Chapter 20
Frode was annoyed as they walked through the door to the forensics department. Nikolai had refused to leave his side, so it had taken ages to get ready since Nikolai had waited while he got showered and dressed, and then he had to do the same in Nikolai's sad excuse for an apartment.
Frode got depressed simply from looking at it.
Nikolai had lived there for months, but there were moving boxes lining the living room; the walls were bare, and it looked more like a storage room than a home.
Nikolai was silent as they walked down the corridor.
Dubose poked her head out of a room and looked at them with wide eyes. "Gentlemen, what are you doing here?"
Nikolai stopped and turned to her. "We'd like a word with Saylor."
"And the phones were broken?"
Frode hid a smile. The forensics team sure didn't like visitors.
A door opened farther down the corridor, and Saylor stepped out of the room. He looked at them, frowned, then smoothed his face into a neutral expression.
"Nesterova?"
"Saylor, could we have a word?" Nikolai's gruff tone wouldn't win him any favors, but Frode didn't care. As long as they could ask Saylor about the rugs. If Nikolai got them thrown out before he could ask, he'd be pissed.
"What's so important a call wasn't enough?"
Frode grinned. Saylor softened some when he looked at him. "Frode."
"Morning. Can we talk rugs?"
Nikolai made a sound, but Frode ignored him and took a step closer to Saylor.
"Of course. What do you want to know?" He gestured toward one of the doors farther down the corridor, and Frode fell into step next to him. Nikolai walked behind them, and Frode could feel the annoyance emanating from him.
"Which of them would you say is in best condition?"
Saylor pursed his lips as he guided Frode into an office. He rounded the desk and took a seat. There was one chair across from him, so Frode sat, leaving Nikolai to stand.
"Best condition as in the least worn?"
"Yes. If you were to guess, which one has been touched the least?"
Saylor drummed a finger against the desktop. "It's hard to tell. I'd say case two, Leah Redding, has the rug that's been walked on the most. Do steps register for you?"
Frode nodded.
"Thought so. Then you might want to stay away from rug two. Case four, Morgan Beham, which chronologically is victim number three, has the newest-looking rug underneath the gore, but I can't say anything about how many have touched it."
Frode understood. "So if you were to guess, you'd say case number four?" Morgan. His neighbor. He wasn't sure he wanted to touch it. On the other hand, if Altman had been near his house, he wanted to know.
Saylor gave one curt nod. "No guarantees, though."
Frode forced a smile. "There never are."
"You're gonna touch it?" Saylor's expression didn't change much, but his tone got a little breathy, and his eyes glowed. It had unease curling in Frode's gut. Was he one of those who got a hard-on when around psychics? It sure looked like arousal from where Frode was seated. Fuck.
Saylor came across as a calm, controlled, intelligent man, but the way he was looking at Frode right this second told another story. It made his skin itch.
Frode dared to glance at Nikolai. He was focused on Saylor, a small wrinkle between his brows, then his gaze jumped to Frode. They only looked at each other for a fraction of a second, but Frode was sure Nikolai could read his unease, because something hardened in his eyes.
"We're not sure it's worth risking Frode, but we wanted to know which rug to go with should we get stuck in the investigation."
Saylor shifted his focus to Nikolai, and the glow dimmed. It was clear he didn't like Nikolai. Frode couldn't say he blamed him, but he wasn't sure it was good to have this much animosity between the homicide and the forensic team. Maybe they should've brought Elmore. Most people liked him.
"You knew who Frode was before this case, right?"
Saylor looked surprised. "Yeah, sure."
"How?"
Saylor's gaze jumped between them, but Frode kept his expression blank. This was Nikolai's rodeo. He'd gotten the information he came here for, so he was ready to leave when Nikolai was.
"Eh...it's common knowledge he works with the police."
"Sure, but how did you know what he looked like? He's not on any social media platforms, he doesn't have a website for his business, he's invisible, but you recognized him the moment you saw him."
"I know Bakke, Hjalmar I mean, and they're brothers, so--"
"But they don't look alike. I can see similarities, but I've known them for a long time. I doubt someone who happens to see Frode walking down the street would look at him and think he has to be Hjalmar's brother, even if they know Hjalmar."
Frode was glad he'd said the street and not in the grocery store.
"Eh...What has this got to do with the investigation?"
"We suspect the killer might know about Frode, and we're trying to figure out how."
Saylor stiffened. "What has it got to do with me?"
"Nothing. We were only curious how you came to know what Frode looked like before you met. Is there a website somewhere? I can put my guys on fine-combing the internet for photos of him, but since we're here, I figured it was a quick and easy way to get the information."
Saylor stared at him for several seconds, then he glanced at Frode and sighed. "I was curious, so I searched for him online."
Fuck. Frode leaned forward. "And there are photos of me? I've never posted any photos, and I know Hjalmar hasn't."
Saylor squirmed, then he sighed. "There are sites."
Frode didn't breathe. "What kind of sites?"
"Sites, online groups, where people post photos of psychics. There are some of you leaving the police station. Some of you and Hjalmar."
Nikolai cursed. "So it's possible the killer knows who Frode is, what he looks like, where he lives?"
Saylor nodded. "Yeah, but I doubt Frode is in danger. I mean, I'm no profiler, but this guy kills women living alone, not psychics."
"But if he knows Frode can place him at the crime scene, then he might want him out of the way."
Leaning back in his chair, Saylor looked between them. "I guess, but isn't it more likely he's done this to gain the attention of a psychic instead of wanting him out of the way?"
Eh...no. Frode was about to voice his disbelief when Nikolai nodded. "Maybe."
"No. Come on, Nico. It doesn't make any sense. I've touched one rug. One. I never get involved in cases. It's not my attention he's getting, it's yours."
Saylor was studying him. "But you're involved in this case. You've come to see me twice, and you've never been here before. Your neighbor is one of the victims."
Ice crystals formed in his veins. "I never spoke to her."
And had someone told Saylor where Frode lived? Maybe he'd learned his address when he'd worked the crime scene.
"Still. He's close to you."
"No, he's not." Frode got to his feet, wanting to leave. "This has nothing to do with me."
Nikolai watched him without saying a word, then he looked at Saylor. "Anything new?"
"It'll all be in the report." The snippy tone would've amused Frode if he hadn't had a clawing need to leave. He didn't want to be here anymore.
"Great." Nikolai took a step toward the door. "We'll be in touch."
Saylor made a humming sound. "We'll send over the preliminary report later today."
"Thanks." Nikolai nodded at him and stepped out of the room.
* * * *
Nikolai watched Frode as he more or less stormed out of the forensic department. He followed at a slower pace, spinning his car key on his finger as he went. He didn't like Saylor. Fucker was drooling all over Frode, and he wasn't subtle about it.
Frode was standing by the car, gazing out into the distance, and Nikolai didn't know what to say to calm him.
He didn't want to diminish the importance of Frode's photo being posted in online groups run by psychic enthusiasts.
Fanboys and girls were weird, and it might explain why Altman appeared to recognize him in the grocery store, but maybe it wasn't too bad.
It was bad.
"Let's go." Frode smacked his gloved palm against the car roof, looking ready to snarl. Hot.
A memory of Frode rocking against him, purring against his skin, made him tingle.
"I'm coming." But he didn't speed up his steps.
Frode glared, and Nikolai would've grinned if he hadn't believed this anger was to conceal fear.
He unlocked the car, and Frode slid into the passenger seat before Nikolai had opened his door. Once he was belted in, he turned to Frode. "What are you thinking?"
"Something isn't right."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Killing people to get my attention doesn't add up. I've worked with the police for years, and I never get involved. My name is never mentioned in any official capacity, and nothing of what I see is brought up in court or rarely brought up at least. My readings are not evidence."
Nikolai held his breath.
"So if it's someone with a psychic kink, and they'd know I sometimes consult the cops, there is no way this is for my benefit."
Psychic kink? Was there such a thing?
He thought back to how Saylor's eyes had heated when they talked about Frode touching a rug. Fuck, did he get off on it?
Nikolai wasn't sure he agreed with Frode.
If there were some crazy person who got off on knowing a psychic was looking at his handiwork, they wouldn't care if Frode showed up in court or not, and a series of murders was one way to make sure the police called him in.
He wouldn't tell Frode so right this minute, though.
He was afraid, and Nicolai didn't blame him.
"A psychic kink, is it ah...a real thing?"
Frode shrugged. "Maybe it's a fetish. What is the difference? Kink something you do, like spanking, and fetish a thing you get off on? Feet or cheerleader outfits." He pursed his lips. "I'm pretty vanilla and haven't taken a dive into the..." He waved a hand.
Nikolai stared. "Cheerleader outfits?"
"Obviously, I'm not the same as a cheerleader outfit. Did you feel extra kinky when in bed with me?" He waggled his eyebrows, and Nikolai allowed him to lighten the mood.
"No, I was terrified of doing something wrong."
He snorted, and Nikolai was pretty sure he had a Frode kink, not a psychic kink.
He got the car started and set off toward the station. "But it's a real thing? People getting hot and bothered because you're a psychic?"
Frode sighed. "I do my best not to tell people, but yes, there are a few who get off on it. I suspect Saylor is one of them."
Nikolai tightened his hold on the steering wheel. "How come?" He was proud of his calm tone.
"The way he looks at me."
Nikolai didn't want to talk about how Saylor looked at Frode, but they were adults, and simply because Frode had allowed him into his bed once didn't mean Nikolai had any say in how he lived his life or who he saw. Though, he might kill Saylor if he made a move. "How does he look at you?"
"He's not seeing me at all."
Nikolai's eyes widened. It was not what he'd expected. "How do you mean?"
"Did you watch him when we discussed the rugs?"
"Yeah." He dragged it out because he had been watching, but all he'd seen was how Saylor had been eye-fucking Frode. He'd wanted to intervene but had allowed Frode to ask his questions. Or he had until Frode had given him a pleading look.
The shift had been quick. Frode talking about the rugs with interest, and the next second, he'd silently begged Nikolai to butt in.
"I know something made you uneasy."
"When he asked if I was gonna touch it." Frode looked out the side window, his face turned away.
"What about it?"
"I'm pretty sure he was about to come in his seat."
Nikolai huffed, then swallowed, then frowned. "It was a bit weird."
"His tone got breathy, his eyes...He was aroused."
Nikolai nodded. "Okay."
Frode looked at him, his face blank. "And you don't find it a bit unhinged to think a serial killer is murdering women to get my attention?"
A shiver went through Nikolai. "Maybe it's his kink talking."
"Mmm. Maybe if Saylor wanted my attention, he'd start killing people."
Nikolai stared at him. "You don't think--"
"No. I meant it's such a weird statement, I don't think any sane person would come to that conclusion.
If they knew anything about me, they'd know I don't work cases, and doing this wouldn't bring me closer to them, but since Saylor appears to have a thing for psychics, he might see it differently. "
And he'd know to avoid touching the rug if he didn't want Frode to see him there. He had touched the rugs. Several times.
Nikolai parked outside the precinct but didn't move to get out of the car. "How often do you meet people who are...enamored by psychics?"
Frode gave him a quick grin. "More often than I'd like to."
"Really?"
Frode scrunched his nose. "It happens, but most often they're like fan boys and girls. Excited. The ones hating psychics are more common."
Right, because of course some people hated Frode simply because of what he was too.
Frode blew out a long breath and shook his head. "I don't know why Saylor freaked me out today. I mean, he's a nice guy, right? Hjalmar encouraged me to date him, which means he's been vetted and approved."
Nikolai wanted to snarl. He'd have to have a talk with Hjalmar.
"He solves crimes for a living."
"I solve crimes for a living; he's helping me to do it."
Frode snickered. "Still, he's a good guy, right? So what if he gets a little excited about the prospect of psychics touching things. It's not a crime. We all like different things, and if he gets off on psychic powers, it's all fine."
"Is it?"
Frode raised an eyebrow. "Of course. You get off on pinning your partner to the door the moment he crosses it; he gets off on knowing the person he has in his bed can do things no normal person can."
"I would feel objectified."
A grin took over Frode's face, then he slowly slid his gaze down Nikolai's body. "Oh, honey, you are."
Nikolai huffed a laugh, unsure of how to respond.
He didn't have to. Frode pushed open his door and got out.
* * * *