Chapter Two
That first night, Gunnar went back to his own place to check on the movers.
He wasn’t especially attached to his apartment but it had been home for four years.
By the time he got there, the team was almost done.
They’d packed his clothes and all the obviously personal items. He added a few throws and pillows he thought Bryn might like and made sure his French press went into a crate.
Most stuff was staying for the new tenant as the Marlborough Street apartment was fully equipped.
Gunnar had never been a pack rat. Accumulating stuff didn’t interest him so his belongings were loaded and driven away in less than three hours.
To avoid putting linens on the stripped beds, he camped out on the couch in a sleeping bag.
He slept well and woke early, more excited than he had expected to be to begin his new job.
The back gate at Marlborough Street was locked this time and Gunnar had to use a code to get in. Another keypad got him through the rear entrance, a camera tracking his movements as he entered. Warden emerged from his office as Gunnar passed.
“I’ll walk with you to the conference room. Your belongings were safely delivered last night and have been taken up to the apartment. You’ll be staying here from tonight?”
“That bridge is burned. If I want clean underwear tomorrow, I need in those boxes.”
“Quite. At least you’ll have a short commute.”
“Does anyone else live on site here?”
“Other than you and Bryn, not permanently, but we have some rooms for staff to use as needed. As there’s a study in your apartment, I’ve not set up another office for you down here. Your computer has access to everything you’ll need. If the space isn’t adequate, let me know.”
“Sure. So what do we have this morning?”
“We’re keeping it close for your first case. It’s the local FBI office rather than Boston PD. Nasty serial killer case. You’ve heard of the Forest Ripper?”
“The press sure do love to dream up dramatic names, don’t they? Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Can’t imagine there’s a cop who hasn’t. Psycho takes young boys off the street in Boston, dumps their bodies weeks later, always in forest areas around the city.”
“That’s the one. I’ll let the team brief you. It’ll be a rough start for Bryn but that’s the job.”
When Gunnar walked into the conference room his eyes were immediately drawn to Bryn, who was lounging in a chair at the far end of the table.
Gunnar held back a grin. Bryn was definitely making some kind of statement with his outfit.
He had on skintight ripped black jeans, biker boots and a faded band T-shirt.
His sunglasses were in place but he wasn’t wearing his gloves.
Gunnar could see them tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
The other occupants of the room were much more traditionally dressed in dark suits.
Warden assumed the seat at the head of the table and everyone followed his lead. Gunnar took the seat to one side of Bryn.
“Morning, partner.”
Bryn scowled. “Well, aren’t you the chirpy one this morning. I fell over a box of your crap before I’d had coffee.”
“Should have looked where you were going then, shouldn’t you?” Gunnar could sense Bryn’s glare through his shades.
“There was also no sugar-coated cereal. Granola. They expect me to eat granola.”
“Lodge a complaint with human resources.”
“Fuck you.”
“Shall we get started, gentlemen?” There was a warning in Warden’s tone. Even the FBI agents sat up straighter. “Detective Ericson, Bryn, I’d like to introduce Special Agents Bell and Gomez. They will conduct this briefing.”
One of the agents handed around slim manila folders.
“This case spans several years so the information you have is a brief summary. There’s also a picture of the man we believe to be the ‘Forest Ripper’, Dr. Everard Templeton.
He’s a long-term Boston resident and eminent surgeon at Boston General. His specialism is pediatric surgery.”
Gunnar glanced up from the paperwork. “So why do you need us if you already have him?”
“The evidence is all circumstantial. He’s a very clever man. Having an augur to call on is an absolute godsend. We don’t want this guy back on the streets.”
“Bryn is a certified level five augur, gentlemen. His evidence is admissible in all court proceedings. If this is your killer, he’ll be able to confirm it.” Warden pushed his chair back. “I’ll leave you to carry on. Detective Ericson is in charge.”
After Warden had left the room, Gunnar poured himself a glass of water. “I assume you do have Dr. Templeton in custody?”
Agent Bell nodded. “We only have another twelve hours before we either have to charge him or let him go. He’s toying with us and enjoying it. You guys are a trump card I can’t wait to play. Should wipe the sneer off his smug, superior face.”
“No love lost then.”
“He’s been arrested twice before. His lawyer was a snake oil salesman in a previous life. Slippery as fuck.”
“Bryn has to have skin-to-skin physical contact with your man. Is that likely to be risky?”
Agent Bell tapped his pen on the table. “No. He’s icy calm, not hot tempered. I imagine he’ll find an augur an intellectual curiosity.”
“I’m not a fucking science experiment.” Bryn put his shades on the table and both agents sucked in their breath.
“Woah.”
“Yeah. You want me to show him these or not?”
“It might unsettle him,” Gunnar said.
“We aim to try truth reading his answers to questions first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll ask you to describe his memories.”
“According to Bryn, truth reading can be misleading,” Gunnar said. “If the subject believes he’s telling the truth, that’s how it’ll read. Right, Bryn?”
“Yeah. It’s problematic with people with some psychological conditions. Split personalities, delusional schizophrenia…” Bryn went quiet as if recalling something unpleasant.
Gunnar flicked through the file again. “I guess we just get on with it. Bear in mind that Bryn isn’t a psychic. This isn’t hokum, it’s a gene ability. He can’t read this guy’s mind and tell you what he’s thinking in real time, it’s about memory and intent.”
“Noted.” Agent Bell loosened his tie.
“And if Bryn wants out, that’s what happens,” Gunnar said, daring either of the agents to dispute it.
“Uh, Gunnar…” Bryn pulled on his sleeve. “You’re getting wolfy.”
Gunnar realized the rumbling growl he could hear was coming from his throat. Hmm. That’s new.
Agent Gomez chuckled. “I heard wolves could be protective. We could do with a few more on our team. We have a bunch, but the cops steal too many of them.”
Gunnar grunted. “Give me the address.” Gomez sent it to Gunnar’s cell. “We’ll see you there.” He ignored the agent’s knowing smirk and marched from the room. I need some bike time to clear my head. This gig is playing games with my Zen. Bryn trailed after him. “They get you leathers and a helmet?”
“Yeah. Though apparently Warden was cursing a lot about how dangerous motorcycles are and that we should be using a nice, safe car with armored glass.”
“Escaping a pursuer is easier on the bike. We can use a car if you want though.” Gunnar gave himself a mental smack. Should have asked what he wanted first. Idiot.
“Hell no! I’ve seen your Harley, it’s gorgeous.”
“You ever been on a bike before?”
“No. I have a driver’s license—I did driver’s ed. in high school—but I haven’t driven anything since, well, you know.”
“Yeah. Right.” Gunnar was beginning to realize that Bryn had been little more than a prisoner for the last three years. No wonder he has a massive chip on his shoulder.
Their gear was in a closet near the back entrance. Gunnar slung on his jacket and Bryn scrambled into a full body racing suit, which fitted over his clothes.
“Holy fuck!” Gunnar stroked the supple black leather. “This is high end. Has to be three thousand dollars’ worth. Armored and…there’s a built-in air bag. Of course there is.”
“When you’ve finished drooling, you think you could help me with the helmet?”
“Sorry.” Gunnar realized that Bryn’s arm was in the sleeve he’d been fondling.
“I guess you don’t need so much protection,” Bryn said. “Lupines heal fast, don’t they?”
“I don’t mind wolf. Lupine is too scientific.
We get damaged just as much as anyone else but yeah, we heal faster.
Doesn’t mean I ride like an idiot. I’ll take care of you…
Warden will have my balls if I don’t, and I’m quite fond of them.
” Gunnar caught Bryn’s blush before he rammed his helmet on his head.
He helped him buckle it properly. “There, now all you have to do is hold on. Lean with my body. Okay?”
“Let’s go.” Bryn pulled on his gloves.
Riding the Harley, even in city traffic, always gave Gunnar a thrill.
The experience improved tenfold with Bryn’s arms wrapped around him.
The FBI’s Boston office in Chelsea was less than six miles away.
On a good day the journey by car took fifteen minutes.
On the bike, despite sections of gridlocked traffic, Gunnar did it in twelve.
When Bryn took off his helmet, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes even brighter than usual. He covered them with his shades. “That was fantastic! When can we do it again?”
Gunnar chuckled. “We have to get home, so that would be later today. Sadly we have work to do first.”
“That sucks.” Bryn unzipped his suit then struggled out of it. Gunnar stowed it and his jacket in the bike’s panniers.
“Can’t imagine anyone is going to steal it here.” Gunnar noted that Bryn’s posture had gone from relaxed to stiff at the mention of work. “You okay?”
“Yeah. No. I don’t know. I haven’t done this for a real case before. There’s a lot riding on it and…it’s not fun seeing this stuff.”
“No, I don’t imagine it is. If you need something else in your head when we’re in there, you grab me. Okay?”
“You mean it?”
“Partners, remember.”
“Okay. Stay within reach.”
Gunnar led the way inside to where Agent Bell was waiting for them.
“You made good time. We left before you and only just got here.”
“Get yourself a motorcycle, Agent. Though I know you guys are fond of the whole blacked-out windows thing.”
“A hurtful stereotype, Detective. My personal transportation is a Prius.” Bell sighed. “At my wife’s insistence, I should make clear.”
Bryn snorted with laughter and Gunnar grinned. They all needed a bit of a tension breaker.
“We’re in the observation suite. Dr. Templeton is already situated. He’s in cuffs, Bryn, which are anchored to the table. The only other person in the room will be his attorney, who has fewer morals than a timber rattler, and myself.”
“I’ll be there too,” Gunnar said. “That’s not negotiable.”
“Of course. I should have made that clear. There will be other observers behind the glass. You’ve attracted a lot of interest.”
“This isn’t a freak show,” Gunnar snapped.
“Not at all. Agents are lining up cases they think an augur can help them with. If this case can be closed because of Bryn, there’ll be a line out the door.”
“Can you point me at the bathroom?” Bryn asked.
Agent Bell pointed out the nearest facilities, just down the corridor. Bryn made a beeline for the door.
“Uh, excuse me a moment,” Gunnar said. “I’m gonna go check on him.” He followed Bryn. In the bathroom, puking sounds were coming from one of the stalls.
“Bryn, you need me to hold your hair back?”
There was a groan then the sound of flushing. Bryn emerged from the stall, pale, shoving his glasses back on his nose. He went to the sink and rinsed his mouth.
“Don’t suppose you have a mint?”
“As it happens…” Gunnar extracted the remnants of a tube of Wint O Green Lifesavers from his pocket. “Take them. The mint will help settle your stomach.”
Bryn shoved two candies in his mouth. “Don’t tell Warden about this.”
“About what? Your sensitive, sweet disposition?”
“Funny. Let’s get this over with.”
Gunnar had the good sense not to ask Bryn if he was sure. It wasn’t like he had much choice.