He clicked over to another set of medical records, this time for a Reuben Ramirez who had been treated for a gunshot wound with an antibiotic-resistant infection just last week. This was a different hospital than the records Aida had found, but San Ramon wasn’t so far off from Sacramento. And all of it was within a two-hour drive of San Jose, which meant Mel could have easily been there and still have been conducting his search for us.
“Is this the same wound as the other records?” I asked.
I don’t know all the medical terminology,” Kalif said. “And there aren’t any scans, or pictures. But it seems plausible.”
“What was the name on the one your mom found?” I asked.
“Chie Sugiura,” he said. “A woman.”
That made no difference. Mel could still change his race, gender, and appearance. He just couldn’t shift the bullet wound off of his knee, or heal it supernaturally, and without really good laser surgery and a little luck, the scar tissue would always remain.
“So this is the best part,” Kalif said, scrolling down. “Reuben has a return appointment this afternoon.”
I shook my head. “If he’s a shifter, he won’t keep a return appointment.”
Kalif shook his head. “I ran a search on those antibiotics. They’re pulling out the big guns, and if we’re right, this wound is two months old. If the infection is bad enough that he went to a second doctor, he might have to.”
I nodded. Mel could have stolen the drugs—my mother was evidence enough of that. Either Reuben wasn’t Mel, or Mel was desperate for actual medical help.
I had to admit I liked the idea of Mel being desperate.
“It’s a lead,” I said. “If it’s not him, we’ll still have something to report back to your mom. We can see if he shows up to the doctor’s office, and then if he does, track him home.” I looked at the medical record again. “But once we do that, how will we be sure it’s your dad? There’s no way he’ll show up to the appointment with his home face.”
Kalif nodded. “We could search his place after he leaves. Look for evidence.”
That was a good idea, and more or less the one Mel had used against me. “Perfect,” I said. “Let’s pick up new phones and some headsets to go with them. That way I can go in, and you can listen in case I need you to bail me out in a hurry.”
Kalif shifted uncomfortably. “He’s my dad. Shouldn’t I be the one to go in?”
I squinted at the screen. Kalif had a point. Mel might be less willing to hurt him than me—and last time I’d been in the same room as Mel, he’d tried to strangle me.
But I still hated the idea of sending Kalif in alone and hiding, waiting for something to go wrong. Knowing that that something might be Kalif being abducted, or even killed, dad or not. Just the thought of it made my palms sweat.
But of course, that was exactly what I’d be asking him to do for me.
“I’ll have a palm code,” he said. “I might be able to diffuse him better if I get caught. I’m his son. He’s not going to hurt me.”
I bit my lip. Kalif could teach me that code, and then I could pretend to be him.
But asking for someone’s palm code was a complete invasion of privacy, even if that shifter was now the enemy. And asking Kalif for his code with his own father was even more inappropriate. If it was a necessary element of the plan, I could ask. If it was just to make myself feel better . . .
“We can decide what to do when we get there,” I said.
Kalif didn’t look thrilled about that, but he nodded. “That appointment is in two hours. Let’s get moving.”
In addition to picking up the phones and some new clothes, we used some of Kalif’s legitimately-earned money to rent a car for the day, using an old fake ID of my mom’s. We could have used fake credit, but that would have added an additional layer of complexity. This was one of my dad’s old habits: he never stole what he could easily pay for. It greatly lessened our chances of getting caught.
The clinic in San Ramon was in a building across the parking lot from the hospital itself. We parked close to the hospital emergency room, out of sight of the clinic waiting room. Kalif went into the office ahead of me and when I followed, I spotted him in a seat that was out of the direct eye line of the receptionist, drawing as little attention as possible.
I walked right up to the desk and picked up the sign-in sheet. Reuben hadn’t signed in yet, so I wrote down the name of my shiny new persona—Rachel Davis, a first-time patient whose appointment was a week from now near this same time. I had no idea what the real Rachel looked like, but it was a pretty safe bet that I wouldn’t run into her a whole week in advance.
I took a seat across from Kalif, but didn’t look directly at him.
Reuben was a thirty-year-old male, who I presumed to be Latino. As we waited for the receptionist to call Rachel’s name, only one patient walked through the office doors: a twenty-something woman with a baby in her arms and a little girl in a pink tutu toddling along behind.
Not exactly the kind of patient you expect to come in for a gunshot wound.
The clock ticked past his appointment time. The receptionist explained to the mother that a child with an earache didn’t qualify for a well-child co-pay, even if that earache ended up being imaginary.
I tried not to stare at the door. Reuben was only five minutes late, but it was also possible that he’d been early, and we’d already missed him. Maybe he walked straight up to the counter and never wrote down his name. If he did, he might already be in an exam room. The office was fairly empty; it didn’t look like they were behind, so they might have gotten him straight back. If he really was Mel, that would have been a good plan to keep someone from doing exactly what we were trying to do. He might even leave through a different exit, although I hadn’t seen any other obvious ones from outside.
“Rachel?” the receptionist called.
I walked up to the desk. “Hi,” I said.
“Hello,” she said. “Did you have an appointment?”
“Yeah,” I said. “At one-twenty. I’m a little early.”
“What’s your birth date?”
I gave her the date I’d memorized from the office records. If she wanted, I could give her Rachel’s mother’s maiden name, her social security number, her insurance number, and her phone number and address. I figured every bit of information the hospital had on Rachel was something they might ask to verify her ID, so I’d learned it all.
The receptionist frowned. “I’m not seeing that on the schedule. Let me check.” She typed something in, and then her eyebrows raised. “It looks like I have you down for next Wednesday at one-twenty.” She gave me an apologetic glance.
“Oh, no,” I said. I needed to not raise too much of a fuss, so the receptionist would be less likely to remember me next week. “I must have written it down wrong on my calendar. Is there anything we can do?”
“Let me look at the schedule,” she said. “Since you’re already here.”
The front office door opened behind me, and I forced myself to stay focused on the counter. If Reuben was really Mel, he’d know how dangerous it was to keep a return appointment on record when he knew the Carmines, at least, were looking for him. He’d be watching for people who took undue notice of him, even if the receptionist didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” the receptionist said. “We’re already a little behind today, so I’m afraid I can’t squeeze you in.”
That was actually ideal, but I needed her to let me sit in the waiting room a little longer, so I could identify Reuben. Then I saw an opening. “And everyone’s shown up for their current appointments?” I asked. “Because if there’s a no-show, maybe you could fit me in?”
The receptionist went over the schedule again. “We have one patient who’s late,” she said. “If you want to wait a few more minutes, maybe.”
I smiled. Nice people were crueler to scam, but also easier.
I spun around just as the newcomer reached for the sign-in shee
t. At first glance, I could tell he was a wiry man with dark hair and tan skin; I looked past him and walked so fast that I nearly barreled into him.
He gave me a sharp look as I waved both hands in the air.
“I’m so sorry!” I said. “I am such a basket case today.”
He shrugged and shuffled past me.
My heart pounded in my throat.
He favored his left leg.
I leaned toward him just slightly, trying to see if he smelled familiar. A shifter could alter his scent superficially, but most of us didn’t, as people’s smells were incredibly hard to replicate.
He smelled only like apple shampoo, which didn’t ring any particular bells.
The man reached for the sign-in sheet, and I allowed myself one glance over his shoulder as he wrote down his name.
Reuben Ramirez.
I forced myself not to look at him again until I’d sat down—this time across the waiting room from Kalif. Then my eyes went straight to his knees. Reuben was, of course, wearing long cargo pants. No chance of stealing a glance at his wound in those.
Kalif and I both sat in silence while the receptionist checked Reuben in. As he sat down on the other side of the room, nearer to Kalif, she waved me over with an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Our possible no-show has arrived.”
I forced myself not to react as Reuben turned toward me. I smiled at the receptionist. “It’s fine,” I said. “My own stupid fault for writing it down wrong.” I turned to walk out.
Reuben stared at me on my way to the door, but I didn’t make eye contact. Mentally, I went over my persona. No part of me looked like my home body—which Mel would easily recognize—and I hadn’t used this face before. If this was Mel, he shouldn’t be able to recognize me.
But that wouldn’t stop him from being suspicious.
I walked across the parking lot to our car—parked safely out of view—and waited.
It took Kalif ten full palm-sweaty minutes to follow me. I was definitely not cut out for the role of waiting.
I scrutinized him closely as he approached, checking over his persona. It looked the same as it had in the waiting room, which meant it wasn’t likely that Mel was using Kalif’s cover as a hasty disguise to get at me. But when Kalif did reach the car, I rolled down the window and made him palm-check with me before I let him in. When Mel was involved, we couldn’t be too careful.
His hand checked out, but I waited until he got into the car to speak. I also didn’t want to be overheard.
“Do you think that’s him?” I asked.
Kalif shrugged. “He has a leg wound, but we knew that already.”
I nodded. “Did you check the exits?”
“I waited until he went back to his exam, so he wouldn’t realize I was with you. I think if he was going to flee, he’d have done it before he went back.”
I nodded. “Unless he’s going to climb out a window while they leave him to undress. Drive around the building once to check?”
Kalif nodded. I climbed into the back seat, ducked low, and changed while he drove. I swapped my slacks for jeans and a t-shirt, and then lay down on the back seat and turned my hair into a curly mess and made my skin pale and blotchy.
“I don’t see him,” he said. “I don’t want to go around again, in case he’s watching out the window.”
“My turn, then,” I said. I put my hand on the door handle. Kalif passed me a disposable phone, and I kissed him on the cheek over the back seat before I got out.
“Stay close,” I said.
He nodded. “Very.”
After he drove away, I slouched toward the building, dialed Kalif on my cell phone, and put my ear bud in.
I sat down under a tree on the far side of the parking lot. I was just a girl, sitting on the grass, talking on her cell phone. There was nothing suspicious about that.
Except that this was Mel. Like me, he would suspect everybody.
“Jory?” Kalif said over my headset.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful, okay?”
“I’m just watching,” I said.
“Yeah, I know,” Kalif said. “But I just keep picturing my dad with his hands around your throat. Just remember that’s who you’re dealing with, okay?”
I paused. I hadn’t told Kalif exactly what Mel had done to me. I’d never had the chance. “Did your mom tell you about that?”
He was silent for a second. “I saw the footage. In the Carmine’s security archives. They showed every second of it to my mom and me, like they wanted to really make a point of how nice they were being not executing me after I helped you break in.”
I swallowed. Thinking about Mel’s hands on my neck made me feel lightheaded. The bruises had taken a week to fade. He would have killed me. I had no doubt that he’d meant to. And I had equally no doubt that he’d try again, if he thought it was to his benefit.
But Kalif had been in even worse danger, living with his mother while she was working directly with her parents. We’d believed she’d protect him, and she had, because he was still here.
But now, if they’d learned he’d run off with me again?
This time they’d probably do a lot worse than show him video of his own betrayal.
It took half an hour for Reuben to come out of the doctor’s office, and when he did, he still looked like himself. I got a better look at his limp as he ambled across the parking lot. It wasn’t as noticeable as it had been when he backed away from me in the doctor’s office. If I were Mel, I’d have trained every day to walk normally, even if the bullet had shattered my knee cap. Any unavoidable tick could mean death for a shifter—especially a wanted one.
A limp was almost as bad as scars across the face.
I twirled a blade of grass around my finger and studied my cell phone. I’d have expected Mel to be nervous about his surroundings, but Reuben barely glanced in my direction.
For some reason, that pissed me off. If this was Mel, I wanted him scared—as scared as I’d been after he and Aida made my parents disappear. I wanted him to sweat every second he was evading us.
When Reuben had his back fully turned on me, I spoke to Kalif. “He’s headed north.”
“ID his car and I’ll come pick you up.”
But Reuben didn’t get into a car. When he reached the sidewalk, he turned and kept walking.
“He’s headed west on foot,” I said.
“I see him,” Kalif said. “I’m parked on the far side of that street. Give him a minute to pass me up and then you can come meet me and we can follow.”
“No,” I said. “You’re still in the same persona. I don’t want to risk him seeing you. I’ll follow at a distance. You drive around the block and pick me up without passing him, okay?”
Kalif paused. “I’m less conspicuous in a car.”
I sighed. Dad always said it was important to determine ahead of time who was taking point on an individual mission, so you didn’t end up arguing about what to do and wasting precious time, or worse, exposing yourself.
I’d just assumed I was the one calling the shots here.
“Please do it,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
Kalif paused, and in my mind, I could see the way his eyebrows would press together.
“Really,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m moving.”
I sighed. We could have it out later. Right now, the important thing was not to lose Reuben.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to follow him far.
Reuben ducked into the hospital’s underground parking garage through the street entrance. My pulse picked up. There was no reason for him to park there when there were plenty of open spots around the clinic, and there was no reason to walk there via the street, instead of one of the closer entrances on the parking lot side.
But it was also exactly the sort of place we frequented to change our faces, since the security cameras usually pointed at the entrances and exits, leaving lots of space in
between where we could change without being seen.
I stood, brushing off my jeans, and looking at the place where Reuben had disappeared from sight. There wasn’t time to send Kalif after him. If I didn’t follow immediately, we’d lose him. “Reuben went into the parking garage,” I said. “I’m on it.”
And then I strode across the parking lot and followed him down the ramp.
Twelve
The parking garage was full of places for Reuben to hide. It was also full of cars and concrete pillars, which made it easier to follow him without being seen.
I caught sight of him again as I reached the bottom of the ramp, and skipped from car to car, watching him through tinted windows.
Reuben moved to an area of open rows, and I paused behind the last row of cars and lay down on the concrete, watching his feet from between the wheels. His feet limped to a shadowed area behind a large van, and then moved without pausing toward the far exit to the garage. I wondered if his face had already turned.
In my pocket, my phone vibrated. I must have lost reception when I came down into the parking garage, and I was glad I’d remembered to turn the ringer off.
I reached in and pressed the talk button as, beneath the car, I saw Reuben’s boots pace to the ramp on the far side.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey,” Kalif said back. “You about gave me a heart attack. I lost the connection and then couldn’t get you back.”
That’s what I hated about being the one who was waiting. There was no way I was letting him go into Mel’s apartment alone. “I’m in the parking garage, so I might lose you again. But he’s leaving the garage on the south side.”
“I’m moving that way,” Kalif said. “But I might miss him coming out.”
“I’ll follow from here.”
Kalif sounded even more worried. “If he went through the garage without getting in a car, he’s either a regular guy who knows he’s being followed, or a shifter. Either one is dangerous.”
I stood up from behind the car and moved toward the exit ramp. “I know,” I said. “But I can’t stay here anyway. Security might have already seen me skulking around. I’ll keep an eye on him until you can pick me up.”
A Million Shadows Page 11
