Phoenix Feather (16 page)

“How about dancing next Thursday?” Chris said.

“That’s not too soon?” Phoebe asked.

He shook his head. “I’m feeling good. I probably won’t dance the night away, but I’d still like to go.”

“I’ll let Trent know,” Aidan said. “See if he has that day off. He’ll invite his brother too.”

“Is his brother as good a guy as he is?” Chris asked.

Aidan pursed her lips thoughtfully. “He’s hard to get to know, but seems solid.”

Chris looked at Phoebe as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Don’t fix me up on a blind date.”

Aidan laughed. Her breath floated out in swirls of mist, like gray fire floating in the air.

“Aidan, no,” Phoebe said.

She raised her hands in surrender briefly before plunging them back into the warmth of the blanket. “I would never,” she promised.

“I’m not talking about a date,” Chris continued. “Just a replacement dance partner when I sit one out.”

Phoebe glowered at him. “There are no partners in line dancing.”

Chris shrugged and flashed a guilty smile. “Oops.”

Phoebe lowered her voice. “You don’t think it’d be weird meeting him?”

Aidan frowned until she realized Phoebe’s meaning. “It wasn’t for me. Aside from the terribly embarrassing moment of introduction.” She gave a lopsided grin. “If you look past the intimidating Detective’s shield, he’s still just a regular guy.”

“Okay,” Phoebe said. “But I’m serious, no matchmaker stuff.” She waved a finger at both of them. “Not at all.” She shivered. “Can we go back inside yet?”

Chris rolled his neck. “Yeah. Give me a few more minutes.”

Phoebe jumped up and rubbed her arms, now unprotected by the blanket. “I’ll make some hot chocolate,” she said, and dashed inside.

Aidan grabbed the slack and tucked it tighter around her shoulders. “You okay?”

“I miss school,” he replied. “Even though it was hard and exhausting sometimes, I still enjoyed it.”

“Leaves you with a lot of free time without it.”

Chris nodded. “This place has some books, so I’ve been reading.” He laughed under his breath. “I think I even miss writing papers. Am I losing my mind or what?”

Aidan smiled sadly. “No.” She should get him books for Christmas. She had thought about the upcoming holiday, always fighting it though, because all she could wonder was what do you get a dying man? He wouldn’t be taking it with him, and what could he enjoy the most in the small amount of time he had left? Books seemed like a good idea. Maybe she could even contact his old professors and ask for recommendations.

“I’m sorry, Aidan,” Chris said. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let you or Phoebe see such thoughts.”

“Well, you have every right. I admire your convictions about how you want to spend this time, and the way you stay positive and refuse to let despair get to you.” She took a deep breath. “It’s only natural you’d also feel grief, and it’s important to trust someone with that so they can help you through it.” She should have broached this issue with him sooner, but it had been too easy to put it off with the excuse that it would have been too much while he was recovering. It had been selfish of her.

Chris smiled and nodded. “I have.”

Aidan frowned.

“Don’t be mad,” he said. “I wanted to protect you. Aidan, Trent is a great guy. He’s been here for me in the way you mean, and I am extremely grateful to him. You definitely deserve a guy like that.”

She felt a wave of uncertainty, then relief, and finally a tender endearment. Trent had done so much for her, and had gone way beyond by doing so much for her friends. “He is wonderful,” she said with a contented sigh.

Chris stretched. “Well, we’d probably get inside for some hot chocolate before Phoebe comes out and pours it on top of us.”

Aidan chuckled and agreed. Chris walked ahead of her, and as she passed the threshold from cold and sharp to warm and inviting, she was hit with an incredible sadness—what was she going to do without him?

Chapter Fourteen

Trent fought impatience as he waited for his brother to arrive. Bryan had said yes to coming dancing with the group, and was supposed to be on his way over so they could drive together. Trent did not want to be late. As it was, he had already told Bryan to be there fifteen minutes earlier than he needed to be; Bryan was very susceptible to distractions of the work kind. Trent tapped his fingers against the side of his car until he saw Bryan pull around the corner and park across the street.

Bryan got out and raised his hands apologetically. “I’m not late. Not
that
late.”

Trent grinned and opened his car door. “Not late at all. In fact, you’re right on time. I lied.”

Bryan stopped and put his arms down with a sigh. “Will I ever get out of the doghouse?” He got in the passenger side.

Trent started the engine. “Eventually.”

“I told Jess the same time you told me, so it’s your fault if she’s kept waiting.”

Trent smirked. “In that, you two are alike. She’ll probably be on time too.”

They drove the thirty-five minutes to the outlets and the Western Attire store.

“You couldn’t pick a club closer to home?” Bryan muttered.

“It’s worth it,” he replied. “Who knows, maybe next time
you’ll
be the one inviting me.”

“Hah.”

They did arrive before Jess, but Aidan, Phoebe, and Chris were already there. Trent took in Aidan’s lovely features first. She was dressed up for tonight in black pants and a silk paisley blouse with billowy sleeves at the elbows. It reminded him of their first date here. Then he looked at Chris, searching his face and posture for signs of his health. It was good to see him out and on his feet. The past few weeks had been a thorny reminder that everything was not okay. Tonight though, tonight was going to be fun, and they were going to act as though it was just another get-together.

Trent introduced Bryan to Phoebe and Chris and informed them that they were waiting for one more person. Trent was proud of Bryan for taking the initiative to invite Jess to go dancing. He guessed she said yes because she didn’t believe Bryan would dance and wanted to see it happen.

“How long is the lesson?” Phoebe asked.

“An hour,” Trent replied.

She eyed the inside of the store anxiously.

“It’s very easy to learn,” he assured her.

Chris chuckled. “She’s thinking about the merchandise.”

“Phoebe.” Aidan lifted her hands to imitate a scale. “Shopping or dancing?”

Trent and Chris shared a grin as the two girls debated the pros and cons of each option. Trent was glad Jess was coming; it would even out the table, and hopefully help Bryan feel a little more comfortable, instead of like the outsider. Jess had an easier time integrating with people, and she could drag him along rather than him trying to swim on his own. Trent caught sight of Jess then, jogging to meet them.

“Sorry, parking.” She nodded to Bryan and smiled at the others as Trent introduced them. He noted the particularly pleased smile she had when he introduced Aidan.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jess said.

“You too,” Aidan replied.

Trent clapped his hands together once. “Okay, shall we?”

They went inside and gathered at the dance floor. Aidan came to stand next to him and slipped her hand into his until the music and the dancing started. Everyone laughed and grinned, even Bryan, which gave Trent the most joy that evening. Maybe he would get his brother back.

Chris danced one series and then stepped out for a rest. He still looked as though he enjoyed watching though. The event always drew onlookers, both inside and outside the store. Spectators on the edge of the dance floor clapped along to the music, while others in the back and peering through the store’s windows craned their necks in curiosity to see around obstacles. Chris came back in at the end for the last run-through and ended on an exhilarated note. Since the store had to go back to normal, they all went outside for some fresh air, warm and flushed as they were.

Jess laughed. “Wait till I tell Kathy how good a line dancer you are.”

Bryan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “She won’t believe you.”

“I have some pictures.” Chris pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll text them to you.”

“Oh, perfect.” Jess pulled out her phone to see what they looked like.

Aidan came and stood next to Trent. He slipped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “This is wonderful.”

Trent smiled to himself and tilted his head toward her ear. “Thank you.”

“I’m hungry,” Phoebe said, and surveyed the outlets for a place to eat.

“Pizza place down this way.” Aidan cocked her head in the restaurant’s direction.

Phoebe frowned and glanced at Chris.

“They probably have salads.” He looked to Trent and Aidan for confirmation. They nodded. “Maybe I’ll just pick the cheese off your slice.”

“Isn’t it Aidan’s turn for you to pick on?” Phoebe asked in feigned exasperation.

“Aidan’s pizza is now off-limits,” he said dramatically. “I don’t intend to start a skirmish.”

“Only a skirmish?” Aidan pouted. “I thought I’d be worth at least a major battle.”

“Of epic proportions,” Trent agreed with a grin.

“I’d prefer tangible food if you’re going to fight over it,” Bryan interjected. “Talk over imaginary pizza is futile.”

“Yes,” Phoebe agreed.

“Oh, hang on,” Jess spoke up. “Got a call.”

Trent turned his attention to Aidan. “So, last time was the Maui Zaui: eccentric. But I don’t know yet if you’re a creature of habit.”

“Hmm,” she mused. “Depends on whether I feel like I’m living in chaos or consistency.”

Trent contemplated that for a moment. “If life is one, you’ll eat the other?”

Aidan smiled, but Trent grew thoughtful again.

“You’ve kind of got both going on right now,” he said in a lower voice.

She looked up with her dazzling amber eyes. “You’re right. So, if my eating habits are to model my current life situation, then I defer.” She burst into a grin. “I’ll just have whatever you get.”

Trent laughed.

“Hey,” Jess said, after she had gotten off the phone. She looked serious, determined—she had put on her cop face. She put her arm on Bryan’s. “We’ve got a lead,” she said in disbelief, but with an edge of excitement.

“What?” Bryan asked. The same intensity immediately overtook him as well.

Jess looked at Trent apologetically. “I’m sorry, we need to get back to the station.”

“Yeah, sure.” He knew from past experience the work schedule of a detective, and that the serial killer case was cold. To have a lead now after so much…Trent knew its importance, not just for the city, but for Bryan and Jess who had labored so hard in vain up until now. He watched them walk hurriedly to Jess’s car and pull out as quickly as they could without causing an accident.

“I hope it’s good,” Aidan said at his side.

He hugged her closer. “Me too.”

“He came.”

Trent had to smile. “Yes, he did.” He swung her around to face Phoebe and Chris. “Still hungry?” The abrupt departure—and possibly the abrupt transformation they had just witnessed—seemed to have surprised them a little, but they recovered and the evening had not been ruined. If anything, Trent knew they had to do it again soon.

***

Bryan and Jess made it back to the station in good time, largely due to Jess’s aggressive driving. Another detective met them when they entered the squad room.

“McCain, Harris.” He nodded to them.

“Thompson,” Bryan acknowledged. “What do you have?”

The somewhat burly man with graying hair led them back to the interview rooms. “Last week a team discovered and took down a chop shop over in Lynnwood. There was a lot of stuff there, so it took a while to catalog. Anyway, our boys found parts belonging to your four victims’ cars.”
 

“Chop shop,” Jess muttered. “No wonder we never found the cars.”

“It’s not like there aren’t chop shops to choose from in the city,” Thompson added. “He took them all the way out to Lynnwood.”

Bryan made a thoughtful noise. “Sounds like him, trying to dissociate from his crimes through distance.”

“Unless,” Jess mused, “he kills away from home but destroys the cars near it.” They stopped in front of the two-way mirror outside the interrogation room. The guy sitting inside was of average size, short-cropped black hair, with large tattoos down both his arms. He looked mildly annoyed and on edge.

“Shop owner,” Thompson continued. “Francis ‘Franky’ Syler.”

“You think he’s our guy?” Bryan asked.

Thompson shook his head. “No. This guy’s purely into the mechanics of thieve ‘em and strip ‘em. He doesn’t have any of those patterns of behavior the F.B.I. teach about in his rap sheet. But, I bet he can tell you who is.” Thompson handed Bryan the file.