Page 25 of Benny

“Good. That was my intent.” She picked up her bag. “Look, I was undercover for six of the eight months you were gone. Becoming Marisol was easy. Hell, the easiest part was the makeup and clothes. Until Benedict threw my picture up on every fucking television station in Las Vegas and probably across the continental United States, everyone bought my cover.”

Her expression hardened for just a second before the smile came back. “Trust me when I say it’s even easier to go the other way. To go from gangbanger to socialite who just happens to be dressing down for the day.”

Benny looked her over again.

Yeah, he could see it now. Not just the clothes or the makeup, but the way she carried herself. Even her posture had changed. There was something almost effortless about it.

“How many versions of you are there?”

Jordan’s smile turned sly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Apparently, he did. He stood, and she shoulder-checked him on her way past.

“Come on, Mallard. Let’s go figure out what’s going on with that memory of yours.”

Chapter Eight

The pool house was exactly the kind of thing Jordan would have expected to find at the home of a Golden Age movie star.

She’d had Benny fire up the highly illegal signal jammer as soon as they left the rental house, so any camera they passed went fuzzy when they came in range. There would be absolutely no record of them driving to the meet, even on doorbell cams.

The estate itself was an Art Deco masterpiece, a sprawling single story that seemed to settle naturally into the dips and folds of the meticulously landscaped grounds. An Olympic-sized swimming pool dominated the backyard, surrounded by more lush landscaping, while a scattering of period-appropriate statues separated the main house from the pool house.

Kendra Hancock’s sensible sedan was parked to one side, leaving plenty of room for Jordan to pull in their vehicle.

After making sure the jammer was still functioning, Jordan broadened its range enough to reach just beyond the front gate. Then she and Benny got out and walked into the pool house.

Dr. Hancock sat in a comfortable-looking chair beside the indoor spa, frustratedly tapping at her phone. She looked just like she had in therapy, compact and competent, her brown hair pulled back into a professional bun, the cinnamon highlights barely showing.

“I’ve jammed all the signals,” Jordan said. “You won’t be able to get anything in or out until I drop it.”

Kendra looked up sharply, then her gaze shifted past Jordan and landed on Benny. Her expression went slack and Jordan realized, in hindsight, that the good doctor had been as much a pawn of this experiment as they had, even though she hadn’t been exposed to the nanites.

When Benny had floated the idea this morning, she’d never even considered that the woman might be part of the experiment, because she’d trusted her on a bone-deep level. Judging by the shocked expression on Hancock’s face, Jordan’s intuition had proved correct.

The woman rose slowly to her feet, letting the phone clatter onto the table as she walked toward them. By the time she reached them, she’d managed to regain her composure. “Sergeant Drake. I was under the mistaken impression that you were dead.”

“Yeah, well, something along the lines of that old quote about reports of my death being greatly exaggerated.” Benny’s tone remained serious. “I need your help.”

Kendra glanced back at the useless phone. “Why do I get the feeling that Master Sergeant Masters wasn’t being completely forthright with me when she set up this appointment?” It wasn’t really a question. She turned her attention to Jordan. “I saw you on the news a few days ago. Looks like it’s been a busy week for you.”

“You could say that,” Jordan said dryly. “But we’re here for Benny. He can’t remember the last year, and it’s literally a matter of life or death that he does.”

Hancock cocked her head, her gaze clear and calm. “Why should I? I was lured here under false pretenses.”

“Because we think this relates back to why we were forced into therapy in the first place,” Benny said.

The statement surprised Jordan. She hadn’t realized he’d made that connection yet, but Dr. Hancock obviously had. She didn’t look surprised at all.

She regarded them for a long moment, then released a quiet sigh. “There was always something hinky about your therapy group and the way it was handled from on high. As for treating you, I still consider you my patients.” She turned and walked back to the table, settling into her chair before lifting an eyebrow at them.

“Why don’t you catch me up on what’s been happening?”

Jordan and Benny took the other chairs, and Jordan filled her in on what they knew. She didn’t go into every detail, telling Kendra only that they had believed Benny to be dead and now had reason to believe certain factions within the government had been using them as part of an experiment. An experiment that almost certainly had something to do with the fact that Benny was alive today.

Kendra listened with an impassive expression. When Jordan finally finished, the doctor sank further against the cushions of the lounge chair.

“I wish I could say I don’t believe you. Or that what you’re describing is beyond what our government is capable of.” Her mouth tightened. “But I know better than that.” She looked at Benny. “What do you want from me?”