Adelmo jumped up and threw open the door, terrified at what he would find.
Lana spun around at the sound of the door and saw Adelmo, looking as white as a sheet.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“You screamed.”
“Some dog ran across the porch and startled me. I’m fine.”
They stood in the doorway, each awkwardly waiting for the other to speak. Adelmo felt drawn to look past her, and stared up at the full moon, which snapped him out of his stupor.
“The keys. You need the keys to the store.”
Adelmo fished the keys from his pocket and practically shoved them at her.
“Thanks a lot. I'll call you as soon as I know when I’m coming back, so take care bye-bye.”
Adelmo slammed the door and pressed his ear against the wood, hoping against hope to hear her footsteps off the porch.
Lana, stunned, just stood there for a moment before walking to her car and driving away. The plainclothes policeman sitting in his car across the street made a note of her license plate in his log book and went back to his i-pod.
Inside, Adelmo breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, collapsing against the door.
It was then he understood what his grandfather's words had meant in his dream, and realized he had a lot to do before he left.
What Adelmo had realized was that it was his own blood on the blade of grass that Nik had taken in to be analyzed, not the fabled wolfblade. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew. He also found it strange that his grandfather apparently was aware Adelmo would be arrested for a double homicide unless he could somehow get that sample back.
But Adelmo felt strongly that he needed to get to Romania to see his
grandfather in person. He had a strong feeling his troubles paled in comparison
to whatever his grandfather was dealing with.
Still, he obviously had not invaded his grandson’s dreams for no reason, so
Adelmo decided he would just have to get the sample and then fly to Romania.
How to get the blood sample back was another story completely.
First things first, Adelmo needed to go to the police station. The next morning, he was up early and drove past the grocer’s. The yellow crime tape was still in place. It was obviously still an active investigation. Nothing was settled, yet.
He continued on his way to the police station and ran into the morning rush hour. He was nervous when he realized it was going to take him much longer to get to the lab. He had to get the sample back before it incriminated him. He kept swallowing, his throat felt dry, and his hands were sweating, his nerves were getting the better of him. There had been so many weird things happening lately that it was hard to stay calm.
But what he’d decided to do would require nerves of steel.
After all, it wasn't every day a suspect in a sensational murder case walked into the police lab and stole evidence of the crime.
Adelmo pulled into the police station parking lot and parked the car. He walked into the lobby of the police station, hoping Nik wasn't there, so it would be at least a little easier. He was greeted by a pinch-faced receptionist who looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but working.
“Is Nik in?”
Adelmo hoped like hell the woman would just direct him to Nik's office, but the woman just gave him a blank stare as if he’d asked to speak to a pink elephant.
“There’s no Nik here.”
Now Adelmo was confused. For a brief instant, he imagined Nik had been fired, which wasn't good, since he really needed to get into his office. Adelmo quickly ruled out that possibility and reminded himself to calm down. His imagination was running wild lately, but who could blame him?
“Nikusubila Minkah doesn't work here?”
The woman’s eyes relaxed, and she replied, “Oh, sorry. He isn't in yet.
Detective Minkah will be in at ten. If you want to come back, then I’m sure
he'll be here.”
“Sure, but I’ll call first to make sure. When we were kids he was always running late. Probably hasn't changed much.”
Adelmo’s smile wasn't returned, so much for charming his way past this one.
He left the police station and went back to the crime scene to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He had been in a hurry with Nik, but there was always the chance he might find something else. He was hoping he could sniff around without attracting too much attention. He knew the cops would be edgy if they saw him at the scene, but he figured his status as a „person of interest‟ might not have filtered down through the ranks, yet. If Nik was being truthful, he doubted his picture had been passed around, so as long as he didn't act suspicious, Adelmo figured he could take a quick look around.
He parked at the store to look around in the daylight. There were no cops around, and the store was still locked up, so that was good, at least. He walked around the store and looked at all the areas he had before. The prints were still gone. Adelmo didn't know what to make of the fact they'd disappeared, and almost thought they would magically reappear in the sunlight, but it was the same as when he'd brought Nik there. As if the prints never existed.
But Adelmo had the pictures to prove it.
Or at least, someone had them. Where they were now, he had no idea.
Then he saw it. It was the same as when he'd been there with Nik and found the blood drop. Suddenly his senses felt extraordinarily heightened, and he felt a tingling sensation on his face. He looked to his left and saw a single thick hair caught in the chain-link fence that abutted the brick wall at the back of the building.
It was as if his vision was equipped with a zoom lens, and he quickly rushed over and carefully plucked the hair from the fence.
He looked around. There was nothing to put it in.
Then his eyes went to the yellow police tape and he had an idea.
It was eleven o’clock when Adelmo drove into the parking lot of the police station again for the second time that day. He now not only had to steal a piece of evidence, but somehow replace it with another, now carefully wrapped in a section of yellow crime scene tape he'd torn from the roll protecting the store.
Once more he faced the dour woman at the reception desk. This time he smiled even more broadly. He was smiling so widely, as a matter of fact, he thought his lips might leave his face.
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