way. I snorted in an, ‘I don’t know what the hell is going on and I’m not happy about it’ way. I took another sip of my coffee and let his hands hang for a while, just because I could. There was certainly a level of satisfaction to be gained from the fact that I had the power to make him look like a mime stuck in a box…
“Please?” he asked.
I set the mug of coffee down hard enough to nearly break the cup and then fished out the key from my pocket. After unlocking each cuff, I studied the industrial-grade steel chain link that Alex had snapped open. From the looks of it, the chain could have been a plastic toy. But when I held it between my fingers, I felt its weight. These were police-issue handcuffs and, as such, they weren’t meant to snap in half. They were intended to contain the strongest of suspects. And usually, they did.
Not liking any of this, I tossed the handcuffs in my trash can beneath my desk. They made a bigger clang than I was prepared for and I winced at the noise. So did Alex, making a face that suggested the cacophony had, in fact, hurt his ears.
“There’s nothing wrong with your handcuffs, Chief.”
“What?” I demanded, nearly growling the word at him.
He shrugged again, in that unconcerned sort of way he had that rubbed me the wrong way. “You were wondering if something was wrong with your handcuffs,” he explained and then smiled at me again. “I was just answering your question.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the handcuffs,” I muttered. “You just broke them in half because you’re that strong.”
Alex chuckled as he shook his head. Then he picked up his coffee and sipped daintily, as if to show me his softer side. He even stuck out his pinky a little. I nearly laughed at how absurd he looked. Then the near-laugh began to incorporate the absolute absurdity of the entire night, of the entire last few days.
“I agree,” he said, setting the coffee down. “It is absurd.”
“Get out of my head.”
“I wish I could, Chief. But no can do. Your thoughts are as clear as day.” He inhaled deeply, as if this information bothered him. “I can’t just turn them off. Even if I wanted to.” Then he reached for his coffee and brought it to his lips. “And, in this case, I don’t want to.” He arched his eyebrows at me over the rim of the cup like he thought he was Groucho Marx or something.
Asshole…
“This isn’t happening.”
“But it is, Chief.”
I didn’t have anything else to say so we fell silent. But silence and I aren’t exactly well-acquainted, so I decided to play a little game with Mr. Mind Reader…
Behind me, the little office window rattled as an angry wind blew against it. And as I listened, the sound of sleet began tapping against the windowpane, first lightly, then stronger. The soothing sound was suddenly interrupted when Alexander began chuckling.
“The answer is fifteen women,” he said, sounding impressed. “Two of whom I loved, one of whom is dead.”
My mouth wanted to drop open. He was good, very good. Yes, I was testing his damn mind-reading ability by asking him in thought how many women he’d slept with. Even though he’d obviously passed my test, I composed myself—I am, after all, a professional…
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I began to doubt whether or not he was being honest about the fifteen, but I stopped myself from thinking as much because I wasn’t in the mood to hear his defense. “And the other?”
“The other one—you mean the one I loved?” he asked, as if clarifying whether I was talking about women or pairs of socks.
“Yes,” I grumbled.
“Loved is the operative word,” he said with another shrug. “She broke my heart.”
I didn’t have to be telepathic to know where this was going. “She ran off with a friend of yours.”
“Ran off is a little bit inaccurate, as she still lives on the reservation,” he said as he extended his hands out before him, interlacing his fingers as he did so. “And it wasn’t with a friend of mine. It was with my brother.”
“Oh, shit,” I said in surprise as the vision I’d had when I’d touched John Doe suddenly returned with a vengeance.
How could you do this to me? Alex had asked him. I love her and you’re my brother!
“Yep, shit is a good word for it,” he continued with a nod.