Smoke & Mirrors

by Charlie Cochet

  “Hey, guys. Ready?”

  The two medical examiners nodded, and Hudson walked beside Sloane.

  “How bad is it?”

  “From what I could see, really bad.” Sloane shook his head sadly as he led them back into the house. He looked over his shoulder at Ash and motioned to the door. His best friend knew the drill. Ash took position in front of the front door after Sloane, Hudson, Nina, and Dex went in. No one was getting past Ash without the right credentials. These days the press would climb over you to get footage or pictures of the crime scene. The last thing they needed was another media frenzy. Cases with Human-Therian couples always brought out the bigots and zealots. Any excuse to condemn the couple or spout hate in an attempt to justify why the two should have never been together in the first place. Mrs. Reynolds deserved better than that. Whatever Dylan Reynolds’s reason for performing such a heinous act, the fact one was a Human and the other a Therian played no part in it.

  Sloane showed Hudson and Nina to the body, or what was left of it. While they performed their preliminary assessment, Sloane joined Dex in the living room, where his partner was standing in front of the fireplace. Dex stood staring down at the framed photo in his gloved hand. It was a wedding photo of Dylan Reynolds and his blushing bride. They were embracing and laughing.

  “They look so happy,” Dex said quietly. “I don’t get it. I mean, I get it. I’ve been a cop long enough to have heard it all, but a part of me still doesn’t understand.” He returned the picture to the mantle and motioned to the dozens of other captured moments displayed with pride. “Look at them. They clearly loved each other. He loved her. You can see it in his eyes. How could he tear her to shreds like that?”

  Dex turned to Sloane, his visor up, making it so Sloane could see Dex’s pale blue eyes and the pain in them. They grew glassy, and Sloane put a hand to Dex’s shoulder. It wasn’t like Dex to get emotional at a crime scene.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I, uh….” Dex blinked the tears from his eyes and laughed. “Don’t know what the hell’s gotten into me.”

  “It’s okay. Not exactly a great first day back on the job. Why don’t you head back to the truck?”

  Dex looked like he wanted to protest, but looking around the house, he nodded instead.

  “Thanks.”

  Sloane watched him walk off. Usually Dex was cheerful, cracking jokes, teasing Ash, bugging his brother. He never got emotional unless it was anger. There had been times Dex was furious when faced with injustice, but emotional like this? Never. There were occasions where a case had hit them hard, and one or more of their teammates had shed tears, but it was never out in the field. Everyone lost their shit back at HQ, in private, surrounded by their brethren. They all had their way of dealing with death, of coping with the unspeakable things they came across while on the job. Sloane walked to the front door and spoke quietly to Ash.

  “Hey, can you keep an eye on Dex?”

  Ash nodded. “Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”

  “I don’t know. I’m worried about him. He’s not been himself since you know what.”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Sloane gave him a pat on the chest before heading back inside. Hudson called him from the dining room, and Sloane approached.

  “What have you got?”

  “Obviously we’ll have to return the body to the lab for further analysis and confirmation, but the victim is most certainly female, early thirties. The tears and bite marks are consistent with that of a tiger Therian. We’ve found tiger fur, along with foreign fibers, on the victim. We’ll need blood samples from Mr. Reynolds and to run a DNA comparison against what we find on Mrs. Reynolds. I’ll let you know as soon as we get a hit.”

  “Thanks, Hudson.”

  Sloane thanked Nina as he walked by, greeting the CSAs and Recon agents who’d arrived to process the crime scene and begin the investigation. Two Recon agents took over for Ash, and he and his best friend headed back to the BearCat. It was time to return to HQ and get some answers from Dylan Reynolds.

  While Reynolds was processed, examined, and administered PSTC, Sloane got to work on the case file. He used his security clearance to create a new case file on Themis, adding his notes and descriptions of the incident, along with digital maps of the area, including location of the incident. Across from him, Dex sat at his desk, a deep frown on his face as he typed away at his report. At one point he stopped typing, but he was still staring down at his desk.

  “Okay.” Sloane stood and walked over to the door. He placed his palm against the security panel and entered his security clearance, setting the room to privacy mode. Dex didn’t even notice. With a sigh, he took his chair and moved it over to Dex. He sat down, grabbed his partner’s chair, and wheeled him over to face him. Dex blinked at him. It was only then that he noticed the room was in privacy mode.

  “What’s going on?” Dex asked, his head cocked to one side as he studied Sloane.

  “Babe, I need you to talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  Sloane’s brows shot up. Really? Was Dex that oblivious to what was happening, or was he purposefully trying to avoid talking about it? Leaning forward, Sloane took Dex’s hands in his.

  “We need to talk about what’s going on with you. Have you even thought about seeing Dr. Winters?” As expected, that earned him a frown.

  “I don’t need to talk to a shrink. If I need to talk about my feelings, I’ll just talk to you.”

  “And you know I’ll always be right here to listen, except you’re not talking to me, sweetheart. You’re doing everything but talking.”

  “What is there to talk about?” Dex shrugged. He pulled his hands out of Sloane’s and rubbed at his thighs, his gaze off across the room.

  “Dex, you were tortured. You’ve been having seizures. You found out your parents were murdered. What do you mean ‘what is there to talk about?’ Lots, baby. There’s lots to talk about.”

  Dex slowly turned his gaze back to Sloane, his eyes narrowed. “Did you just call me baby?”

  “I did.”

  “It’s weird. Makes me think of Dirty Dancing.”

  “Of course it does.” Sloane held back a smile. “What would you like me to call you, then?”

  “Batman.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “It was worth a try.” Dex’s smile faded. He swallowed hard. “I’ve had a few nightmares. Sometimes it’s a replay of exactly what happened. The worst ones are when it changes. When it’s not me in that chair, but you, or Cael, and I’m helpless to stop it.”

  Sloane wheeled himself closer to Dex. He took Dex’s hands in his again but didn’t speak, simply offered his strength.

  Dex dropped his gaze to their hands, his brows drawn together. “I’ve been trying to process it. Not what Wolf wanted, but what he did… to me. And I don’t just mean the torture, I mean the uncertainty. The fear. I hate jumping at shadows or noise. Hate that I find myself looking over my shoulder. He messed with my head, and I hate it so much.” With jaw set, he lifted his chin, and Sloane’s heart squeezed at the determination in those pale blue eyes. “But fuck it if I’m going to let him win. It’s going to be hard, but I’m working through it. I’ll get through it like I’ve gotten through all the other messed-up situations I’ve found myself in since I became a cop. I won’t let it get the better of me. Fuck Wolf. If I ever see him again, he’s getting kicked in the nads.”

  Sloane couldn’t help his chuckle. Now that sounded like his Dex.

  “The seizures, they’re scaring the shit out of me. I won’t lie about that. But I think Austen’s right. I think I need to play this out.”

  Sloane rubbed his hands over his face and got to his feet. “That’s insane, Dex. Who knows what’s causing them, and you refuse to seek medical attention?” Sloane knelt down beside Dex, hoping he’d listen to reason. “You need to see a doctor. Don’t you want to know what’s causing them?�
��

  “Of course I do, but we need to figure out a way to do that without me going to the hospital. My gut tells me it would be a bad idea.”

  “No, Austen said it would be a bad idea, and last time I checked, neither you nor him are doctors.”

  “There’s a reason he said it. I might not trust TIN, but I trust Austen not to lie to you. Not about something like this. He might be a lot of things, but he would never betray you.”

  Dex was right about that. They didn’t know a whole lot about what Austen did working for TIN, but Sloane had watched the kid grow up. Austen wouldn’t deceive him.

  This conversation was far from over, but Sloane knew when it was time to move on. For now. He returned to his chair and took Dex’s hand again. “Okay, what about your parents?”

  Dex frowned. “I don’t think I want to talk about that.”

  “Hey, look at me.” Sloane opened his stance so he could pull Dex’s chair closer to him. He reached out and cupped Dex’s face. They’d reached the source of his partner’s true pain. It wasn’t just Wolf; it wasn’t whatever was happening inside Dex. It was about his parents.

  “I know it’s stupid. They died when I was five. I mourned their death. I moved on. And it’s not even finding out they were killed. Deep down, I knew that. I knew something wasn’t right. Kids pick up on a lot of things, more than adults realize. Yet despite all that, I told myself they were ordinary people leading ordinary lives who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Dex’s eyes grew glassy. He pushed away from Sloane and stood, pacing the office.

  “What are you afraid of?” Sloane asked gently.

  Dex worried his bottom lip with his teeth. His brows furrowed, and he rubbed at his eyes. He turned to face Sloane, and Sloane could see how hard he was fighting his emotions.

  “What if they weren’t the people I thought they were? My dad was my hero. My mom, she was….” A tear rolled down his cheek, and he quickly brushed it aside. “What if everything I remember about them is a lie? What if it was all bullshit?”

  “Dex….”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about this. About TIN, Shultzon, my joining the THIRDS when I did. Don’t you think it’s all a little suspect?”

  Sloane stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s like everything I’ve done has led me here to this moment, to these exact events. I can’t explain it, but I feel like there’s something bigger going on. My first case with the THIRDS concerned Pearce, who happened to lead us to Shultzon, who ran the First Gen Research Facility where you grew up, and for some reason Shultzon deemed my parents enough of a threat to have them killed. My mom had some kind of file that no one seems to know anything about. What if everything is somehow connected?”

  “What if it is?” Sloane asked, standing. He walked over to Dex and pulled him close. “That’s not going to mean your parents loved you any less. From what I’ve heard about them from you, from Maddock, they adored you, Dex. Whatever happened to them, whatever the reason behind their deaths, you were their son, and they loved you.”

  Dex closed his eyes and nodded, allowing Sloane to pull him into his arms. Sloane held him, offering comfort. Family was important to Dex. It was the one thing he felt the strongest about. His family meant everything to him. It drove him.

  “You’re afraid to find out the truth. Afraid of what it might mean for you now.” Sloane pulled back enough to plant a kiss on Dex’s cheek. “Listen to me. Whatever you find out, it won’t change how they loved you. It won’t change the amazing man you are, and it certainly won’t change how much I, Tony, or Cael love you. We’re your family, Dex, and we’ll be here to face whatever comes our way, right at your side. You’re the bravest man I know. You can do this.”

  Dex nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am. I’m always right, remember?”

  Dex laughed, and Sloane brushed his thumb across his cheek before kissing his lips. It was a sweet, tender kiss, one he wished could go on for much longer. When he pulled away, his heart swelled at the vibrant light in those amazing eyes.

  “There you are.”

  Dex smiled warmly, causing little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Hi.”

  As much as Sloane wished they could stay like this all day, they had to get back to work. As if sensing his thoughts, Dex nodded toward the door.

  “It’s okay. Duty calls. I’m good. Promise.”

  “If at any point you’re not, you tell me, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dex resumed his seat behind his desk, and Sloane took their office off privacy mode. He’d wheeled his chair back to his desk when Maddock’s voice came over his earpiece.

  “Sloane?”

  “Yes, Sarge.”

  “Reynolds is ready for you. Interrogation room A7. Send Dex down to Hudson’s lab. He has some results for us.”

  “Copy that. On my way. I’ll relay the information to Dex.” He disconnected with Maddock and motioned toward the door. “Reynolds is ready for questioning. Hudson’s got some results for us. Sarge wants you to pick it up from the lab.”

  Dex gave him a nod, and Sloane left their office to head to the elevator. The interrogation rooms were on the first floor near processing. Cael and Rosa were out questioning the Reynoldses’ coworkers, friends, and family. The information would appear on the file as they filed it. By now Sloane should have a better idea about the kind of man Dylan Reynolds was and what might prompt him to kill his wife in such a brutal manner.

  Reaching the assigned interrogation room, Sloane nodded to the two Defense agents from Unit Beta keeping guard on either side before he went into the room. Dylan Reynolds looked like he was barely holding it together. Sloane took a seat across from him. It was hard for Sloane to picture the man as a murderer, seeing him looking so shattered. He’d clearly been crying. His nose was red, his face flushed, his eyes bloodshot and puffy.

  “Dylan, my name is Sloane Brodie. I’m the Team Leader for Destructive Delta, the team that brought you in. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “I didn’t kill her,” Dylan murmured. He appeared dazed, his head lowered and his gaze on nothing in particular.

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Sloane drew his tablet out from his tac pants, logged in, and brought up the case file, along with Dylan’s personal file and his wife’s. Dylan was a college graduate. He studied architecture, had a good job, excellent salary, and no debt. His parents lived in Philly, wife’s parents lived in Virginia. On screen they looked like any other couple.

  “I already told those other four or five agents. I didn’t kill my wife.”

  “I want to help you, Dylan, but I need you to tell me what happened.” Sloane tapped the screen, placed the tablet on the table, and tapped Record. “From the beginning.”

  Dylan let out a heavy sigh. “Around noon, Alicia sent me a text saying she wasn’t going to yoga because she wasn’t feeling well. I was worried. I called her up to see how she was and if she wanted me to bring her something on my way home from work. She didn’t answer. I tried texting, calling, e-mailing, everything. I started to panic. Something was wrong. I could feel it.”

  Sloane frowned. “How?”

  “I just knew. It was like this ache deep in my soul. It got worse and worse until I felt like it was trying to tear me apart from the inside out. And after the seizure she had a couple of weeks before, I was terrified she was about to have another episode.”

  Sloane’s head shot up. “Seizure?”

  Dylan nodded. “Yes. A few weeks ago, she suffered a seizure with convulsions. I’d never been so scared in my life. I called 911, and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors ran all kinds of tests but said the results might take some time.”

  Was it possible? Sloane pushed back the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Dylan, did you mark your wife? Were you two bonded?”

  Dylan swallowed hard before nodding. �
�A few months ago. On our honeymoon. I was afraid to. I didn’t want to hurt her, but she wanted to so bad. I wanted it too.” He looked up at Sloane, the agony in his green eyes hard to ignore. “I would have given my life for her, Agent Brodie. She was everything to me. My whole life.” His bottom lip trembled, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

  Sloane brought up his interoffice messenger and sent a message to Hudson asking him to request Alicia Reynolds’s test results for the seizure she had a few weeks ago. Hudson replied with an acknowledgment. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Except Sloane had a hard time believing in coincidences lately. Alicia Reynolds was a Human, marked and bonded by her Therian husband. Not long after being marked, she had a seizure. Why? What the hell happened? Then there was the fact that Dylan had supposedly mauled his wife to death.

  Either Dylan Reynolds was an exceptional actor, or something wasn’t right. Could someone who’d marked their mate truly murder them? There were times when Sloane feared he’d lose control, but his fear came with the possibility of hurting someone else, never Dex. Sloane would turn his claws on himself before he hurt Dex. The thought startled him, and he was grateful for the knock that jolted him out of his thoughts.

  Dex walked in, his expression stoic as he leaned to whisper in Sloane’s ear.

  Alicia Reynolds had been pregnant.

  Sloane closed his eyes for a moment, getting his bearings before nodding to Dex.

  “Thanks.”

  Dex nodded. He turned to leave when Dylan sniffed the air. His gaze darted to Dex as he left the room before Dylan turned his wide eyes back to Sloane. He leaned forward, his voice quiet.

  “Tell me, Agent Brodie. Would you ever hurt him?”

  Sloane cleared his throat and tapped away at his tablet. “You said something was wrong with your wife. What happened then?”

  “You’d sooner die than hurt him, wouldn’t you? The thought of him in pain tears at your heart, like your feral half is sinking its claws into you, as if it would rather destroy you than physically harm him.”