Evolutionary Romance- The Complete Trilogy

by Sarah Biglow

  “They’ll never know we were there,” Tina replied, her confidence returning.

  “Tina, we don’t break the law. We help people.”

  “And now it’s time to help ourselves. You two go in and get the blueprints and we’ll keep watch.” She eyed Marisol, “it’ll give us more time to bond. Besides, this wouldn’t be your first felony.”

  I didn’t like Tina taking a jab at Marisol’s past. “Or, we wait until your mother comes up here and we ask her to explain what is going on,” Marisol replied.

  “I like my plan better. And in case you missed it, I run things around here.”

  Her jab was directed at me. “You don’t have to be in charge, Tina. And, I am not a fan of breaking and entering. How about we try to talk to your mom and if nothing pans out, we can try to get the blueprints.”

  “Fine,” she huffed. “But I’m telling you now, it’s not going to work.”

  Discussion over. Declan led the way back to the circulation area. Marisol fell into step beside me. “Does the Town Hall have birth records?”

  Had she been able to read my guilt about digging into Tina’s past? “Uh, maybe. Why?”

  “It’s probably nothing but, if I’m right and Lena is Tina’s mother, maybe the initials are her father. If we could see her birth certificate, we’d know.”

  I didn’t want to admit I’d already turned over that stone. The answer was burning a hole in the bottom of my bag. Still, Tina’s world could be turned on its head in a matter of hours. She didn’t need the stress of finding out her father was involved, too. “If we’re right about her mom, Tina’s going to have a lot to deal with. I don’t think we should push her.”

  Marisol nodded and pursed her lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I was pushing some of my own feelings onto her. If I had a chance to find out my mother was still around, I would jump at the chance.”

  “Come on, let’s make sure Tina doesn’t botch this for the sake of some light breaking and entering,” I said, and we picked up the pace.

  We rounded the stacks to find Tina and Declan whispering conspiratorially by the circulation desk. Henry was busy reading something and ignoring them. Though, I thought I caught him glancing at Declan once or twice. I didn’t bother invading their minds because I could tell from their body language, they were still unsure of whether to include Marisol.

  “Should we wait in your mom’s office or something?” I suggested.

  On cue, Mrs. Boudreau appeared from the far end of the library near the always ominous Restricted sign. It reminded me of Harry Potter, and not in a good way. Henry set his reading materials down and made eye contact with her.

  “Christina, what is it? I only have a few minutes before my next meeting.” Her mother barely glanced up from the phone in her hand.

  “We needed to talk to you,” Tina’s voice shook.

  Did Henry give her a heads up? I zeroed in on her mother, trying to get into her mind and see if I could be a human lie detector for Tina.

  “If it’s about the hours, you know I don’t deal with scheduling.”

  “It’s not.” Tina turned and waved at Marisol, miming pulling something from a bag.

  Marisol retrieved the book and handed it over. Tina’s hands were steadier than I’d expected as she opened the front page and held it out for her mother to see.

  “This is you, isn’t it?”

  I closed my eyes and listened, praying I’d catch some snippet of acknowledgement. Static crackled in my head instead, and my eyes watered.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Tina took two big steps forward until there was barely any space between her and her mother. “Yes, you do. This is you. You’re Lena. Admit it. What did you do to me?”

  Her mother looked from the book to Tina’s face and said, “I don’t know what this is about. I don’t have time for your hysteria.”

  Declan, Marisol, and I clearly weren’t worth addressing because she strode off back the way she’d come. Removing my glasses, I rubbed at my eyes and waited for the blurriness and the dull ache directly behind the bridge of my nose to pass. When my vision cleared, I looked at Henry who had quickly turned his attention back to his reading.

  “She’s lying,” Tina muttered.

  “I couldn’t get anything from her.’

  “So, I guess this means we’re committing a few felonies,” Declan said and cracked his knuckles.

  “This is a bad idea,” I voiced again as we made our way to the back of Town Hall. On the way over, it had become clear the girls had no intention of staying behind. Tina had donned a hoodie to hide her bright blue hair while Declan and I were in our usual town-saving gear. Marisol had donned a knit cap but it did little to obscure her face.

  Don’t let her get caught.

  “It’s our best chance,” Tina replied and bent to study the keypad lock.

  Declan shouldered his way past me and put a gloved hand—he wasn’t completely clueless—on the door handle. “I got this.”

  “No! If you force it open, it trips the security system. We are trying to avoid getting caught, remember?”

  “Not everything can be hacked,” he argued.

  “Watch me.”

  Like in the study room, we crowded around her as she pulled out a USB cable and tablet and pulled up a program. Numbers flashed rapid-fire on the screen like a slot machine until each spot was filled. Tina keyed in the code, the pad lit up with a green light, and the door clicked.

  “That is only supposed to work in the movies,” Declan muttered.

  “They had to get it from somewhere,” Tina answered and gestured for him to go in.

  We filed in, in single file and found ourselves one level above where we needed to be. I took the lead and we marched down the stairs and into the hallway. I spotted Gladys’s closed desk.

  The door leading to the records had no electronic lock to be hacked, but the door was firmly secured when I tried the knob.

  “I got this,” Marisol said, pulling a couple of hairpins from her head and kneeling in front of the door.

  “Seriously?”

  She flashed me a sad smile. “I picked up a few tricks that aren’t exactly legal.

  She fiddled with the lock until it, too, clicked open. I kept glancing over my shoulder, a sense of foreboding crawling up my spine. This was not a good idea, and though I couldn’t hear any thoughts besides our group of four, I knew we weren’t alone.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I whispered.

  Tina stayed near the front of the office space and I led Marisol and Declan back through the haphazard filing cabinets to the unmarked one in the back. I prayed it wouldn’t make too much noise or betray our presence.

  My prayer went unanswered. The metal squeaked as I pulled open the drawer and maybe it was my nerves, but the rustling papers and file folders echoed too loud in my ears. I found the file where I’d stashed it and we moved back to the middle of the room. I turned on my phone’s flashlight as we flipped through the pages. The actual blueprints weren’t in the file, only the smaller paper copy we’d already seen.

  “You almost done in there?” Tina called out in a stage whisper.

  “The original prints aren’t here,” Declan replied.

  “There’s some sort of reference number,” Marisol said, tapping the top right corner of one of the copies.

  I held the corner of the page up to the LED light and tried to commit the number to memory. I did a quick three-sixty in the middle of the room but none of the file cabinets had anything close to the number on it.

  “I don’t see where it could be,” I whispered, panic starting to churn my stomach contents.

  “You need to move your asses. I don’t think we’re alone.” Tina reappeared in the room with us.

  No one got the chance to respond because the door whined on its hinges as it closed and Marisol’s ex-boyfriend, Jason, appeared. Instinctively, I put myself between him and Marisol. His thoughts were w
hite noise, like before, and my vision started to blur. Tina spun around and backpedaled, bumping into me. Her fingers grasped for my free hand.

  “It’s him,” Marisol rasped.

  “You might have mentioned he looked like a serial killer,” Tina hissed.

  He reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a gun. Shit. Marisol squeezed my hand tighter and I heard her thoughts as if she was shouting at me.

  I can’t feel anything from him. Why can’t I feel anything?

  “I don’t know,” I whispered out of one side of my mouth.

  Declan wasn’t fazed by the intruder or the weapon. God, why did he have to think he was fucking bulletproof? We didn’t need him to test which one of us was right. Not when we were already in the commission of a crime. He closed in on Marisol’s ex, gun level with his pectoral muscles.

  Cold sweat popped out along my hairline and down my back like icy fingers clawing at my skin. We’d been through too much together to have it end like this. “What do you want?” My voice was hoarse, but I got the words out.

  Gun still raised, Jason tilted his head at me but remained silent. Declan used the moment of distraction to his advantage and swung one of his beefy fists at the guy’s head. The guy flickered as he’d done when I tried to get in his head.

  “The fuck?” Declan took an unsure step backwards.

  The guy raised his gun and I dove forward without thinking, releasing my grip on Marisol and Tina’s hands. The sound of the gun going off deafened me and my body hurt as I collided with Declan, sending us both toppling into a cabinet.

  When I looked up again, our intruder had vanished. I could see Marisol’s lips moving, but no sound reached my ears over the now painful ringing in them. I closed my eyes in an effort to focus on her thoughts, but my powers were busted. I opened my eyes again to find Tina gesticulating wildly at one of the cabinets. I shook my head, hoping she understood I had no clue what was going on.

  All at once, my senses kicked back in and I felt a burning, throbbing sensation in my left arm. The tears in Marisol’s eyes told me I didn’t want to look. I did anyway and regretted it. My sleeve was sticky and when I probed the spot, my fingertips came away stained red.

  Okay, I’m not exactly squeamish; I can handle a little blood. But I’ve never been shot before. That shit hurts. Well, until the shock gets you all nice and numb. After that it’s not so bad. Then, there’s the whole staying conscious thing. That is a lot harder than they make it look in the movies. Please excuse me while I take this opportunity to pass out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Marisol

  Spencer slumped over against Declan when he passed out. Tears blurred my vision as I checked for a pulse. It still beat strong and steady in his throat, if not a little fast. Declan grunted and crawled from beneath Spencer’s weight.

  “He’s been shot,” I whimpered.

  Tina looked at her fallen friend and color drained from her face. She turned away in an effort to hide her emotions from me. Or so I assumed. She took a few steps away from our huddle and peered at something I couldn’t see.

  “Hold him up,” Declan ordered, and I did my best to support Spencer’s weight.

  With a far gentler touch than I would have expected from someone of his size, Declan peeled the bloody fabric away from the skin and he heaved a sigh. “It’s a graze. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged, but he’ll be okay.”

  “You’re sure,” I pressed.

  “Declan’s right,” Tina said.

  “What are you doing?” I snapped.

  She moved aside to reveal a dented metal filing cabinet. In the dim light I could see the shiny metal of a bullet lodged in the top of the cabinet where the identifying label should be. The label had fallen to the floor. Tina scooped it up. “What was the number on the copy of the blueprint?”

  “Why does it matter now? Spencer is hurt. He needs a hospital,” I argued.

  “You heard Declan, he’ll be okay. We aren’t leaving without getting what we came for. Spencer would want us to finish.”

  “You don’t know him as well as you think.”

  She turned on me, and the intensity of her stare made me take a step backward. “And you do?”

  “Both of you shut up,” Declan growled, snatching the label from Tina’s hand. “It matches. Get the damn blueprints so we can go. Marisol is right. Sorano needs medical attention and he’s not going to get it here.”

  Tina yanked open the drawer with no regard for if it drew attention to what we were doing and pulled out thick tubes of blueprints. She slid them into her backpack as much as she could while Declan and I hefted Spencer’s unconscious body to a standing position.

  “Put the rest of it back,” I whispered to Tina.

  She rolled her eyes but did as I asked and shoved the file back where we’d found it. For good measure, she dug the bullet out of the cabinet and slid the label back in place. The space was still in disarray but no more so than when we arrived. She turned the lock from the inside and we staggered toward the stairs. I tried to nudge Spencer awake with my thoughts, but he was in shock. I couldn’t blame him for defending us. I had to hope Declan was right about the severity of the wound. This was all my fault. We made it to the first subterranean floor and darted out the exit we’d come in. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding when the keypad flipped to red.

  ‘Where do we go now?” I asked.

  “Come on. I know somewhere we can patch him up.” Declan moved Spencer into a fireman’s carry and led us back the way we’d come. We turned left when we reached the street back to the library and after another few turns, we ended up at a big bungalow. Declan marched to the back of the house and stopped at the first darkened window.

  “Take him,” he said, and Tina and I shouldered Spencer’s weight while Declan shoved the window open.

  “We aren’t breaking and entering again, are we?” I whispered.

  “Nope.” Declan slid through and once he was inside, we clumsily passed Spencer over the windowsill.

  Tina went next and I climbed in last, easing the window shut behind me. I took in the stucco walls and wrestling trophies along one wall. The rest of the room was nondescript, impersonal. Declan vanished, leaving Tina and I standing next to Spencer’s still unconscious body.

  “So, this is his place?” I offered.

  “Guess so.”

  I arched a brow. “You mean you’ve never been here before?”

  “We don’t hang out together outside of crime fighting.” She had a wistful glint in her eye and I picked up on longing beneath the surface.

  I kept my mouth shut, remembering Spencer’s warning about pushing Tina too far. Thankfully, he moaned and blinked rapidly, coming back to the world of the conscious.

  “Ow,” he groaned.

  Declan reappeared with a first-aid kit and a glass of water. “Help me get his shirt off.”

  Although there was nothing remotely sexual about the situation, I still felt a blush creep up my neck as I struggled to pull the sleeve off.

  “Not the setting I had in mind,” Spencer said with a weak smile at me.

  I gave him a reassuring smile as Declan doused a bit of cotton with rubbing alcohol.

  “Fuck!” Spencer howled as soon as Declan pressed an alcohol-drenched cotton swab to the wound.

  I leaned in and kissed him in a bid to keep him from rousing suspicion. He relaxed, and I kept my full attention focused on him. His emotions were a jumble of excitement at kissing me again, fear at having been shot, and a strong dose of embarrassment because the impromptu kiss had an audience. Declan worked with precision, wiping down the wound with more antiseptic and gently wrapping it in gauze. He secured it in place with two strips of medical tape and tapped my shoulder, signaling he was finished.

  I pulled away from Spencer and his face fell a little. Declan shoved the water glass into his hands along with some pills. “This will take the edge off. Keep it covered and change the dressing a
t least once a day. You’ll be fine.”

  “Where’d you learn to do all this first aid stuff?” Tina interjected from the other side of the room.

  He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Boy Scouts.”

  “I never knew.”

  He shrugged one massive shoulder. “We’ve all got secrets.”

  Spencer focused his gaze on me. “He shot me.”

  I threw my arms around him and hugged as tight as I dared. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I should have told someone the first time I saw him.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said into the side of my neck.

  “Tina is right. I’ve put you all in danger.”

  “We knew there’d be risks when we decided to do this,” Tina replied. She pulled out the blueprints from her bag. “Let’s see if it was worth it.”

  “How’d you find them?” Spencer sipped from the water glass, color coming back into his cheeks.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out the bullet, tossing it underhand at Spencer. He caught it and studied it. “Not sure I want this as a souvenir.”

  “You might because it lodged in the exact cabinet we needed.”

  “You’re joking.”

  All three of us shook our heads. “I guess you deflected it in the right way,” I answered.

  “Not sure luck had anything to do with it. He didn’t pull the trigger until Spencer was already moving. If he’d wanted to shoot me, he would have. I think maybe he did it intentionally,” Declan mused, gathering the bloody and used cotton swabs and burying them in the bottom of his trashcan.

  “You think he was helping us? I think maybe you hit your head when I tackled you,” Spencer scoffed.

  “It feels like a big coincidence he shows up and manages to hit the cabinet we need.”

  Tina uncapped the tubes and spread the blueprints out on the floor, the original design from Kirkpatrick Industries and the most recent design for the library—from nearly a decade ago—overlaid. Declan rummaged through his closet and found some fluorescent camp lights. We set them up, so we could use the light to see through the paper. I peeled back the right side of the top schematic and found Room 804 on the far right of the design.