Page 31 of Ghosted in Arkadia
“Only let her have copies. She will delete originals,” James adds, with complete seriousness. “We are just as amazed as she is at how she accidentally destroys things.”
“It’s a gift,” I say with a smile and a shrug, but this time the well-worn joke lands a hit. My heart takes the blow, and I run through a blast of morality that calls my existence into question. No wonder my soulmate is a psychopath. It’s not like I am any better.
All I do is destroy things.
“I’ll take care of things, princess,” Killian says, getting up and heading to my desk. “First off, where’s your tablet?”
I look at my desk, pausing for a moment while I try to remember the last time I even used the damn thing. While I couldn’t recall, it didn’t matter, since the device is neatly tucked into the small ledge on my desk. I press the power button, unsure if it’s even charged, before handing it to Killian.
His fingers sail across the screen, faster than I’ve even seen from Tommy. He is the tech wizard of the group, just aboveCathy. Killian is better than us all as he hands the tablet back to me with a group of folder icons against the simple background.
“Can you open these folders? Or do you need me to do that too?” He smirks and I see myself in his glasses, mirroring the expression.
“I can open them. Just don’t blame me when the folders disappear along with everything inside them. We will both be just as confused how I managed it.”
Killian looks skeptical before glancing down to the tablet again. “Let me know when you’re through those.” He lands on confidence, giving a slight nod before returning to his desk.
I groan, but take the tablet in my hand and take a better look at the folder options available. The first folder is titledHive Bust Overview,and I don’t look at the others before pressing my finger to that section of the screen.
Files, documents, and photos open up for me to choose from. I notice a blueprint and click on it, finding an interactive map of the warehouse from the raid. My fingers move the image as I virtually travel through the lines to locate the second-floor stairwell. Part of me wants to continue the simulated path to the bathroom where Ghost waited for me, but it is too early in the morning to start that line of thinking.
A quick swipe takes me back to the previous screen, and this time I click on the image of the formal raid report written by Killian. It isn’t anything other than the typed words fed by Tommy when we all got back to the station and collaborated on the events between us. Despite knowing what happened, I start here.
I’m just trying to get to lunch.
As soon as lunch hits, I grab my purse, tuck it securely under my arm, and make it to the door before Captain comes through the threshold of his office. Rex is hot on my heels, panting, as he keeps up with me while I practically sprint toward the parking lot exit.
“Sneaking off for a quickie, princess?” Killian says, coming up quickly from behind. His large hand lands flat on the door a moment before I arrive, and he pushes it wide open before standing like a personal guard.
I stop and stare at the rain coming down in sheets. I can vaguely make out the Hellcat and know I will be soaked by the time I make it into the driver’s seat.
“Just trying to grab a fancy coffee.” I’m not sure if my voice can be heard over the pounding rain, so I yell. “Can you watch Rex while I grab one? It will take ten minutes, max.”
“Must be an important coffee,” Killian says, barely audible over the sound of the torrent. “Yeah, of course I can watch Rex,” he says louder.
“Rex,” I shout, looking down. “Stay with Killian. I’ll be right back.”
Rex groans before sitting back on his haunches.
“Thank fuck,” I breathe before looking up at Killian, still holding the door wide. Spray from the rain bounces onto the linoleum floor, which will make everyone’s shoes squeak. “Thank you,” I say to him directly before ducking down and then taking off at a sprint for the Hellcat.
“I need a favor and you won’t believe the hell I went through to get this.” I set the rain-soaked specialty coffee on Vicky’s desk. Her office is a rectangular room littered with various computer screens and towers. It’s not usually as packed full as today. There is barely enough room for me to even place the cup.
Vicky looks up at me, her blonde curly hair falling in tight coils all around her bronzed face. Her eyes are the color of amber and pierce my soul despite being housed behind a thick pane of glass from her cat eye frames. She arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and her cinnamon-colored lips pull into a tight line.
“But,” I pout, “coffee?”
“Does it look like one cup of coffee is enough for all this?” Vicky takes the cup from the table and uses it to gesture around the room before taking a sip. Her expression changes slightly and she looks back at me. “It is my favorite, though. Let’s see what you need first.”
“DNA extraction and hopefully, an ID,” I say, pulling the clear bag containing my underwear from my purse.
Vicky’s eyes widen.
“No questions. No trail. This isn’t for court.”
Vicky reaches up and delicately grabs the plastic bag, taking a quick moment to glance at the contents before grabbing a stack of paperwork to her right.
“No trail,” I reiterate, and she rolls her eyes.
