P. Stormcrow

There was a moment of embarrassment as she let Jackson into her apartment. Bottles of various sizes and shapes spread across the counter and the remnants of last night’s dinner remained on the dining table. But she pushed through and tossed her keys next to the takeout containers. 

“Reed—”

“Finn. This is off the books.” She grabbed one of the dining chairs and dragged it with her towards her computer station.

“Fine. Finn. What’s this about?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jackson glancing at the simple wall clock she had hung up weeks ago in an ill-fated attempt to bring some routine into her newfound bachelorhood. Yes, she was aware it was getting late in the afternoon, but this was important.

“Sit.” She patted the seat and grinned at him.

Skepticism drew deep lines across his forehead despite his youthful appearance, but Damien followed and sat right away. As soon as he settled, she swung around to ease into her gaming chair. It was the most beloved piece of furniture in this entire apartment.

“We’re going to do a little digging on this mysterious Ms. Albright.” Finn almost hummed as she opened a drawer and eased her beater laptop out to place on top of the desk.

The unease on Jackson’s face as he stared at the machine made her chuckle.

“Relax. Everything’ll be above board, I promise. You’d be amazed at what someone can find with a few simple public searches.” She booted the computer and tapped at the keyboard. “And don’t worry, I’ll cover my trail.”

He shifted in his seat, but the way he remained riveted to the screen told her she had him hooked. 

Her plan was straightforward. First, she searched for the woman in the context of Inguz Tech. Media articles. Research papers. Patents. A career bio. LinkedIn. It was definitely her with a professional headshot next to the name Eve Albright. The site revealed little given she hadn’t logged in, but a quick scan gave her nothing. Everything looked normal. Too normal. She went back to her search results page and dug deeper for more of a social footprint. But nada. Not even a Facebook profile.

She frowned as she clicked on one link after another. Finn had no problem locating her PhD thesis on her university site, but while there was mention of her in a fencing club and winning competitions, there were no photos. She used the profile picture from her LinkedIn for an image reverse search, but there wasn’t a single photo that didn’t look staged.

More digging. Nothing beyond her professional life. No other social footprint. Temptation to turn to less legal means whispered in her ear. Later.

“What’s wrong?”

The question jolted her from her flow, and she snapped her head backward to blink at Damien. With a sigh, she slumped against her chair. “It’s too clean.”

Confusion swirled in his cerulean blues. “What do you mean?”

Finn returned her gaze to the screen and pointed at it before waving her hand in the air. “Most people have any least something. A less-than-flattering photo, a comment on a post, even an unpopular opinion. But not our gal.”

“Are you saying it’s all fabricated?” he asked in hushed tones. Hope widened his eyes.

Shit. I need to be more careful. “That would be a bit of a stretch. I mean, technically, someone like her could have a very good PR team. Or she could be one of those tinfoil hat types.”

“Of course,” Damien muttered.

Finn spun her chair around to face him in full. “Look, we’re partners, right?”

He lifted his face to meet her gaze and bobbed his head though albeit with some uncertainty.

It was enough. “So anything you need, okay? Anything at all.”

At that, a faint smile touched his lips at last. “Thanks.”

Finn nodded once. “How do you want to play this?”

Damien closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and straightening. “By the books. Inguz Tech has an army of lawyers we can’t afford to fight against.”

She groaned, eliciting a genuine chuckle from him.

“Stop whining like a teenager. We can’t. It would kill our budget and trust me, nothing puts you faster on Ms. Callaghan’s shit list than blowing the budget. We don’t want the Eye of Sauron on us.”

“Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Finn grinned, the weight that had been on her chest since last night easing off a little. She sucked in a breath. “Well, if we have to play by the rules, I guess we better head back.”

***

Sometimes the rapport he had built over the past months with Finn reminded him of what he had with Maya. But every time the notion came up, Damien would stamp it out as fast as he could. He didn’t need to compare the two women or make the same mistakes twice.

Yet, now he couldn’t shake the thought. Damn Eve Albright.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Damien watched the clouds raced across the sky. 

Maya rolled on to her stomach and shifted to hover over his face. “News flash, we’re already grown up.” Her bright, open smile took out any sting in her words. To be honest, it did much more than that. It was a little sun all on its own, warming him all the way to his toes.

“Do you really think so? Don’t you ever get the sense that we’re just kids masquerading as adults? Playing in sandboxes we have no business being in?”

“Hm. That doesn’t sound like the cocky Damien Jackson I know.”

“Perhaps the Damien Jackson you know is a mask. I mean, it could be that everyone is just walking around wearing ones hoping people don’t find out they’re pretending to know what they are doing.”

Maya lifted one delicate brow. “Well, if that’s the case, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Damien grinned at that. “Still loving you.”

“Jackson, Reed.”

He looked up at Abraham Allen as he walked over to their desks. The freckled redhead had joined a few weeks before him, and they had often shared many conversations over their bewilderment and confusion as they learned the ropes. But like him, Allen had grown into his own, earning the nickname Lie Detector for his uncanny ability to detect bullshit. Given Inguz Tech’s penchant for secrecy, he couldn’t have asked for a better man to head up the case.

“Hey.” Reed’s voice remained cool and distant. This was not unusual, as she continued to keep her guard up with the rest of the force, only making exceptions for himself and Olivia. 

It made him wonder once again what happened at her last job. One day, he hoped she would open up, but he knew they still had some distance to go before their comfort level was there.

“Anything?” Damien asked, curious. He also wanted to know what Allen’s impression was of Eve Albright, but that would have to wait.

“Olivia’s over at Satellite, going over the security footage again. The rune gloves Reed spotted are our best bet at identifying the perps. Thanks, by the way.”

Reed nodded in acknowledgement.

“What can we do to help?” Damien followed up.

“Well…” Allen set down the stack of folders on the corner of his desk.

Damien tried not to cringe as he prepared himself for the grunt work Allen was about to get them to do. He did write the guy a blank cheque, after all, and nobody enjoyed going over old files.

Instead, however, Allen flipped through and yanked out one from the middle. The papers almost toppled over but Reed caught it in time and righted the pile. Damn, she had a good reflex. And that reflex had saved his life more than once. She wasn’t as much of a newbie as he had first dreaded.

“Thanks,” Allen muttered again and flipped open what he picked out. “Guess who got fired recently over a dispute with Albright’s missing assistant?”

“No!” Finn gasped in disbelief.

They stared at a black-and-white photo of Sunny, scowling at the camera. It made sense. They had taken the shot when they had apprehended the guy for trying to merge magic with technology, disrupting the division’s tube system.

“You think he has anything to do with the case?” Finn folded her arms and cocked her head to one side.

“Nah. But right now, we need to pursue every lead. And if he’s still bitter about what happened, maybe he would be more forthcoming with what Inguz Tech was working on than Ms. Albright and her posse.”

“Depends on who he hates more. It’s debatable,” Finn muttered.

Damian grinned as he took the file from Allen. “You want us to bring him in and question him?”

“Yeah. I figured familiar face and whatnot. Plus, didn’t you guys save him from his malfunctioning goggles?”

“Not sure if he sees it that way,” Damien shrugged. “Still, it’s worth a shot. You going to be there for the questioning? Sunny’s slippery. We can use you.”

Allen smirked. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”