And got the same result.
“What’s the matter?” Jones whispered.
Quinn motioned for him to join her in the bathroom. They couldn’t chance leaving any traces for Carlson’s mind to pick up on.
“It doesn’t make sense,” she said.
“What doesn’t?”
“It only produced five matches.”
Jones made a face. “You do it right?”
“I ran it twice. Same result.”
He shrugged. “Not every memory gets stored. Them five must be the good ones.”
She began looking through the memory fragments, each a different size, ranging from brief to extensive. The larger one was from that night at Canine, near the men’s room. The smaller fragments had the same time signature as the large one. There was nothing from the night at Linden’s place, or thereafter, until Canine.
“Did they block his memories somehow?” Jones asked, looking at her in disbelief.
Quinn scowled. “One way to find out. Give me five minutes, no more.”
They left the bathroom and sat down near Carlson’s bed. Quinn put on her nodes, and within moments she was in the disarray of Jake Carlson’s mind. There were random images of Canine, conversational fragments, snippets of attractive women in revealing clothing, the odor of alcohol and smoke, meetings with other rough-looking men. The mindjacking equivalent of a stroll through Downtown on a Saturday, and nothing more.
She waited, knowing the good stuff took time. It eventually came—men in prison uniforms with monochrome tattoos, brief fragments of Midtown back when there was still a tree or two, images of a teenage boy. Elliot Carlson, Jake’s son.
His memories of Quinn weren’t blocked by some fancy technology. Which meant that unless they were buried in the mass of data they’d downloaded, it was becoming less and less likely he was the one who’d been stalking her.
After Jones pulled her out, Quinn wiped any memories of her, Jones, and the injection. Then they gathered their belongings and snuck out the back door of Carlson’s building before going their separate ways.
When Quinn got home, it was light out. She peeled off her jacket and stowed away her equipment, her mind blank and her emotions run dry. She sat down on her bed, too tired to think but too disturbed to sleep.
Then her phone beeped. Maybe Jones, making sure she got home okay. But it wasn’t, and deep down she knew it wouldn’t be.
Out looking for me again, Quinn? You’re wasting your time. By the time you find me, by the time you can do anything about me… it will be too late.
It couldn’t be Carlson. He wouldn’t wake up for several more hours.
Carlson wasn’t her stalker. And she had no idea who was.
Chapter 22
“It ain’t him.”
Jones was sitting at Quinn’s kitchen table, hunched over his computer, parsing the data they’d pulled from Jake Carlson.
Quinn stood by her window, staring out at the sky, its blue marred by dust on that windy day. She nodded. She’d known Carlson wasn’t her stalker the moment she’d gotten that message, if not before. But they’d mined the data anyway, hoping for some nugget she’d missed. There wasn’t one.
“Try to find some data on the Black Jays,” she said. “Maybe this wasn’t a complete loss. I’ll go get us something to eat.”
By the time Quinn returned and they ate, Jones hadn’t found anything. Finally, he shook his head and cursed.
“Fucker didn’t even know his son was a Jay. The memories of his kid are old, from before he did time.”
“So they weren’t even close. But… he saw me coming, Jones. Saw us coming. He even called me a jacker whore!”
“Them prison guys are paranoid about gettin’ jacked. They hear all sorts of stories from other guys inside. Most of ‘em are lies, but some have been jacked by mind thieves lookin’ for cheap information or a way to blackmail.” He shrugged. “Even after they get out, most of ‘em are still up to no good, so they learn to be on the lookout for any sign of a jacker.”
Frustration building in her, Quinn kicked her boot, sending it across her floor. “How the hell did I get this wrong? Am I losing it?”
“Nah. The guy had the rap sheet and the motive… and the timing was right. Had me fooled.”
There was a knock at Quinn’s door. She stared at the door in surprise, her blood turning cold.
Calm down. The stalker isn’t going to show up here in broad daylight and knock on the damned door.
She tiptoed over and peered through the peephole. It was Devin. She opened the door just a crack.
“Hey,” he said. “I just wanted to stop by and see if you wanted to get dinner later… maybe take Lucifer out for a late-night gander?” He smiled a little.
“I’d love to, but something came up at work and it’s going to take a while to fix it.”
Devin hesitated, glancing past her, as if trying to get a glimpse inside. He knew something was up, and it showed on his face.
“Is everything okay?” he finally asked.
“Yeah. It’s just work.” At least it wasn’t a lie.
Devin nodded. “Give me a call tonight if you want.”
“I will, Devin. Thank you for checking on me.” She smiled, then closed the door.
Jones sat there looking at her, one eyebrow raised. “Gentleman suitor?”
“That sounds strange, coming from a thug.” Jones chuckled. “He’s a neighbor. He’s been nice to me and he has the cutest pet iguana. He even took me to my first Demons game.”
“He a cop?”
“No, he’s not a cop. I checked.”
“I like him already.”
Quinn grabbed a bottle of chilled water from the fridge and refilled their glasses.
“He knows you were lyin’. About bein’ busy with work.”
“It wasn’t a lie,” she said, annoyed.
Jones’s phone rang. He checked it and stood up. “Hey buddy.” His tone changed completely, and she knew it was Jeffrey calling. “I’m with my friend. I’ll be home—” Pause. “No. Everything’s fine, I promise. There’s no need to get upset.” Pause. “Alright, alright. I’ll be home soon, okay? Be good for Mom.” Jones hung up and closed his eyes for a moment.
Guilt tore through Quinn. Jones was missing out on time with his family because of her bullshit. “Look. You did all you could, Jones. I’ll deal with this on my own from now on. It’s too dangerous for you and it’s taking too much time away from your family.”
“You can’t take on this stalker alone.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It ain’t about confidence! This guy’s fucken dangerous, and he’s skilled as shit if we can’t even find him.”
“This isn’t your fault or your problem. It’s a waste of your time—”
“Stop sayin’ that,” he growled at her.
“Why? Why not say it? I can’t take the pressure of having you involved anymore.”
“Pressure? I’ve been workin’ my ass off for you, riskin’ myself, and it’s a fucken annoyance to you?” He shook his head. “Fuck this.” He snapped his computer shut and began packing.
“Why are you being an asshole?” she cried. “I’m trying to look out for you.”
“No, you ain’t. You just want to do everything your way, like usual. It’s like you don’t even know what partnership is.”
Quinn took a deep breath and kept herself from blowing up at him. “I know exactly what partnership is. This may come as a shock to you, but if something happened to you because of me, because of my situation, I couldn’t live with myself or face your family.”
Jones set down his bag. “This is what I’m talkin’ about. Yeah, you pulled the trigger on them guys, but we both did ‘em in. I’m as responsible for them dyin’ as you are. You say you couldn’t live with yourself if somethin’ happened to me, but you don’t get that I couldn’t live with myself if you handled this alone and somethin’ happened to you.”
Quin
n went silent at that. Jones made a good point, and she was touched by his loyalty. But she still struggled with it. The illegal weapon she’d used that night had saved their lives, but she’d chosen to kill the two men when she could have hobbled them. Her tormentor knew it, and that’s why she was in this mess. Her choices had landed them here, not Jones’s. Besides, responsible or not, she had no one depending on her like Jones did. But… even she knew this was no time to argue.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never thought of it like that. If you want to help me solve this, okay. Just… be careful, okay?”
“I’m always careful.”
“I know.”
Jones sat back down, and Quinn followed. “Listen,” he said. “We played in the bush league. Now we gotta play in the bigs. This guy’s probably a Black Jay, and we gotta think different if we’re gonna nail him.”
Quinn nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. It’s the only explanation.” She stared at her water glass, swirling it round and round.
“Hey,” he said. She looked up at him. “It’s him or us… and it ain’t gonna be us.”
Quinn hesitated, a chill running through her at how much Jones sounded like Wyatt at that moment. She nodded.
“I gotta favor, though,” he added, smiling a little. “Consider it payment for my services.”
“What’s that?”
“Get me a date with Daria.”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Jones, you have to understand. Daria… she’s smart, she’s trustworthy, but she’s unpredictable, and her moods shift as often as El Diablo’s winds.”
“How’s that different from any woman?”
Quinn smacked him on the arm.
Jones snickered. “Come on. Unpredictable is my life. You’ve met Jeffrey, right? Besides, if it turns into something, no need to explain what I do or lie about it.”
“Assuming she’s okay with it… which is a big if.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Jones was right. For all Daria’s moodiness, she would be a welcome break from the challenges of Jeffrey. And Quinn couldn’t imagine a better man for Daria.
“Fine. I’ll do what I can, but no guarantees. I think I know where to begin.”
“Where’s that?”
“She’ll eventually report back on Solera. When she does, I’ll schedule a meeting for you guys, and I won’t come.”
He frowned. “That ain’t a date.”
“Trust me, Jones. I know her better than anyone. You don’t want to rush this.”
“Alright.”
After Jones left, Quinn found the card with Devin’s number on it and called him.
“Hey, Quinn,” he answered.
Quinn hesitated, not expecting that. “How’d you know it was me?”
He paused. “You have a Downtown prefix. I don’t get a lot of calls from that prefix. And you said you’d call.”
She chuckled. “Good point.”
“Did you get your work problem solved?”
“For now.”
“Feel like getting some fresh air? I was just about to take Lucifer out for a walk.”
“I’d love to.”
Down in the lobby, Devin and Lucifer were already there when Quinn arrived. Lucifer lunged toward her, so Devin let go of the leash and Lucifer scuttled over. When she bent down to meet him, he ran up her leg and then her arm, his weight heavier than she expected and his feet half-tickling, half-scratching her bare skin. Quinn cried out in surprise, laughing.
“Lucifer,” Devin said sternly as he came over to relieve Quinn of her new reptilian friend. But when Devin reached out to take him, Lucifer bit his hand. Devin scowled.
“Oh my God, he’s so cute!” a female voice called out.
Quinn turned to find Merritt heading their way, her tool belt askew and her eyes lit up like a child’s. She reached a hand out for Lucifer.
“Careful,” Devin warned, but it was too late. Merritt was already petting Lucifer, keeping her hand far from his mouth. “Ladies’ man,” Devin muttered.
Quinn laughed and Merritt giggled too, cooing at Lucifer like he was a newborn baby. “Can I hold him, Devin?” she said, looking at Devin with pleading eyes.
He looked like he wanted to say no. “Just be careful. He’s not a puppy.”
Merritt took Lucifer from Quinn, looking as happy as could be as she played with the iguana. Moments later, Devin reached for him.
“He needs to go outside.” He took Lucifer and turned to Quinn. “You ready?”
Quinn nodded, taken aback by Devin’s chilly treatment of Merritt. She waved at Merritt before following Devin outside. They headed south, their pace slower than Quinn was used to due to Devin’s limp. He glanced in the lobby window, as if looking for Merritt.
“Does it bother you when people touch Lucifer without asking?” she asked, taking a guess.
“As long as they don’t get upset when he chews a finger off, not really.”
“You seemed annoyed before,” Quinn said.
Devin was silent for a moment. “I don’t like her.”
“Merritt? Why not?”
“There’s something about her that seems off. Like she isn’t who she seems.”
“Because she’s a Downtownie?” Quinn said, feeling a smidgeon of defensiveness.
“You’re a Downtownie and I like you.”
“Then what?” Quinn too had noticed something off about Merritt, but assumed it was her own paranoia, a result of her lifestyle.
“She’s too friendly.” When Lucifer began straining to get out of Devin’s arms, Devin finally let him down to walk on his own. “Like she’s a little too interested in people. And she shows up at the most convenient times, like she knows who’s coming and going, and when, and then acts like it’s coincidence.”
Quinn had noticed that too. “Maybe she’s just… friendly. She probably does it with everyone.”
“She doesn’t. Only some people, including me.”
“Maybe she likes you.”
“I doubt it. In my experience, people like her aren’t what they seem. They’re usually up to something. Something dangerous.”
Quinn stared. “How do you know this?”
“I just do,” he replied, not looking at her. “I could be wrong, but I would be careful around her. And be careful what you say.”
Quinn did a mental tabulation of all her interactions with Merritt. Her being there when Noah came looking for Quinn, appearing when Quinn happened to be in the lobby even late at night, and twice now when Quinn was talking with Devin. And at least twice Merritt had been present when Quinn had gotten her hate mail.
Devin went on. “How many times has she been in the lobby when you came home or were leaving for something other than work? She’s not the building’s only maintenance worker, but somehow she’s always around. She even asked me about you once, like she was trying to get information about you.”
Quinn frowned. “Huh.”
“She even asked about your work, since it’s clear you aren’t a nine-to-fiver.”
A chill ran through Quinn. “What did you say?”
“I said not everybody works in an office. She thinks you’re an undergrounder.”
Quinn would have laughed at that if she wasn’t so creeped out. “I agree, it’s strange. But she doesn’t strike me as dangerous.”
“No, she doesn’t. But that makes it even more powerful, especially for a woman. Young, friendly, working a menial job… perfect way to do recon or other clandestine work. No one would suspect her.”
“And I thought I was paranoid,” she joked, trying to hide her concern.
He turned to her, eyes boring into hers. “What do you have to be paranoid about?”
Quinn backpedaled. “I… all Downtownies are paranoid. It’s bred into us. Plus, I got mugged recently…”
“Something tells me there’s more to it than that.”
She wanted to tell Devi
n. She wanted someone besides Jones to know she was being tormented by an angry stalker. It never hurt to have someone else looking out for her. But she couldn’t. To tell him that would give away that she was the one doing clandestine work.
“I saw you out really late a few nights ago,” he said. Quinn stopped walking and Devin stopped too. “I wasn’t watching you, Quinn. I keep weird hours and so does Lucifer, and I went downstairs and happened to see you just leaving—”
“Speaking of right place at the right time,” she countered, crossing her arms.
“It was one time, unlike Merritt. I was about to call out to you, but you were in a hurry and you looked… upset. It’s not my business. I’m not exactly a nine-to-fiver either. All I’m saying is if you ever need anything—anything—you call me, okay?”
Quinn’s annoyance began to fade. “Good to know. Thank you. For that, and everything.” She felt scratching on her leg and looked down to find Lucifer trying to climb up her leg. She bent down to pick him up. As she petted him, trying to process all that Devin had said, her phone rang.
She pulled it from her pocket to see who it was. Yolanda. Yolanda never called this late.
“I need to take this,” she said, handing Lucifer back. “Thanks for the walk.”
They said their goodbyes and Quinn headed back to her building before taking the call.
“Yolanda. What’s up?”
“Go to the West Side safe house, right away. Call Jones and tell him to do the same.”
Quinn halted. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll be briefed at the safe house.”
“Am I fired?”
Yolanda hesitated. “No. We’ve lost an agent.
Chapter 23
Quinn chose a stool to sit on, since the couches and chairs had been taken by other agents. Jones stood behind her, leaning against the wall. Everyone murmured amongst themselves, speculating on what had happened.
Quinn did a quick count, but many of the Tier Ones weren’t in attendance, making it impossible for her to guess who they’d lost. There were also a few techs there, sitting near their partners. Behind a closed door, she could hear Yolanda and someone else talking. She looked back at Jones with a questioning look. He shrugged.
Mind Thief Page 13
