up right after I got here, we’re gonna trip up some alarms. There’s been a pedophile in the news, just got out of prison.Once we get home, you have free reign to research him. Same as always, if I give you the reins, you leave Xavier alone. If Bo chooses to take me up on the offer of the couch, you leave HIM alone too. Deal?

Deal. I’ll even sweeten it and leave you alone until then.

Dallas sighed. Thank you.

Ed snorted his response.

Dallas closed his eyes and stretched his neck out to one side until it popped. He moved Bo’s notes off his keyboard and typed his badge number into the system. Logged in and given access, he searched for the last known address of all three people Bo had given him the names of.

He printed off the addresses and headed down to the lab. “Austen?”

Bo lifted his head. “Yes?”

“I’ve got the addresses, but I think we’ll hold off on trying to find these people until tomorrow. We’ve both put in more than enough overtime today, yeah?”

Bo offered a smile. “I’m on shift. Both of our other forensic analysts are on… vacation. I work the day shift week long until one of them returns.”

“Right,” Dallas whispered. “Do you… want to go find these people, then?”

“That’s okay. It can wait until tomorrow. I have evidence that needs to be sorted through. A West Department analyst did evidence collection at a crime scene today, but I still need to officially tag the collected items.”

“All right. You go ahead and call me if you finish that and need something to do, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dallas crossed the room and set the thin stack of papers on the table. “My couch is still open if you want a place to stay that’s not a lab or an empty house.”

“I… will continue taking that offer into consideration.”

“All right. Shoot me a text or a call if you decide to accept the offer, all right?”

Bo nodded. “I will.” He slid the papers into the open folder on the table. “Enjoy your day, Mister Silver.”

“You too, Austen.”

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Chapter Ten

Chapter Twelve

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S. Carved – Chapter Ten

NOT EDITED

Chapter Ten

“I have it,” Bo assured for the sixth time as he pushed the television toward Dallas’s desk.

“Are you sure?”

Bo stopped long enough to meet Dallas’s eye. “My short stature and thin frame don’t determine my ability to roll a cart across the room, Mister Silver.”

Dallas couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know, but I feel a little useless here.”

“Well, I do believe you’re supposed to be resting that shoulder for, what, four to six weeks? For the sling, anyway. The shoulder itself will take closer to four to six months. Yes?”

“Creeper. You been Googling me?”

Bo shook his head. “I don’t need Google to know you’re in the sling because you needed surgery on the rotator cuff after that bullet ripped through it. Outside of that, I already know how long it takes to recover from that type of surgery.”

“Why? I’m assuming you haven’t been shot before.”

“No, but my adoptive mother needed surgery on her rotator cuff when I was in middle school. I helped out around the house more during that time.” Bo stopped, turning the cart so the screen of the television faced Dallas’s desk.

“Do you do that every time you talk about one of them? Make sure people know you’re adopted?” Dallas asked.

Bo grabbed the tape from the cart’s shelf, eyes on the floor. “Mostly, I suppose.”

“Do you know why?” Bo didn’t respond. Though Dallas wanted to push him on the topic, he wanted to be friends with Bo. Christ, he needed to be friends with Bo, even if the lab geek thought befriending the short and smart kid was a bad idea. He needed someone to stick to in the department, someone who would be his shield from prying eyes. A loner was easier to pick on, easier to investigate. The perfect example of that stood right in front of him.

“I don’t do it because I want or need other people to know I’m adopted,” Bo said, as if that closed more questions than it opened.

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to say things that are more for yourself than others.” Bo snorted, but he didn’t respond. “What?”

“I imagine the idea that we’re allowed to do anything for ourselves is supposed to be humorous.”

“In some cases, yeah. Not in this one. I genuinely meant it.” Dallas sat down behind his desk, finally willing to accept that Bo didn’t want his help setting anything up. “I know part of it is that you refuse to look at my face when I talk, but what’s the other part? Inability to read tone? Body language?”

“I try not to base my judgments on tone or body language. People can say something in a polite tone while being passive aggressive or rude. Why bother judging on tone when many nasty people go out of their way to make sure the only one who knows the true meaning of their words is them?” Bo pushed the security tape into the VHS player and handed the remote to Dallas. “In regards to body language, I believe the ideals of it are a good general rule of thumb, but individual people often don’t hit all the markers to judge them appropriately.”

After a moment, Dallas nodded. “All right, I get that. That’s fair. Maybe I can help you pick up some stuff with a combo of all the judgment methods.”

“Though the idea is appreciated, I don’t believe I’d be a good use of your time.”

“You think you, a human being, are a bad use of my time?”

As expected, Bo didn’t respond. Instead, he sat down in front of Dallas’s desk and pulled his notebook and pen from his satchel.

Doesn’t this get tiring, Tex? Pretending you aren’t annoyed by him just because he reminds you of Xavier? Pretending you can fix him to prove to yourself you can fix Xavier? Prove to yourself that your oddball brother will be perfectly fine once he’s out in the real world with people who aren’t forced to like him because they’re biologically bound? Aren’t you tired?

I’m not tired of anything. You don’t know me as well as your manipulative tactics pretend to.

Ed chuckled. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tex.

With a deep inhale, Dallas pressed ‘play’ on the remote. “Should I fast forward to a specific point, or…?”

“We only asked for the footage beginning at the time of death to when he was found. If the camera caught anything, it shouldn’t take forever to have something show up,” Bo said. “But I would still advise a slight fast forward until you see someone or something on screen.”

Dallas chuckled as he pressed the fast forward button. “Thank you for giving me your honest suggestion.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dallas paused the video. “Blue van. Woulda been before our body-finder got there.”

Bo turned to look at Dallas. Actually look at him. “Body… finder?”

“Yeah, the gal on the beach?”

“I assume you got her name, yes?”

“Of course. It’s in my notes.”

“You really can’t recall names, can you?” Bo asked.

“If they aren’t a suspect or a victim, names generally go in one ear and out the other for me,” Dallas said.

“For what it’s worth, anyone could be a suspect, the ‘body-finder’ included.”

“That’s… fair.” Dallas pulled open his desk drawer and grabbed the folder Bo had started for the case. He flipped it open and searched through the papers until he found his notes. “Joyce Carter.”

“I’ll be sure to file that away in my memory for both of our convenience.”

Dallas laughed. “Deal.” He tucked the folder away and pointed to the screen. “This van driving through. That’s quite a bit before Joyce got there.”

“Yes. Can you press the pause button a few times to move it a few frames forward?”

“Yep.” Dallas did as asked. “No license plate. I have a feeling they did that for a reason.”

Bo nodded. “Yes. I have the same feeling.” A pause. “Do you know much about cars, Mister Silver?”

“A little. Pretty sure it’s a Chevy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It is. Thank you. I’ll look into the specifics and see if I can find a match.” Bo jotted down something before pointing at the screen with his pen. “You can press play. I doubt they’ll park where we can see the driver.”

Dallas nodded. True to assumption, the van parked close to the edge of frame, the passenger side of the vehicle facing the camera.

“Pause, pause.”

Dallas paused the video. That was by far the least monotone Bo had sounded since they’d met. “What?”

Bo leaned forward, touching a finger to the screen. “Shadow. If I get the height of the railings on this side of the parking lot, I can measure the shadow they cast in order to calculate the height of the driver.”

“Awesome. So after we’re done with this, we’ll add that to the list of shit to do, right?”

“Yes.”

Dallas watched Bo for a moment. “What’re you writing down?”

“Timestamps with minor descriptions of the image I’d like from each one for further analysis,” Bo said.

“So you must enjoy the… mathematical stuff, right?”

“Yes. I enjoy nearly every aspect of forensics, but I do enjoy the added ability to measure and work numbers into a formula to gain a solution. It’s more involved than having to wait for blood test results or wait for fingerprints. I also… just enjoy numbers.”

“Nothing wrong with liking it because you enjoy it. My brother likes astrology and astronomy just because he enjoys looking at stars and the potential connection between their alignment and a person’s personality.”

Bo clicked the end of his pen three times, eyes on the television. “If I take you up on the offer of a couch, will I get to meet your brother?”

Dallas couldn’t help but smile. So long as he didn’t mess it up, Bo genuinely considering it was a good step in the direction of friendship.

A good step in the direction of your personal innocent shield from serial killer accusations would be a more correct description of your version of ‘friendship’.

Fuck off, Ed. I’m working.

Ed laughed. That’s cute. When has that ever stopped our little chats?

Dallas rolled his eyes. Ed wasn’t worth responding to again. He rarely was. “Yeah, you’d get to meet my brother. Without locking one of you in the attic, you’d have to eventually.”

“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.” Bo cleared his throat. “You can press play again. Let’s see if we can find anything else useful.”

***

They hadn’t found anything else ‘useful’ in the security footage, but Bo had assured him there was nothing unusual about it. Hell, as Bo had phrased it: “I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s more than we usually end up with in the vast majority of our homicide cases. We have a good start. For your first case, that’s what you want. A good start.”

Now, they stood in the parking lot near the beach. Though Dallas wasn’t exactly useful in the process, he enjoyed watching Bo work. Everything the kid did held a certain elegance that most people didn’t have, especially in their line of work.

“Short Rib!”

Bo lifted his head, and for the first time, Dallas watched a genuine smile cross his face. A man jogged up the beach and held out a fist. Bo, despite every ounce of awkwardness and uncertainty Dallas had seen from him, bumped his own fist against it without complaint. Holding his camera out of the way, Bo leaned over the railing and hugged him.

Dallas couldn’t help but feel like the analyst he’d been trying to befriend for the last twenty-something hours had been replaced with a completely different person.

Bo pulled away and turned to Dallas, the other man’s arm wrapped loosely around his shoulder. “This is Officer Dallas Silver, the Homicide rookie I’m ‘babysitting’ for the time being.”

The man chuckled and lifted a hand. “Homicide detective Russ Chase.”

“Oh, you’re the detective.”

“Short Rib’s BFF? Hell yeah.”

“Well… that… is a bit extreme,” Bo said.

“Pff. Whatever.” Gently, Russ pushed Bo a step forward and laid his hands on the railing. “So since you’re both here, I imagine you’re working that beach homicide. And Silver here must be Tessa’s new officer to work.”

“Tessa?” Dallas asked.

“Burke.”

Now we have a first AND last name, Tex.

Dallas cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing detective.”

Russ nodded. “Sorry, man. All the hard work without any of the damn credit. But Loo knows about Tessa’s bullshit, so you’ll make detective in no time.” He laid a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “She’s not bothering you, right?”

Bo shook his head. “No. She still has an officer or two to bother. Besides, I don’t think I’m her taste.”

Russ chuckled. “Well, I’ll hope you’re not. I’m gonna let you guys get back to crime scene stuff, I’m gonna get back to beach stuff.” He back-handed Bo’s shoulder. “Return my texts, shithead.”

Bo laughed. “I only don’t because it annoys you. I’ll respond tonight.”

“Thank you, shit.” Russ met Dallas’s eyes, lifting a hand again. “Good meeting you, man.”

“You too.” Dallas’s gaze shifted to Bo as the detective walked away. “I have questions.”

“I eventually learn to mimic the behavior of certain people I care about enough to do it. Russ is one of them,” Bo said.

“It’s just mimicking?”

“I don’t know. I suppose that depends on who you ask.”

“Why do you think it’s mimicking?”

“The difference around him versus away from him is quite stark, yes? That’s why I think it.”

“Maybe your true self is only comfortable coming out from that… monotone exterior when you trust the person enough to be certain they’re not gonna hurt you for being you.”

Bo watched him for a moment. “Maybe.” He squatted down in front of the railing and stretched out his tape measure again.

Dallas cleared his throat, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. “It’s not something a lot of people want to talk about, but have you tried therapy?”

“Yes. It hasn’t worked well for me in the past, and as it stands, I would rather be this… monotone shell.”

“I did not call you a shell.”

“No, but I know I am.” Bo met Dallas’s eyes, hesitantly offering a smile. “I appreciate your willingness to… befriend me or help me, but you don’t have to do either. If you want a friend to fit in, you don’t want it to be me.”

“Wh-why would you think I wanted you as a friend to fit in?” Dallas asked.

“You’re new to the department, and a cop with a friend in the department appears more stable than one by himself, one unwilling to ‘mingle’. The more stable you seem, the more likely Loo is not to give you an actual partner.”

“That’s not…”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. But it’s okay if you only try to befriend me around others. I also don’t mind if we aren’t best friends one hundred percent of the time,” Bo said.

Dallas wanted to argue the point, but Bo had almost hit the nail on the end. Dallas did want a friend in the department to appear stable, and he did want to make sure their lieutenant didn’t give him a partner with a badge. But his reason for befriending Bo was two fold: he reminded Dallas of his little brother, though far more… awkward, and Dallas really did need a shield from the prying eyes of a bunch of homicide cops.

Without lying through his teeth, arguing the point was impossible.

“I don’t mind being friendly to you regardless of how many people we’re surrounded by,” Dallas finally said.

“So long as you don’t mind it, I will do my best to avoid suggesting that you do.”

“I appreciate that.”

Bo nodded and jotted something down in his notebook. “Well, I have what I need. We can head back to the station whenever you’re ready.”

“Mmhmm. You wanna tag along to a car dealership? I figure I could ask one of them what kind of van that might be.”

“I’ll come with, but I’d like to stay in the car, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Only one of us is required to play detective. I’m just dragging you along.”

One corner of Bo’s mouth lifted as he tucked his camera back into its bag. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. Though as your babysitter, it’s partially my job to allow you to drag me along, lest I put my foot down instead.” He zipped up his bag and lifted the strap over his shoulder as he rose to his feet. “Unfortunately, there’s no need to put a stop to the car salesman visit. So… vamoose.” Dallas smiled, but he did his best to bite back his chuckle. Bo always seemed to figure out the hilarity of his statements whenever Dallas chuckled, based on nothing more than the blonde’s slight shift in expression afterward. For now, Dallas just wanted Bo to hold onto the real him left over from his little reunion with his detective. Dallas didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

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Chapter Nine

Chapter Eleven

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Books & Badges – Chapter Thirty-Six

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After lunch with Theodore, which had turned out to mostly be a long hug on the hood of his car with Theodore instead, Russell had headed back to the station. Now, he sat at his desk, flipping through Lauren’s folder. Sam had told him that they couldn’t remember if they had told the cops about the missing ignition cable or not. For obvious reasons, they had been grieving, and their mind had been foggy for months following the shooting. Russell hadn’t been able to fault Sam for that.

When it came to the case file, there was no mention of a missing ignition cable. There was no mention of the car past the fact that they had checked it for Lauren’s detective badge. The problem was the lack of information. Had Sam told the cops about the ignition cable and they chose not to write it down? Or had Sam forgotten to tell them?

Russell pushed himself to his feet, folder in hand. He made his way back to a set of desks and dropped the folder in front of the only detective seated there.

She stared at him for a moment before looking down at the file. “What’re you doing with this case?”

“Working my case. You and Derek checked Lauren’s car for her police badge. You knew the car hadn’t started that morning. You ever bother to find out why?” Russell asked.

“The ‘why’ wasn’t our biggest concern, Russ. Cars stop working all the time for non ominous reasons.”

“Missing ignition cable.”

“Yeah, Sam told us that.”

“They…?” Russell couldn’t help the scoff that fell from his lips. “You knew and didn’t even bother to write it down?”

“It wasn’t something we wasted our time looking into. Lauren knew cars, Russell. If she had been concerned about why she couldn’t start the damn car, she would’ve told someone. She would’ve told you.”

“She didn’t check why it wouldn’t start. She called me to come get her.”

“She told Sam she didn’t check why it wouldn’t start.” She cleared her throat, closing the file. “Russell, do you know why we started looking into you as a suspect?”

“Because Lauren and I used to sleep together.”

“Mm. And because that ignition cable was found in the glovebox of her car when we were searching for her badge on the night of the shooting. She removed the cable, Russell. She wanted a reason for you to come pick her up.”

“I picked her up from the house nearly every damn day, even when the car was working,” Russell said through his teeth.

“Yeah, and maybe Sam was starting to get a little jealous, so maybe Lauren needed an excuse.”

Russell snatched the folder from her desk. “Fuck you. Sam wasn’t jealous that I slept with Lauren before they ever even met each other. You bastards just needed a suspect so it looked like you were working the case instead of sleeping around.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “Careful, Russ. I’d hate for you to need another mandatory ‘vacation’ from work.”

“Fuck. you.” He pointed at her with the case file in his hand. “If this ignition cable turns out to be something, and it will, I swear to God, I will have you and Derek fired.”

“Good luck, Russ. Convincing Loo of your delusions? Good luck.”

***

Russell had accomplished next to nothing throughout the workday. Aside from his conversation with Detective Clouse pissing him off, his mind had been foggy all day, and his headache had kicked his ass most of the afternoon and into the evening.

He had made the executive decision not to go over to Theodore’s. In combination with his anger, his anxiety sat on his chest heavier than it had in damn near two years. He couldn’t handle Theodore and Vera that evening. Or, more appropriately, they didn’t deserve to have to handle him.

The knock at the door surprised him, to say the least. He liked Theodore, he really did, but it would still be nice to get a heads-up before he and Vera dropped by. He at least wanted a choice in the matter.

Russell pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the door. After unlocking it, he pulled it open. “Andrew?”

The man in question smiled. “Hey. Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, but you looked like hell today. And after this morning, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m all right. You… can still come in, though, if you’d like.”

“Awesome. I brought snacks and games.”

Russell stepped to the side, allowing the man into his house. “Just you, huh?”

“Em’s staying with her friend tonight. The one that was in the hospital for the burns?”

“Helping her out?”

“Yeah. Her family headed back home, but…” Andrew shook his head. “Imagine being all by yourself after that kind of thing. Being in that kind of pain with no one there for you?”

Russell nodded, clearing his throat as he closed the door. “Yeah. It’s good Emey’s there for her.” He rested his head against the wall. “Is that ‘cause of me?”

“What?”

“That you guys are having a night apart? Or is it just because of the friend?”

Andrew laid a hand on Russell’s shoulder. “Em and I are fine. I talked to her about you, but we didn’t fight over it. We had a discussion, and her friend called her while we were in the middle of making supper. We agreed that she’d go over there and I’d finish up food and bring some of it for you and I to have. We’re fine, Russ. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Russell closed his eyes, laying a hand over Andrew’s. “Thank you. And… I’m sorry. It’s been a long fuckin’ day.” He offered a smile. “Guess I’m reverting back to the me that thinks everything’s my fault.”

“Your father was a piece of shit, and none of it was your fault.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Andrew kicked off his shoes. “Come on. Let’s get some food warmed up for you and me before we plug in the Xbox and take out the day on Left 4 Dead.

One corner of Russell’s mouth quirked up. “Sounds good to me, Andy.”

***

After supper and two levels of Left 4 Dead, Andrew cleared his throat, eyes still on the television. “So, do you wanna talk about today?”

“What about today?” Russell asked, fingers tightening briefly on the controller.

“I saw you talking to Clouse.”

“What about her?”

“I know she’s one of the detectives who worked Lauren’s case.”

“Yeah. I was investigating my case.”

“Of course, which also means you were talking to the woman who insinuated you killed Lauren.”

“Also true.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “I’ll rephrase. Wanna talk about anything you found out about the case?”

“Now that, I can talk about.” Russell shifted on the couch, pulling a leg to his chest. “Uh, did I tell you why Lauren was walking that day?”

“No.”

“Her car wouldn’t start.”

“Do you know why?” Andrew asked.

“Yeah. Missing ignition cable. Sam found out eventually, when they had a mechanic look at it after Lauren’s death. So… I talked to Clouse to see if Sam had ever told them about the ignition cable. Clouse says they did, but nothing was looked into. Apparently, the cops or the forensics or… I don’t know. Either way, someone else had found the ignition cable in the glovebox of the car the night of the shooting. So, uh… they assumed she did it so that she had a reason for me to come pick her up without making Sam jealous.”

“Sam was never jealous of you.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to Clouse. Apparently, that’s the whole reason she and Derek cooked up the idea that I gunned Lauren down. Because whoever tampered with her car put the fuckin ignition cable in the glovebox.” Russell cleared his throat. “I wanted to accomplish a hell of a lot more today, but Clouse ruined every damn idea I had, every plan I had. She wished me luck with convincing Loo of my, and I quote, ‘delusions’.”

“Jesus Christ. I hate that woman.”

“You and me both. I’ve tolerated her previously, but if the missing ignition cable turns anything up for me, I’m getting her and Derek fired. If this turns up something, then these fuckers could’ve put the guy in jail a long time ago, and they could’ve stopped him from killing Vince, too.”

“If it turns out that you can find this guy because of the ignition cable, I’ll be right there at your side to make sure those fuckers never work at our station again, brother.”

Russell leaned to the side just long enough to touch his head to Andrew’s shoulder. “Thank you, Andy.”

“My pleasure, Russ.”

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Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Seven

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S. Carved – Chapter Nine

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Chapter Nine

After Carol Sawyer had collected herself, she invited Dallas and Bo inside. Now they sat in her living room, each of them armed with a single cup of coffee. Bo sat beside Dallas on the couch, an open notebook on his lap and a pencil poised and ready for note-taking. For that, Dallas considered himself thankful. His partner in Narcotics had always hated taking notes, had always passed it off to Dallas–not that he entirely minded–but with his dominant hand out of commission, he appreciated Bo’s willingness to be the designated note-taker.

“Miss Sawyer, when is the last time you physically saw your son?” Bo asked.

“Saw? The, uh… the day before he turned eighteen.”

“Why’s that?” Dallas asked.

“He’d been obsessed with this group of people for… years. Two or three, I think. One of his friends at school was a member, and he wanted to join the group too. I told him time and time again that he wouldn’t be joining some group of self-proclaimed cannibals while he was living under my roof. So the very day he turned eighteen, he packed up his things and got the hell out while at work. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Self-proclaimed… cannibals?”

Carol nodded. “That’s what I gathered from Rob, anyway. When he was trying to get my permission to let him join this… group of freaks, he explained some of it to me. I don’t know if they ever actually did it, but I remember him telling me that they believed eating human organs would give them strength. I can’t say they actually ate them, but I can say that’s what they believed in.”

Dallas glanced over at Bo’s notebook. Much to his surprise, the analyst had kept up with notes just fine. They were in some kind of vowel-less shorthand, but he was right on track. Dallas took a sip of his coffee before looking back at Carol again. “When was the last time you heard from your son? A text message, a phone call… Anything of the sort?”

“He called me on his twenty-first birthday. I was at work, so the call went through to voicemail.”

“He left you a message, then?”

Carol nodded. “Yeah. He wanted to let me know how happy he was to be with them. He said he felt at peace, felt… he finally had a purpose in the world.” She shook her head, closing her eyes. “He called me from a payphone. I couldn’t even call him back and try to talk some sense into him. Not that that… ever worked before, but still, a mother hopes.” She opened her eyes, clasping her hands in front of her mouth. “Did those bastards kill my little boy?”

“We can’t say that for certain, ma’am. We’re still in the beginning stages of this investigation, but I assure you we will explore every possibility to find the person or persons responsible for your son’s death.” Dallas cleared his throat. “I just have a few more questions for you, whenever you’re ready.”

***

As they walked down Carol Sawyer’s driveway, Dallas pulled his keys from his pocket. “I know we didn’t get a cult name or anything, but now we have confirmation that he was involved in a cult. That’s a good step forward.” He unlocked the cruiser before looking down at Bo. “Are you okay with admitting that? Or is it too much of an assumption?

Bo grabbed the handle of the passenger door, a small frown set on his face. “Are you mocking me?”

“No. God, no. If talking about it like it’s a fact bothers you, I wanna avoid doing it, that’s all. The closer we are to the same page in our investigation, the smoother things’ll go. In my experience, anyway.”

“In mine, as well,” Bo said quietly. He pulled open the door, clearing his throat. “No, it’s not an assumption. Despite their distance now, her son lived with her until the day he turned eighteen. He spoke of this cult. He requested her permission to join it previous to society-proclaimed adulthood. He called her to tell her how much he loved being a part of the cult. If it wasn’t a fact, it is instead the most elaborate prank to play one’s mother I have ever seen. Calling it a fact doesn’t bother me when it is a fact.”

One corner of Dallas’s mouth lifted. “Good to know, Austen.” He opened the driver’s side door of the cruiser. “Where do we go from here?”

“There are many options for which direction you would like to go.” Bo slid into the car and closed the door.

Dallas let out a breath. He’d need to get better at wording his questions in a way that would get a more direct answer from Bo on the first try.

Or we could kill him and be assigned a new lab geek, one that’s less… Oh, let’s be kind and say ‘complicated’.

Or you could go fuck yourself.

Ed laughed.

Dallas rolled his eyes and slid into the driver’s seat, closing the door behind him. “Where do you think your favorite officer would’ve gone from here in terms of… the next step in the investigation?”

“That would’ve been mostly dependent on the case and what we had accomplished prior to this specific point. Like I said, there are many directions we can go with our next step. For instance, I’m still waiting on blood test results from the victim. I already know he died from blood loss, but if we know what he was injected with prior to that, we may have a better clue as to what kind of person had access to what he was injected with.”

Starting the car, Dallas glanced over at Bo. “What do you mean by that? Uh, the ‘what kind of person had access’ bit.”

“Apologies. Was he injected with something only a veterinarian has access to? Only a doctor? Or was it something you can make? Something you can buy anywhere? If not everyone has easy access to the drug, it helps us narrow down who we’re looking for.”

“Ah, yeah, a fair point, man.” Dallas reached across with his left hand to punch Bo’s shoulder. Bo flinched away, though the look his face read as confusion rather than pain or fear. “Sorry. That was playful. I was about to follow that with the thought that I’m glad to have you as my partner.”

“Playful,” Bo echoed. He nodded once and turned to look out the window.

Dallas let out a breath. Forging a friendship with the short blonde would be a hell of a lot harder than he had initially planned for. Shifting into drive, he pulled away from the curb. “Were you homeschool, Austen?”

“No, I attended public school for the entirety of my schooling career.”

“What were your friends like?”

“There were none?”

“Not even one?”

“No. I had kids that were slightly kinder to me when they forced me to do their homework than other kids were, but that was the general extent of it. It’s one thing to befriend the short kid or the smart kid who skipped a couple grades. It’s another thing entirely to befriend the kids who is both. I could fit in lockers and do all of their homework. You don’t befriend that kid. You make that kid do the assignments you don’t want to do on your own and threaten to lock him in a locker if he doesn’t.”

“Jesus,” Dallas whispered. “I’m sorry your schooling experience, umm… was far from the best.”

“It’s the hand I’ve been dealt, and it’s the one I’m used to. I was prepared for it long before I got to school.”

“Because of your mom?”

“I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

“Yeah, man, of course.” Dallas cleared his throat. “We, uh, we can still watch that security footage together, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Downstairs?”

“We would have to bring one of the televisions down. Those are upstairs for the officers and detectives.”

“Are they, like, trying to corral you guys? You don’t get computers, you don’t get TVs… Why not?”

“It isn’t in the budget. We have our forensic-specific technology, and that’s more or less all that matters.”

“Even though you guys are normally the ones that do the tech shit?”

“Yes. As long as we have what we need to do our job, the majority of the funds are allocated elsewhere. Officers, detectives, insurance, upkeep on police vehicles and weapons.”

“Does Pitman do that?”

“Mister Pitman hands the budget for each department to his lieutenants. They may do with that as they please. I’m sure he would allot more to a department if they deserved it or needed it, but I believe Lieutenant Fox isn’t exactly willing to ask for more.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I can only offer assumptions.”

“Okay, what kind of assumptions can you throw my way?”

Bo shook his head before letting out a sigh instead. “Mister Fox isn’t a fan of chats with Mister Pitman. Budgeting for an increase to the forensics department would require a chat.”

Little tip, Tex, Ed said. If you want this good streak to keep going, don’t ask him any more questions.

Why do you care?

You with friends lets us kill more often than you without friends. I’ll make the sacrifice and leave the little blonde’s life IN his body.

Dallas bit back the initial urge to thank him. Ed was and always would be a monster. Just a voice or not, the monster still didn’t deserve genuine thanks. “Thank you for answering that, Austen. I know you have trouble with certain questions, so thank you.”

“No one… has ever thanked me for that. Are you being sarcastic?”

“No. I appreciate you going a little out of your norm just to answer my question.”

After a moment, Bo nodded. “You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “Do you… mind if we go to the coffee shop before we head back to the station? I personally don’t much care for the coffee in the break room.”

Dallas smiled. “I don’t mind at all, Austen.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem, man.”

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Chapter Eight

Chapter Ten

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Books & Badges – Chapter Thirty-Five

NOT EDITED

Theodore sat down on the stool behind the register, using his cane to help shift his balance and weight away from his left hip. He lifted his head as someone set a small stack of books on the counter. He smiled. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, kiddo. I am shopping for books you and Vera could read together. Know if any of these are ones she’d be interested in?” Jenner asked.

“That’s sweet of you, Dad.”

“I didn’t get to be there much until…” Jenner cleared his throat. “I want to change that.”

“Thank you.” Briefly, Theodore touched his father’s hand. “I won’t ever let a man come between you and your granddaughter again, I promise. If anyone ever tries to force you and Mom out, I’m kicking them to the curb before it’s too late.”

Rather than saying anything in return, Jenner squeezed his son’s hand. Theodore was more than okay with that. In his time with Russell, he had learned that actions truly did speak louder than words, and Jenner squeezing his hand said much more than any ‘thank you’ ever could.

Theodore sorted through the books before pushing five of them back to his father. “I think she’d enjoy these ones, and one of them is a low enough reading level that she could probably start to read it with me. Or you.”

“Or… or me?”

“Dad, I read to her every single night. She would love for you to read to her sometime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe I’ll keep a few of these at the house, then, read to her after school,” Jenner said.

Theodore smiled. “She would absolutely love that.”

His father returned the smile without hesitation. “Perfect. I’ll make sure to do that.” He tapped his fingers to the books on the counter. “Go ahead and ring me up, kiddo.”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

***

Theodore couldn’t help but be surprised that Russell had actually shown up at the bookshop for lunch. Though his heart fluttered at the idea that Russell wanted to sit and eat with him by choice, he had expected the man to either bury himself in work or drown in sorrow.

He was thankful Russell had gone with the lunch choice, to say the least.

Outside, they sat on the hood of Russell’s car, Theodore’s cane leaned up against it. “How was your morning?” Russell asked, eyes on the ground rather than Theodore.

“Not terrible. Dad came in, bought some books for Vera. He’s going to start reading to her, too.”

“She’ll love that, huh?”

“Oh, definitely. She loves being read to, and Dad does the best voices in the world.”

Russell chuckled softly, lifting his head as he took a sip of his pop. “I’m glad you’re getting around to, uh, fixing your relationship with your parents. You all deserve that.”

“Thank you. I’m pretty happy about it, too.” Theodore shook his head. “I can’t believe I let Shane ruin my relationship with them.”

“You were young and in love with a charmer. When Mom and Dad picked out things that were wrong with Shane, it was easy for him to drive a wedge between you all. People like Shane know what they’re doing, how to manipulate people one way or another. You didn’t ‘let’ him ruin anything. He just… did.”

“Yeah,” Theodore said quietly.

Russell cleared his throat, toying with the wrapper his burger sat on. “My biological father did much of the same. He iced out all my friends, all of my brother’s friends, my sister’s friends, all of my mom’s friends. He made sure I didn’t have a relationship with my maternal grandparents, and he made sure Mom didn’t get to talk to them, either. It’s their goal to make sure they’re the only person you have to count out. If they can make you entirely dependent on them, it’s even better. They’re fucking monsters, and they’re damn good at what they do.”

Theodore watched him for a moment before dropping his head to Russell’s shoulder. Russell lifted a hand to his cheek. “You don’t talk much about your mom or brother.”

“Yeah, they’re… I don’t know. They make for difficult topics for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m the one who brought ‘em up.” Russell cleared his throat. “My mom’s been in a private facility for mental health for, umm, for about two years.”

Theodore lifted his head. Russell, however, didn’t turn to face him. “I’m sorry to hear that, Russell.”

“It’s okay. I’m the one who put her there. After a while, it was the only way I could make sure she was safe.”

“From… your father?”

“From herself. Depression ate its way through my family even more than alcohol abuse.”

Theodore wrapped his arms around Russell, closing his eyes as the detective tucked his head beneath Theodore’s chin. Finally, Theodore had landed upon another one of Russell’s hidden facts. Much like when he had found out Russell’s father was abusive, Theodore felt like he understood the man even more. He understood why he went out of his way to be polite, to be kind, to be respectful, to drop everything in favor of helping someone else.

He wanted everyone around him to know they had someone to count on the way he seemingly never had.

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Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Six

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S. Carved – Chapter Eight

NOT EDITED

Chapter Eight

Dallas endured Bo’s silence for nearly an hour before Mister Richardon finally came out with the security footage they needed. The drive back to the police station had been silent, as had the walk through the parking lot, and Dallas followed Bo all the way to the stairs before the shorter man stopped and turned to face him.

“You don’t have to come with me.”

“Do you want me to?” Dallas asked.

“I don’t much care either way. It’s up to you.” Bo turned and headed down the stairs.

Letting out a harsh breath, Dallas followed him. “What’re you going to do?”

“Check to see if we have a match with the DMV’s records.”

“And then?”

“If we do, I will give you that name.”

Despite the words sounding condescending, Bo managed to speak them in the same way he said everything else. They were matter-of-fact and far from being a way to look down on Dallas. It was an odd balance to walk, but as far as Dallas could tell, Bo seemed entirely unaware that it could be taken another way by someone looking to be offended.

“You wanna watch the security footage with me?” Dallas asked.

“If you feel you need a partner for that, yes, I will watch the footage with you.”

“Do you… enjoy watching them?”

Bo unlocked the lab and opened the door. After flipping on the light, he answered with a quiet, “Yes.”

“Sweet. You wanna watch it down here? That way you don’t have to be upstairs with the Saturday day shift?”

“If you would like to do that, we can.” Bo set his camera bag on the floor and lifted his satchel over his head, setting it on the table. “I apologize for involving myself in your life. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong by asking questions, Austen. I’ve been sleeping like shit for over two weeks. You asking questions and writing at the same time just… set something off in my head.”

“My apologies.”

“It’s not your fault I haven’t been sleeping, either. You didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for, not to me.” Dallas set the security footage on the counter, hanging back to give Bo as much space as he wanted. “You were asking about avier, not me. Were you trying to figure out if you were both awkward for the same reason?”

Bo glanced up at him. “Yes.”

“Were you… abused?”

Bo cleared his throat. “My biological parents were far from fans of being ‘blessed’ with an… above average child. As I recall, my mother is the only one who ever physically laid a hand on me.”

“She beat you for being smart?” Dallas asked. Rather than responding, Bo lifted his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Austen. I mean, that…”

Okay, compromise. We kill Austen’s mother, Ed suggested.

Might take you up on that one. “I’m sorry you went through that, Austen. No child deserves any of that.”

“You and your brother know that first hand.”

“Yeah, guess we do.”

Bo nodded.

Finally, Bo’s silence in Mister Richardson’s lobby made sense to him. He hadn’t wanted an apology. Hell, he probably hadn’t even considered himself worthy of one, since he had seen himself as the problem. Instead, more than likely, silence had been his way of avoiding conflict with his biological mother. Bo’s awkwardness was amplified anytime he opened his mouth, and if his biological mother had already hated him, speaking would’ve made it worse. Bo’s silence was his coping mechanism, his submission to end the abuse, to end the situation he didn’t want to be a part of.

Dallas made a mental note of that. If Bo’s silence lasted for any prolonged period of time, it was because he needed an escape from the conversation or situation he had found himself in.

“So… DMV,” Dallas said.

Bo nodded. “Let me check the computer.”

“Sure, man.”

Bo cleared his throat. “The… the computers are upstairs. I’ll be back in a moment if you’d like to stay here.”

“I’ll stay here. Unless me coming with better fits your pattern.” Bo simply shook his head. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

Hands tucked behind his back, Bo stepped past him. For the first time, Dallas let himself truly take in the lab. The damn thing was spotless, immaculate. Every item on the counters and tables seemed to be in their designated place, straight and lined up against the wall. The floor was free of dust or dirt, despite how many times Bo must have walked into the lab straight from an outside crime scene.

Dallas occupied himself with nothing but Ed’s pleas for murder for nearly twenty minutes before Bo came back, a single piece of paper in his hand. He gave it to Dallas and walked back to the table at the other end of the room.

Dallas shook out the paper. “Robert Sawyer, twenty-two years old. Jesus. He started doing this symbolism shit when he was pretty damn young.”

“Yes.”

“So… if it’s a cult–you know, if that’s the theory we hypothesize on here–he’s definitely not the leader of it.”

“ ‘Definitely’ is a strong word in regards to such a hypothesis. Age isn’t an end all, be all situation. The main aspect in regards to leadership is, in all honesty, charm. One must be considered charming by others before they can lead a cult of people toward a unified belief. After that, so long as the charm exudes confidence and promise of great things, people will flock, and they will follow.” Bo cleared his throat, shifting his weight between his feet. “Though… I will agree that it’s unlike he’s the leader. It’s doubtful he’d be the only cut-up corpse on the beach if he was their leader.”

“Like the Jonestown guy, yeah?”

Bo nodded. “Yes. If the leader must go down, they all do.”

Dallas set the paper on the counter and reached up to adjust the strap of his sling. “Security footage, then?”

“We can watch it together if you’d like to, but you should alert his family of his death first.”

“Yeah, not a bad call.”

Bo nodded toward the counter. “The paper I gave you includes his last known place of residence. With his age, there’s a relatively good chance that residence belongs to his parents.”

“Good place to start, if nothing else.” Dallas grabbed the paper. “Did you, uh, ever attend a notification of death with your favorite officer?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m no more experienced in that than you are.” Bo shifted uncomfortably. “I can still go with you, though, if that’s something you would prefer.”

“That’d be appreciated, Austen.”

Bo nodded. “Will you give me a moment to mark the security footage as evidence before we leave?”

“Yeah, of course.” Dallas grabbed the tape and took it over to Bo. “Record whatever you need to. I’m gonna stop by my desk and grab my notepad. So I’ll just wait for you up there?”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Great. I’ll meet you up there when you’re ready to go.”

“Okay.”

Dallas took a step back, clearing his throat. “Hey, uh, look, I don’t wanna overstep, but… if you don’t wanna sleep here tonight and you can’t sleep in an empty house, I’ve got a couch you’re more than welcome to. You know, until your analyst gets back.”

Finally, Bo met his gaze. It was brief, but Dallas was certain it had happened. “What would you expect in return?”

“You to drop the ‘Mister’ you’ve started putting in front of my name.”

“I appreciate the offer. I… will take it into consideration.”

Dallas smiled. “Works for me. Take your time, and I’ll be upstairs till you’re ready to head out.”

“And then where?”

“Hopefully the parking lot.”

A faint smile tugged at one corner of Bo’s mouth. “I would agree with that plan. I won’t be long.”

Dallas gave him a two-fingered salute and walked out of the lab. He figured Bo would never realize it, but not immediately rejecting Dallas’s offer was damn good progress. Maybe finding something more on the ‘common ground’ scale had helped.

Or he senses we’re monsters and totally wishes he were dead. He just wants us to expedite the process, Ed said.

Or, he senses that you’re an asshole, and he’s going to do us all the favor of killing us both.

Ed only laughed his response.

***

Dallas walked up the stairs of Robert Sawyer’s last known residence, Bo a good two or three feet behind him. Dallas let out a harsh breath before knocking on the door. It wasn’t long before a woman opened it. She eyed Dallas, gaze settling on his badge for several seconds before her gaze shifted to Bo.

Finally, her eyes lifted to Dallas’s face. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Officer Silver from the LAPD. This is the last known residence of Robert Sawyer. Do you, by any chance, know him?”

“I-I’m his mother.”

“Miss Sawyer, I’m very sorry to tell you this, but your son was found dead yesterday morning.”

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Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine

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Books & Badges – Chapter Thirty-Four

NOT EDITED

Russell came to again for what felt like the millionth time. He’d been in and out of sleep ever since he had handed Super Mario Bros over to Theodore and Vera, taking his choice of Luigi out of the game. He cleared his throat, reaching out for his beer. Theodore sat between his legs on the couch. With the footrest kicked out, there was more than enough room for them both, giving Vera the other half of the couch.

“You were out for quite a bit that time,” Theodore said.

“Mm.” Russell took a sip of his beer. “Was I?”

“Yeah. Long enough to start snoring.”

“Sorry about that.”

Theodore shook his head. “You’re cute when you snore.”

Russell smiled, bowing his head to kiss Theodore’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He leaned back against the couch, gaze falling to his watch. “You gettin’ tired, Vera?” he asked.

“A little.”

“Yeah. It’s just about your bedtime.” Russell scrubbed a hand over his face. “You headin’ home tonight, Theo?”

“Do you want me to stay?” Theodore asked.

Russell snorted. “You’re turning my question tactic back on me.”

“Duh.”

“I’d love for you to stay, but I don’t want you to screw up your hip.”

“I can manage a night,” Theodore said.

Russell nodded. “You and Vera can have my bed. I almost never sleep in it, anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. And then I can take you guys home tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Russell mumbled.

Theodore reached back and patted his cheek. “Let’s finish up this level, okay, sweetheart? And then we’ll get you ready for bed.”

Vera nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

***

Russell awoke to Theodore climbing onto the couch. “Hey,” Russell whispered, his voice rough. “Where…? What time is it?”

“Little after two,” Theodore said, his voice soft. He leaned his cane up against the end table before leaning back against Russell. “Vera’s been asleep for a while, so I figured I’d come back out here, snuggle up with my own personal heater.”

“Mm.” Russell wrapped his arms around Theodore. “Sure you wanna sleep reclined like this? I can readjust and lay down instead.”

“This is fine, Russ. Promise.”

“Okay,” Russell whispered. He yawned, dropping his head to the back of the couch again. “Night, Theo.”

“Night, Russell.”

***

The alarm on Russell’s watch was its own form of incessant hell. With a groan, he pressed the button on the side to shut it off. He pulled open the end table drawer and grabbed the orange pill bottle from inside. “Look at that. First time you’re getting taken on time in a while,” he whispered.

“You should not be drinking while you’re on that.”

Russell tilted his head back to meet Theodore’s gaze. “Where’d you come from?”

“Kitchen. I started coffee.” Theodore leaned down, wrapping an arm around Russell’s shoulders. “What’s your poison?”

“Lexapro.”

Theodore smiled faintly. “Me, too.” He pressed a kiss to Russell’s temple. “You know you’re gonna be dizzy and drowsy all day, right?”

“Yeah. Beer was a bad choice but… last night was a bad night.”

“I know, Russ.” Theodore rubbed his hand over Russell’s chest in a small circle. “Depression or anxiety?”

“Both.”

“Me, too.” Theodore dropped his chin to Russell’s shoulder. “It seems to be working for you.”

“It does. Took a couple tries to get there, of course.” Russell reached up and patted Theodore’s cheek. “Come on. I need water. And… I need to get you home to take yours?”

Theodore smiled. “I brought mine with, and I’ve already taken it.” He smacked Russell’s chest. “Bring them with you from now on. If you’re only taking them on time when you’re sleeping here on the couch, you aren’t doing yourself any good. You don’t have to be ashamed of taking them, obviously.”

“I’m not. I just forget to grab them.” Russell closed the footrest and pushed himself to his feet. “After coffee’s ready, we’ll head on out to your place. I’ve got nothing for breakfast here, so we can grab something on our way to the school.” A pause. “Assuming… that you’d be okay with me taking Vera to school and you to work?”

Theodore nodded. “Works for me. Take your meds, and I’ll go wake up Vera. Back in a few.”

Russell squeezed Theodore’s hand as the shorter man walked out of the room. Russell shook a pill into his palm and tossed the bottle back into the drawer. In the kitchen, he downed it with a sip of water.

Letting out a long breath, he tilted his head back against the cupboards. His head was already killing him from the hangover alone. Stack alcohol-versus-Lexapro dizziness on top of the hangover, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

But that wasn’t an option. He had a case to work. He had justice to serve. He had two deaths to avenge.

Crawling into bed and blocking out the world would have to wait.

***

With Vera dropped off at school, Russell pulled into the parking lot of the book store and parked as close to the building as he could. “Well, here we are.”

Theodore nodded, taking off his seatbelt. “So… what’re you gonna do today?”

“Got a couple things in mind, but I’m planning on starting with, umm… with questioning the people the guns were stolen from. I can’t access the reports on those missing weapons without contacting the police department, and I have to do that through my lieutenant. If he doesn’t find out about Lauren’s part in this… Well, that’s for the best.”

“Yeah. Definitely for the best.” Theodore reached over and laid a hand over Russell’s. “You stay sane today, okay?

One corner of Russell’s mouth lifted. “I’ll do my best.”

Theodore laid a hand on one side of Rusell’s face, leaning over to kiss the other. “I’m here if you need me. Call, text, lunch. Whatever you need, okay?”

“All right, Theo.” Russell lifted a hand to cover Theodore’s. “Thank you for letting me drive you and Vera today.”

“Thank you for being willing to.”

“Of course,” Russell said softly. “Have fun at work. Smell the books and talk to people and… and enjoy yourself today.”

“I’ll do my best.” Theodore poked his chest. “You… I know you can’t have fun at work right now, but just make sure you survive it. And no drinking tonight. You and your meds need a break from yesterday.”

“I know. Thank you.” Russell leaned over and pressed a kiss to Theodore’s forehead. “Text me if you need a ride after work. Benefits of being a detective, I guess. Even when I’m not at my desk, I’m still working.”

“I will. See you tonight, Russell.”

Russell nodded. “See you tonight, Theo.”

***

“Russell.”

The detective lifted his head, hand frozen over his desk phone. “Lieutenant.”

Marcus cleared his throat. “I’d like you to come with me to my office, Russell.”

“Is everything okay?” Russell asked.

“Yeah, but I think we need to have a little talk. And I think you know why.”

Russell pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. Hands shoved into his pockets, he followed Marcus through the detective desks and back to his office.

Marcus gestured to the chairs before his desk, closing the door with his free hand. “Go on and have a seat, Russell.”

Russell crossed the room, lowering himself into the chair closest to the door. Marcus rounded the desk and sat down. “What’s up, Loo?” Russell asked.

“I’ve been informed… that you’ve been looking through Lauren’s case file.”

“I…” Russell closed his eyes. “I have, yeah.”

“You know there are multiple reasons as to why you cannot do that, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m half-tempted to pull you off Vince’s case, but from your progress report yesterday, I believe you’re doing a damn fine job. But still… what the fuck are you doing messing around in Lauren’s file?”

“The guy who killed Vince killed Lauren, too.”

“Russell,” Marcus whispered.

“He did! I swear, Marcus, I can prove it to you.”

Marcus sighed, folding his arms over his chest. “Are you sure this isn’t another one of your… moments?”

“I am not having a breakdown. Pardon me for being mentally unsound when they were accusing me and actively investigating me for gunning down my own fucking partner.”

Marcus held out a hand. “All right. You’re right. I’m sorry.” Gently, he swept his hand through the air, palm facing the ceiling. “Go on, then. Prove the similarity to me,” he said.

“For real, or are you humoring me?” Russell asked.

“For real. You’ve always been a good detective, Russell. You’ve always been a good cop. If you think there’s something that connects them, I’d be an idiot not to listen.”

Hesitantly, Russell nodded. “Lauren and Vince were both off-duty. Yeah, Vince was retired, but he was still ‘off-duty’. They were both shot in the back six times. Neither of them were robbed, even though Lauren had just been out shopping. Both of them were missing their badges. They were both shot with stolen weapons. The shooter in both cases is estimated to be between six-foot and six-foot-two. Those are my similarities so far.”

Marcus nodded, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “Those are some… compelling coincidences.”

“Coincidences?”

“I’m not saying it’s not the same guy, Russell. I can’t determine that. But right now, they’re circumstantial.”

“Of course they are. I’m not done investigating.”

“Right.” Marcus cleared his throat. “Next time, just let me know you’re connecting the dots, especially when it’s a case you were a suspect in.”

“Unrightfully so.”

“I know. Point is, when you need something for a case, get it yourself, and if no one will fulfill that request, just talk to me. I can’t have you working a case if you’re constantly fearing that I’m gonna pull you off of it. I need you to feel comfortable working the case. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Marcus nodded. “All right, Russell. You’re dismissed. Good luck with this case. And if you ever start to feel like… you can’t do this anymore? You let me know.”

“I will, sir. Thank you.” Russell pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. On his way back to his desk, he stopped at Emilia and Andrew’s desks. “Where’s Emey?”

“Umm…” Andrew lifted his head, coffee mug held to his lips. “Good question. Break room, maybe?”

Russell nodded. “When she gets back, please tell her that I appreciate the concern, but I don’t need Loo thinking I’m having a fucking breakdown, too.”

Andrew held up a hand, setting his coffee mug back on his desk. “Breakdown? Russ, take a seat, talk to me.”

Against his best judgment, Russell sat down in the chair in front of Andrew’s desk. “I’m working on Vince’s case.”

“I had heard that. I can’t even imagine how difficult that is for you.”

Russell nodded. “Yeah, well, multiply it by the fact that the guy who killed Vince killed Lauren, too.”

“Jesus, Russ,” Andrew whispered.

Again, Russell nodded. “I told Emey about it so she could get Lauren’s case file for me.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah. And then she reminded me of all of my previous hard times and told me to keep my head on straight so it doesn’t happen this time, too. I promised her I’d be fine, but it seems she told Loo about it, anyway, who asked me if I was sure this wasn’t one of my ‘moments’.”

Andrew let out a harsh breath. “Loo… should know better than that. And I’m sorry about Em. She loves you, Russ. You’re like a damn brother to us both. I’m sure she wasn’t seeking to hurt you. She couldn’t have known Loo would talk to you.”

“Since… she happened to ditch before I came outta his office, I have a feeling she knew.”

“I’m sorry, Russell,” Andrew said softly. “You know Em. She wants to help people whenever she can. Sometimes it’s just… Sometimes, it doesn’t go how she planned it to. It’s not malice on her part.”

“I know. It’s her moral compass telling her what to do. So just… let her know that I’ll keep the case to myself on this one. I love her, but I can’t have her jeopardizing Vince’s or Lauren’s justice because she thinks she’s doing me a favor,” Russell said. “I have no… ill will held against her. Just let her know, please?”

After a moment, Andrew nodded. “Okay.” He leaned to the side, grabbing Russell’s hand as the detective rounded his desk. “If you need to talk and you truly don’t feel comfortable sharing it with Em, I’m your guy. Okay? No matter what.”

“Thank you.” Russell patted the back of Andrew’s hand, taking a small step to the side once Andrew let go of him. “When you tell Emey about the, uh, leaving her out of the case thing, make sure to include the fact that I’m not mad at her. I just don’t want to talk to her… right this instant.”

Andrew nodded. “I’ll make sure that’s clear.” He let out a breath. “Good luck, Russell. Seriously, I’m hoping for the best with this one.”

“You and me both, Andy. You and me both.”

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Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Five

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