Beneath Broken (Imperfect Heroes #2)

by C. J. Pinard

“Bye, Harper.”

  I hung up and walked out into the office to greet Kyle. Putting out my hand, he shook it and looked at me nervously. I placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t be nervous, you’re going to do great. Let me show you to your desk.”

  Unfortunately, we didn’t really have a lot of cubicles, just desks scattered around the office. I had it in the budget to buy cubicle partitions, but hadn’t gotten around to purchasing them yet. Only my finance guy and computer guy had their own offices at the back.

  “Here we are,” I said to him as we reached a desk that was set close to the entrance to my office door. “You’re going to kind of be my right-hand man here. I don’t really have a personal assistant, but never really needed one. You’ll just report directly to me. Any questions you have you come see me only. Got it?” I asked with a smile.

  His demeanor relaxed and I watched as his handsome face lit up in a smile. His green eyes sparkled as he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I waved a finger at him. “Tsk. No ma’ams here. Just call me Harper. Always. Okay?”

  “Yes… Harper.”

  “Sit,” I ordered. He sat in the new black leather office chair and I handed him a slip of paper. “Here’s your new employee paperwork and computer log-in and password. There’s a storage closet in the back of with any office supplies you might need. After you get that paperwork finished, and your desk settled, I’ll give you a tour of the office and show you where everything is.”

  “Sounds great. Thanks again. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have this job,” he said.

  “Did you find daycare for Luke yet?” I asked, leaning a hip on his desk.

  “Not yet, but I have a few places to interview. In fact, I have an appointment today at 3:30. I will have to leave early for that. Sorry about that.”

  I smiled and pushed off the desk and waved a hand. “Not a problem. Take care of your business.”

  I went back into my office and continued to reply to emails, and smiled to myself. I felt happy. Really, and truly happy like the dark cloud that had been lingering over my head for the past year and a half was finally blowing away, making room for the sunshine to filter through.

  My phone rang from the locker as I reached the ladies’ locker room after our workout.

  “Hi, Mace,” I answered.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” he replied.

  “How was your day?” I asked, slightly out of breath.

  Adria eyed me but said nothing. She just proceeded to strip completely naked and head for the shower. I turned my back on her. The woman had no shame.

  “We need to celebrate,” he replied.

  I smiled and scrubbed a towel down my face. “Really? Your day was that good?”

  He chuckled. “Yes – Silas has been re-arrested.”

  “Oh, that’s awesome!” I squealed out.

  “That’s what I said,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “The same judge who had set his bail really low had also granted us a search warrant. We found a shitload of stolen property at his place. We also got some info from the IRS that will help seal his fate. He’s done. You don’t have to worry about him any longer.”

  Not that I had been scared of Silas, but I did feel a huge sense of relief. “That is wonderful news, Mason. It really is.”

  “Have dinner with me,” he demanded, a smile in his voice.

  I bit my lip and watched Adria’s head bob under the shower as she shampooed her hair. Thankfully, the partition blocked me from seeing any other part of her.

  “I can’t. I told Adria I’d spend time with her. She’s still going through a tough time. You understand.”

  “I do. You girls have fun.”

  “Raincheck?” I asked.

  He laughed. “I never understood the meaning of that term, but I do know what it means, so yes, raincheck. Tomorrow, if you’re free?”

  “I will definitely be free for you tomorrow, Detective.”

  “It’s a date, beautiful. See you then. Have a good night.”

  I hung up as Adria got out of the shower. She grabbed a towel and began drying herself off. “I heard that. You could have gone out with him. I wouldn’t have minded.”

  I smiled at her as I closed my locker after grabbing my purse and gym bag. “Well I would have minded. We need to catch up. And I need a favor.”

  She lifted an eyebrow as she pulled on a fitted cotton dress over her curves. “Yeah, and what’s that?”

  I took a deep breath and looked into her brown eyes. “I need you to hold my hand while I clean out Keith’s closet and drawers. Then I need you to go to the store and pick out decorations and redecorate the entire bedroom.”

  Sympathy danced in her eyes and she came over and grabbed my hand. “Of course I will do those things, but I kinda suck at decorating so you’ll have to help a little in that department.”

  I nodded, suddenly fighting back tears at getting rid of Keith’s things, even though I knew it was time. It was more than past time. I forced a smile at my best friend. “We can suck together.”

  She began to walk out of the locker room and I followed her. As we left the gym, she strolled next to me and said, “Let’s do it tonight. Order some takeout and wine. Just knock it out.”

  Shocked at the suggestion but not against it, I chewed my lip and stared out at the people working out as we moved past them. Then I looked at her and said, “Ya know what? Sure. Let’s do it.”

  “Pit-stop first,” she said, smiling.

  We made it to our cars, and I said, “I don’t wanna know. Just meet me at my house after your ‘pit-stop’, okay?”

  She nodded. “You got it.”

  “Thank you, Aid.”

  She smiled and got into her small white sports car and started it up.

  I was so tired of being brave and fighting sadness when I walked into this room. I shook my head and stomped into the master bathroom. Stripping off my workout clothes I tossed them into the hamper. I started up my shower and took a five minute quickie. I felt a little better as I let the hot water relax and soothe me in preparation for the task that lay ahead of me.

  As I wrapped myself in a towel, I heard my downstairs front door open. I toweled off quickly and went to my dresser, pulling open the middle drawer and slipping on some drawstring shorts. I quickly put on a bra and a pink tank top.

  “Hey, you ready to do this?” Adria asked, a bottle of wine in one hand, a CD and two red Solo cups in the other as she appeared in my bedroom doorway.

  I nodded with sadness and went to my dresser and grabbed a hairbrush, detangling my hair, then pulling it up into a ponytail. “Yes, let’s do it.”

  She unscrewed the lid to the wine and poured the wine into the cups. She handed me one. “To a fresh start.”

  I smiled and clinked my cup with hers. “Fresh starts.”

  I gulped down the red wine, which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I set the cup on my dresser and pointed at the cup and bottle. “Classy.”

  “Bitch, there’s nobody here to impress.”

  I bit back a smile. “You have a point.”

  “CD player?” she asked.

  I furrowed my eyebrows. “Uh, let me grab it from the spare bedroom.” Who listened to CDs anymore? I knew we had one in there somewhere, though.

  I walked across the hall and flipped on the light to the spare room. I looked around at the computer desk and the desktop and monitor sitting there. I spotted Keith’s small, black CD player sitting on the floor and unplugged it from the wall. He’d said he was going to paint the room one day, and I had no doubt he would have been blasting some metal music while he painted.

  Carrying it into my room, I found Adria already had every drawer in my dresser open. I tried not to laugh as I saw her with a pair of Keith’s boxers in her hand. She seemed a bit chagrinned and said, “I should probably just get a box, huh?”

  I plugged the CD player into the wall in the master bath. I put in the CD she had brought and hit play.

  Prince’s
Greatest Hits. Nice.

  “Did you bring boxes?” I asked. If not, I was gonna have to go and grab some large trash bags.

  “Actually, I did. The grocery store had tons in the back, and a cute guy in a green apron loaded them into the trunk of my car while I stood there and stared at his very fine, firm ass.” She tried to sound like her normal funny, snarky self, but an element of it was missing. Adria was trying so hard, so I decided I would just go along with it.

  I laughed. “Of course you did.”

  She left the room to go get the boxes and I surveyed the room. A war of emotions began to torrent through me. My go-to emotion while in this room, sadness, was there, like the old, depressing friend it was. But then a tiny bit of pride began to blossom under the surface. I wouldn’t call it bravery, but I was proud of myself for doing this. Then another emotion I hadn’t felt in a very long time began to take root.

  Panic.

  Why did I feel panicked? And why were these emotions flying through me faster than the speed of light?

  “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Adria’s voice broke me out of my emotional barrage.

  I looked up to see her carrying flattened boxes.

  Prince’s voice crooned through the speakers. “And this is what it sounds like when doves cry…”

  I shook my head. “Nothing, nothing at all. Let’s get this over with.”

  She eyeballed me speculatively before making a move, but I ignored her stare and watched as she assembled a box, set it on the bed, and began grabbing handfuls of his clothes and dropping them into it.

  With more bravery than I felt, I flung open Keith’s closet and had to stuff down a cry. All his uniforms were hung neatly pressed on hangers, all one inch apart on the closet poles. Lots and lots of camouflaged uniforms hung there neatly, most likely dusty… along with two sets of dress blues.

  “Adria,” I said, feeling defeated and weak. “I can’t.”

  She jerked her head in my direction and crossed the room in no time. She gripped me by both upper arms and looked me in the eye. “You’re on underwear and nightstand duty. I got this.”

  I nodded and said flatly to avoid crying, “Put the military uniforms in a separate box, I need to ask someone what I’m supposed to do with them.”

  “You got it, babe,” she replied, trying to sound lighthearted.

  I could barely see what I was pulling out of the drawers through the blur of unshed tears. Why had the military uniforms hit me so hard like that? I wanted to analyze it, but I didn’t want to. The Marine Corps had been such a big part of our lives, maybe that’s why.

  I couldn’t think about it. I just grabbed pairs of balled up socks and tossed them in the box. I obviously knew exactly which drawers were Keith’s, so when all of them were empty, I felt a little proud of myself. I slid the box up the bed near the pillows and grabbed the stack of magazines from the floor and emotionlessly tossed them in the box. Then I opened the nightstand drawer and sat on the bed as I began to go through it.

  Another set of dog tags sat on top. I pulled them out and stroked the etching with my thumb and then tossed them on the bed. I didn’t want those going anywhere. I already knew what I would do with those.

  Greeting cards I’d given him over the years, a couple of spy thriller paperbacks, and a small white envelope with my name on it lay at the bottom. It was sealed and simply read “Harper” on the front in his handwriting. My stomach turned over and I began to feel queasy.

  “Aid,” I said with a shaky, quiet voice.

  She came around the bed. “What is it?”

  I handed her the envelope and sunk my teeth into my bottom lip. “I can’t.”

  “Do you want me to?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  I nodded and shut the now-empty nightstand drawer. I looked up at the large 16x20 wedding photo of us over the bed and knew it needed to come down.

  I heard Adria gently tear open the envelope. I didn’t look, I sat staring unseeing at the bedspread.

  Feeling the bed give as she sat next to me, she set something on my bare legs. I looked down to see… government notes.

  I looked at my best friend.

  “Savings bonds. Lots of them.” She smiled a little.

  “What, no big, dramatic letter?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Nope, just the savings bonds. About ten thousand dollars’ worth from what I can count. You gotta go to the bank to find out what they’re worth, though.”

  I took the envelope out of her hand, shoved the bonds back into it, and threw it on the dresser next to his dog tags. I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or upset that he hadn’t left me one last love letter.

  That disturbed me deeply. Maybe I wasn’t ready to be with Mason – or anyone else if I was still this jarred this hard by something so simple as an envelope.

  Chapter 24

  Mason

  I could think of nothing else but the numerous questions whirling around my brain as I waited for the guard to let me into the special visiting room at the county lockup.

  Once finally seated, I didn’t have to wait long before a loud buzzer sounded and the heavy metal door opened. A guard escorted Silas, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and cuffed at both the wrists and ankles, and I watched curiously as he came shuffling into the small room. Dark circles encased his eyes and he looked pale and thin.

  The guard plunked the inmate down into the chair opposite of me.

  Silas narrowed tired eyes at me. “You.”

  I nodded. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced. I’m Detective Mason Oliver with Tampa PD.”

  He sat back in the chair while the guard stood nearby. “I don’t really give a shit who you are.”

  I nodded. “I figured that, but in order to close out my case and hand it over to the feds, I have a couple of questions.”

  “Do I need my fuckin’ lawyer here or what?” he asked.

  I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “If you want, but I don’t think any attorney can help you at this point.”

  He leaned back in his chair and looked out the small, barred window of the room. “Whatever, just ask.”

  I looked at the guard, then to the two-way mirror set into the side of the room and said into the camera mounted to the wall. “Silas did just agree to speak to me without an attorney.”

  Not that I expected a response, I just wanted to cover my own ass. “I really only have a couple of questions that need to be answered.”

  He looked back at me with beady brown eyes and I noticed he looked almost sickly. Silas didn’t say anything in response, though, just stared at me.

  “Why did you feel the need to rob small businesses?”

  He shrugged. “I was bored and needed money.”

  “Bullshit,” I came back quickly. “There are a dozen banks in downtown alone you could have tried to knock over, that would have taken a lot less effort. Yet, you went through the trouble to steal equipment – expensive, heavy equipment – from these small, nonprofit businesses. Why?”

  He just stared at me with a smirk on his face as though he had something over me. I wanted to knock it clean off his face with my fist. Instead, I tried not to let my temper get the better of me by continuing to talk.

  “Are you responsible for the robberies in Orlando, also? Keep in mind that things will go easier for you if you just come clean, Silas.”

  He stared at me, almost seeming to war with himself, before nodding slightly. I thought I saw him smile slightly, and found it odd. The guy definitely had a few screws loose.

  “Good, we’re getting somewhere. Next question, what do you want with a nonprofit? They have no money, nothing to give. They’re just trying to help the less fortunate. They don’t profit off of anything.”

  His smile faded and he glared at me with narrowed eyes. I could tell he was growing angry. Still, he didn’t speak, so I continued to bait him.

  “It takes a real piece of shit to steal from people who are just trying to help th
ose in need. Think of how many poor, hungry children and single mothers who didn’t get a meal or some clothing to go to a job interview in because you stole what little supplies they had.”

  He sat forward in his chair suddenly, spit flying from his mouth as he said, “That’s bullshit! Those companies aren’t nonprofit! They are all full of crap. They don’t help anyone! They lie about their tax status just to get over and not have to pay taxes. All those TVs, computers, and the rest of that expensive shit – they don’t need or deserve any of it!” His face was so red, it was almost purple now, and I thought he was going to jump out of his seat. I bit back a smile at his anger and baited him some more.

  The guard in the corner made a move toward him, but I shook my head slightly at him, and he stood down.

  “All of that equipment was donated to them,” I said, turning my attention back to Silas.

  He let out a frustrated cry, and if he hadn’t been handcuffed behind him, I could tell he probably would have slammed his fists on the tabletop. “Also a load of shit! This whole cycle of not having to pay taxes, then getting donations so others can get a tax write-off by donating to your bullshit company – it’s all a big pile of crap. It’s a scam, and it’s not fair.”

  I grinned. “Well, seeing as you owe,” I flipped open the manila folder I’d brought with me and used my finger to scan the top sheet, “twenty-one thousand, four hundred and eighty dollars to the IRS, I could see how you’d be angry.”

  Silas sat back in his chair. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  The cocky grin I’d been wearing left my face and I leaned over the table and got in his face. “It has every fucking thing to do with this case. It’s clear you aren’t fond of paying taxes and thought stealing from nonprofits and selling their stuff would solve your problems.”

  He shook his head and pierced me with a beady stare. “Nobody’s problems will be solved until we abolish the IRS.”

  I looked down at my folder then back up at Silas. “I’m not going to get into an argument with you over taxes, the Fair Tax, or anything else political. All I know is that you are one of the lowest life forms I have ever met for stealing from nonprofits. Mathis Associates helps veterans. You’re a vet, aren’t you?”