But Crow was made of lies. Hell, he was a lie. Whatever he really was, he was certainly no normal man. He couldn’t be trusted either.. Hammer’s gaze turned to the tape player. He had been in a mighty hurry to stop it. The door was still closed. The machine was still running. Hammer turned the knob.
“I know! You should be getting a medal, not rotting under OCI headquarters. Heh, just between you and me, I know you Grimnoir didn’t do it. We’ve already got conclusive evidence upstairs. But nobody in charge is going to see that evidence until I’m done cleaning house. I’m sure as hell not going to let a good crisis go to waste. My office just got a blank check to do whatever we needed to do to get you people under control. You know how rare that kind of pass is? In a little while, Congress will go back to getting cold feet and fretting about overstepping its bounds, but by then it’ll be too late for your kind.”
For once, everything Crow had said there was completely true. He knew these people were innocent and he had the evidence to prove it.. the rat bastard. Hammer heard a noise from the hall so she quickly stopped the tape.
Crow came back in, shaking his head. “Politicians riding my ass..” He looked at her suspiciously. “Why the long face?”
“Nothing. Ready to get back on the case is all. You need me for anything else, Mr. Crow?” She wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
“Naw. We’re good here… You know, Hammer, I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. You’re one hell of an investigator and you’ve got a rare gift. We’re both professionals here. Once you’ve found Sullivan, maybe you should think about coming to work for OCI as a full agent. We’re not the BI. That was your original goal, wasn’t it? No place for girls there though. OCI don’t care. Looks, brains, Power, somebody like you could go far with us.”
Snowflake’s chance in hell of that. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
After Hammer left, Crow checked the player. Sure enough, she’d played the rest of the tape. People with integrity were so easy to manipulate. They were like reading an open book. Especially when, because of the rarity of their Power, the OCI had been gathering information on them for years. Even with somebody you couldn’t lie to, you just had to figure out which truths you wanted told, and then steer them into filling in the blanks themselves.
One of the men reported in a while later. Just as expected, after getting away from the courthouse, Hammer had pulled her car over and spent twenty minutes searching through it and her bags. Perfect. He had wanted her unnerved and thinking about how he’d been able to find her in the middle of nowhere so easily. She’d found the tracking rune that he’d had scratched into the paint just under the bumper and destroyed it. He had specified that it shouldn’t be made too hard to find. That would make her feel like she’d won, like she’d outsmarted him. A small victory would make her more confident that he could be outwitted, and that would make Hammer brave enough to make a hard decision.
Which was right where he wanted her.
Hammer found herself back at the crossroads.
Her father had taught her how to track, magical or otherwise, how to defend herself, how to listen to her magic, and all of the other useful skills that she’d used to make a good living. He’d also taught her about right and wrong, and how sometimes the truth can be somewhere between the two.
If the OCI’s mission wasn’t evil, then it was damn close. An innocent man was going to die for a crime he’d tried to prevent, and if Crow had his way there would be many more to follow.
She thought of the ring. She’d been a little girl then, gone to her father’s office to bring him a lunch basket. A stranger had been there, wearing that same ring, and so she’d waited outside. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d listened through the crack as the stranger talked about trying to find someone that was using magic to commit crimes, and how he wanted to catch the criminal before it drew too much attention to their kind.
Afterwards, her father had talked to her. Of course he knew that she’d been spying. You can’t lie to a Justice. He told her that such men were a force for good, and that though their existence was to be kept a secret, they were on the side of truth.
She knew that he’d helped them a few times. He’d done things over the years that were outside the scope of his duty as a marshal, dangerous things, and when he’d come home he’d never spoken about them. In a family where lying to your children was impossible, sometimes you just had to say nothing at all.
Lee Hammer had been a good man. Tough, quiet, hard as rawhide, but always kind to his family, fair to his people, and unyielding to his enemies. She’d grown up knowing that her father’s reputation as an impossibly dedicated lawman had been well earned. He was the one to call when there was a dangerous fugitive that absolutely had to be found. She knew that it was because he could always see the truth of things, but that had been their secret, one Active to another. He was careful to teach her to only use her Power for good, to serve others and not just herself. She’d never been as good at that as he’d been, though.
Then he’d been gunned down by a gang and carried home on a plank. She still wore his star on a chain around her neck. Her dream had been to follow in her father’s footsteps, but nobody was going to hire a young lady for that kind of work. Marshalls said no. Rangers hadn’t wanted her. The BI had laughed at her. The only places that had female police relegated them to pushing paper as glorified secretaries.
So instead she’d used her skills in other ways, greedy ways, helping anyone that could pay her enough to get an edge over those that couldn’t. Corporate espionage wasn’t the same as catching crooks, but it had some of the same thrill and it certainly paid better than working for the law, but it had always felt hollow.
So, trying to follow her dreams again had roped her into something even worse.
Jake Sullivan had turned south here.
If she found him, she’d be rewarded. If she betrayed the OCI, then Crow would ruin her life, or from what she’d seen, probably end it. She knew she was being manipulated, but Crow’s oddness kept her from getting a good reading as to what his endgame was.
When surrounded by lies, what would her father have done?
She went south.
Chapter 12
Dear Miss Etiquette, if I think that an acquaintance might be a Mouth and using the power of suggestion on me, is it polite to speak up?
Signed, Befuddled in Buffalo.
Dear Befuddled,
It depends on the social situation. It is never polite to use mind control on anyone, however to suggest something aloud during a party could be very offensive. He may simply be a real charmer. If he is an Active, that is why a proper young lady always is certain that there are chaperones present.
Washington, D.C.
J. Edgar Hoover slid into the backseat of the waiting automobile with a grunt. “What an awful day.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Take me home.” The car pulled out of the garage and onto the busy avenue. “Damned bothersome reporters.” He made special note of remembering the names of each of the newsmen that had asked the difficult questions and put him on the spot. He’d be certain to make their lives as miserable as possible. “They’re like sharks when they smell blood.”
“I know. Dreadful business,” the driver said. Hoover was startled. He was not used to his driver talking back. The agents that rotated through the assignment all knew to just let him talk, and to only speak when asked a direct question. “Right?”
Hoover sat forward, glad to have someone to rip into. Berating underlings always made him feel better after a hard day at the office. “What’s your name, Agent?”
“Garrett, sir. Daniel Garrett.” He reached up and tipped the edge of his hat so that Hoover could see his face
