by Roxie Rivera
I didn’t have time to think of all consider all of those possibilities. The doors to the elevator had just closed when Mueller walked out of his office to greet me. His gaze jumped to Kir and then back to me. He extended his hand toward me and apologized. “I’m sorry about that. Teague is having a rough couple of weeks.”
“Clearly,” I replied dryly. “This is Kir. He’s a good friend.”
“Kir.” Mueller extended his hand and flashed the briefest wince as Kir clamped his hand in a vise-like grip. He stepped aside and gestured for me to enter his office. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I didn’t miss the way he tried to hide the flex of his fingers at his side. Hopefully, Kir hadn’t actually broken any of them. Giving Kir a look, I indicated the seat he had just vacated, and he reluctantly sat. I walked into the office and was instantly drawn to the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Discovery Green. “This is quite a view, Mr. Mueller.”
“James,” he insisted. “And, yes, it is.” He stopped next to me to enjoy the view. “I walked into this room, looked out these windows and decided I didn’t need to waste time looking at any other buildings. This was the perfect one for my Houston expansion.”
“You chose well.”
“A smart man takes what he wants when he sees it.”
A shiver of unease coursed down my spine. I studiously ignored his sidelong glance, not wanting to confirm my suspicion about his meaning. If he had any crazy ideas about me, he could fuck right off.
Taking a step away, I wandered over to a detailed model of the development he was proposing. It was very ambitious, combining recreation and entertainment with luxury and affordable housing and green spaces. A framed set of infographics showed the financials of the project as well as the benchmarks for each step of the development.
“You’ve known Teague a long time?” Mueller joined me at the model and wiped away a bit of dust with his thumb.
“Six years,” I answered, continuing my trek around the edge of the model to maintain space between us. “We met in college.”
“And dated, I understand.”
“Yes. Briefly,” I lied, not wanting to get into any kind of discussion about my dating history with a man I barely knew. “And you? How long have you known him?”
“His whole life.”
Taken aback, I couldn’t even hide my surprise. “Really?”
“His father and I served together.”
The connection finally clicked. “Army Ranger, right?”
“Yes.” He gestured to some photos behind his desk. “Two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan.”
“Were you with his dad when the IED...?”
Mueller nodded solemnly. He tugged down the collar of his shirt to reveal a gnarly scar that I suspected traveled far down his chest. “I was close enough to get the shrapnel but far enough back that I survived.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been a terrible day.”
“It was.” A phone chirped, and he slipped his hand into his pocket to retrieve it. He glanced at the screen. “I need to take this.”
“I can step out,” I offered.
“No, you stay.” He swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear while walking toward a door on the other side of his office. “Hang on...”
The door closed behind him, and I indulged my curiosity about the photos behind his desk. There were the usual photos of his family including his very cute kids. From the looks of it, they were a family who liked the outdoors. There were photos from camping trips and hikes and early morning snapshots of two of his young sons in camouflage hunting gear in what looked to be a deer blind.
Seeing Teague standing with Mueller and his family in so many of the photos left me questioning everything I knew about him. He had never—not once—said anything racist in my presence. He had more friends who were black or Middle Eastern or Asian than he did who were white. His sister had converted to Judaism to marry her longtime boyfriend. He had been nothing but supportive of Abby and was a loving uncle to Abby and Jacob’s little girls.
Was it possible he truly believed the shit that Mueller did? Was it possible for someone to hide those feelings that well? Had I dated a man with so much hate in his heart?
Troubled by the idea that I never even knew Teague, I moved along to the other photos. There was a selection from his years in the military, some stateside and others overseas. Some of the same faces from his time in the Army reappeared in more recent photos at the same camping lodge where he took his family. As I looked closer, I noticed the almost hidden details in the carved railing lining the front porch of the rustic cabin.
Are you kidding me?
There was no mistaking what I was seeing. Lightning bolts, runes, eagles and other hate symbols were used in such a way that they seemed innocuous. Almost pretty, I admitted reluctantly. If I hadn’t researched the world Mueller belonged to in preparation for this meeting, I wouldn’t have known there were other meanings to these symbols.
Another photo showed the name of the private riverside camp. My stomach churned when I read the sign. Wannsee River Camp. What kind of monster named their camp after the infamous Wannsee Conference?
“Sorry about that,” Mueller apologized as he returned to the office. “What do you think about the camp?”
“It’s very beautiful,” I said, thinking it was a shame such a pristine natural landscape had been soiled by his ugly ideas. “Hill Country?” I guessed.
“Bandera County,” he confirmed. “You and Ivan should come out and stay with us some weekend.” He delivered his invitation as he came to stand beside me.
I suppressed a shudder at his closeness. “We aren’t very outdoorsy people.”
“You might change your mind in the right company.” He glanced over at me, his smile unnervingly charming. “I think you two would fit right in with our kind of people.”
“And what kind is that?” I dared to ask, wondering if he was about to come right out with his white pride speech.
“People with shared values,” he said, skirting the real issue. “We love God, our country, our families, and our communities. We work hard. We contribute to society. We’re the very best this nation has to offer.” Clearly trying to test me, he asked, “You believe in those things, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. Although we aren’t religious.”
“Maybe you haven’t found the right church yet.”
“No, that’s not the problem.” Before he could try to rope me into a theological discussion, I left the wall of photos and returned to the development model. Hoping to turn his attention to the project in front of us, I traced a blank area in his development plan between two larger buildings. It confirmed what I had suspected. He needed our property to ensure his development had uninterrupted flow. “This is our property right here. One of them,” I amended. “One we might be willing to sell.”
“If?” he probed.
“If the price is right, of course. And I do mean right,” I added with a pointed look. “It’s clear this an important piece of land in your proposed development. We won’t be letting it go for anything less than market.”
“I might be able to offer you something else in exchange for a lower sale price,” he suggested. “Maybe a piece of the equity partnership?”
“That might be something that interests Ivan,” I replied. Even though it was a tempting offer and one that would increase our net worth substantially, Ivan had been very clear that he had absolutely no intention of doing any sort of business with Mueller. I was to come here, make nice, and then regretfully decline the offer to do business.
Mueller smiled as if he had already won. “I’m sure we can work something out to your satisfaction.”
I plucked a business card from my purse and handed it to him. “Send me some numbers, and we’ll talk.”
“I look forward to negotiating with you.”
“We’ll see.” I took one of the glossy brochures from the end of the table and tucked it
into my purse on the way out the door. Kir stood as soon as he saw me, and we headed straight for the elevator, neither of us looking back.
As the elevator descended, I couldn’t shake the weird feeling of being alone with a man who seemed so boringly normal but who held such hateful, evil ideas. How many other people did I cross paths with every single day who believed the same vile things?
“So,” Kir said after we were safely inside my SUV, “was it like the Berghof in there?”
I shot him a strange look. “You sure know a lot about Nazis.”
“History Channel,” he explained. “I have trouble sleeping, and that’s usually the only interesting shit on television. It’s all World War II, ancient aliens and conspiracy theories.”
“Well, sorry to let you down, but his office was exactly what you would expect from any CEO. Black leather. Lots of metal. Blond wood tones. Bland as hell.”
“Huh,” Kir remarked, seemingly stumped. “I guess I thought he would be more...” He trailed off as he searched for the right word. “Villainous.”
I huffed with amusement. “You mean, like, Dr. Evil? A lair or something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Okay, Kir, I hope that if Ivan asks you to work as my babysitter again you accept because the conversations we’ve had today have been an absolute treat.” All day he had surprised me with witty observations and funny stories. “Tell me about these ancient aliens...”
Kir enthusiastically launched into a lecture about the Book of Genesis, the Book of Ezekiel and Urim and Thummim. He had circumstantial evidence to back up his wild theories, things like the Nazca Lines and pictograms in the Urals. By the time we arrived at the Warehouse, I was honestly starting to doubt the accepted history of the pyramids.
“I’ll send you some links,” he promised. “Get ready to fall down the alien rabbit hole,” he called out before getting into his truck and heading home.
Amused by his slightly unhinged theories but also the tiniest bit anxious that aliens really did walk among us, I entered the Warehouse and removed my sunglasses. The afternoon training blocks were well underway, and the sounds of men grappling, coaches barking orders, and the aggressive music Ivan preferred after lunch echoed off the high ceilings.
Ivan was easy to find. His deep voice carried over the others as he clapped his hands and called a stop to the grappling happening on the mats. Barefooted, he stepped onto the mats and tapped the shoulder of the newest fighter to join our camp. Davor had come to Houston with his older brother Dragan who had signed to play with the Rockets. Both brothers were big. Dragan, the basketball player, was taller than Ivan, Sergei, and Ten. He sometimes came to the Warehouse to work out or watch Davor train.
Cody, the fighter who had been training with Davor, took a water break. Ivan slipped into his place and began to teach and correct Davor. In moments like this, watching the way he patiently explained and practiced with his fighters, I saw a glimpse of our future as parents. Ivan was so ready to be a father, and I hoped with every fiber of my being that someday I would stand here on the edge of the gym floor and watch him teach our son or daughter how to defend themselves.
I spotted Ruby coming out of the utility room with a stack of freshly laundered towels. She placed them on the shelves outside the locker rooms and took the hamper crammed with dirty towels back to the washers. Pleasantly surprised to see her working so hard, I made my way across the gym to the office.
My feet were aching, and I dropped into my desk chair and kicked off my red suede pumps. They were a gorgeous pair of shoes, but they murdered my arches and pinky toes. I flexed my feet and sighed with relief, all the while wondering if I could convince Ivan to rub my feet later. Of course, he would start with my feet and end up with his hands somewhere much higher.
“Hey! You’re back.” Ruby swept into the office. She picked up my purse from the chair where I had left it and sat down with it on her lap. “How were all your meetings?”
“Boring, but at least, I had Kir with me for entertainment.”
“He’s funny?”
“He is.”
“He talks?” She narrowed her eyes. “Like actual words?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? Because when I met him the other day, he grunted and that’s it.”
I shrugged. “Sounds like that’s more on you than him.”
“What could he possibly have to talk that you would find interesting?”
“Ancient astronauts.”
“Oh, come on!” Ruby laughed. “Really?”
“Yep. He’s sending me some links later.”
“Oh, lord! Please promise me you’re not going to turn into one of those Area 51 loonies!”
“No promises. He had some convincing arguments.”
She shook her head. “And so it begins.”
Laughing, I signed into the gym’s email and started sorting through my inbox. “What do you think of working here?”
“It’s okay.”
I could tell she was trying to play it cool so I didn’t push. “Nobody has hassled you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ivan laid down the law.”
I grinned. “Yeah, he’s like that.”
“Overprotective?”
“Yes.” I tried to concentrate on the emails in my inbox, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Teague. Needing to tell someone, I said, “I saw Teague.”
She frowned. “Where?”
“At Mueller’s office.”
“Teague was with that Himmler wannabe?”
“Yes! I mean—that's weird, right? Did you ever...? Like...did I just not see it?”
“I told you he was trouble. Do you remember? Your second date, right? I told you that he was hiding something, and you wouldn’t listen.”
“To be fair, your judgment wasn’t exactly the best at the time.”
“Neither was yours considering how Teague turned out,” she shot back.
Instead of being mad, I smiled. “It’s kind of nice to sit here and have you snark back at me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are so sappy.”
“And?”
“Don’t expect me to start talking about my feelings.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She stood up, put my purse back on the seat, and wandered over to the security system monitors. “Do you think he’s in on it?”
“Who? Teague?”
She nodded. “You told me knew what those men said to you in the parking lot attack. He wasn’t there, obviously, because you would have recognized him, but he may know the guys who did it. Maybe they’re Mueller’s guys, too.”
“Maybe,” I said, thinking she was probably right. “Do you think the guard who hurt you—Kavanaugh—is part of Mueller’s organization?”
She turned away, putting all of her attention on the monitors. After a tense moment, she said, “He has a pair of lightning bolts on his chest and 1488 on his neck, under his collar. There was something else on his leg, but I never got a clear look at it.”
She never got a clear look at it while she was being raped.
My heart broke, and my stomach ached painfully at the way my sister had suffered. I rose from my seat and crossed the office to stand by her. She roughly wiped the tears from her eyes but let me embrace her. I didn’t know what to say. There weren’t any words that could take away her pain and trauma. I could only hope that showing her love would ease some of her sufferings.
“There were others,” she whispered, clinging to me so tightly I knew there would be bruises where her fingers had been. “Other women and other guards.”
I hadn’t told her about the voicemail yet. “On New Year’s Eve, while we were at Denim and Diamonds, I got a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize. I didn’t hear it until the next morning, but it was a woman. She was crying and begging for help and mercy. She was being beaten, I think, and probably worse.”
Her arms tightened even more, squeezing me so hard I could hardl
y draw breath into my lungs. Trembling, she confessed, “They filmed it.”
My heartbeat stuttered. “Filmed the rapes?”
“Yes,” she answered, crying harder. “To sell. On the black market.”
I couldn’t even imagine what type of depraved mind wanted to watch rapes and beatings.
“But only of the women who were waiting for ICE.”
“What do you mean?” I managed to free myself enough to stare into her face. “You mean, like, immigration?”
“Yeah.” She wiped her face. “I heard about it when I was in the infirmary. There were two women in the beds next to mine, and they were talking about one of their friends going missing somewhere in the jail. They were speaking Spanish, so maybe they assumed I wouldn’t understand, or maybe they were hoping I would so someone else would know.”
“How do you go missing in jail? Aren’t there roll calls? Cameras monitoring everything?”
“I think that’s why they stick with the women who are waiting to be transferred to immigration for deportation,” she explained. “It’s easier to lose someone like that.”
“And then those women get sent home, and no one will ever hear their stories.”
“Exactly.”
“Did they only target those women? Why did he go after you?”
She seemed to waver between telling the truth and refusing to speak. Closing her eyes, she confessed, “I did something so stupid.”
“Hey,” I said, rubbing her back, “it’s okay, Ruby. Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter. Okay? I only care about keeping you safe and putting a stop to what’s happening inside the jail.”
“You’re going to be so fucking angry with me,” she whined and starting crying harder. “You’ve been so supportive and proud of me and I fucked up so bad and I’ve been lying the whole time.”
Over her shoulder, I noticed Ivan coming into the office. He took one step into the room, saw the situation and put up both hands. Silently, he backed away and closed the door with the barest hint of a click as the lock caught. Safe inside and our privacy guaranteed, I grabbed her hand and led her to the small couch on the far wall of the office. Tugging her down next to me, I held both hands and waited for her to look me in the eye. “Ruby, I will still love you and support you and be proud of you no matter what you tell me.”
