Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

B el stopped by the room designated as Lio's, hearing what sounded like a TV program and laughter from Lio and Jessa. He nearly knocked and asked if he could join them. No. They seemed to be having fun. Bel wouldn't interfere.

Instead, he ate a sandwich he found in the refrigerator, explored his room—which took about five minutes—then showered and climbed into bed. So much had happened in so little time. He needed to come to terms with his new reality.

He looked over to the next pillow. Why hadn't he brought his purple dog? At least then, he'd have someone to talk to. The room was quieter than the Carnival, with no sounds to keep him awake. Yet still, it took him about an hour to fall asleep.

In dreams, he hung suspended in the place between places, looking for the dark shape he'd seen before, and woke up tired after a night of fruitless searching.

He indulged in his budding coffee addiction while waiting for wakefulness to arrive, then showered, shaved, and dressed in jeans and a FAET golf shirt he'd found on the dresser. Today, he might get a taste of what being a FAET agent meant while going on a ride-along with Morrisey. Why couldn't it be Farren?

No, he shouldn't think unkindly. Morrisey had plenty of job knowledge, even though Bel preferred Farren's calm demeanor and endless patience over Morrisey's abrupt gruffness.

Bel took his time preparing for his day, hoping for a knock at the door that never came, and then strode down the hallway. He stopped to listen at Lio's door but didn't hear anything, so he forced back disappointment and headed to the elevator. When he arrived on the office floor, Arianna sat at her desk, her piled-up hair secured with two pencils.

"Good morning!" Arianna greeted him far too cheerfully.

"Good morning." Bel would never reach Arianna's level of perkiness. The mere thought wore him out, and he leaned against her desk. He could've done with another few hours of sleep.

"I made you some cookies," she announced, handing over a zippered plastic bag.

Oh, crap. He'd been warned the infamous cookies were more likely to be one of Arianna's cooking disasters than edible. His "Need I ask?" came out a bit harsher than intended.

Arianna sniffed, coming to the defense of her cookies. "Carrot, and before you turn up your nose, might I remind you that carrot is a very popular kind of cake."

Bel took the bag. "Thank you." On a particularly alien plane, the Carnival served some kind of local delicacy that turned out to be bird feathers. Nothing Arianna came up with could top bird feathers, could it?

"You're welcome. Now, go get some more coffee before you meet with Morrisey. We can't have two growly old bears running around."

Growly old bear? Bel waved a dismissive hand, slogged to the break room for more coffee, then took a seat in Morrisey's office. He'd no sooner sat down and taken a sip when Morrisey poked his head in the door.

"Come on. We just got a call." Morrisey left as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving Bel to hurry to keep up.

Were they actually going to a crime scene? Bel couldn't decide whether to be elated or horrified. He'd wanted to see FAET in action but thought and reality were two different things. Still, no denying the excitement.

He and Morrisey didn't speak on their way to the car, and only when they'd both buckled in did Morrisey say, "We've got a body swapper to find."

"Body swapper?"

"The rules say to only take a dead or dying body. Pushing a human out's a capital offense, but some travelers still take the risk." Morrisey backed the car out of the parking space, and then he drove past the guardhouse and onto the street.

"Why would they do that?" Bel had found a suitable body easily enough.

Morrisey shrugged. "Some folks don't think laws apply to them. Some might be in a dying body they can't heal and feel desperate. Some might want to take the body of someone rich and powerful. A few years ago, someone possessed the country's vice president. What a clusterfuck."

"If they took over a public figure…" That would be like an imposter replacing Udeall, someone who had the position to make or change laws.

"Yeah, they could do a lot of damage and risk exposing all of us." Morrisey pulled the car onto a quiet side street. "Some people gossip about Farren hijacking a body because his host had been a model, but the truth is he found a drug overdose victim. Farren tried to save him, but he couldn't. It's not his fault the guy happened to be gorgeous."

"Do you mind me asking how you got your body?" If someone was after a rich, powerful, or good-looking host, they might have passed Morrisey by, for he came across as just an average working man who wasn't particularly handsome. Then again, there had to be more to Morrisey James than met the eye, given how Farren looked at him with such adoration.

"A couple whose baby was dying was duped by an asshole who charged them big bucks to save their kid. He summoned a spawn from Domus instead and killed them when they tried to get out of the unholy deal they'd made. I grew up with adoptive parents, thinking I was human."

"Didn't you have strange powers? How did you not know you weren't human?"

Morrisey shrugged, steering the car with both hands latched to the steering wheel. "When you're different, you learn to hide it because you think something's wrong with you. But my powers did help me in detective work because I could get bits of insight from murder victims."

A shiver crept up Bel's spine. "That doesn't sound like something I'd want."

"Me either, but I had the skill, so I used it." Morrisey pulled a foil pack from his pocket and offered it to Bel.

Bel shook his head. The pack looked to have traveled in Morrisey's pocket for some time. "No, thank you."

Morrisey unwrapped a piece of gum one-handed and popped it into his mouth. "I gave up smoking five years ago, but gum still helps with the occasional craving." He slowed the car, turned into a driveway, and parked. "We're here."

Two police cars sat in front of a modest brick house with white shutters, one of many nearly identical houses in a row. A police radio crackled in the background. They got out, and Morrisey led the way up the cracked sidewalk to the front door. Persistent blades of grass pushed up from the cracks.

Several uniformed officers stilled at their approach and stared but didn't speak. They weren't a very welcoming group, were they?

"They act like they don't like us much." Morrisey sounded more amused than offended, making no attempt to lower his voice. "I used to be with Atlanta P.D. Now I'm with the FBI."

The cops reanimated, quickly turning away and busying themselves elsewhere.

Morrisey continued, a bit of extra drawl to his voice, "There might be some jealousy and suspicion, but it probably has more to do with my partner on the force committing suicide right before I quit." He spoke so matter-of-factly, his blank expression not showing any grief, but Bel felt a flash of pain that hit him like a brick to the face. If someone's emotions were strong enough, he couldn't avoid picking up on them, even if he made a conscious effort not to.

"He killed himself?" Having recently fled Domus, where people were desperate for any chance of survival, Bel couldn't imagine not wanting to live. "Why?

"He was under the influence of a traveler." They reached the front door, and an officer handed over gloves and something else. "That traveler is now dead," Morrisey added with unmistakable satisfaction.

Vengeance for a lost partner. Choosing a human life over a traveler one. Morrisey might be the right one to instruct Bel, after all, with his dedication to justice.

"Shoe covers and gloves," Morrisey explained, handing over the items. "Put them on. We need to be quick. Those officers have to wait outside until we finish our assessment, which doesn't make them like us more, let me tell you."

Bel slipped the covers over his shoes and followed Morrisey into the building, pulling on the gloves.

Morrisey stepped into the living room and immediately began dancing—or at least it looked like dancing. He slowly walked from one wall to the other, turning one way, then another, steering clear of items on the floor. He took a pad and pen from his pocket, made a few notes, moved a few feet over, and returned. Next, he repeated the pattern crosswise, forming a grid search pattern.

"I have to make sure we didn't miss anything. It's critical to take your time and be observant at a crime scene. You never know what small insignificant detail might solve the case." Morrisey finished the living room with no further comments, then eased down the hall, taking light steps.

Bel followed behind, attempting to be quiet. The concentration on Morrisey's face didn't invite conversation. He'd save any questions for later.

They stepped into a bedroom where a beautiful blonde woman lay on the bed, appearing to be asleep. "Her friend came to pick up the woman who lives here for work and found the blonde instead. The report says it appears the homeowner left the door unlocked."

"She's dead?" So far, the only dead human body Bel had seen was the one he claimed as his own. In Domus, bodies went to the great beyond, leaving no evidence behind. "If someone swapped bodies, why is she still here?" Surely a traveler would want such a beautiful person.

Morrisey picked up a purse by the side of the bed, carefully rifled through the contents, and pulled out two pill bottles. "These are prescription cancer drugs. Travelers can heal many things, and we're resistant to most human illnesses, but we can't cure cancer."

"Let me see if I understand. The traveler came here, took over the resident, and left the dying body."

Morrisey nodded. "Do you smell that?"

Bel sniffed the air. Perfume, some kind of cleaner, and beneath it all, a pungent scent he'd noticed at Carnival cooking stalls. "Smell what?"

"Herbs, like oregano and maybe lemongrass. The place smells like a spice rack. That's a scent most travelers leave behind. That's partly how Jessa identified you, though you won't smell it on me and Farren."

"Why that particular scent? And why wouldn't I smell it on you and Farren?"

"I have no idea why travelers smell the way they do. Farren and I have been trained to hide our true nature. You'll learn too if you stay with us.""

Morrisey pulled the woman's wallet out of the purse and removed her driver's license. He studied the information, rummaged through her purse a bit longer, then put everything back and replaced her purse on the floor by the bed.

"Don't you risk misplacing something? That's not exactly where the purse was, is it?"

Morrisey gave a grim smile. "I know exactly where everything is. It's part of what made me a good detective. Humans will see this differently, just a dead body, and unless the traveler assumes the role of the human she took, we're looking at a missing person report."

"Aren't human police supposed to conduct the investigation?" At least they had on TV shows Bel had seen. He glanced at the woman again. Who had she been? Were her loved ones missing her?

"If it's a suspected traveler crime, FAET does the initial investigation. Humans wouldn't know if the perpetrator was still here, which puts them at risk." Morrisey poked at what appeared to be a nightgown on the floor with an ink pen, then strode to the closet, staring inside. "Our victim was asleep when the traveler attacked. The traveler changed clothes before leaving."

"How do you know?" If Bel hoped to help Morrisey one day, he needed to know.

"The scent of herbs is strong here, and the gown is ripped like the traveler was in a hurry and didn't take the time to remove it properly."

Bel approached the closet, sniffing, once more smelling oregano. "What can we do?"

"Hope we find the traveler first before they can jump again. Some of them are like damned fleas." Morrisey returned to the bed, pulled down his glove to expose his wrist, and touched his bare skin against the woman's. He closed his eyes and stood still a few moments before opening them again.

"Did you get any impressions like you talked about?" Bel asked.

Morrisey pointed to a photo on the dresser of two smiling women. "The one on the left called it in. We're looking for the one on the right." He held up his phone and took a picture, and then punched a few buttons. "There. The team will be looking for her."

They continued through the rest of the house, with Morrisey pausing to investigate seemingly random objects and performing his grid pattern search. "It appears the blonde walked right on in, entered the bedroom, and body-swapped the victim while she still slept. We'll start our search with anyone who may have known her, known the door was unlocked. It's possible our victim had been expecting someone and left the door open for them." He gave one last look and announced, "We're done here."

Morrisey stopped at the front door, addressing a middle-aged man in a suit. "Detective. The premises are safe for your guys. You'll get a copy of my report later today. Got any questions for me?"

"I'm sure I will have. Expect an email." With that, the suited man waved a few uniformed cops forward.

Morrisey continued down the sidewalk, Bel right behind him.

When they got into the car, Morrisey brought a notepad and pen out of his pocket and spent several minutes sketching.

He finally turned the image around so Bel could see a perfect rendition of the bedroom, every item exactly how Bel remembered, down to the position of the purse and nightgown. "The purse is by the bed, which further makes me believe that our victim must have been asleep. Carpool buddy didn't recognize the blonde, and she only saw her through the window. We'll have to find out if the blonde parked nearby, hired an Uber, or walked to get here."

While the crime scene involved a murder, it hadn't been gruesome like some on TV. Not like Bel expected. "Are cases always like this one?"

"Usually, there's blood. Most of our calls involve occisors. Vicious little beasts who kill for sport. Since they're inhabiting human bodies, they look just like everyone else."

Bel shuddered. He remembered occisors. They'd been vicious in Domus, too. Bred as pets and guardians until they turned on their creators. "Now what?"

"Now I buy you breakfast."

Bel sat at a table with Morrisey with a stack of pancakes and a cup of pretty decent coffee. It would be a perfect morning if Lio was there—and if Bel hadn't just seen a dead body.

"You don't get along with Atlanta, P.D.?" he asked.

Morrisey gave a bitter laugh, glancing at his phone screen before setting it on the tabletop. "To hear other folks tell it, I don't get along with anybody. Truth is, if dispatch gets a call that stands even the slightest possibility of being a traveler crime, we have to investigate first. They don't know what to look for, and waiting for us doesn't make them happy."

"Shouldn't you report what you found?"

Morrisey tapped his forehead. "I already did. I'll write up a report later, but Farren might as well have been with me, seeing what I saw."

Wow. Farren experienced the crime scene through his and Morrisey's bond. "Will Lio and I be able to communicate like that if we bond?"

"Possibly. Mine and Farren's is the only true bond I know of, so I don't have anything to compare to."

Bel ate his pancakes. Was it possible that if he bonded with Lio, he'd never have to worry about how Lio was feeling or his location? He'd already know. The thought gave him hope and made him all the more eager to bond.

Morrisey looked up sharply from his cell phone the moment they finished eating. "We got another call. We might wish we hadn't eaten."

The state park Bel found himself in wasn't what he'd typically think of as a park, with children cavorting over playground equipment.

He strode past a building labeled "Bathrooms" and down a narrow path through the trees—a hiking trail. A cluster of pines gave him a place to stand out of the way while others worked. One wore a brown shirt with a sewn-on patch that said "Park Ranger." The other wore the badge of a local sheriff.

A few other people gathered nearby, whispering and staring, packs on their backs and hiking poles in hand.

Two mangled bodies lay on the ground—or what remained of them, though Bel couldn't determine much about them from this distance.

Morrisey did an abbreviated version of his grid dance, as the crime scene covered a few yards instead of an entire house. He knelt by one body and made discreet skin-to-skin contact, making the gesture appear accidental. They couldn't have the humans knowing of Morrisey's special traveler skills. Morrisey shuddered and pulled away.

He spoke to the sheriff and ranger for a few moments before more people in FAET uniforms appeared with a stretcher. Bel tried to stay out of their way.

Morrisey motioned for him, and they returned to the car. " Occisors chose to feed on fear. Those poor hikers. I got impressions, so I'll know the bastards if I see them again, but there's nothing I can do here. The bodies are being taken to FAET for further examination."

"Do you get more cases like this or the one we left earlier?" Bel thought he could handle field work if he had to after the first case. This one gave him doubts.

"Even this clusterfuck is mild compared to some things I've seen. It's not a job for the squeamish, but it's necessary." Morrisey stared out the windshield. "If you join the team, you won't be in the field. You'll be in the office because Farren wants you to deal with the public and other agencies. The only time you'll see such scenes will be in pictures and videos. But in the name of honesty, this job is never pretty, and you need to know what the information in the reports means. So, first-hand knowledge."

Necessary. Like the duties Bel had performed in Domus. If he and Lio stayed with FAET, he'd have a place, a purpose, like he'd had with the council. He knew what was expected and did his duty to the best of his ability, which afforded a measure of safety.

However, that place might occasionally involve gruesome murders.