Dead Spaces: The Big Uneasy 2.0 (16 page)

She peeked at her dad. He looked grim and a bit shell shocked. She saw her face in the rear view. She’d never looked so much like him. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again when he turned toward the NOCC.

“I…need to pick up my car.” She’d felt so clever when she left it for the streetcar. Pride really did go before the fall. Or opened one up to parental grilling.

“And where is your car?”

She gave him the address. How did he manage to make her feel about seven years old? Had she felt seven when she
was
seven? Dimly she recalled hearing Zach tell someone that, “Hannah is seven-going-on-thirty.” Did that mean she was thirty-three-going-on-fifty now? Oh crap, maybe she was a cougar where Ferris was concerned. Unless she was thirty-three going on seven, which she didn’t want to think about.

“You’re being followed?”

“It’s not my fault,” she said and then clamped a hand over her mouth.

“I suppose it’s Alex’s fault,” Zach growled.

She choked. “Actually…”

A red light gave him a chance to give her the dad “look.”

“They were his girlfriend’s relatives’ coffins,” Hannah felt compelled to point out.

He choked this time. His mouth twisted. Luckily the light change saved him.

“If you turn here—”

“I was finding my way around this city before you were born.”

“Yes, sir,” she said meekly and had the satisfaction of seeing him bite his cheek. And here she’d thought she got her sense of humor from her mama.

L
ogan Ferris found
it hard to relax, knowing that Hannah was out there being followed for unknown reasons by an unknown number of bad guys.

Lose the parade.

She was a doctor, not a cop. How was she supposed to spot, let alone lose the parade? He itched to call her, but tough to do with her big brother at the wheel next to him. He had no desire to yank Alex’s attention his direction either, not with that level of scowl on his face. He opened his mouth to ask about Nell. Closed it. No point asking about Dunstead. Nothing to know until they got to their desks and could look at reports.

Who would have bailed him out? Ferris would have said the guy had no friends left. Sucked to be wrong.

Their radio chose that moment to come on. Vehicle explosion. Fire department at scene. One fatality. Suspicious circumstances. That was the part that triggered their involvement. Ferris flicked on their lights as Alex applied some pressure to the pedal.

They weren’t far from the scene, but the traffic got worse the closer they got. Even their lights didn’t shift it out of their way, not when cars had nowhere to shift to. In a rare, missed opportunity, no Lucky Dog truck had shown up yet. Finally Alex was able to nose their car through the tangle and into a spot enough out of the way to count. Still had a bit of a walk. They headed for the mob of people and the thinning smoke billow rising into the washed out, mid-day sky.

“Car bombs are kind of rare,” Ferris said, more thinking aloud than trying to get conversation going. Wasn’t surprised when Alex only grunted.

When they finally broke through the crowd, a uniform waved them through the police line. They paced around a fire truck and got their first look. Fire was out and the body had already been bagged and tagged. Ferris couldn’t be sorry about that.

Through the babel of talk, he heard one of the crime scene techs—not a Baker—say something about the explosion probably killed the driver before the fire….

He gave a bit of a shudder.

The front end looked like something from an Iraq news story. Gutted and twisted, the damage extended almost to the back seat. Interior was completely burned but firemen must have got it out fast, because burn marks streaked along the rear, but some of the color showed through the carbon and the general shape—

His thoughts slowed, as color and model registered. Like he had the night before, he went around the side of the car and looked down. Remembered opening a truck just like this one, down to the scratches around the lock. His mind registered the plate as if from a great distance. Then he looked up, saw the grim face of the uniform talking to Alex. Watched color bleed from his face leaving it gray and ashen. He swayed once, but shook off helping hands. His big hands curled into fists, but there was no one to hit—

He should go to him. Couldn’t help, but Alex was his partner, his friend. No one noticed Ferris stagger back two steps, hit the side of the fire engine and sink down on the running board.

It was a crap time to realize that he’d just lost the woman he…he…

He couldn’t think it because if he did—he dropped his face in his hands and groaned. He could. No one heard him. No one looked at him. All eyes were on Alex. Just needed a little time…a little more time…to…to…

…wish he was dead, too.

Z
ach’s phone shrilled
. He was driving so he ignored it. Stopped and started again. If a phone could sound insistent, even urgent, then his did.

“Sometimes these dang things…” he pounded a finger on answer and snapped, “What? I’m driving—of course I’m sitting down. Would I drive standing up?—What about Hannah?” His eyes widened. Widened some more. “Listen to me very carefully, Alex. Hannah is sitting right here with me in my car—do you think I don’t know my own daughter?” Another longer pause. “Just because I mix up their names—We’ll be right there—okay. Fair point. Hannah needs to report to work. Meet us there.” He ended the call and looked at her.

Hannah resisted the urge to repeat the “not my fault,” possibly because the look is his eyes was so grim. “What?”

“Someone blew up your car. Alex thought you were in it.”

“Someone blew up my car!” She got the “look” again. Man, he was dishing them out today. “Sorry,” she muttered, even though it really wasn’t her fault. “Is Alex okay?” Though why he wouldn’t be…wasn’t his car—Ferris. He’d have been with Alex. “So, they—he’s meeting us at the NOCC?”

Zach had started to turn back to driving, but he stopped and looked at her again. “That’s the second time you’ve done that.”

“Done what?” She’d learned early to never admit anything. Ever.

“Changed plural to singular.”

She swallowed. Had hoped he hadn’t noticed and was wondering if she’d ever heard her dad use a sentence with—

“Well, in our family, it’s not easy to get over using plurals…” Hannah pointed out. Not her best, and sadly, not her worst attempt at deflecting Zach.

“Right. How about we talk about those plurals while I drive you to work. And then you can tell me what else you aren’t telling me.”

L
eblanc knew better
than to show surprise when she came back. He’d heard about Calvino, of course, but Afoniki, well, it had not hit the news yet, he supposed. Her husband had died since they last met, so he murmured condolences as he got her settled and then took his seat behind his desk. He very much hoped she didn’t invite him to the funeral. It was a conflict of interest that she might not understand. She’d draped herself in tasteful black and wore a gentle air of sorrow, but her eyes showed her to be embracing her heritage with an almost unbecoming eagerness. To head off an invite, to give the visit a business-like theme, he spoke first.

“You have the, er, items, Ms. White?”

She opened her purse and pulled something out. “I have two of them.” She opened her hand.

Leblanc considered the two rings with no outward sign of emotion. He’d never seen the rings, except in photos taken by his grandfather. “May I?”

After a short hesitation, she handed him one. Leblanc did not smile at her obvious distrust. And it was…mutual. He pulled out a loupe and studied the stone. It was a fine stone, almost unblemished so that the numbers etched in the setting could be seen. But the outer band was not as pictured. Had Zafiro added something after delivery? It was, he supposed, possible, but out of character. If he had trusted a Leblanc with the secret, why not with all the secret? He studied the engravings through the loupe. The series of numbers and letters meant nothing, could have referred to anything.

Without speaking, he handed this ring back, accepted the second from her. He had no reason to doubt its authenticity. Though, he noted, the numbers and letters were different from the other ring. He handed it back.

“And the third ring?”

“That stupid old man won’t leave his house,” she snapped.

Leblanc waited without speaking.

“Well, I thought maybe there’d be something for two out of three.”

“No,” he said, managing to infuse spurious regret into the single word. The world, not just his world, but the world, would be a better place if she failed at the task set before her. He’d wondered when he read of her husband’s death. He didn’t wonder now, though he was curious how she’d managed it. Impressed she’d managed to take out Bettino Calvino, though with him, she would have surprise on her side. Aleksi would definitely be the hardest nut to crack.

The flash in her eyes almost—but she needed him. That knowledge held her in check. For now.

Her mouth opened and almost he guessed what she wanted to say. What did it matter now if he told her what he knew without that last ring? Her lips curved, like a tiger, waiting to pounce.

“How loyal you are,” she murmured. She tucked the rings back inside her matching black purse and closed it with a loud snap. “I feel so…comforted by that.”

Leblanc waited until she was gone before tugging at his tie. It was too late to undo what he’d done, and it went against his deepest grain. Of course, he was unlikely to live long enough for an ethics probe, assuming someone complained about him. He extracted his cell and dialed. Had he always had this number on speed dial? Interesting that he’d only just realized—

“It’s Leblanc. I was wondering if we might meet today?” He paused and looked at his full calendar. “I’ll be free all afternoon.” Then he buzzed his assistant. “I’ll need you to clear the rest of my calendar for today.”

It was unusual and he wondered if the man would remember later and if he did, if it would help the police.

H
annah could only be
grateful when the way-too-long ride with Zach ended at the NOCC. He followed her inside, but even he wouldn’t grill her at her workplace. Or in front of other people. She hoped. She was on track for the lab when she saw Miz Cookie looking sweetly tragic in the hallway. Hannah halted so abruptly Zach almost bumped into her. She stepped into the scarce shadow of an office door, acting on instinct. Not sure why she expected Zach to say something, but other than glancing down the hall, then at her, he stepped out of the direct light as well.

Well, he was a cop, even if he was retired.

“Scary,” he muttered.

And she’d needed Sarah to give her heads up on Miz Cookie. Hannah made a mental memo to sigh once Zach was gone. Would he leave after she’d almost been blown up? Her world tilted a bit, but before she could fully process this, the receptionist looked around for help and spotted her. The least she could do was spare Zach, so she stepped out.

“Something I can help with?”

Miz Cookie turned, her careful smile faltering as she spotted Hannah. A puzzled look of ‘should I know you,’ then the color drained from her face and she swayed, her eyes almost rolling back in her head. Hannah grabbed one arm, knew she couldn’t keep her off the ground by herself—

“Help me,” Hannah snapped. The girl jumped in and so did Zach, though he retreated as soon as Miz Cookie was in the chair. Lucky man that he could. Hannah eased her head down until she stirred and pushed against her. After a minute Miz Cookie sat up, but kept a hand over her face, a small moan escaping her lips.

“This place,” she faltered, “is so distressing.”

It hadn’t been that distressing until Hannah joined the discussion. Had she recognized the prime rib cutter from her party? But why would that make her almost faint? Hannah arched a brow at the girl.

“Mrs. White wanted to claim her husband’s body, but he donated it to science,” she explained.

“Science can have him. I just want him until after the wake. I need closure, I need to say goodbye to my own dear Harold.”

Hannah looked a question at the girl, who shook her head.

“It looks like science already claimed him, ma’am,” Hannah said. “Is there someone we could call for you?” If she had science’s number, she’d have called them.

Miz Cookie said in faltering tones that now sounded fake, “My driver…he should be right out front….”

Hannah felt a bit mean thinking she was faking it. The lady was still very pale. Whatever had shocked, that had been real. Left alone with her, the silence felt awkward, though Hannah had no idea why. “Can I get you some water or something?”

The hand lowered. Yeah, she was pale, but the sugary smile was back. It looked a bit odd with her expression. Once again, Hannah wished she had better people reading skills.

“You’re wondering…” Miz Cookie gave an exaggerated shudder, and indicated Hannah’s ID. “Your name.”

“My…name?” Hannah touched the ID.

“I heard it on the news on the way here. That you’d been killed in an explosion or something. This place, my recent loss…then, well, a dead woman walking toward me—I’m afraid I felt faint.”

Hannah blinked. She wasn’t sure she’d make that connection from a radio news story, but okay…

“I’m sure it’s no surprise, ma’am—” The approach of the driver was salvation in a uniform. With perhaps too much alacrity, Hannah rose and let the driver have her spot. She managed to escape with a mumbled something or other. Was glad to sink down at her own desk, even if Zach was waiting for her.

“What was that about?”

“Science got her husband’s body before she did,” Hannah murmured, wondering what kind of person heard a random name on the radio and remembered it enough to faint when that person turned out to not be dead?

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

Zach hadn’t called her that, well since a new baby girl had replaced her. Which would make it a very long time. She felt actual tears sting the corners of her eyes.

“I’m not sure, daddy,” she said and sniffed, then gave a laugh that was more wry than amused. They’d be drowning in sentimentality if this went on any longer.

His answering smile was also wry. “Well, much as I hate to admit it, if anyone can figure it out, it’s probably you. You got your mama’s brains.”

“You sure about that? My dad’s a pretty smart guy.”

“Is he?”

He was worried, she realized, puzzled for a moment. Then it hit her. “That was a pretty clever dodge you pulled off back then.”

He grimaced. “Not my finest hour.”

“So we don’t serve and protect family? I can’t see what else you could have done.” If he’d tried to do it legal with Curly there in the wings, and on Zafiro’s payroll… “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been.” Trying to protect Charlie. Not sure who he could trust, so trusting no one. Knowing him, he wouldn’t have shared that dangerous burden with anyone.

“I’ve seen the way you kids have looked at me since…” he stopped, scowling.

“If we have, it’s only from the shock of realizing you’re a real person and not just our dad.” It wasn’t the whole truth, of course. They had been looking at him with questions in their eyes because who they thought he was had gone out of focus. But at the back of it was a certainty that he’d done his best. And perhaps a belated realization he wasn’t perfect. “I know this will come as a shock, but we never really thought you were, you know, perfect.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “When did you grow up?”

“While you were working,” she shot back and grinned. “You might mention it to Alex when he gets here—”

The door slammed back and Alex filled the opening, his gaze both angry and worried.

“Mom’s here,” she muttered, for Zach’s ears only. He coughed and she stood up, totally not as a defensive move, but because she felt like it. “Not even slightly singed.” She fought the urge to edge behind Zach for protection. The other door swung open, and there was Ferris, filling the other half of the opening. The worry and something else in his face, well, it made her catch her breath. Aware of Zach watching, she tried for light, but before she could do more than give him a wavering smile, he surged past Alex and grabbed her, pulling her tightly against his chest. Okay, she hadn’t expected that move. It was very nice, but hard to completely enjoy it with her dad and her brother watching.

“Alex said you were all right, but I couldn’t—didn’t believe him,” he growled in her ear.

At loss for a witty comeback or a clever deflection, Hannah opted to bury her head in his shoulder and take comfort from the frantic thumping of his heart. His hands touched her hair, her shoulders, then clutched her again and it finally, fully hit her that if someone hadn’t—what?—tried to steal her car maybe? She’d have been the one—

It was a good thing he had a tight grip on her, because her knees went weak.

I
t had been
easy to get his arms around Hannah. Under the laser regard of her dad and her brother, it should have been easy to open a distance. Only it wasn’t. It felt like…retreat. And she had her head buried in his shoulder. He’d believed her gone. Holding her was the only way to prove she wasn’t. To know that she was very much alive.

Would he have preferred this proof to occur in private? Oh yes. So much did he wish that, well, yeah, it was a very deep wishing. Wild ideas of escape passed through his brain. All of which, he suspected, would be ruthlessly squelched by Alex, who had shifted so that he blocked the whole of the exit. Zach, he looked on the enigmatic side there, possibly a bit thoughtful. Who’d have thought the dad would appear more reasonable than the big brother? Appear being the operative word.

“This is kind of awkward,” Hannah whispered.

“Yeah.” The agreement was a breath of sound that he hoped didn’t reach other ears. “Any idea how—”

“—we get out of it? Um, count of three we both step back?”

To his surprise, his hands tightened. “I’ll try.”

The feel of her silent chuckle helped. Her head lifted, her hair brushing against his face as her mouth—not the time for that, Ferris reminded himself—then her eyes came into view. His arms slowly dropped. He saw her lips move in a silent count and at three, he took one step back.

“I’m,” he had to clear the huskiness from his throat to continue, “glad you’re all right.” The formal tone was way too late.

“Thank you.” Her formal response was also too little, too late. Probably be funny later. If he survived to later.

“What the—” Alex began ominously.

Hannah swung around and silenced him with a look that impressed Ferris so much he almost grabbed her again.

“It’s pretty obvious what is going on, Alex, and if you weren’t so primitive about everything, we’d have told you,” Hannah said, with admirable calm. Then spoiled it by flicking a look at her dad.