“Don’t know, but he has, and we’re going to listen to the crazy man and keep a closer eye on your family too,” Phil told her. “Shrinks upstairs seem to think losing the last relative he had probably caused him to suffer some kind of mental break, and the clear threat to your family indicates he’d like to repay you for the death of his sister by threatening your relations so you’ll experience his pain. It’s possible he has it in for you too, but they’re convinced you’re probably not in much danger until he’s able to make you suffer first by hurting somebody you’re related to.”
“I only have one real relative,” Ellie pointed out.
Phil nodded but asked, “Do you want to tell your mother we’re putting a detail on her, or do you want me to do it?”
She’d always thought of Phil as a kind man, a gracious boss, but that single offer summed it up more beautifully than any descriptive ever could. He was willing to take on her mother because he knew her family dynamics enough to know it wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
“That’s okay.” Ellie tried to sound braver than she felt. “I’ve got to call her tonight for our weekly guilt-fest, so it will give us a little something new to talk about.”
“As long as Phillips isn’t distracted, when he’s home, then there’s no reason for someone to be in your apartment,” Phil conceded as he rose to the door. “I’m guessing he’d come running if you screamed out for help. I didn’t tell him he had to stay, but he seemed to insist on it until we could confirm who sent the note.”
“It seems like knowing where it came from would make the situation worse, not better,” Ellie pondered aloud.
“All I said was I wasn’t going to order him to be there. If he wants to do it because he is invested in your safety, or wants to appease the barista, then I’m not going to stop him from doing it.” Phil smiled, as though this was somehow worse. “At least if you had an official in-house guard, you could negotiate coverage terms. I’m not sure the Phillips boys are going to be so easy to talk out of a constant presence.”
“He’d leave me alone if you ordered him to,” she pointed out.
“Possibly…” Phil grinned. “But we’ll never know for sure, because I have no intension of giving an order like that.”
****
“Just pick up the phone and call her,” Ellie commanded herself, wishing it were as easy as she was making it sound.
Janice answered with a cheery, “Hello,” on the second ring.
“Hey, Mom.” Ellie tried to keep her tone light and friendly.
“What’s wrong?”
Apparently she’d either failed at hiding the stress of this call, or Janice was developing some psychic abilities.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Ellie replied more out of habit than conviction.
Janice’s next question explained what had given her away. “Then why are you calling so early? You never call before I’ve been to the club for dinner. Honestly, I assumed you preferred not to call at all.”
The honesty of that last comment was too much for Ellie to address at the moment. “If you’re worried about missing the pre-dinner drinks, we can hang up and talk later.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Janice chided her. “I’m always happy to hear from you. Now, what is it that you don’t want to tell me?”
“You’re pretty good at guessing what’s going on,” Ellie complimented.
Janice made a noise that Ellie didn’t understand. “I was married to an agent, and I know how he sounded whenever he called to tell me he was going on assignment. You sound just like… Ellie Michaels, promise me right now that you aren’t going in the field again. It didn’t turn out well the last time, and I refuse to sit around waiting for a call to tell me the next time, you didn’t have someone to rescue you.”
“He saved your life. That’s not the same thing as giving him credit for saving all of you…” The phrase from her session with Mack earlier in the week resonated in her mind. Somehow she’d walked out of that session feeling normal, but having it come back as voices in her head didn’t seem like something she should share aloud.
“I’m not going in the field again,” Ellie responded. “But there is something I need to tell you.”
“Oh.”
The relief conveyed in that simple syllable made Ellie determined to handle the rest of this call better. Despite their differences, this was still her mother, and on occasion Janice had proven herself capable of being understanding and almost nurturing.
“When the case closed from California and I was injured, the woman Joe shot had a brother,” Ellie began.
“Dr. Garrison,” Janice interrupted. “He was the one making the drugs Lydia was using to kill the women.”
“Right,” Ellie said, picking up the story again. “After the case was closed, the FBI attempted to capture Dr. Garrison, but to date, we haven’t been able to locate him. There hasn’t been a single sign of him…until last night.”
“Have more girls been strangled?” Janice asked.
“No, nothing like that,” Ellie assured her. “But a scarf that belonged to me was tied around the stairwell of my apartment, and there was a note inside it from the doctor that basically said you should keep family close to you because they’re important.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think he’s threatening my family because I was responsible for his sister’s death,” Ellie explained. “The truth is we don’t know yet what he means or what he’s capable of, but until we do, Phil is assigning around-the-clock security protection for you.” She held her breath, waiting for the eruption that she was sure was about to follow.
“Will it be according to the protocols worked out with your father?” Janice asked calmly.
“You had security protocols?”
“Of course, dear.” Janice’s voice had taken on the tone one used when explaining something challenging to a three-year-old. “It’s common when you are married to someone often put in dangerous situations. We haven’t had to use them in some time, but if you could just confirm that someone will call me if there are going to be any alterations, then I’ll act according to the plan.”
“Can you clue me in on exactly what that is?” Ellie asked.
“Just the usual stuff,” Janice spoke quickly. “Look for the car following me, and always be aware of where they are in case something happens and I need help exiting. They are aware of my general routine, and any trips or significant variations from my regular activities need to be sent to the head of the detail to accommodate. Oh…and I’m supposed to limit my drinking in public to two or less.”
“You agreed to drink less when there’s the potential for danger?” Ellie didn’t think anything could get between her mother and her pre-dinner cocktails.
“I agreed to limiting the number I consumed at the club,” Janice clarified. “I can drink all I want at home before or after I go out.” That little loophole seemed to make her happy. “Besides, one wouldn’t want the gentleman protecting me to get the wrong idea, so limiting my beverages in public makes sense.”
Of course Janice wouldn’t drink less because it was the right thing to do. She’d only do it as a way to make it appear as though her alcohol consumption wasn’t enough to pickle small vegetables. Reality didn’t matter to her as much as perception did. That was a lesson Ellie had never been able to accept.
Ellie decided to try to end this quickly before she learned something else she didn’t want to know. “I’ll reach out to Phil and see if anything is going to change from what you’re used to. And if you could just be a little more careful than usual, then hopefully we’ll be able to catch this guy and you can go back to normal.”
“It’s fine,” Janice assured her, sounding sincere. “Now what are they doing to keep you safe? I have a feeling that is a much more difficult challenge.”
“Well, I do work in the FBI building, so I’m plenty secure there,” Ellie hoped her mother would concede her job offered a level of pro
tection. “And I’m not going to be in the field, so there’s not much chance in work getting me hurt again.”
“What about when you’re at home?” Janice pushed.
“I’ll lock the door,” Ellie answered, determined to keep her apartment her private space.
“Won’t your neighbor at least check on you? Or perhaps his cousin?”
“I’m sure they will, but I refuse to accept a full-fledge security detail in my apartment during the night. The threat seemed to imply he wants me to feel the uncertainty of what might happen to my family, so I’m not his direct target for any action.” When Ellie said it aloud, it made sense, but she cringed at the idea of her mother being forced to pay a price for the crime of being related to Ellie. “Look, Mom, I know you need to get to the club for dinner, and I was calling early because I’m going to be tied up tonight and I knew this conversation couldn’t wait.”
“I know when I’m being dismissed,” Janice said, sounding defeated.
A knock at the door of her apartment gave her just the excuse she needed. “No, Mom, but someone is here that I have to meet with, so I really do need to go.”
For once, her rushing off the phone wasn’t because of a fictitious reason. Despite that being true, Ellie still found herself feeling guilty.
Chapter 4
Ellie peeked quickly through the hole in her door to see the Adam’s apple of a man in a white dress shirt and in need of a shave. She threw the door open, knowing that look only belonged to one man.
“Hey, Joe.”
“My cousin tells me you might not be roaming around as much as usual for a bit, so I thought I’d take it upon myself to deliver to keep my best customer happy.”
Before Ellie could build up any steam about his announcement that she’d lost some freedom, she noticed one of his large to-go cups in his hand, so she reached out and smiled as the warmth passed into her hands.
She took a taste and realized it was different than what she considered her usual—a large dark-chocolate mocha with fresh cream.
“It’s got white chocolate, which is something different for me, so I’m using you as a guinea pig to tell me if the new brew is worth rolling out in the shop,” Joe said.
“It’s good,” she answered honestly. “But it’s not my favorite.”
His lips tightened at her words, and then his shoulders seemed to fall slightly. “That’s how I felt, and I can’t decide if it’s because the chocolate isn’t good or because I just prefer things to be darker and less sweet.”
They moved to her sofa and talked for a while—conversation always coming easy when they were together—until her cell phone rang.
Miller’s voice came through before she could get out a full hello. “Michaels, I read your initial notes on the file for George, and that was excellent work.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ellie responded, feeling awkward about receiving praise from a man who was typically so reserved.
“So, I’ve asked him to send you the pictures we’ve received from the scene techs when the trucks were unloaded and the histories of the truckers in case there is a connection there. I’ll expect to see your impressions from the review first thing tomorrow.”
The beep that the call had disconnected was her only indication that he’d hung up.
“That was odd,” Ellie said aloud.
“Higher-up handing out a random set of instructions?” Joe guessed.
“Yeah.”
“That’s exactly how I recall my end of the conversation working when it happened to me,” he continued. “They talked, I said thank you, and then they barked out a few orders and the conversation was over.”
Deciding to go with a change of topic, she invited Joe to stay for dinner and set about pulling together a quick stir fry for them to share. The postseason of baseball was heating up, and there was a game on television she hoped to catch.
Halfway through the second inning, there were three slow knocks followed by two quicker ones.
“Does he even buy groceries anymore?” Ellie complained as she moved to open the door.
“It smells great in here,” Phillips announced when he walked into the apartment. Without waiting for an invitation, he moved to the kitchen, took a plate from the cabinet, and served himself a large portion before moving into the den to sit on the floor beside Ellie.
It was hard to disguise her smile when she noticed Joe glaring at his cousin. Fortunately, the game was entertaining enough to get them all yelling at the screen, which prevented much lengthy conversation.
As it began to get late, she couldn’t help but notice neither of the men were volunteering to leave. Something was definitely different, and despite their ability to yell to the players in the game, the guys hadn’t said much to each other. Once the commentators finished their postgame comments, she decided to call out the elephant in the room.
“Are you guys struggling to tell me something difficult, or are you irritated with each other, because we’ve spent several evenings together, and none of them have felt like this.”
Phillips’s hand went to the back of his neck and his head dipped down. He didn’t do it often, but she knew that was his stress indicator. Joe leaned back against the sofa and looked at the ceiling, as though willing the answer he needed to appear in the pattern of the paint.
Finally, Phillips spoke. “Phil didn’t order a home detail, and I’m worried about leaving you unprotected. I guess I’d hoped you’d be tired and might fall asleep watching the game so you wouldn’t notice if I bunked out here tonight.”
Ellie didn’t have a chance to fuss at him for all the assumptions in that sentence, because Joe jumped in before she could. “You didn’t think to ask Ellie if she was all right with you spending the night in her home?”
“Stop pretending like you’re on her side,” Phillips argued. “You’re just pissed because I was going to stay, which might interfere with whatever you had planned.” In a softer voice, he added, “At least I was staying to keep her safe. Who knows what you had in mind.”
“Are we honestly going to have this conversation?” Joe asked, turning to better see his cousin.
“You’re welcome to have it as long as you stop yelling,” Ellie announced before standing up to collect the dirty dishes. “I’m going to wash these and then head to bed. Whoever is out here then can lock the doors.”
“Ellie…” Joe tried to stop her by picking up his own plate and gripped her wrist loosely with his hand. “We’re both worried about you, and we disagree about how to handle it.”
“I’ve got the section chief pressuring me to help his nephew’s career, a mother who is oddly accepting of the detail surrounding her twenty-four/seven, and now you two acting like junior high boys. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think it’s something I can solve tonight, so I’m removing myself from the tension because I’ve got enough of my own.” When she pulled, he released her hand immediately, allowing her to step around him. She paused briefly to say, “Good night, Joe,” before dropping the dishes in the sink and moving to the bedroom to shut the door.
Men were confusing, and she knew from experience there was no way to break down their behaviors enough to figure out how they thought, so it was useless to even try.
****
Even though she’d agreed to the appointment, Ellie found herself taking the stairs up to the psychiatrist’s office as slowly as possible. Her lack of effort to be prompt allowed Mack to beat her in, and the small redhead seemed to be searching for something on the floor under the guest chair where Ellie had sat the last time. Mack was on her hands and knees with her head under the chair and her rear end in the air, mumbling to herself.
“Can I help you find something?” Ellie couldn’t help but ask.
“No, I’ve got it. Just come have a seat,” Mack announced, not making a move to remove herself from beneath the guest chair.
“Where exactly should I sit?” Ellie wondered.
“Oh, I guess I might
be in the way, huh?” Mack seemed to have just realized the difficulty. “Go around and sit behind the desk—make yourself comfortable.”
When she moved as instructed, Ellie noticed the chair had two cushions stacked on each other. When she sat on them, she was too high in the seat to pull the chair up under the desk. But from her perch, she did briefly feel like she was sitting on some kind of throne.
“Wow!” Mack exclaimed after extracting herself from the floor and plopping down in the guest chair. “I forgot how big everybody else is until I see somebody in my seat and they look like a parent playing tea party with their kids.”
Ellie began to stand up, assuming they were going to switch places, but Mack waved her hand, indicating Ellie should stay put. “My stapler got jammed, and I banged it on the desk to clear it. Several of the staples came flying out onto the carpet, so I had to find them. When I get stuck on a problem, I sometimes take off my shoes and walk around to think it out. If there’s a staple on the floor, leave it to me to step right on one of them, so I had to find them while I could remember where they flew.” After the rambling explanation, Mack sat back hard in the chair, as though all the talking was exhausting.
Then she began to pat the top of her head, as though searching for something. Not finding the mystery item there, she flipped around to look on the floor once more before sitting up quickly and flinging her hair in a fiery train behind her. “Ah!” she called out, lunging for the edge of the desk to pick up her glasses. Putting them on the tip of her nose, she grabbed a legal pad and then looked at Ellie, seeming much more professional. “How are things?”
“Fine,” Ellie answered, not sure what else to say to a question that vague.
Mack turned and looked at the open door, then tossed the tablet carelessly on the desk and walked over to glance out in the hallway before shutting the door. “Okay,” she spoke as she moved back to the guest chair. “How are you adjusting to having a shadow?”
“How did you know?” Ellie asked.
“Young suit sitting in the hallway looking at everything as though it’s a threat,” Mack explained. “I know he’s not here to see me, so he has to be here because of you.”
Finely Ground Page 3
