Justice Incarnate (10 page)

Brian gave a somber nod.

"What about the evidence?"

"When?"

"You dug into it, right?"

"Well, yeah," he confessed.

"And?" Jaden prompted when he said no more.

"And I saw a pattern. Not one I can connect directly to Albertson, though."

"Of course not." It wouldn't be that easy. "What did you see?"

"Missing evidence, harsh judgments, and several false accuser sentences."

"And that tells you?"

"Oh, my God." Brian scrubbed at his face. "The museum."

"What about it?" Baffled she turned to face him.

"He funded the display you robbed."

"I didn't rob it, I retrieved what was mine. You robbed it. What'd you take?"

"I'm not sure." His fingers tingled. He'd have to go back for the necklace before the cleaning crew emptied his desk.

"He asked me to suppress news of your break in."

"Our break in."

"I was undercover," he said with a wink. "My point is he didn't ask for anything dark, mysterious or illegal."

"Suppressing evidence isn't illegal?" she exclaimed.

"Suppressing news isn't illegal. It's a common practice in law enforcement. I'd think you'd be grateful he didn't want to press charges."

"When will you get it? Pressing charges against me would be counterproductive for him. Whatever he's after, he wants me out here to see it happen. To know I can't do anything to stop him."

"What can you do to stop him?"

"Only death will interrupt him."

"Interrupt?"

"I've killed him a dozen times over. Then you kill me and we start again."

Brian gaped at her, taking a step back and sinking onto the couch. This was too weird. "You've lost your mind," he finally whispered.

"Not at all. I'm sane as they come. You're the problem. You've blocked your memories." And she refused to envy him for it. "You didn't believe me the first time. You've never believed me since. I don't know why I even hope you'll see the light now."

The tears streaking her face unnerved him and surprised her, if her swiping at them was any indication.

"Hold on a minute." On instinct alone, he stood and moved closer to offer comfort.

"No. Go away." She batted at him. "Go back to your cushy job and your horrible friend and I'll take care of it like I always do. But this time, when you have a choice between taking my life and taking my word at least pause for a second and think about it!"

She stormed out of the suite. He thought about following, but she was too mad. Opting for action in the face of an unknown number of hours waiting for her return, Brian began planning how best to break into his own office to recover the necklace.

A tour of the stocked suite revealed not only a fridge full of food, legal and not, but closets filled with an eclectic assortment of clothing. Micky could always open a boutique if smuggling sugar didn't work out.

One call to Micky's assistant resulted in a wig and some basic makeup delivered within minutes. Considering the resources, he knew he'd be pushing it to walk into his own office in broad daylight with nothing more than a poor impersonation of a cross-dressing hooker.

Habit had him reaching for his security access card. "Damn." Another reach proved he didn't have a cell card to contact his favorite informant either. "She had to torch the coat."

When the door chime sounded, Brian was ready to run his plan by Jaden. But the female on the other side of the door was a stranger. A skinny, despondent stranger who seemed just as surprised to see him.

"I thought she'd be here," she said.

"Thought you were her," he admitted. "Can I help you?" She visibly shivered, as if the offer petrified her. Years of victim-sensitivity training kicked in. "We can leave the door open."

She nodded and stepped just over the threshold, gripping the doorjamb with a white knuckled hand. "I-I just wanted to talk. She gets it."

"Okay." Brian hooked his thumbs in his back pockets and waited.

"She says since he marked me I'm safe. But I wish...I wish he'd killed me too," she finished in a rush.

"Too?"

"Yeah. They're the lucky ones. And I'm too chicken to do it myself."

"So you're thinking suicide?"

She gulped, looked away. "I wanted to talk to her."

"How?"

"I-I've got pills."

"Too slow and no guarantees. Around here someone would find you in plenty of time."

The eyes drowning in the dark, hollow circles filled, telling him she agreed. "I thought maybe–"

"You thought Jaden had a weapon? Or maybe even enough pity to do the job for you?" Tears flowed down her cheeks, but he wasn't done. "Show me this mark."

She trembled, but pulled her hair back from her neck.

He didn't have to terrify her by coming closer. The imprint just behind and below her left ear was all too visible. He stared at the angry red, infinity-shaped branding and as much as he wanted to deny it, he recognized the pattern.

"Rape?"

Her eyes hit the floor.

"Humiliation. Torture," he added.

More tears squeezed through the wet lashes.

"And you'd let him have your life too?"

Her eyes popped open, met his.

He was pleased by the faint glimmer of defiance.

"What good is it to me now? To anyone?"

"You tell me. No one else has that answer. Not even Jaden."

"She recorded my statement. She knows how it feels."

"Whatever." Brian shrugged. "Have a seat. Wait for her." He turned away, pretending to ignore her as he waited for her next move.

"I'm useless," she said, still rooted at the doorway. "I can't even step onto the street anymore."

"That limits your options."

She hissed at him. "You're an ass."

He laughed. "Sticks and stones."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. What's your name?"

"Leigh."

"Well, Leigh, what d'ya know about makeup?"

"Enough."

"I don't know squat," he lied. "Care to lend me a hand while you wait?" He caught the wary gaze and sent her an easy smile. "You can leave the door open."

Out of sight at the end of the hall, Jaden marveled at his technique with the fragile girl. Maybe the man had one redeeming quality after all. But it was one thing to help a victim take a step toward true survival and renewed life. Quite another to help a timeless survivor bent on defeating an evil you called friend.

Chapter Six

Time Stamp: 1542

The tapestry quivers as if stirred by the air, though he room is stifling. Still, I follow milady's orders, shutting the windows tight and keeping the fire ablaze. Tending her every whim has become tedious and hot work these last days. She sulks, eating little and crying much. I worry for her, though whatever causes her distress is beyond my place to ask. Loosening my gown, I fan the stale air into my shift, wishing I could dispense with it as well.

Settling onto my pallet near the window, I am sorely tempted to open it for some small relief. Then the tapestry falls to the floor and several men burst into the chamber, knives glinting in the moonlight. I cry out to alert milady, but they've bound her before I can be of any help. Tears flood her face while I plead for her life and I am near grateful to be seized as well. Whatever happens, she will need me, of that I am sure.

Chicago: 2096

Satisfied in his disguise as one of Micky's mules, Brian stepped into the hallway and made his way back to the first junction they'd passed on the way in. With a steady stride despite the heeled boots, he followed his innate sense of direction and worked his way toward the back of the warehouse building. Falling in with a group of girls, he found himself in what looked like an old college dorm. With less style.

"You're new?" a woman asked.

Not trusting his voice, Brian only nodded. At first glance, he would've pegged her around fifteen years old. But her voice and a closer look revealed a woman in her twenties.

"Don't be shy. C'mon join some face time."

He shook his head and kept moving. Another open door proved the girls were as close as family. The open-door policy proved their contentment with the situation. The bits of conversation filtering into the hallway convinced him he was better off a man. Any public discussion of a bikini wax should be outlawed.

Outside, Brian fell into the rhythm of the street and absorbed the pulse of his city. He'd always felt this raw edge is where the city really came alive. Down here, facing life and death on every corner, you earned a different viewpoint. You appreciated the smallest blessings and learned to let the rest roll off. And you got damn good at recognizing the good and bad in those around you.

If he were completely honest with himself, he'd have to say meeting Jaden on the street, he'd known she was more than the thief she'd presented. And in her apartment, the courthouse, the alley, he'd seen integrity in her eyes.

He wanted to see insanity, at the least. He wanted to see anything but the weary determination that called out to him to believe.

But believe what?

He could believe the Judge wasn't perfect. He could admit the man was power hungry–but capable of the travesties she implied?

He didn't want to believe that. He didn't want to accept he'd been duped or used all these years. But he also knew that crimes didn't get solved if he boxed himself in with emotions.

"Going somewhere, beautiful?" Jaden asked, materializing at his side.

No sense wasting time wondering how she'd found him. "Yeah. I need to pick up something from my dear departed brother."

He noticed she'd scuffed herself up a bit so they both looked like they'd just come off a hard shift at a local sweatshop. With rounded shoulders and a worn sling bag, she'd blend into the ever-shifting background easily enough.

"So you're trying to be the sister the Chief never mentioned?"

"Would you mention me?" He smiled.

Jaden found herself smiling back. Looking him over, she decided no one would give him more than a passing glance. The boots explained his height, the wig and makeup were overdone. He stood out, yet his police buddies would label him a gender freak and ignore him. Not a bad plan.

"So you're along as my supportive friend?"

She wanted to be honest, but it didn't seem quite right to nail him with his earliest failures. Especially when he was dressed as a girl. "If we're friends, we'll have to discuss cramps and men. You sure you're up for it?"

"On second thought..."

She laughed. "What's your plan? Get arrested for solicitation?"

"Something like that."

"Why not make it easy and use your access card? They haven't cleared it yet."

"It was in my jacket." He shot her a look. "Hey, how would you know if it's cleared?"

"I know quite a bit about codes, processors and the habits of the police force."

"Why and how?"

"Survival 101, girlfriend: know the enemy."

"Odd outlook for a rogue security specialist."

"You mean dead rogue security specialist. I suppose the dead part's been my real problem all along," she muttered.

"Meaning?"

She shook her head. "Later." She pointed toward the police station a few blocks over. "What's your plan?"

He stopped and she watched his eyes fog in thought. "I'll walk in, explain how my brother, the chief, called me about something and go from there."

"Your plan's doomed."

"Really?" He crossed his arms over his fake breasts. "You got something better?"

She lifted one shoulder. "I don't even know what you're after."

"I need to pick up something from my desk."

"What sort of something?"

"Just something I picked up."

"Oh! That little bauble from the museum gift shop?" she said more loudly than necessary.

His eyes darted around, searching out eavesdroppers or worse. But the street was empty.

"Nervous?" she teased.

"No."

"Then, why the jitters?" She stilled the fake red nails drumming against his opposite arm.

He froze, staring first at her hand, then her face. His eyes captivated her, transporting her to another time and place before the dark reality of her recycled lives began.

"Who are you, Jaden Michaels?"

His question yanked her back to the present dilemma. "Just a woman on a mission, girlfriend. Let's do this thing."

Who am I? She sulked as they angled toward the alley between the station and the holding cells. Who am I? If just once he'd remember maybe they'd be done with all this. But no, Mr. Jigsaw here, needed to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. Trouble was he'd never adapted to the evolving picture.