Twisted and Tied

by Mary Calmes

  I shrugged. “And you know, even if he reads it on some secure email, he won’t believe any other report but mine.”

  “That’s true.” His smile was really beautiful. “I—you’re being very kind to me.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? We’re two of a kind, aren’t we?”

  He nodded.

  “We both know Hartley well.”

  “Yes,” Kelson agreed, sounding hopeful.

  “There’s not too many of us.”

  He leaned forward.

  “I mean, how many more of us could there be?”

  “You might be surprised.”

  “Would I?” I asked as though unconvinced, digging gently, not wanting him to notice me trying to excavate the truth.

  He nodded, hands on the table, doing the same thing Hartley used to when I visited him in jail, straining to get closer.

  “Hartley can’t have that many acolytes.”

  “Not like us,” he advised me, lumping us together. “But he has more friends in the Bureau. He’s very seductive.”

  Gasps from all over the room.

  “Do you know who?”

  “Some, not all. I’m thinking that if I need some leverage down the road, pulling another name out of my hat will be a good thing.”

  “That’s smart,” I told him, nodding, then cleared my throat. “Did you kill those guys, or did you have someone else do it?”

  He looked surprised, shocked, but even in such a short time, from this morning to now, I was getting a feel for him, and the camaraderie I had going worked for him just as it had, in a way, on Hartley.

  “Come on,” I prodded. “I’m thinking you had help.”

  He smiled slowly, the façade of disbelief stripped from his features as he smirked. “I did have help. I have guys on my payroll, just like he does.”

  I nodded. “Nice.”

  “He thinks I’m so helpless, but I’m not.”

  “No, you’re definitely not.”

  Kelson puffed up, pleased with himself and me. “How did you know?”

  “That it wasn’t Hartley?”

  His eyes were sparkling with excitement as he nodded.

  I smiled at him, tipping my head. “It’s not really him, right? The whole heart-in-hands thing is much more poetic. It was truly artistic.”

  “It was, wasn’t it,” he sighed happily. “He was right about you, Marshal. You do see things so very clearly.”

  “I try,” I said, moving my hand, reaching for his.

  He grabbed me quickly, and Ian shifted beside me, hand on my thigh under the table, gripping hard, nervous suddenly, not liking what I was doing.

  Kelson clutched at my hand, covering our joined ones with his other as he searched my face. “This is the scary part now.”

  “I know,” I soothed. “You did all that to create a diversion, right? You know your team has to run those guys down, see where they were, find out the stories, and while they’re doing that, then you had time to do something else.”

  “Yes.”

  “It was a diversion,” I said confidently.

  “How did you know?”

  There was a collective breath held in the room, and I could hear it and feel it even without the benefit of turning to look.

  “What did you do?”

  “Not me.”

  “No,” I agreed, “because you were here with us. But you put something in play, had your men moving around the chessboard at your direction.”

  The honey-colored eyes got big and wide, and his mouth dropped open. “You are very good at this, Marshal.”

  “I’ve had lots of practice.”

  “Yes. He said you play the game well.”

  “But this isn’t his game. It’s yours.”

  Quick flashing smile as he squeezed my hand in his. “Yes.”

  “And you’re sick of someone.”

  “I am.”

  “Someone you hate?”

  He nodded.

  “Who’s been bugging you?” I said, looking up at Ryerson. “A thorn in your side.”

  Kelson gasped. “Oh my God, how did you know it was Ryerson?”

  “You report to him, and you hate it.”

  “I do.”

  “Because you’re so much smarter than him.”

  He nodded hard. “I am.”

  “But he’s been there in your way this whole time.”

  “He certainly has.”

  I thought a moment, reached out to pat his hand, and then slipped from his grasp, leaning back to study him. “You lied about the names. There’s no more guys in the Bureau reporting to Hartley. You would never let that happen.”

  Kelson clapped his hands. “Oh my God, Marshal, you are brilliant.”

  “You’re not playing the long game for a reduced sentence; this is a short one because you want the hell out of here.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Exactly.”

  “You want to be with Hartley, but you had to do something to prove your loyalty, and in the process, also punish your boss, show him up for being stupid. Show everyone what went on right under his nose.”

  His eyes were glazed over; he looked drunk. “Yes. All of that.”

  “So you did what he couldn’t,” I went on, feeling Ian slide his hand off my leg as he pressed his shoulder against mine. He needed the closeness, and so did I. Just watching Kelson happily go insane in front of me was frightening. How people so lost themselves in jealousy and hatred, or in his case, madness, was ultimately so very sad. “With your men, with Hartley’s contacts, you got three of the most wanted and killed them.”

  Kelson beamed at me.

  “You showed up your boss, impressed Hartley, and used the diversion from this morning to do what?” I asked solemnly. “What was your plan this morning?”

  “Punishment,” he said robotically.

  “Punish who? Your boss?”

  He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. It clicked in my head, and I turned to look at Ryerson, who was sitting there shell-shocked after all he’d heard in the last five minutes. It had to be hard to find out a colleague, someone you saw every day, harbored such anger, such hatred for you.

  “Sir,” I said softly, “where is your family?”

  He blanched.

  Ian was out of his chair, heading for the door. Kage grabbed Ryerson’s arm and hauled him after Ian. The room emptied in a blur, and Rodriguez and Brodie went as well, which surprised me, but they were new.

  I knew why Ian and Becker and Kage had left. It was their job, and there was coordinating to do. Everyone else, they were just scrambling, and it left me and Kelson alone.

  “Who did you take?”

  “His wife,” he answered.

  “Why would you take her?” I asked, aware that we were alone but not afraid even for a moment. Kelson could hurt me if he had a gun or if he surprised me. Since neither was an option, I was good.

  “Because he took women.”

  He meant Hartley. “But he seduced them. Is that what you did?”

  Suddenly he could not hold my gaze.

  “We both know you didn’t,” I baited him. “You don’t have his charm.”

  “How do you know?” Kelson spat, the anger flaring fast.

  “Because you’re not using any on me,” I advised, staring holes through him.

  Hartley never missed an opportunity to try to seduce me—not sexually, never that, but instead to his side, to stand with him, to go with him, to be his man. I had no doubt that, even more than Hartley wanted to hurt me, he wanted me to simply be his to call. At the same time, the second I gave in, he’d value me less for being weak enough to be spellbound.

  It was a fine line. How many people enjoyed the hunt, the chase, but lost interest once their quarry gave in? How many people liked the bad boys or girls, the ones who didn’t care, but as soon as they had an epiphany and fell in love, suddenly they seemed weak and unappealing? For Hartley, people were like that. The second they gave in to him, he was done with t
hem, which was when he changed them from women into art. He’d told me once that in death, he restored their beauty and grace, and even though he still showed what they had done, what kind of people they truly were, he still made them more than they were. The fact that I had never been bespelled by him did more to ensure my survival than anything else.

  “You think I couldn’t have had you?” Kelson dared me.

  “That’s exactly what I think.”

  “And Hartley could?”

  “I’ve never known Hartley to use his charm on men,” I pointed out. “Have you?”

  He shook his head. “But he’s not so good either.”

  “In what way?”

  “I—the women he took were all whores. How hard could that be?”

  And now the jealousy. So while he wanted to be in Hartley’s inner circle, he also hated him a bit. I could hear it underlying his words. “None of the women that Hartley killed were prostitutes, so I don’t—”

  “They all cheated on their husbands!”

  Ah. “That’s true,” I agreed. “But that doesn’t make them whores.”

  “I think it does, and some would say they had it coming.”

  “I think you deserve a divorce for cheating, not death,” I said flatly, scowling. Like murderers got to make judgment calls on others.

  “Perhaps.”

  I took a breath, and he put his arms on the table and rested his chin on his fists.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m really sorry I tried to hurt you this morning. I apologize.” Kelson appeared contrite.

  “Apology accepted.”

  “He’s right, you know. You’re very easy to talk to.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kelson smiled.

  WE TALKED for a long time, a couple of hours, and then I led Kelson to the door. When I opened it, Eli was there.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked, pleased to see him.

  He shrugged. “The day’s pretty much over, so I thought I’d check on you.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. I’m driving out to Elgin because I don’t want him to hurt himself, and the Feds will just leave him here all night.”

  “I won’t hurt myself,” Kelson promised.

  “Things change,” I pointed out.

  “True,” he agreed.

  “Let’s go to Elgin,” Eli said, chuckling. “I’ll drive.”

  Leaving Sharpe and White manning the main desk, Eli and I took Kelson down the elevator and put him in one of the Chevy Suburbans we’d taken out this morning.

  According to any GPS or any online directions, the trip from the office downtown out to Elgin Mental Health Center by way of I-90 West should have taken forty-five minutes. I had never gotten there in less than an hour. Since we were thick in the middle of rush-hour traffic, I was sure it would take at least two hours one way.

  Halfway there, Kage called, and I put him on speaker.

  “Jones.”

  “Sir.”

  “Where are you?”

  “On my way to Elgin with Kelson, sir.”

  And because Kage was a very smart man, he knew why. Whether he thought so, Kelson was a suicide risk. Anyone totally brainwashed by a serial killer could easily decide on a whim to kill themselves, or remember they’d been told to do so after speaking for a certain amount of time, or God knew what else. There were a hundred scenarios, but basically the result was Kelson had to be watched, and in one of the cells in the marshals’ office or with the FBI, he would not get the observation he needed. Had it been earlier in the day, someone else would have transferred him to Elgin. But I knew the drill; I’d had dealings with more than one psychotic felon in my life. Hartley was the worst, but there were enough others for me to know what I was doing.

  “Just you, Jones?”

  “No, sir,” Eli spoke up. “I’m here.”

  Deep breath. “Okay.”

  “The Bureau can deal with this tomorrow. I just want him dropped off tonight,” I explained. “It was the only thing to do.”

  “Agreed.”

  I didn’t want to ask. “Sir? Ryerson’s family?”

  “His wife is in stable condition in the hospital.”

  He didn’t say where. It wasn’t for Kelson to know.

  “Does he have kids?”

  “He does. They’re all accounted for.”

  That was good. “And Hartley?”

  “No sign of him beyond his fingerprints and DNA.”

  I wasn’t going to ask where his DNA was.

  “Ryerson is very thankful,” Kage said. “He wants you to work for him.”

  “I work for you, sir,” I told him. “I’ll send you a notification when Kelson’s dropped off.”

  “Good,” he said and was gone.

  “That man has terrible communication skills,” Kelson said, shaking his head as he sat beside me.

  “I would agree with that,” Eli replied from the front seat.

  I EXPLAINED to the doctor in charge at Elgin that I thought Kelson would be the model prisoner if he didn’t try to swallow his tongue. The last thing I heard him asking the doctor, as two orderlies walked him slowly inside, was if he could stay in Hartley’s old room.

  “He really likes you,” Eli said once we were outside.

  “All the crazy ones like me,” I agreed, walking over to the grass next to the Suburban and losing everything in my stomach.

  “I’m thinking it’s lucky tomorrow’s Friday.”

  I nodded as he passed me a bottle of water. My phone started ringing, and Eli answered because I wasn’t sure if I needed to dry heave.

  “Yeah, he’s good. We’re out at Elgin. Where are you?” He listened for a moment. “We’re heading back now. I’ll drop him off at—oh, okay. Thanks.”

  “Who was that?” I asked as I got into the passenger-side seat.

  “Ian. He’s got to meet with the Feds about some operation for Monday that Adair put him in charge of that Kage just signed off on.”

  “Adair put him in charge?”

  Eli shrugged as he started the SUV. “Apparently watching Ian all day made him think he could handle it.”

  “How big an operation?”

  “Six-agency big.”

  “Gang task force?”

  “It sounds like a Homeland thing. They’re looking for guns and explosives. ATF is in there as well.”

  “And Ian’s spearheading the whole thing?” That was a lot to take the lead on for a guy brand-new in his position.

  “Sounds like it.”

  Impressive after one day, but it made sense since it was Ian, after all. People looked at him and simply knew he could handle whatever was put on his plate.

  “Maybe that’s what Kage was doing, huh?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as he drove us out of the parking lot and out onto the street.

  “Maybe Kage wants Ian to discover that diplomacy can be just as life-and-death as breaching a building with an automatic rifle in your hand.”

  I turned to look at him.

  “What?”

  “And me?”

  “And you what?”

  “What does Kage want me to learn?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not about you learning anything. It’s about you finally using your skills where they’ll do the most good.”

  “Explain.”

  “It’s the kids, Miro,” he said softly, kindly, smiling at me. “You’re so good with them, and you care so much.”

  “What’re you—”

  “We all tease you about Cabot and Drake and that new kid, uhm….”

  “Josue.”

  “Yeah, him. We all tease you, but that’s who you are. You care. You go outta your way to make sure that kids are safe, and even their pets.”

  “I—”

  “Remember that family that got moved last year, but their cat was at the vet, and they couldn’t wait?”

  The Parkinsons. Of course I remembered.

  “So
once the cat was cleared to travel by the vet, you flew the cat out to Palm Springs and delivered it to their door because it wasn’t fair that they had to leave a member of their family.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “It was a cat, Miro.”

  I glared at him. “Clearly you’ve never had a pet.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re a fuckin’ bleeding heart, and how no one checked that on your way to becoming a marshal, I have no idea, but I seriously can’t think of anyone better than you to take care of all the kids in Custodial.”

  “So you think Kage—”

  “Picked the best guy for the job,” he assured me with a smack on the arm. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Thanks, Eli,” I said, choking up a bit because so far it had been a hell of a day.

  “You’re gonna do great.”

  I sighed. “I wish Ian felt the same. I think he’s worried I’m gonna get hurt.”

  “Oh well, yeah, you’re gonna get hurt,” Eli said, shooting me a look like of course. “You’re in the most heartbreaking job we got at the marshals service. There’s no way you’re not getting your heart diced up regularly from now on, but—that’s only one side of it, right? You can’t just dwell on the bad part. Who does that?”

  Ian, apparently. “Right,” I sighed, really loving him at that moment. “You have to think about the whole picture, and if you do that, I’m gonna be all right.”

  “Without a doubt,” he agreed. “I mean, have you ever known Kage to be wrong?”

  And I thought about that for the first time that day, just about him, about my boss and how his mind worked.

  “Sometimes instead of being all twisted up about something, you just gotta have a little faith.”

  “Tell Ian, will ya?”

  “I’ll put it on my list.”

  IT WAS after nine by the time we made it back to the Greystone in Lincoln Park, and everyone was home, of course, so we ended up having to park a block away. We had assigned parking, but Ian had parked the truck in our spot earlier.

  “I am suddenly dead-ass tired,” I said.

  “It’s been a weird day,” Eli agreed.

  “Did your cousin go home?”

  “You just thought about him now?”

  “Yeah,” I told him, not sorry even a bit.

  “Yes, he went home. I took him before work. That’s why I was a few minutes late.”