CHAPTER TWELVE
Nate blew out a breath in the safety of the corridor, where no one could hear them. He and Laura were walking back through the precinct – but they’d come to a halt, realizing they had nowhere in mind to go. They hadn’t yet set up an office or desk space with the locals, and they hadn’t made a plan for what to do next.
“Well?” he said, turning to look at her. “What do you think, next? Morgue? I don’t know if we’ll learn anything new from the bodies, but it could be worth a shot, even just to get a feel for the killer.”
“No,” Laura said decisively. “I want to see the mannequins.”
There was a moment of confusion – what could the mannequins tell them beyond what they could already see in the photographs? – but then the penny dropped.
She’d told him, hadn’t she? She needed to touch something connected to the killer or the forthcoming events in order to get a vision. She needed something that was physically connected to the case. And these mannequins were clearly central.
Nate’s heart was thumping wildly, even though all they were doing was standing still in a corridor. It was stupid, but so far he hadn’t really had to be confronted with these visions of hers. Even when she’d used one to save his life, he hadn’t been there when she had the actual vision.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, his tongue feeling thick in his throat. Even if he was nervous – no, afraid – to really witness her psychic ability in action, he had to. This wasn’t like seeing her blank out for a second and then carry on. This would be watching her turn it on deliberately, trying to make it happen. And when she did, there would be no way for his rational mind to hold on any longer to the thought that maybe, just maybe, all of this was made up.
Seeing it happen in real time, from start to finish, and having it affect the outcome of a case – that was going to be hard to take.
All the same, he knew that if he was ever going to be as comfortable around her as he used to be, he was going to need it.
“Alright,” Laura nodded. A hundred things passed between them in a glance, as they always did. She knew what he was saying: that he wanted to see it happen. And he knew that she was accepting that. In many ways, he guessed it was going to be just as weird for her to let him in on the process as it would be for him to see it.
“I guess they’ll be in the evidence room,” Nate said. He had a feeling of wanting to take charge, to lead the way, so that at least he was in control of something. Underneath it all was a certain protectiveness, too. He’d always felt that, as the physically stronger of the two of them, it was his job to protect Laura from things that might try to harm her. Being law enforcement, unfortunately, getting put in the way of harm was sort of an occupational hazard. He couldn’t shield her from this. It was all inside her own head. The only thing he could really do would be to make sure there was nothing in her way.
“I’m pretty sure it will be down in the basement,” Laura said. He had been thinking the same. There were kind of blueprints for these types of buildings, and most cities stuck to them. There wasn’t a lot of variation, and once you’d been to as many different towns as they had – always seeing the same thing over and over – you began to get to a place where you could pretty safely make assumptions.
“Let’s go down, try and find it,” Nate suggested. “Probably easier than finding the Captain, anyhow.”
Laura nodded in agreement and they started to walk again, everything feeling suddenly more tentative than it had been before. It was like he sometimes forgot about everything that had happened, everything he’d learned about her – and then it would come crashing back, just as things were starting to feel normal between them again.
Did it say something about the pair of them that things only felt ‘normal’ when they lost themselves in investigating a case?
He didn’t have enough time to riddle that out in his head before they were getting off the elevator and walking to a door marked ‘EVIDENCE’ in block capitals printed on the glass, mentally high-fiving themselves for the victory.
“Alright,” Laura said, taking a breath. She squared her shoulders and walked ahead, and Nate remembered her saying something about headaches. About the constant headaches she always suffered, caused by the visions. He tried to imagine willfully putting himself through pain again and again just to solve a case. Would he have been mentally strong enough to do it?
There was a sleepy-looking evidence sergeant on the other side of the door, leaning on a desk with his head propped up on one elbow. Laura flashed her badge at him as Nate did the same, and they didn’t even have to speak.
“You’re here to see the mannequins,” he stated with confidence. As if they couldn’t have been there for any other reason. Nate supposed he was right. What other evidence was there, in the only case the FBI were investigating here?
“Lead on,” Nate said, gesturing ahead.
The sergeant lead them into the room with a set of keys from his belt, unlocking a metal cage-style door and leading them right to the back of the storage space. It was packed with all kinds of evidence from the various cases that were being processed through the precinct, which was apparently quite a large amount. But unmistakable at the back, wrapped in plastic to protect them from dust, contaminants, and fingerprints, were the mannequins.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the sergeant said. “I’m sure you guys know what you’re doing.”
“Right, thanks,” Laura said, a little distantly. Nate wasn’t sure if the sergeant noticed, but he turned to go back to his desk either way.
What they were going to do was probably going to be against regulations. After all, you weren’t supposed to touch evidence. That was one of the key rules you learned very early on in law enforcement. If you touched it, you might end up obscuring another fingerprint or contaminating the evidence. It could end up upsetting the whole case at trial.
But Laura knew what she was doing – he had been right about that. If she thought that touching one of these mannequins would help her to get a lead, then it was worth it.
“Are you going to do it now?” Nate asked in a low voice, as soon as the sergeant was out of earshot.
“Yeah,” Laura said, glancing up at him. “Look, it’s not… just remember I’ve done this in front of you hundreds of times. Maybe thousands. You just never knew before. It’s not that big a deal.”
Who was she trying to convince – him, or herself?
“Right,” Nate said, fully aware that his own voice was also none too convincing. “Totally normal.”