He’d have looked for a system hack next. Never in a million years would he have considered the doctor. Adam didn’t make mistakes; he would be scrupulous where Talia was concerned. Maybe he thought Talia, with her gift to read emotions, would be alert to Gillian’s intentions. But surgical gloves would take care of that. Of all the times for Adam to start screwing up…
“I think she should be questioned at least.” Annabella sighed heavily, looking forlorn.
Custo wanted to stay, too, shut out the world and be content. But the thought of Talia, helpless on bed rest at the mercy of her doctor, had him scrambling for his pants to get his mobile phone. He had to ask Adam. Now.
Annabella rose and began picking through her clothes in the background, swearing at her bra. He wished he’d asked her before. Some things became so simple from a different perspective.
The traitor had inside information on Segue movements because Adam told her himself.
Custo punched autodial. It was well past four A.M., but he knew Adam would pick up immediately. Adam never slept.
“Here,” Adam said. His voice was low, so Custo guessed he was with Talia and that she was sleeping.
“What about Dr. Powell?” Custo asked without preamble.
There was a long pause on the other end. Too long. Then, “Oh, shit.”
Chapter Eighteen
ANNABELLA knew how cold and frightening the concrete cells under Segue could be, especially with that smell, which now she knew was arrested decomposition, wraith. The stench was particularly gag-tastic in the interrogation room where Adam had incarcerated Dr. Powell until Annabella and Custo could arrive and take a minute to change their clothes. Dr. Powell, green in the face, kept adjusting her lab coat over her blouse and fidgeting in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her ankles. The woman seemed both defiant and terrified.
From within the adjoining observation room, guilt nagged Annabella: she’d basically put the woman in the cell herself. But Adam was right: caution first, apologies later. Which meant Annabella probably had to forgive him for her own heartless incarceration. Damn it.
Custo asked a few pointed questions and sent Adam a slight nod.
Mystery solved. Now to get at why. This would take longer, an ordeal of careful questions. Annabella and Adam would just have to wait until Custo was finished before getting the real story.
Custo relaxed into a thorough interrogation, careful not to tip off Dr. Powell to the fact that he could read her mind, or the doctor would go to her “happy place” and he’d get nothing usable out of her. Apparently minds could be pretty hard to read. A very small consolation, as far as Annabella was concerned.
Annabella’s stomach rumbled. If nothing else, her adventures with Segue were excellent for her dancer’s diet. The Chinese had been delectable, but she’d burned through it hours ago and was back to starving. The gravity of the situation and Adam’s rigid posture kept her from saying anything. Clearly not the time. And anyway, she’d been fighting her appetite’s demands since she was fourteen. She could wait a little longer.
She concentrated on Custo’s methodical disassembling of the doctor’s thoughts. Custo circled topics seemingly at random—background, education, choice to join Segue—then darted in toward the wraith connection, which the doctor still denied.
“Custo told me that it was you who suggested Dr. Powell,” Adam said, though he kept his gaze through the window. Even in profile, he looked sick and stressed and miserable. “I should have considered…but I thought…” He took a moment to regroup. “Couple years ago, wraiths attacked our West Virginia facility. We were made vulnerable by a traitor who stole our weapons and sabotaged our escape. I thought that Spencer was the only one involved, but it seems like he had a collaborator. Talia saved everyone’s lives that day, including Gillian’s. I am utterly shocked that she would try to hurt her.” Adam looked Annabella full in the face. “Thank you. If she had harmed Talia…”
“But she didn’t,” Annabella put in quickly. “Talia is safe. The babies are safe. And you have your wraith informant. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Poor Adam, soon-to-be father. He had to be blaming himself for his mistake of blabbing while the doctor was present. Really dumb. He must love his wife a lot to lose focus like that, as if Talia were the only person in the room.
“Did you know Custo can play jazz guitar?” Annabella asked to distract him.
Adam blinked, gave a short nod. “Heard him play once. I had to hide in the back so he wouldn’t see me. He was very good.”
“He’s incredible,” Annabella corrected. No one in her presence would ever get away with calling Custo’s playing “very good.” Talent knows talent: the man, her angel, was genius.
Adam’s gaze narrowed, both scrutinizing and pitying. “You love him.”
Annabella didn’t want his pity. She wasn’t going to dwell on the hopelessness of their situation. After all, love was made of hope, and her association with the Shadowlands told her anything was possible.
“He loves me, too,” she said, defiantly. She didn’t say it for Adam really, she just needed to say it. The wolf notwithstanding, was there a future with Custo? He hadn’t said, and she hadn’t dared to ask.
“He must love you if he took you back to the loft. I haven’t been able to go there myself since it happened. I can see him right now, through this glass, but the pain is still too raw.”
A lump formed in Annabella’s throat. Adam was the only person she could probably ever talk to about this, and she might not have another opportunity. “The bullet holes made me…” She couldn’t find the word. “…they were so ugly and hurtful. I can’t imagine…”
“Custo would have been lucky to die by gunfire. Quick. Direct.” Adam’s jaw flexed, the little vein popping out at his temple. “But no, that Spencer piece of shit had to torture him. Ruin him first. Grind him down. And, of course, Custo would take it, stupid selfless bastard, so that Talia and I could get away.”
Tortured? Her chest constricted.
Annabella studied Custo’s face, his gaze drilling Dr. Powell. When he was done with the doctor, she was going to have to love him all over again, until the intensity of this revelation was blunted.
“He’s had my back from the first day we met,” Adam said, “taking the worst of everything. Fighting my battles.”
Annabella smiled a little. “He said something similar about you.”
Adam was silent, staring into the room where Custo pinned the doctor with question after question. Finally, he said, “Anyway, thank you. Anything you ever need, ask.”
Annabella’s stomach groaned again, but she wouldn’t bother him for that. Since the wolf was still absent, she might as well call her mother and get her tongue-lashing over with.
“How about your phone?” Hers had long since died without the charger and was a shiny rock in her dance bag.
Adam handed her a slim mobile. She stared at the face trying to figure how to turn on the super-techy screen…then maybe she could dial. That is, if she could get a signal way down here. Adam reached over and flicked something. The gadget lit up.
Yep, Adam’s phone had a signal. Probably cost a fortune.
Coward that she was, she dialed her messages first. There were four.
The first was her mom, worried about missing her at her dressing room after the performance and alarmed that there had been a wraith incident behind the building. Thank goodness no one had been hurt. Then she circled around to Annabella’s “date” the day before and wondered aloud if she was going to be able to meet the boy. Translation: how much do you like him? Annabella liked the
There were a couple messages from Venroy, a reminder about the reception, then a reprimand about leaving so early. Nothing much to do about that except apologize and grovel. Smooth everything over in time for the next performance in two days. Delete.
The next was her mom again, laughing and saying, “You’ve got to hear this!” There was a rustle of static, a
