Six

Getting a go-ahead to involve a therapist was not half the process Sebastian remembers it to be. He assumes it is because the whole county is watching but he cares less about why they are more inclined to let the case move fast. He only cares about catching the people that did this. He will not admit to himself that it has suddenly become his new obsession other than the late-night drinks he normally takes before bed. 

Today he had not had a single word with Maria neither did he kiss his daughter good morning but here he is again, staring at Christian, exactly his daughter's age.

“Did you see anybody walking down with her?”

“No. I didn't even see her until she got very close. Like I knew there was someone there, or at least, something but I couldn't see it.”

“And what time was this again?”

“Around what time was that?”

“I don't know, it was a few minutes past my bedtime.”

Sebastian turns to Sophie, as though redirecting the question to her. 

“A few minutes past nine.” he turns back to Christian without as much as an acknowledgement to Sophie.

“What were you doing awake past your bedtime.” The question feels like a threat to Christian and he turns to his mother to seek approval. Nodding softly, he continues.

“I always stay up past my bedtime. Some days, I play the video games and some days, I just stare outside my window.”

“And I am guessing Friday was one of those days you stared outside?” 

Christian nods.

“And what did you see?”

“I already told you before,” Christian retorts immediately. 

Sebastian knows the boy had said it and he had asked him the question over and over but he can’t help but ask again. The piece feels accurate, too accurate that he feels something is missing. He knows something is missing but without his facts, without the details straightened out in front of him, he knows he needs more or he might as well call it an inactive case.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to answer any more questions. Let’s go to your room.” Sophie helps Christian who is delighted to escape Sebastian’s presence, to his feet. She exchanges a pitiful glare with Sebastian before escaping through the stairs. 

Sebastian brushes his hand against his face. It is the same wall, just like the first, there are no leads. He feels like a ball trapped in a closed space and continuously in motion but nothing there is helpful, just walls that bounce him back.

He follows them upstairs, but takes a different turn that heads to Laurel’s room. His conflict is beautifully placed on his face. He is thinking again and the urge to get drowned in the stench and smoke of cigarette is back again but this is his escape. He knows it.

He tells himself he is doing this to catch the bad guys. Someone has to chase them down. Hunt. Hunt—his brain corrects. He is hunting silhouettes and he knows it. Sometimes the criminals are not found until they want to. Two things bring a criminal to justice.

A mistake

They want to be found.

His own words and now they bite him. He believes they must have made a mistake, somehow. A rogue criminal. True. But he also knows a person capable of mistakes will never hit the Browns.

The pieces are there. They are laid out in front of him but he can barely reach them.

 He reaches for the knob of the door; Doctor Silas is sitting on opposite sides with Laurel. They seem to be having a more receptive conversation than the one Sebastian just finished. He motions on Silas to excuse him for a moment.

“Give these photos to her. Ask her if she recognizes any.”

“It’s too early for that, Sebastian.”

“It’s not. With every day we spend trying to take things slow, the criminal goes further. The track gets cold.” Silas remains still, not looking at him. She doesn’t say anything. Just there with a declining look that somehow says, you need to get a rest.

“It’s just a bunch of photos,” Sebastian says.

“First is to establish trust. I am barely doing that. I don’t know the situation of her mental state now and you want to bump her with photos of criminals, one of which might be her captor. Sebastian, it’s a firm No!”

“Fine, I will do it myself.” Sebastian tries to get in.

“Sebastian, if you don’t stop, I will call the chief and let him know you are distorting an ongoing session with a responsive patient.”

Fuck!

Sebastian backs off, a feeling of rage and frustration travelling through his veins. He nods in defeat and saunters off as Silas returns back into the confinement of Laurel’s room.

Sebastian reaches downstairs again. He gives up, knowing it’s another without finding the men behind the crime.

“Why?” Sophie calls out from behind. She glides her fingers on the rails and for the first time and Sebastian pays attention to her. Laurel has stolen her amber eyes and petite body but has also stolen her father’s height. She lets her fingers off the rails.

“Why did they let her go now, Sebastian?”

“Nothing is certain now, and she did say Jeremy helped her escape.”

“Tell me, how many times have criminals forsaken their own all in the name of love?” Sophie is standing close to Sebastian and even with the closeness, she probably still doesn’t feel she is close enough. She doesn’t feel intimidated by the man in front of her. Her husband is bigger but Sebastian is younger and only has a few grey hairs.

Sebastian feels threatened by the close proximity and he takes a short step back.

“Almost never.” Sebastian’s voice is low and his dark eyes are locked by Sophie’s darting gaze.

“I don’t buy the story. I think there is more. I know she is my daughter but I don’t buy it. What do you think, detective?” She swivels away from him, her tank top carefully placed on her body. She is thinking and even so, she is intent and cautious of what she says. Sebastian on the other hand only stands fixed to his position, his T-shirt straightened as always and his eyes follow the woman in front of him. 

He finally makes up his mind to leave on seeing that Sophie’s attention now belongs to her thought. 

“Sebastian.” Sebastian stops to and arches his head towards her direction.

“Find out what really happened.” He nods and exits the house.