Storm?
A guy who lives to fight. That’s who.
Elizabeth could’ve either fallen on her sword or waved the white flag. At least, that was the conventional way to look at it.
Screw conventional.
CHAPTER 52
“WHAT THE hell was that?” asked Elizabeth.
She was hopping mad. Literally. The second we reached the sidewalk outside Pritchard’s townhouse she was right up in my face, rocking up and down on the small heels of her flats so fast she actually got airborne a few times.
“That was a compromise,” I said. “Pritchard doesn’t have to look at you for a few days, but you’re not actually suspended.”
“I was standing right there. I know what you said.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said. “That’s the problem.”
“This isn’t going to be a gender thing, is it? I know you can fight your own battles.”
“Then why didn’t you let me? And where do you get off promising Pritchard that I won’t go hunting for this Eli guy? That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“No, you’re not,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I promised you wouldn’t.”
Elizabeth raised her hands up like she was squeezing a basketball really hard. Or my neck. She officially wanted to strangle me now. “For Christ’s sake, how many of those whiskeys did you have back at the restaurant?” she asked.
Not nearly enough.
“The reason you won’t be tracking down Eli is because that’s what I’m going to be doing,” I said.
“So why can’t I help you? We’ll do it together.”
“Sure, like old times,” I said. “Except you’re going to be too busy doing something else. I need to borrow you for a couple of days.”
“Borrow me?”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“You’re right,” she said. “This is going to be a gender thing.”
Elizabeth folded her arms and stared at me, waiting for my witty retort. There wasn’t one. I was too preoccupied with going over the checklist inside my head, the things I could and couldn’t tell her. I was having a hard time. This from a guy who memorized pi out to fifty digits when he was eleven. Just to see if I could.
Yeah, I know. I was a weird kid.
Elizabeth had been assigned to investigate the death of Professor Darvish. She was then officially taken off the case, only to unofficially continue the investigation on her own with me in tow. We had narrowed down to five the possibilities for who that mystery woman was with Darvish, and then I went off to get Julian’s help. I had assumed the woman was CIA, which meant Elizabeth couldn’t know her identity. I had assumed wrong, though. My meeting with Foxx in Chinatown had convinced me as much.
Now it gets tricky.
I could tell Elizabeth about Sadira Yavari. I just couldn’t tell her about Darvish. He was CIA. An informant, at least. An asset. No matter how much I trusted Elizabeth, there were some secrets I simply couldn’t tell her.
Of course, that’s what got you into trouble with Tracy, isn’t it? You ruined everything, you genius. What are you going to do?
“Earth to Dylan,” said Elizabeth. “Are you there?”
I snapped out of it. “I’m sorry. What was I saying?”
“That you needed to borrow me.”
Again, no witty retort. In fact, no anything. I simply stared at her until she was done doing what she always does in her head: figure things out.
Three, two, one …
“You know which woman was with Darvish!” she said.
I nodded. Yes, I did. “Her name is Sadira Yavari,” I said. “And she’s about to be your new best friend.”
CHAPTER 53
DIVIDE AND conquer. Or as the Romans first said it, Divide et impera.
I beat Elizabeth out the door the next morning by a couple of hours. Mayor Edso Deacon sleeps even less than Trump. His Honor’s always up before the sun.
Of course, the ancillary benefit of that was that I didn’t have to sit around and wallow in the absence of Tracy and Annabelle. It was so stupid of me to look into Annabelle’s room before going to bed. Her empty crib was all I could see, even when I closed my eyes.
Okay, Deacon, what’s on your agenda this morning? Surely you want a face-to-face with your guy Eli after his tip nearly got Elizabeth killed. Lucky for me you don’t trust phone calls. Who knows who could be listening in?
If the meeting was going to happen, it wasn’t going to be at City Hall or anywhere else requiring an official log of the mayor’s whereabouts. Deacon would never be so sloppy. Not a chance.
No, I was looking for