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Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Bates's apartment was small, just enough space for a kitchenette with her bed and a dresser tucked behind a screen and a closet-sized bathroom off one side, but Josefine could guess the place was cheap enough Bates got it all to herself, which wasn't all that common there in the island city of Otsha even with the smaller population compared to other cities. Josefine paused in the doorway to study the lock, looking for the telltale signs of a break-in, her head cocked almost unconsciously to one side in thought when she found a lock and deadbolt that looked almost new.

"When did you get the locks changed?" Bates looked back to where she'd paused, wringing her hands together again in what Josefine was starting to think was a nervous habit, though she couldn't quite be sure if it was at her presence or at being in the apartment.

"About a week ago, one of the officers recommended it," she paused, "that older Irishman you meet for coffee sometimes," Bates trailed off, trying to remember the name. "Finn something—he did the work for me."

"Finnén MacNéill?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yeah, that's right. He was real nice about it too." Considering Finn made his living breaking locks and cracking safes for the Irish mob, Josefine suspected he probably made a copy of the key for "safe keeping" and made a mental note to get it from him tomorrow.

"So this started more than a week ago?" Bates nodded, relaxing slightly when Josefine finally came inside and closed the door behind her, though she remained tense; Josefine supposed it was the apartment making her skittish, then.

"Such a naive little creature," Wolf's voice echoed in her head with a twisted sort of amusement to its tone, "can she not see how much blood there is staining your hands? To trust a killer like you." Josefine didn't look down at her hands despite its coaxing, she already knew she'd find them stained with blood that wasn't there, it'd shown her that image enough times she sometimes thought the doctors were right.

"'Better the devil you know'," Josefine quoted the words back to it under her breath, earning a deranged laugh from the darkness that faded into a low chuckle as she continued further inside to crouch beside the bed. The bed was low enough that it'd be a tight squeeze for most adults if they could get down there in the first place, especially as they got older, so that put a rough cap on the age range for whoever it might be. Could be a ghost of some sort, the thought flickered through the back of her mind quickly, would explain how it got in even after the locks had been changed.

It wouldn't have been the first time Josefine had determined a stalker to be of the restless dead variety, though it was a bit out of her wheelhouse.

She dropped down, shifting her long coat out of the way as she lay flat on the floor to peer into the dark beneath the bed.

No holes, no loose floorboards when she reached out to check.

Scuff marks though.

Black, from the rubber sole of a shoe.

Josefine shifted to look at Bates's shoes—black oxfords with black rubber soles.

Scuff marks were probably from her then.

She looked back under, pressing her hand to the underside of the bed and making a mental note of what felt like scratches in the rough iron frame and shredded fabric on the underside of the mattress.

A shiver, like cold fingers, ran down her spine.

"What's wrong?" Bates asked, a mix of anxiety and hope in her expression when Josefine climbed to her feet.

"Just collecting information," Josefine spoke as she dusted herself off, glancing out the skylight at the quickly fading daylight, "Would you mind if I stayed here for the night? I can sleep in one of the chairs," she gestured toward the solid wooden chairs at the small table in the kitchenette; there would be no sleep in such chairs, but considering the situation, that was for the best, "then you can stay with me until we get this figured out for you, we can head there in the morning." Bates looked like she might start crying at the suggestion and Josefine swallowed hard as she found herself praying she didn't; she wasn't religious but she didn't know how to deal with people crying, that level of emotion was far beyond her understanding.

"Thank you, Doc," Bates instead did one of the handfuls of other things she doubted she would ever understand, rushing forward to wrap her in a hug, "I was so frightened." Josefine stiffened under the contact, a small, instinctual part of her still expecting pain to come with it even after so many years. Bates seemed far less tense now that she'd been offered a solution, it was basic psychology when she thought about it; given the situation, Bates was bound to be relieved—and likely equally as trusting—around anyone who offered her hope.

Maybe it was good she'd asked her, Josefine had nothing to gain from ripping her off regardless of how easy a mark she'd be.

"She offered a puzzle," Wolf laughed as Josefine extracted herself from Bates's grip, "you would not trade a puzzle for anything." Josefine ignored its voice, focusing instead on the night ahead.

#

It was dark that night, storm clouds still hanging over Otsha even if the rain had died down to a drizzle for the time being. Josefine sat wrapped in her coat with her hands stuffed into the pockets and legs crossed at the ankles still wide awake thanks to years of long nights and Wolf's near-constant chatter; she'd started humming Gjendines Bånsull at some point to distract it. There was a sound from beyond one of the walls, enough for Josefine to pause in her humming, but not clear enough for her to quite recognize what or where even as she listened closely. Whatever it was didn't move again for a long time, long enough that she suspected it might have simply been someone shifting in their sleep in one of the apartments on either side.

The walls were thin there, after all, she could break into either side with little more necessary than her penknife and an alibi.

A shadowy figure crossed her line of sight and Josefine went very still and very quiet, almost holding her breath.

Then the scratching started, like nails against rough iron and fabric. The room felt colder, and she shivered as she hunkered down in her coat debating whether or not to investigate the sound; she hadn't seen anything come in but the space beneath the bed seemed impossibly dark then, as if there was something under there made of darkness.

"How can you abandon our future together?" Josefine heard the whispering Bates had mentioned as well, "I love you, I love you, I love you," she couldn't make out all of it, "Such beautiful eyes, so blue. Can I pluck out your eyes?" but the snippets she caught left her unsettled. She exhaled through her teeth as she realized she'd been holding her breath. She'd have to pay a visit to Raven's Roost in the morning.


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