Chapter 25
As lunch neared, Frode was flagging. He'd dozed on the couch right after the reading, but it wasn't enough. Food and rest.
Nikolai needed to get some food into him.
"Overtime for lunch?" He looked from Frode to Isaac.
"I could eat." Isaac wrote something on his laptop and looked up at him. "Now?"
"Yeah, I think Frode needs it."
Frode grumbled but didn't argue. He didn't look too good, and guilt swept through Nikolai. He should have driven him home right after.
"Let's eat, then I'll drop Frode off at home." He didn't like the idea of Frode being alone, but he needed to rest, and Nikolai had a job to do.
They packed up and headed out the door. Normally, Nikolai would've walked, but Frode was swaying, so they took the car.
As they walked through the door, Nikolai spotted Hjalmar, Ashley, and her daughter, Ava, seated at one of the tables.
He nudged Frode's arm and nodded in their direction.
Frode's face lit up, and he headed toward them.
He was almost by their table before Hjalmar noticed him.
There were smiles all over, and Nikolai waved from where he was standing.
"Corner booth?" Isaac gestured at an empty table in the opposite direction.
"Sure."
They walked over, and Frode joined them after a little while, still smiling.
"Did you crash your brother's date?" Nikolai grinned at him.
"It's great, isn't it? They should be together."
Nikolai nodded. A lot of time had passed, and Ashley had a daughter now, but he'd always believed Hjalmar would end up with her.
They ordered food, and Frode ate, but he was yawning. It was clear he was exhausted and he didn't participate much in conversation. It was fine. Food and rest. Hopefully, when Nikolai got off work tonight, he'd feel better.
Once they'd finished eating, they paid, waved to Hjalmar again, and exited.
"I'll walk back." Isaac met Nikolai's gaze.
"See you there in a bit."
Frode was quiet in the car, and unease was growing stronger in Nikolai's gut. He didn't like leaving Frode. "You'll be okay, right?"
Frode huffed. "Yes, Daddy."
Nikolai glared at him. "You have your phone if something should...feel wrong?"
Frode cut the sarcasm and looked at him. "I'm fine."
"Yes, but if you feel unsafe in any way."
"He's not gonna come after me."
"How can you be so sure?"
Frode sighed. "For one, he doesn't know what we've figured out. And second, he has nothing to win by hurting me. What I say has no bearing in court. Even if my word held any sway, I don't know if we or you or the agents can prove him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt."
"We'll prove it, but without you, nothing points to him. He has the perfect explanation for his touch being at the crime scene." Had he hidden evidence? What if there were DNA or something on the rugs, but Saylor hadn't logged it?
"You already have my lists, whether I remove my statement or not, you have them."
"You think he'll blackmail you into changing what you've said?" Cold filled Nikolai's veins. What if he would? What could he use to blackmail Frode?
Frode shook his head. "No, this isn't a movie. I'm not important. My recounting of who's touched an item will never put anyone in prison. It's no more than a hint for you to follow. I'm nothing."
But Saylor was obsessed with psychics.
Frode yawned. "I wonder what's hiding in rug number two."
"You think there is something?"
He shrugged. "What would happen if Altman hasn't touched it?"
"How do you mean?"
"What if Saylor got overly excited and did it all without Altman?
Maybe it's why he doesn't want me to touch rug number two.
He might think all the others are clean, his presence explainable, and he can't know Dubose told us about Mallon arriving first at the fourth crime scene, plus unless Mallon says he touched the rug before Saylor, nothing's wrong with the line-up.
If we hadn't known, then there would have been nothing weird about it.
If Elmore hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have noticed.
I wasn't paying attention when Dubose and Hjalmar talked.
I wouldn't have pinged it as something out of the ordinary.
But what if rug number two doesn't have Altman's touch? "
"You think it's what he's hiding?"
Frode rubbed his forehead and winced. Nikolai winced in sympathy. Another headache.
"I don't know. I'm only speculating."
"Maybe it's the worst rug, as he's told us, and he doesn't want your brain to fry." Saylor liked Frode.
Frode gave him a weak smile. "Maybe."
They made it to Frode's house, and Nikolai walked with him inside. "Couch or bed?"
Frode toed off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and squinted at him. "Huh?"
"Do you want to rest on the couch, or should I tuck you into bed?" He looked around at what he could see of the house from the hallway. It looked undisturbed.
"Ugh. Bed would be nice, but I think I'll nap on the couch."
Nikolai nodded and followed him into the TV room. The house was empty. He peeked into the bedroom to be sure, but it had an empty feeling to it.
"Nico." Frode's voice was a little slurred. He'd stretched out on the couch and looked half asleep already. His phone, keys, wallet, and a box of raisins were on the coffee table.
Nikolai smiled at him. "Yes, honey?"
Frode huffed. "I'm fine. Go back and hand over the case."
"Do you have a spare key?"
Narrowed eyes met his. "Are you trying to move in with me?"
Nikolai chuckled. "Maybe, but most of all I want to lock the door behind me since I suspect you won't get up to do it."
"Right you are." He took a deep breath. "Erm...I think there is one on one of the hooks on the coat rack. The one with a Sun-Maid key ring."
Nikolai almost laughed when he saw the key ring. It looked like one of the small Sun-Maid boxes Frode carried everywhere. "How did you get hold of this?"
"Got it when I bought several packs at once."
"Of course." Nikolai grabbed it and winced. "My touch is on this now."
"It's fine. I never touch it without gloves." He sounded as if he was falling asleep. Nikolai walked into the TV room again, kissed his forehead, and sighed. He didn't want to go.
"I'll lock the door on my way out."
* * * *
Frode woke to a knock on the door. It was dark outside, which had him flying off the couch. He'd slept the entire afternoon away.
Another knock sounded, louder this time.
Nikolai would use the key to unlock the door, wouldn't he? And Hjalmar didn't knock like that, plus he'd most likely call if Frode didn't open after the first knock.
Only half awake, he stumbled toward the door and fumbled with the lock. He pushed the door open and stared at...Saylor. Blinking to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing, he then narrowed his eyes. "Saylor? Is everything all right?" Fuck, Nikolai would kill him.
Saylor studied him but didn't speak for several long seconds, then he smiled. "Are you going to invite me in?"
"No."
Saylor's eyes hardened, and a shiver skidded down Frode's spine. He should've gotten a dog. A big, growly dog. He didn't think Captain Scratch would come to the rescue.
"No?"
"No. I don't invite anyone into my home. It's my sanctuary, the only place I remove my gloves." He closed the door behind him, locking them both out, to make it clear he wasn't about to change his mind.
Saylor's gaze dropped to his gloved hands. "But not today."
"I fell asleep with them on."
"Hmm." He took a step forward, crowding Frode. "Then you're fine, right?"
Frode stood his ground. "Back off. I'm willing to go to a coffee shop or something if you want to talk, but I'm not going to invite you inside." He did not want to go anywhere. Where was his phone? His pocket was empty. Nikolai would be so angry with him for being this careless.
"What is there to say?"
Frode was confused, and it must've shown because Saylor laughed. It sounded false, or maybe more unhinged than false. "You don't know?"
He believed he did, but he couldn't be sure. "Know what?" Would he tell him? Would he confess? He should've recorded this conversation, but his phone hadn't magically appeared in his hand.
What time was it? Maybe Nikolai would come soon. He was almost surprised he hadn't come yet or at least called. Maybe he had. It wouldn't be the first time he'd slept through his phone ringing, especially not on a day he'd done a reading.
"Nesterova and Elmore handed the investigation over."
Frode frowned. "Which investigation?" He could play dumb, right?
"The rugs."
"Oh."
"Oh? Do you think I'm stupid?"
"Not at all, but I know nothing about their investigations. I never do. I touch things and tell the investigators who have touched the items. It's all. I'm not a cop."
"I know." The anger in his voice made Frode want to take a step back, but there was no room for retreating. He was stuck between Saylor and the door.
This wasn't the Saylor he'd had lunch with. The harshness hadn't been there before.
"Okay, so what do you want me to say? I can't tell you anything about what they're working on."
Saylor pushed a hand into his pocket and retrieved a scalpel.
Fuck.
Frode stared at it. "Eh...Saylor."
"Jaxon. I've heard you call Nesterova by his given name, so why not me? All I wanted was your attention, but you don't see me."
"I see you. I've seen you for years. With almost every item I've touched for the police, I've seen you. I know you work hard. I know you want to do the right thing." He hoped. Fuck, his tongue was thick and clumsy in his mouth.
Saylor snorted. "I'm sick of doing the right thing."
Right. "Eh...what time is it?" Where was Nikolai?
If Saylor was aware they'd transferred the case, it must have happened some time ago.
Didn't it mean he was done for the day? Or maybe he had a new case now.
Frode understood being a detective meant you wouldn't work nine to five, but shouldn't he have finished for the day?
Maybe he'd gone home to his place. It was possible he didn't want to disturb Frode when he believed he was resting.