Phoenix Feather (19 page)

Trent cast her a smug grin. “It’s what I’m looking for.”

She sighed in exasperation. “I will not be deterred.” She paused and eyed him. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Oh, I already have your present picked out.”

Aidan narrowed her eyes at him. She still had two weeks before Christmas to come up with something—if she could. Why was it always hard to shop for men? Would Bryan be able to assist her? She chewed the inside of her mouth. Maybe not. Or, maybe Jess was the better source.

Drat
. She’d forgotten about her scheme on what to get Chris for Christmas. She’d email one of his old professors tonight and try to do some shopping between finals when Phoebe would be preoccupied. Phoebe was easy to shop for. Aidan had spied a leather jacket with brass buttons and mini, unobtrusive tassels at the Western Attire store. She had already cleared it with Chris and Trent, so there was no chance of Phoebe getting two. That gave Aidan a thought: maybe Trent had also run his present by Phoebe and Chris. Not that they’d clue her in on what it was. And, she decided after a moment, she wanted to be surprised. She just wished she could say the same about giving Trent his gift.
Oh
.

“Trent, what would be a good gift for Bryan?” He hadn’t even been on her radar, she realized with a bit of shame. Even though she had gotten to spend some time with him recently, she still didn’t know him very well.

Trent looked just as perplexed as she felt. “Yeah, he’s a tough one. He used to be into outdoor stuff, like cycling and rock climbing, but he hasn’t done any of that in a while.”

“What’d you get him last year?”

“A CD.”

Chris shuffled in and took a seat at the kitchen table. “I heard something about rock climbing. Is that our next activity?”

“The last activity knocked you out, and you want another one so soon?” Phoebe said, right behind him.

“We were talking gift ideas,” Aidan said.

Chris grinned. “Who’s the lucky one going rock climbing?”

“Not you,” Phoebe said firmly.

Aidan grabbed glasses from the cupboard and filled them with water from the tap. Trent finished cooking the stir-fry and served it into bowls.

“Ooh, yummy,” Phoebe said upon first look. “The perfect intermission from studying.”

“Are you stressing out?” Trent asked.

Phoebe shrugged. “Yes and no. I always do well on my exams, and I always study hard, but I think I have this psychological handicap in which I
must
stress out. It’s part of the act of passing.”

“She’s mental,” Chris whispered none too quietly.

“Oh you’re exactly the same when it comes to your own tests,” she retorted.

Chris grinned but did not concede the point. “Oh, there’s a great rock climbing store downtown. They’ve even got an indoor wall and gym.”

Phoebe groaned. “Can we at least wait until after Christmas? I’d hate for you to be stuck in bed for that.”

Chris shook his head. “I never thought you of all people would be the one refraining from sports.”

Aidan chewed thoughtfully. “Hey,” she said a moment later. “What about getting Bryan a gift certificate to a store like that?”

Trent looked up and smiled. “That’s pretty good actually. Want to go in on it with me?”

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Of course! It was your idea.”

“Okay.” She gave herself a mental eye roll. How could she come up with a gift for Trent’s brother before one for Trent? This did not seem to bode well for the upcoming holiday. She had better come up with something good, considering the depth of the gift they would be getting Bryan.

“Do you buy everyone gifts at the firehouse?” Phoebe asked.

“No,” Trent replied. “We do a Secret Santa, but there’s this unspoken rule that whatever we exchange has to be some piece of worthless junk.”

Phoebe made a face. “Well that doesn’t sound very nice.”

He laughed. “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure. That’s the challenge of it, turning a piece of junk into something another person would actually like. We have contests for who comes up with the weirdest thing.”

Chris laughed behind a cough. “That sounds like fun. What’s the best one you’ve gotten?”

“Um, an upside down kid’s umbrella as a flower pot.”

Everyone laughed.

“Do you still have that?” Aidan asked.

Trent tapped his fork on his plate. “I think it’s still at the firehouse. It kind of got moved around a bit in search of a good place to get sun, so I’m not sure where it ended up.”

“I have to see it the next time I’m there.”

A light bulb started flickering in Aidan’s head. Thinking about the firehouse stirred something inside…she wasn’t quite sure what yet. Trent, the firehouse, Christmas…and it came to her—the perfect gift. That was, if she could find it. But it gave her a goal and something to shoot for, which gave her an unparalleled sense of smugness. She smiled at Trent, half-listening to the table conversation, half-plotting. She’d need to get a book list for Chris first so she could make one trip. Now she remembered why Christmas was so much fun.

Chapter Seventeen

Bryan rapped his knuckles on his desk. Their one lead, the guy named Scott who hawked the victims’ cars, was still at large. Informants and street connections could tell the police little about the guy, except that he seemed to flit about the different scenes, whether it be drugs, auto theft, or gambling. He worked independently, so there was no tracing him through a dealer or bookie. The police had hoped to catch him at another chop shop, but no women had gone missing, so there were no cars to dump. Bryan furrowed his brow. This was not what he had expected. Casey said the last victim was overkill, that the killer had snapped. Bryan had read the F.B.I. manuals. They said when a serial killer began devolving his behavior became more erratic; he would kill more frequently, sometimes breaking his previous pattern because he was losing control. This was not what the police were seeing happen. It had been almost four weeks since the last victim had been found, twice the length of time between kills in the past. Why? Why, instead of losing control, did it appear as though he had stopped killing completely?

Bryan sighed and gave a rough push at the pile of folders on his desk. “I don’t like this.”

Jess looked up.

“What’s this guy doing?” he continued thinking out loud. “Why is he appearing to be everything but what the manuals say he should be?”

Jess leaned back, her expression equally troubled. “Maybe he’s not abnormal. Let’s think about what stops a killer from killing, outside of being caught.”

Bryan shrugged. He was too frustrated to think. He knew he should be grateful that no more women had died in the past couple weeks, but the silence unnerved him, like the hush in a movie before the horror jumps out from behind the curtain.

“He could have been arrested for another crime,” Jess said. “We know this Scott likes to dabble.”

Bryan shook his head. “We’ve put the word out we’re looking for this guy. If he was arrested on another charge, I think we would have heard about it.”

“Unless it was in another county.”

“You think he had business out of state?” He smirked humorously.

“It’s possible,” she replied, irritation lacing her voice. She would not be deterred by his bad attitude. “Maybe he moved.”

Bryan groaned. “Then that would be very bad for whatever city he moved to. You don’t think he’d stop killing just because of a change of scenery?”

Jess pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. Other possibilities are accidents or injuries. He could have been in a car accident and is in a hospital, or he’s no longer physically able to continue killing.”

Bryan frowned. “That decreases our chances of catching him significantly.” It wasn’t justice until he was behind bars, regardless of whether he never killed again. In any case, it wouldn’t be because he changed his ways, just that he had no choice, so it wasn’t good enough. Maybe he had been in an accident and was dead. That would be fitting. There still wouldn’t be closure unless they could know for sure though.

“You want to check all reported accidents for this Scott person?” he asked.

Jess sighed. “Sure.”

“It would have been nice to give the families closure for the holidays,” Bryan muttered.

“I know,” she said. “But you can’t let it ruin the holidays for you with your family.”

He glanced up and started at the fierce stare she directed toward him.

“You’ve been doing really well,” she continued, not breaking eye contact. “But now it’ll be tested. You can’t slip back into your old habits this time. You have to find a way to disconnect from this job and connect with Trent.” Jess released some of that intensity and spoke more softly. “You can’t let him down.”

“Is that what you do, disconnect, like it’s so easy?” he said with a slight bite in his voice.

Jess nodded. “It’s hard, but yes.” She let her shoulders drop and leaned back in her chair. “I just remind myself that the victims need me to be this way for them, when I’m working, and my family needs me to be a sister and aunt when I’m with them.”

“That just sounds like you have to split into two people.”

“I suppose.” She turned her attention back to the papers on her desk. “Have you even thought about what to get Trent for Christmas?”

Bryan sighed. “No.”

“That’d be a good place to start.”

Now was not the time to do it though. He paused, and decided that he would give it serious thought when he was off. He’d have to really push himself to make the effort. He grimaced at the thought of last year’s present. It had been a last minute purchase, something he saw and randomly bought. What was it? Oh, a book on the rack at a grocery store checkout. Yes, Bryan had some major ground to make up in his relationship with his brother. He pulled out a sticky note and jotted down a reminder to think about Trent’s present, and stuck it on the inside of his cell phone. He noted out of the corner of his eye Jess grinning at him, but he ignored her. He could do this. He could recover his friendships and his humanity. He was grateful to Jess for her incessant and pestering nudging, though his pride prevented him from admitting that to her—at least for any time in the near future.

***

Trent rolled over and squirmed under the tangle of his sleeping bag. He was trying to sleep, but the squeaky spring was being particularly annoying today. The beds in the firehouse dorm were old at best. Someone gave a light rap on the door and Trent rolled over again. Bryan stood in the doorway, looking apologetic.

Trent rolled into a sitting position, still wrapped in the sleeping bag. “What’s up?” he asked, swallowing back a yawn. Bryan hadn’t been by the station house in a long time.

Bryan came in and sat on the bed across from Trent. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Trent waved it off. “It’s okay, I wasn’t actually sleeping. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” Bryan replied quickly. “I’m sort of out Christmas shopping.”

Trent laughed. “You missed the mall by a few miles.”

Bryan scowled. He looked uncomfortable enough just being there, rubbing his hands together and avoiding eye contact, though Trent couldn’t figure why.

“I was thinking I should probably get Aidan something. That is, if you two are still together.”

Trent gave Bryan a dark look. “We are.” Trent had no intention of breaking up with Aidan, and, as far as he could tell from her signals, she was content with their relationship as well. “But you don’t have to get her anything.” He recalled their pact to get Bryan a gift, and wondered if his brother would feel guilty being on the receiving end but not the giving. Trent didn’t want to give away the fact that Aidan was going to get him something either, because he didn’t want Bryan feeling obligated to buy her a gift in return. He sighed inwardly. Christmas could be so complicated sometimes.

“Well,” Bryan said. “She obviously means a lot to you, and I’d like to make her feel…well, welcome in the family.” He lifted an eyebrow as though looking for confirmation for an unasked question.

Trent just smiled. “That’s nice, Bryan. So you’re here wanting ideas?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid I still don’t know her that well. I will work on that,” he added quickly.

Trent felt a swell of pride he decided not to share with his brother at that time to avoid embarrassing him. “Well, she loves history, and mythology. She wants to be a teacher.”

Bryan sighed with a hint of annoyance. “I was hoping for something more concrete than that.”

“Find her a replica of an ancient artifact or something.”

He frowned. “It can’t be something simple from a regular department store?”

Trent shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “It shows you put thought into it. How’s the case going, by the way?”

“Our lead wasn’t as productive as I’d hoped,” he replied glumly.

“Sorry.”