“He’s it for you,” he observes. “Durand.”
Finn drops his head forward. “This week well proves it, I figure.”
The soft tissue of Vince’s chest pulls gently apart when he takes in the simple happiness resting on the edges of Finn’s expression, run otherwise ragged by events beyond their control. “I’m glad,” he says, willing the light there to fill the spaces inside him left hopelessly shaded.
The pathologist strides through the doors of the morgue and greets Durand with a kiss, pressing the wool coat into his chest as he does. They murmur something to each other Vince tries not to pay attention to, instead pacing over to the long workbench where he and Casper had sat mere days ago and worked through one of the last pieces of their macabre puzzle.
Casper greets him with a sheepish nod, ha
