“I don’t think so,” said Alaric. “She turned sort of white when Maggie told her where they were going.”
“God, I hope somebody’s got a camera running.” Or four, or five, or maybe an even dozen. We couldn’t use the footage for anything, but seeing Kelly confronted with an actual fish counter would be comedy gold.
“I’m sure they do,” said Alaric. “They know their jobs.”
“True.” I refilled my mug. “Anything else going on?”
“Not really.”
“Huh. Okay. How are the overnights?”
“Good.”
“Not great?”
“Really good.” Alaric seemed to realize I wasn’t going anywhere. He pushed his laptop to one side and reached for his own mug. “Your report got a ridiculous number of downloads. I mean, really ridiculous. Every time you go anywhere near the field, we see a ratings spike of insane proportions.”
“Yeah, well, every time I go anywhere near the field, I wind up not sleeping for a month, so I guess it evens out in the end. Has the CDC said anything about what happened in Portland?”
“There’s no official statement yet, but Talking Points managed to get an interview with Director Swenson—”
I snorted. Talking Points is a lousy site, and they have a reputation for editing reports to match the requests of the highest bidder. Giving them an exclusive was sort of like buying a commercial slot during prime time: a great use of your money, but a terrible abuse of the truth.
Alaric narrowed his eyes. “Mind if I continue?”
“Sorry.” I waved my mug in his direction. “I’m all ears. No more interruptions, I promise.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Alaric muttered, before continuing: “He repeated the lab accident story and added a cute little ‘maybe if they hadn’t somehow wandered into a secure area, they wouldn’t have been forced to use the emergency access tunnels’ rider, trying to make it look like you and Becks had been negligent, or worse, trespassing.”
“How did we answer that?”
“Mahir uploaded your footage, sans dialogue, of everything from the director leaving you in the conference room to the lights going out. Time stamps visible for the entire thing. If you were someplace you weren’t supposed to be, it was because the director left you there.”
“Remind me to give that man a raise.”
“How about you get the rest of us out of the line of fire, first?” Alaric’s tone was harsh, verging on nasty. I’d never heard him talk to anyone like that before. Not even after the time I broke his nose for suggesting that my ongoing need to talk to George was a sign of mental illness. I know it’s a sign of mental illness; I knew it then, too. I just think the alternative to going crazy is even worse.
I put my mug down, frowning as I studied Alaric. He looked tired, but that wasn’t really a surprise. We all looked tired, and with good reason. “Dude, what’s going on? Did somebody decide to piss in your cereal or something?”
“I’m just not sure you have your priorities straight anymore. That’s all.” Alaric looked at me steadily, lips firming into a thin line. “It’s not like any of us can quit at this point, is it? Not when they’re blowing up buildings to make us stop poking at things.”
“What, and you think that’s my fault?” I waved an arm toward the front door. “I didn’t ask the Dochow up, and they started shooting at us as soon as they had a bead on where she was, remember? You cannot pin that one on me, Alaric. You want to be pissed off at somebody, I recommend her.”
“She brought us a hook into the greatest conspiracy of our generation! You just want it to be about revenge! It’s not all about you, Shaun. It’s never been all about you. You’re not the only one being lied to, and you’re not the only one who’s lost people. I guess I’m just getting tired of you acting that way.”
I blinked. “I… what?”
“You heard me.”
“I never said this wasn’t everybody’s fight.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I slammed my hand down on the table hard enough to make the coffee slosh over the lip of my mug. Alaric jumped. “Dammit, Alaric, this is not the time to play pissy bitches. What the fuck is bothering you? Did you get trolled on the message boards? Is your revenue share down? Do you not like the guest room you’re in? What?”
“Was there a particular reason Rebecca came down the stairs this morning looking like she hadn’t slept, and ran out of here the second she was given the opportunity to do so?” You could have used the edge on his voice to cut steel. Closing his laptop with one hand, Alaric continued: “You were asleep at the time. That may be why she left so quickly. Avoiding an unpleasant encounter.”
“Oh, crap.” Any relief I might have felt at hearing that I wasn’t going crazier—Becks and I really did have sex—was destroyed by the realization that I’d hurt her in the process. I put a hand over my face, resting my elbow on the table. “Oh, fuck.”