Hell & High Water (THIRDS 1)

Heavy, thick chains and pulleys, which Dex imagined were used to hold up the heavier pieces Pearce worked on, hung from the ceiling in various spots around the workshop. There was a table with a sander, a vise, and some polishing tools. Lined up against the rusting paneled walls were several gas tanks, and on the left side of the space was a huge furnace that nearly stretched to the ceiling. It looked as if it belonged in the dark ages. It also looked as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. Not far from it was a medium-sized coal forge that was in use, and around it were stacks of several different craft metals in a variety of shapes and sizes. The pounding of a hammer against metal rang through his ears, and he headed toward the sound. It was damn hot, the air around them stifling, but the closer they got to huge open windows at the far end, the slightly cooler it became.

Pearce, sweat dripping down his face, and goggles over his eyes, was hammering away at a piece of steel over an anvil. He was dressed in a pair of greasy, dirty overalls rolled down to his waist, heavy work boots, a short-sleeved T-shirt Dex assumed had once been white, and heavy gloves. Dex had to admit, when Pearce said he did metal work, he’d been thinking more along the lines of small items, such as the pendant he’d made for himself, not blacksmithing. Dex waited for Pearce to pause before calling over to him.

“Pearce!”

Pearce looked up, surprised to see him. “Dex, hey!” His smile was wide until he saw the rest of the team, and when his gaze landed on Sloane, his expression hardened. The animosity in Pearce’s face was unmistakable. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m sorry, Pearce. We’re here on official THIRDS business. We need to ask you a few questions.”

“I’ll talk to you. Your team can take a seat.” Pearce pointed toward a beat up old couch against the wall under the windows and next to a fridge from the Cold War days. The rest of the team started heading that way, when Pearce continued. “Not your partner, though. He can wait outside.”

“Pearce, Agent Brodie is—”

Pearce held a hand up and shook his head. “I’m not talking with him in the room.”

Dex rubbed a hand over his jaw before walking to Sloane, pulling him to one side and speaking quietly. “How do you want to handle this?”

“You’re asking me?” Sloane looked surprised.

“You’re my partner, so I’m asking you. How do you want to handle this? I could lean on him.”

Sloane thought it over. “No. I’ll wait outside. This is too important.”

“Okay.” Dex watched Sloane square his shoulders and walk out of the workshop. When the thud of the heavy metal doors reverberated through the room, Dex joined Pearce, who motioned him over to a small table with a couple of mismatched chairs. Dex sat down across from him, letting him start the conversation.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve upset you by excluding your partner, but seeing him brings back a lot of unpleasant memories.”

I’ll bet it does. “Of course,” Dex replied, sounding sincere. “I understand. We’ve had a breakthrough in the case. Are you familiar with a bar called The Styx? It’s over in the Meatpacking District.”

“Yes. I go there a lot.” Pearce nodded somberly. “It’s where Gabe was killed. Well, behind it anyway. I know it probably seems a little morbid, going back there, but it was his favorite.” A sad smile came onto his face. “I guess I’m not ready to let it go yet.”

“So were you there recently?”

Pearce nodded, removing his gloves and placing them on the table. “Three days ago. I stopped by for a drink after work.”

“I’d like to show you surveillance video from that night.” Dex removed his tablet from his padded front vest pocket and placed it on the table between them, bringing up the footage. “That’s you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Twenty minutes in, a man in a dark hoodie enters the establishment, takes one look at you and runs off. You run after him. Can you tell me what happened?”

Pearce’s jaw muscles clenched, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. Whatever it was, the guy wasn’t happy about it. “I didn’t know who the guy was at the time. When he bolted, I knew something was up, so I went after him. I don’t know if he made me as a cop—I’m a regular at the bar, and most of the other regulars and the staff know I work for the HPF. Anyway, innocent guys don’t run, right? I chased him all the way to Gansvoort where I lost him in the construction area. My guess is he shifted somewhere.”

“He was a Therian?”

“Yeah, I managed to get a look at his classification. He was a jaguar Therian.”

Shit. Could Isaac have found their guy without knowing it? If the Therian had been there before, it was possible he could have transferred the sand onto Ortiz. “What happened next?”

“You know us cops,” Isaac said with a grin. “I couldn’t let it go, so I started doing some digging around.” The grin faded from his face, and his expression went hard once again. “I found out the guy was a cousin of the Therian informant who killed Gabe.”

Dex’s eyes widened. Shit. Everything kept coming back to Gabe. It was all connected; it had to be. The case would make a lot more sense. Though there were still so many pieces of the puzzle missing.

“I don’t know if he ran because he thought I somehow knew who he was and figured I’d be out for his blood or if there was something else behind his behavior, but he was spooked.”

“Have you heard from or seen him since?”

“No. He’s gone underground.”