Memory Zero (11 page)

Cursing softly, she quickly stepped inside and shut the door. “Lights dim,” she hissed. Instantly, the glare became a muted glow. She glanced around. Though she’d come down here only when absolutely necessary, that was still often enough to know the general layout of the place. Mark Righter, the medical examiner, had a desk in the far corner. More than likely he’d be handling Jack’s examination himself.

She rifled through the papers and files sitting on his desk, but Jack’s file wasn’t among them. Surely they couldn’t have finished the autopsy already? Frowning, she swung around and headed for the morgue. She didn’t have time to do a proper search for the file. Finley would notice she was missing soon. Before the alarm was raised, she had to get in and have a look at Jack—because she had a feeling Assistant Director Gabriel Stern would be canny enough to guess exactly where she’d gone.

The sickly strong scent of antiseptic punched her senses the moment she entered the room. Behind it, elusive and yet just as powerful, was the smell of death. She shuddered and quietly closed the door. The morgue was long and silent. Shadows crowded the far corners, despite the dim glow of the lights. Her gaze went to where the dead lay waiting, and after a moment’s hesitation, she walked across the room. The freezer units were categorized alphabetically. Jack’s was about halfway along the wall. She grabbed the handle, then stopped and took several deep breaths to calm her suddenly churning stomach.

She could do this. She
had
to do this, if she wanted to start finding answers.

Gripping the handle tightly, she pulled the drawer
open. Jack’s body, cold and white, slid out to greet her. Her gaze went to what was left of his head, and her stomach rolled in revulsion. She let go of the drawer and backed away, desperately trying to control the urge to be sick. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen a dead body before, for Christ’s sake.

But this
was
the first time she’d seen anyone she’d cared about down here.

And absolutely the very first time that person was down here because she’d shot him.

For a reason
, she reminded herself severely. She’d had no other choice, of that she was certain—even if she was certain of nothing else. And if she wanted to know why Jack had forced that choice, then she had better control her stomach and get back to examining the body.

Before AD Stern and his cronies came and dragged her away.

Taking another deep breath, she walked up to the drawer. And saw that death had frozen a look of disbelief on what remained of Jack’s face.

Oh God … no
.

She staggered away and threw up in the nearest trash can.

“You okay?” The question rose out of the semidarkness, the voice familiar and filled with concern.

She groaned. Just what she needed. Gabriel had found her before she’d had a chance to overcome her nerves and look at Jack.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, digging into her pocket to grab a handkerchief and wipe her mouth.

“There’s a water fountain in the outer office. Would you like a drink?”

That had her looking up. He’d leave the room, leave her with the body? That went against every rule in the book … but then, Gabriel Stern didn’t seem to care much about the rules. Not when ignoring them suited him better. “Yes. Thank you.”

He nodded and turned around. She watched him walk back through the door, and then she pushed away from the desk and walked back over to Jack.

Trying to ignore the look on his face, trying to ignore her rebellious stomach, she studied the rest of his body. A naked Jack was nothing new to her. Men and women shared the same change rooms up in State, and once she’d recovered from the initial shock, she’d become as indifferent to it as everyone else.

Yet she could never remember Jack being
this
white. He’d always prided himself on his tan—and he’d never cared about how out of fashion it was deemed these days. Surely death hadn’t stolen
all
his color.

Gabriel came back through the door and crossed over to her. He handed her a cup and studied the naked form in front of them.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Sipping the water, she let her gaze slide down Jack’s body. His left hand rested on the flat of his stomach. His wedding ring was missing, which in itself was not unusual, given that the morgue staff would have secured any possessions before they placed him in the drawer. What
was
unusual was the fact that his finger showed no telltale mark of ever having worn a ring.

Her gaze moved down, and she frowned. Where the hell was the knife scar? He’d received the wound in their first year as partners and had worn it as a badge
of valor ever since, refusing to have skin grafts. It made no sense for it to be gone now.

But before she could open her mouth to mention it, the lights in the outer office went off. And that wouldn’t have happened unless someone had ordered it. But why would someone from State, or even the SIU, have done such a thing when it was obvious someone was in the morgue?

Gabriel touched her arm in warning and pointed to the examination tables on the far side of the room. She nodded, slid Jack’s drawer back home and followed him. The morgue lights went out as she hunkered down beside Gabriel. Someone moved in the outer office, sliding drawers open and closed. Searching for what?

Minutes dragged by. She shifted, wondering why Gabriel didn’t do something. Whoever was in that office had to be up to no good if he’d turned the lights off, so why not call in the police? Hell, they were squatting in a building filled with them.

She shifted her weight again, then stopped as the morgue door eased open. Heat prickled across her skin, and once again her senses seemed to explode outward. The two men entering the room were vampires … and yet not.

The sensation slithered away. She shuddered, not understanding what was happening, not even understanding the information the weird attack had given her.

Gabriel’s hand touched her knee. Warmth and strength seemed to flow from it, fighting the chill suddenly encasing her body. She glanced up and saw the concern in his eyes. Fear suddenly slammed into her
heart. She could see his eyes, see
him
, as clearly as if it were light, not pitch black.
What the hell is happening to me?
She had a sudden feeling that Finley’s tests, and Gabriel himself, might be able to provide an answer, but now was not the time to ask.

Biting her lip, she turned her gaze back to the two men entering the room. Dressed in black, they almost merged into the darkness. One of them carried something over his right shoulder—a sack of some kind. Both of them stopped just inside the doorway, their gazes scanning the darkened room. If they were vampires, how could they not see her and Gabriel? Or hear the beats of their hearts? How could these men not know they were here?

Because they obviously didn’t. They moved as one, walking silently across the room to Jack’s drawer. For some reason, she wasn’t entirely surprised. The weirdness had started with Jack. Somehow, he was the key to it all.

Gabriel squeezed her knee lightly and motioned to the left, holding up three fingers. She nodded. Placing her cup on the floor, she silently counted to three, rose and scooted around the edge of the room, coming on the two men from the left.

They were so intent on trying to bag Jack’s body that neither man became aware of their assailants until it was far too late.

“Police,” she said softly, grabbing the arm of one of the strangers and twisting it behind his back. “Don’t move.”

He was obviously hard of hearing, because he not only moved, but came out swinging. She ducked under his blow, and then hit him. Not exactly ethical, but
hey, he was possibly a vampire, and she was already suspended.

He went down like a sack of potatoes. She frowned and glanced at her clenched fist. She hadn’t hit him
that
hard. She looked across to Gabriel. He had the second intruder by the neck and was holding him slightly above the ground.

It took a lot of strength to do something like that—more strength than most humans possessed. But then, Gabriel Stern worked for the SIU. They weren’t big on employing normal humans.

“Remind me never to tackle you when you’re angry,” he said, his expression grim. But as he met her gaze, a slight hint of amusement touched his eyes.

This, coming from a man who appeared intent on choking his suspect to death? “Ah … hadn’t you better loosen your grip at little? Don’t want to kill him before he can answer a question or two.”

He glanced at the felon for a moment and shook him a little. The man made an odd sort of gagging sound and Gabriel smiled grimly. “He can breathe,” he said. “He’s just a little blue around the edges. Nothing to worry about with his type.”

“What do you mean by ‘his type’? Are they vampires?”

“No. Thralls.”

He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and made a call for backup. Given no chance to ask what a thrall was, she glanced down at the man near her feet and toed him lightly. Still out cold. She obviously packed quite a punch. He hadn’t even twitched.

“I guess I’ve landed myself in a shitload more trouble,” she said, once Gabriel had hung up.

He met her gaze, his eyes intense, thoughtful. Once again she was left with the distinct impression that Assistant Director Stern was a man with his own agenda.

“Maybe,” he said after a moment. His gaze went back to the felon. Not releasing his grip in any way, he asked, “You going to talk?”

The man gurgled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He let the felon’s toes touch the floor. “I’m about to release my grip a little. Twitch and you’re dead, understand?”

Jack had nothing on Gabriel Stern when it came to menace, that was for sure. Though he’d kept his tone light, the threat hung like a noose in the air. She had no doubt that he meant it. Obviously, neither did the felon.

“Who sent you?”

The felon took several deep breaths, and then croaked, “Sethanon.”

The name meant nothing to her, but it was one Gabriel obviously recognized. His expression was grim as he asked, “Why?”

“To collect Kazdan’s body.”

Gabriel’s expression was somewhat skeptical, and she wondered why.

“Why do you want Jack’s body?” she asked, keeping her voice soft. The man was in a bad enough state as it was. If they threatened him too much more, he might just faint.

“I don’t know.”

Gabriel tightened his grip again. The felon flapped his arms in agitation, a frantic look of fear twisting his face. “I’m telling you, I don’t know! I’m just a runner. I do what I’m told. They don’t tell me nothin’!”

“Really?” Gabriel’s tone implied disbelief, even though the fear in the felon’s eyes suggested he
was
telling the truth. “Where were you supposed to take the body?”

“To a warehouse in Carlton.”

“Address?”

“Five-ten Rathdown Street.”

Footsteps sounded in the outer room, and the lights once again came on. Help had arrived. She half expected Gabriel to release his grip on the felon, but again, he went against the norm, tightening it instead.

“Time?” he continued flatly.

The morgue door opened, and five gray-suited men filed in, weapons at the ready. On seeing them, they holstered their guns and approached.

The felon gagged a little, struggling to breathe. “Ten … ten-thirty.”

“Thank you.” Releasing his grip, Gabriel pushed him into the arms of the nearest gray suit. “Detain these two for further questioning.”

Two other gray suits approached the unconscious man at her feet and unceremoniously dragged him away. Obviously, the SIU didn’t give a hoot about prisoner rights. Jack would have been right at home with these boys.

Her gaze darted back to Jack’s body and she bit her lip. This wasn’t Jack; she was sure of that much. A damn good imitation maybe, but not the real thing. Which begged the question, where was the real Jack? Was he alive, as her hairy visitor had said? And if this
wasn’t
Jack, then who the hell was it?

Gabriel walked around the drawer and touched her arm, his fingers like fire, sending heat past the thickness
of her sweater, down into her chilled skin—and causing heat of an entirely
different
kind to flit across her senses. She frowned, and did her best to ignore the sensation.

“Langston, I want you and Reynolds to stay here and guard this body until I arrange for its transfer down to the SIU vaults. No one is to touch it, not even State.”

Sam glanced at him in surprise. His expression was grim.

“Come on,” he said, and tightened his grip on her arm, hauling her from the room.

“You came here to check whether this was really Jack, didn’t you?” he said, once they were clear of the room.

She nodded. There was no point in denying the obvious.

“And?”

“It’s not.” She hesitated. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” The elevator opened. He swiped his card and punched the button for sub-level twenty-eight. “What makes
you
so certain it’s not?”

“His lack of tan, a missing scar.” She hesitated. “The fact that he has no mark or indentation on his finger from his wedding ring.”

Indeed, that was the most telling. Jack’s love for Suzy was almost as obsessive as Suzy’s was for him. In the three years since his marriage, she’d never seen him take the ring off. Even if he’d lost it during the ten days he’d gone missing, there would have been a fading band of white on his finger.

She blinked suddenly.
Suzy
. Why had Suzy told the
captain that she was having an affair with Jack? Suzy of all people would have been aware of the truth. She knew how little they saw of each other after hours, if only because Jack had spent all his spare time with
her
.

Unless, of course, she was involved in Jack’s schemes—whatever those schemes might be. Maybe the first person she should talk to when she got out of here was Suzy Kazdan.

“So who
is
lying in the morgue? Have you run a background check on him yet?”