Chapter 17
Bryan turned the corner into another alley and trudged forward. The paper sack and thermos weren't by any means heavy, but after three-quarters of an hour, he was more than tired of juggling them and the folder he had stuffed under his arm. "Yeah, I'm an idiot."
He stopped at the far end of the alley, scanned the street and saw nothing. It was probably time to go home, or more likely well beyond it. Still cursing himself, he turned back down the way he'd come and began the walk back to his car, only to stop dead in his tracks.
In the middle of the alley, out of nowhere, stood William.
"Jesus! Don't you know not to sneak up on a cop?" Bryan asked. William only stared back. Bryan took the man in. He looked tired, more haggard than he had the night before, as if he was changing back into the man in his hospital photo. "Right."
With a deep breath to steady his legs, Bryan took a step forward. "William, do you know who I am? I'm Bryan Mickelson. I'm a detective."
William just stood there. It looked like he was staring at something beside Bryan.
After a moment of waiting, Bryan raised the bag and thermos. "Brought dinner for both of us." Bryan adjusted the folder under his arm, hunkered down against the wall and pulled two foil wrapped pitas from the paper bag. "Falafel or Gyros?"
He saw William's eyes fix on the paper bag, stay there. Bryan held it up. "What?"
"Different bag," William said.
"Oh." He dropped it to the ground and held out the sandwiches again. "I can't go to the old place anymore. After last night. Had to find a new restaurant. Less questions that way."
He fidgeted as William switched his attention from the crumpled bag to his face. "You have a thing for hummus."
If it was an insight into Bryan's thoughts like the one last night, it paled in comparison. Bryan looked down at the sandwiches. He didn't care about hummus one way or another. But neither had Claire. In their years together, they had only eaten at a Greek restaurant once and she hadn't loved it or hated it. And they had never taken the baby with them to a falafel place. There were no memories to change the flavor. It was something he could eat and think only of the food.
Then, he stopped his train of thought. It hadn't been some psychic vision of Bryan's taste buds. It had been a joke. The schizophrenic was teasing him. Bryan smiled and shook his head.
William reached out slowly, took the falafel. He swayed in place a long moment, then slid down the brick wall. Bryan watched and poured steaming liquid into a pair of cups. He took a bite of his sandwich as William did the same. "Well, isn't this cozy. The best dinner date I can get is a schizophrenic who I'm supposed to put in jail." He watched William turn his attention between three different points in empty air. "And my boss thinks I'm unstable." He passed a cup to William. "Cheers."
"Cheers." William sipped at the cup and closed his eyes. Bryan could see they were sharper, more focused when they reopened.
Bryan waited. No other response came. "Herbal tea. Didn't want to see you on caffeine." He saw William take a deeper sip.
"Hmm. She liked this," William said.
Bryan knew immediately who William meant, and didn't like it. "Jessica likes tea?" William turned to him, held contact for a moment and returned to his falafel.
"No fries on the sandwich? It's good that way."
Bryan waited for more, looked down at his own fry free pita. "I'll ask for them next time."
"They do get soggy though," William said.
Bryan smiled, nodded.
The two men ate in silence. William picked fallen crumbs from his filthy hoodie and replaced them on his sandwich as a scraggly cat wandered down the alley and stopped to regard them. William cocked his head at the animal, then reached over and pulled a slab of meat from Bryan's gyro. "Hey," Bryan said. The cat took it greedily from William's fingers. They watched the cat eat and Bryan turned to his companion. "What did it say?"
William met his gaze, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Did it say something to you?" Bryan asked.
After a long moment, William finally replied. "It's a cat." Bryan looked back to his gyro until William spoke again. "Maybe you are."
"Are what?"
"Unstable," William said.
Bryan stared for a moment, then snorted. "You've got to work on your timing." He watched as William finished off his dinner and did the same. "I need to take you in. You know that." Memories of the fight he witnessed blurred in Bryan's mind. William had been fast and strong, though he didn't look like he could manage to move that way. And how many police had he evaded after the fight? "But I don't think there's any way I can force you," Bryan said.
Nothing again from William, who simply drank from his cup and leaned his head back against the bricks, eyes closed.
Bryan took another sip as well. The tea felt dry in his throat. He looked down at it, black in the dim light. "William. Did you escape because of Jess?" He didn't want to hear the answer that he was sure would come.
William's eyes stayed closed. "The voices."
That hadn't been what he had expected. "The voices you hear. What about them?"
"They told me to."
"Told you to do what?"
Another furrowed brow from William. "Are you slow?" William opened his eyes and locked them on something Bryan couldn't see. "I'm here to protect her."
"Protect her from what?" Bryan asked.