Living with the Dead

FINN

Finn hated to be ungrateful. But if there were people with other supernatural powers, he couldn't help wishing he'd been blessed with a more useful one, like teleportation. Having a phantom partner who had to rely on public transit seemed rather mundane. And, under the circumstances, rather frustrating.

He'd sent Damon on ahead with Adams and the man Robyn had called Rhys. But when Finn lost their car in traffic, Damon had to bail, then hitch rides back to the spot where he'd last seen Finn, find him and tell him which direction Adams was traveling. Now they were stuck canvassing the area, searching for the car.

Or, Finn should say, he and Robyn were searching. When Damon got near his wife, he was as useless as a twelve-year-old boy with a naked supermodel. He just sat there beside her in the backseat, staring and fidgeting, frustrated beyond reason, able to see and not touch.

"Did you get her shoulder checked?" Damon slid to the edge of the seat and leaned over.

"Couldn't. She seems fine with it, though."

"Didn't I warn you that as long as Bobby's conscious, she'll say she's fine? She needs to see a doctor."

"And she will, as soon as we're done. That's her decision."

When Finn had first started talking to Damon, Robyn would look up sharply, listening just long enough to realize he wasn't speaking to her, then nod and turn her attention back to the window. After a few exchanges, she'd caught on to the tone he used with Damon and stopped looking up. A fast learner. A fast adapter, too, already acting as if she'd spent her life around people who talked to ghosts.

"She looks good, don't you think?" Damon asked.

Finn looked at Robyn in the rearview mirror. She did look good. But a grunt seemed the safest answer.

"She seems to be getting back on her feet," Damon said.

Finn could agree with that, too. He had no idea what Robyn had been like before or after Damon's death, but the woman beside him – keenly watching out the window, stopping periodically to pepper him with questions – was far from the shell-shocked widow he'd expected.

"Hold on," Robyn said.

Finn hit the brakes.

She jolted forward, then gave a pained smile as she adjusted her lap belt. "I thought that would be less alarming than screaming 'Stop!' I was just going to say I recognize this area. Ahead is that bookstore I told you about, where we first saw the boy."

"Rhys's son."

"Why would he bring Hope -?" Her chin jerked up. "Hope was on the roof when his son jumped. She was trying to talk him down."

"But Rhys wasn't there."

"He's clairvoyant, remember?"

It took Finn a moment to make the connection. Apparently some people were adapting to this stuff slower than others. "That means he gets a, uh, vision of people. In the present. So he could have seen Hope."

"He did. He said as much in the motel. If he blames her for him jumping and he's taking her back there now…"

"Direct me."

She did.

Robyn led Finn to a medical office building. There were three vehicles in the lot. One was the car they'd been tailing. There was also a van and a car that Finn thought he'd seen earlier.

"Is that the van they put Marten in?" he asked Damon.

"Uh…" Damon popped into the front seat for a better look. "Shit. Yeah. It is."

He parked at the far end of the lot. "Get closer and take a look."

When Damon left, Finn picked up the radio receiver.

"What are you doing?" Robyn said. "That's their car. They're inside the building."

"I know. I'm calling for backup."

"What?" She shot to the seat edge.

"I've just confirmed that's the van your friend Karl was in. That means we have a potential double hostage situation, possibly with two separate and hostile parties. I can't go in there alone."

"Fine." She grabbed the door handle and wrenched. "Unlock this."

"Calm down."

The moment the words left Finn's mouth, he knew they were the wrong ones. Now she turned her glare on him, her eyes flashing.

"I am calm, Detective Findlay. Calm enough to know that you're going to sit on your ass while my friend's life is in danger, and calm enough to know that I'm not going to do the same. Now open this door."

"I need backup. Standard – "

" – operating procedure." She twisted the words, wringing out a bucket of contempt. "Fine. You follow procedure, except on one point. You forgot to lock this door and I escaped."

"The longer you fight me, the longer it's going to take to make this call." Again, regret dogged the words. It was a perfectly logical thing to say, and it came out sounding perfectly condescending, like when a kid got frustrated and the teacher made him sit in the corner with a singsong "when you can behave, you can rejoin the class."

Robyn slid back in her seat. Her arms started to fold, then she thought better of it and let them fall by her sides. When Finn hesitated, watching her, she said, "Place your call, Detective."

Damon leapt into the passenger seat, making Finn jump.

"Put 'er in reverse and peel rubber," Damon said. "They're on the way out."

Finn backed from the lot.

Robyn shot forward again. "What the hell are you doing? They're still in there."

"Whoa, Finn," Damon said. "Talk to her."

Finn explained quickly as he found a spot to wait and watch.

"Who's coming out?" Robyn demanded.

"Hope, Karl and that guy," Damon said, and Finn relayed.

Damon climbed into the backseat. "What'd you do to her?"

"Nothing."

"You did something. She's furious."

"Are Adams and Marsten coming out as hostages?" he asked.

"Change the subject, huh? No. They appeared to be with him willingly. I think stopping here was a trap for those SWAT guys. They rescued Karl and disabled his captors."

"Disabled?"

"Knocked out. Tranquilizer guns." Damon's attention turned back to assessing his wife. Par for the course, but Finn had been with Damon long enough now to know he'd turned away a little too fast.

"What else?" Finn asked.

"I counted five guys in those SWAT uniforms, all unconscious now. There's one suit, too. And a woman. A bystander, I think, but she's okay."

"I meant what else did you find? What aren't you telling me?"

"Hmm?" He looked up. "That's it. I'm just… still processing, I guess. Tranquilizer guns. This is truly some weird shit going on, Finn… oh, there they are."

Through a stand of trees, Finn watched the trio head for a car.

"Robyn?"

"Hmm?" Polite, but cool. A petty grudge might be beneath her, but from her tone, Finn knew he'd slid from ally to enemy. Or at least obstacle.

"That guy." He pointed. "Is that Rhys?"

She moved along her seat to the window. "Yes."

"Da – Uh, David?"

"Nice save," Damon said, with a look that warned him against slipping again.

"Go with them," Finn said. "This time, if you lose me, keep going. Get their final destination, then rendezvous here."