I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t been sure what attitude I would find, but it made sense that they were already cooperating, and that made things easier on us. “Maybe something got lost. I just want to double check.”
He looked over my shoulder at Damon. “And this is?”
“This is Cody Jones. He’s cooperating with us on the case.” I mentally cursed Damon for getting an ID in what sounded so obviously like a fake name, but the officer didn’t blink. He just nodded and made a note on the computer. He checked Cody’s ID, then led us down the hall to what looked like an interrogation room, with three folding chairs and a wide table. “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll bring you the files.”
I sighed, checking the corners. I should have expected that he wouldn’t just leave us alone in the evidence room, and I was sure we were on camera now. No matter, though. We didn’t need free reign of the place—just the full police records for the CareWare case, which our personas had every reason to pour over in detail.
The officer brought us several folders and plastic bags with the combined evidence of the case.
“Do you have the computer records as well?” I asked. “I’d like to look at them side by side.”
The officer gave me a funny look, but he came back with a laptop, logged me in, and gave me access to the files. I had no doubt that they would track everything I did on this computer, so giving access to Kalif from here wouldn’t be easy. I might need to come up with an excuse to access another part of the building.
While Damon looked through the paper files, I looked over the computer records. I expected to need to give Kalif access to the files, so he could run traces on the bank accounts, but as I scanned down, I saw that the cops had already done the hacking for us. They’d found that some of the money—though not all—had been routed through a foreign account and then deposited in a bank account back in the US. The address on that account was an apartment in Sacramento, but the police had been by the house several times, and the man who the account was registered to seemed to never have lived there, and indeed, never to have existed.
That sounded like a shifter, but also like a con man.
I memorized the address. The account had probably been owned by a shifter, so that address might be random, but it also might represent a mistake on the part of the shifter. The police hadn’t found anything at that address, even though they’d talked to the residents several times, but they probably didn’t know what they were looking for.
Damon swore.
“What?” I asked.
“Look at this.” He handed me a report that had been written up by one of the investigating officers. The officer had tracked every move that the supposed embezzler had made during the week when the money disappeared. And there were several places where he’d noted that the man seemed to be in two different places at the same time—here he’d been at work, documented by a security camera, but he’d also been at a restaurant, seen by three different people, and corroborated by his credit card records. In another place he’d been caught on camera both at a gas station and in the parking garage at work, simultaneously. The officer had attached stills of those two images, side by side, and even to my trained eye, they looked like exactly the same person.
But the worst part was the analysis of the evidence, where the officer postulated about prosthetic makeup and plastic surgery. He didn’t sound certain in his analysis though, and there at the end of the report was the single, worrisome sentence. This may represent a new trend in criminal impersonation tactics, and warrants further investigation.
I noted the name on the report: Officer Brian Lee. Our job as shifters was to keep a low profile, and when we failed that, to always leave enough doubt that a skeptic could assume we’d performed our cons using traditional methods. If this officer was doubting that in this instance, he might start looking harder, with an open mind. I just hoped he was a Skully rather than a Mulder—skepticism was our friend, and the only reason we were able to operate under the radar of the general public.
At any rate, I wasn’t about to let Kalif into their system and give them more evidence to trace.
We needed to check on that house—if we were dealing with Mel, we might pick up all kinds of things the cops missed, but first—
“We need to go,” I said.
“Yeah,” Damon said. “Like, yesterday.”
I packed the files back into the folder. I could try to steal the records, but there wasn’t much point—if Officer Lee was still keeping any kind of an eye on this case, I didn’t want to do anything to draw his attention.
We left through the front of the station, and the cop at the desk waved to us as we passed. “Find anything?” he asked.
“Looks like a dead end,” I said. “I’ll let you know if we learn otherwise.”
“Sorry to hear that,” he said. And he didn’t look twice at us as we walked through the doors and back to the parking lot.
“Thanks for your help,” I said to Damon as we walked across the parking lot, Damon showing only the barest hint of a limp. That was a reasonable thing to say in character, as well as out.
“Sure thing,” Damon said. He waited until we’d climbed into the car to continue. “Seriously, you’re going to need someone watching your back on this one. When do you plan to follow up on that lead?”
“Probably tomorrow,” I said. There was no point trying to leave him out of it. He’d seen the address as well as I had. “You want to come?”
“Yeah,” Damon said. “If there are cops poking around who are getting dangerously suspicious about our methods, you shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
It was starting to get eerie how often I was glad Kalif couldn’t hear the way Damon spoke to me. This time, he sounded protective.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “If you wouldn’t work for Wendy Carmine,” I asked, "what are you doing working for me?”
He shrugged. “Who says I’m working for you?”
“I had a job to do,” I said. “And you came with me, even though I didn’t tell you entirely what it was. Now you’re all worried for my safety, and don’t want me following up on a lead without you.”
“This isn’t safe. That’s all I’m saying.”
“But what’s it to you?”
“You’re right,” he said. “What am I doing here?” He reached for the door handle, but hesitated when I didn’t stop him. “Come on,” he said. “It’s no fun if you call my bluff.”
“Cut the crap,” I said. “And answer the question.”
“And give up my sense of boyish mystery? Never.”
I rolled my eyes, but the back of my neck prickled. Damon didn’t want me working alone, and didn’t want to tell me why. There could be any number of reasons for that, but most of them weren’t friendly. “Where do you want me to drop you off? Back at your motorcycle?”
“That’ll work,” Damon said. “Unless you want to come over.”
“Are you going to show me where you live?”
He considered that. “I can move again. Might be worth it.”
I snorted.
“Fine,” he said. “I could get us a hotel room.”
He sounded serious. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and he wasn’t laughing.
“Boyfriend,” I said.
“Right,” Damon said. “So, rain check.”
“Ugh,” I said.
That time he did laugh.
We drove to a gas station with an unattached bathroom area, and changed back into the personas we’d met in. Ten minutes later, I pulled up to the corner where I’d dropped Damon off.
Damon climbed out of the car, then leaned on the door, looking at me. “Hey,” he said. “Did you still want an answer to your question?”
“Which one?” I asked.
“About why I’m here.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I’ve given up hope that you’re going to tell me. Besides, you’d just lie.”
“I like to subvert exp
ectations,” he said. “So I’ll tell you the truth. It’s because you asked.”
I rolled my eyes.
Damon grinned. “I’m serious,” he said. “Wendy Carmine thinks she owns the world. Most shifters are like that. You do what they say, or else watch your step. You could turn me over to the Carmines to plead for your own life. Don’t think I don’t know it. If you demanded my help, I wouldn’t have a lot of good options.”
“But instead I asked,” I said.
“I like that about you,” Damon said. He winked at me. “Just don’t tell your boyfriend.” And then he turned and walked off into the night.
Twenty-three
It wasn’t until I was walking through the hotel parking lot that I realized I’d never contacted Kalif. I’d had my phone on silent, and when I pulled it out, I found a string of text messages asking me if I was in yet, and what was going on.
I’d meant to text him when I let him into the system, but when I’d decided not to, I hadn’t sent him any kind of message to let him know that I was okay, to tell him what was going on.
I’d run that job like Kalif wasn’t even there.
I thought about texting him then and there, if only to take the edge off his reaction when I walked in the door. But it would only take longer than telling him in person.
So I walked up to the door and knocked.
Kalif opened the door with the chain still in place and stuck out his hand. We exchanged signals. He banged the door shut, jerked off the chain, and threw it open again. “Where have you been? I never heard from you. I didn’t get into their system.”
I moved into the room and shut the door behind me before answering. “I know,” I said, speaking too quickly. “The police on the case were already noting signs of shifters. I don’t think they’d let themselves believe it yet, but they’re already looking into new technology that might let a person appear to be in two places at once. We couldn’t risk the tap. We could lead them right to us.”
Kalif didn’t relax. “And you didn’t think to maybe let me know that you weren’t dead? It’s been hours. I thought Damon must have stabbed you in the back, for sure. Or given you to my father. Or—"
I held up a hand. “I know. I should have texted you. I’m sorry.”
He slouched into a chair. “Why didn’t you?”
I hated that the whole truth felt like the wrong answer. He didn’t want to hear that I’d forgotten him because I’d been distracted with Damon. I shifted from one foot to the other. “I just forgot. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Kalif sighed. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”
That made me feel even worse. All this time I’d been refusing to let him take risks, but I didn’t even give him a backseat to mine. I left him completely out of the car. “Damon was actually helpful,” I said. “So that’s good, right?”
“That’s exactly how I would be,” he said. “If I were trying to gain your trust. Nice people are—"
“I know,” I said. “They’re the most dangerous, because you don’t want to see the knife behind their back. Fine. What do you want me to do?”
He gave me a tired look. “Let’s just leave Damon out of it, okay? Did you find a lead? Or did you have to split too early?”
“I found one,” I said. “But Damon knows about it.”
Kalif sighed.
“He was right there! He saw everything. What did you want me to do?” Stupid question. He wanted me not to work with Damon in the first place. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
His face folded with exhaustion. “So what’s the lead?”
“It’s an address,” I said. I grabbed the hotel notepad and wrote down what I’d memorized. “The police did some pretty thorough tracking of where the money went. They couldn’t account for all of it, but some of it was put in an account belonging to someone here. But according to the police records, no one by that name lives there, or ever has.”
“You think the person was a shifter.”
“I do.”
Kalif nodded. “So Damon could have called Wendy with that intel already.”
Ugh. “It’s possible,” I said. “Or maybe he’s doing what he said he would do, and waiting for me to contact him so we can go run reconnaissance.”
He picked up the hotel pen and started clicking again. “You already told him you wanted him for the job.”
“He was there,” I said again. “What did you want me to say?”
He gave me a tired look. “Maybe that this time, you could take me with you on your reconnaissance run? That you don’t need him for absolutely everything?”
I sighed. I hadn’t thought about that. Why hadn’t I thought about that? “So come,” I said. “We’ll just have Damon run backup.”
“Perfect,” Kalif said, clicking his pen again. “So he’s right on our heels, pinning us both down while he calls Wendy and Oliver.”
I took the pen away from him. “You want him to be working for them,” I said. “So you can be rid of him.”
His thumb kept clicking, even without the pen. “You don’t really think I want that,” Kalif said. “Because if he’s with them, we’re all in very deep trouble.”
I closed my eyes. He was right.
“Okay,” I said. “You’re just being smart. I get it. I’m taking a risk, and you have every right to hate it.”
We looked at each other.
I didn’t want to argue with Kalif, and I could tell he didn’t want to argue with me. But we still didn’t agree.
So where did that leave us?
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I said. “So if there’s something bothering you, go ahead and say it to me straight.”
He leaned back in his chair, and for a second I thought he was going to tell me to forget it. “Is something going on with you and him?” Kalif asked.
A weight fell over me. My whole body seemed to be coated in a lead blanket. “What?” I asked.
His shoulders hunched further. “With Damon. Did something happen between you tonight while you were out?”
I wanted to be angry at him for thinking such a thing, but if the situation was reversed, I’d probably be worrying the same. I’d asked him to be straight with me. At least this way, I could put his worries to rest. “No,” I said. “We worked together. He helped me gain access to the police station and look at the evidence. That’s it.”
Kalif was quiet for a minute. And while maybe I should have been mad, I wasn’t. I got it. I knew what it was like, wondering if someone you loved was lying to your face. And if they were, if every piece of your relationship to that point had also been a lie.
“I love you,” I said. “But I can’t prove it to you. You have to decide if you’re going to trust me.”
Kalif looked out the window, at the flickering reflective dots passing by on the road.
“Okay,” he said. “I trust you. I just don’t want to lose you to him.”
I spoke quietly. “I don’t want to lose you at all.”
“Yeah,” Kalif said. “That too.”
I reached for his hand. The mess we were in just kept getting bigger, and we were only making it worse by doubting each other. “We’re going to figure this out,” I said. “Just watch my back, and most of all, watch yours.” I paused. “But not from me, because I’m with you. Are you with me?”
He took my hand. “I’m with you.” His fingers laced through mine, holding them tight, but his eyes still looked worried.
He was as terrified as I was, and he wasn’t the only one who’d been holding things back. I kept putting us off, trying to get us to a place where we could be safe and together.
But maybe that day wasn’t coming.
Maybe this frenzied, terrifying rush of a life was the only one we’d ever have together.
If it was, I had to be sure that he knew how I felt.
“We haven’t talked much,” I said, "about what happens when all of this is over.”
Kalif nodded. “We jus
t need to get through it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But I want to make sure that we’re on the same page. That we both know what the hell it is that we’re fighting for.”
Kalif looked up at me, and I saw something there in his eyes.
Hope. His lit a match under mine, and I could feel my flame rekindling.
“When we’re done,” I said, "when we’re really free, I want to be married to you.”
His lips parted, and he watched me silently. Doubt tingled in the back of my mind, but I pushed it away.
This was Kalif. I loved him. I’d give my life for him. If he knew how I really felt, he wouldn’t worry so much about Damon. But he could never be sure what was going on inside my head. So I wanted to give him every bit of evidence I could to fight back against the paranoia and the doubt.
“We don’t have to,” I said. “But that’s what I want, and I thought you should know.”
Kalif smiled. “Was that a proposal?”
I laughed. “It doesn’t have to be. You can do the honors if you want. I know how attached you are to your stereotypical male roles.”
He laughed. “We’ve been talking about this for a while, more or less, right? Every time we talked about running away together, I thought that’s what we meant.”
I nodded. Kalif had never been someone I’d thought of as just a boyfriend, as just for now.
“So,” he said, "would you actually marry me, formally? Like for real?”
I blinked at him. “Like, in a church?”
Kalif’s face grew sheepish. “I don’t know.”
I pulled my hand away to smack him on the shoulder. “Oh, please,” I said. “This sounds like something you’ve put some thought into.”
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to look like I desperately hoped that he had.
Kalif climbed out of his chair and sat down next to me, taking my hand again. “Fine,” he said. “When we were apart I might have looked into falsifying marriage licenses, okay? It’s not like we have legal identities, but we could fake it for a day. It wouldn’t be that hard.”
A Million Shadows Page 21
