Page 136 of Oddly Fine

They were ushered inside without any further fanfare.

Beckett’s brother had obviously not been expecting company. He was sprawled out on the couch, head tilted against the arm rest, unshaven, his hair a complete mess. He was wearing a stretched out black t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants that couldn’t hide the fact that he’d lost weight since last their last visit. He looked up in surprise as they entered the room, tripping over his own feet to get to them. And then—well, he suddenly noticed Matthew standing behind Hayes.

Part of Hayes had been skeptical all along about their whole love story. They were such self-involved men that it had been difficult to picture them together. Suddenly, it wasn’t so hard anymore.

“Matthew—” Franklin said, before crossing the room in three long strides. He wrapped his arms completely around Matthew. Although several inches shorter than the mob prince, Franklin somehow managed to look bigger than Matthew as he hugged him tightly.

Hayes eased closer to Beckett, closely observing his boyfriend’s reaction for clues of how he felt about this Hallmark moment. But Beckett’s expression was unreadable.

“Told you I’d come for you,” Matthew said as he wrapped his arms around his lover’s waist. They pulled back briefly, staring into each other’s eyes before diving into a passionate, desperate kiss.

Beckett lost whatever sense of decorum he might have had, making a series of increasingly disgusting retching sounds. The reunited lovers ignored him as they finally separated.

“You smell like Doritos,” Matthew remarked, scrunching his nose.

“Yes, well—” Franklin replied with a quick shrug, looking sheepish.

Hayes hated to admit he liked watching Franklin squirm with embarrassment.

“Is it done? Is your uncle behind bars?” he asked, suddenly realising what their presence might mean. Matthew shook his head.

“Not yet, but—” he nodded towards Hayes. “Agent Monroe might be onto something.”

Franklin turned to him with eager hopefulness.

“Well—maybe,” Hayes responded and gave them a jerky nod. He nodded towards the couch in silent invitation for them to take a seat.

“Okay, here’s my insane theory,” Hayes prefaced. He took a second to organise his thoughts before jumping in with both feet. “Adeline discovered proof that Mario purchased the wellness center where Franklin worked.”

“He did?” Franklin asked, clearly shocked. He turned to Matthew, who nodded in agreement. “Who’s Adeline?”

“Think Bond girl—but make her tech savvy, and about 60 years old,” Beckett interjected.

Matthew nodded again.

Franklin did not look enlightened.

Hayes resumed his story. “We figured he’d bought it for his own cosmetic surgery needs—but it seemed like a lot of money to spend just for easy access to a surgical suite, even for him. Here’s the thing—I don’t know much about cosmetic surgery, but I know one of the growing trends in rejuvenation treatments is to receive stem cell treatments. Now, I didn’t read the center’s whole fucking brochure, but from what I read, it’s equipped for all sorts of things. Botox injections, plastic surgery—would it be that much of a leap to assume they could be equipped to perform stem cells injections as well?” Hayes asked Franklin.

“Well—it isn’t really my area, but yeah, I suppose. I’d have to read up on it, but the center isn’t exactly short of funds or resources. It’s very possible they’ve already put something in place.”

“Okay—hear me out. Matthew, when you had your family meeting, your uncle mentioned something to your sister about this new procedure he’d undergone. She was talking about Botox, and he told her Botox was old news. I remember reading about stem cell treatments in a medical journal at my doctor’s office recently, and that was the tag line. See the idea behind those treatments is generally that they take your own stem cells and reinject them. But new studies are suggesting that using younger stem cells would help to slow aging. Now, if I’m an eccentric millionaire who’s afraid of aging and growing increasingly desperate to find a solution—I’m going to look into stem cells. Specifically, I’m going to look into acquiring the stem cells of young, healthy people.”

“Really?” Matthew asked skeptically.

“Why not? The pursuit of anti-aging methods is as old as time, and you said yourself that Mario had become desperate enough to look into the occult. Think about it. The obsession with virginity and youth goes back thousands of years. Some nobles were said to sacrifice young women and bathe in their blood so they could retain their youth. Witches were said to steal the souls of children to make themselves look young again. They’re myths, sure—but all the stories come from somewhere,” he said, parroting Matthew’s words.

“So—you’re suggesting the 21st century equivalent to vampires is—stem cell injections?” Beckett asked, wondering if he was keeping up as well as he thought he was.

“Correct.”

“Right, but—any procedure that involves removing body tissues, organs, or fluids from one person to treat another is highly restricted. Stem cell transplants using your own cells is one thing, but removing them from younger people to inject into other people would be unethical. The medical boards would have a field day with that one,” Franklin stated with a grimace.

“Exactly! Which is where the human trafficking comes in. We were operating on the assumption that your uncle’s deal with the Serbians was to make money. Import their victims in one place and then re-sell them somewhere else. But what if it’s not about money at all. What if he imports them to use them. Like—cows you’d milk!”

“Which would explain why he purchased the center,” Matthew said as he reached the same conclusion. “He’d need somewhere to do the procedures, and renting a medical suite would be too risky. But if he owns the building, he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and keep everything under wraps.”

“But he’s not shipping people with the drugs,” Matthew said, and it was the first time he’d openly acknowledged what his family was involved in. Apparently, the family had gone too far this time, and he could no longer sit back and allow this to go on.