Broken Paths (AIR Book 2)

by Amanda Booloodian

  "You went out on a date with him?" Rider asked.

  Shaking my head and smiling, I looked up at Rider. "Yes, but that was last night, we should keep work separate."

  "Do I have to like him?" Rider asked as though we were alone in the room.

  "We can talk about that later," I said.

  Logan looked like he was trying hard not to laugh while Ethan looked resigned.

  "Sorry," Ethan said, "bad start."

  "No, what you said was okay," I assured him.

  Logan took the lead. "We may be here for no reason at all. We'll have to talk to the suspect to know for sure."

  "That's all I get?" Ethan asked.

  "We need to talk to the man to find out more," I said, "then, if this incident has nothing to do with us, we'll try to get out of your hair. It's too early in the morning for the bureaucracy crap to get in the way."

  Ethan's lips curled up, but it only lasted a moment. "Well, you all are not the only ones waiting. The DEA have been around for a few weeks, and they want to interview him. They weren't too happy when they were told to cool their heels."

  Logan was watching the office through the window in the door. He was already bored with this conversation and ready to move on. Rider was looking everywhere, as though he was memorizing the office.

  "Why is the DEA here?" I asked.

  "Seems like they're always here these days," Ethan said. "There're rumors about a new drug hitting the streets," Ethan said.

  "Here, and not in the city?" That didn't sound right to me.

  "It's only a rumor," Ethan said. "As far as I know, no one has found anything yet. Here, or in the city."

  "Can you tell us anything about the suspect?"

  "The man killed his girlfriend in a rage. DEA is hoping to get a blood test soon. They think he's doped up. Since we found drugs in the apartment, it's a safe bet, but we only found the usual stuff." Ethan glanced at Rider before sitting back in his chair. He motioned for us to sit as well, but I was the only one who did. "We were told not to interrogate him. The thing is that he doesn't really need to be interrogated. He's been talking since we picked him up. We left him alone in the room, but we got down plenty before he reached the station."

  "What did he say?" I asked.

  "He admitted straight away that he killed his girlfriend."

  I arched my eyebrows. "No trying to deny it?"

  "No. We read him his rights, but he kept talking. He claims his necklace is possessed and made him do it. Prime candidate for a mental deficiency plea."

  Logan came back around to the conversation. "Could be that's what he's trying for."

  I looked at my partner and wondered what he really thought. "Anything else?"

  Ethan stood. "That's the gist of it. It'll all be in the file, but I think you'll be able to hear for yourselves when you get in there."

  "We're going to need the necklace when we talk to him," I said.

  "I'll bring it up." Ethan gestured to the door.

  Time to go see our suspect. It struck me that I was getting ready to walk into a room with a man that had murdered someone only a few hours ago. It didn’t sit well mentally, but I tried to push away the oncoming anxiety of being in the same room with a killer.

  "Agent Heidrich," Ethan said, as we left his office, "may I have a word with you in private first? It will only take a minute."

  "Sure."

  Logan chuckled, and I closed the door firmly on both my partners, knowing that it was no more private than if I had left the door open. With my partners’ extreme listening abilities, they could walk across the room and probably hear every word we said.

  Ethan cleared his throat, and he looked like he was thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. "Is this going to work?"

  "We said no hard feelings if either of us had to cancel anything for work, right? Let's amend that to include no hard feelings for anything that might happen that's work related, including treating each other like we would anyone else."

  "Thank you for that." He looked tired but smiled. "It may be easier said than done, though."

  The look made me want to curl my toes, so he might be right about that, but I plunged forward. "If either of us decided to walk off this case for the other, we would end with resentment. Especially since I don't even know if we have a case."

  "You're right, and it may not be so bad working together." Ethan moved around to the front of the desk but kept a respectable distance. "You look nice. How do you look so put together in the morning."

  I tried not to laugh, but it filtered through my words. "Four large cups of coffee and a partner who made me go upstairs and fix my first attempt at getting ready."

  Ethan coughed to cover his amusement, and then looked out the door while regaining his serious mood. "We probably shouldn't keep your partners waiting so long. Agent Seale looks antsy to talk to our suspect."

  "He probably is, but then he always looks like that." Even standing still Logan looked like fluid movement on the brink of being released.

  Ethan opened the door for me. "Thank you, Agent Heidrich."

  "Yeah, that agent stuff is probably going to have to go," I muttered.

  Ethan led us down a few halls, and we found two people arguing with an officer outside the interrogation room.

  "You can't go in," the officer said. "I have my orders. You shouldn't have gone in there in the first place."

  "It's not down to you to kick us out. We're doing our job," one of the agents said.

  "And I'm doing mine," the officer replied.

  It was one of those arguments among professionals where no one raised their voice, but you could tell by their stiff stances and glaring eyes that no one was thrilled with the situation.

  "Excuse me," Ethan said and led the men down the hall, leaving the officer behind. Once he had them down the hall, Ethan gave us a nod.

  Logan pointed to a door. "Rider, we'll have you in the viewing room. Make sure no one joins you, especially those men. They're DEA agents."

  "How can you tell?" I asked.

  "I can't imagine anyone else as eager to get into the room as these guys appear to be," Logan said.

  Looking down the hall, one of the agents was glaring our way while talking with Ethan. The officer by the door was watching Ethan and the agents, looking amused.

  The suspect began talking as soon as we entered the room. "You have to listen to me, it's the necklace. It did this to me. It's the reason I killed her."

  Logan held up a hand to stem the admission. "Rider, mosey on in here for a minute."

  I tried not to look puzzled, but I'm not sure I managed it.

  "Look," the suspect began again as Rider entered the room. "If you listen—"

  Logan held a hand up again and quieted the man down before turning to Rider. "You hear it?"

  Rider looked like he was concentrating. "I hear many things."

  There was nothing I could hear, but I seized the Path, holding back much of the current, to see if I could read what they heard.

  "This one is a buzz," Logan said, "down low and away from the lights."

  Rider walked to one of the chairs and then flipped it over. At first, I didn't see anything but a blurry concentration of greenish brown that clung to the Path, but once they pointed it out, I recognized it. Not only had the DEA come into the room, but they also bugged it. I'm sure this was against the law, but more importantly, it pissed me off.

  Rider took the tiny device off the chair, inspected it briefly, and then handed it to me.

  Aggravated, I marched straight out of the room and down the hall where Ethan was talking with the agents.

  I held up the small device and scowled. "This is an obstruction of justice and infringement on the rights of the accused." I had no idea if any if that was true, but it sounded right. "We're supposed to be on the same side." The Path picked up a frenzy of emotion, guilt, impatience, anger; it all came at once and pressed in on me.

  Rider walked out and gave a low m
enacing growl, his Path merged into the others before overpowering them. Instead of making me more uncomfortable, though, it rolled through me.

  Everyone stopped to look at Rider, even me. A man nearly six and a half foot tall can garner a lot of attention when he's angry.

  Rider took the tiny listening device from me and held it up with two fingers to show the agents. Then he crushed it. He rubbed his fingers together, flicked away specks of the device, and went back to the viewing room to watch the interrogation.

  The Path around the agents diminished and shifted hesitantly, as though afraid to travel too far from its source.

  "Damn," Ethan said, under his breath.

  I stifled a grin, appreciating my partner's antics, and trying to avoid looking at Ethan's Path, I moved back to the interrogation room.

  "Agents." Ethan held up a plastic bag. "Here's the item you asked for."

  Logan took the bag and examined the contents through the plastic.

  "Thank you." I flashed Ethan a smile, in case Rider had thrown him too far off balance, then Logan and I went back into the room.

  The suspect was sitting in the bright lights with his hands folded in front of him on the table. He took one look at what Logan had in his hands and let out a scream while jumping into the corner. Blues, purples, and greens marred the room and yellows crushed their way through. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. The intensity also had me damming the Path back to a trickle to have enough energy to keep going.

  The interrogation room door had remained open, so the officer outside noticed the event and looked questioningly at us.

  I shook my head, and he shut the door.

  "Knock it off, Ed," I said.

  Logan dropped the plastic bag holding the necklace onto the table.

  "Keep that thing away from me." He stood trembling. "You shouldn't touch it either, keep it away."

  "Why don't we start with what happened?" Logan said.

  We left the bag sitting where it was, ignoring it. For Ed, the presence was like a weight, each time he shifted his gaze to us, it always landed back on that bag.

  "Look I killed her, okay. That's what happened. Now get that thing out of here."

  "Where did you pick this up?" Logan sat back on a chair.

  Seeing what my partner was doing, I leaned against the wall. We tried to pull back from Ed in a way that would make him more comfortable with coming forward. It wasn't happening, though. The man looked like he was prepared to put down roots. Even his Path clung to the corner.

  Logan nudged the bag forward a minuscule amount. "Where'd you come by it, Ed?”

  Ed licked his lips. "A guy I know. He said it was fun. Said it would help me get what I wanted."

  While they spoke, I drew up feelings of safety and contentment and tried to get the emotions to calm Ed. I may as well have been using a feather to knock down a wall, and I was left feeling shaky enough to join Logan at the table.

  "Who's this guy?" Logan asked.

  "Don't know him well. His name's Terry, but I don't know any more than that."

  "What did you want from Terry?" Logan asked.

  Ed looked at Logan with his forehead creased. "Man, I wanted what everyone wants. Money and an easy life, maybe a little to smoke up now and again."

  "What else did Terry say about it?"

  I continued to watch as Logan and Ed volleyed back and forth.

  "I don't know," Ed said. "I don't know, get it out of here. Away from me."

  "He must have said more."

  "I thought it was a good luck charm. He talked as if it was some sort of drug. We were both wrong. That's not what it is."

  "You believe in good luck charms?" Logan asked.

  "It doesn't matter, that's not what it is."

  "What is it?"

  "It's possessed. He sold me evil bottled up."

  "So you believe in possession?"

  "No. I mean I didn't before."

  "Now you do?"

  "It's crazy, but I'm telling you." Ed slid down the wall and tried to make himself smaller. "That thing is possessed. You need to get it away from me."

  "Why did you think it was a good luck charm?" I asked, trying to drag his attention away from the necklace.

  "Terry said it would help me get what I wanted. He said it was good, and it would help me. I thought it would bring me luck, or help bring money into the house." Ed focused on me, but, inevitably, his gaze went back to the table.

  "Tell me why you killed your girlfriend?" I asked.

  "She— it was an argument, and she was yelling. I snapped. I lost it. I'm not even sure what happened. I don't even remember what happened."

  "What made you think it was the necklace?" Logan asked.

  Ed didn't say anything. He sat in the corner, pale-faced and sweating. It looked like he was trying but failing to look away from the plastic bag.

  "What made you think it was the necklace?" I repeated Logan's question and reached for the bag.

  "It... something came out of it." Ed's voice quavered. "It filled me up, filled up the room. Then it was over."

  Not wanting to drag Ed down a bad Path, I didn't pick up the evidence. Instead, I leaned back and scratched my temple to let Logan take over the conversation completely, and I read from where I sat.

  A range of colors swirled across the room. Memories of old Paths that hadn't worn away, along with Ed's additions to the tapestry. The necklace was encased in soft red halo.

  Maybe traces of Ed's homicidal actions? I moved around, adjusting to view the necklace at different angles, but saw nothing beyond its own smooth glow.

  I rubbed my eyes and leaned back. A red blaze flashed from under the plastic and winked out again. It was like one of the small sparks that flew away from welders, but encased. I moved again, trying to catch another glint, but couldn't reproduce the results.

  Color rippled, and the Path flowed smoothly around the room, no matter which current I rerouted or layer that I peeled back, I couldn't find that dazzling light.

  A rushed knock made me jump and the Path poured over me.

  Gripping the table for support, I heard Ethan's voice at the door. "Can I have a word?"

  I had a tenuous hold on my power, but, with a struggle, I anchored myself down long enough to force the torrent away. Weariness crept over me as colors went dreary.

  Logan had been my partner long enough to know when I ran into trouble, and he waited at the table. Once I gave him a small nod and stood, he snatched up the evidence, and we left the room. Seeing Ethan made me put in the effort to appear alert, but I had to lean against the wall for support.

  "When our friend Ed came into the station, he made a phone call right away," Ethan said.

  I frowned, knowing where this leading.

  Rider joined us in the hall, sticking close to my side.

  Ethan cleared his throat. "The thing is, instead of calling his lawyer, he called his shrink, and the man's here to see Ed."

  Logan crossed his arms. "Psychologist?"

  "Psychiatrist, but in residency," Ethan said.

  The groan escaped me before I knew it was on its way.

  "What is the difference?" Rider asked.

  "A psychiatrist is an MD, medical doctor." I gestured to the room with Ed. "Basically, Ed called for medical help."

  "Is he injured?" Rider asked.

  "Not exactly," I said.

  Arms crossed, Logan looked at Ethan. "What's the decision on how to handle this?"

  "Given his actions and behavior, I'm inclined to let the doctor in to see him." Ethan shifted and avoided looking in my direction. "When this comes to trial, it could cause trouble if we don't."

  A hint of grin showed up on Logan's face. "How'd the DEA take it?"

  "The agents weren't too happy, but they can get their drug test with the doctor in the room," Ethan said.

  Logan relaxed and rocked back on his heels. "That puts us out of play. At least for now."

  Chapter 9

&nbs
p; "Did you get what you need?" Ethan asked.

  "Well, yes and no," Logan said. "With all his raving about the necklace, we'd like to get a closer look at it."

  "It's a murder case," Ethan said, "so all of our evidence can be moved to the top of the heap for processing. It has to go to the lab, though. It's not an in-house job."

  Inwardly, I winced. "Is there anything our office can do to help?"

  Criminalistics laboratories were great, but I knew they would take time. The evidence would also be passed around. They would wear gloves and take precautions to avoid contamination, but with the type of work we do, the more people around it, the less we can get from it.

  Ethan hesitated. "For as often as Ed mentioned this thing, if the case goes to trial that necklace is going to be involved somehow. If it's tested separately from the rest, and not in the state lab, it's going to look bad."

  He wasn't wrong, but it wasn't an ideal outcome.

  Ethan looked at me and I tried to make my face look neutral, but I'm not sure it worked.

  "Now," Ethan said, "I know you all have pull, and you could take this thing out of here tonight if you really wanted to, but it might be better all-around if you leave it with us."

  Looking at Logan, I could tell he wasn't interested in messing up Ethan's case for the necklace.

  "He killed someone," I said. "We're not going to do anything that would jeopardize your work."

  I hadn't realized that Ethan was tense until I saw him relax.

  "Are you done with the evidence?" Logan asked me.

  Feeling a dull ache settling in, I knew I shouldn't push myself further. "I could use a few more minutes, but I think I've done what I can for now. Maybe some caffeine will help." It wasn't likely, but a girl could hope.

  Logan passed the necklace on to Ethan. "Are you sending Ed's doctor in now?"

  "He has to wait for his supervisor. I'm not really sure," Ethan said.

  I threw in the reasoning without thinking. "It sounds like he or she is under direct supervision. They must be early in their residency."