She hadn’t called back yet. Standing in the bustling downtown lobby, I wondered what to do. When I’d quit last week, I’d thrown my ID badge at her. As a result, I’d been reduced to just another visitor.
After I cleared the visitor’s security check, I hopped on the elevator to the top floor. If Olivia wanted me back so damn bad, she could have returned my call. Since she hadn’t, she’d have to deal with my unscheduled arrival.
The elevator stopped on the second floor, and a petite woman about my age got on. Anna had been the lab technician who’d worked on the case with me and Andre.
I steeled myself for questions about my sudden departure, but Anna threw me a genuine smile. “Hey, Jess. I didn’t know you were back. Did they find a new case to bring you in on?”
She didn’t know. She had no clue about how I’d stormed out or why.
I let out a breath, discreetly I hoped. Anna was reminding me of what my conscience had been whispering for days—that I shouldn’t condemn the entire Gryphon organization for the actions of a few.
Truth was, there was no reason Anna should know what happened regarding my leaving. Based on the little I knew myself, my entire existence was top-secret stuff. None of which was Anna’s fault, or Bridget’s, or probably even Olivia Lee’s. It was hardly right of me to hold a grudge against any of them for it.
No, my grudge—make that my very righteous fury—should be directed at the group within the Gryphons behind this. The Brotherhood of the Wing.
But making that distinction emotionally, not just logically, wasn’t easy. Especially because the Gryphons were a good target. I’d already felt spurned by them when they’d denied me entry for being a magical freak, and then they’d come after me when I was framed for murder. In both cases they’d been doing their jobs, but knowing that didn’t lessen the sting.
Hell, knowing that some of them had been responsible for turning me into a freak, which was why I’d been denied entry, which had led me to engage in activities that had gotten me framed for murder… Well, that made it harder.
Still, not Anna’s fault.
My body remained tense, although I tried to cover up my misplaced angst. “Yeah, looks like I’m going to be working on a case that came down last night.”
“Great! Maybe we’ll get to work together again.” She got off one floor below me.
Stepping out on the fifth floor, I squared my shoulders and checked my surroundings. A couple people nodded at me, but no one seemed all that concerned or interested in my presence. Possibly they recognized me from my recent stint here.
I took off down the hall toward Olivia’s grand office, and was waylaid at last as I approached by her perky receptionist.
“She’s in a meeting,” the woman told me, “and I don’t have you on her calendar.”
“Find time.” I plopped on one of the chairs by the door. “She’s been asking to see me.”
The receptionist started to say something else, but she cut off as two large doors on the other side of the reception area opened and out walked none other than the director herself.
“Jessica.” Olivia peered down on me with disapproval. She held up a finger in my direction, and I snapped my lips shut without uttering a word. Sure, I’d wait.
Behind her, three other people emerged from what appeared to be a conference room. The two humans were unfamiliar to me, but the magus bore a face I’d seen before and had never wished to see again.
Xander, the magus in question, was a falcon shifter with bright red plumage on his head and an expensive suit on his body. He was a liaison to important political people within the state, and a plain old self-important jackass. Our first and only run-in had not gone well.
I clenched my teeth in anticipation, but he cast not so much as a disparaging glance my way before striding off. Either he didn’t recognize me, or he simply hadn’t thought a woman in jeans and a T-shirt was worth his attention.
Win for me.
Olivia finished exchanging pleasantries with her companions and turned my way as they left. “Let’s talk.”
I popped to my feet. “That’s why I’m here.”
I followed her into her office, tasting the strange blend of generalized unhappiness she was feeling. So much was going on in her emotions that I couldn’t sort it out, but it tasted awful.
“Have a seat.” Olivia took her own recommendation, and she faced me from across her large desk. Small in comparison to it, she nonetheless radiated authority and a don’t-mess-with-me attitude that I admired even if I didn’t personally like her. She tucked strands of graying black hair behind her ears and got down to business. “I got your message last night, or should I say this morning.”
I adopted the same attitude. “But you didn’t call back.”
“I didn’t see the point. I’d been calling you and you weren’t responding.”
I almost rolled my eyes but managed restraint. “So you were getting revenge?”
“I think we can both be more mature than that. If you were going to follow through and return today, I assumed that you’d do it on your own time.” Disapproval weighed down her voice.
I shrugged. “The only reason I’m back is because of what happened last night.”
“That’s another reason I hadn’t returned your call.” She closed her eyes, and for a second I saw her stress etched clearly over her face. Then she pulled herself together. “Being as famous as he is, what happened to Mr. Marshall has become a rather large and popular topic in the media. As I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Actually, I wasn’t. I haven’t checked the news all morning.”
“Lucky you.” Olivia waved a hand around idly. “There were over fifty witnesses at that bookstore yesterday. The story of what happened is all over the news stations and Internet. There’s even video. Multiple people were using their phones to record his reading at the time.”
“And they made the recordings public?” Stay classy, Boston.
Olivia’s face was a mask of distaste. “When don’t people share everything these days? Anyway, as you can imagine, it’s been a busy day around here. We haven’t had to deal with such a high-profile case in years. The last time anything with this much gossip potential occurred it was about that actress who got caught planting curses on a baseball team.”
I remembered the incident although it had happened several years ago, and it wasn’t baseball, but basketball. Selena Troy had sold her soul to a harpy for her big break, and the harpy had used her to try to take down the Lakers over some complicated gambling deal. “It wasn’t this office that had to handle it, was it?”
“No, thankfully. That was the L.A. office, but this office does have to handle Eric Marshall. So we’ve been busy.”
I clasped my hands together. “Good thing I’m here to help.”
Judging by Olivia’s expression she wasn’t so sure about that. “Yes, I’ve been informed that Agent Nelson requested your assistance.”
Thank you, Bridget. I think. If nothing else, she’d kept her word. “Eric’s cousin is a good friend of mine. You could say the family has requested my personal involvement.”
Olivia took a deep breath and tossed a hefty manila file folder my way. “You need to sign a new consultant agreement and fill out those forms again. Given the way you left, I had to make sure your clearances were formally revoked. Also, turn in your request for a new protective charm to Agent Nelson, and she’ll make sure it gets passed down to the lab. You can have your old cube back.”
I opened the folder. My former badge was clipped to the agreement. “Great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So does this mean I’m officially working with Bridget on Eric’s case?”
Olivia leaned forward. “Yes, but let me explain two more things.” She raised her index finger. “One. Gryphon policy is to not allow agents with
a personal connection to a specific case to get involved. I’m making an allowance in this situation since the family has requested your assistance, you were a witness to what happened, and this is such a high-profile case that I want to use every resource we can spare. That includes you and your dubious contacts in Shadowtown.”
Dubious? Wait until someone in HR discovered my updated contact information included a Shadowtown mailing address. “And the second thing?”
“Again, this is high profile. It’s entirely possible that during the course of the investigation you’ll get people from the media asking questions and pressuring you for information. If you do, let Agent Nelson handle it. She knows where to direct those inquiries. All you do is tell people to talk to her. Got it?”
Where to direct those inquiries—sounded like code for the trash bin.
“Got it. The less people I have to talk to, the happier I am anyway.”
A shadow of a smile appeared on Olivia’s face. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Taking that as my dismissal, I got up. “Should I drop the rest of these forms off in HR later?”
“Yes. And, Jessica? One more thing.” Olivia stood. “Whatever your issue is with Agent Kassin? It doesn’t concern me. Next time, leave me and this office out of it.”
I gritted my teeth, but since I’d just been pondering the same thing on my way here, I managed to nod rather stiffly. “Understood.”
Olivia’s dark eyes were hard. “I hope so because I want to be clear. My responsibility is overseeing the Boston Office. And Kassin, although he’s been working out of it, does not report to me. After you stormed out of here, I made some calls because he refused to speak to me about it. I was shut out fast and told this was above my clearance. Since I’m not allowed to know what’s going on, I have absolutely no interest in being caught in the middle again. Now do you understand?”
Though Olivia kept her voice controlled, I tasted the heat of her anger. I couldn’t blame her. Yet interestingly, her anger didn’t seem directed quite as much at me as it was at whoever had told her to fuck off.
I nodded. “I apologize for taking it out on you. I didn’t realize at the time…” Hadn’t been thinking straight, more like. “Didn’t realize who or what was responsible for the issue. I’m still angry with the Gryphon organization, but not everyone in it. I just want to stay away from Tom Kassin.”
Surprisingly, Olivia seemed mollified by my response. She probably hadn’t anticipated an apology.
For that matter, neither had I until one left my mouth. Who knew? I could be reasonable, after all.
“Then you’ll be pleased to know Agent Kassin left for World soon after you quit. Although I suspect he’ll be back. He left a lot of his belongings here.”
Well, wasn’t that interesting. I’d told Tom to fuck off, and he did, in fact, fuck off and run back home. No doubt straight to his creepy fraternity to get his orders for what to do next. Olivia was right about that. No question—Tom would be back, and he and his superiors weren’t likely to be done with me.
But for the moment, at least, I could breathe easier. Tom was on the other side of the Atlantic, in France. That left me room to think about more important things, like why I was here.
Another thing I should be thinking about? Where I was going. As Olivia’s door closed, I realized I didn’t know where to report.
Shifting my grip on the file folder, I decided the paperwork was a good place to start. Olivia said I had my former desk back, so I went downstairs to where my cubby had been located. Much as I didn’t like sitting around and filling out stupid forms, I wasn’t sure anyone would let me touch the case until I did. Besides, Bridget might have a clue where to find me if I stayed put.
I clipped on my badge and found my cube much as I left it. With some amusement, I noted that someone had retrieved the Gryphon windbreaker I’d once asked for—and then had thrown at Olivia on my way out the door. It was draped over the back of the chair.
That saved me the embarrassment of asking for it back.
There were no notes from Bridget or anyone else, and I’d been locked out of the computer as Olivia had hinted. So I got to work on form after form with a pen I found in the desk drawer. Ten minutes into this, as I was recalling that I had a phone and could have texted Bridget, she showed up.
“Knock, knock.” She had her light brown hair pulled into a tidy bun today, but instead of it looking formal or elegant, with her serious face, she looked about twenty years older than her age. “Director Lee told me you were here. Ready to go into a briefing?”
“And tear myself away from all this?” I held up the folder. “Please, yes.”
Bridget smiled. Barely. But that was so very Bridget.
“It’s nice to finally work together,” she said as we entered one of the boring conference rooms. “Maybe nice isn’t the right word under the circumstances, but you know what I mean.”
“That’s kind of the hazard in your line of work, isn’t it? I mean, Gryphons don’t get involved in things when they’re all rainbows and kittens.”
She acknowledged the point with a shake of her shoulders. “True.”
There was one other guy in the room already, and he held out a hand to me. “Wes,” he said, then followed it up with a last name that I couldn’t possibly repeat without making a fool of myself for trying.
“Wes is our lab lead on the case,” Bridget explained, taking a seat.
Aha. So I wouldn’t be working with Anna this time.
Wes stretched out in his chair, his fingers sweeping through his black hair. “Not for long.”
“Why not?” Bridget asked.
“You won’t need me. Magically speaking, this is a simple case.”
“Well, that’s a nice change.” The conference room door opened, and one of the assistant directors entered. Brian, whose last name I couldn’t remember, had been the supervisor on the last case I’d worked on. He dropped into a chair at the head of the table. “Let’s get this wrapped up as fast as possible then. I’ve got goddamned journalists from as far as Germany calling.”
Bridget groaned. “One way or another, I suspect this will be fast. But Wes should probably go first with the lab results in case I’m wrong.”
“Nope, don’t think so. I’ve got nothing to report.” Wes switched on the blank screen on the far end of the room to show his analysis results. “Marshall’s magic profile was completely normal. For an addict-turned-ghoul, that is. No anomalies. I could have pulled these results from any dozen ghouls roaming Shadowtown’s streets.”
Brian scratched his chin thoughtfully. “So what the hell happened? Nelson?”
Bridget passed out some papers, but I only glanced at them. “I did some research this morning and confirmed the theory I shared with Jess last night. There are several accounts of preds draining addicts quickly and completely. There haven’t been any reported cases of it happening in the U.S. for years, but unless someone knew about it and filed a report, we wouldn’t know. Odds are, it’s happened without our awareness.”
“How does that work?” Wes asked. “Each race feeds on specific emotions. Just draining someone of all their emotions at once doesn’t seem like it would cut it.”
“I had the same question,” I said.
Bridget glanced between the two of us. “I’m not sure of the answer. It’s true each pred race draws power best from a particular emotion, but they can feed off any negativity. So my best guess is that this would be far from ideal, but still feasible.”
“Kind of like eating processed food instead of fresh?” I suggested.
Wes laughed. “Canned greed. Yum.”
Brian wasn’t amused. “And so now what?”
Bridget tapped her papers. “According to my research, the pred who did this couldn’t have used up all of Marshall’s soul immediately. It would have to be stored somewhere
. Depending on how far gone Marshall was in his addiction at the time, we should have anywhere from five days to two weeks to get it back. After that, it’s impossible to return it. Jess identified Marshall as a greed addict. So we know who to start questioning.”
“That narrows it down, but not by much.” Brian pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “You know how many goblins we have in this city? We need Marshall’s contract.”
Bridget sighed. “I’ve been working on it. So far as I can discover, his next of kin is a brother. I’ve tried calling him several times and have gotten nowhere. I left him two messages—one last night and one this morning.”
“And you need his brother, why?” I asked.
“Like Brian said, to get his contract.”
“You can’t get a warrant?”
“We can’t even prove a crime has been committed yet. A pred letting an addict turn into a ghoul isn’t illegal in most situations, and with Marshall in the state he’s in, legally speaking he’s as good as dead. Once his brother gets the court to acknowledge that Marshall’s a ghoul, he takes over the estate, and that’s just a legal formality at this point. We learned this morning that his brother has already initiated proceedings. So if he wants to, he could cause a stink if we go barging into Marshall’s house without his permission. Remember, we’re dealing with a high-profile case. It would be best if we could get his cooperation.”
I tapped my pen against Bridget’s handouts. “You said yourself—there’s not a lot of time. Sitting around playing nice with his family is putting Eric at risk.”
“You have a better idea?” Brian asked.
I quit fidgeting with the pen. “Maybe. From what I’ve heard of them, Eric’s family is likely to be a pain in the ass. But I know someone who is family and who wants to help, and she has a key.”
Bridget tidied up her papers, frowning. “That’s not technically legal at this point. Marshall’s estate is in limbo.”
[M__M 03] Misery Loves Company Page 5
