by Nolon King
“How much will you need?”
“Whatchya got?”
Jasper told her about the Pentz money then said he could get his hands on more cash if needed. Kim promised an army.
“I need to head back to town, make some calls,” Jasper said once the deal was made.
“Sure you don’t want a hit?” Kim said, again offering the bong.
“No, thank you.”
Then Jasper left the RV.
11:21 PM
Jasper and Jordyn drove slowly past Spider’s apartment building, no longer an active crime scene.
There were people hanging outside in the parking lot, blasting music, smoking ganja, drinking, and generally airing their return to business as usual despite what had happened last night. Wooden planks covered the front doors, probably where windows had been shot out of the complex. There was likely damage inside as well.
Jordyn stared out the window. “How can they just act like nothing happened? Someone was kidnapped. People were killed. Their friends or relatives are dead. But they’re right back out there, acting like nothing happened.”
Jasper looked at his daughter’s crestfallen face.
“Maybe shit’s been bad for so long that it’s just another night to them. Maybe this is their way of dealing with the grief, to not let it bring them down. A sort of Fuck You to their enemy.”
“How can this be anyone’s normal?”
Jasper didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made any sense.
He passed the parking lot as he drove around the neighborhood, looking to see if there were any cops.
An unmarked patrol car sat across the street from the apartment complex. Jasper didn’t go slow enough to draw attention and wasn’t even sure if there was a cop inside.
Butler P.D. was a small organization. They didn’t have an abundance of cops to work the case, let alone sit on the building to see who might return. It could be Creek County Sheriff’s Office, but Butler and Creek had an uneasy relationship. Butler cops didn’t care for their better paid and larger Creek County deputy brethren. And Creek County deputies looked down on Butler as the sort of place you went as a rookie, a half-ass cop not good enough to get into CCSO, or a fuck-up who got fired from CCSO.
While CCSO aided in operations and worked within the county, Butler P.D. was determined to solve their own damned cases, especially ones this big. So, the car sitting on the apartments was likely one of only a few officers working tonight.
A distraction would definitely pull them away from the apartments. Jasper called Kim and asked if she could do the honors.
“How big you want it?” she asked.
“Not so big that Creek County sends all their deputies, but big enough to get the cops off Spider’s place.”
“One massive distraction coming up.” Kim laughed before hanging up.
Jasper hoped she wasn’t too high for his request.
He drove out of the neighborhood, just long enough to wait for a call on the Butler police radio — a suspected burglary in progress on the other side of town. A few minutes later, he drove past where the unmarked car had been.
It was gone.
Jasper headed to Spider’s place. He took the rear entrance to the parking lot and avoided the rowdy crowds milling out front.
The hallways were filled with the sounds of televisions and music, plus people talking, yelling, and fucking. Jasper and Jordyn ignored the noise as they made their way to Spider’s apartment.
The walls were perforated with bullet holes. Blood had been mostly scrubbed away, but the reek of bleach still lingered behind.
Spider’s apartment was an active crime scene, and the only place with police tape on the door.
Jasper pulled out his knife. He sliced through the yellow tape, picked the lock, then opened the door.
The place was a disaster. Shelves toppled, bullet holes pocking the walls, couch cushions ripped apart, stuffing littering the floor. Blood soaked the carpet just past the threshold. The cleaning crew for the crime scene had yet to arrive.
Jordyn closed her eyes and winced. “They shot Tyrell here.”
Jasper saw a flash of memory, Tyrell attempting to push the men in black out. He hadn’t wanted to fire his weapon. But they had no such worries.
He went down before he could get off a shot.
Kim screamed, reached for her gun.
A man blasted a hole in the couch next to her with a shotgun.
She froze, terrified.
The men stormed into the computer room, grabbed Spider by the back of her head, and confirmed their target.
In Spider’s bedroom, Jordyn found a small glass unicorn on the dresser. She picked it up and examined it.
Jasper stood beside her, looking at the delicate item. Given to Spider as a gift on her seventh birthday from her mother who’d told her that nothing was impossible if you really believed.
Jordyn echoed what Spider’s mom had said, then followed with, “And this is what believing gets you.”
“You get a bead on her?” Jasper asked.
Jordyn closed her eyes as she focused. “She’s in a room. A man is with her, watching her.”
“Where is it?”
Jordyn concentrated harder. Jasper saw a flash of the man’s face, but it wasn’t solid. More of an idea of a face, nothing Jasper could draw for a sketch or use for any legitimate search.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not yet. But this is the strongest thing in her room. I think we should take it. Hopefully something will come to me.”
“Okay.” Jasper slipped the unicorn into his jacket pocket.
He was about to search the computer room when he heard somebody moving behind him.
“Hands where I can see ’em,” barked a man from behind him.
Jasper raised his hands and slowly turned to find a gun in his face, a uniformed Butler officer — short and stocky, dark-haired, with tattoos running up his forearms and a nasty expression.
“W-what are you doing in here?” The officer’s eyes were all over the place. He was scared, and a frightened cop with a drawn gun was a dangerous thing indeed.
“Felicia is my niece,” Jasper lied. “I’m looking for her.”
“Get against the wall, hands on your head, fingers laced together.”
Shit!
Jasper weighed his options. He could make a move, but the nervous cop would have an itchy trigger finger. He’d probably get shot if he tried anything.
Jordyn was still in the bedroom. Jasper hoped she managed to hide and wouldn’t come out and get blasted by Officer Skittish.
“Can we just—”
“Hands on your fucking head!” the cop bellowed, his gun in Jasper’s face.
A little closer and maybe he could disarm the guy.
Jasper slowly turned to the wall, raising his hands and braiding fingers behind his head as the officer had ordered.
The cop called it in, letting dispatch know he had a black male suspect in custody.
Backups would be there soon.
The first cuff violently kissed Jasper’s wrist. His heart raced, his mind screamed, Do something. Do something now!
The window to act was closing. In seconds, his right arm would be brought down then both hands would be cuffed. He’d be shoved into the back of a squad car. Processed fifteen or twenty minutes after that, with his photograph and fingerprints run through the database.
Jasper’s life and anonymity would be finished forever.
The world would know Jasper Parish was still alive. The law would start looking at him for deaths and unexplained disappearances. He’d rot in prison while awaiting the chair.
What’ll happen to Jordyn?
Everything Jasper had worked so hard for would be erased if he didn’t act.
His heart felt like it was going to explode.
The cop brought down Jasper’s cuffed arm.
Now! Do it!
Jasper went to make his move.
The cop shoved h
im forward into the wall and drew his weapon. “Down on the fucking ground!”
Fuck!
Jasper began to lower himself.
A woman said, “Put the motherfucking gun down or you’re dead, bitch.”
Jasper turned to see a young black woman aiming a .45 at the cop. She wore a hoodie and a skull mask pulled up over her mouth.
The cop was shaking and terrified, probably about to try and talk his way out of it.
But the moment he opened his mouth, she shut it by pressing the barrel of her gun to his temple. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
He dropped his gun.
“On the ground,” she said.
Jasper stood and grabbed the keys to his cuffs. He unlocked himself, then restrained the officer before grabbing his gun and radio.
“Let’s go,” his savior said.
Jasper didn’t need to be told twice.
Chapter 13 - Mallory Black
Mal woke up at four in the afternoon still hurting from her face meeting with a tree.
She’d had a nightmare but thankfully couldn’t remember it. She was pissed at herself for using again, and decided she needed another NA meeting tonight.
After popping three ibuprofen pills into her mouth, she chased them with the last gulp of ice water left in her flask.
Mal went to the bathroom then into the kitchen area of her room. She looked in her hotel fridge for anything that might be worth heating up but only had a carton of week-old Chinese food, a freezer-burned pint of peanut butter chocolate ice cream, and a bottle of vodka.
The microwave clock showed it was dinnertime. If she ordered from the hotel’s restaurant, it would probably take forever. If she wanted food, she’d have to go out, or at least down to the bar of the restaurant and order there.
She did not feel like getting dressed or leaving her room.
But Mal was starving and would eventually have to get dressed for her NA meeting, anyway.
She threw on sweats and a sweatshirt, secured her hair in a ponytail, then pulled on a cap. Just before she stepped into the hall, she spotted the envelope on the floor in front of her door.
Someone had written in black marker, Det. Black.
An ominous feeling froze her heart.
Relax. It’s probably just a message left at the front desk.
She picked up the envelope then ripped it open.
Inside was a piece of printer paper with the same black lettering.
Need to talk. URGENT.
—J.
Mal grabbed her burner phone then dialed the number below the message.
“Hello?” Jasper’s voice brought her back to the last time she’d heard it.
Mexico.
He had again saved her life. And, in turn, she had left him out of the reports. If she wasn’t working, then she had zero obligation to follow up on the missing persons’ case. Or anything else she suspected him of.
The first time she’d heard his voice, it was a warning that her daughter was in danger — a warning she’d not acted on urgently enough and had lived to regret. He’d also warned her Jessi Price was in danger, right before armed men boarded the girl’s school bus and kidnapped the girl, before taking her to Mexico.
What horrible news does he have now? Did something happen to Jessi again?
She spoke hesitantly, afraid of what he might say this time. “You left a message?”
“I need your help.”
“What is it?” Mal asked.
“How close are you to Victor Forbes?”
“Why?”
Jasper explained Forbes was behind everything in Mexico and now he’d kidnapped a hacker friend of his, a young woman. Forbes, and BlackBriar he thought, were cleaning house and had already killed several people, including Cadillac.
“I need to know where I might find him,” Jasper said.
“Well, last time we spoke, I ended up kidnapped, too. I’m thinking he’s not exactly going to trust me. Why not go to the FBI?”
“He said he’d kill her. Besides, I don’t trust law enforcement when it comes to Victor Forbes. He’s probably got so many politicians on his list, they’d kill Spider regardless. Any chance you can trace a number for me? My guy’s not answering.”
“I’m on leave. I can’t just get a number traced without raising a mess of red flags.”
Jasper sighed. “They’re going to kill her. I need some way to find her.”
“Let me see what I can do. I’ll call you back, soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” Jasper said.
“Yeah.”
Her gut was on fire as she hung up the phone, torn between an inexplicable anger at Jasper and a need to help him. She thought of Victor Forbes, the way he’d grinned when she’d asked about Cadillac and his role in the Jessi Price kidnapping. Smiled and lied. Already plotting her abduction and sale to Dodd.
Fuck Forbes and fuck BlackBriar.
Mal couldn’t call him, so she’d do the next best thing.
She grabbed her regular phone then pulled up her contact info for Tim Brentwood, the narcotics officer in Jacksonville with whom she’d had a little thing. He’d tried reaching out to her a few times since Mexico, but she’d blown him off every time. Mal loathed the thought of requesting a favor from someone she’d ghosted, but if she was going to eat shit pie, then she might as well grab a fork.
Tim picked up on the first ring. She could hear sports in the background. He probably just got off work and was watching TV. “Hey, stranger. How’s it going?”
Mal could work him but didn’t think she needed to. Tim was a good guy and would probably help her. “Can I come by?”
“Now?”
“Uh-huh. I need a favor. And … well, it’s kinda big.”
His voice went from flirtatious to concerned. He was smart enough not to inquire over the phone. “Sure.”
“Can you text me your address?”
“Yeah, see you soon.”
Mal was in Tim’s Jacksonville apartment, sitting on his couch and nursing a bottle of Bud. He was right beside her, and he’d muted the football game, which was more than most of the guys she’d had flings with would have done.
She briefly updated him on Mexico. Mal hated telling stories about herself that engendered pity. She never wanted anyone feeling anything remotely close to sorry for her. But in this instance, it would likely help her request.
It’s not manipulation if it’s for a good reason.
“Damn.” Tim wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
She flinched.
He noticed and withdrew his hand.
“Sorry, I’ve been skittish ever since.”
“No, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do? You mentioned a favor?”
“You know Victor Forbes?”
“Yeah, BlackBriar. Why?” His brow furrowed.
“He’s in this shit.”
“What?”
“I went to him asking about one of the men who took Jessi Price. He lied right to my face then orchestrated my kidnapping.”
“Victor Forbes is involved? No way.” Tim shook his head. “He trains half our people. I’ve hung out with him, gone to games, and—” He paused, probably realizing how he must sound to Mal, defending the guy. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded. “And there’s more.”
Mal told him about the flash drive, about Spider’s abduction. About people being murdered. About Cadillac and his family being killed and part of a cover-up. She finished telling him all the shit Jasper had told her then added, “He’ll get gun-shy and move the girl if I call him. I need to know where he is, but I’m off-duty and can’t get a trace without raising—”
“So you want me to get a location? Without a warrant?”
“You know anyone who can help you … on the down-low?”
“Fuck,” he sighed. “I dunno.”
“You dunno if you can, or you dunno if you will?”
Tim stared at her, his handsome face troubled. She fe
lt bad bringing this to his doorstep, asking for a favor that could get him fired. Or worse.
Mal could feel him wanting to say yes, but Tim was obviously worried about his job. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. And, in the moment, that meant manipulating him.
She shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll find another way. Maybe I’ll just call him.”
His jaw tightened. “No. That’s a horrible idea.”
“Well, I need to do something. He’s going to delete the whole list, and a bunch of people are going to get away with some seriously heinous shit. They’re probably going to kill a teenage girl.”
She was laying it on thick, but Mal meant every word.
He nodded. “I might know someone who can help.”
And this is the moment he drops his principles to help. Damn it, I’m a piece of shit.
“Thank you so much.” She gave him a hug.
“You’re welcome, Mal.”
Such a piece of shit.
She gave him the numbers.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” she said, wanting to stay but knowing he’d want to fuck if she did. “But I can’t stay. I’ve got a meeting I need to—”
“A meeting? At this hour?”
“NA.”
“Ah, okay.” No interrogation or pity party. Tim understood.
He asked her if she had a CloakPigeon account so he could reach her on encrypted channels.
Then she left, feeling awful for getting him to go outside the law like he probably was.
Mal desperately wanted to use. But instead, she drove to the NA meeting, hoping for strength.
At the very least, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone.
Chapter 14 - Mallory Black
This time, Mal wasn’t late.
She sat in the church classroom waiting for the NA meeting to start, wondering if Maggie would be there. Some people went once a week. Others, especially new people and those who had relapsed, attended more often.
Mal checked her messages while she waited, hoping to have something from Tim. Nothing yet.
