The police hadn’t been much help. Not much help at all. It wasn’t really their fault, Tarin knew it. Lee’s disappearance was simply one in a long line, and there didn’t appear to be any leads to follow. How did you find someone when they seemed to have disappeared into thin air? There were no credit cards to trace, no fingerprints or (God forbid) blood trails. It was an impossible case.

That didn’t mean that Tarin was going to give up.

He’d stopped drinking. Lenna and Shin had seen to that in a couple of different ways. His face still stung a bit when he thought about that night. He had some great friends. He wouldn’t let them down, not like he’d been letting Lee down by wallowing in his own self pity. Tarin didn’t want to think about that, though. There were other things on his mind as he mad his way to the main precinct of the NYPD.

He’d dressed conservatively, the cool weather making his long-sleeved t-shirt blend in perfectly. Police still didn’t react incredibly well to all the tattoos. His multi-hued hair was covered too, he didn’t know where he’d gotten the Pittsburg hat, but there it was. They could deal with the earrings. Loads of people had them these days.

Tarin was going to the MRC.

Sure, the regular cops had exhausted their resources, butTarin hadn’t known that the Mutant Related Crimes division existed. The NYPD was huge, and there probably wasn’t a whole lot of information passed from department to department. Tarin got it. For now.

There were mutants working in the MRC, and he and Lee were mutants. Surely they could do something. At least they could try. That’s all he wanted. More people on his side.

Into the precinct Tarin went, asking the woman at the front desk for directions. He’d made an appointment…he was supposed to be meeting with a Detective. Following the directions from the main reception desk, Tarin made his way through a door and into something far more normal than he’d expected.

There were desks like Tarin had seen in countless police stations across the country, and it had the comfortable bustle of a place where work was actually being done. People were doing things here. Case boards were pushed up against walls, and people drank coffee while looking through files. Wanted and missing posters lined the walls. Would Lee’s face be up there?

A high-pitched and squeaky voice pulled Tarin from his thoughts, and he looked at the diminutive woman curiously, “Can I help you sir?”

”Oh, yes. I’m supposed to be meeting with one of your detectives? My name is Tarin Brooks.”

>> “Oh, yes. I’m supposed to be meeting with one of your detectives? My name is Tarin Brooks.”

The secretary, one a peppy redhead by the name of Georgia nodded as she peeked over the edge of her desk at the man and immediately opened the appointment book. She gnawed on a piece of gum in that annoying way that was not too loud, nor was it too quiet. It was just on the cusp of being irritating since it so got under one’s skin. After a minute or running her finger down the length of the page, she came to a stop and nodded her head with finality.

“Ah! Mr. Brooks. There you are,” she smiled as he picked up her phone and dialed the number for the detective who had been assigned for this meeting. As she waited for the line to pick up, she smiled at Tarin and eyed him closely. “Anyone ever tell you that you look like someone famous?”

***

Jorge sighed as he stood in front of a white dry erase board and stared at the photos that were plastered on it. He had a busy load for the day but it did not mean that he could not lend his expertise whenever he was asked. Yeah some of the guys who worked back here could be jerks, but still they knew how to do their jobs and they did them well. Besides, the jerk blanket did not apply to everyone. Jorge did not work in generalities like that. Instead he leaned back a bit as she stared at the photo of a dead body. Next to that was written a huge question mark on the board.

“So…what does forensics say? There has to be something.”

“That’s the thing, Cervantes,” said one of the officers as he shook his head and circled the question mark. “What is there for forensics to work with? There’s no blood, not puncture wounds, no signs of struggle, no prints. It was simply as if…”

“…she laid down at died.” Jorge sighed as he continued to stare the body of the young girl and shook his head. “Well I guess we’ll have to see what the coroner says. Because…” Jorge walked up to the board and stared at the photo a bit more closely. “This doesn’t look like a crime of passion. It’s too – ”

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing…!!

Jorge paused as he glanced over to his desk and set the dry erase marker down. This was not his case but still it had managed to peak his interest. So when he picked up the phone, he was already a little irritated by the interruption, but more so when he heard who was on the line.

“Cervant – ?”

“Heeeello Jorge! I have your appointment here. Mr. Brooks.”

Jorge winced and pulled the phone away. He sighed as he snapped his fingers to regain his hearing and after a second he replaced the receiver cautiously to his ear.

“That’s fine, go ahead and send him back.”

He groaned as he unbuttoned his tan coat and revealed the blue work shirt he wore underneath, along with the deep brown tie he wore. As he moved into his seat behind his desk, he pulled out the slip of paper that told him what his meeting would pertain today. A man by the name of Brooks would be coming in to speak about his wife. He would hope that he could be of help as he glanced over the file and awaited his entrance into the office.

He didn’t have to wait long. The redhead got on the phone, spoke to someone, and a few moments later, Tarin was being led through the bustling work room to a desk. The man seated at that desk was a little different than what Tarin had expected and he took a moment to take his measure.

Tarin hadn’t had the best relationship with cops over the course of this life. Knowing things that no person should know, especially when they related to murder cases, had thrown a bit of a wrench in that relationship. He’d always tried to do the right thing, and early on it had gotten him tossed in more holding tanks than he wanted to admit. The cops never found anything, of course, and he was always released, but meeting cops had always resulted in a move soon after.

Until New York. Until Lee.

He looked again at the detective. He looked a little tired, a little tried, but mostly relaxed as he sat in his chair.

Tarin held out a hand.

“Detective. My name is Tarin Brooks.”

Introductions were made and Tarin took a seat in a chair on the opposite side of Cervantes’ desk.

”How much do you know about my wife’s case? Did Metro send anything over?”

>> “Detective. My name is Tarin Brooks.”

Jorge nodded as he stood up and shook the man’s hand firmly. “Cervantes, Jorge Cervantes.” he said as he waved his hand towards the empty seat next to his desk. “Please, have a seat, so we can get started.”

>> ”How much do you know about my wife’s case? Did Metro send anything over?”

Jorge sighed a little as he picked up the folder from his desk. It was a standard brown folder with a paper clip attached to one end. He held it a little cautiously before as he regarded the man sitting in front of him. It was obvious the man was worried, especially if he had been to through the Missing Person process before. He did not seem like the type to give up and that gladdened Jorge just a little. He ran a hand over his bad five o’clock stubble and carefully opened the folder and handed it over.

“Just this,” he said at least. “A single folder for Lee, your wife, I’m sorry to say.” he sighed as he sat back in his chair and pulled a pen and paper from his desk. He tapped it idly as he watched the man go over it, or simply stare at the photo that was paper clipped inside. “I’m sorry Mr. Brooks, but it seems that Metro was just…stumped. I hate to be blunt, but…it does seem as if she just…simply vanished.”

Jorge could not even comprehend of what could possibly going through the man’s mind. His wife, according to his statement, had simply vanished. Disappeared like a puff of smoke into the open air outside. What could that possible do to a man. To lose someone you cared about for so long and so much. And Jorge thought he could see that pain in the man’s face.

“But this is not to say that I won’t try,” Jorge said honestly. “We’ll start with fresh eyes on this. I’m not promising anything, as much as I would like to, but we’ll do what we can.” he tried to be encouraging as he clicked his pen and jotted down a couple notes. “Now, some time has passed, so it details may be a little hazy, but I need to know everything. When you last saw her, what she was wearing, habits, but most of all, anything, ANYTHING no matter how small or miniscule that could be out of the ordinary.”

One folder. One little folder. Suddenly, Tarin wanted a drink. He shook his head and took what the Detective was offering. After everything, this was all that Lee amounted to. One folder. Tarin opened it and looked, eyes barely scanning over the notes that had been taken by Metro before they fell on the picture that was paper clipped to one corner. He’d brought that picture in. It was Lee over the last summer, on the 4th of July. They’d gone to the park and watched the fireworks. They’d talked about how next year they’d be juggling a baby.

Tarin swallowed and took a deep breath.

Jorge spoke, and Tarin nodded his head. The detective wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. If he hadn’t been able to find Lee with all of the channels he could go through, it was unlikely that the Police would know more. There were, however, things Tarin simply couldn’t do.

”I understand that Detective.” he said, voice hitching slightly on the words. ”But the more people I have working on the case, the more likely it is that someone will find something out. “

Jorge asked for the same things that all the other detectives had asked for when Tarin had first reported Lee missing. He took a deep breath and nodded his head.

”The most remarkable thing is how unremarkable the whole thing is.” Tarin said with a shrug, sinking back into the chair and setting the folder on the edge of Jorge’s desk. Tarin lifted his hat to run his hand through his hair and sighed.

”The last time I saw her was that morning. She was still in bed when I left. We….are expecting, and she was still having some trouble with Morning Sickness. This had happened often enough that I just kissed her goodbye and went to work.”

”We own a shop a little ways away from our apartment. Normally she walks to work. It sounds strange because she’s pregnant, but her mutation makes sure she has plenty of energy…she didn’t show up, but I figured she was just feeling really poorly. We don’t do a lot of work at the shop anymore, so it wasn’t a big deal. I went home, and she was gone.”

Tarin paused, letting it all sink in from his perspective. Surely all this information was in the file he’d set on the desk, but sometimes it was significant to hear it…actually hear it.

”All of her things are still in the apartment. Her purse, her clothes, her cellphone. None of the calls are strange…I just don’t know.”

”She hadn’t been running, or drinking coffee because of the caffeine. I don’t know why she would have been outside the apartment without her things. “

Tarin sighed.

”I don’t expect miracles from you. I just…can’t do it all on my own.”

>> ”I don’t expect miracles from you. I just…can’t do it all on my own.”

Jorge nodded as he wrote down as much of the information he could use for this case. It seemed extremely little to go on, and sadly a story that he had heard before. He could not count the amount of times he would watch the distraught husband or wife show up at the precinct, claiming that their spouse disappeared without a trace. Many times it turned out as something horrible would have happened. Wrong place at the wrong time situations. Other times it ended up as simple as they walked out. Disappeared to take part in a life that they always wanted, not the one they were tied down with.

But then…there were the small number of cases where it was a complete and utter mystery. And that was the option Jorge did not want to tell this man. At least one way or the other there was closure. There was not with the third option.

Jorge sighed as he sat back in his chair and still regarded the notes he had just taken and glanced at Tarin. “Mr. Brooks, I know you must have heard this a thousand times before, and I’m not going to be the one to tell you give up. I don’t work that way.”

He took the folder carefully back from the man and slipped the notes he had taken inside. He would obviously have to take this home and pour over every detail he could. There were only a few photos of the scenes in this folder, mainly before there was nothing mysterious or criminal to take a picture of. Then again, a pregnant woman had disappeared so why had not there been more effort put into it?

The detective then sat back in his seat as he looked over the small amount of notes he had collected so far. It still was not a lot to go on, but what was he supposed to tell this man. Losing hope was never an option he liked but he did not want to give him a promise that he would find her hell or high water. He would do his best but with as little as he has here, what could he do?

“Listen I want you to take this,” he said as he grabbed a contact card and handed it across the desk to her. “That has my personal number here on it. You can contact me if you can think of anything else that can pertain to this case.” Though most cops would have left it right there and turned back to their work, Jorge instead grabbed his coat and stood up. “Now I’m going to do some foot work at your building, okay? I’ll ask around, see if anyone can recall anything now that some time has passed.”

Tarin nodded his head, and watched Jorge’s reaction as he told the man everything he knew about the day that Lee had disappeared. It wasn’t a promising situation. Tarin had been honest when he’d said he knew that though. He wasn’t going to hold honesty against the police officer. The man also hadn’t told him to give up.

Tarin was ready to leave it at that. He’d pretty much accomplished what he’d set out to do, there was at least one more pair of eyes looking for his wife. If he kept doing that, one at a time someone was sure to know something.

Then, Jorge said he was going to check things out at Tarin’s building. Right that moment. Tarin was a little shocked. Seriously? Jorge had to know how fruitless the search would be. Jorge was a good cop. Tarin nodded his head, a lump forming in his throat as he looked at the other man gratefully.

They stood and made their way towards the door together. It made sense, they were going to the same place.

Tarin suddenly felt awkward. ”I took the tube.” he said casually, ”I guess I’ll see you over there?”

>> ”I took the tube.” he said casually, ”I guess I’ll see you over there?”

Jorge paused as he stepped outside with Tarin and watched the man closely. He was about to head to the man’s apartment and do some sleuthing. He really would not have been right to leave the man here to there by his lonesome. Well if he were going elsewhere he could, but apparently the man was going to head home at the same time. They were going to the same place so what would be the harm?

He smiled as he stopped and nodded to the sidewalk. “Wait there, I can pull up and give you a ride home if you like.”

Jorge stepped away and headed towards the back of the precinct where the parking was. Once he got to his Chevy Impala, he tossed the notes and folder for this missing persons case into the backseat. Though he was sure there really was no hope, in the back of his mind, he knew that he could be wrong. Yes, she did disappear without a trace, but there was always a chance. At least that is what he liked to tell himself when he met people like Tarin, who seemingly have lost everything.

After a few short minutes, Jorge pulled up to the sidewalk where he saw Tarin waiting and waved him over.

“Come on Mr. Brooks,” he said in a friendly manner.

Once Tarin had climbed in and buckled up, Jorge pulled back into the street and headed off towards the address written on the notepad. He gave Tarin an occasional glance as they drove off. He could see the look on the man’s face as they left the precinct. He seemed glad to have the detective so quickly jump on the case. Unfortunately Jorge could only imagine the runaround the guys at Metro gave him.

“You have my sympathies, Mr. Brooks,” Jorge said as they drove. “Why don’t you tell me about her? Not just about her disappearance, but about her, as a person.” It was simply a way to get the man to open up, and besides, the more he learned about Lee, the better a chance he had of understanding what might have happened.

Tarin nodded his head with a slight smile when Cervantes offered him the ride. The man was quickly rising in Tarin’s estimation and threatening years of ire he’d built up against other police officers. He needed to see Rupert, remind himself what the brass was really like.
Rupert. There was someone Tarin hadn’t thought about in a while…and someone he should probably contact. Even if the man was, at the best of times a prick, he was their friend. There was also a chance that the ex-detective would have some connections that even Detective Cervantes didn’t know about.

The Impala arrived and Tarin climbed in, the slight vibration and rushing in his ears intensifying as he shut the door. The Medium checked the back seat casually. Two spirits. One male, one female. Tarin didn’t link up with them, he hadn’t done that in a while. It was too easy for him to lose control when he was this emotional, and the last thing New York City needed was a repeat of the last time Lee had disappeared. He owed it to her to hold things together, at least that much. They were attached to the cop, though. Tarin took note, then did his best to ignore the two, at least they were quiet.

Detective Cervantes offered his sympathies and Tarin nodded his head, studying his hands for a moment before looking over at Jorge in surprise.
”You want to know…about her?” he said. This was definitely a question that nobody had asked so far. Was it too soon? Tarin thought about Lee for a moment, all the good things he could drum up in his head. Nah, it wasn’t too soon. Besides, he told himself with resolve, it’s not like she’s dead.

Tarin took a deep breath, then spoke.

”Lee was…is an absolutely incredible example of how a person can shine in spite of everything.” he said.
”I’ve never met anyone in my life with as much stubborn resolve as she had…has and sometimes we fought like crazy because I’m not much of a pushover either.” Tarin stopped and shrugged, ”Then again, she’s almost always right.”
Tarin looked out at traffic as they made their way through the city. He really needed to get a car. He and Lee had been planning on one for when the baby came…public transport was no place to take a newborn.

”Her mutation had made it hard for her to be close to people. She…sort of saps energy from people within a certain area. Way more with touch…it took me forever to convince her that we could even work out. Once she was in though…she changed my life. So much for the better. She’s gotten so good at controlling what she can do.”

It was almost strange, being this open about Lee’s mutation. The police needed to know these things though, and it was even easier with Jorge. He worked with mutants every day, he knew about mutations.

”She left me once…right after she got out of the camps they’d set up during Registration. They’d put her in a collar…so whenever anyone got close and her powers amped up…” Tarin stopped, it still made him furious to think about it…especially after Romania.
”I told the other officers that too, I’m sure it’s in the notes. She hadn’t really wanted to leave then…but she’d stood up and told me to my face. She wouldn’t just leave like this. Lee is one of the bravest people I’ve ever met.”

That was enough…probably more than enough. Tarin had been rambling for countless blocks on what should have been a simple question. He took a deep breath.

”What about you?” he asked as casually as possible. ”Anyone special?” Tarin resisted the urge to look in the back of the cop car. If there wasn’t someone special now, there had been. Spirits didn’t stick around just because they were curious.

Jorge nodded as he listened to Tarin unload about everything he just revealed about his wife. It was good, the detective was glad to have the extra information. Sometimes anything, even the little most insignificant thing that can be thought of, could be important to a case. It was too soon for any of it to be an any real use, but Jorge still listened. He listened to the happy, the sad, the stubbornness and in a way it was as if he were listening to one of his classic novels being told to him word for word. It was the type of theme that artists love to play with. The head butting couple who manage, through everything, to make it work. And like any good story…there was tragedy involved. Maybe that is what was happening now.

The detective remained silent, saying not a word as he listened. He took mental notes of things that could and could not be important. Then he realized that Tarin had asked him a question.

>> ”What about you?...Anyone special?”

Polite conversation, it was always good to have. It broke the ice and made the trust between officer and civilian grow. At least that is what he had been told many times when he was in the academy. Yet, the good thing was that it worked for Jorge. He may have been gruff around the edges, but he did not mind light conversation now and then. If he did, this would make the car ride all that more awkward and quiet.

Not that he didn’t like quiet.

“Only been two important ones in my life,” he said with a smirk. “One I’m currently dating and she is such a peach. I care about her a lot.” He grinned as he glanced back to Tarin before he the smile faded as he kept his eye out for the man’s building. “The other…I lost a long time ago, when I was teenager.”

Though he said nothing else about them, there was just a twinge of sadness in his voice at the mention of the last “anyone special” he mentioned. Yes he had moved on, but it was not that fact that he still loved Nichole that got to him, it was the fact that he still blamed himself, even so many years for her death. Anyone would tell him, that he couldn’t have known what would happen? What did he expect to do? But deep down, while he realized all this, guilt gnawed a little at the corner of his heart. Not every day and not with unbearable pain, but just enough to remind him that it was still there…that he wanted to keep blaming himself.

Jorge glanced back over to Tarin as he drove. “You mentioned that Lee, if you don’t mind me referring to her as such, is a mutant. Seem like a dangerous ability. It must have taken her time to control. I take it that you yourself are one as well?”

Yeah, Jorge could get to the point pretty fast.

Two important ones. The first one was someone Jorge was currently with. She was a “peach”. Cute. Tarin nodded his head and cast a look in the Detective’s direction, ”Well, make sure you keep her close.” he said, “Peaches are hard to find around here.”

Tarin had a sneaking suspicion he could guess what she looked like with a simple glance in the back of the car. It made sense. Young people made such intense emotional connections. Jorge had said he’d lost the other special one, and the hint of finality in his voice suggested that the topic was closed for conversation. Fine by Tarin, it had simply been small talk.

More questions about Lee. Tarin sighed, Jorge needed to know every detail possible to do his best on the case. The Medium nodded his head.

”A very long time. She was just starting to really get a handle on things. As long as one of us wore sleeves and pants, we’d gotten to where we could sleep in the same bed and she could actually sleep. In the past being that close would have had her up for days.” Sure the information was a little intimate, but it wasn’t anything outrageous.

Then Jorge asked about Tarin.

For the first time in a long while, Tarin considered lying about his abilities. Jorge was a good guy, and Tarin knew that questions about his mutation had a tendency to inevitably lead to someone asking if there were any spirits with them. There were two with the Detective.

Lying to a cop was not a great way to get help with ones missing wife, though.

“Mm hmm.” he said thoughtfully, turning his head to look out the window. ”I’ve got my own special talents. What about you?” he asked, turning the question back on Jorge. Tarin could get to the point too.

>> “Mm hmm…I’ve got my own special talents. What about you?”

“Of course,” he said as he glanced at Tarin briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Tends to come in handy when having to deal with overly powerful mutants, to have a useful ability or two.”

The detective was actually surprised at himself for how candid he was about his being a mutant. Usually Jorge had kept such things pretty quiet. Not because he was scared about people’s reactions, but simply it was a result of his upbringing. After his powers manifested, he and his entire family had to flee the state! That tends to leave a mark. But the longer Jorge was in New York, the easier he began to take the fact that he was a mutant and reveal that to others. Though he did not parade it on the streets, when it came to other mutants, sometimes it was good for them to know that MRC actually did hire mutants to the force.

Jorge decided that if he was going to work in this case, with this man, if might be better to at least seem a little more accessible.

“Nothing big, uh, I can move water. Discovered that when I was fifteen,” he finally said.

Just wasn’t fast enough to make it be of any use. he thought to himself as he eyed the streets.

He sat there as he drove and thought about his abilities. Part of him really wished that he had something that could have been just a little more useful to his investigations. Yeah, moving water definitely helped out in the field, and even saved his life once or twice from a particularly maniacal mutant or criminal, but there were times like this it were different. Like maybe some ability to see someone’s past actions, or seek them out only using a single item of theirs. Then again, regular human cops have been doing this kind of job for years. Sometimes just sheer detective work could crack the case.

Maybe that would work in his favor for this case.

When he finally noted that the apartment was coming up, Jorge flipped the signal and turned off to the sidewalk. He pulled up the side and killed the engine to his car before he reached into the backseat and pulled up the file, as well as the notepad with the meager number of notes that he had taken when he interview Tarin. It was not much but it could at least serve as a starting point.

“Well, we’re here,” Jorge said as he climbed out of the car and tucked the file and notepad under his arm. He watched Tarin closely as he stood there , weighing the options of whether or not the man should accompany him further. It would be hard to have to ask these types of questions yet again, but maybe it could jar a detail or two loose. Finally he just asked. “Listen, Mr. Brooks, I know this may sound a little unorthodox, but if you like, you can accompany me while I ask around. Maybe walking the path she did…I dunno. Could open a door or two,” he said as he started to walk away, notes in hand. If Tarin wanted to join, he would. “It’s up to you.”

Of course. Jorge was comfortable with his powers. That was something. Even though the registration Act had been over for quite some time, there were still many people who were uncomfortable with the fact that they were genetically different than a majority of the population.

Tarin nodded his head when the detective pointed out that he was a water manipulator. Elementals were common enough, and Tarin found himself wondering about the finer points of the power. Each one was different, if only slightly. Could he make it rain?

This was good, he realized, when the car hit a rock and knocked him slightly out of his mental reverie. His mind was wandering to something other than his missing wife. Life was going on, as it should be.

Tarin knew that the information Jorge had given was probably given in a quid pro quo manner of speaking. He also knew he should expand a bit on his ability, even though the other man hadn’t specifically asked.

Tarin mulled over it until they made it to the curb and parked.

They exited the car. Tarin frowned, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Jorge explained that it would help to know any paths Lee took. Tarin took a deep breath and nodded.

“I’ll show you anything you want to know.” he said, then started walking, ”She got us coffee from this place down the street every morning.”

As they walked, Tarin mulled things over a bit more, then looked up and over at the taller man as they walked, then back at the two spirits still trailing them.

”I know she’s not dead. I’d know. That’s my power, I can see them. Spirits. When violent things happen, they stick around to familiar places…people. She’d be here.” The words were firm, confident, and it was obvious that Tarin was stating fact, not opinion. At least in his mind.

>> “I’ll show you anything you want to know…She got us coffee from this place down the street every morning.”[/color]

Jorge nodded as Tarin led him down the street, eyes scanned the surroundings. There really was little to no use in this since any evidence would be long gone, but he did feel it was important. To get the lay of the landscape could end up later helping in this investigation. Sometimes even the most minute detail could end up helping them overall. So Jorge walked, feet following the same path that Lee walked the last time Tarin had seen her. His eyes scanned around and mentally he took notes.

Alley ways, broken doorways, hidden alcoves, any of these places could be ominous during the wee hours of the morning or late at night. Sometimes even in the middle of the day, all it took was one overly trustworthy citizen and a sly grin to get them off their normal path. Unfortunately these were scenarios that he was all too familiar with.

>> ”I know she’s not dead. I’d know. That’s my power, I can see them. Spirits. When violent things happen, they stick around to familiar places…people. She’d be here.”[/color]

That first statement did not throw him. Many times he had heard the same thing from other people. I know she’s not dead. or I think I know if she were killed etc, etc. Though Jorge always appreciated their ability to hold onto hope, after awhile it kind seemed to false to him. Though he prayed and hoped that things would go right, there were times where he wanted to simply shake them and say give up. This was not one of those times. He had to believe that this woman was still alive, especially with the conviction that Tarin spoke with.

Wait…did he just say he could see Spirits?

Jorge paused mid stride and turned to look at Tarin with a very serious expression on his face. He seemed to be trying to read the man, to see if he really believed what he had just told him. Arms across his chest, Jorge watched him before he turned and continued on, taking whatever notes he could find.

“Interesting,” he said as he noted a particularly dark looking alley. “That is a very interesting ability. I’ve seen odder though.” he muttered as he stood there and continued to take another note before he glanced up to Tarin once more. “So…you just see dead people? Wandering around? Guess that means there is some hope after all.” he smirked a little encouragingly and continued on.

Jorge didn’t react at first. Tarin almost smiled. He waited for it…waited for it. At some point the Detective had gotten ahead, looking down all the hidey-holes and hide-aways where Lee wasn’t going to be. Tarin supposed they weren’t on a fool’s errand though. It was important for a police officer to understand what a person’s routine was.

Tarin stopped thinking about that as soon as Jorge stopped. He even allowed himself a small smile for a moment as the Detective crossed his arms and waited for him to catch up. Tarin appreciated honesty, and Jorge was honest. He’d seen abilities that were odder than seeing dead people?

The Medium waited for the questions that were sure to come. Nobody simply stopped with, ‘Wow, that’s a strange ability.’ The questions came, and Tarin nodded his head to the first one.

”Mm hmm.” he said simply, eyes darting to the two who were still following Jorge. ”Most people don’t ever even know they’re there.”

Tarin sighed, looking around and trying to figure out a way to explain things, ”It’s always fascinated me…at least since I found out I wasn’t crazy. Every major religion has legends and stories and accounts of the ‘supernatural’ world, but there are so few people who actually believe things like this are possible.”

He paused to let Jorge mull that over before he continued, they were at the coffee stand now and he stopped, nodding towards the stand. ”If Lee was going to be anywhere. It would be here…or the apartment.”