Immortal Distraction (8 page)

“I’m sorry, Brit. That couldn’t have been easy. How old were you?”

“Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. I did what I could to stay out of the system when she’d be arrested, but I was too young to take care of myself. I missed school all the time, ended up held back a year, and once the other kids caught on to what my mom did for a living, they tormented me.” Her voice was flat, controlled, but he could still hear the pain behind it. She tried so hard to hide it, but it was there. He guessed it drove the core of her being to some extent or another.

“You were incredibly strong to endure that and still thrive.” He wasn’t codling her, patronizing her, or even trying to work her over. It wasn’t the first time he’d glimpsed the hurt and vulnerable child that lurked inside her, and he truly was impressed that she’d managed to make so much of herself with the deck so harshly and unfairly stacked against her.

“I didn’t thrive at all. I was miserable. I struggled to keep up with schoolwork, and I nearly gave up more times than I can recall.”

“Sometimes thriving is just our ability to stay the course, no matter how difficult it is. You survived, Brit. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“I suppose.” She didn’t seem the least bit convinced of it. “But it sure didn’t feel like surviving, least of all thriving. I felt like I was drowning most of the time, and worse than that, no one would notice or even care if I did. I was just lost. Half of my being where I am today is sheer luck. I was at the right place at the right time. I met the right people. I got the right breaks…”

“And you developed the right attitude to keep you on course.”

“If you think I owe you an apology for being a bitch, you’re going to be waiting a long damn time.”

He chuckled at her easy defense. He hated it, but he understood it. “I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort. I can handle your attitude, Brit, though I admit I like it when you let it go for a bit. It’s not needed with me, but I’m guessing you would disagree with that.”

“You want, by your own admission, to disrupt my investigation. I’m not sure what you expect from me.” Her voice was quiet, confused even. She wasn’t being sarcastic; she was dead serious.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I wished we were on the same team. I don’t like that you don’t trust me, and I understand very well that I’ve given you every reason to distrust me. But regardless, it has nothing to do with my attraction to you. I can’t help that. It complicates things for me too.” This last came out as a mutter rather than a reassurance. “I’m not responsible for the deaths you’re investigating. I would never do that to someone. And I think you know that or at least suspect it on a gut level.” She said nothing as he spoke, but he could hear her quiet breathing on the other end. “I just want you.” And after a long pause, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And he hung up without another word.

Chapter 9

It was nearly four and she’d been pacing around her desk for the better part of fifteen minutes. Humphreys had been eyeballing her from his own desk the entire time, but he was blessedly staying quiet like he always did and like she preferred. Humphreys and Brit seldom worked in tandem, and aside from initial homicide responses, they usually divvied up the duties of an investigation. It wasn’t protocol, but they didn’t care. It worked for them.

“What the hell, Brit.” He was one person that got away with the casual address. “You’re wearing a damn path around the desk, and frankly, you’re annoying the shit out of me.” His voice was gruff and husky after years of chain-smoking Reds. He stunk like an ashtray, and on a good day when he actually did something, that stench was coupled with body odor. Blessedly this day had been a slow one for him.

Brit kept pacing, glaring at him, and chomping her gum loudly and nervously. She said nothing in response to his words and kept walking. Walking and chomping away as the minutes slowly ticked off. If his cigarettes were sitting out on his desk, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t imbibe just this once. But they weren’t sitting out. Humphreys took to glaring right back at her as she kept up her speed walking desk laps.

When her desk phone rang, she froze midlap and stared at it. She studied it as it rang while Humphreys glared with a look of disgust on his face. She was acting weird, and she damn well knew it.

“Yeah?” she snapped into the receiver when she finally got control of her limbs and picked it up.

“Uh… Hi, Detective Sutton. Your four o’clock is here for you, and the polygrapher’s already set up.

“Fine. I’ll be up in a minute.” She paced for another couple minutes, hating the nerves that were fluttering through her gut. After popping another stick of gum, she finally made her way to the front desk. When she rounded the corner, he was there. He looked oddly out of place. He was far too handsome, too pristine and perfect-looking for their sterile precinct.

“Hello, Brit.” His voice was purring out to her senses and left her blushing instantly as the desk clerk stared from one to the other of them.

“Detective.”

He smirked, never taking his eyes from hers. “Of course, Brit.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, wanting and trying to look away from him as he continued to study her. She failed and found her cheeks burning again. He had the uncanny ability to crawl right under her skin whenever she was in his presence. And she hated it. She hated it because she liked it.

“I’ll take you to the polygrapher. Follow me.” She turned from him and led the way down the adjoining corridor to the spare office the polygrapher used when he had business at their precinct.

Polygraph wasn’t something Brit preferred to use in an investigation. She couldn’t take it to court, and the DA would be furious if she even tried to pass it off as evidence. But Angus had offered, and she wasn’t willing to let that slide. He wasn’t her suspect, so there was little chance anything she gleaned from his polygraph would actually end up in court, but she wanted to see how he responded nonetheless.

He followed closely at her shoulder, and when they were halfway down the corridor, she felt his fingers run lightly down the back of her arm. She was wearing a gauzy, navy-blue, long-sleeve Henley with gray pinstripe slacks, and his touch was easily felt through the thin fabric of her shirt. She fought to control her reaction to his touch, and swallowing over a lump in her throat, she did her best to ignore him, but her body started trembling as she kept walking and warmth was radiating out from the place on the back of her upper arm that his fingers had just touched.

“How are you?” They weren’t alone in the corridor, but his voice was warm, seductive, and quiet as they walked.

“I’m fine.” And then she stopped and rounded toward him. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned that you’re getting ready to be polygraphed about a subject you’ve already admitted you know more about than you’ve been willing to divulge?” She was trying to throw him off his game, not exactly expecting it to work. It never worked with him, but she thought this of all things might warrant a reaction of some sort from him.

“There’s little that worries me, Brit.” And then winking at her, he continued, “Shall we?” And he strolled down the corridor away from her. She caught up to him and led the remainder of the way to the office. She’d already filled the polygrapher in on what she was trying to determine, and after introducing the two, she left them alone together in the office.

Michael Emerson was one of the best polygraphers in the city, and she trusted his abilities. It wouldn’t matter in court, but she knew whatever results he obtained would be as accurate as any. He was an older man with silver hair and a calm disposition. Brit took a seat on a bench in the hallway, intent on waiting until they finished, but after about fifteen minutes, Chief Childers found her and pulled her away for an update on the case.

There was little she could tell him, and when she mentioned she had a subject in polygraph, he appeared none too happy with her, especially given the fact she had no real evidence aside from a few random comments from Angus that he was obstructing her investigation. Her saving grace was the fact that Angus had offered to take the polygraph, and even that seemed only to calm Childers reservations slightly.

When Brit made her way back to the corridor, she found Michael strolling toward her with his equipment in tow and Angus strolling away from them both toward the front lobby. But when Brit met Mike, rather than stopping to speak with her, he waltzed right on by giving her nothing more than a casual greeting. She stalled in her confusion, turning to stare after him. “Wait, Mike…” He stopped and turned to her, smiling.

“Yes, Detective. Can I help you?” He was smiling and as friendly as always.

“Hey, Angus!” She called after him as he stopped, turned on his heel, and smirked back at her. When she looked from him to Mike in confusion, Angus waltzed casually toward them, never losing his smirk.

Brit turned back to Mike. “Well? I mean … the polygraph? Angus Scott?” She indicated Angus as he made his way toward them. Mike looked at her confused, and she matched his confusion with her own utter shock and perplexed expression.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you’re referring to?”

“What! Mike… I just introduced you to Angus. You were going to polygraph him.” She was still pointing to her cool, blue-eyed tormentor.

He glanced around perplexed, caught sight of Angus, and then gave her a quirky smile that suggested he thought she was far crazier than she thought he was. “I’m sorry, Brit, but I don’t know who this is or what you’re talking about. Are you okay?” She was starting to wonder…

“Well hello, Brit. If you don’t mind, I’m in a bit of hurry, and I really do need to get going.” Angus had just reached them, and he was looking at her with his inappropriately seductive expression, ignoring Mike entirely.

“Angus! You … and you… What the hell is going on?” She looked incredulously at them, and she felt like she was losing her mind. The men regarded each other, Mike still with his quirky look of confusion, and Angus with a cool, impassive expression. When Angus’ focus returned to her, he shrugged mildly, smirked at her and then winked as she gaped at him. Mike stood by slowly shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to make of Brit’s behavior.

“Mike, you were giving Angus a polygraph. I left to speak with the chief, and when I got back, he was leaving and you were too. Are you done already? Or…” She couldn’t stop shaking her head as her brain struggled to figure out what was happening.

“Detective, I don’t know Angus or what you think I was doing here, but…” Then he stopped cold and started looking around, and for the first time, he looked like maybe he was going crazy and he was realizing it for the first time. Brit just kept staring at the poor man, and Angus stood by casually if not amused. “What am I doing here?” Mike looked scared.

Angus reached a gentle hand to his arm and looked him dead in the eye with his cool, confident, blue gaze. “I’m sure you recall, Mike, you were going to polygraph me, but there was a problem…”

Relief washed over Mike’s face as he looked at Angus and understanding returned. “Yes. That’s right.” He was staring at the wall behind Angus, and he took his time collecting his thoughts before turning back to Brit, shaking his head and speaking again. “I’m sorry, Detective. I just … I’m not sure what happened there … uh … but yes. The equipment appears to be working correctly, but the readings didn’t make sense. No perspiration readings, heart-rate sensor was showing odd results. I can’t explain it really, but there must be something off on the calibration or … perhaps the sensors… I’m not sure, but we’ll have to reschedule.”

He quickly left them, still shaking his head. And when Mike was out of earshot, she glared at Angus. “What the hell did you do?” She was damn near yelling, and a number of bystanders stopped in their tracks and stared at her outburst.

“Why, Brit, I have no idea what you’re suggesting.” He was smiling at her, and she was suddenly gasping for breath. She didn’t understand what she’d just witnessed, but it brought her up short. She was either going crazy or … or what? What the hell had she just seen?

“You … did something to him. I know you did. What…?”

“I really do need to go. You’ll let me know when they reschedule the test?” And then he was gone. She stayed rooted to her spot on the floor watching him walk away from her down the hall. She suddenly felt as though she was seeing something impossible in front of her. The other officers and detectives that were walking down the hall somehow seemed to bend and move around him as though he was his own universe. It wasn’t really happening of course, but he was not like them. He was not like her. There was something so very inhuman about him, and there was no amount of studying or watching that would allow her to wrap her brain around what she’d seen, or what it all meant.

Her phone rang the moment she returned to her desk. The walk back from the first level was a haze. She’d stumbled through the halls, feeling so lost in thought that a time or two she had found herself in the wrong part of the building in some random corridor. She tried to figure it out, but there was no sorting through it. Mind control? Hypnosis? A damn concussion to poor Mike’s brain?

When she picked up, she was startled to hear Mike’s voice. He sounded nervous, or perhaps just confused. “Detective, I’m really sorry about what happened today, but I just can’t seem to figure it out myself. I … I…” And after a loud, steadying sigh, he continued, “I swear when we met in hall, I had no memory of that man, and then it was as if the memory was there or was back in my head again. I mean … the memory was back. I don’t… I don’t know what to say or how to explain it, but…” And then he trailed off.

“Mike, it’s okay. I’m sure it was nothing.” She wasn’t convinced of that at all, but what the hell was a person supposed to say when someone admitted something impossible happened to them. Truth was, she believed him. And it had something to do with Angus. She believed that as well.

“Well, beyond that, I analyzed my equipment when I returned to my office, and Brit … there’s nothing wrong with my polygraph. I mean, I got readings from him, but they don’t make any damn sense, and not because the polygraph was functioning improperly … because
he
was functioning improperly.”