“Langston, chill. I worked it into the conversation.”
“You worked spying on Dr. Pillay and Antoinette into the conversation? And when did you talk to Dana?”
“Like twenty minutes ago. I told her I was doing the food run for lunch, and she asked for a salad.”
“And?”
“And I lied and told her that I’d seen Antoinette in Dr. Pillay’s office.”
“Unbelievable.”
“What? We always ask when we see a new face around here. Trust me, Dana didn’t think it was weird. I was like, ‘Who was that woman here with Dr. Pillay before Christmas? The one with the orange suit?’ Dana told me her name was Antoinette.”
Langston smirked. “I already told you that. Great work, detective.”
“Okay, genius. Then I guess you don’t want to know that he has another appointment with her this afternoon. Two o’clock.” Everett splayed out his greasy, salt-laden fingers. “Boom.”
Langston raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Everett said.
Langston checked his watch. “Two o’clock?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“I might have to accidentally run into her.”
Everett leaned back in his chair. “Be careful. She seems like she doesn’t play around.”
There was a cursory knock before the door flew open.
“What’s up?” Cody said to Langston before looking at Everett. His cheeks were flushed, and he sounded winded. “You went on a food run?”
“Yeah,” Everett said.
“Dude!”
“What? You weren’t at your desk. What was I supposed to do? Read your mind?”
“Dude!”
“Cody.”
“For real? After I stood in line at Mario’s for you for twenty minutes last week?”
“I didn’t know what you wanted,” Everett said.
“I get the same thing every time we go to the café.” Cody tapped his finger on his desk for emphasis. “The same thing. It’s not rocket science, Everett.”
Everett burst out laughing and slid the third, unopened paper bag toward Cody. “Meatball sub. Onion rings.”
“Wha…?” Cody attacked the bag. “I was freaking out. I really thought you didn’t get me anything. Totally starved. Thanks, man.”
Cody left, fishing out an onion ring as he closed the door behind him.
Langston laughed. “Why do you mess with him like that?”
“It’s just so easy.” Everett smiled. “What’s up with you and Miss Lewis? Is it official yet?”
Langston tried not to grin too hard. “We haven’t discussed any kind of status. We’re playing it cool.”
Everett lifted an eyebrow. “Please. She might be playing it cool, but there’s no way you are. Is she seeing anyone else?”
Langston took another bite of sandwich. “I’m pretty sure she isn’t.”
“So…?”
“So nothing. I’m going to let this develop organically.”
“Well, have you at least had to use the box of condoms I gave you?”
“If I did, you know I wouldn’t tell you. Some things are private, you know.”
Everett rolled his eyes and turned back to the computer. “No fun.”
Langston laughed.
Langston found several reasons to walk by Dr. Pillay’s office that afternoon, including printing documents one page at a time and going back and forth to the water cooler to top off his bottle. Dana kept watching him walk past her desk, but she didn’t say anything.
When Dr. Pillay’s door opened at a quarter till four, Langston rushed into his own office and grabbed his jacket. “The eagle is leaving the nest!”
Everett looked up from his work. “What are you going to say to her?”
“I haven’t figured it out exactly, but I’ll think of something.”
“Want me to come?”
Langston shook his head. “Nah. See you in a little while.”
He scurried down the hallway, barely avoiding Dr. Pillay as he walked into the men’s room. Langston walked down the hall to the elevators. Antoinette was waiting there, along with a custodian with a mop bucket and a FedEx delivery man. She wore a black pant suit with red heels, and her hair was up in a bun. She switched her leather tote bag and coat from her right arm to her left, watching the numbers over the elevator doors light up, one by one, as the elevator came to a stop at their floor.
Langston hesitated. He didn’t want to get on with her because he was hoping for the element of surprise, but if he didn’t, he wouldn’t know which parking deck level she’d choose. The doors opened, and the threesome walked in.
Langston walked in, avoiding eye contact with Antoinette. He looked for her reflection in the metal doors, but the brushed nickel was useless in that capacity.
The ride down was slow, and the enclosed space filled with Antoinette’s perfume and the bleach from the mop bucket. The elevator stopped, and they got off on the main floor and headed toward the adjoining deck. The custodian broke away from the group, water sloshing, mop bucket wheels squeaking. The FedEx man stopped at the front desk.
Okay. Be cool.
Langston followed Antoinette to another set of elevators in the parking deck, kicking himself for not bringing his keys or bag as props.
Be casual. Break the ice. Nice and easy.
When this elevator opened, three people were already on it, and Langston cursed to himself as they got on. When the elevator stopped, Antoinette and another woman walked out. Langston glanced down. Blue level.
“Is that a Chanel?” the woman asked, pointing to Antoinette’s tote.
“It is,” Antoinette said.
“It is gorgeous!” the woman said. “I asked my husband for one for my birthday, but he just went on and on about the price.”
Langston didn’t know if he should get off and wait there creepily until the woman finished her story or stay on the elevator. As he was deciding what to do, the doors slid closed, and Antoinette was out of sight. He punched the button for the next floor.
Langston got off on the yellow level and jogged to the stairway. He tried to be quiet, but every footstep reverberated off the cinder block walls. At the bottom of the stairs, he peered through the narrow, smudged window of the blue level door. The lot was full, but there was no trace of movement, no sign of Antoinette or the other woman.
The sound of the door creaking echoed throughout the deck as he cautiously pushed it open and took a few steps out. He went to the right, toward the elevator, listening. It was quiet. An engine started, and Langston ducked behind a column. As the car neared, he inched around and saw a green Dodge. A man was driving.
After the car passed, he walked toward the elevator. The area was empty. He looked out into the deck, listening for heels on the concrete. It had only taken him a few moments to get here from the stairwell. She couldn’t have gotten far. He peered through the windshields of the parked vehicles. Maybe she was sitting behind the wheel making a phone call or fixing her makeup. He turned in a slow circle, watching and waiting for a door to close or another engine to start.
A cold gust of wind blew an abandoned flyer across the walkway, and the scraping sound was amplified in his hypervigilant ears. The fluorescent light above him buzzed and flickered. Antoinette had disappeared. He sighed and scanned the deck again, trying to work out how she’d gotten out of the elevator and to her car so quickly without any trace.
Langston shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dammit.”
He heard gravel crunch underfoot and a grunt from behind. A sharp pain in the back of his head knocked him off balance, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.
Langston’s head was throbbing like a heartbeat. He writhed on his side. He was in a confined space, his knees bent. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting. A blurry image of naked tree branches stretched across an overcast sky, and a cool breeze chilled his sweaty face. He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but discovered that h
is hands had been tightly bound behind his back. He attempted to move his feet only to discover that his ankles were also bound.
He blinked. An open car trunk lid hovering above him came into focus. Groaning, Langston drew up his knees and shimmied to the edge of the trunk. He managed to throw his bound feet over the edge when a woman’s voice startled him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
His scrambled more frantically, scooting to get his knees out. Antoinette rounded the car and threw his legs back in the trunk.
“I said I wouldn’t do that.”
Langston looked at her wide-eyed as she leaned over him. She was olive-skinned with dark eyes. She was attractive, but older than he’d thought. The thin skin on her manicured hands gave away her age. She looked down at him like a boarding school teacher on the cusp of scolding. “Why were you following me?”
Langston breathed heavily. “I wasn’t.”
“Don’t lie,” she snapped. “Why were you following me?”
Thoughts were pinging around in his brain like frightened birds caught in an attic. Maybe I could jump out quickly and hop away. No, she’ll get me. I could kick her then jump out… but what if I miss? She’ll really be pissed then. Maybe I can just explain that she has it all wrong and— “Answer me!”
Langston sat up in the cramped space, trying to steady himself on his knuckles. “I guess I just wanted to know who you are.”
“And why do you need to know that?”
He shrugged.
“Either give me an answer, or someone’s going to find you facedown in Lake Washington.”
Langston took a deep breath. “I’ve been working on a nanorobotics project at Bronze Leaf and thought you may have had something to do with why it was suspended.”
“And what business is it of yours?”
“I worked on that project for two years. It seems unfair to take it away from me now.”
“The nanorobots do not belong to you.”
Well, the ones inside of me kinda do. “No, but the change was abrupt, and Dr. Pillay didn’t offer any explanation, plus you… looked at me.”
Antoinette frowned.
Langston raised his eyebrows. “Before Christmas?” He couldn’t read her expression. Recognition? Annoyance?
“How old are you?” Antoinette asked.
Langston rolled onto one hip in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. “Twenty-one.”
He could practically feel her gaze raking over his forehead, his nose, his lips.
“Name?”
“Langston.”
“Langston what?”
“Crump.”
She looked up, over the roof of the car. “You shouldn’t have followed me like that.”
Langston sat straight up, his knees pressed into his chest. He watched her stare out into space. They were in a wooded area, but Langston could hear traffic nearby.
“Are you going to call the cops?” he asked.
She looked down at him. The corners of her mouth twitched. “Am I going to…?” Her laugh was hard and loud. A finch fled from its perch in the tree. “No, I’m not going to call the police. I prefer to handle things myself.”
Langston tasted acid rise in his throat. “Handle?”
“Yes, Langston. I handle things.”
He looked down at his knees, trying not to think about what she meant. His head snapped up when the car lowered a couple inches. Antoinette was sitting on the edge of the trunk.
Langston blinked, taking in her profile and trying to read her face. She seemed to be mentally working out something. He wanted to ask her why she’d reacted so viscerally to him following her. He understood her ire, but throwing him in a trunk? He wondered if her paranoia was warranted.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“About…?”
“Me.” He wiggled his tingling fingers to stave off the numbness.
She looked at a loss. It was a peculiar expression on her.
Langston waited for her to answer. When she didn’t, he said, “I can’t feel my hands.” He lifted up his elbows until his arms looked like chicken wings. “Can you loosen this? My fingers are numb.”
Antoinette’s mouth moved, but Langston didn’t hear her say anything.
“Miss Grayson?”
“Are you from here?” she asked.
Langston let his hands fall, making a thud behind him. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“You’re either from here or you aren’t.”
“I am. Can you please loosen this?”
“So you were born here in Seattle?”
My hands are about to fall off, and this woman is asking about my birthplace. “I was born on the East Coast, but I moved here before I was a year old. Look, I’m sorry about following you. It was impulsive and stupid. I promise I won’t try anything, just please loosen this rope.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Antoinette reached behind him, and Langston felt a tug. Blood rushed into his hands. “If you tried anything on me, you wouldn’t get very far.”
Langston looked down at his hands, the palms unnaturally pale. He curled and flexed his fingers as the feeling came back.
“Who are your parents?” Antoinette asked.
“My mom’s name is Khone.”
“And your father?”
“I don’t have a dad.” He fumbled with the bungee cord around his ankles until it loosened. “I mean, I have a dad, but I don’t know who he is.”
She stared at him, shaking her head slowly.
“Um, do you think we’ll get the nano project back?”
“No,” she said. “Get out of my trunk.”
He climbed out clumsily.
“I’m going to tell you two things.” Antoinette pointed to the right. “Go that way. When you get to the clearing, keep walking. You’ll figure out where you are.”
Langston looked in the direction she pointed. “Okay.”
“The reason I called you William is because you look just like him.”
“Like who?”
“Your father.”
Langston blinked. “You know my dad?”
Antoinette closed the trunk. He heard keys jingle as she walked to the driver’s side of the black BMW.
“You know my dad?” he repeated.
“If you see me at Bronze Leaf, or anywhere, don’t talk to me, okay? We never met, and this never happened.”
She got in the car and started the engine. Langston was having a hard time forming a coherent thought. He approached her side of the car, but she didn’t roll down the window.
“Do you know me?” he asked loudly.
She looked at him again, the same way she had before, like she was trying to etch his every detail into her memory.
Langston put his hand on the glass, pleading. “Please.”
She turned away from him and put on sunglasses even though it was clearly about to rain. She pulled off without another word. He watched her drive away until the tail lights were out of sight.
Langston arrived at Bronze Leaf soaked and winded from running through the rain. His clothes were wrinkled and clung to him uncomfortably. He pulled at a pant leg as inconspicuously as he could to straighten his khakis bunched at his crotch. The security guards looked at him curiously as he walked by.
He smiled. “Forgot my umbrella.”
The water dripping from his chin and hands splattered on the marble floor, and his shoes squeaked loudly. Other Bronze Leaf employees gave him a wide berth as to avoid the puddle he was creating while he waited for an elevator. When he got upstairs, he closed his office door.
“What the hell happened to you?” Everett asked.
“Got caught in the rain.”
“That’s an understatement. You’re soaked!” Everett handed him two paper towels from his desk. “Did you talk to Antoinette?”
Langston nodded, drying his glasses. “I asked her about the project.”
“What’d she say?”
&
nbsp; “She said the nanos weren’t my business and that we aren’t getting the project back.”
“I told you she was a hard-ass. What else did she say?”
“Nothing much. She just… asked me who I was.”
“That’s all?”
Langston nodded.
“What took you so long?”
“It took me a while to get that out of her. She’s not much of a talker.”
“Was she freaked out when you showed up asking questions?”
Langston rubbed his sore wrists. “She wasn’t happy.”
Everett reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a snack cake. “Do you think she’ll tell Dr. Pillay?”
“I didn’t get that impression.”
The cellophane crinkled loudly as Everett tore it open and took a bite. “I guess that’s it then.”
“I guess so.” Langston shivered, looking at the clock. “I’m going to head out a little early. It’s freezing in here.” He reached for his bag under his desk.
“Hey,” Everett said. “Before I forget, Cody is having a thing at his apartment tonight. He’s getting pizza and wings. Want to swing by?”
“I can’t,” Langston said. “I need to take care of something.”
“Or someone.” Everett wiggled his eyebrows.
“There’s more to life than food and sex, Everett.”
“Oh yeah? Let me know when you find out what that is.”
Langston paused in the doorway. “You are hopeless.”
Everett grinned. “I know. See ya tomorrow.”
Chapter Eleven
Langston parked on Graham Street and killed the engine. Since the hard rain had let up to a light mist, he rolled down the window and took a deep breath of cool, earthy night air. He watched his mother’s house, debating whether or not to abandon his initial idea and drive away. Antoinette’s words had been vexing him for hours, and he knew they were valid. He could feel it in his bones. Langston also knew that broaching this subject to his mother might not end well. Khone would either deny or confirm it, and he didn’t know which would be worse. A light switched on in the den. He irrationally slumped down in his seat to avoid being seen. The light barely reached beyond the window to the bushes just outside the house.
The Wiseman Revelation (The Wiseman Series Book 2) Page 9