by M. Z. Kelly
“I’m maintaining,” she said, smiling. “A day at a time, that sort of thing.”
“Do you see yourself coming back to work at some point?”
“It might be a few weeks, but that’s eventually my goal.” She smiled. “Some people might not understand, but I miss the work.”
“And we miss you. Charlie and Mumford nearly came to blows today.”
“That sounds like your old partner. How is Charlie?”
“A stress case who acts like he’s going through puberty again.”
Brie chuckled. “He sounds like a lot of men.” She then changed the subject, asking about the search for my bio-dad.
“Pearl’s finally surfaced. He left a message with his sister, something about being out of the country and looking into my adoptive dad’s death. Leo and I are hoping she’ll forward the message to us so we can figure out what’s going on.”
“And the papers you left at your mom’s?”
I’d previously told Brie all about my real or imagined encounter with the dead child and seeing myself hiding the paperwork my adoptive father had given me. “To be honest, I’ve been putting off going by Mom’s. We’re not on the best of terms, and I guess I’m a little apprehensive about what I might find.”
“You’re worried that the papers might show that Pearl is your father?”
I nodded. “I guess. I think I’m also just worn down by everything that’s happened. Then there’s the Harlee Ryland situation.”
“Has she surfaced?”
“The last I heard, she’s gone on some kind of retreat with the Tauists, but I’m sure I haven’t heard the last from her.”
Brie studied me for a moment. “You ever thought about getting away for a while?”
“You mean a vacation?”
She shook her head. “I’m talking about an extended leave. You’ve had a lot of stress in your life. Maybe a change of scenery and some time away would help.”
“My friend, Joe Dawson, hinted at the same thing, although I think he has ulterior motives.”
“He wants to be more than just friends?”
“I think so, but I’m not ready for a relationship. There’s also Ross Adams. He’s a detective with the city of Taft and wants to get together this weekend.”
“A date?”
“Just lunch and a walk. I’ve made it clear we’re just friends.”
We went back to talking about my case, the lack of cooperation demonstrated by her colleague, and the difficulty working homicide.
“Sometimes I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders when I work these cases,” I said. “I also feel a little lost, like there’s a million variables to sift through.”
Brie was quiet for a moment as she considered what I’d said. “I think the problem is that we each see things from our own perspective. Earl Mumford sees everything in black and white and is afraid to look at anything outside the box he’s created. Doctors sometimes only see things that are on the surface, and we too often miss the underlying causes. As law enforcement officials, I think things are sometimes seen in terms of right and wrong, and the variables are missed.”
“Are you saying that we need to look at this case from another perspective?”
“Maybe. Your case is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Brie paused, brushing a tear from her eye and her gaze moving off. “I take that back, maybe I have seen this before. It’s like the cancer that you think is gone, only to reappear where you least expect it.” She looked back at me. “I don’t mean to sound negative, but, in many ways, ours is a demon haunted world. We’re all on a mission to defeat the monsters in this world and to shine the light in the darkness.”
I studied her for a moment. “I think there’s something you’re trying to tell me that I don’t entirely understand.”
“I’m just saying that sometimes you have to look at things through the eyes of the killer. It might sound contradictory, but I think that’s the perspective that shines the light in the darkness. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that if you don’t succeed, your killer will walk away, unseen in the darkness, only to kill again.”
I sighed. “I just hope I’m up to this. I think this case is going to lead us in directions we don’t expect.”
Brie squeezed my hand. “Just let me know if I can help in any way. It makes me feel worthwhile.”
We took our time, finishing eating before settling the bill. On the way out of the restaurant, Brie said, “Give that idea about taking some extended time away some thought. Lily and I are thinking about taking some time off, maybe going away for a while. You’re always welcome to tag along.”
Lily was Brie’s five-year-old daughter, the light of her life. “I’ll consider it, right after I catch a guy who uses propofol to kill families.”
Brie reached over and hugged me. Maybe it was the compassion I was feeling because of her illness, or that fact that she had always been there for me, but when we parted I said, “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“Back at you and to the moon.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s what Lily and I say to one another every night. We call it love without limits.”
I brushed a tear and hugged her again. “To the moon. Always.”
NINE
I considered going by Mom’s on my way home, but the traffic was bad, and I didn’t get back to Hollywood until almost eight. Bernie was tending to some bushes in front of our mobile home when I heard Natalie’s voice.
“Come on over, Kate. Tex and Howie got themselves a million-dollar idea.”
I’d almost forgotten about Natalie’s boyfriend and their odd friend coming by. “I’m a little tired. I think I’ll just call it a day.” As soon as I’d said the words, there was a loud explosion coming from inside her home. “What the hell was that?”
Natalie was already rushing back inside as she called over to me, “We need your help.”
Bernie and I rushed into the home, which was filled with smoke and smelled of sulfur. I saw that Mo was lying on the floor, with Tex and Howie tending to her.
“What happened?” I said, helping them get my hefty friend to her feet.
“An unexpected discharge of static electricity and propane,” Tex said.
Natalie’s boyfriend was in his late twenties, with a shock of dark hair that stuck out like he’d put his finger in a light socket. He was brilliant, but seriously deranged. His hobbies included experimenting with everything from sex toys to particle physics.
Tex looked at Howie. “It would appear that we have some fine tuning ahead of us.”
“Indeed,” Howie said. “I haven’t seen anything like this since I produced a room full of ball lightning while experimenting with atmospheric variables in a glass chamber.”
Howie Cromwell was also in his late twenties, and handsome, or maybe a better adjective would be pretty. He had brown hair and blue eyes with thick lashes, along with enough personalities to fill a small stadium. I’d never encountered the same persona twice whenever I was around him.
“Are you okay?” I asked Mo when we got her upright.
“I think so,” she said through a curtain of red hair. I helped her straighten her wig, which had slid sideways on her head. She looked at Tex and Howie. “What the hell just happened?”
Natalie answered for them. “Their prototype wand backfired like somethin’ out of a bad Harry Potter movie.”
“Backfired would be the operative word indeed,” Tex said. He looked at Howie. “Reminds me of the SpaceX rocket exploding on its launch pad.”
Howie was wearing a white coat, and glasses that magnified his beautiful eyes, maybe in an effort to look like a mad scientist. He made it clear he was upset. “I think this was a matter of operator error.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Tex said. “I have complete operational control of the Twerk.”
I looked at my friends. “What the hell are they talking about?”
“Tex and Howie invented
a wand, called the Twerk,” Natalie said. “It’s gonna be bigger than the iPhone.”
“It will revolutionize modern life as we know it,” Tex said.
“Yeah,” Mo agreed. “People will be blown up when they least expect it.”
“The Twerk is a state of the art electronic device that can be used for everything from a phone to a stun gun to a sex toy,” Howie said.
Mo was still working on her wig. “Not to mention a bomb.”
“We just have a few kinks to work out,” Tex said, looking at Natalie and smiling.
“I’m ready to help out anyway I can,” Natalie said.
Howie rolled his eyes, waved a hand to clear the sulfuric air. “I think that’s my cue to leave.” He looked at Tex. “Let me know when the Twerk Two is ready for clinical trials.”
After he was gone, and Natalie and Tex went off to—I’d rather not think about what they were planning to do with their Twerk—Mo and I opened the windows to clear the air and went out to her porch.
My big friend released a long breath, like a truck applying its air brakes. “I don’t know if I’m gonna survive another round of baby sis being with Mr. Brainiac again. You ask me, he’s dangerous.”
“I can’t disagree. Maybe you should have a long talk with Natalie and tell her to take things slow.”
Mo’s dark eyes fell on my furry partner, who was panting, maybe trying to clear his lungs. “I might just as well have a long talk with Bernie.” After a long moment, she met my eyes. “You look like you’ve had a long day.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“I heard the Bratton family got the Michael Jackson treatment.”
“How’d you know about that?”
Mo turned her head slightly and regarded me with one eye. “You really gotta ask?”
I sighed. “I guess not. The case is a ten on the bizarre scale.”
“You guys check out the daddy yet?”
I shook my head. “Probably tomorrow. We talked to his wife and the surviving daughter today, but didn’t get much.”
“Except for Amy tellin’ you some woman drugged her.”
“Why don’t I ask you for the details, since you seem to know more than me.”
“All I know is you need to follow up on the hubby. Like I said, word on the street is he has lots of secrets.”
“I don’t suppose you can give me any more details?”
She patted her wig in place. “I’ll ask around. Truth is, I’m pretty down ‘bout some personal stuff right now.”
“What’s going on?”
“Me and Larry broke up.”
“I’m sorry.”
Larry was a former wrestler, with a heart of gold. He and Mo had been together for over a year.
“He said he wants his freedom.” Her dark eyes held on me. “What is it ‘bout men wanting freedom? You’d think we held them prisoner.”
“I’m the last person you should be asking about men.” I reached over and squeezed her hand. “Even so, I’m here for you if I can help.”
She brushed a tear. “I appreciate that. You know that you and baby sis are like family to me.” Her lungs inflated, fell. “Speaking of family, you hear anything ‘bout Lindsay?”
Lindsay was my half-sister; someone I didn’t know existed until I began looking into the death of my adoptive father. She’d saved my life by killing Ryan Cooper, her father, who had been stalking me after I’d learned that he’d murdered my dad and Judy Crawford, my bio-mom. Lindsay had, of her own volition, gone undercover to try and take down a terrorist group known as the Swarm. She’d been successful in helping the FBI eliminate one of the group’s leaders and had recently been placed in a witness protection program.
“All I know is that Joe Dawson said she has a new identity and has already settled into her new life.” I felt my emotions surfacing. “I’m worried that I’ll never see her again.”
“Maybe when the last of the Swarm is eliminated, you can get together with her again.”
“Maybe.” I took a moment to regain control. “You hear anything on the streets about Harlee Ryland?”
She shook her big head. “Far as I know, she’s holed up with them Tauists somewhere, probably planning something big. Let’s just hope she stays away from you.”
I again felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. “It’s been a long day. I’d better call it a night.”
“Don’t forget, we’re supposed to see Nana’s big makeover reveal tomorrow night. Maybe if there’s time afterward, we can all get a drink and talk to baby sis ‘bout taking things slow with Tex.”
I chuckled as I rose. “Maybe we can use his Twerk on her.”
We heard Natalie calling out from the bedroom, saying something about making the magic happen.
“Lordy,” Mo said. “If I have to listen to those two all night, I might take that magic wand and turn ‘em into a couple of hamsters.”
After I took Bernie for a short walk, I had a bite to eat and got ready for bed. I was just getting under the covers when I got a call from Joe Dawson.
“Just checking to see if you got that star on the Walk of Fame yet,” Joe said.
I laughed. “The last I heard, they’re not giving out stars for finding killers. How are things with you?”
“Working a case in south Texas, but should wrap things up by the end of the week. I could stop by your neck of the woods, if you’re available.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got plans. I’m meeting a friend for lunch in Ojai.”
“Ohio?”
“Ojai. It’s a small town in the foothills a couple hours from Hollywood.”
There was a long silence before he responded. “Okay, maybe another time.”
I was grateful when he didn’t ask who I was meeting.
“Anything new with your family situation?” he asked.
I decided not to go into details. “Still looking for Pearl, not much else is new.” I then asked him what had been on my mind for several days. “Lindsay. Have you heard anything?”
“It’s against the rules.”
“Sorry for asking.”
He chuckled. “You forgot, I’m a rule breaker. Just between us, I heard she’s living outside of Seattle and is working for a newspaper.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think she’s an assistant to a reporter, or maybe just a secretary, but I heard she’s making a good adjustment.”
“I appreciate you letting me know.”
He went on for a few minutes, suggesting that we get together in the next couple weeks. I was noncommittal, but tried to be upbeat about his offer. We agreed to talk in the next week and ended the call.
As I lay in bed, my thoughts were fixed on my sister. In the short time we’d known one another, we had become close, sharing a lot of personal details about our lives. Lindsay had been molested by her father and was still suffering from that trauma. The awareness that we’d both been scarred because of what happened to us as children hit home again. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if I’d ever see her again, or if either of us would ever heal.
TEN
“So, you’re telling me the husband and two remaining stepchildren were all murdered and we didn’t see a thing,” Monica Linville said to Jack Ramsey. The director of security for Agrasom was in her forties. Her black hair was cut short and she was thin, thanks to a regular running regimen. Her dark eyes had seen their share of violence, both on the job and after two tours in the Middle East a decade earlier. “How is it possible we missed everything?”
“We can only assume that it went down like the murder of the first child three years ago,” Ramsey said. Her assistant was six feet tall, with a solid build. His short dark hair was fading to gray on the sides, the only foreshadow of approaching middle age. “Miller must have found a way to interfere with the cameras and our monitoring of the family’s cell phones. Everything was blacked out during the killings.”
Linville considered what he’d said and the blackmail sc
heme their former director of information technology was perpetrating on the agribusiness. “We should have paid him the twenty million, like he demanded.”
“He got five million after the first murder. You’d think that would have been enough.”
“Maybe he’s working with someone else, given the degree of sophistication involved. It could even be someone who knows about our surveillance of Laura Bratton.”
“There are any number of governments and private individuals with the means.”
“What Bratton knows—do we think it’s been compromised in any way?”
“Unlikely. There’s no indication that she was contacted after the first murder or prior to the current killings. The message Miller sent was intended to continue to buy her silence and score a big payday for him.”
“Maybe she told her husband about her past, and that’s why he was killed.”
“There was nothing in the surveillance that indicates that, but we can’t rule in out. There’s also the issue of him leading a double life.”
Linville looked out her window toward the Potomac and the glistening lights of the city beyond. The corporate offices for Agrasom were located close to Washington for a reason. Their lobbyists had direct access to Congress, twenty-four seven. The long term influence they had bought had been invaluable to the company’s success.
“We both know there’s a reason Bratton hasn’t been eliminated,” Linville said, turning back to Ramsey. “Her secrets have been her protection. A protection that hasn’t extended to the family. Miller’s sending us a message that he’s willing to kill her and expose everything if we don’t pay up again.” She exhaled, picked up a batch of papers and dropped them back on the desk. “My reports indicate she tried to commit suicide.”
“We think it was an emotional reaction to events. We’re monitoring her phone again. There’s nothing indicating she’s been in contact with anyone except family and friends, and is genuinely distraught over the events.”
