Maria’s lips parted with a slight smile. “I wanted to thank you for returning Damien to me. You said you would, and you did. You’re one of the good ones, Mr. Miller.”
He felt warmth in his cheeks and looked away. Smoothing the folds of his sheets, he said, “Call me Nathan. How is Damien?”
Maria beamed. “Home and safe thanks to you.”
“I’m not finished yet,” Nathan said, “Soon as I get out of this hospital bed, I’m going to pay his dealer a little visit. Don’t worry, he won’t be peddling to kids anymore.”
A moment of silence passed between them. Maria clutched her purse in her lap and tapped one foot against the linoleum floor. Following a deep breath, she asked, “Do you know what happened? I mean, who did this to you?”
Nathan closed his eyes as a wave of vertigo swept over him. He could see his attacker standing over him and felt the blows crippling him.
“Are you all right?” Maria asked as she moved to his bedside and rested a hand on his right arm.
Once the room ceased spinning, Nathan answered, “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Maria rubbed his arm. “It’s all right. You could have a concussion. It’s normal.”
Nathan held her in his gaze. He was drawn to her warmth. Her fingers caused a stirring in him he hadn’t felt in so long.
Grabbing her purse off the chair, she slung it over her shoulder and turned back toward him. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done. I hope you get better soon.”
She made it to the door before Nathan said, “Wait.”
With expectant eyes, she waited for him to speak. Feeling flush, Nathan asked, “Would you like to grab dinner some night?”
Maria smiled. “I’d love too.”
Nathan watched her go then closed his eyes to dream.
19
Quinn entered the hospital room. He breathed in the antiseptic aroma and fought off a wave of nausea. With a forced smile, he approached the lone bed.
Nathan stared at him from his perch atop it. “I’m surprised you had the nerve to show your face.”
Quinn’s smile faltered. He noticed the projection on the wall: Sky Network’s coverage of an arrest in the church massacre.
“How could you let this happen?” Nathan asked.
Quinn shrugged. “What do you mean let it happen? How could I stop it? Singh got a confession.”
“A bullshit drummed up confession.” Nathan pointed to the image on the wall. “This is the guy? Gene Nolan? I spoke to him the night I was attacked. He’s a friend of Joe’s, he’s not a killer. What bullshit is this?”
“What can I tell you?” Quinn said, “You were out of commission, and Nolan confessed.”
Nathan shifted in bed. “You know he didn’t do it. We have evidence it wasn’t him.”
“Evidence?” Quinn scoffed. “What evidence do we have? We have theories, and Singh has a confession. Case closed partner.”
Nathan narrowed his gaze. “Since when are you okay with an innocent man being railroaded?”
“Since when are you not?” Quinn asked.
Tense silence yawned between them. Through clenched teeth, Nathan said, “I won’t let this stand. The son of a bitch who killed those people is the same one who attacked me. And it wasn’t fucking Nolan.”
He brought his hand down on the sheets covering his HoloSphere and stopped the projection.
“You’re right, it wasn’t.” Quinn stiffened his posture. “According to Sky Network, Alexis King attacked you. Another innocent railroaded I guess, though I’m sure that one doesn’t bother you too much.”
“Something you want to say?”
Quinn shook his head. “Seems coincidental is all.”
Nathan arched an eyebrow, an invitation to explain. “Odd that Logue would find enough evidence against King for Sky Network to discredit her. Then again, it casts her tirade against you in an unflattering light. Who will believe her now, right?”
Nathan rumbled low in his throat. “Maybe you’re right, Rook. But then again, I didn’t make the accusation. Her being discredited means nothing. I’m after her source and, when I find them, they’ll regret crossing me. Where are we on that by the way?”
Quinn shrugged. “Nowhere. They’re your contacts, not mine.”
Nathan said, “When I get out of here tomorrow, we’re paying Terry a little visit. For his sake, he better have something.”
Quinn rubbed the nape of his neck. His eyes darted around the room.
“What have you found on Reyes?” Nathan asked.
Quinn nodded. “I found his sister in Madrid. She told me Reyes wasn’t religious in the least.”
Nathan shrugged. “Who is these days?”
“She found it strange he was found in a church, is all. Didn’t fit.” Quinn said.
“She know anything relevant? What he was working on, maybe?”
Quinn shook his head. “He never talked specifics with her. She told me something was bugging him though. The last few times they spoke, he wasn’t himself. She said he seemed afraid of something.”
“Horde Protocol, has to be,” Nathan said, “Where is IT on cracking that file?”
“The case is closed,” Quinn answered, “Singh shut them down.”
Nathan frowned at him. “Fucking Singh. Nolan is innocent, and Reyes is the key to solving this case. We need to know what Horde Protocol is.”
“I can try getting a favor from IT,” Quinn said, “but if Singh finds out he won’t like it.”
“Fuck the captain,” Nathan said, “We’ll go over his head. I can get Logue to authorize it. This fucking blur took a shot at me.” His eyes narrowed. “No one does that and lives.”
20
“Worthless cowards!” Alexis kicked the table in front of her. “The hell with them.” She leaned back on the sofa, closed her eyes, and sighed.
“I feel as if I’ve missed something important.”
Alexis opened her eyes a crack and looked toward the door of her office where Elise stood holding a tray of steaming coffee. Pointing to her Viz shades on the table, Alexis said, “The last of our sponsors pulled out.”
Elise stepped further inside and set down the tray. “Where does that leave The Ransom? Can we…can you afford to keep running?”
Alexis bit her bottom lip. “I’m not going anywhere. Screw the sponsors. We can find new ones.”
Elise sat on the edge of the coffee table. “How?” she asked. “Your credibility is shot. No one will fund this blog. What are we going to do?”
Alexis narrowed her eyes. “What are you really concerned about, Elise? How far into Cain are you?”
Elise bristled from the accusation. “I’m your friend, Lexi. I’m concerned about you. And don’t worry about me—I can handle my debts.”
Alexis gave a nod lacking conviction. She shook her head and said, “I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve known the Cabal would try something like this. They can’t argue with the truth, so undermining my credibility is their only play.”
“But they can’t have proof.” Elise said, “You didn’t orchestrate an attack on Miller. We can fight back and prove they’re lying.”
“You said it yourself, Elise, I have no credibility anymore. I can say whatever I want, who’s going to believe me? The police arrested Miller’s attacker, and he swore under oath I hired him. They have another witness who claims I tried to hire them for the hit. And then the coup de grâce—they’re using my posts threatening Miller as the final proof of my intention to harm him.”
Elise rubbed her palms together. She reached up and scratched the back of her head. “Are they charging you with anything?”
Alexis settled her head back against the cushions. “No. I don’t imagine they will either. They know as soon as they move against me, I’ll demand the AG get involved and they’ll lose control of it. They won’t risk that.”
Elise protested. “Because it’s all lies. Whe
re are we with your source? Can they help restore your credibility?”
Alexis showed her palm to Elise and shook her head. “I won’t endanger them. My reputation will have to wait until after we dismantle the Cabal. I’ve lost in the court of public opinion, so we try another approach.” Elise waited for her to explain. “It’s time to find out if Wurth has the illicit ledger. If he does, we do whatever’s necessary to get our hands on it. And once we do, the Cabal will be finished.”
A look of concern crossed Elise’s face. “What about your history with Wurth? Are you okay to do this? Maybe we can find another way?”
“No. There is no other way.” Alexis puckered her lips a moment. “Besides, I’ve wanted to go after Wurth for a long time now. I’m not afraid of him.” Her brow knit together and she lifted her chin. “The Cabal should be afraid. It’s time for them to hurt.”
21
“Good to see you back on your feet, Nate.”
Nathan watched Logue move behind the walnut and brass bar along one wall of the basement den.
“Can I fix you a drink?” Logue asked.
“I’m not here to socialize.”
“So I gathered,” Logue said. The clink of ice cubes against glass echoed in the dim room. “No reason to let a man drink alone though.” Logue walked out from behind the bar clutching two goblets filled with clear liquid.
He set one down on the massive marble slab between his two sofas and sat across from Nathan. A smile parted his lips. “Amazing isn’t it?” Logue said, “Those cybernetics you loathe saved your life again.” Logue took a sip of his drink and grimaced from the sharpness of it on his tongue.
Ignoring the drink in front of him, Nathan asked, “You mean the attack King orchestrated?”
Logue greeted the question with a self-satisfied smirk. “Genius right?” He said, “Talk about turning lemons into lemonade. You getting hit may have been the best thing you could’ve done. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Yeah, never cease to amaze,” Nathan said.
After another sip, Logue set the drink aside and asked, “So what do you need, Nate?”
Nathan leaned forward. “Singh pulled IT off the Reyes file while I was out of commission. I need you to put them back on it.”
Logue made a show of contemplating the request—nodding and arching his eyebrows in thought. “This is the church massacre, right?”
Nathan picked up the goblet in front of him and sniffed it but did not drink. “Yeah,” he said.
“I’m told it’s solved.”
Nathan set down the goblet. “Only because Singh found a patsy to confess. It’s closed—it’s not solved.”
Logue leaned back on the sofa cushions and stretched his arms out on top of them. He exhaled and asked, “Why do you care about this?”
“An innocent man is being railroaded.”
“Yes, well I never imagined he committed the crime. Question remains, why do you care?” Logue asked.
“The freak who came after me was the killer from the church. I need to know everything Reyes knew if I’m going to find him. I need to know what’s in that file.”
“There it is.” Logue nodded. “I’m sorry Nate, but the answer is no.”
“What?” Nathan slid closer to the edge of the sofa. “This freak took a shot at me. I cannot let that stand.”
Logue downed another sip followed by a longer grimace. “I understand, Nate, and I can appreciate your position.” He said, “But, you’re not thinking through all the way.”
Nathan ground his teeth together.
“Suppose you find him.” Logue said, “This freak that almost killed you. What would you do? I have my doubts you could kill him given…” Logue waved at Nathan to indicate his injuries “…what happened the first time. And well, there’s the problem.”
Logue stood and finished his drink on his way behind the bar. “If you brought him in for the church massacre, he might get tied to your attack. That would unravel all we’ve done to frame King. I cannot let that happen.”
Nathan clenched his left hand and imagined bringing his fist down on the marble table, cracking it in half. Seething, he asked, “If it was you—if someone took a shot at you—would you let it pass?”
“Tell you what, Nate,” Logue said, “When this all blows over and people have forgotten King, we’ll find the freak together and you can have a go at him then.”
Nathan stood and stalked over to the bar. He placed his palms down on the walnut, flexing his biceps. “And in the meantime, he walks around free? No one does what he did and gets to live.”
Logue narrowed his gaze at Nathan’s threatening posture. “I don’t care for your tone, Nate. Do you think it wise to threaten me in my home?”
Nathan noticed Logue’s hand reaching below the bar. For a gun, no doubt. He stared at him a moment longer before he pushed back from the bar. “Forget I asked. I’ll find him myself.”
“No, you won’t,” Logue said to Nathan’s back as he walked away. Nathan glanced back and Logue said, “You forget your place, Nate. I’m not asking—I’m telling. Leave this alone. Are we clear?”
Nathan gave a slight nod in reply before he left. He had no intention to leave anything alone.
Nathan rotated his beer mug on the table and watched the foam spill down the side. Tilting his head side-to-side, he fidgeted with his tie for the fourth time since he arrived.
Maria sat across from him. She looked radiant in a sweater and pant-suit combination that hugged her curves but did nothing to calm Nathan’s nerves. He smiled at her. Again. Since she joined him twenty minutes ago, he’d done little else. Around them, the boisterous activity of a Friday night at River and Rail, further highlighted their unease.
A waiter wearing a Union City Bobcats jersey and black jeans arrived to check their drinks. He hollered over the clamour of the room and asked if they wanted another. Nathan waved him off, and Maria ordered another tonic water. The waiter left with a promise to return with menus soon, setting Nathan’s stomach rumbling.
Maria leaned forward and motioned for Nathan to do the same. He leaned in and caught a whiff of her perfume—jasmine and sandalwood. She winked at him. “You don’t date much, do you?”
Their eyes met and her playful smile set Nathan at ease. He gave his head a slight shake. “Does it show?”
“Maybe a little.” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and said, “Relax, I won’t bite.”
Nathan leaned back. “Good to know. So tell me about yourself?”
“What do you want to know?”
Nathan lifted his mug to his lips. Before he took a drink he said, “Give me the highlights.”
“The highlights?” Maria lifted her eyebrows and took a sip of her drink. “Well, let’s see. Born and raised here in Union City. Only time I left was in college.”
“Where’d you go?” Nathan interrupted.
“UNC.”
“Chapel Hill,” Nathan remarked, “Nice.”
“Time of my life,” Maria said.
“What brought you back?”
Her eyes became downcast. “Song as old as time. Met a boy and thought we’d live happily ever after.”
“Damien’s father?” A pinched expression touched her eyes and Nathan let the matter drop. “What did you study as a Tar Heel?”
Her smile returned to place. “Nursing.”
“Really?”
She slapped him playfully on the arm. “Don’t look so surprised.”
Nathan stammered, “No, it’s just, I mean—”
Maria laughed. “I know. There aren’t many professionals outside the wall, right?”
“No, there aren’t,” Nathan said, a wistful tone in his voice.
Maria took another sip. “I used to work at the Catholic hospital on Cherry Hill, you know, before the purge. Then the disasters struck, and the walls went up and …” she trailed off a moment, “… anyway, these days I mostly help out at
a clinic in the neighborhood. Doesn’t pay as well, but the work is important.”
“Without a doubt,” Nathan said, “No shortage of suffering to mend in these parts since the walls went up.”
Maria lifted her glass and absently said, “I’d heard you were against the wall.”
Nathan rested his elbows on the table. “What else have you heard about me?”
She swallowed a gulp and set the glass back on the table. Scrunching up her nose, she said, “If you want to know if I’ve seen The Ransom, I have. But I don’t give her lies any validity.” Maria looked down a moment before meeting his gaze. “Beyond what you’ve done for Damien, I know you’re a good soul Nathan. You work tirelessly to keep the neighborhood safe. If Alexis King can’t see that, then she must be blind.”
“Kind of you to say,” Nathan said. He grinned and looked away. “Keep it up though and you’ll make me blush.”
She stretched her leg out under the table and ran her foot along Nathan’s calf. He started from the touch. “I didn’t think tough cops like you could blush.”
He leaned forward. “You’d be amazed what tough cops can do.”
They held each other’s gaze. Desire smoldered between them. When the waiter returned with the menus, food no longer seemed to matter.
22
Nathan threw Quinn a look when he saw him walk through the door of Jitter’s Coffeehouse.
“What?” Quinn asked, his hands spread out at his sides.
“You’re late, Rook.”
“Oh, come on.” Quinn made a show of checking his watch. “It’s only a few minutes after eight.”
“Which makes you late.” Nathan pointed to the front counter. “Grab your coffee and let’s go. We have a lot of ground to cover today.”
Heading for the counter, Quinn asked, “How did the date go last night?”
Nathan glowered at him. Quinn chuckled. “You really think I didn’t know about that? Even tried getting a pool going around the clubhouse but couldn’t find anyone who thought it would last beyond one date. So how was it?”
Singularity Page 9
