Chapter Nine #2
A PAIR OF GENTLEMEN showed up on my doorstep at exactly eight in the morning, both of them dressed in – naturally – dark suits.
They gave me polite, friendly smiles as they introduced themselves (Troy with the blue eyes, and Philip with the days-old stubble), and told me I had only to ask if I needed anything.
“Do you know where Paul is or what he’s working on right now?”
The men exchanged looks. “Well, anything except that,” Troy amended.
Mary Lou was agog with curiosity and didn’t waste time asking questions as soon as I got past the double doors. “That wasn’t the INTERPOL detective, was it?”
“Err, no.”
The nymph rolled her eyes when I couldn’t be more forthcoming. “Come on, Blair,” she wheedled. “At least tell me who they are?”
“They’re also from INTERPOL?”
“And?”
“And I gotta go, I have a meeting with Dike.” Or so I did, but all I really wanted was to escape before Mary Lou pried out more information from me.
Our division director called for Lana and Agent Gries as soon as I entered her office, and at her cue, I provided them with the latest update.
“Detective Paul emailed me early this morning. He says INTERPOL’s convinced Dion that it’s in his interest to work with them, but it will still take time.
Dion doesn’t keep records on non-human employees so tech support has to comb through all the surveillance footage in hopes of finding a match. ”
Dike turned to Lana. “Any news from tech support?”
“When Code P went into effect last night, we’ve tapped into surveillance cameras within a mile’s radius of every establishment Dion owns.
We should’ve come up with results by now, but we don’t even have a single possible match.
” Lana took a deep breath before saying reluctantly, “We think Jane Doe used a retroactive camouflage spell sometime in the past 24 hours to cover her trail.”
Lana’s report left me stunned. A retroactive camouflage spell was classified weapon material, the non-human’s equivalent to government-exclusive firearms like the AA12 Atchisson assault shotgun.
The spell Lana spoke of was able to delete all types of evidence – printed photos, digital files, and just about everything connected to the spell’s subject.
Once activated, any such data from that point in time and all the way back to the subject’s date of birth would be erased.
“That’s a serious accusation, Agent,” Tamara voiced sharply.
“It’s the only logical explanation—-”
“Is it, really? Or maybe you guys simply aren’t looking hard enough.”
Lana stiffened at the implied criticism. “We know what’s at risk here. We wouldn’t be so careless or negligent—-”
Dike raised her hand. “Enough.” Her voice, treacherous softness underlined by razor-sharp steel, sliced everyone’s words into silence.
“Agent Gries’ concern is understandable.
Lana, I’d appreciate if you could get the other agents to make a sweep of everything again, and failing that, I’d like you to continue monitoring real-time footage.
Assuming that such a spell is in effect, it doesn’t cover any footage made past the date of activation, yes? ”
Lana nodded.
“That said—-” Dike turned to Agent Gries.
“Agent Spears was also right to bring up such a possibility. We are not the kind of agency that operates with our heads buried in the sand, Agent Gries. If by any chance our Jane Doe is using such a spell, then we need to act based on worst-case scenario and assume that the whole system is compromised.”
I wasn’t the same girl when I left Dike’s office. I had never realized how na?ve and idealistic I was when I first worked for the agency. It had never occurred to me that it was possible for one of us to betray the agency, but that was obviously a possibility now, and one I couldn’t deny.
Zeus’ spell-induced slumber had forced everything into a standstill, and with the non-human public suspicious but still mostly unaware of the threat literally hanging over our heads, all agents had been ordered to proceed as normal.
In my case, that meant continuing to field calls about a missing cauldron at Demi’s Bakery, Mr. Norton’s pet that was possibly showing signs of low-level demonic possession, and pretending I was my usual self as I turned down a date from Jason, a handsome, easygoing executive based in the city.
We had been seatmates in my flight out of California, and we had been friends ever since.
“You sound stressed,” Jason commented bluntly. “Are you still adjusting to your new job?”
“More or less,” I hedged, not wanting to elaborate.
“Maybe we could talk it over dinner?”
I had to laugh, thinking how it was just like Jason not to give up after the first try.
“What happened this time?” Although Silver Mist was an hour’s drive away from Portland, Jason once told me that the distance was a small price to pay in exchange for enjoying one evening of no-strings-attached fun.
“A woman tried to spike my drink over lunch,” he revealed in disgust. “How bad do you think that is?”
“Very bad,” I had to concede.
“Enough to take pity on a poor guy—-”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Ha!” He had more money than he would ever know what to do with in a lifetime; that was how “poor” he was.
“Just dinner,” he cajoled.
“I honestly can’t, not tonight. But next time—-”
“If you mean that, give me a date then.”
I glanced at my calendar, thinking that all these blank boxes and crossed out dates would mean nothing if we didn’t survive tonight. “We have a local fair coming up two Saturdays from now,” I said finally.
“Perfect. What time should I pick you up?”
When I put the phone down, I was startled to find Roseanne standing behind my cubicle, and with a smile on her lips that could only be described as catty. “How very shocking,” she sneered. “Who would think someone like you would be juggling your time between several men?”
“Excuse me?” Was she seriously accusing me of playing around?
“So it isn’t serious between you and the INTERPOL detective?”
So that was what this was all about. She was interested in Paul. I slowly shook my head, saying haltingly, “We only work together.”
Her lip curled. “So you’re telling me he sends out an escorted Bentley SUV for every person he’s worked with?
” My surprise must have been shown, since Roseanne spat, “They dropped you off right in front of the lobby, little girl. Do you think people wouldn’t notice?
” Her voice started to rise. “You wanted to be seen and so you were seen—-”
“Is this official business, Roseanne,” a cool voice interrupted, “or could you spare Blair for a second?”
Roseanne’s lips tightened when she saw who it was. “The little girl’s all yours, Agent Gries.” She stalked away without looking back, and Tamara shook her head as she leaned against the wall of my cubicle. “She really has it for you, doesn’t she?”
“We have our differences,” I said lamely, wondering all the while if everyone in SMHS knew of Roseanne’s inexplicable grudge against me.
“Then again, everyone did see the shiny Bentley coming up the driveway...”
I could only shrug awkwardly in response, knowing that any honest explanation would only make things sound more serious between Paul and me.
He had called me up early this morning, saying that he had assigned two of his men to follow me around as added protection, in the event that our anonymous shooter had me as his next target.
‘It’s either me or them, Blair,’ he had asserted calmly. ‘It’s your choice.’
But of course Paul had known it wasn’t a choice at all. I’d have to be the most selfish idiot to have Paul act a chauffeur when he had so many better things to do with his time.
“Your face is giving you away, Agent Vavrin,” Tamara said with a sympathetic smile. “I’m guessing our INTERPOL detective didn’t give you a choice over this morning’s ride?”
“Well...” I didn’t really want to say anything against Paul, but I had no intentions of lying either.
“No need to cover up for him, Agent Vavrin,” the CIA agent dryly. “Don’t forget – I’ve had the pleasure of seeing him in action, and he strikes me as the kind of person who’s used to getting his way.”
You don’t know the half of it, I thought, but out loud, I said diplomatically, “It’s probably because he’s INTERPOL.”
“That was what I was thinking, too,” Tamara admitted. “And that’s why I sought you out now actually. I just wanted to make sure everything’s alright between us after yesterday—-”
“It is,” I said quickly. “I truly understand where you were coming me from—-” The other agent started shaking her head, and I stopped speaking.
“I was out of line, Blair,” she said ruefully. “It’s as you said, you know. He’s INTERPOL, and I had no right to question his decision like that. I still don’t understand what it is that you can do that I can’t, but obviously Detective Paul Without A Surname—-”
I choked back a laugh.
“—-sees differently, and I should have respected that.” She offered her hand. “So...no hard feelings?”
“Not a one.” I shook her hand, touched that the older woman would go out of her way to clear things up like this.
Tamara had already started to walk away when she suddenly turned back to look at me, saying, “I almost forgot. Any new updates on the case?”
“No, unfortunately. But if Paul lets me know or anything, I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Tristan and Maria pounced on me as soon as Agent Gries left the office. “What was that about?” Maria asked curiously while Tristan perched himself on my desk and pulled his girlfriend close to sit on his lap.
“Minor case-related issue,” I said evasively. “What are you guys working on right now?”
“A will,” Tristan answered, “possibly falsified.” Forgery was as much a crime as it was in the non-human world, and Maria specialized in detecting spells used to forge documents.
Tristan’s field of expertise, on the other hand, was the equivalent of forensic biology.
Every time an individual performed a spell, the magic a non-human wielded left an impression as unique as a person’s DNA.
Unfortunately, a person with the right knowledge could also avoid leaving such impressions, the way a human criminal would remove all traces of blood from a crime scene.
“It seems strange, doesn’t it?” Maria’s voice was unusually somber. “Working like everything’s normal even when it’s not.”
I looked outside our window. It was a deceptively sunny day, but who knew how long it would last?