Rogue Alliance (42 page)

             
“Thank you,” Sue said.

             
Shyla was still not sure how to feel about Sue. Her concern for Carmen was genuine but it was hard to tell if her worry stemmed from love or
a desire to save face.

Either way, Shyla’s only focus was to find Carmen and make sure she was safe.

             
“What happened to your window?” Shawn asked after peeking into her bedroom. He’d been wandering the apartment taking notes while they talked and Jason asked questions.

             
“Oh, you, know, kids out in the parking lot, tossing a ball around.”
Shyla said.
She gave him a look that said she’d rather talk about it without Carmen’s mother around.

             
He gave a curt nod and continued the interview. When they were finished, Shyla walked Sue to the door.

             
“We’ll keep in touch,” she said,
“
I’ll call you if I hear anything and you can call me anytime. Okay?”

             
“Yeah, okay…uh…thanks for everything.”

             
Sue
turned and rushed down the stairs.

             
“You’re welcome,” Shyla shouted after her
.
She shut the door and joined Jason and Shawn.

             
“So your window, what happened?” Shawn demanded.

             
Shyla
crossed her arms over her chest.  A drink was what she wanted, not a conversation about her life. But Shawn would persist until she came clean if she didn’t fess up.

             
“A brick happened,” she answered,
“l
ast night, aro
und two-thirty, it
was tossed into my bedroom. When I hopped out of bed to take a peek, the culprit was already zooming out of the lot. I couldn’t make out a license plate, but I know it was an older Buick by the shape.”

             
“You t
hink it was one of Victor’s men?
” Jason a
sked.

             
“No, I don’t. I think this is someone who knew my dad. I don’t have proof but it happened after the bars closed
,
which indicates a drinker. It happened just days after who I really am and what I’m doing here made the news. My gut just tells me this is someone with old baggage. I’m not really that worried about it.”

             
Shawn tossed his tablet to the couch.

             
“Of course you aren’t worried about it, just like you weren’t worried about Victor.”

             
Shyla had seen that one coming but it didn’t burn any less.

             
“You know what
, Shawn?” she retorted,
“We have a missing thirteen-year-
old to worry about right now, and Victor is out on the streets again. Some old guy, who is still pissed about what a fourteen year old girl did to her father over a decade ago, is not on my list of priorities. And neither should it be on yours.”

             
“Fine, we’ll do it your way, li
ke usual,” he said,
“c
ome on Jason, let’s comb the streets and talk with the people on that list.”

             
Ignoring Shawn’s bad attitude, Shyla grabbed her coat.

             
“I’m going to have a look around, too. I’ll take my car and give you a call if I find anything.”

             
Shyla locked the door and zipped up her jacket. The temperature was dipping fast and would likely reach freezing point by midnight. She hoped that Carmen was safe and warm in a friend’s house or was smart enough to head home before it got too late.

             
She felt
queasy because s
he knew that Carmen was hurting, a
nd people made irrational decisions when they were hurting. She knew that all too well.

FORTY-SIX

             
As she drove up and down the
streets with
no sign of Carmen, Shyla couldn’t suppress the escalating sense of panic that was tightening h
er chest. With every empty lane
came a larger, more consuming sense of dread.

             
Just one more street, she’d think. She’d find her walking along in her combat boots and mini-skirt with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She’ll be listening to her iPod and sipping a soda that she swiped from the Walgreens.

             
That line of thinking had her turn the car around. She’d cruise by Walgreens one more time. It was where she’d first met Carmen. She’d caught her stealing and threatened to bust her if she ever caught her again.

             
As she cruised through the parking lot, she took note of the car that had pulled in just after her. She could have sworn that she’d seen it earlier when she was on Normandy heading toward the city limits. Keeping it in her rea
rview mirror, she parked
. After taking a quick look through the store, she was relieved that the car was nowhere to be found when she stepped outside.

             
Paranoid,
she thought,
that’s wh
at I am
. But
,
after her experience with Victor, the brick through her window, and now Carmen’s disappearing act, her nerves were shot. She wa
nted a drink in the worst way,
to settle the jittery feeling that was threatening to take over.

             
Pulling out onto the main road, she took a right and
,
as she passed the Barnes and Noble, the same car she’d seen earlier pulled out behind her. Yeah, she sure as hell was being followed. Well
,
she didn’t have the patience for a cat and mouse game.

She drove two blocks down and hooked another right into the Safeway parking lot. Acting like she was looking for a parking spot
,
she watched as the car parked in the small gas station in the same lot.

             
Spi
tting mad, she hopped out of her
car and marched straight toward
s
it. Drawing closer
,
she imagined they would spook and drive away, but they didn’t. Her eyes focused on the driver. Brennan. She hadn’t recognized his car.

             
He opened the door and stepped out.

             
Jutting a finger into his face, she came unglued.

             
“What the hell do you think you’re doing following me all over town?”

             
“
You know exactly what I’m doing,
”
Brennan replied, his expression
calm, almost serene. It infuriated her.

             
“Do you think for yourself at all, Brennan? Or did they completely destroy all sense of self when you were in that institute?”

             
A flicker of something resembling hurt passed over his features but he recovered quickly, ignoring her ugly tone.

             
“I have a job. I’m following orders, but I don’t have anything to hide. I knew you’d figure out that I was watching you. I wanted you to know.”

             
“Yeah, well, you can go home now. I’m not doing anything that would interest either you or Victor. I’m looking for a lost girl and I’m in no mood for this bullshit.”

             
“I could tell you were looking for something. Who’s the girl? Maybe I can help.”

             
Shyla’s
jaw dropped.

             
“Are you kidding me with this right now?
” she said, “D
o you have no ability to follow social cues and etiquette? Here, let me explain this to you, Brennan. I am a cop…was a cop. I want to arrest your boss. Your boss tried to kill me. Now I’m really pissed and your boss wants to try to finish what he started, which is why you
are following me around. Y
ou are part of the whole “kill Shyla” team. You and I, we aren’t supposed to help each other with anything. Ugh!”

             
Beyond frustrated
,
she waved her hand
in the air and turned away before immediately turning
back. The look on his face was the same. He was just waiting for her to finish having her tantrum.

             
“Tell me what she looks like and I’ll take the op
posite side of town that you do,
”
Brennan said.

             
Why did he do this to her? She wanted to hug him. She wanted to slap him.

             
“It’s no use,” she sighed, “
I’ve already been all over town and so have my partners from the station. We’re not going to find her tonight.”

             
Brennan
leaned against his car. He was wearing jeans, a black t-shirt
,
and a leather jacket and looked good enough to eat. If it weren’t for the odd circumstances, she’d have thought about taking him home with her just so she wouldn’t have to be alone. Shoving that thought aside
,
she looked toward
s
her car. In her fit of rage, she’d double parked and left the driver’s side door wide open with the engine running.

             
“I’d better go,
”
she chuckled.

             
Brennan reached out to her.

             
“Wait,” he said,
“w
ho’s the girl? Is she family of yours?”

             
Shyla
almost said no but realized how much she cared for the girl, like family. And she hadn’t had family around for so many years.

             
“Not exactly,
” she said,
“
but, it sure feels like it sometimes. She’s a friend.”

             
Figuring another pair of eyes would be helpful, she gave a quick description.
             
“She’s thirteen, a little chunky, dark, shoulder length hair, wears combat boots and way too much make-up. Her mom saw her this morning but the school said she never showed up to class and she hasn’t been seen since. She’s mad at me because…well, she just is. I’ve got to find her.”

             
Brennan reached out and wra
pped an arm around her shoulder.

             
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. I know you’re worried but I’ll bet she’s going to be just fine. We’ll find her.”

             
She wasn’t sure if she was more shocked about the way he’d defused her anger and was now gently guiding her toward her car, or by the fact that she was allowing him to. He sounded so confident that everything would be all right. But how could it, when it seemed to
be unraveling faster and faster?

             
Brennan
eased her into the passenger
seat and
reached over and buckled her in.
             
“You nee
d to go home and get some sleep,” he said,
“
I’ll follow you
,
then make another pass through town before I head home.”

             
He said it so casual
ly
, as if it were normal to have someone who worked for the man who wanted you dead and was trailing you through town to offer to help you home and then finish looking for a lost child. All in a day’s work.

             
He was right
, though; s
he was exhausted. She’d been up since the brick had sailed through her window.

             
“Why are you doing this, Brennan…any of it?”

             
“Life’s short. Why not?”

             
W
ith that
,
he shut the door and walked away.

FORTY-SEVEN

             
Sleep did not come easily to Shyla that night.

             
Trying
to resist the urge to los
e herself in a
bottle, she picked up her free weights
,
hoping to work up a swe
at and shut down her mind. A
n hour later
,
her muscles were shaky and she was sweaty from head to toe, but her mind was still alert and toxic.