Bad Company

by Jen Schoenbein

  It was enough to get my legs to swing out of the Jeep and walk up to the fire station door. The young firefighter that opened it up gave me a big smile.

  “Rhodes here?” I asked. I had swung by his house, but he wasn’t home. I was hoping he was here. It was more public, but I wanted to get it out of the way. Some things you just don’t do over the phone.

  He nodded and hollered Rhodes’ name over his shoulder.

  I saw a familiar bald head and broad shoulders lean out from a room to the left. The smile on his face dropped a bit when he saw it was me. I swallowed hard, starting to feel even worse.

  Rhodes walked toward the door, a hand towel draped over one shoulder. He must have been cooking dinner. He gave the firefighter a look that made him slide past and into one of the back rooms. Approaching me, he gave me a curious look that wasn’t altogether welcoming, but not quite reproachful.

  “Looks like you’re busy with dinner,” I hedged, a little unintentionally.

  “A bit. Everything okay?” He filled the doorway, wiping his hands on the towel.

  “Yeah,” I shifted on my feet a bit. “I just need a minute. If you have it.”

  He gave me a long look. “Sure,” and stepped out the door motioning towards the benches sitting out front.

  I walked to the bench but didn’t sit down. I turned to face him, hands twisted a bit. Made myself stop and drop my hands to my side.

  “We got the arsonist,” I started.

  “That’s good news,” he replied, giving a short nod. He didn’t sit down either. “I’m very glad to hear that. We can use less fires in the area.”

  He was still giving me a polite look. The only problem with that was that Rhodes never gave me a polite look. Gone was the playful banter and suggestive glances. Gone was the easy way he carried himself. It felt like he had shut an invisible door between us.

  Well it didn’t matter, really. Even if he didn’t forgive me, I needed to finish.

  “It seems that the arsonist had been trying to frame the Mayor, to expose some mismanagement that had led to the loss of his daughter. They’re continuing to find questionable things to look into.”

  I waved my hand in the air. “There’s more to the story than that, but that’s the gist of it.”

  “Okay,” Rhodes said, tilting his head, arms crossed. “So, what brings you here?”

  My heart sunk a little more. “Well, to set the record straight.”

  I straightened a bit and looked him right in the eyes. “You were right. There’s been no connection found to Sully. Even though I had them look.”

  “You had them look?” he asked, frowning.

  “I felt that there was enough pointing in that direction,” I explained. “But I was wrong.”

  I could tell that Rhodes was trying to decide what to say. His jaw was shifting like he was chewing his words.

  “Somewhere I lost sight of maintaining an unbiased opinion. It’s important for me to look at facts and make assumptions in my career,” I tried to get him to understand. “But I climbed the ladder too quickly. Some of my opinions were unfounded.”

  “I appreciate you telling me,” he said finally. “I’m glad Sully’s name is untarnished. He’s a good guy and doesn’t need the bad press.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed.

  “But I am still a little surprised you suggested the cops look for a connection without further evidence,” he raised a shoulder. “I thought you were still just asking questions.”

  “Well, I was,” I admitted. He really wasn’t making this easy on me. “But at that point, I thought things were wrapping up and to be honest, I was feeling pretty good about myself. The officers were pulling documents and I wanted them to know which leads I was looking into.”

  I wasn’t getting anywhere.

  “Look,” I leveled with him, adjusting my stance. “I know that doesn’t help much. I realize how bad it sounds, but I’m not going to just blow it off and leave it unsaid. I do realize I was in the wrong here.”

  Rhodes considered me and slowly nodded. “I get that. And I do appreciate you being honest with me. You didn’t have to give me all the details.” He looked down at the ground, then back at me. “But these guys are my family. We’ve been through a lot together and look out for each other.”

  I nodded in understanding. It was like that on the force, too. That had been harder to walk away from than the stable career. It was also why I clung so tightly to my friendship with Jen.

  “I understand,” I nodded, and started backing away from Rhodes. I was surprised how much his rejection hurt. I took a deep breath. “Thanks for giving me a chance to explain. And to apologize. I’ll let you get back to your dinner.”

  Rhodes frowned and slanted forward as if to stop me. But just said, “Mal.”

  I stopped, mid-turn and looked at him, resigning to the fact that I may not get a second chance.

  “I’m not saying no, Mal,” he looked at me directly with that intense gaze and inclined his head. “You put my family in jeopardy, though. I tend to be a bit protective.”

  I froze, listening, then gave him a short nod in understanding. My hands were worrying my keys.

  “I forgive you, but I can’t just jump back in where we started.”

  I nodded again, not having a lot to say. I turned to go.

  “Just give me a little time, alright?”

  I glanced back to see him giving me a small smile. I returned one as well, barely more than a corner turned up.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking right at him. “I appreciate that.”

  He inclined his head again and watched me as I turned to go. He didn’t stop me this time.

  I didn’t have the opinion that I’d be getting a phone call from him anytime soon, but at least I wasn’t worried about running into him at Mariano’s anymore.

  Oh well, what’s done was done. I had done the right thing about the whole mess. He was too, because he was being honest with me. I appreciated that.

  I drove to Mariano’s, because it was still on my mind, and picked up a salad with extra cheese and a container of olives. I really needed another job. I had a couple of emails for potential cases that I hadn't answered yet. I figured at least one of them would pan out.

  As I walked back out to the parking lot, I kept running the conversation with Rhodes over in my head. I was still glad I said what I said. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I expected. I just missed the easy-going Rhodes, full of confidence and laughing eyes. I shook my head and sadly grinned at the memory.

  I spotted my Jeep at the end of the lot and made my way around a black van. Just as I was aiming the key for the lock, the van door opened from behind me and I was grabbed from behind.

  My dropped my groceries, arms flailing in surprise. Then I dug my heels in and tried to drop to the ground. I had someone on either side, one of them had a hand over my mouth. I was being pulled into the van and I couldn’t stop their progress. I couldn’t get my arms free to fight back or to grab my ASP.

  I twisted and jerked to break free. I was able to get the hand over my mouth to budge and bit down as hard I could. A howl sounded, and I filled my lungs to scream when another hand came down on my face. I had gotten turned back around a bit and got a bit of a glimpse of my attackers. They had hoods pulled down over their faces, but in the dark I couldn’t see a lot. Just that it looked like two men.

  The man to my left was cursing about his hand and hit me in the head. I got a punch to the kidney when I kicked out. I was still fighting to get away when my feet were knocked out from underneath me and I found myself being pulled into the van. A blow came to my head and darkness followed.

  Meanwhile, in a state-of-the-art house mixed liberally with superhero memorabilia,

  “Sam. She’s still not answering,” Suzy called from the kitchen.

  “I’m sure she’s just on a stakeout or something,” Sam replied, trying to calm her.

  Suzy walked into Sam’s office, “She could at least tex
t me back. It’s really not like her.”

  “You text her often?” Sam asked.

  “Well, I have texted her,” she shrugged her shoulders, defensively.

  Suzy crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

  “When I tried her earlier, I left a text message inviting her to dinner,” Suzy explained. “So, she could have texted me back. I just tried again, and it went straight to voicemail. It’s nearly 10 o’clock.”

  Sam walked over to Suzy and rubbed her arm.

  “I’m sure everything is okay. Mal is a busy lady.”

  “I don’t know, Sam,” Suzy signed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. She had that lunch with Dr. Millwood and he was questioning her story. It just makes me wonder if something bad happened.”

  “Well, do you know any of her other friends?” Sam asked. “Doesn’t she have some cop friends? She knew Detective Rodriguez.”

  “True,” Suzy nodded, “but I didn’t get the impression she liked him very much. I think there’s some baggage there.”

  Sam nodded, “Well, I didn’t see her talk to anyone else at the station. And I don’t really know anyone else she knows. We could run by her place.”

  “I’d like that,” Suzy nodded, gazing up worriedly at Sam. “I’m probably being silly here, but it would make me feel better.”

  “I’ll go ask Wyatt to get the car started,” Sam said heading out of the room.

  Chapter 24

  I awoke with my face pressed against a hard surface and my hands tied behind my back. I lay still as I didn’t know who was in the room with me. My head swam for a few minutes and I waited until it quieted. The room smelled like stale, unwashed bodies and didn’t help the nausea from the hit to my head.

  I cracked an eyelid to see it was a wooden floor that I was laying on. A thin film of dust covered the ground. It was dark in the room and I hoped it was still Friday night. I didn’t know how much time had passed while I laid here. I couldn’t see enough to tell if I was alone, but I hadn’t heard any sounds. I risked rolling my shoulder a bit to see if anyone was waiting for me to wake.

  No one spoke, but pain shot up through my elbow to my shoulder. I slowly turned my face to look around. I was in a bedroom, on the floor next to a bed. There was a tattered blanket covering an old mattress and box springs. I could see a window, but it was boarded up from the outside. Only a sliver of moonlight came through it. As I slowly scanned the room, I confirmed that I was alone.

  I rolled back face down and struggled to get my knees pulled up beneath me. My muscles ached, and I stifled a groan. I had to scoot them just a bit farther and finally had enough leverage to press my forehead up and off the ground.

  I struggled to get upright, my head swimming again. I must have gotten hit pretty hard in the head. I tried to take stock of my injuries. I edged the tip of a tongue out to feel my lower lip. It stung in confirmation. I hated a split lip.

  Nothing felt broken and the spot on my head felt swollen. I wiggled my eyebrows and felt stiff, painful skin in reply. It felt like dried blood, but I couldn’t tell for sure with my arms behind me.

  Rolling to my hip, I slowly slid my legs out in front of me. I moved to get my heels under me to realize that I had lost one of my shoes. Of course, the one day I don’t wear boots would be the day I got kidnapped. I rolled my eyes and winced at the pain.

  I struggled for a few minutes to pull my hands under my butt, conversely wiggling and breathing through the pain in my shoulder. I was pretty sure it wasn’t dislocated, but it sure felt beat up. I finally managed to get my arms under my legs and in front of me and had to sit for a few minutes to slow my breathing. I tried to pull at the duct tape trapping my wrists, but it was wrapped tight.

  Standing up slowly, still trying to not make a sound, I moved to the door. I didn’t see any light coming from underneath it and still hadn’t heard any sounds from the house around me. I grabbed the doorknob, pressing it against the door frame so it wouldn’t jiggle. I slowly turned the knob to find it locked. Figures.

  I moved to the window and was only able to see a bit of grass through a slat in the wood. I tried opening the window, but it was painted shut. I might be able to break the seal, but it wouldn’t be quiet.

  I leaned against the wall. It didn’t look so good for me. I wondered what the hell I was going to do.

  Meanwhile, in a fully decked out security van,

  “She’s not there, either,” Suzy said, starting to get really worried. They had driven by Mal’s apartment, but her Jeep wasn’t there, and no one answered the door. Being in town already, they drove by her office as well, but still no sign of the Jeep and the lights weren’t on.

  “She could be visiting a friend or on a stakeout,” Sam offered.

  “She didn’t say she was following up on any more leads,” Suzy said. “And she’s been keeping us in the loop on the case. She just yesterday arrested the arsonist. I don’t think she’s on any other cases.”

  “Suzy,” Sam said, grabbing her hand. “Mal doesn’t tell us everything.”

  “But we’re becoming friends,” Suzy argued.

  Sam smiled at her, “even friends don’t tell each other everything.”

  “I know,” Suzy huffed, slumping in her seat. “It’s just that something feels off.

  They drove back out of town and as they passed the Roscoe Square shopping center, Suzy shouted, ““There she is!” She had seen Mal’s Jeep at Mariano’s.

  “There’s her Jeep, at least,” Wyatt corrected, ordering his guys to drive into the parking lot.

  They all piled out of the van when it pulled up next to the Jeep. Five people stood outside in the late evening, staring at the Jeep.

  “See, she was just shopping,” Sam said smiling.

  “They’re closing,” Wyatt said, starting to frown. “She should be coming out if that’s the case.”

  They all turned to the store, waiting for people to exit. No one exited except one clerk.

  “This doesn’t look so good,” Sam said.

  “Nope,” Wyatt agreed, and walked up to the Jeep to look inside. He walked around and saw a crushed bag from Mariano’s with a broken container of olives spilling out. “It doesn’t look good at all.”

  “What was that detective’s name again?” Wyatt asked, looking up. The rest of them had followed him around the Jeep. Sam’s eyes were huge.

  “Rodriguez, I think he and Mal had history,” Suzy offered. “But I also thought of one other person we could call.”

  They all looked at her expectantly.

  “She was dating a city firefighter, by the name of Rhodes.”

  “Mal’s dating someone?” Sam asked, surprised.

  Wyatt turned towards Suzy, “Do you know which station he works at? We could try him first just to see if he’s heard from her. The groceries could be a coincidence and he picked her up here. If not, we’ll put a phone call in to the detective. A current boyfriend would be more likely to know her whereabouts than an old one.”

  They all looked down at the grocery bag, crushed deli container and olives. No one really believed it to be a coincidence, but they kept quiet.

  “Bricktown, I believe,” Suzy supplied. “I think he’s the captain.”

  I pushed away from the wall, done feeling sorry for myself. I wasn’t ready to give up. I scanned the room. They had taken my jacket and my ASP baton with it. There was a crate against one wall with a broken chair next to it. I tried the legs of the chair and was able to wiggle a wrung from between the chair legs.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I had stopped periodically, as I wasn’t being quite as quiet as before, but still heard no sounds. I was hoping that wherever I was, my captors were either gone or asleep for the night.

  The window seemed like my best bet, so I tried it again, using the chair wrung to lightly tap against the dried paint. I was able to get some of it broke and edged the window open about 3 inches, when it screeched in protest. I debated how much noise
to make, but still hadn’t heard anything from the house itself.

  Hurrying back to the door, I pressed my ear to it to listen for sounds on the other side. Still nothing, so I went back to the window to try again. I put the blanket between my hands and the door to muffle whatever sounds I could. I eventually had to give it a short, sharp shove, which resulted in a squeak loud enough to wake the dead. At least it seemed that way to me. I stilled to listen for sounds. And again, there were none.

  The window, finally open enough to get through, laughed at me. Because, although I had gotten it open, the wooden slats lay trapping me inside. I moved my attention to them, selecting a wide board to start with. I placed the heel of my hand near the edge of the slat and pushed. It didn’t give at all.

  Frustrated, but not ready to give up, I pulled the crate over to give me some leverage. I stepped up on the crate and put my foot on the wooden board between me and my freedom. Even gripping the window frame I didn’t have enough leverage to move it.

  So, I centered my weight, readied myself and gave the board a strong, firm kick. The window frame rattled a bit and the board wiggled a little. I tried it again. After three tries, the board came free on one side, but hung from the other. I scrambled over to pull it free, bringing the board inside instead of letting it drop. I didn’t want to step down on those nails.

  A nice large six-inch gap in the window gave me hope for more. Leaning forward, I got my first full glimpse outside. My heart sank when I saw that I wasn’t on the ground floor. It looked like I was on a third floor of a brick building.

  I staggered back from the window, looking around for another solution. No way could I jump from here. I looked back out, trying to determine if there was another window ledge I could use to climb down. I could only get a glimpse of one below, but I wasn’t sure if I could reach it. It didn’t look very wide.

  Meanwhile, at a fire station in Bricktown,