All the King's Men (The Turning Series Book 1) Page 15

  And ignorance, she thought.

  Danika figured she wouldn’t get away with an answer like that, but Charlie simply nodded and withdrew any other intent to press further. That, in itself, was surprising since his profession made him unusually curious about a lot of things. Her family was shelved right up there with topics like Carter and Monroe in the category of things she rarely discussed.

  There was another break in the conversation, and the sound of plastic forks jabbing at food and paper plates filled the room. But between the two of them, the time contemplating what to say next that didn’t seem forced or disingenuous.

  “Just can’t resist cutting in, can you?” Charlie didn’t bat an eye, nor did he stop from twirling the next bite of pasta onto his fork. He’d sensed Sloane long before he neared the suite, possibly even when he entered the lower levels of the Ward; the chorus of his creaking leather jacket and thuds of his boots on the stairs were easy sounds to pick out, even with the machines softly whirring and hissing around him.

  Danika looked up at the door to see who was impeding on their impromptu luncheon, seeing Sloane there, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Sue me,” Sloane quipped as he folded his arms, his blue eyes glaring daggers at the back of Charlie’s well-groomed head. “Ruin my grand entrance, will ya, Chuck?”

  Charlie sighed at the unwanted nickname.

  “Hey, I’m just here to visit a friend—evening, by the way, Dani—and don’t worry, I know I have the right to remain silent.”

  “I’m not a cop,” Charlie said, in-between chews.

  “Oh, good for you.” Sloane retorted, in a not-so-subtle whisper.

  And just like that, the ease and comfort of the cute little dinner-for-two was ruined.

  “Fucking seriously, guys.” Danika muttered, unable to stop her signature eye roll. She just wanted to eat her lunch in peace. “Test your calibers out somewhere else, or get a damn room. Please.”

  The boys exchanged glances, a silent stalemate, for the sake of Danika’s sanity, and quit their bickering.

  “Well. Charles. Do you mind if I…” Sloane waved his hand at Danika, in a silent request for a private conversation.

  Charlie bristled and gave one last look toward Danika before collecting the bucket for ice on the far counter. “If Danika doesn’t mind, I don’t either.” Much like the dance at the Grand Regal, he dismissed himself to give the old friends some privacy. He didn’t put up much of a fight, perhaps because he knew Sloane wouldn’t back down or simply out of courtesy for Danika. However, Charlie didn’t leave without staring down the intruder, which was returned in kind.

  Danika sighed, exasperated at the rather obnoxious display. Once Charlie was gone, she slid the tray of food away from her and placed her palms at her sides, and she weakly pushed herself up against the bed. Sloane quickly stepped in to help adjust her pillow. “Thanks.”

  “Mm-hmm.” There was a flash of a quick, thin-lipped smile as he snapped his fingers. Sloane sealed off the room with a spell; a bright red light filled the room and flickered before fading away. “So… a little dinner date, how romantic. You’re telling me you still trust that snake?”

  Danika froze, clearly confused with her eyebrows raised. “Right into it, huh? Not even a warning this time.”

  Sloane shrugged as he pulled up the chair beside her, sitting real close in case his powers weren’t strong enough to withstand Charlie’s super-senses. “He won’t be gone long, and you hate small talk.”

  “Well, you’re not wrong,” Danika nodded. “Why? Jealous?”

  “That again?” Sloane scoffed. “Tchya, right.”

  “Then what?” Danika snapped, a smidgen of impatience to force his response with urgency.

  “It’s…” He folded his hands in front of him and rest them on his stomach as he leaned back to kick his feet up on the side of the bed. Sloane didn’t bother to move them when Danika tried to push them off. “He could be trouble, Dani. I’m just saying we should tread lightly. No matter how well you think you know him, or how nice he might seem, or how perfect you and your starry-eyed uncle think he is, maybe we should get the facts right.”

  She stiffly shrugged. “You’re the investigator, so investigate if it really worries you.”

  “And it doesn’t worry you, that Morgan just pulled this guy off the streets and bumped him up to ops without a lot of training?”

  “Get some new questions, man. I already told you. Erik’s been—”

  “Erik, Koa, Olivia…You. Yeah, I know you’re helping him. But doesn’t it bother you just a little bit that he couldn’t stop you from getting hurt at the Grand Regal?” Sloane punctuated with a pointed eyebrow. “Mr. ‘I run real fast and hear real good’… Doesn’t roll off the tongue very well, but you get what I’m saying?”

  Danika shook her head, “No one could spot that, Ian—the shooter, he was probably over a mile away. You see the news? King probably set this one up, another marketing ploy for his campaign.”

  “Dani.”

  “What?”

  “This wasn’t a marketing ploy. This was a real Gods-be-damned shooter with a very real bullet that got you.”

  She winced and gently placed her hand on the gunshot wound. It was absolutely real. The pain that accompanied it was real. Why did she even support that theory in the first place?

  Sloane looked over at her as she chewed on that thought, with a concern behind his piercing eyes that she hadn’t seen in quite some time. “Don’t you think it’s weird as shit that the hitman went for you, a woman with no ties to the local government, dressed to kill—dressed up as arm candy—”

  “Ian, seriously, what are you on about?”

  “—as opposed to her date, a spoiled pretty-boy lawyer at a big-shot firm?”

  “We don’t know why I was targeted over anyone else yet.” Danika brushed it off, rushing into her next point. “I’m sorry, does this mean you’re already investigating us?”

  Sloane’s neck jerked back, his lips curved upward in a judgmental smirk. “Whoa, us? What’s this us business anyway? Dani…are you still in character or something? The op is over—Is that why you’re so defensive today?”

  “I’m not being defensive.” Danika snapped.

  “Jesus…” Sloane huffed, “don’t tell me you’re already looking to replace Carter?”

  If there was one way to provoke the inexorable rage from Danika, mentioning Carter was one of them, and Sloane knew it.

  Danika wondered how he thought this would get her to be swayed to his side things. Danika’s jaw tensed, and she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him now. “Get out.”

  Sloane’s posture changed. His shoulders slouched. He knew he’d crossed a line. “I’m sorry.”

  Sorry, my ass. She thought.

  “Get the hell out or I’ll have Koa throw you out of HQ so fast it’ll knock that Devil out of you.”

  If he wanted to come in here with his guns blazing, far be it from Danika to stay unarmed. Sloane didn’t use his abilities as often as the rest, partially because he didn’t like to. It’d taken years and a lot of regrettable incidents to tame that beast, and because of that sentiment, Danika knew she could pull that in this verbal tug-of-war. She wasn’t going to let a comment like that slide, not from anyone.

  Sloane sharply sighed, annoyed at her underhanded comment, but he knew he deserved it for what he’d said. He kicked his boots off the bed and stood up in one swift movement, turning for the door. “Suit yourself.”

  Danika didn’t bother stopping him, but there was part of her that believed him, and she hated that.

  *

  Everyone had gone; Charlie left shortly after Sloane, and between her meal and medication, she was knocked out for a few hours. Danika woke up after her nap, greeted by the orange sunset that peered through the window. She yawned loudly, without any regard for manners in the presence of two visitors at the foot of her bed. Her vision was still blurry but she recognized them at once: based on hei
ght and frame, she figured one of them was Callista, who had gone with a deeper shade of violet in her pixie-cut hair. Her wide, lavender eyes were boring right into Danika. Somewhere behind her, Frost’s beanpole physique looked too tall to fit in the guest chair, but he was asleep. Normally she’d bitch about visitors coming around so frequently, but she had to admit the company was comforting.

  “You should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Danika yawned again, her voice low and groggy.

  Callie snickered and nudged Frost’s arm. “Psst! She’s awake.” It took two heaves until his arm fell off the rest, and Frost’s head bobbed as he caught himself.

  Frost clicked his tongue in a split second of pure irritability before realizing that Danika was awake. His eyes widened and he sat up. “Hey!”

  “Frosty the Snowman.” Danika smiled, though it wasn’t nearly as big or glamorous as Frost’s.

  Picture perfect bastard.

  “Popeye…” Frost solemnly chuckled.

  “Popeye?” Callie’s neck jerked back, her face full of confusion as the reference was lost on her.

  “You know, the sailor man? Muscles? Eats a lot of spinach? Goes around punching the bad guys?” Frost rolled his hands to try and help her along, but he was over it in a couple of seconds when he saw it wasn’t getting anywhere. “Tsk. Man—get out of here with your young-ass confusion.”

  Danika was amused at Frost’s jab to the youngster. She inhaled sharply as she pushed herself up on the bed to sit up straight.

  “Easy—”

  “I’m fine, Frost.”

  “No, you silly, stubborn girl. You’re not fine. You were shot.” Frost was up and out of his chair, and she could feel his glacial fingertips on her shoulder as he moved in to assist.

  “People keep saying that shit like I’m unaware.” She waved her hand as best as she could to encircle her body. “Hello?”

  Frost sighed through his nose, a wordless response that was a little cross, but he fluffed her pillows anyway and carefully leaned her back. The chill of his palm at the nape of her neck was soothing. She coughed a bit, her throat dry as she tried to normalize her raspy voice. Frost was kind enough to pour a cup of water for her, and she accepted it with a smile. She held it in both hands but didn’t drink just yet.

  “Thanks.” Danika breathed out and lay back where she could comfortably see them both.

  “Of course, babe.” He kissed her forehead and stepped back, taking a seat at the edge of the chair next to her.

  Danika puffed out a breath and shrugged. “Now, if one of you is responsible for helping me get bumped up to one of Aldo’s fancy suites? I owe you one….”

  “Tch, yeah… As if Aldo or Morgan would let you settle for the floor?” Frost chuckled. “Didn’t take too much convincing. These are some nice digs though, D. Much better than the hospital too. And you know, I’m thinking maybe I should go out in the field and get hurt so I can get the first-class treatment.”

  “First-class hospitality aside? Bullet in the damn stomach ain’t worth it. Trust me.” Danika shook her head. “Though, if you feel up to speaking on my behalf, can you let Aldo know that the food here still tastes like shit?”

  They laughed.

  At least Charlie had come around with the meal before, sparing her one night of eating the bland cafeteria food. Then again, she didn’t have to slurp it through a tube. She shuddered.

  “You want comfort or you want comfort food? Morgan’s only got the budget for one, or so he’ll say.” Frost rolled his eyes. “Ah, but don’t worry, I got you, girl. Well, only if Aldo doesn’t kick my ass for giving you high cholesterol and greased up arteries before you’re ready.”

  “Charlie brought lunch from that Italian place I like so much, so it’s a start.” Danika gave Frost a thumbs-up and smiled, choosing to ignore the odd look that Frost gave her at the mention of Charlie’s name. She figured he had another teasing quip on the edge of his tongue, so she kept on. “Oh, by the way, how goes the search? Please tell me we got what we needed at the Regal?”

  Frost lightly nodded. “Still sorting through the files. Haven’t found much on the camp yet, it’s almost like it doesn’t even exist. Pretty sure that was the point. Those pamphlets were made for something else…”

  “Abducting kids. Yeah that’s a real shining star on his campaign ledger.” Danika snarled.

  Frost shook his head in disgust. “Well we have an address, a website and some information on what they do there—or really what they’re willing to disclose as their front, but satellite imagery doesn’t even pull up a facility on the grid.”

  “Wow. Cloaking you think?”

  “Maybe.”

  Danika narrowed her eyes, pondering that for a moment, before looking up again. “And what were you able to find on the Rook?”

  “Most of his military records are heavily redacted…”

  “God, I fucking hate that word.” Danika grumbled.

  “You and me both.” Callie agreed. Redactions were common in government files, but it just meant roadblocks for any research.

  “Same.” Frost held disappointment behind his eyes. “For the most part, it’s a dead end. Morgan was right, the guy’s a ghost, but we’re hoping there’s something in King’s files that will point us in the right direction. With Sloane was tracking him that night, and if your man Charlie can help us with clearer details, we’re bound to find something.”

  “Good.” Danika nodded.

  “We’re doing our best, babe. I hope you know that.”

  “I do. Thank you, guys.” Danika shrugged and sipped at the water. Complaining or rushing them, as she probably would have if she’d been at full strength, wouldn’t get them anywhere. Her eyes drifted over to the orchids sitting in the window, and she turned back to them. “Speaking of, where’s Charlie? Have you seen him?”

  Cue: awkward silence. Danika couldn’t just sweep their looks under the rug because they looked like they’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and had turned to look anywhere but at Danika’s face. They were kick-the-dirt and whistle-an-innocent-tune away from satirizing this scene.

  Danika sat forward. “What’s going on? Is he okay?”

  No answer.

  “Guys?”

  After the third time of failing to stifle his nerves, Frost broke the silence first. He reached over and placed his cool hand on Danika’s forearm for reassurance. “Yeah, he’s…he’s fine babe. But—”

  “But what?”

  Frost balked. “That’s what we came here to talk to you about…”

  Callie looked mournful, hesitant, and worried all at once. “I think it’s best if you…”

  “If I what? Okay, fast forward please, enough with the fucking evading—” Danika threw her hands up and they plopped back down onto the bedspread. “Callie. Frost. I’m sitting down. My blood pressure is just fine, and for the last time: Where is Charlie?”

  The look on their faces spoke volumes. The dread, maybe even regret… Danika tilted her head to try and search their eyes; She’d asked several times and rendered no results. If only she was at full strength…

  Frost looked like he was ready to take off, as he put his arm around the pixie girl’s shoulders. “Cal, I told you this was a bad idea—er, maybe we should let you sleep, D. Come on—”

  “Not today buddy, hold it!” Danika pointed. She only looked at Frost for a second before turning back to Callie. “Will someone just please tell me what the hell is going on?”

  Callie cringed, and it was now that Danika saw the girl was clutching file tucked into a manila envelope marked CLASSIFIED on the front. Callie reluctantly presented the file, her shoulders dropping in defeat. “Here. Have a look.”

  Frost turned away, throwing his hands up. He sighed, “God dammit, this shit is…D, we shouldn’t even be here with this. I mean, you’re not ready for it and I don’t even think we are supposed to…”

  Danika peeled open the envelope and tugged on the folder neatly kept inside
. She flipped the cover open to find a photograph of Councilman King which was taken at an official city shoot when he took office. He was dressed in a neatly pressed suit, sitting in front of the standard blue textured background with the state and nation’s flag standing at either side. However, nothing could get her eyes off that arrogant smile. She’d seen this same smile before, plastered on for appearances, the night she met him at the gala. Flickers of that night returned to her, how he approached Charlie with small talk and nonchalance, how he presented his wife like something out of a trophy case, and how he knew her parents…

  How the hell did he know her family, other than Morgan?

  As she thumbed through, Danika found records and receipts of his latest transactions (which were spa dates for his wife, expensive clothing, car rentals and a restaurant bill from a place downtown), there was a copy of the deed to his hotel, photographs of his penthouse and office, and more personal details she didn’t care to read. “Alton King’s file. I already know a lot of this stuff, most of it was probably aired on television or whatever hungry online blogger is calling themselves a reporter nowadays—this isn’t anything new. This is what got your panties in a bunch? Is this all we risked our lives for? Alton King trivia??” If so, Danika knew she would have to speak with Morgan about that. A dangerous operation, one that ended with a bullet in Danika’s chest, just to grab some information about a well-known city Councilman?

  Callie nodded slowly. “Yes…we’re aware that a lot of this is public. As Frost said earlier, we have more information downstairs we have yet to dig through, lots about the city, new developments and everything. I’ve got a lot of it already transferred on a drive, but…that’s not everything.”

  Danika narrowed her eyes skeptically and flipped towards the end of the file. There was another folder attached to it. Same black cover, also CLASSIFIED, only this one was marked with bright red X. She looked up at the two of them, who were already biting their lips and fidgeting now. This had to be it. Danika looked down at the file. When she turned the cover, she discovered why they were collectively terrified. A pair of black and white photographs were pinned to the front flap. On the left, an infant, swaddled in a blanket and next to it, a current photograph of…