Black by Sophie Lark

Author:Sophie Lark [Lark, Sophie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-12T16:00:00+00:00

10

The next morning, Black woke up with Holly still wrapped tight in his arms.

He could hear rain pattering against the window. It sounded oddly soothing. The cool gray light coming through the blinds, instead of appearing dreary and dull, seemed quite lovely to his eyes.

Oh my god, he thought. Am I becoming an optimist, too?

“Oh no!” Holly cried, rolling over and checking the time. “I forgot to set my alarm last night!”

She kissed him quickly on the cheek and hopped out of bed.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” she said. “And maybe bread for toast, though I can’t promise. Stay as long as you like! I’ve got to run.”

“It’s alright, I’ve got to go, too,” Black said, likewise getting up and going to retrieve his clothes from the dryer.

He didn’t have a clock to punch like Holly, but he had a lot he wanted to get done that day.

Once he’d gotten dressed, he poked his head around the corner to see Holly trying to brush her teeth and apply mascara at the same time.

“I’ll call you later if I find anything of interest to you or Morris,” he said.

“Thanks!” Holly said, around a mouthful of toothpaste. She spat, and added, “I’ll do the same.”

Black took the elevator down to the ground floor. He stepped out onto the street, turning his collar up against the rain. He had no umbrella, and he was wearing his good suit, but it wasn’t that much nicer than his usual suit, so he wasn’t too concerned about it.

He pulled out his phone and called Emerson.

As he suspected, Emerson was already in the office. He’d probably slept there, if he’d found a couple hours to lay down.

“What’s the update?” Black asked.

“Lab said it’s definitely the same bomb-maker—identical tool marks on the casing, and same chemical signature in the explosives. We’re no closer to figuring out who that person is, however.”

“How does it line up with the bombs the Citizens were using sixteen years ago?” Black asked.

“It doesn’t exactly. The type of device is similar, but it looks like a different craftsman. Close, but not identical.”

“That doesn’t mean much,” Black said. “Membership changes over. Terrorism is a young man’s game.”

“Right.”

“What about Clark?”

“Well, he’s pretty clean. You have to be to work in government. But he does have a history of activism. Got arrested for illegal protests outside a slaughterhouse in ‘96.”

“Anything violent?”

“Not exactly, but he also threw paint on some people, and he set loose about a hundred rats and rabbits from an animal testing lab.”

“Hmm. That might be true of a lot of people in government. You start by protesting the system, then move on to working on it from the inside. After all, bills have to be paid. Not a lot of money in throwing paint on socialites.”

“Well, that’s all I’ve got on him. Not so much as a parking ticket otherwise.”

“Thanks for checking,” Black said. “I know you’re swamped right now.”

“I’ll follow any lead at the moment,” Emerson said. “I wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but we’ve got nothing.

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