Private Investigation

by Aidèe Jaimes

  I look at David. He nods to indicate that it’s okay to answer. “Yes.”

  “Where did you meet with her?” Pruitt asks.

  “I don’t know. Ember’s driver picked me up.”

  “And what, did they blindfold you?” Mancia mocks.

  “Basically. I couldn’t see out the windows,” I tell the youngest of the three. There’s something about his face that sets my nerves further on edge. He’s too eager to bring someone down, too sarcastic.

  “So you have no idea where you went. Was there anywhere else you may have met her or followed her to during your investigation?” Kingston probes.

  Hesitating, I tap the table with my thumbs. I’m at a juncture where I have no idea what’s right anymore. My heart tells me to cover for her, but my mind tells me the truth. Nothing about her was real. “There was a place in the Everglades. A little house.”

  “Heaven’s Gate.” Kingston says.

  “You know it?” I ask, surprised.

  “Her mother owns it,” Detective Kingston answers. “I’ve been there a few times, wondering if perhaps she did business out of there, but I checked it off my list a couple of years ago. Guess I was wrong. Do you know what her intent was in hiring you?”

  Her mother owns the place. Of course. Yet another lie. To Kingston, I say, “Believe me, I wish I knew more than you do.”

  “She may not have gotten what she wanted,” Pruitt says to the room. “And if that’s the case, she may try contacting him again.”

  “What the hell would she want from me?” I point to myself. “I have nothing to offer a millionaire.”

  “You obviously have something to offer, and if she came after it once, she’ll try again,” the woman nods as she reiterates what Pruitt just said.

  “Well, out with it then. What’s the deal? That’s what you have there, isn’t it?” David asks.

  “It’s simple. We trail him for a few weeks. He’ll wear a wire for those weeks. If she doesn’t contact him, the time ends and he goes about his business. But if she does, we capture the conversation and arrest her on the spot.”

  David turns to me, whispering pointlessly, because I’m sure they can hear everything. “Do it.”

  “I thought you said you could get me off,” I whisper back.

  “Not without this leaving a mark on your record. You could lose your P.I license. Never return to the force.”

  “I don’t want to return—”

  He lifts a hand up to stop me. “If all you need to do is wear a damned wire for a few weeks, then do it.”

  “And what if she does contact me? I do what—just hand her over?” I ask him.

  “Yes, Matthew. She’s a criminal. Don’t let sympathy for her drag you down too.”

  Detective Kingston pushes the document and a pen in front of me. David takes it, going over the words. After a nod of approval, he gives it to me and I sign.

  Chapter 29

  I arrive back at the Saddler Beach Resort beyond exhausted. Every cell in my body is weary, tired of moving. Of existing.

  After being fitted with the wires I’ll be wearing for the next four weeks, I was released with no more than a pat on the back for “doing the right thing.” I don’t even know what that is anymore. I don’t give a fuck either.

  The bed looks inviting as I drag my feet past it, my eyes shutting of their own accord. But I’d rather lay my body six feet under than in that nest of sin.

  She’s been in those sheets. They still smell like her. Like our sex. It’s a scent that drove me wild when I was inside her. Now it would drive me to insanity, the loony bin kind.

  Instead, I sit in the chair by the window, letting my head hang to the side as I drift into the worst dreams of my life. Nightmares in which Eva and Lena are one and the same, and this merged version of the two points a finger at me with tears in her eyes and blood pouring from her throat.

  “You did this!” she hisses in a voice I don’t recognize, yet I know it’s theirs.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.”

  “Matthew, let me—”

  My lids open, and for less than a split second, I look into soft brown eyes. But when I blink, they’re gone. I sit up, startled, wiping the sleep away.

  “Lena?” I ask the silence.

  It’s dark outside. The clock on the desk tells me in bright red numbers that it’s eleven forty-five. I’ve slept for two hours in this awkward position, something my neck will hate me for. Rubbing it, I stand, packing up my shit as quickly as I can.

  There’s no way in hell I’ll stay in this room another night. It’s toxic to my soul. Everything about this experience has been toxic. A drug that made me deliriously happy while I was high, but now I’ve crashed so hard that I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.

  Five hours later, I’m back in my Jacksonville studio. By the smell of bleach wafting my way as soon as I open the door, I can tell Carina was here recently. Shaking my head at my mother’s imprudence with my house key, I walk into the familiar space, hoping that it will somehow help reset me.

  But it doesn’t. Not when the first thing I see lying on the coffee table is a picture of Lena, the one I compared Eva to before I left. Suddenly, my world crashes around me, and I fall to my knees, holding her face to me.

  Breathing is near impossible with this vise around my chest that’s squeezing the life out of me.

  Breathe. Breathe! I yell in my head, until finally, I’m able to gasp for air, taking in as much of the precious stuff as I can before, once again, I’m dragged into despair.

  I want to let go of it all, to set myself free. But I can’t. I can’t let go of Lena, and I can’t let go of Eva. Which means I’m fucked.

  When the sun rises, I find myself on the couch. My chest still aches, but I know it’s nothing physical that can be healed.

  From somewhere under me, my phone rings, and I find it stuck between the cushions. It’s Justin.

  He starts speaking before I say anything. “I’m sorry, bro. For everything.”

  “And I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t really think you’re good at sucking dick.”

  “I’m sure Henry would disagree with you,” he says, laughing sarcastically. “He wouldn’t have kept me around otherwise.”

  “Mmm. Wish he would’ve kicked you to the curb before you got hooked on that mess.”

  “Yeah, I know. Have I ever thanked you for helping me?” he asks.

  “Nope.”

  “Well, thanks. And thanks for not telling Mom about it.”

  “What are brothers for?”

  “Not to hurt each other. I’m sorry I called the police.” There’s regret in his voice. A lot of it. It’s hard not to forgive him, because I know he means it.

  “You needed to do it. I get it.” It’s true, though I can’t say I’d have done the same to him.

  “Did I get you in a lot of trouble? Did they find her?”

  “Yes and no. But don’t worry, they let me go with the condition that I’d be wired in case she contacts me.”

  “So you’re back?” He seems surprised.

  “Yeah. Came in last night.”

  “Why do they think she’ll reach out?”

  Rubbing my dry eyes, I say, “Apparently, she’s not just a prostitute. She’s a straight up pimp.”

  “Shit,” he breathes out.

  “That’s how I feel. And her husband, the one who reached out to you, has been dead for eight years.”

  “I just got chills from that.”

  “Relax, it wasn’t a spook. They believe that maybe it was one of her employees.”

  “He didn’t look much like a Peter, that’s for sure. I should have known something was off. That upfront cash blinded me,” Justin admits.

  “What did he look like, by the way?”

  “Big guy. Sort of Hispanic looking. Had a bit of an accent.”

  “And his eyes?” I almost hate to ask, but the description I’m getting makes me wonder.
/>   “I couldn’t see them. He wore aviators the whole time.”

  “Carlos. It was fucking Carlos.”

  “Who the fuck is Carlos?”

  “Her guard. Or as Ember said, witne…” Another thought suddenly hits me. Ember. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, especially after I’d met Eva. Fuck me! It was her I spoke with. It was her all along! As much as I’m trying to deny it, there’s no doubt left in my mind that what Pruitt said was true. Eva and Ember are one and the same.

  She played me like a fucking fiddle, and I’m no one’s instrument to use as they please. Now I’m more than hurt and confused. Now I’m fucking pissed.

  “Matty?”

  “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

  “Will I see you Monday?”

  “You know, I think I’ll take the week off.” And pray to every power who will listen, that Eva comes close enough to trap.

  Chapter 30

  I know she’s there. I’ve felt her watching me for over an hour. Under the table, I type, She’s here. Then I send it to Detective Pruitt.

  They were right about her. It didn’t take long before I saw the first signs of her presence. Five days. The number of days we were together. I’ll see a shadow behind me, disappearing the moment I turn. Footsteps where there are no feet. A white Audi trailing three cars behind me everywhere I go.

  Now that I’m aware of her, I’ll see her reflection from the corner of my eye. But even if I couldn’t see her, I’d sense her. I feel her so strongly that she might as well be standing in front of me.

  “Some more coffee, hun?” Shyla asks.

  “No.”

  “Well, looks like someone has a case of the grumpies.” Shyla’s sweet face reddens when I turn frustrated eyes to her.

  Some of the barely restrained anger seeps through the seams as I look up at her, and she takes a step back. “My check, please,” I tell her.

  “Yes, of course.”

  Less than a minute passes before the check is pressed onto the table with a slap and she walks away. It’s not her fault. None of this is. And though I feel awful for it, I’m in no mood to apologize for my rudeness. At least, not with words.

  After I leave her a twenty-dollar tip for my five-dollar meal, I head out. Within seconds, I hear the bell over the diner door chime and the light click-clack of heels behind me.

  For three blocks, she follows.

  I go into a liquor store and wait at the end of the vodka aisle. She’s there too. I can see her in the rounded mirror in the ceiling. Her eyes spot me, and slowly, she makes her way toward me.

  For the first time, I see her for what she really is.

  Gone is the sweetness, the vulnerability. The woman I swore to save.

  In her place is an actress, a manipulator, someone who turned me inside out. She’s anything but weak, and her posture, the way she carries herself, her expensive black slacks and crisp white button-up shirt with diamond cufflinks, tell me she could be nothing less than the head of that organization.

  She slithered into my heart with her pretty face, and I want her out because I don’t know what exactly I’ve let in. But even now, with all this resentment rolling off me in waves, I can’t help but see the sadness in her proud cat eyes, and I desperately want to reach out and take the pain away.

  She stops a few feet from me, looking directly into my eyes. “Matt.”

  “Eva. Or should I say Ember?”

  Pointing to herself, she shrugs, shaking her head. “I’m both.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you. I wanted to call, but your phone is being traced. Then I went to your house, but it’s being watched.”

  “I’m being watched here too, Eva. The police will be here soon.”

  “I know,” she says.

  “What do you need to say that’s worth getting arrested?”

  “I’m sorry, Matt.”

  “For what? For giving me exactly what I asked for? For being a prostitute?”

  “For not telling you the truth when I had the chance. I always intended to tell you, but then you looked at me. ME! I didn’t want to lose you. I wanted to enjoy every moment of it, even though I had to let you go in the end.”

  “You can drop the act now. I know that you’re a pimp.” She doesn’t deny it, but she doesn’t agree either. Not enough for the police to go on.

  “This isn’t an act, Matt. Please, I just want to tell you how I feel.”

  “You lied to me. Your husband isn’t even alive, and neither are your children!” When she winces, I regret saying it. “I would have understood. I accepted you when I thought you were a harlot, but you still lied. You made me feel—” I swipe my hand down my face because I can’t put into words what she made me feel.

  “None of that was supposed to happen.” She shakes her head, pressing her fingers to her brow as if she’s searching for the right thing to say. “You weren’t supposed to know anything about me. Then bits leaked out and they got so mixed up in the lies that even I couldn’t tell them apart anymore. It was supposed to be a perfect week for you with Lena.”

  “But why? Were you aware that involving me in this could have cost me my license? It could have cost my entire family their licenses!” I’m screaming at her now.

  “I didn’t mean to…” A strangled sob stops her words, and she blinks, releasing the tears that have welled. She swallows hard, taking deep breaths, but she can’t stop shaking.

  “What I don’t get is why? Was it because you wanted to somehow ruin me? Who would want to put me out of business? Or worse, jail. Why go through the trouble? Who hired you, Eva?”

  “No one wanted to get you in trouble. I just didn’t foresee. I-I-I didn’t think.” She’s stuttering, losing her cool.

  “Bullshit. This isn’t something someone does for shits and giggles. Someone’s behind it and I want to know who. Who the fuck hired you?”

  The bearded clerk comes around the corner in a huff, his pants halfway down his hips. “You two need to take this outside. I don’t want no trouble.”

  Neither Eva nor I take our eyes off each other. We don’t move from the spot and we’re not going to.

  “Who. Hired. You.”

  “Shit.” The clerk backs away after seeing the seriousness of the situation. “I’m calling the police.”

  “It’s complicated. I need to find the right words.” She wrings her hands nervously around her purse. “I’ve rehearsed this for days now, and I can’t remember—”

  She stops when I take a step toward her, and to her credit, she remains where she is. We’re nose to nose. “Who hired you?”

  Suddenly, eyes that were so certain now glisten. A single tear rolls down her cheek and she swallows hard. “Matt, I have something of yours,” she whispers.

  “Fuck, just tell me!” I grab her by the arms, wanting to shake the answer from her. I feel crazed, wild.

  “You did! You hired me! It was you!”

  “The fuck I did!” I growl at her. “I would’ve never hired a prostitute.”

  “Well, you did. Twice.”

  “I never paid for anything.”

  “This”— from around her neck, she pulls on a thin silver necklace—“this was my payment.”

  The horror that fills me as I see the dangling object has me reaching for it. Lena’s ring. The one I’ve been trying to find for months.

  My fingers wrap tightly around it just as Eva rears back from me. The necklace snaps and she loses her balance, falling hard against the shelves full of bottles. They come crashing down with a thunderous boom that drowns out my own scream.

  When the dust clears and my mind can finally make sense of the scene, I’m horrified by the similarities it has to my soul. It’s nothing but a broken mess that makes absolutely no sense, and Eva is lying in the very center of it, crying openly now, holding her bloodied hands in front of her. Her shirt, wet and crimson, shows the large shards of glass that have pierced the skin of her back, and though her
pants don’t show it, I know her legs have been injured too.

  I reach for her, but just as before, I hesitate and my hand is shoved away before I can touch her. We’re surrounded. Detective Pruitt is beside me, saying something I can’t understand. All I can do is watch helplessly as Eva is roughly lifted to her feet.

  She’s turned, her hands cuffed behind her.

  “You have the right to an attorney…” the officer says as he reads her Miranda rights. She’s facing me, watching me with red-rimmed eyes.

  “Hey, a little gentler with the lady,” Pruitt tells him.

  “Why? She’s just a whore,” the officer grunts.

  “Unless you want your ass sitting next to her in that patrol car, I suggest you get her medical attention. Now!”

  Though he’s not happy about it, the officer complies.

  Just as she’s hauled away, I see the thin red line around her neck. I look down at my open hand. The ring lies there, still on the necklace I unwittingly tore off her soft skin. The bloody evidence remains between the tiny links.

  Pruitt turns to me with a proud smile. “We got her. And you, you’re lucky you signed that document, because it seems you really did pay for her service. I’ll have someone come by and take you to the station for a final statement. Then you’re free to go.”

  I say nothing. All I can do is look around me at the devastation.

  What have I done?

  Chapter 31

  Shit. That’s what I feel like. A total piece of shit. And I have no idea why. I did the right thing. She was doing something illegal. Breaking the law.

  Breaking my heart.

  “You did the right thing, Matty,” Justin comforts.

  “Did I?” I ask my brother.

  He doesn’t answer my question. Maybe he doesn’t know either. “Get some sleep.”

  I hang up, setting the phone down on my knee.

  After I described the scene of how Eva was dragged away like a murderer, bloodied and crying, he’d became suddenly quiet. He’d said, “They were just angry it took them so long to catch her. And it’s not really her they want. There’s a lot of corruption, and that’s what they’re really after. She’s just the link.”