Synth, p.35
Synth, page 35
“It’s the most I’ll ever get from him,” I said. “But that doesn’t matter – I’ll do whatever he asks because I need to keep this job. Besides, it’s still helping those girls, and that case needs as much help as it can get if there’s to be any chance of solving it before Vogle yanks it back. But that just means that I’ll be at Hakim’s beck and call again twenty-four hours a night and working well into the day. I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to come out here with you while doing that and making the supply runs, so you need to know how to change these.”
Not that the supply runs were taking as long as they usually did…
I frowned behind my visor, trying to convince myself that Warren not showing up to the drop I’d made yesterday wasn’t indicative of a bigger problem and that his short, blunt text messages meant nothing. He had every right not to trust Hawthorne immediately, and it was fair for him to be skeptical. He was also busy. We were running out of days to figure this out, and he probably didn’t have time to talk and meet me at the cave.
My frown deepened as I detached the current hard drive and showed Hawthorne how to reconnect the new one and reset the sensor.
I desperately hoped that was the case, but I couldn’t help but worry about the uncomfortable shift in dynamic. We had been busy before, but he had found time to meet me. Whereas yesterday, he hadn’t even responded when I’d told him I was headed out to make the drop. I’d arrived to find the cave empty and reluctantly left the bag after texting Warren again to ask him if he was coming. He had responded with two simple letters:
A: No.
I’d thought about asking him why, but in the end, I’d just decided to leave. I genuinely didn’t have time to linger and wait. Hawthorne was coming by so I could give him a full rundown of the mission, and I needed to stop and grab some groceries. Otherwise, I was going to wind up in serious trouble.
I let out a quiet sigh, securing the hard drive in the plastic bag to prevent it from getting covered in mud before tucking it into my small gear bag. Then I led Hawthorne back to the ditch and deeper into the mud. The crawl was long, and about ten minutes into it, the sky darkened and it began to rain. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it would wash away our tracks and possibly some of the mud from our clothes before we got back to my car.
I tried not to think about Warren as Hawthorne and I spent the rest of the day in the “stink pit” and surrounding tall grass surveying the warehouses, but it was a struggle. I wondered if he would be there on Wednesday when I made the next drop. I wondered if he would write me back this evening when I texted him to tell him our findings. I wondered if his sister had tried any of her new baking supplies or if his allies in the north had found anything useful that could help us pin down a precise date. Then I wondered if we would talk again, properly, like we had before, and if the horrible mounting pressure in my chest would ever go away.
But as my clothes soaked through and grew heavier by the hour, my heart felt like it was sinking into the mud beneath me, and I found myself wondering if I had made a huge mistake that would jeopardize everything.
Thursday, October 22
3:40 pm
Warren wasn’t there on Wednesday when I dropped off the supplies. His texts had remained short, blunt, and bordering on rude. I felt like I had fallen back in time, starting at the beginning with our slate wiped clean and all of our progress lost.
And I didn’t understand why.
I’d thought we had genuinely taken steps. That he trusted me now, trusted my judgement, and believed that I was on his side. That I would never do anything to threaten the success of our mission or his people, and that I took what we were doing seriously. I thought of him as my friend because things between us had changed.
They had become… different.
I knew Warren inherently didn’t trust Reborns, but I thought he had trusted me. I knew bringing Hawthorne on board could be a mistake, but it didn’t feel like it. He had already covered my surveillance two days in a row while I worked to close out the Dolan case and hand it over to Precinct 15. He helped me comb through more surveillance footage from the docks, switched his patrol route over to one on the southeast end, where he spent most of his shift circling as close to the warehouses as possible from city streets, and he had gained us valuable insight into the regular night traffic. Not to mention that he’d caught wind of another protest being organized—a big one—and he was planning to meet up with his contact from the human rights group to ask her about it so we could make sure that it didn’t interfere with our work.
His help was invaluable.
We were covering twice as much ground, and I didn’t understand how any of that could be a bad thing or how Warren could be so angry about it, especially since I had asked Warren if his involvement was okay. Orion had met Hawthorne and approved it. If they didn’t want more help from Reborn or didn’t trust Hawthorne to be loyal, why had they agreed to accept it?
I let out a quiet sigh.
Maybe Warren hadn’t liked the idea, but his father had overruled him…
“Did you ever manage to find out who’s running Natasha Lionetti’s business on the night-to-night?”
I glanced up at Hawthorne. He was sitting at the other end of the table, a mess of papers sprawled out between us. It was becoming an increasingly common sight, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. On the one hand, it was a bit too familiar and personal for my liking, having him at my apartment nearly every day this past week, touching my stuff and using my bathroom. But on the other hand, it was nice. I felt less alone, and when we worked here at the table, it reminded me of our time back in the Academy when we used to study together at the library. Back when things were much simpler.
“From what I can tell, she’s the one running it,” I said, dropping my head into my hand.
Looking back on how busy this week had been, I knew I wouldn’t have made it this far without Hawthorne’s help. He had already ruled out another two warehouses because they seemed to be getting regular shipments from Cypher, a legitimate electronics company, and from what Hawthorne could tell, the buildings were packed.
“I ran a few plates from the cars I see most often down near her docks,” I continued. “One I tracked headed to her house. The name Sokolov came up, but I haven’t been able to narrow it down any further than that.”
“No first name?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Which, if this were real CPD work, would be grounds enough to pull the cars over, bring the drivers in for questioning, and open an investigation. But that’s not our situation, so despite it being illegal to register cars without an address or first name, I can’t do anything with it.”
“Right,” Hawthorne sighed and sat back in his seat. “I feel like my hands are tied behind my back here.”
“Tell me about it,” I groaned. “And it’s just more of the same at her warehouses – regular security dock patrols, Crosswell Transport trucks shipping products from multiple reputable companies, fork trucks coming and going, the cars of the employees working in the offices, and vans from Jensen’s Janitorial, Andy’s Repair Services, and Proctor Delivery – none of which tie back to her.”
I let out a sigh, dropping my eyes back to the map of the docks I had been staring at for the last several minutes while trying and failing to find some sort of answer.
We still had over ten warehouses to examine, and I was doing my best to be strategic about selecting the next two to look at. I was trying to find a pattern, something to hint that one warehouse might be more likely than the other, because every time we went down there, we put ourselves at risk of being caught. We were running out of time, and the faster we narrowed this down the better.
But for every advantage I thought I saw, there were disadvantages for each warehouse based on their location, security, and the traffic data from the sensor, and I had no idea where to look next. If these were smaller warehouses, it wouldn’t be such a problem. If we could get closer to them or access them via the main road without crawling through a ditch after running kilometres down a nature path and clambering down a hill, it would be easier.
But we couldn’t, and some of these warehouses were the size of several small city blocks.
“I wish I could consult Hakim,” I muttered, and Hawthorne snorted at my words. “He always sees patterns that I don’t.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that would go over swimmingly,” Hawthorne said, standing from his seat to stretch as I glowered at his choice words. “How have things been going with him this week?”
“Fine,” I sighed, leaning back in my seat to look at him. “So far, at least, but I’m still not back to working with him on the Jane Doe files fully. The Dolan case is set to close tomorrow. I already cleared the sensors at the second site and handed the files over to 15. I just have to go collect the equipment at the first farm tonight and bring it back. He had me scour through a few hours of traffic footage the other night to try to find something to tie Andrew Morin to the latest body and run some new plates while he canvassed the areas where previous bodies were found to see if any locals saw anything, but nothing came of it. We’ll see how things go next week when I’m back to shadowing him one hundred percent.”
“That sounds exhausting already.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But it’s worth it.”
“How are you going to handle the missing gear?” Hawthorne asked. “Or do you need me to pull the sensor by the docks so you can return it?”
“I already handled it,” I said. “Told Hakim it was missing and blamed it on some non-existent animal.”
“Perfect. What about the extra hard drive Aries has?”
I tried my best not to physically react to Warren’s name, but I could feel my body tense. Hawthorne had questioned me about what had happened the night they’d met, and I had dodged answering it the best I could. I’d blamed Warren’s cold, detached behaviour on the apprehension from the others in the cave, but I wasn’t sure if he’d bought it.
“I’ll say it went missing tomorrow when I turn in the gear.”
“Won’t he be mad?”
“Maybe,” I said. “But we need it.”
Friday, October 23
7:15 am
Water trailed down the back of my neck under the collar of my standard-issue shirt. It didn’t matter that I had worn my waterproof jacket on top of my vest. Downpours like that, the ones Carneth got during the rainy season, soak you to the bone regardless of what you’re wearing. They eat through your clothing like moths, finding even the tiniest seam in your armour, then slithering in through the cracks, saturating everything, leaving it soggy, heavy, and cold.
The wind hadn’t helped much, and neither had the trees. The downpour had pierced through the branches, sheets of water blasting me from all sides as I ran through the woods collecting sensors. It had taken me all night. Warren had ignored my message about meeting up while I collected them, but honestly, it was probably for the best. He might have gotten lost or washed away in the rain. The only good thing that had come of it was that I’d stolen another sensor set because I knew I would easily be able to blame the missing equipment on the weather. It was currently in the trunk of my car, carefully tucked beneath the felt fabric that lined the interior and covered the spare tire.
I wasn’t expecting anyone to search my vehicle, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry.
I readjusted the strap of the equipment bag Hakim had given me, the sensors shuffling inside the black canvas, as my eyes watched the dim glow above the elevator door. I had returned Dolan’s equipment directly to Jonathan before leaving, so after dropping off these, I could head back to the boardroom and spend another few hours assisting Hakim and crawling through more footage.
I wasn’t looking forward to it. I was tired and worried about the warehouse and Warren’s detached and unwelcoming behaviour.
I let out a quiet sigh as the impossibly slow elevator finally stopped and the doors opened with a groan. Night shift was still out, so the second floor wasn’t very busy as I made my way down the hall toward the cage. I got a few looks from bypassers and even a “damn, Gorski, you look like a drowned rat” from Officer Franklin, who remembered me from hunting.
I smiled at him as I walked by, letting out a fake laugh and saying something about it being a great night to go swimming. Then I opened the door to the equipment room and went inside.
“Name and number?” the officer sitting at the desk behind the cage asked robotically as I approached, leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor behind me.
“Valentyna Gorski, Officer 71287.”
“It says here you’re a detective,” the officer said, glancing up from her computer screen and frowning at my drenched appearance.
“Right.” I still wasn’t comfortable addressing myself as one. “That’s correct.”
“What have you got?”
“I’m returning the sensors that Detective Randall Hakim signed out.”
She straightened at his name.
“All thirty-three of them and the corresponding batteries, cords, and hard drives.”
“No.” I shrugged off the bag and dropped it on the counter between us. “I’m missing two sensors, two batteries, and three hard drives.”
Her frown deepened.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know. We were using them in the woods and lost them in the process.”
“Did you even bother to look for them?”
“Yes.” I fought to keep my exhausted irritation at bay as a puddle formed around my feet. “I assume one was washed away tonight in the storm. The other went missing a while ago, dragged off by an animal.”
“And does Detective Hakim know they’re missing?” she asked, her tone so laced with condescension I felt like a new recruit.
“Yes.” I folded my arms as I looked at her. “He’s aware of the first one. I’ll let him know about the second as soon as I get upstairs.”
“Make sure that you do.” She stood from her seat, grabbed the wet bag off the counter and moved it to the table behind her. Then she took a yellow form out of a plastic bin on the wall. “Fill this out – Detective Hakim will need to sign it.”
“Sure.” I took the paper from her, ignoring the unimpressed glare she gave me.
“And Captain Vogle will need to initial it,” she added as I turned to leave. “To acknowledge that you lost the equipment.”
“Got it.” I shoved my way out of the room before she could say anything else.
“Gorski?”
I paused, closing my eyes and letting out a breath before I turned around to face the familiar voice.
“Captain Tan.” I forced myself to smile up at the man as I continued to leak water all over the floor. “It’s nice to see you again, sir.”
His eyes trailed over my body from head to toe, then slowly made their way to my face as his brow arched.
“What the hell happened to you, Gorski? You look half-drowned. Did Hakim send you out in this shit?”
“I had to collect the sensors from the Dolan facility so we can get the case wrapped up this week,” I said. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough.” I held up the yellow form. “Lost another sensor in the woods.”
“It happens.” Captain Tan nodded. “Did Vogle talk to you about the next hunt?”
My irritation instantly evaporated as dread curled in the pit of my stomach.
“The next hunt?” My voice was weak. “No, sir, he didn’t.”
“He will.” Captain Tan smiled. “He managed to get a spare tag for the fall event. Knowing him, he’s probably saving it so he can surprise you with it, so if he calls you into his office to tell you – act surprised. Hopefully this time you’ll catch something.”
I felt my right eye twitch as I faked another smile.
“Yes, hopefully so.”
The words made me want to puke.
“Anyway, you should get back to work before Hakim comes looking for you,” Captain Tan said, smacking me on the shoulder as he moved away. “See ya, Gorski.”
“See you later, sir.”
I stood there, breathing hard as I watched him walk away and memories from that night started to circle my mind. I had forgotten about the autumn hunt. With everything that had been happening, it had completely slipped my mind, as had the prospect of me being invited to yet another nightmare event. And now, all I could see was that girl lying on the ground, covered in blood and mud, staring at me with her green eyes. I could feel her nails clawing at my skin as she fought against the river. I could hear her voice as the thick smell of iron and water flooded my nose.
Did Warren know her? Had she been part of his group?
I closed my eyes again, taking a deep breath as I curled my free hand into a tight ball.
Don’t throw up.
Acid burned my throat.
Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up!
I nearly gagged.
I’m going to throw up.
I let out the breath, tore my eyes open, and then forced my feet to move. I could feel the bile burning higher as I slammed my way into the stairwell. Knowing the elevator would never be fast enough, I ran up to the eleventh floor and fumbled with my passcard to get the door open. I all but fell through it, stumbling into the wall before racing to the bathroom near the boardroom. I didn’t bother to check if it was empty. I just shoved open the first stall and vomited into the toilet as my eyes started to sting.
I took a deep breath, then threw up once more.
Then I stood there in silence, staring down at the bowl as my eyes burned with tears.
I have no idea how long I remained that way, staring blankly as water from my still-drenched hair dripped down my face. I didn’t move until my phone buzzed, but the sensation only made me feel worse because I knew it wouldn’t be Warren. My eyes pinched as my heart started to ache, but I made my body straighten, flushing the toilet before pulling out my phone.
It was Grace, and she was letting me know she had snagged a reservation for a late lunch tomorrow.
