45

45

I set my mug down while Damien straightened in the chair with pain crossing his face, fading fast. I stood up and walked to the door.

It's Asher.

I opened the door and he came in before I could say anything, his eyes scanning everywhere that cataloged things a normal person would never see. His gaze landed on Damien but it didn’t move for a long breath.

“Morning,” Asher said with a flat voice.

Damien didn’t bother to stand. “Morning.”

I felt the air hitch between them and wanted to slice it in half. “Coffee?” I asked Asher.

“I’ll live.” He pulled off his damp jacket, draped it over a chair and braced his hands on the backrest like he needed the furniture to keep him from saying something he’d regret. “We need to talk.”

“About Natalie?” I asked.

“Yeah. Including the hospital, you.....” His attention cut to Damien again. “And him.”

Damien’s mouth barely curved. “I’m right here.”

“That’s the problem,” Asher said.

“Enough,” I said, more tired than angry. “We don’t have time for pissing contests.”

Asher’s eyes came back to me, softening by a fraction. “You called me when she vanished remember? I’ve been pulling something since then and all the evidence we got, but there’s a gap in the feeds. Thirty-seven seconds on the second-floor south wing. Guess where Room 214 is.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. “You think they cut the feed for Natalie.”

“Or they piggybacked off a maintenance loop, ether way, she didn’t walk out alone.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Her chart shows a sedative micro-dose at 2:03 a.m. Signed by a nurse who wasn’t on shift. Someone scrubbed the name afterward, badly.”

Damien watched him without blinking. “Do you have the nurse information?”

“Working on it,” Asher said. “But the badge ID used to authorize the med drawer belongs to a dead person. He drowned years ago.”

Something cold brushed my spine. “They’re recycling identities.”

“Or someone inside is handing them out like party favors.” He glanced toward my hallway, where the bedroom door stood half open. “How are you sleeping?”

“I’m not.” The truth landed before I could dress it up.

Asher’s expression flickered. “Any more gaps?”

I hesitated. “One, the Polaroid. In my pillowcase, then me in the kitchen with my eyes shut and knife in my hand. Saw ‘You’re almost ready’ on the back.”

He closed his eyes like the briefest prayer. “They’re accelerating it.”

“Explain.....,’” Damien said.

“The same thing she endured after her breakdown,” Asher answered, and then to me, gentler: “Which you survived but they’re trying to reopen it. They’re not guessing at your triggers Camille...., they’re reading from a playbook.”

I swallowed the dry ache in my throat. “Where are they pulling from? The MH Institute’s records were supposed to be sealed or so.”

Asher’s mouth hardened. “Supposed to be.” He looked at Damien again and there was a warning inside it. “This is where you stop hovering near her like a storm and start being useful.”

“I’ve been useful,” Damien said calmly. “Just not to you.” Referring to Asher.

“Boys,” I said, almost smiling at how ridiculous that word felt between men like them. “Focus.”Asher blew out a breath and nodded once. “The motel,” he said. “we never fully processed that room because someone torched the adjacent unit and the scene got contaminated by half the fire department. Though, people like him...” he nodded at Damien “stash things in places uniforms don’t check. Like outlets, a broken slat under a drawer, back of a toilet tank or a fake quarter drilled out to hold a MicroSD.”

Damien’s gaze slid to mebthen away. A tell I’d learned years ago.

“What did you take?” I asked.

He didn’t pretend he didn’t understand. “A drive.” He opened his right hand like he could see it there. “Tiny. Matte black. No markings. Taped under the radiator bracket.” Damien said.

My pulse skipped. “You didn’t mention this before.”

“I'm sorry, we were busy into the case” he said. “Then Lena, the hospital and you telling me to get out of your life.”

“Where is it now?” Asher asked.

“In my car.” Damien’s eyes held mine. “Front left wheel well in a magnet box.”

Asher’s hands left the chair back. “Go get it.”

“I’ll go,” Damien said. When I started to move in order to follow him, he shook his head. “Alone.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I don’t know if we’re being watched,” he said. “And if they’re out there, they will want to see what you do next not what I do.”

Asher shot me a look that said this was a bad idea and then shrugged like he wasn’t going to spend another breath arguing with a man too stubborn to leave. “Be quick.”

Damien rose carefully. Pain shadowed his features but he didn’t make a sound. He pulled on his jacket, didn’t bother with the zipper and headed for the door.

“Damien,” I said.

He paused with his hand on the knob.

“Ten minutes,” I said. “If you’re not back, I’m coming out with a bat.”

That pulled the faintest ghost of a smile from him. “You don’t need a bat.”

“I want one anyway.” I replied.

He nodded and slipped out into the wet morning.

The house exhaled. I didn't realized I have been bracing against his presence until he left it behind. It made no sense that his absence was louder.

Asher moved to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain with two fingers.

“He’s limping less than I expected.” He said.

“He’s banking on adrenaline.” I replied.

“Adrenaline lies,” he replied so serious.

“How bad is it?” I asked. “Honestly.”

He didn’t pretend not to know what I meant. “This is very organized Cam. They have money, infrastructures and protections, the kind you get from friends in uniforms, and judges who answer private numbers at two in the morning. You throw Nolan into that mix..., if he’s working for them or with them, the picture will gets uglier.”

I kept my eyes on the street. “Or he’s the boss of them.”

He nodded once. “Boone pulled traffic cams last night. There’s a log-in string being used against an old precinct account. Guess whose credentials it mirrors.”

“Nolan’s,” I said.