Memories Can Kill by Vanessa Muir

Author:Vanessa Muir [Muir, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hidden Sphinx
Published: 2019-10-18T04:00:00+00:00

11

Charlie sat at the desk, Eli’s chair next to hers empty, and searched up Kegan Bolryder for the fiftieth time in a row. It didn’t yield any other results, not ones that were different from those she’d found the day before.

And the lack of answers only cemented what Levi had told her the night before. A pseudo-person used by the State as a scapegoat. Unless, of course, they already had a real citizen handy as they’d had with Jones, her ex-partner.

But what did it mean? And how had they gotten real people to take those names? And why would they protect the person who had murdered Shamood? Unless, there’d been some internal rivalry between the members of the State? The Councilors?

It was the best concept she could come up with, but there were still so few answers for her.

She needed to get her hands on the suspect. If she could find him, question him, she’d be able to tear the case open. The opposite of what the State would want if they were somehow behind this.

But then, why had they hired her?

Charlie tapped on the desk’s in-built tablet and tried again.

“Spade,” Boss Ink’s gruff voice sounded behind her.

She looked up and found him, covered in tattoos, sweaty and beady-eyed. He nodded to her, then gave Eli’s empty seat a glance.

“You’re here early,” he said.

“I’ve got work to do, Boss.”

“I know,” he said.

“You know?”

“I was contacted by the Council, by Nathaniel himself. Let’s talk, Spade.” Boss Ink placed a thick-fingered hand on her shoulder. “You’ll need help.”

She couldn’t argue with him without inciting his anger or suspicion. Working at SSG was like walking on the edge of a blade, one slip and...

Charlie pushed up from her seat and followed her superior down the hall and into his office. She sat in front of his chromed-out desk, watched as he seated himself and helped himself to a pungent cigar.

He didn’t light it but chewed on the end a few times, then placed it in an ashtray. He stared at it for a moment, tapping his nails on the desk’s surface. Finally, he cleared his throat and met her gaze.

“You realize how big this is, don’t you, Spade?”

“What, boss?”

“Don’t play that game with me,” he said and drew a handkerchief from his top pocket. He swiped it across his brow, refolded it, then tucked it away again. “You know what I’m talking about. Absalon Shamood. Dead.”

“I was told the case would not be disclosed to anyone.”

“Except to the SSG,” Ink said. “To me and the other higher-up operatives. We’ve been told to give you all the permissions, all the support you might need to push this one through.” He paused. “If you do badly, we all do badly. It will reflect on us, on the SSG.”

Charlie folded her hands in her lap.

“It’s got to come out some time, the fact that Absalom Shamood is... dead. And when it does, people will want an answer. They’ll want blood, and you’ve got to give it to them.

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