Sincerely

Greyson exited the car quickly when he saw the crowd in the parking lot. He went over to the crowd and I followed him after exiting my car and locking it. He froze at a distance, not moving as if he was in shock. I paused beside him and the realization that was hitting him was hitting me, too. His car was surrounded, there were multiple broken windows, and CSIs were combing over it. It had clearly been broken into. Why though, especially in a police parking lot was beyond me.

An officer approached Greyson but he still seemed to be in shock.

“Agent Novak, this is your car, right?” one of them asked.

“Yes, I left it here overnight after getting a ride home,” he replied trying to remain calm.

“Did you have any valuables inside that could be missing?” the officer asked.

He pursed his lips, nervously.

“No,” he replied.

“Is there any camera footage of the break-in?” he asked afterward.

“Yeah, you can’t see their face though so I don’t know how helpful it will be to us,” the officer commented.

“When can I have my car back?” he asked.

“They need to make sure they have all the evidence photos and fingerprints, give them till tonight, I think it’ll be done by then,” the cop replied.

“Okay, can I see the footage?” he inquired.

“Ask Yale, he’s analyzing it now,” he comments pointing in the direction of a patrol car where a guy was sitting inside with a computer.

Greyson made a B-line for the car.

We were a fair distance away from everyone now so I grabbed his arm stopping him.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“The case was missing,” he murmured.

“If they trace it back to an illegal buy or can trace where your arm came from, it could be problematic,” he replies quietly.

I released him, “I told you, you should have just let me buy it,” I whisper.

“I’m not regretting what I did for you, I’m regretting being stupid enough to leave evidence of it,” he hissed. “They have no reason to take it other than this being a targeted attack, they were looking for it, they knew.”

He continued on his way over to the patrol car, and I followed him. He knocked on the glass to get Yale’s attention. Yale rolled the window down.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Can I see the footage of the break-in?” Greyson asks.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Greyson’s patience was wearing thin.

He picked up the computer off Yale’s lap and walked with it to the rear of the patrol car where he set it down.

“Hey!” Yale called.

Greyson found the footage without much issue, he pulled it up and played it. The camera was from a fair distance, probably several cars over on a lamppost. But you had a clear view of Greyson’s car because the parking lot was empty at the time of the break-in. You could see a figure dressed in black come up to the car, they had a ski mask over their face, and they took what looked like a crowbar or bat to his passenger side windows before pulling the doors open. He raided under the seats and in the glove compartment before lifting up the back seat. It was hard to tell if he got away with anything with the distance and quality of the camera.

Yale was watching from behind Greyson, as if waiting for some sort of response.

“Were you able to find out what direction he came from?” Greyson asked.

“North, down the street,” Yale replied. “He showed up wearing the mask though so unless they get some prints or DNA, it’s pretty much a cold case. They didn’t get away with anything right? So, the sentence would only really be for the damage to the windows, insurance will cover most of that,” he adds.

Greyson wasn’t worried about the car, he was worried about me. I felt guilty because he did this for me. Just like with Sienna, this was my fault. I should have just minded my own business and told him to mind his, we wouldn’t be here now if he’d done that.

He walked away from Yale, the computer and the patrol car without commenting and I followed him. He entered the station, picking up the files with the details of the analyzed money Huxley had used to pay for the motel room before walking over to the holding cells where they must have put Huxley last night. I followed him as far as the cell gate before stopping. He went inside the cell and I stayed outside.

“On the night of the 27th, you checked into a motel at three in the morning and paid in cash, the boss at the motel, thought it was weird you checked in so late and paid in cash, so he kept the money,” he stated with malice that probably wasn’t all directed at Huxley before slapping down a photo of the money on the bench in the cell.

“That money not only had your fingerprints and DNA on it but Carlos’ as well as his blood,” he stated. “How’s that for proof?” Greyson hissed.

Huxley didn’t say anything.

“Deckard might be safe, but is everyone, agent?” Huxley commented glancing at me. “This is bigger than just me and humans and androids really shouldn’t mix.”

I could see Greyson resist the urge the throttle him before he exited without another word. I followed him out of the holding area, he dropped the file back in the box on my desk before I followed him back outside. He ignored the crowd and went back to my car.

“Greyson,” I hissed quietly, trying to get his attention but not draw attention to us.

He paused, his hand on the handle of my car door.

“I need to get away from here before I do something stupid,” he stated coldly.

So, I unlocked the car and he got in, I joined him shortly.

“Where are we going?” I asked quietly not wanting to upset him further.

He paused as if he hadn’t thought about where.

“I don’t know,” he replied sounding distant.

I decided to just take him back to my house, our job was basically done, so I didn’t know what happened now. I never thought about how this would work long distance, his job wouldn’t always be here in Seattle.

Greyson took a seat on the couch and I went to check Kelsea’s room for laundry, I carried the basket to the laundry room and glanced over at Greyson who was still sitting on the couch. I put the clothes in the wash before going to check on him.

“You feeling any better?” I asked gently sitting down beside him.

“I knew I should have gotten rid of the evidence,” he replied quietly.

“It’s not your fault,” I stated.

“While it’s not yours. I could have left it here, it would have been more secure than in my car,” he commented.

“It was probably some homeless person desperate for money, they took it hoping to sell it for scrap or something,” I reason trying to calm him.

“You heard what Huxley said didn’t you? This isn’t just about him. What if he’s with someone who’s targeting androids, like you, Deckard, Bailey and Alessio?” he exclaimed. “Alessio turned up beaten to a pulp, his body was destroyed, and we don’t even know if Elias was able to find another body for him, I can’t let that happen to you.”