“He’s psychotic,” Rebecca said in a cold voice.
“You’re the one who’s psychotic.”
“I spent some time with him too, if you remember,” Rebecca said. “He’s crazy. Certainly capable of doing a lot more harm than good.”
“I think you have him mixed up with yourself. You’re the only one I ever saw gun anyone down in cold blood. Yet here you are!”
The door popped open. A black agent filled the doorway. His head was shaved clean, and he had a dangerous look about him. “Everything okay?”
Cyrus gave him a nod. “We’re fine, Calhoun.”
The man closed the door behind him, but not without giving Sid the eyeball first.
Her skin prickled. “Calhoun? I thought he was fired. I thought he was in prison!”
“That’s not your concern, Agent—I mean Sid.” Cyrus took out his iPad and pulled something up on the screen. He set it down in front of Sid. “Now, I need you to watch this closely.”
She did.
It was video surveillance footage from the new homeless center. It started out on the open streets where a man in a raincoat, on foot, weaved through the traffic in the pouring rain. He made his way up the steps and tilted his chin up just high enough for the camera to get a perfect shot of his face.
It was Smoke. No question about it. Even the height and build were right.
Heart empty, Sid glanced up at Cyrus.
“Keep watching if you’re not convinced,” he said.
New footage continued inside the shelter. Dripping-wet people from all walks of life were standing inside the lobby. Smoke stood among them, half a head taller than all the rest at least, wearing a Washington Redskins ball cap.
In front of the crowd was a podium where Congressman Wilhelm was making a speech. There wasn’t any audio, though. Just a camera shot right over Wilhelm’s shoulder and into the crowd.
Not too far into the speech, Smoke pushed his way through the throng, aimed his semi-automatic pistol, and cracked off several shots.
Wilhelm fell.
Everyone scattered, and Smoke disappeared with the masses.
Sid’s stomach seeped down into her toes. “It can’t be him.”
Cyrus put the iPad in his coat pocket. “Sorry, Sid, but it’s him. And you need to do whatever you can to help us bring him to justice. Anything you can think of that will make this easier will make a difference.”
Sid’s throat was dry and she didn’t have any words to say. She’d seen him on the video. But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. There was no reason for him to do something like that. Not unless there was something else. Something bigger that no one else knew about. Maybe the Drake had blackmailed him. Feebly, she managed to say, “I assume you checked his place?”
“It’s clear. No sign of him anywhere. We’re keeping an eye on it though.” Cyrus took a seat on the barstool and sat with his hands clasped together. “Have you and him talked about your relationship with Wilhelm?”
“He knows enough. I don’t like Wilhelm. Neither of them. And they don’t like me.”
“Be careful what you say, Sid.”
“Well shit, Cyrus. You make it sound like I pulled the trigger. I didn’t!” She caught Rebecca rummaging through one of her end-table drawers. “Excuse me, do you have a warrant?”
“This is interesting.” Rebecca held the ring box in her hand, opened it up. “Wow. That’s one fine rock. Where did you get this?”
“Let me see,” Cyrus said.
Rebecca tossed it over.
He snatched it from the air. “Whoa. That is impressive. An engagement ring, Sid?” His expression was twisted. “Who gave this to you?”
“That’s none of your business.” She averted her eyes for some reason. “Long story, just hand it over.”
“No,” Cyrus said, “I think I’d like to hear that story. Hmmm.” He tapped the ring box on his chin. “There’s only one man in your life that I know of. Is this ring from John Smoke?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She held out her hand. “Hand it over, please.”
Cyrus removed his spectacles and huffed on the lenses. He cleaned them with his tie and placed them back on his head. He brought the ring in for a closer look. “My, I can’t see a single inclusion, and it’s so … white. Mister Smoke gave you this, didn’t he?”
Sid didn’t reply.
“Well, it’s certainly a superior product compared to the one I presented you with. It kinda makes me feel like a turd.”
“Excuse me?” Rebecca said, tapping her foot on the floor.
“Nothing, dear,” he said, still gazing at the stone. “So when did he give this to you?”
Sid didn’t want to say it, but she did anyway. “Today.”
“Hmmm, interesting timing. You know, until today, we were working on another case. A jewel heist of sorts. I hate to break it to you, Sid, but I believe this ring was stolen.”
CHAPTER 10
Sid sat with her face in her hands.
It can’t be true. It just can’t be true.
Her heart told her one thing, the presented evidence said another. The pragmatic side clashed with the gut. Doubt swelled inside her. If there was one thing she was sure of, Smoke was a good man. But he might just be crazy.
“We could take you in for possession of stolen goods,” Rebecca said. She’d found one of Sid’s emery boards and started to file her nails. “Not to mention the fact that you might be an accomplice to murder. Aiding and abetting a known fugitive. Tsk tsk. Looks like the deck is quickly stacking against you.”
“You’re really starting to get on my nerves,” Sid said to Rebecca. She faced Cyrus. “You know I don’t have anything do to with this, right?”
“That’s not for me to decide, Sid. Love can do funny things to a person. For all I know, you and Smoke might be today’s Bonnie and Clyde. And you know how the FBI is. They don’t like to take any chances.” He picked up a picture frame that stood on the end table. It was an image of Megan. “And people not only do unordinary things, but sometimes extraordinary things for family.” He glanced at Rebecca.
She gave him a little shrug.
He got up and straightened his tie. “Sid, if you know or find out anything, I’d better know first. Don’t leave town.”
Really? Wow.
She found Rebecca’s face.
The mousy woman seemed satisfied.
“I won’t.”
Cyrus closed the ring box and stuffed it in his pocket. “I need to check this out. I’ll let you know.”
As soon as Cyrus and Rebecca departed, Sid took a long, shuddering breath. Her head pounded. Life was upside down again.
Smoke, what have you done to me!
She took a peek through the blinds.
The parking lot was in full view. A little farther down the lot was a black Chevy SUV. She wasn’t certain, but it looked like Agent Calhoun was in the driver’s seat.
Great!
She wanted to go see Sam and Guppy, but that would be a bad move. That left her with nobody to talk to. The only other ally she thought she had was Smoke, and maybe Mal Carlson, but she hadn’t heard from Mal in what seemed to be forever. Wringing her hands, she sat down and watched the TV again.
It was all over the news. Every major network. It seemed like every channel.
It isn’t every day that a high-ranking Washington official is shot. Even though Augustus Wilhelm is a good start.
She squeezed her temples.
Don’t even think it, Sid. Geez!
Her phone buzzed. An image of her friend Sadie from the FBI office popped up.
“Hey,” Sid said.
“Hey, are you all right?” Sadie said. She sounded really worried.
Pacing throughout the apartment, Sid said, “You have no idea. Cyrus and Rebecca just left. Look, Sadie, don’t get involved in this—”
Her phone vibrated. Her mother Sally was calling.
“Crap. My mom’s on the other line. Look, I�
�ll check back in with you. I’m fine.”
“Just let me know if you need anything, Sid,” Sadie said. “You know you can count on me.”
“I will.” Sid switched lines. “Hi, Mom.”
Her mother was all over the place. The woman couldn’t even get a complete sentence out.
“Mom, slow down. I’m all right. … No, I don’t think it’s him, it just looks like him. … Yes, I know he seemed like a nice guy. … No, I’m not in any danger. … I don’t need money. … No, don’t come down here.”
Sally rambled on and on.
Sid paced. She found a notebook of paper and slapped it on the table. She put the phone on speaker, set it on the counter, and began scribbling down notes, half listening to her mother as she wrote. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”
Watching the television, she jotted down the dates and times the reporters gave. She noted the hospital. Paid attention to the details on the police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks. She watched the replays of the brutal shooting, looking for things that she should and shouldn’t see. She wrote down the times that Smoke, Cyrus, and Rebecca had come and gone. She included the things they’d said and not said, too.
“Sidney, are you there? Are you listening to me?” Sally asked on the other line. “And you know your father can’t handle all this excitement. He doesn’t know that I’m calling. Don’t you dare call him.”
“I won’t, Mom. Look, I need to run some errands while all of this mess gets sorted out. My love to you and Dad. Got to go.”
“But––"
Sid disconnected and sagged onto the counter. “Morning Glory, who’s going to call next?”
In case her line was being tapped, it was good that she’d maintained a normal conversation. That was real. Genuine. It would be odd if no one called at all. That would have aroused more suspicion.
All of a sudden, Sid sat up straight.
Damn, they probably planted a bug.
Gently she inspected every place Cyrus and Rebecca had been. Thankfully, they’d been confined to the kitchen/living room the entire time. Sid ran her fingers under the counters and tables, and then she rummaged through her two plants and vases.
Nothing, but it doesn’t feel like nothing.
Eyeing the room and spinning around slowly, she saw one place she’d almost overlooked: the picture of her and Megan. Without touching the frame, she bent over and took a look behind it. There was a tiny black chip mounted on the velvet back of the frame.
Ah-hah.
Her phone buzzed again. She walked over and picked it up. The screen was blank. It buzzed again, but not in her hand. It came from somewhere else.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Standing inside her kitchen, Sid slowly spun around.
There.
The sound came from inside a set of jars for baking ingredients. They’d been a house-warming gift from her mother, and not a single grain of salt, flour, or sugar had ever been placed in any of them.
Sid took the lid off of the one in the middle and found a burner phone.
Oh my. It’s got to be Smoke.
She answered and put the phone to her ear.
“Ah, Sid. Don’t say a word. We need to meet. The Reflecting Pool. Forty minutes. I’ll find you.” The line went dead. It had not been Smoke.
CHAPTER 11
Sidney threw on a half-dry pair of blue jeans, gathered some gear into a backpack, and headed out the door. The hard rains had subsided, and she made her way across the water puddles and opened the door of her car. The automobile, a dark-blue 1995 mustang GT, wasn’t the Hellcat, but it was cheap. Lousy on fuel but good on speed. The door groaned as she closed it and fired the engine up. Three seconds later she was on the wet main roadway. At the first stoplight she checked the rearview mirror.
“Ah, there you are.”
Agent Calhoun was four cars behind her. She could see him hunched over the steering wheel. There was a story about him. Several that she recalled. He abused power. Abused criminals. He’d even abused his supervisor. A couple of witnesses had died in his protection. Fleeing criminals had been blown away—and one of his partners, an agent named Muriel Davis, had vanished without a trace. There were question marks all over the man. He was supposed to be gone. He was a troublemaker, but he was back—and with eyes on Sid.
“So, how do I lose him?” She tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel. The light turned green. She didn’t move. It couldn’t have been a split second later when the honking started. Horns blared. Car windows filled with angry faces. Sid got out of her car and threw her arms up. “Sorry.”
That was when the obscenities started. Everything foul from A to Z with many F’s in between. Not one person offered to help.
So much for chivalry.
Sid popped the hood and checked the engine.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the other lanes of traffic blast by until the light turned yellow. She slammed the hood shut and jumped back into her car. She stomped the gas as the light turned red and cruised through the intersection unmolested. Agent Calhoun sat stuck in his lane. His hands slapped the steering wheel.
Sid smiled. “Thanks, Dad. If you hadn’t made me watch ‘Beverly Hills Cop’ with you twenty times, I might never have thought of that.” She chuckled. “Every cloud really does have a silver lining.”
***
It didn’t take long for her to get to the Reflecting Pool. She even parked in her usual spot. After getting out of the car, she slung the backpack over her shoulder and headed for the pool.
There weren’t many people out. The rain was between a mist and drizzle. The Reflecting Pool was usually a pretty popular place during lunchtime. Plenty of joggers, walkers, and tourists. But not today. It was quiet.
Sid tied her hair back and started walking.
Great.
As she headed toward the Lincoln Memorial, a flash of light caught her eye. She figured someone was taking a picture with a huge flash until the light hit her in the face again. Picking up the pace, she marched up the stairs and inside the monument where Abe Lincoln sat. He wasn’t alone.
A wrinkle-faced man with soft blue eyes and brown hair wore a black trench coat and was chewing gum. It was Leroy Sullivan.
“I thought you were dead,” Sid said, walking up to him.
“Oh, you should know better by now. You can’t believe everything you hear.” Leroy stuck out his hand. “Gum?”
“No thanks.”
“It’s everlasting cinnamon.”
“Don’t you know by now that nothing lasts forever?” she said.
Leroy half cackled and half laughed. “Shit, that was kinda funny. Good for you, Sid.” He tucked the gum away. “So, my little buddies Cyrus and Rebecca paid you a visit. Told you I was dead. Boy, they’re something, aren’t they?”
“So they know you’re alive?”
“Oh yeah. They’re just trying to cut me out of the Black Slate. You see, they want control of it, and they don’t have that. Some people just can’t stand to not have control of everything. That’s the problem with this country. Well, the world for that matter. Anyway.” He came closer and put his arm over her shoulders. “We got a helluva problem. The manhunt for John Smoke has begun.”
“So you don’t think he did it?”
“If he did it, he wasn’t in his right mind when he did. There’s always things, dangerous things, lingering out there. Mind control. Hypnosis. It would be mighty hard to get him to go against his nature, but they want him off the streets. You two are causing problems. They don’t like it.”
“How can we clear him? I mean, there’s video. Eyewitnesses.”
“Yes,” he said with some admiration. “Clever, aren’t they. The only thing I can tell you is that you need to find out who really did it. But Sid, it could be him. And if Congressman Wilhelm doesn’t survive, then this will never be over with. Even if he does survive, I’m not sure Smoke won’t be buried out of sigh
t for a long, long time.”
“How am I supposed to do anything with the FBI all over my ass?”
“I’ll take care of that.” He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s time to suit up, soldier.”
“So I’m supposed to trust you now?”
“You don’t really have anyone else.” He handed her a set of keys and pointed back to the parking lot with his other thumb. “Everything you need is in the car.”
“What about my Mustang?”
He offered his palm. “I’ll see that it’s properly retired. Goodbye, Sid. And happy hunting.”
CHAPTER 12
Hands stuffed in her pockets, Sid made the long walk back to the parking lot. She hadn’t even looked at the keys Leroy had given her. Instead, she squeezed them tight.
Where am I even supposed to start?
Deep in thought, she kept walking, eyes forward, not really paying attention to what was ahead of her until she stood in the space where her car should have been.
Where’s my car?
She spun around. The old Mustang was gone without a trace. She checked the keys in her hand. Dodge. With a curious look on her face, she pressed the auto-start button. A throaty engine note followed.
Vrrrooooom!
About ten car spaces away and partially concealed by a silver Volvo crossover rumbled a Dodge Challenger. Sid closed the gap between her and it and came face to face with a new phantom-black Hellcat. Her fingers tingled. “I’ll be.”
She ran her fingers over the triple coat of black on the hood. Traced the edges of the orange racing stripes. It was just like the one she had lost, but better. She opened the door and sat inside. The leather welcomed her like an old friend. She checked the console and glove box. All of her belongings were there. The registration and insurance were even in her name. She revved it up. “Purr, Hellcat, purr.”
Vrrrooooom! Vrrrooooom! Vrrrooooom!
A charge went through her. New life. Exhilaration. She rubbed the dash, leaned back, and with one leg still hanging out the door she took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Man, I love fast cars.”
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series Page 58