"Meet me on the Casino steps at eleven." He hesitated again, then added, "There's more going on than what you think. Meet with me. Please."
The call intrigued me, that was for sure. But until I'd talked to Jack, there was no way in hell I was about to risk going anywhere near Quinn
I drove to work. Jack looked up from the computer screen as I entered, and his gaze widened
"Darlin', you look like shit."
"Thanks, boss. That's always nice to hear."
He rose, grabbed my arm, and pushed me into the chair. "No, I mean it." He caught my face in his large hands, and stared at me. "Your irises are the size of footballs. Have you taken something?"
"Champagne that didn't agree with me."
"This is more than that." He grabbed the phone and ordered a medical team down to our floor, pronto. "I'll get them to take a blood sample, because I think you've been drugged."
Only one person really had the chance to drug me, and really, why would he bother? He was getting what he wanted. Yet I remembered the memory loss, and, as much as I didn't want to, I wondered
"It's just a bad reaction to champagne." I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince - myself or Jack. "It's happened before."
In fact, this was the second time in as many months, though on the other occasion it hadn't happened so quickly. But I'd lost several hours, at least. I was going to have to stop drinking Talon's fine champagne, because it definitely didn't agree with me
The medical team came in, took what looked like enough blood to supply the guardians downstairs for several days, said they'd analyze it straightaway, and left
Jack sat on the edge of the desk. "You asked me earlier if I'd ever done a check on Gautier. Was it only to see if he had a brother or did you want more information?"
I leaned back in the chair and studied him for a moment. "This is another of your lures, isn't it?"
He grinned, confirming my fears. "A taste here, a taste there, and you'll be hooked before you know it."
I shook my head. "It's not going to happen. I'm not a killer."
He just raised an eyebrow. "Then you don't want to know any more about Gautier?"
I sighed and rubbed my aching head. "Of course I do."
"You knew he joined the Directorate about eight years ago?"
I nodded. He'd apparently arrived a year before Jack and two years before me. "And?"
"It appears that up until nine and a half years ago, Gautier didn't even exist."
I stared at him. "Impossible. I've seen his file. He has birth certificates, passports, citizenship cards, the lot, and everything was checked."
"Forgeries, one and all." His computer screen beeped. He rose and walked over to it
"How can you be sure?" I asked
"Because we have a very sophisticated system running here now, and there's nowhere you can't go if you have the access."
And Jack obviously had the access. Interesting. As the head of the guardian division, he'd naturally have access to more files than most, but his words suggested there was no place he couldn't go. Which, in turn, meant he either knew how to get around the system monitoring or that he had carte blanche when it came to access from the director herself
Which begged the question - why Jack and not the other directors? Because the others didn't have it - they always came to Jack when they wanted information about particular aspects in the guardian division
I studied him a minute longer, then said, "But the same system would have checked his credentials when he first joined."
"Actually, no. His acceptance was handled higher up, then rubber-stamped down to us."
"How far up?"