Mouse did not look at the detective. Nick knew it was common for victims to avoid eye contact with authority figures. Especially when those figures happened to be males. She maintained her passive avoidance.
“We want to help, but you’ve got to tell us somethin’, hun,” Jones said, pressing the girl a bit harder. He dropped in the drawl for added effect.
“Did you know him?” Anaya said, hoping to offer up some assistance by rephrasing the question.
Nick said nothing. He watched and listened. It wouldn’t be productive for him to speak. The sign of a seasoned investigator is knowing when to use silence.
Mouse looked down. And then an almost imperceptive movement of her head. She slowly shook it from side to side. Had he not been watching intently, Nick would have missed the girl’s first attempt at communication with the group.
Jones’s observant eye caught it too, and he responded, “So you didn’t know the guy? Then why’d he pick you up?”
“Did you ask for a ride from the man?” Anaya said.
Nick watched Jones and Anaya transition the lead while questioning the girl. It was obvious from the synchronous questioning that they’d deployed this tactic in the past. It was a watered-down version of good cop/bad cop.
Mouse shook her head again. This time the movement was more noticeable. A sign that she was becoming more comfortable with the people in the room. An indication that a connection was being made. Nick evaluated body language with as much scrutiny as he did the spoken word.
“So, you didn’t know him? And you didn’t ask for a ride? Then how’d you end up in the car?” Jones asked, looking for some answer that would clear the mystery.
Nick caught Jones’s attention and gestured toward the door with a cock of his head, indicating he wanted to talk outside the room. Jones registered the request and stood up from the desk. The two slipped out and closed the door, leaving Anaya alone with her.
“So, she’s on the run and happens to get picked up by a guy she doesn’t know. Then the guy ends up crashing and dying while she runs away again,” Nick said, quietly.
“Well, what are we missing?” Jones asked, running his fingers through his thinning hairline.
“You and I both know something’s off here. She may not have known him, but there was definitely a reason she got in that car. There has to be some link,” Nick said. His mind raced to connect the dots.
“I’ve got it,” Jones said.
Without explaining, he reentered the room. Anaya was speaking quietly but in his haste Jones interrupted.
“You didn’t know him, but you know who he works for?”
“Yes,” Mouse said.
Her voice was low but what she lacked in volume she made up for in conviction. Mouse twisted slightly in her seat so she could direct her answer to the rotund detective.
“I’ll be damned. She speaks!” Jones exclaimed.
“Where is she now?” the Pastor asked.
His voice was steady, but the lack of inflection worried Cain.
“The Heathen is at the Child Protective Services building. I’m down the street,” Cain said.
He tried to show confidence, hoping to demonstrate to the Pastor that he was worthy of another opportunity. His right hand rotated the pocket knife. He registered the embossed lettering as his thumb caressed it, tempted to relieve his tension as he awaited the Pastor’s judgment.
“You are my Hand. If you falter, then so shall I. The Lord has spoken to me and you shall be granted another pass,” the Pastor said.
Cain bathed himself in the words. His eyes watered. Another opportunity given. A second chance at redemption.
“Remember, my son, those who stand in the way of you are defying God’s will. Bring the Heathen forth so that she may be judged!” the Pastor boomed.
These last words echoed through the phone as if standing on the pulpit. The call then abruptly ended.
Cain felt an exhilaration. Service is its own reward. He vowed that he would not fail again.
Chapter 27
His fingers pressed deep into the neoprene surface and his back was straight. Downward dog seemed so simple now but had eluded him for the first few months. He’d watched Val slip into the position with ease, but every time he saw his reflection in the glass doors of the bookcase in their living room, he looked nothing like her. It took time for his body to find the feel of the positions. But once he did, it unlocked something inside him.
Enya blared through his earbuds, carrying him away as he embraced his ritual of sequential movements. Typically, Declan did his yoga before anyone was awake. He’d found the sweet spot in his life was 4:00 am. A time before the chaos of the day had begun, but sometimes even his early morning schedule went awry, as this Sunday morning had. Because of the raid on J’s Pizza shop earlier, he was now trying to fit his routine in while his girls were eating their lunch. The giggles coming from the kitchen were as soothing to him as the music in his ears. He smiled.
The phone vibrated twice on the floor in front of him, indicating a text message. Declan did not like being a slave to the phone, but his role on the Bureau’s HRT dictated otherwise. The unit remained on an on-call status. And they’d been busy hunting any connections to The Seven. Luckily, today’s mission took place in Hartford, enabling Declan to get home early after he wrapped up his debrief.
He glanced at the name accompanying the message. Dropping to his knees, he ended his routine and picked up the phone to read it.
Izzy: Call me.
Declan sat on the mat and spoke softly into the phone, trying hard not alert the children to the interruption to his routine. He knew if they thought he was done with his workout, then they would come barreling in to play.
“Hey there! So, what’d you find out?” Declan said in almost a whisper, tucking the phone between his shoulder and ear.
“You were right. Something is definitely off with him,” Izzy said.
“Did he give any indication as to what it might be?” Declan asked.
“He said it was related to a case. Something bad, but he gave no details. He was very aloof,” Izzy said.
Her frustration bled through the receiver in the form of an exaggerated series of sighs.
“That’s weird. We chased a damn terrorist around the country and Nick never seemed fazed. I wonder what’s got him so messed up,” Declan said.
“Me too. He did tell me that he had unfinished business in Texas. Never let on to what it was or what he meant by it,” Izzy said. “To be honest, he always held back a bit when he talked about his time out West. Ya know? Kind of guarded.”
“Hmm. So, what’s the play?” Declan asked, eager to help his friend.
“Not sure. If you’re around later, let’s meet up for a quick bite. I always think more clearly with a little food in my belly,” Izzy suggested.
“Absolutely. There’s a great little spot here on Main Street. How does Village Pizza sound?” Declan asked.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you at six. If that works?” Izzy asked.
“Six it is. See you then,” Declan said.
He turned on his music and resumed his routine, picking up where he’d left off. But it was too late. His three girls appeared before him, smiling their toothy smiles. The workout over, Declan conceded to their silent request for play. Laney stood off to the side and watched as Ripley and Abigail climbed onto his back.
The three stared at the small girl. Their eyes squinting and peering at her, like mentalists trying to see into her mind. All done with the intent to gauge how to best help her circumstances.
“You’re a real challenge for us. You are a flight risk, so we can’t put you in a traditional setting. You’d disappear from any family we put you with and there is no way I’m putting you in a group home. Not after the ordeals you’ve been through. And it’s all made worse by the fact that you’re in danger,” Anaya said. Her words were spoken to the girl but directed at the group.
“She’s going to need pr
otection. A round-the-clock kind of deal. I don’t think your agency is capable of providing that,” Jones said.
Anaya’s head pulled back and her brow furrowed. Jones realized he may have come off a bit harsher than intended and quickly interjected, “No offense meant. Hell, I don’t even know if we’d be able to keep this one safe.”
“None taken. I agree. She is in need of a protective detail and a place to hide until we can figure this thing out,” Anaya said.
“We don’t even know who’s after her. That would be a nice place to start, but one thing is for certain, I don’t think they’re going to give up the hunt,” Nick said, tension in his voice.
“Agreed,” Jones said.
Jones rubbed his belly subconsciously. Hunger always came to him in moments of stress. Maybe that’s why he’d let his pants out twice since becoming a member of the sex crimes unit. Each case serious and each victim important.
“She could stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom,” Nick offered.
He smirked at the awkwardness of the invitation. He’d never taken in a victim before and knew it would definitely violate some protocols. But working outside of agency directives was not something new to him.
Mouse adjusted in her seat, twisting her body so she could make eye contact with the FBI agent. She said nothing. Her face was unreadable.
“I’ll stay with you too,” Anaya said, too eagerly.
Her eyes glanced around the room, trying to determine if the others had noticed the trace of enthusiasm of her comment. Blushing, her light brown cheeks took on the color of an autumn leaf.
Anaya continued, “I just meant that I think Mouse would be more comfortable if I were to remain with her.”
Mouse nodded but didn’t look away from Nick. She was still evaluating him. She stared directly into his light blue eyes, unblinking as though peering into his soul.
“So, I guess I’m the odd man out,” Jones said, with a laugh.
“You’re welcome to come too, but I’m going to be honest, either you or Anaya are going to be playing rock-paper-scissors for the couch,” Nick said, chuckling.
“No, I’m just kidding. My ex is dropping my son off tonight. It’s my week. So, a teenage girl in my house with my teenage boy is a definite no go,” Jones said.
Nick noticed that Anaya started drumming her fingers on the desktop uncomfortably at the mention of Jones’s ex-wife. It was nothing overt. Her eyes closed just a fraction longer than a blink. The subtlety of the micro-gesture told a deeper story. Nick was intrigued but not sure he wanted the answer. Sometimes he felt it was a curse that he was able to read people so well.
“I’m guessing we’re in agreement to keep this plan off the record?” Anaya asked.
“Absolutely. No boss is going to approve it,” Nick said.
“Mouse, are you okay with this?” Anaya asked.
Mouse nodded.
“If anyone asks, I’m just going to say that CPS is handling her,” Jones said.
“And I’ll say that she is at APD headquarters for an interview,” Anaya said.
“It sounds like we are a bunch of high schoolers planning to sneak out to a kegger,” Nick said, laughing.
“Mouse, I’m going to need you to trust us. That means, you can’t run away from us again. We can’t protect you if we can’t find you,” Anaya said.
She leaned forward in the direction of the girl as she spoke and the movement loosened the shoulder strap of her blouse, exposing the light pink strap of her bra. The contrast in color to her dark brown skin was enthralling, and Nick quickly averted his eyes so as not to betray his sudden interest in the woman seated before him.
“Then it’s settled. You two will look out for our little friend tonight and we’ll reconvene in the morning,” Jones said, grimacing as he looked down at his watch. “I have a standing order with the guys at headquarters that if any of the other girls start talking, we are to be notified immediately. And Homicide will call if they catch a break.”
They ambled out of the CPS office. Jones smiled and gave a two-fingered salute as he headed off in the direction of his car. Nick and Anaya stood silently and looked at each other for a moment before walking to his Jetta.
“We’re going to need to grab some food on the way over to my place. It’s a pretty sparse situation in my fridge right now,” Nick said, embarrassed.
He was suddenly concerned about the impression his meager apartment would have on Anaya. It’s not like we’re going on a date. But maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. He pushed the thought from his head and refocused on the task ahead. Protecting Mouse from whoever was hunting her.
He started to doze off. The afternoon’s sun had dipped behind the white concrete exterior of the Child Protective Services building. Cain’s eyes, no longer squinting against the brightness, suddenly grew heavy. He’d trained himself to stay awake for days at a time. He prided himself on his control and was mad at himself for his momentary slip now. His neck cracked, releasing the tension built over the last several hours of sitting. The black Jetta that the Heathen had arrived in sat unmoved in the parking lot.
He adjusted the volume on the dashboard. The Pastor’s words soothed:
If one is to walk without my hand, then he is alone. Alone to enter the darkness. Susceptible to its pull. Take hold. Allow my mighty grip to embrace your mortal fingers. Should you stumble, then you will feel my strength. For in the darkness I never waver. My light burns eternal. Those that follow it will stay the path. And my path is the Way!
As if on cue, the front doors of the CPS headquarters opened. The Heathen exited, surrounded by the same three he’d seen earlier. The friend of my enemy is my enemy.
Chapter 28
The apartment’s temperature was not much different than outside. But after working up a light sweat from climbing the three flights of stairs to get to the door, the ceiling fans running full speed did give a slight reprieve. Nick hustled in ahead of Anaya and Mouse. He cleared off the small round dining table adjacent to his living room and spread the food out. He tossed the stack of mail and magazines into a haphazard pile on the floor.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” Nick said, apologetically.
“No need to explain. My place is pretty much the same. I spend more time in my office or car. I don’t usually entertain guests either,” Anaya said, giving a reassuring smile.
Nick returned the smile and walked into the living room. He pulled back the blinds and opened the sliding door. A light breeze cascaded in, granting additional relief. Hard to believe it was only May and the heatwaves had already begun their assault. The word Spring held no meaning in Texas.
Mouse happily plopped in the seat with her back to the living room. She slid the padded straps free from her shoulders and laid the backpack down at her side. The weight of it was a reminder of its deadly contents. The tall agent reached down to pick the bag up and her hand involuntarily snatched at it, pulling it away and further under her seat. He retracted his hand quickly and his eyes widened with a flash of shock.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just going to put your bag in the guest room,” Nick said, diffusing the tension.
“Sorry,” Mouse said, offering no further explanation.
She refused to release her grip of the bag’s strap. She was convinced that the agent would feel the weight and know that something was off. It was a strange standoff and her heart fluttered with the anxiety of it.
Nick was looked down at the little girl, evaluating the obstinacy. He felt Anaya’s hand on his right shoulder. The weight of it snapped him out of his bewilderment. Her fingers unknowingly caressed the scars where an enemy’s rifle had long ago found its mark. He turned and faced her.
She stood close, and he could smell something sweet in the air around her. Anaya glanced down at the backpack and gave a subtle shake of her head. Nick understood. Not worth battling with the girl over it. She was in a fragile state, and it had probably become her security b
lanket.
“I’ve got a couple bottles of wine. Shiraz or Merlot?” Nick offered, breaking the tension.
He gestured over to the cheaply made wooden wine rack set atop the counter. The sparse selection of wine sat next to an overly-ripened banana that clung to the hanger from its blackened stem.
“I’m a sucker for either. You chose,” Anaya said, batting her eyes slightly.
Anaya had a playfulness when she spoke with Nick that bordered on flirtatious. He liked it.
“Shiraz it is then. A favorite of my departed father,” Nick said.
Nick reached into a cabinet above the rack and retrieved two stemmed wine glasses. He set them on the counter and began rummaging a drawer for the corkscrew.
“When did he pass?”
“A couple years ago,” Nick said.
“Sorry to hear that. I never really knew my parents. And what I do remember, I’d rather forget,” Anaya said. “I don’t typically speak about my past. To be honest I don’t know why I feel so comfortable to do so with you.”
“To pasts, good or bad, may they stay where they belong,” Anaya said, directing the conversation away from personal landmines.
The clank of the wine glasses was louder than expected, and Mouse looked up with a mouthful of cheeseburger. She looked more like a chipmunk than a mouse in her current feeding frenzy. She then went back to the food, grabbing a handful of fries. Nick and Anaya watched the small girl inhale the feast in front of her.
“You can shower or take a bath after dinner if you’d like?” Nick offered.
Mouse nodded. She leaned over her food. Her left arm a barrier between the two adults and the pile of French fries. Nick had seen inmates eat in a similar fashion. A primal need to protect their rations from the vultures.
“Take your time, hun. We’re not in any rush. Eat, get cleaned up, and if you want, you can watch some television until you get tired,” Nick said.
Mouse nodded again. She slowed her rate of consumption, but only slightly.
It was a nice apartment complex. The lighted pool looked inviting with its decorative fountain spitting water into the warm air of the evening. A couple sat closely in the hot tub, oblivious to the man in the Range Rover. The SUV was off, and the windows cracked slightly. He sat looking up toward the third-floor apartment. No binoculars were needed. Nor would they be prudent.
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