Following Fabian

by Holley Trent

  Deep breaths. Deeeeep breaths. Don’t be that woman. You’re not that woman anymore. You’re bigger than your anger. Be like the ninja monk. Deadly, but calm.

  Deadly, but calm.

  She drew in one frosty inhale through her nose, and forced it out through her lips, never taking her eyes off the defiant absconder.

  “Please. Get. In. The. Car,” she said.

  He shook his head. “I go on bus.”

  “Why?”

  “I will…” His mouth opened and closed around the words that didn’t come out. Finally, he shrugged. “I can.”

  “You can’t. Not unless you plan on putting a bullet through the guy’s head from a distance, which isn’t what we want. We want to take him alive so we can find out the extent of all the dirt he has done over the past forty years. Besides, even if I thought the bullet-through-his-head idea was a good one, between the two of us, I’m way more qualified to take that shot. Nine times out of ten, I hit my target, and that one time left over, I get close enough to make them hurt really bad.”

  Fabian’s eyebrows made a slow creep upward.

  “You don’t understand a damned thing I just said.”

  “You say I can’t, and…” He raised his shoulders and let them fall.

  She sighed. Eventually she’d have to get around to reading that damned dictionary cover-to-cover. She wouldn’t have a handle on the grammar, but she’d know the words. For now, a touch would have to do. She held out her hand, and he pulled his own from his pocket and grasped her fingers.

  “You can’t do this by yourself. I understand the compulsion. Really, I do. Dana gets on us all the time for us trying to do shit without backup. I thought you wanted him caught, though. Turned in.”

  “Maybe now I feel like him sitting in a jail cell waiting for a trial or extradition is a fate too good for him.”

  “You think he needs killin’?”

  Fabian didn’t have to answer. His twitching cheek told her everything she needed to know.

  She lowered her voice to a near whisper as a Rapid City police officer strolled nearer the vehicle. “Why don’t you get in the car and we’ll talk about it?”

  “I don’t want to wait hours or days to get after him. I think it’s critical now that I’ve disappeared that we move. They’ve probably already started shifting their camp.”

  “Let’s talk about it. Come on. We’ll go get a good dinner and call that federal agent so we can get Dana off my back. Then we’ll make a good plan. Please.”

  Was she begging? She wasn’t used to it, and didn’t like the feeling. All she knew was that she couldn’t let this man slip out on his own and play vigilante. Righteous anger wasn’t a good enough weapon against real evil. He needed a plan, some backup, and a lot of luck.

  He nodded, and loosened his grip on her fingers, but before he could take a step toward the hood, the policeman put up his hands.

  “Hold on. Let’s talk for a moment. You got some ID, ma’am? Sir?”

  “What for?” Astrid asked. “I realize I’m in a loading zone, but I am loading. I’m picking this gentleman up, and we’re going to be on our way the moment he puts on his seatbelt.”

  She added that last bit with a wriggle of her eyebrows.

  “The loading is the problem.” He reached for his handcuffs, and Astrid reached for the door handle.

  “Nope, nope,” the officer said. He wagged a fat finger at her. “Stay right there, and I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

  He grabbed Fabian’s backpack, and kicked it far from him. Then, he grabbed his wrist, slapped one side of the cuffs on it, and yanked his other arm behind his back.

  Fabian spat out something in rapid-fire Spanish, struggling against the other man’s rough handling, and Astrid suspected nothing he’d said would improve their situation any. But, she knew the law. She’d been on dean’s list nearly every semester of law school, and maybe she didn’t know Rapid City statutes specifically, but it’d be insane to think this Keystone Cop could arrest a guy just for lingering beside an open car window.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, you have to explain what you’re detaining him for. He doesn’t speak English well. Just let me get out of the car, and we can smooth things out here.”

  Fabian tried to pull away from the man’s grip, only for the officer to give the cuffs a hard yank in the opposite direction.

  He muttered something in Spanish Astrid actually recognized: “Filthy pig.”

  She suppressed a laugh, and said, “Fabian, please, don’t struggle.”

  He shook his head at her, and his expression read quite easily, What?

  “Uh…no fight?”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “So, you know this guy’s name?” The cop said. “Repeat customer?”

  Now she got it. The greasy fucker thought she was soliciting the services of a prostitute.

  As if she had to pay for it if she wanted it. Her former joke came back to haunt her, and she’d been right. It wasn’t funny.

  “He’s not a prostitute.” She reached for the handle again, and pulled it.

  Fuck this guy. Fuck him and his little baton.

  Was she supposed to be scared of that thing?

  “Ma’am, you need to get back in that car until I’m ready for you.”

  “Well, I’m ready for you right now, big boy,” she said, and propped her hands on her hips. “You see a woman in a rental car and you think you can throw a little weight around, but let me tell you something. I know the law. Studied it. There’s no fucking law that says I can’t pick my boyfriend up after he’s changed his mind about getting on a bus. Let. Him. Go.”

  One corner of the slimeball’s chapped lips quirked up, and he reached for the radio at his shoulder.

  He pushed the button, still grinning.

  “We got a situation down at the tour bus pick-up lane. I’m going to need some backup.”

  She scoffed, disbelieving. “Fuck you, dude. You’re just jealous I didn’t offer to pay you for some dick.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Fabian stretched his arm through the gap between the two chairs and was just barely able to press the pad of his left pinky against Astrid’s naked wrist.

  She tipped her head a nearly imperceptible tick toward him and grunted softly.

  “It’s a good thing you didn’t have any weapons in the car,” he said.

  She chuckled. “No kidding.” Sighing, she rolled her shoulders and slumped a bit more in the hard plastic chair. She splayed her fingers, made a fist, and shook out her hand the best she could. She managed to grab his fingertips, which were starting to go numb. They’d been shackled to their chairs for hours, and there’d already been lots of back and forth between Astrid and the sergeant at the desk. Fabian hadn’t caught all of it, but the best he could tell, the officers didn’t really have a compelling reason to book them, and now they were just holding them to amp up Astrid’s annoyance factor.

  “You worried about them running background checks on you?” he asked.

  “They can run me through every database they have access to, but they’re not going to find anything interesting. All they know about me is that I have a North Carolina driver’s license, that I’m permitted to carry firearms, that I work for an investigation firm—which I suspect isn’t ingratiating me with them in the slightest bit—and that my name’s still on the deed of a lodge I sold outright to my brother a year ago.”

  She scoffed.

  “Poor Eric. Honestly, you’re the one that’s really pissing them off. You have no ID and won’t even tell them your real last name.”

  “They don’t know that the name is phony.”

  “I’m pretty sure García is the Spanish equivalent of Smith as far as common names go. They have to suspect at least one of us is pulling their collective legs.”

  “Quiet over there,” the desk sergeant barked.

  “We’re talking in hushed tones as it is,” Astrid said. “But I’ll raise my voice to say this. When do I g
et to make my phone call? Either book us for something, preferably something legitimate, or let us go. As it is, you’re going to catch a heap of shit from my boss for impounding my rental car. You’re going to screw her corporate contract all to hell, and when she gets cranky, people move Heaven and Earth to get out of her way.”

  The sergeant slipped a sheath of papers beneath his industrial stapler and brought his fist down on the top. “I wish we could book you for delusions of grandeur.”

  Astrid opened her mouth again, but Fabian scooted the heavy chair over an inch and gave her fingers a strong squeeze, scraping the skin of his wrist in the handcuff bracelet in the process. “He’s trying to incite you,” he said.

  She looked at him, and her expression was pained. Poor thing. It was probably eating her up that she couldn’t freely speak her mind.

  “Can you communicate silently? Like you did this morning?” he asked her.

  She drew her lips back in a cringe. “I can, but it’s difficult to filter the thoughts when I’m agitated. I wouldn’t want to accidentally share things that should be kept personal.”

  “Can you try? I suspect the sergeant is having a great time trying to parse the one-sided conversation, or at least what he can hear of it.”

  She sighed, and ran her thumb over his. “Okay. Lalalalala.”

  He couldn’t help but to grin. “What is it you’re thinking that you don’t want me to hear?” He turned his face toward the desk, realizing how suspicious staring at Astrid without talking to her would look. Yes, she was a beautiful woman, but he didn’t want to give the fine officers any additional reasons to scrutinize his actions. They’d probably separate them, and he most certainly didn’t have a plan for that.

  “Truth?” she asked.

  “Yes, truth.”

  “I was just thinking that if I had let you get on the bus, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

  “Oh, well, that’s funny. I was thinking that it’s ironic that we were dragged in under suspicion of prostitution, because if we were actually back at the hotel having the sex I suggested, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  She snorted. “We wouldn’t still be having sex.”

  He scoffed. “Yes, we would be.”

  In his periphery, he could see her turning her face toward him. He would have paid handsomely to see her expression, but instead, he fixed his gaze on the big white clock over the sergeant’s desk. Nearly five. It’d been a long fucking day.

  She squeezed his hand. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Felipe about this. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand being on the receiving end of those knowing looks and smirks of his.”

  “Yes, he’d find this very amusing. This is exactly the kind of shit I’d find myself in. He’s definitely the luckier of the two of us. Don’t worry. We’ll make up a good lie.”

  She giggled, and the sound made him smile. More than that, it made him relax enough to take his first deep breath in an hour. Now he did steal a look at her, and although her eyelids were heavy, her lips were bowed in a smile.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Been burning the candle at both ends for about ten days. I figured it’d catch up to me eventually.”

  “Why don’t you close your eyes for a while?”

  “Can’t. I want to get out of this hellmouth before the five o’clock shift change, or else we’re going to be here a long damn time while the next dude or dudette gets his or her shit together. You were right. Jacques is going to move, and we don’t have the time to squander.”

  “No touching,” the sergeant said. “Separate, or I’ll part you myself.”

  “Come on, there’s no fucking rule against that,” Astrid said. She rolled her eyes. “Let me make my phone call. You guys are dicking around and toeing very close to the no-no line. By the way, I don’t need a pen and paper to remember your name and badge number, officer. Eidetic memory.”

  The sergeant looked down at his chest and placed a hand over his badge.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Astrid said. She stroked her fingers along the top of Fabian’s hand brazenly, and he had to stifle a laugh.

  “Larson. Badge number B-E dash 3-1-7. In service since 1989. You go, boy. Get your twenty-five year props. You get a cake for that, or do they just let you off the hook for writing tickets?”

  The cop stood and pounded the desktop. “I haven’t written a ticket since 2005.”

  “Whoopie-damn-do. Maybe you should get out and chase down a few folks to issue bogus citations to. Looks like you’ve been under fluorescent lights too long. Bad for the health, you know? Especially way up here so close to the goddamned North Pole. Vitamin D supplements help some, but it’s always best to get that shit straight from nature.”

  She shrugged.

  “At least, that’s what my partner Maria tells me. She keeps up with that stuff. Me, I’m too busy keeping up with teeny statute changes that allow assholes like you and your flatfooted buddy on patrol duty to detain innocent citizens without cause for hours and hours and fucking hours.”

  “You watch your tone,” he said, jutting his index finger in her direction.

  “Let me go, or give. Me. My. Fucking. Phone call. If I have to ask you again, I’ll make it my personal mission in life to prevent you from ever again consuming a donut or anything resembling one, and that includes bagels and Cheerios in all their multitude of flavors. The fruity ones are so good they’re ridic. Have you had them? Bet you have.”

  The sergeant’s face flooded an unhealthy shade of red, and shaking with anger, he picked up the phone his buddy had confiscated from Astrid at the time of their arrest and threw it at her. “Here,” he said.

  She snatched it out of the air with an uncanny reflex that reminded Fabian of frogs grabbing flies from the air.

  “Shrew thing?” he asked.

  “What?” She woke up her phone, and grunted. “Goddamn it, the battery’s low.”

  “Might want to be careful with the speed. Don’t want to make the pig suspicious.”

  She worked her right thumb over the touchscreen, and seemed to be scrolling through the message history. “Oh, sugar, I am being careful. I could pop this cuff if I wanted to. Wouldn’t be that hard. I did it before during this one job when I—”

  Suddenly, the thoughts stopped, and he looked at her.

  She shook her head. “You don’t need to know that story.”

  Judging by the sudden pink flush of her cheeks, he doubted that assertion, but he didn’t press. He gave her hand a squeeze. “I could slip out, too. Phase into air just enough to slip my wrist through.”

  She gave him a long blink. “You’re saying we could have made a run for it when that asshole went to the bathroom?”

  He shrugged. “Guess we need to communicate better.”

  “Why? If we’re going to pretend to be a couple, we might as well have the shitty communication that goes along with it.”

  “Quit touching!” the sergeant said.

  Astrid dialed and put the phone against her ear. “Dude, get a grip. I’ve got three kids with this man. What’s a little handholding when he’s witnessed my body ripped asunder as I birthed our beautiful multinational spawn? They’re so pretty, I wish you could see them. They’re at my aunt’s house right now, visiting. Their names are Jessie, Joey, and—”

  “Javier,” Fabian finished.

  “Mm-hmm. Isn’t it cute he has a favorite, sergeant? I guess I can’t blame him. Javier’s such a scrappy little kid. Reminds me of his daddy, but is fifty percent less stubborn.”

  “Ha ha, dragon.”

  “Hey, be glad it’s me here and not Maria. Maria probably would have chanted or said oms until they made her shut up.”

  The sergeant’s eyes bulged, and to be safe, Fabian released the Shrew’s hand.

  “Hello, Agent Rodriguez?” Astrid said into her phone.

  Agent?

  “My name is Astrid Falk. You were told to expect my call?”

  The sergeant’s face
went from red to burgundy.

  Fabian took her hand once again. He didn’t want to miss this.

  “Yes, I’m in Rapid City at the moment with you-know-who, and have run into a little problem with the local police. They’re detaining us on suspicion that he was selling me his sweet ass, and that I was happily tendering currency for it. I’ll have you know I was not. Why would I give my own boyfriend money for dick? It’s good dick, but that’s stupid. If you could just—”

  Sergeant Larson scrambled around the desk and grabbed Astrid’s phone. He put it to his ear. “This is Sergeant Larson, Rapid City Police. Whom am I speaking with?”

  Fabian could practically feel the anger radiating off the man’s body as he listened.

  “You got an identification number to back that up?” Sergeant Larson hurried back to his computer and typed some information in one-handedly. “Oh, you’re in town, huh? Well, there’s no need to—”

  His Adam’s apple rose and fell and his gaze cut toward Astrid.

  “Yeah, see you in ten minutes. They’ll be ready.” He disconnected the call and tossed the phone back to Astrid. It went wide, but Fabian caught it.

  “Can’t do anything about the car,” Sergeant Larson said. “You’re out of luck on that.”

  “I’d like to share some of that unluckiness with you.” Astrid said through gritted teeth. “But for now, how about you unlock these cuffs and show me to the bathroom?”

  Sergeant Larson sat heavily into his chair and put his booted feet up on the desk. “What’s the hurry? You’ve got about nine minutes before you have to go. Get comfy. Hold hands. Have a nice conversation. I won’t bother you.”

  “You—”

  Fabian squeezed the dragon’s hand. “Save it for later. You can yell at me instead if you want.”

  She sighed, and danced in her seat. “Nine minutes. Fuck.”

  If he had to be chained to anyone, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d prefer it to be. He was going to unlock the mysteries of his little dragon, whether she liked it or not.