The Birch House

Chapter Twenty-five

Around noon, I heard the doorbell, and ran downstairs. Chase was lying on the couch, sound asleep. Still no sign of Alyssa, and I didn't expect to have any Alex sightings, given the daylight hours. I raced down the hall to the door, which was braced with a wooden chair as a temporary lock, and hesitated.

"Alex? You there?" A chilly breeze swept across me, ruffling my hair. Wow. He was strong today. "Can I open the door? One for yes, two for no."

Apparently, yes. I pulled the chair away and peered outside. There were two men standing on the porch, both tall; one was lean and hard-looking, with black hair; the other one was a little pale (but not vamp pale) and heavyset, and where he wasnt balding, his very short hair looked brown.

They both displayed badges. Police.

"You're Evie, right?" the lean one said, and extended his hand. "Charlie Garnier. This is my partner, Sylvan Howard. How you doing?"

"Um..." I fumbled for the handshake. "Fine, I guess." Howard also shook my hand. "Is something - I mean, did you find?" Because I both hoped that Chase's dad was in a holding cell, and was afraid of what that would mean for Chase. I rocked nervously back and forth on my heels, my eyes darting from one of them to the other.

Charlie Garnier smiled. Unlike most smiles I'd seen since coming to Mystic, this one seemed... uncomplicated. Clean, sort of. Not happy, because that would have been weird, but comforting. "It's okay," he said. "No, we haven't found them, but you've got nothing to be afraid of. May we come inside?"

I heard shuffling footsteps behind me. Chase had woken up, and was standing in the hallway, barefoot and rumpled, with a fierce bed-head that got worse as he yawned and ran fingers through his hair, standing part of it on end.

How sick was it that I found that sexy?

I collected myself and pointed at the cops on the doorstep. Chase's eyes focused fast.

"Officers," he said, and came toward the door. "Anything you need?"

"I was just asking if we can come in and talk," Detective Garnier said. He'd stopped smiling, but he still looked kind. Informally.

A chill moved softly over my skin. A single wave of chill. Yes. Alex was okay with it.

"Sure," I said, and stepped back to swing the door wider. The cops stepped over the threshold, Garnier first, then Howard, and Chase shot me a look I couldn't quite figure out and led the men back to the living room.

Howard studied the place more than the two of them; he seemed to really appreciate it. "Nice," he murmured, which was the first thing he'd said. "Great use of wood in here. Real organic."

I couldn't really say thank you, because, hey, I didn't build it. I didn't even own it. But on Alex's behalf I said, "We think so, too, sir." I settled nervously back on the sofa, perched on the edge. Chase remained standing, and Garnier and Howard moved around, not exactly searching, but cataloging everything. Garnier stayed focused on the two of us, and after a moment, he bent his knees and sat down in the chair that Alex had occupied last night. Déjà vu, I thought. Garnier seemed to shiver a little, and he looked up, maybe trying to locate the source of the draft that had just brushed past him.

Alex liked that chair.

"You had some trouble here last night," Garnier said. "I know you had a talk with our colleagues Frieda and Franz. I read the report this morning."

No harm in admitting to that. Both Chase and I nodded.

"A little scary, huh?"

I nodded. Chase didn't. He gave the detective a narrow little smile. "I'm a Mystic lifer. Define scary," he said. "Anyway, if you're playing good cop, bad cop..."