Risky Goods: Arcane Transporter 2

by Jami Gray

  “It could, or they could create another strain of the serum.” Kerri studied us both. “Although it would be quite time consuming. Either way, it would be best to retrieve those vials as soon as possible.”

  “That’s our goal, Dr. Michaels,” Zev murmured before bringing the interview to an end.

  He asked a few more questions about Jonas and his behavior before he died. Kerri wasn’t able to share much other than that the last few days, Jonas had appeared distracted, which was unusual when they were in the midst of a project. When it became clear she had nothing more to add, we took our leave.

  We walked back to the SUV, and I said, “She’s hiding something.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “So how do we figure out what she’s not telling us?”

  Zev stopped as we got to the SUV. “We start digging.”

  “On her?” I waited for him to unlock the car then pulled open the passenger door.

  “On her and Neil.” He held it open for me as I climbed in, his face hard. “Because somehow, somewhere, those two are connected.”

  Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was heading into lunchtime when Zev pulled into a designated parking space across from the impressive collection of buildings known as Dueñas Park. Home to multiple corporate offices claimed by prominent Arcane Families, it dominated Medina Memorial Plaza with a dignified air. I followed him across the street along with a group of chattering office types. They turned left. We went right and took the cement stairs to the glass doors.

  Six months had passed since my last visit, but nothing had changed. The lobby was the epitome of corporate bland. Abstract artwork hung on walls in muted colors. Silk plants were strategically placed, while plush chairs and magazine-strewn side tables offered a place for visitors to wait for acknowledgement.

  Even the guard behind the high counter of the lobby desk was the same. As soon as he spotted Zev crossing the tile floor of the lobby, he came to attention. “Good afternoon, sir.”

  Zev barely broke stride as he dipped his chin in greeting and headed straight for the elevators. Not about to get left behind, I stuck to his side. The guard’s gaze swept over me. I caught the beginning of a frown as he shifted position to come out from behind the desk.

  “Ma’am,” he said. It came out half question, half demand.

  I slowed, but Zev, who had bypassed the main bank of elevators, looked back at the guard. “She’s with me.” His abrupt comment pulled the guard up short.

  Zev missed the guard’s nod because he turned back and stopped in front of a glossy door with no knob on the other side of the elevators. He pressed his palm against the wall, and a brush of power hit me as the security ward scanned his magical signature. The door slid silently open, and following Zev inside, I gave the watching guard a small finger wave and sly grin and earned a dark frown in return.

  “You just couldn’t resist, could you?” Zev asked after the doors closed.

  “Nope.” Perfectly pleased with myself, I grinned through the entire ride up.

  The private elevator opened into a spacious office that could easily double as an apartment. Large tinted windows made up the far wall and showcased the landscaped beauty of the plaza below. To the right, a couch and two chairs created an inviting lounge space facing a large screen hanging on the wall. A glossy-topped wood-grained streamlined desk took up the space on the left and easily held three monitors. Behind it, floor-to-ceiling storage space reigned supreme— cabinets and drawers at the ends, split by bookshelves and a work counter.

  All in all, it was stunning and not at all what I’d pictured when Zev said he had an office. Instead of having dungeon-like lighting, it was airy and bright. Plus, there were no bloodstained weapons lying about or a grim-looking cage tucked in a corner.

  I let out a low whistle as I walked through the space. “Nice digs, Zev.”

  “Thanks.” He tossed his sunglasses and phone on the desk. “I’ve got water and soda in the fridge.” He pointed toward one of the cabinets. “Help yourself.” He powered up his computer. “I’m going to see if Bryan got any video footage yet.”

  I beelined to the coffee maker in the corner of the work counter. “Something tells me I’m going to need the caffeine.” I scanned the counter for necessary items.

  “Drawer below,” he instructed without looking up.

  I pulled out the drawer and found beans, grinder, cups, and sweetener. “Cream?” I pulled out the grinder and the bag of beans.

  “Fridge.”

  With the grinder doing its thing, I opened the cabinet to the left and found a small fridge tucked inside. When the grinder fell silent, I asked, “You want anything?” I started setting up the coffee to brew.

  “I’ll take coffee, black.” He leaned over the desk, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. “Looks like Bryan sent over a few files.”

  I hit the button on the coffee maker. “Do you have another computer for me, or are we sharing?”

  The sound of wheels rolling over tile had me looking over my shoulder to see Zev pull one of the chairs from the front of his desk over to his side and park it in front of the monitor on the end. Then he came in at my back and reached for one of the cabinets sitting high on the wall. “I’ve got it set up to double as a second workstation if needed.” He brought down a slim keyboard and accompanying mouse. “I’ll get it set up, and we can get started.”

  By the time our coffee was done, he had the second computer in place and a recording queued up. The middle screen had a browser window open, and Zev was logging into a system I didn’t recognize. I handed him a cup of coffee then took my seat. “What’s that?”

  “The council database.” The screen changed, and with a rapid series of clicks, he had multiple files open on the middle screen. “This is everything Trask and Clarke submitted to the council about the Delphi project.” He opened a second window. “Arbiter database.” Then he proceeded to click through a few more options, and more windows popped up. “This is what we know about Neil Pasternak.”

  I leaned over and studied the screen. Employee records, bank accounts, social media pages, interviews with known associates, and credit card statements. It was kind of scary how much information was on there. “Do they have this much on everyone?” If so, I really needed to rethink my electronic presence.

  “No, only people we have an interest in.”

  That was not as comforting as he probably thought it was, but it was additional incentive for me to stay below the radar. “Right. Anything on Dr. Michaels?”

  “Looking now,” he murmured.

  I turned back to my monitor, which showed a black-and-white low-resolution feed of a downtown sidewalk. “What did Bryan send over?”

  “He managed to get the hotel’s video feeds and footage from two nearby cameras from the north. He’s still working his way along the most likely route from the hotel to the storage unit. If we come up empty, he’ll expand his search.”

  Great. Here’s hoping my few hours of sleep will be enough to see me through. “Any word from Imogen?”

  He checked his phone. “Just a text saying she made the request to the coroner, and they hope to have results back later today. Might be tomorrow.”

  And I’d heard zip from Evan. If I was lucky, he’d turn up something soon. “So for now, our best chance of finding Neil is hoping he shows up on camera?”

  “Yes. Or him and Kerri.”

  I wasn’t sure we’d get that lucky. “If the two are working together, I think Kerri’s keeping her nose clean.”

  “Probably, but it won’t do her any good if he decides to make a try for her.”

  “You think he’d be dumb enough to approach when she’s got eyes on her?”

  He sat back and sipped his coffee. “I think at this point, rational thought may be beyond Neil, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. Even go after Kerri.”

  “And what is it he wants?” When Zev r
aised an eyebrow in silent inquiry, I expanded. “If we’re to assume he has the serum, what is his end game?”

  “I’m going with the tried-and-true answer—he wants to get rich quick,” Zev said dryly.

  I wrinkled my nose. “All right, if we stick with that, then how is he planning on making his riches? According to Kerri, it’s a limited supply, and creating more would take time.”

  Zev used his foot to rock his chair from side to side as he played along with my what-if game. “I’m sure there are enough unscrupulous parties out there that would pay a pretty penny for a magical steroid shot. Enough to ensure that if he and Kerri are working together, both of their futures would be secured financially.”

  “I’m not arguing that. I’m just wondering, if they’re working together—or even if he’s working solo—are there specific parties lined up? A waiting list? Or would they go the auction route? And if they do decide to go with the highest bidder, how do they get the word out?”

  “My guess? Those would be the dead bodies we keep stumbling over.”

  “I don’t think so.” When he rolled his hand for more, I said, “First, we’re not even sure the deaths are connected to the serum. If they are, the message is buried and the connection lost under speculation. Second, say Neil is using bodies as examples. Wouldn’t there be more on the streets? Isn’t the whole purpose of this thing is to disrupt Arcane society? Bodies dropping would do that.”

  Instead of brushing me off, he took my questions seriously. “Maybe he’s working for someone, and that someone has him on a leash.”

  Okay, yeah, I can see that. If Neil found himself suddenly unemployed, it would make him ripe for picking by a discerning entrepreneur. “If that’s true, I’m betting he’s slipped that leash a couple of times.”

  “With Jonas,” he noted grimly.

  “And Chloe, yeah.” I stared unseeingly at the screen. “Even then, it still doesn’t make sense.”

  “Only because we don’t have enough information.” Zev sat up, set his coffee on the desk, and pulled his chair in. “Which is why we’re here now. Time to put all the pieces together and figure out what he’ll do next.”

  Resigned to enduring my frustration, at least for the moment, I made a noncommittal noise. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”

  “Well…” He shot me a grin. “At least you get to spend it with me.”

  I lifted my cup and returned his grin with one of my own. “There is that.” Then I settled in and started up the recording.

  A few hours later, Zev called in a delivery so we wouldn’t have to leave—not that I would have minded the break—and we had lunch when it arrived. As I was finishing up the last of my Philly cheesesteak sandwich, I got a text from Evan: Check your inbox.

  I shoved the last bite in my mouth and wiped my fingers on a napkin before chucking it into the trash. Then I went to the computer and pulled up my email, swallowing the last of my lunch. I must have made a sound of surprise because Zev asked, “What?”

  “I asked Evan to do a little digging for me. Looks like he found something.”

  As I scanned the contents, Zev dragged his chair over until our armrests bumped. I called Evan and put him on speaker, barely waiting for him to say hello before I asked, “Tell me what I’m looking at.”

  “Your request for info on your four names was fairly straightforward with only a couple of interesting blips. The biggest one is the email you’re looking at from a Jonas Gainer to a Dr. Kerri Michaels dated the day before he died. Normally, I wouldn’t bat an eyelash at it, but someone did a piss-poor job of deleting it from his email the day after he stopped breathing. As you can see, it looks like he wanted to discuss data discrepancies on a current project. Details are deliberately vague.”

  I ignored the not-so-subtle inquiry and considered this new puzzle piece. Jonas had already blown the whistle once, and that had triggered the events that led Origin to discover Lara Kaspar’s duplicity. Now here he was raising the alarm for a second time, something Kerri had failed to mention. Clearly, Jonas had no trouble making waves, and it made me wonder how big those waves got before they sucked him under. Catching the grim lines on Zev’s face, I could tell he was coming to similar unhappy conclusions.

  On the phone, Evan was oblivious to our silent conjectures. “The most interesting bit in this email is who he blind copied.”

  My gaze shot to the email and the name highlighted in the recovered email header. “Stephen Trask.”

  “Which means whatever Jonas was concerned about had to be serious enough to involve the CEO of Origin. Then there’s the fact that out of the four names you gave me, two are dead.” He was quiet, probably waiting for me to say something. When I didn’t, he continued. “Typically I wouldn’t be worried about what you’re up to, Rory, but I have to ask, are you good?”

  “She’s fine,” Zev said before I could answer. He was glaring at the screen.

  There was a pregnant pause on the phone, then Evan said, “Right. Moving on. Quick recap on the other names you gave me. Dr. Kerri Michaels. I wasn’t able to find out much more than what you said you already had—her vitals, education, past job experience. Didn’t find any formal complaints filed anywhere, and from what I can tell, she lives for her work. Much like her dead research partner, Jonas. However, he was considered an up-and-coming innovative mind in nanotech research. In fact, he contributed to a couple of highly regarded professional papers, mainly based on the cutting-edge projects he completed during his internship.”

  Hearing that, all the reasons why someone skilled in nanotech would be asked to join a project involving the creation of a world-altering serum made me swallow hard. I wasn’t the only one haunted by foreboding. When I dared to look at Zev, I didn’t think it was possible, but his face was even grimmer than before.

  Not privy to our thoughts, Evan finished up. “Info on Chloe Sellares—also deceased, was fairly straightforward, no flags, and I included that in my second email to you. As for Neil Pasternak, I ran into blocks as soon as I tried to dig down. I didn’t want to push it until I checked in with you.”

  I thought of all the data Zev already had on Neil and whoever might be behind those blocks. “Don’t. We’re fine.”

  “Right.” Fortunately, Evan didn’t push it and finished up his informal report. “Back to the blips. The second blip also came from Jonas. I did a basic phone trace. For the most part, you can pretty much set your watch by his routine. To and from home and work, a few side trips for food, tends to hit sandwich shops with the occasional splurge for pizza, artisan style with the weird toppings. There were a couple of coffee runs to a local shop, generally first thing in the morning. Hit the gym a couple times a week, probably to offset the desk time. But a week before his death, his phone put his location over by Salt River in a neighborhood that was not part of his regular haunts, nor did he make a return trip. It’s in the secondary email as well.”

  “Thanks, Evan.”

  “I’d say anytime, but I know better.” With that, he hung up.

  I clicked over to the second email and read through the basic info Evan had gathered on Chloe, Kerri, and what little he had on Neil. When I got to Jonas, I zeroed in on the address Evan had mentioned. I plugged it into the maps site on screen, and a familiar beige building came up.

  “Dammit,” Zev muttered as we both stared at the screenshot of the building holding Neil’s makeshift lab.

  I rubbed my face, my head aching, my eyes burning. I knew what this meant. “Did we ever get any footage from around there?” I remembered that we intended to, but then Zev got called off and I headed over to Umber’s. I couldn’t remember if one of the others ever managed to get anything. The days were starting to blur—never a good sign.

  Zev was working on his computer, scrolling through windows until he found the one he wanted. “Looks like Bryan got a couple, but I’ll see if he or Imogen can get back over there and nose around, find out if anyone will talk.” His fingers flew as he se
nt a group text from the desktop, and my phone buzzed a few moments after he hit Send.

  This time, when we went back to the recordings, there was a low-level tension that followed, broken only when a return text came in from Bryan, confirming he’d go back to the neighborhood and see what he could turn up. Imogen’s response followed a few minutes later, indicating she’d join up with him and help.

  Zev and I spent the next few hours slogging through grainy video recordings and piles of information, some of it so mundane I wanted to stab my eyes out. I did find a couple of images that I thought might be Neil and Jonas, but the resolution was for crap, so I marked them for follow-up. Someone with more expertise than me could take the smudged figures and sharpen them into something recognizable. If they were legit sightings, we had Neil making his way from the lab to the hotel then disappearing the day before we came knocking at his home away from home. As for the possible Jonas image, it put him near the makeshift lab, but there was nothing catching him at the lab itself.

  By the time evening closed in, I couldn’t take it anymore. Bryan and Imogen kept sending in more and more footage until I dreaded the chime indicating incoming email. We made some headway, but there were still hours more ahead of us. My back ached, my head pounded, and my eyes were on fire, so I pushed up from the desk and stretched.

  “You okay?” Zev eyed me from where he was sprawled out in his chair. His jaw was shadowed, and his eyes were red, proof I wasn’t the only one suffering.

  “I need a break.”

  He jerked his head toward the couch. “Use the couch. Take an hour.”

  Not about to argue, I stumbled over and fell face-first into the cushions. In moments, I was drifting, and it was a welcome relief from the headache and eyestrain.

  I stayed in that place out of time until a weight shook my shoulder and Zev’s voice brought me back. “Rory, wake up.”

  I blinked until Zev came into focus. When he saw I was awake, he turned back to the desk and starting talking. “Imogen’s on the line with the coroner’s report.”