Since nothing would come of his musings, Andi got up, took care of his morning routine, slipped into the fresh clothes George had laid out for him—gods bless him—and ventured down the stairs into the kitchen. George wasn’t just in a better mood, he was—
A burst of colors, the scent fresh and warm and soothing, like being safe in the middle of the hive, like being cozy under the bark, inside the cocoon, there were green and red and yellow, bleeding into each other, contentment, George had decided something, it was good, a glimmer of orange, here and there, he was sure of himself, but not of something else, probably Andi, the cinnamon and lemon aroma of his determination enveloping Andi, like home, George was home in so many ways—
“Good morning, Andi. You look better.” George put a mug of steaming tea on the kitchen island.
Peppermint and honey. Perfect to wake up. “Good morning to you too. It was a good night. You are happy.” Andi had stopped some time ago changing his statements to questions when addressing his partner. George knew he could sense his emotions, up to a certain degree. No need for pretense. It was liberating for both of them.
“I am. I talked to Daniel yesterday and finally realized something.” He placed a bowl with fresh fruit—strawberry, ripe and juicy, banana, still a little green but Andi would brave it, and pineapple, sweet and sour in one, what a marvel—in front of him. There were some walnuts and sunflower seeds sprinkled over it, to give things a crunchy aspect.
“You realized you know who our killer is?” Andi teased before he took the first spoonful. Flavor exploded on his tongue, and he moaned a bit. Even the unripe banana couldn’t diminish the overall deliciousness.
“No. More important.” George got his own bowl of fruit, together with a glass of his nasty green smoothie. “I’m spending a lot of time here, and I’ve been thinking about your offer of moving in.”
Andi froze. Hope bloomed in his chest. There was a slither of shame as well, because he was so needy, because he was so glad, because he was burdening George when he should have let him walk away. Only Andi was too selfish to do that. “And?”
“And there’s no reason for me to be wasting money on a place I rarely stay at.” Again, the spike of orange, George was sure of himself but not ofAndi. How laughable was that, as if he didn’t know there was only one answer Andi would give?
“When are you moving in?”
Yellow and green and purple, relief and joy and happiness intertwining, the scent of earth and warmth and cinnamon, all flooding Andi’s senses, George’s reaction making him realize how muchhehad wanted it to happen, and wasn’t that the strangest, how everything fit so perfectly while the pieces never revealed the whole picture?
“Well, a good portion of my clothes is already in the guest room. There are a few things I’d like to have here, like my recliner, but most of my furniture can go into storage. Unless there’s something you want to have?”
“Your TV is bigger than mine. We could put mine into the bedroom and yours down here in the living room.”
They both very carefully didn’t address the singular of bedroom.
“And we need to talk rent. Of course, I’m paying you.” George’s tone brooked no argument. Silly man.
“We’ll see.”
There was alookbefore George went back to his fruit. The remaining breakfast went by in companionable silence.
When they arrived at the precinct, Geena was waiting for them at the entrance, her face grim. Andi didn’t need the input of the spiders and silverfish to know something bad had happened. George picked up on it as well.
“I guess it’s not a good morning?”
Geena shook her head. “Don’t ask me how, but the press has gotten wind that Tyler ‘found’ the corpses. The chief is at home, trying to keep the vultures at bay. They have the nerve to camp out in front of the chief’s house.”
Andi immediately thought of Tyler and how he had to deal with those vultures on top of everything else. There was even a small hint of pity for the chief. Having the media in front of your home wasn’t something he wished on anybody. He thought about calling Tyler but refrained when he realized the boy had been talking to him with his dad’s cell. No need to risk the chief’s wrath.
“There’s nothing we can do at the moment except try to find the killer as fast as possible. That should divert their attention back to us.” Geena went ahead into the building, going directly to the morgue. “Evangeline said she has something for us.”
They followed her to Evangeline’s office, where she was sitting behind her desk, staring at her PC while hacking away at the keyboard with two fingers because there were so many mounds of paper boxing it in, she couldn’t put her elbows down on the desk to use all ten fingers. Not that she would have been any faster then. Evangeline’s hands were made for cutting flesh, not hitting buttons on a keyboard.
“Ah.Manuia le taeao. I’ll be done in a sec.”
“Good morning, Evangeline.” Andi watched her movements, tuning in to everything going on in the precinct. It was the usual hubbub, maybe a bit enhanced because of the news about Tyler. Luke Gelman was standing in front of their whiteboards, thinking hard, the cool scent of his concentration ripped by the acidic stink of the antifungal nail polish he still used. Sandra and Tobias were talking while wading through stacks of paper, the two beat officers who were helping them sitting at a desk that had been placed in a right angle to Sandra’s. Most of the other detectives were at their desks, working or chatting, filling the air with aromas ranging from sweet and pleasant to sharp and disgusting, like a goulash of almost everything the blobs had to offer.
“Faia. If you’d be so kind to look at the screen.” Evangeline pointed at the black surface on the wall. It flickered on, showing the picture of a mass with spikes and bubbles, something bizarre that would have been right at home in a horror movie.
“What are we looking at, Evangeline?” George stared at thething.
“Ask your partner.”
“Pollen.” Andi squinted. It was magnified, but he was able to connect the spikes to something he knew—Southern magnolia,they had blossomed so well last summer, so much food for the hive, the brood, the arthropods.
“Yes. Magnolia grandiflora or Southern magnolia. I found it on the clothes of Marco Flores.” Evangeline changed the picture on the screen to another blob. “Asclepias tuberosa, butterfly weed. Found on Lola Monarch.” Another picture. “Rosa Carolina, Carolina rose, found on Carl Latimer. We’re not done yet, but so far, we have found traces of pollen on each of the victims, sometimes pure, like in these three cases, sometimes mixed. Your hunch was spot-on, Andi.”
