In My Skin

by Shannon McKenna

  Dani cursed under her breath, using the sleeve of the enormous sweatshirt to angrily wipe away the tears that just kept coming.

  She’d never had much luck with love or sex. She gave it a try now and again, when she got the chance or the urge, but somehow it never panned out. Now Fate was dangling this beautiful guy in front of her. Tough, sweet, brave, smart. Amazing in bed. But Fate just jerked him right back like a cat toy. Whoopsy-daisy, and the joke was on her.

  That beautiful guy was so far out of his right mind, he didn’t even know his own goddamn last name.

  * * * *

  Luke waited grimly, stuck on line at the big clothing store. The food was already in the car. He’d picked up several burner phones for Dani, a money belt for documents and cash that she could wear under her clothes, and the stuff he needed to program a key fob for her, so she could drive his car. She’d have a chance to bolt, even if someone wasted him. Some clothes and shoes and she’d be covered, at least for now.

  But this was taking for-fucking-ever. Twelve minutes and counting, while the one available cashier dealt with a sour old lady who wanted to return a sweat suit that already sported a large coffee stain. The manager was called. Accusations were made about when the coffee had been spilled. Voices were raised. And the whole thing went to shit.

  When they finally worked it out, he dumped his items onto the belt. The girl at the register gave him an owl-eyed look as she swiped barcodes and filled a big plastic bag. He barely noticed her, being too busy monitoring thirty camera feeds in real time while also trying not to be creepy and spy on Dani.

  One of the door alarms went red. He zeroed in on it.

  He saw Dani running out of the house, carrying a gasoline can. Car keys sticking out of her hands. She was bolting. Panic exploded inside him.

  “That’ll be three hundred and eighteen dollars!” the girl said.

  Luke flung some bills at her, grabbed the shopping bag and ran.

  “Sir? Sir? Your receipt! You gave me, like, four hundred bucks! Hey! I gotta give you your change! Hold on!”

  His own goddamn fault for being a self-indulgent asshole, telling Dani too much. He’d freaked her out. Scared her off. It’d be on him if she walked right back into Obsidian’s wide open crocodile mouth. Fuck.

  If she’d been in the Porsche, he would have been able to stop her in a heartbeat, but he didn’t have any hold on that fucking Toyota. There was no computer system in that antique thing for him to hack.

  She was speeding to her doom. If the truck itself didn’t fall to zombie pieces right under her on the highway.

  And she had a thirty-five-minute lead on him.

  Chapter 13

  Dani parked on the shoulder of the highway, pointing downhill in case the battery conked out. If she could roll, maybe she could restart the engine.

  Getting out, she took the time to pour the rest of the gas into the tank. Fingers crossed it got her all the way back to Munro Valley.

  She had to reconnect with the world right now. Get the cops on board. There could still be corpses in her living room for all she knew. She was grateful that she wasn’t due at the hospital for a shift today, so she didn’t have to call her supervisor at the hospital. Not yet, at least.

  The clerk inside was a young guy with a struggling beard. She glanced quickly his name-tag. Richie.

  She gave him a big smile. “Hey. Maybe you can help me. My boyfriend ran out on me with my purse in his car. I took his truck, but it keeps stalling and I’m going to need a tow. Could I use your phone?”

  Richie gave her a dull, clouded look, eyes lingering on her tits. She arched her back a little to make the most of them.

  “I’m just so scared to walk by the highway dressed like this, you know?” she said. “Anything could happen.”

  “OK. I guess.” He picked up a grubby smartphone, tapped to unlock it, and slid it across the counter to her. The touchscreen was blurry with finger grease.

  She quickly looked up the number for the Munro Valley police and placed the call, moving away from the clerk and turning her back. Fortunately a delivery guy showed up right then, hauling a hand truck in the door backward to bring in some boxes. That distracted the clerk as the call went through.

  “Hi, I’m Dani LaSalle and I need to get in touch with Detective Willis,” she said. “I have information about one of his cases. It’s urgent.”

  Put on hold, she kept herself busy trying to force the loose toe plug of her flip-flop to stay put. Nothing doing. The rip in the rubber sole was too big. If there was duct tape in the truck, she could manage a fix.

  “Willis here.”

  The detective’s voice was brisk. She forced hers to stay calm. “This is Dani LaSalle. We spoke when I was leaving the ER.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  She hesitated. Might as well get to the point. “I was attacked last night. When I got home from the hospital.”

  “Are you injured? Do you need an ambulance?”

  “No, I’m OK. I’m not in Munro Valley at the moment.”

  “Oh. Can you tell me who attacked you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “There were five of them. But there was, um…a guy at my house. He defended me. He killed a couple of them.”

  “A guy. Is he still with you?”

  “Not any longer, no,” she admitted. She hated the way all of this must sound to him. It had crazy spray-painted all over it.

  “Who was it that helped you?” Willis asked.

  “Well—I don’t know his name.” Pretty much true. Luke himself didn’t know his own name. His last name, at least.

  “And you just left with him,” Willis said slowly. “A man whose name you don’t know. Who killed people in your house. Right in front of you.”

  “He was defending me,” she explained. “Look, I know this must sound strange, but he convinced me that more attackers were on the way.”

  The detective didn’t answer right away. Thinking it over, maybe. Or putting her on speaker so others could hear. Or recording the conversation. “Do you know why you were attacked, Ms. LaSalle?” he asked finally.

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Let’s back up. You said you’re not at home. Then where are you? Do you feel you’re in danger now?”

  Dani was silent, suddenly struck by the thought that Luke might already be on law enforcement radar for reasons she didn’t know.

  The detective persisted. “Can I call you at this number?”

  “This isn’t my phone,” she said.

  “I see.”

  “Look, I’m heading back now. I just wanted you to know that my house is a blood bath,” she went on.

  “We’re aware of that,” Willis said. “Your neighbor Millicent Blum called us this morning. From your house.”

  Dani gasped, horrified. “Oh, no! Was she, ah…”

  “Not injured. Upset, yes. Extremely so. Which is understandable.”

  “Did Millie see the bodies?”

  “There were no bodies, Ms. LaSalle. Just a great deal of blood. Where are you now?”

  She had to tell him something. She glanced over at the clerk. “Excuse me. Where am I? What’s the nearest town?”

  “Goforth is the closest,” Richie said. “Coupla miles down this road.”

  “I’m near Goforth,” she told Willis.

  “Do you have any idea who might have moved these alleged bodies?”

  Alleged? “Ah, no. I don’t,” she said.

  “Hmm. Then think about it. Come in as soon as possible.”

  “The minute I’m back,” she assured him.

  She ended the call and saw the clerk staring at her again. She gave him another dazzling smile. “One more call, please? To my aunt? She’s eighty, and she’ll be so worried about me. Do you mind?”

  “OK. But just a se
c. I wanna check my texts first.”

  He did, and then let his puffy fingers drag damply across her hand as he gave the phone back. She dialed Millie’s number, which she knew by heart.

  “Hello?” Millie’s cracked, anxious voice came on the line.

  “Millie, it’s Dani.”

  “Oh, my goodness, girl! I thought you’d been killed! Or kidnapped! When I saw all that blood, I just—well, never mind. You’re alive. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t really know yet. I was attacked at my house, but I’m OK. A guy came to my rescue, and then took me with him after. He said more attackers would be coming.”

  Millie cleared her throat. “Honey, are you mixed up in something bad?”

  “Not by my choice. I keep my nose squeaky clean, Millie. Always.”

  “But why—Dani, running off when your house is all trashed and bloody does not look good.”

  “I know,” Dani said resolutely. “That’s why I’m coming back. I’m on my way.”

  “And this man who helped you? Is he with you?”

  “Not exactly,” Dani hedged. “He, um, didn’t come with me. Actually I sort of skipped out on him. And sort of…borrowed one of his cars.”

  “You stole a car?” Millie’s voice rose to a squeak of outrage.

  “Borrowed, Millie,” Dani repeated patiently. “I’ll make sure he gets it back. Anyhow, it’s a rustbucket Toyota pickup, not worth a dime. We had a difference of opinion about my safety, and I didn’t want to argue with him. He wanted me to stay in hiding. And he was very intense about it. Protective.”

  Millie harrumphed. “Oh, I like that in a man. It’s nice when they care. Except for those serial killers that start out all friendly at first and then—”

  “Right,” she broke in. Millie watched every forensic show there was on cable TV. Not a possibility that Dani wanted to dwell on right now. “I just wanted you to know I’m OK. You know, now might be a good time for you to visit Reggie down in Tucson.”

  “Do you think I’m in danger?” Millie’s voice went hushed.

  “Oh, no,” Dani said carefully. “But this—this happened so close to you. And I bet Reggie would love it if you stayed at his place. Just until the investigation is over.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Millie murmured. “I wouldn’t want to bother them.”

  “Please. Just call Reggie,” Dani urged. “Tell him what happened. I’m sure he’ll agree that it’s a good idea. Amy too. I know they’ll both want you out of harm’s way.”

  It took a few more minutes of coaxing and urging and reassuring, but she made progress in convincing Millie to visit her son before she hung up, or hoped that she did. She kept her back turned and made one last call to her fellow volunteer at the free clinic, and left a voicemail outlining the bizarre situation in the simplest possible terms.

  “I can’t guarantee I’ll be back for my shift, Colleen,” she concluded. “You have to find someone to cover. I’ll call again as soon as I can.”

  “Here you go.” Richie looked disappointed when she handed the phone back.

  Tough. She had zero energy left to maintain the protective force field needed for coping with a leering convenience store clerk. Even if she had led him on a little.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it,” she added. He had helped her.

  “If you wanna wait til the end of my shift, I’ll give you a ride,” the clerk offered. “I’ll even throw in a coupla corn dogs. I was s’posed to fry some up fresh a couple hours ago, but I didn’t. So you can just have these. If you want ’em.”

  Dani eyed the cracked, greasy dogs, deep fried to a shiny cockroach brown. “Nah. Thanks anyway.”

  Richie leaned over the counter. Oh so close. Much too close. She hadn’t noticed so many unattractive details when she was sweet-talking him. “I got the whole day off tomorrow, so uh…” He waggled a dandruffy monobrow at her. “I’m all yours.”

  “In your dreams, Richie. Have a nice life.”

  He muttered something about her being a bitch as she slammed her way outside, where it had started to rain. She ran for the battered Toyota, clutching her broken flip-flop, moving in an awkward trip-hop-skip.

  Praying for the engine to start again.

  * * * *

  Dani had been here. Luke’s ASP made him as aware of her far-scent as a bloodhound. Not something he chose to do often, because no one could handle a massive overload of olfactory detail about the world and its more or less fragrant inhabitants for long. That got old real fast.

  But tonight, he opened wide and took it all in. The whiff of shower soap, the scent of her hair, the blood on her flip-flops. The mold and rotten upholstery of the pickup’s car seat. The exhaust emitted from its corroded muffler.

  The bell jingled as he pushed inside. Sure enough, her sweet smell lingered in there too, competing with other odors. Unwashed male armpits, motor oil, farts, stale coffee, ancient frying grease and a dirty bathroom.

  The guy behind the counter reeked predominantly of cigarettes and stale scalp oil.

  “Did a woman just come in here?” Luke asked. “Pretty, green eyes, curly dark hair?”

  The guy’s face froze. “She ain’t been here. Nobody’s been through in a while.”

  Obviously lying. And the guilty look on his face when he slid his smartphone into his shirt triggered a disastrous thought. Dani had no money for gas or food. The only reason she had to stop at this dump would be to find a phone and make some calls.

  And Obsidian would have been listening.

  So they were on to her. And they were on their way. That big hammer was on the downswing, with Dani right under it.

  No point trying to get anything else out of the clerk. Guy was useless. Luke activated the SUV. It lit up, roaring with eagerness as it skidded across the wet parking lot and slid sideways to the door. The engine revved loudly. Driverless.

  The clerk stared, mouth agape as Luke sprinted for it, and already had his smartphone to his ear as Luke pulled out on the road.

  Fuckhead had called the cops. Could be a high-speed highway chase in Luke’s future. And there would be security cameras inside and out, retaining hard video evidence of both him and the crazy antics of his demon Porsche, as Dani called it.

  Fucking brilliant. If Dani hadn’t already sealed their doom, he’d finished the job himself.

  Chapter 14

  R-48 hesitated before initiating the rise from her data-dive.

  Fourteen hours. She’d gone so deep and far, she might have been able to float away this time. Just let the thread holding her to her body thin out until it vanished.

  No one was zapping her sensors to pull her back into her body. They seemed to have forgotten her. This was the best chance to cut loose that she was ever likely to get.

  Something held her back, though. Not the stim, though her programming yammered ceaselessly, urging her to serve, serve, serve.

  No, it was the shadowy flicker of memories behind her brain blocks that stopped her. If she floated away, she’d never know what was locked in there.

  Blasts of punishing head pain throbbed through her skull. She was already clenched at the prospect of Hale’s groping hands and foul breath, and Metzer was just as bad. A double turd helping, and she was the only female in this current squad. Their permanent piece. So fucking convenient whenever the urge struck them.

  She used her implant to input the codes to lift to the surface. The tank opened like a clamshell and she kept her eyes shut against the light as she dragged herself up out of the warm liquid and broke the seal of the oxygen mask. She was still alone in the room. No staring eyes to watch her dry off with a towel from the stack and squeeze the water out of her hair.

  She hurried into her clothes, and was zipping up her jacket right as Hale and Metzer entered. They both looked disappointed to find her dressed.

 
A rush of feverish heat disoriented her and she struggled to maintain her poker face. The less they noticed, the better. Reporting symptoms never resulted in anything good.

  “So?” Hale demanded. “What did you find on your dive?”

  “Daniela LaSalle just made three phone calls to people on the list of her associates.”

  “The one you compiled last night?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’ve been monitoring their phones. The calls originated from a smartphone in a Kwik Stop gas station convenience store two point six miles north of the town of Goforth, California, population 487. The phone belongs to Richard Ballard, the Kwik Stop clerk. I highlighted the location on the table monitor map, along with probable routes she’ll take to come back.”

  The men turned to the map. “You’re sure of her destination?” Hale asked.

  “She stated in the phone conversation that she’s headed to Munro Valley.” R-48 downloaded the data to the glowing table monitor. Theoretically she could have transferred it directly to both Hale and Metzer’s brain implants, but direct data-dumping was forbidden toward higher-ups. Cyber-diddling was for equals or underlings.

  “The first call was to Detective Willis of the Munro Valley Police Department,” R-48 told them. “The second was to her neighbor, Millicent Blum. And the third was a voicemail left for Colleen Morris. She supervises the free clinic where LaSalle works as a volunteer.”

  She set the first conversation to play. Hale and Metzer listened to it.

  Metzer’s mouth twisted in a thin smile when it was finished. “Sounded like Willis didn’t believe her.”

  “Speaking of the police, there’s those blood samples the criminologists took from LaSalle’s house,” Hale lectured. “They have to disappear.”

  “Of course,” Metzer said. “I’m on it. Trust me.”

  “Do you want to hear the second recording, sir?” R-48 asked.

  “Don’t ask stupid questions,” Hale snapped.

  R-48 set it to play, trying not to listen herself. The old woman’s quavering voice disturbed her. It triggered something like dread, making the uneasy rustling behind her brain blocks even more intense.