Big Bang Fic - Haunted by Water Chapters 1-3

[cornerofmadness]

Haunted by Water
Author - Cornerofmadness
Disclaimer- not mine, all rights belong to Ms. Arakawa
Beta - evil_little_dog & Bob_fish
Artist - all the wonderful illos belong to Bob_fish
Rating - overall NC-17 but mostly it’s R or less.
Genre- mystery, action
Pairings - Roy/Riza, Maes/Gracia, Roy/Maes, Roy/Maes/Riza/Gracia
Timeline/Spoilers - manga based, no direct spoilers except for Roy’s parentage and things that happened in Ishbal. So hmmm, spoilers for anything past chapter 50
Summary - crimes of today resurrect ghosts of the past. When Maes asks for Roy’s help investigating arson and murder, Roy never expected to have to face his past or that they would have to find a killer before Edward is targeted.
Warning - spoilers as noted above, all sorts of sex (Het, m/m, threesome), violence, off screen rape and murder of young teens, arson, Roy & Ed’s potty mouths.
Word Count -48,088
Author’s notes - this was very hard to finish in time. The plot was expansive. Thanks to everyone who helped me knuckle down and finish. Thanks especially to evil_little_dog, Bob_fish and to enemytosleep for the encouragement.


* * *

Chapter One

Roy shifted on the seat, his thigh overly warm from Hayate using it as a bed. It didn’t mesh well with his numb butt and overall irritation. Across from him, Breda still looked like he might have another panic attack, almost as if he thought Hayate would leap from the train seat where he was wedged between his favorite people and attack the soldier. Roy trailed his fingers through the dog’s fur. Hayate had his head on Riza’s lap and he envied the dog.

Roy needed off the train, which should happen soon since they were actually in the station. He felt cramped. Worse, he was confused. Hughes hadn’t had time to talk - the first clue something was seriously wrong - only enough to tell Roy that he needed his expertise and to expect another call. It came quickly from General Grumman’s office. Roy was to go to Central on temporary duty assignment with two of his men. All he wanted now was to crawl into bed and stretch out.

“Are they ever going to open the doors?” Breda obviously wanted away from the dog as fast as possible.

“I wouldn’t be in too much of a rush,” Roy said. “Hughes didn’t get us all the way out here for fun. General Grumman sounded positively grim when he said to report to General Gran for the duration of our stay.”

“I wish they had been a little clearer as to what is expected of us,” Riza said, fastening Hayate’s leash to his collar.

“I figure if Hughes was that terse, this is going to be bad in ways I don’t want to think about it.” Roy scowled.

“Could it be about Edward? Hughes cares about him and that boy is more trouble than even you, sir,” Riza said, shooting him a look of concern to go with her sarcasm.

“He didn’t use the code so I don’t think so,” Roy said and Breda quirked up his eyebrows at that.

The conductor chose that moment to call for them to disembark. Breda was off like a shot. Roy took Hayate’s leash, which was better than carrying Riza’s purse, not that she needed help with either, but he liked to be accommodating, especially when he felt a little powerless at the moment. As they waited on their baggage, Roy scanned for Hughes’ lanky frame. He’d probably be easy to spot. Unless Roy misjudged the wad of photos he had received in the mail, he suspected his best friend would be towering over the crowd, waving handfuls of pictures of his newborn daughter. Instead, two low-ranking soldiers arrived at the same time as the luggage.

“Colonel Mustang, sir?” the young lady asked as if she wasn’t quite sure who he was.

“Yes. Where’s Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?” Roy judged her to be the leader of this pair. The young man seemed more nervous and oddly resembled Edward.

“He got called away unexpectantly, sir. I’m Lieutenant Ross and he’s Second Lieutenant Brosch. We’re here to take you and your men to your temporary housing,” Ross said.

“Something’s happened,” Roy guessed and he saw in Brosch’s eyes that he was right.

“We’re not at liberty to say,” Ross replied, her tone firm. “Major Armstrong’s orders.”

“Take us to Hughes then, instead of housing. The bags can sit in the car,” Roy ordered and they winced.

“General Gran ordered everyone away from that area, sir.” Ross seemed unhappy to have to tell a superior ‘no.’

Roy protested. “But Hughes asked me here.”

“The General was very specific,” Brosch said apologetically.

Riza laid a hand on Roy’s arm. “Hughes will contact us as soon as he can. We should get to the visiting officer’s quarters so he’ll be able to find us.”

“There wasn’t room for all three of you in the VOQ,” Ross said. “They assigned the colonel to a small cottage on base.”

“That should be pleasant,” Roy conceded, as a sudden clap of thunder made him jump. Just what he needed, a storm to start up. “Take us there.”

Roy had to content himself with letting Brosch get the luggage and watching Breda freak out at having to share the back seat with Hayate. If this ride to the housing wasn’t short, Roy thought he’d lose what little patience he still had left. Brosch took them first to the rundown officer’s quarters for Breda. The female quarters were in slightly better shape, though Riza didn’t seem particularly happy to be staying there.

Ross and Brosch spoke in hushed tones that Roy had no interest in trying to overhear once he figured out it had nothing to do about whatever Hughes had summoned him for. It took Roy a moment to realize when they had pulled up to his cottage. The military base appeared to have grown up around this whole row. The grey stone cottage looked like it was closer to its second century than its first. White paint was present only on one side of the house and the windows were tiny, almost cell-like, speaking of an era where glass panes were expensive and rare and windows were made of oiled leather and stout shutters. He could practically smell its age from here. It reminded him of Master Hawkeye’s old place on a much smaller scale.

Ross and Brosch deposited him inside with an economy of words, as if afraid of getting browbeat into taking him where they had been forbidden to do so. He hadn’t even managed to finagle the location from them so he could go on his own. Instead, Roy familiarized himself with his temporary home. Electricity had been a late addition, running along the walls, hiding behind white-painted metal tubing like mice. The living room actually had a bit of a homey feel as the grey stone walls opened up into a sizeable fireplace. If the autumn weather got any cooler, he’d make use of it. The kitchen beyond it had those cabinets he never understood, the ones that ran all the way up to the three and half meter ceilings. All right, he understood the need to make use of all the space, but who the hell could actually use them?

The bathroom was tucked behind what Roy suspected had been an outside wall behind the chimney, another late addition taking the place of the outhouse. He could sit on the commode and touch all four walls. It would be like showering in a coffin. The bedroom was upstairs and ran the length of the cottage. The bed, a generous double, called his name but Roy did little more than turn down the sheets. Boring, not-that-soft, military white sheets. He missed his own bed already.

Roy sometimes wished he had his own house, like Hughes. Houses on base were reserved for family men. Roy didn’t want to buy his own place like Hughes had because that would be conceding he was in the Eastern Command for life. Roy wouldn’t do that since he had no intention of being there until he died. He liked his command, liked the people he worked with, but hated the place. Buying a house would be admitting he was never going anywhere, ever.

Shoving the uncomfortable thoughts from his mind, Roy contemplated a shower then bed. Instead, he slipped out of his uniform and into a suit. The cottage had been graced by a phone so he called a cab. The night was young after all, the sun barely down. Granted, it was storming but why sit at home in a place that wasn’t home? Before he had time to properly depress himself, Roy found himself at Sparky’s. The bar was only half filled but he ignored the people at the tables as he slipped onto a stool. The redheaded bartender grinned at him.

“Haven’t seen you in forever, Roy,” Janina said.

He smiled at his foster sister. “I didn’t know I’d be in town or I’d have given you fair warning.”

“With rogues like you that would have been helpful,” she huffed at him. “Your usual?”

“You know what I like.” He flirted just like Mother had taught him. Sometimes it felt weird with his sisters but they weren’t really kin and no one could know of their relationship. “Is the Madam in?”

“She was busy. I’ll go check to see if she’s done and let her know you’re here,” Janina said but she set up his whiskey for him before she did.

He had nearly knocked it all back by the time his redheaded sister reappeared. She beckoned to him. “Come on, Roy boy. She has time for you.”

Janina deposited him in Chris’ office. The smell of stale smoke made him think about Havoc and all the damn paperwork the man would generate and gleefully leave on Roy’s desk. His mother’s dark eyes swept over him and her lips quirked down, her cigarette wiggling. She had found something in him wanting.

“You’re too skinny,” she announced.

Roy sighed. “Don’t make me take off my shirt and prove you wrong, Madam. I’m perfect.”

Smoke curled out of her long nose when Chris snorted. “I see your ego still knows no bounds. Sit, son.” She pointed to the chair in front of her desk. “You didn’t tell me you were coming west.”

“Didn’t know until Hughes called me. I still don’t know what he wants but whatever it is, it’s official business.” Roy took a seat, grimacing. “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

Chris nodded. “As well you should. There have been a series of fires set, dead children, only that part has been kept out of the papers.”

“I see Maes told you more than he told me,” Roy said sourly.

“My boys keep me informed.” She grinned. “Except he did fail to tell me about you but I’ll forgive him. That newborn of his isn’t letting him sleep.”

Roy snorted. “Tell me about it. The bastard calls me when he’s up with Elicia at all hours. Why in the world you fostered that fool….”

“Because he’s one of the smartest boys I had ever seen, much like some arrogant young men I could name.” Chris shot him a meaningful look as she stubbed out her cigarette. “He’s a natural at information gathering just like you are at alchemy. And you know you love it when he calls you at three in the morning so you can hear Elicia taking her bottle.”

Roy rolled his eyes. He never knew exactly why he was one of the few children Chris had ever given her last name. His sister had kept their birth name but she had been older when they came to Chris and he had been so very young. Hughes has been older, too. Maybe that was why Hughes wasn’t a Mustang but, then again, she couldn’t give too many of her fosters that surname or it would give away the whole intelligence gathering network. “Tell me about these fires.”

“I don’t know much to tell. They’ve been running your brother ragged.”

Roy nodded, not liking that. He was protective of Maes. He and Maes were more than brothers. Their foster mother knew and never judged. Neither did Maes’ wife who had stunned them years ago with her willingness to accept their relationship and join in, along with Riza. Still, if Gracia could put up with whatever the military was making Maes do, who was he to say anything? “What can you tell me? I was told in no uncertain terms I couldn’t get involved until Hughes comes and gets me, I assume. Why else would I be here? They refused to take me to him.”

“I suppose you could stumble on the scene yourself.” A sly smile played over his mother’s mobile lips.

Roy smirked. “Hard to protest that. If I get close enough and Hughes sees me, he’ll bring me in. So, I suppose you know where he is.”

Her cigarette holder jabbed westward. “Sadly, not far from here. You could walk.”

Roy paid for the information with a kiss to his mother’s cheek and a promise to come back for a proper visit some time while he was in Central, his job allowing. The rain hadn’t abated when he got outside and, like a fool, he had forgotten his umbrella. Hell, he hated the rain.

“Roy!” He turned back to see Janina brandishing an umbrella. “Someone left this here weeks ago,” she said and he took it with his thanks, heading down the street.

Inside the umbrella, Roy found an envelope. He tucked it into his jacket for reading later. It took all his determination just to slog through the downpour. Water slapped against the sidewalk as overtaxed and dirty gutters failed to shunt the rain down the drains. People thought he hated the rain because he was useless. Roy liked to let them think that. It was to his advantage, after all. No one would guess the real reason he hated the rain, why he felt a deep desolation of the soul in storms like this. Lakes brought similar melancholy to him and he only ever went to them in the company of people he felt safe with. No, let them think his depression was due to his short-circuited alchemy. Even he preferred to think that.

It wasn’t hard to find the site. Even with the deluge, the smell of smoke hung in the air. Two blocks more and the intense search lights were a dead giveaway. Several large lights, generators chugging away adding diesel to the miasma, illuminated a partially burnt building. Several soldiers stopped Roy there and he regretted changing out of his uniform.

“Move along, sir. There’s nothing to see,” one of the soldiers said.

“Sergeant, I’m Colonel Mustang. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes requested I come as quickly as possible.” Roy gestured to his civilian clothing. “As you can see, I haven’t even bothered to change. I’m sure he’d appreciate you telling him I’m here.”

When the man looked ready to protest, Roy pulled out his ever-present pocket watch and the man’s mouth clamped shut. He nodded, turning on his heel. However, his companions didn’t move and weren’t about to let Roy past their perimeter. The first soldier came back with Hughes, who had the decency to look surprised to see Roy standing there in the rain.

He grunted at Mustang. “I wasn’t expecting you until the morning but since you’re here, come on back. It’ll be good to have your eyes on this before the rain ruins everything.”

Roy fell into step with Hughes who snagged the umbrella out of his hand, holding it over head. “Hey.”

“You’re too short. I’m sure you’re wondering why all the secrecy about getting you here.” Maes’s pace was a touch too brisk.

Roy nodded. “Among other things, yes.”

“I’d rather not say much and let you come to your own conclusions.” Maes folded up the umbrella once they were under the spotty shelter of a precariously weak roof.

Spot lights turned night to day. Roy could see Armstrong hunkered down, studying something. The smell made Roy’s stomach flip. He knew it too well, roasted human flesh. Under a gaping hole in the ceiling where the flames and the storm conspired to make short work of the fire-damaged roof, Roy saw a small charred body, not a child, a teen maybe.

He blinked rapidly and the smoke-filled building disappeared, replaced by a street of mud-brick buildings and smoking roof tiles. He saw the bodies, blackened sticks for limbs, heads exploded where the brains had boiled in their own skulls. His lips were coated with grease.

Vaguely, he heard Hughes calling his name. Maes said it sharply one more time and Ishbal receded back to the recesses of Roy’s mind. His friend stared at him, no doubt seeing his distress. Roy shook his shoulders, firming up his tenuous grip on reality. It had been some time since he’d had a flash back. “What happened here?”

“We were hoping you could tell us,” Maes said.

Roy’s nose scrunched as Armstrong stood up, stepping aside for him. Roy moved past the man, taking a better look at the victim, then studied the room. “Whoever this child was, he was torched. See how burnt he is?” Roy squinted. “She?” He couldn’t tell, too much damage. “Human flesh is harder than you think to burn. All around the body, the fire did less damage. But look at that wall.” Roy pointed. “I’ll need to see it in the day but that looks like lizard-skinning. It’s where the fire burned hotter.”

“So, very hot fire in two places,” Armstrong said and Roy nodded.

“I’d say someone poured an accelerant on this poor person and then splashed it around the walls.” Roy took a deep breath. “I don’t smell gas so maybe alcohol. It’s hard to tell.” He turned and looked at Hughes. “I was already on the train when this happened. There are more, aren’t they?”

Hughes’s large mouth twisted. “Too many. This makes the fourth, all young teens as far as the coroner can tell.”

“Two boys and a girl,” Armstrong added. “And he’ll have to tell us which this poor child was.” His blue eyes were clouded with sadness and determination. “There’s no way of knowing who any of them were.”

“We’re going through the missing persons reports with the local police,” Hughes said. “Hoping maybe for dental records but if these kids were from poorer families, those won’t exist.” He gestured to the body at their feet. “This one is in the best shape. The rain came up unexpectedly tonight. There were no signs of it earlier in the day.”

“It put out most of the fire before anyone ever arrived,” Armstrong continued. “We haven’t had a body in this good of shape before.”

“What do you think I can do for you?” Roy closed his eyes momentarily. He needed that break from the horror, thinking he knew exactly what Maes wanted from him. Roy knew he wasn’t going to like this.

“You’ve already started. You know how to read fires, Roy,” Maes said. “We don’t. I wouldn’t have thought about the fire being started in two separate places. Of course, the last few times there was next to nothing left to even look at.”

“I want to see those places, too,” Roy said, glancing up through the hole and the rain pissing through it. The water made bits of burnt flesh float away even though they had put a tarp over the body. “In the daylight, of course. I brought Hawkeye and Breda with me.”

“Good, we’ll make good use of them,” Hughes said. “I’ll be meeting with the coroner tomorrow while he does the autopsy and Armstrong continues to work the missing persons’ files.”

“There is an astonishing number of missing children,” Armstrong said, his voice heavy. “And that’s not even considering they may have come from the Ishbalan slums on the outskirts.”

“I’ll go with you,” Roy said without enthusiasm. He didn’t really want to see an autopsy but that would be the best way to learn something, seeing it for himself.

Hughes nodded and went back to work, giving Roy directions as to what he could do to help them. Roy realized the severity of the whole situation when Maes didn’t mention his wife and newborn daughter once.

Chapter Two

Having a kitchen but no food meant breakfast wasn’t going to happen at his place. Roy called his men and suggested a diner ran by yet another of his extended family. A brother was a short order cook and his sister a waitress and, between them and the diner’s location, they garnered all sorts of information from base and town.

Roy flipped three pancakes from the impressive stack onto Breda’s plate, mostly wanting to see if Breda could manage them along with the stack he already had plus the eggs, toast, ham slices and bacon. Riza daintily pushed the tip of her bread into her dippy eggs, ignoring the men. Roy stabbed up a sausage, wishing he could eat them without thinking the naughty thoughts of a twelve year old as he considered their shape. He inhaled half the sausage in one bite.

“What next, sir?” Riza finally asked.

“Gran’s adjutant called just as I was leaving. He wants us in his office at oh-nine-hundred.” Roy pointed the other end of his sausage at her. “See, Hawkeye, other people don’t have to do things at the crack of dawn.”

She rolled her eyes. “When you become a general, sir, you can do what you want.”

What do you think he wants of us?” Breda asked, after swallowing some toast.

“He probably knows I managed to hunt down Hughes last night,” Roy said, using his pancake as a syrup sponge. “I wasn’t supposed to, of course.” Mindful of the other patrons, Roy lowered his voice. “Between us, there have been several children burned to death and Hughes and Armstrong are investigating. I don’t know much more than that yet.”

Breda pursed his lips, picking up his cup of coffee and drinking from it. “Explains why the lieutenant colonel wanted you here.”

Roy nodded. “Hopefully the general will keep out of this. He usually lets Hughes do what he needs to without much interference, at least according to Hughes.”

“Who would burn children?” Riza set her fork aside, her brown eyes dimming.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Roy said, his mind screaming ‘the man sitting next to you, the one you let touch you intimately’. He pushed away his plate, not wanting any more of his breakfast.

Once they were finished - Breda having totally cleaned his plate, even polishing off the rest of the stack of pancakes - they headed onto base. Gran didn’t keep them waiting. Hughes was already in the room with the general, the dark rings under his bloodshot eyes magnified by his lenses. Gran sat at his desk, that ridiculous moustache of his twitching when he saw Roy. The alchemists knew each other well, respected each other’s abilities, but they didn’t like each other. Gran thought Roy was weak. Roy thought Gran was monstrous. The man, much like Kimbley and Silver, had seemed to outrightly enjoy what they had done in Ishbal. Many nights Roy still couldn’t sleep but he doubted Gran had ever lost a moment’s shuteye.

“Mustang, have a seat,” Gran motioned to the one in front of his desk.

Roy sat, never taking his eyes off Gran. He could hear Riza and Breda taking up residence against the back wall. “You asked for me to be reassigned here temporarily, sir.”

Gran frowned, making the scar that cut across the bridge of his nose twist. The absurd thought of how ugly that made this man look raced through Roy’s mind, though there was little that would make him attractive. Gran was as hard as his alchemy. Roy thought if he cut the man open there would be no heart. “Yes, and I assume you partially know why, since you went stumbling after the crime scene even though you were expressly told to stay in your room.”

“Actually, sir, they said to stay away from the area, not that I was confined to quarters,” Roy said, measuring each and every word, feeling several sets of eyes on him. “I stumbled, as you say, across the scene by accident on the way back from a walk.”

“At night? In the rain?” Gran scoffed.

“I sleep poorly, sir, and I had an umbrella,” Roy said and he heard Maes lowly clearing his throat in warning. Roy remembered what Maes had confided in him once, how Gran has summarily killed a superior officer for the hell of it.

Gran’s frowned deepened. Hell, the man was so damn huge, Roy wondered if Gran could reach across the desk and rip his head off. “I should expect this behavior from you, Flame. I always say it never pays to promote people too young. They get full of themselves.”

Roy bowed his head at that. If that was what Gran thought last night’s insubordination was about, Roy should be fairly safe. “Sorry, sir.”

That seemed to appease the man. Gran sat back, templing his fingers. “Hughes, bring them up to speed.” His reptilian gaze slithered over to Maes. “Or did you tell him everything last night?”

“Only that there were four incidents and that we didn’t know much. I planned on taking the lieutenant colonel to the autopsy,” Hughes replied.

“And that the victims were children, you mentioned that,” Roy said, figuring honesty would be best since there was no reason to lie, yet. “I don’t know who would hurt children. No one’s made it clear why I’m here. Is it just to read how these fires were set?”

“It was Hughes’s idea. I thought you’d be useless,” Gran said, his eyes narrowing as they swept back over Roy.

Roy tried not to let his irritation show. “I’m not an investigator, true, but I do know fire.”

“It’s the only reason you’re here. Technically, I’m in charge but the investigation is Hughes’s,” Gran swiveled again to glower at the man. “I know you outrank him, Mustang, but, for the interim, you and your men will be under Hughes.”

“That won’t be a problem, sir,” Roy quickly assured him, thinking of all the ways he’d like to be under Hughes. He shooed those thoughts away as unprofessional and distracting, despite how they might alleviate some of the tension he felt.

“Good. I don’t have to tell any of you that it is very embarrassing to the Fuhrer to have these sorts of crimes against children happening right in his very own town.” Gran’s tone made it clear Iron-Blood had no concern or compassion for the dead children. Nothing existed in him except the climb up the ladder and currying favor with the Fuhrer. “Try to wrap this up quickly.”

“We’ll do our best,” Hughes said. “Hawkeye, Breda, I want you to give Armstrong a hand. Mustang, you’re coming with me to the coroners.”

“Of course.” While glad Gran didn’t detain them even if it meant going to see a dead, burned child, Roy hoped it wouldn’t give him flashbacks, like last night.

* * *

“Knox, haven’t seen you in a while,” Roy said, surprised to see the man in this cramped, stale-smelling, messy office. He missed Hughes’s ‘shut up’ look.

Knox peered at him then blew out a long stream of smoke. “No offense, I never wanted to see you again.”

Roy winced. He knew of the experiments, the horror that Knox had been forced into. They now knew more about treating burns than they had before the war, thanks to the inhumane experiments the doctors had performed on Roy’s victims. “I understand.”

“You were a brat,” Knox added, surprising Roy.

“I was what?” Roy’s jaw dropped. Maes smothered a snicker.

“I haven’t forgotten the ruckus you made in the infirmary after you were shot.”

“I was hit in the head.” Roy touched the little scar hidden by his hair. I thought I was dying!”

“You barely had a scratch and you kept harassing the nurses,” Knox countered. “You were worse when it was one of your men who were hit.”

“That’s called concern, not being a brat.” Roy huffed.

“Doctor, Mustang is joining us on the burn cases,” Maes said before the conversation could degenerate further.

Knox snuffed out his cigarette and beckoned them to follow. If Roy thought the office had smelt stale, it was a breath of paradise compared to the rest of the morgue. The smells of decay, preservatives and disinfectants left his sinuses feeling like they had been scrubbed raw. Knox didn’t seem to notice but Maes looked as uncomfortable as Roy felt. The doctor motioned for them to stay where they were and he disappeared only to return with a gurney that held a too-small body under a stained sheet.

Roy reminded himself he had seen too many burned bodies, that this shouldn’t bother him, but it did. This wasn’t some hellish battlefield where reminders of bleak existence were everywhere. This was a sterile room and this child, with his blackened flesh, shouldn’t be here.

“We got lucky with that fall of rain,” Knox said. “The whole body wasn’t consumed.”

“It’s very hard to burn a body beyond all recognition,” Roy said. “The flesh doesn’t burn easily.”

Knox nodded. “We’ve been assuming there were accelerants used. Mostly all we have are teeth to go by.”

“There have been some cases where identification has been made by dental records,” Maes reminded Roy. “But if these kids didn’t have the money for that sort of care.” His voice trailed off.

“And many don’t,” Knox put in.

Maes folded his arms, his face grim. “Then we’re at a loss.”

“People don’t come looking for lost children?” The question came out unbidden. Roy already knew the answer to that. Look at his mother and her foster kids. How many of them had been thrown out into the street without anyone to look after them?

“Do you know how many people have too many kids they can’t afford? Or are afraid of the law?” Knox asked. “How many kids without parents are running away from orphanages?”

Roy nodded. “I was the latter, doctor.”

Knox eyed him in surprise then grunted. “Then you know what can happen to kids out there.”

Roy lost all color. He could feel it draining out so fast he was tempted to see if it was going down the metal grating under the cadaver’s table. The smell of wintergreen flooded his senses even though he knew it really wasn’t there. The pain, the horrible things people did to children, lurked in the back of his mind, making his knees tremble. He felt Maes’s hand on his arm, and it helped shake off the worst of it. Hograth ,with his breath reeking of wintergreen, wasn’t here to hurt him.

“If you can’t handle the autopsy, Mustang, you’d better leave now,” Knox warned. “If you pass out, I’m not up to treating living patients…not any more.” The ‘not ever again’ was evident in his tone.

Roy gulped, trying to ignore the flood of saliva in his mouth and the twist of his stomach. “I’m fine. Burned bodies bring back bad memories.”

Knox gave him a long look then bellowed, “Thomas, bring in some chairs for the officers and make sure there is plenty of film in the camera.”

“Yes, sir.”

Roy thought the hapless Thomas sounded young and, when the man in question appeared, two rickety wooden fold-up chairs in hand, he was proven right. Roy sat as far as he could from whatever it was Knox was doing - mostly photographing at this point. Maes sat next to Roy, looking vaguely sick as well.

“This is interesting,” Knox said after he had finished peeling burnt fabric and flesh off the corpse and poked around for while.

“What?” Maes asked.

“Not quite sure yet. Swab, Thomas.”

The young man handed a cotton swab to the doctor who shoved it somewhere Roy refused to look too closely at then carried it to where a microscope was set up on the counter space. He rubbed the swab to a slide and turned the light on for the scope. After a bit, Knox harrumphed.

“You found something?” Maes shot the man a hopeful look.

“Whoever killed this boy most likely raped him first. Found semen,” Knox turned back to them. “This is the first time the body hasn’t been too badly burnt for me to make any kind of determination. Mustang, you sure you can handle autopsies? You’re green.”

Mustang just nodded. “I’m fine,” he ground out even though he wasn’t. He wanted to run away but his memories would always follow him.

Knox went back to his work. Roy tried not to hear the wet snap of bone and the smell of cooked innards once Knox got the body open. It seemed like an eternity before the man let Thomas sew the child back up. He peeled off his smeared apron and gloves then wiped sweat off his forehead. Knox looked old to Roy, older than he knew the man to be.

“The hyoid bone is crushed. Someone strangled this young man,” he said. Knox pointed to his neck. “It’s the only free-floating bone and often it’s damaged in strangulation cases.”

“Just like the others,” Maes murmured.

“Except for the one girl. She was stabbed,” Knox countered. “This boy was intact enough to see he has red eyes. That might explain why no one is coming around to report missing children.”

Maes scrubbed a finger in his beard. “Taking children from the Ishbalan shanty towns would make it easier for someone. They could prey on people who wouldn’t go to the authorities.”

“Only if they could lure the kids away from those places,” Knox said, over the sound of water as he washed his hands. “There are some Ishbalans who’d cut the throat of anyone venturing into those places and who could blame them?”

“It would be easy to lure those kids,” Roy said with an air of authority. “They’re hungry. Your guard goes down when you’re starving.”

“No doubt. That’s about all I can give you, Hughes.”

“It’s enough, Doctor. Come on, Roy, let’s go do something with it.” Hughes beckoned for Roy to follow, which he did. “I have an hour for lunch,” Maes added once they were outside the morgue.

Roy left off huffing in fresh air to give his friend a stunned look. “You can eat after that?”

“Probably but I thought we could go back to your place.”

“Why?”

Maes shot him a ‘you’re stupid’ look that merely confused Roy, before the man hailed a cab. “Tell the man where they put you up, Roy.”

Meekly obeying, Roy slid into the car. Once they were underway, he whispered to Maes. “Why is the military even involved in this?”

“First victim was in one of our abandoned warehouses. The order came down to handle everything.”

“Ah.” Roy fell silent, trying not to think about dead children. Instead, he decided to concentrate on the living. “I got the pictures you sent of Elicia. Thanks.”

“I have new ones for you,” Maes returned, brightening considerably.

“New? She’s less than a month old. How much can she have changed?”

“Immensely,” Maes assured him. “She gets more beautiful every day.” His eyes pierced Roy, obviously finding him wanting for not instinctively appreciating Elicia’s growing beauty. “You don’t think Elicia is lovely?”

“New life is always beautiful, Maes, but all babies pretty much look alike.” Roy shrugged.

Maes’ lips thinned. “I should toss you out of the cab and find new lunch plans.”

“Don’t pout,” Roy said. “You aren’t good at it.”

“Guess the king would know,” Maes shot back.

“You’re going to drown me in pictures, aren’t you?” Roy sighed.

“If you lived in Central and could see her daily and know how beautiful she is, I wouldn’t have to.”

“I’d love to be reassigned here but as long as the upper echelons hang onto their seats, getting older by the minute, a young upstart like me will be relegated to the ass-end of the country.” Roy slumped in the seat.

“See this is why young Edward doesn’t like you. The East is his home,” Maes replied. He rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I still don’t fully understand why you recruited him.”

Roy nodded toward the cabby in warning. “Not something I wanted to discuss over the phone.”

Maes grunted, digging in his jacket pocket. He pulled out a photo. “Since you asked, here.”

Roy glanced at the picture of a baby in a pink dress. “You sent me that one.”

“No, I just took these two days ago. I’ve learned to use the base’s dark room. It speeds things along.”

“Maes, you sent me that one.” Roy pushed the picture aside.

Maes flapped the photo at him. “You’re blind. See how much bigger she is already! Look at that smile.”

“I’m not blind. You’re insane.”

“I should shove you out of the cab.”

Roy tossed his hands up. “If you’re going to inflict baby pictures on me the whole way, please do.”

Maes scowled at him then pulled out more photos. “You have to see this one. Look, it’s the dress you bought her.”

Roy accepted the photo. Elicia stared out at him, all huge eyes and fuzz-covered head. “She’s thinking ‘what’s with all this lace’?”

“That or ‘I’m hungry.’ She thinks that one a lot, poor Gracia.” Maes tucked the photo away.

“Makes you selfishly glad your part in the whole creation of life thing is limited to the fun stuff,” Roy replied.

“Yes, but don’t let Gracia heart that. She’ll probably pelt you with everything in the diaper pail.”

Roy shuddered as the cab pulled up to the curb. He paid the man then headed up the walk.

“It’s a nice cottage,” Maes said, shoving the photos back inside his pocket.

“Honestly, it’s almost nicer than my place back home,” Roy replied, letting them in. He immediately relocked the door. He hadn’t been a compulsive locker before the war. His mother always yelled at him for leaving things unlocked. After the war, people came looking for him, both to praise and lambaste him. Roy learned to hold his privacy sacred.

“You haven’t seen my house yet. You need to come to dinner,” Mae said, going over to pull the curtains but stopped when he saw Roy had never bothered to open them.

“Do you think that’s smart?” Roy’s eyebrows arched.

Maes shrugged. “I’ll ask Gracia to see when she feels would be a good time and you’ll probably be eating my cooking.”

“Have you gotten any better since Mom tried to teach you?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll pay for the caterer,” Roy said with a shudder.

“Look at you, so quick to offend when I was just about to do something nice.” Maes pouted.

“Oh?”

The bespeckled man leaned in close. “Do you have the curtains closed in your bedroom?”

“Yeah, I didn’t bother with anything. I just rolled out of bed and met up with Riza and Breda early. Why?”

Maes wrapped his arms around Roy, sucking on the man’s neck. A little ‘oh’ sounded in his ear as his befuddled companion finally figured it out. Maes sealed his mouth over Roy’s, his tongue thrusting past Roy’s lips, tasting him. He kneaded Roy’s ass as his friend moved against him.

Finally, Roy broke free. “Should you be doing this, Maes?”

The investigator slid a hand around to Roy’s crotch, squeezing him. “You’d better hope so, you’re so damn hard already.”

“Maes, I’m being serious,” Roy protested, leaning into that touch, in spite of himself.

“I am, too.” Maes leered. “Gracia told me to come play with you. She’s not ready to have sex yet and figured you’d make an excellent way to burn of some of my energy.”

Roy looped his hands around Maes’ neck. “You’re right about something, you have a great wife.”

“I’m right about a lot of things.” Maes laughed, hauling Roy toward the bedroom. “But I couldn’t exactly put a jar of lotion in my uniform pocket on the way to work.”

“I don’t have any either,” Roy replied and Maes shot him a disappointed look. “What? I didn’t expect you to ravish me within twenty-four hours of my getting into town. It’s not like I’ve been to the pharmacy yet.”

“Never heard of packing things you need?” Maes nipped Roy’s neck.

Roy squirmed away. “Who packed? I grabbed my go-kit and just headed out.”

“Luckily, I can think of many things to do to you that won’t require the lotion.” Maes shut the bedroom door.

Their shirts didn’t make it two steps inside the room before hitting the floor. Hands toyed with nipples, soothed over taut muscles as their mouths explored each other and tasted other favored bits of warm flesh. Maes undid Roy’s zipper, his hands rubbing the soft fabric of the man’s boxers over his rampant cock. Maes shoved Roy’s clothing down then tickled a finger under Roy’s foreskin against the sensitive head.



“Unnngh.” Roy tore at Maes’ belt. “More.”

“You’re so greedy.” Maes obliged him, feeling Roy’s member respond to the touch.

“Always,” Roy panted, getting his hand through the front of Maes’ underpants, caressing his jewels.

Maes wiggled out of his pants, the men pausing long enough to get out of their difficult boots. Maes all but tackled Roy onto the bed. Roy made a startled noise that died as Maes sealed his mouth over his lover’s. Maes kissed his way down Roy’s lean little body, skirting the occasional burn scar; evidence of less than successful attempts at mastering control of his alchemy.

Roy wormed away from him, flipping around so he could start licking his way up the inside of Maes’s thigh. Lying on their sides, they both had easy access to each other’s body. Lips and mouths teased and taunted, rolling over hot, hard cocks, sucking on jewels. Fingers toyed with any part they could reach. Maes tormented Roy with sensual, circular touches around his anus, a reminder to go buy some lotion at his first chance.

Playing each other like concert musicians, the warm wet end to their symphony arrived quickly; leaving them sprawled on the bed too happy to move. Finally, Maes rolled over, rubbing a finger over Roy’s nipple. “We don’t have much of a lunch hour left.”

“Who’s fault is that, idiot?” Roy pouted.

“You are so mean, brat.” Maes tweaked the nipple at hand.

“Next time plan for more time,” Roy said, rolling out of bed, heading for the shower.

“Next time have lubrication, brat.”

“You keep calling me that,” Roy tossed a wicked grin over his shoulder. “and I’ll lock you out of the shower.”

“Absolute brat.” Maes bounced off the bed and chased Roy into the bathroom.

Later, showered and redressed, they headed back to town on foot. The grey sky felt close and ominous as if the rain was tracking them and biding its time. Roy’s belly growled loudly.

“This is all your fault, Hughes.”

“Like you were protesting.” Maes patted Roy’s belly. “I didn’t think that part of you ever required filling. You’re so skinny.”

“Wiry,” Roy huffed. “You know I’m all muscle.”

“Yes, I do.” Maes leered.

Roy shoved him and hustled down the sidewalk, spotting a street vendor. The shaved, spiced meat tucked into a flat bread wrapping languished in its wrapper until he managed to get to his temporary office. No surprise to him, Breda and Riza were already there, talking quietly when he came in and threw himself down in his seat. Roy unwrapped the fragrant, cucumber and yogurt sauced sandwich, taking a hearty bite.

“You look more relaxed than this morning, sir,” Breda observed.

“Yes, you do.” Unlike Breda’s unwitting comment, Riza’s was accompanied by a knowing eye roll. “Did you learn anything helpful?” Breda continued and Roy almost lost his appetite.

“Helpful, that’s a way of putting it. First, did anyone check up on the boys back home?”

“Falman says if Hawkeye ever leaves again, he’ll preemptively kill Havoc to save himself headaches.” Breda grinned. “I had to put Hawkeye on the line to bully them.”

“I do not bully people,” Hawkeye replied loftily.

“Yes, you…” Roy started then stuffed the sandwich into his mouth when she glared. “Let me finish eating then I’ll tell you what the autopsy revealed. Did you learn anything else?”

As if on cue, Armstrong came in, pulling a wheeled chalk board with him. On one side, a map of the city had been tacked up. “We find using a chalk board very helpful,” he said. “And Hughes started marking sites of fires with child victims on the map. This is a copy.” The huge man stopped and eyed Roy. “Are you all settled in, Colonel? Is there anything else you need?”

“I think we’re fine. We could have used the map you guys are. We’re just down the hall, after all,” Roy replied.

“We often make more than one copy.” Armstrong waved him off.

“Is there anything else at any of these scenes besides the body?” Roy got up, peering at the map.

“Sadly no. Those poor children.” Armstrong’s whole face dropped.

“You didn’t tell us what they found on autopsy, sir.”

“So true, Hawkeye. I wanted to let that lunch settled or else it might get a little miserable in here,” Roy replied.

“Allow me, sir,” Armstrong said. “Dr. Knox was very swift with his reports. Last night’s victim was an unknown male child, evidence of rape.” He paused at Breda’s startled inrush of air. “The fire was not the cause of death. He was strangled before the building was set on fire.”

“Accelerant was poured on the victim,” Roy added. “He was definitely trying to hide what had been done to the children.”

“Who does this to a child?” Breda’s fist pounded on top of the desk.

Roy couldn’t suppress another shudder. “I don’t know but they do it all the time. Armstrong, how many missing kids are there in this city?”

Armstrong shook his domed head, misery etched into his face. “Far too many. That is where we’ve started looking but like we said last night, unless there are dental records there won’t be any other way to identify them,” he said. “I’ll bring up a stack of missing children’s reports that you can go through and eliminate the unlikelies based on Knox’s estimations of age.”

“And we’re afraid that these kids are from the poor side of town and there won’t be any records nor anyone coming forward to say their child is missing,” Maes said from the doorway.

“I thought about that. The boy this morning had red eyes. If this person is pulling kids from the encampments, we’ll never find the parents. They won’t trust us,” Roy said and his companions scowled, knowing he was right.

“How would this person lure an Ishbalan?” Breda asked. His narrowed eyes studied the map, taking in all the information. Roy wondered if Breda might be able to surmise where the next body drop could be. With the man’s deductive skills, he might be wasted in Roy’s unit but Roy wasn’t about to let him go.

“Food,” Roy muttered, suppressing yet another shiver. Memories from his childhood tried to well up but he crushed them back.

“If this killer is only taking Ishbalan children, we may never find him.” Maes tried to slick his bangs back with the rest of his hair but it refused to stick. “Right now we should just keep concentrating on the missing children’s reports. We might get lucky.”

Roy picked up a file. Silence enveloped the room as they set to work.

Chapter Three

Maes watched Elicia sleeping until Gracia came in to fetch him out of the baby’s room and chivvied him to theirs.

“You’ve been quiet all evening,” she said, crawling into bed.

Maes took off his shirt. “Thinking about this case.”

She rested back against the flowery sheets. “You never tell me about your work.”

“You already don’t get enough sleep.” He tossed his trousers into the hamper. “It’s nothing I want to tell you about just before you go to bed. Ask me in the morning.” Maes climbed into bed with her, putting an arm around his wife. “It’s really Roy I’m worried about.”

Gracia snuggled against him. “I don’t understand.”

Maes ran his fingers through her hair, debating on how much he could tell her. “You know that both of us grew up with a foster mother.”

“Yes.”

“My father was an investigator and he knew Chris. I went to her when he was killed in the line of duty,” Maes said, trying not to think about that. He remembered his father dying, the fear of what would happen to him, the loneliness of not having his father. “Mom died of childbirth fever, which if you wonder why I hover about and fuss so much, well, that’s it.”

Gracia’s green eyes saddened and she put her hand on his cheek. “I’m fine, Maes.”

“And I want to keep you that way. Anyhow, it was rough for me but nothing like Roy. His mother was murdered by his step dad and a lot of bad things happened to Roy and his sister. They lived on the street for some time before Chris found them. Roy couldn’t have been more than seven and he looked a lot younger. He was a little kid and I looked out for him since sometimes our siblings could get a little rambunctious. Not everyone Chris took in turned out nice.”

“I’m sure there’s always that risk, taking on fosters who had so much trauma in their young lives,” Gracia squeezed his hand.

“And some were just bad seed, like Roy’s original step-siblings. They really knocked him and his sister around, Roy more so since his sister was a few years older and she’s damned tough.” Maes sighed. “Someone is hurting kids,” he admitted, feeling her tense. “Which is why I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“And you think it’s making Roy think of how bad things used to be?” Gracia turned worried eyes up at him.

“I know it is. I can see it in his eyes. He’s going to be in for a rough night.” Maes wished he could do something about it but, even if he left his wife and child, there would be little he could do to help Roy through it.

“Do you want to go and be with him, Maes? I wouldn’t mind.” Gracia squeezed his hand again. “I would hate to think of Roy just sitting there by himself, frightened and alone.”

Maes kissed her. “You are an amazing woman, Gracia, but my place is here with you and Elicia. Roy will either go to Mom’s or Riza will go to him. Someone will be there to take care of him.”

“I hope so for his sake.”

Maes didn’t want to worry Gracia any more than he already had but he certainly hoped so, too.

* * *

Roy hunched his shoulders against the damp wind. He didn’t mind the cold; he missed it out East where winters were short. However, the promise of another autumn storm added an unpleasant, bone-aching element to the night air. There was nothing to do but read the books he had managed to slip into his bag in his hurry to get to Central. With the demons howling in his head, reading had no appeal. He had hailed a cab and ended up outside his mother’s bar.

He collided with a man who was coming out at the same time as he tried to get into the bar. A sneer cut across the man’s pale face. Roy moved to the side, “Sorry,” he muttered, scrutinizing the man. There was something so familiar about his lack of coloring, in the hard grey eyes hooded under eyebrows so pale they were nearly invisible. Whatever it was, Roy couldn’t place the face.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man growled but Roy didn’t feel like fighting tonight. He simply slithered inside, determined to forget every unpleasant thing that happened today.

Roy tossed himself down at one of the worst tables in the place, shoved into a corner. He was hoping it would discourage anyone trying to come up and talk to him. He knew he should go talk to one of his sisters or his mother, since that was why he had made the trip, but he didn’t even have enough energy to even make it to the brass rail and get something to drink. Eventually, someone would notice he was just sitting alone in the dark and come see what he wanted.

Roy watched the fire dancing in the fireplace catty corner to his table. The heat helped drive off the damp born of autumn rain. He never admitted it to anyone buy Roy enjoyed watching fire move, loved the colors as they subtly changed whenever they hit an impurity or a bit of sap. He always had enjoyed it but he kept that fact secret. People already thought he was a fire freak, that flames got him off. He should tell Maes tomorrow that the fire could be more than a means to hide child rape. There were those who really did get off on fire.

He was so lost in the flames, he didn’t hear someone approach his table.

“Are you woolgathering?”

Roy startled, banging his knee on the table. He hissed, rubbing the joint as he glared up at the dark-skinned girl. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

“I’ve been standing here for a minute. You’re too busy thinking happy thoughts about fire.” Regina, one of his many sisters, said.

Roy snorted. “There is nothing happy about fire, not any more,” he lied almost competently. He did have a few untainted joys left to fire but again, he didn’t want to hear how it was his aphrodisiac.

Regina rolled her eyes. “The Madam wants to see you.”

Roy levered himself up and followed Regina back to their mother’s office. Regina had let her tightly coiled hair get long. It looked like a mass of springs that waved when she walked. There was a lightness to her hairdo that lifted his mood a little.

Regina abandoned him at the Madam’s door. Roy knocked lightly then slipped in without waiting for a response. It was suddenly important to see his mother. He’d accept the punishment if she were still busy with something.

Roy spotted the flash of concern the moment he stepped inside her office, capturing that vision just before Chris suppressed it. “You knew what I’d be facing, didn’t you?” he snapped. “Last night, you could have told me this person was raping children.”

Chris’ dark eyes snapped opened and he realized his mother hadn’t known. She whipped out from behind her desk, faster than Roy had seen her more in a long time. Chris took his hand. “That’swhat is happening?”

“Yes!” Roy knew that was unfair of him. No one had known about the rapes until today but his mood was a vicious one that didn’t care too much about details.

Chris guided him to the old insanely bright flowery patterned couch shoved up along one wall and forced him down. The cushions swallowed him up. She kept the couch for nights when she needed a nap at the office. Chris sat next to him, putting a fleshy arm around his shoulders. “I didn’t know that, Roy.”

He trembled, leaning against her, feeling like a desperate child. “They just found out this morning. This last child hadn’t been burned as badly. Knox could figure out more about the crime.” Roy rubbed a hand over his mouth. “But you knew children were the target.”

“I didn’t want involve you, Roy, but Maes thought he needed your help.”

Roy saw something he rarely saw in his mother’s eyes, abject worry. It was for him and Roy couldn’t tell her not to worry. He needed someone who could visible worry over him and fret and comfort him. Riza couldn’t do that and Maes would be limited in what he could do. Roy spent so much time worrying about everyone else: Maes, Riza, that poor kid he just roped into the military, the snappy little dog, Elric. Wasn’t it time for someone to worry about him? It was selfish. He knew it. He didn’t care. “His boss doesn’t want me here.”

Chris pushed his bangs out of his eyes, trying to smooth them back into a proper hair style. They sprang back the moment her hand moved. “You don’t give a damn that Gran doesn’t want you.”

“I care insomuch as I want to know where he is and if he’s planning on trying to remove me. He would smile for a change if he could think of a way to get rid of me permanently, especially if it didn’t incriminate him.” Roy took a deep breath in but it turned into a choke. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Chris pulled him closer, letting him bury his face against her neck. She smelled like cigarettes and roses. Her hand stroked his back. “You are one of the strongest men I know, son. You are stronger than this ghost that haunts you.”

“Why does it have to be raining on top of it all?” Roy shuddered, putting his arms around his adoptive mother. He was seven again and he needed someone to make the monsters go away. “He liked it when it would storm and drown out the noise.” Roy hiccupped, tears he did not want to lose to forming in his eyes. “He killed Mom in the rain.”

Her hand didn’t still. “I know, Roy boy, I know. But Stewart Hograth can’t hurt you any more. He’s very dead.” Chris said that with a large dollop of satisfaction.

“I know.” Roy couldn’t hold back any more and a few tears escaped the prison of his lashes, making a break for it down over his cheeks. “I haven’t had to think about him in so long.”

“I should have made Maes forget this idea,” she said, squeezing him. Chris gave him time to regain his composure then she slid free of his grasp. His mother fetched a heavy comforter and a flattish pillow out of the closet. “Lie down for a while, Roy.” She didn’t give him much choice, forcing him down on the cushions. Roy managed to kick off his boots before she had him tucked in so tight he wasn’t sure he could move. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

Roy didn’t have the heart to tell her he probably couldn’t get an arm free to accept a drink. Instead, he snuggled into the couch. “I just need to rest a little. I’ll be fine, Madam,” he replied, trying to find his center using formality.

“If you want something, just holler.”

Chris sat back at her desk and went back to work, giving him his space so he could piece together his dignity. Roy had almost drifted off when he heard a knock at the door. He shut his eyes as Chris went to answer it, not listening to the hushed conversation she had with whoever was on the other side. Calloused fingers touched his cheek, startling him. He looked up into Riza’s concerned eyes.

“Riza, why are you here?”

“I thought you might need me.” She sat against the crook of his hip. Her eyes widened a bit, seeing the tight blanket around him. “I know you can’t be feeling good after what you learned today.”

“I’ve been better.” He squirmed an arm free so he could take her hand. “I just didn’t want to be alone so I came here.”

“I have an apartment above the bar. You two can stay there whenever you need to be alone,” Chris said, heading for the door.

“Thanks, ma’am,” Roy said. His mother nodded and shut the door behind her.

Taking advantage of the windowless office, Riza leaned down and kissed him. “Do you want to go up to that apartment, Roy? You don’t look like you should be alone.”

He brushed her hair back, the skin of her forehead soft under his fingers. “I do but I won’t. We just got here. I can’t guarantee that I won’t get called to another crime scene in the middle of the night. I don’t want them wondering where I am or where you are.”

Riza stole another kiss. “Are you sure? We could go up for a little while, help you relax.”

“No, that didn’t…” Roy bit his lower lip, his cheeks going pink. Riza knew already that he had been with Maes but still, sometimes sex could make him feel like a little kid. Maybe it was because he was bundled up like a child in his mother’s room.

“Were you going to say it didn’t work when you tried it at lunch?” Riza tapped his chin. “I can do things Maes can’t.”

Roy grinned. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“So do you want to go up?” Riza tugged at his blanket, giving him the idea that it had been a little too long for her.

“You’re as bad as Maes. I still haven’t had time to go to the pharmacy. I don’t have condom tins hidden around my person and I am not raiding anything my sisters might have here.” A sudden image that it might be his mother who had the condoms in her office made all desire fly away.

“We’ll work around that,” Riza assured him.

Roy struggled out of the blanket. Sex didn’t sound like a terrible idea. He might just forget for a little while just how shaken he was. If not, at least he’d still have Riza to hold on to for a little while.

* * *

Lauren looked up from counting the take for the week when her brother strolled into the office and tossed himself down on the battered leather chair in front of her desk. He struck that lazy, open-legged pose he usually tried with the ladies. Too bad for him, he took after their mother who had been a rich, fat cow their father had managed to seduce. Now getting closer to forty than thirty, Nick was getting jowly and his pale features made him look even more like he was sculpted from half-risen dough. Lauren didn’t particularly like her brother but for all his foolish, brutish behavior, he was easy to manipulate.

“I saw someone today we haven’t seen in years.” Nick scratched at his belly. “That’s the one good thing about how famous that little crybaby got to be. I still don’t get how he managed that.”

Lauren looked up curiously. “What are you blathering about?”

“Mustang.”

She set aside the money, giving her brother her full attention. “What? Where?”

“At Sparky’s. I was coming out when he was going in.”

Lunging over her desk at him, Lauren clamped a hand over his wrist, her nails digging into his skin. “What in the hell were you doing there? You idiot! Don’t you know how dangerous that is? What if that woman saw you?”

“So what if she does?” Nick yanked free, examining his scratched flesh. “It’s not like the fat bitch knows what we’re doing here.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Lauren rubbed her forehead, her mind whipping this information around. If Christmas had recognized her brother, if any of the rumors about the woman were true, Christmas might divine what Lauren and her brother were up to. “Father always thought it was Christmas who got him jailed for killing that dirty foreign bitch he married.”

“How would she even know who I am? It’s been over two decades and we were kids at the time.”

Lauren nodded, though she remained unconvinced. It might be time to move the operation west. She’d known Christmas was in Central but the city had a large Ishbalan slum full of easy targets. The East, where the best pickings were to be had, was where Mustang was stationed. After what they had put him through when they were kids, Lauren knew that the slant-eyed freak would never forget them. The west would probably have Creatan slums they could cull the children from. She and her brother had more problems than even Mustang and Christmas. “I think we should stop selling to Beckert.”

Nick’s grey eyes dilated and he hiked his frame up on the seat. “Are you crazy? He’s paying twice the normal rate.”

“And he’s setting fires. We keep telling him we have people to dispose of the dolls when they’re broken,” Lauren said, always using their code for the children they sold. She could never be sure someone wasn’t listening in. “Discreetly. We haven’t been caught once. I’m not about to start now. Besides, how long can he afford to keep paying us? He’s well paid by that academy but not enough to match his appetites. He’s got a taste for breaking his dolls.”

Nick pouted like he always did ever since he was a kid. “Not yet. We can’t quit yet. It’s easy pickings here. We have a jailer who likes our dolls. He’d silence Beckert for us if the fool gets caught.”

“You’d better hope that Beckert doesn’t spill to the authorities before he’s jailed.”

Nick rubbed his chin making it wobble like gelatin. “I wonder if the jailer would know any investigators who’d like a doll. These guys talk and share with each other.”

“Look into it,” Lauren said, turning back to her money. “And send Downard and Miller out to find us a few more dolls in the meantime.” While her brother was busy with that, Lauren decided she’d get out the maps and check the south and the west for cities big enough to make their operation profitable. With Mustang in the east and now, apparently in Central, she wanted as far from him as possible. Too bad the north wouldn’t allow for easy access to children. Limits or no, Lauren knew she could find something that would work.

on to chapter 4-5