OUT THERE
Chapter Twenty
"What happens when people open their hearts?"
"They get better."
(Haruki Murakami, 'Norwegian Wood')
Adam took a cab home from the crime lab. The fare used every last dollar in his wallet and a fistful of cents dredged up from the bottom of his bag - but he didn't care. The subway had become too much of an ordeal for him to face in his current state. To hurtle through a dark tunnel, trapped in a carriage with strangers - that was hell, and he would be a gibbering wreck if he tried it one more time.
Not that sitting in the back of the cab felt much better. As it bore him away from the building that he loved, the sense of loss was overwhelming. Part of him knew beyond all doubt that he should have stayed to face the music. Talked to Mac and set the whole thing straight. Let the boss-man send him to a shrink or something - at least that way, he had a chance. Flight was madness.
Unluckily for Adam, wounded pride had joined forces with an unhealthy fear of reprisal and the two emotions were holding his better half prisoner. As the cab drew up outside his apartment block and he stepped out, a full scale battle was raging inside his head.
How could he? How could he ask that?
You know he had his reasons. Just take a look at yourself - you're a mess.
I'm sick, that's all. Sick and tired. He had no right to accuse me.
Are you sure...?
Rain was still in the air; a clinging mist that coated him with fine wet drops. Three... four... five steps took him through the front door.
Are you sure? the voice insisted. Stop and look, okay? Study the evidence...
"Shut up!" he snapped. By the mail boxes, shy Miss Bettany from number thirty two almost jumped right out of her slippers. "Um... sorry. Bad day."
"No problem," she murmured, following him with her wistful eyes as he stepped into the elevator.
Guess she won't be popping by for any more cups of sugar, Adam thought, with a hint of sadness.
The higher he rose, the lower his spirits fell, as though some kind of counterweight was pulling them down. By the time he reached his apartment, he was wallowing in full-blown despair. His better half looked on in disgust. Get a grip, it told him haughtily.
"No thanks. I'm going to get drunk."
A manly solution if ever there was one; and a foolproof way to silence both sides of the battle in his head. Alcoholic oblivion. Sounded like bliss...
He tried not to think about the after-effects that he would suffer in the morning.
"Got a bottle somewhere," he sang to himself as he pulled out his keys. Passing through the door, he locked it behind him with a strange sense of finality. Safe at last.
At the back of his closet, behind his winter boots and his secret stash of comic books, Adam found a bottle of high-class brandy; a humorous yuletide gift from Danny three years ago to 'keep his delicate blood from freezing'. It was still unopened. Truth was, he hated the taste of brandy - but right now, it was the only alcohol to hand and that made it very appealing.
No doubt someone like Sid would own a... what did they call it? A brandy snifter. Adam smirked at the comical word and considered his own options. Beer glass or mug - which was better? The beer glass would hold more - but the mug had a handle. "Who cares if it's ridiculous?" he muttered. "No one's looking." Into his favourite Wile E. Coyote mug went the golden liquid, releasing its pungent vapour as he poured out a shot that was far too big.
He had just settled down to sulk with his drink and his comic books (also liberated from the closet) when, to his alarm, he heard footsteps outside the door, followed by a sharp knock and - oh, horror! - the boss-man's voice.
"Adam. Let me in, please."
X-ray vision wasn't one of Mac's superpowers, but that didn't matter. His tone made it clear; he knew Adam was there. So now the choice was final - send his boss away and seal his fate, or do the right thing after all.
Stepping up to the door, he pressed his forehead against it and closed his eyes. Strange, to think of Mac waiting patiently on the other side.
"Now, Adam."
Okay, not patiently. Adam took a deep breath and used every ounce of will-power that he had left to follow his conscience and open the door.
The two men stared at each other in silence.
"I asked you to wait for me," Mac said at last.
"Yes, well, no doubt Sid told you all about that when he called." As soon as he heard it out loud, Adam knew that his sullen reply was the wrong one. He tried to tone it down as he continued. "Please understand, boss; I just couldn't be there any more. It was too hard."
To his credit, and to Adam's surprise, Mac stayed calm, though his eyes were sharp and there was tension in his bearing. "I did hear from Sid, as it happens. He's worried about you - so yes, he told me why you left. And I'm pretty sure you owe him an apology."
Put like that, it seemed so simple. Adam cringed to think of how he had treated his friend. One hand curled around the handkerchief in his pocket. "I know," he admitted. "I will. Apologise, I mean... As soon as I can. Um... you want to come in?"
Mac stepped over the threshold. Clearly, he had been waiting for the invitation. Like a vampire, Adam thought, feeling dazed by the whole situation. And he hadn't even touched the brandy...
Oh, no. The brandy.
He cast a surreptitious glance towards the Wile E. Coyote mug. Mac followed his gaze and the smell of the fumes.
"Are you really going to drink that?"
Was that humour in his tone? What was going on here? Adam floundered as he tried to explain.
"I was feeling overwhelmed. Too many thoughts in my head, you know? I just - I needed them to stop. Don't tell me you've never done that... Oh, no! Mac, I'm not saying... I didn't mean to imply..."
"No offence taken. I've been known to have a drink or two." There it was again; another reassuring statement that only served to make him feel twice as uncomfortable. "Though never from a Looney Tunes mug. Adam, sit down. We need to talk."
"Aren't we talking already?"
Mac gave him that look - the one reserved for him, and him alone. He perched on the edge of the couch and his boss sat beside him, adopting the classic, angled posture of a counsellor. Uh oh, Adam thought. Here we go...
Breathe... Remember to breathe...
"This is your last chance to set things straight," Mac said. "A 'one night only' deal."
Okay - so far, so good. 'Chance' was an optimistic word and Adam clung to it, nodding obediently.
"I'm offering you a free pass. That's a rare opportunity, so don't waste it, Adam. You can talk about whatever's on your mind - anything at all - and I promise I won't yell."
"But you told Flack..." Adam pressed his lips together. Dammit...
"Yes, I thought as much." Mac fixed the unhappy lab tech with a stern gaze - but true to his promise, he kept his voice level. "What else did you hear?"
"Oh, you know..." Adam muttered, turning bright red. "Nothing much."
Mac looked away for a moment and stared at the window without really seeing it. "Sometimes," he offered quietly, "our first reaction is the wrong one. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
As the words sank in and he saw their double meaning, Adam's heart swelled with hope. "You're saying you were freaked out at the time... sorry, boss; I mean anxious, okay? Just like I was with Sid, and that's why..."
"No need to spell it out."
"No. Thank you." Adam tried out a wary smile that was echoed, briefly, by a gleam in Mac's eye; nothing more.
"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" Mac asked pointedly.
"Yes," said Adam. Start small... "I hit Richard."
"Richard Polson?"
"Yes... but you knew that, right? Sid mentioned it?"
Mac shook his head in silence.
"Oh." Once more, Adam vowed to make amends for ever doubting the man. "And Richard - he didn't...?"
Another head-shake. "Care to explain?"
In a hesitant manner that slowly picked up speed, Adam told his boss what Richard had done to his locker and how he had tracked him down. The change in Mac's demeanour was subtle but the gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. Adam swallowed, full of shame. "It's petty, I know," he confessed. "But I felt so angry. I guess he didn't deserve an attack like that, whatever he did to provoke me. I should have been stronger."
"Adam, it's Richard I'm mad at, not you. You tried to deal with a bully and there's no perfect way to handle that, whether you're a high school kid or a highly trained lab tech." Mac sighed. "As your boss, I'm going to tell you something I suspect you already know. You should have come to me as soon as you saw the eye on your locker." He paused and studied Adam thoughtfully. "As a human being, I would have to say - I understand. Anger can twist us all."
"I know that," Adam's reply was heartfelt. "Even so, I should have found a way to control myself. Like you or Danny."
Mac gave a short laugh. "If we're your benchmark for self-control then it's no wonder you're in trouble."
They smiled together, sharing the simple joke until a new thought occurred to Adam and he stared at his boss in consternation. " Boss... can I ask? The eye. The one on my back, I mean... Did you question him?"
"Richard Polson?" Mac was confused.
"No. The man. Tonight... the one in the alley." His voice shrank to a whisper. "Was it him?"
Once again, Mac's face betrayed his frustration before he could even reply. "So far, there's no evidence to prove that. I'm sorry, Adam. I wish I could offer you more. Flack's with the suspect at the hospital right now, waiting for them to patch him up. He's high on something, which means he's extremely unreliable - but when they left the scene, he was boasting about his little 'fishing trip', much to Flack's disgust."
"He planted the body," Adam guessed, with sudden insight.
"To catch a cop." Mac nodded slowly. It was a terrible thought. "Maybe the girl was dead when he found her; maybe not. It's almost certain that the two of them dragged her into that alley and left her. Then they watched to see what kind of fish their bait would bring."
"That's crazy..."
"Anyone who chooses to embrace violence as a means of entertainment finds the same thing, in the end. Like any other drug, the more you take, the more you need." He narrowed his eyes.
"Then they're hurting people - killing people - for the buzz?"
"It's a motive," Mac sighed. "And sadly not the worst I've heard."
"Tell that to Conrad Valens - or Marissa Kelly. No, wait - you can't. She's dead," Adam muttered fiercely. "I'm glad we stopped them."
"Closure." Mac continued to watch him carefully. "It's an important part of the healing process. Adam - you're the one who brought him down; and I'm proud of you. I should have told you that before."
A warm glow spread from Adam's core but his conscience forced him to ignore it as he shook his head. "No, boss. Your first reaction was the right one - I know that. I caught him; sure - but I'm also the one who left the scene wide open in the first place. What happened to Wallace and Hawkes is my fault."
"Who were you chasing?" Mac asked. "I need to hear your side of the story before I assign any blame."
"Sid really didn't tell you anything, did he?" Adam stared in disbelief.
"He told me where to find you and he told me some details about why you left. The rest, I believe, he trusted me to find out for myself. So, I'll ask you again - what happened, Adam?"
The memory was such a reluctant one that the only way he could coax it back was to close his eyes and step right into it. "I was searching for evidence... doing my job," he breathed. "Wanted to prove that there was nothing wrong with me. Guess I blew that..." Mac kept silent, and he fell back into the moment, lifting his head as the ghost of a wind slipped by him. "There was... an echo. A scent. I looked up and there they were. At least..." He opened his eyes at last and stared directly at his boss. "At least I thought they were. So I chased them - but they disappeared completely."
"Them." Mac frowned. "Adam, who are you talking about?"
"Two dark figures, okay? Sounds creepy, I know - and it is. Ever since I watched the CCTV footage, I keep on seeing them in my dreams. They're haunting me, Mac; and I can't tell what's real any more. I... I'm scared..." The last word was barely audible. Adam's breath caught in his throat and he clutched at his chest in a panic.
Mac's hand reached out and settled on his arm to steady him. The unexpected connection sent a jolt through Adam that released him from the tight grip of his fear. "Close your eyes again. Tell me something else. Something tiny and insignificant. Focus your mind..."
"H-hypnotist are you, n-now boss?" Adam stuttered, but he did as he was told, frowning slightly as he tried to concentrate. Little by little, his breathing evened out.
"Something else," Mac prompted. "You mentioned a scent - describe it to me."
His voice was gruff and reassuring. Adam anchored himself in its familiarity. He tipped his head back and let everything else drift away as he tried to capture a fleeting memory with words. Smoke in a net, he sighed - but the ghostly scent was there and somehow his tired brain latched onto it, working to break it down. "Sharp - like bleach, or some other chemical. Sickly, too, with a bad kind of sweetness. And musky, like sweat - with a stale kind of bite to it."
"That was very good, Adam." Mac's warm approval brought him back to his senses. He opened his eyes and blinked, feeling quite bewildered as though a strong hand had pulled him out of deep, dark water.
"What? I mean, it was? Thanks, boss..." And then, like a physical blow, he was struck by a moment of absolute clarity. He froze, unable to speak.
"Adam?" Mac said, full of concern.
"I know!" he blurted out at last. "I know for sure this time. It wasn't him, Mac - the scent wasn't there."
"The man you caught? It wasn't the man who attacked you." Mac tried to follow him.
"No! Because he didn't smell... I mean, he smelled; he was pretty disgusting, really... but..."
"It wasn't the same," Mac finished. Adam watched him eagerly as he furrowed his brow in thought. "Do you understand what this means?" he said at last.
"I do." Easy to admit when, deep down, Adam had known it all along. "My attack was different. Something else is going on."
"Yes, it is." Mac leaned forward. "Look, Adam. I need to ask you some difficult questions now. Will you let me?"
"I will." His voice cracked. "I just... I need a moment, boss. Okay?"
"Take all the time you need. And thank you."
Adam pushed up from the couch, surprised to find how shaky his legs were, and headed over to the tiny kitchen. His throat was dry and he needed some water. "You want something too, Mac?" he called out over his shoulder. When his boss declined, Adam filled his own glass to the brim and stood at the sink, sipping slowly as he gazed out of the window and counted the brightly lit rooms in the building opposite. So many people out there. So many separate lives; sometimes it blew his mind to think of it. How small was he, in the grand scheme of things? And yet, here behind him was a man who cared enough to drag him out of the nightmare that had claimed him and set him back on his feet. All he asked for in return was honesty.
I can do that, Adam thought.
With a deep breath, he set down his glass and walked back to the couch - but he didn't resume his old seat. Perching on the coffee table this time, he looked Mac straight in the eye. "I'm ready."
Mac gave a nod of quiet approval. "Don't worry - we'll get to the bottom of this," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving till we do."
"Okay..."
"Think about your answers carefully. They may be very important. And, Adam..."
"Yes?"
"If I hear the word 'fine' once more, then all bets are off and you will hear me yell. Understood?"
Adam bit his lip. "Mm hmm."
"What are you feeling? Right now?"
Wait - was that the first question? It seemed far too easy - and yet, when he tried to put the words together, Adam found himself fighting against his deepest instinct. Self-preservation was holding him back but this time, it was misguided. He clenched his fists and pushed harder, forcing his way past the barrier. "I know how everyone sees me, okay?" he began. Mac frowned in confusion, but let him continue. "I'm Adam the clown; the jumpy guy that can't string a sentence together without going off at a tangent or stammering like some nervous fool. But I know my own mind and I'm proud of it. It's all I have, Mac - and right now, I feel like it's breaking. Can you imagine how scary that is?"
"I can."
Mac's straightforward answer made him pause and look at his boss once more; gaining strength from the sympathy in his eyes. Adam flushed. "Okay. That's it - that's how I feel. Like I'm losing my grip on reality. Sometimes..." He lowered his voice. "Sometimes I could just curl up on the floor and sleep forever. That's bad, right? But then, at the same time, I get so afraid of my dreams that I don't want to sleep at all."
"Have you ever felt this way before?"
"Once, when I was a kid. I got sick... But this isn't the same thing. It can't be." He shook his head. Some thoughts went too deep, and some things were not meant for sharing.
Mac didn't push any further. Wisely, he sent the conversation down a new path. "You said the nightmares came after you watched the security footage?"
"Yes..."
"So this isn't PTSD from your own attack? Did you think of that?"
"I did - but you're right. It's been going on far too long. I thought I was just really tired, you know? Maybe I am." He hovered on the edge of a question; one that he hardly dared to ask. "Boss - you think this is my fault? Did I push myself too far? Am I burned out, or something?" Twitchy with nerves, he waited for Mac's condemnation.
But Mac shook his head.
"At first, I wondered that myself," he admitted slowly. "It seemed to fit the circumstances. After this evening, though, I have a new theory." Sensing his reluctance, Adam guessed what had to be coming next.
"You agree with Sid." Disappointment burned behind his eyes, sending tears that were always too quick to fall. They stung him as he blinked them away. Not this time, he told them fiercely. He was stronger than that. And he had to prove that he could learn his lesson. "That's okay. I understand. But you need to believe me when I say that I don't do drugs. Not now; not ever. Nor would I lie to you, boss. Trust goes both ways, right? It hurts me when I let you down; don't you get that?"
Mac kept silent for a moment. Adam watched him, scared that he had gone too far. So hard to explain how he felt, when his head was aching and his thoughts were as sluggish as mud in a river.
"What kind of boss would I be if I didn't?" Mac said at last. "Some things you hide, Adam; some things are written all over your face. I do trust you - and, as it happens, I don't agree with Sid. Not entirely."
Okay - what did that mean? Encouraged by Mac's reassurance, Adam tried to concentrate, clasping his hands together and leaning forwards.
"You're not taking drugs; I believe that. Your honesty isn't in question. But after Sid called me, I started to look at your symptoms again and they're making me wonder. Exhaustion. Mood swings. Nightmares, paranoia - and, based on the things you've just told me, hallucinations too. Not to mention those hiccups. Adam, is it possible that you've been drugged without even knowing it?"
One simple question and the whole world changed completely. Adam's mouth fell open. Could it be true? If it was... then maybe this was not his fault. He wasn't going mad. He hadn't destroyed his own life single-handedly...
Someone else had done it to him.
And now the joy that had filled him a moment ago slowly drained away, leaving behind it an ugly sense of fear.
"Who would do something like that?" he whispered hoarsely. Mac saw his horror and gripped his hand.
"My next question," he said.
I don't want to answer it. Adam's head was throbbing by now. He knew that Mac was right. It was the only explanation that made any sense - and yet, at the same time, the implication was that one of his friends had chosen to hurt him deliberately. Had sent him down this road without any care for the consequence.
"No one. I don't know anyone like that. I'm not a cop, Mac; I haven't made enemies. I just work in a lab, you know...? Test tubes, samples... I don't understand." His plea was desperate.
"I have a suspect," Mac said.
Adam looked up. The face before him was stone and the eyes were cold chips of ice. "Who?" he whispered.
"Your friend Jade."
"Not my friend..." Adam breathed. Why did people keep calling her that?
"She's a known user. And the way she rescued you was far too convenient for my liking. Either she'd been following you, or she set the whole thing up and made sure that you didn't see your attackers - or what became of them." Mac's accusation gathered speed. Adam tried not to let it overwhelm him. This was important. He had to think clearly. "Did she ever bring you any food?"
"Well - pizza, I guess, but that was Kevin too. And breakfast, one day..." Adam shook his head. "But Mac, you don't understand, okay? I sent her away..." Or was it Stella who did that? The memory was hazy but its meaning was clear. "She hasn't been here for over a week. It can't be her."
"Who else has given you food?"
He laughed; a high, unnatural sound. "Try Stella. She brought me a care package when she found out that my fridge was bare. In fact, boss, the only people who've been here lately are you guys - Flack, Danny, Lindsay. Haylen... You. It's not you, boss, is it...?" The joke fell flat, as Mac shook his head.
"No one else?"
"Well, there's Elma, of course. But that's even crazier. What, now you're thinking the little old lady next door is drugging me? With tea and cake and cookies..." He tailed off.
"Arsenic and Old Lace," Mac said softly. "Frank Capra, 1944. A classic."
His words fell on deaf ears. Adam wasn't listening to his boss any more. He wasn't even looking at him. Instead, he sprang to his feet with a look of dismay as the terrible truth overwhelmed him. A little old lady - who plied him with tea and kindness because he was there for her when she had nightmares. When she was scared... "Oh! Oh, my God." It was blindingly obvious. How had he missed it? How could anyone be so self-absorbed?
Elma was the key.
"We have to go over there, right now," he begged. "We have to help her, Mac. I'm not the one being drugged; at least, not on purpose. She is..."
-xx-
A/N: This chapter is for 1917farmgirl.
To all those people (including farmgirl!) who wanted Adam to sit down with Mac and have this conversation - I hope you enjoyed it!
We may be heading towards the end, but I can promise that the story isn't over yet... More soon! And thank you, as always, for SO MANY kind reviews.