Skin Tight (21 page)

He frowned. “Not at all. It’s sloppy.”

“But maybe they didn’t dump the body or kill that woman. Maybe she died as a result of—”

“Someone they experimented on,” he finished with a nod. “It makes sense. And now they’re trying to clean up the evidence. What are the chances her body will be there tomorrow?”

“I’d lay money on someone claiming her for a quiet burial.”

“Safe bet.”

“We need to figure out how to use this,” Mia said as she slid into the driver’s seat, and he found her use of the word
we
seductive. “That brand means something.”

“What made you check?” He was impressed she had.

“The guy mentioned a ring and a pendant. I thought her jewelry might’ve left a trace somewhere. I didn’t expect that.”

“If she was clutching the pendant—”

“Like a talisman.”

“—when she died, it would explain the burn pattern.”

Mia pulled out of the hospital parking lot. “Maybe the symbol has a protective meaning. I’ll check into it.”

“If we ID the victim, we can dig into her life, find out who she knew. Once we do that, we might be able to locate her attacker.”

“You think someone did that to her on purpose?”

He shrugged. “It’s possible. Maybe he took advantage of the chance to feel powerful. The abused often grow up to be abusers themselves.”

“Catching this guy isn’t your priority, though.” The chill of her tone drew his attention.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know what you are.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she said sadly. “You’re a shade, Søren. Nothing in the world is real to you anymore. Or maybe not a shade . . . a revenant.”

“A revenant.”

“It’s a creature from mythology that returns from the dead for revenge.”

Except for the returning from the dead part, that assessment sounded about right. “It’s just as well you know as much going in. There will be no misunderstandings.”

“No. There can’t be. I see you too clearly now.”

He turned to her, frowning. “What’s the matter?”

“You just examined the ravaged body of a young woman . . . and I saw nothing. No revulsion, no compassion. Nothing. All you can think about is finding the bastard who did it—and
not
to punish him, mind you—but in hopes he can lead you back to the ones who run Micor. You don’t care how much damage he does, whether this death was accidental or for the joy of it.”

With a burst of self loathing, he realized she was right. “Would it help if I said we’ll stop him when we find him?”

Mia didn’t answer. She kept her eyes fixed on the road, but in the gleam of passing headlights, he saw the telltale glimmer in her eyes. God, he didn’t want her hurt. Her heart wasn’t encased in ice like his. She didn’t have his layer of detachment, and he didn’t like seeing the monster he’d become reflected in her eyes.

As they reached her condo, she said quietly, “It would help if you weren’t saying so to appease me. It would help if you cared. Do you?”

When he couldn’t answer, she slid out of the car and walked off without looking back.

Mia analyzed the
data Søren had left on her laptop, and she was forced to agree with his conclusions. The four suspects she’d targeted were clean, which left her nowhere. If it wasn’t a matter of pride and a blotch on her record, she might give notice and move on. Micor stunk, and she felt dirty working for them.

But the woman in the morgue haunted her.

If she walked now, she’d feel like she was giving up on her. Somewhere, she might have a family who was worried about her. So at midnight, she was still searching on the Internet, trying to figure out what the symbol meant. Really, she needed a more sophisticated setup, where she could scan the sketch she’d made and look for matches that way. Unfortunately, she wasn’t running a portable crime lab.

Eyes gritty, she caught a few hours sleep, and then she headed off to work, where the tedium just might kill her. Greg was already waiting when she arrived, so bright-eyed that she figured he intended to stick her with a particularly boring project.

That intuition was borne out when he said, “I want you to generate a list—” Mia stared at her organizer, ostensibly taking notes, while she tuned him out. “Is that clear?”

“Absolutely,” she said.

“And you’ll have it on my desk by the end of the day?”

She drew a picture of a man with a knife in his head. “Of course. You can count on me, sir.”

At last, he left her desk and went back into his office. To appease him, she ran the search he’d requested—users with more than ten consecutive minutes of Internet access—and let it percolate. She’d print it later. Ordinarily, her time was her own when she worked an investigation, and she could go where she wanted, when she wanted. Belatedly, it occurred to Mia that rather than wanting discretion—which was a plausible motive—maybe someone on the board didn’t want her to succeed, thus her current situation.

By noon, she had a headache, and she was no closer to solving the problem. Mia was forced to confront the fact that she wasn’t motivated on this contract. She didn’t
want
to know who was stealing from Micor, because if they had that money back, they’d only use it for bad ends. Talk about a rock and a hard place.

All morning, she expected a phone call or an e-mail. She didn’t know how to feel about the silence. Maybe he was giving her time to regret marching off the night before. But who knew how a man like him operated? He might not give her a second thought. And maybe she shouldn’t give him one, either. If she’d learned anything over the years, it was that you couldn’t change someone. That metamorphosis had to come from within.

Just before she went to lunch, the lab tech—Kelly—came into IT, looking nervous. Everyone else was already gone. When she saw nobody but Mia in the room, the woman seemed to relax.

“Did you ever find your files?” Mia asked by way of greeting.

Kelly’s voice was hushed. “No. And more of my work has gone missing. I wondered if you could get me another log-in list for my username.”

She wondered if this could be tied into what Søren was investigating. So many little pieces, none seeming connected—it was enough to drive a logical person nuts.

“No problem. You’re lucky you caught me.” She input the commands and printed a list of times. “Is there some reason you didn’t put this request through channels?”

“I didn’t want it documented.”

Mia went to the printer and pulled the document. “You think something weird’s going on.”

“Are you kidding? Look around.”

She held up a hand. “We really shouldn’t talk here.”

The other woman’s face reflected startlement, and then she nodded slowly. “Maybe you’d like to come over for dinner tonight.”

“That would be better.”

 

 

Two hours later,
Mia followed Kelly out to her house. Maybe she was being paranoid; maybe she’d seen too many TV shows where corruption and conspiracy had some corporation acting like Big Brother. So it was surely better to be smart and safe. Mia parked her car in the drive and admired Kelly’s house. The stately Victorian nestled amid the trees, so pretty it could’ve been featured on a postcard. Mia took in the gingerbread trim, painted robin’s egg blue, and she had to smile. Based on what she knew of Kelly—little enough, admittedly—she wouldn’t have guessed the other woman had such a romantic streak. It was clear she’d put down roots in this little Virginia town, enough to buy this property and start restoring it.

Inside, everything was polished and elegant, burnished wood and handcarved moldings. Mia could tell the other woman had taken a lot of time and care picking out antiques to complement her restored home. They sat down to a dinner of salad and homemade quiche before resuming the prior conversation. Mia ate a little, wanting to seem social before she got right down to it. But she read tension in the other woman, despite the small talk.

Soon, asking the question became unavoidable. “So what were you trying to say before?”

Kelly put down her fork with a frown. “There’s no
reason
for this stuff to be classified. They’ve got me working on the effects of sugar on chimpanzees. When I branched off, researching viable sweetening alternatives, something they could use to make money, first my supervisor tells me to abandon what I’m doing and then my work gets sabotaged? Tell me that doesn’t stink.”

“You’re not supposed to be telling me this,” Mia guessed.

“No shit. But if they’ve got us doing busywork—”

“Then the real research must take place somewhere else.”

“You catch on quick. First I’m going to find out who’s been fucking with me, and then I’m going to bury this place. I have a goddamned degree in Biochemistry. I signed on believing I’d get to do real work here, not babysit monkeys.”

Mia had to warn her. “You might not want to do that.” “Why? Will I go missing like Noreen?”

“Who’s Noreen?”

“Nobody talks about her much, but from what I can gather, she had my job. One day, she just didn’t come to work. She hasn’t been seen in months.”

“Was she asking awkward questions, too?”

“I’m afraid to inquire,” Kelly said quietly.

“Do you have any idea who’s compromising your work?”

“Honestly, I think it’s my boss. I can’t stand the guy. He doesn’t seem to grasp that I get bored doing nothing all day.”

“Me, too,” Mia muttered, thinking of Greg. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You seem . . . disproportionately worried. Do you seriously think these assholes had something to do with Noreen’s vanishing act?”

Mia thought of the woman in the morgue. “You never know.”

“I promise,” Kelly said. “I’ll play it cool.”

That was really all she could do. She couldn’t tell Kelly more without revealing Søren’s secrets, and anyway, she had no proof. Mia knew that without evidence, the claim against Micor became just another unsubstantiated X-File. For her, there had been no lasting friendships since Kyra, but she recognized a budding friendship. It would suck if Kelly decided she was crazy.

“Do me a favor,” Mia said. “When we get back to work, don’t let anyone else run your log-in lists.”

Kelly nodded. “I wasn’t planning on it. But you’re seriously creeping me out.”

“Good. You’ll be safer that way.”

Darker topics exhausted for the moment, they chatted a bit about other things. She reasoned it would be rude to swallow her food whole and rush off, as if she couldn’t wait to get away. Mia learned Kelly was the youngest of five kids, and she had been the only one to go to college.

“My brothers think I’m nuts,” she confided, taking a bite of her quiche. “Two of them went into the military, one became a cop, and the other one is a mechanic.”

Mia tried to imagine what it would be like to have that many siblings. “Big family. So did they protect you or kick your ass?”

Kelly grinned. “A little of both, I guess. I swear they didn’t let me date until I left for college. And once, my brother Vince showed up at my dorm to see if I was behaving.”

“Which one is he?”

“Second oldest, the mechanic.”

Intrigued, Mia asked, “And the rest of them?”

“Well, I’m twenty-seven, the youngest, as I said. Brant comes next. He’s army. Then Jay . . . he’s the cop. Next is Vince, the mechanic. Lyle is the oldest, and he’s in the air force.”

“Ages?”

Kelly quirked a brow. “Are you taking a census?”

“No. I’m just . . . fascinated.” That was the right word. “I’m an only child, so I’m trying to form a mental picture of what it was like for you.”

“Chaotic. But okay: Brant, twenty-nine, Jay thirty-one, Vince thirty-four, Lyle, thirty-six.”

“Do they all live here in Virginia?”

Kelly laughed as she stood to clear the table. Dessert replaced the quiche and salad.

“Are you kidding? We’re spread out all over. Mom says it’s safer that way. But we get together at the holidays—Thanksgiving usually. Vince likes to ski over Christmas, so he’s usually in Vail.”

“It sounds like fun.” Belatedly, Mia realized she sounded a touch wistful.

The other woman paused in unwrapping a chocolate cup-cake. “What about you?”

“My dad’s dead. I don’t see my mom very much.”
Read: ever.

“And you said you’re an only. Damn, I hope you have some good friends.”

“I do.”

“Well, you know what they say—friends are the family of your heart.”

Mia smirked. “You should put that on a greeting card.”

“Maybe I will, smartass.” Kelly shook her head, then nodded at the plate between them. “And to think I was going to offer you one of these.”

“But not now? You’re a hard woman.”

She crammed half of the pastry into her mouth, speaking through the crumbs. “You said it, sister. My brothers learned fast not to get on the wrong side of me.”

“I bet.”

“This was fun,” Kelly said, as if surprised. “Maybe we could hang out again sometime?”

“Sure. We could watch movies or something. I make great popcorn.” She didn’t have the effortless ability to form connections with people. For Mia, it always felt awkward, as if she were emulating behavior she saw in other people. But with Kyra gone, she could use a friend more than ever.

They wrapped up the evening with some tentative plans. Mia went home to the cat and did not think about Søren at all. But she couldn’t control her dreams.