Fallen Angel

by G. K. Parks

  “Do you have to go?” She spun away from the sink, fear in her eyes.

  “I can get you set up in another apartment or take you to a hotel if that would make you feel safer.” Though hotels and motels would be some of the first places Scott would check after he finished searching the shelters and rescues.

  “No, you’ve done enough.” She swallowed. “Maybe I could come with you. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “Let me call the office. Assuming Justin has everything under control, I can probably stick around for a little while and work from here.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” This was a bad idea, but I was tired and stressed and didn’t want any repeats of this morning. And since I knew Scott was desperate to find her, if Jade called a second time, I’d rush right over and break down the door, again.

  Fourteen

  “Lucien.”

  “Hmm?” I forced one eyelid to lift and then the other.

  “It’s morning. Do you have to go to work?”

  “What?” I blinked and sat up. Empty takeout containers littered the coffee table. Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. 9AM. “Shit. I never sleep this late.”

  “Thanks for staying.” Jade popped another pod into the coffeemaker and pressed the button. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I rubbed a hand through my hair and stumbled to the bathroom. I spent the entire day working from Jade’s couch since the incident with the police left her rattled. Admittedly, it rattled me too, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. But I could see it on my face. I looked like hell. Two days without a shower or shave left me ripe and looking a little bit homeless.

  Yesterday afternoon, Justin brought the signed contracts over. Cross Security signed twelve of the fourteen candidates I selected, which was two more than I thought we’d get and four more than we needed. Unfortunately, they didn’t start until Monday, and I didn’t know any of the security specialists well enough to trust them to watch Jade, who was leery of everyone, even me.

  She kept her distance from Justin when he brought the files and then returned with the takeout. He and I went over the day’s details and meetings while eating Chinese and sitting on the couch. But even though I came rushing to her rescue, Jade kept her distance, even circling around to avoid walking near us. I couldn’t thrust an unknown bodyguard on her, unless she’d be more comfortable with one of the two women I hired. That was a possibility we’d have to discuss at a future date.

  I stepped out of the bathroom. “Did Justin offend you?”

  “No, he’s been great.”

  I picked up the mug and took a sip. Testing out my theory, I reached for the milk beside her hand, and she withdrew. “That bastard, Scott, really did a number on you.”

  She met my eyes but didn’t respond. We stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee in silence. I had too much to do. I shouldn’t have slept on the couch. I could barely believe I fell asleep or slept as long as I did. Gulping down the rest, I put my mug in the sink.

  “I’ll see about getting the bedroom and bathroom doors fixed.” Though I’d have to be careful if I sourced out the work. It looked like someone broke in, and that would draw undue attention. The last thing any of us wanted were more cops snooping around. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” I grabbed my jacket off the hanger and slipped it on to conceal my holster. “I’ll see you later.”

  After showering, I felt better. More human. So I went to the office. My receptionist had the weekends off, but Justin was hard at work. He was a godsend, the only bright light from my time on Wall Street. He’d been an intern, my intern. When I suspected my boss of embezzling, Justin helped me get access to the files. The SEC didn’t know about his involvement. He could have stayed and become a trader or investment banker or whatever it was he originally intended. But people talk. Rumors spread, and even though no one had any proof he helped me, they suspected it and blackballed him too. So I owed him. And after these last few days, I really owed him.

  “Do you think she’s safe?” he asked, not looking up from the computer screen.

  “As safe as she can be.”

  “Even with the police sniffing around?”

  I slapped a copy of today’s paper on his desk. The ATM robbery got a tiny photo beneath the fold. “The reason for their lurking looks legit. It was just bad timing.”

  “Do you want to move her somewhere else? I found a few alternative locations.”

  “Maybe after the court proceedings. It’ll depend on how things play out.” I went into my office. “Right now, we have more pressing matters.” And I couldn’t keep shelling out cash.

  Opening my presentation files, I reviewed the details about my perspective clients and tailored each presentation to fit their needs. I needed paying customers before I bankrupted my personal savings while trying to get things off the ground. Signing a big name would solve most of my problems. Once I had a steady income stream, I could hire men like Amir Karam and expand. The first thing I’d do would be move out of this office. Image was everything, and this place wouldn’t impress a cockroach.

  When I locked down each of my four presentations, I reread the jackets on my new hires. My twelve new employees would report to work Monday morning. Thankfully, I already had an employee handbook and crisis manual ready to go. I even paid a few thousand to have a set of training videos prepared, and I hired a retired Secret Service agent to conduct the training sessions and set up a few obstacle courses and drills. But I hoped this would be nothing more than a refresher course for them. Bodyguard work required a particular skill set, which they already possessed but with a few tweaks. Six of the men had previous experience in private security and came highly recommended. Everything should run smoothly, though I never expected anything to ever run smoothly.

  By the time I finished getting everything set up, it was dark. Justin left three hours ago. It was time I did the same. Before heading home, I stopped by the hardware store, picked up some supplies to fix the doors, and headed to Jade’s.

  Last night, she stayed in the bedroom while Justin and I worked in the living room. Tonight, she stayed in the living room while I worked in the bedroom. After replacing the doorknob with a new one that had a much better lock, I hammered in the loose parts of the doorframe. Hopefully, the landlord wouldn’t pay too much attention since I hoped to get my security deposit back.

  The bathroom was easier to fix since the doorjamb remained intact. The lock on that door was so cheap, the internal mechanism gave out under the pressure, so I replaced that doorknob too. Wiping my hands on a towel, I glanced around. Jade hadn’t unpacked anything. The only items on the counter were things I ordered for the apartment.

  “Do you need anything else?” I asked.

  Jade looked up from her copy of People magazine. “No.” But I saw the fear in her eyes.

  I took a step back, dropping the hammer and screwdriver into the plastic bag. Once they were out of sight, she visibly relaxed. The only thought in my head was Scott Renwin was a piece of shit. The police department knew it, but they didn’t do a damn thing about it. And tonight, I’d find out why.

  Fifteen

  “Hey. You aren’t supposed to be in here,” the officer said.

  I turned, automatically lifting my hands to waist height so he’d know I wasn’t armed. Slowly, I removed the flashlight from my mouth. “You’re right.”

  “Let’s go, buddy.” He jerked his chin toward the door. “How did you get in here?”

  I chuckled, stepping away from the dark shelves and into the light. “It wasn’t too hard.” I recognized him, though I didn’t recall his name.

  “You’re–”

  “Yep.” I cleared my throat, the lie already prepared. “My father said he had some files and records pulled for me, but when I checked his office, they weren’t there. Someone forgot to do it. I thought I’d just grab them myself since I didn’t want to make a fuss and get anyone
in trouble.” I stepped closer, compliant and friendly. “I guess we better call him and get this straightened out.”

  The officer didn’t like that idea. “Maybe I can help you find them. It’s late. We don’t need to inconvenience him.”

  I held the smile, though my thoughts went dark. I doubted anything could inconvenience him more than my existence. “Are you sure?”

  “No problem. What are you looking for?”

  So I told him. If the officer was suspicious why I needed access to Sgt. Renwin’s case files and evaluations from three years ago, he didn’t act like it. Instead, he went to the terminal in the corner and typed in the request. Unfortunately, the files weren’t digitized. I already looked.

  “You know,” I said as he went in search of the box on the shelf, “I helped design that system.” I jerked my chin at the computer. It was a few years ago, right after I graduated college but before signing up for the police academy, back when I thought being a cop was the greatest thing in the world. A lot had changed, but the backdoor I created into the system had not. Though it hadn’t helped me access any of the information I needed on Scott since performance reports and evaluations weren’t stored digitally.

  “How old were you?” The officer reached for a box beside the one I had been searching. “You must have been a kid.”

  I laughed. “Thanks, but I’m not that much of a prodigy.” Spotting the department psychologist’s notes in the box I had abandoned, I kept my eyes on the officer’s back while I carefully reached inside and slipped the notes into my jacket pocket without him noticing.

  “And your father still has you running errands for us?” The officer pulled out a few files and handed them to me. “He should put you on the payroll.”

  “Who says I’m not?” I teased, though I had to work hard to keep my fists from clenching and my jaw from tightening. I stared down at the files until I was sure my poker face was back in place. “Seems light.” I hefted the stack.

  “We didn’t have much to go on from that incident.” He glanced down. “The Sarge caught a tough break with that one. Is this for a commendation or something?”

  “Yeah, but keep it quiet.”

  “Will do.”

  Instead of taking the files and signing them out, I said I just needed to verify a few details, and when the officer wasn’t looking, I snapped photos of each of the pages, returned the files to the box, and left without another word. That could have gone better, but I wasn’t in cuffs. So I shouldn’t complain.

  Safely inside my car, I checked the GPS tracker to make sure Scott was home, then I drove to Jade’s, pushed my seat back, and spread the shrink’s file out on the dashboard. I had work to do. I just didn’t know where to begin.

  The incident, as the officer referred to it, occurred over three years ago. A liquor store hold-up went south. The owner and two customers were shot and killed. Sgt. Renwin arrived first on scene. According to the report, he was inside the store when a second unit arrived. Shots were fired, killing a rookie officer and his T.O. Renwin failed to notice the shooter had ducked down a nearby alleyway to count his score.

  Renwin chased the suspect and apprehended him two blocks from the original scene. But the suspect had tossed the gun somewhere along the way. And the sergeant didn’t notice when this happened and failed to mention it in his report. When the weapon was recovered, the police couldn’t positively link it back to the shooter. The DA’s office rushed the case through since two cops and three civilians had been slain, but the grand jury failed to indict. Once released, the shooter committed a home invasion, killing a tender age child before being brought down by responding officers.

  Even though the department didn’t find Renwin at fault for the officers’ deaths, he was required to attend mandated counseling sessions. This was the tipping point, the traumatic incident, the thing that turned the man into a monster. But the shrink signed off, saying Renwin was fit to return to active duty.

  However, after the home invasion, Renwin became violent and belligerent, blaming himself for the child’s death. His commanding officer suggested anger management, but Renwin refused. No matter how hard he denied it, deep down, Renwin knew the truth. He was angry at himself and the world. Instead of finding a healthy outlet, he drank more and more. And one day that wasn’t enough. So he started knocking around the dirtbags he arrested. But it still wasn’t enough. Eventually, he turned that internal hatred outward and focused it on the one person who loved him – Jade.

  I dropped the file to the seat and stared out the windshield, a little nauseous and unsettled by the revelation. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Renwin just liked to beat up the weak as indicated by his perceived inferiority complex. Either way, I found the one helpful piece of information I hoped we’d find. His commanding officer wrote a note in Renwin’s file indicating the sergeant refused to go to anger management. That meant the department knew Renwin had a problem and was a ticking time bomb. It might not be proof that Renwin hit Jade, but it came pretty damn close. It would be enough. Almeada would take that one fact and build a rock solid case.

  Sixteen

  I kept sneaking quick peeks at my watch. The hearing should be underway. Did Scott Renwin show up in person? Did he have counsel? Toying with my phone, I checked the tracker’s location. According to this, Scott’s truck was parked at the precinct. Maybe he couldn’t get the day off, or maybe he drove a cruiser to court. The bastard might have shown up in full police regalia in the hopes of swaying the judge’s opinion. I wouldn’t put it past him.

  “Mr. Cross?”

  I blinked and clicked to another slide. “As I was saying, data breaches could have catastrophic repercussions.” Luckily, my carefully crafted notes and detailed presentation got my mind back on track. I didn’t even finish going through the slides before my first official Cross Security client signed the contract.

  “I don’t need to see anything else. Your investments and tips made me millions. I trust you. If you say this is what needs to be done to safeguard my company and assets, I say let’s do it.”

  “Okay, great. My assistant will schedule the initial review and consultation, and we’ll take it from there.”

  We shook hands, concluding my second meeting of the day. The first one didn’t go nearly as well. My potential client wanted to review the information and present it to his partners before signing the contract. Still, I got the impression it was a strong maybe and not an overt no.

  After my second appointment left, Justin stepped into my office. “We got one. Is it too early to start celebrating?” He held up a bottle of scotch.

  “No, but I better not come back from lunch to find you sloshed. Don’t forget our final appointment is this afternoon with Miranda.” I straightened my tie and buttoned my jacket. “Did you order a car?”

  “Yes. It’s waiting downstairs.”

  “Excellent.” I dug the phone out of my pocket, but I didn’t have any messages. “Hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And save me a glass of scotch.”

  “Will do.”

  I slipped inside the town car, glad to have a few moments of quiet before we picked up Mr. Rathbone on our way to the restaurant. I needed the time to rehearse my next presentation. Since Rathbone had an army of private security and a trusted board who kept his company up-to-date with the times, he didn’t want Cross Security to pitch him new ideas or protections. He wanted me to evaluate his security measures and personnel, find weaknesses, and eliminate them. Despite his grandfatherly exterior, Rathbone was the most cutthroat and ruthless man I’d ever met. And he wanted me to excise any malignancies with precision and ease.

  The car picked him up outside his office skyscraper. Maybe I should have gotten a limo instead of a town car, but the idea seemed too ostentatious at the time. Now, I wasn’t sure. We made small talk until we arrived at the restaurant. Once there, Rathbone ordered a steak, bloody, and a bottle of red wine. I followed suit, launching i
nto my pitch while he sliced through the meat with zeal.

  Around our second bottle of wine, Rathbone and I reached a gentlemen’s agreement, shaking on the deal. His legal department would review the contract. If they required any amendments, they’d reach out to my legal department, which at the moment was Mr. Almeada, and let him know. Cross Security had arrived.

  We finished the bottle, and the car took Rathbone back to his office before dropping me off at mine. I tipped the driver more than I should on account of my good fortune. Rathbone wanted background checks on every employee, and he employed thousands. Working for him could keep us afloat for months, even if no other clients came in, but I knew they would. This was just the beginning.

  My afternoon appointment showed up a half hour early, surprising me. Miranda didn’t want to listen to my presentation. She was looking for a security detail to accompany her while touring. After checking the dates to make sure my new hires had ample time to complete training, I told her it wouldn’t be a problem, and she signed on the dotted line.

  “What about your manager and the studio?” I asked. “Don’t they usually hire the help?”

  She laughed. “Obviously, you haven’t been following my career or the shakeup in the music biz.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been a little busy.”

  She eyed me up and down. “I’ll bet.”

  “Come on, Miranda.” When I first struck gold, my boss brought me in to assist on diversifying Miranda’s portfolio, but she’d taken a liking to me and made it clear I was the only one who could handle her assets. “You know how much work I’ve put into this.”

  “I do. Why do you think I took this meeting?”

  “You missed me.”

  “That too.” She held out her hand, and I brought it to my lips. “You know I can make room on the tour for one more. I’d let you coordinate my security any day.”

  “But who would run all this? I can’t just dump it in Justin’s lap.”