by G. K. Parks
The three of us went down, covered in dust and powder. The explosion itself didn’t expand beyond the room. Decker got to his knees, slamming Tim’s face into the dirt while he cuffed him. Eckhardt had been thrown from the room, but he shook himself off and helped Decker wrestle Tim into submission. By the time we were clearing the room, another tactical team was responding to the newest explosion, despite their orders to evacuate.
“On your feet,” Decker growled, passing Wilde off to the men with the DEA emblazoned vests. He gave me an uncertain look, wiping a layer of white dust off my cheek. “We’ll need decontamination and maybe hazmat.” He looked down at my leg. “And some patching up.”
“We’ll get a station set up,” Eckhardt said, radioing in the call. He nodded at Decker. “It looks like a shower for you, too.” Matt turned to another member of the team, telling them to grab a sample from the explosion site before we evacuated. We wouldn’t be able to explore the tunnels again until after they were deemed safe. “It looks like you might be ending this case on a high note.”
Decker glared. “That’s not funny.” He and I were both covered in white dust, and given the cocaine bricks that we’d found in the other rooms, we couldn’t rule out the possibility.
After a decontamination shower and an analysis of the samples collected, the powder was a mixture of dirt and dust from the tunnel, along with cocaine, methamphetamine, and various herbs. Although it was possible to become intoxicated through skin contact, the concentration had been fairly low.
I went to the hospital with Anika, and Decker stayed behind to take care of matters dealing with the raid. After having the piece of rebar removed from my leg, I made my way to Anika’s bedside. She was resting, and I took a seat beside her and started on the paperwork. A couple of hours later, she opened her eyes.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“Where am I?” She looked around.
“You’re safe, Anika.”
She practically laughed in my face. “My name isn’t Anika. It’s Natalie. Natalie DuBois.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t imagine your real name is Alex either.” She glanced at the FBI badge clipped to my belt. “You’re a federal agent?”
“Alexis Parker,” I introduced myself. “We have questions for you, Ms. DuBois. First, I’d like to ask what happened to the real Anika Thatcher?”
Natalie chuckled, sitting up and taking a sip of water. “Anika’s fine. She’s been staying at my apartment while I’ve been away.”
Apparently, Anika had been a sex worker, and after witnessing her friend Carmen be abused inside a sex club, she had shared that information with her college roommate. Natalie began investigating the management, finding a connection between one of the owners and Timothy Wilde. The name rang a bell, and she remembered Melanie Shaw mentioning the Church of Perpetual Light during their interview. At that point, Melanie had just discovered the church and hadn’t become a full-fledged member.
After more research, Natalie realized that several former working girls eventually escaped to Tim’s commune only to disappear months later. A couple turned up dead, suspected of trafficking in drugs, so Natalie decided to get an inside scoop. “It was stupid, but I couldn’t think of a better way to get the real story. So I impersonated Anika. I didn’t realize that he was drugging us. One of my contacts sent me a message, telling me that Melanie Shaw was working as a mule. I didn’t believe it, but one morning,” she cleared her throat, taking a sip of water, “I found Tim outside burning some files. One of the pages must have blown away because I found it near the fence. It was a photo of Melanie. She didn’t look so good.” She blinked, swallowing and looking away. “Something was written on the back.”
“What?” I asked.
“Send another one. This one is used up.” Natalie stared at me. “That’s what I wanted to show you, but Tim must have realized I knew something. I ended up having Dana mail it to my work address before Tim broke into my room and dragged me down those stairs.”
“We’ll need permission to go through your mail at work.”
“You can search anything you want. I want that bastard to fry.”
Promising to make that happen, I returned to HQ. Decker and I never bothered to post a photo of the woman we knew as Anika, which explained our mix-up. Luckily, the rest of the team was on the ball with their identifications. The next twelve hours involved a lot of paperwork, evidence processing, interviews, and a few thorough interrogations. Sarah and Tim kept quiet, asking for lawyers and refusing to answer any questions. The DEA called in favors with every nearby agency to help process the bust and make sure that none of Tim’s other followers were involved.
For what felt like the next several days, I ate, slept, and showered at HQ. At least the mansion they were using had ample space to accommodate all of our needs. By the fourth day, we finally broke Sarah. She confessed to her involvement, saying that she spied on the women and shared their secrets with Tim. She knew he was working for the cartel and had connections with dealers in Vegas and LA. She had a background as a chemistry teacher and had been processing the drugs and herbs, experimenting to find new mind control substances and methods of introducing the chemicals into the unsuspecting Perpetual Lighters. The drugs were meant to make Wilde’s followers feel better after their sessions, further promulgating the theory that by obeying Tim, they would reach enlightenment. For all her hard work, Tim had cut her into the business, giving her forty percent. It also appeared the two were in a relationship, and that served as additional incentive for her continued obedience and cooperation.
Another disturbing tidbit uncovered was that some of the female followers were sold to the cartel. It was no secret the types of things that the cartel would do to them. Some inevitably became drug mules; others weren’t as lucky. In exchange for leniency, Sarah provided names and dates of the transfers. With any luck, a few of the women would be recovered, but at the very least, there were a dozen cartel members to bust. It wouldn’t put an end to the problem, but it would help.
Tim refused to give up anything, but once he was informed that Sarah squealed, he had no problem turning the tables. He blamed her for masterminding all of it. He was just a figurehead. She was the brains. I’m not sure any of us actually believed it, but the scary thing was there might have been some truth to the matter.
After spending a few days recovering in the hospital, Natalie took us to her office at the paper. During her investigation, she had deduced that Wilde had friends at the various illegal skin clubs, and whenever a girl was in trouble, be it drugs, a rough pimp, john, boyfriend, or money problems, they’d make sure that the word got out about the commune. If the lady was desperate enough, she’d take a chance. After all, she was already in a bad situation and probably figured how much worse could it get. Several of those that answered the ad ended up dead within a matter of months.
“We’ll work that angle,” Decker said. “It’ll be slow going, but I think I can get Wilde to come around. As soon as he accepts that his empire crumbled, he’ll be more likely to help us take down a large chunk of the cartel too.”
“What about the two men that assaulted me?” I asked.
“That will come to light at some point. We know they’re connected. The names are in the ledger. It’ll just take a bit more time to piece it all together. We know Harbring was dealing in the wrong neighborhood, and it’s probably a safe bet that Shrieves was transporting drugs as well. We’ll start there and work through it,” Matt offered. “If we need you for something, we’ll give you a call. But since the undercover sting is over, you can go home.”
I nodded. “That’s been the goal this whole time.”
“I thought you wanted to run away from home,” Decker said. Matt quietly excused himself, giving us some privacy to say our goodbyes. “You can never make up your mind, can you?”
“That is my biggest flaw.” I sighed. “I just don’t know how to fix what’s already broken.”
Decker smiled. “You never
answered my question.” He stared at me for a long moment. “Why do you do this job? It’s making you miserable. You let it be your top priority. You let it control every aspect of your life. It doesn’t have to be that way. You walked away before. You know that there’s more out there. You don’t have to keep doing this.”
I snickered. “How the hell can you say any of that when you’re out in the cold for years at a time?”
“Because I choose to do this. I had everything and decided that I didn’t want it. I want this. But I don’t think you do. Stop being afraid to go after what you want. The only thing you can control is yourself. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.”
“We’ll see.” I extended my hand. “It’s been nice working with you, Agent Decker.”
Thirty-nine
Since returning home, Mark had been letting me crash at his place. I suspect he was afraid that I might be facing another bout of withdrawal and wanted to offer support, or he didn’t want to feel obligated to help me up six flights of stairs when I still had a hole in my leg. I’d flown back on a Thursday. So Friday I filled out all the necessary paperwork at the OIO. The office was still eerily quiet. Ever since my reinstatement, I felt like an outsider, but with Lucca gone, that feeling had increased tenfold. I’d been welcomed back by my colleagues and friends, but I couldn’t shake Decker’s parting words.
Saturday morning, I blinked awake. Mark was in the kitchen, growling about something. Rolling my eyes, I buried myself deeper under the pile of blankets. I really needed to go home. I just didn’t want to think about the last two times I’d been in my apartment.
The doorbell rang, and I put the pillow over my head while Mark went to answer it. After a few moments, I heard a muffled, “Make yourself at home. I just have to make a quick run to the office.” Assuming he was talking to me, I removed the pillow from over my face and decided to take advantage of the quiet to get some sleep.
“Alex?” Martin asked, moving into the living room.
I opened my eyes. “I must be delirious.” However, he didn’t vanish. Instead, he edged closer and took a seat at the end of the couch, unsure where I ended and the blankets began. Finally, I said, “What are you doing here?”
He jerked his thumb toward the door. “I needed a favor, and he told me to come over. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I got back Thursday. I haven’t even been home yet. Just the office and here.”
“Are you feeling better?” Martin inched closer, brushing my hair from my face. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m okay. Actually, I wasn’t sick. It was withdrawal.” I shook my head. “It changed the shape of the investigation and got me home faster. And you don’t have to worry about catching the stomach flu.”
“So you’re back for good?”
“For now.”
He searched my eyes. “What does that mean?” He looked around the room. “And why are you staying here?”
“I don’t know what it means. I don’t want to confuse things for you. You said you were seeing someone. You shouldn’t have spent the night taking care of me when you have other priorities now.”
“Alex,” he tried to interrupt, but I was on a roll.
“No, it’s okay. If she makes you happy, that’s all that matters. I just need to figure out what my life is going to be like without you in it. Maybe I’ll do more of these deep cover things. Or maybe I’ll quit my job and go back to the P.I. thing. I’m not sure, but I can’t let this job define me, not after what happened in that club. It’s like I have this huge secret, but so many people know the truth or suspect what happened. I let it destroy me and define me, and I realize it doesn’t. They don’t see me differently, and I don’t need to see myself differently.” I laughed, realizing that I had reached some kind of enlightenment during this assignment. “I guess I didn’t need to hide that from you either. I should have trusted that you wouldn’t see me as a monster. It just took me this long to realize that I’m not a monster or a killer, even though I’ve killed.”
He blinked. “I never would have thought that. That’s not why I avoided you or why things became strained between us.” He leaned in closer. “It was because you sent me away when I wanted to be with you. You lied to force me to leave. I knew it, but I still went. That part was on me.”
“It doesn’t matter now. Maybe I won’t make the same mistakes in the future. Perhaps I’ll take Decker’s advice and only date within my species. Then I won’t have to worry as much.”
Martin smiled. “You’d still worry.”
“Probably.” I blinked away the tears. “I’m sorry that I didn’t realize these things soon enough to save us. For what it’s worth, I really wish that I hadn’t forced you to go when you wanted to stay with me.”
He narrowed his eyes, a smirk playing across his lips. “You really think that I moved on in three months? I spent twelve just getting you to agree to go on a date. Have you ever known me to give up on a fight?”
“But you said you were seeing someone. Who is she?”
He practically burst into a fit of laughter. “First of all, she’s a he.” Not expecting that revelation, I didn’t say anything. “And second of all, he was my therapist. After two weeks, I fired him. I wanted to understand why my girlfriend left, and he wanted me to focus on the part I played in the dissolution of our relationship and to consider the possibility that I might have control issues.” He sighed dramatically. “Clearly, he didn’t understand the real root of the problem.”
“That we both have control issues?” I teased, and Martin smiled. “So you’re not seeing anyone?”
He leaned forward. “I’m seeing you.” He glanced toward the front door. “Depending on how long Mark stays away, I’d like to see a lot more of you.”
“Full disclosure, there’s a bit less of me to see. I tried to take a piece of rebar home as a souvenir and thought it’d be smart to embed it in my leg.”
That didn’t stop Martin from insinuating himself between the sofa and me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. “What are we doing?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.
“I don’t know.” I honestly had no clue. “I’m not sure we’ve figured out how to fix our problems.”
“But you seem different. It’s a start.” His hand slipped beneath the covers, finding its way underneath the hem of my shirt. He ran his hand along my abdomen. “I’m different now too. I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” We started to kiss. “You’ll see.”
“I can guess what it might be.” Hearing a key in the lock, I put my palm on his chest. “We can’t have sex on Mark’s couch.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s home,” I replied, giving him a playful push. “And he’s Mark. And we’re … us.”
He nodded, sitting up and adjusting himself. “Yeah. I gotcha. We need more time to sort this thing out. I’ll think about what you said, and I’ll let you know what I decide.” The sudden shift was like whiplash, and I gave him a confused look. “We’ll talk about this tonight.”
“What’s tonight?”
He stood up, moving toward the front door as Mark entered. “You’ll see.”
* * *
That evening, I attended the police gala as Jablonsky’s date. What he failed to mention was that an entire table had been purchased. Detective Thompson had brought a date. Detective Derek Heathcliff was solo, but he was smart enough to put his jacket on the empty chair and come up with a lie as to where his date went. Detective Nick O’Connell and his wife, Jen, were seated across from me, but there were still two empty seats at the table, conceivably for Lieutenant Moretti and his wife.
Nick and Derek asked about my recent absence, and I gave them vague details about the case. Derek was drinking more than usual, but he seemed to be bouncing back from the last debacle we had faced. Nick and Jen kept eyeing me, as if they knew a secret and weren’t willing to share. Mark was nursing a whisk
ey sour and scanning the room. His tense posture and alertness had me on edge, so my eyes immediately locked on Martin the moment the elevator doors opened.
He stepped out with a statuesque redhead by his side. She laughed politely, placing her hand on his forearm before moving off toward a group and exchanging air kisses with a few of them. Martin didn’t stay near his date; instead, he searched the room for our table and sauntered over. A few hours ago, that bastard had me convinced he wasn’t seeing anyone.
Martin greeted Mark, leaned over the table to give Jen a friendly hug, nodded to Derek, and shook hands with Nick. Thompson and his date had disappeared to the bar. In usual fashion, Martin put his hand on the back of my chair and sat beside me, brushing his lips against my cheek.
“You’re radiant,” he cooed, slipping a hotel room key beneath my napkin so carefully that I didn’t think anyone saw him do it. “Maybe we can continue our conversation from this morning.”
“Maybe.”
Jen smiled brightly, glad to see that the two of us were on speaking terms. “It’s nice to see you again, James. I’m glad you’re off the crutches.”
“Crutches?” I turned to him.
“I tweaked my knee. It wasn’t a big deal,” Martin replied, downplaying the event. “It was just a couple of weeks.”
“That’s what you get for rappelling down a wall at that speed,” Heathcliff muttered from the other end of the table, and my eyes shot to him as if I were watching a tennis match. “You passed the course. You didn’t have to try to break the record.”
Martin glared, giving Heathcliff a look I’d never seen before.
“Oh for god’s sake,” O’Connell huffed, “just tell her already. She’s going to be pissed about it anyway, but drawing it out will make it worse.”
“Make what worse?” I asked.
Martin swallowed. “As you’re about to find out, I made a sizeable donation to the police department. Our friends in blue could use the funds.” The philanthropic reasoning wasn’t going to work on me, and I continued to stare at him. “I also convinced them to allow me to be a civilian ride along, so to speak. I went through the same training courses as ESU. For the last six weeks, ever since you called that night, that’s what I’ve been doing. Weapons, tactics, emergency response, and first responder training. It was abbreviated, obviously. And Jabber got HRT to agree to let me run their course also.”
