92- Ren and Hays

Earlier that same day, after having dropped Quayleigh at her apartment building, Folsten returned to the station and joined Harlowe in his office.

"I wasn't expecting you to come back," he remarked as Folsten shut the door.

"I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I need to talk to you about what happened today."

"Was she a problem?"

"Surprisingly, she was not the problem," Folsten replied as she sat on the edge of his desk. "Inniken tried to get a print of my magic."

"That fucking bastard. That was not a part of our deal! Hayden, if I'd have known, I never would have agreed to send you in there," he remarked tossing the file he had been holding onto his desk.

"It's fine. It was as much my choice as it was yours. And I didn't give him one, but no doubt he is going to be taking a closer look at me now. It's not that my past is necessarily a secret, and we both know he's going to have a hard time proving anything, but it could complicate matters once he discovers the truth."

"He's not going to find anything," Harlowe said placing his hand comfortingly upon her leg. "We covered our tracks, Hayden. As suspicious as it may look, he won't be able to track you back to who you were."

"How can you be so certain? Ren, we were young. We could have made a mistake; trusted the wrong people. It's not like we have any proof that they actually did what we paid them to do. Either way, it's obvious now, at least to everyone in that room today, that I've had some training. Fuck, even an idiot like Mazurka would have left a print on that freaking canvas without trying and I had no choice but to leave it blank."

"It's been nearly twenty years. Even if they figured out who you were, what does it even matter? They can't force you to give a print and without it, they can't prove a damn thing."

"That's not what I care about Ren. I've worked so hard to build my life and career from nothing. If it gets out what happened, I'll be ruined. Everything I sacrificed, my friends, my family," she paused for a moment to take a breath, "you, it will all have been for nothing."

Harlowe leaned back in his chair and sighed. "If I transfer you now, it will only raise more questions. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"For now, take me out for a drink. Like you said, it's been nearly twenty years. We have a lot to catch up on, and we didn't exactly talk much last night."

"Talking was never our strong suit, Hays," Harlowe remarked as she looked down at him, her eyes damp with worry; an expression he'd never seen her wear before.

"Maybe that was where we went wrong. Maybe if I would have explained myself, you wouldn't have let me walk away so easily."

"I let you go because you told me it was what you wanted, and I was in no position to argue. You knew what I was dealing with, and you made it damned clear, you didn't want any part of that pile of shit."

"A regrettable mistake, I admit."

"It seems we both have regrets. But I'm hoping, last night wasn't one of them."

"No, it isn't. Not for me anyways. I suppose all we can do, for now, is wait this entire thing out; see if Inniken pushes the matter or decides it's a waste of time to dig deeper. On the upside that little bitch seems to be playing nice with the mages. She even wants to spend the entire day there tomorrow."

"Seems to be? You have your doubts?"

"Just an impression I got. She's dim, but not as dim as she pretends to be. It's pretty obvious that she understands more than she lets on. She's guarded and careful with her words, but it was different when she asked if she could stay there tomorrow. Her guard was gone, until I told her that I was leaving at two with or without her."

"Seems a bit harsh," Harlowe remarked as she shifted her position, setting her foot onto the edge of his chair.

"Do you really expect me to waste my entire day, sitting around in a windowless room waiting for nothing to happen?"

"Of course not."

"Good, because I wasn't going to anyways. She told me that she hadn't expected me to wait around all day for her when she asked for liaison, proving how naïve she is about how all of this was going to work from the start."

"But the shift of her attitude, that has you bothered?" Harlowe asked as he wrapped his hand around her ankle and moved it up the back of her calf.

"Yeah, there was excitement. She liked the idea of me not having to be there. Something changed when she was alone with Phaedra, and I have no idea what. And then there was Phaedra. He was different today after he saw her. His entire disposition became… protective, almost brotherly. And once we parted ways at the entrance to the archives this morning, I never saw him for the rest of the day."

"Then it's best if you leave her to fend for herself," he stated as he leaned forward, setting his other hand on top of hers. "From now on, don't go into that building. Not unless she calls for you, and even that stops once she gets us some answers. Do not put yourself at risk for her. As a cop you have more than enough reasons for not sitting around all day. Hays, you are the best at what you do, you always have been, but keeping scarce, at least until we know what Inniken's up to, it's for the best. I don't want you to have to disappear on me, again."

"Oh please, Ren; you saying you didn't keep tabs on me?" she asked as she turned her hand over and tickled his palm with the tips of her fingers.

"Not at first, but once you joined the force, I kept an eye out. I would have done anything for you, Hays. All you had to do was ask. But I want you to know, everything you've done, what you made of yourself, what you accomplished, it was all you. I took note, nothing more. And after you ended up in Clairemont, I never thought the two of us would have ended up working together. Funny how things worked out."

"I never stopped missing you, Ren, but I knew if I took a position here in Freetier, I wouldn't have been able to stay away, and no one would have believed I got to this point on my own…"

"I know," he interrupted. He knew she had her reasons for the things she did, but it all just sounded like excuses to him, and he didn't want to hash open the past for things that couldn't be changed. "It doesn't make it easier, but I know."

A sudden knock on the door caused an abrupt separation as Folsten got off his desk and moved to the side of the room.

"Come in!" Harlowe shouted, angry that they had been disturbed, and Mazurka opened the door.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said as he maneuvered over to his desk and sat down. "I've got the report from Byatti along with a message saying, 'Next time, just wait for the reports.'"

"Ha, well that's far more civil than what she said on the phone," Harlowe remarked as he momentarily glanced at Folsten, who was trying to contain her amusement. "I hope you choke on it… I believe that's how she put it."

"Lovely woman. Can hardly wait to work with her again," Mazurka remarked as he handed the file to Harlowe.

"Does it say anything interesting?"

"Nothing more than what you would expect. ME claims it's a suicide with assistance, despite there being evidence to the contrary, but Byatti insisted it was one of ours so here we are, and as I explained earlier," Mazurka remarked with a sigh, "I agree with her."

"You still didn't explain why you agree with her though. The ME's explanation of the bodies appearance makes sense, and not every body that's found has to be connected to our case."

"I agree, but the thing is, Skye's found a pattern emerging amongst the victims, and this one fits the pattern."

"What pattern? Why haven't I been informed of this yet?"

"Because it's still barely a theory, and a very difficult one to prove, at that. We believe that all of the victims, so far, have been murdered within or around, what could be interpreted as their final moments."

"Come again?" Harlowe questioned, setting the report on his desk.

"They were all about to die. Rather they appear to be very close to death or doing something that could have led to their deaths. Unfortunately for us, there's no way to definitively prove it, but the circumstantial evidence paints a compelling picture. Every victim, with only the exception of the group of five, fits this theory," Mazurka explained.

"Great, that doesn't exactly narrow down perspective victims or gets us any closer to finding the killer," Harlow replied as he leaned back in his chair feeling no less frustrated than he did before Mazurka explained himself.

"But it does tell us something about the killer," Folsten interjected. "If this theory has any merit, then it tells us that he isn't instinctually violent, and the group wasn't an escalation, just an anomaly in his pattern. He'll return to hunting singles."

"But why the group then? What could he have gained for it?" Mazurka asked the questions despite Harlowe wanting to know the answers to those things himself.

"Fitting your theory, nothing. This killer would be classed as an angel of mercy. He wouldn't have killed the group for personal satisfaction. It's more likely that they either interfered with what he was doing, or he killed them in self-defense using the only means he knew. It was reactionary either way. For the safety of the citizens, that is a good thing. He isn't going to change his MO. If anything, this event may have scared him, even possibly sent him into hiding for a while. It may have given us the time we need to discover how he knows these people are about to die. They may even be the ones contacting him. I suggest ignoring the group as a major signifier in this case and focus on the individuals. If they sought him out, we need to know how they did it, and if possible, if they knew what contacting him would lead to."

"Based on the audio from the Schneider case, my bet is on them not having a clue."

"I agree on both accounts. Either way, it's not much, but it is something to work with, and right now, we don't have anything else to go on. Tell Skye to follow through on her theory. I want her to start scanning for odd advertisements, things that may talk about solving or fixing life's problems, any sort of new religious zealot groups that have popped up or that type of chatter. She'll know what to look for."

"Will do," Mazurka replied as he stayed sitting at his desk, an awkward silence filling the room.

"Was there something else?"

"Yes, actually. The last of the officers sent to retrieve the cameras returned about an hour ago, and the meeting for the victims has been arranged for 2pm on Monday afternoon with the DA. Skye will have all of the details ready for it by then, and Ginny finished making the arrangements for the party at Lazlo's tomorrow night, starting at 8. I'll make sure Skye's there."

"Good to hear. Keep me informed if anything new comes up. I'm taking off for the night," Harlowe stated as he shut off his computer monitor.

"You're actually trying to leave early?"

"One of the perks of being in charge; mandatory doctors' appointment. You need to schedule yours too. Ginny was supposed to send out reminders yesterday."

"Must have missed it," Mazurka replied, tugging uncomfortably at his tie.

"It's mandatory Mazurka," Harlowe stated as he stood and grabbed his coat. "You need to have it done before your review next month. Don't forget."

*************

"I really didn't think we were going to ever get out of there," Hayden said as Renford watched her from over the edge of his whiskey glass, the ice cubes clinking as they settled.

"As if Mazurka was going to stop me," he huffed from his seat on the other side of the table in a quiet booth near the back of the restaurant they had found themselves in. "That kid thinks way too much about shit that doesn't matter. Toss him a tidbit and he'll figure out how it fits."

"So, when is your real appointment?"

"Saturday morning, but he'll never know."

"Thanks for this Ren. I needed it," she said, a delicate smile lingering behind her neon green cocktail. "You know, I can still remember the last time we did this."

"I'd say it was a better time, but we both know the truth. Your father hated me. He thought I was the reason you wanted out."

"Daddy really was to blind to see that you were the only reason I wanted to stay. You probably heard, but he died a few years back."

"Actually, I hadn't. I'm sorry, Hays. How's your mother holding up?"

"She killed herself a week later. Couldn't bear to live without him," she said before setting down her glass. "More like she didn't know how to exist without being told what to do every second of every day. That poor woman couldn't take a shit without asking his permission first."

"I had no idea."

"Not surprised. Given his position it was kept pretty quiet. Either way," she said raising her glass to him. "The world's a better place without their kind; controlling bastards and spineless cunts."

"I'll drink to that," Renford replied, raising his glass in return.

Their hands parted company as their waitress arrived at their table a few moments later.

"I have a pork loin with beet reduction and chive and dill mashed for you miss, and for you sir, the braised ox tail with haricot and fennel puree," she said as she set their dinners before them. "Can I get anything else for either of you? Perhaps another drink?"

"Yeah, I'll have another," Hayden remarked before emptying her glass and setting down at the end of the table.

"The apple gin martini?"

"That was the one, and I'll have another top-shelf whiskey on the rocks," Renford replied setting his glass next to Hayden's.

"Excellent. I'll be back with those shortly. Enjoy your meal."

Near an hour later, food ate and drinks finished, Renford found himself standing on the dimly lit stoop of the house Hayden owned on the southside of Clairemont Heights, just three blocks from the river, watching as she struggled to unlock her door. It didn't seem to him that it was the lack of light or knowledge, but rather the way her hands were quivering.

"Tricky lock," she muttered back at him, having finally managed to get the door opened.

"I can take a look at it tomorrow for you, if you want," he replied as she stepped inside.

Yet the answer he was expecting and one he received were vastly different as she turned around and took a tight grip on his tie, pulling him inside, too in which, there was no room left for pleasant chat.

They had already shared more conversation that night than either were accustomed too, and perhaps things had changed, now that they were older and wiser, but even as he allowed himself to be carried away by her whims, caught up in the emotion of it all, he knew where all of this was going to end before it had even begun. There was a strength and heat in each kiss. Her breathless gasps and nimble fingers stripping him of his jacket, tie, and shirt before they had even made it to the top of the staircase. It was all too familiar, from the pleasantries of the night before to the memories from two decades previous, behind closed doors, she was still the same as she had always been; exactly as he knew her to be: beautiful, sexy, driven, confident, and manipulative. Yet even as aware as he was that she was leading him around by the nose, he couldn't find the strength to stop. Maybe it was the whiskey or the situation, or lingering feelings that refused to die away, but regardless, he couldn't resist. So, into the darkness of her bedroom, he followed, closing the door behind them as they went.