by L. K. Hill
He promised to call again in a few days. Kyra thanked him and hung up the phone. She'd turned to explain to a worried-looking Gabe that she wouldn't know about Manny for perhaps another week, so she'd have to go back to Josie now, just in case.
If Kyra had slept for anything less than eight hours—and surely it couldn’t be more than two or three—Gabe would probably tell her to go back to sleep. He’d also said it shouldn’t take more than a few hours to secure the hotel room and set up security. Kyra desperately wanted a shower and a change of clothes.
Pushing herself to her feet, she hobbled to the window of Shaun’s office, willing the muscles of her legs to loosen. Gabe wasn’t at his desk. He’d be somewhere in the station. Cora and Tyke both sat at their computers, Cora studying her screen like a strange new life form and typing so fast Kyra could barely see her fingers. Tyke cradled the receiver of his desk phone between his ear and shoulder, looking perplexed.
Ah the life of a detective.
Plenty of other detectives, uniformed cops, and others she couldn’t identify walked past Shaun’s office or wove through the chaos of the bull pen, all with important tasks, no doubt. She wondered—
Kyra’s heart stopped beating for a full five seconds, then sped up, pounding in her chest and temples like a battle drum. She gasped, and drew back from the window in horror.
A tall man with dark, close cut hair, wearing a tweed blazer, complete with suede disks at the elbows, walked past the window. He carried several file folders in his arms, on top of which lay a notebook he scribbled on as he walked.
Was she still asleep? Having a nightmare? Why the hell was Chris in Gabe’s precinct?
Kyra hadn’t realized she'd backed up until she bumped into one of the chairs in front of Shaun’s desk. She was so shocked to see him there, she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t make her thoughts run in straight lines.
How…? What the hell…?
The door to Shaun’s office opened and the lights flicked on. Kyra’s nerves felt so raw, she yelped.
Cora appeared, frowning. Kyra had been so caught up in her panic, she didn’t see the other woman approaching the office.
“Kyra? Are you okay?”
Kyra didn’t answer. Instead, she focused on slowing her breathing. The panic made her chest feel constricted. Deep breathing didn’t help. This was the precinct. The precinct. Of all places, he shouldn't be here!
“I wanted to let you know,” Cora said, still frowning with concern at Kyra, “the safe room is ready….” Her tone became absent as she studied Kyra’s body language. “…whenever you want to go.”
Cora pursed her lips together, came the rest of the way into the office and shut the door firmly behind her. She crossed the room and took Kyra’s hands. “What is it? Did something happen? Kyra?”
Kyra couldn’t answer. She couldn't ask Cora the obvious questions. Her chest constricted tighter and tighter. The walls were closing in. “I have to get out of here.”
She turned to flee.
Cora grabbed her forearm and swung her back around. “What are you talking about? You can’t leave. We’re going to take you to the safe room.”
“What difference does it make?” Kyra spat, aware of the bitterness in her voice. “No one can protect me here. Least of all the cops.”
She vaguely registered Cora’s stricken look before bulling her way out of Shaun’s office, keeping her head down, and heading for building’s exit.
*******
Gabe tapped his thumb impatiently on the side of the fax machine as it printed out the pages of the report he needed at a slug's pace. There were still twelve more pages to come, which likely meant another six minutes of waiting.
“Gabe!”
The voice sounded like it came from the other side of the station, near his desk. It sounded like Cora. Grabbing the pages that had printed so far, Gabe stepped back to peer around a large pillar.
Cora stood at the other side of the building, facing the opposite direction. Maybe he’d imagined her calling his name. Then she did it again. “Gabe!” She turned in a circle as she called out.
She was looking for him. Why would she stand in the middle of the room yelling for him? A deep foreboding made his gut feel like cement. He stepped the rest of the way around the pillar and waved his arm until her eyes focused on him. Cora ran toward him, practically leaping over trash cans and around people as she did. Gabe met her half way.
“Kyra took off.”
“What do you mean she took off?”
“I went to tell her the hotel room was ready. She looked like she was having a panic attack, Gabe. She said no one could protect her, especially us. Then she bolted.”
Gabe shoved the fax pages into Cora’s hands and ran for the door. Bursting out of the station, he nearly pancaked two unies walking in. Their eyes widened in shock. It faded quickly to alertness as they surveyed first Gabe and then the area around the station’s entrance, looking for the threat that had him running.
Gabe ignored them, peering up and down the street. He didn't see Kyra anywhere.
He whirled back to them. “Did you see a woman walk out a minute ago? Dark blond hair, yea high,” he showed Kyra’s short statue with a hand. “Lots of bruises.”
One of the unies frowned. “I noticed a woman—might have been blond—walking that way when we pulled in.”
Gabe turned and jogged down the street in the direction the man indicated, praying the woman he’d seen was Kyra. He registered vague relief when he turned the corner and caught sight of her in the distance. She didn't run—good; if she truly wanted to hide from him, she’d be booking it into the Mire by now—but she walked strangely. Almost as though injured, though she wasn’t.
“Kyra!” She didn’t turn, though he called her name twice more before he reached her. When he did, grabbing her elbow and turning her around to face him, she looked genuinely surprised to see him standing there.
“What’s wrong?” he panted. “What’s going on?”
She glanced down and away. He realized why she’d walked strangely. It wasn’t so much a problem with her legs as with her lungs. Her breathing came raggedly, and it affected her gait.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
Despite the panting, she barked a laugh. “Come on, Gabe. Give me a little credit. If I feared my dreams, I wouldn't be doing any of this.”
He raised an eyebrow. The forcefulness of her reply surprised him. The one night she’d slept on his couch, he’d heard her whimpering in her sleep. He of all people understood how demons from the past could invade dreams.
“What then?”
She turned away again, as though reluctant to answer. She didn’t look stubborn, as she usually did when not wanting to answer him. Rather fear, sadness, and distress warred on her face. They weren’t emotions he usually saw from her. They tied his gut into knots.
She looked up, then past him, as though something came up behind him. Gabe turned to see that the two unies had followed him. They stood at the corner he’d come around, staring toward Gabe and Kyra with concern. Gabe raised a hand and affected a pleasant expression. One of them waved back and they disappeared toward the precinct.
Gabe took Kyra’s hand and stepped into a narrow space—not truly an alley—created between the two buildings they stood beside. Anyone walking by would see them right away, but the street wasn’t busy and it gave them a modicum of privacy. Once behind the building, Gabe stepped close to Kyra, taking her face in his hands. “Kyra,” he said softly. He tilted her head upward, forcing her to look into his face.
She kept her eyes down, on his chest, a moment before looking up at him. Tears pooled in her eyes.
“I can’t help unless you tell me what’s wrong.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, releasing the tears in tiny rivulets. Her shoulders slumped and all the energy seemed to drain out of her. “I know. I’m sorry. I felt…claustrophobic.” She stepped back from him, putting her hands on her hips and tur
ning her face toward the ground. She took several deep breaths.
Gabe waited.
When she raised her head again, she looked less pale than a moment before. “You know,” she said, still sounding somewhat breathless. “I can handle just about anything. Josie. The Mire. Even this damn killer. I may not know what will happen from one minute to the next, but I expect a certain element of danger, so it never surprises me. When something I don’t expect blindsides me like this…”
Gabe stepped toward her. “What blindsided you?”
Kyra nodded and folded her arms across her stomach. A protective gesture, but he didn’t try to stop her. He needed the information, and if she needed to put a barrier between them to give it, so be it.
“I saw a man inside the station.” She said it significantly, as though it should mean something to him.
“There’s forty guys in there, Kyra.”
“Tall, dark haired. Wearing a tweed jacket?”
Gabe frowned. “Uh…” As a detective, he'd been trained to notice details, but not so much with his coworkers' clothing. Most of them wore either suits or uniforms, and one looked much like another. “Do you know his name?”
“Chris—no. He said he was going by…” he waited while she ran a hand through her hair. “Bog—Blagden. Blagden?”
Gabe’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. “The IA guy? You know him?”
Kyra’s expression darkened, and Gabe’s intestines twisted more tightly.
“Is that what he told you?” she said quietly. “That he's IA?”
“He is,” Gabe said. “They’re grilling us about the warehouse in the Carmichael District. Why didn’t we know? How could it have gone on so long?" He waved his hand dismissively. "All that lovely bullshit. How do you know him?”
Kyra shook her head slowly. “He’s not IA, Gabe. He’s not a cop. He never was. Didn’t anyone look into his background when he showed up?”
Gabe gaped at her for moment, not sure how to answer. Her ominous tone put foreboding in his chest. He shook himself. “Of course we did,” then realized she probably meant something like a full criminal background check. “No, of course we didn’t. He has all the right credentials, Kyra. Shaun got a call informing us he was coming. And Shaun did check up on him. Nothing seemed odd. We had no reason to look beyond that. Accusing an IA official of corruption is asking for a shit storm of legal proceedings to rain down on you. Not to mention career suicide.”
As he spoke, Kyra looked more and more haunted. Resigned. She rubbed the bridge of her nose briefly with two fingers. “That’s why he chose it,” she said quietly. “He knew no one would ask questions.”
Gabe stepped closer to her again. “Who is he?”
Her face crumpled, her breathing becoming ragged again and tears leapt over her eyelids.
Gabe put his hands on her neck and rested his forehead against hers. “Kyra.”
She breathed deeply, visibly trying to take hold of herself. “Someone from the past,” she finally managed.
“Does this have to do with Manny?”
She shook her head. “No. He knew Manny, a little. He has nothing to do with Manny’s disappearance or me looking for him. Although,” she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “it’s no coincidence he’d show up here when I’m here. He’s here for me, Gabe. It terrifies me that he’s in your precinct, exercising authority over the detectives. He’s hurt cops before.”
Gabe felt faintly ill. He waited for Kyra to continue.
“He’s supposed to be in jail,” she murmured.
For the first time, Gabe wondered if she'd made a mistake. She’d had a trying few days, after all. “Kyra, don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t believe you.”
Her head came up instantly, an accusatory expression on her face. “But?”
“Are you sure it’s really this man you’re thinking of? You only slept a few hours. Could you be mistaken?”
Her jaw visibly clenched. The next words came out as though dragged through a meat grinder. “He…forced…his way into my hotel room two nights ago.”
Gabe’s stomach bottomed out. Anger replaced the fear in his chest and his teeth clenched on their own. “What?”
She refused to look at him.
“What did he do to you?”
She did look up then, surprise on her face. “Nothing. Not that.”
“Did he give you any of those bruises?”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, guilt playing across her features.
Gabe opened his mouth and she held up a hand. “A few. Most came from Josie, like I told you.” She shrugged. “Chris isn't…exactly gentle.”
Gabe sighed. “What does he want, Kyra?”
She shrugged. “He wants me to do something illegal for him. I told him to go to hell. He said he’d give me a few days to reconsider, or else.” She sighed. “I thought switching hotel rooms would stave him off a while, but if he’s fooled you into thinking he’s IA, he can find me anywhere, even the safe house. He did seem to know an awful lot about my search for Manny. I suppose it makes sense. He must have read my CI file.”
“No,” Gabe said firmly. “Just because he’s in the precinct doesn’t mean he’s seen it. Those files are under lock and key. Even other real cops don’t see them.”
“Gabe, he’s lied about who he is and faked his credentials. Do you think a locked filing cabinet will stop him?” She turned away from him, scrubbing her face with her hands and ran them back through her hair. She turned to face him again, now standing five feet away. “I should just disappear again.”
“No!” Panic reared its ugly head in Gabe's chest. She didn’t move to leave, but he crossed the space between them, grabbed her arm and pushed her against the side of the building, using his body to pin her there. She arched an eyebrow in surprise, but didn’t seem upset. Gabe moderated the level of his voice and leaned down so their faces nearly touched. “Don’t disappear on me, Kyra. Please.”
Distress flickered once again across her features. “After seeing him in there, where I was sleeping, I don’t want to go to the safe house, Gabe.”
“Detective Nichols?”
Gabe turned his head in time to see Morris come walking around the corner. Morris took one look at their intimate stance and his eyes widened. He turned as if to go back the way he’d come. “Uh…I…Cora asked me to come find you and escort Ms. Roberts to the hotel we’ve set up for her.”
Gabe shifted his gaze from Morris to Kyra, who looked self-conscious, then back to Morris. “Give us one more minute.”
“Of course. I’ll wait by my car.” Morris practically bolted back the way he’d come.
Gabe turned back to Kyra. “Go with Morris to the safe house.”
“Gabe—”
“Blagden isn’t coming for you today, Kyra. I’ll make sure he doesn’t. Go the hotel, shower, eat, sleep. I’ll look into this. Promise me you’ll stay there until I call you.”
“I have to go back into the Mire, remember?”
“I thought you weren’t going back in tonight anyway.”
She frowned. “I’m not. Tomorrow I have to.”
“This will take hours, not days, Kyra. If what you’ve said about Blagden is true—and I don’t doubt you—this must to be taken care of today. As soon as possible. I’ll call you when I know something. Promise me you’ll stay put at least until you hear from me.”
Kyra hesitated. To Gabe’s immense relief, she finally nodded. “Okay.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her shoulder. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”
She nodded against his chest, and when he pulled back, her eyes were wet again.
“What’s his name?” Gabe asked. “Blagden. What’s his real name?”
“Chris Dunnworthy. Do you have a pen?” He frowned but pulled one out of his shirt pocket. She took it and began writing numbers on his palm.
“Are you…giving me your phone number?”
The
ghost of a smile flickered across her face. “It’s his social security number. I’m sure there’s more than one Chris Dunnworthy in the world.”
“Do I want to know how you know his social security number?”
She shrugged. “It’s not a criminal thing. I knew him really well.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ll understand when you look him up.”
Something about the way she said it made him afraid. Gabe walked her back to the station parking lot, where Morris leaned against the side of his cruiser. When they drew close, he opened the back door for Kyra. She slid in without hesitation. Gabe pulled his wallet out and handed Morris a twenty. “Get her something to eat on the way, will you?”
“Sure thing, Boss.”
Gabe waited until the cruiser pulled out of the lot, Kyra gazing out at him through the back window, and disappeared before turning toward the station. Guarding the hand she’d written the number on, he stalked toward his desk.
Chapter 17
Shaun raised an eyebrow when he opened the door of his office and found Gabe working on the computer at his desk with the lights out. Gabe didn’t often use Shaun’s computer for anything. Why would he? He had one of his own. He simply hadn’t wanted to risk anyone else in the precinct looking over his shoulder at his computer. Especially Blagden—no, Dunnworthy—who wandered by the bullpen every hour or so.
“Gabe?” Shaun frowned, entering the room the rest of the way. “Everything okay?”
“No. It’s not,” Gabe said quietly.
Frowning, Shaun came to stand in front of his desk. He set a box full of files he'd carried in on one of the seats and crossed his boulder-like arms over his chest. “I’m listening.”
Gabe shook his head. “We’re going to need help. More than just the two of us.”
“Tyke and Cora?” Shaun asked.
Gabe nodded.
