by WL Knightly
“Yes, I would. I think it ended a while ago. I hated who she was, who I was becoming being married to her.” That was the first time he’d admitted that aloud.
“And that’s how it ended?” Stevie glanced up at him, her brows lifted in a quizzical look.
Darek stared at her legs, which were crossed, and smooth, and quite sexy. “She cheated,” he said.
Dr. Stafford met his eyes. “And I’m sure that was difficult to find out.”
He laughed. “It pissed me off. Because I’d been stupid enough to be faithful. I quickly slept with my partner. She’s new.” He felt the need to clarify since he’d told her all about his partner Max in previous sessions.
She kept a straight face and made more notes. “And has that affected your working relationship?”
“Now it has; it’s over.” Darek felt a burning pang in his chest, and while most of it was anger, he wished it could have been different.
As if sensing the change, Stevie leaned forward. “Did you want it to be over?”
“I wanted her to be honest with me. But she wasn’t, so there’s that. I don’t know if I can be her partner on the job, either. Trust is key, and when someone breaks it, it’s best if they part ways. It’s complicated though. I need her on my side to get a promotion, so I can’t rock the boat.” Much like he couldn’t rock the boat with the doctor in case she really wasn’t snitching to Bay, who seemed to know way too much about Darek’s condition and medications.
She paused her pen. “A promotion would be nice. Would that take you away from her? Perhaps the change will do you good.”
“It’s possible. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.” Another reason Darek couldn’t bring up Bay was the fact that he needed the promotion, and all it would take from Dr. Stafford was the desire to fuck him over, and his dreams of being in the FBI would be crushed.
“Good, at least you’re keeping a positive outlook.” She smiled and placed the tablet on her lap to pop her knuckles. “Is there anything else happening?”
“Other than being on one of the hardest cases of my career, I don’t know.” He looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath like he had more to say, but only because he didn’t want her asking about the case. To further deter her, he continued. “I engaged in a random sex act.” He knew this was just the thing she would like to jot down on her tablet.
Her eyes widened a bit, and he felt a bit of pride for managing to get a reaction out of her.
“That’s not like you, is it?” She looked up and met his eyes.
He gave a chuckle. “No, I mean, I don’t think I’m vanilla as some, but to do something like that? I don’t know; it was kind of fun.”
Stevie uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with a person exploring new things, especially sexually.” She had softened her voice a bit, and when he looked up, she was biting her lip. “Is that over too?”
He looked away and shifted in his seat. He hadn’t intended on anything ever happening with Stevie, and even though she was attractive in her own way, he just wasn’t into her. “Yeah, I mean, it was fun, but it wasn’t with anyone who would want anything more than sex.” He felt the need to steer things away from the three-letter word that Stevie might take as an invitation. He cleared his throat while he thought about it.
Luckily, she decided to do the task for him. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable, so we’ll just change the subject. How are things with your mother?”
“She’s good, healthy all but for her mind. She recognized me the other day. It was strange, being excited about something so natural as your mother remembering who you are, but I savored every second of it. I’ve missed her so much, and I often wonder if in a moment of clarity, does she miss me?”
Stevie tapped her pencil on the pad. “And do you ever think of your father?”
Darek had thought of his father some with the Zodiac murders taking him back to the time in his life when he’d met Bay Collins and the others. That horrible summer had been the reason his job was so hard lately, and with the things coming back to haunt him, he couldn’t help but think about him. Miss him, though? He answered with a single, soft-spoken word. “No.”
Darek went on answering more questions until their time was up. She made a few recommendations and then offered some refills on his medication. “I think we may need to up your dose, but I won’t at this time,” she said. “But, if the blackouts continue, or if they worsen, I want you to contact me immediately. Even if it’s just a slight thing, you’ll need to report that. And anytime you feel you might have missed time or drifted off, maybe you should mark it down. I know it’s not likely that you have time to journal, but carry a small tablet with you. I’ll give you one before you leave.”
“Thanks, but I don’ always realize what’s happened.”
“Just do your best. I’d like to see if there is a pattern. I’d like you to indicate your moods and see if there is some kind of trigger involved.” She had never used the word trigger before with him, and he wondered if it were a sign that things had progressed.
Darek didn’t like the sound of it. “If there is a trigger, then what? We avoid it?”
She got to her feet and put her tablet against her chest. “We can possibly re-diagnose you and adjust your meds.”
It had taken him long enough to get adjusted to the medications that he had been using, and it hadn’t been a pretty picture. He had been moody and withdrawn. If he was going to be in the FBI, he couldn’t have any serious mental health issues and nothing psychotic.
“Thank you, Dr. Stafford.” He got up and walked out, hoping that he hadn’t been walking the tightrope for nothing.
Chapter 3
Alan
Alan’s plane landed, but for some reason, the attendants weren’t letting them get off the plane. Instead, thirty angry passengers waited, their moods dampening by the minute. Alan was trying to keep his cool, but he hadn’t heard shit from the killer, and he wondered if they were already looking for him.
With he and Seth having business in New York, someone might have said something to the police, or perhaps he had been seen. There were possibilities, but he knew he needed to stop freaking out and keep calm until he had a concrete reason to panic.
Finally, a good forty-five minutes later, they allowed them to go and never gave a reason for the delay. He had tossed his overnight case, which didn’t hold more than a change of shorts and his toothbrush, in New York, so he didn’t have anything to carry out or claim. Throwing the right amount of money and the gold watch his father had given him had been a quick trade for a gun. He wondered if anyone would ever find it where he dropped it. With the way those planters looked, he was probably safe for a good twenty years.
He looked at his phone as he dug his keys out of his pocket and made his way to his truck, which he’d left in the parking lot.
As he got in and strapped on his seatbelt, he heard his phone vibrating in the seat next to him. It was his wife’s sister, Starla. He’d taken the one frantic call from her when she’d figured out Jamie wasn’t coming back anytime soon. She’d been nabbed from their house when she returned to get some clothes. Thankfully, it wasn’t the first time that Jamie had ditched her family and hauled ass, so Starla had no reason to call the cops and every reason to be worried.
Alan decided to go ahead and answer the call. “Yeah, Starla, what is it?”
“I’ve been trying to call you,” she said with her southern accent that was as thick as his sweet Jamie’s. Both of the sisters would always be Texas girls at heart, and thinking of Texas only made him think of Seth.
He let out a breath of frustration. “I was on a plane. I’m on my way back home.”
Starla made a growling sound to show her own frustration, and he was glad he wasn’t with her and close enough to bite. She had always been the hardest on him out of anyone else, and only because she had introduced him to her baby sister. “I swear, Alan if she don’t com
e back soon, I’m not going to keep lying to these kids. Rory is scared to death, and Dustin thinks that you both got abducted by aliens.”
“I’ll call them later, okay? Let me get the damned truck started, and I’ll be home soon.” He hung up the phone before she could say anything else and turned up the volume before tossing it into the seat beside him. He was going to lose his shit if that asshole didn’t message soon.
He had heard about all the killings and thought that it was just a New York City thing until the killer found their way to Vegas to take his sweet Jamie. He knew it had to be someone who knew what they’d done, but who? Only the Zodiacs knew about it, which was why they were dropping like flies. He had to be very careful that he wasn’t next.
As Alan thought about the past moves of the killer, and all the things that Bay and even Seth had been telling him, and how Seth even wanted out, to distance himself from the group, his phone sounded. It was a text notification, so as soon as he heard it, his pulse quickened. He closed his eyes and prayed as he picked up the phone, and when his eyes went to the screen, he breathed a sigh of relief. However, he knew that this victory had to be short-lived. His Jamie was still at their mercy, and he hurried to see what the message said.
It was an address with a message that she was there below. He hated to hear the word below. Did that mean she was in a basement somewhere? A shallow grave? With the fact that basements were practically unheard of in Vegas, he began to shake. He had a feeling that the fucking killer had done it on purpose, knowing how the vagueness was going to make him crazy.
He headed out toward the address and luckily knew where the street was. He wondered if he would face anyone down when he got there, and perhaps this was the end for him. But he had a gun under his seat in the truck, along with a club that he’d used to smash out a man’s back window once when he’d hit Starla outside a bar. Alan hated men who hit women, which some might say was a little hypocritical.
He left the highway for backroads and found himself in the neighborhood where the streets were crowded with cars parked on each side, and there were toys lining the walks. Just your average family neighborhood, and much like one he and Jamie might live in if he hadn’t inherited his father’s fortune and home. He turned down another long street, this one taking him to where the houses were farther apart, and then he saw the road he was looking for.
He took a right and searched the numbers on each mailbox. He knew he was getting close, and something caught his eye. The house didn’t look like anyone had lived in it for a while, and sure enough, as he got closer, he saw the faded numbers on the mailbox that matched the address from the text.
He couldn’t kill the truck fast enough and nearly choked himself with the seatbelt as he went to get out without taking it off. He finally got it off and realized he needed his gun. Once he had it in his hand, he made a much better, calmer effort to leave the truck, and as soon as his feet hit the ground, he ran to the door, slamming the truck’s door behind him.
He rattled the knob which was locked. Then he peeked under the mat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found a spare key. Then he hurried to unlock the house.
He pulled his gun out and walked inside, hoping he could get in and find Jamie and get her to safety before anyone came along. The house was secluded for the most part, down the street a good way from the others, and he decided while walking into the house that he better announce himself.
“Hello?” He didn’t know what to say and wondered if there was going to be anyone inside besides Jamie. No one said a word, and then he called out again. “Hello? Jamie, are you here? It’s me, Alan.”
He heard a banging noise from down below and ran down a long hall to the back of the house where he realized the house was built on a small hill. He looked down and saw that the Taurus symbol had been drawn in the dust, and he knew it was leading the way.
He opened the door and hurried out back and then down the stairs to the grassy backyard. He turned around and saw a lower level that could have been a guest room or perhaps storage, and when he opened the door, he noticed that both had been right. While the place looked like it could have at one time been used for a small guest room or rented apartment, it was full of junk that someone had needed locked up. The old lawn decorations and household items made the place look like a hoarder had lived there. “Jamie?”
He heard the muffled cries of his wife and headed toward the direction of her voice. He rounded some tall stacks of boxes and found her there, her eyes pinched tight and crying softly. She looked like she’d been through hell.
Alan rushed over and knelt down in front of her. She was emotional and filthy, sitting in piss-soaked jeans, but she was alive. He walked over to the makeshift kitchenette and found an old pair of scissors which he used to cut the cable ties that were holding her hands together in front of her. Both of her ankles were tied to the chair legs, and she’d been bound around the chest, just under her breasts so she couldn’t bend forward. When he released the last of the bindings, she fell forward into his arms.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she said in a quiet, trembling voice. “No energy.”
He brushed her blond hair away from her face and looked into her pretty blue eyes, so thankful that she was alive. “Here, let me get you some water.”
She’d been down there for about twenty-six hours by his calculations, but he hadn’t seen her in days. He went to the sink and found the water was still turned on. It wasn’t that long abandoned, which meant that someone might still be coming around.
He took a glass and filled it. “Here, drink this slowly.”
“I’m okay, just a little hoarse from the screaming. Where am I?” She had a nasty bump on the back of her head. “I was hit from behind, and I never got to see who did it. I woke up here.”
“You’ll be fine.” He was just glad she was safe.
But in all the relief, there were still matters to discuss and problems to solve. “Where the fuck am I?” She started to gain her strength, and soon, she was shaking as her voice rose. “You did this, didn’t you? You fucked around too long getting that money, and Benny made an example of me, didn’t he?”
He didn’t want to tell her that she was way off and thought it best to let her believe the lie. “Yeah, babe. I’m sorry. I’m such a fuck up, and I’ll never let anything like this happen again.”
“So your deal? It went through? And you paid Benny the money?”
“I have the money; it was put into our account early this morning. All I have to do is go and bring it to Benny later. Once we’re square, he’ll fuck off, okay? We’ll never have to worry about it again.” He pulled her into his arms.
“You mean until you fuck up and go gambling again. I’m not going to go home with you or let you around the kids with this kind of fucked up shit going on in your life. What if the kids had been with me? What then, huh? How long do you think that little Rory would have lasted down here? A day would kill her in her condition. Praise be I left you when I did, and she was safe at Starla’s. Fuck!” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes.
Alan’s own eyes filled with tears. “I’m never gambling again, baby. I swear.”
“Stop it, that sweet baby shit won’t get you anywhere with me this time, Alan. You’re going to have to get help before I ever let you back around me and the kids.”
He met her eyes and thought of all he’d done for her in the past twenty-four hours. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Jamie. I promise you.”
She sipped the water from the dirty glass and then tossed it on the floor. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
He scooped her up in his arms and ran all the way to the front with her. He opened the truck door, and she slid across the vinyl seats and collapsed against them in a flood of tears. She cried for miles toward their house, and when they finally got home, Alan took her hand and helped her out of the truck.
Once she got to her feet, she pushed away and stormed into the house, shouting back at him. “I�
��m getting what I came here for yesterday, and once I get myself cleaned up, I’m going back to Starla’s.”
“Fine, let’s go inside, and I’ll check the house.” He wanted her to feel safe.
“No, I’ll wait. You check it and then you can sit your sorry ass out here while I go in and take a shower.” She kicked off her flip-flops and then stripped out of her piss-soaked shorts.
“Did they touch you?” He hadn’t known how to ask but needed to know.
“No. But I’d sure like the dignity of a fucking bath if you could just go.” She pointed to the door.
“Okay. I’ll hurry.” He took off into the house, prepared to look it over with a fine-toothed comb if he had to. Downstairs was empty.
He walked all over the top floor, peeked inside every closet, and even checked out the attic for good measure. You couldn’t be too careful these days, and he didn’t trust that the killer wasn’t still somewhere close by, looking to take him out.
Alan came down the stairs and met up with Jamie who was all but naked at the front door. It wasn’t like they had any close neighbors. Their house was so far off the road, no one would hear a woman scream if she were being taken. Alan let out a long sigh. Shit. He should have been around. Instead, he’d gone to run a few errands and stopped by the office. He had made his way straight to the airport from there, and by the time he got the call, it was too late to turn around. He had to make the best call.
“It’s all yours.” He went to sit on the patio chair while she hurried inside. As the door slammed behind her, he knew how much it would take to make it up to her, and he was prepared to give it.
Chapter 4
Alan
Half an hour had passed, and Alan wasn’t sure he shouldn’t go inside and check on Jamie. He hadn’t known what to say or do but knew giving her the space she needed was most important.
As he examined the security keypad on the door, she came walking out onto the porch with a sandwich dangling from her hand in a baggie as she palmed a canned soda. “That thing did absolutely no good,” she said. “But then, I guess it figures. What’s that old saying? The cobbler’s children have no shoes, right? I suppose I shouldn’t expect a secure home.”
