Part 26 (1/2)

Gramps put his calloused hands on his pressed old guy pants. ”Stop commanding and start going along with things, Mr. Riley.”

Riley stared at Gramps and neither blinked. Finally, Riley slid his gaze from Gramps'.

”Come on, I'll take ya,” Daniels the cop said.

I nodded, looking once at Jade as I walked away, our fingers slipping away from their hold reluctantly.

I walked into an office that I recognized as Garcia's. I immediately noticed how the thing had been stripped bare. Gale's presence had been sanitized from the room down to the minutest detail. No plant, no photo, no single memento that would have signaled her presence remained. When my eyes went to the desk where Garcia sat, his head was in his hands.

”Garcia,” I said.

”Go, Caleb,” he said, ”just go.”

I stood there for a minute then looked at Henry. ”Can ya give us a minute?”

He looked at Garcia then nodded. ”I'll be right outside this door.”

I nodded.

I waited until he was outside, the door open a crack.

”What's going on?”

The silence rolled out. Finally, his head rose, chin first, the eyes swollen and red and I knew he'd shed some tears.

”I loved her, you know.”

What?

He stared at me and I made a stab in the dark, ”Who... Gale?”

”Yeah, Bobbi.”

WTF, so? He beat on me because of Gale? He saw my confusion and pondered how to elaborate. He stood, walking over to the window, the dirty gla.s.s looking out over the parking lot. The sardines in neat rows. He didn't turn, his back to me.

Maybe that was easier.

He stood for such a long time I didn't know if he would ever speak. When he did he startled me and I jumped. ”First, it was Smith.” He leaned his head against the wood molding that lined the edges of the window. ”I thought we had something special, then she broke it off, turning to that psycho Null.”

”She didn't know he was a murderer, Garcia. She's AFTD, not Empath.”

”True,” he said, suddenly spinning around to face me and I fought to not back up, my mind conjuring up the image of that baton.

He must have seen my tight expression because he sighed and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dark blue uniform pants. ”I didn't mean to hurt you...” he smacked his hand into his open palm.

”And Gale? What were ya doin' there?”

He studied me.

”I don't know,” he whispered. He straightened, then said, ”I want to show you something.”

Well h.e.l.l, that came out of nowhere.

”Come here,” he said, carefully rolling up his sleeve.

I approached him warily. But when I saw what was revealed on his forearm, it made every ounce of caution flee.

”You know I wouldn't strike a woman.”

Before today, I would've staked my life on it. His behavior had been so erratic. It hadn't made sense.

But this might explain it all.

There was a star-shaped welt on his forearm, angry and swollen.

I knew that mark.

Our eyes met and locked. ”I think they're using me,” he said quietly, scared I wouldn't believe him.

We didn't need to say who.

I jerked out my pulse and thumbed the pad.

Music, vintage mix I thought into it.

Immediately music from the turn-of-the-century filled the small office and caused Henry to poke his head in the door.

”Everything okay?” His eyes swept the office and I replied, ”Yeah, it's cool.”

We talked for ten minutes about what we thought happened, the music effectively m.u.f.fling our words. Afterward, I ended the discussion with, ”So, whatever underlying emotional c.r.a.p that's floating around... gets magnified?”

”Yes.”

”I'll ask my dad but I think it's some kind of enhancer.”

”No... don't ask him. It may put your folks in danger.”

I thought about what I could do. I knew what this was about. The Graysheets were causing a distraction here locally and making Garcia the scapegoat.

Why?

”Listen, I know I'm just a kid to you...” I began.

He held up his palm. ”No, not so much anymore.”

He smiled and I saw the old Garcia, the measured and cool-as-a-cuc.u.mber Garcia, sneak out in that look.

”I have a plan.”