As Jim stood a little ways off from Reilly and Veck, he made like a boulder and tried desperately not to overhear every single word they were saying to each other. And when they stepped in close, he turned his head away.
There were advantages to going invisi, but he was so not into the voyeurism thing.
And he was not pleased with this emo delay. They were looking for his Sissy - the lovey-dovey shit could wait until they found her or figured out that the location was a sham.
Stepping off the rock he'd been perched on, he landed in a puddle, the murky water splashing up on his leathers and his combats, but making no sound thanks to the little force-field he'd thrown up around himself. Man, this quarry was like something out of an old Star Trek episode, just without the red shirts and the transporters -
Abruptly, warmth bloomed on the side of his face, and the sensation brought his head up and to the right. A shaft of sunlight was streaming down on him, hitting him on the temple and the jaw.
What the hell, he thought, realizing it was coming from the wrong direction.
Frowning, he moved back and pivoted around, following the path of the lemon yellow stripe ... which led into the cave behind him.
Something flashed deep inside its dark belly.
"Oh, shit," Jim whispered as a premonition washed over him like cold rain.
Bracing himself, he walked to the ragged opening. No need to step aside; the illumination went right through him as if he weren't there.
The aperture was fairly large, about six feet tall, maybe three feet wide, although there was an internal turn almost immediately, so the question was, what had thrown the reflection ?
Entering, the sunlight followed him, making him think of Dog in its quiet, comforting companionship. And he didn't stop to think about how the illumination managed to wrap around the corner or wonder why it seemed to direct him ...
"Oh ... God ..." He had to grab onto the rock wall to hold himself up as he stared at what the light had pulled from the darkness: Back against the fall wall of the cave, wrapped in a rough tarp, there was a body.
Lying there on the ground.
Like discarded garbage.
The glowing beam coalescd over the bundle at one end, and that was when he saw the length of hair.
Clean, it would have been blond.
Jim closed his eyes and collapsed against the rough flank of the cave. The sense that so much had been leading to this moment - shit, that maybe everything had - was like a blaring horn behind his head, going off incessantly, deafening him.
There are no coincidences, he heard Nigel saying.
When a hand landed on his shoulder, he wheeled around at the same time he took out his crystal dagger.
Immediately, he lowered his weapon. "Jesus, Adrian - you want to get stabbed?"
Bad question to ask on a day like today.
And the other angel didn't reply. He just looked over to the light that floated above Sissy's head, a celestial crown of gold to mark her remains. In a low voice, he said, "I wanted to help you with your dead. You helped me with mine."
Jim stared at the other guy for a number of heartbeats. "Thanks, man."
Adrian nodded once, as if they had taken and exchanged a vow of some kind, and the accord they reached made Jim wonder ... If everything had a purpose, had Sissy died for this moment between the two of them? Had this been the reason they'd lost Eddie? Because as Adrian's dead eyes met his, the pair of them were in the same place, the two hotheads realigned by tragedies that were unrelated, and exactly the same.
Instead of going to his girl, Jim offered his palm to his partner. And when the angel accepted it, he pulled Adrian up against him and held the bastard hard. Over the guy's shoulder, he focused on Sissy.
Weighing the balance of the interests of the war against all who had lost the girl, as well as the head space where Adrian was at right now, it was a tough call whether those two losses were worth this unexpected unity: As far as Jim could see, the shit was fifty-fifty at best, with only a hair weighing in favor of the battle with Devina.
Except sometimes the straw broke the camel's back. And families lost their daughters. And best friends didn't come home at the end of the night.
And life didn't seem worth living.
But you went on anyway.
When they stepped back, Adrian put his finger on Sissy's necklace. "She is your girl."
Jim nodded. "And it's time to get her out of here."
Holy shit, Reilly thought. Veck was looking like he was going to kiss her.
And she was feeling like she was going to let him.
And then there was the "love" thing.
As she went stock-still, she wasn't sure what to say in response. She was falling in love with him, too. But she could barely handle the concept in her mind. Saying it out loud was way too naked.
There were other ways of replying, however.
Just as she leaned in toward his mouth, he eased down, heading for hers -
Someone appeared on the rock outcropping above them. Someone big, who loomed tall and blocked out the sun. As she jumped back from her partner, her immediate thought was, Oh, God, please let it not be anyone from HQ -
Her wih came true, unfortunately: It was the "FBI agent."
Veck moved so fast, she didn't know she'd been put behind a human shield until her hands rested on his back. Which was a gallant move, but she didn't need the cover. Tucking her hand into her coat and finding the butt of her weapon - just as he had done - she stepped back out with her gun pointed upward.
Except ... the man staring down at them didn't seem aggressive in the slightest. He looked ruined. Positively destroyed.
"Sissy Barten is right there." He pointed behind himself. "Against the back wall of the next cave."
He's not going to hurt us, she thought with a conviction that came from the soul.
Redirecting the muzzle of her nine to the ground, she frowned. Around his body, there was a subtle glow, a radiance that might be explained by the fact that he was in a shaft of sunshine - except, wait a minute, he wasn't. It was too late in the day for where he was standing.
"Are you all right?" she heard herself ask the man.
His haunted eyes locked on her. "No. I'm not."
Veck spoke up, sharp and demanding. "How do you know where the body is."
"I just saw it."
"I called the FBI. They've never heard of you."
"Only the current administration." The tone was bored. "Are you going to go help her or waste time - "
"Impersonating a federal officer is a felony."
"So get out your cuffs and chase my ass - just come this way."
As the guy jumped off the rock and disappeared, Veck glared over his shoulder. "You stay here."
"To hell with that."
Something in her expression must have told him that arguing would be nothing but a time suck, because he cursed a blue streak - and got moving. Together, they scrambled up the boulder in front of them, surmounting it in clawing grabs. When they got to the top ...
Jim Heron, or whoever he was, had disappeared.
There was, however, the opening to another large cave.
"Call for backup," Veck said, leaping down as he got out his flashlight. "I'm going in - and I need you to cover me from out here."
"Roger that." She palmed up her radio, but then barked at him, "Stop! You have to watch for footprints. Approach from the edges, okay?"
He looked back at her. "Good call."
"And be careful."
"You have my word."
Leading with the flashlight and his gun, he stepped into the cave, his broad shoulders barely fitting through the entrance. Almost immediately, he must have come to a corner, because the glow dimmed and then got cut off.
As she called for their colleagues and received confirmation that the others were on their way, she carefully lowered herself down to the muddy patch of ground that was the cave's welcome mat. She knew it was going to take some time for the others to arrive, and prayed that her instincts were right about that big blond man who evidently wasn't worried about lying or misrepresenting himself - and yet who seemed crushd when it came to Sissy Barten.
If anything happened to Veck on her watch, she'd never forgive herself -
"What ... the hell?" she murmured.
Reilly frowned and sank down onto her haunches. Smack in the middle of the patch of soggy dirt, the impressions from where Veck had landed were like moon-craters. Likewise, around the rim, his path to the opening was deep and obvious, the sunken impression of smooth-soled shoes dominating the ground and announcing that a man of some two hundred pounds had been by.
Rising up, Reilly braced her foot on a ledge and stretched high to look where Veck and she had crossed over. On the top of the shelf of stone, there were two sets of wet prints, hers and Veck's. That was it.
Surveying the expanse of the slope, she shook her head. No way Jim Heron or whoever he was could have gotten down here without having his feet get soaked. And no way he could have stood where he had without leaving damp prints behind, as she and Veck had done.
What the hell was going on here?
Behind her, Veck reappeared at the cave opening. "It's Sissy Barten. He's right."
Reilly swallowed hard as she got back down. "Anything else in there?"
"Not that I can see. Did you call us in?"
"Yes. Are you sure it's her?"
"I didn't touch anything, but there's blond hair showing and the body is where Kroner said it would be." Veck's brows dropped. "What's wrong?"
"Were there any other footprints on the floor of that cave?"
"Let me check." He disappeared. Came back. "Not really. But it's not the best surface for capturing them. It's relatively dry, with little soil depth. What are you - "
"It's like he just dropped out of the sky."
"Who? Heron?"
"There's no evidence he's been here, Veck. Where are his muddy footprints? On the ground? Up there?"
"Wait, aren't there - "
"Nothing."
He frowned and glanced around. "Son of a bitch."
"My feelings exactly."
Off in the distance, she heard the other officers approaching so she cupped her hands and called out, "Over here! We're over here!"
Maybe someone else could make sense of this. Because she was coming up with nothing ... and evidently, the same was true of Veck.
