Sonatorrek: Reginsmál - 7

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Kane remains fixated on his belief that he's found a pattern behind the incidents, and his spiral down with Brand continues.



The photos and case files had already overflowed the cork board above the desk in the motel, and he was now pinning them to the wall with small pushpins. It always helped Kane to be able to step back and look at the component pieces involved. Pieces were all he had. He’d made calls all over the state, getting local sheriffs to fax over information. There was only the shade of a connection; a sketch of actual incidents that seemed to have a similar element involved that mapped out on a logical timeline.

Kane couldn’t shake the feeling, as he held up disappearing person reports that there was more involved. The chronology fit, as did the deliberate attempts to obfuscate the crimes. The pattern suggested that his target was smart and knew investigation techniques. Enough to vary his patterns just enough to avoid a being linked in the normal information sharing between departments. There was a knock on the door, and Kane got up to let Brand in, padding back from the door in a t-shirt and shorts.

"I've got some more statements from the locals about our boy Don..." she began as she walked in, then stopped, looking at the spread of information across the walls and the desk. "Jesus, Boy Scout. What is all this?"

"There is something very not right around here, Brand." He tossed a file back on to the desk. "Lots of weird little incidences that look random at first, but then you start to see hints of a pattern."

"It's a boondocks town with not enough entertainment for its teenagers, there's going to be weird shit going on." Brand rolled her eyes as she tossed her statements on top of Kane's pile of research. "If you think something else is going on, call it in and get us backup. We've got our own case, remember? Gang war and mutant gods?"

"Yeah, I know. But we can't do anything until we get the results from the sample. Until then, if there's something out there, these people are totally unprepared for it; the police, the state troopers..."

"I'm hearing a lot of 'if's' Boy Scout." Brand peered at the wall, trying to see Kane's pattern. "I have to admit, all I'm seeing is a lot of random crap. Nothing to tie it together."

"There's a couple of elements that are common - the Norse pagan angle, the disappearance of mixed blood Aboriginal women-" He glanced up from his file, and suddenly images of the previous two nights washed over him for a minute. What had he been thinking? "and the telltales of what's missing. It's like they have our playbook, and if they can't hide things, they wipe out everything to cover their tracks."

Brand frowned. "If you're right and this is the work of one person - and that's a pretty big if - you're saying... what? That they could be in the job?"

"Maybe. At least smarter than your usual crime of passion perp. Doesn't it strike you as an odd coincidence? We come out here to talk to a guy who thinks he's Thor, and it just happens there's all these incidents that can be linked by the same rough interests?"

"You said yourself the local kids are into this black Nordic death metal crap. It might be the other way 'round - when Don cracked, he latched onto the local obsession to identify with." Brand shrugged. "We can keep an eye out for things, sure, while we're doing the job we were sent here to do. If there's something, we can call it in."

“This feels a lot more thought through than just local kids getting messages from Satan from playing records backward. It’s almost like they know that’s the obvious angle, like setting up an obvious suspect to distract from the real perp.” Kane chewed his thumbnail. “There’s someone very smart and very sick orchestrating this in the background. I’d stake my badge on it.”

“You might have to if you don’t get something solid to justify the time and effort you’re spending on this.”

“You know, not everything comes in a neat folder from Duncan, Abigail. This is old school police work.” He stood up and tapped on the map he had marked up. “Something is out there, and this place is not equipped to stop it. When I run this guy to ground, I’m going to take him down so hard that he’s never going to hurt anyone again.”

“You have no proof, Kane. Nothing except a map and a whole lot of supposition.” Brand crossed her arms over her chest. “Unlike you, I have a career to think of.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that clear. But I’m not going to let someone treat these people like prey. And if that means jamming my badge up their ass, so be it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always the hero, aren’t you.” She turned away, moving out of his line of sight. Kane took a look at the file in his hand, wondering again if she was right. He was sure he had something, but it was thin. He was relying as much on intuition as fact. His attention was locked on the police report when a pair of black panties were dropped on the file in his hands. “You have better things to do. Get over here.”

“Brand...” Kane started, already wondering what he had done the night before.

“Don’t talk, Boy Scout.” She moved to the bed, sitting down with her legs spread, her skirt pulled up. “You have other things to do with that tongue of yours.”

Kane paused. He should say no. He should throw her out of his room. She wasn’t anyone he wanted to be with, because she didn’t care about anything but her career.

But he didn’t. Instead, he closed the file, walked over to the bed, and got on his knees.