Purpose (10 page)

“Did you encourage them?” The tone, the way his body tensed, said Ryan thought he did.

“No.” His answer drew a sigh as Ryan pushed his head tighter to Will’s body. “They didn’t need any help to punish him. The police showed up before they killed him. He’s paralyzed from the neck down, probably permanently. He might wish he died, given his state and that he’s facing life in prison.”

“What changed?”

“I’m not sure.” When Ryan exhaled, Will shook his head slightly. “That’s not me being evasive. If I said the Purpose is quiet, you’d ask what caused that, and I don’t know. For reasons I can’t articulate, tonight I knew I didn’t have to kill the guilty.”

Ryan ran his hand lightly over Will’s stomach, tracing an unseen pattern. “Wasn’t it risky, trusting your instincts like that?”

“No, if vengeance wasn’t satisfied, I could’ve gone back and killed him later.” He hadn’t meant it to sound that way.

Ryan jerked up. “That’s so cold.”

“Sorry.” Gently stroking Ryan’s hair, Will hoped it would calm him.

“Would you stop killing people if I asked?”

“That’s not a question you should ask.” Why was Ryan doing this? He wouldn’t like the answer.

“So the answer is no?”

“Correct. I would not stop, even for you.” His answer was blunt but honest.

“That shows where I rate.” The hurt in Ryan’s voice stunned Will.

“Actually, it does, but not the way you are seeing it.”

Ryan snorted. “What other way is there?”

Feeling the warm body pressed against his, Will still wondered if this was a mistake. Ryan might want to understand him, but he acted like Will was a normal person. He wasn’t, and expecting him to be like everyone else could prove fatal.

“Were I to go insane like the others who refused to do
Its
will, as the person closest to me, physically and emotionally, you would likely be the first to die. I won’t allow that to happen.”

“But if the Purpose is calm, that won’t happen.”

The hope in Ryan’s voice troubled Will. If he didn’t understand why Will had to keep silencing the calls for vengeance, this was going to be a recurring conversation.

“Do you know that? I don’t. Right now
It
is quiet, but I don’t know why. Tomorrow
It
could be back to being active. Until I know why, I won’t risk the consequences.”

“What if—”

Will put his finger to Ryan’s lips. “I don’t want to play what-if. Let me figure out what’s happening. Then we can talk about what-if.”

“Suppose you never figure it out?”

Will smirked, unseen, at Ryan’s attempt to skirt the no “what-if” policy. But this got to the heart of the problem. Ryan might not want to stick around if Will still avenged the innocent.

“Then I’ll keep doing what
It
wants. I’ve told you before, I’m too dangerous to lose control.”

Ryan lay quietly, his breathing shallow and fast. After a moment, a drop of water landed on Will’s chest.

“Ryan.” Will twisted to see his companion’s face. “You knew what I am. It’s why I insisted we talk before this could happen. But don’t take my resolve to mean you aren’t important to me. I promise you I’ll find out what is going on, somehow.”

“But what if you can’t?”

Smiling, a feeling that was beginning to come naturally again, he kissed Ryan’s forehead gently. “What did I say about ‘what-if’?”

Ryan laughed softly, seeming to relax. “Okay, but promise you’ll talk to me about how it’s going?”

“If you stick around, I promise to answer your questions.”

“All of them?” He leered suggestively, forcing Will to laugh.

“Yes, all of them.”

Ryan leaned in, kissing him passionately. “I can live with that.”

He rolled on top of Will, grinding their bodies together. Will let his hands run down Ryan’s body, lingering when they reached his nearly smooth butt. Squeezing the cheeks gently, he stifled Ryan’s moan with his lips.

When their tongues separated, Ryan rested his head by Will’s right ear. “Definitely need to get supplies tomorrow.”

“G
OOD
morning, Detective Griffin.” Will was close enough to see the man’s eyes widen. “I see you know who this is.”

The Detective scanned the area around his car.

“We did this yesterday, Detective. Unless and until I want you to find me, you won’t.”

“What do you want?”

“To talk. Alone.” Maybe it would be best to abandon this angle. Last time he tried, it didn’t work out.

“Alone? I don’t know your name or what you look like, and I’m supposed to trust you?”

“Detective, if I wanted to harm you, I would have done it already.” Let him stew on that.

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t give amnesty to criminals.” The indignation in his voice seemed forced to Will.

“Detective Griffin, first, I’m not a criminal. We both know I was saving an innocent victim from harm or worse. What I offer you is a chance to solve dozens of violent serious crimes.”

“And what do I have to give you in return?”

Skepticism? Good. “I need answers to some questions.”

“What questions?”

Will laughed. “I applaud your attempt, but I’ve been around. Either we meet or we don’t. The choice is yours. But bring anyone else, wear a wire, have yourself under surveillance, and I will leave. Trust that I’ll know if you try.”

“You sound like I’ve agreed to meet you. So far, you’ve not offered me anything of value.”

Another bluff. “Very well. I’ll just find the answers I need on my own. I thought it only fair to offer you something in exchange for the information I’ve already taken. Good day, Detective.”

Will paused. Either it worked or he was going to have to do it the hard way.

“Wait!”

Hooked him!
He smiled. “I’m here.”

“When and where?”

“Get in your car, make a right onto Branch Avenue, and stop at the corner of P Street. Stay on your phone, and I’ll meet you there. Remember, I’m watching you.”

He watched the detective search the area. Was he wavering? Looking for backup? If there was trouble, Will was gone.

“Detective, either do it, or don’t. I don’t have all day.” Actually, he had time, but he was ready to move on if this didn’t work.

“Fine.”

Walking toward P Street, he watched Griffin ease the car out of the lot toward the designated place. “You just passed me, Detective. I’m half a block away.”

“Where?”

“Patience. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“This better not be a joke.” Doubt? A reasonable thing.

In the rearview mirror, he could see the detective looking back the way he came, then to the front, then back again. Too bad he wouldn’t find what he was looking for.

Staring at the reflection, Will walked up to the open window. When Griffin looked in the side mirror again, he decided it was time they “met.” One tap on the ever-present box on his hip and a different person “appeared” before the door of the car. Tall, blond, bearded, pierced lip. Same long coat. He needed a new look, but he was partial to the duster.

“Detective.”

“Holy shit!” His arms flew up, then he pulled his gun. “How….”

“Unless you plan to shoot me, you should put that away.”

For a moment, Griffin appeared shocked he had the gun out. He holstered it and started to open the door, but Will pushed it shut.

“No need to get out. I’ll get in.”

Slowly, he walked around the front of the unmarked police car. He gathered his long coat under him and eased into the passenger seat, inches from the detective.

“Are you armed?” Griffin’s hand rested close to his weapon.

Turning away from the detective, Will grabbed the seat belt and pulled it across his body. “Of course, as are you.”

“I’m a cop, I’m allowed. It’s illegal for you—”

“Detective, I just walked up to you without being seen. I could just as easily leave the same way. Moreover, as I pointed out before, if I wanted to harm you, you’d be dead already. You’re going to have to trust that, if nothing else, I won’t harm you.” Locking eyes with the officer, he shrugged. “But if you’d feel better, go ahead and shoot me. It won’t have much of an effect.”

“What, you’re bulletproof?” Griffin hadn’t drawn his weapon again, but Will noted his hand was closer now.

“Yes, I am.” Will kept his gaze fixed on the detective’s eyes. “We waste time. If you want to speak to me, we should go. If not, I’ll take my leave.”

“Go? Go where?”

“Are you familiar with Congressional Cemetery?” It was the only open place Will could think of to speak.

“In Southeast, by the jail?” The suspicion was back.

“The same.”

“Why there?” Griffin’s heart rate spiked, and his eyes narrowed a few centimeters.

“It’s one of the largest open spaces in the city.” Will understood the hesitancy but wanted somewhere no one could listen in. “Again, you’ll need to trust me not to hurt you.”

“Feels like a setup.”

“No more dangerous than having me walking up unseen. At least you can see me now.” There was still adrenaline pumping through the man’s body, but his heart slowed and his breathing eased.

“Good point.”

The drive was short. Twice, Griffin tried to start their conversation, only to be rebuffed. They were doing this on Will’s terms. That much needed to be clear.

Out in the open would make it much harder to record their meeting. Old habits, for sure. He could easily detect any recording devices being used, but it was still easier outside.

They parked on 17th Street. “Where to now?”

“We walk.” Will opened a heavy wrought iron gate, waiting for the detective to join him.

Griffin shook his head, moved through, and tossed a glare in Will’s direction. “Something about you taking me to a cemetery doesn’t sit right.”

Will took the lead, walking past the man. “It’s not you that will end up here, Detective, at least not if I have any say.”

They walked for a minute until Will stopped beside two tall carved wood poles. “Some tribes among the American Indians believed the innocent never rested until their killers were brought to justice.”

“You brought me here to talk about Indian legends standing under a totem pole?”

Could the man be that stupid? No, of course he wasn’t. He was scared.

“No, Detective.” Will continued walking. “I came to make a deal.”

“I told you once, I don’t deal with criminals.”

“That’s good, for I’m no criminal. I’m the spirit of vengeance.”

“Spirit?” He spat the word out right before laughing. “You look pretty real to me.”

“Do I?” Will touched the man’s mind, telling it he wasn’t there.

“Holy shit!” Griffin spun around, frantic. “What just happened?”

Will waited until they were facing each other, then “reappeared,” but not before changing appearances again. Shorter, long brown hair, no piercing, but thick glasses. “What do you mean?”

Griffin jumped again. “You….”

“Do you believe me now? Or should I show you again?”

“Okay, you’re a spirit. What do you want with me?”

The sigh died on his lips. Reading his mind would be easier. Why did he engage in this dance?

“Why is Agent Barrington interested in the case?”

Griffin stopped, eyes narrowed. Using the moment, Will slipped into the man’s mind. As hoped, the mention of the FBI’s interest brought all the memories to the front of the detective’s thoughts. This was why he bartered with the man.

“Even if I knew who that was, I wouldn’t share details of an investigation.”

“Don’t insult me, Detective. I’ve seen the reports—WACIIS, I believe it’s called. You noted the agent’s interest. I want to know more.” He had his answers already. Now, to keep up appearances.

“Thought you said you weren’t a criminal. Last I read, burglary’s a crime.” Pathetic. Did he really think to divert Will so easily? Fine, he’d play along.

“Burglary? I’m confused.”

“Only place you could have seen that report is if you broke into my office.” Fixing Will with a hard glare, Griffin seemed to be trying to intimidate him. Unbowed, Will maintained a flat affect. “But you already admitted that yesterday.”

Now it was veiled threats? “How much would an informant be worth who could tell you the name and location of every murderer who killed an innocent victim? One who is never wrong?”

Irritation washed away, replaced by anger. Will continued his stony gaze, giving nothing away.

“You’re some piece of work. I’m not gonna bargain with you for details of an active case. First you steal my files, then you want me to give you details of our investigation of you, and in exchange you’ll give me information on the dead bodies you send me. Boy, that’s one hell of a deal. I must have ‘sucker’ tattooed on my forehead.”

Will shrugged. He had what he wanted already. “Closure means nothing?”

“You think this is about case closure rates?” That struck a nerve. “It’s about justice, not vengeance.”

Rather than answer, he kept walking, coming to a stop before several rows of squat square markers. “Are you familiar with the history of this place? When this country was new, every senator or congressman who died in office was given a marker here. Hence the name Congressional Cemetery.”