Heartwood

by L. G. Pace III

  “Did you hear that?” I asked my dad, who had jumped out of the vehicle when Mason had sprung into action.

  “It was only a matter of time before someone went there.” He replied. “Take Eva back inside. We have to go.”

  As we drove in the direction of downtown, I wracked my brain for a proper way to express my gratitude to this man who’d become a stranger to me. He deserved my thanks, but I had no framework for how to give it to him. We’d been sparring for so long that I had no idea how to have a normal conversation with the man, let alone a decidedly abnormal one like this one was sure to be.

  Ever since I was a kid, I understood that my old man was a powerful guy. In high school, I got glimpses of that power when he made problems disappear. When I was fifteen, I got busted driving drunk and without a license to boot. I know...not my finest hour. The cops had me dead to rights. Then I called my dad. Ten minutes later, the cops drove me home and handed over all the evidence to my father’s assistant.

  Looking back, I’m still stunned at how completely he fixed it. In retrospect, it might explain why some of the cops seemed to have it out for me when I was an adult. Irony had snuck in and sucker-punched me. Dad’s power and connections, which were once reasons for so much contempt, might now be my light at the end of the tunnel. I dared to hope he’d be my family’s salvation.

  A few blocks down the street from my shop, there was a new high rise under construction. The ground floor looked finished on the outside, but it was all exposed metal beams and hanging construction lights on the inside. That is until you turned left into an interior room with no windows.

  Plywood walls divided this space that filled almost half the remaining floor. Solid wooden tables and desk chairs were to the left. The entire wall was filled with giant flat screen monitors. Everything from computer code to video footage was playing across them. A huge conference table was directly ahead and to the right was a giant black metal storage cage.

  Dad led me over to the people working at the monitors and introduced me to his staff, three young men, none of which looked old enough to shave. Zip, Crypt and Phantom. Their nicknames were laughable, but their fingers flew across the keyboards in a blur. They talked back and forth in a strange stilted version of English. I didn’t understand half of what they said.

  Dad then took me over to the cage and introduced me to a few of his security people. Two of them, Dibbs and Cantel, I remembered from his days in office. The rest had to be good if they were working for my father. The leader of “Alpha Team” (as my father referred to the collection of assembled men) was a salt and pepper haired, heavily-muscled man that introduced himself as Seth, no last name.

  Seth unlocked the cage and gave me the nickel tour. It contained a small arsenal. A heavy collection of Glock handguns, a few boxes of grenades that he called ‘Flash bangs’, and beyond those were heavy shotguns, sniper rifles and racks of Kevlar body armor. My eyes traveled the room, scrutinizing the inventory and trying to piece together what it all meant.

  I returned to find my father at the conference table with Dibbs and Cantel. Dad waved me to a chair and motioned for Dibbs to continue.

  “As I was saying sir, the tech group found footage showing the car moving east out of town. We lose them exiting 30 at the intersection of Hwy 969.” I couldn’t stop myself from interrupting.

  “The feds told me that they couldn’t find any traffic cam footage. How the hell did you get that video?” Cantel gave Dad a weighty look and after a slight nod from my father, he turned to me.

  “Mr. Jenson, the authorities have restrictions. They lack talent as well as having hardware as old as you are. Our team bypasses the illegalities, and our equipment is top notch. Our people have programs they’ve written that search out the information that we need. The feds can’t touch what we can do.”

  “So are you telling me we are at a dead end?” My father’s voice was level and clipped, not a good tone to be on the receiving end of.

  “No sir,” Dibbs responded. “The area that they were headed into is sparsely populated. With the travel time we are working with, based on the issuing of the A.P.B., it gives us a much smaller area to search. The techs are adding the new information into their software search. They hope to have something for us soon.”

  “Very well. Keep us apprised.” The two men walked away toward the tech group and another man brought over a carafe of coffee and two mugs. A moment later he returned with a plate of baked goods. One whiff and I was fighting back tears. Of course it was from Sweetish Hill; it was the best bakery on this side of town. The intense memories of Molly that a simple apple fitter evoked had me turning away in my seat to hide the welling tears from my father.

  His hand came onto my shoulder and he sat silently with me until I got my shit together. Pushing the tray hard enough to send the pastries spinning to the far side of the table I grabbed the carafe. Pouring us cups of coffee gave me time to focus.

  This was getting beyond hard. Sitting here...pretending like I wasn’t coming apart at the seams. Holding myself in check when all I wanted to do was tear the world apart to find Molly and Logan. The fact that I could do nothing while they were in that psycho’s hands was tearing my heart out a hunk at a time.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I watched the steam rising up from my cup until my heart rate returned to a reasonable level. The entire time dad sat staring at his coffee cup. As uncomfortable as he was with displays of emotion from me, this equated to a herculean effort.

  “So what do we do now?” I said it softly, trying to keep the rage and pain I was feeling out of my voice. He started to answer then gave a heavy sigh.

  “We wait, son. It’s infuriating, but I have to give them the space they need to do their job. If you want to go check on Eva, I can call you when something comes up.”

  I shook my head, and the tension in my jaw made it throb.

  “She’s in good hands right now. I need to do something.” The last word came out in a mixture of anger and sorrow. Dad put his arm around me and gave me a quick squeeze. Standing he cleared his throat.

  “I’m going to make a few calls.” He walked toward the tech group. Pausing, he turned back to me. “We’ll find her, son.”

  I gave him a curt nod and he looked like he wanted to say more. After a moment, he turned away and kept walking.

  I lowered my head in my hands. Horrible thoughts were coursing through my brain just barely outside my mind’s eyes. A moment of inactivity and I was afraid they would all come rushing forward. I couldn’t allow that to happen. If I let myself think about what that crazy bastard could be doing...

  Jumping out of my chair, I started pacing. I wasn’t going anywhere but I had to do something to keep the thoughts at bay. It was on my third circuit of the room that I noticed a pile of file folders on a far table between the tech area and the conference table.

  The names on the folders were obscure. Subject 18. S.O.I. M...something about that folder caught my attention. Flipping the front open, I saw a black and white picture of Molly staring back at me. As I flipped through the pages, I felt my barely contained fury overflowing.

  “What the fuck is this?” The bellow made the techs jump and a few of the security guys put their hands instinctively on their guns. My father looked up sharply from his phone and quickly hung up. Moving over to me, he saw the folder I was looking at and his lips pursed.

  “It’s background I had collected on your wife back when the two of you started dating. Subject 18 Subject Of Interest Molly.” The matter of fact way that he said it did little to curb my anger.

  “And what the hell are you doing running a check on Molly?” My father stood his ground and met my eye.

  “Protecting my son.” The fierce way that he said it took the wind out of my sails. “Joe...I knew nothing about this girl. All I knew was that you’d been through hell. If I had done the same thing with Jessica, you might have been spared a lot of heartache.”

  Of all the things he could h
ave said to me, nothing was more surprising. I’d assumed he wanted to make sure Molly wasn’t a gold digger. Or a drug addict. Or just an embarrassment to him in some way. Instead? He was looking out for me.

  Dropping the file, I gestured to the rest of the folders on the table.

  “Anything else I should know about?” He stepped over and pulled three files out of the pile.

  “This one is background on your therapist, Dr. Greene. Quite a fellow. Did you know he was Magna Cum Laude? This one is on your employee, Francis. Quite the story there. He should write his autobiography. And this last one is on that boy, Nick.” He shook his head as if Nick was a problem child. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure that out. When he noticed my disapproving expression, he looked completely unapologetic.

  “No real surprises on any of them. Obviously, Molly was clean. She’s an open book or I would have mentioned something to you. Based on our current situation you might want to have a look at her file. There’s a lot of information in there about her time with Draven Cirone.”

  My eyebrow lifted and I open the file. I dropped into a chair and started reading. It was sickening to see the details of Molly’s life spelled out in black and white. They’d dug up all manner of public, and in some cases private, records. There were stories she’d told me about, and there were many details she’d never mentioned. A copy of an emergency room visit for her wrist sat next to copies of emails between her and Dan confessing her growing fear of Draven.

  I came across several police reports marked as deleted. I got up to ask the techs about that. The three of them exchanged a glance and then snickered.

  “Once it’s on the system it is never really deleted, sir,” Crypt told me. “Well in rare occasions the truly paranoid, and the military, actually overwrite the information. But with the right software you can get almost anything.”

  The deleted files were from multiple police departments all from the area where Draven grew up. Amongst his infractions were assaults against two high school girlfriends, attacks on total strangers, and two cases of arson he was a suspect in. It was mind boggling how much shit the prick had gotten away with. No wonder he had an over developed sense of entitlement.

  When I was done with the police reports, I found some emails between Draven and his brother. His brother told Draven that his divorce was bad for business and an embarrassment to the family. He went on to say that Draven should ‘man up’ and take care of that backwater bitch before it got any worse. Draven had down played the split with Molly and said that she was out of town and no longer an issue. But the wording in his brother’s email was ominous, like he’d been expecting a more permanent solution. Maybe this sort of evil shit ran in the family.

  “How the fuck did this bastard get out of prison without us knowing? Shouldn’t we have been notified?” I sounded haughty, and in that instance I was struck at how much I sounded like my father.

  “According to the file, they tried to reach your wife, but her number was no longer in service. When he skipped his first parole hearing the records show they tried calling again to advise her.” Zip explained, and I sighed dragging a hand through my hair. Molly had already changed her number after Draven used her old one to stalk her. Then Elaine started calling about the custody battle and I’d pushed her to do it again.

  “Basically, it was the typical lack of follow through you can expect from a civil servant. There’s a reason people say ‘close enough for government work’.” Crypt interjected. Zip snorted and paused long enough in his assault on the keyboard to fist bump Crypt. I glared at them both for their flippant attitude.

  “You think any of this is funny? This is my fucking wife we’re talking about here.” I snapped, and they paused in their typing with fading smiles. My father put his arm around me and led me away.

  “They’re idiot savants,” he soothed me. “Their total lack of social skills is part of the reason they’re the best at what they do.”

  My anger drained away, taking most of my energy with it. What was left of my resolve was crumbling and I wanted to fall to pieces. I tried hard to get back into the files, but my head was killing me and I needed to see Eva.

  I told Dad I was leaving and he had one of his men give me a ride home. Walking in the door, I saw Mac sitting on the couch. He was watching the news, but switched it off the minute he noticed me. I knew what he’d been up to...heck, I’d been guilty of it myself. I’d spent several hours over the last few days watching the constant news coverage, but seeing the looping slideshow of Molly and Logan’s photographs became more than I could stomach.

  Mac looked like complete and utter shit. We simply nodded at one another without a word. I was about to leave the room when he spoke in a hoarse voice.

  “A package came yesterday.”

  “Where is it?” I asked, thinking maybe it was some sort of ‘fuck you’ taunt from Draven.

  “Right there. Leaning against the wall.” He replied. I picked up the large slender square and looked at the address that had shipped it.

  San Jose del Cabo, Mexico.

  I knew immediately that it was Molly’s painting.

  I sat it down without opening it. For a full minute, I fought back a tidal wave of nausea. I choked it back and went to Eva’s room.

  Tamryn was asleep in the corner rocker when I came in. Eva was asleep in the crib sucking her thumb. Placing my hand gently on her belly, I simply watched her sleep. Her free hand came up and wrapped around my thumb. I stood there for almost an hour, unable to take my eyes off of her. I would have stayed longer, but the pain of standing in one place for so long became too much to take.

  I took a hot shower and tried to get some sleep. It was pointless; every time my eyes closed, horrors swam up out of my mind. I rolled onto Molly’s side of the bed and pulled her pillow to my face. I breathed in the scent of oranges that still lingered on it. The familiar scent was overwhelming and I was glad I had the pillow over my face so that no one could hear me break down.

  When I wandered out into the living room around 1 a.m., Mac was changing the locks. I opened my mouth, but stopped and waved to him. He nodded, his cigarette gripped between his teeth. I turned, grabbed the painting, and went back into our bedroom. I ripped it open and the sight of the colorful dessert scene stung like rubbing alcohol in an open gash. I pulled down the picture that hung on Molly’s side of the bed and put her painting in its place.

  Once again, I climbed into bed. If Dad did find them, I’d be useless without some kind of rest. As I drifted off surrounded by the scent of her shampoo, I focused tiredly on the picture.

  “I hung it where you wanted it, Molly.” I croaked. “Now please come home.”

  I must have passed out for a few short hours, but by the time light peeked up over the horizon, I had gone in search of coffee. Eva woke up so I fed and changed her. She seemed glad to see me, though the complex look on her tiny face made me wonder if she knew something was wrong. I tried to put her down for some tummy time, but she protested. I tried the swing, but she didn’t want to be put down. So I kept her close and she cuddled up with me on the couch until Tamryn came in from the kitchen with a cup of coffee. Then she reached out for her Aunt.

  “You going back out with Dad today?” Tamryn’s bloodshot eyes and wild hair made her look far older than she was. I was sure I looked like shit, too.

  “Yeah. I was just about to head that way. Tamz...thanks for—.” She nodded and put her hand on top of mine.

  “Go do what you need to do, JoJo.”

  I jumped in my truck and drove down to Dad’s HQ. When I walked in, the techs were all huddled around one computer jabbering excitedly. Dad was standing next to them and waved me over.

  “Okay, play the sequence again,” he said to Zip.

  The hacker clicked a few buttons and the main screen started showing video. The first video clip was only a few seconds. It showed Molly driving and Draven in the passenger seat holding Logan in his arms. Then there were traffic came
ras, side views, long views, short views. Some camera shots were blurry and others were intensely crisp. Zip gave a running commentary as the images unspooled.

  “Okay, we start off with the traffic camera at the intersection near the house. This next camera is a red light camera three streets over. Then we have a weather camera on the interstate. Here they exit the interstate and we have footage from an ATM, then a security camera from a grocery store, next a home security camera. The last camera is near the outskirts of Webberville. They are on a road heading roughly north. Based on the time limits we are working under and the cameras on all available roads beyond this point they will be somewhere in a two to four mile radius.”

  “That is still of a hell of a lot of countryside to search,” my father said gruffly.

  “Yes, it is sir,” Phantom piped up. “And that is making the assumption that they didn’t switch vehicles. Luckily, we have some additional data. This morning we managed to break through a few foreign firewalls. My Trojan program gave us what we needed. According to the files, we have three shell companies that have been used to buy property in this area.”

  “Any tied to Cirone,” my father asked.

  “Not as yet, sir,” Zip said. He had returned to his keyboard and was typing furiously. “The shell companies are leading to other companies but I have to back track a bit. Whoever set these up did an impressive job. If Phantom’s program hadn’t punched a hole in the bank’s security, we would have hit a dead end. Now, I’m running the raw data though a cypher program. The bank uses a unique code system to further protect their customers. It will take me some time.”

  “Good work. I’m going to go talk options with Alpha team. Let me know when you have something more.”

  He walked away but I couldn’t take my eyes off the video of Molly on the screen. Part of me worried that it might be the last time I would see her alive. I wanted to smash the monitor, to break everything in the room...everyone in the room. Turning on my heel, I walked back toward the door and stood by myself. I felt like I was going to lose my grip soon. I was honestly surprised I had managed to hold it together this long.