The Investigation | Mikael

Chapter Thirteen

 Anyone who reads this will probably wonder why I chose to sleep with Mikael so suddenly, and after only knowing him for such a short time. It could have been that I was desperate; I had been single for a long time, and I was getting lonely. There might have also been some gratitude mixed in; despite once being a warrior himself, he didn't call me a coward for injuring myself so I wouldn't have to fight. He didn't judge me or my actions at all, just as he promised. 

 Most importantly, during the very short time I had known him for, I began to feel something for him. I was drawn to him, fascinated by him. Every time I was with him, I would always forget what it was I was supposed to be doing for Marcel in the first place, and since I had no other cases to pursue thanks to Marcel, I had plenty of time to spend on Mikael. 

 As for Mikael's reasons for sleeping with me that night, I don't know for sure. It's most likely that it was the loneliness getting to him. He seemed to be in desperate need of attention and companionship, and there I was, ready to give it to him. I didn't know at the time how else he felt about me, but he at least didn't show any sign that he didn't like me. 

 So, yes, I spent a night with Mikael on that old mattress laid out in the living room of the abandoned house. I wound up staying there the entire night, which was not what I originally intended to do. 

 I woke up that morning as the sun was rising. When I saw the light, I sat straight up and looked around the room. It wasn't a good idea to stay the whole night, I realized, and certainly not this late. 

 "I thought about waking you up," I heard behind me, "But you looked so peaceful in your sleep. I couldn't disturb you." 

 Mikael was leaning against the wall next to the doorway, arms crossed, staring down at me. 

 "I know now why Marcel is regretting letting you hunt me down," he remarked. "If you can't handle the army, how are you supposed to handle me?" 

 "You know, he said something similar to me a few days ago," I said as I began to get dressed. "Look, I can't stay any longer. I have to go. I'm sorry." 

 "Don't be." He walked over to me and kissed me. "I'll come see you soon." 

 I nodded. "All right, then. Um, see you soon." 

 I left the house and made my way to Rousseau's, which was still technically closed, but I knew Josh would let me hang around anyway.

 "Hey, we're closed," I heard Josh call as I entered. 

 "I don't care." I sat down at the bar. "I need a drink." 

 Josh came in and gave me a quizzical look. "Finn. What's up?"

 "Just pour me a scotch, would you? If you don't, I'll go behind the bar and get it myself." 

 "All right." Josh took down a bottle and pulled down a glass. "What's up with you?" 

 "I had an interesting night," I said as he handed me the glass. "I slept with someone." 

 "You did? Not that that's bad," he added. "I'm just surprised. You've never talked about relationships before." 

 "Because it's been a long time since I was in one. This was...nothing serious." 

 I heard the front door open again, and Marcel say, "You must have had a rough night to be drinking this early. What's going on?" 

 "I, um..." I didn't want to tell him that I had spent the night with someone and wasn't actually doing any work. 

 "Apparently, he isn't as intense with his work as you think he is," Josh said mischievously, giving me a sly smile. 

 Marcel looked between the two of us. "Should I be concerned?" 

 "Well, he wasn't sleeping with me," Josh replied. "Apparently, he was with someone else." 

 "It was a one-night stand," I said quickly. "And it didn't end well this morning. That's why I came for a drink. Look, I'm sorry I wasn't working last night." 

 "Hey, it's okay. It's actually good to hear you were out enjoying yourself for once." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Just don't do it too often, you know? I need your brain sharp." 

 "Right. I'm gonna go home, then. I need a long shower." 

 I left Rousseau's as quickly as possible, not wanting to stick around any longer. 

~~~~~~ 

 Before I went home, I stopped in the St. Anne's church. My family had been religious, and I still came here for services every now and then. There was something comforting about it, something that let me pretend I was still the old Finnamore Laverty, the policeman from Dublin who wasn't in as difficult a position as the Finnamore Laverty I was now. 

 "Finn. What are you doing here?" 

 It was Vincent Griffith, the leader of the witches of New Orleans and a sort-of friend of Marcel's. 

 "I just wanted to stop in for a minute," I said. "I've been having it a bit rough lately. Do you think seeking spiritual guidance would do anything for me?" 

 He shrugged. "Depends. Come on." We sat down together in one of the pews. "I know Marcel hired you to track down Mikael. Is that what this is about?" 

 I nodded. "I think he regretted it the moment he gave it to me to handle. He thinks I can't handle it. He might even be right; I haven't gotten far." 

 "Well, it sounds like there's a good chance you're both underestimating you," Vincent said. "Don't keep doing it. Try a few prayers and ask for some kind of guidance. See what it does for you." 

 It made sense, but I knew spiritual guidance wasn't going to help me. In my head, I knew the right thing to do was tell Marcel the truth about everything, but my heart seemed to have other plans in store.