Soulless: The Girl In The Box Part 3

"You think he left a note that says, aNext I turn south and drive 400 miles to Ankeny, Iowa, where I will rob a convenience store and stop to use the potty'?" I rolled my eyes.

"Why do you think they're sending us to Owatonna if there's not going to be any clues as to where he's going next?"

"He or she," Kat said.

I yawned again. "Because half of what the Directorate does is gather evidence so they can justify locking these criminal metas up when they actually catch them. I've seen the files. We'll pick up the evidence and get whatever info the locals have, and when the Directorate hears about the next attack, we'll haul a.s.s to catch up."

Kat and Scott exchanged a look and then she turned back to me. "Wow, you've given this some thought. But what makes you think that the, uh...the meta...the criminal*"

"Suspect." Scott said it businesslike, as though he were trying to play the part of a real FBI agent. "Or perp. That's what they call them on the TV shows."

"Anyway," Kat said, "what makes you think the perp will have a destination? Couldn't they just be on a drive, or maybe running from something?"

"Maybe." I felt the cool air from the AC, slowly flus.h.i.+ng out the humid heat that lingered even now, after the sun was down for a couple hours. The temperature display for outside still read 83 degrees. "It could be a Bonnie and Clyde-type situation, where they're just bopping around from place to place, but it seems a little odd. I'm kinda surprised there's not more information on who the perp is."

"We'll ask some questions when we interview the victim." Scott sounded self-a.s.sured.

I looked over at Kat. "You have the details on this one?"

"Um..." She fumbled for her phone and clicked it on. Peering at the screen, she tapped it a few times and then started to read. "Yes, okay. Daniel Lideen, age twenty-five, of Waseca, Minnesota. Looks like he's worked at the store for about six years, a.s.sistant manager, was alone on the night s.h.i.+ft...a patron found him at around 6 A.M., looked to have been knocked out for a while before he got rousted by this customer, who's a regular." She looked up. "Nothing spectacular there. Multiple contusions to the head from getting slammed into the counter, maybe a concussion or brain injury; the last report indicates they weren't sure."

"Hm." I got lost in my thoughts. "You can take a peek inside, though, right? Figure out what's wrong with him?"

She nodded. "I can probably take care of any memory loss. Was that what you were thinking?"

I smiled. "I was thinking it'd be nice to help the poor guy out since he got the c.r.a.p kicked out of him, but that's not a bad idea either. After all, if he can give us a description of the perpetrator, that would make our job easier."

It got quiet for a while after that. I sat with my head leaned against the window, staring out at the darkened fields pa.s.sing us by until we got into the suburbs. I recognized the familiar lights of Eden Prairie as we pa.s.sed through and got onto the 494 loop, skirting the southern edge of the city. I could tell Scott was still excited, and he chattered occasionally about how great the a.s.signment was going to go and his certainty we'd achieve success and start building a reputation within the Directorate. I was sure he was right, but was privately hoping that it would be a good reputation rather than a bad one.

We caught Interstate 35 and headed south as the clock clicked 11 P.M. The traffic on the road was light and Scott kept us well above the speed limit. Parks had mentioned before we left the Directorate that the plates for the SUV were flagged as an FBI vehicle, and there were flas.h.i.+ng lights and a siren in case we needed them.

The land flattened out and the buildings became more scattered as we pa.s.sed out of the southern suburb of Burnsville. Shopping centers gave way to fields and forests, the trees becoming havens for shadow as the headlights of our SUV chased the blackness off the road ahead. Forty miles pa.s.sed in the blink of an eye * I closed my eyes and was jarred awake what felt like seconds later, but I knew wasn't after I smacked my mouth and it was dry, my tongue finding a layer of film over my teeth.

I rubbed my eyes as I pushed myself off the window. Kat and Scott were talking in hushed voices in front of me. I heard him chuckle, saw her giggle and bat her eyes, watched her hand reach out and stroke his forearm. I started to ask them where we were but stopped myself. There was no reason for me to interrupt their moment.

I watched a sign pa.s.s that indicated that Owatonna was only a few miles away. I quietly pulled the water bottle I had left in the cup holder and drained it, rehydrating my mouth. Kat and Scott took no notice of me, still chatting in low voices. I could have heard them if I tried, but I made an effort to tune them out. I focused on Zack and checked my phone again. Not a text message, a missed call, a voicemail, nothing.

"You're awake." Kat's voice contained a hint of surprise and I looked up from my phone to find her tight smile looking back at me. Her eyes were slightly squinted and she appeared to be chewing on her lower lip. I felt a little bad for her, because it was obvious nerves were working on her at least a little. "The GPS says we'll be there in less than five."

I nodded as I took another drink of water and popped a piece of gum in my mouth. I had left the purse behind when I changed into a gray suit with a white blouse underneath, placing my wallet and FBI ID into the pockets of my suit jacket. I could feel the lump that was my pistol under my left arm, the weight of it against my side in my shoulder holster. I knew Kat and Scott were carrying as well, but I doubted that they knew I was carrying a backup in an ankle holster on the recommendation of Parks. The two of them had been uncomfortable with the firearms portion of our training. I reveled in it, like I did all the other parts that involved fighting.

Parks drilled it into our head over and over to use every tool at our disposal. "Your powers set you apart from others," he'd said. "In ancient times, people with your powers could rule entire countries. In modern times, one man with a gun can hurt you more than an ancient army. The gun is mankind's great equalizer and you're a fool if you don't recognize it." He talked like a drill sergeant when he was training us. I knew he'd done a stint in the army because he'd told me so. Parks knew his stuff. He'd been with M-Squad for almost ten years, since he and Bastian had basically built the unit from the ground up.

I also carried a knife strapped to my calf on his recommendation, but that was another thing I wasn't likely to mention to the squeamish Kat especially, nor Scott. No use making them edgy. I was glad Scott was excited. I was skeptical. I hadn't done this before, and I didn't want to get into a situation I might not be prepared for while hunting down a meta I had no knowledge of.

Scott guided the car onto the exit ramp as the gentle voice of the GPS told him to turn. I could see the Kwik Trip lit up just off the freeway, a fifty foot sign out front with the price of gas in red as an enticement to save a cent over their compet.i.tors across the street. We turned into the parking lot and stopped in front of the pump. Kat and I both looked at Scott, questioning, until he shrugged. "We need gas. We can look around here and then head out to the hospital to interview Lideen, if he's awake."

Kat walked alongside me toward the door while Scott pulled out his Directorate issued credit card to swipe it in the gas pump. "Talk to the clerk while I go to the bathroom?" She said this to me as I pulled open the gla.s.s door so she could go in.

"Uh, okay." I shook my head as she veered toward the back of the store. I watched her pa.s.s a bakery case with a wide selection of donuts. I felt my stomach rumble and realized I never did get my dinner, but I shook it off. It felt like my metabolism had slowed in the last few months, in spite of the training routine. I had to watch what I ate.

I approached the counter as the Asian kid behind it stared at me, the only person in the store. I reached for my FBI ID and flipped it open, trying not to feel nervous. After all, he was most likely going to be paying attention to the ID, not me. "Sienna Clarke," I said, just barely remembering my a.s.sumed name. "FBI. I'm here to ask some questions about the robbery."

"Uh, yeah." He nodded, his acne seeming to have reddened. "I wasn't here when it happened."

"I know that." I pulled out a small notepad and pen I was carrying in my pocket. "The victim was a Daniel Lideen, right?" He nodded at me. "You work with Dan very often?"

"Nah," he said. "He was usually mornings or overnights. I work evenings; this is only part-time for me. Dan's a full-timer. I was here before he took over last night at eleven, though."

"See anything unusual?" I was asking mostly out of general interest. I wasn't planning on spending a lot of time interviewing this kid, since he hadn't been around for the robbery, and based on our information, the perp had been in South Dakota during his last s.h.i.+ft.

"Not really." He shrugged. "We get a lot of traffic from the interstate, so there's more strangers that come in here than regulars."

"All right, well, thanks for your help..." I looked down at his white nametag, standing out on his blue s.h.i.+rt. "...Shaun."

"Sure." He nodded again. He seemed to let out a deep breath and I suspected he might be a little nervous talking to the law. Couldn't imagine why.

"I'll take these." Kat appeared at my shoulder and plopped a plastic bag onto the counter. I looked down and saw she had filled it with a half dozen donuts from the bakery display against the far wall. She looked up at me innocently. "Want one?"

"I don't think I can," I said. "They go right to my hips."

She picked up one with white frosting and multicolored sprinkles and took a big bite. "You sure?" Her mouth was full, and the glorious smell of sugary dough was in the air. "It's really good."

I blinked and shook my head. "I can't." I looked down at the bag then back up at her with a suspicion. "Are you going to eat all of those?"

"Unless Scott wants one, yeah."

I sighed and pushed my way out the exit with a forced smile for Shaun, who blanched because I caught him checking out Kat. It figures; not only does she have a body that draws the attention of every man that crosses her path, but she doesn't have to work that hard to maintain it.

Scott was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the gas cap on when I got back to the car. "How'd it go?"

"Fine. Your girlfriend will be back in a minute; she's buying out their entire bakery."

He frowned. "I didn't expect to turn up much here, but I kinda hoped..." He let his words trail off.

"That we'd find the meta hiding out in front of the store, wearing a trench coat, a backward baseball cap, and rapping profanities?" I cast a look back toward the entrance as Kat made her way across the parking lot toward us, a donut in one hand and the bag hanging from her fingers in the other.

"Guess this is where the real detective work begins, huh?" He opened his door and climbed in while I got into the backseat behind him again. I watched him start to fiddle with the GPS. "Let's hope the victim or the local cops can shed some light on things for us, or else we're gonna be hanging out in this town until we pick up another incident. Hospital is an exit back, police station is east of here a little ways." He shrugged. "Hospital first?" I nodded and we were off.

When we arrived at the nurses' station and flashed IDs, a middle-aged overweight woman in pink scrubs showed us to Daniel Lideen's room. He was sleeping, his long face tilted to the side. The nurse left when Scott asked her to and I looked to Kat. "You should get a feel for his injuries before you wake him up."

She put her hand on his forehead, causing him to stir slightly. "Not a bad idea." She closed her eyes and her breathing slowed. A light glow appeared under her hand and the clerk's skin started to s.h.i.+ne. A black and purple bruise under his eye began to fade along with a thin scab that ran the length of his cheek. I saw Scott shutting the door as Kat took her hand off the clerk's forehead and his eyes opened, blinking at the two of us. "That should do it," Kat said.

"h.e.l.lo, Daniel," I said as I leaned over him. "My name is Sienna Clarke and I'm with the FBI." I halted to give him a second to process that information. His eyes blinked a few times as he tried to focus on me. "I'm here to ask you some questions about your a.s.sailant."

"Oh...okay." His voice was a little scratchy, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was more asleep than awake. "I already told the officers what I remember."

"I know." I tried to make my reply as soothing as possible. "But they're local cops and we're here to ask because the same thing that happened to you happened to some other folks in Wyoming and South Dakota. Can you tell me anything about the person that robbed you?"

He screwed up his face in intense concentration, staring over my shoulder, then went blank. "I don't...I can't remember."

I shot a look at Kat, whose eyes widened as she put her hand on his upper arm. I saw the glow from her as I asked him another question. "Tell me what you do remember."

"Um...I came into work at about eleven...and I did some restocking in the freezer." He squinted, as though he were trying to recall. "I remember eating my sandwich and drinking some coffee at about five." His face relaxed and he shook his head. "After that...I don't know."

I looked sidelong at Kat, who was taking long, ragged breaths and whose hand was at her side. She shook her head. "Can you tell me anything else, Dan? Anything could help."

His eyes were blank. "That's all. That's all I remember."

I gave him as warm of a fake smile as I could. "Excuse me while I talk to my a.s.sociates." I beckoned to Kat, who followed me, shuffling along in slow steps to the hallway outside. I looked left and then right; the corridors were white, with dingy tile and little color, but empty. I honed in on Kat. "What's the matter with him? Has he got brain damage?"

"No!" She shook her head with more emphasis. "I checked him over again after the first time, and this guy is healed; he's in perfect condition. His skull is fixed, his scars are gone and it doesn't look like there was anything wrong with his brain even when I touched him the first time, let alone now."

Scott looked back at the door to the room, which was drawn. "Is it possible he's lying?"

"Possible." I nodded at him as I chewed that one over. "But I don't think so. I was looking in his eyes as he answered, and he didn't show any of the obvious signs. He was working last night, so it seems unlikely he's secretly the meta doing all this, unless he can somehow teleport to Wyoming and South Dakota on his breaks." I shook my head. "I don't think he's lying. I think there's a simpler explanation."

"What?" Scott looked at me. "You think he has some kind of neurological damage that Kat can't detect?"

I looked back at him, then to Kat, before I answered. "No. I think that whoever attacked him..." I took a step back and looked through the semi-open door to see the clerk sitting upright in bed, blinking, looking around the room, disoriented, even though he had just been healed by someone who could fix nearly any ailment. "...took his memory."

Chapter 7.

We cleared out of the hospital after some perfunctory goodbyes and thank-yous to Daniel, and checked in with Ariadne. We sat in the car, engine running to give us air conditioning to offset the heat (still almost eighty even though it was nearing midnight) while we listened to Ariadne.

"You think whoever attacked him is responsible for his memory loss?" There was a slight fuzzing in the speaker, probably the result of the air conditioner operating near full blast to keep the three of us from sweating through our suits, but otherwise it almost sounded like Ariadne was in the car with us.

"Which guarantees that it was a meta that attacked him." I was almost glum at the realization. I was kind of hoping it was going to be some petty criminal that we could slam dunk and leave to the local authorities. Part of that might be because I was checking my phone every few minutes for a call or message that I had yet to receive. I wasn't going to be the first to break the silence, that much I knew. "Any idea what kinds of metas can cause memory loss?"

"There are a few," Ariadne said. "Let me talk to Dr. Sessions and get back to you with a list."

"Any other incidents?" Scott cradled the phone in his hand, holding it just below his chin when he was talking, as though it were a tape recorder.

"Nothing at present. You still need to meet with the local cops, but the Police Chief for Owatonna is out for the night, so it's best if you wait until tomorrow to make that stop." There was a pause and a hiss on the phone before Ariadne spoke again. "Check into a hotel and get some sleep. If there aren't any incidents tonight, check in tomorrow morning after you've stopped by the Owatonna PD."

"Understood." I tried to keep the fatigue out of my voice as Scott punched the end b.u.t.ton on the phone after the two of them added their responses to my own. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm exhausted."

Scott grew a curious grin, one that cracked his ruddy face and made his eyes dance. "You can't go to sleep just yet."

"Pretty sure I can." I rubbed my eyes. "And will."

"No, no, no." The smile was getting kind of creepy. "Do you realize what we're carrying with us?"

"Guns and teenage angst?"

"Ha. No." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, dangling the new Directorate-issued driver's license in front of my face. "Fake IDs that aren't really fake."

I let my jaw drop in disbelief. "What are you thinking?"

He smiled again, then turned forward in his seat and fastened the seatbelt with one hand while fiddling with the GPS with the other. "I'm thinking we find a hotel with a bar."

I leaned back in my seat and draped my hand over my eyes. "Right. Because there's no possible way this could go horrendously wrong."

I kept my peace on the drive, even though I was questioning not only Scott's level of responsibility but also his sanity. We found a hotel (with a bar across the street) and I shook my head as we pulled up.

Scott must have sensed my discomfort. "We all agree that the meta who's doing this is probably far from here by now, right? If he keeps to the pattern?"

"Mighty big aIf'," I said with a shake of the head. "But probably."

"So if we check into the hotel and then have maybe one or two drinks..."

I could tell by his smile he was already reveling in the freedom and there was little I could do to sway him. Still, I had to try. "What if Ariadne calls us after we've been drinking with a lead we need to pursue immediately? We're screwed. We won't even be able to drive anywhere."

"I can drive." Kat spoke, turning to face me. "I'm pretty drained from healing that clerk; I don't think it'd be a great idea for me to drink right now. So if we get a call, I can drive while you guys sober up."

"See?" Scott gave me a shrug of unworry that did little to a.s.suage my concerns. "Got it covered."

I grabbed my bag and opened the door. "Got it covered like what? Like you had Gavrikov covered?"

"You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?" He was following behind, and I caught a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Not so long as he's stuck in my skull, no."

We checked in, getting two rooms. I started to suggest that Kat and I could stay in one room while Scott stayed in the other, but when I handed him the cards for his room he handed the other to her and I didn't bother to argue. I preferred to stay by myself anyway.

We went up to the third floor where our rooms were side by side. "Meet out here in five and we'll head down together," he said.

"I think I'll pa.s.s," I said. "You guys go have a good time. I'm just gonna turn in; might as well have one of us be rested for the morning."

"Come on, Sienna. We've been working our a.s.ses off for months, had Parks and Ariadne breathing down our necks, had all manner of s.h.i.+t go wrong, and now we have a chance to unwind. Don't be so uptight."

I took a deep breath before answering so I could avoid ripping his head off while we still had potentially weeks' worth of road tripping ahead of us. "I'm not being uptight. I just don't want to screw this up, okay?"

"I get it." He let the smile recede into a smug, almost taunting expression. "It's okay. I admire your restraint. You probably don't even wonder what it feels like."

I tensed, felt every muscle from my lower back up locking into place. "Wonder what what feels like?"

"Drinking." His half-smile dissolved into a real one. "You haven't wondered what it's like? Your boyfriend goes out drinking sometimes, doesn't he?"

I felt myself relax, but only a tenth of a percent. Dammit, I had thought he was talking about something far different, and it had let a wave of acid loose in my stomach, sending it roiling. "Yeah, Zack goes out drinking every now and again." Usually when I'm busy, but he does it. Because he's old enough.

"And you never felt curious or left behind?" He smiled, a little too innocently.