Black In White

by J. C. Andrijeski

  I let that slide, thinking over the rest of his words. “You don’t want this ‘rogue’ or whatever it is to know you’re following him?” I said.

  “Correct.” He made another vague gesture with one hand. “Obviously.” After a pause, he tilted his head in a different kind of gesture. That one seemed almost apologetic. “I was also in need of a forensic psychologist, as I said.”

  I stared. Then my eyes abruptly narrowed to slits. “What?”

  Sighing a bit, he pulled out his smart phone. Tapping in a few keys and sliding his fingers across the front several times, he turned the screen around then, showing it to me.

  Filling the screen was the headline and cover photo of a webzine article. The picture stood beneath blood-red text that shouted “NURSERY KILLER CAUGHT IN SOUTH BAY.” I knew the photo and scowled. In it, I stood behind Nick, wearing a taut expression and a bullet proof vest, my arms folded in front of my chest, my hair back in a ponytail. It was from Nick’s last big publicity case, outside the house of the suspect I’d found for him.

  “Nasty piece of work, that one,” Black said, squinting down at the image of me on the small screen. “Little boys, was it?”

  My fingers clenched in my lap. “You knew who I was? Before yesterday?”

  “Not in the way you mean. But I was... intrigued.”

  “And you knew they would bring me in to talk to you?”

  “I knew it was a distinct possibility. More precisely, I knew that your boy, Tanaka, was assigned to this case... and that if I was uncooperative enough, he might feel inspired to improvise. I also happened to know your office was located down the street.”

  A smile touched my lips, but it didn’t contain any humor.

  “You must know how ludicrous that sounds,” I told him.

  “Why?” he said, throwing up his hands gracefully. “I was in need of a forensic psychologist. You were being touted as a ‘miracle worker.’ I like to recruit from the best in the field.” He paused, once again looking at the image of me on the screen. “And I may not have known what you were, doc, but I knew you weren’t what you were pretending to be.”

  “Which is what?” I retorted.

  “Harmless,” he said at once. Glancing at me, he tapped the photo with one finger. “I can see a lot in photos, doc. More than you’d believe.”

  “I have office hours,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  He shrugged. “I like to assess people in their element when I meet them. Even from just one photo, you struck me as a field worker type... not a clinician. As much as you tried to hide that fact with your posture in this photo.”

  “Really? What gave me away?”

  “Your eyes. Which are positively stunning, by the way.” He gave me a faint smile. Before I could react, he showed me the image again, and tapped where my hand rested by the edge of the flak jacket. “Oh... and the gun. Did your pal Tanaka know you were packing heat that night? I know he didn’t know you read that pedophile to find the booby-traps he left all over the house... I imagine that took some creativity on your part, to implant that idea without him suspecting.” He gave me a look containing an open flicker of disgust. “That couldn’t have been fun, either. Being inside that particular mind. I’m amazed you didn’t shoot him on sight.”

  I swallowed, wanting to argue with him.

  I didn’t, though.

  He gave another of those graceful shrugs. “What better way to assess your skills than to see what you could make of me? Then I felt you trying to read me from inside that glass booth...” His jaw hardened, right before he gave me an openly heated look. “Gaos, doc... I admit, I got a hard on in about two seconds when I felt that. And again, when I couldn’t get past your shield. I can’t even begin to tell you what a wholly unexpected and welcome surprise that was...”

  When I averted my gaze, I heard him smile.

  He made another of those shrugging gestures and I glanced back at him, my eyes following his hand and fingers.

  “I’m not buying this shy act either, doc... although I might believe the confusion.” He shook his head, smiling as he looked out the window. “...And no, I don’t believe it’s a coincidence, you being here,” he added, softer. “Not with that rogue here. Not with me here, for that matter.” Turning, he met my gaze seriously. “I’m not always here, you know... in San Francisco. Even with my main office here, I’m often... elsewhere.”

  That hard, predatory look rose in his eyes as he studied my face.

  “You have no idea just how truly rare our kind is in this dimension, doc,” he said. “We’d be on the critically endangered species list... if humans knew about us at all.” He glanced down at my ring finger. “And apart from your race, you fit his victim profile. Which I find... interesting. Just like your friend, Naoko Tanaka, finds it interesting.”

  I fought another wave of confusion, again feeling something about him threatening my more clinical veneer. I tried to decide if I wanted to follow him down his whole “other race” rabbit hole. Even though I’d started this, I decided I didn’t. Not here. Not now.

  “You really think he’s targeting me?” I said. “The wedding killer?”

  He continued to stare out the window, not answering at first.

  Then he shrugged, leaning back to level that predatory stare at me again.

  “I honestly don’t know.” He exhaled, leaning deeper in the leather booth. “What do you think, doc? Or do you still believe this is all just one big coincidence? An astrological convergence of sorts, with you and I at the center?”

  Before I could answer, the waiter appeared with my salad.

  The waiter set it down in front of me, along with a full glass of red wine that I hadn’t ordered. Ignoring the salad, I found myself picking up the thin-stemmed glass before the waiter had even left the table with my old one. I took a few good swallows of what turned out to be a different bottle, this time a better than decent merlot. I’d just set the glass down by my plate when my gaze for some reason flickered towards the bar.

  Once it had, I did a double-take, then felt myself pale.

  “What?” Black said.

  I glanced from the bar to him, but he was already focusing his stare on the mirrors hanging on the wall behind me. I contemplated getting up, rising quickly to my feet, perhaps thinking to head both of them off, or maybe to walk to the other end of the bar before the person sitting there saw me sitting in the corner booth with Black.

  I was too late, though.

  The person at the bar had already seen me.

  He was already sliding off his stool and then he was walking directly towards me.

  “What, Miriam?” Black said, still not turning around. “Who is that?”

  “It’s Ian,” I said, feeling light-headed as I watched my fiancé walk towards our corner booth with a smile on his handsome face.

  Picking up my glass, I took a really big swallow of the merlot, setting the tulip-shaped glass down as I rose shakily to my feet.

  I found myself conscious suddenly of the borrowed clothes I was wearing.

  “He’s here,” I said numbly.

  “YOU ARE THE absolute worst person to surprise in human history,” Ian smiled, grasping my elbow as he leaned closer to kiss my cheek. “...The absolute worst.”

  I forced a smile. My eyes drifted down to Black as I accepted the kiss. He hadn’t stood up when Ian reached our table and now I found myself noticing the faint air of hostility drifting off Black as he watched Ian kiss me. As for me, I was deeply aware I was probably ten different shades of guilty-looking even as I tried to shake the feeling off.

  Whatever I was doing here, it was no threat to Ian.

  I desperately wanted to believe that, anyway.

  “Sorry,” I murmured, my face still uncomfortably hot. “You caught me on kind of a strange night.” I motioned towards Black, not looking down at him as I studied Ian’s face. “I’d like you to meet Quentin Black,” I said, deciding to tell him part of the truth at least. “He’s a new pr
ospective employer,” I added. “He runs a private investigation and security firm downtown and wants me to consider a possible job with his permanent staff.”

  Ian raised his eyebrows subtly, keeping that humor on his face.

  Even so, he appeared to be studying my expression more closely than usual. I was about to speak again when he glanced down at Black, barely hesitating before he extended a hand.

  “Ian Stone,” he said, smiling.

  “You’re British,” Black observed, rising smoothly to his feet.

  The way he towered over Ian felt strangely deliberate.

  Ian’s hardly short. At roughly six foot even, he’s well above average.

  I hadn’t thought to hazard a guess about Black’s exact height until then. Looking at the two of them together however, I thought: Six-five? Six-six?

  “Yes,” Ian said, his lips quirking in what might have been amusement as he gazed up at Black’s face, obviously tracking the way he was using his height as well. “This surprises you?”

  “No,” Black said at once, glancing at me. “Actually, it explains some of Ms. Fox’s speech patterns. At times she uses phrasing more from your home country than her own.”

  Ian glanced at me in another silent question.

  Without waiting for my answer, he looked back at Black, right before releasing his hand.

  “You are a detective, aren’t you?” Ian teased, his voice still holding mainly friendliness and humor. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that you’d notice such a thing. Still, I imagine Miri finds it entertaining... compared to her usual sorts of clients. Most of those are a bit on the boring side, in terms of companies... isn’t that right, darling?”

  I smiled, shaking my head. “According to you, all business people are dull, Ian. Which is sort of ironic given what you do for a living...”

  “Which is what... precisely?” Black said, narrowing his gaze at Ian.

  Ian gave him a wry smile.

  “Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he said, causing me to let out an involuntary laugh. “And if you meant to flatter me by implying Miri’s picked up my speech mannerisms due to her fondness for me... or to reassure me perhaps, given that I’ve just caught my fiancée out drinking wine with a man I’ve never met... I have to commend you for being cleverer than most of her clients, too.”

  I was used to Ian’s humor, so his words didn’t really surprise me.

  I heard the faint edge there, however, which did surprise me a little.

  Ian didn’t normally bother sparring with other men in social situations, certainly not over me. Both of us were pretty laid back about the trust thing; we had been almost from the beginning. I hadn’t really seen Ian spar with other men over anything else either, come to think of it... not in a social situation, at least. He tended to reserve that for his work.

  Ian was confident, which was one of the things I liked about him.

  Even as I thought it, I found myself thinking Ian was measuring Black more closely than I’d ever seen him look at anyone, even at the few work functions of his I’d attended.

  Weirder still, he seemed to be trying to hide it.

  Was he really threatened? Had he seen me and Black talking and picked up on something? I’d never given Ian a single reason not to trust me, but he was only human.

  And Black was...

  Well, handsome wasn’t the right word.

  But if I saw Ian with a female equivalent to Black, I would definitely be threatened.

  Truthfully though, I’m much more the jealous type than Ian is. Maybe it was related to that emotional volatility that I’d struggled with as a kid, but I really had to work sometimes to keep it in check, especially with how often Ian traveled and how secretive he could be due to his job. I trusted my boyfriend, like I said, but I’d always had issues with being possessive.

  Ian usually seemed completely immune to such things. He claimed it was because he trusted me absolutely, but I suspected a lot of it was just temperament.

  But now? Looking at him, I honestly couldn’t be sure.

  I never read Ian though. Never.

  Boyfriends were even more of a hard line than friends, when it came to the psychic stuff.

  I never violated their minds. For any reason.

  Even as I thought it, Black glanced at me, his sculpted lips quirking as he slid his hands into his pockets. His whole energy changed as he did it. Moreover, it was the first time I’d seen him put his hands in his pockets at all. It was a strangely “normal” gesture for him, and kind of threw me since I hadn’t seen him do a lot of normal things in the short period I’d known him.

  Watching him interact with Ian, it struck me suddenly that both of them appeared to be wearing costumes.

  “Sorry,” Black said, rocking slightly on his heels, another normal-ish thing to do I hadn’t seen him do until then. “The detective thing can be hard to shut off. Miriam told me you were traveling for business? You’ve just returned from Bangkok, am I right?”

  I looked at Black again, sharper than I should have.

  I had no memory of telling him where Ian had gone.

  “Yes,” Ian said, smiling, his own hands now in his pockets.

  “Do you like it there?” Black asked politely.

  I noticed his gold eyes sharpened slightly after he asked it.

  Ian shrugged, glancing at me before he smiled up at Black. “It has its charms. The food is quite good. It has some stunning rooftop views... and I do enjoy haggling in the markets.”

  Black nodded, but I found myself wondering if he was even listening.

  Further, the nodding, the way he held his body, the hands in his pockets... all of it was throwing me off balance, if only because he came off as a totally different person than the one I’d been sitting with just a few minutes earlier.

  Ian seemed to be measuring Black with his eyes, too.

  “You need her for long?” he inquired politely. “I’ve only just got back, as I said. I’d hoped to surprise her at her flat, once I finished here.”

  I frowned slightly, looking back towards the bar.

  For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder why Ian was here.

  “Client’s just left, darling,” Ian explained, following the direction of my stare. Smiling, he looked back at Black. “Well? Should I wait? Or is it to be a long night for you two?”

  “At least a few hours, I’m afraid,” Black said. “Possibly more. I apologize, given the circumstances, but I’d really hoped to get her to sign a preliminary consulting contract tonight, if possible... and to check out one of the suspects in the case I’m working before he can skip town.”

  He gave Ian another strangely business-normal smile, like they were old frat buddies.

  “...It really can’t wait until tomorrow,” he added, and I noticed for the first time that the odd, difficult-to-identify accent of his had vanished too, leaving only nondescript American businessman. “I am sorry. But this suspect is a serious flight risk. The window is short.”

  Ian’s own smile didn’t waver. “Of course,” he said. “I completely understand. I have a few things I could be taking care of myself tonight, anyway.”

  “Why are you back early?” I asked Ian.

  Ian glanced at me, and from the look on his face, I wondered if my question was overly blunt. “I missed you,” he said, smiling in a rueful way. “They didn’t need me, and after our conversation yesterday, I thought perhaps I should bow out early if I could.”

  I felt my face heat as his words sank in.

  “Oh.” My surprise turned swiftly into guilt. “I’m sorry.”

  “Completely my fault. I can’t surprise people and change my schedule without telling them, only to be angry when they aren’t available.”

  There was a silence between the three of us. It felt dense that time.

  Then Ian smiled wider at Black. “Mind if I borrow her for a few? Before giving her up for the evening?”

  Black gave a st
range sort of bow, but again, something about it carried more of a regular joe business guy vibe than the alien-type body movements of his I’d noted before.

  “Of course,” he said. He smiled a 100-watt smile after he said it.

  I couldn’t help staring at him, noting the differences, until I felt Ian’s eyes on me. Then I turned, smiling at him as normally as I could.

  “Shall we?” I said, angling my body away from the corner booth.

  Ian nodded, motioning for me to lead the way, which I did.

  When I glanced back, I saw Ian and Black measuring one another a last time before a final handshake. Seeing the flat look in Ian’s eyes, I found myself thinking that my soon-to-be husband was as good of an actor as Black.

  I couldn’t decide how I felt about that, truthfully.

  Eight

  BAD GIRLFRIEND

  RATHER THAN TO the bar, Ian led me to the front door of the Cliff House restaurant.

  He waited for the hostess to get my coat from the back, taking it from her when she returned and handed it to him with a flirtatious smile. He rolled his eyes at my irritated snort, smiling at me tautly before he held the coat up for me to put on.

  “Is this new?” Ian murmured, as I slid my arms into the sleeves.

  I felt myself flush, but kept my back to him as I answered. “I left mine at home today, so I picked one up downtown.”

  “It’s nice. A bit on the clandestine side.”

  I let out a laugh, looking up at him. “What does that mean?”

  “You could be a spy in that coat.”

  “You would know,” I murmured.

  “Indeed I would.”

  I smiled. Even so, I found myself wondering again, just how long Ian had been there at the bar while Black and I had been talking.

  It wasn’t like Ian to spar with me, either.

  He didn’t say anything else until we’d walked outside. Even then, he walked me a dozen paces away from the restaurant, leading me by the hand up the sidewalk until we were on a section of dirt pathway overlooking the Sutro Baths. Nothing more than a ruin of a stone foundation remained of the baths themselves, nestled in a small bay below the southern edge of Land’s End. Looking back at the lit up restaurant and the dark ocean behind it, I took in the panorama in a quick sweep of my eyes, strangely conscious of Black, even out here.