by Leah Wilde
“The mall closed, like, ten minutes ago,” Gage said as he checked his watch. “We’ll have to go by tomorrow to see if we can find him.”
“Shit,” Fiona groaned, sighing deeply before standing up to pour herself another glass of scotch.
“You know you’re supposed to drink that slowly, right, savor the taste?” Gage couldn’t stop himself from saying.
“Fuck off,” Fiona said as she continued to sip at the dark brown liquid. Gage had to smile a little at that. He missed being told off by Fiona, hearing her cuss at him at the drop of a hat. Somehow, she was all things, all the time: fragile, weak, strong, and a badass, all at once.
They were both quiet for a minute. Gage watched Fiona’s face became scrunched-up as she concentrated, staring down at Tori’s diary, looking at a page next to her last entry where she’d drawn hearts, large and small, from the top of the page to the very bottom. She’s so young, Gage thought wistfully, thinking about Abby, how she used to talk about the boys she had crushes on in middle school.
Suddenly, he felt energized, his blood pumping harder in his veins as he thought about his sister, about Tori, and about the other nameless, faceless girls that The Knife had taken away. All those women—whose lives had been absolutely erased, whose identities were traded in for the all-encompassing label of “murder victim”—all of those stories, lost forever.
Not this time, Gage thought to himself, balling up his hands into fists and digging his nails sharply into the sensitive skin of his palms. Not this time. Not these girls. They will get to live. They will get to be people, just like Fiona.
Except Fiona wasn’t exactly doing okay either. He could tell just from looking at her, the way she pulled at her hair, that she was coming out of her skin. It was like she had too much energy inside of her and nowhere to put it. She couldn’t move forward with her discovery given that the mall was closed and there was no way they could figure out who the man was that flirted with Tori.
“Her cell records,” Fiona finally said a minute later. “Call her parents; get the cell records. We can see if she texted or called a number the day she was taken.”
“Oh, that’s good. That’s a great idea!” Gage said, but then a minute later, he saw another path. “There’s another way, you know—to get the cell records faster.”
“What is it?” Fiona asked, her eyes alight with a fire that Gage hadn’t seen in years. It made him scared and excited all at once, seeing that flame within Fiona, that old spark that she had, the desire to save someone burning inside of her like a bright hot sun.
“Jack, from the Bandits. He works at a phone company, has connects with others. I could talk to him to ask if he can trace the calls. She has her phone number written down on the front of her diary, on the first page. Look,” he said, leaning over Fiona to flip the diary back to the first page, brushing their shoulders together in the process. Tori’s number was written there, in bright pink ink.
“The Bandits…” Fiona murmured, pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Gage asked, confused as to why she suddenly seemed so much more anxious than she had mere seconds before.
“It’s nothing, nothing,” Fiona said, shaking her head, but then a second later, she opened her mouth to speak again. “It’s just…I haven’t seen them in so long. The guys there, in your club.”
Ah, she’s nervous about seeing my friends again, Gage concluded to himself. He’d been a member of the Bandits since he was a teenager, since before Abby was killed, even. They were his second family, the only people he could trust in the world. And they’d been upset when Fiona dumped him over a year before. Honestly, Fiona had some good reasons to be nervous. They were protective over Gage, judging all the women he dated in the past year as harshly as possible, but in all honesty, they had loved Fiona, too, accepted her as one of their own, even though she didn’t participate in the MC’s activities.
“It’ll be okay,” Gage said. “I won’t leave your side.”
Fiona smiled a little at that, but it was without humor or lightness. “I think that might cause more problems than it solves. They’ll think…they’ll think we’re…”
“Together?” Gage supplied, and Fiona grimaced but nodded. Gage felt something fall apart in his chest—breaking into pieces like a fragile fruit—at the way her face fell at the idea of someone thinking they were together. Goddammit, that hurt like a bitch.
Suck it up, he told himself. She’s not your girlfriend anymore. She doesn’t want to be your girlfriend. He repeated the words to himself, like if he said them enough times, even internally, they’d sink in and feel more like the truth. But despite everything, there was another little voice in his head, small and weak but persistent, that kept whispering, She doesn’t want you yet. But that doesn’t mean you can’t try. A man’s got to fight for what he wants. You should know that better than almost anybody.
“It’ll be alright. I’ll make sure they don’t bother you,” he said, walking over to the other side of the room to slip his jacket on. “Come on, let’s go. We can bring the diary with us and read up on the subway ride over.”
Fiona sighed deeply but nodded and followed him across the room, buttoning her sweater up to protect herself against the winter chill outside. “Just don’t want to get into any bar fights,” she said with a small, forced laugh. Gage could always tell when she was really laughing and when she was faking it. This was definitely the latter.
The subway stop was a few blocks from Gage’s house, and they walked side by side on the sidewalk, both of them with their arms crossed to avoid touching hands, even though Gage wouldn’t mind touching her right about now, considering they were out in the cold, freezing their noses off. Years ago, when it got this cold in the city, he would grab Fiona’s hand and put it in his pocket, keeping it safe and warm and protected. He wished he could do that now.
“I’m not sure my metro card still works,” Fiona murmured, digging around in her purse as they approached the subway station. “Might have to get a temporary one.”
“I still have one of your old ones,” Gage said without thinking, not considering how creepy that might come across until he’d already said it. Well, it was too late to take it back, even though Fiona was looking at him strangely, like he’d just started speaking another language. “I keep it in my wallet. Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket to give her a card that he knew worked. Sometimes, he’d use it to get on the train, sitting down in a corner spot where nobody would sit next to him, so that he could pretend he was with Fiona. Such a fucking pathetic, sad, little bitch, he thought to himself. So weak. Move on already, he thought. But it wasn’t that easy.
A minute later, Gage and Fiona stepped onto the train that would take them deeper into downtown, near the docks, where the mall was as well as the Bandits’ clubhouse. There was only one seat left on the car they’d stepped into, so Gage gestured for Fiona to sit and grabbed one of the poles that hung down from the ceiling for passengers to grab onto when the train was overcrowded. But Fiona, ever the stubborn fighter, just shook her head and grabbed onto the pole as well. An inch of empty space separated their hands, both gripped around the pole.
“Um, so all the gang is still there?” Fiona asked, swaying a little back and forth as the train lurched into motion.
“Pretty much,” Gage responded. “Still doing all the same business.”
Fiona nodded but didn’t say anything, staring off into space, over Gage’s shoulder. “So there’s two missing,” she whispered.
“Yeah, one other girl is presumed dead by the police. We don’t know her name. Her parents wanted to keep it out of the papers.”
Fiona flinched a little, her eyebrows furrowing together. “That’s a little suspicious, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?” Gage asked.
“Well, if you were a parent, wouldn’t you stop at nothing to find your daughter? Maybe if they released her name, somebody who knew her, who
knew that a creepy guy was hanging around her, would help them lead us to the killer. It’s just fishy, that’s all,” Fiona said in a rush, pausing to breathe for a second before speaking again. “I think we need to start coming up with a suspect list. People to check out, people to keep watch on. We need to figure out who the missing girl is and look into her father. And Mr. Greenwood, too.”
“Mr. Greenwood?” Gage asked, wanting to spur her thoughts to keep her analysis going. This was the side of Fiona that he needed for work, the side that looked at a situation from an entirely different angle than Gage. She was able to see things that he couldn’t, feel things that were beyond him. She was smarter than him, really. That’s what it came down to. He needed her mind.
“Tori mentioned having fights with him in a few entries,” she explained, having apparently skimmed several diary entries that she hadn’t read thoroughly. “It’s probably nothing, but we’ve got to look into it. I see stuff like this all the time nowadays. There’s a lot of domestic violence out there.”
Gage nodded, even though, personally, he didn’t feel like there was anything suspicious about Mr. Greenwood. Why would he come to a P.I. about his daughter if he was responsible for her death? She’s not dead yet, he corrected himself internally. There’s still hope. We can still find her.
Gage and Fiona got off at the stop nearest the clubhouse, and he began leading the way, even though Fiona probably remembered the path from the train stop. “We’ll get my guy, Jack, on this right away,” he said reassuringly. “We’ll be able to see if Tori was complaining a lot to her friends about her dad, too. We should be able to tell if there was any violence in the house.”
“You can read people’s text messages?” Fiona asked.
“Uh, well, Jack can,” Gage said, keeping his voice low so that bystanders couldn’t hear him.
But Fiona’s voice only got louder as her disbelief grew. “Is he in the fucking FBI or something?”
Damn, she’s smart, Gage thought, and he didn’t know why he felt surprised. She was never slow to pick up on things he tried to hide. “I can’t answer that,” he said with a laugh, looking over his shoulder to smile at Fiona, who returned his grin for the briefest second before it faded away. Gage savored that smile, locked it up in his brain so he could look back on it later.
“Here we are,” Fiona said under her breath as they approached the clubhouse. Gage walked up to the back entrance, knocking on the door three times in quick succession.
“Yo, it’s Gage, open up!” he shouted, knocking a few more times until the door finally swung open.
“Hold your damn horses, Gage, damn,” a woman said, scowling down at him until her eyes flicked over to Fiona, confusion playing over the woman’s face for a second before it was replaced by recognition. “Fiona, hey, girl, what are you doing here?” She shouted, quickly jumping out of the clubhouse and colliding into Fiona, smashing her into a hug. Gage saw Fiona’s expression change from fear to resignation as she slowly returned the hug, patting the woman on her back slowly.
“Hey, Gwen,” Fiona said, apparently remembering the woman’s name, even though, as far as Gage could remember, they’d only spoken a few times in the past, well over a year ago.
“Where have you been, girl? We’ve been missing you so much,” Gwen said, still clasping Fiona to her body as if they were best friends. “Come on, let’s get a drink, huh?”
Gage was tempted to make a comment about Fiona having already had enough to drink tonight, but he bit his tongue. He didn’t want to embarrass Fiona in front of the MC crew. Throughout their relationship, Fiona mostly avoided coming to the clubhouse. They never really discussed it, but Gage got the sense that she was uncomfortable hanging around the MC. Maybe she didn’t trust them or thought they were criminals. But to be fair, Fiona didn’t like most people. She kept a very small social circle, only trusting a handful of people at a time.
Gwen ushered them inside the clubhouse, and only a few seconds passed before several members noticed them, slamming their drinks down and yelling at Fiona to come over. Gage had to suppress a grin; no matter how standoffish Fiona was, the club always accepted her, always wanted her to be a part of the family.
Fiona waved him over a second before a crowd of MC members could drag her into a drinking game. “Get the information from Jack, okay?” she instructed him before plastering on an inauthentic smile, performing for the club members. Gage made a mental note for apologize to her later for dragging her along. Really, he knew he shouldn’t have done this. Too many people overwhelmed Fiona, and sometimes, when she was in large crowds, she would have anxiety attacks, needing to run outside to get fresh air before she could breathe normally. Maybe that’s why she likes being out there in the country, Gage thought. All those open spaces must be good for her.
He tried to dislodge that thought from his brain. It was no good wasting time feeling jealous of her new life. Fiona was here now, in his grasp. He had to make good use of this time while he still had the chance. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he said to Fiona before walking off to find Jack. He felt a little guilty for leaving Fiona alone. He knew she was tough, that she could handle anything, but at the same time, she was often very nervous, very easily overwhelmed. As he turned his head to give Fiona one last, reassuring look as he walked away, he thought to himself, I’ll take care of you, baby. I promise.
Chapter Six
“So are you and Gage…” Gwen trailed off, but Fiona knew what she was trying to ask. She slowly downed her shot, letting it linger in her mouth before swallowing it, if only to give herself extra time before answering the dreaded question.
“No. No, we’re not,” Fiona said with a polite smile, and she could tell that various club members were listening in on their conversation despite the hoots and hollers of the bikers around her. “I’m just here for a work thing, you know, helping Gage with a case. I’m engaged now, actually,” she said, gesturing to the ring that she carried on her left hand.
“Oh, wow, congratulations!” Gwen said, but Fiona could tell that she was caught off guard, expecting an entirely different answer. “Who is he? Where’d you meet him? What’s he do? Is he here in town?”
Fiona laughed, unsure of which question to tackle first. “Um, his name is Carl, Carl Yonkers. We met at a barbecue a coworker of mine was throwing, and we just hit it off. He’s an accountant, but I don’t really understand any of the work he does,” she said with an awkward chuckle. It felt weird, describing her new relationship to someone from her old life. She wanted to keep the two spheres as separate as possible, not allowing them to interfere with each other. It’s not like Gwen could possibly do anything to mess that distinction up, but still, it was uncomfortable for Fiona to even acknowledge her other, cleaner, easier life when she was mired in the city business.
“Sounds like a great catch,” Gwen said before drinking her own shot. Fiona could tell from the flat, wooden way she said it that Gwen didn’t really mean it. She was an MC girl, through and through, somebody who’d been hanging around the bikers since she was a teenager. She was what Fiona should have been like, honestly, obsessed with hard, tough men with tattoos. But Fiona needed something different nowadays. She needed something stable, something easy, something simple and safe. At least, that’s what she told herself.
Fiona felt her skin start crawling a little, the vast number of sweaty, drunk, swaying bodies surrounding her making her more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. “Um, I’m going to go mingle a little bit. I’ll talk to you later!” Fiona said, shoving her way through the crowd of bodies to get to relatively fresher air in the center of the room. She thought she heard Gwen shout something after her, probably trying to tell her to wait up, but Fiona ignored it, plunging forward until she saw Gage on the opposite side of the room, his head bowed as he talked to a man that Fiona only vaguely recognized.
By the time Fiona crossed the room, diving in between little pockets of people talking to each other, the other man ha
d left, heading out of the building, while Gage just stood there by himself, sipping on a beer. “What’s up?” Fiona asked, ignoring the sweet, familiar half-smile that Gage gave her as soon as she stepped in front of him.
“Hey, talked to Jack. Gave him our girl’s number. He should have the information for us in a couple of days.”
“Just like that?” Fiona asked. It was a little scary how easy it was to invade a young girl’s privacy.
Gage just shrugged. “I had to call in a favor, but yeah, we’ll be on our way soon enough. I told him to rush it, so maybe we’ll learn who she was talking to by tomorrow.”
Fiona nodded, her thoughts a million miles away.
“What’s wrong?” Gage asked, apparently still capable of reading her expressions, even a year later.
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Fiona rushed to answer, faking a smile, but she could tell, just judging off of Gage’s expression, that her performance wasn’t successful in convincing him that everything was fine. She sighed deeply, grimacing a little as she searched for the right words to describe what she was currently feeling. “You ever feel like…you know when you go back to a place from your childhood, and it doesn’t look like anything you remember?”
