Marked (16 page)

Meanwhile, another waiter showed up with a wine bottle, and I wasn't fast enough to stop him from pouring. Red wine, the thick stuff, the stuff that smelled like great meals and great people, the stuff I associated so strongly with Guild training staff dinners, senior folks only. Alcohol and telepathy didn't mix well unless everyone involved had great control; otherwise thoughts spread and rippled like a game of telephone, impossible to turn off. I wasn't allowed to have alcohol now either, but for an entirely different reason. A reason that had everything to do with Swartz and nothing to do with staff dinners.

A spark of startlement came over the Link and Cherabino, wineglass in hand, set it down. “I didn't think, I'm sorry.” She waved for the waiter. “Take these away and bring us tea, okay?”

The waiter did, but then the manager arrived in a snooty suit. “There is something wrong with the wine, madam?”

“We'll pay for it,” I said. “Just don't bring us any more.”

Cherabino smiled too brightly. “My new meds interact with the alcohol. I'm sorry. I forgot.”

Relief washed over me. I didn't have to be the one at fault.

When the manager left, Cherabino leaned forward. “Look, I'm sorry. I forget.”

“It's fine,” I said, but the shiny had worn off the evening. I was reminded again of everything I wasn't anymore. Everything I wouldn't be again.

We sat in silence for a long moment, me trying to pull it together. I shifted, and the paper list in my pocket crunched. I should pull that out and come up with something else to talk about. I'd prepared.

“You know what, this was a terrible idea,” Cherabino said.

Panic hit me. “What are you—?”

The food came, and she said, “Put it in a box, okay? We're going to take it with us. And bring the check.”

“It's my fault—I picked the place,” I said, too quickly. “I'll pay.”

The evening was over before I'd even gotten a chance to kiss her! Crap, I was acting like a fifteen-year-old. I sat on my disappointment and my panic, sat hard and put it in a box to be dealt with later. I could be gracious. I had known this was a bad idea, Swartz or no Swartz. “Let me take you back to the station,” I said carefully. I would handle this. I would. “You don't have to drive me home. I'll get the bus. It will be fine.”

She leaned forward again and said very quietly, “Don't be an idiot. We're going to have a picnic at the deli, and you're going to walk me back and kiss me. Like a proper first date.” She looked very small for a second. “That is, if you still want to.”

“Oh,” I said eloquently. “Yes, yes, of course.” The boxes arrived and the details of the check were taken care of—by me, the one spot of pride in the evening. Getting fired at least had one perk.

Walking out, though, Cherabino pulled her hair up in a clip. A sense of relief crashed over me like a tidal wave as we left the restaurant.

The deli, on the other hand, was run-down and the owner was cranky until we bought something from him too. This made me feel much better.

“I'll take potato chips,” I said.

“And two teas,” Cherabino said, amused.

The owner came back, grumbling, and overcharged us for disposable paper-stock forks. His demeanor settled me down, though. Made things go back to clear, to real. And when he cozied up behind the counter with a crossword, we were alone in the place. Potato chips went surprisingly well with escargot.

We ate, and I went back to my list. I got Cherabino to laugh, the forthright belly laugh I loved about her, the one that hit my brain like fizzy flecks of gold. I sat there and enjoyed it. Perhaps inevitably, as we were most of the way through the food, a uniformed officer poked his head in the door. “Oh, good, I found you,” he said. “The last homicide detective on duty is throwing up from food poisoning. Captain wants to know if Cherabino can come in and take care of a murder on Mimosa Drive.”

“Do they need me?” I asked.

“No,” the officer said. “Seems like a straightforward shooting. Witnesses got a clear look at the guy. But it needs processing.”

Cherabino glanced at me.

“Go on,” I said, doing my best to hide my disappointment. There wasn't any way I could go too, not now.

She looked back over at the officer and just stood up, no hug, no anything. I could feel her mind settle back into hard-shelled Cop Mode.

“See you,” she said, a generic sound. Nothing about doing this again.

I forced a smile. It had been inevitable, after all. “See you.”

I threw out the rest of the food as soon as she left, and went to find the bus stop. At least I'd get to tell Swartz he was wrong. This new leaf of his after his heart issues was clearly making him soft.

I had an impulse to go down to Fulton County to score a few hits of my drug, even got so far as to check the bus routes at the closest stop, but I knew I wouldn't go. Nothing had changed, after all, and if Swartz had pushed me, well, I'd let him. Nothing had changed, I told myself again. This was a crappy reason to fall off the wagon after nearly four years clean.

Didn't mean I was happy, though.

•   •   •

The next morning I was staring at my microwave, churning away to cook my last frozen-biscuit breakfast, feeling sorry for myself, when it hit. A sudden premonition crawled up my spine. Someone was about to charge the front door.

Before I could react, a loud
bang
from the apartment door four feet away. I stood up, took two steps. I was going to have to move if all these damn people could—

My adrenaline spiked. Three guards in Guild uniforms were in my living room.

“I negotiated for time—” I started.

Turner was at the back. “You need to be at the Guild. Now.”

Then I was on the floor, looking at their shoes again.
You can't do this,
I thought.
I work for the police. You can't just push me around like—

You don't work for the police anymore,
Turner said.
And you're overdue to check in with Rex.

And then the world went black.

CHAPTER 15

I woke up
in the empty interrogation room where I'd talked to Meyers's ex-wife and the woman who'd brought in the original madness report. I didn't see a camera, but I was certain one was there.

I blinked, hard. My head hurt, a pounding pain that settled in my teeth, and my vision wouldn't quite focus. “Damn it, I would have come here voluntarily,” I told the air. “There was no need to knock me out.”

I shook my head, trying to clear my vision, but it only made the headache worse. I poked around in my head, to assess the damage. Near as I could tell, no one had done anything but knock me out, which was both comforting and yet not boding well for the future.

“You know, I'm getting tired of being pushed around. Whoever's watching me might as well come in.”

So I waited. And waited.

After a while, I stood up and tried the door. Locked. I shook it. Not a flimsy lock, and by the looks of it something complicated. Even assuming I could find something in here to work as a lock pick, I wasn't sure I could manage this particular setup. Plus there was the camera I was sure was there, and the Guild didn't know I could pick locks yet. All in all, not worth it now.

I sat back down, grumbling. I'd wait a little while.

After what felt like seven years, there was a knock on the door.

“That's awfully polite,” I said. I'd been rethinking the lock concept again, so this was a welcome distraction.

“Can I come in?” Kara's voice came through.

You sent the guards?
I sent to her, along with a sense of shock and mounting betrayal.

A scraping sound, and then she opened the door. “No. No, nothing like that,” she said out loud. Stone was behind her.

Kara came in. I looked at her. She looked at me. There were deep, deep circles under her eyes, which were puffy like she'd been crying. Her hair was dull, pulled back in a messy ponytail I hadn't seen on her since exams. Finally she gestured for Stone to leave the room and close the door.

“Rex sent the guards. He's getting nervous, or so Turner said. She's giving me fifteen minutes, so I have to talk fast,” she said.

“How do I know you're telling the truth?” I asked her. “You're playing your family's game. You always have been.”

She flinched like I'd hit her. Then set her jaw. “Listen or don't listen, but like I said, we don't have much time. We found a device in the assistant's room, the one who killed himself. Stone found it. It's a mind manipulator, similar to the one you found connected to Tamika weeks ago. Someone was influencing them both.”

I blinked. She'd gotten my attention. “What are you talking about?”

“As near as we can tell, it's been used on both Meyers and his assistant. This is a device I was told would never, never be developed for use, even if there was another war. I was assured her plans were burned—and our family expert tells me this version is worse.”

“Is this a trap?” I asked her point-blank, and looked back up at the ceiling where I assumed the camera was. “You knock me out, you come back in here and start spouting conspiracy theories? You're trying to get me on tape as conspiring against the Guild so you can lock me up, is that what this is?”

Kara's Mindspace presence wavered again. I ignored the hurt feeling coming off her. She'd been hurt far too much while manipulating me. She could probably manufacture the feeling by now.

“Stone has disabled any listening devices,” Kara said. “You don't understand. These devices are a problem. Someone manipulated Uncle Meyers and Spirale into committing suicide and blamed it on madness. Someone started all of this hell on purpose!” She breathed hard. “The device matches the hole behind the painting you found in Uncle Meyers's apartment. We shut down the scene fast enough to keep them from removing the device from Spirale's place, apparently.”

She barreled on: “The killer used Guild official resources. Official ones. There are tracked parts, official parts with official serial numbers in this device. We've looked it up. There's enough parts out of the inventory for three devices. At least. Requisitioned by an official lab. Who knows what else they're building, what damage they'll cause? And someone official approved this crap!” She set her shoulders, took a minute to get back under control.

“You and your family will destroy the Guild,” I said, chilled.

“I didn't say that,” she said, quickly, but she didn't look at the camera. She truly didn't believe she was being recorded. And that fast—that fast—my whole attitude changed.

“I don't have a lot of time, Adam. I'll do whatever it takes to shut this down. The Council and Guild First and all the Tech in the world aren't going to stop me. And Hawk will back me up. I will do whatever I have to do—
whatever
I have to do to protect my family and what is right.” She was breathing hard now, and angry too.

“What do you want from me?” I asked. I was going to get caught in the wheels of this, wasn't I? We were well beyond a single murder investigation now. “Kara, you need to be sure it's official before you do anything rash. Experiments are one thing. Anybody could break into the vault—we saw that with Bradley. It doesn't mean—”

“These things should not exist!” she yelled at me. “Guild First is destroying everything! You can't build a bomb and then not use it. You'll be tempted every single day!”

A scraping sound, and then the door opened again. Stone stood there. “This isn't a good place to have a screaming match,” Stone said quietly. “They have to be on their way by now.” He looked at me. “You want process. You want a chance to prove innocence. It's the time. Help us bring Meyers's murderer to light. Help us do it the right way,” he added, looking at Kara with suspicion.

I didn't know how much he'd heard, but clearly they weren't easy allies.

I took a breath, forcibly damping down the anger and the pain until I could think. Then: “Show me the device. This thing you found that fits the tear I found in the room.”

Stone produced it. The thing was a cube with blinking lights, on the surface very much like the horrible thing that had made me suggestible the day Bellury died a few weeks ago. I wanted to throw it to the floor and jump on it until it was little pathetic pieces. I wanted to fillet it with knives and crush it with rollers and then let Gustolf burn the pieces. Twice.

That's about how I feel,
Stone told me.
Some things should never, never be used on our own people.

They should not exist,
Kara added, with heat.

On second, closer look, I saw the circular inset used to control the thing, a more highly engineered, more professionally produced piece. Small resonators, little square wires, covered the thing. Dane's research into mind-waves perverted.

I turned and deliberately said out loud, “Kara's right. Some things should not exist.”

Stone moved farther into the room. “The only way to shut this down is to find the people behind it. We've got resources but you've got more. And honestly, it has to be someone high up in the Council to pull this off. No one else has the power. I'm asking you to help us figure out who before this escalates so we can bring them to justice before things get worse.” He looked at Kara again.

“I trust you to tell me the truth,” Kara said reluctantly. “But we won't hold off forever.”

“I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren't I? Seems to be what you specialize in, Kara. Just so we're clear: this is a Koshna violation. This kind of technology is illegal in all fifty states for normals, and so illegal for the Guild that war will start over it if someone is caught out. This country needs another war like I need a lobotomy. I'm doing this for that reason, Kara.”

“I don't care why you do it. This stuff needs to end,” she said. “Find me Uncle Meyers's murderer and I will make it end.”

“I told you I would find the guy,” I said. “I told you that. Just promise me you're not going to start a war over the information.”

She was silent.

“We need to go,” Stone said.

How in hell was I going to solve this in time to keep things from blowing up? There was far, far more at stake now than just one guy's murder, no matter how good a guy he'd been.

There was the Guild as a whole, and more than one kind of war at stake. Who was I to stand in the way of all this?

But it had been my Guild once too. I had to try. I had to figure this out, and soon.

•   •   •

Turner and another three guard types brought me to a small room on the top level of the professional building. The clear glass windows had a fantastic view of the Buckhead business district, the towering buildings already starting to show their evening light schemes, office workers moving around, sitting at desks, working late.

At the end of the room staring out at the office buildings was one Thaddeus Rex, who even at rest had the carefully cultured successful-politician stance. I could almost see the photo in an editorial spread in the newspaper. Waiting in the opposite corner was head of Enforcement Tobias Nelson, who looked less regal but more dangerous.

“Adam Ward and Edgar Stone to see you,” Johanna said. “I assume you'd like someone to take notes on the pro- ceedings?”

Rex looked up. “Thank you, Johanna, but no. Not this time. You're welcome to go home.”

I thought I felt a flash of anger from her direction, but when I looked closer she seemed perfectly composed. “Mrs. Martinez will be back tomorrow and I won't have nearly the free time I do now. Are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you?”

“No, I believe that's all for now. Kind of you to fill in when my assistant fell ill. I'll make sure to note your helpfulness on your file.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Rex.”

“Close the door on your way out?”

That almost-there flash of anger again, something I could have sworn I'd seen. But maybe it was me. Maybe it was my distrust of her because of who she reminded me of. Either could easily result in seeing things, not to mention the suggestion of madness in the place.

She closed the door behind her, and I found myself alone in a room with major Guild power players—and Stone, who'd proven over and over again he had his own agenda.

“You wanted to see us?” Stone asked. “We are in the middle of an investigation and time is short.”

Rex turned and picked up a paper from the large desk in front of him.

Nelson waited, but while his presence in Mindspace was cold and hard, his body language was uncomfortable and impatient. He was watching Rex too much.

“You're here to rake me over the coals, aren't you?” I asked. “Either that or mind-wipe me. Why else would you send goons to my apartment to drag me here while I'm out doing what you asked me to do in the first place?” I lowered my shields, a risk, but I'd rather see what was coming, especially in this kind of room.

Rex's head came up then, and he looked like someone who had scraped something off his shoe. Tobias just looked angry.

“I've been told you have no viable suspects in the death of Del Meyers,” Rex said. “It's been several days since I recruited you, and I told you then I expect results. What results do you have?”

“None whatsoever,” Nelson said.

“I can't discuss ongoing investigations,” I said, because I didn't want to discuss anything with Nelson there, just as a matter of principle. “We are making progress and expect to have an answer for you soon.” I monitored Mindspace, even the slightest change. There was a mind, maybe, outside the door. Johanna listening in?

“What about you, Stone?”

Beside me, the man adjusted his stance. I could almost see the conflict of loyalty. I honestly didn't know if he was going to stay quiet.

I put up a light shield, enough to keep my thoughts from spilling. I knew that Kara wanted him—wanted me—to stay quiet. That she had some kind of epic family scheme going on to deal with the Tech. Though of course she hadn't told me what it was. In fact, she'd left at the first possible opportunity.

And I also knew that if you really wanted to know the truth about something, confronting someone with information could be the best way to go. It had worked for me time and time again in the interview rooms. And it was, just barely, possible to lie to a telepath. In fact, if one did it out loud, and one was used to lying out loud, it might be very possible indeed.

And if they were really, truly going to lock me up or mind-wipe me anyway, I might as well go all in.

I dropped the shield again and let my decision crystallize where they could see it. Then I read Mindspace ever so carefully, down to the slightest wave. Down to the slightest change of a mind in front of me.

“We've found a Tech device that influences mind-waves left in both apartments,” I said freely, letting my words be a skipping stone along a pond, always moving. “We have evidence to show that you, Rex, planted them there.”

Rex did a double take. Then he turned to Nelson. “What in the hell have you done! I gave you latitude with that stuff—but it was never to be used against the Guild!”

“But—I didn't—” Nelson sputtered.

Bingo. I used the moment of distraction to seep into Nelson's mind.

And there it was: Nelson had been receiving security devices from Research in exchange for getting them certain parts. Certain illegal Tech parts obtained from . . . I saw a shadowy face, and an exchange.

Tobias had met with Fiske. Personally. Had been meeting with him for years.

Stone's mind was suddenly right there with me, as he'd grabbed my arm or some such. I shared what I knew. He, in shock, moved away.

Tobias's attention went to us then, and he moved all of his defenses against me—

Too slow. Too distracted.