Linger: Dying is a Wild Night (A Linger Thriller Book 1) by Robert Gregory Browne, Edward Fallon Page A

for years. I’m guessing he followed standard protocol, looked into both guards and didn’t find any ties to your mother. You talk to your dad about this?”
    “Not a chance. The subject’s off limits with him.”
    “Did you check the file?”
    “That’s my next stop. What about your partner? The one who went with you. Is he still around?”
    Rusty shook his head. “Name was Abernathy. Good man, but he had his share of problems. Started acting up shortly after that.”
    “In what way?”
    “He got busted for forcibly sodomizing a hooker and wound up eating his own gun.”
    “Jesus,” Kate said.
    Rusty took another long drag. “That’s the problem with this job. You stick around long enough, see the things we see, it’s like a virus. Some people have a natural immunity and some people get eaten alive.” He dropped the half smoked cigarette to the rooftop, stamped it out and smiled. “And some people buy a plane ticket to Amsterdam.”

25

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    W ESTON WAS DOZING IN HIS CHAIR when the door opened and Lieutenant Messenger brought Christopher into the interview room.
    This was a surprise. What was she planning now?
    But as he shook himself alert, he noted almost immediately that the lieutenant’s demeanor had softened somewhat.
    “I’m cutting you loose,” she said. “Both of you.”
    Even more of a surprise. “What?”
    She came over to unlock his cuffs and he saw a vague but discernible uneasiness in her eyes, as if she hadn’t quite found her footing after a bad spill. She seemed unsure of herself but was trying to hide it.
    “What changed your mind?” he asked.
    “I don’t see any point in holding you anymore. You were right. The doctor who examined Christopher says there’s no evidence he’s been mistreated—not lately, anyway—and I’m willing to cut you some slack on the trespassing and obstruction beefs.”
    She unhooked him and Weston rubbed his wrists, wondering what was going on here. An hour ago she had practically called him a murderer and child molester.
    “What are you not telling me?”
    She paused, and in that moment seemed to regain some of her balance. “There’s a condition to your release.”
    Ah. So there it was. “Which is?”
    “You let me buy you some lunch.”
    “What?”
    “I’m sure Christopher’s hungry, and you and I have a lot to talk about.”
    This didn’t make any sense. What could they possibly have to talk about that hadn’t already been discussed? Unless…
    He looked at Christopher. “What did you tell her?”
    “It was more show than tell,” she said.
    Weston understood what that meant, and it explained her initial uneasiness. He’d felt the same way the first time the boy had opened up to him.
    But why? Why would he tell her anything? They had talked about this numerous times, and had agreed it was best to keep a low profile. Sharing his gift with a stranger—a stranger who was a cop no less—was dangerous business.
    Weston waited for Chris to chime in, but got nothing from him. He was gone, in the haze, wandering in whatever playground waited for him there.
    “What did he show you?”
    “That’s what we need to talk about.”
    “And if I refuse?”
    She held up the cuffs. “Forty-eight hours, remember?”

26

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    H E ORDERED CHRISTOPHER A BOWL of chili—one of his favorites—but it was doubtful he’d even touch it. They sat at a table at the back of a small diner across from the police department, the boy rocking quietly and getting more than a few stares.
    When they had first stepped inside, Weston had looked around, saw tables full of police officers and wondered if this place was the best choice to be having this particular conversation. If the lieutenant wanted to talk about the things Chris had shown her, it might’ve been wise to find someplace a little more private.
    But she didn’t look concerned. Every bit of her trepidation had vanished and her focus seemed to be limited to the three of them. And after they