Isaac stared at him, then shook his head."Never."
Anger ignited."What's that supposed to mean?It's his fucking job."
"No, it's not.He helps us if and when he feels like it.It's not his job to solve our cases, it's ours.And I can't believe you're willing to sacrifice your best friend's brother."
"He'll be fine."
Isaac shook his head, and something close to shame curled in Nikolai's gut."He will, right?"
"I hope so."
"What do you mean, you hope so?You've worked with him before, you know how he works."
The sigh was annoyed."All I know is there have been cases when he's ended up unconscious in the hospital.Not any of mine, thank God, but you realize he takes a risk every time he touches something, right?"
Nikolai nodded.He still wasn't sure Frode was a psychic, though if he wasn't, he'd put on one hell of a performance.The shaking, the sweating, the bitten cheek, and the vomiting.Not to mention Hjalmar's reaction.
* * * *
Frode wasn't clear on how they made it home, but when Hjalmar helped him to the couch, he groaned, thankful for being there.
"How bad is it?"
"I've had worse."He had.Several times.He wished he could melt into the cushions and disappear for a few days, sleep until the throbbing pain in his head was gone, until his hands stopped shaking, and his legs could carry his weight without problem, but it wasn't too bad.
"You need food."
He did, but he was still nauseated.Patting his pockets, he brought out the red Sun-Maid box and ate some raisins.The sweet taste flooded his mouth, and he sighed."There are some leftovers in the fridge."
Hjalmar nodded and headed to the kitchen.He was not happy, and Frode almost wished he could be there when he'd have it out with Nikolai.Though maybe he'd simmer down before it came to blows.Hjalmar had always made excuses for Nikolai.He was only joking, he was only saying shit because of his stupid-ass family, he doesn't mean anything by it, he's a good friend once you get to know him, and so on.
Frode didn't believe this would be the end of their friendship.Not at all.Hjalmar was worried now, but once Frode was back to his normal self, this whole thing would be forgotten.
His phone rang, and he groaned.He'd said Elmore could call him, but he hadn't more than made it back to the house.
"Yes?"He sighed the word into the phone.
"Eh...Mr.Bakke?"
Fuck, not Elmore."Yes, sorry."
"Carl Yeager here.Detective Nesterova called and said we had a composite drawing to get to."
Frode wanted to snarl."Did he?"
Hjalmar appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a thunderous expression on his face.
"I'm no good today, Mr.Yeager.Are you available tomorrow?"
"Yes, of course.I...eh..."It sounded as if he was moving papers around."I have a meeting at ten, but my afternoon is free."
Frode liked Yeager.He was a soft-spoken man, who always managed to ask the right questions.When Frode got stuck trying to describe the appearance of the face forever trapped in his mind, Yeager managed to get him to focus on one detail at the time, little by little building up to a life-like image.
"I can do the afternoon."He hoped his headache would be long gone by then.
"Good.I'll book out a few hours.Shall we start at one?"
"Sounds perfect."
