Already Seen (Laura Frost FBI)

“Alright,” Laura nodded, ending the call. She would have preferred for him to hurry up and tell her what she needed to know, but maybe it would be easier to explain in person. Besides, there was a small part of her – a very small, infinitesimal part – that wanted to see him again, anyway.

She watched as he threw back the last of whatever was in a cup in front of him and then got up, grabbing a satchel bag from the back of a chair and rushing out to the street. He crossed to her without incident, and then she stood awkwardly in front of him, suddenly realizing it would have made so much more sense for her to go and sit with him than for them both to stand in the street.

“So, what did you need?” Caleb asked. He was healthier looking than the first time she had seen him, with shock making him pale and drawn. He had the kind of energy that can only come from actually having had enough sleep, and she envied him that as he swept his dark hair back away from his forehead.

“I’m looking for a place,” she said. “It’s a very specific place that a witness described to us, but they had no idea where it actually was – just that it was in Seattle. It sounds like it might be the kind of place where performances happen, which is why I was thinking you might know.”

“Sure,” Caleb said. “What information did they give you?”

“Well, it’s a big open space,” Laura said. “A wooden stage area with marble surfaces around it. Oh, and there was some kind of sign with the word ‘Carnegie’ on the inside, near the chairs.”

“Carnegie,” Caleb said thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. “Okay. That’s the Divisionary Town Hall, over in Fremont.”

“You’re sure?” Laura asked. Her heart was starting to race. Could this be the break she needed?

“Yeah, they label all the different entrances with the names of other big theatres and entertainment centers around the country,” he said. “Despite the name, it’s used as a theatre almost exclusively now. I’ve performed there a few times, you know, local productions and auditions.”

“How far is it from here?” Laura asked, tapping open the map on her cell phone. She had intended to search for it on her GPS, but Caleb made a loose shrugging gesture towards her car.

“It’s not far. I can take you there now, if you’d like?”

Laura bit her lip, thinking. Nate was expecting her back, but it would be much easier to explain this lead if he wasn’t present during the exploration. And if the killer really was going to be at this theatre today, then Nate was better off safe in the precinct, where the shadow of death couldn’t be a threat.

And she didn’t allow herself to think about it, but yes: it was a chance to spend a little more time with Caleb.

“Yes, alright,” she said, taking him to the car. It was lucky she’d thought to pick up another set of keys from the rental place, to avoid situations in which one of them couldn’t drive because the other had gone off with them in their pocket. She fired off a text to Nate telling him she was following a new tip as she walked, hoping he would be busy enough taking reports from the detectives who had been finishing up calls to the last of Suzanna’s list to want to follow her.

Laura got into the car and started the engine, and it was only as Caleb reached over to buckle his seatbelt that she registered the fact that they were now sitting very close together. Closer than they had in the diner. There was a strange kind of intimacy to being in the front seat of a car with someone, unable to ignore the way they breathed or every shift in position they made.

“Take a left out of the precinct,” Caleb said easily, seemingly not feeling awkward at all.

“When we get there,” Laura said, following his direction. “You’re going to have to wait outside.”

“What? Why?” Caleb asked, sounding put out. “Take the next right.”

“Because you’re a civilian,” Laura said. “I can’t let you put yourself into danger. And we don’t know who the killer is, or if he’ll be there. You need to stay outside while I check it out – go home, even.”

“Turn left up ahead, then straight through the next two intersections,” Caleb said. “Look, that doesn’t bother me. The danger thing. I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Laura said, amused. “That’s not the point.”

“Well, how are you going to get in without me?” Caleb asked.

“I’ll show them my badge,” Laura said, but the moment the words left her mouth, she knew it wasn’t right. If she did that, the killer might get a chance at knowing there was an FBI agent in the building. That could send them to ground – or even force them to do something drastic. She couldn’t risk that. She sighed. “Or I can just tell them I’m an actress, or something.”

“But just being an actress wouldn’t be a reason to go in,” Caleb pointed out. “You take the left turn after this intersection. I’ve worked there – the staff on the door will know me. I can tell them I need to go pick something up from backstage and they’ll believe me.”

Laura sighed.

“It’s up ahead after the next right,” Caleb said.

“Fine,” Laura said. “You can come in. But the second there’s any hint of danger, you stay behind and stay out of the way.”

“Got it,” Caleb said, and she didn’t need to look at him to hear the grin in his voice.

A large building loomed up in front of them. It was decorated out front with huge posters advertising upcoming productions – a musical, a new stage production of a classic play, a charity concert night. Laura didn’t even need to be told that this was where they were headed for. The Divisionary Town Hall stood out, a pale stone against the more modern buildings around it, clearly designated now for the purpose of entertainment despite the strict and utilitarian style of the exterior.

Laura pulled up in the parking lot and killed the engine, sitting in thought for a moment. Should she go in? Maybe she would recognize the woman, be able to get her to safety. But she was alone without backup, and Caleb was a civilian.