Free Fake by Francine Pascal

chucked the phone into his bag and stood back on the sidewalk, glaring at the nearby buildings. Then, in a sudden burst of decisiveness, he turned and started running northward.
    He was tired of fooling around. Tired of tiptoeing about waiting for a clue to land in his lap. He needed to grab the city by the scruff of the neck and shake Gaia out of it. Forget undercover methods and being all “professional.” He needed to deal with the problem the only way he knew how: direct and in-your-face. This wasn’t just an assignment. This was Gaia.
    He hurried down the still-slick sidewalks, tapping into his bottled-up rage to use as fuel for his weary, sleep-deprived body. Meanwhile those maddening thoughts he’d been trying to keep at bay crept back into his consciousness, unspooling through his mind like a disjointed and extremely annoying infomercial.
    Somebody had gotten to Gaia, and Oliver seemed to think there was a Rodke connection. What that connection was, Jake had no idea. But it pissed him off.
    Gaia had been his. They had been through so much together, understood each other to an almost basic, molecular level. But lately Gaia hadn’t been Gaia anymore. According to Oliver, her genetic code had been tampered with. And what infuriated him to no end was that it had happened on his watch. He should have sensed it coming, but he didn’t. He let her down.
    Jake’s anger propelled him all the way to Fifth Avenue. Soon the Rodkes’ elegant apartment building zoomed into view like an exterior shot from a movie. The Wonderful World of Rodke. It looked too stylish to house dark secrets. But then, he reminded himself, weren’t all the pretty, colorful snakes always the most poisonous?
    A doorman in a neat blue suit was standing under the front awning. He watched Jake warily as he approached. Jake found himself wishing he’d cleaned himself up a bit before coming.
    â€œHi,” he greeted casually. “I’m here to see the Rodkes.”
    â€œYou’re from the Village School?” the man asked, taking in Jake’s scruffy clothes and two-day whisker growth.
    â€œUh . . . yeah,” Jake replied. “I go to school with Liz and Chris.”
    The man pulled open the front door. “Seventeenth floor,” he said, motioning with his free hand toward the elevator.
    That was easy, Jake thought as the elevator began to rise with a soothing hydraulic whir. Could they be expecting me?
    The elevator glided to a stop and the doors parted, revealing the Rodkes’ gray-and-beige-striped vestibule. Jake stepped out and knocked on the black-lacquered front door.
    Liz opened it and beamed at him in surprise, her front teeth gleaming in the chandelier light like a row of square pearls. “Jake! What are you doing here?”
    â€œLooking for Gaia.”
    Liz’s face fell. “Still? Didn’t you find her last night?”
    â€œNo,” he replied, feeling a prick of irritation. “Listen. I know she’s with Skyler and I’ve got to talk to her. It’s really important. Could you tell me where he lives?”
    Liz crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door frame. “How do you know she’s with Skyler?”
    â€œI . . . I just know.”
    â€œUh-huh,” she muttered, wavy lines appearing on her forehead. “What’s going on, Jake?”
    â€œNothing. I mean . . . okay. Yes, something is going on, but I can’t tell you what.” Jake tried to contain his irritation inside his clenched fists. Why did she insist on giving him the third degree? Wasn’t it obvious that this was important? “I really need to find Gaia. Please, just tell me where Skyler lives.”
    â€œI can’t do that.” She shook her head. “Sorry.”
    There was that word again. Jake held back the urge to begin shouting. “Why?” he asked, taking a deep breath. “Why can’t