“What’s wrong with the doorbell?” I asked.
“You didn’t expect me to saunter past the surveillance team, did you?”
Shutting the door behind her, Miriam stalked to the kitchen. A steel infinity symbol twisted and looped over her heart. She was on a mission and she wasn’t going to be budged from it. Water—again, an apparition—dripped nonstop from her to a puddle at her feet, and ridiculously long neon green nails tipped her real ones. I sighed. After draining the house of electricity, it was no less than I should have expected. The divinations around Hudson were overactive as well. This was another reason I preferred sleeping in my own home: no visual bombardment the next morning.
“Did you find something already?” I asked, deciding to ignore her dramatic entrance.
“Aside from the fact that you’ve got three parties watching your place?”
“The FBI, a blond Russian fellow, and two black guys in a crappy little Tercel?” Hudson guessed.
“No Tercel. Who’s the blond guy?”
“Matvei. My useless coworker.”
“Who’s the third?” I asked.
“A sedan, guy’s got dark hair, midthirties, Caucasian. He drove by twice, so he might not be watching, just lost. Ready to admit you’re in over your head yet?”
I shook my head. “What’d you find out?”
“That you’re in over your head.” She flipped open a folder she’d had tucked down the front of her jacket. “Three of those sketches your aunt gave us linked to women with Interpol rap sheets a mile long, none of it petty. Miyu Shimizu, Yuuka Yamaguchi, and Nanami Sato.”
“What about the other two?” I asked, curious about the extras Sofie had seen in her divinations.
“No hits. Were they part of the kidnapping?”
“I don’t think so. Sofie was working from memory of faces that were covered with ski masks most of the time. I think she guessed on a couple,” I said.
“Well, she was dead-on with these three. I checked out the Jennifer Winters case, too. It was pretty boring until you two showed up, acting suspicious enough to raise the radar of a dead agent. You’ve been sleeping somewhere different every night, dropping cars like they’re stolen, associating with criminals.”
“Yeah, Coutu and Sevallo told us about Atlas and Edmond,” Hudson said. “I did a little checking on my own. They’re small-time.”
“They were also the only suspected collaborators with Winters until five days ago,” Miriam said. “Now you’re number one and two on the list. Plus, that charming little woman you brought to Carmela’s? Dempsey Semenchuk?”
“It’s pronounced ‘Sim-ens-huk,’” I said, fighting a smile.
“Semen-chuk, Sim-ens-huk, either way, Dempsey’s got quite the string of trespassing charges and restraining orders, with a few citations for causing a nuisance and one dropped charge for breaking and entering.”
After meeting Dempsey over the business end of Attila, I had no trouble picturing her acquiring a rap sheet.
“How you got tied to Maxwell Overton and the tax evasion scheme he’s got going, or what that has to do with Jennifer Winters, has the whole team thoroughly confused.”
“Who?” Hudson asked.
I frowned. “I don’t know a Maxwell Over— Max! He’s a client. I did a consultation for him a few days ago.” I rounded on Miriam. “I’m not part of any tax evasion scheme! How could you think that?”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better? That you’re not involved in some white-collar crime? The women holding your ‘friend’ have warrants for manslaughter.”
The blood drained from my head. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten Sofie involved in this. They could have killed her. They could still kill Jenny.
“This stops now, Eva. You’re in over your head and you’re lucky—damn lucky—that no one has gotten killed. Yet.” Miriam’s eyes drilled into me.
“But Jenny’s still—”
“Leave Winters to the FBI. The sketches you gave us—I told Coutu and Sevallo it was an anonymous tip. That was plenty. Just in time, too. I don’t know what happened between yesterday and this morning, but there’s an entire task force dedicated to this case now, and most of them are specialists from across the country. This went from our branch’s weirdest case to the agency’s top priority. So, thank you. You’ve helped enormously. Now sit it out!” She shoved my chest, and I staggered into a chair. Then she rounded on Hudson. “You, too, security boy.”
Hudson held up his hands placatingly. “Fine. We’re out of it anyway.”
A muscle worked in Miriam’s jaw, then she took a step back and thrust her hair behind her ear. The steel infinity symbol dropped to her stomach and expanded until it looped through her abdomen. It didn’t look comfortable. “Good. With the handwriting from the note being a match for Nanami Sato’s, along with the sketch, we’ve got all we need. If Winters had brought us the note yesterday for analysis, we’d already have nabbed the kidnappers, but instead she did exactly what Sato wanted: exchanged herself for Sofie.”
“Wait, the note said Jenny had to surrender?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“She knew all along that she was going to be taken?” Why not just tell us, then? Why not go directly to the park, too? If she had, we wouldn’t have gotten there in time to see her taken, so what had she needed time to do? Where had she been between the time she left Annabella’s and when she met the ninjas at the park? I couldn’t begin to guess how the crazy scientist thought, but one thing was apparent: She had never intended for us to be there when she offered herself up for the exchange. Only Dempsey’s rally-racer driving skills had got us to the park in time to see Jenny taken—and Jenny had practically outrun her captors to their van when she saw us coming.
Hudson must have followed the same logic because the top hat sprouted, tall and silver, and his familiar suspicious scowl drew his brows together.
“Maybe they’re in cahoots. Either way, she wasn’t taken far. The trio haven’t left the country, and they most likely haven’t left the city. Now”—Miriam clapped her hands and I jumped—“it’s time for you both to return to your regular lives. And for Pete’s sake, Eva, act like you’re not suspect number one! It’ll be a miracle if you don’t get dragged into this mess after all.”
“I can’t just—” I cut myself off. I couldn’t tell Miriam I’d promised myself I wouldn’t abandon Jenny.
I haven’t, my subconscious argued. I’d taken the sketches to Miriam, and now the FBI knew who they were looking for. I’d colossally increased the odds of Jenny being found and rescued.
I’d also increased the chances of the life-lengthening formula—and Kyoko—falling into the government’s hands, something I’d sworn to Jenny I wouldn’t do.
Something I swore under threat of blackmail, I argued with myself. Jenny was in no position to leverage her hold over me now.
But Jenny had sacrificed herself to the ninjas to save Sofie. For that, I’d risk a lot more than I would have for blackmail.
“When will the FBI make its move?” Hudson asked.
Miriam switched her glare to Hudson. “Soon. I’m not on this case, so I don’t know all the details, but Winters should be safe soon. And then”—she turned to me—“I’m getting to the bottom of this. No more ‘package’ crap.”
Soon could be today or it could be five days from now. Jenny could be dead by then. Kyoko could be dissected. The formula could have been tortured out of Jenny and in the hands of some diabolical dictator bent on overthrowing the world.
Or the FBI could rescue Jenny today. They could be saving her right now.
Then Kyoko would be in their hands, Evolution Solutions would learn that Kyoko was the real deal, and everything Jenny was trying to prevent would come to pass.
I weighed my odds against homicidal ninjas. I suffered no delusions that I could best the ninjas and free Jenny and Kyoko on my own, but I also couldn’t simply sit by and wait. There had to be something I could do, some way I could hel
p. We just needed a little time to formulate a plan . . . without the FBI watching us.
“Okay.” I tried to sound resigned. “You’ll tell me the moment Jenny is safe?”
Miriam scrutinized my expression. “If you promise you’re done with the insanity,” she said.
“I’m not about to pit myself against murderers.”
“Again,” Miriam said.
“Live and learn.”
A knock rattled the front door.
“Eva, so help me, if you’re lying . . .” Miriam shook her head. “I won’t be able to help you if you do something stupid.”
“Then I won’t do anything stupid.”
“Too late.”
Miriam stalked to the back door and gave Hudson and me a final glare. Then she slipped out and vaulted the back fence.
“For a guy who works in security, your house is very easy to break into,” I said.
“I can’t say it was a problem before I met you.”
Another knock rattled the door.
“Do you think it’s the FBI?” I asked.
“Were you serious about letting them handle everything?”
“Unless they need assistance.” I batted my eyelashes at him.
“That’s my Eva.” Hudson brushed a kiss across my lips as he passed by to open the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Don’t even look surprised to see me,” Dempsey said, barreling past Hudson and into the house. “I told you I’m not letting you out of my sight until our elephantini is safe. We compact creatures have to stick together.”
“Come in,” Hudson said with a sarcastic arm flourish.
Dempsey was dressed for a safari today. Her khaki pants and matching vest had more pockets than a fisherman’s outfit. Her hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and her face was made up for a film shoot. The crest of red hair rising like a faux hawk from her forehead to her ponytail almost looked like part of her outfit, as did the beaded breastplate, though I knew both were divinations. Dempsey was on a warpath.
“You planning on hunting big game today?” Hudson asked, brushing past Dempsey on his way to the phone.
“I’ve got Attila packed in the truck.”
“That wasn’t what I meant,” Hudson muttered. He jabbed at the buttons on his cordless phone.
I could have told him nothing was going to happen with the phone. Just like I could have told him that the kitchen and bathroom lights were temporarily out of commission, not the lie I’d given him that I preferred to wake up without harsh fluorescent lights. Controlling my curse had been the last thing on my mind last night. Even if I hadn’t blown the fuses then, six hours of sleep, followed by this morning’s quickie had ensured the house’s electricity was fried for at least ten hours.
Hudson slammed the phone back into the cradle.
My internal relationship countdown timer flipped on with a nauseous jolt, and sorrow washed through me. I liked Hudson. It was going to hurt to see him go, but go he would. I had no illusion on that one. He was a man of electronics and gadgets; I was a woman doomed to destroy everything he enjoyed: our relationship would inevitably crash and burn.
“The elephantini curse continues?” I asked, trying for teasing but failing.
“With a vengeance. You got a cell phone I can borrow?” Hudson asked Dempsey.
“Nope. The one I had yesterday went kaput. We must have been a victim of one of those EMP things.”
I almost laughed. EMPs were electromagnetic pulses that damaged nearby electronics. Ari and I had an inside joke that Annabella had known exactly what she was doing when she named me Eva Melisande Parker—I was a walking EMP.
“Good thing you never replaced your phone, Eva,” Hudson said, heading for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Matvei will have a phone. He’s not part of this elephantini business, so the curse shouldn’t have affected him.” He spun back around and grinned at us. “I had a stroke of brilliance this morning. We know something the FBI don’t. We know about Kyoko, which means we might be able to track down the ninjas before the FBI knows where to look. Give me a minute.”
He was gone before I could ask how.
“What’s he talking about?” Dempsey asked.
“I don’t know.” The idea of rushing ahead of the FBI made the few bites of cereal I’d taken churn in my gut, but if we wanted to save Jenny and keep Kyoko out of the government’s hands, we had to be one step in front of everyone else. Maybe with the information Miriam had given us, we could be.
“I need some fresh air,” I said. The silence in the house felt heavy. Dempsey shoved off the couch and followed me to the door.
“You’re not going anywhere without me.”
“I’m just stepping outside.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
I grabbed my bag and slung it over a shoulder. Outside, I spotted Hudson immediately. He stood next to a silver four-door car, hip cocked against the side panel in front of the driver’s side-view mirror, talking on a phone. Matvei sat in the driver’s seat, and I waved to him. He waved back, but I thought he was more curious about Dempsey than me.
Hudson talked with his hand covering his mouth, his eyes scanning the street. Matvei had the music on loud, and Hudson appeared to be talking over it, which made no sense. When Hudson saw me, he gave the blue van a half block away a pointed look. It was a nondescript van, just dirty enough to blend in, with no markings and no one in the cab.
I surveyed the rest of the street. Miriam had confirmed that the FBI were watching us. Since all the other vehicles were standard cars and trucks, and all of them were empty, that left the van.
I rocked on my feet, a plan forming. If by some miracle Hudson was able to find Jenny’s location before the FBI, and if we were—out of some misguided sense of gratitude for saving Sofie or perhaps under the compulsion of idiocy—going to attempt a rescue, we wouldn’t want the FBI tagging along to ruin everything. Besides, I didn’t like being a suspect, and I wasn’t going to make it easy on the FBI to collect data on me.
I made a beeline for the van before I could talk myself out of it. Dempsey trotted beside me.
“What’re you doing?”
“Chatting,” I said.
I peered in the driver’s side window, but a solid partition behind the cab blocked my view of the back of the van.
“Should I get Attila?”
“No!”
“Sheesh. You’re the one poking around a rapist van.”
“It’s not a rapist. It’s the FBI.”
“Maybe that’s what the rapist wants you to think.”
“Why would a rapist be waiting out here? Especially when the FBI have been tracking me.”
“Because he’s looking for easy pickin’s. You and me? We’re easy.”
“Speak for yourself.” I rapped on the back door of the van. It rocked as someone moved inside. Dempsey squealed and ran around the car parked behind the van, hiding against the side of it.
The back door of the van swung open. A lanky man with soft blond hair, rumpled slacks, and a stained white T-shirt peeked out at me. His pants were overlaid by a divination of leopard-print spandex. I’m not a fan of spandex on men, but he had the physique for it.
“Hi, I’m Eva Parker,” I said, extending my hand. “I believe I’m who you’re here to keep an eye on.”
He shook my hand by rote, gave our clasped hands a befuddled look, and pulled free. His hand and arm were tan and freckled. I craned my head to peer behind him into the darkness of the van. Some surveillance equipment lined one side, or that’s what I assumed the screens and keyboards and other wired and electronic equipment was. Two chairs were squeezed into the remaining space, and the second chair was occupied by a slightly older man, Cuban, with a shaved head and a headset over one ear. A child’s drum set, complete with flailing hands-free drumsticks, clanged soundlessly around his workstation. I hazarded a guess based on the apparition that he was annoyed. With me.
>
I gave both men a sweet smile and amped up my own frustration levels, allowing all the selfish why me? feelings to overflow from their locked cage. Why had Jenny picked me to dump Kyoko on? Why had she involved me in this mess? If not for her, I would be happily performing consultations and living in my perfect loft. Instead, I was lying to the FBI, my precious loft had been ransacked, my belongings had been fondled and broken by strangers, and my relationship with a genuinely wonderful guy was on a high-speed crash course.
The last thought annoyed me the most. I would figure out a way to prove my innocence if it came to that, and my destroyed belongings could be replaced, but it’d been a while since I’d found a man I wanted to spend time with, and not just physically. If I had the luxury, I’d step back, give him some space to allay his growing suspicions—or superstitions—and plan our dates strategically to optimize our time away from electronics. We’d spend a weekend at my place, go for a hike or a bike ride, and go to a museum or a play in the park. We’d do something normal, something that would give us time to get to know each other. If I played it right, I could extend a two-week relationship for months. But Jenny had ruined that. I’d be lucky if Hudson stuck around another week.
I pulled all of my frustration to the surface, haphazardly demolishing the fragile barriers around my curse. Planting a hand on the closed panel door of the van, I imagined my curse reaching out for fuel for my gift, sucking in electricity through my palm.
“I was expecting Agent Coutu,” I said. “But maybe you could help me—”
“Ma’am, we’re not supposed to be talking to you,” the blond agent said. The leopard print on his pants rippled like a cat stretching.
“I know, but I was hoping you might have heard something. I don’t feel safe—”
“We didn’t hear anything, Ms. Parker. Dane, close the door,” the Cuban agent said.
“You’ll let me know when you do?” I stuck my torso into the door so Dane couldn’t comply with his partner’s order. My hand began to patter with an invisible tic, but it wasn’t actually moving. Inside the van, the drum set exploded to full size and a chorus of howling dogs circled the older agent, making me thankful my apparitions didn’t include sound. Dane’s leopard-print pants morphed into leopard legs, transforming him into a predator faun. A gold crown circled his head, and then a pen stabbed through his hand. I jerked at the violent divination.
Tiny Glitches: A Magical Contemporary Romance Page 28
