Mismatched
Agency Files Book 2
Chautona Havig
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Copyright 2013 Chautona Havig
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Chautona Havig lives in an oxymoron, escapes into imaginary worlds that look startlingly similar to ours and writes the stories that emerge. An irrepressible optimist, Chautona sees everything through a kaleidoscope of It’s a Wonderful Life sprinkled with fairy tales. Find her on the web and say howdy—if you can remember how to spell her name.
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All Scripture references are from the NASB. NASB passages are taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE (registered), Copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation
Fiction / Christian / Romantic Suspense
~For Natalie~
For Natalie, who nagged and nagged and nagged until I gave in and finished writing the story! Your faith inspires me. Your love of your children “spurs me on to love and good deeds,” and your commitment to your vows teaches me every day just how blessed I am to know you.
Table of Contents
Mismatched
~For Natalie~
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Don’t miss out on the third book in The Agency Files: Effective Immediately
Chautona Havig’s Books
Chapter One
The sleazy bar oozed with the slime of a biker haven. Ernie pulled into his usual parking spot and jerked on the emergency brake before turning off the engine. Loud music blared in the cool Colorado air as a group of men exited the building. He watched them, but none stumbled. Good.
Inside, he accepted his usual glass of Coke from the end of the bar and wove his way through the customers and regulars to the paneled hallway plastered with posters of women wearing too little to leave anything to the imagination and advertisements for beer. He found the last door on the left closed and locked. A keypad accepted his access code. The light turned green. All was well.
Once inside, he closed it again, turning the deadbolt even before he turned on the lights. A glance around him assured Ernie that nothing was amiss. Things remained a bit skittish after the mess with Leo.
Unlike the rest of the bar, this room boasted clean and modern décor. Sleek stainless office furniture butted against beige walls. His chair was a masterpiece of ergonomics and luxury. Contemporary lighting kept the room bright and a splash of artwork on one wall added visual interest. The laptop—the one that never left the building—sat on the desk, ready for him to login.
His cellphone buzzed and a glance at the screen flashed one name. JENk. He ignored it. There was no news yet. As he typed in his sixteen-character password, Ernie muttered, “I swear they want information before it happens now. The world isn’t going to hell in a hand basket; it’s flying there at the speed of light.”
Reports cascaded onto the screen at the touch of his mouse. Emails flooded his inbox, most going into the junk folder that he still had to comb for coded messages. Google popped up with his browser, taunting him with the temptation to “feel lucky.” His fingers skimmed the keys and hit enter.
The entries popped up as he typed and the final tally for the day was 139,431. Ernie scratched out the previous day’s number and wrote this below it, replacing the sticky note on the edge of the monitor. “Up sixty-three. Maybe today.”
A single knock preceded the sound of keys in the lock. His boss stepped into the room. “You’re in early. Got anything?”
“Just got here. Looks like an increase on Leos though. Maybe we’ll find something.”
“Del talked with his mother.”
Ernie nodded. Though it didn’t surprise him, it did bother him that some chick had to die because her son ran his mouth. “I’ll see what I can find out.” He hesitated before asking the obvious question. “Del sticking around to see if Leo shows up for a funeral?”
“That’s the idea.” Jenk left the room with a silent order hanging in the air. Get me the reports and see if any of the new Google hits pan out.
According to the previous night’s sales report, “beer” was up by twelve percent and for no apparent reason. He punched a number on his phone and waited for a reply. “Hey, Roman, you need to boost production by fifteen percent.” Without a word, he disconnected and went back to his lists, highlighting the places that Jenk needed to read.
Three printed emails went on top of the pile. Twenty-two minutes later, he had the extra entries finished and Google closed. Another bust. Jenk wouldn’t like that. He pulled out his phone, hit the button for JENk and sent a text message. “No news.”
Papers in hand, he strolled down to the boss’s office and knocked. “Got the reports.”
Jenk called him in and held out his hand for them. Unlike Ernie’s office, the room was more like a man cave, complete with state of the art HDTV and leather seating. Again, however, it looked out of place in the shabby building. “What do we have… an increase in beer. Good. Did you call Roman?”
“Told him to have fifteen percent more next week.”
“That’ll give us samples—good thinking. I’ve got a new kid. Thinks kind of like Leo did. Speaking of Leo…”
“Bust. Nothing there. One email is from the informant at the courthouse—the one from [email protected].”
“TTYL?”
“Text-speak for talk to you later. It’s a dummy account, of course.”
“What’s it say… hmm. Good. Follow up on these. See if there’s any reason to visit any of them.”
“Will do.” Ernie pocketed the list of towns across the country where Leo might be, certain that it was a waste of time.
“Got anything else for me?”
�
�That’s all.”
Jenk passed back the stack of papers and nodded his dismissal. “Shred ‘em then.”
An hour later, another message from JENk arrived—a one-letter text. K.
Chapter Two
The office held a trace of nostalgia for her, but Allison refused to allow her thoughts to linger in the past. She and Adric had made the right decision—even if it meant that she, at thirty, still had no hint of a real relationship in sight. He was happy, and that made her happy for him.
Pushing the sight of stacked invoices, part boxes, and the familiar scent of grease and solvent from her mind, she punched the doorbell that would call her friend into his office. Her car needed attention, and now she only trusted it to Adric or his two— The door opened mid-thought. A man stepped through, wiping his hands on a shop rag and smiling. “Can I help you?”
Make that three, employees. Unnerved by the huge snake tattooed down the man’s left arm, the spider web crawling up one side of his neck, and the odd-looking Chinese characters down the other arm, Allison forced her eyes upward to his face. Spiked black hair set off expressive blue eyes, but the evidence of previous piercings and spikes in the man’s features shocked her in spite of herself. His earlobes had holes the size of quarters where gauges once rested.
She swallowed hard, willing herself not to react. If Adric trusted the man enough to hire him, that’s all she needed. “I stopped by to see if Adric or one of the guys could look at my car. I smell something, and it has what Adric called a ‘knock.’ Whatever that means.”
“You think he’d call it a knock or you do?” Even as he spoke, the man grabbed a tool she couldn’t identify and strolled to the door, opening it for her.
“He would. I learned all about knocks, pings, dings, and whines last year.”
Understanding dawned. “What month were you?”
“April.”
Nodding, the man followed her to the car, reached in, popped the hood, and propped it before he glanced at her. “I know it’s none of my business, but do you ever regret saying no?”
“I didn’t say no; he chose Jael.”
A look crossed his face—one of disbelief. “Can you start the engine?”
She climbed behind the wheel of her Toyota Camry and revved when he indicated, shifted gears upon demand, and waited. She didn’t hear the sound. Leaning out the window, she called, “Maybe if we drove around the block? I’d just let it go, but I thought Adric said knocks—”
“I’ll lock the door and be right there.”
Allison climbed into the passenger’s side as he returned. He slid behind the seat and stared at her. “Is there a reason you’re allowing a perfect stranger to drive you anywhere?”
“Since you work for Adric. If he trusts you, so do I.”
“How do you know I work for him? You don’t even know my name.”
“Well,” she suggested, “you could remedy that. I’m Allison Wahl.”
The man smiled, “Leo Hasaert. Let’s see what has your car’s heart knocking.”
“Perhaps that is the problem,” Allison laughed. “She noticed a hunky pick-up the other day—hasn’t been the same since.”
Leo glanced her way and frowned. “So much for introducing it to my old beater. She’s been spoiled by the elite, eh?”
Before Allison could respond, the car knocked, and seconds later, the very faint scent of burning rubber drifted in through the air vents. He turned back toward town and frowned. “This isn’t good news. Not sure how I didn’t hear it before, but yeah, that’s bad.”
“How bad is bad?”
“If I’m right, you need a new engine or a rebuild. Probably throwing a rod.”
“Ouch.”
He glanced at her. “On the brighter side, I think your rubber smell is just a belt or a hose or something. It’s not related, and in comparison, it will be cheaper to fix.”
“Should I fix it, or just buy a new car?”
He ran his hands over the steering wheel as he parked the sedan in front of the shop. Allison had kept her Camry in pristine condition. Her upholstery still looked new, the dashboard unmarred by the sun. Everything about it showed the excellent care she took of it.
Leo glanced at her. “Has it ever been in an accident?”
“Nope.”
Climbing from the driver’s seat, he lowered himself to his hands and knees and peered under the car. “No rust issues—”
“My father is good about maintenance.”
“Have you been wanting a new car?” She saw it in his eyes. Leo hoped she’d say no.
“Not particularly. I’ve had her since I graduated high school.”
“Graduation gift?”
Allison nodded.
“Then, I’ll run a computer diagnostic to see if I’m right, but I’d recommend a replace or rebuild.”
Just as he went to unlock the door, Adric opened the bay. “What are you—Allison!”
“How are you?” She hugged him quickly and pointed to her car. “It is fading fast, but Leo says he can arrange for a resurrection.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“It has a knock.” Allison almost winked at Leo before she caught herself, and then blushed as she realized that he knew it.
“A knock? Are you sure it’s a knock, or is it maybe a ping?”
“It’s a knock, Adric. Rod isn’t thrown, but it’s going.” A strange mixture of excitement and frustration filled Leo’s voice.
At Allison’s quirked eyebrow, Adric laughed. “There’s nothing that Leo loves more than rebuilding or replacing an engine and saving another car from salvage. Come on in and we’ll start paperwork. Leo can do his thing.”
“I’ve got to call Mom, and I’ll need a ride home. I don’t suppose it’ll be done quickly…”
Laughing, Adric opened the door to his office and led Allison inside. Once the door shut behind them, he gestured for her to find a seat and get comfortable. “Well, we have to wait for the diagnostic, but if Leo says engine, I’ll trust it. If that’s it, do you want it replaced?”
She nodded. “How long—”
“Too many factors. I just don’t know. Usually within a couple of weeks, but right now with our load…” He shrugged.
“What is it going to cost me? I need to figure out what a car rental—”
“I’ve got a Focus out there that I took in trade for some work and fixed up. It’s not as nice as your Camry, but you can use it while we’re working. No charge.”
“That’d be nice but—”
“No buts, Allison. If I don’t charge the average customer, I certainly don’t charge friends.”
Leo popped in the door shaking his head and jerked his thumb toward the bay. “Yep, that engine is shot.” To Allison he added, “I’m really sorry.” Without another word, he let the door slam behind him again.
“Who is he, Adric? I didn’t know you hired anyone else.” At the knowing look in Adric’s eyes, she added, “Yes, I am curious. I can’t imagine you hiring someone who looks like he belongs to the gang dudes in Rockland.”
“He used to be a biker. Kasimir.” Adric waited for her response.
“I take it that means dangerous?”
“Yeah. His chapter was involved in a lot of criminal activity.”
Swallowing hard, Allison asked the obvious questions. “How did he get out? Do they just let you leave?”
“He’ll have to tell you about it, but let’s just say I’ve seen the scars left on both his soul and body.”
As if compelled, she asked one more. “Why would he risk it?”
“He met Jesus.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, wow. I—wow.”
“You need to ask him about it sometime. It’s an amazing story. I’ve never seen such a tough guy just—” He shook his head. “No, I can’t describe it. You’ve got to see it yourself.”
“See it for myself or hear it?” His words made no sense.
“When it comes to Leo, one is the same
as the other.”
Ambiguity rose to new heights.
Exhausted, Leo climbed the steps to his apartment. And as he often did, he debated the wisdom of living over the flower shop. Cheap rent and proximity to work had their benefits, but the stairs after a long day—not so much. Still, what else could he afford in a town like Fairbury? Not much, and any savings he managed by moving to Ferndale or Brant’s Corners would burn up in his gas tank. Fairbury had the advantage of rarely needing to drive the beat up old gas-guzzler.
Leo stepped into the apartment and the stuffiness hit him. He flung open windows before tossing his keys and mail onto the counter. Routines made the monotony automatic. His leather jacket hung on a hook by the door—one of the last remnants of his former life and one he hadn’t been willing to remove. The piercings he couldn’t erase and the tattoos taunted him with memories of easier times, but the jacket could go. He just wouldn’t let it.
Tearing his eyes and mind away from thoughts that usually dragged him into a pit of uncertainty, Leo ran through his day, examining every part of it as if it was a play in a football game or an Olympian’s practice for gold. What had gone well? What could he have done better? Did he rely on self or on the Lord? Where could he surrender more?
Years of self-reliance and cult-like adherence to the Kasimirs’ authority had been hard to overcome. Tom Allen had suggested his daily ritual of self-examination, prayerful repentance, and then release. The one thing that kept Leo from slipping into despair in those first months after his conversion, was Tom’s assurance that the Lord’s mercies were “new every morning” and that “nothing can separate him from the love of Christ.”
It had been a good day. Things that often tempted him to distraction had appeared and vanished almost before he noticed them. His mind drifted back to the woman—Allison—and his raw admiration for her. Was it wrong? He didn’t think so. What had Tom said? “Attraction isn’t the sin, Leo. Building it into a bordello of lust, however…” Bordello. Who used words like that anymore anyway?
Hunger gnawed at his belly, but Leo grabbed his already well-worn Bible and dropped to the couch, opening it to the next chapter. “Fifteen chapters. Just fifteen. Then you eat.”
Mismatched Page 1
