Beneath the Layers

by Caitlyn Willows

  “Zach called you. That’s why you suddenly needed my help with the trunk.”

  Jess’ answer was to shrug. It was all part of the family connection. They’d probably been laughing their asses off over the whole thing.

  “How did you finally come to your revelation?” Jess carved off a bite of omelet. “Don’t spare the details.”

  “Because everyone’s waiting for the full report?”

  Jess laughed. “You are smart.” He shoved his food in his mouth.

  Kurt told him everything while they ate. Well, almost everything. He kept the sex to himself. Jess could fill in the blanks, and judging from his silence, Jess wasn’t happy. Whether that was because they’d lost time or because of Kurt’s developing relationship with Midge, he didn’t know. Being with her compromised his initial assignment. Kurt couldn’t pursue this femme fatale with the same vigor now. He wouldn’t cheat on Midge, not even for the job. They were doing this—trying to be a couple. Phone numbers had been exchanged and all that—the real numbers, not burners. Making that clear to Jess wasn’t going to earn him points.

  “I put Anders on this blackmailing case. I want you focused on the ketamine.”

  Kurt sighed with relief and prayed Jess didn’t catch it. “Anders has been chomping at the bit to do something.”

  “He’s new enough to the area and knows disguises as well as you do. He should be able to keep a low profile.”

  If not, Jamison Anders was a dead man.

  Decision made, they could move beyond the silence as they finished eating.

  “What’s the latest word from the DEA on the ketamine shipment?” he asked.

  “Not good. They know the bulk of the stuff is in the Twentynine Palms area, and it’s only a matter of time until it hits the streets.” Jess turned his coffee spoon over and over on the tabletop as he spoke, an unconscious movement that revealed his inner worries. “DEA agents don’t have the access we do to move around subtly on a military base. That’s why they’re depending on us to work with their local contact and determine if the shipment has reached here or not.”

  “They believe it’ll be distributed soon,” Kurt said, more to himself than to Jess. “That means we’re rushed for time.”

  “You’ll be able to hit the ground running on this come Monday. DEA’s man will meet with you and Vic around noon or so.” His gaze caught Kurt’s. “His name is Everest. Anders had worked with him in the past.”

  Jess paused to allow Wanda to leave the bill on the edge of their table. He picked up the tab, examined it, then left it and a pile of cash next to the salt shaker.

  “This is our priority. I don’t want your burgeoning romance getting in the way. Got it?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  Kurt swallowed the rest of his now-tepid coffee. Though he meant what he’d just said to Jess, all he could think about getting back to Midge. He had two days before Monday and he intended to take full advantage of them.

  * * * *

  Midge missed Kurt the minute he’d left the bed—his warmth, his scent, the way he curled around her as he slept. She hugged his pillow, hoping to drift back to sleep, but she was too excited to see him again. They’d planned to spend the day decorating their respective homes for Christmas before they headed off for a night in Palm Springs. The shackles from her past were off, and with them, the weight she’d carried on her shoulders. There’d be no more hiding from the world. Her reward was the man she’d been craving for two long months.

  Giddiness welled up inside her. It was time to put her nervous energy to good use. She tossed the covers aside and leaped from the bed. As much as she disliked running, a jog in the crisp morning air was what she needed. If she timed it correctly, she could be home and showered before Kurt returned.

  She pulled her hair into a ponytail, then tugged on black sweatpants and a red USMC sweatshirt. Ooo-rah. She strapped on her watch, laced up her running shoes and trotted down the stairs, hoping the thuds woke Bernadette.

  The wind was brisk, pushing the predicted storm into position. As she stretched her muscles, she debated her options and decided to risk it. A three-mile run wouldn’t take all that long. After setting the timer on her watch, she started down the street—the sole inhabitant this early morning. She’d mapped out a series of challenging runs that kept her from being too bored yet helped improved her endurance.

  Midge cut across the isolated desert road and turned onto the paved street, something she wouldn’t have risked on a busy weekday. Traffic and the inattentive drivers that went with it were too dangerous. But on Saturday morning it was mostly deserted. If she ran this road for two miles, she could cut over to another dirt road that swung around on the three-mile loop back to her own street. It would also take her past the Lost Oasis, a couple of blocks ahead.

  She wrinkled her nose. She’d had more than her fill of that place for the time being. The only good thing that had come from that night was Kurt. Her body tightened at the thought of him and everything they’d done since. It felt like ages ago yet had only been two days. As she neared the building, she saw a man splayed out on one of the concrete benches, arm dangling.

  She slowed to a stop, running in place, undecided. Was he a homeless person? If so, where was his shopping cart? Stolen? That would have been cruel. It might have been one of the club’s last customers, too drunk to make it to his car. But there were no cars in the parking lot, so that couldn’t be the case.

  He could be dangerous. Maybe armed.

  For pity’s sake, you’re a Marine and fully capable of defending yourself.

  If he gave her trouble, she’d just break his legs—or run like hell.

  “Okay, here we go.”

  She trotted along the edge of the parking lot, trying to get a better view of him. He was facedown. The hand that dangled to the ground was battered and bruised and the knuckles torn and bloody. His white-blond hair was matted with blood.

  Midge paused. Few had hair that color. Jeremy.

  She sprinted the remaining distance to his side. “Jeremy, it’s Midge.” When he remained unresponsive, she gently rolled him over.

  A gasp lodged in her throat. His face was a mask of dried blood, cheeks battered and bruised, lips split. Someone had thoroughly and methodically beaten the hell out of him. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Fresh sweat broke out on her forehead.

  She touched the side of his neck, ignoring the stickiness, and tried to feel for his carotid artery. After fumbling past his blood-soaked shirt collar, she found a weak pulse.

  Thank God. “Jeremy, you need to wake up.”

  He groaned and coughed up blood before curling into a fetal position with his arms wrapped around his stomach. He opened his eyes a crack. They flickered back and forth until they lit upon her face.

  “Midge,” he whispered pitifully. He hacked again, bringing up more blood, then passed out.

  She had to get him to a hospital and she’d left her cell phone at home. That habit had to change. Midge spied a pay phone on the side of the building but didn’t have any change with her. A pat-down of Jeremy’s jean pockets came up empty—no wallet, no cell phone, no money. The only thing she found was a matchbook-sized baggie. It had a grayish, flaky substance inside. Ketamine. She’d seen enough of it in evidence bags to recognize it.

  Jeremy moaned softly. Midge slipped the packet into the waistband of her sweatpants. Could she call 9-1-1 without money? Run back to her house?

  The sound of tires crunching on the driveway drew her attention to the white sedan coming to a stop in the parking lot. Midge froze, fearful. Relief poured through her when she realized it was Kurt. He shoved the door open and hurried her way. His gaze cut to Jeremy’s limp form.

  “Any idea what happened to him?” He squatted beside them, reaching for Jeremy’s pulse as she had.

  “I don’t know. I was on a run and found him. He regained consciousness long enough say my name. I don’t have my phone with me. No change, either. I was trying
to figure out what to do.”

  He checked Jeremy’s face, then lifted his shirt. Jeremy’s ribs were tattooed with deep purple bruises and red welts.

  “Probably has a few broken ribs, but we can’t be sure there’s not more internal damage. He’d be dead weight to move and doing so might hurt him more. I’ll call 9-1-1.”

  He did more than that, in her opinion. He flexed his NCIS muscles as well. It might not get the paramedics here any quicker, but it did alert local law enforcement of a potential conflict of interest—a Marine had been attacked in the civilian community.

  “This could be a while and the sky’s about to open up any second. Why don’t you take my car and go home? I’ll call you when we’re done or walk over. It’s not that far. I might even be able to get the deputy to give me a ride. He’ll want to get your statement.”

  Guilt and indecision warred in her head. “Jeremy called last night before you got there, wanting to come over to talk about something. I gaffed him off. I was so damned tired of his and Susan’s crap. If I’d agreed—”

  “You could be lying somewhere beaten half to death…or worse.”

  Kurt had a point.

  “I feel like I deserted him.”

  He cupped her shoulder. “You’re leaving him in good hands, sweetheart. Help is on the way. Go home. Clean up.”

  She glanced at her bloody hands. “I’ll get your car messed up.”

  He moved his hand to her cheek. “I carry a bottle of water with me at all times. Use it to wash the blood off.”

  Sirens reached them. Help would be here at any minute. There wasn’t anything else she could do. “His name is Jeremy Forton. He’s a private first class with Tanks.”

  “I know.”

  Of course he’d know. Jeremy wasn’t known for staying out of trouble.

  “At least sit in my car,” Kurt asked. “It’s getting colder by the second.”

  She glanced at the gathering clouds and a snowflake kissed her nose. A shiver rattled through her. Kurt cupped her elbow and stood, taking her with him. She clutched her stomach, trying to hold in her fear and shock. Her watch beeped twice, indicating her workout was over. If she left Kurt, he’d be without protection from the storm. If she sat in his car until this was over, she’d drive herself insane with anxiety.

  “I think I need to run home,” she said.

  “I understand completely.” He dropped a kiss to her lips. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  After a nod, she trotted toward the road, then broke into a hard run, taking a shortcut home. She hit her door ten minutes later, no better than she’d been before. After washing the blood from her hands, she chugged a glass a water, debating whether or not to call Susan. Common courtesy decreed she should, but it was the last thing she wanted to do. Manners won out.

  Midge leaned against the kitchen counter and called. Susan picked up midway through the fourth ring.

  “This better be good,” she grumbled. “It’s not even close to noon. I’m barely awake.”

  That was sadly too true. Susan’s late nights took a toll. Midge tamped down her irritation and told her about Jeremy.

  “I’m sure he had it coming. Is that all?”

  Her lack of compassion hit a nerve. Midge was done with her nonsense. It was definitely time for new friends.

  “No, it isn’t. The presumed friendship between us isn’t really working for me. It’s time we parted ways.”

  “You little bitch,” she snarled. “You’re kicking me to the curb? You wouldn’t have gotten laid if it weren’t for me.”

  Midge hated that she was right. “I’ll return your things to you on Monday.”

  Susan snorted. “You’ll never keep him without it.”

  Excuse me? “For your information, Kurt likes me the way I am.”

  Laughter exploded through the phone. “He’s only saying that for the sex. You are so fucking naïve.”

  “You know what, Susan? We’re done.”

  Midge ended the call and aimed for the shower, stripping as she walked up the stairs. Kurt could return at any moment and she didn’t want him to have to wait outside. Leaving the door unlocked was out of the question.

  Something crunched under her foot when she hit the second floor. The packet of ketamine. She’d forgotten all about it. She picked it up by the corner and held it up

  “What the hell were you thinking, Jeremy?”

  The answer was clear—he hadn’t been thinking. In any event, Kurt needed to know about this. She returned downstairs to call him. The sound of Bernadette’s engine roaring in the garage stopped Midge in her tracks. It might still be some time before Kurt could get here. She couldn’t risk Bernadette barging in and finding it. If she even suspected Midge had a packet containing an illegal substance…

  Midge didn’t want to think about those ramifications. She’d hide it with the wine until Kurt arrived.

  Handling the bag by its corner, she slipped it snugly into the center of Sense and Sensibility. When closed, the pages only showed the slightest gap. It would have to do.

  She showered in record time and found Hades sitting outside the bathroom door waiting with that half-lidded gaze indicating he’d been napping. A big yawn backed up her theory. Midge rubbed his ears and walked on to her bedroom. Hades trotted ahead and jumped to his perch on the window. His lazy meow and the flick of his tail drew her attention. The snow was really coming down.

  “No birds and squirrels today, big guy.”

  As she brushed her hand down his back, the electricity flicked off, on, off and, thankfully, back on. She hurried to dry her hair, then dressed in the warmest clothes she could find—dark green sweater, jeans and thick wool socks. Contacts were next. Wearing them empowered her. It felt good to be alive again.

  “Makeup later. I need coffee.” Before the electricity went out. She’d fill her thermos bottles.

  A fire would have been nice, too, but she had no wood for the fireplace.

  Midge grabbed her phone on the way to the kitchen and sent Kurt a text.

  Could you bring wood with you?

  She realized the double entendre the instant she hit Send. Kurt’s response was quick.

  I won’t be a smart ass. It’s too damn cold. I’ll hit the grocery store. Almost done. Paramedics just took him to base hospital. They’ll stabilize him then most likely send him down to Desert Regional in Palm Springs.

  Relief sighed through her. She hoped he made it and that they could find out who’d done this to him. Hunger rumbled her stomach as she set the coffee to brew. Kurt had already eaten, so there was no sense in waiting for him. Midge grabbed a raisin bagel and returned to her bedroom to put on a little makeup. She’d just put the finishing touches on her mascara when the doorbell rang.

  “That’s probably Kurt.”

  Hades perked up at the news and shot from the room. Laughing, she followed. His hiss reached her seconds before she found him sitting in the window, back arched, fur bristled out.

  Not Kurt.

  Heart pounding, she crept to the peephole. A muscular man bundled in a black leather jacket stared back. He’d hunched his shoulders in what she guessed was a vain attempt to shield himself from the wind whipping his dark brown hair in all directions. He had a bright red clipboard tucked under his left arm and clutched a pen in his gloved hand. After ensuring the chain lock was in place, she opened the door a crack. Snowfall slanted her way, carried on the wind.

  “Can I help you?”

  The man offered a wide smile that didn’t translate to his brown eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I’m with the city checking on an application for vacation rentals.”

  On a Saturday? Her apprehension tripled.

  “Are you Bernadette McFee?” He tapped his clipboard with his pen.

  “She lives in the other house.” Midge jerked her head toward it.

  The man’s brow furrowed. “Are you a tenant or renting as a vacation home?”

  “Tenant.”

  He made a slow
, careful mark on his clipboard. She stretched her neck to see the form, but he guarded it too well.

  “And your name is?”

  “Michelle Ellis.” Gusts blew a flurry of snow through the door and shot cold through her clothing.

  “No one else lives here with you?” He craned his neck and peered over her shoulder. “It’s freezing out here, ma’am. Perhaps I could come in and ask you some more questions?”

  “Do I look crazy?” she snapped. “Go away before I call the sheriff’s office.”

  She shut the door and secured the deadbolt. She watched through the peephole and saw him get into a silver sedan. He sat there scribbling notes into a small booklet.

  “I should have asked for a business card, Hades. I ought to go out there and get his license plate.”

  Hades meowed.

  “Yeah, I know. That would make me too stupid to live.”

  He responded with another small mew.

  “Cold, too. I hate being cold.”

  His brreow made her smile. It was her favorite sound of his. She stepped away from the door.

  “Coffee’s done. Time for a cup. Need food in your bowl?”

  That normally got his attention. Instead, his ear perked and he stretched his neck. Anticipation widened his eyes.

  “Ah…your boyfriend’s home.”

  Hades quivered.

  “I know that feeling well.”

  Midge returned to the peephole. Kurt had a bundle of wood in each hand and a glower directed at the departing sedan. She opened the door.

  “He said he was from the city and tried to worm his way into the house.”

  His frown deepened. “Bastard. I’ve got his license plate now.”

  “Need help? I can put on some shoes.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  He trudged through the snow, nowhere close to the sidewalk. She couldn’t even find it under the blanket of white.

  “Deputy sheriffs are right behind me. The grade is closed. We won’t be going down to Palm Springs tonight.”

  “I’m good with that.” She stood to one side to let him in. “Someone is all aquiver to see you.”