Page 6 of Inextricably Tied

He knows how the OID operates. The things they ask without thought, without consideration. The selfish demands they make of people. An ember of rage starts to flare inside him when Tamneth speaks.

“We want you to use your abilities on Raymond Reid.”

“You’re out of your goddamn mind.” A threat rumbles through Flint’s voice. “Absolutely not.”

For once, Harbinger doesn’t give it a second of consideration. “I’ve told you a hundred times, it doesn’t work like that. With living things, I get the present. Emotions. With objects, I get the past. Memories. I can’t make them cross. And I’m not getting tied to a fucking serial killer forever. Besides,” her fingers press to the table, “banshee abilities are still considered hearsay. We have you to thank for that. If that’s why you brought us here, you’re wasting all of our time.”

“We thought you might say that —”

“Then why would you fucking ask?” Flint snarls. Tamneth holds up both hands in surrender, trying to quell their indignation.

“We have to try.” Tamneth looks exhausted, but Flint can’t scrounge up any sympathy for him. Not when the OID has brought so many of these problems on themselves with shoddy tactics, racial profiling, and internal misconduct. “These girls’ families have no answers. Reid hasn’t talked since we arrested him. He lawyered up right away, and our leads have dried up. Without any physical evidence, it’s going to be next to impossible to get a conviction.”

“She’s not reading him.”

Harbinger rests a glove on Flint’s wrist. It’s the only thing that makes him realize his red eyes are flaring. That he hasn’t breathed since Tamneth suggested it.

“I’m not reading him,” she confirms. It loosens a bit of the stress strapped across Flint’s chest. “If that’s all — “

“Wait.” The situation is slipping through Tamneth’s grasp much faster than he anticipated. His teeth grind as if he hates to admit it. “There is another option.”

Flint huffs a breath. “Your ‘other option’ had better be real fucking good after that stunt.”

Tamneth’s gaze cuts between them. “We’ve acquired an object of Reid’s. We’d like you to read it.”

Harbinger’s eyes narrow. “And what is ‘it,’ exactly?”

“It’s magical. Something we haven’t seen before. We can’t be sure exactly what it does.”

“Where’d it come from? Why don’t you bring me his car keys or something?”

“Raymond Reid was meticulous. Very private. Maliciously clever: we have no record of him needing glasses. We suspect he used them to appear more mild-mannered. When we arrested him, his house was spotless. Every inch clean, no trinkets or personal effects or much furniture. It’s as if he has somewhere else to store things, but there’s no other property on record, no storage unit, no family. We never recovered his vehicle. Our forensics found no traces on anything.”

“Then where’d you find this object?”

Tamneth’s eyes are cool on Flint. “We recovered it from a private stash Reid kept hidden in his home. This was the only object there.”

Harbinger mulls over the possibility, but Flint doesn’t need to. “It doesn’t matter. She’s not doing it.

Tamneth eases to his feet. “Now, wait —”

But Flint’s ready to shut Tamneth down when Harbinger’s hand closes over his. She doesn’t look at him, which means one thing. Flint’s stomach drops.

She speaks before he can. “You’d have to pay us. A lot. Double what you’re thinking.”

“Harbinger —”

“We could compel you,” Tamneth challenges. “Charge you with impeding the investigation, obstruction of justice. Reopen the restaurant investigation…” Tamneth’s eyes cut to Flint. “And a few others.”

Flint doesn’t let his expression shift. Harbinger leans across the table, helmet winking in the fluorescents. “We can sit in a jail cell for a few days. It won’t get you any closer to solving this case.”

Tamneth’s jaw clicks. “Fine.”

“Put it in writing.”

Flint moves between them. “You can’t be fucking seri-”

For the first time, the edge in Tamneth’s voice sticks in Flint’s thoughts like a briar. “If Harbinger reads this item for us, we’re prepared to compensate you both.”