“I guess.” Tyler stared down into the copse. “I asked Mom if you could come today because they’re ready.”
“The ghosts?” George stepped a little closer, putting his hand on Tyler’s other shoulder.
“Yes. They want to go home. It’s time.”
“And you wanted to share it with us?” Andi was curious.
“No. They wanted you to be there. They know what you did. And Izzy says you can sense them?”
“Only as electrical disturbances. Not like you do.”
“Still, you know. Sometimes knowing is all we have. All they have.” Tyler lifted his hands, putting them on Andi’s and George’s. “They look like children again. Izzy says being a child means being free of the chains the grown-up world forces on us. She says it’s the greatest freedom—not understanding what makes no sense anyway.”
“Don’t we all want that?” George sighed.
“They’re getting all light. The sun is shining through them.” Tyler’s voice turned into a monotone. For the first time Andi understood why it freaked George out so much when he did it—knowing Tyler wasn’t fully present anymore, instead making room for something completely different, was disturbing. “Thank you for stopping him, thank you for saving Tyler, thank you for bringing us peace. Tell Tina to stop worrying and start living. I don’t regret anything. I love her. Thomas, he needs protection. Tell him I want him to be happy. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Tyler stood absolutely still for a moment. Then he shook himself like a kitten that had gotten wet. “That’s it. They’re gone.”
“Are you sad?” Andi squeezed the boy’s shoulder.
“A bit. They were great company. Better than most living people I know.”
“I can relate. Nevertheless, we have to deal with this world, whether we like it or not.” Andi winked at George, taking the sting out of his words. He knew his partner was worried about him deciding to not come back one day. It was tempting, Andi wouldn’t deny it. But in George he had found a strong reason to keep his ties to reality.
They brought Tyler home, talked to Aloys for a bit, before they went back to Charleston to meet their team at the pizza place.
“AND Isay, anchovies have no place on a pizza. Actually, they have no place in a kitchen.” Geena mock shuddered. “Disgusting salty little things.”
“Says the woman who has pineapple on her pizza.” Andi looked up from his spaghetti aglio e olio. George noted with some satisfaction that his partner had already eaten the small salad George had insisted on ordering for him. In his opinion, there could never be enough greens on a plate. He was the first to admit, though, that no salad could hold a candle to the fresh bread Da Tosto’s served with their salads. Still warm, crunchy without being dry, the middle perfectly moist. It had successfully tempted him to let his rules about carbohydrates lay by the wayside for this evening.
“George? What’s your take on this?” Geena prodded him with the back end of her fork.
“Yeah, George, tell her we can’t believe we worked with somebody who eats pineapple on a pizza!” Tobias stuffed another bite of bread into his mouth while Andi was busy twirling noodles around his fork. Sandra made a face at the mention of pineapples, and the two beat officers snickered. They were young, in their early twenties, and George remembered too well what he had considered perfectly edible food at that age. Sometimes, getting older wasn’t only bad.
“Well, at least pineapple is a fruit and therefore healthy.” George lifted a brow. Andi pretended to stab him with his knife.
“Everything has to be healthy with you.”
“Works for him, obviously.” Geena speared a piece of soggy pineapple on her fork, pointed at George in a gesture of triumph before putting it in her mouth. “This is probably the best pizza I’ve ever eaten.”
“It’s because of the stone oven. An electric oven just doesn’t get the temperature right.” Tobias gestured at the center of the restaurant, where a huge pizza oven with brightly burning logs allowed the guests to see how their pizzas baked within minutes.
“If you say so.” Geena cut off another piece of pizza. “I’m still glad I’m going home to Virginia tomorrow. This case sucked.” She looked at them. “Not the colleagues, obviously, just the case.”
“That’s serial killers for you.” George shrugged. “I’m not sure if the worst thing about this case was the number of victims or the fact that Werner killed them because of something he himself suffered from. He might not have been depressive or bipolar, but he certainly was delusional.”
“To be honest, I’m glad he wasn’t doing it for fun. I once had a case where a psychopath drove knives into his victims and filmed their faces because he wanted to capture the essence of pain. At least Werner thought he was helping them, twisted as it was.” Geena stared at her plate, where only a small triangle was left.
“It’s part of our job, unfortunately, that we see the worst humankind has to offer.” George offered Andi a piece of his pizza with artichokes and dried tomatoes. Andi took it, pushing his plate with the pasta in George’s direction.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but you two are really cute together.” Geena lifted her glass of soda in a toast. “It was my pleasure working with you. You’ve been the first detectives in a long time that weren’t territorial assholes.” She swiveled her glass in the direction of Sandra, Tobias, and the beat officers. “The same applies to you.”
“Likewise.” George lifted his glass, saw Andi and the others doing the same. “Working with other agencies is rarely fun, and honestly, we were worried how things would play out with you. Our dynamic isn’t easy to accept.”
“Amen to that.” Geena grinned. Sandra just shook her head, and Tobias rolled his eyes. “Your big bonus was the complete absence of maliciousness and arrogance. I could sense you weren’t doing things to keep me out. You simply had problems adjusting to another dynamic where there’s three instead of you two.”
“They’re not team players, these two.” Tobias contemplated a forkful of lasagna before he stuffed it into his mouth.
