Page 7 of Brother's Keeper

Entering and exiting primarily through the parking garage meant I didn’t visit the lobby often, but I did enjoy its splendor. Marble floorsstretched in all directions, echoing with footsteps as people traversed the room. The soaring ceiling was punctuated by massive, brass chandeliers that gave off a warm glow.

My jacket fit stiff today, binding across my shoulders from the hasty wash and dry. Served me right for not sparing time for the drycleaners, and it might have cost me a new suit.

I popped open the energy drink with a crack and hiss, earning looks from staff members as I passed the trickling wall fountain. Since the speedy distribution of the plague cure, office workers had returned. Too bad because I liked the feel of the ghost town. There were fewer people to stare at or comment about the former criminal in their midst.

Alleged criminal. Tried and released criminal. But the gang tat on my hand and the fact that I’d made no effort to alter my appearance sent a not-so-subtle message. I had no interest in hiding or—as investigator Tobin pointed out—changing. Which was the root cause of my conflict with Holland Lyle.

The carbonated drink smelled like armpits and tasted about the same, but I wasn’t in it for enjoyment. This was a choice made of need after a restless night with the lull of the docked boat failing to rock me to sleep.

I ducked under the glass staircase to the other side and nearly collided with Holland. She spun around with a clipboard hugged to her chest and a pen stuck in her bun of platinum hair.

“Oh, Fitch, I’m glad to see you.”

“You are?”

When I caught sight of my reflection in the lenses ofher sunglasses, I gave a brief thought to my hair. Getting ready in the claustrophobic nightmare of the houseboat’s bathroom was a challenge, and I still needed a trim. Between that and my suit coat straining across my shoulders, I looked as off my game as I felt.

Holland nodded. “There’s been a break in the case.”

My heart stuttered.

“The case” was a topic I’d failed to avoid for the past two weeks. After the vote that, predictably, did not go Maximus’s way, questions were raised. Grimm—disguised as Maximus—did his best to put rumors of foul play to rest, but even he couldn’t hide the fact that five of seven missing people somehow cast ballots. The missing persons cases drew Holland’s attention and had been looped into a political corruption scheme complete with voter fraud and…

“We think they were murdered.” Holland completed my thought for me. “And that the Bloody Hex may have been involved.”

I stood, staring at her while silently thanking whoever had decided fishnet tights were business professional attire.

“Walk with me.” Holland gave a wave before taking off toward the Investigative Department.

Leaving behind the lavish fixtures and splashes of green from immaculate houseplants, we ventured toward the business end of the building. White walls and halls gave the space an almost clinical feel. People passed infrequently, chasing us with stares. I wasn’t a new fixture in the Capitol’s day-to-day, but many of these had recently returned, which made me a novelty all overagain.

As I kept pace with Holland, I affected nonchalance by tipping the energy drink can to my lips. “The Hex, huh?” I took a noisy slurp. “Politicians aren’t their usual fare. Neither is discretion. If they killed your missing people, you would’ve found the bodies by now.”

The last time I’d seen what remained of Maximus’s hit list, they were a lifeless pile in a warehouse downtown. I had rushed away from that scene, but I assumed the gang had body disposal well in hand. Between Vinton’s Frankenstein experiments and Maggie’s voracious appetite, five corpses would last three days max.

“Notyourusual fare, I agree,” Holland replied, oblivious to my masked panic. “Or your M.O. But not all of the Bloody Hex members like to show off their kills.”

I thought to protest the accusation but decided against it. I was keeping enough secrets without insisting on my own innocence. That song and dance was getting old.

“Or maybe they’re changing tactics. Evolving.” The investigator shrugged with her back to me as we rounded a turn through the winding halls.

“You keeping your old man in the loop on this?” I muttered into the mouth of my drink can.

More likemyold man, as he fancied himself. Surely Grimm would do at least as much as Maximus had to keep the bloodhounds off my trail. But moments like this made me wonder. If Maximus had planned to lop off my head the moment I finished his assassination lineup, why bother keeping the investigators at bay? Let them get thesatisfaction of catching me in the act, then revel in their own glory.

“Not yet,” Holland said. “It’s only a theory. But, of course, I’ll fill him in the moment we have something concrete.”

“We.”So, she and I would be hitting the gritty streets, unearthing whatever evidence I’d left behind at seven crime scenes. Eight if you counted Lock n’ Roll Self Storage, which may have been the treasure trove a savvy investigator needed to hang the blame around my neck. That was without mentioning interrogating witnesses whose memories might be jogged when they were face to face with the culprit.

“Today, we’re going over the division of labor,” Holland explained. “I know I said you wouldn’t be working with the other investigators, but this case is large and significant enough to require a group effort. Since you are our resident expert on the Bloody Hex, I believe you should be a shared asset.”

“I’m surprisingly good at sharing, given the right circumstances,” I said with a smirk.

“What was that?” Holland’s head whipped around. Her look of scrutiny made me wonder whether she truly hadn’t heard or was daring me to repeat myself.

“Expert is a much better title than consultant,” I replied instead. “Can I get it on a nametag? Or business card?”

We entered the bullpen where Tobin, Felix, and Vesper held various poses around a steel tanker desk. None looked happy, Tobin least of all, dressed in a dull gray suit that seemed indicative of his mood. Felix stoodaside, spinning his Magic 8 Ball on one finger. Vesper sat between the men in a desk chair, her long legs crossed at the knee in red satin slacks. Felix alone offered a sheepish wave to our approach.

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