Fractured Steel

by T. J. Loveless

“Listen, Karen, I’ll be out in a few more weeks, I want to see you. Is that okay? Can I see you?” He hesitated.

  “Of course! I’m in Denver for at least another couple of months. Have the LEOs been out to see you?”

  “Yeah, several visits, but Dad just sends them your way, saying it’s your fault.”

  “What? How the fuck is all this my fault?”

  “You don’t know?” Gage sounded genuinely surprised.

  “What am I missing here?” My mind reeled.

  “Not on the phone, not in public. Listen, um, I’ll call again later. Dad’s coming.”

  The line went dead. I stared at my phone, before realizing it wasn’t going to make him call me again. I set it down and lay back, adjusting the pillows. I called the stables boarding Five Alarm. My lawyer had the paperwork done, and the stallion was mine. Five had been lucky in the accident, a few broken ribs, one ear ripped off, and he’d lost an eye, but he survived the trailer toppling over and a hundred foot slide until a grove of pine trees stopped it. The vet felt maybe in a year or two he could show in reining again. No guarantees.

  The stable manager answered and we talked about his care. Five was doing well and creating chaos. I promised to call and find someone to take him home. Which was a lie, I didn’t want him far from me, flashing on his being stolen again. The contracts I had with Spade Farms meant I got not only Five Alarm, but any of his foals that may belong to the farm itself. Meaning I had a total of one stallion, seven fillies and ten colts, all in need of being shipped to the ranch. I ended the call and tried to think of how to get it all done, and safely. I wasn’t sure Five’s groom survived Rupert’s killing spree.

  I’d been informed Rupert had gone in, and with his crew, killed a total of nine people, including several barn employees. I offered to give the remaining ones a job if they moved to Wyoming. Two, so far, were in the process of moving.

  Restless, I got up and hobbled into the kitchen. Maria was cooking something I couldn’t name, but smelled so good, my stomach rumbled. She looked a lot like Dad’s side of the family, as the daughter of Dad’s youngest uncle.

  “Maria, what are you cooking? I swear you’re trying to make me fat,” I grinned, patting my stomach.

  “Don’t you worry any. This is good stuff. Come, Karrie-girl, let’s get you fed.” She placed a plate of the most heavenly smelling food in front of me.

  I tore into the spicy, delicious dish, not caring about ingredients. I sat back and patted my distended belly, grinning. Outside, something crashed into the side of the house. I rolled out of the chair and scooted under the table, frantically looking for the point of entry.

  Maria squatted to my level, with a blank expression, “It’s the gate, Karen. I forgot to close it.” She held out a hand, “Come. It’s okay.”

  I didn’t believe her. She stayed in position, hand out, waiting. I glanced around the kitchen, before taking the hand and dragging myself from under the table. She helped me into the living room and settled me onto the couch against a wall without a window.

  She paced a few moments. “Have you told anyone about your reactions?” Maria was in her early sixties, never married, or had children. She’d spent the better part of thirty years in the military, and her gaze felt all knowing.

  “Why? That I run from loud sounds? Yeah, that’ll go over well.” I hugged myself, not meeting the gentle brown eyes.

  “I’ve seen it before. Listen, you need to talk to a therapist. Do you understand me? It is only going to get worse, especially since the other two are running around free at the moment,” she sat on the opposite couch, pulling her feet under her butt. “Don’t ignore this problem, cousin.”

  “I’ll get over it. Can you drive me to therapy tomorrow? Mikey promised to be relentless, and I just look forward to all of the pain she’s going to mete out.” Real subtle change of subject there, ya idiot.

  Maria bestowed me with a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, I will drive you. How much longer on the crutches?”

  “Another couple of weeks.”

  Our conversation steered toward the mundane, the daily, nothing about what happened. I avoided the subject, she accommodated me.

  As promised, Maria drove me to the hospital, expertly maneuvering through downtown Denver traffic. The cell rang, and I recognized Gage’s number. “Hey! How are you doing these days?” I turned down the radio.

  “Arguing with Dad, of course. But listen, they don’t want to tell you. They have a lead on Johnny. He beat the hell out of a prostitute, in an area with cameras. She died, but they got his face.” He sounded as if he had a hand cupped over the phone.

  “Why won’t they tell me?” I began to shake.

  “Dad wants to use the Wyoming Whore as bait.”

  “Man, your father hates me, doesn’t he?” I frowned, trying to control the physical responses. I shook and gripped the phone in an effort to control it.

  “He wants a scapegoat. There is a lot we have to talk about, Karen. When do you come back for therapy?”

  I glanced at Maria, “I’m on my way now.”

  “Good, come see me. Just promise not to hurt me when you get here. Dad’s guard dogs aren’t nearby, so you can get in fairly easily.” The line went dead.

  I stared at the phone, trying to process the conversation. Why would I hurt Gage? He was as much a victim as I was. I still couldn’t understand why his father wanted me to be bait and the scapegoat. Gage was being hailed as a hero in the newspapers, his father’s popularity had risen thirty points in the polls, and the brothers were on the run.

  What the hell was I missing?

  Chapter Sixteen

  I peeked out the elevator, gaze steady on the dingy, tiled floor. The walls were a medium olive green, the floor a little lighter with white flecks. I let my hair fall forward, the short bob hiding most of my features.

  With slow movements, I hobbled down the corridor, until I found Gage’s room. I scratched, not wanting to wake him if he’d fallen asleep.

  “Come in,” he called, and I used my shoulder to open the door.

  Gage lay in the bed, huge pink scars on his exposed chest, face and arms. His leg was in a cast, and I winced. The leg had been broken when I flipped the truck and trailer.

  “Don’t. We survived. I’ll take scars and broken bones to the alternative.” He waved me closer.

  I held his light gray gaze, moving closer. “I have scars too, down my back and hip. Wanna compare?” I smiled.

  Gage chuckled. “I’d love to see, but right now we have a time limit. Dad should return soon. I have something I want you to take to your lawyer.” He handed me a notebook. “Don’t read it, simply give it to him. You retained Howard Schwartz, right?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “Told you, Dad has contacts. Go and go quickly. I’ll call again later. But you have to hurry.” He shooed me out of the room.

  I looked back, but exited as fast as I was able. I made it to the elevator and pushed the down button, catching a glimpse of the Congressman and entourage. I could see why he intimidated Gage, standing at around six foot two, with a power suit and tie. Dark brown hair, graying at the temples, perfect executive style cut. His face was angular, and he could put a lot of shining charm into a smile, though his blue gray eyes remained cold. The literal definition of Alpha Male. Ten men in black suits surrounded him. The entire entourage marched down the hospital halls, forcing people to back into walls and let them by.

  I let my chin hit my chest, not wanting to be recognized.

  I called Howard, and he said to hide in the office of the Hospital Director, a personal friend. I sat there, one arm on the chair, propping up my chin. The Director was a nice woman, very professional in dress and mannerisms. I liked her instantly. She called my attorney, explaining how to get me from a back entrance.

  “I’m going to take you out the back, away from where the Congressman came in. That man is an ass, trying to take over my hospital.” She stood, straightening the gray
wool, cut away jacket, one hand smoothed the matching knee length skirt and held up a finger. I nodded and slid a little further down the seat. She walked out the door, and reappeared with a wheelchair, and a robe with a hood. “I have several patients in the burn unit who prefer this robe. We’re going to pretend you’re one of them.” She motioned to the chair.

  I wanted to hug her. Standing clumsily, I put on the robe, and plopped into the chair. Exhaustion rode hard, and I wanted to know why Gage was hiding me from his father. Better yet, why was a congressman coming after me?

  My head fell forward a little, hiding in the hood of the robe as the Director moved quickly across the hospital tiles. The sound of heels were strangely comforting, and I counted each click-click as we moved to the elevator. One of the Congressman’s body guards passed and nodded at the Director, she returned the gesture and kept moving.

  Down one floor, and she pushed through three sets of swinging doors, across concrete and past the morgue. Double doors were ahead, and she handed me a badge. I leaned forward, swiped the badge, and pushed at the heavy doors.

  The light of the parking garage was dim and hard to see more than one hundred feet. She headed toward a dark corner and turned my back to the concrete walls.

  She squatted in front of me, one hand on a knee, the other holding the armrest of the wheelchair. “I don’t know what is going on, or why Howard begged me to whisk you out so quickly. I owe that man a lot, but tell me this: are you the reason the Congressman’s son survived?”

  I met her eyes, a beautiful dark blue, like the Pacific Ocean in winter. “I’m the reason he’s scarred, the reason he almost died in the truck accident.” I looked away.

  “Listen to me. You saved a child, you took hits, you saved a horse, and a man. I’d say you’ve done more in a few short months than most do in their entire lives. The scarring doesn’t matter. Warriors are scarred, which is what you are.” She stood, straightened the suit and looked around the parking garage. “I can hear a car coming, stay in the dark, nobody will notice you until you let them. I’ll let Howard know you are out of here. Don’t come back. I’ll have Mikey release you.”

  I grabbed her wrist, “Why? Why can’t I come back?” My world felt like it suddenly had a huge crack in it. I relied on my hospital visits.

  “Something has changed, somewhere. You must not return, or they’ll find you.” She patted my hand and gently pried my hand off her wrist. “You have a lot to offer people, Karen Barnes. You aren’t useless, or damaged beyond repair. Find that spine of steel I know you have.” She nodded and left.

  I stared at her retreating back, wondering what in the hell just happened. I had the notebook, tempted to open it. But Gage wanted my attorney to have it. Meaning he didn’t want me to read it. Damn it, I swore at myself. I owed Gage. The Director had been right. I’d saved Gage, not the other way around. At least, not that I knew of. Now I was in the middle of a John Grisham thriller. So not my genre.

  I cracked open the notebook, catching the words microchip, Spade Farms, German intelligence, and Karen’s father, Paul Barnes, hid as requested. I frowned, and started to open it all the way when I heard a car drive close.

  I watched my attorney’s Cadillac pull in front of me, and I smiled. He opened the door and started to climb out.

  A shot rang out, deafening, and echoing in the close confines of the parking garage. I stood, knowing I couldn’t run. I pushed further into the corner, watching the slow motion movie of blood blooming on his white shirt, eyes wide, horror and pain warring on his broad features. He looked away from me, staring at a spot more in the light, and made the motions as if I was running away.

  I pushed as hard as possible into the cold concrete corner, hoping to remain invisible. If they saw the wheelchair, they’d find me in a heartbeat. I looked around for possible escape routes. The door was too far away and in a lot of light. I didn’t have a badge to swipe. The only other exits were up, and I couldn’t run fast enough. I could barely shuffle around for more than ten minutes. Standing in the corner was proving to be more than I could handle at the moment.

  I took a deep breath through my mouth and desperately sought the gunman. Nobody showed themselves, and I couldn’t hear. I stood as still as I possibly could, hoping to feel vibrations, something, anything.

  The piercing sounds of a police siren burst past the ringing in my ears. The car pulled up, two officers jumped out, one bending to check on my attorney. The other did a sweep, talked into the mike on his shoulder, none of which I could hear. Just the wailing of sirens and a persistent buzzing.

  One of them finally saw me, putting his gun away. He held his hands up, slowly inching around the patrol car. More cars joined the chaos, as the police officer tried to signal he wasn’t a danger.

  I wish I could have relaxed and let him come closer. I wish I hadn’t been so terrified. But in front of me, superimposed over the officer, were shadows of men coming after me the night of the kidnapping. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, muscles shook from the need to run, and my heart threatened to burst from its confines in fear. Not again, not again, circled as ghost pain began to throb in my arm. Rage, where is Rage? I looked around for my dog, not recognizing the surroundings.

  The officer was close. Too close. I think I screamed, not seeing in the darkness, feeling the pain of the break. I struck out with my arm, the cast hitting the officer’s arm and throwing him against a wall. I had to get out of there. They were going to hurt me, they were going to threaten a child. I was going to be cut up.

  I tried to run, to get away. My legs failed, couldn’t take my weight, as arms wrapped around my shoulders and waist. Like banded steel, they pushed on still healing wounds and the pain exploded. I screamed for help, called for Rage, begged them not to hurt me. My mind couldn’t take the thought of more pain, more torture. Darkness consumed the light.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “She’s waking up,” a voice whispered in the darkness. I opened my eyes, seeing another hospital room. Fear spurted, and I tried to bolt for the only door I could see. Hands held me down, and a female voice broke through the fog of terror.

  “No, Karen, no. It’s okay, you’re safe.” I looked up to find a woman, probably late twenties, with a kind face and bright green eyes. “You were transferred over here because of your attorney's murder." She pointed at a sign on the door denoting the hospital name.

  I closed my eyes and counted out loud to twenty, opened them, and tried to remain in the present. I was sore all over, and started to relax when I saw an officer by the bathroom door of the room. He looked vaguely familiar.

  “Are you all right? You panicked, Ms. Barnes, and passed out. I had to see how you were doing.” His voice was deep and soothing, his arm in a sling.

  “What happened? Did I do that?” I felt traitorous tears spill.

  He walked over, putting a hand on the bed rail, “I didn’t realize who you were, or I would have approached differently. You reacted in panic, my fault. I get a few paid days off work, and I’ll be good as new.” He leaned over a little, the straight brown hair, a little too long, falling over his forehead. The hazel eyes reminded me of fall. “I needed to make sure you were okay.” He smiled, and it wasn’t hard to imagine women falling over themselves to be the object of his charm.

  I wasn’t one of them.

  “I don’t remember much, just the gunshot and my attorney falling over. I don’t know who …” I stammered, wondering if they were going to point the finger at me for the murder.

  “We know. The shot didn’t come from where you were hiding, and you couldn’t have run in any direction. I don’t think you have the strength to fire anything at the moment.”

  For a brief moment, I wondered if he was a mind reader. Despite that, he was right. Even if I wanted to, handling a firearm wasn’t a possibility at the moment. I recognized my own weakness and hated it. Nodding, and looking away, the shame at my weakness and panic making it hard to keep eye contact.

  No
t liking my shame, I clenched sore jaws and turned to meet the hazel eyed gaze. Although I was only thirty one, he looked so very young.

  “I’ll be back. I don’t live far, if you don’t mind, Ms. Barnes?”

  I frowned, wondering why he wanted to see me again. I was a mess, and not a good material witness. I still had to figure out how to make it through Rupert’s trial in six months. Something made me nod once.

  “Great. It’s an honor to meet you, the guys at the station will be jealous.”

  “Why?”

  “I got my ass kicked by the lovely Captain Karen Barnes, and then she’s going to let me see her again.” He winked, giving a thousand watt smile. “Seriously, it’s everywhere what you did, here and in Iraq. Not every day we get to meet heroes.” He squeezed my hand. Turning on a booted heel, he slipped out the door.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the nice officer as he left. Instincts bade me to be cautious.

  The nurse moved around the room in whisper soft footsteps, but returned when the door closed. “Wow, he’s good looking.” She smiled.

  “I forgot to ask his name, didn’t I?” I was so not myself.

  “He left a card,” and handed over a business card.

  I glanced at it. Kyle Rimergen, Aurora Police Department. It listed his number and email address. “Looks like he wants you to contact him,” I gave a lopsided grin.

  “No, he said to give it to you, Ms. Barnes.” She pulled a tray over and pulled blood, checked all of my vitals, and finally put a tray of food before me. “You’re in for observation, we’ve contacted your cousin to pick you up tomorrow. Now eat this gross stuff, and I’ll check on you later.” She gave my arm a quick squeeze and left.

  I lay there, lost. I didn’t know what happened, or why. In the garage, I’d been transported into the past, unable to separate past from present. It’d been terrifying, living it all over again. My sleep was already a mess of nightmares, and I could add another one. I wanted to call Mikey, but the Director made it clear she was taking her off my case. I needed to know what was going on.