by K. M. Hodge
“Yeah, thanks.” Jason walked outside and looked inside the bag. Inside was a bottle of Imperial Blue Whiskey and a jump drive with the words “no net” written in marker on the side.
He rushed home, slammed the door behind him, carefully placed the bottle and the drive on the counter, and went in search of his old laptop with a USB port. The information contained on the external drive must be big. Why else would they want him to go to such trouble to keep it hidden from electronic surveillance?
He finally found the laptop in the back of the coat closet, covered in dust. He sat down at the table and wiped it off with his arm. The note had said “no web,” so he switched off the Wi-Fi receiver and plugged it into the wall to charge. He let out a sigh of relief when it booted up without a problem.
He plugged in the drive to the USB port and waited. Seventeen years ago his life had changed after he’d been given some jump drives.
The files on the 16-GIG drive opened, and Jason’s jaw dropped, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of data it contained. A few quick clicks later and he was reading business documents and government files about the scope of The Syndicate. They laid out not only drug, weapons, and human trafficking, but also money laundering, racketeering, and bribing of public officials.
The Syndicate was not only back; it was bigger than ever. This was the part of his book that had been missing. Now he knew what the remaining Syndicate members had been up to. All that he and Katherine and the others had done had been for naught. The last file in the folder was a photo of a handwritten list—the list. Most of the names were of individuals who had recently turned up dead, but it was the last name that gave him pause: Marianna.
He pulled up her number on his smart watch to call her, but paused. They were fighting, and maybe split up. He’d been too drunk to remember much about the fight, and this was too much for him to deal with sober. He pushed back his chair, opened up the bottle of whiskey, and drank it straight from the bottle. He activated his smart watch and impulsively texted her.
I miss you.
His heart raced in his chest when the familiar ding announced she had texted him back.
I miss you, too.
He bit his lip, considering his next text for a moment before submitting send.
Can I see you tonight?
I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Her response made his chest hurt. His fingers trembled.
Are you breaking things off?
There was a long pause, a break from the almost frantic back and forth texting from before. At last, she texted him back, and he felt like he could breathe again.
Are you sober?
Jason looked at the whiskey bottle he had already downed a fourth of and considered lying, but he couldn’t do that to her.
No.
His watch pinged.
Talk to me when you’re sober. Until then I think we need a break from each other.
He leaned back on the kitchen chair and stared wordlessly at his smartwatch, willing her to text back that she hadn’t meant it. Instead, the music program started up again on his Atlantis.
What the heck does this person want?
Madonna’s True Blue song started up again. This was beginning to feel like the setting of a horror film. That would be his luck to have this Blue chick chop him up into little pieces and throw him in the St. James. He grabbed the bottle by the neck and walked over to the Atlantis. He once again logged on to the dialogue box with a fingerprint and retinal scan. The booze had lowered his inhibition and he drunkenly typed into the box first.
Jason: Thanks for the booze.
True Blue: It will have to be your last hurrah. If we’re going to do this right, you’ll need to be sober.
Jason sighed and let his fingers dance across the red letters.
Jason: Why is everyone so concerned about my sobriety?
True Blue: Drunks make mistakes. We can’t afford to make mistakes. Not with this.
He couldn’t really argue with her on that. With Mari wanting nothing to do with him, he had nothing left to lose. Why not go after one of the largest criminal organizations with just a book. The pen might be mightier than the sword, but they didn’t stop bullets.
Fuck it!
Jason: Okay, I’m in. What’s the plan?
True Blue: We meet tonight. Pack light.
***
Manny Richards’s Brownstone
Alexandria, Virginia
June 19, 2025
7:00 PM
~~~
While Manny walked the last of the mourners out, he remembered he hadn’t watered the flowers lining the steps leading up to his brownstone. Maggie was always getting on him to take better care of them.
I’m never going to hear her nag me about the flowers, or anything else for that matter, ever again.
For Maggie, he filled the watering can they kept by the front door and started to water the plants. As he bent over to water the first row he suddenly felt his skin prickle with fear. The plants had been moved.
The colorful pots were lined up and grouped by color.
***
Shockhoe Slip Neighborhood
Richmond, Virginia
June 20, 2025
Midnight
~~~
Mari used the key Jason had given her to get in through the back door. When she awoke that morning and saw the secured message from Jason—a screenshot of the kill list with her name at the top—she had raced across town to his home. The house was dark and eerily clean and empty.
She walked upstairs, and noticed his travel book bag, knapsack, and toothbrush were missing. His bed had been made.
Back downstairs, a slip of paper on the kitchen table caught her eye: an invoice from a cleaning service, which Ellie must have hired. At least that explained why the place seemed so spotless. But where had Jason gone? His truck was still in the driveway and he hated using the automated car services. Maybe he’d gone to his grandfather’s cabin. More likely, he was drinking.
All these thoughts and more ran through her troubled mind as she closed and locked the door. Her legs shook as she walked back to her car and got inside. Her hands trembled as she sent him a quick text message.
What’s going on? Where are you? I’m worried.
***
Pump House at Byrd Park
Richmond, Virginia
June 20, 2025
Midnight
~~~
Jason waited in the dark, leaning against the damp stone of the pump house, the yellow glow of the security lights the only light sources on the moonless night.
No one will see us.... Great place to be lured to your death.
He checked his smart watch for the umpteenth time; Blue was over forty minutes late. He slipped his hands back into the pockets of his khaki shorts and fingered Katherine’s one-day chip from AA, his foot resting flush against the building wall. All he could think about was the bottle of whiskey he had poured down the kitchen sink. The stakes were too high for him to be drunk. As much as it would pain him, he needed to be sober for this. Well, as sober as he could be after drinking half a bottle of whiskey.
“Did you come alone?” Her voice jump-started his heart.
He looked around, searching for her. He stepped farther into the darkness and caught the faint outline of her waiting in the shadows—concealing herself from him. “Yeah, I’m alone.” He wet his lips.
She stepped out of the shadows and his breath hitched. He took her in: about his age, maybe younger, but definitely in her forties; medium height with muscular arms and legs; vibrant blue hair that matched her doey eyes, pulled back in a messy bun; several piercings on her ears and nose; with various tattoos and leather jewelry that accentuated her biker girl look. She wore torn black leggings, a mini skirt, and a spaghetti-strapped tank top with a black lacy bra underneath. She was breathtakingly hot and frightening all at the same time.
Her scrutinizing gaze made him squirm. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to fuck
her or run in the opposite direction.
“You’re even cuter in person.” She gave him a sly grin as she looked him up and down—sizing him up.
“Thanks, I guess.” His breath caught a little.
She sauntered over and pinned him to the wall, her hands placed on either side of him to trap him in place.
He didn’t want to run anyway.
“You really want a drink, right now.” It wasn’t a question.
Her gaze fell to his mouth, and all he could think about was how much he wanted her to kiss him.
She ran her index finger down the buttons of his lightweight button-down shirt.
He swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“You want to kiss me, too.”
He looked to her full mouth, and wanted so much more than just a kiss. His whole body hummed as he looked down into her blue eyes. Her lips parted as she rose on her tiptoes, and he met her half way.
He whispered against her open mouth, “I don’t even know your name.”
She smiled and took his bottom lip between hers. His eager hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him, at which point she moved her hands between them and deftly unbuckled his pants.
He barely had time to blink. The touch of her cool hand pressed against his naked flesh broke the spell she had cast on him, and he broke away from the kiss in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me.” She dropped to her knees.
What the hell? How have things gone so far off the rails?
“Not like that.” He cupped her head and brought her back up to her feet.
The events of the evening played out before him as he gazed into her deep blue eyes. They would have sex, right there with her up against the wall—consequences be damned.
He grabbed her and spun her around so she was pinned against the hard stone wall. “And you want me to do this.”
“Yes.” She looked up at him—wide-eyed and ready.
The smell emanating from her core choked him. This was foreign territory for him. The compulsion to take her right there, in the middle of the night in a public park, took over his mind until it was all he could think about. He had fallen so far down the rabbit hole he was beginning to think he would never see the light of day. Though, like tonight, the darkness had its moments, too.
He knew from that moment on he would be haunted and thrilled by the memory of that night: the sound of her clothes ripping, the taste of her damp skin on his tongue, and the feel of her fingernails digging into the tender skin of his back.
***
Their ragged breaths punctuated the still night air, bringing him back down from his momentary fevered madness. His shaking arms released her from his grasp and she slid down the wall back onto her feet. In silence, they righted their clothing as best they could.
She ended up throwing her ruined leggings in the park trash can. Before the awkwardness of the moment could even sink in, she was pulling him by the hand to where she had two bikes parked. “I had a friend snag us some bikes. Can you drive?”
He nodded, still dazed. He had taken a car service to the park like she had requested, so he didn’t have to worry about leaving anything behind. He picked up the knapsack that had been sitting against the pump house building.
“I... uh... rode a Harley in college.” He left out the part where he had also gotten his nose pierced and dyed his hair black.
She smiled up at him with a twinkle in her eye as she tossed him a helmet and put on her own. “Well, all right then. Let’s ride.”
***
Highway 81
Just outside Virginia’s Washington National Forest
June 20, 2025
3:00 AM
~~~
Jason followed his hot new source for several hours down back roads and through sleepy towns, until they came up on Highway 81. A chill ran down his spine despite the oppressive heat. He knew at once where they were headed—the cabin. The last time he stepped foot in the cabin, he’d found Katherine nearly dead after being brutally beaten and raped.
A short time later, they pulled up on the gravel driveway. His mouth went dry and his hands began to shake—and not from alcohol withdrawal. “Why did you bring me here?”
She hopped off her bike and took off her helmet. “No one will find us here.”
She was right; no one in their right mind would think to look for him here.
They walked toward the front door, and he paused on the first porch step. It was suddenly hard for him to breathe. He held onto the banister for support. “I don’t think I can go in there.” He panted and his heart beat hard against his chest.
She turned to look down at him with a look of disgust. Her tongue made a clicking sound and he saw a glint of metal in her mouth—tongue ring. She snatched his hand and pulled him forward. “Yes, you can.”
The conviction and certitude in which she said the words caught him off guard. She wasn’t going to coddle him. No, she expected him to face the memories on the other side of the door—sober no less. There would be no room for him to fail on this.
“Come on, now,” she said, her brows drawn down in irritation. “We don’t have time for this shit.”
He let her tug him up the remaining steps and over the threshold of the front door. His eyes inevitably fell to the spot where Katherine had nearly bled out. Though the police cleaned it up seventeen years ago, he swore he could see a distinct stain on the concrete. Thankfully, his woman of mystery didn’t let him dwell on it.
She tugged his hand towards the table in the backroom. “I picked up an old typewriter. I paid cash for it so there’s no paper trail. I think there’s enough ribbon to last you through half a dozen books. At least that’s what the man at the antique store told me.” She pointed to the typewriter sitting on the folding table.
“Every couple of days, I’ll come by and pick up what you’ve done, and have it scanned by the MDNA Hacktivist group. It will be held on their secured storage device. It’s clean—never once been on the net. The group is already online drumming up interest in the hacker world. We go live in a month. I hope that gives you enough time to get it all written down. We have to be careful or they can trace us—nothing digital, not even your smart watch to check the time.”
She held out her hand, waiting for him to put his watch in it. “Your tablet, too.”
She shut everything off, removed the sim cards, and smashed them underneath her boot. She ran outside to place the disabled devices in her bike’s leather side sack.
He sat down and fed the first sheet of paper into the typewriter, moving the carriage over all the way to the right and typing the first thing to pop into his mind.
“Hell is empty and the devils are here.”
“Shakespeare, The Tempest,” she said.
Jason looked up at her with genuine surprise.
“You think because I look like I live in a trailer and ride a bike that I ain’t never read anything?”
No, he wouldn’t underestimate this one; she was a rare bird. He pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her. Forget alcohol; kissing her was his new favorite way to get high.
Chapter 7
Church Hill Neighborhood
Richmond, Virginia
June 20, 2025
5:00 AM
~~~
Mari awoke in Jason’s bed to the sound of her phone ringing on the pillow beside her. She adjusted her hands-free device, sat up, and blindly answered the call without even looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Detective, I’m sorry to wake you. This is Dr. Nemhouser, the chief medical examiner here in Richmond. I’m told you’re the detective assigned to the Mitchel murder. Is this right?”
Mari’s sleep-addled mind tried to process the disappointment of the call not being Jason. The last thing she wanted was to deal with the Mitchel case, which, according to the department, was open and shut.
“Yes, I’m the detective on the case. I thought the body had already been released
to the family.”
“Ye-es, ma’am, that was the... uh... plan. However, when we were filling out the paperwork and preparing to get the body ready for transport... well....”
“Well... what?”
“I don’t know quite how to tell you this, but it appears we’ve lost the body.”
“What? How does one lose a dead body, exactly?” She stood up and looked around Jason’s bedroom floor for the shoes she’d kicked off the night before.
“I assure you, Detective, this is a first and we are going to get to the bottom of this.”
Mari finger-combed her hair into a tight bun at the base of her neck and checked herself in the mirror. “Doctor, you need to find that body and find it quick.”
She ended the call and pounded her fist onto the dresser, then noticed a text message notification from Emmanuel Richards.
Detective, we need to talk. Call me first thing.
She sunk down on the end of the bed and buried her face into the palms of her hands. Tears fell as the stress hit her, the feeling that everything fell on her shoulders.
***
Richmond-Criminal General District Court
Richmond, Virginia
June 20, 2025
9:30 AM
~~~
Charles waited in cuffs, flanked by two uniformed officers, outside Judge Lipnick’s chambers.
Thirty minutes prior, the judge had formally charged Charles with one count of murder solicitation. His pipsqueak lawyer had argued and fought more gallantly than he thought she would.
He tapped his foot on the linoleum floor and watched the clock. How long would it take her to realize that the prosecution had no desire to work out a deal?
Might as well prepare myself for jail. Is it too much to ask that someone trust me for once?
He thought of his father-in-law, of how Katherine would have taken the loss, and whether she would have believed him.
They had the wrong guy, but no one cared as long as someone paid for the crime.
***
Manny Richards’s Brownstone
Alexandria, Virginia
June 20, 2025
9:30 AM
~~~
The half-empty pack of cigarettes proved The Syndicate was bad for Manny’s health. He paced back and forth on his back deck as he waited for Detective Espinoza to call him back. She hadn’t returned his text, but it didn’t stop him from anxiously checking his phone every few minutes.
