Crash Morph: Gate Shifter Book Two (25 page)

“I became human long enough to find and remove the surveillance footage,” he explained, without looking up from the window.

“Jesus, Nik,” I said.

I trailed, not sure what to say to that, either.

Still, I couldn’t exactly be angry that he’d saved my ass that night. I’d guessed he was the reason that footage disappeared, of course. It had to be him...or Gantry.

Nik glanced at me with a frown.

I found myself thinking it was because I’d been thinking about Gantry, or maybe just because I’d thought Gantry’s name...but I couldn’t be sure of any of that, either.
 

Then again, I was still trying to pull my head together when it came to Nik in general. And yeah, trying even harder not to stare further at his body, which still happened to be entirely nude and didn’t look any worse now than it had a few minutes ago, when most of it had been laying on top of me. Forcing my eyes off him, I looked back out the window.

When I glanced at Irene, she was staring up at Nik’s face, wide-eyed, that wonder still visible in her eyes and expression. She still clutched one of Nik’s bare arms in both of her hands, too. I had an urge to tell her to let go of him, but suppressed it.

“So?” I said, hands on my hips, which were now more or less covered by the long shirt. “What happened to that footage exactly, Nik?”

“I gave it to Gantry,” Nik said at once.

“And?” I prompted again. “Is that it? Where else did you go as this eagle, Nik?”

“I went to see the bombing,” Nik said, as if that was the most logical answer in the world. “I watched and listened to Razmun and law enforcement talk while I was still in bird form. Once I’d located the surveillance footage, I took the form of one of the police officers with authority and asked for the materials for evidentiary purposes. I then transformed into a smaller mammal and hid the recordings in the sewers underneath the building so I could retrieve them later to give to Gantry. I thought they might be important.”

Glancing at me from the window, Nik shrugged.
 

“Once I had accomplished this,” he added. “I turned back into the sea bird and attempted to follow Razmun...to discover where he and the others are hiding.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Nik said, looking at me. Puzzlement crept over his features. “Why would I not do this? He gave me an opening, by being on that news program. It is far better for us to know where they are...and how close they are to finding us. I thought you agreed with this?”

I frowned, but I couldn’t really argue with him.

“And how close are they, Nik?” I said after a pause.

He sighed, giving me a somewhat frustrated look.

“I do not know. Well...not for certain.” That more distant veneer fell from his voice, and I found myself blinking at him, seeing glimpses of that more intense side of him I remembered from Palarine. “...I lost him before I could determine specifics about where they are hiding. I did see enough to narrow down possibilities,” he added after a pause. “Gantry has since helped me do some mapping of the relevant areas. It looks likely that their refuge is outside the main urban boundaries. I followed them on the highway for some time. I lost him there, too, but in looking, I found a dirt road I’d missed the first time, lined with trees. It is possible they turned there. At the end of that road, I found a set of structures on a piece of open land at the base of the large mountain you can see from the city. I showed Gantry the location on a map...”

“Mount Ranier?” Irene ventured.

Nik glanced at her, as if remembering she was there.

“Yes,” he said. “I believe that is what he said. The structures themselves looked old, and stood in a field near a large forest of trees. I saw animals there...and a small lake. But I lost Razmun himself, so I am operating on guesses. Still, it is possible they are there.”

Nik looked back out the window, his eyes once more scanning the trees.
 

“...It is also possible that those animals I saw were them,” he added. “But I do not think so.” Nik gave me a grim look. “I did not see any humans. Razmun and the others might have killed the previous occupants, if they are living there...I do not know. Most of the morph we arrived with would have remained together, however. I feel certain of this. Most would still be unable to transform very well. Gantry thinks perhaps they are in some kind of underground structure, or that they went down a different road, further down the highway. He also said that the location where they disappeared held many sites that might serve as encampments...with few human neighbors, and the potential to hide larger numbers, if needed.”

But my mind remained pretty one-tracked.

“Could he have seen you, Nik?” I said again. “Razmun?”

“No,” Nik replied.

He squinted back out the window, scanning the dark lawn filled with dandelions and crab grass in Irene’s unkempt backyard. I followed his eyes to a further line of trees, and a wooden picket fence that separated Irene’s yard from the one next door.
 

Nik’s expression had gone unreadable once more.

“No, I do not think so,” he repeated. “I do not think Razmun’s people were here tonight, in any case.”

“You don’t?” I said.

“No.” Nik shook his head, giving me a direct look. “They would have gone about this differently. They have no need to peer in windows at night.”

“You’re sure about that, Nik?”

“Somewhat sure, yes.”

I watched him stare out the window for a few beats more.

I gritted my teeth a little at his answer, though, annoyed that he’d started to pick up all of my qualifying adjectives while using English. Not sure what “somewhat sure” meant to Nik in this context, I decided to let that go, too.

For now, anyway.

At least until I got a chance to talk to Gantry.

I followed Nik’s eyes out into that dark, still trying to quell the nerves that vibrated my limbs. I couldn’t tell if I agreed with him or not, but what he said made sense. Why would a bunch of morph bother with peering in windows in the middle of the night when they could make themselves into birds like Nik and watch us come and go from a tree in broad daylight? For that matter, why wouldn’t they just grab us outright, once they knew where me and Nik were staying?

The thought made me feel a little sick.

Also a little guilty, when I glanced at Irene.

Even if Nik was right about it not being Razmun’s people out there, I didn’t feel particularly reassured, not if what Irene saw was real.

It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence, Irene having a peeping tom right now.

“No,” Nik agreed. “That seems highly unlikely.”

For a long moment, the three of us just stared out the window into the dark.

The only sound came from our breathing, along with the wind, which pulled the tree’s branches to lightly scratch paint off the outside of the house.

11

Refrigerator Politics & Old Places Revisited

I spent the next few days at the modeling agency.

Trying
not
to do field work...after getting chewed out yet again on that score by Gantry. Apparently he found out I’d been talking to those girls’ parents, and to her high school pals...and, yeah, to the manager of that hotel. And the cops.

And, okay, maybe technically all of that did constitute field work.

I just wasn’t used to being hobbled in my job like this.

Or having an overprotective ex-Marine hovering around, treating me like some kind of invalid. I could tell Gantry was genuinely worried about whoever those contractors were after my ass, so I tried to keep my temper in check...but it wasn’t easy. Gantry and I always got along well enough before, in part because he
didn’t
pull this kind of overbearing bullshit on me. I was beginning to think my being missing for nine months had done some kind of number on his head. Or maybe he knew more about those contractors than he was telling me.

I still managed to fill the days.

I even made some progress, just not fast enough for my tastes.
 

Most of that time got eaten up with me interviewing staff, along with a handful of models who had known or interacted with the missing girls, however briefly.

I also conducted a number of phone interviews, including with Mrs. Debra Fontaine, mother of Hilary and Marla Fontaine, who went missing the same time as Jazzy Jiāng.

Debra Fontaine was significantly less helpful than Mr. Jiāng had been.

She was also a lot more defensive and angry.

She basically said she wouldn’t talk to me or anyone else who wasn’t a real cop. Then she accused me of trying to bilk money out of her like some kind of ambulance chaser. When I explained I was working for Madame Culare already and that it wouldn’t cost her a dime to talk to me, she started yelling, practically accusing me of colluding with the kidnappers.

Then she hung up.

So yeah...not super helpful.

I managed to leave Jake at home most of those days I spent at Culare’s, which made it easier to slip in and out unnoticed, although several of the gazelle-like models asked about Jake on the days he wasn’t there and seemed peeved when I told them he wasn’t coming. Well, that was after they even recognized me without the make-up and stilettos and whatever else.

Still, it didn’t take them long to figure out who I was, make-up or no, which told me that my “super-secret disguise” really hadn’t been as effective as I’d hoped.
 

Then again, I’d already pretty much known that.

After all, Evers spotted me right off in the lobby that day.

Come to think of it, that still struck me as weird.

How
had
he spotted me so easily, given how I looked?

I brushed the thought from my mind a few minutes later.

Whatever the relative merits of my disguise, the models took a lot longer to recognize me than Evers had, but they did eventually...or some of them did, anyway. That, or Ms. Culare’s assistant told them who I was. The down-the-nose looks I got from a couple of those same models as I dressed more in my usual attire told me that Jake hadn’t been wrong about the clothing snobbery, either.

Still, I didn’t much care about my popularity in the fashion crowd.

Hell, this was Seattle. I was practically a fashionista compared to most people in this city. I wasn’t even wearing a hoodie today.

Ms. Culare herself wasn’t around at all that week, nor was she in the office on this particular morning. Her assistant, Clarice, told me her boss would be back by early afternoon, however, and that I could see her after one o’clock if I had any pressing business with her. Apparently Ms. Culare had been at some fashion show in New York, but she’d returned to Seattle the previous evening. From a few other comments Clarice dropped, likely on purpose, Ms. Culare hadn’t forgotten about me and was anxious to see me bring some resolution to the issue with the missing girls and the fake talent shows.

I thanked her for the info...even though I hadn’t asked for it...and Clarice led me to that same back room as per usual. She offered me coffee and cucumber water, as per usual. I’d spent most of the morning since that time going through client files and trying to figure out if there was anyone else here I wanted to talk to before I hit the pavement again.