Chapter IV: Detours and Damsels

The fiancees-turned-friends sat in silence for at least 45 minutes before Liv asked, "So, whose brain did I just eat?"

"Nice try," Major said with a witty smile. "If I tell you, then you can fake it."

"My God, Major, only you could turn an organ meal into a children's riddle. I'm telling you, I feel perfectly fine."

"And yet I told you Clive was waiting for you an hour ago, and you're still here. Doesn't seem fine to me."

"Is that what this is about?" Liv was incredulous. "All this because I didn't want to go interrogate some asshole math teacher?" She flipped the covers off her body and sat up. "Fine, then. I'll go. Are you happy now?" She got out of bed.

"A little bit," Major replied. "I'm newer at the whole zombie thing than you are; what's the longest it takes before a brain kicks in?"

"I don't know, I'm not an expert," she answered. "Look: I'm going to the station to help Clive; can I not be watched like a dangerous criminal now?"

Major narrowed his eyes in consideration. "I don't know..."

"If it makes you happier, Clive will be there to watch over me, okay?"

Major resigned. "Yeah, I guess that's okay, then. You might want to hurry, though, he's been waiting awhile."

Liv drove toward the police department in silence, without music, alone with her thoughts. How long would it take for Jacob's brain to wear off? She felt the same as always, so she wouldn't even know if it did, would she? The only difference would be that if the brain wore off, she'd lose his memories, and she'd be of even less use to Clive and the investigation. Even more useless. Helpless. Jacob's killer would go uncaught, and it would be all her fault. Clive would hate her, as he should, and probably fire her as his partner. And without Clive, what would be left of Liv? A medical examiner with a failed relationship and no excitement in her life? A rip-off, lamer version of Ravi? She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't let the brain wear off. This called for a detour...

Liv entered the police station just as her phone buzzed. Another text from Ravi, asking if she's okay, the tenth one he'd sent today. She flicked to ignore it and locked her phone again, then opened the door to the interrogation room. Clive looked up at her. "There you are! Is everything okay?"

"It would be if people would stop asking me that," she said. Then she looked at the man in the chair on the opposite side of the table, with his gray beard unkempt. "Ah, Mr. Stoker, we haven't met. I'm Liv Moore. Did you kill Jacob Roscoe?"

"What?!" the man roared.

"What my colleague means, Mr. Stoker," Clive interrupted, quickly and loudly attempting some form of damage control whilst glaring at said colleague, "is why did you run to a motel yesterday?"

"I saw your badge when you were in Linda's classroom, and I...well, I didn't want to get caught for my stash while I was working..."

"Your...stash?" Clive asked. "Are you telling me one of your students turned up dead, and the first thing you think of when you see the cops is your pot?"
"Well...yeah?" The man seemed very nervous, almost the opposite of the forceful personality Liv had seen in her vision. "I mean, I'm around kids, and it's not exactly legal for kids to have any..." He stopped talking, his eyes shifting sideways.

"So you gave marijuana to your students?"

"I want my lawyer." Of course he did.

"Look, Rich, we don't care about whatever edibles you gave your students. We're not the DEA. Just talk about Jacob already." Liv was so frustrated with all this pointless yammering.

Stoker looked from Liv to Clive and back again. "I don't know what you're talking about. He killed himself, right? What does that have to do with me?"

"Maybe he found out about your little extracurricular gardening, so you got rid of him to keep him quiet?" Clive suggested.

"No! I mean, Jacob knew about it, sure, but most of my students did. That's why they'd come to me after class with some extra cash. Jacob wasn't into it, but he wasn't telling anyone about it, either. I had no reason to hurt him. I even offered him a hit a few times for free; seemed like he could really use it, you know? Super depressed and stressed out. But he refused to even try."

"So if we asked anyone, no one would say your relationship with Jacob was...forceful?" Clive was trying his best to fish without letting Rich know what he knew from Liv's vision.

Stoker furrowed his brow confusedly. "Forceful? I don't...no, I don't think so."

"So why did he stop attending your classes three weeks ago?"

"I don't know. I asked after him, but his mother said she didn't know anything about it and would talk to him. I don't know how that talk went, but he still never showed up. I assumed he'd had enough of my side business and didn't want to be around it anymore. Not that I sold during classes or anything!" he added hastily.

Clive sighed. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Stoker." He stood up from his chair. "You can stay there while we contact the DEA."

"What?!" he yelled. "I thought you said you didn't care about it!"

"We don't. But they do. Have a nice day." Clive left the room and Liv followed.

Once they were out in the hall, Clive turned to his partner. "Major texted me and said you'd eaten. What happened?"

"He force-fed me an omelet. It wasn't fun."

"So did it not work, or what?"

Liv was confused, as she seemed to be quite often these days. "What? Look, I don't know what kind of brains Major gave me—he wouldn't say—but what part of 'I. Am. Fine' does everyone keep failing to understand?"

"You can't just walk into the interrogation room and accuse our prime suspect of murder without any evidence, Liv! You know this, this isn't day one for you."

"Why bother beating around the bush? If we want information, it's easier to just be direct."

"Because if he did kill Jacob, you accusing him is just going to make him shut down and lie through his gnarly-ass teeth."

"Whatever," Liv mumbled.

Clive furrowed his brow in solicitude. "Liv, we're all worried about you, and we're just trying to give you some help. Just take it, please."

And then, her synapses were firing again. Liv found herself looking through the window in the door of classroom 312, but from the window leading outside at the other end of the room, she knew it was the middle of the night. From inside the room came grunts, groans, and moans. "Just take it!" she heard, in the unmistakable voice of Richard Stoker. As she turned a bit to change perspective through the tiny window, she could see only the teacher's back, with the legs of a girl no older than 17 wrapped around it.

"Clive!" Liv nearly shouted.

"I know you don't want to listen, Liv, but please—"

"No, not that! I had another vision. Mr. Stoker here was 'giving it' to a student, in his classroom. And Jacob saw it!"

"Why would he risk getting caught like that?" Clive didn't think the man could be that stupid, even if he were high at the time.

"It was late at night, like after the school was closed. And I don't think Jacob walked in on them, he was just...watching through the window."

Clive instinctively glanced toward the interrogation room door. "Okay, this is good. It's a lead. I'm guessing you didn't see who the student was?"

"No, just her legs."

"Great, so that narrows it down to any female student with legs." He sighed. "I'll look into it. You need to go find out about the new brains from Major, because I think Jacob is still in control in that mixed-up head of yours."

"I'm f—"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I swear to God, Liv... Go talk to Major. Get it sorted out. Consider that an order."

"I'm not a soldier, Clive."

"No, you're not," he replied poignantly. "Now go."

Knowing that Clive would inevitably contact Major in his overbearing attempt to make sure Little Liv did as she was told, Liv headed out to see her ex. "Hey, what's up? Didn't you just leave for the station like two hours ago?"

"Yeah, I did," Liv replied. "Clive wanted me to find out what brains you gave me. I was passing by anyway so I thought I'd ask you in person."
"Um...just some random brains Ravi gave me. Nothing special about them. Why? Did you have a vision?"
"Yes... yes, I did."

"Something wrong with it?" That look of concern was back on his face, the one Liv was growing increasingly tired of seeing on everyone's face lately.

"Nope. Just curious, I guess." Liv wasn't about to tell him that she'd had one of Jacob's memories, because if she did, she knew he'd get nosy and ask how. And then she'd have to admit that shortly after she'd left his watch, she'd gone back to the morgue and had another snack of Jacob au jus. And then he would lecture her about how disappointed he is in her, and how could she do that, and why can't she just listen to what people say, and blah blah blah. She knew all this. She knew he was disappointed, and who wouldn't be? Everyone kept saying they were worried about her, but it was obvious they were confusing worry with disappointment. She wasn't helping the case; even her visions didn't give much in the way of leads. They had the guy who was probably the killer in custody, and still she couldn't give them enough to arrest him. Her last vision couldn't even give them a name or face, just some bare legs. At every turn, she failed her partner, and she failed her friends. Until she got a vision that actually made a damn difference, everyone should be disappointed, and they would be. So until that happened, she couldn't admit to anyone that she'd disobeyed them and eaten more Jacob brains.

"Uh, Liv? You having another vision?"

"Hm? What? No, why?"

"You kind of...spaced out there for a second."

"Just have a lot on my mind, I guess." She forced a fake smile that she hoped seemed sincere. "Anyway, I'm going home and getting some sleep. I'll talk to you later, Major."

"Sleep? It's only 8:00 and you had, like, 14 hours of sleep this morning?"

"I'll talk to you later, Major," Liv repeated as she turned and headed towards her car.