Adelmo looked into Nik's eyes, unsure of how much he knew. He decided he'd better just come clean, and was about to spill the beans about the lab when Nik interrupted him.
“You knew the blood was animal blood, didn't you?”
“What blood?” Adelmo said, surprised.
“On the blade of grass, dummy. What other blood was there?”
“Oh, right,” Adelmo said. “The Blade.”
“Well?” Nik asked, waiting.
Adelmo wondered if Nik had spoken to the lab. He must have, and yet Nik was acting as if the blood was just animal blood and that was it, nothing about the human contamination. Now Adelmo really wanted to know why the scientist had called. He decided to play along.
“I didn't know. That's why I wanted you to get it tested.”
Nik just looked at Adelmo as if he didn't quite believe him, but really had no basis to challenge him, either.
Nik was a man of evidence. He worked his hunches, true, as all good detectives. But he still had to rely on hard evidence.
Besides, it was Adelmo.
Adelmo asked Nik if there was any other news about the case, but Nik replied that he had to follow official police procedure, especially given Adelmo's status as a person of interest.
There was some slight hesitation by both men at that point, so Adelmo decided it was time to change the subject.
“Did they get any good prints at my house?” he asked.
Adelmo had watched in fascination as the team from the crime lab had taken prints from around his house. It was not like he'd seen on TV, much less dramatic.
“They found a few random prints, but we usually get those. Probably won't go anywhere. From the location, it doesn't look like the perp. People don’t realize just how long prints last. Could be the cable guy's prints from ten years ago, it's anyone’s guess at this point.”
“Really?”
Nik nodded. “It's not like you're the world's greatest housekeeper, buddy.”
Adelmo laughed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually dusted.
“We don't know anything yet, but it seems to me that whoever did it must have been a pro. There were no blatant prints where they would be if they'd been left by the burglar, or any marks that could be traced. We don’t come across people that are that good at hiding their tracks when they break in.”
The night grew longer and longer, discussing everything they possibly could about these and other cases that Nik was working on, and Adelmo started to relax.
Nik trusted Adelmo, and he could feel that trust. When Nik started quizzing Adelmo on his thoughts about various cases, Adelmo had almost completely forgotten about the previous day's suspicions.
Nik knew from growing up with Adelmo that he was great at figuring out puzzles or suggesting things that Nik hadn't thought of, and it felt like old times when they would sit and talk long into the night about police work.
It was approaching four in the morning and the place was about to close. Adelmo and Nik both needed to get some sleep.
As they walked to their cars, Adelmo could sense Nik wanted to say something more, but decided to let it lie, hoping the night would end on a good note in spite of all the ups and downs their friendship had weathered recently. He knew there were too many holes in his story for Nik to completely buy it, but he just hoped he could stall him long enough to find some real answers of his own.
They slapped hands and parted, and Adelmo was almost to his car when he heard Nik clear his throat.
He turned around slowly, preparing for the worst.
Nik looked at him for a long moment, then said only, “Stay frosty.”
Adelmo smiled. “You too, Nik.”
The two old friends, neither of whom believed the other was telling everything they knew and neither of whom was ready to challenge that fact just yet, drove away from the little restaurant in opposite directions.
Adelmo climbed into bed as soon as he got home, turning over in his mind everything he and Nik had discussed, but he was so tired he could hardly keep things straight and so, finally, he closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.
And Adelmo began to dream again.
This one was similar to the horror from the other night.
Adelmo weaves in and out of the trees, running from something, but nothing he does shakes the thing. He stumbles over some old roots and tumbles face-first into the dirt.
Adelmo scrambles forward on his knees, finally finding his feet and managing to break into a run.
Up ahead, he sees what appears to be a clearing in the woods, almost like an exit door from the forest. He runs harder, somehow knowing that salvation can be found through that clearing.
He breaks through the final stand of trees and sees an old cottage, like something out of a fairy tale. His lungs bursting, he throws himself toward the house, finally landing against the door and fumbling for the knob.
It's locked.
Adelmo runs around to the rear of the house, to the back door.
Locked.
The opaque windows won't budge, so Adelmo, increasingly frantic, looks around for something with which to break the glass.
He sees a large rock half buried in the dirt about ten feet away and dives for it as if his life depends on it.
Adelmo woke up panting, sweat pouring down his face. Whatever false sense of normalcy he'd felt the night before, talking over old times with Nik was just that, false.
The strange events of the last several days washed over him, like an inexorable black tide from which he couldn't escape.
Adelmo was no closer to figuring out what it all meant, and he was scheduled to go to Romania tomorrow to see his grandfather, who he somehow knew needed both his help and some answers.
Adelmo had neither at the moment.
He hadn't felt so alone since the days after his parents died.
Adelmo sat up in bed and wiped the sweat from his face, on the verge of tears.
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