ALASKA BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
ANCHORAGE, A.K.

“There is reality, and there is imagination. Do you know what the difference is? In reality, shit can be [i]touched[/i] and [i]seen[/i]. Imagination is for things that don’t exist, like the wage gap or Jesus or vampires – ”

“You need to shut up, or I’m not calling you ever again.”

“ – so when you tell me that I’m [i]making something up[/i], I want to be sure that you know the difference between imagination and reality.”

Costello family conversations were never-ending circles of bantering and bickering. As it were, only two members remained, and Avery wasn’t averse to removing her brother’s vocal cords so she could live the rest of her life in peace. Because arguments were their primary mode of showing affection, Sam was the only person alive she let give her shit.

“Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Come and visit me, but we both know you’re not going to sit in a place for eleven hours.” He laughed and made a weak attempt at insisting otherwise, but she cut him off again. “Listen, I have to go. I’m carrying coffees, and if I drop these, I’m going to – ”

“Coffees? Plural?”

“New partner. He’s a dick, but we kind of got into it yesterday and I’m trying to apologize. I don’t have time to explain.”

Avery balanced one coffee on top of the other and stuffed her phone into her coat. With her free hand, she flashed her badge in the lobby, but she was still stopped. It as only her first week with the Bureau. In addition to her badge, she needed another ID, and the guard sighed when he looked at her driver’s license. “Oh, right. You’re the Massachusetts girl. Just go.”

The ABI office inhabited the fourth and fifth floors of a non-descript government building that was, conveniently, near absolutely no modes of public transportation. Her car was still in Boston, so she’d walked the mile to work from her shoebox downtown apartment. As penance for hoofing it in the cold, her first sip of coffee was lukewarm at best. [i]Here, Duke. Sorry I called you an insufferable asshole yesterday. Enjoy your bathwater coffee. Sincerely, Costello.[/i] It hadn’t been her finest moment, but she blamed her temper on not being “settled in” yet. The new job, state, and apartment were full of eccentricities that required patience and grace – neither of which she had in abundance.

She barely got to her desk and took off her coat when the Captain McCann called for her. “Costello. Conference room. Now.”

Something was happening. The last week had been full of trainings and a slog of deskwork – a rookie welcoming, she supposed. For the most part, Anchorage wasn’t teeming with murders and mysteries, and she was beginning to regret upheaving her life to chase this job opportunity. A dark feeling in her stomach insisted that this particular summoning was bad. Maybe it had something to do with her attitude the day before.

The blinds were up in the conference room, and Avery saw McCann chatting with Duke. They had folders spread all over the table. Her bad feeling eased a bit, but as soon as she shouldered open the door, she heard the tail end of what McCann had been saying.

“ – ferry doesn’t run again until after the solstice. Small-town bullshit, you know. You’ll be there for a month and a half, at least.” He looked up when Avery entered the room. “You’re taking the rook. A little bonding trip. You two need it.”

Whatever McCann was saying, she stopped listening. Her eyes were glued to the glossy photos displayed on the table. They were poor quality, she noticed. Likely they were blown up from a smartphone. She set the coffees down and tucked her hair behind her ears before touching the edge of one of the pictures. The specific kind of carnage depicted she'd only seen as results of animal attacks.

"A little bonding," Avery murmured, still engrossed in the files. "Is that what you're calling this?"