The Imaginary (The Imago Trilogy Book 2)

by J. J. Stone

  As he stepped past her toward the door, anger flickered in Ada’s stomach and she whipped around in her chair. “I’m not one of your agents, Deacon.”

  He stopped and his shoulders tensed.

  Ada knew calling him by his last name would get him. Her courage grew. “I thought maybe we’d moved past you viewing me as a boil on your backside, but I guess not.”

  James turned on his heels and crossed his arms defiantly across his chest. “No, I fully understand the situation, Brandt.” He said her last name like it was a curse. “You’re not here of your own free will. I’m the jerk that keeps dragging you around the country, intruding on your life.”

  Ada saw the strange hurt return to James’s eyes, and she realized too late that maybe James had been trying to treat her like she was one of his team members. He was attempting, in his own way, to make her feel like she belonged. A rush of apologies crowded behind her lips, but as she opened her mouth to let them spill out, James flicked a hand up to stop her.

  “I don’t need to hear any more from you. I know where you stand with all this.” He shook his head and the corners of his jaw tightened. “I’ll make sure you’re back in your classroom in no time.”

  He left the room without another word, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Ada remained in her seat for a few moments, trying to process what had just happened. When had James decided to attempt a friendship with her? Janice’s feelings toward Ada now felt entirely valid, and Ada felt like the butt of a cruel joke that everyone else was in on except her.

  She heard Dade and Brenda’s voices in the hallway as they returned with dinner. Shelving what had just transpired, Ada stood, planted a smile on her face, and went to retrieve her dinner.

  CHAPTER 5

  Andrew reluctantly let his eyes slide open and waited a moment for the sleepy fuzziness to dissolve. As his surroundings came into focus, a flash of panic shot through his body. He rose onto his elbows and fought to recall where he was. Slowly, the previous night’s events began to crawl back through his mind, and he relaxed back into the mattress.

  He had moved to a hotel about 20 miles away from where he had been holed up since arriving in Sacramento. Sakima had called him two days ago to let him know that the FBI had already rolled into town. He advised Andrew to lay low for a couple of days to try to throw the FBI off any pattern Andrew might have left.

  Across the hotel room, the refrigerator crammed into the rickety wet bar rumbled to life. Andrew pressed his chin to his chest as he looked at the fridge. He mentally rationed the remaining jars nestled inside. He had about two days’ worth of supply before he would need to replenish, which meant venturing out of the safety of his hotel cave and risking running into the FBI.

  Wincing at his pounding head, Andrew grunted and pushed himself upright, groping around in the sheets for the handful of mini bottles he’d heard clinking around all night. His fingers found one and he fumbled with the cap. He rimmed the bottle with dry lips and chugged. Cheap rum burned its way down to his stomach, leaving a warm buzz in its wake. He sucked the bottle dry and flung it away.

  He picked up the TV remote from the small table beside the bed and turned on the slightly grimy television set. A female newscaster with an obnoxious bouffant recited the latest update on the weather front that was coming into the area that night. Rain and more rain. That would make a potential midnight hunt all the more difficult.

  Leaving the TV droning, Andrew slowly left the bed and went to the fridge. He sank down to his knees and pried the door open, careful not to disrupt the jars inside. As he took in his bounty, he decided to do an impromptu quality check. Just to be sure.

  He removed a jar and pulled it out of its paper bag sheath. Twisting carefully, he removed the airtight lid and set it down on the floor. He rearranged his legs into a crossed position and took a moment to analyze the ruby liquid languishing inside the jar. He brought the jar to just below his nostrils and inhaled. The scent was too much. He gingerly dipped the very tip of his pinky into the jar and placed the sample into his salivating mouth. The syrupy liquid slid smoothly down his tongue and into his throat, immersing his taste buds in a tangy metallic bath.

  Andrew closed his eyes as he recalled the night he collected this particular jar of blood. He had spent all day tracking the homeless man, watching what he ate to make sure the blood would not be tainted. This particular vagrant had been admirably picky about the scraps he devoured, so Andrew had been comfortable with using him.

  Immobilizing the man had been almost too easy. A coffee laced with sedative rendered the man unconscious just as Andrew got the two of them a taxi. The taxi driver had seemed slightly alarmed at first, but quickly bought Andrew’s sob story about his “drunk grandfather” and how he spent the past week dragging him from the local bars. The driver even helped Andrew carry the old man into the hotel room.

  A few precise incisions later, Andrew filled more jars than he had anticipated. From this man, he also procured a kidney, which was tucked in the fridge behind the four remaining jars. Andrew had hoped to find a hotel with a kitchen so he could try out one of his aunt’s recipes with the organ. Such amenities were not as common as he’d thought.

  Not wanting to risk ruining the jar’s precious contents any longer, Andrew recapped it and placed it back in the paper bag. He set it back on the bowing fridge shelf and shut the door again. He ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, reactivating the last traces of blood against his famished taste buds. Tears sprouted behind his lowered eyelids. The past two weeks had gifted him with the most intense emotions he’d ever experienced. He felt invigorated, driven … alive. He could not imagine ever being capable enough of thanking Sakima for the precious treasure he had helped Andrew uncover. He would try, though. He would make sure that no matter what happened, his mentor would never doubt that Andrew was anything but grateful.

  ——

  Janice watched Ada twirl the ends of her chestnut hair through the fingers of her left hand while her right hand scrolled through yet another police report on the laptop. It was day three of the BAU’s stay in Sacramento and Janice had spent most of her time sharing an office with the other analyst. As much as she hated to admit it, Janice no longer loathed the very sight of Ada. The past 24 hours had seen the two of them gathering any and all case details into a profile for the team to hand over to the police.

  When the case files temporarily overloaded their brains, the two women would distract themselves with casual conversation. Janice, of course, made sure to share only minimal information about herself, but Ada was an open book. Janice now knew what drink her Uncle Mike liked, when her dog’s birthday was, what size shoe she wore. The growing library of random Ada Brandt knowledge was pooling quickly in the small section of mental space Janice had allotted for useless information.

  Janice wasn’t really sure what she had expected a serial killer’s daughter to be like. Part of her had mentally conjured an unkempt, mousy recluse whose pale skin and poor speaking skills were a direct result of the life of public scorn her infamous father had damned her to. Another part of her had pictured a chatty, victim-playing brat looking for a book and movie deal combo to help support her flamboyant lifestyle.

  In the end, Ada Brandt was neither of Janice’s manifestations. She was a normal woman with normal interests whose father just so happened to have murdered a handful of women when she was a child. Janice hated the feeling the moment it arose, but she realized that Ada was someone she could be friends with. High praise, given the scant number of human beings on the planet Janice would deem “friends.”

  Another fear that Janice had been able to put to bed was that she was losing James and her job to Ada. Two things were growing increasingly obvious to Janice: Ada was not looking to make her role with the BAU permanent, and she and James could only tolerate each other long enough to complete the tasks at hand. Just that morn
ing, Janice had fully expected them to come to blows when Ada asked to be allowed to continue assisting on the case from Seattle and James denied her request before she’d even finished giving it. What was causing the animosity between them, Janice had no idea, but she liked it. Not only did it provide her with job security, it also left James in a perpetually tense mood, which made their late-night rendezvouses all the more intense.

  Across the table, Ada groaned and reclined back in her chair. “If I look at one more crime scene report …”

  Janice gave her a small smile and pulled the laptop to her. “I can take over for a little while.”

  “I can get us something to drink, if you want.” Ada uncomfortably rose to her feet and flexed her back.

  Janice shrugged. “Sure, a water sounds good.” She almost told the analyst to stop trying so hard but decided to continue reaping the benefits of Ada’s attempts at friendship a little while longer.

  Ada gave her a warm grin and breezed out of the room.

  Janice sagged in her chair and sighed deeply. She needed to get out of this station. She had prayed multiple times that day for another body to be found. That would at least get some activity going.

  Weary, she planted her elbows on the table and rested her forehead against her palms. Her dark hair fell down like curtains around her face, shielding her temporarily from the fluorescent lamps overhead. She closed her eyes and winced as they burned slightly.

  Two hands pressed against the tops of her shoulders and squeezed mercilessly. She shouted and flinched back, ramming her head into James’s stomach. He grunted and removed his hands from her shoulders, rubbing the spot where her head had made contact. “I’ll announce myself next time,” he said in a slightly pained voice.

  Janice cursed under her breath and stood. She pressed a hand to her right shoulder and frowned. “That hurt, Deacon.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I was walking by and saw you slumped over. Figured maybe you needed a break.”

  Regretting snapping at him, Janice closed the distance between them and laced her arms around his neck, pulling his face down close to hers. “Lunch back at the hotel room does sound nice,” she whispered.

  He looked into her eyes for a moment and Janice felt a wave of pride at the battle waging in his gaze. The James Deacon of a few weeks ago would not have even touched her outside of the seclusion of a hotel room. Now he was giving her impromptu massages and contemplating leaving his post in the middle of the day. This new James Deacon was a decided leap in the right direction.

  Her victory was short lived as James removed her arms from around his neck and moved back a step, placing a respectable amount of space between them. He pressed his hands around hers for a fleeting moment then lowered them to her side. He put his hands in his pockets and glanced around the room. “Where’s Ada?”

  The mention of Ada doused her like a bucket of ice-cold water. Janice rolled her eyes and brushed her fingers through the ends of her hair. “We’re taking a break. She should be back soon.”

  James nodded and stared at a water stain on the ceiling of the interview room. “I’m glad you two are finally getting along.”

  Janice shrugged. “We’re both professionals. And we both want to get the hell out of here sometime in the near future.”

  Ada appeared in the doorway and the grin on her face faded as soon as she saw James. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  James gave her a forced grin and dismissive wave. “I was just here to get an update.”

  Ada stepped into the room like the floor was made of eggshells. She put the water bottles in her hands onto the table and sat down in her seat, pointedly avoiding eye contact with James. “I think we’ll be ready to hand everything over to you in about an hour. Right?” She looked up at Janice hopefully.

  Slightly confused, Janice nodded slowly and looked away from Ada. She gave James a tight smirk and waved toward the door. “We’ll find you when we’re ready.”

  After James had vacated the room, Janice stomped to the door and shut it. She whipped around to Ada and watched the endearing grin on her face slip. Janice guessed she wasn’t hiding her exasperation as well as she thought. “Really, though. Why does the air leave the room every time you and Deacon are within fifty feet of each other?” Janice demanded, resting back against the door.

  Ada’s cheeks flushed crimson and she pretended to be highly interested in something on the computer screen. “It doesn’t,” she said quietly.

  Fed up with the act, Janice crossed the room in two strides and slammed the laptop shut, nearly trapping Ada’s hands. “Seriously, Brandt.”

  Ada seemed to run through a few responses in her head before she finally licked her lips and replied, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about … anything.”

  Janice narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, ever since we met, I feel like you think I’m here maliciously.” Ada squared her shoulders and met Janice with the first honest look she’d seen in days. “I’m not here to move in on your territory or replace you or,” Ada paused, visibly uncomfortable with what came out next, “take James.”

  Janice was only able hold back her laughter for a few seconds before it tumbled out of her mouth, filling the room. She managed to control her voice long enough to gasp, “You thought I was threatened by you?”

  Ada shrugged, slight confusion touching her face. “I guess I was wrong?”

  Janice sank into her seat and shook her head, wiping away a hysteric tear. “I knew you weren’t here to take my job, Brandt. I’m not that insecure,” Janice lied. She sniffed as she steadied her breathing and fixed a firm look across the table at Ada. “And I’m not worried about losing James Deacon, solely because there’s nothing to lose.”

  Ada ducked her head to avoid Janice’s gaze. “I mean, I know you two are …”

  “Together?” Janice finished for her. When Ada answered with a small nod, Janice shook her head and sneered. “Brenda needs to learn to keep her opinions to herself.”

  Ada visibly bristled at Janice’s diss of her friend. She looked up at her and raised a brow. “So you aren’t …” She seemed incapable of saying anything remotely indecent.

  “Oh, we are. It’s just not something that I would classify as ‘together.’” Janice held her fingers up in quotes. “I am not the first analyst James Deacon has hooked up with, and I can guarantee you I won’t be the last.”

  Ada pitched back in her seat, trying to not look too interested. “So this is what he does? Just … hooks up with the team’s analyst?”

  Janice frowned at her, feigning a wounded look. “Let’s not make me sound like too much of a whore, please.”

  Ada snorted a quick chuckle and clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle any further laughter.

  “I don’t think he started doing it intentionally. The analyst before me was the first one. She was only with the team for four months. Then she was ‘let go’ and I got promoted to the BAU. Within a couple of weeks, he was giving me a key to his hotel room when we went on cases.” A Cheshire cat grin spread Janice’s lips.

  Ada processed this new revelation, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why was the other analyst let go?”

  Janice shrugged. “He’s never given me a straight answer on that. From what other people have told me, she started to get clingy. So James cut her loose.” The mirth left Janice’s voice. “James is … different.”

  Rather than the snide remark Janice expected, Ada frowned. “How so?”

  “Most guys I’ve been with have all but begged me to marry them, stay with them forever. James … I’m just stress relief for him. He couldn’t care less about me.” Janice shrugged, trying to maintain her facade. “Which is fine. I didn’t want anything official, anyway. So in the end, it works for both of us.”

 
“Still. That can’t feel good,” Ada pushed.

  Janice shot her a searing glare. “We’re not talking about this anymore,” she hissed. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t hate you and I’m not threatened by you.” She waited for Ada to look at her. “So let’s just move on. Please.” To fully sway Ada, she planted a moderately friendly smile on her lips.

  Ada seemed a bit unsettled by the drastic conversation shift. She didn’t respond at first, but soon shook everything off and opened the computer again. “Back to case files it is.”

  ——

  Andrew felt the boy’s head sag against him and cursed at himself for not remembering to adjust the sedative dose. The rain was pouring down in battering sheets, and the streets were oddly empty for this time of night. There was no way Andrew would be able to get back to his hotel room on foot, not if he had to haul a completely limp twelve-year-old the entire way. He needed a taxi.

  As if on cue, car tires slurped down the drenched street behind him. Andrew whipped around and frantically waved his free hand in the air as the yellow cab neared him. The car crawled to a stop alongside Andrew, and the driver edged toward the curb as close as he could without mounting it.

  As nonchalantly as possible, Andrew propped the boy upright with his left arm and yanked the taxi door open with his right hand. “Bluemont Inn,” Andrew said as he slid himself and the boy into the backseat, their wet clothes squeaking against the creased pleather. Andrew removed his small duffle bag off his shoulder and set it on the seat beside him.

  The cab driver stared at him in the rearview mirror, his squinted eyes fixed on the boy. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Andrew grinned and held up a reassuring hand. “Nothing’s wrong. He’s just beat! It’s been a long week at school.”

  The driver remained grim but put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.