Liz Gionelli/Four Suits

Liz stared at her father, mouth agape.

“What?” he asked.

“A family case?” she asked, “I’m supposed to be—”

“A case this high-profile, family or not, is the prefect next step to partner.”

She winced.

“Only if I win. The sharks on Henry Eisel’s payroll will be out for blood, especially if it could mean their last payout.”

“If they’re sharks, you’re an Orca. They don’t stand a chance against you.”

Liz took a deep breath. This was a terrible idea.

“What if she did it?”

“All you need is reasonable doubt,” her father said, reassuringly.

Liz didn’t have a rebuttal.

“I knew more killers growing up than innocents, and she shows neither the remorse nor the ruthlessness to be one,” he assured, handing Liz the file.

“Would you defend those killers?”

“Why do you think dad paid for law school?”

Liz swallowed.

“And why do you think I left?” dad asked.

She took the file.

“You don’t need to take it if you don’t want it.”

“I already took it—”

“There are plenty of hungry young—”

“My case,” Liz insisted, “But when I win, Pete’s gonna owe me big.”

She walked confidently back to her office, where Catherine Piec already sat with Liz’s brother Pete standing beside her.

Catherine had red hair slightly past her shoulders, a burn scar covering the right half of her face, especially around the eye, and an impressive amount of freckles for how little her skin seemed to have seen the sun. Pete looked a lot like Liz, similar face with blond hair and blue eyes, but he was slightly shorter, especially when Liz was in heels. He kept his curlier hair on the short end, and he was always slightly tanner. The couple’s controlled expressions did little for Liz’s confidence in this matter.

“Get out,” Liz ordered.

“Are you not—”

“Not you,” she kept eyes on Catherine as she gestured to Pete with the file, “Him.”

“You can’t be—”

“Pete, you’re incredibly charismatic, you have an innate magnetism about you that isn’t from your powers, and I need the room with my client.”

“Technically—” Catherine began to object.

“Your case means you’re my client,” she turned again to her brother, “Out.”

Pete looked at Catherine.

“I’m sure you’re scared,” Liz told her, “But it’ll be easier to be honest if you don’t care about anyone in the room.”

“I care about you,” Catherine argued.

“You care about me because you’re dating my brother—”

“Engaged,” Pete coughed.

“You’re engaged to my brother, apparently, but I promise you that even if I hate your ass, Pete won’t listen to me at all. Case in point: the fact he still hasn’t gotten out of my office!”

“Just go,” Catherine said, “I’ll be alright.”

“You can distract the interns from listening for gossip,” Liz recommended, “Everyone wants to get with the Boss’ kid.”

“I don’t think—”

“Out!”

Pete finally left her office.

Liz stood up to close the blinds.

“So, now that he’s gone, we can be client and lawyer, not prospective sisters-in-law.” she sat at her desk, “What happened on the night of Henry Eisel’s murder? Please don’t leave anything out.”

The Four Suits sat outside a coffee shop just across from Eiselcorp. To any passersby, they looked and sounded like an innocuous group of friends catching up on old times. Diamond made sure of that.

“What are the radios for?” she asked as she pulled back her bright red hair. The dye was recent enough to stain her hand slightly, “As long as you don’t fight me, I can connect us all telepathically.”

“Only if Eisel’s security doesn’t involve power-suppression,” Club explained, pushing back her black braids, “Or telepaths of his own.”

“He has telepaths on the payroll?” Diamond asked.

“He has a lot of people on the payroll, and a tolerance policy toward superhumans in particular. Billionaires don’t do altruism.”

“Philanthropy?” Spade countered, rubbing at the bluish stain his black hair left on his palm.

“Philanthropy is just PR. They could pay the entire budget to solve any world problem, but instead they’re putting their names on resources the government’s supposed to pay for.”

“Now I’ll never get my trust for the wealthy back,” Heart complained, hair a matching red to Diamond’s as jokingly pulled at it, “How am I supposed to forgive them for everything they’ve done?”

“I think we’re past forgiveness with this plan,” Diamond said.

“Heart, you start us off.” Club explained, “Encourage every minor fraction of desire to leave, reduce their numbers enough to be manageable. Spade, you follow him after five minutes, and take the elevator. Keep any stragglers from leaving and wait for my direction.

“Diamond, you and I enter at the same time. You knock out the front desk, and I’ll find what we’re looking for. Then you and Heart work to get security on our side if possible.”

Heart had already left. Spade focused on his watch.

“You’re more prepped than usual,” Diamond noted, “Usually, you at least let me lead.”

“This is important,” Club defended, “It’s a big job.”

“We’ve had plenty that pay more. This is personal for you.”

Club sighed. Diamond hated that she couldn’t just read the technopath’s mind.

“He’s another technopath,” Club said, “I can’t lose to him.”

“That can’t be it. Did he break your heart in a chatroom? Did he fire you before you found us?”

“I lost an opportunity because of him,” Club said, “Ruined my life.”

“I know that feeling.”

“So this is finally a chance at payback.”

Diamond patted her on the back.

“Attagirl.”

“I was trying to resign,” Catherine revealed, “I had been trying for almost two months, but every time I turned in my resignation, they insisted my employment was through a higher part of the company, so I’d have to give the resignation to them.

“I knew I could’ve probably handed it to him the next time we had a conversation, and I would’ve, if I hadn’t been avoiding him.”

“Why were you avoiding him?”

Catherine paused to assess. Liz understood she could be threatening.

“It would be smart to get ahead of any grievances you had against the man.”

Catherine nodded, pulling off her right glove to reveal something darker underneath. It looked like the glint of metal.

“This arm used to be cybernetic,” Catherine explained, “And the same leg, as well my eye. I had an incident, and mutated to incorporate them all into this. The eye is probably the most impressive—”

“Is the mutation relevant?”

“Mildly,” Catherine said, “But I’ll skip the full explanation. Eisel is the one who gave me the original cybernetics when I was eight.”

Liz kept her foot carefully planted as she rolled away from her desk. If she lost control, she’d have to replace something in her office.

“I had suffered severe burns.” Catherine pointed out the scar on her face and pulled her shirt collar to the side to show more on her shoulder, “And my mom wasn’t in a state to question his claim I would die if she didn’t let it happen.”

“Was it true?”

“There’s no way to know.”

Liz tsked.

“As an extra feature to the cybernetics,” Catherine continued, “Eisel had a backdoor into my mind, letting him manipulate me more easily and keep tabs on anything I did.”

“Like my brother,” Liz guessed, “That’s why you disappeared on him for awhile.”

“Until the mutation.”

“Which finally gave you back control of your life.”

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?”

Oh no.

“A man like Henry Eisel doesn’t limit his resources when he wants to control something. I still technically work for his company because I wasn’t able to resign. I’ve been temporarily suspended.”

Her motive was strong.

“I washed the evidence of poison from my mother’s tea set,” Catherine had a far off look in her eye, “Broke it for good measure, because he told me to over the phone. I was an accessory to murder at the age of ten, and didn’t realize until over a decade later.”

Incredibly strong.

“Does my brother know all this?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re engaged to the grandson of Dante Gionelli, and you don’t understand the problem of said grandson knowing every possible motive you have for murdering a guy? My father was just talking about how he grew up around killers, and you don’t seem to be one.”

“Does Pete?”

“Dad didn’t say, but this is why I didn’t want him in the room.”

“I could have told you all of—”

“I don’t think my brother murdered Henry Eisel, but he would say incredibly incriminating shit if I let him stay. Any further motive?”

Catherine took a moment to think about it.

“I suspect Eisel arranged for the lab accident that killed my father and injured me. My father was going to report the risks of a substance used in Eiselcorp’s cybernetics projects.”

“Eisel used the substance on you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the risk?”

“Hypermutation: You are looking at a rare quaternary empowered. Pete and I both agree that I’ll probably have a normal human lifespan at best.”

“Does the prosecution know that?”

“Do you think Eiselcorp lawyers are going to admit that their government contracts depend on a substance that makes empowereds more dangerous?”

There was a lot they probably wouldn’t bring up for fear of the bottom line. That at least was favorable against those sharks.

“Anything else?”

“Separated me from my sister at the age of ten, but mostly I hold that against my parents for naming two separate godparents for their twins.”

“Why don’t we return to the night he died, and you give me an itemized trauma receipt later.”

Catherine giggled, and Liz lost a little bit of tension.

“I shouldn’t laugh.” Catherine looked down in shame.

“No, you should, a terrible man just died, and instead of celebrating, you have to defend yourself.”

She smiled. Liz could see why Pete liked her so much.

“Comparatively not much to tell. I gave him my resignation, he refused, told me what he always says—”

“What does he always say?”

“Think carefully, Catherine,” she said as if in imitation, “Before my mutation, that phrase always made me justify whatever he claimed. Now it just makes me angry.”

“But it didn’t work?”

“I told him I’d thought about it longer than he’d thought about anything in his life. Then he started lecturing me on how grateful I should be. Then I told him I could never be grateful to a man who got away with killing my parents.”

“Fuck.”

Catherine watched Liz, clearly concerned about the professionalism.

“Vengeance isn’t legally protected,” Liz explained, “Knowing Henry Eisel, the prosecution will probably have a recording of you stating your motive. Even if we can prove he was involved in both deaths, that will only make it easier to point the finger at you.”

“Fuck, indeed,” Catherine confirmed.

Liz gestured for her to continue the account.

“Before it could become a real argument, he pushed me into the stairwell. I heard someone enter, some heated words, then two gunshots.”

“So you hid in the stairwell while he was being shot.”

“I didn’t watch to know they pulled a gun out. I tried to stay quiet so no one would know where I was.”

Liz sighed.

“So you don’t know who pulled the trigger.”

“No.”

“And no record shows anyone else in the room after you.”

“No record shows me with a gun either.”

"It shows an argument, then we lose the footage and he’s dead with you nowhere to be seen.”

“I know—”

“But timestamps show a large amount missing throughout the building, no sign of a struggle, you don’t own a gun, and you didn’t do it, so that’s all in our favor. We just have to find a better suspect.”

Diamond reached a hand out before the front desk could sound the alarm, knocking them out. Club jumped behind the desk, tapping into the computer module.

The information was surprisingly accessible. Maybe because Eisel wanted these backdoors available for himself, even if that meant leaving them open for other technopaths. It would be nice to put this bastard in his place.

She deactivated every security camera, then looked up with a concerned expression.

“The information isn’t in here,” she lied, “I need to go to his office.”

Diamond reached behind the desk to grab a guest badge.

“You should be able to make this a skeleton key.”

Club gladly took it.

“I’ll let you know when I get the info.”

She took the nearest elevator all the way up to Henry Eisel’s office.

She saw the assistant. Luckily Eisel had made the book digital.

“Mr. Eisel’s still in a meeting with our head of Applied Sciences right now. Can I get a name?”

“I think I just got in. My name’s Diana Eves. It was a last-minute reschedule so it might not—”

“Oh, I see your name. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

The secretary paged the name. If everything blew to pieces here, Club would tell the others she found the info and take enough of his worth to make him sweat.

“He’ll see you.”

“What about the head of—”

“Dr. Piec took the stairs. She prefers it apparently.”

Club entered the room, integrating with the surrounding system.