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“Really?” Gabriel’s tone implied disbelief, even though the fear in the felon’s eyes suggested he was telling the truth. “Where were you supposed to take the body?”
“To a warehouse in Carlton.”
“Address?”
“Five-ten Rathdown Street.”
Footsteps sounded in the outer room, and the lights once again came on. Help had arrived. She half expected Gabriel to release his grip on the felon, but again, he went against the norm, tightening it instead.
“Time?” he continued flatly.
The morgue door opened, and five gray-suited men filed in, weapons at the ready. On seeing them, they holstered their guns and approached.
The felon gagged a little, struggling to breathe. “Ten … ten-thirty.”
“Thank you.” Releasing his grip, Gabriel pushed him into the arms of the nearest gray suit. “Detain these two for further questioning.”
Two other gray suits approached the unconscious man at her feet and unceremoniously dragged him away. Obviously, the SIU didn’t give a hoot about prisoner rights. Jack would have been right at home with these boys.
Her gaze darted back to Jack’s body and she bit her lip. This wasn’t Jack; she was sure of that much. A damn good imitation maybe, but not the real thing. Which begged the question, where was the real Jack? Was he alive, as her hairy visitor had said? And if this wasn’t Jack, then who the hell was it?
Gabriel walked around the drawer and touched her arm, his fingers like fire, sending heat past the thickness of her sweater, down into her chilled skin—and causing heat of an entirely different kind to flit across her senses. She frowned, and did her best to ignore the sensation.
“Langston, I want you and Reynolds to stay here and guard this body until I arrange for its transfer down to the SIU vaults. No one is to touch it, not even State.”
Sam glanced at him in surprise. His expression was grim.
“Come on,” he said, and tightened his grip on her arm, hauling her from the room.
“You came here to check whether this was really Jack, didn’t you?” he said, once they were clear of the room.
She nodded. There was no point in denying the obvious.
“And?”
“It’s not.” She hesitated. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” The elevator opened. He swiped his card and punched the button for sub-level twenty-eight. “What makes you so certain it’s not?”
“His lack of tan, a missing scar.” She hesitated. “The fact that he has no mark or indentation on his finger from his wedding ring.”
Indeed, that was the most telling. Jack’s love for Suzy was almost as obsessive as Suzy’s was for him. In the three years since his marriage, she’d never seen him take the ring off. Even if he’d lost it during the ten days he’d gone missing, there would have been a fading band of white on his finger.
She blinked suddenly. Suzy. Why had Suzy told the captain that she was having an affair with Jack? Suzy of all people would have been aware of the truth. She knew how little they saw of each other after hours, if only because Jack had spent all his spare time with her.
Unless, of course, she was involved in Jack’s schemes—whatever those schemes might be. Maybe the first person she should talk to when she got out of here was Suzy Kazdan.
“So who is lying in the morgue? Have you run a background check on him yet?”
“No need to.” Gabriel’s gaze met hers, the bright depths shadowed. Watchful. “It’s a clone, but one that’s undergone accelerated growth.”
She blinked. “How the hell could Jack have a clone? How is that even possible? I mean, I know cloning replacement body parts has been viable for a while, but a whole human being?”
“The whole being research has been up and running for a while, with varying degrees of success.”
“But why would Jack—” Her voice faded as she remembered again what her hirsute visitor had said. “He wanted to be officially declared dead.”
“More than likely,” Gabriel said, voice grim. “What tipped you off that it might not be the real Kazdan lying on that slab?”
