“Rick,” he said, cutting the guy off mid-sentence, “I need to stretch my legs. Maybe wander around a little.” Until he found a room with a computer, a file cabinet, or an incriminating post-it collection.
“I’ll go too.”
Where are those assholes with the Tasers when you need them? So much for a little privacy…or quiet. Maybe in another hour, he would claim he needed the bathroom and a newspaper. See if little Ricky wanted to tag along then.
As soon as they turned down the hallway, he saw Sinclair storming towards them.
“Oh shit, dude,” Rick whispered. “She looks pissed. I’ve done all I can for you.” He held his hands up and backed away from Landon as if he wanted to be clear when Sinclair pounced. But she wasn’t aiming for Landon.
She started speaking about twenty feet away from them. Loudly. And angrily. “I need to see video feed of the lab and the hallway in front of my office. Now.”
“What happened?” Landon asked.
She glanced at him. “Something is missing from the pharmaceutical pantry. A lot of something.”
“Since when?” Landon took the lead because…because he always took the lead. And Rick didn’t argue.
“I don’t know. I don’t even know why I noticed—I haven’t touched the compound in months. And then, with all the issues with the University…”
How many ‘issues’ could they have with the University? Landon stayed calm on the way back to the security office and as Rick fumbled with the old footage. But since Sinclair had no idea when in the last few months it had gone missing, chances of seeing anything were a hair’s breadth above zilch.
“What’s the substance called?” Landon asked.
If she wore glasses, she would have lowered them just to scowl. Instead she just scowled. “It’s not over-the-counter, so the name probably won’t ring any bells.”
“So I should write ‘A substance I’m too stupid to even hear the name of’ on the report, then?”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” It didn’t matter if she did or she didn’t. He would learn more from her if she was flustered. “You can write down ‘GU-121’.”
Hallelujah. He’d sing some hymns later. “Could it have just been moved?” To another location say…in sunny South Florida.
“No one here would dare touch it because they know how angry I would be.” She shook her head. “It must have been stolen.”
Rick looked her as if she were nuts, as if his highly-toned security skills would keep that from ever happening.
“I understand that happens a lot,” Landon said, hoping to encourage more sharing. “Lots of grant and patent money, right?”
“Exactly.” She looked relieved someone understood. “If someone took it and copied my notes, I can’t prove it’s mine. Maybe we should call the police.”
“Let’s hold off on that for a second.” It didn’t make sense. Why was she tattling about something that she’d probably just sent over to Florida? “Doesn’t this lab have other labs you work in conjunction with? Couldn’t it just have been sent to one of them?”
“Not without—” She shut her mouth quickly, her eyes doubling in size. “You know what? Ignore me. It’s late and I’m tired.” She started backing out of the room, her body language screaming ‘panic’ louder than a Christian facing a lion.
“What did you just remember?” He followed her slowly—she was spooked enough.
“Nothing. Forget it. I just remembered where it is.” She flipped around and hightailed it out of the room, her shoes clicking down the hallway double-time.
Landon looked at Rick. “I’m going to apologize for earlier. I think she’s having a rough night.”
“All the more reason to avoid her.”
But Landon was already out the door. He went straight to her lab. And…she wasn’t there. What had made her to recant so quickly? So fearfully? Her panic would work for him, if he found her fast enough. Before she spoke to anyone or calmed down enough to think of a cover story.
Speaking of covers…His was about to be blown, but it would be worth it. He’d never expected it to last more than two or three shifts anyway. Whatever Sinclair had realized was important, came on suddenly, and terrified her. So maybe she wasn’t burrowed as deeply in The Clinic’s scheming as he’d first thought. But she definitely knew more than she was comfortable knowing.
He checked the bathroom and every room his keycard would open. Then he came to a door with her name on it.
That’s some amazing detective work there, dickhead. He put his ear up to it, but didn’t hear anything. So he knocked.
“Dr. Sinclair, are you in there?”
“Go away,” she called. “I’m busy.”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“No.”
“Can I look at you for a minute?”
“No.”
His keycard didn’t work on the office doors, so it was useless. He could pick the lock—a skill he’d perfected with Eden’s help—but Sinclair would notice and call someone. Maybe he could annoy her into opening up. It’s what Turner would do. But he was a true master at it, and Landon needed a lot more practice.
“Okay, then I’ll just talk through the door. Loudly. So anyone can hear what I say.” He paused, hoping the threat was enough. It wasn’t.
“So…I’d like to buy you dinner sometime. Or breakfast.” Oh shit, that sounded bad. He was terrible at this. “Not in a seedy kind of way, but since we both work nights, I thought it might work out well.” How does Turner do this kind of thing? Landon didn’t enjoy lying, but he could do it. Normally. But for whatever reason, the skill wasn’t translating to this.
“If you’re trying to force a reaction out of me,” she said through the door, “it isn’t working. No one stays this late, so you’re speaking to yourself.”
He had gotten a reaction out of her, although not a big enough one to get through the door. “I’m speaking to you. And I’ll continue speaking to you until you open up. If I’m going to be fired tomorrow, I have nothing to lose.”
Although it was wrong on far too many levels and his mother and sisters would be livid if they knew, he would use whatever he could. Pride, integrity, and respect shoved to the side temporarily.
He already felt guilty.
But if he pushed hard enough, if he made her uncomfortable enough, he knew she’d react territorially.
“I’d like to think you don’t look at everyone the way you looked at me,” he said weakly, but without a stutter or anything Turner would be horrified by. “But I understand if you’re not interested in sharing a simple meal with me. So I’d be happy to skip straight to the sex. Here or in your lab—whichever.”
She threw open the door, looking down the hall, her mouth tight and her eyes narrowed. “This is my workplace, not a bar. What is wrong with—?”
He pushed her into the room and slammed the door behind him, locking it with one hand, his other holding her arm so she wouldn’t run to the phone. He didn’t want to scare her, but there was no other way.
Feel guilty later.
“What are you doing?” She yanked against his grip, and then lifted her knee, aiming at his balls.
He flipped her around, sliding his arm around her neck and twisting her arm behind her back. “I really didn’t want to do this.” Not his proudest moment and a really bad idea. He should’ve been more patient. Maybe it was needing to get to her before whatever had pumped her full of adrenaline faded, or that she was the closest thing to an answer he’d seen in a very long time. Or maybe it was just because he couldn’t handle talking to Rick anymore. Whatever the reason, he’d created an unnecessary conflict that he now had to remedy.
“You should be very careful what you do now, Landon,” she said breathlessly, nervous but controlled. “I’m not the shy type. If you walk away now, I won’t tell anyone about this, Landon.” She was smart—using his name like that. The more she said it, the better chance she had of getti
ng through to him—if he were a psycho. Since he wasn’t, all it did was make the situation all the more real and horrible. “But if you don’t…”
“I’m pretty sure they already know.” His lips were close to her ear, his body away from hers as much as possible. “Listen, I’m sorry for everything I’ve said and how I handled this situation, but you need to keep your voice down. How much do you know about the company you work for?”
“Enough.” Her volume lowered, although he doubted it was because he’d asked.
“Too bad. ‘Cause I kind of liked you.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just need a chance to talk privately.” Preferably with some more space between them. “Can I let go of you now?”
“Golly, I’d sure like that,” she said, her words slippery with sarcasm.
“I mean, are you going to freak out if I let you go?”
“I don’t freak out.”
That, he believed. Her voice hadn’t changed, even though she obviously didn’t think he was just here to gawk. He released her slowly, praying his intuition was as good as it used to be. Back when things were normal and criminals were more clueless than evil. He’d love to come across a good old-fashioned murderous spouse again.
She jerked away and went to the door. “You’re so fired.”
“Figured that.” He walked around her office, checking behind every diploma and award on the walls. It wasn’t the best way to sweep a room, but it would have to do.
“What are you doing?” She stopped to watch him peek behind furniture, into drawers.
“I sincerely apologize for the vast amount of ways I have offended you this evening.” He would keep things vague until he was absolutely sure which side she was on. And he had no problem misleading her until that happened. “But my curiosity was peaked when you said some supplies were missing.”
Her eyes flashed, and she closed the door. “I knew you weren’t a regular security guard. I knew it. There’s something about you, the way you carry yourself. Plus, you blushed every time you said something obnoxious. So who are you?”
I blushed? Shit. He mimed turning down the volume and said, “A regular security guard…who used to be a detective.”
After a pause, she went to her desk, still watching him.
“Nicolas!” Rick’s voice came barreling down the hallway. “Where are you?” That guy had nothing but bad timing.
“I think you’re needed elsewhere,” she said. “What did you ask me earlier? Through the door?”
He scratched his temple, grimacing at the memory. “If you wanted dinner, breakfast, or just sex.” Yes, I really did say that.
“You’re blushing again. Come get me when your shift is over.”
It was wrong that all he could think about was if she’d decided on the last option he’d given her.
Don’t do it. Don’t be a moron and start thinking with your cock. He nodded, hoping he’d make it that long, that she wouldn’t pick up the phone and make a call that would guarantee his death.
As long as his brain stayed above his belt, Landon was smart. So before he left, he made one more sweep of the room. Along the way he unplugged the phone and bent the plug so it couldn’t be put back in. And then, with no guilt whatsoever, he swiped her cell phone off her desk.
Because he didn’t like her that much…yet.
§§§
Eden wished she could forget a lot of nights in her life, but this was by far the worst. Growls and curses coming from both directions. She felt like she was watching a tennis match from the net. An insult shot from the truck, another sent back from the office.
Mitch’s Hyde hit harder verbally and, physically, he shook the truck. Justin’s was obviously younger, less developed—what Mitch’s must have been like years ago.
He was still rough and definitely not someone she’d want to run into in an alley but, even though he talked a really unpleasant game, he seemed to know he was way out of his league. If the two of them got near each other, they would fight. To the death. And she’d see Hyde do to Justin what he’d done to her father.
She should’ve bought some earmuffs or at least a book of crosswords—anything to distract her from the noise and the stress of being in between two devils. Instead all she could do was think. And God knew nothing useful would come of that.
As the night went on, it became more than just stressful. Being so close to two Hydes affected her in a very uncomfortable way, yanking her one way and then the other, although the younger Hyde’s pull was far less than the elder’s. Her fingers dug into her thighs and her jaw was clenched so tightly, it ached. She focused on breathing through it, past the fear, past the urge to engage either one of them.
When she heard herself whimper, she got up and went outside, pacing in front of the door, then doing calisthenics just to relieve some tension. She didn’t want to be this person, walking so close to the edge all the time. Right now she could blame it on the Hydes, but it wasn’t just now. The need for relief was continual. Sure, there were ebbs and flows, like any other need or craving, but this wasn’t about binge eating or cigarettes.
This was about violence.
All she had to do was get through tonight. Then Justin’s Hyde wouldn’t appear for a few days and she’d only have one to worry about. No, that wasn’t right. She’d have two. With some effort, she could tune out Hyde’s rage.
But she didn’t stand a chance against her own.
Chapter XVIII
Rick’s questioning was relentless. He wanted to know everything, including why Landon had taken so long to come out of her office and why he looked so frazzled when he did. Rick didn’t get the story he’d wanted. And at this point, neither had Landon.
Other than two trips to the bathroom and a quick patrol, he didn’t leave the security room. He barely took his eyes off the monitor with a view of her lab. She’d gone there almost immediately after he’d left her office. She was busy doing something, but it wasn’t using the phone.
Point for her. Once he knew what had put that look on her face and made her recant, she might get another point. Or she might be stripped of all her earnings and be exactly who he’d originally thought she was. Only time and a subtle interrogation over a big breakfast would tell.
When it was time for his ‘lunch’ break, he decided to see if he could start their discussion early. At least he hadn’t been killed yet. Did she earn another point for that?
When he knocked this time, she opened the door right away.
“Do you have time for a walk?” he asked.
“Outside? Um…sure. Just let me…I can’t find my phone.”
“I’ll help you look.” Shockingly, he found it about thirty seconds later. “This it?”
“I thought I looked there.”
“Sometimes what you’re looking for is right in front of you, but it takes someone else to help you see it.”
She took it from his outstretched hand, having no idea that he’d already looked through it on one of his bathroom runs. No one puts surveillance equipment in the stalls of a men’s room.
He hadn’t found anything particularly incriminating. Her contact list was short and almost everyone’s name had a ‘Dr’ prefix. Steve Harris wasn’t there or Bradford, Fuller, Jolie, Fields, or Alex. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or disappointed that none of the numbers began with a South Florida area code. But he’d copied down as many as he could anyway and would check them out later.
“Shall we?” he asked.
“Skip to the sex? No. You should eat your lunch.” Her smile made him need a few deep breaths. The woman exuded confidence without arrogance—maybe because she could back it up.
Knock it off, idiot. If his libido got in the way of reaching his goal, he’d have more than just his conscience to worry about—he’d have to deal with Eden. The idea of getting his ass kicked by his teammate, who was also a girl, who would also have a really good reason to do it, quelled his lust en
tirely.
They stopped in a lounge area where Sinclair got a cup of coffee and he grabbed a sandwich and a soda out of the vending machine. Her eyes were probably getting sore from glancing at him sideways so often, but they said very little until they were outside. Once Landon felt comfortable with the distance from the building, they talked. Slowly at first—friendly, getting-to-know-you type shit. Feeling each other out in a purely platonic way. Landon asked simple questions, building trust, hoping he was coming off as interested and not stalkerish.
When she stopped talking, he knew she was waiting for him to offer up some information as proof he wasn’t lying to her. Something made quite difficult by the fact that he was lying to her.
But he gave—a mixture of vague truths and outright lies.
From the fairly obvious: Staying undercover is really tough when your badge accidentally falls out of your pocket.
To the vague and fraudulent: References to things about Malvers Labs that anyone with a computer could find, their pharmaceuticals, and most of what he knew about GU-121. But these bits of information were whispered, as if they’d come directly out of a file stamped ‘FDA’.
All the way to the truth-and-nothing-but-the: His team had been working on this case for a while, but they were completely out of leads, time, and energy. And office morale wasn’t all that great either.
The things he gave wide berth to were: What happened in Florida and anything involving criminal behavior—which was almost everything. But whatever he said or didn’t say seemed to calm her.
Finally, she stopped him. “Why are we really here?”
“Metaphysically? No idea. Although I’ve always considered the Buddhists—”
“I looked you up. Well, I looked up Landon Nicolas.”
Oh, shit. He thought he’d have longer than this—at least another day. Because people rarely do more work than they’re required to do. Especially in the middle of the night.
Strange Case, an Urban Fantasy (Hyde Book III) Page 14
