He shrugged. “Vacation. Just a quick get-away with Linda and Barbara before the baby’s due. Calgary’s nice this time of year.” The black pepper scent told me he was lying.
“Just knock it off, okay? Lying isn’t going to help any of us.” I held up a hand to forestall further bluster. “You own a flippin’ island in the Caribbean where there’s no extradition treaty. The feds know it, so you’re a flight risk. What odds would you give me that there’s an order out there restricting your movements?”
Lucas crossed his arms over his chest and let out a light growl. It wasn’t precisely a wolf growl, but close enough. While Carmine was a full human, he was also the significant other of Barbara Herrera, an alpha werewolf … and the woman about to give birth to his son. He had thus become a fringe “family member,” who Wolven and the Council would keep an eye on.
Carmine didn’t respond at all. But I noticed he didn’t deny my guess.
“So,” I continued, “It’s unlikely you’d be allowed on a commercial flight out of the country, meaning you snuck here, probably in the middle of the night — and I know you’re not stupid enough to do that without a damned good reason.”
“There is one.” A simple acknowledgment with a short nod. At least I didn’t have to dig on that point deeper.
“Now, when I walked in the hotel room, we shook hands.” He stared down at his hand suddenly like I’d infected him with something, or passed him some poison. I snorted. “No, it’s nothing like that. But I did do a hindsight on you without your knowledge.”
Now Lucas glared. That was supposed to have been a secret.
“Goddamn it, Giodone!” The same words came out of two mouths as they both rose to their feet and advanced toward me threateningly.
“Knock it off!” I had to yell over the blue language that was now searing the paint off the walls. “Would you please give me a second to explain why it’s important you both know?” After a moment, their scents settled down, but they still arched over me like vultures waiting for a death twitch.
My head tipped up until I could watch Carmine’s face. “I figured that my arriving would put your mind on the day you were attacked and stabbed in the condo in Colorado, so I snuck into your head to watch what happened. It is a hell of a lot easier to find people when you know what they look like, y’know.”
“It’s not like I had a camera handy while they were slicing me up.” His mouth was bitching, but his scent was impressed I’d thought to do the hindsight.
The Sazi magic that turned me into a werewolf also did other stuff to me. Most shifters get heightened senses — better eyesight or super-sensitive hearing. But a very few become ‘seers,’ those with a sixth sense. Lucky me. In my case, I don’t get the future popping into my head. No, I get the past. Usually it’s a specific past, an event that’s important or emotional to the one who lived it. I’ve learned to be able to step outside the memory to see tiny details that happened, but which aren’t readily evident until the person is pressed or under hypnosis.
“Precisely. But your mind is a perfect camera.” I tapped my forehead. “It just takes the right software to download it.”
“So what’s my wallet got to do with anything?”
“One of the guys nicked it out of your pocket while you were getting slapped around.”
Now he frowned, with his whole body. His muscles stiffened and there was a scent that told me he was hiding something. “I checked it after I came to. It was in my pocket and nothing was missing.”
“Precisely. They put it back. Interesting, huh? Those South American guys didn’t come to the condo to rob you. They were looking for something. And from the expression on the guy’s face in your memory, he found it. So, I say again … empty your wallet. Let’s find out what they wanted.”
“There’s nothing to find! There’s personal … stuff about business that’s none of yours.”
I glared at Carmine, meeting those cold eyes with steel blue ones that were beginning to glow with magical fire. “So you’re telling me that even though I’m positive the reason you were beaten up was only to distract you from the real reason for their visit, you don’t care? You want me to just kill them, without finding out what they wanted or why? Jeez, your personal and business life have already been compromised! Are you positive that the damage hasn’t already been done, while your people had no idea you were laid up in the hospital?” I paused while his pulse pounded under his skin so loud I’d swear it was coming out of speakers in the walls. “Tell me, Carmine. Be honest. Are you really pig-headed and stubborn enough to risk everything you have just to keep your little secrets — that I don’t give a damn about anyway?”
Sometime in the middle of my little rant he went still and thoughtful. The gears I knew he had in that grey matter finally jump-started. He raised up one hip to sit partway on the table. His face, and scent, went through a dozen emotions, before finally settling on the dry heat smell of embarrassment.
“Okay, so what’s the plan? Let’s say I give you my wallet.” He shot a glare at Lucas, who glared back — two junkyard dogs sizing each other up. “Just you. Do you know what you’re looking for?”
I nodded. “The last thing he pulled out was a slip of paper, about the size of a post-it note with fringed edges. An old photograph, maybe? It was on the left side and he had to dig to get it out.” Actually, I knew it was a photo. I’d even seen the image, but it didn’t make sense. It was just a photo of a long brick wall with no other identifying marks.
Carmine had gone still again, but this time he wasn’t embarrassed. He was nervous. He pulled out his wallet like a snake after a mouse. Any inhibition he’d had was lost as he nearly tore apart the soft suede. Pictures, credit cards, money, receipts and all manner of cryptic notes were tossed on the table as he frantically looked for whatever wasn’t there. A solid five minutes went by while he opened every paper, made sure the missing item wasn’t attached to anything, and re-probed every pocket, pouch and slit in the leather.
When he finally gave up, he stood staring at the pile of papers that constituted his life, looking older than I’d ever seen him. It only lasted a moment and then he smiled. The flash of teeth was completely empty of meaning and everyone in the room knew it. “Eh. No big deal. Wouldn’t mean anything to anyone but me.”
“What’s missing?” Lucas demanded. “I’d suggest you talk to us before you start talking to those who can make you talk.”
Carmine shrugged, the patently false smile abandoned. He turned his back so we couldn’t see his face. “Just an old photo of some architecture. Something my dad took years ago. Like I said, only important to me.”
I didn’t know much about Carmine’s father — only that he was raised in Chicago around the Capone era. He didn’t settle down and get married until he was nearly sixty, and most of Carmine’s friends thought Marco was his grandfather, instead of his dad.
Lucas made a gesture, pointing to my hands and then to Carmine. I knew what he wanted and I didn’t disagree. This conversation would go a lot faster if I just did another hindsight. I don’t really like doing two in one day on a person, but this was taking for-freaking-ever! I pulled off one of the black leather gloves I have to wear to keep from getting accidental images from people — but then froze and raised my nose in the air. Lucas did the same, but got a frustrated look on his face. He can’t smell things like he used to anymore, and it drives him nuts. But he’s still got eyes, and he used them … scanning around the room to try to see anything out of place. I shook my head and pointed toward the door and then thumped Carmine on the shoulder hard enough to make him jump and turn around.