CHAPTER 6: Island

7 1 0
                                    

3:27 p.m.

I tapped my temple to connect with Mary.

"Mika, so good to hear from you," she exclaimed. "Are you two having fun?"

Sure, if you enjoy things like chewing on nails and getting accused of murder. I didn't even bother with a 'hello.' "I take it you haven't been watching the Hydra police feeds?"

"No, why?"

I waited for a few seconds while she scanned the news. I knew she was up to speed when she gasped. "Poor Richard. How about you? Are you all right, honey?"

"I'm fine. But I won't be coming back for a few days. Police here want us to stick around for a while. Can you let the captain know?"

"Of course, honey! Anything you need. You know I'm here for you, right?"

Sometimes it was good to have an Aunt Lucy in your life. I was sure Mary would have already jumped into her zoomer if she had legs. And arms. And a body. "Thank you, Mary. I'll let you know how it goes."

I tapped my temple to disconnect as we reached an opening with a battered bench and a view to the sea. The prickling of the hairs on the back of my neck told me the drone's glass eyes were still staring at us from somewhere out of sight, even though all attempts to locate it through the tracker app continued to fail.

My mind returned to Sergeant Morgan. I glanced at Leo. "Can you believe that baichi? Richard dies and all this so-called cop can think about is jurisdiction—and accusing me of murder."

The mention of the origins of the word "cop" popped once again into my view, courtesy of the hololens. I really have to uninstall that app. I dismissed it with a gesture that would have made Richard's ears burn.

"Detective..." Leo paused. He grabbed my arm. "I think there's more to it than that."

"More than sheer incompetence?" I guffawed, then saw he was serious. "What do you mean?"

"Sergeant Morgan exhibited clear signs of stress."

"Maybe he wanted to use the loo," I said with a shrug. "He certainly looked constipated. Or maybe he had a fight with his wife."

"I just checked his record."

Of course you have. Don't even need to tap your temple to do so. You're probably plugged into the Network at all times. I wasn't sure if I felt envy or pity. "His daily intake of fiber is fine, then?"

"Detective, this is serious," Leo scolded me. "He's not married. And I don't know. What I do know is, he's already been reprimanded twice."

Couldn't have happened to a nicer man. "What for?"

"That, I don't know. The records were sealed. To me, anyway."

"Fine. So, he's an unlikeable, constipated, sorry excuse for a cop." I quickly tapped my temple to stop the dictionary app from popping up. "Are you sure you're not letting your feelings influence you?"

"I'm pretty good at keeping my feelings separate from my thoughts. But thank you for acknowledging I have them."

My shoulders rose and fell in a deliberately indifferent shrug. Yeah, I'm a cool kid that way. "Don't sound so surprised. Your emotions are probably just part of your programming."

"That doesn't make them any less real," Leo said in a quiet voice. "If you hurt me and I cry, how do you know my tears are any less real than yours? That my pain is any less real?"

My eyes widened. Did I offend him? "I..." I placed my hand on his arm. Once again, the firmness of his muscles surprising me. "Look, I don't pretend to understand how you work. All I'm saying is, I've seen how you deal with emotional situations. I don't care if your emotions are real or not. What matters is that you recognize them in others. Heck, you're probably better at it than many people I know."

A Heaven for ToastersWhere stories live. Discover now