-1Clarity And Salvation

Chapter Five

"You should tell him, Grace," Stella said, glancing hesitantly at the door and back at her friend. They had been sitting in the older woman's office for the last half hour as Grace admitted what had been bothering her since the previous evening. Stella wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know in her heart. "What if there's something in the files?"

"What was in the files?" Boyd asked, startling both of them. He propped himself up against the doorframe and looked between them more bemused than angry.

Grace took a deep breath and refused to meet his eyes. "There were some files on the desk. Old cases. Interview notes from the unit . . ."

"Do you remember which ones?"

She nodded mutely.

"Why didn't you just say something back at the house?" he asked, his voice gentler.

She remained silent.

"Oh, for gods sake, Grace." The gentle tone had disappeared.

"I wasn't sure." Grace glanced at him hesitantly.

He looked unconvinced. "Anything else?"

They both had their demons, neither very practiced at sharing them with anyone else but over the seven years of working together they had developed a connection and for the most part they didn't keep things from each other, at least not when it mattered. "Grace?"

"Bill's file." She looked away, focusing on something imaginary beyond her window in the corridor.

Boyd closed his eyes, acknowledging that they were about to step into uncomfortable territory for them both, opening them again to look at Stella.

Quietly, the younger woman rose to her feet, smiling reassuringly at Grace before leaving them alone.

Boyd closed the door behind her and settled himself beside her on the couch, his hand resting on the cushion between them, fighting the urge to take her hand in his own. "You've never asked me to look at them."

"I've thought about it." Bill's original case file was somewhere in the basement with the hundreds, probably thousands of unsolved cases. It was ten years ago, before she had even met Peter Boyd, but he knew the circumstances, just not the details.

"But you didn't ask."

"Boyd," she offered wearily. It would have seemed a natural thing - to ask him to read the case notes - considering what they did for a living but something had always gotten in the way and more than anything she didn't want it to become an issue for them or a personal favour.

"Ok." The distant look in her eyes, one he recognised all too well, stopped him pressing any further, at least for now. "Why were the cases on the desk?"

"I've been doing a little moonlighting," she admitted candidly. "Writing a paper."

"I don't give you enough to do here?" Boyd asked lightly. "Did you think I would be angry?"

Grace turned to look at him finally, slightly taken aback by his disappointment. "No, I didn't think you would be interested."

Boyd turned to face her, a sad smile playing on his lips. "Not interested. Do you know how long I've followed your work? I bought the book long before I knew what forensic psychology meant. I asked for you on this team."

"See now you're getting tetchy."

He sighed, realising they were getting nowhere. "Can you write me a synopsis of the cases. I know no names, no details, just so we can figure out why they were taken."

Grace nodded. "Do you want . . .?"

"Not Bill's, no." He fully intended to pull that from the archives himself, quietly and without her knowledge. "Ok." He rose to his feet, trying to suppress the urge to touch her. He failed, his hand lightly squeezing her shoulder, his eyes he hoped expressing far more than their usual banter could.

"Ok, listen up," Boyd announced, walking into the bull pen, gesturing wildly with his hands. "The intruder took files from Grace's place. Not news to some of you I know." He looked pointedly at Stella. "Grace is going to give you a synopsis of which files. Maybe it's something, maybe not," he offered for Grace's benefit. "Tomorrow. Tonight we're calling it a day."

"Great, because I have some serious cleaning up to do," Grace announced coolly.

They all turned to stare at Grace, the same slightly horrified expressions on their faces.

"What?" Spence was the first to articulate their thoughts.

"You're staying with me again," Boyd said firmly.

"I can go home."

Spence shook his head. "What if he comes back. What if it wasn't about the files?"

"Really subtle, Spence," Stella chastised. "At least let us check the house again, make sure it's safe."

Boyd began to pace, his agitation barely controlled. "No security system is going to keep someone out of they really want to get in. The safest place at least until we rule out the importance of the files is with me."

"I agree with Boyd," Spencer interjected.

"I wasn't aware we were polling," Grace commented sarcastically.

"All those in favour of Grace staying with me," Boyd grinned, hoping to lessen some of the tension and bring Grace willingly around to his way of thinking.

Four hands shot up.

"Those against."

She rolled her eyes and headed back into her office, leaving the door open, knowing he would follow, but needing to control her emotions before facing him.

"Grace?" he asked softly, staying in the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"I don't see why I need to stay with you. My house was broken into. It's surely a common hazard of living in the city. The likelihood of him coming back is minute. "

"Yeah. But I'm . . ." he looked at her, confused by what was driving him to react on impulse.

"Concerned?"

"Yeah, about what might have happened if you'd been there."

"So have Stella stay with me." The idea of another night in the room next to Boyd was almost as disconcerting as the thought of a night in the same room. "I promise to go straight home and not leave until morning." Grace forced a smile.

"It's no joke," he said, his voice rising. "Someone broke in. We don't know what they were looking for or whether they found it. They might come back."

"Use your indoor voice, please," she urged, glancing out at the bull pen as he barked at her.

"What am I? Five?" he growled, nevertheless lowering his voice.

"There are times I wonder."

He couldn't suppress a smile. "So why not make a professional visit?"

Her lips quirked up into a smile too as they slipped back into their familiar relationship.

"You keep saying I need to talk."

"You do. To someone. But I don't make house calls."

"Grace, please, indulge me."

"Please? Boyd."

"You know I hate to have to use the word. That should tell you how important this is."

"As for indulge, I do that everyday."

He rolled his eyes. "So?"

She stared at him, unsure exactly what they doing, what would happen to their relationship with each night they spent together, delving into parts of each other they had kept concealed. "You buy dinner."