by Mia Luxe
Walrus taps his fingers against the table, looking at me with narrowed eyes.
“This isn’t just revenge, Connor.”
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head, the tips of his mustache bouncing. “He could have put a hit on you. You know what this is about.”
Walrus looks left and right. No one is near.
I stare him right in his eyes. He looks back, unflinching.
“Explain yourself.”
“I’d been trying to get the Maturi’s behind bars for a decade, so I looked the other way when that 15 million went missing. Hell, I even covered for you when the inquests started. There’s only one person who could have taken that money. You.”
My knuckles turn white as I clench the table.
“I don’t have a cent of that money.”
Walrus chuckles without mirth.
“Ark private investigating have top notch forensic accountants. Joe Maturi would have put them on your finances. If you don’t have that money, they’ll know you didn’t spend it. Which means Joe is going to think you still have it.”
“I don’t.”
“Then you don’t have a bargaining tool. He’ll think you have it hidden somewhere, and he’ll kill any of us for it. 15 million is enough for him to start a new life. It’s enough for him to risk everything.”
I growl.
“Then he’ll die trying to get it.”
I flip the next page of the dossier.
“You’ll see there’s info on his associates, schedule, hell, even his itemized purchases from the canteen.”
“Thank you Walrus.”
He lets out a low, weary sigh, looking every year of his age.
“It’s both of our skins on the line. If he’s coming for you, he might come for me.”
He pauses for a second, then downs the last of his coffee.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, Connor, I’m going to go home and sit on my porch with a shotgun on my lap. If you need me for something else, you’ve got my number.”
I pour over the details, trying to understand Joe Maturi. Trying to form an accurate picture of him in my mind.
Walrus is about to stand when my phone rings.
The name on my call display is Willow.
Willow.
Her phone’s tapped.
She’s only safe if no one knows my feelings for her.
Icy
Willow - Thursday, November 13th
The pregnancy test in the bathroom garbage looks at me accusingly as the phone rings for Connor.
Pick up, pick up!
The wind howls and beats against my building, strong enough that it might all come crashing down.
My heart clutches in my chest, butterflies in my stomach. It took all my courage to press the call button.
“Hello,” he says, his voice cold and disinterested.
Last time you saw him you called him a monster. He’ll warm up. He has to!
“Connor. It’s me, Willow. Can we talk?”
“I’m busy. Why are you calling me? We’re done. Over.”
His icy tone causes wet tears to form in my eyes.
Stay strong.
“I need to see you, I’ve got something to tell you. In person.”
“No. I don’t want to hear from you again. Don’t bother showing up to my class. You’ll get a pass.”
His words hit me like a slap. Anger, I expected. Disappointment, I was prepared for.
I wasn’t expecting contempt.
I’ve never felt so alone in my life.
“Connor, you don’t understand. I’m -”
“I don’t need this stress. Are you going to be grown and be discrete about what we did, or act like a little child and go crying to the dean? Huh? Tell me right fucking now if I need to worry about my job.”
He never swears. Jesus, he must hate me. Did he ever have feelings for me? Or was it all a lie?
“No. You don’t have to worry. Fuck you Connor, fuck you.”
I hang up, and tears stream down my face. I slide under the blankets, pushing my face into my pillow until it’s soaked through. I reach for tissues but the box is empty.
With all my strength, I pull myself up to my feet and walk to the bathroom, grabbing a huge handful of toilet paper and blowing my nose loudly.
The pregnancy test looks up at me from the garbage.
I pick it up, holding it in front of me and staring at the little plus sign that changed my life in a heartbeat.
I can do this without Connor. I can. I just need to believe it.
I walk to my little dorm window, looking out at the student housing. Rain pounds against the window and thunder rolls, my heart pounding with the frenetic energy. A few students are smoking by the administrative office, huddled against the cold and rain. Three girls wobble on high heels as they rush into a cab, probably off to a night of drinking and dancing at a club.
I hold the pregnancy test up, looking at it contrasted with the carefree girls who disappear into the cab. Tears come to my eyes again, but I fight them back.
Just a few weeks ago we had very similar lives, you three and me.
A bright flash makes my heart clench and I drop the pregnancy test.
Was that lightning?
A car turns its lights on in the parking lot and backs out.
In the gleaming light I see it’s a black Mercedes.
Did someone in that Mercedes just take a picture of me?
The luxury car doesn’t look like something a student would drive, not even the rich foreign exchange students. They prefer flashy new cars. The car is so familiar, like trying to remember the name of an actor on the tip of your tongue, but the memory keeps flitting away.
Wait, wait, I know what I remember it from! That’s the same Mercedes I see around Connor’s neighborhood. What’s it doing at dorms?
No, you’re being paranoid. It can’t be the same one, can it?
In the dark of night with the Mercedes’ windows tinted, I can barely make out a shadowy silhouette in the driver’s seat before it pulls away.
Is someone following me?
The tears dry in my eyes. Cold fear replaces the sorrow I was wallowing in. My mouth is dry and I wet my lips, possibilities racing through my mind.
I close my blinds, pick up the test and throw it into the bathroom garbage again. I know I’m alone in dorms but I get the sense of eyes watching me.
What do I do?
I can’t call Connor. I have to do deal with this on my own.
Campus security! I’ll tell them there’s a suspicious black Mercedes and ask if it is registered to a student. It could still just be a coincidence. I’m not some damsel in distress. I don’t need to be saved.
I open my laptop, Google the university security line, and call.
“Campus security, Jason.”
“Hey Jason, I’m a student living in dorms and I’ve noticed a black Mercedes that’s been hanging out in the parking lot recently. The windows are pretty tinted, but there’s someone in it who just sits in the parking lot, waits a couple hours watching people, and then drives away. I think he took a picture of me.”
There’s a pause.
“Watching people? And what do you mean, a picture?”
“Yeah, well, I thought maybe it could be a student’s car, or a parent, but no one ever comes out. And just now I was standing at my window and there was a bright flash, like paparazzi taking a photo.”
“Do you have a license plate?”
I rack my brain, but I stupidly didn’t check the plate.
“No, I couldn’t see it.”
“We really need a license plate to be able to do much except keep an eye out. Approximate year of the car?”
I think hard.
“It doesn’t look new. 80s or 90s? And it’s got a really deep tint in the windows.”
“Could I get your full name and student number?”
I list my name and number.
“Thank you, Willow.
I’ll put out a BOLO - a Be On the Look Out, for a dark tinted, black Mercedes, older model. It’s possible they took a picture of you. But it’s also possible it was lightning. This storm is one of the worst I’ve seen in years.”
“Thanks, Jason.”
“If you’re ever feeling nervous walking around dorms or from class to class, call us. We’ve got a safe ride system in place.”
“I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Anything else you need?”
“That’s all,” I say, hanging up and sliding my phone into my pocket.
There. You did something about it, and you didn’t need to rely on Connor.
I curl back in bed and try to sleep. Every time the wind blows it makes me jump to my feet and peer through the blinds, looking for the black Mercedes.
It’s past two when my exhaustion starts to overcome me, and I start to let myself drift into darkness…
Clink!
I start, sitting up in bed.
Did I hear something? What time is it?
I check my phone. The bright white light casts away some of the darkness of the room. 4:30AM.
Clink!
That sound, again. What is it?
My mind feels slow and sluggish when all the events of last night crash down on me. My heart pounds.
Clink!
I look to my window, and stand up. It must be the sound of someone throwing rocks at my window.
Connor?
I peer out into the student parking lot and see an older man, maybe past 60 with a huge mustache. When he sees me at the window he puts a finger to his lips for silence, and holds up a white paper sign. It’s soggy from the pouring rain, and I squint to read the words.
Room Bugged.
Come Down NO PHONE
Bugged? What the hell? Who is this guy?
What do I do?
He’s just standing there, huddling against the rain. He opens the door to the car next to him. I can’t tell the brand, but it’s a modest silver sedan.
Not the black Mercedes.
Is this a trick?
He puts the sign in the car, and pulls his jacket tighter around himself.
He’s one old man, in the cold, waiting for me.
I look down at my phone like it’s a snake, and toss it on my bed.
My phone is bugged? What does this mean?
I pull a hoodie and sweatpants over my tiny pyjama clothes and open my door slowly, peering out into the dark hallway.
Nothing moves.
Every shadow looks suspicious. I draw on Connor’s self-defence lesson, ready to leap away from any groping hands that might shoot out from the darkness.
I leave my room and creep down the stairs. I don’t want to wake anyone up.
Or let anyone hear that I’m coming.
I pass through the common room to the main doors, peering out at the man by his car just ten feet away. His mustache is majestic even when wet, dominating his face. His eyes meet mine and gives me a tight smile.
I motion for him to come closer but I don’t open the locked door.
He obliges, walking right up to the door.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
I speak in a low, hushed voice that’s as loud as I will risk in my quiet dorms.
He motions to his ear, signifying that he can’t hear me over the driving rain. He reaches down in his pocket and my adrenaline surges. I dash to the side, with the sickening feeling that he’s going to pull a gun when instead he grabs a phone from his side. He places it slowly on the ground in front of the door, then backs away to the car.
I open the door just wide enough to grab the wet phone and pull it in, the door closing and locking automatically on its own. The phone is an old flip model.
It buzzes.
“Hello?”
“Willow. It’s me, Connor.”
A gush of relief floods through me, though nothing makes sense. His voice isn’t cold. But it isn’t quite normal either.
It’s strained.
“Connor, what the fuck is going on?”
“You’re being followed. Or at least, you were.”
“The black Mercedes,” I say.
“I didn’t know it was a black Mercedes. If that’s the car, it’s part of Ark private investigation. Joe Maturi hired them to investigate me. He’s got them surveilling you.”
The phone shakes in my hand.
“From prison? How? Connor, I don’t understand, I’m scared.”
“Joe Maturi might make parole. Willow, your phone was bugged. That’s why I had to be such an ass last night when you called me. If Joe Maturi realized how much I cared for you -”
He stops for a moment. The last time we saw each other I called him a monster and left him in Portland, alone.
“I -”
I have to tell him I’m pregnant.
“Wait, Willow. I need to tell you more. That man outside your dorm rooms is Walter, or Walrus. He was my commanding officer. He’s going to drive you to your parents’ house. He’ll keep you safe.”
“No way. I just chewed my dad out on Skype last week and we haven’t talked since.”
The second the words leave my mouth I know how silly they sound.
Connor’s life is in danger and I’m talking a fight with my father?
“This isn’t up for discussion. You can’t be near me. If you’re close, I’ll be too focused on keeping you safe to protect myself. For me to have the best chance to kill Joe Maturi before he gets to me, I need to know you’re safe.”
Kill Joe Maturi.
I pull my hood up around my head.
“You’re not a murderer, Connor.”
“I’m whatever I have to be to keep us safe.”
His voice is ice.
“Walrus will check your room for bugs. If we’re right, then they listened to that call last night and won’t be after you anymore. They’ll think I don’t care about you. They’ll come for me, and only me.”
I’m breathing too fast and I slow it down.
Connor, I’m pregnant. I’m carrying your child.
A shudder runs through me.
I can’t tell him. If I do, it will distract him. He could get killed.
I have to go to my parents’ house and wait this out. I’ll feel so helpless, so useless. But if it keeps Connor safe…
“Connor, you need to call the cops. You need to tell them what Joe Maturi is planning.”
“No. I’m taking care of this myself. Walrus will watch over you. Willow - I have to go.”
“Connor, wait -”
He hangs up, leaving me holding the phone.
Walrus stands in front of the door, and I open it for him.
He holds out a weathered hand and looks me straight in the eye as I shake it weakly.
“Walter. But call me Walrus. Pleased to meet you.”
“Willow,” I say faintly, knowing he already knows my name.
“Take me to your room.”
He’s carrying a black device in his left hand. I bring him up to my room, and he puts his finger up to his lips for silence. We enter, and he walks around my tiny dorm room with his black device that looks like a TV remote. When he’s satisfied, he slides the device in his pocket and picks my phone up off my bed. He looks at it intently, holding it up, then opens the back where the battery is.
“Aha,” he says out loud, making me jump. The sudden noise in the silence shocks me.
“What is it?”
“Look.” He motions for me to look, and I move closer. I look at it, but don’t notice anything for a few seconds.
“My sim card! It’s… longer than it should be?”
“Yeah,” says Walrus, nodding. His whiskers move up and down with his head.
“I’ve used these before. Duplicate sim. Good news is, no bugs in your room, so we can talk.”
“And the bad news?”
“This is a duplicate sim. Someone got into your room without you noticing, copied your sim card info, a
nd replaced it with the duplicate. Every call you made, every text you sent, hell, even your location, it’s all been hacked.”
A chill runs through me.
Someone was in my room while I slept.
“Take a breath. It’s sickening knowing someone was in your room, but this works for us. They bugged your phone, Willow. That means they heard your conversation with Connor last night. They won’t be after you.”
My room no longer feels safe. Every shadow is menacing.
“Wait – I called security. I reported the black Mercedes in the dorm parking lot. I told them I’d see it around too much, that it was acting suspiciously.”
Walrus frowns. “You didn’t mention Connor? Or Joe Maturi?”
I shake my head. Walrus considers for a minute.
“Alright. If you didn’t mention them, you should be safe. It’s perfectly reasonable for you to call in a suspicious vehicle. We can use this to our advantage. Now, if the black Mercedes starts tailing Connor, we’ll know they fell for it.”
My thoughts are jumbled. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours that I can barely think.
“What do you mean? How will we know they fell for it?”
Walrus gives me a tight smile.
“You suspected a black Mercedes was following you and called campus security. It’s a safe bet you would tell Connor about it, if you were still involved with him. So if they use the same car to keep tabs on Connor it means one thing. They believe you two aren’t together anymore.”
I blink, feeling silly that I didn’t figure it out on my own.
“Alright. I get it. So, if the black Mercedes starts tailing Connor, does that mean I won’t have to go to my parents’ house? I’ll be safe?”
He frowns. “No, you have to go. Connor works alone. Always has. I don’t have a family to take care of, never married, never had kids. I’ll be looking after you. Truth be told, I’m happy to skip town for a spell. Joe Maturi coming out of prison…”
He shudders. There’s a sickening fear in his eyes, and I’m less reassured that he’s watching over me. He regains his composure, swallowing hard.
“I don’t have anything packed.”
“Well, get packing. It’s just a weekend, so pack light. What are you telling your parents?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t know. Let me think.” I lick my lips, trying to come up with a good excuse.
