"Semi-Short Stories" [ Story Collection ]

Only One Way [] 4/14 []

"I just don't get it. 'Good behavior?' There's no fuckin' way that pedo got out on 'good behavior.'" Raphael's hands go to his face after tossing his own to his desk. He's exhausted. The detective has lost sleep over this dilemma, having spent hours upon hours on searching and brainstorming and desperately trying to come up with a reason for Martin to have been let out of jail. A murderer-slash-pedophile-slash-sexual-predator isn't released from prison for behaving well.

"There has to be some sort of mix-up. Maybe a newbie let out the wrong Martin Darling." Michael appears less tired than Raphael does - he works every day, so he needs to get some rest at night. He trusts that Leigh is safe and that Raphael will figure out what's really going on. He rarely fails.

"I already called and asked. I've checked with several other prisons to see if by some chance, some information was swapped. I doubted that that would be the case, but at this point I don't know what else to do."

"How about you take a breather. Go get something to eat, take a walk, nap for a while. Come back with a fresh mind. Sometimes, the best thing for a case is to just step away for a moment, refresh yourself, and come back." Michael stands from where he's been seated on the couch and stretches his arms. "Go on a lunch run. A literal run. Bring me back something, and I'll go over your files for you while you're gone."

Raphael looks as if he's about to argue, but the expression doesn't last long. He stands, grabs his keys, and shoves them in his pocket. "Zaxby's?"

"Preferably." Michael takes Raphael's chair and waves as his brother closes the door behind him. His eyes sweep over the few stacks of papers laid neatly on the desk in front of him. He starts with the first one: a handwritten log of the phone conversation he had had with the guard at the first prison. Good behavior my ass. The rest of this stack consists of other phone conversations, first written in shorthand and later translated. Raphael's handwriting is very neat.

None of the conversations proved helpful. Moving onto the next stack, Michael noticed that it was a list of people that Martin had been in contact with. He recognized a few names, all of which had been crossed out with a single line of red ink. Leigh's name was on there. Greg, the bartenders, was listed. He moved down the list one-by-one. Suddenly, he stopped. There was a third name that he recognized. Even just reading it sent chills up his back and caused his entire body to tense. He doesn't know why Raphael had crossed it out.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number listed. It rang three times before someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Samson. It's Michael. What do you know about Martin Davis?"

There's a sigh. "Someone already contacted me about this and I've been cleared. Is this really necessary?"

"That someone doesn't know you like I do."

"Intimately?"

"No. I mean personally. I know what you did to Matthew and Draco. Now tell me. What do you have to do with the release of Martin Davis?" Michael is drumming his fingers against the desk.

"He's very interested in him."

"Lucifer?"

"Yes, Him. I suppose I can tell you, since there's nothing you can do about it." There's movement. Samson shifted the phone to his other ear. "Why don't you come over? I can tell you in person."

"I'd rather you tell me now." He wants to go over. As soon as Samson suggested it, he felt the familiar...compulsion. He needed to see Samson.

"Oh, are you sure? It's so informal to tell these important things over the phone. Please. Come visit me, Chief."

"Tell me what you and Martin spoke about."

Yet again, there's a sigh. "I suppose you aren't really worth much anyway."

"What?"

"Martin had contacted Him via prayer, and He contacted me. We spoke about making a deal."

Now Michael is very confused. "All calls are monitored." *How was this not found suspicious?*

"So?"

"What deal did he want to make?"

"His soul in exchange for his freedom and wealth, along with some other things."

Michael is writing this down. He isn't sure Raphael will believe him. "What other things?"

"It isn't relevant. You got what you asked for. Can I go now?" He sounds impatient.

"No. Did you go to visit him? To cut his hand?"

"Not me, no. Goodbye."

There's a beep, indicating that the call was ended. Michael drops his head to the desk and runs his hands through his hair. This just got a lot more difficult.