The beating I’d suffered had severely limited my ability to blot out other people’s thoughts.
Holy shit! It’s a massacre in there!
What’s going on?
Is that the guy I saw on the news?
Why is he dressed like that?
I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on each voice. Their volume went down to a manageable level after a few seconds.
The doors to the elevator started to close so I stuck my foot between them.
The young couple I’d watched leave from the back walked across the lobby. They stopped ten feet away from me. The girl gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. The boy pulled a phone from his pocket.
I thought he was going to call for an ambulance, but he started recording video instead. Why did there have to be a stupid camera on every phone?
“Can someone help me out here?” I looked around the group, but no one moved. “Pretty please? With sugar on top?”
The concierge ran over from the front desk. “What’s going on here?” He spotted my bloody visage, and the color drained from his face. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better. I have a couple of boo-boos.” I held my hand out for him to grab.
“What happened to you?” He helped me to my feet, careful not to get any of my blood on his suit.
I hocked a mouthful of red-tinged spit onto the floor. More blood flowed into my mouth from my smashed nose. The girl beside Mr. Cameraman grimaced.
“I cut myself shaving.” I pointed at the throat-chop victim in the elevator. “Call for an ambulance. That guy might have a broken larynx.” I kicked the Man in Black in the ribs. “Get the cops here for this piece of shit.”
The Desert Eagle went into my waistband. The young couple whispered to each other when they saw the gun.
My eyes scanned the lobby in search of more of Smith’s men. I couldn’t afford another fight. My body was shutting down already.
Can’t believe how much the porn costs in this place. To hell with this, I’m getting on the internet.
It's OK to drink rum and diet coke because it has no carbs, right?
Nice of them to give me a view of the highway. So glad we spent extra for the suite. I’m going to give that smarmy dickhead behind the counter a piece of my—
I leaned against the concierge as more thoughts filtered in. The dull roar grew louder.
Drew walked in the front door, a brown bag in his right hand. He stopped a few feet into the lobby when he saw me standing there. “Do I even want to ask?”
“Smith sent one of his jackals.” I bobbed my head at the elevator again. “We had a disagreement.”
“It looks like he disagreed all over your face.”
“And my knee.” I released my hold on the concierge’s shoulder.
Drew pulled his piece from its holster. The crowd gasped and shrank away from him.
“I’m a detective. Everyone relax.”
I hobbled my way across the lobby.
The kid filmed me the entire way.
I looked right into the small lens, gave it a bloody smile. “Remember that only you can prevent forest fires.”
Drew met me halfway. “Forest fires? Why the hell did you say that?”
“Seemed pithy at the time.”
“Seemed stupid.”
“I have a traumatic brain injury—shut up. Help me get out of here. If Smith sent that guy after me, there’s no telling who else is around.” My knee continued to swell as we made it out to the parking lot. I kept one of my hands on Drew’s shoulder, letting him deal with some of my weight.
The heel of my free hand pressed against my temple. The pressure between my ears made my head feel like the top was about to blow off.
“I’m afraid of the answer, but why are you dressed like you’re about to go on stage for ladies’ night?” Drew led me to the right. He’d moved his car to the front of the building for some reason.
“I stole clothes from the people in the room beside ours.”
“They fit you well.”
A few people followed us outside. Mr. Cameraman kept recording us as we walked through the parking lot.
“Ash, I made a few calls and—”
I pointed at the brown bag in his hand, cutting him off. “What’s in the bag?”
“Bottle of Jack. I couldn’t find any—”
I grabbed it and tore the paper bag away. Took a long pull. Pleasant warmth ran through my throat and stomach.
“The noise getting bad?” Drew asked.
“Can barely think straight. That guy back there came to kill me. Something is—”
I’d just opened the passenger side door to Drew’s car when another thought stream hit me.
What? Holy shitballs!
I recognized the inner voice, the pattern of speech. It was the child-woman I’d met outside of Smith’s.
Drew saw my hesitation. “What is it?”
“Someone else I met with Smith is here.” I let my eyes roam around the parking lot.
It was full of nondescript cars. Except for one. A black SUV parked by the entrance.
I tipped the bottle at it. “She’s in there.”
I’ve got to get the fuck out of here. Goddamn psycho assholes are going—
“Better hurry, she’s going to run.”
Drew kept his piece held in front of him as he ran back to the vehicle. “Out of the car!”
Fuck balls!
“Keep your hands where I can see them.” Drew walked around to the passenger side, aiming through the windshield.
I hobbled over, taking another sip from the bottle. I’d have to pace myself with the hard stuff, or I’d be completely useless soon. With the way the rest of my day had gone, I had a feeling that there was more bullshit on the horizon for us.
Drew tore the door open. His face scrunched when he saw the tiny person inside. “It’s just a kid.”
“I’m not a kid, you baldheaded dick bag. Get that fucking gun out of my face.”
“It’s a kid with a really foul mouth.” Drew lowered the pistol. “Get out of the car.”
“I said I’m not a kid. Are you hard of hearing, baldy?” Nami had to climb out of the SUV backward. Her short legs made it look like she was scaling down a monster truck.
I waited by the front of the vehicle, caressing the bottle. The stiffness in my knee kept me from walking any further than necessary. The pinch behind my eyes loosened a bit as the alcohol took hold.
Drew cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at her. “I’m just a little confused here.”
“I’m sure that isn’t unusual for you.” Nami came around to the front of the car, turning her attention to me. “I had no idea he was going to try to kill you. I swear, I just figured out what he was going to do when he went inside.”
I tried to focus on her, to access her memories, but there was too much background noise from the people in the hotel. Too many emotions around us. Even still, I remembered how little she knew when we’d met outside of Smith’s office.
“You just figured it out? How?”
“I hacked into his phone.”
I took another sip. “Bring her with us.”
“Where are we going?” Drew asked.
“Anywhere but here.”
Nami said, “I’m not going anywhere with you guys. This morning I went into work like any other day, and now I’m stuck in the middle of some crazy ass—”
Drew grabbed the back of her shirt and dragged her forward.
“Let go of you me, you big oaf!” She kicked him in the shin.
Drew scowled down at her. “You shouldn’t kick people with guns.”
“I’ll shove that gun up your ass.”
“For a ninety-pound girl, you sure are feisty.” He yanked her forward again.
“At least let me get my laptop and that dude’s phone.”
Sirens came from the highway.
“Get your stuff,” I said. “But hurry up. We have to be out of here before the cops arrive.” I looked at Drew. “There’s a warrant out for me. They think I kidnapped you.”
“I heard.”
Nami and Drew went back to the SUV. He grabbed a backpack, laptop, and cell phone.
“Hey, they’re abducting that little girl!” Mr. Cameraman looked around at the other spectators as if he expected them to stop us. No one moved.
Nami’s fists balled. “The next one of you morons who calls me a little girl is going to get their ass kicked.”
Drew steered the car out of the parking lot a moment later. We drove east toward Baltimore, though we weren’t going anywhere in particular. At some point, we would have to ditch his car before a camera picked up his license plate. Drew avoided toll roads so the booths couldn’t take our picture.
The overwhelming voices died down a bit, but I still struggled every time we passed a group of cars or a bus.
“Nancy Williams, this is Drew Lloyd,” I said over my shoulder.
“It’s Nami.”
“Whatever.”
“Not whatever. Call me by my actual name.” She looked at Drew. “And it isn’t a pleasure to meet you. I’m getting really tired of people jerking me around today. First, all of my coworkers killed themselves for no goddamn reason. Second, I had to meet with that Smith douche and then his flunky is driving me all over the place as we look for you. Third, you’ve kidnapped me, and I don’t even know what you want.”
Drew gave her a little salute. “Dealing with you hasn’t exactly made my day either.”
“You were thinking that Smith’s guys back there were psychopaths. Why?” I asked Nami.
She stared at me. No way.
“Yes way,” I said.
She pushed back into her seat, unconsciously putting distance between us.
You can read my mind? You know what I’m thinking?
“Yes.”
Drew peered at me from the corner of his eye. “What?”
We both ignored him.
Blue.
“Blue.”
Dogs are cute.
“I like German Shepherds.”
Holy shit!
“You might want to see a doctor if your shit is holy.”
A string of slurs and disbelief ran through her head.
“You sound like a lunatic right now,” Drew said. “I know what you’re doing, but all I’m hearing is your side of this conversation.” He looked at Nami in the rearview mirror. “Care to fill me in on who you are?”
Nami kept her attention on me. “Impossible.”
“Natalie is a computer dork. She worked at the DC3 building on the floor where everyone jumped from the windows,” I said.
“My name is Nami!”
“If you were in that building, why aren’t you dead too?” Drew asked.
“I was on a different floor when it happened.” She kept staring at me. “How is this possible? They told me that you could hear people’s thoughts, but I didn’t believe it.”
“Don’t ask me. I bumped my head a few years ago, and now I’m stuck in a car with you while federal agents chase us.”
“Let me out,” Nami said. “This is too much.”
Drew finally pulled off the main road we were heading down and took a smaller one. Relief washed over me as we drove further away.
“We can’t do that. Not until you answer some questions first.” I took another shot from the bottle.
Fuck it. I’ll just open the door and jump out.
“Speed up, Drew. She’s thinking about jumping out.”
Drew pushed the accelerator down.
Get out of my head, you asshole.
“I can’t. Normally I can control it, but I’ve had a rough day.”
“Why don’t you just look at her memories and get what we need?” Drew asked.
“I’m trying, but I can’t focus. The booze is quieting everything, but it’s screwing with my ability to concentrate on one voice.”
“You guys are sitting up there, talking about mind fucking me like it’s no big deal.”
I turned around so I could face her. The movement hurt my ribs and chest like hell. “Believe me, the last thing I want is to be in your head. You like some really weird stuff.”
“Then let me go.”
“We will, as soon as you tell us what you know. How did you find us?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “How do I know that I can trust you? I can’t tell who is lying to me and who is actually trying to do the right thing. They told me about some Murdock asshole and all the terrible things he was doing, but then they tried to kill you. And then…”
She let the last sentence trail off.
I caught a hint of her thoughts, but my lack of focus didn’t let me hold onto it. She was thinking something about a list.
“Maybe this will help.” I took the Desert Eagle from its spot in my waistband and handed it back to her.
She stared at it. “Is this a trick?”
“What are you doing?” Drew asked. “Don’t give her a goddamn gun.”
“She won’t hurt us,” I said. “I saw into her head earlier today. She’s a good person. Grating and vulgar as hell, but she’s moral.” I bobbed the pistol. “Take it.”
She grabbed the handle, having to use both of her tiny hands because of the size and weight of it. She studied it for several seconds as she weighed her options. I caught pieces of her thoughts, enough to get the gist of her struggles.
I capped the bottle and put it on the floor. As much as I wanted to drown everything out, I needed the use of my ability until we were safe. I’d have to suffer for a while longer.
“I found an email from Smith to the guy in the black suit while you were in the hotel.” She held his phone up. “He left this on the seat when he went inside.”
“Why would he leave his phone in the car with you in there?” Drew asked. “That’s just stupid.”
“It has 256-bit encryption. It would take me weeks to break into it, and that’s if I had access to my tools at the office. He probably thought no one could get into it.” She shrugged. “And maybe he didn’t actually leave it on the seat, so much as I pulled it from his pocket and hid it until he left.”
I liked her style. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I didn’t have a good feeling about them. I’ve dealt with some shady assholes since I started working for the government, but these guys were worse than usual.”
Drew looked at her in the mirror again. “If the phone is so advanced, how did you manage to get into it?”
“Our friend back there has an especially greasy face. I followed the unlock pattern his finger smeared on the screen. It was a triangle.” She gave me a big smile. “Nailed it.”
“That’s it?”
“Yup.”
“Can we skip the back patting for a bit? What did the email say?” I asked.
Dick.
I waited.
Nami pursed her lips, said, “The email had four names in it. They were listed for termination.”
“I’m guessing your name was on it.”
“It said to take me back to my apartment and make it look like a suicide so it would fit in with the pattern of my co-workers. Your name was on it too.”
I rubbed my sore knee. “No shit. What I don’t understand is why?”
“No idea. I had just found the list when you two knuckleheads walked by the SUV. Ten seconds earlier and I would have been gone.”
Wanting to kill Nami didn’t make any sense to me. Then again, I didn’t know why they’d come after me. The two of us were trying to help them. We’d both encountered Murdock too, so we understood the importance of what they were doing.
Why get rid of us?
“You said there were four names in the email—what were the last two?”
Nami unlocked the phone. “One of them is your baldheaded butt buddy.”
Drew’s shoulders tensed. “Me? Why would they want to kill me?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles went white.
“The last name is Samantha Moore. There’s a Baltimore address listed beside it.”
“Sammy?” I asked. “The woman I met this morning?”