Redemption Lost

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “What did you get last night?”

  “Amazon gift cards. Like five hundred dollars’ worth.” Her eyes sparkled. “Cool, huh?”

  Christy fought the urge to shudder. “You’re doing great. Did the man who introduced you to this tell you that you had to do this?”

  “Not exactly. I mean he did say that if I said anything to anybody about it, whether I chose to join or not, that I’d be dead.” She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms even though the room was pretty warm.

  Christy said nothing.

  “I mean I thought it would be fun. A good way to network since I want to be in politics and get cool stuff. My good friend was doing it, and she told me it was great. I can say no any time I want. I don’t have to say yes.”

  If her friend had been doing this for a while now and was still doing it, then what was the danger? Was there any? Were they barking up the wrong tree? “Do they send you a car?”

  “Usually they have us take a taxi or Uber or something and they pay the bill.”

  “The app or the person you’re meeting?”

  “The person I’m meeting.” Her eyes lit on Christy’s pen again, and she saw Christy notice. “It’s still working, right?”

  “Yes,” she said and then discreetly checked her phone.

  Ace: There’s a bug in the top right corner of the house.

  Relief washed over her. It must be the girl’s bedroom. “We have a good five minutes left.”

  “Why are you asking these questions?”

  “A bad man is using that app. We want to stop him but we weren’t sure how we could get an undercover agent in there to bring him down.” It wasn’t exactly true, but it was something this girl could relate to. Bad men needed to be stopped.

  The girl wrung her hands. “Am I in trouble?” She looked all around, her mouth open in desperation.

  Christy reached out and touched her fidgeting hands. “You are not in any danger. There’s a form to fill out in order to maybe nominate or recommend you to the app?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head vigorously.

  “Who is your friend that nominated you?”

  She grimaced.

  “Don’t worry. We aren’t planning on contacting her.”

  “Okay. Hannah Colegrove.”

  “Do you know what her screen name is?”

  “I think she said it was Sandi.”

  “That’s good. Really good. And your screen name?”

  “Star Girl.”

  “Thank you. Just a few more questions and we’re done. How do you know when you have an offer?”

  “We look at the app and people message us.”

  “You check it out every day?”

  “We have to check every two hours, because it’s required to accept or deny within two hours of the offer or we risk expulsion.”

  “Good. Are you safe when you meet with these guys?”

  She looked down at her hands and her face was red.

  “They’ve all been really nice. I mean if anybody ever hurt me, I’m supposed to report that person. The app bans those people. That’s one of the reasons I decided it would be okay.”

  “Thank you, Carrie. I’ll let you go. You’ve helped us tremendously. We’ll get the bad guy out of the system so that you can stay as safe as possible.”

  “Thanks.”

  Christy wanted desperately to give her a number or something so that she could call if she felt threatened, but she knew she couldn’t leave any trace. “Please. Please. Stay safe. Don’t go anywhere with anyone without telling someone where you are. You don’t have to say what you’re doing, but at least where you’re going. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  Christy walked to the door and left, her heart in her shoes. She would put an end to this app no matter what. If there was no app, then girls like Carrie couldn’t be taken advantage of.

  Chapter 12

  MARYBETH

  Marybeth sat at the bottom of the Lincoln Memorial steps, waiting for Christy. Her heart pounded, and she wrung her sweaty hands together. It was usually a calming place for Marybeth, but today she was full of agitation. She scanned the crowd again for any sign of Christy, but she was nowhere to be found. She bit her lip, trying to prepare what she would say in her mind. Christy would have to understand, wouldn’t she?

  Marybeth couldn’t handle sitting still any longer. She leaped up and began pacing along the edge of the reflecting pool. Her chest felt constricted, like she couldn’t take a full breath—everything was wrong. She couldn’t be in the Alvarez home anymore. Watching James Alvarez play the loving husband, the doting father. Was it all an act? His tears for Bradley seemed so real, but then again, so did his loyalty to his wife. He was actively seeking out girls younger than Marybeth to spend his nights with—what else was the man hiding? And all this time, she’d lived in his home, and she’d had no clue. She scowled, disgusted at herself.

  She stared off into the reflection pool, the cement stairs reaching up behind her into the shrine where Lincoln sat, looking down over the National Mall. She loved this place—she had ever since her parents had brought her here as a little girl. It had always seemed so majestic, honorable. But now—she wondered if there was any honor left on Capitol Hill.

  Finally, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure moving toward her along the tree-lined path that ran beside the reflecting pool. A few of the trees had started to turn a rusty orange, and the beauty of it sent a pang of regret through Marybeth. She shook her head. She’d miss this place, but it was for the best. Christy gave a little wave, and Marybeth’s stomach twisted. What would Christy think of her when she told her what she was planning?

  A light breeze picked up, sending a cascade of leaves streaming down from the trees’ fading canopy. The wind stirred something inside her, and she tucked her hair behind her ears and hurried to meet her friend. They met under a tree a little way down the reflection pool, the Lincoln Memorial looming above them.

  “Hey,” Christy said softly.

  Marybeth shoved her hands into her pockets and kicked at the crisp leaves. “I feel like I should be wearing a trench coat.”

  Christy chuckled. “It does sort of feel like a scene out of a movie, doesn’t it?”

  Marybeth looked into her friend’s eyes. She didn’t know how to start, so she waited to hear what Christy had to say.

  “You’ll never believe what we’ve uncovered. Alvarez isn’t just cheating on his wife. He uses an app to find girls and he hooks up with them several times a week. We’ve been tracking his activity on the app and he’s…prolific. I’m sorry. I know this is hard to hear.”

  Marybeth just nodded. Alvarez was not the man she’d thought he was. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and it was still stuck in her throat.

  “There’s more.” Christy bit her lip, watching Marybeth as though she were a sandcastle about to crumble.

  She sighed. “You can tell me.”

  “We’re fairly certain that Alvarez was involved with Bradley’s death.”

  Marybeth sucked in a breath. Nothing should be able to surprise her, and yet… She listened as Christy explained the working theory.

  “At first, we thought it was Patriotware—the makers of the app that Alvarez uses for his hookups. They’re incredibly protective of their secrets; death threats are part of their user agreement, for goodness sake. But something wasn’t fitting—Bradley never used the app, he never signed their user agreement. Basically, to Patriotware, Bradley didn’t exist.”

  Marybeth’s brow furrowed. “So then, if it wasn’t about the app, then why…?”

  Christy shook her head. “I still think it’s about the app, just not what we were originally assuming. He was definitely killed to set an example—the way they displayed his body points to Patriotware trying to warn their users not to blab.”

  “But you just said—”

  “The question is—how did Patriotware even know Bradley was threatening to expose them?” She rais
ed her eyebrows expectantly.

  Marybeth let out a long, slow breath. “Alvarez told them.”

  Christy nodded. “He wanted Bradley gone, and he used Patriotware to get rid of him. He may not have pulled the trigger himself, but Alvarez killed Bradley Durham all the same.”

  Marybeth looked out over the reflecting pool. How had everything gone so wrong?

  “But I still feel like we’re missing something,” Christy went on. “I can’t shake the feeling that—”

  Marybeth raised a hand in a warding gesture. “Stop. Stop!” Tears slipped down her cheeks unbidden, and she wiped at them angrily.

  “Oh, geez, I’m sorry Marybeth. I forgot it’s more than clues and mysteries to you. I forgot he was your friend.” She placed her hands on Marybeth’s arms, rubbing them gently.

  “I have something to tell you and you’re not going to like it.” Marybeth’s chin tilted down, but her eyes looked up at Christy. “I’m leaving.”

  Christy’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, leaving?”

  “I’m sending in my resignation to Polity. I’m not cut out for this.”

  Alarm flashed over Christy’s normally controlled features. “Marybeth—no. We need you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m useless. I’ve been living with Alvarez for all this time and I had no idea who he really was. Cheating on his wife, threatening other senators—and now you’re telling me he ordered Bradley’s death! I called you in to protect him. I feel so naïve.”

  “Marybeth, none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known what Alvarez was doing.”

  “Couldn’t I? I’m supposed to be a spy. I was supposed to be watching him, learning about all his hidden secrets. I thought he didn’t have any.” She scoffed. “I took him at face value. And now Bradley is dead.”

  “Look, I know how you must be feeling—”

  “How could you possibly know?! You’ve never made a mistake in your life—you and your photographic memory and your insta-spy skills. You were out of Bresen in—what—a couple months? And you went straight into real missions. I’ve been training with Polity for almost two years. I’ve worked for several different congressmen. And what have I accomplished? Well, I can make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I apparently have no clue when I’m living in the home of a murderer.”

  Christy sighed. “Look, you can’t give up now. Whatever mistakes you may or may not have made, you’re the only one in a position to get us what we need on Alvarez.”

  “I’m not the right person for the job. I’ve proven that.” Marybeth wiped at her face with her sleeves. She hated that she couldn’t stop crying.

  “Marybeth, I believe in you. You’re smart, and you’re strong. You trusted the wrong person, but your instincts were still right—you knew something was going on and you fought to bring in my team, even when you didn’t have the support of Polity. You can do this. I know you can.”

  She shook her head and pulled away from Christy. Anger lashed through her, cutting through the grief. “I didn’t ask for this, you know.” She stared at Christy belligerently.

  “What do you mean?” A slight defensiveness crept into Christy’s tone.

  “All I’ve ever wanted in my life was to be involved in government—do you remember? We were sixteen when we met on that trip. All that mock senate stuff, and touring the Capitol? I was so excited to be here. And then you made us witness that assassination and nothing—nothing—in my life has gone the way it was supposed to ever since then. I didn’t want to go into witness protection. I didn’t want to go to spy school. And I definitely didn’t want any of this! I wasn’t made for this life. I want out.” It felt good to finally say what she’d been feeling all these years. She admired Christy, loved her even. But the truth was that if it weren’t for her, Marybeth’s life would have turned out completely different. She hadn’t realized how much anger she harbored until this moment.

  Christy’s mouth set in a thin line. She stepped closer to Marybeth, and spoke in a low, controlled voice. “You think I asked for any of this to happen? You think I wanted to spend my high school years running for my life? Well, I didn’t. But you have to think about something—who was there for us when terrorists came after us?”

  Marybeth squirmed under Christy’s fiery gaze. She crossed her arms over her chest and refused to answer.

  “Jeremy was there. The FBI. Division. Good people who give up everything easy in life, to do what's hard—protecting people. Stopping evil people from doing evil things, and keeping the rest of the world as safe as possible.”

  Marybeth knew what Christy was getting at. She shook her head. She didn’t want to hear it.

  “Now there are more people getting hurt—because of Alvarez and people like him. If people like you and me don’t stop him, who will?”

  “I can’t. I’m not the right person for this.” She searched Christy’s face for understanding, some sign that she knew Marybeth was right. But Christy only scowled.

  “Tell yourself whatever excuse you want, but you don’t believe it any more than I do.” With that, she turned and walked away.

  * * *

  CHRISTY

  At the safe house, Christy found Jeremy in the kitchen watching TV with a blank look. She didn’t even glance at it to see what he was watching, just slumped down into one of the chairs and buried her head in her arms.

  “What’s wrong?” Jeremy’s voice sounded tight. Christy looked up to see him watching her with a concerned expression.

  “Marybeth’s out. She doesn’t think she has what it takes to be a spy. She’s sending in her resignation tomorrow. She’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

  Jeremy sighed. “More bad news.”

  Christy sat up, alarmed. “What do you mean, more bad news?”

  He pointed up to the television, and Christy whirled. A photo of a young girl dominated the screen, and the closed caption read, “Local girl missing.” Christy recognized the face immediately—it was Carrie Belonio, Alvarez’s latest call girl.

  “No!” she gasped. She turned back to Jeremy, feeling cold. His face was grim. All she could think about was Bradley sprawled out dead on his porch. Had they terminated her like they’d terminated him?

  “She’s the one we followed. She’s the one I talked to yesterday. She’s dead because of me.”

  “Hold on. We don’t know that she’s dead. There could be another explanation.”

  “She talked about the app, and now she’s gone—just like Bradley. There’s no other explanation.”

  “Christy,” he said, his voice gentle. “You and I both know that’s flawed thinking. We caught this earlier on—we can find her. Come on, let’s get Ace in on this.”

  They moved into Ace’s tech cave, and Ace immediately began digging in to Carrie’s app activity.

  “She’s had no dates since the one with Alvarez—and now she’s deleted, it says ‘Terminated for nonresponse.’”

  “Carrie said they had to respond to date requests within a two-hour window or they’d be kicked off.” Christy bit the flesh on her thumb. All she could think about what that she had the chance to get Carrie out of there and she didn’t take it. Her reasons sounded flimsy to her now.

  “Hold on,” Ace said. “I found a tape of her leaving her home safely. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

  “Security footage?”

  “Yes.” He pulled it onto his larger screen so they could all see it better. Christy watched as Carrie got into her car and drove away. A noise pinged from another of Ace’s screens. “Ah, Christy, or rather Suzy Q, just got a date request. Would you like to accept?”

  Christy smiled briefly at that, but didn’t respond. It was absurd. Ace would simply refuse. She turned back to the tape of Carrie and played it again. She watched Carrie leave her house and drive out of her driveway and down the street until she was out of range, over and over again. Only on the fifth repeat did Christy notice the black sedan with a very familiar license plate
following her. Mitch Abernathy’s car. One of Senator Alvarez’s personal guards. His favorite, if she wasn’t mistaken.

  “Oh, my goodness, check out the car that followed Carrie.” Something shifted inside her, and dread followed.

  “That’s the sedan that took her home the other night,” Jeremy said.

  Christy’s hands shook. A vivid memory of the pictures on Bradley’s phone flashed into her mind. All the girls, getting into black sedans. Her heart lurched. “What if this wasn’t an isolated incident? Please check on the other girls who have gone out on a date with Alvarez.” Her mind wouldn’t clear. It felt muddy. The conclusions she was coming to had to be wrong.

  Ace started running searches. Christy paced the room anxiously while he worked. Nearly an hour later, her pacing was interrupted by a low curse from Ace. She whirled, crossing the room quickly to stand behind him. “What is it?”

  He pointed to the screen. Ten pictures of young girls tiled across the screen, “Missing” written under each one. “These are just in the last month. They’re from all over the country.”

  “What is going on?” Christy whispered, horrified.

  Jeremy placed a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, and his face mirrored the dismay she felt. All these girls—missing?

  Another ping came from the app—a second date request. “This guy really wants a date with you. Should I see who it is?” Ace asked, going for levity. Christy wasn’t in the mood.

  “Ignore it. We need to figure out how we’re going to help Carrie.”

  Ace moved to close the window, then drew in a startled breath. “You’re not going to believe this,” Ace said. “But it’s Senator Alvarez, MisterBig, who asked you on a date for tonight.”

  “Accept.”

  Chapter 13

  CHRISTY

  “And what?” Jeremy said. “You’ll tell him who you are once you get in a hotel room somewhere and interrogate him?” Disbelief rocked Jeremy’s tone.

  “Of course not. No. I’m going to be a call girl just like any other. The only difference is that the senator will be incapacitated during our date. I’ll need to get my hands on some helvan.”