he was as relentless as the change of seasons.... He was Halloween in a parallel universe: Instead of a normal Joe with a mask on, he was a fiend behind a friendly, handsome face.
Veck looked just like his dad.
"Did you hear what I said."
At the sound of the kid's voice, Jose refocused. "Yeah, I did."
"So is this it for you and me," Veck said sharply. "You saying you don't want to work with me anymore? Assuming I still have a job?"
Jose went back to his paper-clip sketching. "Internal Affairs is going to give you a warning."
"Really?"
"I told them your head was where it needed to be," Jose said after a moment.
Veck cleared his throat. "Thanks, man."
Jose kept moving the clip around, the little scratching noise so very loud. "The pressure in this job is a killer." At this, he looked Veck right in the eye. "It is not going to get easier."
There was a pause. Then his partner murmured, "You don't believe what you told them, do you."
Jose shrugged. "Time will tell."
"Why the hell did you save my job, then?"
"I guess I feel that you should have a chance to right your wrongs - even if they're not really yours."
What Jose kept to himself was that it wasn't the first time he'd taken on a partner who had things to work out on the job, so to speak.
Yeah, and look at how Butch O'Neal had turned out: Missing. Presumed dead. In spite of whatever Jose had thought he'd heard on that 911 tape.
"I am not my father, Detective. I swear to you. Just because I was being professional when I hit the guy - "
Jose leaned forward, his eyes boring into the kid's. "How did you know that was what bothered me about the attack. How did you know the calm was the thing."
As Veck blanched, Jose eased back again. After a bit, he shook his head. "It doesn't mean you're a killer, son. And just because you fear something doesn't mean it's true. But I think you and I need to be real clear with each other. Like I said, I don't think it's fair for you to be held to a different standard because of your pops - but if you have another outburst like that over anything - and I mean parking tickets" - he nodded toward the Starbucks mug - "bad coffee, too much starch in your shirt ... the goddamn photocopier ... it's game over. Do we understand each other? I'm not going to let someone dangerous wear a badge - or a gun."
Abruptly, Veck went back to staring at his monitor. On it was the face of a pretty blond nineteen-year-old who had disappeared about two weeks prior. No body yet, but Jose was willing to bet she was dead by now.
After nodding, Veck picked up the coffee and sat back into his chair. "Deal."
Jose exhaled and put the paper clip where it belonged, in the little clear box with the magnetic rim. "Good. Because we've got to find this guy before he takes anyone else."
Chapter Thirty-nine
THIRTY - NINE
Traveling south on "the Northway," as Manuel called it, Payne's eyes were starved for the world around her. Everything was a source of fascination, from the streaming lines of traffic on either side of the road, to the vast black heavens above, to the bracing night chill that rushed into the car's cockpit every time she opened her window.
Which was about every five minutes. She just loved the change in temperature - warm to cool, warm to cool.... It was so totally unlike the Sanctuary, where everything was monoclimatic. Plus there was the great blast of air that blew into her face and tangled her hair and made her laugh.
And then, of course, every time she did it, she looked over at Manuel and found that he was smiling.
"You haven't asked where we're going," he said, after her most recent shutting.
In truth, it did not matter. She was with him and they were free and alone and that was more than enough -
You scrub him. At the end of the night, you scrub him and come back here. Alone.
Payne kept her wince to herself: Wrath, son of Wrath, had the kind of voice that went with the likes of thrones and crowns and black daggers hung about the chest. And the royal tone 'twas not window dressing. He expected to be obeyed, and Payne was under no misapprehension that just because she was the Scribe Virgin's