Blind Rage

by Michael W. Sherer

He sighed. “I think you would have gotten more done without me.”

  Robyn shook her head. “We couldn’t possibly do without you, sir.” She blushed. “I mean, Travis.”

  Travis felt his own face get warm. “Thank you for saying so. You’re just being kind, but I promise I’ll have more focus tomorrow.”

  “Tess again?”

  “Among other things. But it’s not your problem. I’ll see you then.”

  Her smile broadened; it lit up his world. He felt better despite the memory of all that had gone wrong with the day.

  Less than half an hour later, he pulled into the garage at home. It still felt strange to call it that. It was no more his home than the huts they’d “borrowed” in Afghanistan for missions. A temporary place to lay his head, filled with other people’s things, reminders of their past lives. He had none of that, not even snapshots of the men he’d served with, fought with, killed for. He had a closet full of clothes in a guest bedroom in his brother’s house. As he let himself into the kitchen, Travis wondered if he would ever feel truly at home anywhere.

  Alice stood at the stove, cooking. The smell of onions, garlic, and spices made Travis’s stomach growl. He realized he hadn’t eaten lunch.

  “Smells great,” he said. “What is it?”

  Alice turned and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “Nothing fancy. The boys haven’t had a decent meal since they got here, I suspect. They’ve been ordering takeout all the time.”

  “You’d be surprised at how many of them can cook.”

  She shrugged. “Anyway, I’m making a big pot of spaghetti sauce. They can take most of it over to the guesthouse and leave the rest here for us.”

  “Good idea. Thanks, Alice.”

  She held his gaze. “We need a cook. Especially with all these mouths to feed.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “We’ll be more careful this time.”

  “I’ll put the word out tomorrow. Maybe even post something online tonight.”

  “Fine. Where’s Tess?”

  “In the library, studying.”

  “How did her day go?”

  Alice frowned. “Fine, I suppose. I haven’t heard a peep out of her.” She paused. “You know, she confides even less in me than she does you, Travis. She’s a teenager. What do you expect?”

  Travis shifted his weight. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  “Just let her know you’re there for her no matter what.”

  “She’ll never believe that. Not coming from me.”

  “She has a hard time believing that from anyone, Travis. She lost her parents. She doesn’t know who to trust.”

  Travis studied the stone tile in front of his feet and saw an entire mountain range in miniature in the waves of ridges weathered across its surface. When he finally looked up, Alice had turned back to the pot on the stove, her arm a piston that slowly drove a spoon in circles through the sauce inside.

  “How do you think this kid is working out?” he said.

  “Oliver?” She didn’t turn. “I think he’s just what she needs, but she doesn’t know it yet. She’s getting used to having him around, and I think he’s gaining her trust.”

  Travis considered her words silently.

  I’m the one who should be earning her trust, but maybe I missed my chance. It has been a year, and what have I done in that time to make her think I’m even sympathetic? Venture an occasional attempt at conversation when we’ve been together for meals?

  He’d been consumed by the task of learning James’s company inside and out, figuring out the best way to keep it afloat without its genius founder. He’d had no time for coddling a blind teenager.

  No, that’s not true; I haven’t made time to help my niece, my own flesh and blood, recover from a terrible loss. Two, in fact. Perhaps it isn’t too late to rectify my mistake. At least I can try.

  He left Alice at the stove and quickly strode down the long hall to the library. Tess and Oliver sat next to each other at the rectangular oak study table, Oliver’s chair turned at an angle toward her, his head bent over an open textbook. Oliver looked up when Travis stepped through the doorway, and Tess cocked her head in that curious way that indicated she was homing in on the location of the sound of his footsteps.

  “Hello, sir,” Oliver said.

  Travis nodded as he approached. “Oliver, could you please give us a minute?”

  Wordlessly, Oliver rose and rounded the end of the table, brushing past Travis on his way to the door. Travis waited until he heard the click of the door closing, then stepped toward the table.

  “Hey, there, how are you doing?” he said softly. “It’s me, Uncle Travis,” he added lamely.

  Tess rolled her eyes. “Duh. I’m okay. Why?”

  “No reason. Just thought I’d check up on you. I know things have been rough for you lately. Especially being there yesterday when that woman was shot.”

  “Helen,” Tess said. “Her name was Helen. You knew her, Uncle Travis. She wasn’t ‘that woman.’ What’s wrong with you?”

  Travis felt his shoulders bunch. He was handling this all wrong. “I’m sorry, Tess. You’re right. I did know her. Not very well, I’m afraid, since I’d been here only a few weeks when she left. But, yes, I knew who she was. I shouldn’t have referred to her that way.”

  He paused, but she sat in stony silence, arms folded across her chest. He forged ahead. “Look, Tess, I’m sorry about a lot of things. I haven’t been here for you since the accident. I’ve been so worried about your dad’s company and your future that I forgot about paying attention to your present, what’s going on for you here and now. I’m going to change that. I know I can’t replace what you’ve lost, but I want you to know that I really am here for you. I’m not trying to make your life miserable. I’m only trying to protect you.”

  Tess pressed her hands on the table and leaned forward. “By making me feel like a prisoner wherever I go?”

  “That’s not my intent, but until we know what’s going on, until we find out who’s behind the attacks on you, Alice, and Yoshi—and the one on Helen—you’re in real danger. And if anything happened to you, Tess, I’d never forgive myself. Besides, your father would kill me.”

  She fell back in her seat, hands still on the table. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  Her expression turned quizzical, but he moved on quickly before she could pursue the thought.

  “I brought you something.” He leaned over the table and put James’s cell phone next to her hand so it touched her fingers. “It’s your dad’s phone. You were right, Mr. Cooper had it.”

  Her fingers wrapped around its smooth surface and she squinted up at him. “Why?”

  “It’s a security precaution. Cyrus forgot he had it.” He paused. “Look, I know you miss him and your mom. But you’ve got to stop obsessing over him, Tess. He’s gone. No amount of wishful thinking will bring him back. I know you think he’s been e-mailing you, but it’s just not possible. I’m worried about you. I know how hard this is for you, but you’ve got to accept that they’re gone and move on.”

  She didn’t say anything. Travis straightened and looked around for words or some sort of direction on where to take the conversation next.

  “You and Oliver getting along okay?” he said.

  Tess shrugged. “He’s okay. At least he’s smart. Smart enough to help with homework.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” Travis glanced around the room again, but even with the vast number of books shelved on the walls for inspiration, he was at a loss for what to say. “Dinner in a little while. I saw Alice in the kitchen. Smells really good.”

  “Pasta. I know,” Tess said.

  “I have a few calls to make first, so I’ll see you there. And remember, Tess, if you need anything, anything at all, just tell me.”

  She flashed a wry smile. “I need Oliver to help me finish here.”

 
“You got it.”

  Oliver was leaning against the wall across the hall, arms folded and ankles crossed, when Travis emerged. He gave Travis a curious look, but said nothing when Travis nodded. He simply pushed off the wall and headed back into the library.

  Travis stopped in his office first. He needed to meet with Marcus and get a report on the day’s activities, and he wanted to get out of his suit and into comfortable clothes before dinner. But there was something that couldn’t wait. He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, pulled out the encrypted phone, and dialed.

  “It’s me,” he said when the general answered. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  “Talk to me, son,” Turnbull said.

  Travis told him about James’s phone and his conversation with Cooper.

  “Well, that sounds right,” Turnbull said when Travis finished. “He followed protocol.”

  “But he lied,” Travis said, “and I can’t figure out why.”

  “About what?”

  “How he got the phone. He said a team picked it up before the Range Rover was towed back from the mountains. It’s a crock. My guys stayed with that vehicle from the moment we found it after the avalanche.”

  “Are you sure? That was a long time ago, Travis.”

  “Positive, sir. You know what this means.” He paused, reluctant to voice the thought. “There’s someone else on the inside. It’s the only way Cyrus could have gotten the phone.”

  CHAPTER 37

  After dinner, Travis told me he thought it would be safe for me to go back to my apartment. Just in case, he had Red follow me in one of the big SUVs. They let me take the rental car—better than taking the bus. I found a place to park on the street about a block away from my apartment. Red waited in the street with the engine running, then drove me around the corner to my building. He double-parked and told me to stay in the car. He opened his door and swung one massive leg out. Before he got out, he turned his head toward me and held out his hand.

  “Give me your keys.”

  “What for?”

  “So I can check your apartment, kid. What do you think, I’m moving in?”

  I dug in my pocket and handed him the keys. He hit the flashers and ducked his head to get out. I craned my neck to watch him saunter down to the end of the block behind me and turn the corner. Headlights of cars slowly passing in the street glinted off the wet pavement. City sounds—the rush of traffic on a nearby arterial, the growl of a bus pulling away from a light, a distant siren—drifted in, muted by the closed windows. I pressed my fingers on the cold glass and felt it vibrate to the beat of the bass from a passing car’s subwoofer.

  My eyes flicked involuntarily toward any type of movement—a couple strolling, a man out walking his dog, tree branches waving in a puff of breeze. A long five minutes later that set my teeth on edge, Red popped back into view through the windshield, strolling up the block with his hands in his pockets. He glanced casually from side to side as if taking in the sights, softly whistling some unidentifiable tune to himself. He didn’t look in the direction of the SUV, and when he pulled abreast, he turned and skipped up the walk to the door of my building. He shoved the key in the lock, swung the door wide, and disappeared inside.

  I hopped out and darted up the walk behind him, dashing up the steps just in time to get a hand on the door before it swung shut and locked. I pushed it open wide enough to peer down the hall through the crack. At the far end, Red bent over with the key in one hand and peered at the door. I slipped through the front door and tiptoed down the hall silently. Red pocketed the key, pulled a large handgun out of the back of his waistband, and put his hand on the door. The sight of the splintered jamb next to the knob told me why he hadn’t bothered with the key. He cracked the door an inch. One of the floorboards creaked as I put my weight on it. Red turned his head and gaped at me.

  “What the hell are you doing here, kid?” he whispered. “I told you to wait in the vehicle.”

  “Got bored,” I whispered back.

  “Well stay the hell behind me, okay?”

  I nodded and crouched behind his bulk, peering over his shoulder as he opened the door. He pushed through the doorway with me on his heels, gun hand extended, panning the room in a smooth, fast arc.

  The place was trashed, the few belongings I had so scattered that it looked like a hoarder lived there. Whoever had done it was long gone, but Red stepped over to the small bathroom and swung the door open with the barrel of the gun to double check. It, too, was empty, but the contents of the medicine cabinet and the cupboard beneath the sink littered the floor.

  Red ambled into the middle of the room, his large frame filling it, and tucked the pistol back into his waistband. He righted the table and picked the TV up off the floor.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “I can clean up this mess.”

  “It’s okay, kid. I don’t mind. And it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than standing around in the dark waiting for something that ain’t likely gonna happen.”

  “You don’t think they’ll come after Tess again?” I crouched and stacked an armful of books.

  “They’d be pretty stupid to try an assault on the house again with no one on the inside, like that cook.” He joined me down near the floor, most of the remaining books within the arc of a simian arm. He scooped up half of them. “That doesn’t mean they won’t try somewhere else if they think she has what they want.”

  “What do they want?”

  He shrugged. “Not even Travis knows the answer to that one. But I bet he’s got some guesses.”

  I picked up the stack of books, tipped it sideways, and put it on a shelf. I’d rearrange them later, or maybe not at all.

  “Something to do with the company? MondoHard? A project?”

  Red nodded as he stood with a stack twice the size of mine in his arms. He squeezed each end with a meaty hand as if playing an accordion, and turned the stack sideways the way I had. He set the books gently on a shelf and stepped back to admire his work.

  “Not just any project,” he said. “The same one he’s been working on for the past year. The one he tested for his brother when he was still in Afghanistan.”

  “Some top-secret weapon?” I said lightly.

  His eyes bored into me, Blu-ray lasers reading me like a DVD. My smile vanished.

  “Yeah, something like that. The prototype helped him take out a terrorist cell.”

  I felt my eyebrows bump into my hairline. “Seriously? Wow, I didn’t know. So what’s his deal, anyway? He’s always so tense. I’ve never seen him lighten up, crack a smile.”

  He turned and hefted the mattress back onto the bed frame. “He takes his responsibilities seriously. That’s not an easy situation he walked into. This isn’t exactly what he signed up for.”

  “You knew him before?”

  “Before the accident? Not long, but yeah. I was part of the team assigned to protect the family. We all were—every last one of us. I was surprised to get the call after what happened a year ago, but Travis is loyal that way. I was a Navy SEAL, and I don’t think I’ve met a better man than Travis Barrett. That’s saying a lot.”

  I chewed on that for several minutes while I picked up slashed couch cushions and shoved stuffing back into them.

  “What happened, anyway?”

  He stopped what he was doing and straightened. “Don’t know for sure. The Barretts got caught in an avalanche, but Travis said he thought his brother could have avoided it. If James had braked, he might have missed it. Travis said it looked as if he gunned it instead, drove right into it. I thought somebody might have messed with the brakes. I told Travis to check, but I don’t know that he ever did. Maybe a cursory look, but it seemed like it didn’t matter one way or the other. He figured he’d failed at the one thing that meant as much to him as his career in the Special Forces—protecting his family. They were all he had. Now it’s down to his niece. And I know it eats him alive every day to think that he could have done
something to prevent her from going blind.”

  “I think she’s afraid of him,” I said quietly. “If he cares that much, you might let him know he should cut her some slack. Maybe just act human around her.”

  “Not my place,” he said. A beat later he added, “But I’ll mention it if I get a chance.”

  Red ran out of steam, and for the moment I’d run out of questions. He’d given me plenty to think about—not least of which was why Marcus might have been underneath the Range Rover that morning.

  We finished picking up most of the mess, and Red turned to go. He pointed to the broken door. “You should get this fixed.”

  I sighed. “Landlord won’t be happy. He’ll make me pay. Deadbolt still works, at least.”

  “Send the bill to Travis.” He saw my surprise. “I’m not kidding. He should pay for it, not you. You were keeping Tess safe. Props, by the way. Travis briefed us on what you did.”

  “Thanks.” I shifted my weight. “I mean, it wasn’t much. I just got her the heck out.”

  “While you were under fire. Not too many people could keep their cool in that situation.”

  Now I felt a flush rising up my neck. “Yeah, well . . . ” I didn’t know what to say.

  He smacked me lightly on the shoulder with his fist, a meat tenderizer softening up a roast before throwing it in the oven. I willed myself not to rub it.

  “Hang in there, kid. You’re okay.”

  A smile spread across his broad face, squinching his face under the bushy red brows until his freckles melted together. And then he was gone, leaving me standing there like a tornado victim, numbed and violated.

  The rational side of my brain said the men who had searched my apartment wouldn’t be back. I propped a chair against the door anyway and managed some restless sleep before waking for good sometime near dawn. I showered, dressed, and drove back across the lake to Tess’s house ahead of the morning commuters.

  She said little at breakfast and seemed out of sorts. I stayed out of range and let her sulk. When it came time to leave for school, she hemmed and hawed with excuses about why she couldn’t and shouldn’t have to go. Alice made it clear she didn’t have a choice, so she reluctantly let me lead her out to the car. Kenny and Luis were on tap to shadow us. Once I finally herded Tess into the car, we convoyed to school.