Chapter 42

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"Tell me, do you come here-hic-often?" Connor slurred as he poured me another glass of wine.

"Of course. I live here," I answered offended. Connor rolled his eyes over dramatically.

"I know that. I'm trying to be hot," he answered.

"Oh. Well. It's not working," I answered.

"Aww," he sighed, disappointed. I reached for the glass of wine, which we had originally purchased because it was very fruity, but we were now drinking because it gives quite a good drunk. Honestly, getting wine drunk isn't that satisfying, but this particular wine does something that the others don't.

"Can I say something that sober me would hate for me to say?" Connor asked.

"Yeah," I shrugged. Like I'll even care right now.

"I'm really glad you agreed to go to the shelter with me tomorrow," Connor sighed.

"Connor, I've been known that," I answered. Connor had been begging for months for us to get a dog. I finally agreed we could go to the shelter.

"No, but I mean...like, you aren't just entertaining me or something. We're really getting a dog."

Oh. Yeah. Well, the plan had been just to entertain him...but I suppose now I've really gotten myself into something.

"Haha. Yes. Of course," I lied. Connor looked at me suspiciously, but then just smiled.

"I love you," he smirked as he kissed me.

I kissed him back and we just stared at each other for a few moments, with our faces just inches apart.

~

"Never have kids, Bolts," Nick said, and he pulled pillows out of the linen closet, and with Hamza holding tight onto his leg. He walked slowly with Hamza wrapped and gripping him.

He threw the pillows onto the couch, and I tucked everything in, creating a small comfortable bed for myself.

"What do I do?" I asked Nick, as he pried Hamza off of his leg. He slowly picked up the toddler, and held him close to his chest.

"You stop thinking that this whole situation is going to be fixed in a day or two. For an Android, you sure are impatient."

I suppose Nick is right.

"I mean, just barely yesterday, you were sat in here complaining to me about how your relationship is fake, and now you're begging for it to stay together. Bolts, not everyone turns around as quickly as you."

"I'm resilient," I shrugged. "I get in a good cry, and then I'm fine."

"That's not called resilience. It's called bottling things up, but whatever helps you sleep at night. Speaking of which...it's someone's bedtime, isn't it?" Nick said, suddenly, gently touching Hamza's head. He headed up the stairs, flipping the light as he went.

I swaddled myself in the blankets I had tucked in, and tried to close my eyes and fall asleep. The majority of the day had been spent in interviews with the feds, and then with Connor having a staring contest. Now, I'm finally by myself.

It hit me earlier, but I started to think about the case. How all of those families are going to watch as their relative's murderer gets off scot free. How they're going to wake up one morning and hear that.

I've never had a case as important as this, or a case fail as hard as this. But now I still can't shake the feeling I'm missing a piece. Instead of it being a smaller, less important piece, now it feels large, and overwhelming. It has to involve Morgan and Kam now, though. Considering what's happened though, I get the overwhelming feeling that the only person I can trust right now is Nick. We have to finish this investigation. Start up from where I thought I was ending with Brant. What Kam said, when he thought I was Connie.

"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.

The organization of it. Nick might know better than I ever could. This was his case after all...

I better wait until the morning. Now, I'm filled with anxiety though. I'm completely on edge. Though, I'm reaching a point where I feel like I need some sleep, I can't even consider sleeping.

I flipped on the television to distract myself, and it was still on the news.

Detroit Police Commissioner Speaks Out About Serial skillet Case, the chyron read.

I turned up the volume.

"Unfortunately," the commissioner began. "The criminal justice system of Jericho and the federal government both dictate that this case needs to be thrown out. It's the unfortunate reality of living in a justice system that can never be perfect. We thank the detectives on this case who especially felt as though they were doing the best things. It's the fault of many failing systems that this happened."

One of the reporters began to cry out with questions. "Who were the detectives?"

"I am not at liberty to say, but they are not being investigated for involvement. Only as victims themselves."

With that, the commissioner left the stage and instead Ethan Brant (the real one), took his position at the microphone.

"I would only like to announce that we've made an arrest on Morgan Philwood for impersonating an federal officer, obstruction of justice, and criminal racketeering. No charges have been filed against Asher Kam as of now," he said before immediately leaving the stage. I flipped off the television. That was a terrible idea.

I swaddled myself again in the blankets and tried to just hide under them...

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