Chapter Ninety Seven
...
Warren woke up early, his brain immediately honing in on the cuff in the drawer. He hated that as a child, he had wondered what it would feel like to wear one. As a child, he had the excuse of curiosity, but now he was almost an adult and child-like curiosity wasn't an excuse anymore.
Most of his friends, and even Layla had worn a cuff without a problem, but every time he thought of it, his heart raced and all he could think of was his father, sitting across from him in Maxville's Super Penitentiary. Moving over Layla as carefully as he could, Warren headed to the bathroom, trying to think of anything other than the cuff in the drawer.
Unsuccessful in that endeavour, Warren washed his hands and dried off with a burst of power, heading back into Layla's bedroom and opening the drawer. The sound of his heart beating - or the churn of emotions he was feeling, but couldn't hope to name - woke Layla.
She sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes before looking at him with a frown. "Warren?"
"I'm going to try it."
"Try what?" Layla asked.
"The cuff."
"Shit. Warren, are you - are you sure?"
He nodded firmly despite his own reservations. Layla took his hand and squeezed gently. Warren was glad he wasn't going to be doing this alone and squeezed back. Reaching for the cuff, he clasped it on his wrist, the sound far too loud in his ears. There was no gradual weaning, no warning or reprieve. He immediately felt cold, his power gone with nothing more than a click of a clasp. Warren started hyperventilating at the feeling, at being vulnerable, at being closed off, at being less than what he was. Struggling to breathe because of his own damn body was worse than being stuck in one of Speed's vortexes.
"Hey. Warren, look at me. You're okay. I'm here with you, and I promise I won't let anything bad happen. I've got the key right here, okay?" Layla said, cupping his cheek, the key's cool metal pressed against his skin.
Her promise, her presence, had him breathing again, air rushing into his body and filling his grateful lungs. Warren opened his eyes and looked at Layla, tilting his head to rest in her palm. "Okay. I'm okay."
"Don't lie, Warren. I can feel you, remember?"
"What?"
Layla frowned at his question, wondering if it was too early for him to remember the painful process they'd gone through to brand each other. "I can feel you. Our wrist brands," she added.
"Yeah, but... Layla. You can feel me," Warren said emphatically.
Layla's frown deepened, not understanding. "I know, I just said that."
"Layla. I'm wearing a cuff. You can still feel me," Warren said. "That means my power's still working," he added when Layla still didn't comprehend what he was trying to say.
"I can... holy Super fucking Jesus. Wait, no, you have to try! Like, try to power up," Layla said excitedly.
Warren tried to power up, the cuff doing what it was meant to do and his arms flame-free. "Nothing."
"No, no. Try through me."
Warren concentrated, his eyebrows furrowed, and he felt for his power spinning around Layla's wrist. The feel of heat was a stark relief to the cool feeling of his body and Warren basked in it for a moment. Concentrating, he increased the heat until flames spun on Layla's wrist, bright yellow and warmer than their laughter.
There was a knock on the door and Layla draped herself over Warren's shoulders, grinning as his flames died down. "Come in!"
"Layla, Warren. Please get changed and come downstairs. Hyacinth - no, Judge Salt is here to see you," Frieda said, her expression and tone squashing their joy in an instant.
"Is... is everything okay?" Layla asked, getting off Warren and the bed. "Frieda, do we need to run?" she asked.
Frieda shook her head. "Not yet, dear. We'll see what she has to say; we've been friends for over forty years."
"Shit. I've got to call Mum," Warren said, realising that the police had been on the way to her last night.
"Nina's here, too. She spent the night at Honey's, so even if the police had made it to their destination, they would have found an empty house. I mean, they already had a search warrant, so they probably would've broken down the door and searched the house anyway."
Warren undid the cuff and tugged on his jeans and shirt, tucking his phone into his pocket and handing Layla's to her once she'd pulled her sunflower sundress on. He took Layla's hand as followed Frieda downstairs, moving his mouth so he was close to Layla's ear. "Stay by the window, we'll get out and to the Hive before anyone can stop us, okay?" he whispered, Layla nodding.
"Warren, are you okay?" Nina asked, pulling him into a hug as soon as she saw him.
"I'm fine. Are you all right?"
"Fine. Honey invited me over for an impromptu girls' night last night. Well, what I assumed was impromptu, but was apparently to stop me from being questioned by the police," Nina said, glancing over at Honey who looked guilty for a moment.
"I also wanted a manicure, so I was also being totally selfish," Honey said, grinning now.
Nina laughed in response, abruptly putting a hand over her mouth to muffle the noise, and Warren noticed the red colour on her nails.
"Two police officers were hospitalised after their car crashed last night. They'll both survive, but they won't be able to return to work for several weeks thanks to broken limbs and severe whiplash. No one except them and I know about the search warrant they requested," Hyacinth added.
"We can handle that."
"No. You can tell the truth. Now, what's going on?" Hyacinth asked, staring down the two teenagers just like she had stared down hardened villains and criminals in her courtroom. "It takes a lot of work to become a judge and while I can help fast-track certain things like Victor's divorce and application to become Craig's guardian, it's completely different when the law is broken. Especially when six people have been murdered and two police officers have been injured."
"Wait, what?" Nina asked, looking to Layla and Warren. "How are six people dead?"
"Five were in a car crash and burnt to death; the other one was in a house fire," Honey answered.
"Okay, and why are you suspects for this?" Nina asked in confusion.
"Because I'm Baron Battle's son and have his powers," Warren said, folding his arms over his chest.
"The car crash people had alcohol in their system and in the boot of their car, which resulted in the subsequent explosion. The truck driver was the only other person there, and Warren was with me that night," Layla said.
"And the house fire?" Hyacinth asked.
"The guy came into the restaurant and was a dick to Mei Ling, but that doesn't mean I had anything to do with it, just like no one else I work with was responsible for his death. Everyone spent the rest of the night consoling Mei Ling because of that dickhead, including me. I was at work when he died," Warren said.
"You both seem to know a lot about these deaths," Hyacinth said pointedly.
"Yeah, because they were in the news for ages and supers were automatically blamed, so we took an interest.
"Besides, Warren has his father's powers, but he has no motive for the six people's deaths, and no ability to use his power at a distance. So how on earth is he a suspect for this beyond having his father's powers? Did these police officers actually find anything or did they just make assumptions because of his parents and powers?" Layla asked pointedly.
Hyacinth was silent for a long moment, watching them and waiting for them to break. When neither did, she looked to Layla curiously. "Have you thought about a career in law?"
"Uh. No."
"Think about it, you're very convincing, especially when you believe what you say. Now, that's not to say I believe you. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. One more mention of you - either of you - and I'll drive you to the police station myself."
"There won't be any mention of us," Warren said. "We're just teenagers."
"Age is no excuse nor an alibi," Hyacinth said sternly.
"We'll keep that in mind next time we want to kill a bus full of people," Layla said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"I'll see you at home later tonight, Mum. Come on, hippie, you're meant to open the Hive in half an hour," Warren reminded her, taking Layla's hand and leading her to the front door without the adults protesting.
"Bye," Layla said over her shoulder, squeezing Warren's hand so tight their fingers turned white.
"Breathe, hippie. Wait until we're at the Hive to have a breakdown," Warren said as he sat in the driver's seat, glancing from the house to his girlfriend.
"Okay. Drive fast," Layla said tightly.
"What if we're stuck behind a bus full of people?" Warren asked, smirking.
"We'll - hic - kill them," Layla said, laughing between hiccups. "We've gotta - hic - stop killing people that - hic - go to your work."
"Yeah, no shit," he muttered, sighing. "Adam? Hey, Adam, wake up!" Warren called.
"I'm awake, shuddup," Adam muttered. "I've been awake since five, you lazy - "
"Yeah, yeah. Did you hear all that shit with Hyacinth?"
"'Course I did. I've been building a blackmail case against her since five; what do you think I've been doing?"
"How'd you know?"
"Checked the police detective's phone log to see who they'd called for a search warrant: Judge Hyacinth Salt. Notorious for fast-tracking divorce applications, legal guardian applications, and apparently, search warrants. Her only condition is that no one is harmed while the police conduct their searches. If anyone breaks that condition, they can't even get a Justice of the Peace to witness a form being signed for months. She's fucking thorough about blacklisting people, that's for sure," Adam said, sounding impressed.
"What have you got for blackmail?"
"Apart from the fast-tracking, not much, and fast tracking's done all over the country. It's why it's taking so long: I've been digging back to the 70s. Clean as a proverbial whistle."
"Shit. Forget it, Adam. We'll get Donny to work on her if we have to," Warren said.
"Damn. I like Hyacinth."
"Yeah, same."
"If you're going to the Hive, take a left here. There's cops on the normal route, and you're driving without a licenced driver."
"I fast-tracked through Sky High's driving lessons," Warren replied but turned left anyway.
"Thank you, Adam."
"You're welcome, Lay. Someone appreciates my efforts," Adam said with an indignant and mocking tone.
"Appreciate my fist in your face," Warren muttered.
Adam laughed and ahead of them, the traffic light turned red. "Good luck getting any greens today, asshole."
"Oh, hippie, look," Warren said, nodding to his rearview mirror.
Layla turned around and burst out laughing at the tourist bus behind them.
...
Ethan frowned at the photoshopped image of a bus on fire that Adam sent through the group chat, utterly confused as to what it meant or represented. Before he could respond, another message arrived.
Zach: ?
"You can't use symbols to ask questions, Zach! That's how miscommunication occurs," Ethan added.
"They'll get it this time around, it's a direct response to the message that was just sent. If it was three hours and five conversations later, then I'd see your point, but not for this," Zach argued, their phones alerting them to Layla's laughing emoji and Warren's response of 'later'.
"Hmm. Adequate debate, I'll concede."
"Are you practicing for the debate team?" Anita asked, looking between them curiously.
"No. We're practicing for our first fight," Zach replied, sounding proud of all things. "Arguing on smaller things like this means I'll actually get my point across concisely and won't fold like an accordion at the first sign of confrontation."
"Okay. I'd like to know how that goes for you. Usually, fights occur when there's too much emotion involved and that could skew your results," Anita pointed out.
"That's a good point. We'll have to work up to something you're more passionate about," Ethan mused.
"I'm passionate about question marks!" Zach said.
"Said with an exclamation mark," Ethan said, grinning.
"Why are we talking about punctuation over breakfast? It feels more suitable for a dinner discussion," Richard added with a grin as he entered the kitchen, kissing Anita's cheek and then Ethan's and Zach's. "We seem to be missing a child."
"Heidi's sleeping in; she's going through another growth spurt. Though, if that's the time, she'll have to get up soon if she's going to make Stevie's birthday party," Anita said, checking her watch as well before standing and heading upstairs.
Richard smiled and looked to the two boys. "Sleep well?"
"Not bad. Eth was muttering about tax stuff in his sleep, though."
"Tax season is coming up, but you shouldn't be having nightmares about it for at least four more years," Richard said, stealing the last of Anita's toast and looking to his son.
"I don't even remember what I dreamt about," Ethan said, shrugging.
"Hmm, okay. Try not to worry about the adult stuff until you're an adult. I'd give an arm to not worry about some of the things I worry about," Richard said with a laugh.
"But then you'd worry about your arm," Zach said, grinning.
Richard chewed his toast and conceded with a nod. "You're probably right. Have a good day, I'll be back after work," he said, wiping toast crumbs off his mouth before kissing their cheeks and ruffling Zach's hair. He met Heidi and Anita on the way out of the house, kissing them too, and hugging Anita warmly. "I'll bring takeaway home for dinner so you don't have to worry about cooking or dishes tonight, Annie," he said.
"Thank you, Richard. I'll see you at work," Anita said, brushing crumbs off his shirt and kissing his cheek. "Love you."
"Love you, too. Bye kids, be good!"
"Bye!" Zach and Ethan chorused, Heidi waving goodbye.
"All right. Do you have your present for Stevie, Heidi? You should have some breakfast before you go, just to make sure you have something other than junk and sugar today. Did your father eat my toast?" Anita asked with a sigh, already knowing the answer.
Heidi put another two slices of bread in the toaster, giggling at Anita's expression.
"We'll have to eat it in the car. Do you have a spare toothbrush, Heidi? You can brush after eating; I'll bring a cup for you to rinse and spit," Anita said, looking at the time and determining how long it would take to get to Stevie's in weekday holiday traffic.
"There's a super fight scheduled on 30th Street at nine o'clock; don't go that way," Ethan added.
"Damn, that's the fastest way. Okay, Heidi, we'll have to leave now."
Heidi slathered the last of her toast with peanut butter and handed Anita's dry toast to her. Anita sighed, but supposed it wouldn't be the first time she'd be eating dry toast, and guided Heidi out to the car.
"Love you!" Zach called loudly, the sentiment returned by both women before the door closed. "Why'd you lie?" he asked Ethan.
"Hmm?"
"You always remember your dreams. So why'd you tell Richard you didn't remember?"
"I was working out tax requirements for the Hive while I was sleeping, and it wasn't the business side; there's a different tax brackets for villains. I didn't want Dad to know."
"Good idea; it'd probably kill him faster than the cholesterol. So why's there a different tax bracket for villains?"
"Mostly because they get government funding for a lot of their weaponry, so it gets taxed differently than the usual lab experiments or research."
"Wait, government funding for their weapons?"
"Of course. Who do you think designed the Army's latest laser guns?"
"I thought they, I dunno, employed people to do that?"
"Sometimes, they do. Especially if the Commander and Jetstream kill the villain, but most of the time, villains have their weapons patented and their patents become the property of the government once they're incarcerated. There's a clause in the funding grant applications that their research and designs belong to the government, too, if they're defeated or incarcerated."
"Let me guess: it's in the small print?"
Ethan smiled. "Of course, where else?"
"I swear, you're the only person who enjoys reading the small print."
"There's a lot of important information there. Just because it's small, it doesn't mean it should be overlooked," Ethan said, shrugging.
"I know, but enjoyment from reading the small print should be, like, a super power or something."
Ethan stared at his boyfriend for a long moment before bursting out laughing, drawing Zach in close to kiss him. "I love you."
"I know. Love you, too," Zach said, glowing.
...
"You're thirty minutes over your allocated work time, darling," Connor announced, bringing a plate of food into Victor's office with Elijah giggling from where he was held under his arm and Elliot clinging to Connor's neck like a chubby sloth.
"I know, but I need another... hour?" Victor said hopefully, scanning through the rest of the file quickly to make his estimate.
"Why? It's meant to be your day off," Connor added.
"Because I love Hyacinth like an Aunt, but as a judge, she's completely biased. If anyone is related to a super, she acts as though they're already guilty. She doesn't mean to do it; Hell, I don't even know if she's aware she's doing it. But it means extra work to convince her they're innocent, even if the evidence is staring her in the face. Or extra work to convince the next judge when I have to appeal the decision."
"Why has nobody brought her up on it?" Connor asked in surprise.
"I've tried, but she says I'm being a sore loser or how she can't play favourites because she knows me. Which makes it worse for me and my clients, but the opposition freaking loves it. Half of them don't even put a case together anymore, they just dig in my client's history until they find a super somewhere in their family tree. Hyacinth's convicted someone based on their family ties to an overseas super through marriage, they weren't even a blood relative.
"Another hour means I can find out if my client has any super relatives."
"Is that your client?" Connor asked, nodding to a photo of a young boy with a multi-coloured mohawk.
"Yeah. Moved here with his grandmother three years ago after his parents' death in a skiing accident."
"What did he do?" Connor asked, sitting across from Victor with Elijah on one knee, and holding Elliot so he wouldn't lose his grip on his neck.
"According to the evidence, nothing. He wasn't even there, but he met up with his friends after they broke into a pharmacy and was taken along with them. His friends refused to talk, but he tried to resist the police, which made him look guilty. He's being charged as an adult since the drugs that were stolen were high-end pharmaceuticals that are used to make things like speed and ice."
Connor was silent for a moment. "Why did he try to resist?"
"His grandmother's in hospital. He was visiting her when the pharmacy was robbed, in fact. Video evidence isn't always enough," Victor added. Finally realising that he had food in front of him, he grabbed the sandwich and started eating.
Relieved that he didn't have to prompt Victor to eat his food, Connor kept Elijah occupied so he wouldn't grab for his father's file and unwittingly destroy Victor's work. Waiting until the sandwich had disappeared, Connor stood and pressed a kiss to Victor's cheek. "I'll come back in an hour. I don't think the boys can do without their Da's attention for much longer, and I can only take so many repeats of Tangled."
"Thank you. If I find something, I'll be done in less than an hour, and I'll save you from Rapunzel," Victor promised, grinning.
"We'd better leave your Da to it, hey?" Connor murmured, Elijah babbling nonsense in what he assumed was agreement.
A few minutes later, even with the distance between Victor's study and the lounge room, Connor heard Victor swearing black and blue.
With the twins safe in their playpen and seemingly unconcerned with their father's cursing, Connor jogged through the house as fast he dared, stopping in the doorway. "What's wrong?"
"He's going to prison. She won't even hear the evidence with this," Victor said, gesturing to his screen. "I fucking thought he looked familiar, but... shit."
"Who's he related to?"
"His grandmother is the sister of none other than the Plight."
"Plight... You mean the guy from the 70s who was trying to get equality for women's rights?"
"Yeah, by kidnapping the Mayor. The Incredible Genius took a page out of his book, I guess. God, Hyacinth's not going to have a fucking bar of this," Victor groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.
"You build your case, darling. I'll deal with Hyacinth," Connor promised.
"You're not offering to beat up another old woman, are you?" Victor asked, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
"Of course not, darling. I've been told I have a silver tongue, so I thought I'd try talking first."
"Silver tongues should be used for more than talking."
"I thought you wanted an hour?"
"I want you," Victor said, tugging Connor down to kiss him.
In the lounge room, Elliot and Elijah giggled loudly, their noise clear through the baby monitor on Victor's desk. As Victor and Connor pulled apart, the doorbell rang.
"Fucking hell."
"You're kind of sexy when you swear, Victor," Connor murmured, kissing him once more and leaving him breathless before he went to answer the door. Honey waved at him through the peephole and Connor opened the door, trying not to sigh in annoyance.
"I'm not cockblocking you, I'm saving you from years of embarrassment. And a potential trip to the ER; don't ask. Mum will be here in about thirty minutes; impromptu lunch with everyone, including Hyacinth. Though, if Mum knew she was cockblocking you, she'd probably kick herself."
"Why exactly is that?" Connor asked, even as he took the offered bags of food from Honey.
"Betting pool. Ask about it after you've dealt with Hyacinth," Honey added, rising on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I knew you'd be good for him, but damn, I'm good."
"Modest, too," Connor murmured.
She laughed brightly in response. "I know. C'mon, go help Victor get ready while I make sure the twins don't escape their playpen. They've yet to figure out spatial manipulation, but the terrible twos are going to be even more terrible: fair warning."
Connor didn't know what to say to that, something warm in his chest at the idea of being around - of Victor still wanting him around - for the terrible twos. Instead, he left Honey to do whatever she had to do, and headed back to Victor's study. "Honey's here, darling. Everyone will be over in - " Stopping short in the doorway, Connor felt a shiver of desire run along his spine on seeing Victor shirtless and undoing his trousers.
"I heard Honey on the monitor. How are you going to help me get ready?" Victor asked, down to his briefs and a broad smile.
"I... Darling, let me," Connor murmured, moving forward to pick Victor up, holding him close to carry him through the doorway that connected the study and Victor's bedroom. Heading to the bathroom, Connor doubted they'd have enough time for a bath, and stopped in front of the shower, setting Victor back on his feet.
"Stay with me?" Victor asked, even as Connor reached around him to turn on the shower.
"I'll stay as long as you'll have me."
Victor grinned and kissed Connor again, thinking about the blue shirt still hanging in his wardrobe. He still wasn't ready, but he was close, and this would be enough to tide them through until that time. Victor knew that Connor wouldn't mind waiting. Drawing him close with another kiss, Victor stepped back into the shower, guiding Connor along with him, neither caring about the clothes they were wearing.
Honey rolled her eyes and looked at Elijah and Elliot. "Your Da's lucky to have me, always remember that."
Elijah and Elliot both nodded solemnly, then turned back to the TV as Rapunzel and Flynn started singing.
"You could probably recite this movie yourselves. If you could talk, that is," Honey added. "Hmm. Soon. Cool, I'll make sure my phone's charged, 'cause your Da's going to lose his shit. Uh, don't make that your first word."
Thankfully, neither Elijah nor Elliot seemed to be paying her any attention.
Victor and Connor made their way downstairs about ten minutes later, their hair wet and Victor's cheeks flushed as Connor stroked the small of his back.
"Why are you here so early, Honey? It's not just to warn us about the lunch, is it?" Victor asked, focusing on his best friend and seeing the glaze-eyed expression on her face.
"Unfortunately not. Yesterday, Hyacinth was contacted for a search warrant for Warren and Nina's home. She gave the police their search warrant when they mentioned that Baron Battle is Warren's father."
Connor frowned at Honey's words. "What about the rest of the kids? Will they all be vilified because they know Warren? He can't help who his father is, but that doesn't make him his father."
"Yeah, you're telling me," Honey muttered, sighing. "They'll be here soon. Just... Think about what you're going to say, okay? She won't listen if you're not prepared."
Connor nodded, worrying for his own son as well as Ry's friends, wondering if they would all be penalised in Hyacinth's eyes - or any other judge's eyes - just because they knew Warren and his relationship with Baron Battle.
Would Warren always be punished for his father's deeds?
...
Fisher hated hospitals. The smell, the food, the way the medicine made him tired but the nurses never let him sleep. He just wanted to be at home, or better yet, solving his goddamn cases at work.
"Chief's taken us off our cases, Fisher. We need the time to recover," Mia said, a brace around her neck and her arm in a sling, bruises and scrapes littering her body.
"Who's got our cases, then?" Fisher asked, stuck in a bed with a broken arm, cracked sternum, displaced hip, swollen vertebrae, and more cuts from the broken windscreen than he could be bothered to count.
If he'd been wearing a seatbelt, he would've been out of the hospital by now, Fisher mused. If he had to hear how he was lucky to be alive one more time...
"Tyrone and Monty," Mia finally admitted, wincing.
"What?!" Fisher snapped and even over his outrage, he could hear the rapid sound of his heart monitor.
"Jesus, Fisher. Calm down. You'll have a heart attack," Mia said, standing off the chair in concern.
Forcing himself to breathe and calm down, Fisher looked to Mia as she sat down again. "Is anyone looking into the car crash?"
"No. It was an unfortunate accident. There was no one else on the road, Fisher. There were no tremors, no potholes, nothing to cause an accident."
"Exactly, so why the hell did we crash?" Fisher asked.
"Our back tyre blew."
"That's not enough to flip a goddamn car, kid."
"It obviously was this time, with the speed you were going and driving on gravel."
"Did you see a tree?" Fisher asked suddenly.
"You mean the tree we crashed into?"
"Yeah, that one. You ever seen it before on that road?"
"There are plenty of trees along that road, Fisher."
"You've never seen it before, have you?"
Mia was silent for a long moment. "I haven't been on that road in a long time, Fisher. Council put up all those trees a few years back as part of their green initiative; it's probably one of them."
"I was looking at the road, kid. That tree wasn't there before we crashed."
Mia glanced over her shoulder at Fisher's loud words. "People are going to think you're crazy, Fisher. There was no one on that road but us, and definitely no supers to make a tree grow. No super has the power to do that from a distance," she said.
"No one actually knows what supers can or can't do, kid. We only assume," Fisher said.
"No one's done it before."
"There's a first time for everything."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say that was optimistic. Thankfully, I know you better, Fisher," Chief said, amused.
Fisher looked to the doorway where the Chief Of Police stood, Monty and Tyrone a step behind him.
"Good morning, Chief. I'll leave you to it," Mia said, stepping out of his way.
"No, stay. You're Fisher's partner and I'm sure you'll have some insights that will be useful."
Mia nodded and stayed in the room, planning on staying silent and hoping that Fisher would take her advice and not say anything about trees appearing out of nowhere. She had been back to the crash site and the tree looked older than her, it was definitely not a new tree.
"Now, Fisher, how are you feeling?" Chief asked.
"Like I hit a tree," Fisher muttered. "These drugs don't do much for me, sir," he added, a little louder.
"I know the feeling. Now, are you up to answering some questions?"
"From you, or Tyrone and Monty?" Fisher asked, glaring at his former partner.
"I told you he wouldn't cooperate - " Tyrone began.
Chief held up a hand to stop his noise, Tyrone shutting up faster than Fisher had seen before. "I will ask the questions, Fisher. Tyrone and Monty have reports to write up after solving two of your cases."
"Wait, what? Which ones?" Mia asked.
So much for staying silent.
Tyrone looked at her smugly. "Both of the jewellery store robberies in Westville. We found someone matching the perp's description who was in the area."
"It was lunch-time, everyone in Westville was in the area," Fisher snapped. "Who'd you get? Basic description," he added.
"Six foot one, green hoodie, blue eyes."
"African American," Monty added, frowning when Tyrone glared at him.
Mia, five foot nothing and African American herself, crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at the two men. "The suspects for both robberies were Caucasian, five foot six with brown eyes and they were wearing grey hoodies."
"He's already admitted to it," Tyrone sneered.
"Yeah, which phone book did you use for that confession? Westville or Maxville?" Fisher snapped.
"Everyone calm down!" Chief yelled. "Tyrone, Monty, get back to the station. Write up the report including your reasoning for suspecting this person - his confession doesn't count as a reason."
Tyrone glared at Fisher, not daring to glare at Mia, and Monty tugged his partner out of the room before he could make it worse.
"Jesus, Chief. How did he graduate from the Academy?" Fisher asked, groaning in pain as he tried to sit up, his muscles aching and spasming in places he was sure didn't exist before yesterday.
Just like that damn tree.
"He scraped through by the skin of his teeth," Chief muttered, sounding frustrated by it himself.
"He also knows the Commissioner," Mia said as if it wasn't news to everyone else in the room. "He was bragging about it in the lunchroom," she added when both Fisher and the Chief looked to her.
"I will deal with that another day," Chief muttered, looking as though he regretted several life choices. "Now, Fisher. What happened?"
"We were driving out to Steeping Road to question Warren Peace, the navigator directed me the wrong way and then made me to drive into a ditch. Where a tree appeared out of nowhere," Fisher added.
Mia barely refrained from face-palming.
Chief was silent for a long moment, processing all of Fisher's words carefully. "The GPS made you drive into a ditch."
"And a tree appeared out of nowhere," Fisher said with a nod of agreement.
"Were you drinking, Fisher?"
"Of course not. You know I don't drink on the job, Chief."
"How did the GPS make you drive into a ditch?"
"It gave me wrong directions and sent me to the other side of town. The GPS said turn left so I turned left, and I was too distracted to realise I was driving towards a ditch. The car flipped and a tree appeared, which the car then smashed into. I was unconscious after that."
"I radioed for help and dragged Fisher out of the car. I mean, he was already through the windshield, so I didn't have to drag him very far, just out of the fuel puddle," Mia added.
"That explains your face," Chief murmured, glancing to Fisher.
"What about it?" Fisher asked, reaching up to touch his face, frowning when he felt cuts and welts along his face. "Jesus, maybe those drugs do more than I thought they did."
"Maybe they've scrambled your memories; trees don't appear out of nowhere, Fisher. I'll get your official statement when you've had some time to think about it, maybe when you're on a lower dose," Chief said, frowning.
"I know what I saw, Chief."
Mia prayed that she wouldn't be asked, that she could blend into the background and neither one would remember she was there.
Chief turned and looked directly at her. "What did you see, Mia?"
Fuck.
"I was focused on the GPS, sir. I wanted to see what address had been inputted," she added.
"Did you see a tree?"
"The tree was definitely there when we crashed into it, and it's still there this morning," Mia said.
"Was it there before we crashed is the important question," Fisher muttered.
Chief looked from Mia to Fisher, then sighed. "Get some rest, Fisher. Take some time to think about this; I'll come back tomorrow."
Mia waited until Chief was gone and out of earshot before looking to Fisher. "There's no cameras along that road, so there's no way of verifying if the tree was there before the crash. Council doesn't keep a record of trees they plant, just the road name for care and maintenance."
"Who's employed by Council to care and maintain the trees, then?"
"No one. Their budget was slashed last financial year," Mia added.
"Of fucking course. Who had the job before the budget was slashe?"d
"Gardener; retired to Florida."
Fisher sighed. "Don't suppose we have a contact number or forwarding address?"
"It, uh..."
"Spit it out, kid."
"They retired to a nudist colony, one of those commune ones with one phone and address."
Fisher made a noise somewhere between incredulous and annoyed. "Of course they did. We have no jurisdiction - "
"Jurisdiction? Fisher, we have no case! A tree is on the side of the road, we crashed into it, end of story."
"Has anyone retrieved the dash-cam footage?"
Mia sighed. "It was destroyed in the crash, Fisher. You went through the windshield, so did the camera."
"I thought they used the clouds?"
"To store the videos? You mean the cloud. It is used, but there was no way to upload the video while we were driving. Or crashing. It needs an Internet connection or the app connected, at the very least. Which I don't have and I don't think your old Nokia can have."
"It's a good phone and it still works; I shouldn't have to change my phone to suit the rest of the world."
Mia put her free hand up in a peaceful gesture, wincing as it pulled on her sling and brace. "I wasn't judging. Hell, I'm fairly sure your phone is the only thing that survived the crash besides us."
"Good; that's one less expense with what these damned hospital bills are going to be," Fisher muttered, wondering if the hospital would accept a payment plan or something; he wasn't a cop for the money, that's for sure. "Is anyone talking to Warren Peace? Our search warrant's bust, but he's still a suspect for six murders."
"Chief has Tyrone and Monty on it, just like all of our cases," Mia said.
Fisher groaned and wished he was better or at least unconscious. "They're going to fuck it up. Look, can you visit the girlfriend?"
"Layla? Why?"
"Because if their relationship is as... intense as the waitresses said, then maybe she's the one who convinced Warren to kill them. He loves her more than himself, remember?" Fisher prompted.
Mia sighed, unfortunately seeing the sense in his reasoning. "Okay, I'll find her. Off the record though, Fisher. We're both off cases."
"Yeah, but we're not both stuck in hospital. You do this, I'll concentrate on getting better - "
"Mr. Fisher, it's time for your breakfast and medication," a nurse said, stopping by the doorway with a cart.
" - which would be easier to do if I could actually sleep longer than an hour," Fisher added in a mutter, Mia stifling a laugh.
"You get better, Fisher. I'll buy you a burger when you're out," Mia promised, wincing at the sight of the food that was revealed by the nurse.
"You're all right, kid," Fisher said, grinning.
"Yeah, I know. I'll visit you again tomorrow," Mia said, taking her handbag and leaving the room.
On seeing his breakfast, Fisher blanched. "Kid! Bring the burger!" he called loudly, ignoring the nurse's unimpressed expression.
...
End of the ninety-seventh chapter.
