Trist stood a little baffled but he let Val cling to him until the arms slowly lost some of their frantic grip. It was then that he stepped back. “You okay?” He finally asked but the fear was gone from Val’s eyes.

“Yeah, sorry.” The situation sunk in and he shook his head. “You’re cleaning my apartment?”

Trist shrugged and pulled the gloves off. “You obviously don’t.”

“I do to.”

He only snorted. “If you call this clean.”

“Clean freak.” Val shook his head and sat on the back of the sofa, he started rubbing at his eyes.

“Been called worse.” He smiled a little. “Now, what’s this about my office?”

“The door was kicked in, the books are everywhere. Didn’t you do it?”

A cold shiver traced down Trist’s spine but he shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

It didn’t take much to get them both in the elevator back up two stories and down the hall to Trist’s apartment. Val had pulled the door shut behind him but he hadn’t locked it, maybe not his wisest move but the building was secure. He hadn’t been thinking too clearly in his panic to find Trist and some part of his mind had wanted to leave the door open in case Trist had wandered back.

It was clear from the unhappy look that instantly settled on Trist’s face that things weren’t right. Val kept silent and followed behind the slender man as he crossed to his opened office door. If he’d held any doubts that Trist hadn’t been the one to kick in the office door, they vanished. There was no doubt that the sight of the splintered wood upset and shocked Trist.

“This isn’t right.” He said softly, trailing a hand over the sharp points of the broken doorframe. “Someone broke in here.” He walked into the mess of his office. “Why would someone break in here? Why would they?”

The only warning Val had was Trist’s sharply indrawn breath. He hissed and stumbled a little. The odd black ringed green eyes scanned the room wildly. His breathing came in hitching gasps and one hand rose up to half block his sight. Only, it didn’t work, because whatever Trist was seeing wasn’t in front of his eyes. Val wasn’t sure how long he should wait, how long he should stay hovering to the background letting Trist experience whatever it was he was seeing.

The choice was made for him, Trist stumbled backward and tripped over him. He flailed about, smacking out at Val’s supporting arms and gasping for breath. Val just held onto him tighter and pulled him from the office, struggling against the twisting, panicked body that didn’t seem to know which direction it wanted to escape to.

“Trist, Trist! Focus on me, Trist, focus!” The body slowly stopped struggling, stopped it’s frantic thrashing. “You okay?”

Trist’s sight cleared and he found his lungs burning in gasping sharpness and his arms being held safely to his body by Val’s protective grip. He shook his head, unsure he was able to speak. It didn’t matter, he was unwilling to move, not until his legs felt more steady and less like jelly.

The moment he thought he could stand without leaning on Val’s support he pulled away. “I have to get out of here.” He forced out between numb lips and stumbled to his bedroom.

“What?” Val asked but Trist had already staggered into his bedroom. “Trist? What did you see?” He received no answer but when he followed into the bedroom was startled to see the lost uncertainty gone and Trist moving with steady confidence.

From the back of his closet Trist pulled out the only suitcase he owned, a black square box on wheels, it was large enough to pack for a week and he’d never used it. The zipper was tight but he got the thing open and tossed it onto the bed. Before he could think about things and panic more, he was tossing clothing inside, trying to keep track to make sure he didn’t end up with two dozen pairs of socks and no pants.

“Trist?” Val stood in the door with care, uncertain of how aware the other man actually was.

Trist stopped from tossing another handful of clothes into the case and glanced up. “They were in my office, Val!”

“Who was? You’re not making any sense.”

“I, God fucking bless, this is crazy.” He paused and felt the way his heart was trying to pound an escape from his chest. Only, when he scanned Val’s face, he saw only worry not the look of someone staring at a madman. “The people who shot Gavan, they were here, they were looking for me. I have to get out of here!” He turned back to the driving need to get things packed, diving into his closet to pull sweaters from hangers and stuff them in the case.

Some of Trist’s panic sparked inside of Val but he knew if they both lost it they were in trouble. “Are you certain? I mean, how would they know where you live?”

“I’m certain!” He snapped back. “And how the fuck am I supposed to know how they know! They obviously do!”

“But you said you didn’t remember who shot Gavan, or what happened?”

“I don’t.”

“Then you can’t know for sure that this had anything to do with it.”

“Fuck Val! I do! It was them! I can feel them, smell them, I can’t stay here!” He shouted back and disappeared into the bathroom to gather toothbrush and hairbrush.

“We need to call the police then, if this break in was connected to the shooting they’ll need to know.” He tried to stay calm but wasn’t sure if he was able to continue at it.

“Fine, whatever, so long as I’m not here.” He threw the brushes and other toiletries into the case before making one last sweep over his room. A few more things were gathered and tossed into the messy pile before he flipped the lid shut and forced it to zip closed. It was only then that it occurred to him that he’d no where to go.

Val saw the suddenly lost expression cross Trist’s face and understood it’s source. “Don’t worry, you can come stay with me until the police get this straightened out. Okay?”

“Thanks.” He only hoped that it would be safe to do so. Something at the back of Trist’s mind warned that it wouldn’t be.

 

It was two hours before the police showed up and almost three before they got around to being able or willing to sit down and talk to Val and Trist. Not that it mattered, Trist had moved instantly to hide in Val’s bedroom, sitting in a corner with wide, frightened eyes and asked to be left alone to think. That had left Val alone to pace and fret and, ultimately, bake.

He’d just pulled the second batch of cookies from the oven when his doorbell rang but he already knew who it had to be outside. The building security, already aware of the delicate mental state of the residents of the Maddocks apartment, were going above and beyond to help. They’d guided the police to the abandoned apartment and pointed them to Val.

He pulled open the apartment door and wasn’t greeted to the sight of two beat cop robbery investigating officers. “Ah, good cop and bad cop.” He muttered and held the door open to the same detectives that had questioned him at the hospital. “Come in.”

Bad cop paused. “Is that cookies?”

Val shrugged. “Oatmeal raisin, help yourself.”

Bad cop moved to the counter to eye the line of cooling cookies. “You’re baking?”

“Some people smoke, some eat, I bake, we all deal with stress differently.” It didn’t seem right his choices being questioned by a man that was happily snarfing several of the end results of the choices. “What can I do for you, officers?”

“We got word of the break in, do you think it’s connected?” Good Cop asked as he moved closer to the cookies but obviously holding back from actually eating one.

“I don’t know, Trist seems to think so.”

“We still need to talk to him about the other night, is he coherent?”

Val glanced to the bedroom door. “That would depend on how you define coherent. He was recovering but this has him a little shaken up.”

Bad Cop wiped crumbs from his fingers. “Mr. Maddocks is staying with you?”

“He will be, from now on.”

“About, Mr. Maddocks?” Good Cop started. “How lucid is he?”

“You mean, is he nuts?” Val answered harshly.

The man had the good sense to look at least a little embarrassed. “How well will his testimony hold up in court?”

“It won’t. He’s had more diagnoses than a medical textbook, he’s been in and out of institutions and by his own admission his memory of the shooting is spotty at best. But, remember gentleman, that Trist is rather like a savant, his hunches are usually dead on truth.” He glanced from one police officer to another. “Still want me to haul him out here for you to interview?”

“Please.” Good Cop answered gently.

Trist snorted from the bedroom door way. “No need, I’m here.” He pushed past the men to reach the counter and snagged a couple of cookies before moving to stand behind the kitchen counter to eat them. Very pointedly, he made sure the crumbs were dropped carefully into the sink but Val wondered if Trist had been more interested in keeping the counter physically between him and the cops.

“We need to ask you some questions about the other night, Mr. Maddocks.” Bad Cop began slowly, as if speaking to someone of a very slow wit.

“I’m insane, not stupid.” Trist snapped back, dropping the last half of his cookie to the countertop. Suddenly, it had lost it’s taste.

“What do you remember of the night you and your cousin were attacked?” The Good Cop asked gently.

Trist just shrugged. “Not much, we’d been trying to buy jeans but I don’t deal well with people.” His eyes glanced to the other cop and back again. “I’d stepped outside for some air, there was a guy or a couple of guys maybe, they seemed everywhere. I don’t know, Gav shouted something at them, the gun went off but didn’t make any noise. I freaked out.”

“How many men?”

“I don’t fucking know.” He hissed out. “Look, Gavan is all I really have in this world so if I remembered I’d fucking tell you. I’m not dicking around here.”

Good Cop held up a hand in a soothing way. “Were they white guys, black guys, latino?”

“You know everything I fucking know!” He was getting angry now and knew it was because they were simply grating on his already raw and frayed nerves. “All I think I know is they were nicely dressed. Shiny shoes. But hey, I’m a fucking nut job so that might have been in my head. The drugs the god damn cunt doctors pumped me full of didn’t help with my clarity at the time either.” He rubbed at his eyes. “For all I know, it was some homeless bum trying to steal the clothes.”

Val narrowed his eyes a little at the defeated tone Trist was using. Added with the fact that Trist hadn’t instantly told the cops that the same men had been in his apartment made a big picture of Trist being careful. He just wasn’t certain why, since it had been Trist yesterday urging Val to leave the investigation into Violets death to the police.

“And this break in, you don’t have any enemies? Anyone angry with you?” Good Cop prompted.

“I’m not miss congeniality in case you fucking hadn’t noticed. Most people want to drown me a couple of minutes after meeting me. I’ve pissed off a couple of clients so yeah, I’m sure there are plenty of folks angry enough at me to break in and mess my shit up.” He started biting a nail and wished the cops would go away, he’d just started to feel safe in Val’s bedroom and needed to hide a little longer to regain his balance.

“Clients?” Bad Cop spoke up around another cookie.

“Clients, fucking echo in here.” Trist snapped.

Val caught Trist’s eye and shook his head a little. “Trist is psychic.” And Val believed, and knew the cops wouldn’t.

Bad Cop snorted. “So why don’t you save us the trouble and just use your powers and tell us who shot up your cousin.”

“Because it doesn’t work that way!” Trist shouted back. “I can’t see that!”

“So, what can you see? What kind of psychic are you? The sort that crawls out of the woodwork down at the station every time a kid gets snatched?”

“No profit in that, I’m the kind that can see that oh so cute and oh so underage hooker you fucked instead of busting, way back when you were a beat cop.” Trist sagged against the counter top.

Bad Cop looked to Good Cop and shook his head in denial but both Val and his partner could see the shocked fear in his eyes.

“Are we done here?” Trist moved away from the kitchen. “You’re giving me a headache with your fucking lies.” He brushed past the cops and Val and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him.

Which left Val alone in the living space with two confused and upset officers of the law. “Well.” He started carefully. “I warned you he was a handful. Trist doesn’t go out of his way to endear himself to anyone so if you’re looking for someone that’s carrying a grudge, I don’t know where to tell you to start.”

“Actually, Mr. York,” Good Cop started carefully, pulling his unhappy stare from his partner. “Have you seen these men?” He dropped a blur photo onto the counter.

Val glanced it over, three men in long dark coats, with short cropped hair and that was pretty much all he could make out. The image was fuzzy and black and white. “No, but this isn’t much to go on.”

“These three men came into this building from the service entrance. Now, there’s a camera at the door but not in the stairwell so we can’t say they’re the ones.”

“They don’t look like thieves or someone holding a grudge.”

The two cops exchanged a look before Good Cop continued. “Is there anything you want to tell us, Mr. York? Anything unusual you may have noticed about the Maddocks? Anything that might have caught your eye?”

“You mean besides the fact that Trist knows things he should have no right knowing? No, nothing, what are you implying?” There was something going on that had the cops nervous and it wasn’t Trist’s confessional nature.

“If these are the men that broke into the Maddocks’ apartment I think it’s a little too far of a stretch to think the shooting and the break in are unrelated. These fellows,” he tapped a finger against the pictures. “They’re not common thieves. If you‘re keeping an eye on Mr. Maddocks, keep it a close one.”

“I may not have a degree in criminal science but even I could tell that much.” The pieces clicked into place inside Val’s head. “You think they’re cops?”

The pair exchange looks and Bad Cop shrugged but let the Good Cop speak. “If they’d been cops, there would have been a warrant, a report on a weapon fired, something. If we hear anything, I assure you, we’ll contact you. Until then, don’t let him go wandering, at least until we can figure out what’s going on here.”

Val nodded and started to follow them to the door. “Is Gavan safe?”

“We’re sure he’s fine, it doesn’t appear that whatever is going on is directed at him. Don’t worry, it’s most likely someone carrying a grudge. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Good Cop comforted but Bad Cop looked like he might be carrying his own grudge now. “Until then, don’t do anything stupid and keep an eye on your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. The word tripped Val up because for all his acceptance of the situation it was a different thing entirely to hear someone else accept it. “I will.” He managed to get out and happily shut the door behind the two officers. The entire situation was odd, not just having an acknowledged boyfriend, and Val turned toward his bedroom promising he was going to get out of Trist whatever it was the other man had held back from saying, promising he was going to get some answers.