Penumbra (9 page)

“Give me a call when you wake up,” she continued. “Lunch is my treat.”

Her words invoked memories of the last time she'd treated him to lunch. Eating hadn't exactly come into it, and damn if it hadn't been fun. Again he reached out. Again he hesitated.

If he went and saw Sandy, he'd have a hard time breaking away anytime before dinner. He couldn't go there simply for sex and then walk away. It wasn't fair to her, no matter how casual either of them was about their relationship.

Better for them both if he simply didn't respond. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and climbed out of bed. Seeing as he had nothing else planned for today, he might as well grab the chance to exercise, then head down to Federation headquarters.

Surely, somewhere in the vast archives there, he'd find something about shadow walkers.

Sam tucked a leg beneath her as she sat on the sofa. After placing her coffee on the table, she grabbed the portable com-unit and pressed her thumb into the lock.

“Voice identification required,” the unit stated.

“Sam Ryan, SIU officer, badge number 1934.”

Talking still hurt, but nowhere near as much as it had only hours before. Though her mouth still felt tender, at least the swelling had gone down, her teeth seemed to have reanchored, and the bruise that stretched from her lip to her eye was already beginning to get that faded, yellow look. Even the cut had begun to heal.

At least she looked less like a boxer that had taken too many hits and more like something a cat had dragged in and toyed with for several hours. It was a definite improvement.

“Voice scan correct. Eye confirmation required.”

She looked into the small scanner fitted into the left-hand side of the unit. A red beam swept over her eye.

“Eye scan correct.” The unit clicked open.

Izzy appeared onscreen. “Morning, sweetness. Being portable is a new experience, I must say.”

Sam grinned. Having her cyber character on the unit was an unexpected bonus. She'd thought Stephan would place voice-only response software on the portable unit, as both he and Gabriel seemed to prefer it. But maybe he wasn't as insensitive as she'd thought.

“Morning, Iz. Listen, I asked for a trace to be done on a gray-haired man last night. Are the results back yet?”

Izzy twirled her purple boa for several seconds. “Yep. Got it right here. No ID match so far.”

Sam frowned. How could there be no match? The man had to exist on a computer
somewhere.
“Have they checked the Motor Registration records?”

“Yup. There is no car registration, no driver's license and no Medicare card match.”

Every adult in Australia had a Medicare card. You couldn't go to the doctor without one these days. She picked up her coffee and sipped at it for several seconds.

“What about the shooter?”

“Again, no ID match. A formal request for ID has been sent to Hopeworth, though.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. That could cause a few waves. “Any response from Hopeworth?”

“Not a fig, sweetie.”

Not surprising. What
was
surprising, however, was the fact that the SIU still had the body. She'd have thought Hopeworth would have tried a clandestine retrieval by now.

“Are they doing tests on the body?”

“Agent Finley is currently examining it.”

Then she'd have to remember to ask him what he discovered when she saw him at the meeting O'Hearn had arranged for later today.

“Do I have any mail from that real-estate cretin yet?”

The boa twirled; the response time was slightly slower on the portable unit. “Yep. One came through last night.”

“Put it onscreen, and thanks, Iz.”

Izzy disappeared, replaced by a three-page list. Sam smiled slightly as she scanned it. He was obviously sending her everything in the State of Victoria that had a sea view, not just those apartments within the metropolitan area. Some of them were as far away as Warrnambool, while others were over on Western Port Bay.

It wasn't until the very last page that one caught her interest. It was an old A-frame house, surrounded by trees and close to the top of a hill, so that it overlooked the bay.

Kingston, she thought with a frown. It was a hell of a distance to travel to work every day, even with the recently completed Western Port tollway. Still, she had nearly a whole day ahead of her and nothing to lose by looking. Leaning sideways, she grabbed the phone and quickly dialed the real-estate agent's number.

“You could fit six to eight villa units on a block this size, easy. It's a great investment for the future.”

Sam ignored the agent's ramblings and stared out the ceiling-high windows. Though listed as a part of Kingston, the house was actually several kilometers outside the resort township. Built on the side of a steep hill, the house had an almost unhindered view of Western Port Bay. Just across the dirt road, the cliffs plunged toward the ocean. With the wind blowing hard, as it was today, the waves reared high, as if trying to escape the bay's grasp, and foam sizzled across the black rocks lining the cliff top. The bay looked stormy—dangerous—and yet it called to something deep within her. At night, she could lie in bed and watch the sea. Watch all the brightly lit tankers glide by or the storms roll in.

She opened the sliding door and walked out onto the deck. The wind carried the rich tang of the ocean, and gum trees tossed and shivered. She leaned on the railing and looked at the ground.

The whole place was a run-down mess. Half the fence line had either fallen over or was in the process of doing so. The garden had long since turned to weeds, and the driveway had ruts deep enough to lose a football in. The house itself was in little better shape. The kitchen was decorated in orange and green, and it didn't even have an autocook. Apparently, the old couple who'd owned the house had preferred to do their own cooking and had installed an old-fashioned stove. Most of the walls were in desperate need of paint, the carpet covering the stairs leading to the upper floor was threadbare and the banister wobbled worse than a drunk after a ten-hour binge. Sections of both this deck and the one on the side above the garage were half-rotten and would need replacing.

It would cost a fortune to fix it up—a fortune she didn't really have. The money she'd gotten from the sale of her apartment would pay for this outright and leave enough to buy a car. But that was it. There'd be nothing left for repairs. It would be madness to even consider buying it.

She raised her gaze and stared at the sea for several minutes, watching the foamy fingers of ocean creep across the damp black rocks. She felt the power of the waves shiver through her until her entire body seemed to tingle with its energy.

Common sense could go hang. There was something about the run-down, out-of-date old house that she just loved. And there was something about the raw closeness of the ocean that she needed.

She walked back into the bedroom. “I'll take it.”

The agent's face lit up—no doubt from the prospect of finally having her off his client list.

“I'll just run downstairs and get my com-unit. We'll get all the paperwork signed now, if you like.”

He disappeared in a cloud of dust, probably afraid that she'd change her mind. Smiling slightly, she turned back to the window with its amazing view.

And noted the white Toyota parked down the road.

Under normal circumstances, she might not have taken notice. But the road was private and clearly marked as such, and it didn't lead anywhere beyond the last house. The real-estate agent had already told her that the owners of the other nine properties were summer residents.

It might simply be someone enjoying the view, or it might be someone casing his next hit.

The question was, would the car remain here at the property, or would it follow her when she left? She'd just have to wait and see. Then she would know if this was a job for the SIU or just the local police.

Having made her decision, she turned and walked downstairs. The agent bustled back inside and motioned her toward the dilapidated kitchen counter. She'd contacted her solicitor earlier, getting him to do a quick check on the property. Everything was legit. Still, just to be safe, she scanned the countless forms with her wristcom and sent them on, refusing to sign anything until he'd given the all clear. Only then did she key in her bank details and transfer the funds. The house was hers.

“It'll take a day or so for this paperwork to go through and be fully registered,” the agent said, holding out the keys. “I'll pass everything on to your solicitor to be double-checked, of course.”

She took the keys, an odd feeling of elation bubbling through her. “Thanks.”

He nodded. “You going to hang around for a while?”

She glanced at her watch and regretfully shook her head. “I can't. I'm working tonight.”

He nodded again and held out his hand. “It's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

The relief in his voice made her grin. “They make you say that, don't they?”

His startled smile showed a hint of true warmth. “First lesson,” he said cheerfully.

She checked the doors, ensuring everything was locked, then followed him out. At her rental car, she stopped and breathed in the heady aroma of eucalyptus and the salty hint of sea. Excitement pulsed through her. The scent of
home.
God, how she wished she didn't have to go back to the city and Wetherton.

Before the call to stay overwhelmed her common sense, she climbed into the car and headed back to the city. She hadn't yet reached the tollway when she spotted the Toyota again.

Okay, so it wasn't a thief and it wasn't a tourist. It was someone
tailing
her. That meant the SIU. She watched the car in the rearview mirror for several minutes, then tapped her wristcom.

“Christine,” she said, when the SIU's electronic receptionist came online, “Agent Ryan here. Patch me through to someone in operations.”

“One moment, please.”

The screen flickered and a thin-looking black man replaced Christine. “Agent Donner here. What can I do for you, Agent Ryan?”

“I think I've picked up a tail. Four cars back from my current location. White Toyota.”

“Hang on while I do a trace.”

He turned away and she glanced at the rearview mirror. Whoever was driving the Toyota was damn good. She could barely see the driver behind the green four-wheel drive.

“Okay, got you. Fourth car back, you said?”

“Yep. I'd like a license plate and registration search done, if possible.”

“I've gotta zoom in the satellite. That could take a few minutes.”

“I'll wait.”

Donner whistled tunelessly for a good five minutes, then gave a satisfied grunt. “Got him. Or her, as the case may be.”

“Who's the registered owner?”

“One Jessie McMahon, from Eltham.”

Sam swore softly. Jessie McMahon. Gabriel's sister.

The bastard was having her followed.

“
Y
OU WANT ME TO ARRANGE
an intercept?” Agent Donner asked.

Sam flexed her fingers in an effort to relax her grip on the steering wheel. “No, I think I'll handle it. Thanks, Donner.”

He nodded. “Give me a call if you need help.”

“Thanks. I will.” She flicked off the wristcom and stared at the white Toyota through the rearview mirror.

Why was Gabriel having her tailed? And why have his sister do it when he practically had the entire SIU at his beck and call?

She doubted that he'd provide any answers if she confronted him, but Jessie might. The few times she'd met his sister, she'd seemed more upfront, more accessible, than her brother.

A green-and-gold sign came into view, indicating there was a side road half a kilometer ahead, on her left.
Perfect.

She leaned forward, switched the computer from auto-drive to manual and moved into the left-hand lane. Leaving the indicator on, she slowed and glanced in the rearview mirror. The Toyota had also switched lanes and was sitting behind a red Commodore.

Sam turned left. Not far ahead, the road did a sharp turn right and disappeared behind some trees. She put her foot down, accelerating around the corner. Once around it, she braked hard, the car shuddering as the tires struggled for purchase on the dirt road. As dust puffed around the car, she threw open the door and climbed out. A quick glance confirmed that the beginning of the road was hidden by the trees. Jessie wouldn't know Sam had stopped until she rounded the corner, though she'd left plenty of room for the Toyota to stop. She wanted to question Jessie, not hurt her.

Sam walked across the road to the gum trees and waited. Two minutes later the Toyota came around the corner, making an unintentional beeline straight for her car. She had a brief glimpse of Jessie's surprised expression. Then Jessie braked and the Toyota slewed to a stop. Sam hurried over and opened the door.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just chagrined.” Jessie glanced up, a wry smile touching her lips. “Gabriel's going to kill me for being caught.”

“If he's still alive after I get through with him.” Sam hesitated, trying to control the swift jab of anger. “You want to explain why he's got you tailing me?”

Jessie ran a hand through her dark curls. “There's a roadside diner about a kilometer up the road. Why don't we talk there? I need some coffee anyway.”

“I'll follow you there.”

Sam slammed the door shut, walked over to the Ford and climbed in. After starting up the car, she followed Jessie back onto the main road.

Once they reached the diner and had their order taken by the gum-chewing waitress, Sam crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. “So, why is your brother having me tailed?”

Jessie sighed. “He's worried about your safety.”

“Yeah, so worried he wanted me dumped as a partner.” Sam snorted softly. “Be honest, at least.”

“I am.” Jessie hesitated, her gaze suddenly intent. “And you know why he didn't want you as a partner, don't you?”

“He thinks he's jinxed.”

Jessie nodded. “His standard excuse for wanting to work alone.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do I detect a hint of sarcasm in that statement?”

“More than a hint.” Jessie hesitated, glancing up with a smile as the waitress placed their coffee on the table. “Personally, I think he was desperate to get rid of you simply because you forced him to
feel.
”

“Well, if I had that effect on him, I sure as hell couldn't tell it.” He'd shown more emotion with Sandy, in the brief ten minutes she'd seen them together, than he ever had with her over the nine months they'd been partners.

Jessie's smile was a touch wry. “Gabriel's become very adept at controlling his emotions. But I think the fact that he's gone against Stephan's direct orders here proves he does indeed care.”

“Or it could simply mean he wants to ensure my safety until you've all discovered just how useful I might be to the Federation, his first and greatest love.”

“The Federation is not his greatest love. It's Stephan's.” Jessie tilted her head. There was a sharpness in her green eyes that made Sam uncomfortable. It almost felt like this woman was capable of seeing far more than most. “How do you feel about Gabriel?”

“He pisses me off more than any man I have ever known.”

“You're not alone there.” Amusement ran through her voice. “But other than that, I mean.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “Why do you want to know? And what does it matter anyway?”

“I want to know because I'm a busybody with the best interests of my brother at heart. And it matters because I think he's acting like a goddamn fool.”

“Because he's having me followed?”

“No, because he's ignoring the blindingly obvious.”

“Which is?”

Jessie smiled. “Answer the question first.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, I'm attracted to him. Whether it's just a physical thing, or whether it could be more, I'll probably never find out.”

“Why not? There's no law stating a woman can't ask a man out. In fact, in this day and age, a woman is a fool if she doesn't go after what she wants.”

“I asked him out for coffee and he refused. I dressed sexily and he didn't bat an eyelid. If he's attracted, he obviously has no intention of acting on it.”

Jessie chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, it's going to take a little more effort than that to land this particular fish.”

Sam picked up her coffee, blowing lightly on the steaming liquid as she studied Jessie over the rim. “And what makes you so sure that I want to land him? That's his choice. It's his life.”

“In our family, no one flies solo.” Jessie smiled, but Sam had a feeling she was deadly serious. That it was a statement of fact and, perhaps, a warning. “And believe me, he is worth landing under all that prickly armor. But if you want him, you must take the lead. Be the hunter, even if it isn't in your nature.”

“Are you telling me to go after your brother?”

“Yes. Until you nail him.” Jessie grinned. “And whether that be sexually, emotionally or both, I don't care.”

“Why?”

“Because he is going to end up a very lonely and bitter old man if someone doesn't crack his reserve, and I don't want to see that happen.” Her grin grew. “Besides, he's crazy about you, even if he's not willing to admit it, even to himself.”

Something Sam found
very
hard to believe. “So, why me, specifically? Especially when he apparently has a sexual relationship with another agent?”

Jessie waved a hand. “That's just a mutual relieving of tension. You're the first person in a long time that he has shown any sort of emotion toward. Therefore, you're the logical choice.”

“I can't believe you're discussing something as intimate as your brother's love life with someone you don't even know!” And actually, she couldn't believe
she
was doing the same. But there was something very comforting
and
comfortable about this woman's presence.

“Ah, but I do know you. And we are going to be very good friends.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “So, basically, you're the crazy one in the family?”

“No. The clairvoyant. The future is my playground.”

“I'm betting it isn't always a pleasant one.”

Jessie's bright eyes briefly shadowed. “No.”

Sam sipped her coffee. Then, in an effort to get onto a safer topic, she said, “So, Gabriel's actually having me tailed because…?”

“Because he believes Hopeworth is after you.”

If last night was any indication, they were. And they didn't particularly care if they found her dead or alive. Goose bumps skated beneath the small hairs along her arms.

“What makes him think that?”

Jessie shrugged. “I don't think he's got anything substantial. It's just a feeling.”

And feelings were often more reliable than hard evidence—she'd learned that during her years as a cop. “And as the clairvoyant, what are your feelings?”

“That he could be right.”

“Then he should have talked to me, not arranged this all behind my back.”

“Would you have allowed him to arrange it?”

“No.”

“Which is probably why he didn't bother asking.”

True enough.
Sam smiled wryly and glanced at her watch. If she didn't get moving soon, she'd be horribly late for her appointment with O'Hearn. She sipped more of her coffee and said, “If I admit that I'm on to you, he'll simply replace you with someone I don't know, right?”

Jessie smiled, tucking several dark curls behind her ear. “Very likely.”

“Who else has he coerced into this?”

“My husband, Alain.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “Just the three of you? Doesn't he intend to sleep?”

“Obviously not. As I said, you mean more to him than he's willing to admit.”

She'd try to remember that the next time he was giving her hell over something stupid. “Next time you're on watch, why not give me a call? If I'm off-duty, we might as well be bored together.”

Jessie nodded. “Are you going to tell him you know?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” If Gabriel had the feeling Hopeworth was after her, she wasn't about to refuse any protection he offered, however covertly. And yet all roads seemed to be leading to that place, and if she wanted answers, then maybe her only real choice was, in the end, to allow herself to be taken by Hopeworth. It wasn't something she wanted to even contemplate, but it was nevertheless a reality.

“Good.” Jessie paused, green eyes suddenly intense. “Give me your hand.”

Sam frowned and didn't move. “Why?”

“Because I have an urge to do a reading.” She arched a dark eyebrow. “It doesn't hurt—unless, of course, you're afraid of what I might find.”

Which, of course, Sam was. What rational person wouldn't be? God, she had no past to speak of. Why on earth would she take the chance on knowing that there was no future, either?

How depressing would
that
be?

Though if she knew the future, then maybe she could change it. Surely such things weren't set in concrete but fluid, shifting according to the decisions she made?

She gulped down more coffee, then, after a slight hesitation, held out her hand. Jessie's fingers wrapped around hers, her touch warm.

Almost too warm.

Sam resisted the temptation to pull away and watched the other woman carefully. Though she'd often seen clairvoyants work the Brighton market near her old apartment, she'd never been tempted to get a reading done herself.

Jessie's face lost its animation, and her eyes were suddenly distant. “Do not trust the dream man. He tells no lies and yet speaks no truths.”

Dream man? Did she mean Joshua, or Joe? Both haunted her nights and her thoughts. But Sam held the question back, knowing that if she spoke, she might break Jessie's concentration.

“Do not fight the storm bond. It will save you when nothing else can.”

Again, a statement that only raised more questions. Jessie knew about her ability to siphon the power of the storms; she'd been at the warehouse when the storm's energy had helped her defeat Orrin and Rose, and save Gabriel's life. And yet, she had an odd feeling it was not
that
storm bond that Jessie was referring to.

“When Hopeworth tests, remember the dreams. Channel, as you did back then.”

Not
if,
but
when.
Gabriel's feeling about Hopeworth would obviously reach fruition, and trepidation danced a chill across her skin.

“Watch the man with the dead gray eyes. He is more than his makers believe. He beds the devil and walks the path of treason. He is our enemy, but not yours.”