--XIII--

The second-hand smoke from Belinda's lungs was a dark slate gray. It felt like poison, and I had to sit next to her.

"We'll know in two weeks," said Elsie as she readjusted her aquamarine aluminum eyeglasses. "If we find anything in the hotel that matches." She glanced at me. "You don't need to do any further inspecting."

The night sky was just as starry and cloudless as it was yesterday evening. Streetlights illuminated the road on my right side, and the glow was like candlelight on the dark maroon tablecloth.

I stabbed a potato with my fork. "In two weeks?" I said. "There has to be more that we can do."

Elyza "Elsie" Cobb, with an IQ of 175, was a specialist in one of the many forensics teams I worked with. She wasn't as difficult as, say, Belinda- but she delivered bad news, and delivered good news like it was bad news.

"Within two weeks, I posit," she said.

Posit.

The team was gathered at Crisanto Pacifico- a diner located just outside of the Suburbs, where food prices weren't insanely unreasonable. This was where I met with people if it was necessary, and wasn't a weekday.

But this time, I wasn't the one who called the meeting; it was James, who sat across from me at the table. We were outside in the balmy and humid air, about a hundred meters higher in elevation than Vicinity One and Vicinity Two, which bordered a side of the Everglades- the area where Crisanto Pacifico was. I stared at the fountain of dancing water and fish to my left. It changed color, from yellow to blue to red to green.

"I know what he's thinking," said James, who was still in the process of munching away at a large toasted chicken sandwich. "He doesn't want to wait; somebody else could get killed."

"Or raped," I said.

"Or raped." James swallowed, then took a pill and then a sip of his coffee.

"Or both!" interjected Kaylee. We all turned to look at her. She was here because she read my mind and followed me here. Belinda told her to, quote, "make a beanstalk and jump on it" but she hadn't done that yet; she was staying to listen. James decided that she could stay. "How tricky can this guy be?" she said.

"We technically don't know if it's a guy or gal, Kaylee," I said.

"We also don't know if it's the same person," Wyatt said. "As whoever committed the other murders, decapapitations, rapes. Could have been a group." I barely glanced in his direction, at first. Wyatt wore an army green T-shirt with the US seal on it: a dark blue circle, with a set of balanced scales in its center, at the bottom. Above the scales were two overlapping triangles- one inverted- with some sort of shape in the middle of the upright one. Wyatt's hair was short, brown, and salt and pepper. Kind of like the raccoon I saw earlier today. "But I'll take Torres in for questioning." He looked at me, and smiled. "Good having you on the Union of Stars, Midnight."

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I stared at him.

"Thank you, sir," I replied.

"The word is decapitation, Wyatt," said Belinda.

I changed the playlist on my phone.

"That's exactly what I said," replied Wyatt.

Elsie was scrolling through something on her phone. "Why do the folders have notes on unrelated killings, from years ago?" she said. She looked up from the screen, and at Klein. "With old news articles. Some alleged 'Manila Maniac'? Sounds like a myth."

Belinda grunted irritably. "Same area. Same signature of the killer- heads all cut off. None of the heads were found. All instances showed evidence of physical as well as sexual abuse. I deduced it was possibly the same person."

"Or entity," said Wyatt.

"Here's what's going to happen," said James, clearly sounding bored, and like he didn't want to be here despite him calling the meeting. "Connor will conduct further investigation, in the warehouse."

"The drug place in the Lowdown?" I said.

"Yes," said James.

"Connor isn't even here."

"Yes, I am!" Connor materialized out of thin air, in the seat between Kaylee and Wyatt.

"How long have you been there?" I said.

"Thought you could smell me," he replied.

"When you're drunk or you're smoking or both, yeah," I said. "Nice having you."

"Chris will take the hotel while Wyatt performs his interrogations," James said.

"What about you?" said Belinda.

"I'll keep the mainland and its president happy," said James. "And prevent this place, us included, from getting blown to dust."

Kaylee and I exchanged a glance. Not one, but both of her parents were CSOs for the Union of Stars' Overwoods branch. And she wasn't safe.

Nobody said anything.

I put on Caleb's jacket. "I guess I better go see to that hotel, then," I said. "I love you guys."

"Monday," James said.

"What?" I said.

"Monday. You take the hotel on Monday."

I shook my head. "A fourteen-year-old was killed. Who knows if I can find this killer today and stop them? Other people could get hurt."

James had no reservations about reading my mind. Neither did Kaylee, who was already walking away from the outdoor dining space. She was probably going to go make that beanstalk for Belinda.

I guess you could say they always knew how to hit me and where.

"Other people are getting hurt, Chris." James took his eyeglasses off, slowly and without touching them. "Because you aren't spending time with them. People who want you around. People who want you to be near them."

I didn't know if he meant Malcolm; I didn't know if he meant Caleb. I didn't know if he maybe even meant anyone else. I didn't read his mind to find out.

"Nobody wants me around," I said.

"That's not true," said Connor.

I hopped off the ground, aiming for Vicinity Two.