Chapter 21
Frode hurried up the stairs before Nikolai could catch up with him and walked directly toward Medlin's office. He wanted to get there before Nikolai could argue against him touching a rug.
He knocked on the open door but didn't wait for a reply before he entered.
Medlin looked up from the papers on his desk, surprise taking over his face. "Frode."
"Good morning, sir."
He heard Elmore calling for Nikolai and knew he only had seconds. "I want to do a reading on rug number four."
Medlin's gaze slid over his face. "Why?"
"I need to see the pattern."
"Of the rug? Is it significant?"
Nikolai stomped into the office and glared at Frode. He ignored him.
"Not of the rug, the pattern of how it's been touched. The order."
Medlin nodded slowly, but it was clear he was confused.
"It's an unnecessary risk." Nikolai crossed his arms over his chest. "We know who the murderer is. There is no use in risking Frode's health to see him again." Then he looked at Frode. "We haven't had time to see if anyone has found something."
"I need to see the order." Frode wasn't sure why, but he needed to see it. Something was niggling at the back of his mind. Alarm bells or red flags or whatever. Normally, he didn't care. He gave the cops a face and walked away, but there was something...
Both Nikolai and Medlin were looking at him, and maybe he'd sounded a bit more desperate than he'd meant to.
"What's going on?" Medlin's voice was careful and yet demanding.
Frode blew out a breath. "I don't know. I have this--" He moved his hand in a circle in front of his chest. "--feeling. It's clawing."
Confusion. "And it has something to do with your skill?" Medlin glanced at Nikolai but kept most of his focus on Frode.
Frode pursed his lips. "I don't know. I feel like I've missed something."
"A person?"
Scrunching his nose didn't help matters, but he did it anyway. "Not a person. I remember all faces; they'll never go away, but I need to see the order."
"You've forgotten the order?"
"No."
Medlin sighed, then he waved his hand. "Have at it."
Nikolai protested, but Frode turned and walked out of the office. Elmore stood outside, his normal grin absent. "What's going on?"
"I want to do a reading of rug number four. Medlin said I could."
Elmore nodded. "Okay. Why?"
Good question. Frode didn't know why, but he had to. He patted his jacket pocket and pulled out a box of raisins. Without looking at Elmore, he shook out a couple into the palm of his gloved hand and popped them into his mouth. The sweet taste settled him.
"I don't know why. I have to."
Elmore nodded. "Let me call down to evidence and have them...Eh...I'm not sure it's been delivered here yet. I think the forensic team is still working on it. They haven't sent us their report yet."
Nikolai cursed behind him, and Frode looked at him over his shoulder. The sense of unease intensified, but he was being silly. Saylor had the rug, but there was nothing strange about it, right? Of course, the forensic team would have it if they were working on it.
"Can I touch it there?" He didn't want to. He wanted to do it here. "They must have a room we can borrow there, right?"
Nikolai stepped closer. "Frode, can't this wait a day or two? Saylor said he'd have the report ready later today. Tomorrow we'll most likely be able to get the evidence to this building."
He wanted to say yes. He didn't want to go back to the forensic department, but the sooner he could touch the fucking rug, the sooner he could get rid of this sense of wrongness.
"No, let's go."
"Frode." Nikolai grabbed his arm, not hard, and he could most likely yank away, but he didn't. Nikolai dropped his voice. "Honey, why is it so important to do this now? I'd feel better if we did it here where we can look after you."
"You can look after me there. It's a police department. It's no more dangerous than being here." Right? Fuck, Frode didn't know. "Maybe Hjalmar can come?"
He was pathetic, needing his big brother.
Nikolai nodded, let go of Frode's arm, and grabbed his phone. He took a few steps away and held it to his ear.
"Did something happen?" Elmore's voice forced Frode to look away at the same time as Nikolai started talking to Hjalmar.
"No, it's only a feeling."
"A feeling of what?"
Frode nodded. "Something not being what it appears to be. I know the man, Altman, was there. I know he touched the rug after the victim but before the forensic team, but did he kill her?"
Elmore's eyebrows drew together. "Who else would have done it? They didn't slit their own throats. We haven't managed to retrieve a murder weapon. It wasn't suicide."
"I don't think he works alone."
Elmore widened his eyes, and Nikolai turned around to stare at him with the phone still pressed to his ear. The moment the words had taken form, something settled in Frode. It didn't mean he was right. His ability couldn't predict things, but it felt right. "I think there is an accomplice."
Silence.
Elmore glanced toward the room where they had all the photos and timelines from the four cases. "You think there are two suspects?"
Frode nodded.
"But the second person didn't touch the rug?"
"I'm not sure. I need to see the order of touches."
Something hard crept into Nikolai's eyes. "You think the mechanic is in on it?"
"Not sure. I need to touch another rug."
"Fuck." Nikolai ran a hand through his hair. "Hjalmar will come here, and we'll go there together." Nikolai glanced at Elmore. "Can you call to warn Saylor? He doesn't like me."
Elmore beamed and did his normal puppy bounce as he moved over to his desk.
"How often do these hunches of yours pan out?"
Frode shook his head. He had nothing to support his theory other than a feeling.
* * * *
Nikolai didn't like this, and he could tell Hjalmar didn't like it either. Frode was a ball of nerves, jittery and withdrawn. Isaac walked silently by Frode's side while Hjalmar and Nikolai took the lead.
He was starting to resent the forensic department.
They did a good job, and they were vital in all their investigations, but they were short on smiles and welcoming words.
"Bakke." Dubose stuck her head out of one of the rooms and smiled warmly.
Okay, so maybe it was Nikolai they didn't have any smiles for. It didn't matter. He was here to do a job, not make friends.
"Maeve, how are you today?" Hjalmar stopped and gave her a panty-dropping grin. Fucker.
"Better now." She winked, but Nikolai could tell she didn't mean it. "You here for a rug?"
"How did you know?" Hjalmar was still smiling.
"Good news travel fast. Jaxon is bringing it to one of the rooms." She gestured farther down the corridor. Who the fuck was Jaxon? Nikolai sent a questioning look at Elmore who mouthed Saylor back at him. Nikolai sighed. Of course it would be Saylor who brought the rug.
"What do you remember from when you arrived at the crime scene?"
Nikolai focused on Hjalmar. It wasn't his investigation. He shouldn't be asking questions, but Nikolai kept his mouth shut.
Dubose made a face. "It was a messy one. It always is when they've been left to decompose for as long as this one had."
"Yeah. Did you enter first?"
"Two officers were there. Mallon was the first to arrive from this department. He was nearby, so he arrived before the rest of the team."
Before anyone could say anything else, Saylor walked into the corridor from one of the rooms farther down. "I have it set up in here." His voice was loud, and his eyes were glinting with excitement.
Frode took a step forward. Nikolai was about to touch him, when he reached for Hjalmar. "You and me?"
Hjalmar nodded. "Of course." He then turned to everyone else. "Right, people. Frode and I will go in there so he can do his thing in peace--"
"No." There was desperation in Saylor's tone, and everyone stared at him. He straightened his back and cleared his throat. "This is our department. One of us should be there."
Frode sent Nikolai a look he couldn't interpret, then he looked at Dubose. "Fine. Dubose, do you have a couple of minutes?"
She looked surprised, then she nodded.
"Maeve is busy--"
"No, it's fine. It's time for my break anyway."
Saylor opened his mouth to protest, but Nikolai beat him to it.
"Great." He spoke loudly and clapped his hands together and took a step closer to Frode.
He was close enough to feel the heat of him, but never looked away from Saylor, who was seething.
"Get the show on the road. Saylor, can Elmore and I have a word in your office? "
Frode reached out and squeezed Nikolai's hand. He didn't think anyone saw, but he wouldn't have cared if anyone did. He leaned closer, so his mouth was near Frode's ear. "You have everything you need?"
He nodded.
"Nothing I can do?"
"Privacy. I hate having people watch me puke."
Nikolai closed his eyes for a second. He didn't like this. When he opened his eyes, Hjalmar was watching him.
"How likely is it we'll need to rush to the hospital after this?"
Hjalmar's jaw tensed. "There is a bigger risk than I'm okay with."
"It's my choice." Frode's voice was low but sharp.
Nikolai squeezed his shoulder and stepped away. He wouldn't win this, and Frode was right. It was his choice. Nikolai didn't approve, but it didn't mean he had any right to tell Frode what he could and could not touch.
He stepped closer to Isaac and spoke in a whisper. "Help me keep Saylor away while Frode does his thing. He doesn't want him there, but Saylor wants to be."
Isaac's eyes widened, then he plastered on a smile. "Saylor." He walked ahead. "Can I talk to you about trace evidence?"
Saylor's face was flushed, and his gaze was bouncing between Frode, the door to the room where Nikolai assumed the rug was, and Isaac. "No. I need to--"
"It won't take long." Isaac ushered Saylor toward his office. Nikolai followed to make sure Saylor didn't spin around and approach Frode.
"Get a move on." He spoke to Hjalmar, who looked confused about the entire exchange but nodded and walked toward the designated room together with Frode and Dubose.
"How do you test DNA found in rugs?" Isaac did the whole confused-head-tilted-to-the-side thing as he watched Saylor.
Nikolai stopped in the doorway, making sure no one would leave the room before he allowed it.
Saylor glared at him, but Nikolai pretended not to see. They'd have to work together in the future, so he didn't want to antagonize him more than necessary.
* * * *