Page 8 of Sebastian

The woman, who I assumed was the hospital administrator I needed to speak with, just sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Nurse Clary, please get back to your duties. I’ll take it from here.”

“Right. Yes. Of course.” He bobbed his head, like he almost wanted to bow to her then redirected himself at the last moment. With one last glance back at me, he disappeared out the door and closed it behind him.

The woman sighed again and fixed her glasses back into place.

“Sorry for the trouble,” she said and held out her hand to me. “I’m Madine Constella, the administrator for this hospital.”

Just as I stood to take her hand, the door opened again, and Newt slunk back inside.

“Sorry. I just need to get...” he trailed off and pointed absently at the far corner. Giving both myself and the woman a wide berth, he crept to the other side of the waiting room and crouched down on the floor to retrieve his phone from under a chair.

“All right, I got it.” He waggled the phone in the air to show it off, then seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly stowed it in his pocket. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll just go. Bye.” As abruptly as he reappeared, he disappeared again.

Miss Constella sighed even louder.

“Mr. Roth. You wanted to ask about a DNA test?”

This time there were no more interruptions, but that didn’t make the process any easier. Apparently, having a DNA test done on someone I wasn’t related to and didn’t have any legal authority over was more complicated than anticipated. Not impossible, thankfully, but it required a lot more paperwork and red tape than I typically handled. Plus, I had to get in contact with Jason Dahler so the hospital could get a DNA sample from him so there would be something to compare.

These kinds of things were usually Damien’s job, and despite being thirty-three years old, I felt like a child pretending to be a grown-up as I struggled to sort everything out.

An hour later, the DNA test was finally ordered with a promise that the results would be available within a few days. All I could do was give them my phone number, then go home and wait.

So, that’s what I did.

CHAPTER 5

Sebastian

Damien wasn’t there when I returned to the office so I re-locked the outer door and climbed the stairs to my apartment. I took a moment to change out of my apple juice stained pants and then threw myself on the couch. Without Damien there, I could sprawl over all of the cushions, my head propped up on one arm of the couch and my feet propped up on the other.

When he got back, Damien would undoubtedly want to hear about my trip to the hospital, not that I had much to tell him, so I passed the time by playing games on my phone.

My addiction to video games was one of the few things my brother didn’t know about me. It didn’t matter what game. From stupid little phone games to mainstream console games, I played them all. They were a great way to unwind at the end of the day and make my brain shut up for a while. As long as I was concentrating on the challenge in front of me, I wasn’t thinking about anything else.

Blue eyes and freckles still filled my thoughts, so I pulled up a retro version of Pac-Man and started working my way through the levels. I had progressed through the first fifteen stages by the time I heard the front door unlock.

Before Damien could trudge up the stairs to open the door and see what I was doing, I shut off my phone and shoved it in my pocket.

It wasn’t that I was embarrassed by my hobby—well, maybe a little—but I liked having something innocent that was only mine. If Damien knew that I liked video games, then he’d ask me about them and I’d feel compelled to answer. Video games were the thing I did when I was tired of talking and dealing with people. I didn’t want them to be the cause of more conversation.

A moment later, Damien’s familiar face peered at me over the back of the couch. “Hey, Giraffe. Move your legs.”

Making a show of grumbling and taking as long as I possibly could to sit up, I created room for him on the couch.

“So, how’d it go at the hospital?” he asked once he sat down.

“Nothing yet. The John Doe’s burns were too extensive to identify him at the moment. They’re running a comparative DNA test on him and will get back to me. What about you? What’d the FBI want?”

Leaning back against the couch, Damien sighed.

“They’ve got a new case they want us and the FPA to consult on.”

I could tell just from the tone of his voice that I wasn’t going to like what came next.

“Actually, it’s an old case that’s been going on for several years. Someone has been going around the country castrating pedophiles. They aren’t sure if it’s a single person, or a group of people, but there have been over a dozen victims so far in Baton Rouge alone.”

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