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Nightmare Stalkers (Magic Trackers Book 2) Page 8
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“Don’t use your phone,” I said. “Who knows what kind of charm he put on it.”
“No charms,” Rodgers said. “That would be illegal.”
“So would detaining us for no reason,” I said.
“We were just having a friendly chat,” Rodgers said. “And a few words of warning.”
He opened the door for us.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said.
We followed him upstairs to the station lobby, where bright glass doors led into the busy city streets.
“You sure you don’t want to tell me anything?” he asked.
We said nothing.
“Look, I get it,” he said. “Black folks don’t want to talk to the police. I understand that on a primal level. Trust me. From a brother to a sister, if you’re not guilty, you don’t have anything to worry about. You two look like honest ladies. You don’t have a criminal air about you. That’s why I’m so damn curious. You look like the kind of ladies that don’t like it when people get killed. You look reasonable. You don’t want people to get killed, do you?”
“Don’t answer his question,” I said.
“Why not?” Rodgers asked. “It’s a fair question.”
“It’s bait,” I said. “You have our contact information if you need it. Do me a favor and give me a heads up the next time you want to talk so I can let my attorney know.”
“Be happy to,” Rodgers said, opening the door into the snowy sunshine. “It would be my pleasure.”
We started down the concrete steps to the street.
“Ladies,” he said. “It’s been great. You come again now real soon.”
“Don’t bet on it,” I said.
Rodgers stood on the steps, watching us as we hurried down the street.
Destiny and I waited until we were several blocks away.
And then we ran.
16
“Aisha, we’re done,” Destiny said, pacing back and forth in an alley.
We were several blocks away from the station, away from Rodgers’s piercing gaze.
The fact that we were hiding in an alley didn't help our criminal profiles.
But we had nowhere else to go, and this shaded place was the only place to decompress.
“We’re done,” she said, putting her hands on her head. “And it’s my fault.”
“We’re fine,” I said.
“No, we’re fucked!” Destiny said. “I need to fly. I need to release some steam.”
She transformed into a falcon, but I grabbed her legs, pulling her down. She flapped against me furiously, but I took her under my arms.
“Stop it!” I said. “You can't fly away every time bad things happen!”
Destiny pushed me away and landed on the ground, staring at me with her golden falcon eyes.
Then she transformed into her human form, down on her knees in the snow, gasping.
I hugged her.
“I should have never said anything on the train,” she said. “I can’t believe I said people were going to die. Me and my big mouth.”
“I crossed between the subway cars,” I said.
“Me too!” Destiny said. “That makes me guilty of two crimes compared to you. Did you see the way he looked at me?”
“Destiny, he’s a cop,” I said. “That’s what they do: try to intimidate you.”
My efforts to calm her down weren’t working.
But the truth was, I was scared too.
My heart was racing. My adrenaline was pumping.
I paced back and forth.
I wasn't about to go to jail over something I didn't do.
Had to think.
Think, Aisha, think!
“We've got a couple things going for us,” I said, snapping my fingers.
“First, we didn't commit any crimes,” I said. “Second, we’re not the ones who are killing people at the terminals.”
“So?” Destiny asked.
“So?” I repeated angrily. “That's a big deal, cuz. It means they can't pin anything on us.”
“Umm, hello!” Destiny said. “You realize that we are the only suspects in his investigation so far, right?”
“So he says,” I said. “I don't trust him.”
“Annnnnnnnnd,” Destiny said, gesturing wide, “we’re black. Case closed. We’re going to jail.”
“We’re not going to jail!” I said. “We've got to calm down and think.”
“I've been thinking,” Destiny said, “and I think we should drop Allegra’s case and go back to the shop. This isn't worth it.”
“I thought about that too,” I said. “But that's not what we’re about. We can't just give up.”
“I agree that we shouldn't give up,” Destiny said. “And it pains me. It does. But maybe we should have gotten the FBI involved first. Maybe we got ourselves in something deeper than we thought.”
She was probably right.
But I thought of Allegra.
I imagined us dumping her case, leaving her to fend for herself. I imagined her dreaming more deaths, and then I imagined the deaths happening, and happening, and happening, until the entire city was gone, and there was no one left to fight.
And that wasn't a world I wanted to live in.
“Destiny, remember when you were in seventh grade and that girl Keisha kept messing with you?” I asked.
“I'll never forget Keisha,” Destiny said. “She was a bitch.”
“True,” I said. “And do you remember the day she stopped bullying you?”
“Cuz I whooped her ass,” Destiny said.
“You came home so excited,” I said. “It was as if you conquered your biggest fear. There was nothing in this world that could scare you again. You woke up. And you stayed strong. Remember?”
“It's not the same,” Destiny said, folding her arms. “Keisha wasn't the FBI. Nice try.”
“No, no, stay with me,” I said. “Remember what happened the next day, right?”
“Keisha started bullying someone else,” Destiny said.
“And you got so mad that you fought her again,” I said, laughing. “And got suspended for a week.”
“Yeah, so?” Destiny asked.
“You ever think about the girl you defended and what her life would have been like if someone hadn't stood up to protect her?”
Destiny fell silent.
“That's what this is about,” I said. “This isn't about being safe. This has never been about being safe. This is about helping people. It's about life, Destiny, and what you, me, and Darius are gonna leave behind.”
Destiny turned away.
“Don't tell me you didn't know it was dangerous when you signed up to work with me,” I said.
“I knew,” Destiny said. “I guess it's real now.”
“Come on,” I said. “We've been in worse situations, remember?”
“I just got deja vu,” Destiny said. “Why do I get the feeling this isn't the last time I'm going to hear that?”
“Because it's not,” I said. “But we've got to stand strong. It's what Nana would have wanted. No, it's what she would have demanded.”
“A’ight,” Destiny said. “What do we do now? Should we call Darius?”
“No, that’s too dangerous,” I said.
I peeked out of the alley. Aside from a crowd of people, there were no police.
“We have to operate under the radar now,” I said. “If Rodgers gets in our way again, it'll be trouble.”
“Amen,” Destiny said.
“We’ll swing by the shop, drop your phone off,” I said. “Knowing Rodgers, he probably bugged it with a tracking charm. And if he gets a warrant to search your phone, that will divert them to the shop first. After we drop your phone off, we go and see Darius and Allegra. For all we know, they’re still waiting on the results of the MRI. What's the time?”
“Twelve thirty,” Destiny said.
“Then let's get moving,” I said.
17
We hopped the bus to our neig
hborhood.
We kept to ourselves and didn't say anything.
All the while, Destiny’s phone kept vibrating.
Darius.
He kept sending messages.
Where are you?
Tell me you're alive.
Please, text me!!!!
Every message stabbed me in the heart just a little.
“Can't I just say something?” Destiny asked. “To let him know we’re alive?”
“You won't be able to reply without him asking you more questions,” I said. “I hate it too, Destiny. But let's stay low, okay?”
She nodded and tucked her phone away.
It vibrated again and she closed her eyes.
The last thing we wanted was for Rodgers to pin more information on us. Every message and every word would be used against us.
Greater good.
That was what I told myself.
Keep my cousin on the verge of nervous breakdown for the greater good.
I felt like the worst cousin on the planet.
We hopped off a few blocks from our house and started the walk back to the shop.
The snow had let up some, and the sun shone through a thin veil of clouds.
We rounded the corner to the shop.
The street was clear, filled with the same usual snow-covered cars.
“At least there's no police watching us,” Destiny said. “I seriously expected to see a cop car when we came around the corner.”
“If they were going to watch us,” I said, “it would be the FBI, which means the cars would be unmarked.”
“You sure know how to kill a girl’s hopes and dreams,” Destiny said.
“Any time,” I said. “Seriously, did you not pay attention to the detective shows we used to watch when we were kids?”
Destiny didn't have much common sense. All her smarts were the book kind. Give that girl a math problem and she could manhandle it. Give her a philosophical theory, and she could write a paper.
But when it came to the street?
Naw. She just didn't have it. I seriously don't think she could survive one day by herself. Thinking about her going to university gave me sudden anxiety.
“In and out,” I said. “We’ll exit through the back door.”
The shop, a turn-of-the-century brownstone, was quiet. Just like we left it.
I jogged up the front steps and slid my key in the lock.
Suddenly, I felt something.
Like eyes.
Watching me.
I turned around, scanned the cars on the street.
Nothing.
They were all covered in snow.
Yet I still felt that strange feeling on the back of my neck.
I rushed into the shop and motioned for Destiny to come in.
“Did you feel it too?” Destiny asked.
I peeked through the blinds on the door.
There was no one.
Yet it felt like there was someone.
“Let's go,” I said. “Something doesn't feel right.”
Destiny threw her phone on our receiving table.
She checked the mail in the mail slot next to the front door and rifled through some envelopes.
“Damn,” she said. “I still haven’t gotten anything from Lakeway.”
“It’ll come,” I said.
She shrugged and sighed.
We passed through the front lobby to the back sun porch, where our bikes were stacked and stored for the winter.
Destiny grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me down.
Through the blinds, we spotted a black car sitting in the back alley.
There was a man inside.
I couldn't tell what he was doing in the car, but it was pretty obvious.
“Looks like an undercover cop to me,” I said.
“So much for going out through the back,” Destiny said.
“Or the front,” I said.
“We can’t stay here,” Destiny said.
I thought for a moment.
If we went out of the front, someone was watching.
If we went out the back, someone was watching…
“I say we go out the front,” I said.
“I say we go out the back,” Destiny said. “We can lose the cop in a couple of blocks, kind of like they do in the movies.”
“And they can use that against us,” I said. “Destiny, I don't feel like explaining to Rodgers why we ducked one of his partners. That's not smart.”
“Well, going out the front isn't smart either,” Destiny said. “Do you want to be followed and not know who's following? I'm just saying that it's better to be chased by the devil you know, you know what I'm saying?”
“When have you ever been chased by the police?” I asked.
Destiny rubbed her neck. “I've seen it plenty of times.”
I grabbed her by her scarf and stormed to the front door.
I looked out the blinds again.
No one.
No cars with snow scraped off them.
No neighbors with the blinds open.
The distinct feeling I’d sensed earlier—that someone unseen was watching me—was gone.
“Do you sense anything?” I asked, scanning the street.
“Nope,” Destiny said. “I don't feel it either. Weird.”
“Then we take our chances,” I said.
We slipped out of the front door, locked it, and hurried down the street, around the block.
Then I heard footsteps.
A few houses down, a black man in a black peacoat and earmuffs waved at us.
“Hey, excuse me!” he said, running after us.
“Shit!” Destiny cried.
“I need to talk to you!” the man cried.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We quickened our pace, leaving him behind.
I glanced back once we reached the end of the block, and he stood in front of the shop, staring at us. A group of people had gathered behind him.
Damn.
As we ran, a couple times we looked back to see if he followed.
But the streets were quiet and there was no one; just mounds of snow and distant headlights on their way somewhere else.
As we caught the bus to Kemiston Memorial, I hoped Darius hadn't had a nervous breakdown yet.
18
The fire in the subway terminal at Kemiston Memorial was still burning bright when we arrived.
The firefighters had controlled the blaze somewhat, but thick black clouds of smoke billowed into the air, carried into the hospital building, coloring some of the windows black.
Destiny and I popped our collars and kept our heads down as we entered, going out of our way to avoid police and security guards.
We asked about Allegra, and the nurse pointed toward elevators and told us where to find her.
We took the elevator to the fifth floor, passing doctors and nurses in face masks.
I pumped hand sanitizer at every station I passed.
I didn't like being back here.
At the end of the hallway, we found the waiting room that the nurse told us to go to.
It was empty. A talk show was playing on a television in the corner.
“Excuse me,” I said to a nurse behind the front counter. “I'm looking for Allegra da Silva.”
“Is she being seen here?” the nurse asked.
“She was supposed to have an MRI,” I said. “Is she with the doctor?”
“The fire outside damaged our Internet,” the nurse said. “Our systems are down, unfortunately. If she received an MRI today, the results won't be available until our systems are back online.”
I cursed.
Who was responsible for the system outage?
Yep, me.
“Where did Allegra go?” Destiny asked. “She was with a tall, skinny black guy. Seen him?”
“Oh, I remember her now,” the nurse said. “His name was Darius, right? He was a sweet young man.” The nurse lowered her voice
. “I can tell he really cares for Allegra. He treats her right.”
I resisted the urge to laugh, but Destiny didn't.
“You funny!” she said. “But seriously, where they at?”
“He told me to give you this message,” the nurse said, handing me a slip of paper.
I expected to see Darius’s handwriting.
But instead, it was the handwriting of someone else, and it was even sloppier than Darius’s.
My hands trembled as I read it.
Come and see me at 4401 High Street. Darius is here, and he's talking. -BR
Destiny snatched the paper from me and read it.
“Darius better not have snitched!” she said.
“We’re being played,” I said.
I glanced at the clock.
Two forty-five.
We were running out of time.
19
I stormed into the police station, and Destiny struggled to keep up with me.
“Cuz, wait for me!” Destiny said.
“Keep up,” I said.
My anger had grown all the way to the station as I realized Rodgers was playing a game with us.
Add the freezing cold—I couldn’t feel my face—and the thousand restaurants we passed—I was starving and hadn’t eaten since breakfast—and you had a recipe for Hurricane Aisha.
The receptionist, a portly black female officer, stood upon seeing me.
“What’s the problem?” she asked.
“Where’s Agent Rodgers?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but you need to stop right there,” she said, holding out her hand.
I stopped.
“I don’t mean any disrespect,” I said, “but I’m not happy right now.”
“Nobody that comes to the police station is happy,” the woman said, frowning.
“Rodgers is an FBI agent,” I said. “He’s using this station for his investigation. I need to speak to him. From the sounds of it, he’s been expecting me.”
The woman told me to hold on and picked up her phone.
“Yeah?” she said. “I got a woman down here looking for Rodgers. An…uh…excuse me, baby, what’s your name?”
“Aisha Robinson.”
She said my name, then listened.
“All right,” she said hanging up. “Someone will be up to get you in a minute. Sit down and cool off.”