Smoke Rising

by Craig Halloran

  “I borrowed one of those agents’ phones. The one who got a piece of taser.” He held it out. “He can have it back now.”

  She snatched it from his hand and slipped it in her bag. “Who did you call?”

  “My crew.”

  “And they remotely disarmed the ankle tracker?”

  “Sure. Not a problem. And this model isn’t one of the best ones. As soon as I gave them a model number, they laughed. So, they looped the signal and I unsnapped it. Easy peasy.”

  “Are you testing me, Mister Smoke?”

  “I’m just knocking some dust off, Agent Shaw. We’re going up against something big, and I need to be sharp.” He tossed the towel aside and came closer. “I could have just vanished, you know.”

  “True, but then I wouldn’t buy you any pancakes.”

  ***

  “Mmm,” Smoke said. “That’s good.” He stuffed in another forkful of buttermilk pancakes slathered in syrup. He was half through his second stack. “You really should try some.”

  “No thanks,” Sidney said again. She took a sip of coffee. She hadn’t been inside an IHOP since she was a teenager. “I’m fine.”

  Smoke shrugged and stuffed in another mouthful. Over the past hour he’d proven himself to be the most elusive garbage disposal she’d ever known. He was a bit of a chatterbox too, asking her bizarre question after question that she ignored and dodged until they arrived at their high-carb destination.

  She checked messages on her phone. Text. Email. Her niece, Megan, had dropped her a quick text that said ‘Hi’ with a smile and a unicorn. It had been a while since she heard from her. Her sister, Allison, had issues.

  “What’s the matter?” Smoke said, gulping down his second Coke and motioning for the waitress.

  “Nothing.” She set down her phone. “Tell me about this crew of yours.”

  A waitress took away his glass. “I’ll be right back, Hun.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Sure, my crew. Right. Well, not much to tell. Just two friends that help me track things down. They work the inside, and I work the outside.”

  “Do they have names?”

  “Fat Sam and Guppy.”

  “And this Fat Sam and Guppy are the ones that helped you hack into FBI property.”

  He nodded and shoved more pancake in his mouth. “Mmm! I swear, this makes me feel like I haven’t eaten in months. Prison food has no flavor to it. And we never get pancakes or waffles, either. Which do you prefer?”

  “Neither.” She straightened herself in her seat. “Are you about finished?”

  “Huh? Well, no. This is a carb load. The protein load comes next.” He eyed her and her plate of half-eaten bacon. “You look like someone who knows something about that.”

  “Are your friends criminals?”

  Smoke sat up and leered down. “No. Why would you say that?”

  “I need to know what I’m dealing with. ‘Fat Sam and Guppy’ doesn’t tell me much of anything.” She took another sip of coffee. “You have to admit, it sounds shady.”

  “‘Fat Sam and Guppy’ sounds shady to you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He shook his head. “Well, they say perception is everything.”

  The waitress returned with his third Coke. “Anything else, hun?”

  Smoke looked at Sidney.

  She glanced at the windows. The rain was pouring down, and the chill in her bones had finally faded. She gave him a nod.

  Smoke held up the menu and pointed.

  “I want this and this.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I’ll let you know when I’m through.”

  The waitress brushed by him. “You do that.”

  “Sure,” Sidney said. “You do that. So, you were talking about Sam and Guppy?”

  “No, you were talking about them.” He took a drink. “Listen, they are legit. No record.”

  “Which implies they haven’t been caught.”

  “Sort of, Agent Shaw … or Sidney … or Sid—can I call you that?”

  “Let’s keep it professional.”

  “Ugh … Agent Shaw, how suspicious are you of this hunt? I mean, think about it. They don’t want you in the office. That limits resources. Instead, they want you to tail me as I go on a hunt. And you said yourself they weren’t following protocol. Doesn’t that worry you?”

  “A little, maybe.”

  “Good. You’re honest. Frankly I’m a bit worried too. Not in a scared way, but in a ‘I’m pretty sure I’m being manipulated’ kind of way.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “It’s the Black Slate. Bad people are on that list, and I like the idea of putting them away. Say, mind if I take a look at that file now?”

  “Can you handle it while you’re eating?”

  “I’m a multitasker,” he said, taking another big bite of pancakes.

  She opened her bag and handed over the file. Smoke rummaged through it, his dark eyes scanning the contents. He was an attractive man. Boyish, yet dark. She noted white scar lines on his hands. A broken finger that hadn’t healed well.

  “He’s a swarthy-looking Spaniard.”

  “Why do you say he’s a Spaniard?”

  Smoke shrugged. “He has some interesting haunts, too. Ew, look at all these dead guys. That’s not good. Why did you show me this while I was eating?” He stuffed the papers inside the envelope. “I’m going to need a copy of this.”

  “It’s confidential.”

  “Really?” He laughed. “I don’t think there is such a thing these days.”

  The waitress returned and set down two steaming omelets surrounded by hash browns, all on one plate.

  “Aw, you put them on one plate. That was really sweet of you. Thanks, sugar.”

  The waitress pinched his cheek. “If you weren’t my son’s age, I’d take you home with me.” She looked at Sidney. “You found yourself a good one here. Big eater. I like a man that lets you feed him.”

  “Uh, we’re not …” Sidney started, but the waitress moved on.

  “Are you a good cook?” Smoke said, sharpening his knife with his fork.

  “I can make an omelet.”

  “Well that’s better than the last girl I dated.”

  “This isn’t a date.”

  “Easy, I’m just making conversation.”

  “Let’s stay on point, Mister Smoke.”

  “You see, there you go again. Just call me Smoke.”

  She held her tongue. She wanted to call him something else, but didn’t.

  “Agent Shaw, let me tell you how I expect things to go. I need information and a couple of days. I want to go to my place. Sort through some things. When I’m ready to move, I’ll let you know and … we go.”

  “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to go back to the house and plan things out. We only have two weeks to resolve this.”

  He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Ugh. This is why I work alone.”

  “And you’d still be working alone if you hadn’t gotten carried away with your last job.”

  “Just two days, that’s all I ask. You take some time and I take some time. After that, I’ll fill you in and be more willing to cooperate. Please.”

  The letter did say to turn him loose, but she wanted to hang on. That was her nature. Her training. This scenario was the complete opposite of everything she’d been taught. It irked her.

  “You can take the ankle tracker off. That’s the biggest problem. Why did you show your cards on that one?”

  “Perhaps I was showing off a little.”

  “Here’s the deal. You stay in the house. I drop you off. I pick you up. If I show up and the ankle tracker is there but you aren’t, it’s over.”

  “I’ll keep it on if you insist, but take a moment. Don’t you see the problem this ankle tracker presents? It’s a distraction for us, nothing more. It doesn’t benefit either of us. It only benefits them.”

  “Them?”

  “You know,”
he said, eyeballing around. “Them.”

  I actually understand his point. “I tell you what, Mister Smoke. You finish your meal, we go back to the house, lay out a plan, and we’ll see how it goes. Easy peasy?”

  He dug into his omelet. “Good enough for me.”

  Her phone buzzed. It was another text from her niece, Megan. Her heart stopped. The text read:

  Sorry to bother you, but I haven’t seen Mommy in three days. I’m scared. A frowning icon followed.

  CHAPTER 10

  “What’s going on?” Smoke said.

  Sidney pulled the sedan into the driveway of the house, put it in park, and looked at him.

  “Here’s the deal. You go inside. You don’t leave.”

  “Come on,” he said. “You’ve been frosty the entire ride. What’s going on? I can help.”

  “Get your bag. Get out of the car. Get inside the house.”

  Nodding and raising his hands in surrender, Smoke reached into the back seat and grabbed his duffle bag. He popped the door open to the sound of pouring rain outside. “Let me come.”

  “I’ll be back tonight. Just go.”

  Smoke stepped into the rain, shut the door, and dashed onto the covered porch.

  Sidney didn’t wait to see if he went inside. She hit the gas, squealed out of the driveway, and blasted the car through the rain.

  “Dammit!”

  She was torn. On the one hand, she hated to let Smoke out of her sight. On the other, she didn’t want him in her personal business.

  It took her an hour and a half to get to her sister’s apartment, talking to Megan the entire ride. The nine-year-old was tough, but scared. Sidney wheeled into the apartment complex, which consisted of twenty three-story brick buildings, a pool, tennis courts, and a gym—all of which were long past their glory days.

  She parked, headed up the grass to the screened patio of her sister’s porch, and knocked on the metal frame of the screen door.

  “Megan? It’s me, Aunt Sid.”

  A cute little face peeked through the blinds, and its watery eyes brightened. Megan unlocked the door, flung it open, ran outside, and hugged Sidney.

  Sidney picked her up and carried her inside.

  “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”

  Using her foot, she closed the door behind her and sat down on the couch with Megan latched onto her. Sidney’s heart burst in her chest.

  Allison had better not be using again.

  “All right, Megan, all right. You’re safe. I’m here.” She pushed Megan back and wiped the tears from her eyes. The little girl’s long brown hair was braided back in a ponytail. Her face was sweet and innocent with freckles on her nose. “I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I-I was doing fine. I even made it to school the last two days, but the storm scared me. I thought Mommy would be home by now, but she isn’t. Do you think she’s mad at me?”

  “No, no, no, of course not.” Sidney took a breath. Megan was a capable little girl. She’d learned how to take care of herself when she was little. An independent little thing. “She probably got lost again.”

  “Will you find her, Aunt Sid?”

  “I will.” She hugged her niece again. “I will.”

  Her sister, Allison, was younger. She was a runaway. An addict. A mess. Sidney could never make heads or tails of her problems, but she always tried to protect her. No matter what, Allison stayed in trouble. It was heartbreaking and infuriating.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No,” Megan said, “I had some cereal.”

  “Do you want to go stay with Nanny and Grandpa?”

  “Can’t you just stay here with me?” Megan looked at her with sad eyes. “Until Mommy comes back?”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I have to call Nanny and Grandpa first.”

  Megan shrugged. She looked adorable. Little blue jeans. A flowery pink-and-purple shirt. “They’ll do.”

  ***

  Sidney didn’t stick around after her mother arrived. Keeping the reunion short, she hit the road and headed to Allison’s ex-boyfriend’s … Dave was his name. According to Megan, he’d been coming around and staying over from time to time. The last time she’d seen Dave and Megan together, it hadn’t ended well.

  If she’s with him, I might kill both of them.

  She drove the car into another neighborhood a little better than the one where she’d left Smoke. The sidewalks and driveways made up the edges of well-kept lawns. Leaves were in piles and bagged at the end of the drives. She pulled along the sidewalk across the street from Dave’s house, 104 Dickers Street. The windows were barred. The screen door was a wrought-iron security door. The garage door was closed.

  Somebody’s made some changes since the last time I was here.

  She checked her phone. Smoke’s beacon remained in place.

  He’d better be there.

  The blinds were shut, but light peeked out at the corners. She waited. Dave was a dealer. A clever one. He moved small quantities to subsidize his government assistance. He hadn’t worked in years—or ever, for all she knew. She waited another hour. Cars splashed by. Water poured into the grates. It was 2:15 p.m. when she looked again. She needed to get back to Smoke. She needed to find her sister.

  I need to put an ankle tracker on her!

  She drummed her fingernails on the steering wheel. Chewed on her lip.

  Aw, screw it.

  She popped the trunk, opened her door, and stepped out into the rain. From the trunk she grabbed an umbrella and opened it up. A car rolled by, splashed her legs, and pulled into Dave’s driveway. She noted the plate.

  A couple of young men in hoodies jumped out of the car and rushed onto the stoop. One started pounding on the door. The other was yelling.

  “Hurry up! It’s cold as hell out here!”

  The door opened. Sidney hid behind the umbrella until she heard the door close, then made her way across the street and waited beside the front door on the stoop, craning her neck toward the window. The voices were muffled, and the driving rain splattering all around drowned out the details. She closed the umbrella, shook it off, and waited. Ten minutes later, the door opened. She stepped back and whipped out her badge.

  The dilated eyes of the young men lifted toward her.

  Sidney held her badge up and said quietly, “Disappear.”

  The two scurried through the rain without a glance backward.

  Sidney caught the door with her umbrella and slipped inside.

  “Shut the door, you idiots!” a voice said. Dave appeared in the foyer. His eyes widened. He dropped his can of beer. “Aw shit! How’d you get in here?”

  Sidney closed the door behind her and locked it.

  “Hey, hey,” Dave said, holding his hands up and backing away into the living room. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Sure you didn’t, Dave. Sure.”

  Dave wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He had a mop of brown hair and strong features. A scruffy beard. The plaid pajama pants and Bob Marley T-shirt did little to enhance his demeanor. His eyes were weak and yellow, and he smelled like reefer.

  “You can’t be in here,” he said. “It’s illegal.”

  “Where is Allison, Dave?”

  His eyes flitted around the room. A bong sat on the coffee table in front of a new plush sectional sofa. A video game was playing on a seventy-inch flat-screen TV.

  “I haven’t seen her.”

  “Do you remember what happened the last time you lied to me about her?”

  Grimacing, he rubbed the white scar on his forehead.

  “Yes.”

  Sidney got closer and bounced the handle of the umbrella on his shoulder.

  “Don’t make me use this.”

  “What are you going to do with an umbrella?” He laughed. “Let me guess. Stick it where the sun don’t shine and open it?”

  “Aw, that’s my darling Dave. Smart-ass dope head and everything.” She stepped on his toe. “You know w
hat, Dave? I really like your idea.”

  “You would, seeing how you don’t have any of your own.” He tugged his foot out. “And as I recall, you got into quite a bit of trouble the last time you barged in here, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, you gonna call your uncle again, the congressman?”

  “Yep.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, tapping the umbrella on his shoulder. “I think he’s in danger of losing this next election. Yes, I’m pretty sure he’s done for.”

  “No he isn’t. He’s up in the polls.”

  She smiled.

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  She brought the umbrella handle down between his eyes.

  Crack!

  “Ow! You bitch!”

  Crack!

  “Ugh! Stop it!”

  “Stop it what?”

  “Sid!”

  Crack!

  “Agent Shaw! Okay? Agent Shaw!”

  “Dave, this is the last time that I ask. Where is she?”

  He swallowed hard and looked away.

  Sidney made it over to the coffee table, picked up the bong, and started to pour the water out on his new couch.

  “Be nice, now. I didn’t do this. I swear it’s not my fault.”

  “Where IS she?”

  “I-I…”

  Sidney dropped some more water on the sofa.

  “Aw …” Dave moaned.

  “If you like, Dave, I’ll be more than happy to confiscate your inventory.”

  “Not without a warrant.”

  She poured out the bong and dropped it on the couch.

  “Dammit, that’s new!”

  She took out her phone.

  “I’m out of patience. One call, and a swarm of local law enforcement will be here.”

  “You wouldn’t dare. Not after the last time.”

  She started to dial.

  Dave turned tail and ran up the steps.

  “Allison! Allison! Run!”

  Sidney surged up the stairs and stormed down the hallway just as Dave jetted into a bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

  Sidney pounded on the door.

  “Open up! I’m not playing any games! Get out of there, Allison!”

  “Screw you, Agent Shaw!” Dave yelled.

  She kicked the door in.

  Dave stood inside an unkempt bedroom with the window wide open. One leg hung outside the sill.