Fic: L'homme Vaudou (2/8)
Back to Chapter 1
The Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport was crowded with tourists excited to see the Big Easy. Jensen had to wait for about 20 minutes for a cab to become available. Usually he would have been picked up by Mac or Jeff-- this time, he was on his own in a city he wasn’t that familiar with. Jensen was glad he’d flown first class after all. There was a baby in Economy that wouldn’t stop crying and he was happy he could only hear it faintly. He was too worried about Jeff and Mackenzie to put up with that.
He gave the cabbie Mackenzie’s address, sat back and scrolled through his phone. There were no updates on Jeff’s disappearance. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to will away the headache that was starting to throb in his temple.
The traffic was thick; - it was rush hour, and even with the slow nature of the city the roads were still congested. Mackenzie’s apartment was near Tulane; they’d picked it because it was within walking distance of the campus. Jensen smiled at the memory of the little blue Vespa they’d bought used for her to zoom around the city.
Once they arrived, Jensen paid the driver, grabbed his bags and headed up to Mackenzie’s apartment. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, dreading what he might find, but the apartment looked normal. Nothing was out of place--everything looked ordinary as usual. The cheerful space was full of color; bold art prints on the walls, a red couch with yellow pillows and a patterned fleece throw scrunched up to one side.
“Mac? You here?” Jensen quickly went through the rooms, but the apartment was empty. He made another circuit, this time looking for items that might have been out of place. He noticed the throw blanket looked rumpled, like perhaps someone had used it to cover themselves up.
There were several pairs of shoes piled up near the door, but Jensen couldn’t tell if they’d been worn recently or not. A black leather purse lay on the coffee table that Jensen remembered buying Mac for her birthday last year. Next to it was a glass of water and a bottle of Advil. He grabbed some paper towels from the kitchen and carefully opened the purse. Mackenzie’s wallet with her ID and money were inside along with a small planner. Jensen flipped through the pages but saw nothing out of the ordinary; her class schedule, teaching assistant schedule, and meetings with Jeff were penciled in neatly on the specific dates.
Jensen quickly dialed Mackenzie’s phone number yet again, hoping to hear he finally pick up, but it went to voicemail without him hearing the phone ring in her apartment. So wherever she was, her phone was most likely with her. As a last resort, he skimmed through her mail, using a pen he found to flip through it. Nothing new since the day he first hadn’t heard from her.
Time to make it official. He was going to have to file a missing person’s report. With a ball of anxiety in his stomach, Jensen looked up the address for the 2nd District Police Department.
Jensen left the apartment, calling a cab on his way down the elevator. A short wait had him standing outside as the cab pulled up to the curb. “New Orleans Police, 2nd District please,” he told the driver, shoving his duffel across the back seat.
Fifteen minutes later he walked through the glass doors of the precinct. The desk clerk, an older woman with her grey hair pulled back in a low pony tail, smiled as he approached. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?”
“Jensen Ackles, private investigator out of New York City.” Impressed by her politeness, he showed her his ID and license. “I need to report a missing person.”
“One moment, sir.” She quickly made a call. “Detective Williams will see you. The bullpen is back that way to your left.” She pointed down the hall. “He’s the third desk down.”
Jensen headed down the hallway, enjoying the sounds of activity throughout the station. It wasn’t New York, but the energy and the sounds of a police station anywhere were the same. It soothed him in a reassuring way.
Detective Williams was on the phone when Jensen entered the bullpen. Williams was a strongly built dark skinned man with hair graying at his temples. As Jense n approached his desk, Williams waved Jensen over to a seat as he finished his conversation. “No, Auntie, I’m not gonna tell you who vandalized the playground so you can put a spell on them! Let us do our work, okay? I have to earn my paycheck somehow.” Williams rolled his eyes and grinned at Jensen. “Yes I’ll be over for étouffé and Ceremony on Sunday. Love you too, Auntie.”
He hung up the phone and sighed. “Family. What can you do.”
Jensen chuckled as he sat down in the spare chair. “So your aunt wanted to know the name of a perp so she could cast a spell?”
“Yup.” Williams took a sip of the coffee he had on his desk, grimaced, and stood up, motioning for Jensen to follow him. “Some young punk tagged the local playground and my Auntie wanted to teach him a lesson.”
“So do you believe in that…what…voodoo stuff?” Jensen asked, following him to the little kitchenette. “What your Aunt was talking about?”
“Son, you are in N’Awlins.” Williams drew out a Cajun accent. “It’s like breathing. And I’ve seen some stuff happen that has no rational explanation. Plus, it can’t hurt to err on the side of the Loa - the spirits.” He spilled out his cold coffee and refreshed his cup. “Coffee?”
“Sure.” Jensen poured a mug, adding sugar and powdered creamer, anticipating the usual crappy brew that most precincts had. He took a sip, and was pleasantly surprised at the quality, the chicory flavor bursting on his tongue. “Hey, this is pretty good.”
“I know, right?” Williams chuckled and took a sip from his own mug. “We don’t get much in the way of perks, but the Captain makes sure we get the good coffee.” They sat back down at William’s desk. “So tell me what can I help you with?”
“My sister, Mackenzie Ackles, is missing.” Jensen explained the situation, filling in details as Detective Williams took notes. “I went to her apartment and looked around. The only indication she’d been there was her purse on the coffee table. No phone and no new mail since the day I first called and got her voicemail message. Don’t worry.” Jensen saw that Williams was about to speak up. “I didn’t touch anything bare handed. However, my prints are still on file with the New York Police Department if you need to rule me out.”
Williams nodded towards Jensen’s cane. “Retirement?”
Jednsen chuckled dryly. “Not my choice, but yeah.”
“Sucks. You get Detective?”
“Sure does.” Jensen puffed out a breath. “Got to 2nd grade. Still wanted to be out in the field. That’s how I got this.” He patted his leg. “Shattered the bone pretty good. I’ll walk without the cane eventually but no more active duty for me.”
Williams finished taking notes. “Okay, I’ve got everything I need to get started. Anything else you want to add?”
“Yeah. I just saw in the news the other day that one of our friends is missing now too. Professor Jeff Morgan, at Tulane.” Jensen replied.
Williams sat back with a frown on his face. “You know Professor Morgan?”
“Yeah, Mac is one of his teaching assistants. I called him Monday to see if he could find out if Mackenzie was okay. Then I heard the news about his disappearance.”
“That puts a different spin on things,“ Williams replied. “Especially if they are linked.” He sighed. “Kurt Fuller is the lead on the Morgan case.”
“And why do I get the idea that that’s not a good thing,” Jensen commented wryly.
“Because, in plain terms, Fuller is an asshole.” Williams snorted. “Let me call him and you can see for yourself.” He picked up the phone and a short time later Kurt Fuller appeared.
Jensen immediately disliked him. Fuller radiated the arrogance of someone who felt he had to overcompensate for being incompetent. His swagger, smarmy grin, and beady eyes turned Jensen’s stomach. Even his voice was pompous.
“What can I do for you, Williams?” Fuller asked, looming over them.
“Kurt, this is Jensen Ackles, former detective from the New York City PD. His sister is missing and she’s Jeffrey Morgan’s teaching assistant. Thought you two should meet.”
“Hmm….” Fuller trained his beady eyes on Jensen, looked at his cane, then looked away with a sniff. Jensen sensed the dismissal and it pissed him off. In retaliation, Jensen turned on the charm.
He stood and offered his hand. “Glad to meet you, Detective. Williams tells me that you’re in charge of the Morgan case. Jeff’s a close friend and I’d like to be of assistance if I can.”
Fuller ignored his hand. “Thank you for your offer, but we’re good here.” Fuller’s reply was abrupt. “Detective Williams will keep you updated on your sister’s case.” Fuller looked at Williams with what only could be disgust, before turning and leaving them.
“Well, that was pleasant. Not.” Jensen muttered.
“Yeah, see what I mean? Asshole,” Williams replied with a smirk. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to see if he’d be willing to share but as usual, no dice.” Williams sized Jensen up. “I’m assuming you’re going to ignore him and do some investigating on your own?”
“Who, me?” Jensen grinned with wide eyes. “I would never do that.”
“Uh huh,” Williams responded wryly. “Just be careful. You’re on his radar rt5and he’s a vindictive bastard.”
“Noted.” Jensen dug into his pocket and pulled out his key ring. Removing a key, he slid it over to Williams. “Here’s a spare key to Mackenzie’s apartment, since you’ll need to go take a look. I usually stay there when I’m in town, but since it might wind up being a crime scene I thought I’d get a hotel room.”
“You know where you’re staying yet?” Williams asked as he pocketed the key and wrote Jensen a receipt.
“Nope. Been too busy to find a place yet.” Jensen folded the receipt and shoved it into his pocket. “I’ll call you once I get settled.”
“Here’s a list of decent hotels that’ll offer you a police discount.” Williams opened his desk drawer and handed Jensen a list. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll even throw in a packed lunch.”
“I appreciate it, Detective.” Jensen picked up his bags. “I’m gonna head over to the University first and ask around about Mac. I’ll call you when I check in and let you know if I find anything. On either case.” He winked at Williams and smiled when the other man laughed. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Same same.” Williams’ face became serious. “I hope we find your sister soon.”
“Me too,” Jensen sighed. “Me too.”
Twenty minutes and another cab ride later, Jensen stood outside of Jeff’s building. He always was impressed by the stone architecture and the leaded glass windows. He would tease Jeff that he worked at Hogwarts. He took a deep breath and entered the building, climbing the steps to get to Jeff’s office. There weren’t many people around in the hallway, and those that were passing by scuttled like they were afraid that something would jump out at them. Jensen assumed that it was the news of Jeff’s disappearance that was making everyone so edgy.
Jensen knocked lightly on the door, just as a courtesy, but expected no answer. He tried the knob and was pleased to find the door unlocked. He didn’t want to have to break out his lock picks. Placing his bags on a side chair, he looked around the room.
The space was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Jensen had spent many occasions in Jeff’s office when he’d been down visiting Mackenzie just shooting the breeze about work, Jeff’s classes, and various other miscellaneous topics. The paneled walls had always given the space a warm comfortable feeling. The clutter was just so Jeff; student essays, textbooks and folklore and ancient civilizations covered every flat surface, but Jensen would bet that Jeff knew where everything was. And, of course, there was the required New Orleans Saints jersey framed and mounted on the wall.
Now, though, it felt stark and cold. Without Jeff’s presence, the room felt sterile. Jensen shivered and told himself it was just a chill, not someone walking over his grave.
He looked over Jeff’s desk and noticed that his day planner was missing. Jeff never went anywhere without that worn-out leather book. Jensen had always seen it in Jeff’s hands. He jokingly said he kept track of all the monsters - meaning his students and TAs - in it and he’d be lost if it ever disappeared. Jensen assumed that the police had taken it, since the room had obviously been searched at some point.
Sighing, he sat down in Jeff’s chair and pulled open the desk’s lower left drawer. Jeff had always told him that that was where he’d kept his TA files. Jensen retrieved Mackenzie’s and started to flip through it, hoping for some sort of lead as to where she might be.
“Can I help you?” A deep, rich voice spoke.
Jensen’s head flew up to find a gorgeous man standing in the doorway. Tall and built, just like Jensen liked them, with deep brown hair glinting in the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He was holding several books, and was dressed in a deep blue button down and black trousers. He was obviously not a student; he was too well-dressed for one.
The newcomer’s eyes were narrowed in what Jensen surmised was suspicion. Jensen also noticed they were blue, no, brown, no wait, hazel. The stranger’s lips were thinned in displeasure at the moment, but they looked like they would be soft and inviting if he smiled.
“Excuse me. I said, can I help you?” The voice was rough. but strong and firm.
“Sorry, sorry.” Jensen stood up and walked around Jeff’s desk. “I didn’t expect anyone to come in. I’m Jensen Ackles.” He smiled and held out a hand, hoping the stranger wouldn’t call security. “I’m Mackenzie Ackles’ brother.”
The newcomer relaxed and took Jensen’s hand to shake. “Jensen. Mac talks about you all the time. The cop, right? I’m Jared Padalecki, one of the professors here in the Anthropology department.”
“Private Investigator now. I retired from the force. Pleasure to meet you.” It certainly was. Jared was definitely nice to look at. Jensen felt the strong grip of Jared’s hand and a little spark when they touched. He wondered how that grip would feel on his -. Jensen shook himself. He didn’t need that right now.
“Are you here to see Jeff?” Jared put the books he was carrying down on the desk. “I assume you didn’t hear the news? Jeff’s missing.”
“I heard. That’s exactly why I’m here. Mackenzie is missing too. I called Jeff to see if he knew anything about it. Then I saw the news reports.”
“Mac’s missing too?” Jared sucked in a breath. “I just saw her the other day.” He sat down in one of the vacant chairs.
“When? When did you see her last?” Jensen knew he sounded demanding, but this was the first piece of new information he’d gotten since he started trying to find Mackenzie.
“I think it was Monday? We’d all gone out to Sazenac’s, a local bar that the department frequents. Mac had too much to drink so I made sure she got home safely.”
Jensen tensed. “Did you enter her apartment?”
“Yeah,” Jared replied. “I helped her lie down on her couch, put a throw blanket over her, and set a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on the coffee table.”
“Then what?”
“Then I left.” Jared shrugged. “She crashed out as soon as she lay down. Not much else I could do.”
“Did you see her the next day?” Jensen questioned.
“No, Mac’s not in any of my classes and what with her being Jeff’s TA, I rarely get to see her.” Jared shook his head. “I can’t believe she’s missing too.”
“Can you give me a list of everyone who went out with you two that night? I’ve filed a missing person’s report with the police, but it would be very helpful if they could follow up on the names.” Jensen took out his phone and clicked on the Notes app.
“Sure.” Jared listed the names of everyone that was at the bar that night. “Does this mean I’m a suspect?”
“You were the last to see her so that always makes someone a person of interest.” Jensen finished writing. “I’m sure the police are going to want to talk to you and probably take your fingerprints, just to rule you out.”
“Okay.” Jared looked uncertain. “What do you think?”
Jensen paused. Jared struck him as innocent, but until he had the facts he didn’t want to say. “I can’t speculate one way or another,” he hedged. But I think you should go see Detective Steven Williams sooner rather than later. He’s in charge of Mackenzie’s case.”
“I will,” Jared promised.
“Great.” The conversation stuttered to a halt as Jensen couldn’t think of what else to say.
Jared saved him from further embarrassment by asking, “So where are you staying? I can ask around if anyone has any information about Mackenzie or if anyone saw her after the night at the bar and get back to you. Or maybe I could go look at her apartment with you--maybe I’ll see something you wouldn’t know to look for.”
“I haven’t checked in anywhere yet,” Jensen replied. “Normally I stay at Mac’s when I visit, but it’s probably going to be a crime scene so I’ll have to find a hotel.” He began digging through his pockets for his wallet and the list Williams gave him, coming up with just the piece of paper. “Shit!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find my wallet. Goddamn it!” Jensen cursed as he dug deeper with no luck. “It must have fallen in the cab.” Just his luck.
“Call the cab company and see if they found it.” Jared straightened up.
Jensen called the cab company and explained his situation. After giving them the details of his cab ride, he listened a moment, then huffed before saying “Okay“ and hanging up the phone. “That cab went off shift right after they dropped me here. If they found my wallet in the back seat, they’d have turned it in to the main office, which is closed until 8:30 a.m. tomorrow.” Jensen sighed, trying to think of an alternative plan. “I’ve given my spare key to the police to search Mac’s apartment, so I can’t stay there…”
“You can stay with me.” Jared said.
“What?” Jensen looked at him.
“I’ve got a spare room. You need a place to stay, at least for the night. I don’t bite.” Jared smiled slightly. “Stay with me until you get things sorted out tomorrow. It’s the least I can do.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jensen asked.
“Well…I feel guilty now that I left Mac alone in her apartment that night. If I’d have stayed, maybe I could have prevented something.” Jared looked stricken.
“Jared, you couldn’t have known something would happen.” Jensen replied. He thought for a moment. “Okay, I appreciate the offer of lodging and I’ll take you up on it. What time are you done here at the University?”
“Actually now. My last class was right before I came to drop these books off at Jeff’s office.” Jared stood up and took Jensen’s duffel. “Let’s head to my place and we can get you settled for the night. Maybe order a pizza for dinner?” Jared smiled, and Jensen was momentarily dazzled by unexpected dimples.
“Sounds great but I’m paying since you’re letting me stay with you.” Jensen waited as Jared locked up Jeff’s office. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
They took a cab to Jared’s house since Jensen and his luggage wouldn’t fit on the back of Jared’s Harley. It was a typical New Orleans shotgun house with bright red doors. Jared unlocked the front door and flipped on the lights.
“Nice place,” Jensen commented as he looked around. The main room was an open floor layout. The kitchen was at one end, with stainless steel appliances and striking black lacquer cabinets. The décor was eclectic--deep crimson painted walls in the main room and hallway, overstuffed comfortable-looking couches with framed band posters mixed with antique masques from past Mardi Gras celebrations, shelves of books and interesting knick knacks, and a small bar in one corner. The long hallway along one side of the house was decorated with bizarre art of skeletons, women and patterns.
“Interesting decorations.” Jensen remarked. “Kind of dark.”
Jared chuckled. “Most people think they are. But they are just representative of voodoo culture. You know - Marie Leveau, Baron Samedi, Papa Legba.”
Jensen took a closer look at one of the prints. It showed a man with a skeleton face, top hat and glass of rum. “Who’s this?”
“That’s Baron Samedi.” Jared came over to stand beside him. “He’s the Loa - the spirit - of the dead. Supposedly he digs your grave and welcomes you to the underworld when you die.”
“Supposedly?” Jensen cocked an eyebrow.
With a laugh, Jared said, “It all depends on what you believe.”
“And what do you believe?” Jensen challenged. For some reason he felt he needed to know.
“I just know that there are lots of folk here in New Orleans that believe in him and I respect that belief.” Jared’s reply was enigmatic and Jensen knew he wouldn’t get more than that out of him.
“Well, I like your place. It’s very eclectic, very vibrant.”
“Thanks,” Jared replied. “I’ve had fun sprucing it up and renovating. Lemme show you the guest room.”
They walked down the hallway, turned left and Jared showed him to a room decorated in shades of green and blue. The colors leant the room a soothing air, and the bed teased Jensen, reminding him how tired he was. “You can stay here. I’ll show you how to work the shower if you’re interested in washing off the travel funk.”
“Don’t you just turn on the water?” Jensen asked with a laugh.
Jared smiled. “Not this one,” he said as he pointed to the bathroom. Jensen poked his head into the room and whistled in amazement. “Good God, that looks like a space pod!”
The shower unit was amazing; lights, several shower heads, digital controls. Jared pointed out how to set the temperature, pressure, even the satellite radio. “I’m a bit of a hedonist,” he confessed. “My room has a big marble shower room and soaking tub. Kind of my guilty pleasure.”
“I definitely will take advantage of that.” Jensen laughed. “I understand the hedonist thing. I’m kind of that way too.”
“Let me give you a quick tour of the rest of the place.” Jared led him out of the guest room. “Here’s my room if you need anything.” He pointed out the door across from them. “Just knock if the door’s closed. Down here’s my den. It’s a disaster but I actually know where everything is.”
Jensen smiled. Another thing he could relate to. The den was done up in browns and golds, a nice sized desk with papers cluttered all over it and another bookcase with what looked to be textbooks and professional journals.
They stepped back into the long hallway. Jared pointed to a closed door. “That’s my storage room, furnace and the like. Down at the end of the hall is the laundry room and the back door to the yard. There’s a bit of a garden and a patio with a fire pit. I like to hang out there with friends and chill on the weekends. Kind of unwind, you know?””
“Sounds like fun,” Jensen commented. “My apartment building has a rooftop space that’s kind of the same idea.”
They moved back into the kitchen and Jared got them both beers from the fridge. Jensen was happy just to watch him move. Jared was lithe; reminiscent of a big cat, all stealthy and graceful. Jensen blushed a bit when Jared caught him looking, but the other man’s slight smirk told Jensen that his appreciation hadn’t gone unnoticed. Jensen reminded himself that Jared was still a possible suspect and he needed to keep a more professional demeanor.
“In the mood for a pizza?” Jared asked, pulling off a take-out order from under a refrigerator magnet. “My treat.”
“I’d hope so,” said Jensen with a smile. “Since I’m technically broke until tomorrow.”
“You can pay the next time.” Jared dialed the phone. “What do you want on it?”
Jensen felt warm at the implication that Jared thought there’d be a next time. “Uh...pepperoni and mushroom okay?”
“Works for me.” Jared placed the order. Hanging up, he said, “Twenty minutes. C’mon, let’s grab a couch 'til the food gets here.”
They sat down in the living area and Jensen took a swig of his beer. “So,” he began. “How long have you known Jeff?”
“Oh, I met him when I interviewed for the professor position--I think it was about three years ago.” Jared smiled. “He was larger than life and I knew I wanted to work under him after that first interview.”
The look in Jared’s eyes had Jensen wondering if working under him was solely in the classroom, but he didn’t know Jared well enough to comment. He thought it could be desire, but maybe Jared was just hungry for the pizza. The thought of it being more, however, twisted something in his gut. He didn’t want to think about Jared with Jeff. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Jensen mentally shook himself. What the hell was he doing, thinking about Jared having sex with other people and feeling jealous. He didn’t know Jared, didn’t even know if he was gay. Jensen had no claim over him. But you want to, a soft voice whispered in his head.
He shoved that thought down and locked the door on it, focusing on what Jared was saying.
“And so one thing led to another, and I wound up accepting the professor of folklore position.” The look on Jared’s face told Jensen he’d seen him zone out, but was going to be polite and not call him on it. Jensen flushed and ducked his head slightly.
“So…folklore…what does that entail?” He scrambled to follow Jared’s comments.
“Myths, legends, magic.” Jared drained his beer and tilted his empty bottle in question.
‘Sure.” Jensen handed Jared his empty. “So you believe in all that?”
“I think you asked me that already.” Jared tossed the bottles into a recycling bin and grabbed two more out of the fridge.
“I did, didn’t I.” Jensen grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“No, It’s okay.” Jared put the bottles down on the coffee table and went to one of the bookcases. “Belief is a funny thing. For some it’s everything. For others, it’s the horoscope column in the newspaper.” He pulled out a large book. “For example, what’s your birthday? Month, day, year.”
“March 1st, 1986.” Jensen said. “I’m a Pisces.”
He watched as Jared flipped through the book. “Okay, here. March 1, 1986. Because your Sun is in Pisces, you have the ability to identify with people from all walks of life. But because Venus is also in Pisces, you favor the underdog and lean towards wanting to save people. Which falls in line perfectly with being a police officer. But that’s tempered by Saturn being in Sagittarius which makes you want the simple straightforward story--no embellishments. So you keep an eye out for cons and lies.”
Jared flipped a few pages. “And that’s a big deal when it comes to things like religion or spirituality or ‘magic’.” He smirked at Jensen. “You find it hard to just believe another person’s truth without having proof of it yourself. So you wind up having your faith tested frequently because you always look for something stable.”
Jensen was speechless. That described him almost perfectly. “And you got all that out of that book?”
“Yup.” Jared handed him the book. Jensen quickly read over the pages and sure enough, it was exactly what Jared told him. “Now there’s always going to be things that don’t fit exactly, but overall it’s pretty close.”
Jared sat on the coffee table in front of Jensen. “You can choose to believe or not. Same goes for Voodoo, folklore, magic--all of it. If you think it works, it does, simply by your belief in it.” He was about to say more when the doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell. Let me get the food.”
They settled down and ate pizza, talking about everything but religion and magic. Jensen marveled at how easy it was to talk to Jared. It was like they had known each other forever. Jensen told Jared about being a cop, his accident and life as a private investigator. They argued about who was the best basketball team--the Mavericks or the Spurs--agreed that the Cowboys were America’s team, and neither had an opinion about the Detroit Red Wings.
Jensen caught himself in the middle of a yawn. “Man, I think I need to get to bed. Been a long day.” He stretched. “Plus can’t wait to try out that spaceship of a shower.”
Jared laughed as he picked up the pizza box and the bottles. “I know, right?”
“Do you need help cleaning up?” Jensen asked as he stood up.
“Nah, I’m good. You go ahead.” Jared threw the trash away. “Rest well. Tomorrow we’ll go get your wallet.”
“Works for me.” Jensen headed to the guest room. Once he got there, he pulled out a pair of sleep pants and an old soft t-shirt. Taking them into the bathroom, he dialed up the temperature and, on a whim, chose the classic rock station on the satellite radio. He stripped down and stepped under the water spray, letting out a moan at how good it felt. Turning towards the back of the shower, he let his head fall forward and closed his eyes, feeling the water pound the muscles on his tense neck. He stood there, relaxing and humming softly to ‘Night Moves’, thinking he had to get one of these showers for his apartment.
There was a sound like a door opening, but when Jensen stuck his head out of the shower, no one was there.
On to Chapter 3