Chapter Twenty
Griffin
Paranormal Problems Bureau
Cade tipped his head to one side and studied me. "There's something different about you."
I let out a sigh, flexing my fingers in the pool of sunlight spilling in through the window to where we sat, Cade always preferring to conduct meetings in comfort rather than from behind his desk. "Lack of sleep?"
He considered my suggestion for a moment before shaking his head. "No, more like the opposite. You seem more at peace than you have for a long time. I'd have to go back to before—"
I cut Cade off. My wounds from Whitney's death might be starting to heal, but that didn't mean I wanted to talk about it all the damn time. "Ben and I are back together, if you must know."
Cade arched an eyebrow. "Really? Wow! I'm surprised."
"Are you? "
His nod was slow and considered. "You're the most stubborn son of a bitch I know. I figured you'd drink yourself into an early grave before admitting you made a mistake."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Who said anything about making a mistake? I did what was right at the time."
The snort Cade let out was so condescending he must have practiced it in front of a mirror to get it to that high a standard. "Of course it was. Who wouldn't want to be miserable for three years and pickle your liver in the process?"
"I think the words you're looking for are that you're happy for me."
Cade smiled. "I am happy for you. I told you when you and Ben first got together that he was one of the good ones. You're lucky he didn't find someone else while you were busy being an idiot."
"Necromancer bond," I reminded him.
"You ignored it for three years, so let's not pretend there was never a possibility of Ben finding himself in a relationship that was far less intense, far easier, and that came with the bonus of not having to put up with your sorry ass."
The sad thing is it was true, the realization enough to bring me out in a cold sweat. I was damn lucky that Ben hadn't found a suitable replacement. Because Cade was right, just because we were fated mates and should be together, didn't mean there were no other options out there. There were other necromancers who'd lost partners and had to move on through no fault of their own. Yet, Ben had admitted that, just like me, there'd been no one except for one-night stands. I probably had his long hours at work to thank for that. Who knew I'd ever find something to be grateful to murderers for ?
"Will you be able to make it work this time?" Cade asked, his expression one of genuine concern.
"I hope so. We're taking things one day at a time." Talking about Ben had me concentrating on him to see if there were any clues about what he was up to. There were no powerful emotions coming through, though. No alien taste in my mouth either. So wherever he was, he wasn't eating or drinking, and he was perfectly fine.
Cade snapped his fingers in front of my face and I flinched back from them. "I was talking to you," he snapped irritably. "The lights were on, but no one was home."
"Sorry. I was thinking about…"
"Ben," he finished with a slight roll of his eyes. "I'm remembering how annoying it was when the two of you were together before… always making eyes at each other… Ben this and Ben that every other sentence."
"You'd prefer me miserable?"
He thought about it for a moment and then sighed. "Probably not. I reserve the right to change my mind, though. Anyway, now I've got your attention, I was asking if you'd be back at work next week? It's been tight trying to handle things with just two necromancers."
"Still no John? Has the council not forgiven him yet for trying to reenact Michael Jackson's Thriller video, graveyard and all?"
Cade laughed. "I'd forgotten you used to have a sense of humor. I must call Ben and congratulate him on locating it." When I pulled a face, Cade only laughed harder. "Actually, as of a few days ago, he's a registered necromancer again. I'm working on getting him to come in for a meeting. Or should I say, working on them . You can't get John in a room these days without Bellamy. That's the problem with necromancers. Once they find their chosen one, they stick to them like glue. Present company excepted obviously."
I ignored the jibe. "Do you think he'll come back and work here?"
Cade hitched his ankle over the opposite knee, his slight smirk answering the question before he put it into words. "I'm quietly confident. He just needs a bit of time to realize which side his bread is buttered on."
"Great," I said sardonically. "The place just wouldn't be the same without John being a cocky prick ninety-five percent of the time."
"So… next week?" Cade asked, as a reminder that I still hadn't answered his question.
"I presume so. There shouldn't be anything else they need me to do now that Satanic Romeo is in custody."
"It's definitely him, then?"
"It would seem so."
Cade's brow wrinkled. "I thought you and Ben interviewed him earlier in the case. Couldn't you tell there was something off about him?"
"He wasn't wearing a necklace made of fingers, if that's what you're asking."
I wasn't concerned about giving Cade details of the case. No doubt his many connections meant he knew it all, anyway. Besides, now that Dougie was in custody, it was only a matter of time before the press got hold of all the finer details previously kept from them. They were going to have a field day with the satanic symbols—even if they hadn't amounted to anything in the end .
"Anyway," Cade said, "I guess the main thing is you got him in the end. I tell you what… take Monday off and I'll see you back here on Tuesday. How's that? Maybe you and Ben can do something if he can get the time off. He's the hero of the hour. I doubt anyone is going to say no to him."
"Unusually generous, but I'll take it before you change your mind. "
A full bladder had me stopping off at the restroom once my meeting with Cade ended. Habit had me using the one on the necromancer's floor, even though I had zero intentions of going anywhere near my desk. I'd save that ‘joy' until Tuesday. Not losing myself in a bottle anymore meant I was going to have to turn up to work a lot more than I had in the past few years. It was time to live again instead of merely existing.
I frowned at the sound of a voice as I pushed the restroom door open, not letting it swing shut to announce my presence as I listened.
"… I know that."
Calisto's voice. I hadn't been away from the PPB—or absent enough before that—that I didn't recognize it. He was in a stall with the door closed. Did he have someone in there with him? The little devil. So much for being a goody two-shoes. Who would he be screwing in the PPB, though? One of the psychics? I doubted it. Someone from IT or human resources? That was more feasible .
"Yeah, but it's not that simple, is it?" A pause. "It's easy for you to say that."
Disappointment hit at the lack of a second voice, dashing my hopes of uncovering a juicy scandal. I assumed Calisto was on his phone. Why take a phone call in there, though? Why not take it at his desk? Perhaps there was a chance of scandal, after all.
"I don't want to do that." An edge of frustration had crept into Calisto's voice, which was unusual when I'd witnessed him being anything but affable. "You can keep telling me that all you want, but it's not me. It's not something I want, and if you want me to keep talking to you, you need to stop putting pressure on me." Another pause while the other person was presumably speaking. "I'll just pretend you're not here. I'm going to do it now. See if I don't."
The toilet flushed and then Calisto stepped out of the cubicle without a phone in his hand. He did a double take when he saw me, color rushing to his cheeks as he went over to the sink and turned the tap on.
I finally let the door swing shut and followed him over to the sinks, propping my hip against one and watching him as Calisto refused to meet my gaze in the mirror while he washed his hands. "I didn't know you were back," he eventually said when the silence had stretched on for too long. "I thought I was alone on this floor."
"I thought you had a guy in there." Calisto glanced back at the stall like there was something to see. Which was weird, considering he'd left the door open and there was nothing in the stall save for what should have been there. I wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to wind him up a bit more, though. "I thought you'd dragged Asher down here to see if it was possible to ruffle him."
Calisto frowned as he turned the tap off and reached for a paper towel to dry his hands. "What do you mean?"
"Asher. Man of no emotions. That's why John calls him various names, all to do with ice. That was the joke. The very unlikely thought of Asher having sex with anyone. Never mind, in a bathroom stall. I'm not convinced that beneath those sharp suits, there's anything to see. He's probably got the genitals of an Action Man." When Calisto just stared, I felt the need to explain. "They don't have any, right? Just painted on pants. Or nothing at all. You must have seen one."
"I know what an Action Man is."
"So why the confusion?"
"Asher always sounds nice on the phone when I speak to him. He's got a lovely voice."
"I'm sure Jeffrey Dahmer sounded nice on the phone." Christ! I had serial killers on the brain, which wasn't surprising considering how I'd spent the last couple of weeks. Hopefully, it would wear off when I got back to a normal routine. "You've got to admit that in person, he's a little harder to take." I was aware that given my less than sparkling personality of late that I could probably win awards for hypocrisy, but this was Calisto, who was far too nice to pick me up on it.
"I've never met him."
"What?" I stared at him, trying to make sense out of his words. "What do you mean? How's that possible?" Calisto's only response was a shrug. "What about when you go upstairs to see Cade?"
"Asher's never there. "
"He's always there. John even jokes about him never going home."
Calisto shook his head. "His desk is always empty whenever I go up."
Losing patience with the sheer absurdity of the conversation, I made for the stall Calisto hadn't just come out of, unable to shake the memory of the bizarre look he'd given the other one, like there really had been someone in there. Was it too much to expect at least one person in my life to behave normally? Was Calisto always like this and I'd been too lost in my own head—or drunk—to notice? It would explain why I'd always thought he was too sweet to be a necromancer. Perhaps there was a big dose of weird in there, after all.
"Griffin?"
I stilled with my hand on the door, turning back to face him. "Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're better."
"Better?"
He smiled that genuine smile of his, the one that always used to engender rage in me when I had nothing to smile about. Now, it was nice. Like sitting in the park when it was just that bit too cold, and the sun coming out to bathe you in its glow and warm you through. How did someone who dealt in death make you feel so alive?
And although I might have done my best to ignore it, happy to wallow in misery, he'd always had that effect on me. It was one of the reasons I'd avoided him. Was that what was happening with Asher? I couldn't think of any other explanation for Cade's PA always being mysteriously absent whenever Calisto was in the vicinity. Perhaps Asher was worried that one glimpse of Calisto's smile would have him melting .
"This is the longest conversation we've ever had," Calisto said in answer to my enquiry. "You've been… elsewhere."
Elsewhere. It was an apt way of describing it, conjuring up my, here in body, not in mind state, perfectly. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
Calisto smiled again, that same warmth hitting me. Someone should bottle him and prescribe him on the NHS. I had a feeling he'd do to the waiting list what no government legislation could manage. "You're forgiven. I'm glad you're back. You are back?"
"I am," I agreed, waiting until he'd left before taking my much-needed piss.
I avoided the office when I left the restroom, Calisto hard at work with his head bent over his desk, and made for the lift. One of the PPB's psychics occupied the lift when it arrived, making it extremely tempting to pretend I didn't need it after all. Forcing myself to step in, I greeted the man coolly. "Kendrick."
"Griffin." There was far more warmth in his voice than there was in mine, but then I couldn't delve into his mind and read him like a book. The lift jerked into motion and I started thinking of the most mundane things I could: the layout in the supermarket where I usually shopped; the organization of my wardrobe; recalling as many digits of pi as I could.
The journey to the ground floor seemed to take forever, Kendrick not getting out on the floor where the psychics were based. When the lift finally ground to a halt, he barred my way, refusing to move aside when I would have stepped past. "It's unnecessary, you know."
"What's unnecessary?"
He smirked. "Filling your head with all that stuff. Although, I appreciated the maths lesson, and I really must check out where you shop. They clearly have the best grapefruits. "
I held his gaze. "Right. It sounds like it's necessary. You clearly had a good dig around in there."
"Actually, I didn't. When people try too hard to think of something else, they may as well grab a loudhailer and shout it. Had you not bothered, I wouldn't have thought you were harboring anything interesting enough to tune in. Now, though…" His smirk grew wider. "Now, I'm wondering what you're trying to hide. I heard CID had called on your services for the Satanic Romeo case. Is it something to do with that?"
I pushed past him, Kendrick letting out a laugh. "We should have a drink sometime and I'll explain how it really works instead of everyone treating us like we've got nothing better to do than read every single thought that comes into their mind."
I kept walking without bothering to look back. "No thanks."
"Your loss."
I seriously doubted that. I'd just stepped out on the street when my phone lit up with Ben's name, the sight making me smile. What a difference a couple of weeks made.
"Hey!" I infused the single syllable with a promise I hadn't intended it to have.
"Hey yourself." There was no seduction in Ben's voice, but he was probably at work, so I didn't take it personally. "I thought you might want an update."
"I do." Using my ID, I headed back into the foyer of the PPB for privacy, Kendrick thankfully no longer anywhere to be seen. Had the fucker only traveled down to the ground floor to mess with me? I wouldn't put it past him. That was the problem with the psychics. They weren't at all apologetic about what they could do. Maybe if they were, people wouldn't treat them like a bunch of freaks .
"Dougie didn't wear a jacket to Eclipse," Ben said. "The CCTV from the club clearly shows him arriving at nine without one."
"Right." I knew Ben had been hoping to gain some insight from the contents of his pockets.
"Which begs the question, where the knife came from when there was nowhere he could have concealed it beneath his clothes."
"Are you sure?"
"We've studied him from every angle, and there's not a single lump or bump in his clothing. And you saw the knife. It wasn't a small one."
"So you're saying he got it from the club?"
"He must have done."
"Maybe he found his way into an office and got it from there."
"That was my first thought. But everyone at Eclipse is claiming they've never seen it before. So either the manager's lying through his teeth, or Dougie got it from somewhere else."
"Where?"
Ben sighed. "I don't know, and Dougie isn't saying. But then he isn't saying anything now that Mike Fenchurch is on the scene."
Mike Fenchurch was Dougie's lawyer, the man—just as Ben had predicted—instructing his client to say nothing as soon as he'd been brought on board. "What about the search of Dougie's flat? Did that turn up anything?"
"Nothing. No diary detailing his crimes. No receipt for a sharp knife. And definitely no fingers. Just a very overwrought mother who is extremely vocal that her son couldn't possibly have done what he's accused of. "
"She knows he confessed, right?"
"Ah yeah, that's the other thing," Ben said wearily. "He's schizophrenic and off his meds. And don't ask why we weren't told that when we went round to interview him because I've been asking that myself and getting no answers that don't scream gross incompetence."
"What about the alibi?"
"She's not shifting on it. She claims Dougie was with her on the night of Rupert's death. That there's no way he could have done it."
"What's your gut feeling?"
There was a long pause while Ben mulled the question over. "How would he know about the symbols and the fingers if he hadn't done it? And the schizophrenia only gives more of a reason. His mother has admitted that it's a constant struggle to get him to take his meds. That Dougie doesn't see that he copes far better when he's on them. It wouldn't surprise me if Rupert ended things with him because of that. They probably met when he was on his meds and he found things too difficult when Dougie stopped taking them. Proving he did it is going to be one hell of a job."
"And I always thought catching the murderers was the hard part."
Ben gave a humorless laugh. "Definitely not. That's just the start. The making sure they go down for a very long time is always the challenge."
"His confession must count for something? That, and him having made previous threats to someone who ended up dead?"
"Hopefully."
The invisible thread that connected Ben and me gave a twang and I hated not being able to see his face. "Where are you? "
"At the station."
"What would it take for me to lure you away from there?"
"A better offer."
"Me… you… a takeaway… a massage? How does that sound?"
"You always gave very good massages."
The smile in Ben's voice made me smile. "My place or yours?"
"Mine. It'll give me time to shower and slip into something more comfortable."
"I didn't know you had a silk negligee."
Ben's laugh was throaty. "I'm afraid I can't promise that."
"Pity. What time do you want me there?"
"Now." The word hung there for a moment before Ben laughed again. "Which… would be ludicrous considering I'm not there, so you'd be hanging around outside waiting."
"You're worth waiting for."
"Smooth, Griff. Very smooth." It pleased me that Ben hadn't felt the need to point out that he'd been waiting for me to come to my senses for long enough. It meant we really were making a fresh start. And I intended to make the most of that tonight and distract Ben from thinking about the case for at least a couple of hours.
"How about six?" Ben suggested. "I should be able to get out of here by five. And it will give me time for that shower."
"Well, if you don't have time," I whispered seductively. "I'm happy to help you with that. You know, scrub all those hard to reach places for you. I can be very thorough."
"I'll bear that in mind." He cleared his throat. "I better go. Baros has just come out of his office, and I suspect he's looking for me. "
"Give him my love and I'll see you soon." I hung up while Ben was still chuckling about the idea of telling the DCS that I loved him, his farewell barely audible.