Chapter 2
"So, was he cute?" Jess asked with a grin, leaning on the bar and giving Mel a conspiratorial look.
"There's just no right answer to that question, is there?" Mel chuckled, shaking her head.
"Not really. But was he, Mel?"
"Yeah, Jess. He was pretty cute." She shrugged. "Like it matters since I'll never… see him again," she added quietly as the bar's door swung open. "Julius?" she asked, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Melanie," he greeted her with a smile. Hands behind his back, he crossed the bar, a slight young woman in a well-tailored suit following close on his heels. His smile widened as he pulled his hands from behind his back and presented her with a bouquet of ivory-colored roses. "I didn't know what variety of flowers you favor, so I went with an old stand-by."
"Oh, Julius, they're lovely, but I can't…" Mel grinned shyly and shook her head.
"Not a rose person, hmm? Damn. I knew I should have gone with tulips." He shook his head sadly.
"You really shouldn't have," Mel told him softly, not meeting his eye. Her gaze shifted to the young girl behind him, standing and looking on impassively. "This is Jess," she told Zin, nodding to the barmaid. "And this would be?"
Zin inclined his head politely in Jess' direction before returning his attention to Mel. "This is Lana, my personal assistant." He gently drew her towards Mel and Jess.
"Nice to meet you, Lana," Mel said, extending her hand.
"Lana," Zin murmured when she did not immediately accept it.
Lana's hand shot out and she shook Mel's firmly. "A pleasure, Miss Porter."
"Nice to meet you, too," Mel said, staring down at the tiny hand squeezing her own with more strength than a woman of just around five feet and no more than 90 pounds should have been able to muster.
"Give us a few minutes, child," Zin directed, gesturing for Lana to fall back.
"As you say." Bowing her head, she took several steps backwards before turning on her heel and walking to one of the couches along the far wall. Her manner as she moved was not dissimilar to that of a panther on the prowl.
"Nice kid," Mel remarked quietly, not quite sure what to make of the girl.
In spite of her professional appearance and polite demeanor, shaking Lana's hand had left Mel's skin crawling. She was vaguely familiar, as Julius himself had been, not because she had met either of them before, but because there was a feel about them, something that reminded her of something else entirely. But whereby Julius with his quick laugh and ready smile was charming, Lana with her expressionless face and keen eyes was just unsettling.
"So, you're the knight in a shining three-piece suit who saved our Mel?" Jess asked, smiling winningly at Zin. Attractive, well groomed, obviously moneyed, and possessed of an aura of intelligence and confidence. Mel had finally found herself a keeper, and about bloody time.
"All in a day's work, my dear," Zin assured her, returning her smile with one just as wide before turning his attention back to Mel. "I hope you don't think it forward of me to come here like this," he said simply, offering the flowers again.
And charming, too. "Why don't I put these in water for you, Mel," Jess offered, relieving Zin of the flowers and giving Mel a stern 'do not blow this' look.
"You… do that, Jess," Mel told her, frowning.
"I do have an ulterior motive for being here," Zin confessed quietly to Mel, his eyes twinkling.
Cautious smile in place, Mel asked, "Do you?"
"I was hoping you might be convinced to join me for dinner some time? Perhaps a movie afterwards?"
"As in… a… date?" Mel asked, blinking in surprise.
"Mmm, as in… dinner and a show," Zin told her gently, patting her hand. "Which may, perhaps, lead to other dinners and other shows."
"I… I don't… I'm not sure it's a good idea. Rebound relationships have a habit of not working out," Mel pointing out softly, shaking her head apologetically. "And I did just break up with someone and… I… I wouldn't want to get into a relationship where I might not be…"
"I know. That's why I'm not asking for a relationship," he explained with a shrug. "Call it… an association. I like you, Melanie, and I enjoy your company. I want to get to know you better. Surely there's nothing wrong with that?"
He glanced over his shoulder to where Lana was tapping her foot impatiently. She had not been happy about this deviation from their time-line, especially since she viewed it as being the result of nothing more than a silly whim. Only the fact that Daggon seemed not to have put in an appearance was keeping her anger in check. He scowled warningly at her. Shrugging sullenly, she rose and stalked over to the jukebox, punching up a song. Zin almost laughed aloud at her selection of 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World'. Lana's version of a not so subtle hint that there was work to be done.
Smiling faintly, he returned his attention to Mel. "Dinner. Or just drinks if you prefer. Coffee, even? We can go to an art gallery," he suggested.
"You always this persistent?"
"If I want something, I work until I have it. It's not uncommon," he pointed out.
"Guess not…" she began, frowning. If he wanted something? Not the way most men spoke about women, not to their faces, at least…
"No commitment, Melanie," he pressed. "Just… two people keeping each other company for a few hours. No harm in that. We can even bring Jess here and Lana along as chaperones if you'd like," he offered with a laugh.
"Babysitting is not in my job description, Doctor Zin," Lana pointed out in a low voice that still carried clearly across the bar. Shaking her head, she punched up another song, 'Time is Running Out' this time.
Her hints were getting less subtle. Zin sighed and shook his head, murmuring, "Good help is so hard to find."
Lana's head shot up and she regarded him with a playful grin. She was the best and they both knew it. Shrugging, she walked to the far end of the bar, fishing out her cell-phone. No sign of the Tracker yet, which she considered promising, but her 'optimism' was cautious at best. She would believe that he was not planet-side at about the same times as they had achieved their objective and returned home.
Mel glanced over to Jess, who was making a point of staying at the far end of the bar and pretending to mind her own business. Her resolve was starting to falter. He really did seem like a sweet guy, and very charming. Handsome, too, and a professional. Definitely not in the mold of the jerks she usually dated. And there was that indefinable something about him…
She gave Zin a slight smile and nodded. "I'd like to get together with you some time, Julius. It would be fun."
"Yes," he agreed, nodding. "It will be. When is good for you?"
"Um…"
"Her Wednesday evening is wide open," Jess announced cheerfully, rejoining them.
"Is it now?" Zin asked, smiling at the young matchmaker. He liked her and not just because she seemed intent on advancing his cause. "And what time is best for Miss Porter, do you think?"
Mel groaned softly.
Jess ignored her. "Eight would be just wonderful, Doctor Zin."
***
"So, how is John Doe doing?" Vic asked Doctor Jenny Wyatt as they walked.
"He says his name is Daggon, and he was a lot better once we got him into a general population. Look at this."
She led him into a large day-room where people sat around individually or in small clusters. Daggon was sitting in a corner, engaged in animated conversation with a girl of perhaps 13.
"The girl is Karen Jackson. She's been selectively mute since she was eight," Jenny told Vic, shaking her head.
"Whoa… So, what's wrong with… Daggon?"
"Not a clue. My initial diagnosis was autism based on his problems communicating. But…" She shook her head. "Hey, Daggon!" she called.
His head shot up and he smiled and waved. Speaking a few words to the girl, he rose and hurried over to them. "Hello, Doctor Jenny. My friend," he greeted Vic.
"You remember this gentleman, Daggon?" Jenny asked.
He nodded. "Met… last night. Crime scene."
"That's right." She nodded, smiling and patting his shoulder. "This is Victor Bruno, Daggon. He's a Detective, a police officer."
"Victor Bruno." He nodded, smiling. A police officer. Wonderful. He could definitely make good use of an association with a local police officer. "I am Daggon."
"Call me Vic. It's nice to meet you, Daggon," Vic told him, offering his hand. This guy was obviously not all there, but he was worlds away from the man he had met last night. It was uncanny, how quickly he had improved. And not a trace of alcohol or drugs in his system, either, or any sign of head trauma. Very strange.
Daggon shook Vic's hand as Jenny had taught him to and smiled.
"And how is Karen today, Daggon?" Jenny asked softly.
"Happy." He smiled widely. "Karen is happy. Karen… promise, talk every day. Many time." His smile faded slightly. "Karen need talk. Very sad, most time."
"Yeah, yeah she is, Daggon, but if she'll talk to us, we can help her."
"She will talk. She promised." He smiled happily and waved to the girl. When she had waved back, he looked down at Jenny again. "Daggon leave now?"
Jenny sighed. "Daggon, I told you. We need to keep you here for two whole days. Then we are going to find a place for you to stay."
He frowned and shook his head. "Must leave. Now," he told her firmly.
Vic shifted slightly, wondering if the clearly agitated man was about to strike out at Jenny.
"I can't let you leave, Daggon," she told him gently, obviously unfazed. "There are laws."
He shook his head, frustrated tears in his eyes. "Not dangerous, not take life. Let go," he pled.
"Hey, it's just one more day," Vic told him gently.
"Long time," he sighed, shaking his head. "Very long. Too long. Now."
"Tomorrow," Vic told him firmly, surprised by his obvious distress. "You can handle it for one more day, I'm sure."
Karen approached them, her expression angry. "You made Daggon sad," she announced, scowling at them and wrapping her arms around his waist.
Daggon hugged her back, closing his eyes. "Not their fault, Karen. No anger. No anger…"
"No anger," she repeated quietly, nodding. "Yeah, I know. Anger is bad. It turns inward, turns you inward…"
"Yes," he agreed, nodding firmly. "No anger, Karen."
"Why don't we let you two get back to the conversation you were having," Jenny suggested gently.
Daggon frowned but nodded. "Yes. Come, Karen," he said, ushering her away.
"Wow, he really bonded with that girl," Vic observed as they walked back to Jenny's office.
"What amazes me is that she bonded right back." Jenny shook her head. "He did what we've been trying to for five years and failing at."
"What did he say to her?"
"He didn't. He just walked up to her and took her hands in his and five seconds later, she's telling him her life-story."
"Weird."
"I don't know, Vic. There is something about him for sure. I mean, his working vocabulary has gone up by several hundred words overnight. He listens, he mimics, he remembers." She shook her head. "It doesn't work like that!"
"Obviously it does in his case. So what's his story?"
"No clue. Like I said, I initially was thinking autism between the communication problems and the echolalia, but… those are both almost gone. With the exception of verbal skills and the fact that he's completely illiterate, his IQ scores are off the charts. Call MIT and look for a missing physicist because this guy is…" She shook her head. "He's something else."
"What about his fingerprints? Anything on that yet?"
"He has none, Vic."
Vic frowned. "What, he had them burned off?"
She shook her head. "Not as far as we can tell. His hands and fingers have no lines, either. Hell, his entire body is devoid of distinguishing characteristics. Not so much as an appendix scar. It's like…" She shook her head again. "Never mind."
"What?" Vic pressed, frowning.
"Like he's… an unfinished statue or something. Like the details still need to be added, or the sculptor just didn't know what he was doing." She shrugged, not about to tell Vic that she felt that the same was true of the patient's personality. "Got to be some genetic thing."
Vic nodded. "What else can you tell me about him?"
"Not much. Hates the air conditioner and doesn't much like clothes, either."
"Beg your pardon?" Vic asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He flatly refused to wear them until I told him that it was the rule."
"Huh. What else?"
"Well, he says he had a wife and daughter who were murdered several years ago."
"Ouch."
"I think that's why he gravitated towards Karen like he did. She must remind him of the girl in some way."
Vic nodded. "Makes sense, I guess."
She nodded. "My guess, and it would be a guess, is reactive psychosis. Something happened that pushed him over the edge and now he's coming back down from that."
"He dangerous?"
She shook her head quickly. "No." Usually she would have reserved judgment, giving an answer along the lines of 'probably not'. With Daggon, she was, strangely, confident in being equivocal.
"So you let him go after the observation's over? What happens then?" Vic asked, concerned about a man who so obviously needed help of some sort.
"Well, if we can't find his family, we put him into a half-way house, get him a job, vocational training, some sort of counseling…"
Vic nodded. "Can I talk to him?"
"If you'd like, sure." She nodded and rose. "Always assuming I can peel him away from Karen."