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“If you can convince her to oblige. She’s getting a little sick of being a guinea pig.”
Karl smiled thinly. “I think you’ll find that young woman has a desire to know the truth.”
When it came to her partner and what had happened to him, maybe. But when it came to herself, definitely not. She hadn’t asked why they were doing all these extra tests. She hadn’t shown even the slightest bit of curiosity. It was almost as if she didn’t care.
He straightened and returned his gaze to the kidnappers. “Will you need help with those four?”
“Harv and I can manage.” Karl hesitated, and again Gabriel noted the tension around his friend’s eyes. But before he could ask about it, Karl added, “You’d better get back before someone starts missing you.”
He nodded. “You going back to Stephan after this?”
“No. As I said before, it would raise suspicions in the wrong quarters.” Karl pulled a small bottle of pale green liquid from his pocket. “Give him this when you see him tonight, and make sure he gets some safe water. I won’t have a chance to get there until tomorrow.”
Gabriel held up the bottle. The green liquid was thick and shiny. “What is it?”
“A medicine designed to flush the toxins from his system. If we’ve pinpointed the right poison, it should work pretty fast.”
“How’s he doing? Health-wise, I mean.”
“He’s weak, but he’ll survive.”
Relief surged through him, relaxing muscles he hadn’t even realized were tense. “I’ll see you later tonight, then.”
Karl nodded and moved back toward the prisoners. Gabriel glanced at the license plate number of the car he’d been locked in, taking note of it for later investigation. He then called to his other shape and leapt skyward on brown-gold wings.
SAM CLIMBED OUT OF THE taxi and slammed the door shut. As the vehicle zoomed away in search of another fare, she stepped onto the pavement and stared at the house across the road.
Even on a relatively bright day like today, the squat, almost ugly, redbrick dwelling sat in shadow. Surrounded by tall gum trees, it hunched in the middle of the block like some forgotten troll. For some reason, Jack had loved it. Think of the possibilities, he’d said. All that land to expand on, all that room to move in.
Three and a half years later, the place was still as ugly as the day he’d bought it. Uglier, as it had also begun to fall into disrepair. And the land he kept raving about was a mass of weeds and rotting leaves.
The houses on either side had well-manicured lawns, perfectly trimmed garden beds and spotlessly clean driveways. But then, in an upper-middle-class suburb like Mulgrave, you expected nothing less. Jack had to be driving them insane.
Smiling slightly, she crossed the road. The minute she stepped into the shadows of the house, it was as if she’d stepped into another world. The everyday whine of cars, of people talking and dogs barking, faded away, leaving only an uneasy sort of hush. She glanced up, studying the branches far above. Odd that there were no birds in any of the trees. Even though it was winter, there should have been sparrows and starlings, at the very least.
She walked up the steps and knocked on the front door. Then she stepped back, waiting for an answer. After a minute or two of silence, she knocked again. She’d checked earlier to see if Suzy had gone back to work. She hadn’t, and she wasn’t expected to be back for at least another week.
Still no answer. Frowning, she turned and headed for the backyard. All the windows along the side of the house had their curtains drawn, so she couldn’t sneak a peek inside. The overgrown look had gone into overdrive around the back. Weeds climbed the fences and dominated the garden beds. She shook her head. It was hard to believe that Jack had let the yard get to this state. At work, he was practically a freak when it came to tidiness.
She knocked on the back door. Again, no answer. Of course, there was always the possibility Suzy had gone shopping or was visiting friends, but instinct told her that wasn’t the case. There was an edge of awareness in the stillness that suggested someone was home.
She bent down and slid the wire-thin key-coder out of its specially designed sheath inside her boot. Though they were officially frowned upon, a good half of the State enforcers used them. This particular one Jack had given her a few weeks before he’d disappeared, claiming it would open any lock currently in use. At the time, neither of them had thought she’d be using it to break into his house.
The coder beeped softly. She slid it back home in her boot, and then cautiously opened the door. The kitchen lay in darkness, and the air that rushed out to greet her was stale, as if the house had been locked up for several weeks.
She edged into the kitchen and looked around. Dishes lay in an untidy pile in the sink. Judging by the thick layer of scum on the surface of the water, they’d been there for some time. A half-filled coffee cup sat abandoned on the table, and one chair lay flat on its back, as if someone had gotten up in a hurry.
She moved into the next room. There were no other signs of a hasty abandonment, but it was obvious no one had been in the living room for some time. She walked across to the coffee table and picked up a newspaper. Dust stirred, tickling her throat. Coughing slightly, she studied the date on the paper. May sixteenth. Five days after Jack had disappeared.
If appearances were anything to go by, Suzy hadn’t been in the house since then. Yet that simply didn’t make sense. Surely she must have been here when Jack—or his clone—was shot. How else would headquarters have gotten hold of her so quickly?
Dropping the paper back on the coffee table, she turned and headed for the study. Dust lay thick on the furniture in this room, too. Two monitors sat abandoned on an otherwise bare desk. Several photos lined the walls—all of them of Suzy. Sam sat at the desk and opened the top drawer. Empty. So were the next two drawers.
Frowning, she stared at the monitor for a moment, wondering what to do next. Anything useful had obviously been cleaned out of the study, so there was a good chance every other room had been cleaned out, too. But the only other room that might hold something was the master bedroom. Even the tiniest scrap of paper might provide a clue, and while Jack was generally a neat freak, Suzy wasn’t.
She checked the remainder of the house as she made her way up the hall to the master bedroom. The place was empty, despite her feeling to the contrary. Relaxing a little, she allowed herself to remember the pride in Jack’s voice when he’d first guided her through his ugly-duckling house. Remembered his wonder at all the room, when all she’d seen was wasted space. Lord, they were so completely different. Maybe that was why they’d been such good partners. And such good friends, at least during working hours.
So why had he tried to kill her?
