The Law of Averages

Book 2: Chapter 55: Bueller?

Burl Meyers lived in an unassuming little apartment complex in Northwest Austin, inside a suburban community unique to Dimension A named Richardsville. It was a thoroughly middle-class affair, with prices most likely ranging just a bit higher than someone in Burl's position ought to pay. But it lay beside a safe, calm neighborhood that had gone relatively untouched by the repeated disasters that had struck Austin in these past months.

Dan had accompanied Gregoir to the location, pulled from employee records that Waylon's manager had willingly turned over. The man had given little thought to his security guard quitting; the manager had considered doing the same and saw the action as perfectly rational. That being said, the resignation had been done via email, and the manager hadn't spoken to his former employee since. It had only been a part-time gig, so no follow-up had been required by anyone involved.

Mr. Meyers was a loner, with no close family nor friends. His emergency contact information came back to a disconnected phone number, likely made up on the spot out of privacy or shame. His building superintendent, in a brief phone interview, had admitted that he hadn't spoken to the man in over a week. He also reported that Burl's car was not in its usual spot, but he couldn't say for how long that had been the case.

There was little reason to believe that Andros Bartholomew was actually living in this apartment complex. In fact, there was still no hard evidence linking Bartholomew to Burl Meyers at all. Waylon had yet to recover from whatever had been done to him, assuming that he would recover at all, and the tampered footage that Dan had obtained was being poked at by the APD's Geek Squad.

The video from the Pearson was of much greater import, clearly showing Bartholomew's features and his general direction, but it hadn't been enough to obtain a warrant to search Burl Meyer's apartment. The complex's manager had proven resistant to even Gregoir's charm, flatly refusing to provide the keys to his tenant's room. It was the rare person who could outright deny a police officer; it was just Dan's luck that they'd found such a person in charge of a tiny clump of rented buildings.

Dan was pretty sure the guy just got off on his own authority.

So Dan and Gregoir were down to politely knocking on Burl's door and hoping for the best. Watching Gregoir walk, hunched down and shoulders drawn in tight, through the apartment's narrow corridor was almost worth the trip to Dan. The big man carefully maneuvered his bulk sideways, before tapping his knuckles against the apartment door. Gregoir's fist was the size of a dinner plate, and the gentle knock nearly put a hole in the cheap fiberwood.

They both waited for a minute for an answer, with Dan impatiently slipping his veil inside the room. His threads quickly spread across the floor, searching for life. They swept across cheap carpet and tile, up and through the furniture, all along the walls: Nothing. The apartment was empty in more ways than one. The fridge and freezer were both barren. The microwave had been hollowed out, its electronic guts missing completely. No electronics anywhere, so far as Dan could sense. Certainly nothing plugged in, and nothing that he could recognize. He couldn't even find a television.

How very suspicious. Dan needed to get Gregoir inside this room. The officer's more experienced eye would be of tremendous use. The issue was a legal one. They'd been denied entry by the landlord, and lacked a warrant. Dan wasn't sure if he could tell Gregoir anything specific about the room quite yet. He certainly wasn't going to admit it was empty until he had a better understanding of the rules for entry.

"So am I allowed to tell you what's inside?" Dan asked, trying to find where the line lay in this situation.

Gregoir frowned. "I am not allowed to ask. Officers are not supposed to use extrasensory upgrades, theirs or others, to see into private property without a warrant."

There was quite a bit of room to maneuver there, legally speaking. Dan considered his options.

"Under what circumstances could you enter without a warrant?" Dan asked.

"I would need reasonable suspicion that a crime is about to be committed, or that a life is in danger," Gregoir replied. "It's unlikely that I'll be presented with either of those in the next few minutes."

Dan scratched at his chin. "What if the door is unlocked?"

"Even if that were the case, which it isn't," Gregoir then tried the knob, and it jiggled against the lock, "I'd still need cause to enter. If there's not a crime being committed, or if nobody within is in immediate danger, then Mr. Meyers still has a right to privacy."

This whole legal search thing was sure a pain in the ass. That was probably a good thing, Dan thought wryly, but tremendously inconvenient in this moment. Gregoir was only willing to bend the rules so far.

"What constitutes danger?" Dan asked.

Gregoir shrugged guilelessly. "That is left to an officer's judgement. It could be anything from hearing a cry for help, or a struggle, or simply hearing someone fall down."

Dan's veil snagged a small pedestal resting on a bookshelf and dragged it into his veil. The stone statue it was supporting dropped down, clunking hard against the cheap shelf, which immediately gave way. The crashing noise of furniture breaking echoed out through the thin walls of the apartment.

Dan stared pointedly at Gregoir.

The big officer blinked in surprise, confusion, then understanding. He turned to the door in a smooth motion and shouted, "Wellness check!" before shouldering it open. The cheap fiberboard splintered and broke as Gregoir charged inside. Dan followed at a more sedate pace, regarding the door with satisfaction. He could have teleported inside and unlocked it, but this was far more enjoyable, and oddly enough, more legal.

Dan would leave the pedestal in t-space. Let people think the bookshelf had broken from being a cheap piece of crap. There was no evidence to the contrary, and Gregoir wasn't about to start asking questions to which he didn't want an answer.

Gregoir's shout of, "Clear!" came from within, and Dan wandered deeper inside. He glanced around the room, taking in the old furniture and barren surroundings. There wasn't much to see. The bookshelf that Dan had destroyed was just about the only decoration left in the room. There was an empty coffee table in front of a worn couch. Both were seated in front of a TV stand, but no television.

The room was dark, and it took several flicks of a nearby light switch for Dan to realize both that the bulbs were all missing, and the switch's internals were gone. The ceiling held an empty mounting socket where a fan might have once hung, but no wiring. A quick sweep of the walls confirmed that there was no wiring present at all. It was all gone.

Dan knelt down beside the nearest wall socket and popped off the plastic cover. He stuck his finger through the gaping hole, brushing sheetrock and wooden supports. Gregoir entered from the bedroom, wearing a distinct frown. He approached Dan, kneeling down beside the empty socket.

"The apartment has been scavenged," he stated. "Whoever was here picked it clean of anything useful. I found nothing of value at all. Everything has been removed, even miscellaneous electronic devices."

"Why take the electronics?" Dan asked.

"Materials," Gregoir answered. "Whoever did this needed materials, and can't afford to drop by a hardware store."

"Gee, I wonder if there's a mad scientist we know of who might be interested in something like that."

Gregoir grimaced.

"So, now what?" Dan asked. He gestured to the empty apartment. "Meyers isn't here. Nor is Bartholomew. What's the next step?"

"Interview the neighbors," Gregoir stated with certainty. That, at least, would be simple. By now, said neighbors had begun poking their heads out to investigate the noise.

"Between the state of the apartment and young Waylon's blood test results, I believe we have enough evidence to support your theory." Gregoir's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "This man was taken. Whether it was a planned act, or a crime of convenience, we will endeavor to find him."

Dan shook his head in disappointment. "That's pretty much what the APD has been doing this entire time. You've had a guy missing for over a week, and you still can't find him. Why is this any better?"

Gregoir clapped Dan on the shoulder. "Because now we have the advantage. Lieutenant Banks was taken from his home. It was planned enemy action, and they prepared well for our efforts to find him. I believe this man was taken on a whim, almost completely at random."

Gregoir smiled viciously. "Andros Bartholomew should have no idea we are trying to find this man. He has no reason to suspect that you found the Pearson footage, nor the footage from the electronics store. If Burl Meyers hadn't proven to be a loner, with no family or friends to speak of, I have no doubt that he would have been either killed or ignored, rather than taken. There was less planning involved in this abduction, and no reason to take specific precautions. We will find this victim, because whoever took him should have no idea we are even looking for him."