In My Heart (The Mile High Club)

by Powers, Jade

  “I’d like to test the sphere and the receiver together today,” Tom said. He felt his face flush when Lee gave him a penetrating look. He forced his hands to remain steady while he used his code on the safe.

  He stood back, forcing a smile and waiting expectantly for Lee. They both had to enter the code. Tom felt awkward. He knew he wasn’t acting like his normal self. This had to work. He had to make it through today. It sucked that Lee would be under the same suspicion as Tom when the sphere went missing. Tom would be delivering the sphere in Miami. Lee would be left trying to explain to their superiors what happened.

  Lee wore his long hair in a pony tail. He joked that it was his one rebellion. A brilliant technician, Lee cracked the interface between mind and machine three months before. The sphere was his baby as much as anyone’s. He knelt in front of the safe, his voice low, “You sure about this?”

  It was as if he knew what was going down. Tom said, “About what? It’s just a few tests.”

  Lee shrugged. He looked over his shoulder at the camera. As he turned the numbers, he lowered his voice even further, “Are you in trouble, man?”

  Tom’s throat felt like dust. He swallowed hard, “I’m fine. Didn’t get much sleep last night, though.”

  All of which was true. Somehow Lee knew something was up. If he found out, Bryce was dead. Tom hoped he was convincing. Lee removed a small wooden box from the second shelf of the safe and handed it to Tom. He said, “You know I’m with you, no matter what.”

  It was an invitation to talk. Tom started thinking through his conversation with Sven. Could he have given something away? Maybe Sven put Lee on watch. Maybe he was digging to find out why Tom was acting weird. He couldn’t trust anyone, not with listening devices everywhere.

  Tom took the box and said, “Thanks. You know I’m with you, too.”

  It was the right thing to say. Lee grinned and returned to his desk, leaving Tom to think that his imagination was borderline paranoid.

  Logging onto the system, Tom pushed open the CD player and slid his hacker CD into the computer. He plugged in his headphones and accessed his music database. Nothing new here, except that with the music, he unleashed the script, a computer virus designed to impact the lab’s power. He had to time everything just right.

  Opening the wooden box, Tom carefully lifted out the dragon statuette. On the bottom was a tiny lock. He rapidly pushed a series of numbers and the dragon opened, two sides splitting to reveal a sphere. The dragon was Lee’s contribution. He was a big D & D fan and had it custom-made. It was quite a hit. Tom bought a couple for his own personal collection.

  Tom plugged a cable from the sphere into his computer. The company had designed its own card with a unique connector. Lose the cable and the sphere was worthless, a problem with the prototype, but it also protected the company if the sphere fell into the wrong hands, which was inevitably going to happen if Bryce’s kidnappers got their way.

  Tom set up the screen, running diagnostics as he would on any day that he experimented with the sphere. The power to the lab flickered. He immediately set his second script into motion. The code infiltrated the sphere, shutting off the tracking program and then shutting off the program that monitored tracking while ensuring that anyone running diagnostics would get a result that indicated tracking was on. His program also told the user that the sphere was in the lab, the most likely place anyone would test the diagnostics.

  He ran the diagnostics again. The sphere was compromised. Unplugging the sphere, Tom removed the cable. He slid it back into the dragon and clicked it into place. Carefully lowering it to the wooden box, Tom breathed a sigh of relief. He was in the clear.

  Unless anyone removed the sphere and specifically checked the tracking program, Tom could later remove the sphere from the lab without anyone being able to track it. He glanced over his shoulder at Lee. Lee was focused hard core on his own computer. Tom thought about taking the box home tonight.

  “Get the diagnostics done?” Lee asked. There was something about the question. Lee knew. Tom would swear that Lee knew something was up. They would dance around the knowledge until Tom stole the sphere, then Lee would give him up to Sven. His life would be over.

  But Bryce would be alive.

  Either way, Tom couldn’t take the sphere tonight. Not with Lee sitting there acting weird. There was a secondary program tied to the door sensors that Tom needed to shut down. And he needed practice stealing. If he didn’t get the sphere out of the lab, it was no good getting it into his coat.

  No, this was only the first step. Even Bryce’s kidnappers understood that. Tom couldn’t force the issue to get Bryce home earlier or he would lose his son altogether.

  The phone to the lab rang. Tom felt a little dizzy and found that he had to sit down. At the third ring, Lee asked, “Are you going to answer that?”

  Tom was currently sitting at the desk with the ringing phone. He grabbed the receiver, “AIT research lab.”

  “Your son is alive.”

  “May I speak with him?” Tom hated the grating sound of his own voice begging. He used to be tough. A wife and two kids later, and now he rolled over at the first sign of trouble.

  “Not until the sphere is safely in our possession. Did Lee do anything to prevent your access?” It was such a simple question, asked with implied innocence, and yet so sinister. The kidnapper used Lee’s name. He must know that Tom needed Lee’s help. That wasn’t a detail Tom had ever shared.

  Tom said, “No. He helped one hundred percent. Why?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about. We’ll keep in touch.”

  The phone went dead. Lee’s back was turned and his head down as he worked on the biological fiber for cranial circuit interface. “Lee, you asked me if I was in trouble. Are you?”

  Lee’s head stayed bent. The change in breathing, that sudden intake was the only thing that told Tom that Lee had heard him.

  “Someone threatened my family,” Lee said. He mumbled and grabbed his magnifier to check the minutia of his work.

  “Lee, you’re not going to tell anyone, right? I mean besides me,” Tom said. His existence never felt so precarious. It was strange. There was a time when his son didn’t exist, that time before he was born, and then everything changed, and he had a tiny human to watch over. That human, bigger now, meant everything.

  “No. What about you?” Lee asked.

  “That’s your business. I won’t tell a soul.” Tom said, deliberately misunderstanding.

  “Tom, I know they’ve got something on all of us. What did they say to you?” Lee still wouldn’t look at Tom.

  Tom couldn’t trust anyone until his son was back. He wouldn’t lie to Lee, but he wouldn’t tell him why. He couldn’t. The walls had ears.

  He said, “Lee. Don’t get in my way. I can’t tell you why, but please just don’t. You’ll know why when it’s all over.”

  Lee nodded. Tom found himself worrying on multiple fronts. Even if Bryce survived the kidnapping, Lee was loyal to Drake and Sven. At some point, he might decide that those loyalties were worth more than his friendship with Tom.

  Tom had enough reason to distrust people. Feeling tension tighten his shoulders, Tom said, “Thanks.”

  Chapter 11

  JOE RETURNED TO MINKA’S office the next morning, parking a few streets down from the office building where she worked. The little coffee shop across the street from the parking lot provided a good view and concealment. He almost walked in when he glanced in the window. Minka was already inside the coffee shop with that neighbor.

  Reeling away from the shop, Joe burned with jealousy. It was a bright day outside, and the coffee shop was full, otherwise he might have confronted Minka and that bastard. He had to pick up a load in Spokane, drop in Seattle and then pick up another load destined for Los Angeles. Assault charges would cost him the run. Clenching his fists he stalked away, certain that Minka had been cheating on him the whole time they were together.

  A brief memory
of cheating with Candy stirred his anger. He thought he had fooled Minka. Maybe she had been fooling him all along.

  Joe stopped at The Victorian Charm flower shop.

  He nearly turned back at the threshold, but a handsome woman, slightly older, maybe late forties, stepped around the counter. She had raven hair and blue eyes with her hair teased as a throw-back to the eighties. Natural beauty made up for her aged fashion.

  “May I help you?” Her voice was husky, welcoming. Joe wondered why Minka couldn’t sound like that.

  “Flowers for my girlfriend. We had a huge fight. I need something that says I’m sorry.”

  “Does she have any favorites?” When she leaned down, her blouse opened a little more at the top. She wore a black bra. Her skin was smooth.

  Joe struggled to meet her eyes. He shrugged, “Not really.”

  He always hated buying flowers for Minka. They were such a waste of money.

  “You can never go wrong with roses.”

  When Joe heard the price, he almost walked out of the store. He liked flirting with the raven-haired beauty working the flower shop, otherwise, he might have given up the idea.

  His message would be part apology, part warning. Lilypad, he can’t love you like I can. Let’s go back to how things were. He would sign the card from his brother, but the message was all Joe. Lilypad was another nickname for her. Minka would understand both the apology and warning in that message.

  He ground his teeth at the price for twelve red roses. She’d better appreciate what he was doing to win her back. He slipped the card into the envelope, sealed it, and handed it back. “Please make sure this is part of today’s afternoon deliveries.”

  Joe wanted to be there.

  A dozen red roses arrived at the office early in the afternoon for Minka. She eagerly opened the envelope thinking of Sven.

  “That new fellow of yours?” Alice asked. Alice wore glasses. Her hair was graying all over, and she was a few pounds overweight. Nonetheless, she brought a light to the world that physical attributes couldn’t diminish.

  Minka’s grin vanished. She shoved the card back in the envelope and picked up the arrangement, vase and all. She said one word. “Joe.”

  The flowers frightened Minka. Not just fear over what Joe would do, but fear that she would lose Sven if he found out that someone else was sending flowers. Minka had to remind herself that Sven wasn’t like Joe, that he wouldn’t find fault with every little thing, that he was reasonable. She had to rebuild her trust, but first, Minka had to dump those flowers and fast.

  Alice said, “I’m sorry. Why not give it to the police as proof that he broke the restraining order?”

  Minka shook her head, “The card is signed, ‘Ted’. That was Joe’s older brother. I can’t prove that he sent them to me, except that he used my nickname. Joe will just say his brother was playing a joke and didn’t know we had split.”

  “You need to tell someone. He’s becoming obsessive,” Alice put her hands on her hips and looked just like a grandmother scolding a child.

  “I know. I just want it to end. If it happens again, I’ll call the police. I know just what to do with these.” Minka put on her coat and walked outside. She wasn’t going to keep bitter reminders any longer than she had to, even if it meant dumping the flowers herself instead of waiting for the janitorial staff to come through the office to empty the garbage cans.

  He’d been following her every chance he got. Minka suspected Joe was making fewer long hauls just so that he could spy on her. She didn’t dare scan the parking lot. If he was there, she would send a message that Joe wouldn’t forget.

  Joe waited in his car, hoping to catch a glimpse of Minka. Minka would put the flowers in the car, save them for later. She always caved after a nice set of flowers. Maybe she would come out and talk to him.

  Minka did leave the building, barely three minutes after the flower delivery van pulled out of the parking lot. Joe watched Minka walk the flowers to the dumpster outside her office and toss them without a single nod in his direction. They cost good money and the bitch threw them away. His anger cooled into brittle hatred.

  Joe jumped out of his car and ran across the parking lot. He yelled, “Minka!”

  She started just like a rabbit about to be eaten. Instead of facing him like a real woman, she ran inside, the coward. Joe grabbed the handle to the door. In the darkened glass, he could see her disappear around the corner.

  Damn it.

  She would be surrounded by her stupid coworkers. They’d believe anything Minka said and back her no matter what. Turning on his heel, Joe stalked away. He put a hand in his jacket to grab his key ring and felt his pocket knife instead. That gave him an idea.

  Joe dropped into a crouch and worked his way to Minka’s car. He did a quick check of the parking lot. No one around. He slashed the first tire. It felt cathartic to get those feelings of rage out.

  Minka would know it was Joe, even if he protested innocence. She might even call the police and make a complaint. Joe would be on the road by then. Maybe he’d start his log book a few hours early, just for proof that he was nowhere near Minka’s work.

  Keeping his head low, he slashed the rest of the tires. Ducking and dodging his way back to his car, Joe opened the driver-side door while still staying down. He sped away, sorry that he couldn’t be across the street watching when Minka’s day ended. It would be perfect. Almost dark, Minka might not even bother to check what was wrong. Minka might even ruin her rims.

  The start of Minka’s day had been wonderful. She and Sven had shared a coffee and a pair of Danish pastries at Mary’s Coffee House. From there, it devolved, first with the flowers and now with the slashed tires. She knew it was Joe.

  Minka didn’t call Sven. She didn’t want their relationship to be based on her asking him for help with her ex all the time. Instead, she went back inside. Alice would still be locking up.

  “Alice?” Minka poked her head through the door to the darkened office. Alice was probably walking around in the dark. She knew her way around that place.

  “Over here,” Alice called from her desk. She was just grabbing her coat.

  “My tires are all flat,” Minka said. She moved her purse from one shoulder to the other, “Do you mind if I turn the lights back on?”

  “Go for it. What are you going to do?”

  Minka flooded the room with light. Alice was in her coat and had just pulled the gloves out of her pocket. Pulling the phone book out of the community drawer where they kept it, Minka flipped to towing services.

  “I’ll have it towed to the nearest tire shop.”

  “I’m staying with you. Your ex may be setting you up.”

  “He’s just mad because I threw away his flowers. He’ll get over it,” Minka said. She cringed as soon as she realized that the last time she’d told Alice that Joe would get over something, he had thrown her against the sofa, holding her head against the cushion until she apologized.

  Alice left the reminder unspoken. “The tow truck shouldn’t take too long to arrive, anyway. I’ll just catch up on a few things and then drop you at the tire center.”

  While Minka phoned the tow service, Alice filed the stack of folders she had saved for the morning. They walked into the chilly air together to wait. Shivering, Minka wrapped her arms around herself. Her coat wasn’t heavy enough. She would just have to make do.

  Slowly the parking lot emptied. Forty-five minutes later, the tow truck arrived. By then Minka’s hands had gone numb. She stamped her feet, the air so cold, her breath came out foggy.

  Chapter 12

  JOE OBSESSED ABOUT Minka all the way down 84, stopping for gas and a burger in the middle of the desert between big cities. Minka’s behavior wasn’t what he expected. She should have crawled back to him a long time ago. It was that neighbor. He protected her, made her feel like there were other options besides Joe. After four hours on the road, Joe finally came to the conclusion that Minka had truly left him.

>   Finishing up his fries, Joe noticed a woman out in the piddle park with one of those little fluff balls on a leash. Minka had a Yorkie. The dog stayed with Minka’s mother in Eatonville. Smiling, Joe threw his empty fry box in the bag. Minka would pay for dismissing him.

  It was the longest trip he had driven. Not in miles or time, but in anticipation. On his way back, he picked up a load in Portland destined for a warehouse in Kent. He rolled in past receiving hours which worked out fine for him. Normally the closures at three-thirty drove him crazy. Everyone else stayed open until five. Why not the warehouse? But today, it worked to his benefit. He rolled in at four, parked his semi, and walked to the gas station with a duffel bag. Inside the duffel he’d stuffed a heavy black garbage bag.

  He called a rental car company and rented a car for the evening. He could make it to Eatonville, kill the dog, and be back in Seattle before evening. It was a shame Minka couldn’t know she was being punished. He could drop it on Minka’s doorstep. She would know it was him, would probably tell the police, but he would have an alibi. He’d check into a hotel in Kent. Tell the detectives he wanted a real bed, that he’d been having trouble sleeping in the cab. That would explain why he looked so bad.

  Expensive alibi, but Joe could pull it off.

  He parked out of camera range and checked into the hotel, taking the elevator to his room, even though there were only three flights of stairs. He left the key to the room on the table. He wouldn’t bother coming back. He just needed to show that he checked in. On the way out, he took the stairs and avoided the cameras.

  Joe drove ninety, enjoying the thrill of those large curves with the dangerous sensation that he might fly off the road at any time. Remembering that getting caught would place him at the scene, Joe finally slowed down to a reasonable pace as he passed North Bend.

  Joe daydreamed about kicking down the door and slapping Minka’s mom a bit. That woman. This was all her fault. If she had raised Minka to be a one-man woman, Minka wouldn’t be hanging off of some stranger’s arm.