Luminous

by Corrina Lawson

  “Is one for you?” Leslie asked.

  “Nah, I figured you need both right now.”

  “Sounds right.” Leslie looked at Noir. “I guess you don’t want one, given that mask on your face. What is that about?”

  “It’s my thing,” Noir said.

  Leslie shrugged and collapsed into one of the plastic chairs that surrounded the nearby table. He put his feet up on another chair and chugged the first soda. When he put the can down, it was empty.

  Al and Noir sat across from him. The doctor stared at Noir. Al thought that Noir stared back at Leslie but, hell, how could he know that with her face covered?

  “So, I know that blinding light came from you, black-leather girl. You have some sort of lantern under than cape, or what?” Leslie asked.

  Noir took off her hat and tilted her head. “‘In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall—’”

  Al snorted.

  Leslie cut in. “Your light isn’t green.”

  Noir leaned back in the chair. “I’m working my way up. It’s sorta like karate or taekwondo. You start with white and work your way up the colors.”

  Leslie dissolved into laughter.

  Noir looked at Al. “So this is the guy you think can help us?”

  “He’s the only one available at this hour, anyway. C’mon, Doc. Get it together. She’s not that funny.”

  “She’s funnier than anything else in this place.” Leslie wiped away his tears of laughter, opened the second soda and gulped that down. When he was finished, he burped. Loudly.

  “Dignified,” Al said.

  “Screw that.” Leslie pounded his chest and burped again. “Al, you know, you have a knack for attracting the crazy ones.”

  “That’s why we’re friends. And can we get to the point now that you’re done with the decompressing? I’ve got some questions.”

  “I imagine they have something to do with the glowing angel lady here,” Leslie said.

  Interesting that Leslie also termed Noir’s light “angelic”.

  “Yep.” Al glanced over at Noir, hoping she would let him speak for her. She said nothing, which Al took for assent.

  He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and filled Leslie in on the day’s events, from the murders at the bank to Noir’s tale of being used as a research subject against her will. He didn’t mention that she was invisible. He left that vague, figuring Leslie would conclude that Noir had suffered some sort of injury as part of her “treatment”. Let Leslie’s imagination fill in the rest from the way Noir dressed. Caution urged Al not to tell too many people about Noir’s invisibility. She’d trusted him with it. It didn’t seem right to reveal her secret.

  “What do you need from me, Lieutenant?” Leslie’s tone was serious and grave now, no more laughter.

  “I need a place to start, Doc. Where do you get the kind of drugs necessary to do what this Jill did? Where do you get the medical equipment?”

  “There’s only one medical supply house in Charlton City: Dixon Supplies, Inc.,” Leslie said.

  “Don’t you have to be authorized to buy from them? Like being a certified hospital?”

  “They’re like every other institution in this city,” Leslie said. “Enough money gets passed around, rules get broken.”

  Al nodded. That would be a place to check out tonight. Unauthorized shipments could happen at night. Delivery drivers might also be around at all hours and might be willing to answer questions. “Yeah. So what about the drugs?”

  “Those are a lot more problematic.” Leslie frowned. “First, you’d need anesthetics, then saline solutions for IVs at the very least, plus the myriad of drugs that would produce the kinds of altered consciousness and loss of memory that you described.” Leslie stared at Noir. “On behalf of my profession, I apologize.”

  “You aren’t Jill,” Noir said.

  Leslie nodded. “So this Jill would likely have to get it from a hospital or via mail order somehow. I can’t help you with mail order, but…”

  “But what?” Al said.

  “What’s she look like?”

  Leslie thought he might recognize Jill. Interesting. There were a great many palms being greased in the police department. Al suspected the hospital was the same. Maybe Jill was even on staff.

  Noir pulled the sketchbook from under her cloak, flipped to the drawing of Jill and handed that to Leslie.

  Now where had Noir hidden the sketchbook during the glowing? Behind her back? In a hidden pocket of the cape? Al wasn’t sure he wanted to know but he supposed it proved her glowing was light, rather than heat, or the papers would have gone up in smoke. Okay, so would her clothes, come to think of it.

  “Fuck,” the doctor said as he stared at Jill’s face.

  Bingo, Al thought.

  “My drawing isn’t that bad,” Noir said.

  “Your drawing is excellent.” Leslie held up the sketch. “I feel like I’m seeing a ghost. This is a damn fine likeness of a doctor who worked here for two months and then vanished three weeks ago.”

  “Details, Doc,” Al said.

  Leslie leaned back. “She went by the name of Jacklyn Wolfowitz. She arrived one day and started working the ER shift. She said she’d been called in for an interview by the hospital administrator but that when she saw how crowded the ER was that night, she jumped in.” Leslie shook his head. “I let her, because she was damn fast at triage. First person besides me that was good at it. She spotted a patient with chest pains and diagnosed a heart attack right away. Getting to him fast saved his life.”

  Leslie tapped one of the empty Pepsi cans. “In the meantime, the hospital admin that she’d claimed to have called her had quit. Run off because he’d been cooking the books.” He sighed.

  “So I pushed for the bureaucrats to hire her. She passed a background check. And she was a damn fine doctor. No one asked too many questions about why she wanted to work here because, hey, none of us want to talk much about our lives before we got here. CCH is where you either fall down to and can’t get up, or it’s a place where you start working your way back into your life. I tagged Wolfowitz for the latter.”

  “Yeah, she’s just wonderful except when she’s taking people apart,” Noir muttered.

  “Where is she now?” Al said. “How’d she disappear?”

  “I worked a lot of shifts with her, and after a while, I noticed that while she was a great doctor, she was a lot colder than I liked. It’s one thing to become immune to patients because you’re so battle-scarred, but this was pure nastiness, like ‘forgetting’ to give a patient pain meds before a procedure. It happened once too often for my taste. I started to regret pushing for her. I ordered the head ER nurse to keep an eye out for stuff like that.

  “Then three weeks ago, we had a serious break-in. A lot of medications and supplies were stolen. Someone came in and smashed open all the security doors and locks, just like you said this monster did at the bank.”

  “I don’t recall that case.” Al frowned.

  “That’s because admin didn’t want it reported,” Leslie said. “Someone from the inside helped out in the break-in because the video cameras all went out that night. When Wolfowitz didn’t show up the next day, I figured her for the one who helped the thief. Though some claimed that maybe she’d been working and whoever broke in grabbed her as well. Like I said, she was a talented doctor and earned some goodwill here.”

  “But your hospital officials wanted the incident hushed up because Wolfowitz’s papers turned out to be bogus after a second check, right?” Al guessed.

  “Got it in one,” Leslie said. “For all we know, she wasn’t even properly certified or even a doctor, though she was certainly trained. If the hospital reports that someone not a doctor or not properly certified was treating patients, that would open this place to all kinds of lawsuits.” He stared off into space. “I should have known better. But we needed the help. I didn’t care who she was. She saved lives.”

  Noir stood up. “Jil
l’s good at deceiving people. And I bet she stayed on good behavior most of the time because you were around. You probably forced her to do the right thing and help people for the only time in her life.”

  Leslie stood as well. “I think that’s one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever had.” He looked down at his watch. “Back to blood and gore.” He saluted Al. “Carry on, Lieutenant. Catch us some bad guys. Anytime you want to work security in the ER, you’re welcome.”

  They watched the doctor head back to his work. When he was gone, Noir broke the silence.

  “He’s not what I expected.”

  “Fred Leslie is not what anyone expects,” Al said.

  “What’s he doing here in this place?”

  Al knew exactly what she meant. “Leslie was a drunk and got chased out of the better hospitals in the suburbs years ago. He’s been sober a long time. By now, he could get another job, but he says the ER work is the only drug that can replace the alcohol. Says his addictive personality might as well do people some good instead of benefitting the liquor stores.” Al turned to Noir. “Your turn now. Why did you risk your life up there?”

  “I have this power—”

  “Bullshit, you said you weren’t sure it would work but you did it anyway.”

  “You risked your life,” she said.

  “It’s my job.”

  “Hey, I’m with you now, Lieutenant. It’s my job too.”

  Chapter Four

  The drive to the medical supply company, Dixon Supplies, Inc., was as quiet as the ride to the hospital had been. Noir guessed that Al was running possible scenarios through his head about what they might encounter at the warehouse. He liked to think three steps ahead, such as anticipating how the dead guy’s friends would react to news of his passing in the ER. He’d known Leslie was going to be attacked.

  Al missed very little. She was learning that about him.

  She couldn’t think clearly enough to plan ahead like that. These days, she was glad her brain worked well enough that she could remember everything since her escape several months ago. She closed her eyes. She’d been up for nearly twenty-four hours. She wanted to rest.

  But she couldn’t.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Al. She did. The way he’d dealt with the attackers at the ER cemented the fact that Aloysius James was someone to rely on.

  She knew very well that Al could have just drawn his gun and shot both gang members. That would have been the safest for him, if not for those who might be caught by an errant bullet or ricochet.

  Al had wanted to minimize casualties, especially the innocents. His example was why she’d jumped into the fight, hoping her power would work.

  It was a strange feeling having someone on her side. Even stranger was that Al thought her glowing like a ghoul was a good thing. An “angel”, he’d called her. So had Leslie. Now there was a word she never thought would be applied to her.

  She’d never saved a life before. It had been a cool feeling, one that left her jazzed and bouncing on her toes. Now she got why Leslie was addicted to the ER and saving lives.

  Being around Al made her feel that way too, as if she was worth something. It had been great to hear the admiration in his voice. Just as well he couldn’t see the blush on her face when he looked at her as if he cared. She wanted to believe he did.

  “You never answered my question about whey they called you ‘Detective Fixit’.”

  He glanced over at her, scowling. “Because I hate the name. I solved a few cases that people didn’t think could be solved, is all. Now people think I’m some kind of damn miracle worker.”

  She was getting to like his scowl. “Isn’t it good that people think you’re a smart detective?”

  “Suddenly, anything weird or strange and I’m called in, like I’m a show pony for the mayor and the press. And if I screw up, they’ll have no problem throwing me to the wolves. If you were at the bank, watching, you saw how popular I am in the department.”

  “Is the police department really as corrupt as it seems?”

  “Worse.”

  “Why do it, then? It seems a thankless job.”

  “Leslie thanked me just now.” He turned down a side street and into the warehouse district.

  “You weren’t thinking of being thanked when you tackled that guy.”

  “No, I was thinking that idiot was going to cause me a hell of a lot of paperwork, especially if I shot him,” he said. “Still, some will be on my desk in the morning, no doubt, along with the hospital security report.”

  Liar, liar, she thought. She was chasing Jack because it was personal. What drove Al? Why would a smart, attractive guy who was still young—despite his claim about being near forty, he acted young—do this with his life?

  “How long you been a cop?”

  “About fifteen years. Since right out of college.”

  “Why?” she asked again.

  He shrugged. “The city was a mess even then. I thought, hell, why not? Maybe I could fix it. My dad was a fed. So there was an example already in my house.”

  He slowed down as they drew closer to their destination.

  “Did it work out like you planned?”

  He snorted. “Does anything ever work out as planned?”

  “You made it to detective.”

  “Yeah.” He killed the headlights and slowed the vehicle down to five miles per hour.

  “You can’t make this old beat-up car invisible,” she said.

  “There’s no sense announcing our presence. If something is going on, that could get us dead fast.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t be bringing you to a stakeout.”

  “It’s not like I gave you a choice.” She shook her head. “I’ve been avoiding being caught for a long time now. I’m good at it. Look how I snuck into your place.”

  Al grunted, and she couldn’t interpret that one way or another. At first glance, he had seemed rumpled and a little soft around the edges. That was until he’d lifted the desk at the bank and tackled the guy at the ER. The guy was formidable. So why appear so rumpled and why not color the strands of gray in his hair and why make jokes about being near forty? All that made him appear lesser, though maybe the gray added some authority.

  She bet Lieutenant Aloysius James liked being underestimated. It gave him an edge. In this city, Noir was learning that you took what edge you could get.

  Al turned the car slowly to the right as they reached the warehouse of what she assumed was Dixon Supplies, Inc.

  “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll go look around.”

  “I didn’t come all this way to sit in the car.”

  “Look, I can’t be responsible for—”

  “I can sneak around a lot better than you.”

  “And I can shoot back better than you.” He tapped the gun at his waist. “Noir, you’ve been through hell, that’s clear. But you’re an amateur. You came to me because you wanted a cop, a detective who could find Jack. So sit back and let me do my damn job.”

  “You might be dead if I didn’t help at the ER.”

  “And I might get dead if you make a mistake while trying to be a cop.”

  She shrugged. “Fine.” No sense arguing when she’d do what she wanted anyway.

  “Good.”

  He closed the car door without making a noise and went around the corner to look at the loading docks.

  She wasn’t going to sit here meekly in the car, but it was easier to apologize than ask permission. It wasn’t like Al would see her following him. Besides, she wanted to get inside that warehouse and look around.

  It was too dangerous for Al to get into the warehouse, especially without police backup. But it wasn’t at all dangerous for someone who couldn’t be seen.

  She tossed her hat in the backseat. Soon, her clothes joined the hat. The last to come off were her boots. She left those on the floor of the passenger seat. She placed her cape over the leather in back. Now it just looked like an old coat, not someone’s discarded clot
hing.

  She stretched. Freedom. Wearing the pants and T-shirt all the time didn’t bother her, but if she never wore the gloves and mesh mask again, it would be too soon.

  She took her cue from Al and got out of the car without making any noise. The blacktop felt hard, an unyielding ground under her feet, but at least it was a decent temperature. Usually, blacktop was too hot or too cold. She could get to like fall. Autumn weather wasn’t as extreme, especially important if you had to walk around naked half the time.

  Noir crept around the corner, careful to stay far away from Al. She straightened as she put distance between them. She could see men loading boxes into the trailer of an eighteen-wheeler parked at the loading dock on the far side. She’d no idea if they were doing something illegal or not, but she couldn’t fault Al for being so careful.

  She strode toward the truck, her only precaution to tread lightly. As she got closer, she realized why Al was right to stay hidden.

  The workers were all armed. Handguns peeked out from the tops of their jeans. A man with a machine gun watched over the operation, clearly designated as a lookout.

  It was beginning to look like she and Al were going to get lucky tonight. They’d found the source of Jill’s medical supplies.

  Wait, just because they were doing something illegal, it didn’t necessarily follow that it involved Jill. Noir had to look inside the warehouse for something that would point to where this shipment was going.

  She walked up the concrete steps to the top of the loading dock. She was only five feet from the man with the machine gun. He frowned and looked around, at one point staring right at her, but settled down in a moment.

  Dumbass.

  Though Noir did have to admit that invisible people didn’t grow on trees, so the guy could hardly be faulted for not realizing someone invisible was watching him. In the first week after her escape, she’d been so unused to her invisibility herself that she had instinctively expected people to notice her, as they always had.

  The reality of her situation had finally sunk in on day eight of her freedom. She’d almost been run down by a car whose driver obviously had no idea she was in the crosswalk. That had been the first time she’d glowed. She’d been terrified, had thrown up her hands in a futile defense, and a huge light seemed to burst out of her chest. The driver had hit the brakes and the oncoming car had skidded sideways. She’d no idea what inside her caused the light, but it had saved her life.