Chapter 18

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My head was pressed into Connor's chest, and he was humming a jazz song. I immediately sat up. He stopped humming instantly. I touched my arms and touched my legs. I straddled him and looked around.

I was in bed. He had carried me to bed after I fell asleep, and was now staring at me like I had gone insane.

"I love you," I said, and immediately kissed him. I sat up relieved at my still existing autonomy.

"Are you alright?" He asked, gently grabbing my arm.

"Just a nightmare," I mumbled, starting to lay back down next to him.

"And...your response...is to jump up...straddle me...and say you love me?" Connor rightfully questioned.

"Excellent point, but...counterpoint...it fit the nature of the nightmare," I shrugged.

Connor looked even more confused but shook it off. We both got up and got dressed. I felt comfortable finally getting out of those clothes I had only put on because Ethan made me. I had on my proper "detective" uniform. Nick and I have to match in at least one regard: a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt, and jeans.

Oh right...but Nick won't be there.

I felt my heart drop a little.

God, be strong, Charlotte! Nick is starting his life finally. It just took a revolution...

I shook my head and fixed my hair, while Connor grabbed Blueberry and Kyle, taking them out for walks. Kyle is a bit of a terrible police dog. I mean...he responds to Nick's commands and can sniff out just about anything, but the moment he gets in the car with a criminal, he becomes their best friend. In some ways, Kyle becomes a therapy dog the moment he's even slightly, technically, off duty. But Nick would kill for that dog.

I understand though. I would kill for Blueberry. Blueberry can be a bit of a ditz sometimes though. She trips over her own feet quite a bit and hates stairs.

I remember the three weeks Connor and I spent trying to get her to go downstairs, but...again, she trips over her own feet all the time, so they're not exactly her favorite place to be. Those were a good three weeks though. Connor and I standing in a stairwell trying to encourage the most confused dog to just...do a tiny hop and come down a stair. Every single time without a doubt, she would make it about 5 down, get overconfident, and begin to tumble. Connor and I would have to catch her every time before she injured herself.

But again. I would kill for that dog. I elected to cook her and Kyle a special breakfast today. When they arrived back with Connor, they were pleasantly surprised to see steak and eggs.

I pet Blueberry goodbye and grabbed Kyle's leash and harness. The three of us headed off to work.

~

"Isn't it everyone's favorite walking write up?" Agent Brant greeted us. Connor looked unentertained unsurprisingly. I understood but was underwhelmed by Agent Brant's overly jovial tone. At this point, I don't know what to expect from him. He's either a stickler for the rules or suddenly over interested in me.

"I was talking with our suspect," Brant continued, approaching me, immediately directing me away from Connor. "And I believe I need you."

"What?"

"Listen. Asher Kam won't talk to me. But he looks at you and he sees his sister. We need to use that to our advantage."

"Oh," I nodded.

"I need you to figure out who this Asher Kam was that they stayed with while Connie was knocked out. He committed suicide, but why did they mess with our suspect so much?" Ethan asked.

I nodded again. "Okay," I sighed deeply.

"Would you two like to look on?" Brant asked Connor and Hank.

"I would rather not," Connor shook his head. Yeah, I doubt Connor wants to get knocked out again like that.

Brant shrugged but nevertheless led me towards the interview room. I threw off my jacket and touched my LED. I styled my hair exactly like Connie. When I walked in, the room was pitch black. I can't see anything...not even the interview table.

"Asher?" I asked using my voice modulation to mimic Connie's sickeningly sweet tone exactly.

"Connie?" I heard from the back left corner of the room.

"Oh my God. It's really you!" I announced.

I could hear shuffling from the back left corner, and then felt arms around my waist.

"They aren't doing anything to you...are they, Connie?"

"They won't stop talking to me...or Spencer for that matter. I'm so confused, but they won't let up."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Connie," He whispered. He dragged his fingers through my hair. I gently pushed him away, feeling a little sick to my stomach about the whole situation.

"Asher...they won't stop! I need to know..."

"Need to know what, Connie?"

"I need to know what happened when I was out," I mumbled. Asher turned on the light and looked at me. He smiled, and really took a good look at me.

"Connie...look at where we are. They're recording us all the time. I can't reveal anything like that," Asher shrugged.

"Listen, Asher. They've already got you. They caught you in the act. You're getting put away for a long...long time anyway. Just...make it a little bit easier on us. On Spencer and I," I whispered.

Asher sighed and paced for a moment.

"How is Spencer doing?"

"Oh...not well. This whole thing is just tearing him apart," I answered.

"Why do you need to know what happened? Can't Spencer tell you?"

"We haven't been allowed to see each other...they're only letting me see you."

"So you're a shill?"

"God, no Asher! I had to beg them for this! I thought it was better to hear from the source directly instead of relying on Spencer."

Asher nodded. "Who was interviewing you?"

"Ethan Brant. He said he was a special agent."

"Not...not a CR400?" Asher asked.

"No...why? Have you met one?" I asked.

Asher sighed. "They must be on to us. Here. Take this, Connie," Asher handed me a piece of paper with scribblings on it.

"What is this?"

"It's case file number for Asher Kam's murder. You'll connect all the dots...just...look at the organization of it. We have to keep real quiet, Connie."

"The organization of it? What does that mean?" I begged him.

"Everything! It means everything!" He said pushing me out the door. I stumbled out. Ethan ran outside of the observation mirror room.

"I knew you could do it!" He yelled. He immediately hugged me and buried his head into my neck.

If we're a walking write up, Ethan is a walking contradiction.

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