Despite the lack of sleep, Arnold threw the ashes back into the bag, placing the little hair right at the top for easy finding. He threw his jacket on and went searching for his shoes while Maria watched.
"Are you seriously going out again? Right now?" Her eyes scanned over to the clock. "It's four in the morning."
"I know a guy, he'll be up," Arnold replied as he slid his feet into his steel-toed boots.
"Man, I have to be at work in four hours, mind dropping me off at my place before you go?" Maria yawned, stretching her arms behind her back. "Hopefully I'll get a few hours of sleep before I have to work two shifts.
She was cranky, Arnold noted. "You didn't have to stay, you know. I said you could leave, you didn't want to. You said you were 'invested.'"
Maria had her arms crossed and gave him a look of pure annoyance when he used finger quotes. "I am invested, doesn't mean I can miss work though. I'd rather not fall asleep around open flames, you know."
"Fine," Arnold said, walking out of his room. He wasn't annoyed that he had to drop her off; it was nice having company for once and- if he was being honest- he didn't really want to go through this alone. The thought of going back to solitude wasn't appealing.
She followed him to the car and they drove in silence. When they got to her apartment building, she sat in the car and looked at him, waiting for him to say something. Despite the awkward silence, he wouldn't give in. "Are you mad at me or something?"
"Nope," Arnold replied, hands on the wheel, eyes forward.
"Really?" She said, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Because it feels like you are. Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go to work. There's nothing I can do about that."
"Then go," Arnold said, reaching across her and opening the car door.
She shook her head and left, slamming the door behind her. Arnold was about to drive away when she was at his window, knocking. He rolled it down.
"You owe me, by the way," She said angrily, hand out and palm flat. "You said you'd pay me."
Arnold reached into his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. "How much?"
Maria looked at him for a long time. He had a hard time reading her feelings, but she didn't look as angry as before. She looked disappointed if anything. Her eyes wouldn't let him leave. She nodded, as if he had said something to her, and put her hand on the windowsill. "Never mind."
"No, how much?" Arnold asked, leaning out the window. She was walking away.
"I don't want your money," She said, her tone sad. Arnold called her back a number of times, but she didn't come back.
Arnold pulled up to a dilapidated office building. He scanned the windows at the base of the building, trying to detect any signs of life. He smirked when he saw a light flicker on. Parking the car, he climbed the crumbling stairs and found the doors were left unlocked, so he let himself in.
The hallway was dark and cold with tiles missing from the floor and exposed wiring from the lights, but Arnold was no longer fazed by this. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way to the stairwell. It was dark so he pulled out his phone and lit his way down to the basement. He opened the big metal door and found the clean white hallway brightly lit. "I knew he'd be here."
At the end of the hallway he came to another big, solid door. When he knocked, the sound echoed through the stark hallway. He heard keys fumbling in the lock, and when the tumblers finally clicked into place, the heavy door creaked open just enough for the man inside to peek out. He was short, scrawny, and pale with round glasses and messy blonde hair that was almost as white as his skin. If there was anyone who needed to get out more, it was Brian. He pushed the dirty round glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked through the sliver of doorway at Arnold, who stood there with his hands out to the side. "Surprise."
"Oh, fuck no," Brian said before attempting to close the door in Arnold's face. He didn't see Arnold slide his boot into the cracked door. He was glad he thought ahead and went with the steel-toes, as Brian repeatedly slammed the door into his foot, trying desperately to get away from Arnold. After a few minutes at this feeble attempt, Arnold rolled his eyes and grabbed the door, forcing it open. Brian stumbled out of the room and stood in the doorway, defeated. "What the hell do you want from me, Arnold?"
"I need your help," Arnold replied stepping into the brightly lit lab. Brian followed him, slamming the door behind them.
"Why the fuck would I help you?" Brian asked. Arnold took his coat off and threw it on the nearest table, which Brian promptly took off the table and threw it back at him. "We don't work together any more, remember?"
"Oh come on, you can't still be mad at me," Arnold said, pulling himself up on the table, swinging his legs. "It's not like I got you fired."
"Yeah, whatever," Brian said, going over to his desk, pulling his chair out and sitting down. "You were a factor."
"I'm still not one hundred percent sure why you think that, but okay," Arnold replied. He really didn't know why Brian hated him so much all of a sudden. He didn't do anything to get him fired from the police force; in fact, he barely worked with him. Brian was a forensics guy and Arnold focused his life on getting kids off the street. Brian had more intense cases. He saw some of the worst stuff in his department. He dealt with murder cases, rapes, kidnappings, everything Arnold couldn't stomach. He may look like a wimp, but Brian helped put the worst people behind bars. Arnold just tried to keep people from committing the crimes in the first place.
"What do you want from me?" Brian asked, anger etched into his face. "I don't owe you a god damn thing."
"No, you don't," Arnold said, fishing in his pocket for the bag. He took it out and placed it on the table next to him, "But you're a smart guy, and I know you can't pass up this opportunity."
Brian looked at the bag next to Arnold with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. "What do you mean?"
"Look, this isn't an official…investigation, if you will. The police aren't involved. In fact, it's probably better if they aren't involved because this is an old case that has been deemed closed. I'm reopening it."
"Why?" Brian asked, wheeling his chair over. Arnold had him.
"I'm not going to tell you why until you help me out, okay?" Arnold said, snatching the bag up off the table when Brian reached for it. "But I need you to run some DNA tests for me."
"They won't get back for a couple of months," Brian said, leaning back in his chair. "I'm back-logged."
"With what?" Arnold asked with a laugh. "You don't work for the cops anymore, what could you possibly be doing?"
"That's none of your god damn business," Brian said, standing up angrily and walking to the door. He opened it and pointed into the hallway. "Leave the bag and get out. Now."
"How about this," Arnold said, standing up. "What can I do to make this your top priority? What would it take for me to get the DNA results back ASAP?"
"For you to leave me the fuck alone," Brian said, still standing with the door open. "If you never come back and never bother me again, plus give me a thousand bucks, I can get you you're results in a week."
Arnold was shocked. He didn't think Brian would be willing to help him out this easily, but at the same time he was risking him as a potential resource in the future. He didn't ask for his help much, if ever these days, but he was never going to stop searching for Helga. Who knows, maybe he would need some more tests in the future? Would Brian even be willing to help him in the future?
Probably not. "Done."
Arnold tossed him the bag and went to leave. Before Brian could shut the door on him, Arnold put his fist on the door. He went into his wallet and fished out $500 dollars and put it in the pocket of Brian's stark white lab coat. "That's half now. If you do what I ask, you will get the other half. If you do anything to mess this up, if you don't do what we've agreed upon, or if it takes longer than a week, I'm coming back for that. With interest. You got me?"
"Fuck off," Brian said, pushing Arnold into the hallway and slamming the door. Arnold knew he wouldn't mess this up. He was smart and it was a hell of a lot easier doing what Arnold asked and getting it over with than fighting him on it. Arnold would never kill him, but… he could justify a little threat of violence if it meant finding out what happened to Helga.
Work was a bitch. Arnold could barely focus on his stupid paper work with everything that just happened swimming around in his brain. He couldn't wait to figure out what was in those ashes.
"Shortman," Wolfgang's voice snapped Arnold into reality and he saw his boss standing there with a happy look on his face. "You still going to Good Food for lunch?"
"Yeah, sometimes," Arnold said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Probably not today though."
"No?" Wolfgang asked, clearly disappointed. "I heard a bunch of the guys were going, you should join them."
"I'm not hungry," Arnold replied, wanting to be left alone. Wolfgang looked at him for a long, awkward time. Arnold couldn't stand it. "Just kidding, I'm starving."
"That's what I thought," Wolfgang said, slapping Arnold on the shoulder. Arnold rolled his eyes as he walked towards the door, his boss watching him the entire time. He felt like a child.
When he entered the diner, he saw the guys all sitting at the bar with their lunches, chatting happily. A clenching feeling in his chest accompanied Arnold as he slid onto the stool next to Gerald and the conversation stopped. The guys looked at him- true, he had been eating lunch there, but rarely did he join in the conversation…or even really sit with them. Most of the time he put a buffer of one stool between himself and them, along with shoving his headphones in his ears. Today, however, he decided to join in.
"Hey," he said with a nod. The rest of the guys nodded back, gave a little wave, or scoffed at him. Gerald, however, turned towards him. "Man, I'm not really welcome anywhere these days."
"Well you can't really blame em, can you?" Gerald said, waving a waitress down. Arnold noticed it wasn't Maria. "How's it going man?"
"Ah, you know," Arnold said with a shrug as the waitress brought over a coffee for him. "Better, for sure, but still not great."
"Yeah, but better is good," Gerald said, taking a long drink of his own coffee. The last time they really talked was when he asked about the ashes, and before that Gerald had pulled him off the roof. Arnold could tell he liked better. "You still thinking about Helga's case?"
"Eh," Arnold said with a shrug. He wasn't about to spill the beans about the stolen ashes. He was waiting for his results. If the ashes were hers… who knows, maybe he'd give up. But for now, given Gerald's reaction when he brought up the subject in the first place, he decided to keep his friend in the dark. "I would like to know what really happened, but I'm not sure where to start. I'm skeptical, but not hopeful… maybe in time I can learn to accept it like everyone else, but we'll see."
"You'll get there, man," Gerald said, slapping his hand heavily on Arnolds back. "Sorry I had to be so rough with you about the ashes. I didn't want you doing something stupid."
"Yeah, you were right though, no need to desecrate any graves." Gerald laughed, but Arnold didn't mention breaking and entering and stealing the ashes worked just as well as grave-robbing. At that moment the kitchen doors opened and Maria came out with a tray full of food. She walked right by Arnold without even looking at him.
Gerald watched as Arnold's eyes lingered on her, following her, before he turned back. "Did…is something going on between the two of you?"
"No," Arnold replied too quickly, and Gerald gave him a suspicious look. "We hung out like…once. But nothing happened."
"Yeah okay," Gerald said laughing, taking another drink of coffee.
"I'm serious," Arnold said, getting the implication from Gerald's tone.
"No no," Gerald laughed, "I believe you. Clearly she's avoiding you like the plague because nothing happened. Maybe something should have happened, then she'd be nicer to you."
Gerald laughed even harder as Arnold shook his head, looking away from him. "It's not like that."
"Hey, come on, man," Gerald said, nudging him. "I'm just messing with you. You need to lighten up! I just want you to be happy."
"I know," Arnold replied, stabbing at his food with his fork.
"Who knows," Gerald said, looking at Maria. "If you make it up to her, maybe she could make you happy."
"I'm not ready for dating, I don't think," Arnold sighed. He didn't like this part of the healing process, as they say. The 'getting back out there' phase, although truth be told there was nothing to really get back out there from. He and Helga never dated. They weren't a couple, so how can you 'get back out there' when there was nothing to begin with? The voice in the back of his mind brought up Helga's voice admitting her love for him, and he felt his stomach clench.
"Everything with time," Gerald said with a knowing smile.
Arnold waited outside the diner in the cold, leaning up against the wall. He was waiting for Maria to end her obnoxiously long shift. He shivered and swore under his breath when he saw tiny delicate snowflakes start fluttering to the ground. Around eleven, she finally came out the back door.
"I'm sorry," Arnold whispered as she walked past him. She jumped and turned around.
"You have to stop this," She said, rolling her eyes when she saw him. "This creepy stalker hiding thing? It's not cute."
"I'm not trying to be cute," Arnold said gruffly. Why did he have to be cute? He didn't want to be cute. He didn't want to like her and he didn't want her to like him. "I just wanted to apologize and give you this."
She turned around and saw him with his hand outstretched, clasping a chunk of change. "I told you I don't want your money."
"I know," Arnold said, advancing towards her with his hand still out. "But you helped me like you promised, and I figured if you keep a promise, I should too."
Her look softened and she took the money, thanking him quietly. They stood in silence as she pocketed the money, not bothering to count it. Arnold smiled and characteristically put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the heels of his feet. "You don't want to know how much?"
"Anything helps," She said with a smile. Arnold went to walk away but felt her hand on the crook of his arm. "Look, I want to say something to you."
"Then say it," Arnold said, trying to keep his tone open and inviting. "I'll listen."
"I was serious when I said I was invested," Maria said, keeping eye contact with him. It made him uncomfortable. She was really, really good at it. "I want to help. I've always thought you were a nice guy, and I want you to be happy."
Arnold didn't reply. He didn't know what to think. She thought he was nice? Was Gerald right? Did she want something to happen?
"But if we are going to be friends," She said, her tone serious. Arnold felt himself breathe again at the word friends. "You have to be better than you were this morning. I have a life, I have things I need to do and things I need to take care of on a daily basis. I can't follow you around like a lost puppy. If I want to go home and take care of my own life, I want to be able to do that without you acting like a child, got that?"
"I got it," Arnold said with a smile.
"I know you don't want to be alone," She said seriously. Arnold was sure she could read minds, because that's exactly how he felt this morning. "But you have to trust me- if I'm going away for a bit, it doesn't mean I'm going away forever."
"I know you wouldn't," Arnold replied. "I get that you have work, and a life. But you're right, I don't want to be alone."
Arnold found himself spilling his guts, the words tumbling out of his mouth without a second thought. "When you said you had to go to work today, I was worried you didn't want to help me anymore. I didn't want to go back to doing this alone; too many of my friends have already left me. I don't want to be alone, but I'm always prepared for people to leave. It seems to be a theme in my life. Perhaps…perhaps I was too defensive too quickly with you."
"I kind of sensed that happened a lot," Maria said, squeezing his arm. "You've had some hard times, haven't you? And not just in the past year."
Arnold nodded, and she mirrored him. "Yeah, I thought so. Well, I've been though some hard stuff too, and I know it takes a while to trust again. Still friends?"
She held out her other hand, not breaking eye contact with him, waiting for a handshake. Arnold grabbed her hand and they shook once. "Still friends."