"Argh! Fuck!" Shane swore, slapping at her shirt as hot coffee splashed across her lap.
"I think I offended someone's grandmother, why the fuck is my karma so off?" she groaned.
"You being hopelessly clumsy isn't karma's fault," Finn replied.
"That's not…" Shane paused, glanced at Finn, then hissed, "Bitch."
"What was that, detective?" Finn asked instantly.
"Nothing!" she said too quickly, a sheen of nervous sweat appearing on her temple.
She waited, then let it out. "And I'm not talking just about the coffee. I mean everything. Get this, yesterday my girlfriend saw me like my ex's post on Instagram and she hasn't spoken to me since."
"Literally no cares abou…" Finn started, but Shane cut her off.
"And I ripped my favourite plushie and I don't even know how the fuck that happened. And to top it all off, I haven't gotten any clue about that missing Andro guy all week. All week, Finn!" she repeated louder.
"This is the first time I've ever investigated anything and not gotten a lead within a week," she said, more to herself than to Finn.
"Yeah, that's because all the cases you solved before were either amateurs or criminals who left traces. It's only the seventh day. You have a plausible suspect. We just have to get him to tell us where he hid the victim," Finn reasoned.
"That guy in there is for sure a fucking scumbag, a useless piece of trash and everyone's favorite fifth rate villain," Shane said in one breath, then inhaled sharply. "But I don't think he's behind the victim's abduction. He would have squealed already if it was him."
"So you're saying someone used Mr. Lamar's crime as cover to hide their tracks?" Finn raised an eyebrow.
"Bingo. Bullseye. Whatever word you want, that's exactly it." Shane jabbed a finger at Finn. "And whoever's behind this is really scary because that means they'd been following either the suspect or the victim, monitoring movements."
"Or they were just convenient to the criminal who was already there. What makes you sure it was premeditated?" Finn asked, chin in her hand.
"Call it intuition," Shane said. "The bartenders said they didn't see anyone unusual, but think about it. Who casually goes around with gloves leaving no fingerprints? Plus, there isn't any abduction that happens by chance. They would've had to watch the victim for some time to make sure the capture went smoothly."
"Plus I've seen the pictures of the victim and honestly…"
"DAMN! I was attracted to that beautiful man, and I'm into girls!" She said with her hands on her waist. "He strikes me as the kind of person who would get creepy fan letters."
"I think it's a crime of passion," she continued, softer now, stirring her coffee. "They used the chance while he was being assaulted to claim their prize."
She took a sip and frowned with an extra disgusted look on her face. "Ewww. , It's fucking cold. This just isn't my fucking week!" She screamed as she stormed out of the station, Finn close behind.
…..
Mrs. Dara had been frozen in the house the entire week, unable to process anything. After the station, Liz had gone straight to her mother's room and stayed there.
"Mom? It's me, I brought lunch." Liz stepped in with a tray, finding her mother on the bed, dead eyed and staring at the door.
"Mom? Please," Liz breathed, setting the tray down and sinking to the floor. "We'll find him. Be strong enough to scold him when he comes back, okay? Please." Tears slipped down her face as she buried her head in her mother's lap, her voice cracking.
Something flickered in Mrs. Dara's eyes. She reached out, cupped Liz's head, and began to cry too. Both of them dissolved into the same helpless sob.
Images kept replaying in Mrs. Dara's mind, Vinny, blood pooling around him. In that moment the worst enemy was not a person but her own imagination.
…..
Later, Liz moved through town in a white tee and blue jeans, sneakers slapping the pavement, a stack of flyers in one hand. "Please, have you seen this man?" she asked again and again, stopping strangers in the street.
"That's a man?" one passerby said in shock.
"No. I haven't, sorry," another said, and walked away.
The same sequence repeated: questions, polite refusals. Liz's resolve didn't break, but each negative answer made her shoulders slump a little more.
"What do I do? Vinny, where are you?" she wondered, voice swallowed by the city.
...
Snoring filled the living room as Vinny lay in Griffin's arms. His mind raced. He wasn't afraid, just disoriented, torn between staying or running.
"Mom and Liz may be angry right now. After all this happened after they warned me."
"I need to go home." He looked at the sleeping Griffin and flashed him a loving gentle smile. "I will thank Griffin later."
They'd dozed off on the sofa after the movie. Quiet as a breath, Vinny shifted, eased his body from Griffin's warmth, and slipped toward the door. He fumbled for the key, heart not pounding but fingers jittery. He tried to open the door without making a sound. He didn't want to disturb Griffin.
The key refused to go in, the metal protesting slightly, and then a voice, smooth, soft, close stopped him.
"Come back here, my love. Don't waste your strength on pointless things."
Vinny let his hand fall from the knob. He turned around and said "I'm just worried my mom will be furious with me. I need to go home now"
Bowing his head slightly, he said "Thank you for everything."
"That's no problem at all, I mean if that's what you want. "Griffin said as he further relaxed into the sofa.
"Random question though, what would you be returning to?" Griffin said with a yawn. "Back in school, I knew everything about you, all too well."
He paused. "I don't know what happened when you deleted your ClickChat account, but it must have been bad. Your confidence, your style, everything changed. Is that a life you want to go back to?"
Vinny's throat tightened. He felt those lost months like an ache behind his ribs.
"At the shop," Griffin went on quietly, "I noticed you. Always lost in your own thoughts, every time with that same sad look on your face." He sighed. "Do you want to go back to the world that made you so sad? Do really need to go back to that?"
Griffin's tone softened. "I know you like me and I love you. Here I will protect you from everything. I'll make sure you never feel that way ever again. I will show you how to love yourself just as much as I love you." For a moment his face was radiant with earnestness.
Then something colder slipped in. "Or you could go back to whatever broke you the way it did, to the world that makes you uncomfortable and anxious." His voice went distant, measured. "Is that really what you want?"
Vinny closed his eyes and bit the inside of his lip until the metallic taste came. He clenched his fist, then let it relax. Confusion washed over him. Gratitude and confusion tangled together. Griffin offered safety, warmth, a balm for wounds he wasn't ready to acknowledge and the memory of the life he'd tried to keep forever at the back of his mind. Messy, dangerous, and utterly heart wrenching, which tugged at him.
Stay and be protected, Griffin promised. Leave and return to a past that break his mind or destroy him. Vinny's head filled with whispers, the shop banter, the sudden quiet, the hurt, the disappointment he could always perceive behind his mother's and sister's eyes.
With tears flowing down his face, Vinny turned slowly. He didn't reach for the door again and he didn't do or say anything. Instead he walked back to the sofa where Griffin lay with one arm extended, palm up, inviting him in, giving him a place to lay.
Vinny curled in, pressing his head against Griffin's chest. His body fit the warmth like a cozy shelter. He could feel Griffin's heartbeat beneath his ear, steady and slow. It soothed him, but it did not answer the question that hummed louder in his mind.
Was he doing the right thing?