Generation 18: The Spook Squad 2 (14 page)

“Izzy, who performed the autopsies?”

“Warren Michaels.”

“Get him on vid for me.”

Izzy tapped her foot for several seconds, then disappeared, replaced by a dark-haired man in his mid-forties.

“Agent Ryan,” Warren Michaels said. “What can I do for you?”

“You handled the serial killer autopsies, didn’t you?”

“Yep. Why?”

“I just found out that all of them were being prescribed Jadrone. Would you have any idea why?”

Michaels frowned and scratched his shadowed chin. “If they were taking it, I found no evidence of it.”

“So I read. And yet all of them had been prescribed the drug since puberty, from what I can gather.”

“I can’t see why. They weren’t shifters.” He hesitated and frowned. “There was an unknown substance in their toxicology results, one we haven’t been able to pin down. And I did notice severe bone degradation in both Maxwell and Jakes.”

“Is it usual to be unable to identify substances?”

“No, not unless it’s something new to the market. We’re still searching, and may yet match it.”

Then she’d keep her fingers crossed for a result. “What sort of degradation was there? And how might it be connected to Jadrone?”

“Shifting puts severe stress on the body’s organs, particularly bone and muscle. As the shifter gets older, the bone and muscles become less pliant, more brittle. Arthritis and other associated diseases become a real problem. In a shifter, this doesn’t normally happen until they are well into the mid–one-fifties, one-sixties. Even in humans, it doesn’t normally happen until your late sixties.” He paused. “Jadrone was administered to shifters to keep the pain at bay and slow degradation.”

“Is there a history of this sort of degeneration in either Jakes’s or Maxwell’s family?”

“That we don’t know.”

She frowned. “Why?”

Michaels snorted. “They were adopted, the same as Burns and Brandon. Don’t you read follow-up reports?”

The edge of derision in his voice stung. “Obviously not.” Nor had Gabriel mentioned that fact. “Let’s presume there’s no history of this in their background. What else might be the cause?”

Michaels shrugged. “Random chance? It happens. Kids as young as five get arthritis, you know.”

Yeah, but their killer wasn’t attacking kids as young as five. There was some sort of pattern here, but one they couldn’t quite see yet. “What about the other two?”

“Minor degradation. A little more than what you’d expect for their age, but nothing extreme.”

“Did you do a cellular analysis on the four?”

“No need to. They were human.”

“Then do it. And tell me what you find.”

Michaels raised his eyebrows. “By whose authority are you ordering this?”

“Assistant Director Stern’s.” She looked up as the man in question stepped into her office. He raised an eyebrow and walked the two steps over to the desk.

“Sorry, Agent Ryan,” Michaels was saying, “I can’t order that sort of investigation without permission from the man himself.”

Gabriel placed a hand on the back of her chair, his face close to hers as he stared at the com-screen. “Then you have it, Michaels. Please proceed.”

Michaels nodded and signed off, and Gabriel sat back on the edge of her desk. “What did I just authorize?”

“A cellular analysis on our four victims.”

He crossed his arms and regarded her for a minute. The intensity of his gaze made her want to squirm like some errant ten-year-old facing a headmaster. And that, more than anything, annoyed the hell out of her. What was it about this man that got to her so easily?

“Really? Why?”

She tilted her chair back, her knee brushing against his and sending warmth surging across her flesh. But he didn’t move, so nor did she. “All four were being prescribed Jadrone, and yet they were not on record as being shifters.”

“Jadrone has no effect on humans.”

“Exactly. And yet Maxwell was a junkie who got high on it regularly, and he and the others had been prescribed it since their teens. I think we need to find out why.”

He frowned. “I agree. But there was no mention of Jadrone being found in their systems.”

“Which makes me wonder why—especially with Maxwell. He was a junkie for years, and had severe bone degradation. It’s unclear whether the Jadrone is at fault or something else.”

“Are you doing a trace on the prescribing doctor?”

“Izzy’s handling it now. Why didn’t you mention that all four victims were adopted?”

“Why were you going through the files? You’re supposed to be handling the kite murders.”

“And the kite murders might well be connected to these murders.” She studied him for a moment, then added, “You can’t have it both ways, chum. Either you allow me to do my job properly, letting me follow all leads, or you confine me to this little box and the inane paperwork you keep dredging up, and get someone else to do the investigating.”

“You’ll do what I tell you to do. And right now, that’s investigating the kite murders—nothing more, nothing less.”

His face was remote, his eyes cold. She felt like strangling him. God, the man was aggravating! As he no doubt intended.

“Why are you here, Assistant Director? Planning to leave me another nice note, were you?”

His arms flexed, as if he were clenching his fists. “You left the safe house more than an hour ago. Where the hell were you?”

“Having coffee with a friend.”

“You don’t have any friends.”

“Obviously not.” An edge of bitterness crept into her voice. She took a deep breath and crossed her legs. Warmth still tingled where their knees had touched and she scratched at it irritably.

“That’s not…” Gabriel looked away from her gaze. “Next time, report in first.”

“Yes, sir.” This time she resisted the urge to salute.

His anger still washed over her, and she shuddered and leaned back, trying to get some fresh air.

Concern flitted briefly through his hazel eyes. “You okay?”

“Yes. Fine.” She rubbed her forehead briefly. She really had to go see a doctor. Not only about the headache, but the weird sensations that kept washing over her.

Izzy chose that moment to reappear. “You have a five-fifteen appointment with the animal quack, sweetness.”

“Thanks, Izzy.”

Gabriel gave her com-unit a somewhat disgusted look. But then, he wasn’t into cartoons. Or com-units with character. “You’re visiting a vet? Why?”

“My dog’s sick.” She’d be damned if she’d tell him the truth. He’d probably go interview the vet himself and leave her here in this shoe box doing another inane task.

“You don’t have a dog.”

“I will tonight.”

He studied her thoughtfully. “The cross-check came up with her name, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed her forehead again and waited for the axe to fall.

He was silent for a few seconds. Then he sighed and rested his palms on the desk. “When are you going to see a doctor about that headache of yours?”

Consideration when she’d expected an axe was definitely cause to be wary. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve had that headache for the last few days. I think it’s time you got it checked out.”

“I will.” She barely kept her irritation in check. Lord, it was bad enough that he was ordering her around at work. Now he was trying to run her private life, as well?

“When?”

“Soon.”

Gabriel shook his head and looked at the com-unit. “Izzy, make an appointment for Sam with Dr. O’Hearn at the Collins Street clinic.”

“Sorry, sweetie, but you’re not the boss in this shoe box.”

Surprise and annoyance flitted across Gabriel’s features and Sam smothered her laugh. She would have hugged the cyber character if she could have. “Who’s Dr. O’Hearn? SIU employed?” If he was, she was staying well away. An SIU doctor meant Gabriel could access her records, and he knew more than enough about her already.

He shook his head. “No, but she collaborates with both the Federation and the SIU. She’s a specialist in nonhuman medicine.”

Sam snorted softly. “So you could get access to my medical files?”

“Not with Dr. O’Hearn, I can’t. She’s a total stickler when it comes to patient confidentiality.”

“Then why are you sending me to her?”

“Because she’s not only the best, she’s also the only one who might truly be able to help you.”

Because they didn’t know what was she was, other than the fact that she was not entirely human. She glanced at the boa-twirling fuzz-ball. “Do it, Izzy.”

“Right away, darlin’.”

“Tell Dr. O’Hearn I recommended you. She’ll forward the bill to the Federation.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a part of the Federation.”

He crossed his arms. “You could be, if you wanted to.”

“What’s this, a recruitment attempt?” And why now, a good month after she’d found out about the Federation?

He shrugged. “No. Just something for you to think about.”

“Why? I don’t know a thing about the Federation, apart from what you’ve told me.”

“I’ve already told you the important stuff.”

“You gave me a brief background. That’s hardly the same as knowing their current goals.”

He shrugged. “If you’re interested, let me know.”

She considered him for a moment. His face, as ever, was neutral. It was hard to judge whether he was actually serious or not. “I thought you were trying to get me out of your life.”

His smile seemed almost bitter. “I don’t want you out of my life—quite the opposite, in fact. I just don’t want you as a partner. It’s nothing personal.”

Yes, it was—at least to her. And if he did want her in his life, then what role would she be playing if not a partner? A friend? It certainly couldn’t be as a lover—not if his determined lack of reaction to her physically was anything to go by. Or was he merely reacting that way because she
was
his partner? Did he perhaps believe in not combining work and play? Or had he, she thought, remembering his first partner had been a woman, tried it once, and sworn never to do it again after losing her?
That
was most certainly the answer, though why she was so certain she couldn’t say. It was just a conviction she felt deep inside.

She just wished he’d trust her enough to confide in her. Maybe then she could make him see how stupid he was being. But until he said something, she couldn’t.

Izzy twirled onto the com-screen. “There’s a call from a General Frank Lloyd on vid-screen. You want to take it?”

Sam glanced at Gabriel. He slid off the desk and stood near her chair—close enough to see the screen but out of direct line of sight.

“Patch it through, Izzy.”

General Frank Lloyd came onscreen. “Agent Ryan, I presume?” His voice, like his appearance, was powerful.

She nodded. “What can I do for you, General?”

“I need to know why you have requested information on these thirteen people before we can go any further.”

“We have a number of murder victims that may be linked with Hopeworth. They’re certainly linked with an Emma Pierce, who worked at Hopeworth for a number of years. In fact, Emma Pierce may be the mother of at least two of the victims.”

The general’s sharp blue gaze narrowed slightly. “I see.” He rested his elbows on the desk in front of him, fingers interlaced. “I’ll be in the city this evening, attending the opera. Perhaps we could meet afterward?”

Gabriel grabbed a pen and paper, quickly scribbling. She glanced at it. “I’ve heard there’s a very good restaurant in the South Bank—Han’s, I believe it’s called. Shall I make the reservations?”

“Around eleven should be suitable.”

She nodded. “See you then, General.”

The screen went dead.

“Well, well,” Gabriel murmured. “A call from a general, no less. Your request for information certainly raised a few alarms.”

“Have you heard of the general before?”

“No. But a Dr. Frank Lloyd attended the birth of both Raylea Burns and Anna Jakes.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “The same man, you think?”

“It’s too much of a coincidence, otherwise.”

“Why meet at a restaurant? Why not at Hopeworth? Or even here?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Neutral territory, perhaps? I doubt they’d let us near Hopeworth, anyway. The place has a level-ten security clearance.”

Which meant top of the tree. Not even Stephan’s autocratic Byrne persona would get in there.

“I gather you intend coming with me tonight?”

“Yes. I’ll contact Han and arrange for us to be in the Dragon Room.” He hesitated. “The restaurant is quite upmarket. Nothing casual allowed, I’m afraid.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The last time I was there, I was dressed decidedly casual.”

“Yes, but Han’s wasn’t officially open.” He hesitated, then looked away. “I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

“It’s a date, Assistant Director.”

He flashed her a grim look, and she smiled and watched him walk from the room. Sometimes, he was extraordinarily easy to rattle.

And that, just maybe, should be her line of attack. Damn it, there was something between them, and he had to be aware of it. Rather than sit back and wait for him to make a move, as she usually did when it came to men, maybe she needed to take the reins and lead the way. The worst that could happen was that he’d say no.

And as he was already doing that in other areas, what was one more rejection?

“Izzy, do a search through the personnel files. I need to find an agent who has a dog or a cat in need of vaccination shots that I can borrow.”

“Searching now, sugar.”

Good
. Her next major worry was finding an outfit to wear tonight. Something subtle but stunning. She might not be able to stop Gabriel from thrusting her from his life—be it professional or personal—but she sure as hell could make him regret it.

Tall, curvaceous blondes weren’t the only ones who could look like sex on legs.

Sam grabbed the box restraining the growling cat and climbed out of the car. Heat tingled across her skin, standing the small hairs at the back of her neck on end. Then her senses exploded outward, tasting the secrets within the clinic.

There was a woman inside who was not only a changer, but one who somehow felt unclean. And
not
in the unwashed sense.