Data Capture

by Jesse J. Thoma

  Lola didn’t need to be in Holt’s physical space for her to know that Lola was pacing wherever she was, gesturing wildly with the hand that was off screen.

  “You would be licking your wounds if Tiffany had worked you over the way she did me. I’m entitled to that, and there’s nothing more going on. Not everyone has Isabelle to go home to. If you think Quinn is the decision I’m going to regret, don’t worry about it. There’s nothing happening and she’s completely amazing.”

  “You know those two things contradict each other, right?”

  “No, they don’t,” Lola said. “She can be amazing, I can notice, and there can be nothing going on. We’re about to pick out your engagement ring together. I’ll tell you if there’s anything for you to get excited about, worry about, stew about, yell about…you get the idea.”

  “Fine. I’ll mind my own business. After I say one more thing.”

  Lola rolled her eyes, but Holt could see there was no true annoyance behind the gesture.

  “I got a phone call from the director of my foundation today. She’s considering retiring. She’s had a long career working with at risk youth, setting them on the right path, and is planning her exit strategy. She asked if I knew anyone who would be a good candidate to take over from her if she left in one year, two years, or five years. She’s willing to stay to provide an apprenticeship to the right candidate. I thought of you.”

  “Me?” Lola looked stunned. “Do you not want me working for you anymore?”

  “I love having you working with me,” Holt said. “But I think you would be amazing with those kids, and I can’t think of anyone I would trust more to run the foundation. It’s just as hazardous as our current job if you’re worried you’ll get bored. You’d have to interact with my mother.”

  Lola groaned.

  “Just think about it. If it’s something you’re interested in, your college degree would be part of the apprenticeship.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to,” Holt said. She wasn’t offering this out of pity or to assuage her own guilt or fear. Lola would be perfect. She hoped she considered it seriously. “Take all the time you need. Right now, I think we’ve left Jose in that jewelry store unsupervised long enough. Shall we go get me a ring?”

  An hour later, Holt made it home with the most beautiful ring she’d ever laid eyes on burning a hole in her pocket. She never would have found it on her own, but Jose and Lola had sorted through option after option with ease, skipping over the initial offerings that had tripped her up on her first foray. She’d spent a fortune, but what she’d come away with was truly a reflection of all that she felt for Isabelle. She couldn’t wait to give it to her. Now all she had to do was find the perfect time.

  Isabelle greeted her at the door with a kiss. “I missed you.”

  “I’ll stay away more often if this is the greeting I get when I return,” Holt said.

  “Better not,” Isabelle said. “How was Jose? Is he worried about Lola too? Does he know anything more?”

  “What?” She forgot that was the excuse she’d used for meeting Jose this evening. “Oh, yeah, but you know how Jose is. He’s hard to pin down. I asked him to check in with her when he gets a chance.”

  “I know you’ll both keep an eye on her,” Isabelle said. She ran her hands through Holt’s hair and kissed her. She trailed her hand down Holt’s cheek, neck, and finally down her chest. When she made it to Holt’s belt, she hooked one finger under her belt buckle and tugged gently. “George is down. If you’re done being a superhero for the night, wanna give pinning me down a shot?”

  Holt scooped Isabelle up and carried her to their bedroom. “I think I’m up to the challenge,” Holt said.

  Isabelle was already shedding clothes as Holt crossed the threshold to their bedroom. She kicked the door closed and laid Isabelle down on the bed. She let her hand brush her left pant pocket as she discarded her pants. She couldn’t imagine loving Isabelle any more than she did. Soon she would give her the physical symbol of that love for the world to see. But for tonight, she would show Isabelle her love another way, and that was just fine with her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lola needed to talk to the college kids Max had identified through Kevin Garvey’s emails. One of them, conveniently, was enrolled in Quinn’s Intro to Neuroscience class that Lola had been unofficially auditing, but the class was large, and these kids all sort of looked the same, despite their attempts to differentiate themselves. Lola didn’t want to be late meeting Quinn after class, so she felt extra pressure to find her guy quickly.

  She texted Quinn that she’d meet her at the diner and scanned the group of kids again. Max had sent her a picture of her target, but it seemed everyone at CLA was a nondescript sandy blond, hazel-eyed dudebro. Lola had just thought she was going to have to get more aggressive with her approach and pay him a visit in his dorm, when, finally, she spotted him. He wasn’t alone, but she could fix that easily enough.

  She made her approach as he passed a service entrance to one of the neighboring buildings and jostled him just enough to force him to step into the enclosed space. It wasn’t enough contact to alert his friends that anything strange had happened. When they looked for him, he would simply no longer be next to them. He could figure out what to tell them when they caught up later.

  “Hello, Brayden. I’d like a word,” Lola said. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Lola put her hand over his mouth when he looked ready to scream. “Jesus, buddy, I just want to talk. What’s got you so jumpy?”

  When he looked like he was calmer, she slowly released the pressure on his mouth but didn’t fully uncover it. “Are you going to scream?”

  He shook his head.

  “Good boy. Do you know who I am?” She was asking about her undercover identity. She would be stunned if he knew who she really was.

  He nodded. “You’re the new janitor in the psychology building.”

  “And how do you know?” She was curious, although not really surprised.

  “I have psych classes so I’m in that building sometimes. I’ve seen you.”

  “You’ve seen me working? Well, now I want to know what you were doing in the building in the middle of the night.”

  Brayden didn’t answer, but his eyes got wide.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I know what the old janitor and you and your buddies were up to at night in the neuropsych research lab. I want in.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brayden said.

  “Of course you do,” Lola said. “You’ve got missing money, a missing janitor, and missing access to the building at night. It’s harder for you to get in now, isn’t it? I can fix a few of those problems for you. All I want is the same opportunity to make some money the way Kevin did. Only difference, I don’t steal off the top.”

  “Assuming I know what you mean,” Brayden said. “And I’m not saying I do, you’re Dr. Golden’s bitch. Everyone knows that. That’s not good for our enterprise. The whole point is keeping her away from what we’re doing. She can’t know anything about it. Assuming there’s anything to know.”

  “Little boy, I’m nobody’s bitch,” Lola said. “And if you want to play at being a kingpin, then step up to the plate and make decisions that are good for your whole crew. Time to take the diapers off and take the big boy step of pissing or getting off the pot. Call me when you decide you’re ready for it.” Lola slipped a piece of paper with her phone number in his pocket. “I’ll be hearing from you.”

  She walked away and didn’t look back. She didn’t enjoy playing into the stereotype of her appearance to scare people, but in this case, with Holt’s family on the line, she was happy to. She wondered how long it would be before she would hear from Brayden. After years of running the streets chasing after messed up young kids, she was a pretty good judge of the look in someone’s eyes. Brayden was in over his head and scared of something. Certainly her, but it seemed l
ike something else too. Hopefully, that made him desperate enough to bring her in, sight unseen. A seasoned criminal would never dream of it, but Brayden was far from that.

  Brayden was the kind of kid she would get the chance to help if she took Holt up on her offer to eventually take over at the foundation. She knew how much the charity meant to Holt. It was appealing, but right now she had a job to do. She’d think about it more once she sorted out this case and everyone was safe.

  She headed to the diner and Quinn. As she walked she thought about Brayden’s assertion that she was Quinn’s bitch. Seemed like the kind of rumor the Little Chihuahua might have started to get under her skin. She didn’t think a few weeks of after class breakfast meant she was Quinn’s anything.

  Breakfast bitch maybe. You do walk her back to her office even on days you’re almost too tired to drive home.

  For some reason, right now, Quinn was fine hanging out with a high school dropout custodian. Lola didn’t really want to ask her why. And Lola was sticking close to Quinn because she might be involved in the case. She was going to have to come up with another excuse soon, because Max had seemed pretty confident that Quinn wasn’t involved and Brayden had all but backed that up. Lola hadn’t thought Tiffany was involved in anything either though, and Mr. Malevolent had almost killed Tiffany, unborn George, and Dubs. All because she hadn’t kept her guard up when she should have. But how much has my worry about Quinn being the boogey man pulled my focus from where it should be?

  Lola was so distracted by her brooding self-flagellation that she didn’t notice Quinn standing in front of the diner waiting for her. She would have walked right past her, except Quinn stopped her by intertwining their hands and placing a quick kiss on her cheek.

  “Hi, sexy. I was worried you were going to stand me up.”

  “That would be criminal,” Lola said. She stiffened a little when Quinn held her hand, but she didn’t pull away, not this time. It felt too damn good. “Besides, I’m hungry.” She winked when she said it, making sure Quinn knew she was teasing her.

  “Well, you do know how to make a girl feel special.”

  You are to me. Lola just smiled, her doubts about her professionalism still plaguing her.

  They settled into their booth and ordered. Quinn looked reluctant but released Lola’s hand.

  “So, how did I do today? Class felt a little disjointed. I haven’t been able to get a good flow to this lecture. I’ve reworked it over and over, but it still kinda sucks.”

  “Not as far as I noticed,” Lola said. She hadn’t ever noticed a lecture that was anything less than brilliant. “But I’ve got a little bit of the hots for the teacher. You said you don’t like teaching. Does that mean you don’t want an academic life?”

  “I think I said I was a middling professor. That’s not the same thing as not liking something. Although I guess I don’t love it. I like it fine. I just happen to love being a scientist. But research requires money, and a lot of research institutions are academic in nature, or affiliated with colleges and universities.”

  “So you have to teach? That doesn’t seem fair.” Lola didn’t understand how the academic world worked, but forcing Quinn to do something she didn’t like seemed ridiculous.

  “No, I don’t have to. Well, right now I do. As a postdoc. But once I’m on my own, if I have my own grant funding, I don’t have to. It’s just a matter of where I get a job, and how much funding I have. Every researcher is constantly chasing the next grant to keep themselves, and their research staff, funded. If you have a job where teaching is an option, that at least guarantees some salary. Some people buy out of teaching with their grants when they have the money, and when they don’t, they teach some more.”

  “But that’s not what you want?” Lola found the world of higher education and research fascinating.

  “I’m trying to secure my own grant funding now and get a full-time position so I can leave my postdoc early. I haven’t applied to a position that requires lots of hours of teaching, so no, that’s not what I want.”

  “Wait, so you’re not going to be in Los Angeles? When are you leaving?” Lola’s heart sank. She knew it shouldn’t matter. After all, she wouldn’t be in Los Angeles past completing this case, but for some reason, it did matter. A lot.

  “I don’t know,” Quinn said. She didn’t seem to pick up on Lola’s real question. “I’ve applied to places all over the country. And I’ve got two grant applications I’m working on. You always ask me what keeps me up all night. Now you know.”

  “Okay, so now you have to give me the juicy details. What are your grants about and what lucky institutions will be fighting for you?” Lola tried hard not to think about other things that could be keeping Quinn up all night.

  “You really want to know all this?” Quinn asked. “You’ve been up all night, plus you sat through my class. We’re supposed to have a quick breakfast and then you go home to sleep.”

  “And I’ll do that. But I really do want to know. This is important to you. So it’s important to me. Besides, how am I going to tease Jessica about what horrible city you’re going to drag her off to if I don’t have insider information?” Lola was jealous of the idea of Jessica going with Quinn to wherever her next job took her. She didn’t want to think about why.

  “How do you know about that?” Quinn looked horrified.

  “The little Chihuahua thinks she can make me jealous by lording it over me that you and she are tight. She told me she’d go with you if you ever left.”

  “And can she?” Quinn asked. Her voice was low, almost shy, and she didn’t make eye contact with Lola.

  “Can she what?” Lola asked.

  “Make you jealous?”

  “Yes,” Lola said. She couldn’t lie. Quinn’s smile, so big and bright and beautiful it lit up the entire diner, was enough to make Lola wish she could have. She wished she could have added “but you’re leaving, I’m undercover, and you could be involved in people threatening the people most important to me,” but she didn’t. Quinn’s smile was all she saw.

  Lola tried to concentrate on what Quinn was saying, but she was too busy beating herself up for not putting a stop to whatever was going on between them. She shouldn’t be leading Quinn on. But when she looked at her across the table, all she saw was Quinn as she was right now, happy and relaxed, and the way she looked when she was lecturing, how brilliant she was, and how she made Lola feel smart too, despite her background. Some superhero I am. Guess we know what my kryptonite is.

  “…in Providence,” Quinn said.

  “Did you say Providence?” Lola said, snapping back to what Quinn was saying. She felt butterflies surge in her stomach.

  “Yes, that’s where one of the jobs is. It’s in my top three actually, but it’s a long shot. Their research program is outstanding and the position available isn’t one I’m really qualified for. I’m only a postdoc and they’re looking for a more established researcher. I applied for it on a whim. I figured it couldn’t hurt to get my name out there.”

  “A friend of mine already knew who you were when I mentioned I was having breakfast with you. She gave me the impression your name is already very much out there. I might have asked Google to tell me more as well. I told you I’d read some of your research papers, but I didn’t realize you were already kind of a hotshot. Why are you worried about not being qualified? I admit to not really knowing much about how these decisions get made, but wouldn’t everyone in the world want you?” Lola felt her cheeks flame at little at the last part.

  “I’m flattered, but I think you’ve overstated my importance. I’ve just expanded on work done by my research mentors. That’s the problem though. I’m not all that interested in the research topics I’ve built my reputation on. And that sucks because securing funding is all about proving you know what you’re doing and that you’ve successfully done something similar before. I’ve been really good at what I’ve done, which is basically a lot of work with fMRI and emotion regulati
on, to put it simply.”

  “I know. Your work has been brilliant,” Lola said. “From what I can tell, you’ve moved that field forward in ways no other researchers have in years.”

  Quinn waved her off. “Like I said, I’ve been lucky to work with great mentors and have access to data and research subjects that allow me to do interesting work. But I’m not really passionate about it. I don’t want to build my independent research career based on any of the work I’ve done so far. And that’s damn scary. Certainly for me, and probably for anyone who wants to take a chance on hiring me. Not to mention the government, who I’m asking to give me a lot of money.”

  “But you’ve already shown you’re an incredible researcher. Isn’t that enough?” Lola didn’t quite understand the problem.

  “I hope so, but I’m not sure. Maybe since I’m still a postdoc. Research is a funny world. People choose a path and then build incrementally on it their whole careers. Very few have projects on a wide range of topics they’re interested in, scattershot all over the map. It’s unusual for someone to change course and start a new program of study.” Quinn looked worried.

  “What is this new program of study that has won your heart and mind?” Lola loved listening to Quinn’s mind at work.

  “I’m interested in behavioral medicine. I want to find MRI correlates of addiction or Parkinson’s disease treatment outcome predictors. In laymen’s terms, let’s put someone in the scanner and expose them to craving cues and see why some people are better able to remain abstinent from nicotine, or drugs, or alcohol, while others aren’t. Or why do some people go through cardiac rehab and maintain their weight loss and exercise and others don’t? What clues do their brains hold?” Quinn’s excitement and passion were palpable.

  “So you want to save the world?” Lola was attracted to Quinn for so many reasons, but none more so than this, listening to her talk, watching her face light up and her eyes sparkle as she explained what she was passionate about. There was nothing sexier.