Until It's You (21 page)

Her heart went to her throat. She turned back to Kevin. She could sense the same thing she knew Kevin sensed. Something was very wrong.

Back to the agents. She watched Roy disappear into the back door. The agents followed. Kevin went for his gun as they pulled away.

Landon stirred into action and grabbed Kevin's arm. “Stop,” he said.

“Those are not fucking FBI,” Kevin spat, his eyes wild. “I know it.”

He spun away and put his hands on his head. Kristina turned to Landon.

"Fuck!" Kevin screamed behind her.

She stepped back from him and looked up into Landon's face, her heart pounding. The blankness there scared her more than Kevin's anger. 

"You're sure this isn't Carter?" Kevin asked.

She pulled her comm out of her pocket. “I can check right now,” she said, her chest tight.

Landon shook his head beside her. “Wait,” he said quietly.

Kristina’s eyes narrowed, but she did as he asked, her comm screen on in her hand. “What?”

"Moonlight . . . it was a setup."

She stared at him for a second, then her eyes went to the sign on the building and she groaned. The same freaking name as the dealership. How dense were they?!

“He told me something in the car. Just now.”

She shook her head, still angry with herself. How had she not seen the sign coming in?

“What did he say?" she snapped.

If he noticed her tone, he didn't show it. “Just before you opened the door. He said to look at Bruman.”

Her eyes narrowed. She turned to Kevin, who seemed equally skeptical. “What do you mean? What did he say exactly?”

“We were sitting there while you and Kevin were talking. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride, as you know. Then he turned to me and said ‘you might look at the assistant. Bruman.’ That was it. A few seconds later the door opened and then the cars came in.”

Kristina shook her head. That
was
strange, but it didn't seem totally mind-shattering. Was this what was haunting him?

“So?" she asked. "He knew her name, big deal.”

Landon licked his lips, his eyes off in the distance. It seemed he couldn't even look at her.

“Have the FBI agent take her in,” he said, still not bringing his eyes to hers.

“To interrogation?”

His jaw flexed as he turned to her. “Yes.”

“Just based on this asshole’s tip? He's fucked us once already.”

“Yes." It was like he'd changed entirely in the last few minutes. Professional, intense Landon was back. "If it’s bogus, I’ll deal with it. Tell the agent I’ll talk to her too. Once she has Bruman.”

Kristina nodded and looked over at Kevin. He had gone dead still, watching the two of them.

"This some kind of betrayal situation?" he asked.

Landon took a deep breath, but said nothing.

Kevin shrugged. “Do it," he said. "And put it on speaker so we can hear.”

Still confused, she went into her previous calls and initiated a call to Agent Carter.

Carter answered quickly. “Kristina,” she said, sounding bright but harried in the way the forced cheerfulness of stimulant aeros provided. “Tell me you have something good.”

“Maybe," Kristina said, trying to keep her voice light. "Tatum is willing to talk. But only if you bring in his assistant. Jenna Bruman.”

Footsteps came over the speaker from Carter's end. Kristina imagined her rushing to her desk. “Bruman," Carter said. "That’s B-R-U-M-A-N, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Got it. Why her? Something good?”

Kristina looked at Landon, who shook his head. “Just a hunch for now," she said. "Tatum will explain more in-person.”

“I’ll need a warrant.”

She looked up at Tatum. He nodded, a grim look still on his face.

“So I need probable cause, Kristina." She sounded exasperated. "You know how this works.”

Landon stepped forward. “I will transmit a statement,” he said. His voice was strong. So strong, Kristina thought, that she realized he had to be really forcing it to stay that way.

A pause. “Is this Tatum?”

“You will receive a transmission of a sworn statement from my official account. The electronic signature will be verified. I am sure that should suffice.”

There was another silence on the other line. “Certainly,” Carter said finally. “Now can I get you in to have a chat? We have a few questions to ask.”

“Get Ms. Bruman in and I’ll answer anything you want.”

“Excellent. Is there anything else, Kristina?”

“One thing,” Kristina said. She was pretty sure she knew the answer to what she was about to ask, but it didn’t hurt anyway. “Are you having me followed?”

A pause on the other end. Kristina held her breath.

"No," Carter said, but her voice had gained an edge. "What happened?”

“So if I told you I just had some trouble with some guys saying they were FBI agents, that wouldn’t mean anything to you?”

“What kind of trouble?” Carter asked. "Same as the deal you told me about on Lakeshore Drive?"

“I don't know. Maybe.”

“Do you have any identification for the agents?”

Kevin nodded and pointed to the license plate of Landon’s car.

“A plate number for the vehicle they came in,” Kristina said tentatively. Kevin nodded. “I’ll message it over.”

She could practically hear the alarm bells ringing in Carter’s head. “Is this something I should be concerned about Kristina?”

Kristina bit her lip. “No,” she said honestly. “I doubt you’ll ever hear about it again, honestly. After the plate transmission, I mean.”

“We'll see about that. Now is
that
all?"

“That’s it,” Kristina said.

“Okay. I’ll get a request in for this warrant and have her in tonight. See you soon, Mr. Tatum.”

The call ended. Kristina looked between Landon and her brother. Kevin shook his head.

“We got fucked,” he said. “Plain and simple."

"I agree," Kristina said.

Kevin shook his head. "That message was bullshit. My fault."

She watched his eyes and saw he was looking at Landon, but Landon seemed totally disengaged in the conversation. She thought it was best she not explain to Kevin that she and Landon should have seen the setup a mile away too.

Kevin seemed to notice nothing more was forthcoming from Landon and shook his head. "Let’s get out of here," he said. He took out his comm. "Kristina, I’ll message the plate number to you so you can forward it along. Don't want her having my ID. Don't want her knowing I was here, actually. Let me know when you go in to talk.”

“Will do,” Kristina said.

“Good.” He took a look around. "I need to get Tom out of that safehouse. I doubt the bastard would go back for him after escaping, but you never know."

Kristina's heart sank. She'd forgotten about Tom again.

"Good call," she said lamely.

Kevin nodded, then turned and walked off, eventually getting into a silver car she hadn’t seen before. 

As he got in, she turned Landon. “What next?” she asked, still kicking herself for forgetting about Tom again.

He blinked and his face softened slightly. “I don’t know investigator, you tell me.”

“Well, we have to wait for the warrant," she said, putting her thoughts about Tom aside. "That could take hours. And you look like you could use a drink. Can you think of a place?”

His brows shot up. That, at least, had gotten something out of him. “I have something in mind,” he said, warming up. “Let me transmit this statement, then we go. I’m driving.”

He drove them east at first, across the city and toward the lake. Kristina sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window as everything flew by.

The business with Carter had been taken care of quickly and efficiently. From there he had wanted to get moving without wasting another minute. She followed his lead, sensitive to what he must be feeling.

By the sounds of it, this was like Anna betraying her. Trying to have her killed, maybe.

So she kept her mouth shut and gave him his space. The world melded into a thing without hard edges, its color swirls passing through her like the city air she breathed. She was there, but she stopped being there and drifted off into her own half-thinking, not quite a day dream and yet not quite fully awake either.

She didn't know where they were going, and she didn't ask. Landon seemed lost in thought again, so it probably wouldn't have done much good. It was nothing she particularly recognized, anyway.

This made it a surprise when she found they had come into the city, along the lake on Lakeshore Drive. The towering high-rises that looked out over Lake Michigan zipped by as they drove along the water's curve until she found them approaching the huge pile of buildings and humanity that was Chicago’s downtown. Cars zipping around with the tell-tale precise movements of auto-driver were all around them, darting between lanes. Then they turned off, back onto surface roads.

A few minutes later, Landon had pulled the car up to the valet of a building Kristina had never visited. It was inside Lincoln Park, sandwiched between a pond and a harbor in a well-kept up brown brick building from the previous century. Maybe even early the previous century.

The pair of them got out of the car. Landon waited for her as they came around the car, then led the way into the restaurant.

It was a classic spot, with old brick walls and weathered, but still well-maintained cedar floors. Clearly going for a vibe like an abandoned small-town train station that had been converted into a restaurant decades ago. The bones were still there, but everything had been cozied up a bit.

A hostess who did not ask them for their comms seated them quickly, outside and slightly to the north of the building. This gave them a view of both the pond and the harbor, with the lake beyond that. It wasn’t until they had their menus in hand and waters poured that Landon finally spoke.

"I think I'm going to clean it up," he said, his face a carved stone.

She shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

"Clean house. Hire a new inner circle and send the old one away with a nice severance package they can use to buy themselves a vacation home."

"Is that what you've been thinking about? After Roy gave you the tip about Bruman, I mean."

"The more I think about it, the more I realize that Ms. Bruman has been...slightly different, lately."

"For how long?"

"I don't know. Can't put my finger on it, really. Not quite. But a while. A few months, maybe." He sighed. "I don't know for sure."

"And if you have to lose Bruman, then . . ."

"Like I said, clean house. Let anyone in the C-Suite go. Yeah. If I'm already going to lose Ms. Bruman, I won't have a better chance to lose the rest, too."

He took a sip of water. She almost expected it to steam up at his lips. Every word had bite.

“Why do both of you always used ‘Mr.’ and ‘Ms.’ when talking about each other?" she asked, trying to keep him from dwelling. "It’s kind of weird.”

This, to her surprise, got a smile. “When I met Ms. Bruman, I was a twenty-two year old kid with a big money idea. Dr. Oliver set up a meeting at the Chop House in Hyde Park. She walked in all uptight, with her hair pulled back like an English schoolmistress or something. I tried calling her Jenna. You know, as a young adult trying to break into the real world kind of thing."

"What did she do?"

He laughed. "She told me I had no manners and left. Literally walked away."

"Walked away?"

"Straight up left the restaurant. Dr. Oliver had to chase after her and apologize."

"Did she come back?"

"She did. I had to apologize too."

"That sounds insane."

He licked his lips, shrugged. "At that point I pretty much wanted to tell her where to go. But she was good for the rest of the meeting...so detailed, so assured. I don't know. We ended up having a very good partnership. She steered me through a lot of early problems."

“And you never eased up on the formality?"

“It worked. Honestly, I don't think she would let me."

Kristina shook her head. This woman sounded insane, and Landon seemed kind of crazy for being so attached to her. “If she was so impressive, why didn’t she move on to something...bigger? No offense, but I have to imagine there are higher-paying jobs she could take.”

Landon shook his head. “She has an ownership share in the company. It’s not huge, but she’s very wealthy.”

“But not as wealthy as you.”

Another sip of water. “Not as wealthy as me.”

“Would she get a larger share if you were incapacitated?”

He considered briefly, then shook his head. “No. All that is wrapped up in charitable donations. I don’t think it could be changed.”

"I see." She bit her lip, decided to try a different tack. "Don't you worry about putting all these people out of work?"

Landon considered for a moment. "Who? You mean the executives?"

"Yeah."

"No. They will all be fine. Good recommendations, et cetera. It's nothing personal, except with Ms. Bruman."

"Then why fire them?"

He took a sip of water and looked out across the lake for a moment before he turned back to her. "Have you ever been camping?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. I'm a city girl and always have been."

One of his brows quirked up. "You never leave?"

She shrugged. "We didn't have any money growing up, so we never left the city except for taking a train out to the suburbs every once in a while."

"What about lately? You have to make a pretty good salary as a lead investigator."

"Anna and I were planning a trip to Puerto Rico in the winter," she said. "Haven't bought tickets yet, though."

"But that's it?"

This was kind of embarrassing. "I'm out in the suburbs a lot more now for work," she tried gamely. 

Landon held her gaze for half a second, then nodded and gave a small shrug as though the matter were dropped. "Okay, well, you'll just have to take my word on it then. The night sky when you're somewhere far away from city lights is amazing."

"You mean the stars?"

She might not leave the city much, but she had read about it and seen pictures. It did look pretty.

He nodded. "Yeah. There's so much there you don't see because it's drowned out. Living in the city you don't realize the light pollution."

"So you think you're missing something by having the same executives around you?" she asked, following the metaphor.

"Kind of. It's more like after a while I kind of realized you don't know how much of what you're seeing is changed by everything around you."

"
I
didn't realize you were such a deep thinker."

His brows went up, but he didn't smile. Kristina cringed inwardly. Hopefully he hadn't taken that
too
seriously.

"Anything look good?" he asked, motioning toward her menu.

She looked down at it, still cringing inwardly. Truth be told, she wasn't picky. "Anything you recommend?"

A waiter approached in a starched powder blue linen shirt tucked into slim white slacks. 

"I'll just pick some small plates," Landon said. "That sound good?"

She closed her menu. "Great."

The waiter came, and Landon took the initiative of ordering a bottle of wine—a Pinot Noir from 2029—and a smattering of small plates for them to share. He looked for confirmation to Kristina as he was ordering, but she said nothing.

Once the waiter left, Landon looked to the lake quietly. He seemed to be gathering himself again. When he turned back to her, there was a storm just beneath the surface of his eyes.

“My guess is he was sizing me up," he said suddenly. "Found a moment of giving in, once we gave it to him. He knew he would only have one shot."

"Must have been pretty good to fool Kevin too."

Landon took a deep breath. "He could have been a hell of a salesman if he can read a room like that. Instead he's a thug. Crazy how life works. . ."

“So if we’d had the real FBI there...” she trailed off.

He rubbed his eyes. “My guess is shootout, but who knows. Ask your brother.”

“I'd rather not. I can't believe he got away with
Moonlight
, though.”

Landon sighed. "I know."

The waiter came with their wine. Landon inspected the label and nodded. A taste was poured. That too was satisfactory and so both their glasses were filled up to an appropriate level. Once the waiter was gone, Landon took a sip and seemed to savor it.

Kristina did the same. The wine's dry, spicy flavor danced across her palate and made her all the more aware of how hungry she was. 

“It’s a strange thing about that guy,” Landon said, after they had sat in silence for a moment. “He was a lot sharper than I imagined. An asshole, but I kind of liked him.”

She put her glass down. “Really? Why?”

“I’ve learned to respect someone who can beat me like that. And there was something about his worldview. Like he was immune to delusions that things were different from the reality around him.”

“What?”

“He was angry, but not blinded by it. And he didn’t seem fazed by all the intimidation Kevin threw his way.” Landon shook his head. “First thing that seemed like it got to him was the threat of Phobos. But even that was an act, if I'm right.”

"You seem to be putting a lot of stock into intuitive impressions of people lately."

"It's the only way you can understand people, I think. Anything past that is just trying to justify your impression. People are too complicated to break down rationally in any useful way beyond the most basic things."

"First impressions can be deceiving."

"They can. But I didn't say first impressions. I said intuitive impressions."

"Anyone can be wrong about people," she said. "Even if you’ve known them for a while."

"People can always be wrong. But I'd rather be wrong about what I really, truly think about someone than an opinion I convinced myself I have."

"Have you convinced yourself about your opinions on your current executives?"

"I don't know anymore. That's kind of the problem."

She swirled the wine in her glass. "This is confusing."

Landon's dark eyes danced. "It is. But I know for sure that the way people affect the way you see them is more complicated than anything else I can think of."

The first pair of their small plates came then. Two perfectly seared sea scallops with a spicy mustard sauce, and then two mini elk sliders with caramelized onions and a rich aioli. Her mouth watered.

"Still confusing," she said, once the waiter had left. "But I'll agree with you on people being complicated."

They devoured the food, both because they were starving and because they were on auto-pilot after the adrenaline rush of what had happened earlier. That adrenaline had been keeping her upright until she noticed it, and now she was giving her body the fuel it craved.

There was a break while they waited for their next dish. As she sat and thought about how wonderful her stomach felt, her mind drifted to what Landon had said. For his part, he'd been quiet since the food arrived.

"You seem to think a lot about whether you're seeing things clearly," she said.

He stirred as if from a daydream and nodded. "I guess that's right."

"But you, I don't know . . ."

"Made a fortune off of changing the way people see things?"

"Well, yeah."

"Yeah, Roy mentioned that too."

A lump came up in her throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's okay. You're not wrong."

"But?"

He came alive and leaned closer toward her, his eyes alert. This was something he cared about. "So, we basically make two kinds of pharms. Just like everyone. Pharms that treat the cause of a condition, and pharms that treat the symptoms."

"That makes sense."

"The first one," he continued. "Obviously no problem. They do some of the most important and life-saving work in the medical world. But the second? I mean, I guess I rationalize it a little bit. But it's really not that different from selling liquor, or coffee, or even advertising or movies."

"Booze and coffee I get, but advertising? Movies?"

Landon shrugged. "All of them are about creating a reaction in people's brains. When you see a horror movie, aren't you trying to make your brain feel fear? When you see a romance, aren't you hoping to be moved? We take a more direct route, sure. But the effects are very similar."