Exacerbyte (Ellie Conway Book 3)

by Cat Connor

  “Maybe you should learn to take the occasional night off,” Doc said. I wasn’t sure if it was his professional opinion or just him being considerate.

  “Maybe so,” I said as my eyes closed.

  Fifteen

  Now I’m Here

  An hour later, I woke to find Doc sitting in an armchair opposite me.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

  “Better.”

  “You up for dinner?”

  “I’m not sure.” I opted for honesty.

  “This is quite a breakthrough, Conway – no smart-assed comment. He seems like a nice guy. Dinner won’t kill you.”

  Me? Smartassed?

  “I’ll go, a girl needs to eat.” I mustered as much enthusiasm as I could but even I knew it was a lame attempt.

  “Try not to enjoy yourself. I have Rowan’s number. I’ll call and tell him you can go to dinner. Go get ready.”

  I stood up slowly.

  “Take it easy. It’s not a race,” Doc said, as I staggered a little before finding my footing. I was in front of a full-length mirror by the bedroom door. My reflection was unbelievable. I was still wearing two tee shirts, jeans covered in dust and dirty boots. My hair hung down my back in a messy ponytail. I picked a wayward leaf from my hair. There was a mascara line across my cheek and a matching smudge on the side of my face.

  It looked like I’d had a hard day on the range – wrestling steers.

  “Do you know where are we eating?” I asked, attempting to brush some wayward hair off my face. It was a futile attempt to tidy myself up.

  “He mentioned the Casino.”

  “This is a good look …” I waved a hand down my body.

  He laughed. “If anyone can pull off the lived-in look, you can.”

  “Yeah, no! I’ll be in the shower.”

  “Don’t lock the door,” Doc said.

  “I’m okay, I just need a shower.”

  “Just once, do as I ask. Don’t lock the door.”

  My middle finger took on a life of its own.

  I’m not a door locker anyway. So there. Thankfully, I stopped short of blurting that out.

  A while later, I wiped steam from the bathroom mirror with a hand towel and stared into my own blue eyes. There was a need to give myself a strict talking to.

  “You screwed up today, don’t let it happen again, dumb ass. No one’s going to let you take care of Carla if you can’t even look after yourself.”

  I stared. My eyes stared back harder.

  “Now get ready, go to dinner and make like a normal person.”

  Watching myself staring was creepy.

  The steam vanished from around me, sucked from the room by the exhaust fan on the ceiling. I took a deep breath and started with moisturizer then minimal makeup. Because I was actually going out like a regular person, for the first time in a long time, I opted for dark eyeliner along my bottom lashes and a silvery eye shadow along my top lashes. A little extra mascara wouldn’t hurt. I towel-dried my wet hair, brushed it and then attacked it with the blow dryer. I surveyed myself in the mirror. Everything above my neck looked okay; everything below could take care of itself. My eyes sparkled, my hair shone, makeup covered the washed-out pasty look I’d worn earlier. All I needed was clothes.

  I wrapped myself in a large white bathrobe, tied it securely and padded out to the living area. Rowan looked up from a notebook he was writing in as I opened my bedroom door. A smile spread across his face. Doc was sitting on the couch pretending to watch television.

  “Hi Rowan, can I wear jeans, or is there some kind of dress code?”

  “Honey, you could wear that robe if you wanted.”

  “Jeans then?”

  “Jeans are fine.”

  I padded back to the room shutting the door behind me. I lifted my bag onto the bed, emptied the contents and spread my clothes out so I could better see what I’d brought with me.

  It was not good.

  My coolest jeans were a dark denim and velvet pair with a lace-up fly which I found and pulled them on under my robe.

  “Good Ellie, you’ve got your ass on,” I whispered to no one. “And if anyone cares it’s a mighty fine ass.”

  Rowan’s voice called out from the living room, “You gonna be much longer in there?”

  I searched frantically for something to wear on my top half. A long-sleeved black button-down shirt sprang into view, because all I have is black. I put it on and did up half the buttons. I leaned forward in the mirror, then did up one more button. Quickly I shoved essential girl items into a little black bag. A mirror check, my hair covered the scar on my forehead, long sleeves covered messy scarring on the inside of my right forearm.

  “Coming,” I called back.

  Feet.

  My new black cowboy boots. One was by the door. I stuffed my foot in one and limped around looking for the other.

  “Ellie?”

  “One sec.”

  Under the edge of the valance of the bed, I saw black. Yes, my missing boot was missing no longer. I tossed the long strap of the little black bag over my head and shoulder and tugged the boot on while hopping for the door.

  There was a knock and the door opened.

  I fell through it head first.

  Arms grabbed me but the falling continued. I landed hard.

  Way to go genius.

  A moan exhaled on a long breath from under me.

  I couldn’t move. I was unsure as to where my limbs had landed and didn’t want to inflict any more pain or possible injury on my dinner date.

  “Don’t move,” he said. “Roll with me. On two, roll; go with my body,” he said.

  I’m sure that at least two million women would’ve loved to hear him say that.

  We rolled. I lay for a moment and took stock; my head hadn’t exploded on impact, which was reassuring.

  “Okay?” I managed one word.

  He grinned. “Little winded but otherwise fine. You?”

  “Same, I’m okay,” I replied.

  He stood up, brushed himself off then reached down and took my hand to help me up. I felt a small shock as his hand met mine.

  I’m fine, just fine. Part of me wondered what the hell had got into me. I was going to dinner with Rowan Grange, higher than a freaking kite.

  Doc’s laughter blanketed the entire escapade. I didn’t have the energy to either silence him or join him.

  ‘Fine’ still doesn’t flow as nicely as ‘okay.’ I probably needed to try it out more often and get used to it.

  Rowan’s body was imprinted upon my rib cage and my head was not happy about falling.

  What was he made of? Solid steel?

  The thought stalled my brain. Man of steel. So now, he’s Superman. This hallucination keeps getting better.

  Just enjoy it Ellie, no telling what fresh hell lies around the corner.

  “Ellie?” Rowan touched my shoulder.

  “I’m ready. If you’re okay, let’s go to dinner,” I said and adjusted the strap from my bag. It had tried to strangle me in the fall. He smiled and offered me his arm, which I accepted.

  “You kids have a good time now!” Doc sang out, flipping channels.

  “You going back down with Sam and Lee?” I asked.

  “Yes. Be careful, Conway. Alcohol could trigger another migraine.”

  “Thanks.” It was more likely to trigger a sizable hangover.

  Rowan opened the door and something white fell to the ground. He stooped and picked up two pieces of white paper then handed them to me without looking at them first. I turned them over as he closed the door.

  The first was a photograph of Rowan and me in the hotel gym, the second a photo of Lee and me at the market. There was no writing on either picture. I pushed them into my bag before Rowan saw them.

  “What was it?” he asked.

  “A note. Nothing important.” I turned on a dazzling smile.

  A soupy mix of dread and fear was forming deep in my gut, which I le
t brew. I wondered what it meant but didn’t have time to brood over the new photographs for long.

  We walked out of the elevator into a lobby full of people.

  His hand took mine as we crossed the lobby then, with a wistful glint in his eye, he said, “I think I saw you once before in a hotel lobby.”

  Color rose in my cheeks. The Marriot in DC.

  It served to make him smile wider.

  He continued, “Think it was in DC, about four years ago?”

  My face felt hot.

  “It was about four years ago, and it was DC,” I replied.

  A car waited for us at the front entrance.

  It was so quiet outside. I don’t know quite what I expected. Fifty or so screaming girls seemed to be the norm when Lee stepped foot outside, so I rather expected Rowan to attract more than a quiet, still evening.

  I felt eyes peering from the dark, making my spine tingle and me shiver.

  “It’s so quiet.” I slid into the back seat of the car and moved over for him.

  “No one knows where we are staying.” He looked out the window at the hotel as the car pulled away

  Bauer crawled to the forefront of my mind. Abbey came too. I hoped she’d be okay. Him, I wanted to fry or liquefy. I gave myself permission to consider how it would feel to blow off his head and plant daisies in his neck.

  “How’d you know it was me in DC?”

  “What can I say? … You made an impression.”

  Damn!

  “You know that’s ever so slightly scary.” I didn’t know if I should be flattered or worried.

  “I’ve never seen another attractive woman in a bloody tee shirt and socks without boots, wearing a handgun jammed in the waist band of her jeans.”

  Another reminder of what a great first impression I make.

  My cheeks flushed again as my mind stumbled over the attractive thing. “I’m not that memorable.”

  He leaned closer and said, “You are.” I knew by his tone of voice that he was only trying to make me feel better.

  Nothing felt right.

  How many women in the world would give their first born to trade places with me?

  In the back of my mind was concern over Carla’s safety; knowing I couldn’t get to her at speed sent tendrils of panic through my being.

  Leaning my head back, I tried to think calming thoughts. It involved reminding myself over and over that Caine was taking care of her. No one could do a better job. By the time the car pulled into the underground car park at the Casino, I’d begun to relax.

  There was still the lingering feeling that I had eaten a large dollop of stupid with my breakfast.

  Must’ve been the long-acting stuff because it kept coming back. The Demerol enhanced it, giving my stupidity super powers.

  I stole backward glances over my shoulder several times trying to place the feeling of eyes watching me. I expected Rowan to command a few stares but this felt sinister like all the other eyes I’d felt on me recently.

  Our escort took us upstairs in a private elevator and down a long hallway above the two floors of gaming tables. One-way glass in the private dining room gave us a view of the tables and afforded privacy.

  Rowan was ‘cool’ personified and I let myself bask in the shade of his cool. Tired of feeling broken and the irony of needing a break didn’t escape me.

  The case edged into my thoughts. Bauer made my skin crawl and, apparently, my head ache to the extreme. That I didn’t need again. Sam, Lee and Doc could handle Bauer; they didn’t need me tonight.

  Rowan leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed and comfortable. “I thought it might be fun to do something together.”

  Totally unexpected. “Really, like what?”

  “I’d like it if we collaborated on a project or two. Are you up for it?” he said with a grin.

  Stunned. Speechless.

  Oh, this is the best hallucination ever. He made a gesture and suddenly there was a wine waiter at the table. Champagne arrived.

  Oh, what the hell. “I’ll give it a go. Once this case is closed.”

  “You serious?” Rowan sounded surprised.

  “Yep. I’m seriously suffering from FiTH syndrome but what the hell, let’s do it.”

  “Fith?”

  Laughter rose. “Fucked in the Head.”

  The conversation meandered; I listened as he told me how their latest record came about. I enjoyed his stories. As he talked, life exploded from his being.

  It felt good to bathe in the light.

  By the time the entrée arrived, I was feeling okay about everything. Maybe he was Superman.

  Then the conversation turned to my work.

  “What is the case that brought you to New Zealand?”

  “A case linked to one back home.”

  “Get far?”

  “Today we did.” I had another drink. “We found a missing girl.”

  “Good job,” Rowan raised his glass.

  A big mouthful of champagne almost choked me as the bubbles tickled my throat and I coughed.

  I really wished I hadn’t. Pain shot through my head and semi-paralyzed me for a moment.

  “Is the girl okay?” Rowan asked.

  “It’s hard to say. She was kidnapped, drugged and raped.” As soon as I realized what I’d said, I knew I should censor myself before opening my mouth. He’s not one of us.

  The color blanched from Rowan’s face. He swallowed a large amount of champagne.

  “Is your job always like that?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Let’s not go there. She’s a kid and she should’ve been out shopping in the mall with her girlfriends and squealing over Billy Ray Cyrus’s kid or that Beiber boy, like every other little girl. There are four more missing.” Rowan’s face paled more. “This is not dinner conversation.”

  He’s not one of us.

  His eyes met mine. Mac came to mind and I wondered what he’d make of this new lunacy. This delusion was a real repeater, it kept coming back and got better every time and was so vivid.

  “Tell me about you,” I said.

  He scratched his neck and refilled our glasses. “I sing. I’m a lucky bastard. I get to do what I love doing.”

  I suspected the luck part was minimal considering his enormous talent.

  My foot was going to sleep. I lifted my glass for another drink. A few more of those and I wouldn’t be feeling any pain.

  Dinner arrived.

  His banter and the lightness in his voice were uplifting. I was drifting.

  Mac’s voice resounded within me, ‘Don’t go too far, Babe.’

  Rowan’s body language made interesting reading. He was leaning back, the ankle of his right leg rested upon the knee of his left, his right arm draped over the back of the chair he sat on; he rested his left elbow on the table, his fingers touching his chin. Relaxed.

  The waiter appeared and filled our glasses. I could hear Doc warning me about the dangers of alcohol, how it could trigger another migraine. I flipped him off in my head.

  Rowan leaned over the table. “Enough about me, tell me about you?”

  “Nothing much to tell. I work for the FBI. I love music and I inherited a cat and a lunatic brother-in-law from Mac,” I replied. “I live a quiet life.” Mac’s laughter filled my head as he echoed the words, ‘I live a quiet life.’

  “I have a feeling there is a lot more to you than you’re sharing,” he said lifting his glass.

  I have a feeling I’m too drunk to walk straight. See? We all have feelings. Our glasses touched with a fine tinkle and then I swallowed more bubbles, this time without the unflattering choking.

  My eyes drifted down to the gaming tables. The roulette wheel spun. There were three people playing the table. Two men and one woman.

  I shifted my focus from gazing at no one in particular, to watching one of the men intently. I could only see his left profile and was looking almost at the top of his head, bu
t still, I found I had a nagging feeling that I’d seen him before.

  My hand delved into my bag and removed my phone from under the photographs without Rowan seeing them. “Just need to check something.”

  I called Lee while paying close attention to the guy below me.

  “Everything going okay?” I asked when he answered his phone.

  “SSA, it’s all good.”

  “Send me the file photograph of Hawk?”

  “To your phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Misha couldn’t confirm it was Hawk.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ve sent it.”

  As he said that, a picture message arrived. I opened it and held it up by the window, next to where his head was.

  The man tilted his head up to look at a screen on the wall in front of him. I saw what was playing. It amused me to think he’d given me a good look at his face so he could see an old Grange video clip.

  I showed Rowan. “Look at this and him.”

  “Could be the same person,” he replied, leaning on both his elbows now. He followed his gaze too and smiled. “Damn that’s an old clip. What on earth were we wearing?”

  “The tightest jeans I’ve ever seen. Frightening isn’t it?” I held the phone to my ear again and said, “We may have a chance to find out if that picture is Hawk. There is a guy at the roulette wheel in the casino who is remarkably similar.”

  “Can you take him?” Lee asked.

  Bless him for asking. “I’ve been drinking. I’m not even certain my eyes are seeing straight,” I told him. “I am off tonight, remember? The boss is taking some personal time … Doc’s orders.”

  I don’t trust myself.

  “Describe him.”

  Feeling very clever, I went one better, snapped a picture with my phone and sent it to Lee.

  “He’s winning,” I told him. “I doubt he’ll be in a hurry to leave.”

  “Sam and I are coming.”

  “Where’s Bauer?”

  “Kurt and Sean took him to Christchurch central police station. They’re waiting for a Marine escort to arrive from the embassy in Wellington.”

  “Be safe,” I said and hung up.

  Rowan was watching with me. “Who is Hawk?”

  “There’s a thought that he’s a terrorist and his cell operates to make money for more militant cells. He’s also a murderous scumbag.”