Giving me a beautiful smile, Denon turned, as confident and power-hungry as when he had come in. Jenks was a blur of wings and anger. "Don't listen to him, Rachel. This wasn't your fault. It couldn't have been."
I looked at the covered corpse. Please, God. Let it have nothing to do with me. "Yeah, I know," I said, hoping he was right. There was no way. My only connection to her was that fish, and that had been settled. She had been Mr. Ray's secretary, not responsible for it at all. And besides, the fish hadn't been Mr. Ray's to begin with.
Glenn put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and we walked slowly to the double doors to allow Denon time to leave. The reception room held only Iceman and a fading conversation filtering in from the hall. I waited while Glenn exchanged a few words with the orderly, promising to come back for the paperwork after escorting me home. Vanessa's body wouldn't be released now until murder had been ruled out, but I wasn't finding any satisfaction in it. The I.S. was going to be really ticked if I blew one of their cover-ups. Goody, goody.
Tugging my bag back up my shoulder, I waved to the edgy Iceman and headed out with Glenn. Jenks was silent. Glenn had my coffee in one hand, my elbow in the other. My thoughts were on Vanessa while he guided me unseeing through the upper levels of the building and back into the sun. I didn't say a word all the way home, and the conversation between Jenks and Glenn lagged. In their silence I thought I heard agreement that I might have been responsible in some way for the woman's death. But I couldn't. I just couldn't have been.
I didn't look up from the dash until I felt the soothing shade of my street. Jenks muttered something and slipped out the open window before Glenn brought the car to a stop. I glanced up then, finding the hazy morning slipping into the time of day I was usually just waking.
"Thanks for coming out with me," Glenn said, and I turned to him, surprised at the honest relief in his eyes. "Officer Denon gives me the creeps," he added, and I managed a smile.
"He's a pushover," I said, gathering my bag onto my lap.
Glenn pulled his eyebrows up. "If you say so. At least Vanessa's body won't be destroyed. And now I'll have access to any record I want until human involvement is ruled out. I think I can take it from here."
I huffed. "Then why did you have me come out, Mr. FIB Agent?"
He grinned to show his teeth. "Jenks found the needle marks, and you distracted Denon and got him to back down. A court order?" he said, chuckling. I shrugged, and Glenn added, "He's afraid of you, you know."
"Me? I don't think so." I fumbled for the door handle. Crap, I was tired. "I'm still sending you a bill," I said, checking the time on the dash's clock.
"Uh, Rachel," Glenn said before I got out, "I've another reason I came over."
My motion to leave hesitated, and, looking unhappy, he reached under the seat and handed me a thick folder held closed with a rubber band.
"What is it?" I questioned, and he gestured at me to open it. Setting it atop my lap, I rolled the rubber band off and leafed through the file. It was mostly photocopied newspaper clippings and reports from the FIB and I.S. concerning theft crimes spanning the entire North American continent and a few overseas in the UK and Germany: rare books, magical artifacts, jewelry with historical significance... I felt myself go cold despite the July heat as I realized that this was Nick's file.
"Call me if he contacts you," Glenn said, his voice with a curious tightness to it. He didn't like asking me, but he was.
I swallowed, unable to look at him. "He went off the Mackinac Bridge," I said, feeling unreal. "You think he survived that?" I knew he had. He had called me when he realized he'd swiped the fake Were artifact from me and I had the real one.
A band fixed around my chest and squeezed. Crap. That's what Newt was looking for. Shit, shit, shit - this was why Vanessa was murdered? The I.S. knew I'd possessed the focus once, but they and everyone else thought it had gone over the bridge with Nick Sparagmos. Did the someone know that it had survived and was now killing Weres to find out who had it? Oh, God. David.
"I want this one, Rachel," Glenn said, jerking me back to reality. "I know it's Nick."
I felt like I was wrapped in cotton, and I knew my eyes were too wide when I turned to him. "I guessed he was a thief. I didn't know until he left. I didn't want to believe it," I said.
Soft pity was in his eyes. "I know you didn't."
My pulse leapt, and I took a fast breath. Glenn touched my shoulder, probably thinking it was the shock of finding out for sure that Nick was a thief that had my hands shaking, not that I knew what Newt wanted and why Vanessa had been murdered. Damn it, she'd been drugged and then murdered because she hadn't known anything about it. Telling Glenn wouldn't do any good. This was an Inderland concern, and he would only get himself killed. I had to call David. Take it back before Newt tracked it to him. He couldn't fight a demon.
Like I can?
I reached for the door latch, my mind whirling. "Thanks for the ride, Glenn," I said, my manners on autopilot.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, putting a dark hand on my arm. "Are you going to be okay?"
I forced myself to meet his eyes. "Yeah, I'll be fine," I lied. "This threw me, is all."
His hand slipped away, and I slid the folder onto the seat between us and got out to stand unsteadily on the sidewalk. My eyes went to the house where Ceri lived. She was probably asleep, but as soon as she woke up, I was going to talk to her.
"Rachel..."
Maybe she knew a way to destroy the focus.
"Rachel?"
Sighing, I leaned to look back into the car. Glenn was extending the folder to me, shoulder muscles bunched from the weight of it. "Keep it," he said, and when I moved to protest, he added, "They're copies. You should know what he's done... in any case."
Hesitating, I took them, feeling its heavy bulk pulling me down into the sidewalk. "Thanks," I said, not caring. I shut the door and headed for the church.
"Rachel!" he called, and I jerked to a stop and turned. "The visitor tags?" he prompted.
Oh, yeah. I came back and set the file on the roof of the car while I removed the tags and handed them to him through the window.
"Promise me you won't drive until you finish your driver's ed," he said in parting.
"Sure thing," I muttered, walking away. It was out again. The world knew the focus hadn't been lost, and as soon as someone realized I still had it, I was going to be in seriously deep shit.