Arc Angel (27 page)

The detective must be off duty, because the professional pantsuit had been replaced by crisp khakis and a pink oxford button down. Miranda looked down at her own uniform of jeans and a sweatshirt and winced. At least her clothes were clean today. That was an improvement, right? Plus, no hood today.

“Can we switch?”

No hello? Miranda looked up, at a loss.

“Can we switch sides? I like to keep my back to the wall, so to speak. It’s a cop thing.”

Oh, switch sides of the booth.

“Sure.” Miranda slid out and scooted into the other bench seat.

“So, Miranda, how are you?” the detective asked as she slid into the opposite side of the worn booth.

“F-fine,” Miranda answered automatically. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She could do this. Detective O’Hara was trying to help her. She was sure of it.

“Actually, I’m pretty freaked out.”

The look of surprise on the detective’s face would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

“You know, Miranda, I am too.”

Now it was Miranda’s turn to be surprised. It was hard to believe the polished and professional detective could ever stoop to an emotion as messy as “freaked out.”

The worn-out waitress drifted up to the table, coffeepot in hand. Detective O’Hara slid two of the ceramic cups on the table forward to be filled.

“We’ll have two of today’s special. Thanks.”

The waitress nodded and wandered off.

“I’m not really hungry,” Miranda said.

“Neither am I, but waitresses tend to remember customers who don’t order any food at lunchtime, and I’d like us to stay as unremarkable as possible.”

Miranda nodded her acquiescence. Oh how she’d like to be unremarkable.

The two women faced each other across the booth, silence hanging over them like the cloud of steam rolling out from the diner’s kitchen window. Miranda picked up her coffee and took a sip, just to give her something to do besides look at the detective and wonder.

“Miranda, before we say anything else, I want to explain to you about yesterday.”

Miranda’s stomach jumped. Ah yes, the espionage charge. She didn’t truly believe the detective planned to arrest her, but she wouldn’t mind some reassurance that her interpretation was correct. Her ability to read body language showed signs of improvement, but she still struggled.

“I think you were set up. I think someone wanted to be sure you couldn’t reach out to the police for help. And even if the police did pull you in for questioning, they wouldn’t be able to hold you for more than 24 hours. I want you to know that.”

Miranda sat back in the booth and relaxed a little. Good. She wasn’t going to be arrested for hacking. At least not right now and not by this woman. Still, the reassurance didn’t address the matter of the video. She hadn’t gotten an e-mail at 3 a.m. about the espionage charge.

Detective O’Hara looked at her expectantly. Miranda felt a surge of pride for realizing the woman was waiting for a response.

“Thank you, Detective. I can’t say I’m not still kind of worried about it, but I do feel a bit better now.”

“Call me Kate. I’m not exactly here in my official capacity.” She gave a short laugh that Miranda didn’t have the skills to interpret.

“Why are you here… Kate?”

“Someone e-mailed me a video last night, well, early this morning actually. It showed…”

“Me fighting with some men in a rundown dry cleaners?”

Kate looked surprised for the second time. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Bryce got a copy of the same video.”

“Bryce Campion?”

The surprises were coming so fast and furious that Miranda was starting to become numb to them.

“Yes. How did
you
know?”

“You’ve become something of a hobby for me, Miranda. I’ve been doing quite a bit of research, and I think it’s safe to say that I now know more about you, Mr. Campion and Arc Angel than anyone else in the world.”

“Not more than anyone. Someone else knows all about it too.”

Miranda decided to go for broke.

“He’s the reason I went to the dry cleaners last night, and he’s the one who sent you the video. He calls himself Mr. Brown.”

Kate sat back in the booth, a frown wrinkling her forehead.

“Mr. Brown, huh? What do you know about him?”

“Unfortunately, nothing. But he seems to know everything about me. He’s had people following me. He had someone break into my apartment. They left me a note, telling me to come to the meeting last night or they’d hurt someone. I thought it might be Bryce, but it turned out to be my cab driver, poor guy. And Mr. Brown sent the video to you, Bryce and Gavin Brooks.”

“Brooks? Why’d he send the video to him? And why haven’t we seen it broadcast yet? That guy would do anything to further his career.”

“I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“It is. Maybe I can look into that end of it, try to figure out what’s going on.”

“Thanks.” Apparently Miranda wasn’t completely numb, since the sensation of her eyes filling with tears did manage to surprise her. She’d been so alone, and now she had Bryce and Kate on her side. She didn’t quite know how to cope with the change.

Kate continued as if she didn’t see Miranda wiping at her eyes. “So we know who sent the video, but I still don’t know why I got it.”

“Maybe he wanted you to arrest me?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. If that’s what he wanted, he could have sent it to everyone at the station. That would have guaranteed some action. This way, he left it up to me.”

“And you aren’t going to arrest me?” Miranda tried to keep the hope out of her voice.

“I’ve thought about it. Partly for your protection. Maybe you’d be safer locked up for awhile. And partly because it’s my sworn duty to protect this city. But there’s something about this whole situation that’s… different. Every time I think about what the correct protocol would be, I immediately resist the idea of turning you in.” Kate sighed and ran her fingers through her short blonde hair, leaving a few pieces sticking out on the side. “I’ve been a police officer for 10 years now, and this is the first time I haven’t followed the law to the letter. And the weirdest thing? I don’t even feel that guilty about it.”

Miranda didn’t know what to say, how to comfort the detective, so she simply agreed. “It’s been a weird couple of days.”

“It has indeed.”

The waitress appeared with two plates of open-faced beef sandwiches and deposited them in front of the women.

“Do you need…?”

When neither of them said anything, the waitress turned and walked away.

Despite her nervousness, Miranda’s stomach growled. The sandwiches smelled delicious.

“Maybe I will eat a little,” Kate said, and both of them reached for their silverware.

After they had eaten a few bites, Kate restarted the conversation.

“I don’t know why I got the video. I didn’t get a note with mine, so apparently Mr. Brown doesn’t want to talk to me, even if he does want me to see his handiwork. Whatever. That doesn’t matter. The real question is what does he want with
you
?”

“I don’t know,” Miranda repeated. “The only thing he’s said is that he wants to meet me. He never says why.”

“Well, let’s figure this out. Obviously he needs you for something. Needs what you can do.”

“Do you think he wants me to k-kill someone?”

“Assassinate them? Maybe. But who? There isn’t anyone very important here in town, and no one is scheduled to visit any time soon.”

Miranda relaxed a little. Thank god. She couldn’t bear the idea of hurting anyone else.

“Miranda, I think whatever it is, it’s going to happen soon. Sending that video to a reporter, who could broadcast it to the world, is risky. He needs you to stay secret until he’s done with you.”

Miranda tried not to let the sense of dread she’d just pushed down come back up to the surface. “Done with you” sounded a little too ominous.

A short man in a motorcycle jacket pushed open the diner door and stepped inside, hesitating on the threshold.

“If it’s not assassination, what else could it be?”

“What else can you do?”

“I manipulate electricity. I can turn on lights, turn on equipment, that kind of thing.”

“Or turn them off. Maybe—Miranda, get down!”

The man in the motorcycle jacket stalked toward them, a gun in his right hand. Miranda ducked down under the table.

Kate stood up and faced the guy, proffering her leather clutch purse and blocking Miranda from sight. “Whatever you want, you can have it. Here take it.”

“I don’t want your money, bitch. I want her.”

He waggled the gun toward the table.

“I don’t think so.”

Kate swung her purse, knocking the gun from the man’s hand, sending it skittering under the booth next to theirs. She dropped her purse and grabbed the now unarmed man by the shoulders, kneeing him in the groin. When he doubled over in pain, she followed up with an elbow to his back, sending him down to one knee.

Miranda watched the whole thing in shock. Where was Arc Angel when you needed her? There hadn’t even been a prickle, warning her of the approaching danger.

The minute she thought the words, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Man, talk about delayed reaction. But the power continued to rise, filling her up with light and heat. She looked at Kate. The detective had subdued the assailant—who lay on the ground, out cold—and had pulled out a cell phone. The situation seemed to be under control. So why was Arc Angel still knocking on the door, wanting to come out to play?

I WASN’T NEEDED. NOW I AM.

She turned smoothly toward the hall to the restrooms and sent a blast of energy into the man who’d appeared there. Wordlessly, he sank to the floor, the gun in his hand clattering harmlessly on the floor.

That was close!

No reaction from Arc Angel, but Miranda knew the superhero’s consciousness still lingered. Though if she had answered, that would have been really freaky. Imagine having a conversation with someone in your own head…

The thought made Miranda shiver and want to retake control of her body instantly. Why was it getting so much harder to break through? Arc Angel didn’t aggressively force Miranda to stay out of the way, but her alter ego was so much stronger that once she sat in the driver’s seat, it required immense effort to dislodge her.

Kate looked back and forth between Miranda and the second man while she continued her phone call. “Make that two assailants, both subdued. Thanks.”

Miranda tried her usual method, trying to simultaneously force Arc Angel down and push her own way to the surface, but nothing happened. She tried again, this time concentrating only on pushing herself to the front. This worked better, and she felt some give. She poured the rest of her energy into breaking back into consciousness and after several stressful moments, Arc Angel slipped back down, and Miranda was fully present again.

Kate finished her call, hung up and pocketed her phone. “Miranda, you need to go. Now. There may be more of them.”

“How did they find us? I tried so hard to make sure no one could follow me.”

“It must be our phones. They must have tapped them.”

“Not mine,” Miranda said defiantly. “Nobody taps my phone.”

“Fine. It’s mine then. It doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you have to get out of here before the officers arrive on scene. I can pass this off as an attempted hold up, but you can’t be here. There’re too many similarities to last night’s incident. Someone’s bound to figure it out. I’ll get a different phone, one I know is safe, and I’ll contact you later, okay? Now get out of here!”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?”

“Thanks to you, yeah. Now go.”

Miranda nodded and dashed out of the diner. She paused outside the door, searching for her cab. She spotted it, still waiting down the block where she’d left it. But if she could find it so easily, what’s to say the bad guys couldn’t find it just as easily? It wasn’t worth the risk.

Okay, no cab. Now what? She couldn’t run all the way to the clinic. The bright mid-day sun didn’t offer any cover to hide in. Plus, despite the diversity of the city, jogging in jeans and Doc Martens would stand out.

She could call Bryce, but that would bring him down here, into the heart of trouble, and she’d sworn to keep him away from trouble.

That left a different car. And that meant she needed Arc Angel.

Miranda jogged to the next street over and headed for a dinged up silver sedan. The car looked new enough to be reliable, but beat up enough not to attract attention. It also looked new enough to rely primarily on a computer system, which would be easy to manipulate. Miranda sent a silent apology to the car’s owner. She hated to steal something, but she didn’t have much choice right now.

Boy, did she ever feel like she didn’t have much choice right now. She’d never called Arc Angel twice in such close proximity; she’d always had some much-needed recovery time, both physically and mentally. But she didn’t have that luxury this time. She needed to get into this car, start it, and drive it to Dr. Harris’s clinic, none of which Miranda James could do on her own. Which meant that she needed Arc Angel. Again.

Miranda opened herself up to Arc Angel, calling the woman to come out. Arc Angel surged up and into her body. She turned and started walking away from the car Miranda had chosen.

Whoa, whoa, hold up!

Apparently it was time to try to have an actual conversation with her alter ego.

We need to use this car, to drive to Dr. Harris’s clinic.

WHY?

Miranda hadn’t expected the question, or any question, really. She wracked her brain for a convincing answer.

Because we’re meeting Bryce there?

No response.

She decided to take another tack.

Because we need to get away from whoever is after us?

That seemed to go over better, since she turned back and strode to the car.

I WILL SAVE US.

She placed her hand on the door lock and sent a small burst of energy into the system, popping the lock.