by C. B. Lewis
Well, the bridges were already burning….
“Full English.”
Kit’s face lit up. “A wise choice, sir,” he said, doing up the last button. “I find a full English brings out one’s cholesterol.” He waved a hand toward the rest of the living room. “Have a seat. I’ll bring it through when it’s ready.”
Left to his own devices, Jacob took the chance to examine the room by daylight.
There were a few photographs on the wall. It looked like Kit with his mother in most of them, though there were a couple of group shots. There weren’t many other personal touches, though. The apartment seemed to be given over to engineering. Boxes of equipment were tucked here and there. Sketches and schematics were stacked on shelves.
A closer look at the coffee table made Jacob stop short. In the middle of the chaos of wires and tools, there was an object that wasn’t unlike the small machines in the Sanders house.
Jacob sat down on the couch and picked up the tangle of metals and wires, turning it over in his hands. He had no idea what it was or what it was a part of, but it looked almost identical to the devices that had been hanging on the edge of the whiteboard.
“Scrambled or fried?” Kit called through from the kitchen.
“Whatever you like.” Jacob took out his quill and scanned and imaged the device. It wasn’t as if he could pass the information to the team, but later, he could at least compare the machines.
It was only then that he saw the notification of a missed call and a message received late the previous night.
He flicked the message open.
It was from Luke and simply read: Congratulations on the sex.
There were even little fireworks going off around the text.
Jacob smothered a groan. Thankfully, when he did venture on dates, Luke didn’t press for too much information. He just sent a thumbs-up in reply, waited for a moment, and when there was no response, he shut it down again.
His quill was away and the machine was back where he’d found it when Kit came through a few minutes later, carrying two generously stacked plates of food.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he said, offering one of the plates.
“Starved.” Jacob glanced around. “Is there a dining table or do we just eat here?”
Kit grinned. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t even have a sofa,” he said, sprawling comfortably against the arm. “Beanbags or pillow piles for preference.”
Jacob snorted. “You just want to be a sultan in his harem.”
Kit arched his eyebrows. He deliberately skewered a sausage on his fork and gave the end a suggestive lick, but he barely lasted five seconds before bursting out laughing. “Yeah. Maybe a bit.”
Jacob cut into his breakfast with the fork. After taking several mouthfuls, he nodded to the coffee table. “What are you working on?” he asked, as casually as he could.
Kit’s eyes flicked to the table, then back. Color spread out from the middle of his chest, upward and downward. It was an impressive blush. He shoved some egg into his mouth and chewed, and if that wasn’t a tactic to give himself time to think of an answer, then Jacob knew he was the King of Spain.
“Just some bits and pieces for work,” Kit finally replied, meeting his eyes. “I’m working on a new door function. I’m… probably not meant to have it lying around at home.” It sounded like the truth, but there was something in Kit’s expression that said it wasn’t the whole truth.
Jacob sliced his egg with the side of his fork. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that Kit worked on technology similar to Sanders’s, but he still wasn’t any closer to finding out exactly what it was that Sanders did. It looked like Kit didn’t want to answer more questions about it either. He was wolfing down his food, as if to encourage Jacob to eat his own breakfast faster.
Jacob didn’t hurry. No need to give himself indigestion.
“Are you working this morning?” he asked.
Kit nodded distractedly, mopping up a smear of egg yolk with his toast. “I left early yesterday. Probably should go in a bit earlier today.”
Oh yes. There was something about that object on the table that he didn’t want to be asked about. He was suddenly too abrupt, making too much of the fact he was in a hurry and had places to be. He must have forgotten he’d left it out, or never expected it to be noticed.
Out of pity, Jacob set the plate down half-finished. It was already more than he normally ate for breakfast anyway. “I’ll leave you to get ready, then,” he said.
Kit was as good at hiding his emotions as he was at hiding his blushes. The relief made his whole body relax, and he scrambled to his feet, smiling. “And you’ll have time to get changed too, you dirty stop-out.”
Jacob reached for his coat. “And whose fault is that?”
Kit was abruptly right in front of him and caught him by the shirt, pulling him closer to kiss him firmly on the lips. “Well, I didn’t make you trip and fall naked on the balcony, did I?” he said, grinning. He rubbed the tip of his nose against Jacob’s. “Thanks for a memorable evening, Detective Inspector.”
Jacob winced. “Just Jacob here. Not work.”
Kit laughed, patting him on the middle of his chest. “I can do that,” he agreed, and claimed a last kiss. “Off with you, Jacob.”
It wasn’t until Jacob was standing in the hall, the door closed behind him, that he could breathe easily again. He looked at his coat, held between his hands, then back at the door of Kit’s apartment.
One night.
That was all he could allow.
That was all he would allow.
It had been nice, just having company during the night again, even if it technically could get him suspended. They’d laughed a lot, and the sex hadn’t been half bad. Kit was cheerful and enthusiastic, not to mention imaginative. It had been a good night.
He stepped into the elevator and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.
His focus had to be back on the case. Kit’s coffee table had helped there. The device he was working on was clearly important enough for him to get in trouble for having it outside of the office. It looked advanced, and if that was the standard thing Sanders was working on, who was to say they hadn’t been working on other synthetic items? Eyes, for example.
It would explain a lot if the TRI were secretly developing advanced technology. It would definitely explain why Sanders would have been targeted. It would make a hell of a lot more sense than a rogue cyborg beaming in and getting brained with a hammer.
Jacob rubbed at his eyelids with finger and thumb.
Something had to start making sense sooner or later.
Chapter 14
KIT MADE an effort to keep his head down as soon as he got into the office.
He’d enjoyed the night with Jacob, right up until the moment that Jacob noticed the pieces of the temporal gate lying on his coffee table. It was true they didn’t look like anything significant, but all it would take was Jacob saying something to Mariam and the TRI would know he’d been playing with a gate at home.
It wasn’t as if he’d technically stolen anything from the building itself. He was using parts he already had, pieces of other experiments. And it wasn’t as if he were taking the blueprints home with him either. He just had a good memory for the details, and how did they expect him to develop new features if he didn’t tinker in the comfort of his own home?
Still, he went straight to his workstation in the office, got his tools, and headed down to the gate room to take up where he’d left off the day before. It felt safer to stay out of the way for a while. Hamid found him down there an hour later, screwdriver gripped between his teeth.
“You’re in early today.”
Kit nodded with a grunt, reconnecting a wire. “Work to do,” he said, taking the screwdriver out of his mouth. He glanced back at Hamid. “You’re out of your office. Is the world ending or something?”
“Mariam was looking for you. Reg said he saw you come in and head down he
re. We didn’t want to startle you, in case you put a hole in the grid.”
Kit stared blankly at him. It felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. “What’s it about?”
Hamid shrugged. “Didn’t say. She didn’t look pleased.”
Kit’s mouth felt dry. There was no way anyone from the office could know anything. Not unless a certain person who had been on a night out had also spilled what he’d seen.
“Oh.”
Hamid nodded toward the doorway. “I was trying to be subtle, Kit. Get your arse up there.”
“But this needs to be finished—” he began.
“It can be finished after,” Hamid replied. “She’s already stressed out of her mind. Don’t make things worse.”
Reluctantly, Kit closed the hatch on the gateway and set down his tools. “Fine. Take me up.”
Mariam wasn’t in her office when they got there, but Hamid insisted that Kit should wait. He left him there, closing the door. Kit sat on the edge of the chair, squeezing his hands together between his knees, hoping to goodness that he wasn’t in trouble.
Mariam returned less than five minutes later. “Oh good. You’re here.”
“Um. Yes. Hamid said you wanted me?”
She rubbed her forehead as she sat down. “Yes.” He didn’t know if she was actually paler than usual or if it was the deep purple hijab that was making her look it. “That detective wants you down at the police station.”
Kit was turning puce, he just knew it. He could remember several things Jacob had wanted, and none of them were anything he wanted his employers to know about. “Oh?” It came out as a squeak.
She didn’t seem to notice his expression or his color. “They have some items they need to confirm as Sanders’s work. DI Ofori asked if we can send one of our engineers down to check what they have and see if there’s anything there that shouldn’t be.”
Kit felt like he was listening through a pillow. “What?”
Mariam spread her hands. “I don’t know. Apparently, they have hard evidence, and before they can release the scene, they need to know whether they’re holding anything that may have belonged to the attackers.”
As excuses went, it was pretty flimsy.
Jesus Christ, he was going to kick Jacob so hard.
“When?” he asked, clamping his hands together. His palms were cold and wet.
“As soon as possible.” She sighed. “Since you’re our foremost expert on Tom’s latest developments, you’re the best man for the job. I’ll call a taxi-pod. You just make yourself presentable, and be careful what you say to the detective inspector. He’s a smart one. He might get more out of you than you expect.”
Bloody understatement there.
“Yeah.” Kit swallowed hard. “Keep things basic, right? Like Hamid said?”
Within ten minutes, he was being escorted down to the lobby. Within twenty, he was in a taxi-pod and halfway to the police station.
Kit watched the city slipping by. Nothing to be nervous about at all. Just a man who was only meant to be a one-night stand bringing him in to be an active part of an investigation.
The police station was a state-of-the-art building. Dozens of floors, glass walls, and the security in the entranceway was enough to make him feel ill. It was like walking into a top-range cage, even if he was only going in as a consultant.
The officer on reception had his name.
He was taken up in a lift to the seventh floor. All the way up, his hands were clenching and unclenching. It wasn’t just the situation or the lift or the fact he had no idea what he was walking into. It was every bit of it combining into a massive knot of panic.
He was led through a series of halls and into a vast room. There were images projected up on one wall, including pictures of Sanders, his house, and things that Kit didn’t want to look too closely at. A couple of officers glanced up with interest as he was led through, and one even nodded in greeting.
Kit kept his mouth tightly shut and his hands in fists. Easier to look blank than to try and play it cool.
There was an office at the far end of the room. There were blinds closed on the windows, concealing the occupant. He was led straight there.
Jacob was sitting behind a desk and rose at once. He looked different in his office, sterner, more professional. Even the top button of his shirt was done up, and his tie was fastened. “Mr. Rafferty,” he said. “Mrs. Ashraf let me know you’d be coming.”
Kit smiled, but not enough to show any teeth. “I was sent. I didn’t really have a choice.” He took a breath and released it as the door closed behind him. “Is this room soundproof?”
“Not really.”
Kit strode across the room, leaning down over the desk, and hissed where he wished he could shout. “What the hell am I doing here? You know I didn’t want any part in this! Why the hell did you ask for me?”
Jacob looked at Kit’s hands, spread on the desk, then up at him. “I asked for the best engineer,” he said. “The one who would be most likely to crack Sanders’s code and know his technology. I didn’t ask for you.”
Kit stared at him. “Bullshit! You knew it would be me!”
Jacob leaned across the desk toward him. “And how would I know that?” His voice was even. “You’re one of a dozen engineers. As far as I knew, you’re just one little cog in a machine. Nothing all that special in the grand scheme….”
Maybe it was the nerves or the fact that the bastard was speaking down at him like a child. Kit couldn’t be sure why, but his hand moved of its own accord and he slapped Jacob sharply across the face.
Kit recoiled, and they stared at each other across the desk. “Did I just assault a police officer?” he asked weakly.
“Technically.” Jacob sighed and rubbed at his cheek. He looked wound up tight again, a deep line between his eyebrows. “Look, I’m sorry about this, but what was I meant to say to her? ‘Don’t send that one. It would be awkward since he had his dick up me last night.’?”
Kit subsided into the chair opposite him. “I didn’t think about that….”
“Mm.” Jacob massaged the middle of his forehead with two fingers. “Since you’re here now, we’re going to have to make the best of it. Keep things casual. You going to be able to do that? Without smacking me in the chops again?”
Kit nodded self-consciously. “Sorry. I… it’s a bit mental at work just now.” He shifted his weight on the chair. “You know she could have probably answered your questions, don’t you? Identified stuff from the labs?”
Jacob tapped his fingertips on the edge of the table. “We weren’t sure,” he said evasively. “We wanted people who would know and give us a straight answer.”
It was a strange way to put it, and Kit frowned. “You think Mariam wouldn’t?”
Jacob shrugged. “She plays her cards too close to the chest.”
Of course she does, Kit wanted to say. Everyone at the TRI has to. It’s one of the clauses you sign. Mariam was brilliant at keeping secrets. She would have been a better person to sit in front of a policeman with big dark eyes and a weary look on his face. She wouldn’t have felt bad for causing him problems. Anyone else in the TRI would have been better.
Trouble was that he liked Jacob. It was very difficult to lie to a man you liked.
Kit squeezed his hands between his knees until the skin went pale. “I won’t be able to explain everything,” he said finally. “I’m only an engineer. I don’t know what goes on behind the scenes. But if I can tell you something, I will.”
The tight lines on Jacob’s face softened, and he sighed, relieved. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Kit sat back on his chair. “Purely professionally.”
“Of course.”
“No mention of last night.”
Jacob nodded. “As far as the world knows, we have only met in your office and here.”
Kit nodded slowly. “Okay.” He unfolded his hands, spreading them on his thighs. “What do you need me to look a
t?”
Jacob rose from behind his desk. “Follow me.”
They went down a long corridor, passed a dozen doors. Jacob swiped a pass at one of the doors and led him into a plain room. The walls were white, and there was nothing of value visible, but there were two cameras attached to the ceiling. A secure room, then. There was also a workbench in the middle with a collection of evidence packets.
Jacob offered him a pair of rubber gloves. “Just as a precaution,” he said.
Kit nodded, pulling them on. “Bring it.”
Jacob opened one of the packets and withdrew a piece of a temporal gate that looked almost identical to the piece he’d nodded to on Kit’s coffee table that morning. Kit felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at it, then looked up at Jacob.
There had to be a reason that was the first one.
Jacob had seen it, without knowing what it was, and now that he could ask, he wanted to know more.
“Do you know what this is?” The man in front of him was more police officer and less the man he had spent the night with. He looked sterner, suspicious, almost dangerous. Kit could only nod mutely. “It’s definitely Sanders’s work?”
“Yes.” Kit’s mouth felt dry as a bone.
“You’re sure?”
Kit braced his fingertips on the edge of the table. “Yes. He designed it.”
To his shock, Jacob nodded and slipped it back into the evidence packet. “Good. We weren’t sure. The place was a mess when we got there.” He reached for the next packet and opened it up. “What about this?”
Kit felt like he was walking on cracking ice. “You really just want me to identify things?”
Jacob met his eyes. “You know what you’re talking about,” he said. “We have a whole pile of items that were scattered at the scene, and we don’t know if they’re his or his assailant’s. You might be one of the few people who can tell.”
Kit’s legs were shaking under him. “I can do that.” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t be sure it worked. “What’s next?”
