But she got in the car, and it pulled out, heading for parts unknown. I mounted the motorcycle and took off after them, hanging back enough in traffic to be sure I wasn't remarkable. Plenty of students cruising around on similar rides, so I didn't stand out.
Sure enough, the drive ended up at the building where Dr Anderson worked, and Claire did her studies. A dead end - ha - because I damn sure couldn't go strolling in, or I'd definitely risk coming face-to-face with Claire and have an uncomfortable conversation about what I was doing there, exactly. It would start with I was worried about you and end with her (probably rightly) saying I told you I needed to do this on my own.
I considered for a bit, then decided to head back to the bar. I could still grab a decent dinner before it was back to the regular kind of hot water.
For no damn good reason, I took the way back that led past Claire's row house, and as I slowed down, I saw a guy trying to open the door. I say 'trying' because he clearly wasn't having any luck. He had what might have been a key in his hand, but I didn't think so. He was also bigger than I was, and I didn't think he should have any business jimmying my girlfriend's door, so I pulled in, jumped off the bike, stood on the bottom step to block his path, and said, 'Hey, something I can do for you there, buddy?'
He whipped around, and I saw the fury and fear mixed together before it all smoothed into a bland, but still somehow unpleasant, mask. 'What's your problem?' he barked at me, and flexed his shoulders to show me his muscle-guns were loaded. I remained unimpressed. 'Just having some trouble with my key. Had a break-in last week, had to change the locks, this one sticks.'
One thing about liars, they can never resist the opportunity to take it just a step too far. If he'd just left it at the first part about the key, it might have been believable, but he just kept talking, and that proved he was making it up.
Plus, of course, he didn't live there. Obviously, that gave it away.
'Let me take a look,' I said, and came up one step.
'Back off.' He put the thing that was not a key in his pocket quickly, and upped the ante by coming down two steps, letting me know he was ready to charge. Again: not impressed. 'None of your business, punk, just keep walking.'
I had a number of really awesome choices in front of me. First, I could take another step up, and smash this guy's face with my fist, which sounded great; second, I could take another step up, let him punch at me, duck, and then smash his face with my fist. Or - and the less awesome choice - I could avoid causing a scene and possible police incident, back off, and pay attention to this douche bag from now on to see what he was up to.
I went with the less awesome option. Claire actually had changed me, it turned out - she'd made me think a little bit about the consequences, so I wasn't just in attack mode all the time. I didn't necessarily love it, but I saw the wisdom of it, and I nodded to the big guy, stepped down out of his way, and moved to the side. 'Sorry,' I said, not very sincerely. 'Just trying to help, man.'
'Fuck off,' he snapped, and charged past me. He didn't have to slam his shoulder into mine, but he did, and for a second I considered teaching him the wisdom of taking the high road, but I let it go. The slight discomfort was enough to make me feel righteous and all as I watched him walk down the block and around the corner. I had the weird feeling that he hadn't gone far, so I got on my bike, made a show of roaring away around the corner, and then coasted to a quiet stop so I could take a look.
Sure enough, the guy went back. He didn't try the door again, but he went across the street and took up a leaning-against-a-wall post. Looked like he could do it all night.
Looked like he had, before, which bothered me. He had to be the lurker I'd seen before.
What in the hell was going on? Was it related to Jesse being a vampire? Dr Anderson? Something else?
I didn't want to leave, but after watching him for about ten minutes, I got on the bike and raced back to Florey's. It was that, or lose my job, and for now, I needed the pay cheque.
Before I left, I pulled out my cell phone and reported an attempted break-in to the cops, just to make sure the dickhead got well and truly harassed. Emphasis on ass.
Man, the real world sucked. And it sucked even more that I actually missed Morganville.
CHAPTER SIX
Jesse and Pete walked Claire up to the building, through the regular nonsecured hallways, and then, as they approached the secured hallway and Claire dug the pass out of her pocket, she hesitated. 'Um, maybe you'd better give me the box,' she said. 'I don't think you can go in without an ID card ...' Her voice trailed off, because Pete balanced the box one-handed as if it was filled with nothing but packing peanuts, pulled a pass out of his pocket, and looped the cord over his neck. Jesse had one, too. 'Oh. Never mind.'
Jesse winked at her as she slid the pass through the card reader. 'Don't sweat it,' she said. 'We're officially unofficial. Like you, only without the crushing tuition burden.'
'I'm on scholarship,' Claire offered.
'So I heard,' Jesse said. 'Friends in low places, and all that. Again, like us. Come on, let's go see the wizard.'
Claire wasn't sure if she was referring to The Princess Bride or - more likely - The Wizard of Oz; she supposed that in the latter case she'd be Dorothy, and that made Jesse the ... Scarecrow? Not with those curves. Likewise, Pete seemed a bad choice for Cowardly Lion. He looked cuddly, but he worked as a bouncer, which seemed like the opposite of cuddly.
Jesse and Pete seemed utterly out of place here ... Jesse for her Goth pallor and blazing hair, and Pete for his muscular frame. Here in Scienceland, people tended to be less attention-getting, and the lab coats they passed gave them second looks of either admiration or fear, or maybe both. Jesse seemed to know it, from the smile on her face and the spring in her step; Pete shuffled along with the box, and didn't seem to notice or care how people saw him.
Claire wondered what made the two of them friends. Maybe nothing, except a mutual liking for Dr Anderson.
They already knew the one-at-a-time-through-the-lab-door protocol, and Claire ended up going last in line, though Pete tried to politely wait for the honour. Once she was in, Claire followed him to the back of the lab, where Dr Anderson had cleared off a worktable, and as she arrived, Anderson had already folded back the wings of the box lid and was reaching in to lift out the device.
No ... in Anderson's competent, strong hands, as she cradled its weight, it definitely looked like a weapon, not a device. A futuristic ray gun sort of weapon, sure, but if you spotted a character in a film carrying it, you'd know what it was, instantly.
Something to hurt people.
Claire swallowed. She'd been so into the details of what she was doing that she hadn't really looked at it, just looked, in a long time ... and even though others had held it, she'd been assessing the weight, the balance, the structure.
Dr Anderson made it look dangerous. She handled it competently, carefully, and then set it down on a soft foam layer she'd put on the table next to the box. Then she looked up, met Claire's eyes, and said, 'Have you checked it out? Any damage?'
'No damage I can see,' Claire said. 'It still powers up.'
'Excellent.' Dr Anderson took a deep breath and nodded. 'Right. Thanks, Jesse, Pete ... I think we've got it from here. I know you need to get to work. Thanks for helping us out.'
'You were right to be worried,' Jesse said. 'Someone's watching her house. Big guy.'
'That's Derrick,' Claire offered. 'My housemate's ex. It's a personal thing. I don't think he's got any interest in what I do.'
'Maybe not, but it's worrying nevertheless,' Dr Anderson said. 'Someone could be using him as a stalking horse. He could even be passing his surveillance details along to a third party.'
Claire hadn't thought of that; she did wonder how Derrick could afford to follow Liz here, and apparently spend all his time hanging out on the sidewalk. Didn't he work? Surely he wasn't wealthy enough to be that maliciously idle. It was a great question, she realised; it was something that wouldn't have occurred to her in Morganville, but out here in the real world, it could be significant.
'I'll check him out,' Jesse offered. 'I didn't like his vibe, Irene. Freaky. Not that standing around outside a house with two young women in it isn't creepy on its own, of course.' She smiled a little, and Dr Anderson smiled back, and Claire was struck by how ... comfortable it seemed. As if they'd known each other a long time. There was also a little bit of challenge in it, too. That was a complicated friendship.
'Want me to take the box away, Doc?' Pete asked. It was the first thing he'd said, and Dr Anderson's gaze broke off from Jesse's and landed on him. 'I mean, unless you want it for something. I can use it at the bar. We use 'em to put the recycling in.'