Page 48 of Unbearable
“You’re talking in riddles,” she pointed out.
She watched as Knox looked around at the table next to them. Then he began to rub his hands together. When he pulled them apart, she had just a second to glance at a small ball of fire before he clapped his hands together.
She snatched his hands from across the table and pulled them apart. There were no burn marks although his hands were a little warmer than normal.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“We were all born with a different gift. Memphis can find people through some form of teleportation, Tyler is stronger than any man you’ll ever meet, and Flint can control water.” He wagged his head back and forth. “Well, sort of. Flint’s still a work in progress.”
“That’s not possible,” she argued.
“I wouldn’t have believed it either until I burned down Mom’s shed one day when I was in middle school. There are more things in this world than we can understand. We happen to be a family of one of those things. Fox can calm minds. It’s been how he’s dealt with your sister, until last night.”
The waitress delivered their food, but Bailey had lost her appetite. It was ridiculous to think someone could do somethingsuperhuman. That was the stuff of comic books. Still, she had seen the small fire before he put it out.
It would also answer how Fox had managed to stay with Brooke for so long. Longer than any other boyfriend she could remember.
“Next question,” he said. She looked up at him. He was cutting up the smiley-face pancake Ethan had insisted on. Her nephew had slowly moved his chair until it butted right up against Knox. She had a choice. She either accepted that not everything was black and white in this world, or she ran screaming with her nephew away from this family.
“You know what, I think I’ll save the rest for Fox when I see him,” she said. Knox smiled back at her. She knew that he knew she had made her choice.
For better or worse, she would stand by the man who had kept her nephew safe this far. Besides, the thought of having a superhero in her corner wasn’t such a bad thought. A whole family of them? Even better.
CHAPTER 18
“Son of a bitch,”Dover spat as she stood from inspecting the body laid out in the middle of the lacrosse field. She stepped outside the tent surrounding the newest victim and scanned the crowd pressed against the security fence. Each person gawking at the crime scene had an aura of color surrounding them. She studied them all hoping for any indication that the person who killed the man was one of them.
“Son of a bitch,” she growled again. Nothing unusual grabbed her notice as she peeled the Tyvek suit off. At least she didn’t have to worry about any students staring out the windows. School had been released for the summer at the end of last week. The only way the body was discovered was because a lone security guard happened on it early in the morning doing his rounds.
“Dr. Olmstead, the head of the school, is waiting in his office for you,” Danny said walking up to her. “The security guard didn’t have much to say. He was pretty shaken up. I sent him with patrol to the office to make a formal statement. Bianchi said he’d handle it.”
“Thanks, Danny. I’ll go speak to Dr. Olmstead as soon as—” she stopped mid-sentence seeing the medical examiner joggingtoward her. “There he is.” Even standing in the middle of a crime scene, she felt a rush of adrenaline seeing Sean hurrying toward her.
“Sorry I’m late. Damn car wouldn’t start this morning. I had to bike in,” Sean said when he reached them.
“Don’t you live in–”
“Cambridge, yeah. Hence why I’m late. I’ll find you when I’m done.” Without looking back, he stepped inside the tent. She noticed the tension ease in the leader of the crime scene collection team. They had been standing around waiting for Sean also having cleared around the area earlier. She left them to hash it out while she spoke to the head of the school.
“Dr. Olmstead?” she asked when she finally found his office.
“Yes. Please, come in,” the tall man said with a gesture of his arm. She guessed he was in his mid-fifties, with graying hair and signs of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. He was also almost vibrating with anxiety. “I can’t believe this. We’ve done everything to make this a safe learning space. How does this happen?”
“Have a seat, Dr. Olmstead,” she said with a deep sigh. She sat in one of the chairs across from his desk. After several moments of hesitation, he came around his desk and took the one next to her. She pulled out a notebook from her pocket. “Have you noticed anything unusual? Anyone that looked out of place last week?”
“No. No, I don’t think so. No one brought anything odd to my attention.”
“Anyone hanging around outside the lacrosse field?”
“No, but the games are always open to the public. The season finished a month ago though.”
“Can I show you a photo of the victim to see if you recognize him? Just a close-up of his face,” she quickly added when he flinched.
“Of course.” She opened her phone and handed it to him. The man in the picture looked more like he was taking a nap. She had cropped out the ugly marks where he had been strangled.
“No, I don’t recognize him. He’s not any of the staff, and if he’s a parent, he’s not one I’m familiar with. Do you have his name? I can have the admissions clerk come in and search the database.”
“Not yet,” she said, taking her phone back. “Do you recognize the names Terrence Oldman, Ian Moore, Jack Dawson, George Goodwin, or Trent Alleman?”