Of Cinder and Bone

by Kyoko M

  “Needle mark,” Kamala breathed, and then her lovely face twisted with anger. “Someone injected belladonna into our babies, Jack.”

  She set the egg down and pressed her fists against the table, her head bowed, her shoulders tense like piano wire. “When I find whoever did this… I’m going to rip them a new malashay.”

  Jack let out a humorless bark of laughter. “Better than what I’m gonna do to them. Get this all down and printed for proof. We’ve got ourselves a manhunt to conduct.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  OVERKILL

  “Unbelievable,” Matt Buchanan said, shaking his head as he sat back from the microscope. “Someone assassinated your dragons. Who on God’s green earth does that? I swear, Ultron was right. We need to fuckin’ evolve, man.” He raked a hand through his sandy curls, tucking his glasses in the pocket of his lab coat, and turned towards Jack and Kamala. “What’s the plan?”

  “Draw up a suspect pool, for one,” Jack said. “The most obvious ones would be those kooks outside protesting the project for ‘unnatural and immoral experimentation.’ Organizations like that have been known to interfere if they thought we presented a deadly threat to their way of life. Granted, my gut doesn’t think it’s them, but that’s where we should start.”

  Matt nodded, glancing at Kamala next. “Right. Suspect number two?”

  “We had to turn down several interested parties who wanted to cover the unveiling,” Kamala said. “It’s possible they decided to sabotage it so they’d seem prophetic if they predicted disaster, and that would boost their ratings and sales temporarily. I’m checking through list of news channels and magazines we rejected.”

  “Gotcha. And suspect number three?”

  Jack shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, this is a lab and there’s extensive access to chemicals in this building. There is a good chance it’s an inside job.”

  Matt rubbed the stubble on his chin and sighed. “I hope not. I mean, we have our differences, but the thought that an MIT student or staff member could do something like this…”

  Jack nodded gravely. “Not a positive thought, but it would explain how the belladonna was injected with such accuracy.”

  “That reminds me,” Matt said, his brown eyes lighting up a bit. “How did Pete survive?”

  “Wrong injection site,” Kamala said. “My guess is that someone got wise to the person before they could finish, and so Pete’s injection was done in a hurry. The sloppy work kept the bulk of the poison from reaching her vital organs. She shows some slight damage internally, but nothing catastrophic.”

  “Well then, there’s the good news,” Matt said. “If someone there noticed an uninvited guest, then we might have a witness. Have you drawn up a list of everyone in attendance?”

  “Yeah. That’s why we wanted you to look after Pete today while we’re out investigating. Odds are, they might still want her dead. She’ll need protection from someone we can trust. Matter of fact, pressure the staff so that we can get her in the most secure part of the veterinary hospital until we find a better place for her. That’s the second item on our priority list today.”

  “Point taken. Guess you can’t take her to your place since it’s swamped with paparazzi, and my name’s in the article since I’m your P.I. I’ll reach out to some people I trust and see if I can pull some strings for you.”

  He stood and laid a hand on both of their shoulders. “We’ll get to the bottom of this no matter what, guys. I’ve got your back. Get out there and find this asshole.”

  “Thanks, Matt. We’d like you to keep this as quiet as you can in the meantime. If we have a mole in the department, they might make a rash decision if they find out we know they poisoned the dragons.”

  “Will do. Good luck.”

  ~ * ~

  “I’m so sorry this happened, honey-bunny.”

  Jack shook his head, but smiled in spite of himself. “Ma, seriously. I’m not six years old anymore. And we’re in public.”

  Edie sniffed and moved her hand away. “This is what I get for trying to comfort my son.”

  Jack rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, pulling it towards him and linking their fingers. “What is it about Mother’s Guilt? Was it just engineered into you women-folk?”

  She grinned. “Damn right. Most powerful weapon we’ve got other than telling you, ‘I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.’”

  “Yes, quite the potent phrasing there,” he said, sipping a Samuel Adams. “Thanks.”

  “Did you make any headway with your witnesses?”

  Jack shook his head. “You’re the last one of the day. S’why I had enough time to buy you a drink. Kamala’s out interviewing the staff from the news channel that did show up. I kind of hope that dick reporter was the one who did it, so I’d have an excuse to crack his skull.”

  “Language,” she said, pretending to scowl. “And yes, he was rather awful. I thought your father was going to sock him after he went after you in the lab.”

  “Huh.”

  She eyed him. “What do you mean ‘huh’?”

  Jack shrugged. “Nothing.”

  She exhaled and tugged her hand free. “You’re starting again.”

  “Ma…”

  “Contrary to what you think, he does care about what you do. Even if he doesn’t always show it.”

  Jack pursed his lips. “Yes, which is why he’s on his phone right now upstairs and can’t be bothered to join us.”

  “He works for a living too, you know. You could be a little more understanding.”

  “Is it also a mother thing to take your husband’s side all the time? Would it kill you to back me up for a change?”

  “I am not picking sides, Rhett.” She snapped, her hazel eyes dangerously glinting in the overhead light. “I didn’t when you were younger and I’m not going to start now.”

  “The fact that you admit we’re on opposite sides is the problem. I practically went to the other end of the country to do something that’s important to me, and I’ve made a success of myself, but I still can’t get the time of day from him. Even after all these years of busting my ass to make it work. How does that not bother you?”

  She swirled her Budweiser in its bottle, her voice hushed. “I never said it didn’t bother me.”

  He studied her for a long moment before the bartender interrupted. “Another round?”

  “No,” Edie said, placing a ten-dollar bill on the bar. “I’m good.”

  She sat for a bit more and then glanced at him. “If you have enough time tonight, drop by at dinner time. We’re heading back tomorrow night. He might surprise you.”

  Jack grunted. She flicked his ear lightly. “Use your words, mister.”

  “Yes ma’am. I’ll see if I can make it.”

  “Thank you.” She drew him into a firm hug. “I love you, baby. Give ‘em hell.”

  He laughed softly. “Right. Won’t be enough to wipe up with a sponge when we’re done with ‘im.”

  Edie froze.

  Jack pulled away, his face puzzled. “What?”

  “Janitor,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “The janitor,” Edie repeated, her eyes wide. “I told you that I didn’t see anyone in the room before the unveiling, but after… there was a guy there in a janitor’s uniform, just outside of the crowd when we were leaving. When I saw him, he turned and walked out like he was only checking to see people’s reactions.”

  “How do you know he wasn’t just being nosy?”

  “The bucket was empty and his mop was dry. He didn’t even have a solution bottle with him, so he must have been pretending the whole time.”

  Jack fumbled for his notepad. “Describe him.”

  “Over six feet tall. Had a cap on, but his hair was dark. I think he might have been Asian.”

  Jack paused. “Broad shoulders?”

  “Ye
s.”

  The pit of his stomach filled with ice. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. It wasn’t like Okegawa was the only tall, broad-shouldered Asian man in all of Massachusetts. He calmed himself and kept an objective perspective. “Any distinguishing marks?”

  “No.”

  “Any clothing other than the janitor’s uniform?”

  “No.”

  “What else?”

  “I smelled a bit of cigarette smoke, I think.”

  Jack closed his eyes momentarily and gritted his teeth. “Alright, we can work from there. Anything else you remember?”

  “No, I think that’s it. Was that helpful? Oof!”

  He squeezed her in a bear hug. “More than you know, Ma.”

  ~ * ~

  Since they were in the public eye, for the time being, Kamala had given Jack a copy of her apartment key so he could slip in and out of her place more easily, and without having to wait for her or Faye. The press had latched on to him more firmly since the project had been his idea. They wanted to paint him as an All-American genius, and being relatively good-looking, white, and from the South, fit their suspiciously specific ideals.

  He shut the front door behind him and tucked the keys in his coat pocket, striding towards the den. Before he could turn the corner, he heard something that stopped him in his tracks.

  “You are wasting your life with that man, Kamala.”

  There was no mistake. It was Kamala’s father, Daeshim. Jack swallowed hard and stood still, listening intently for her response.

  “How dare you say that. You don’t know him.”

  “Don’t I? I saw the two of you during the unveiling. He completely fell apart when the hatchlings were pronounced dead. Is that the sort of person you want to have a stake in, in your professional career? A hot-headed naïve fool of a man like that?”

  “Jack’s passion is precisely why the birth of our dragon was a success. Yes, he is impulsive, and yes, sometimes he falters, but he is not a failure.”

  “Is that so? What would you call this mess you’re in right now? These bottom-dwellers stalking your home? Calling you at all hours of the night? Not giving you the credit you deserve because you’re in the company of a white man?”

  “I didn’t get into this for credit, Papa. I got into this because I wanted to make a difference, and I have done that. If you cannot accept it, then there is nothing left for me to say to you.”

  “You aren’t thinking clearly, Kamala. You are better than this, than what he has made of you. You are one of the top medical and scientific minds in this country, and yet you let him and these Americans treat you like a servant. That is not who you are.”

  “No. It’s not. But I’m also not the obedient little girl you want me to be. I know why you’re here. You don’t care about my work. You wanted this to fail so that you could convince me to come home and work for your practice again.”

  “That’s not what I want—”

  She snorted. “Sure it isn’t.”

  “There is no future here. That is what I’m trying to get you to realize. If you will not see it now, then you will see it too late, when you have lost everything you tried to accomplish.”

  Silence. Jack’s heart stuttered and flopped around his chest like a butterfly with a broken wing.

  Finally, Kamala spoke softly. “Then that is my fate. I am my own.”

  Daeshim exhaled harshly and muttered something in Urdu. He switched back to English a moment later. “Your mother wants to see you for dinner tonight. I trust you will not disappoint her.”

  “Of course not. Tell her I will see her after nine o’clock.”

  “Very well.”

  Jack heard footsteps and panicked momentarily, slipping into the pantry closet and pulling the door closed. He stood on his tiptoes, the wire racks digging into his back, and held his breath as Daeshim walked past the kitchen and then out the front door. Jack heaved a sigh and waited another moment to be sure he didn’t come back, and then opened the door.

  He walked around the corner, into the den, and once again stopped dead.

  Kamala stood there, tears running down her round cheeks, her head bent, hands propped up against the couch.

  Jack’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

  She noticed him a second later and jumped, her eyes wide. “J-Jack?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled, jingling his pocket. “Sorry, used the key. Didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll… come back later.”

  “No, no,” she said, hurriedly wiping her face. “I’m alright. It’s just been a long day.”

  She blew her nose with a napkin from the dining table. Jack watched her warily before sighing to himself and moving in close. He hugged her gently, resting his large hand on the nape of her neck, the other rubbing her back. She didn’t quite relax all the way, but he heard her sigh softly and lean into his chest.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “Stop apologizing,” Kamala said, her voice muffled. “Or I’ll kick your skinny ass.”

  He choked on a laugh, drew back, and kissed her forehead. “Yes, ma’am. I suppose you want to know what I found.”

  Kamala’s slightly pink eyes gleamed suddenly. “Which was?”

  “My mother said she saw someone observing the end of our unveiling in the hallway, and he ran off when she spotted him. Said he was tall, muscular, had dark hair, and smelled like cigarette smoke. Possibly Asian. Sound familiar?”

  “Bloody hell,” Kamala hissed. “You think it was Okegawa?”

  Jack nodded. “I was going to head back to the lab and get the campus police involved so we can launch an investigation. I tried to research the guy myself, but nothing came up. He’s a ghost story, at least according to online records. I’m going to have my mother work with a sketch artist and then see if Okegawa has a rap sheet. If we find him, and she picks him out of a lineup, we might have a chance at getting some justice for our little ones.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kamala said. “What’s his motivation? You can’t possibly think that Yagami put him up to it?”

  “I agree that it doesn’t seem to be his style. He’s under a lot of pressure, but sabotage? What is there to gain? It’s not like it would get him an extension on his deadline.”

  “Right. It would have made more sense for him to simply steal the dragons.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Jack’s phone screamed. He stepped away to check it and frowned as he didn’t recognize the number. He’d blocked all the numbers that belonged to the press and any spammers, but this one was still a local area code.

  “Hello? Dr. Jackson speaking.”

  “Dr. Jackson, this is Officer Daniel West with the Cambridge police department. We received a call from one of your neighbors. There’s been a break-in at your apartment.”

  Jack stared wide-eyed at Kamala.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  ~ * ~

  Chunks of wood crunched beneath Jack’s shoes as he walked through the threshold of his apartment. Officer West, the tall blond cop who had called, told him he’d suspected the burglar had pried it open with a crowbar. Jack nodded numbly and stepped inside.

  The kitchen was to the immediate right, and the cabinets were all open, with broken jars of food and condiments scattered over the tile. The pantry had been ripped open, and things were all askew on the shelves, as if someone had swiped them aside to search for something.

  His flat screen television was still perched on the entertainment center, but his PlayStation 4 was missing. Made sense. TVs weren’t easy to carry out. The PS4 could fit easily inside a large backpack. None of the books or DVDs were missing, but he’d predicted as much.

  “We figured the guy had a target in mind,” Officer West said, motioning towards Jack’s bedroom. “That’s why the den is mostly untouched. I’m assuming you had some electronics.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, st
epping into the destruction that was his bedroom. The mattress had been tossed in the center of the room and chunks of it were ripped out, likely done with a knife. The box spring was shredded too, and it was a damn shame he’d never see that twelve-hundred dollars of emergency money ever again. He’d been saving it going on six months now.

  Jack always kept his project files in several sources, having been on the receiving end of a virus or two in his lifetime. He used a laptop during the day and kept the bulk of the files on his PC and external hard drive. His laptop and iPad were missing. The external hard drive and PC had been smashed beyond recognition. Pieces of circuitry and electronics lay in a pile in front of his desk.