by Fiona Quinn
Brian had his focus on Sophia as she moved around her house checking the doors. “I don’t think so. Nutsbe, let’s go back and review the tapes.”
“Brian, she’s not okay,” Lynx pointed out. “Look at her coloring. Her eyes. She’s visibly shaking. She’s like a hurt animal trying to find somewhere to hide and lick her wounds.”
“I’m heading over. I just need to know how the guy got in, so I can fix the glitch in the monitoring system.” Brian said.
“Here we go.” Nutsbe stopped the fast reverse on the video. “Look, Lana pulls up. She goes to the door and rings the bell. Sophia gets the door. She goes in. There’s the neighbor. He walked from his yard to Sophia’s while the van was in front of the sensor.”
“Yeah, I monitored that this morning. I didn’t pan out for the whole yard.” Brian said.
“Sophia comes out with the boys and is getting them into the van, moves around to the passenger seat and buckles up. Lana comes out. She didn’t check the door. I’m guessing Lana didn’t lock it behind her. Scrolling forward… Here we go. Van’s gone, old man in blue boxers goes right in the front door.”
“Switch to the interior. What does he do next?” Lynx asked.
“Locks the door, goes up the stairs,” Nutsbe narrated. “We don’t have warrants for visuals of any space but the office and exterior. We were allowed audio in her bedroom, but other than that we can’t tell what’s happening upstairs. Luckily, her open floor plan means that, with the right placement, we have a pretty good view of everything on the first floor.”
“I’m taking a few more cameras with me today. I need one pointing at the Florida room, and I want one over in that corner between the office and the living room. There’s a blind spot Rochester slid into that didn’t make me happy.”
“Incoming.” Nutsbe pointed at the red light flashing at the bottom corner of his screen. He tapped it and watched as Sophia moved hesitantly toward the house phone on her desk. She put her hand on the receiver. Paused. It rang again and her whole body jerked. She lifted the receiver slowly to her ear. They all listened as five staccato beeps sounded, then the line went dead.
Brian could feel his heartbeat at his temples, and the side of his neck. His body sensed a threat and ramped up to meet it with violent force. He held his breath. Was Sophia about to give information to the caller that would further compromise her? Put her at risk for being labelled a traitor? A terrorist? An ISIS sympathizer? It would ruin not only her life, but her kids’ lives. People’s memories were long with crimes like this.
Sophia’s cell rang. And rang. And rang. She stood with it in her hand. It stopped, and she put it down on the desk. She grabbed at her hair and pulled.
“What is that, Lynx? Is that part of a seizure?”
“Why did I do it? Why?” Sophia screeched at the ceiling camera, as if she knew it was there. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? Why?” She reached over to her desk, picking up a file and flinging it across the room, making papers flutter across the floor. She turned to her bookcase and pulled textbook after textbook off the shelf, throwing them with all her might, strewing them around the room. She was crying. Screaming.
“Not a seizure. She’s melting down. We need to get over there.” Lynx stood and put her hand on Brian’s shoulder. “I’m coming with you.”
They raced for the deck and Brian’s car. His tires squealed around the turns as Lynx pulled her seatbelt across her lap. Brian’s foot was lead on the gas pedal as he raced toward the highway ramp.
Lynx’s phone buzzed.
“Nutsbe here. Sophia’s on the move.”
“What? Okay. I’m putting you on speaker. Can you give us a direction?”
“She’s heading out of her neighborhood now. She was looking pretty effing determined as she headed out the door. Right on Pemberley. I’m guessing she’s headed for the highway. I have you up on the screen. If she keeps calm enough to stay at the speed limit, and you guys keep up your present speed, my computer says you’ll catch her in less than ten minutes.”
“Copy that.” Brian checked his speedometer to make sure he wasn’t going to get pulled over and arrested for reckless driving. He’d be no help to Sophia in a jail cell. “What happened? Any clue where she’s headed?”
“She finished throwing all the books on that shelf. She was standing in the middle of the room yelling shit in a foreign language—Turkish, I’m guessing. Then she grabbed her purse and ran out the door. She only stopped to make sure the door locked behind her. Other than that, she’s in tornado mode. Ruh-roh. Marla’s on the move.”
“Is she chasing Sophia?” Lynx asked.
“Wait for it… Nope. She turned left on Pemberley. Hang in there, you’re making progress. She’s on the southern entrance ramp. I’m not sure how you’re going to explain how you happened to show up at wherever you’re heading. But Lynx’s presence can be a good cover, you’re driving your friend to X Y or Z…”
“Nutsbe? What are you seeing?” Lynx held her phone between Brian and her.
“She’s on Route 1. I was looking at what’s up the road to see where she might be going. Keep on moving…”
The air crackled in Brian’s car. Both operatives were silent as Brian wove through traffic, trying to make better time.
“Okay, she’s pulled into a parking lot and parked. I’m texting you the address, Lynx.”
“What is it?” Brian asked. “Please tell me it’s her therapist’s office.”
“Nope. It’s a gun shop.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sophia
Saturday p.m.
Sophia sat in her minivan, giving herself as much time as she needed to compose herself. She wasn’t sure this was going to work. She knew from watching the news that there were some restrictions on gun ownership. You couldn’t have been found guilty of a federal crime, and you weren’t supposed to have a mental health condition. But Sophia thought that her case probably hadn’t been reported. She’d never done harm to herself or others. She’d never been institutionalized. She’d never been deemed a risk by the courts. So if she didn’t walk in acting like a maniac, there shouldn’t be any reason that she wouldn’t pass a background check, and that she couldn’t buy a gun today.
Sophia pulled down her visor and looked in the mirror. She pulled her purse over and dug out a brush. She had yanked her hair earlier, and now she looked half-crazed. She smoothed the long strands into a quick ponytail. She was just an easygoing girl who’d heard too many stories on the news and wanted to protect herself. Gun people liked that, didn’t they? They thought everyone should be armed and ready. She pulled out a lipstick, colored in her full lips, and inspected her handiwork. She rubbed a little lipstick onto her finger and then onto her cheeks.
Gathering her purse, she exited, smoothing her clothes into place. Would they care that she was in a swimsuit cover up and flip-flops? Would she stand out? Did she look out of place? She watched as another woman, similarly clad pulled the heavy door open and walked into the shop. Okay, good. Sophia gave herself a shake, squared her shoulders and made her way up to the counter.
“Hello.” A man with a wooly beard and a prominent limp made his way over to her. “What can I do for you?”
There was a constant pop-pop-pop coming from somewhere in the back. Sophia sent a worried glance in that direction.
“We have a practice range behind the shop.” The man leaned an elbow on the counter and waited.
“Do you offer classes here too?”
“Watcha lookin’ for?” he asked in return.
“I’m a single mom, and I don’t live in the best of neighborhoods. I want to buy a gun to protect me and my kids. And I want to know how to keep my kids from getting hurt by getting hold of it. I also need to learn how to shoot it and hit my target. Do I need a license for that?”
“Concealed carry class will give you a lot of what you need. A gun basics class would be good too. We teach those here.” He pushed a brochure her way. “As far a
s the gun goes, first, we need to talk fire power. How many bullets do you want to shoot to take someone down?”
“One won’t do it?” Sophia asked, a tremor in her voice. She cleared her throat, hoping that would take care of it. But truth be told, she was terrified about what she was doing. About the ramifications.
“With a .45 caliber, hollow point bullet, it’s a one and done. ‘Course, you’ve got to get that bullet where it belongs.”
“Hollow point?”
He pulled a small cardboard box from a shelf and fished out a bullet. “Round tip,” he said. “It goes in the front, out the back, and keeps flying. Could go through your wall, through your neighbor’s wall. Through someone on the other side. It’s fine for range shooting. It ain’t the best for home security.”
“Oh no. I can’t have bullets flying about!” Sophia sent him a horrified glance.
He fished in the box again and pulled out a bullet that had a hole in the top. “Hollow point. When it goes into something—a wall, a body, what have you—it expands out. It mushrooms.” He pulled out a blob of metal and put it in her hand. “Like this. More impact on a body, it causes internal concussive force that can kill someone even with a shot to the leg. It would be rare. But it could happen. But what you really want to know here is that once it goes in something, it’s no longer flying around, pinging off things in the environment and hurting you or your kids with ricochet.”
The shop bells jangled behind Sophia.
The man at the counter glanced that way. “I’ll be right with you, ma’am.” He fished in his box again. “This is a 9mm. This is a .40, and this is a .45.”
Sophia picked up the .45. “This is much bigger than the others.”
“Sophia?”
A familiar voice had Sophia spinning around. It took her a minute to remember the woman’s face, but when the woman lay her hand on Sophia’s arm, the effervescent warmth radiating across her skin told Sophia that this was Lynx, the woman who had helped her when she’d had her seizure on the side of the road.
Lynx knew Sophia had PTSD. Would she tell the gun guy? Sophia smiled over her shoulder at the man behind the counter. “I’ll be right back.” Catching Lynx under the arm, she moved off toward the shelves displaying concealed carry purses. “Small world,” Sophia said.
“Yeah, Brian’s here with me.” Lynx glanced out the picture window, then back at Sophia. “He’s getting something out of the car. We’re here a lot, seeing what’s new, adding to our collections. Kind of goes with the job.” She smiled. “Do you shoot? What brings you here?”
Sophia felt her artificial smile slide off her face before she pasted it back in place. “You and Brian?” she asked sweetly. “I didn’t realize you were a couple.”
The bell rang, and Brian walked through the door. “Hey, Sophia.” He made his way over to the women. “You mentioned you were interested in getting a gun. Is that why you’re here? I’m sorry; I didn’t realize you meant so soon. I would have come with you to help.”
“I was asking questions about their shooting range. I think I have to take a class to carry a gun.” She held up the brochure. She felt panicked that Brian had found her there, and she couldn’t figure out why. She looked between Lynx and Brian, imagining them together. They did look like they were a good fit. That they belonged together. With that thought, Sophia looked around, confused. What the heck was she doing? Sophia couldn’t remember the thought process that landed her in a gun shop, other than that she had to protect her boys. She had to save them. She tried to remember leaving her house. Driving.
The walls closed in around Sophia. Her fingers tingled, and she couldn’t hold her face in a polite expression. She felt as if she were softening, dissolving like one of the melting clock’s in a Salvador Dali painting. She reached out and squeezed Lynx’s arm. “It was nice seeing you.” Her voice slurred like she’d been drinking.
Sophia had to concentrate very hard on getting her feet to propel her forward. It was as if she had been sitting on them long enough that now she was numb and uncoordinated. She made it to the door, pushing it open with the weight of her hip and body. Her arms had lost their strength.
She didn’t know that Lynx was beside her, and Brian just behind, in case she should start to fall. She didn’t hear either of them talking to her. She was laser focused on getting to her van, and privacy. She should be out of the gun dealer’s line of sight by now. Another step, Sophia, come on. Move your feet.
She didn’t hear Brian’s frustration. She didn’t feel him sweep her up into his arms. Her torso was painfully rigid. Her brain screamed for air. Her lids slid down over her eyes. She was in the dark. And now she was without sensation. She wondered if the nothingness meant she was dead.
There. She sensed something. Warmth. It radiated over her back, releasing her frozen lungs. Sophia felt like she had dived off a cliff and her velocity pushed her farther than she thought possible under the water. But now, finally, she broke free. Her face above the surface, she gulped at the air. Her body was electrified as consciousness flooded back. The sensation burned under the surface of her skin, and Sophia cried out in pain.
Strong arms wrapped around her, held her, rocked her. Brian’s voice was in her ear, telling her that she was going to be okay. To hang on. Breathe.
She was too exhausted to do anything but collapse against him. Her head lolled to the side, and he lifted it back into place against his shoulder, cradling it there. Stroking his hand through her hair. Murmuring, “I’m here. I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe. Just relax. Everything’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”
Sophia knew in every cell of her body that she wasn’t safe. That he couldn’t protect her from the bad things that happened to her. And no, everything wouldn’t be fine. She sniffed and tried to sit up, quickly realizing she wasn’t up to it yet. She need more time.
Sophia hoped Lynx wouldn’t feel jealous that she was in Brian’s arms. Sophia was glad that Brian was here with Lynx. She had been so afraid since he was assigned to her that if he became emotionally invested in her, he’d get sucked into her vortex of destruction. That was her good angel’s fear. Her bad angel wanted to stay in Brian’s arms, to have him in her life to comfort and support her, maybe even to love her. But Sophia wasn’t selfish enough to allow it. Though it was like handing back a full plate while she starved, Sophia swallowed and pushed herself to a sitting position. Her time for comfort was up. She realized she was on Brian’s lap, and had drooled a big wet spot onto his chest.
“Slowly,” Lynx said. She was crouched on the pavement beside Sophia’s van. Lynx looked up at Brian. “We should get her home. I’ll follow in your car.”
Sophia listened to Lynx say “we” and felt reassured. Brian belonged to someone else. He was safe.
Brian hugged her close as he moved from sitting in the van to standing in the parking lot. He set her effortlessly back in the seat, pressed a button to lean her back a little, and adjusted the seat belt around her. Sophia’s arms dangled lifelessly in her lap.
It was a quiet drive home. Brian didn’t say a word to her. She didn’t have the wherewithal to coordinate her lips and tongue for speech. Hopefully, Brian would get her to her couch and leave her to sleep. Alone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sophia
Saturday p.m.
“You’re still here,” Sophia said, looking over at Lynx and Brian sitting on her couch, each with a computer in their lap. She sniffed, something was cooking.
“You thought we’d leave you alone?” Brian asked.
“I hope you don’t mind, I started dinner,” Lynx said. “Can I make you a cup of tea? I’d like you to take it easy as you come out of your sleep.”
Sophia looked out the window. It was almost dark. She had been out cold for hours.
Sophia hadn’t said yes to tea, but Lynx bustled around the kitchen, getting a pot together—like they were old friends and she knew where everything was stored. She cam
e back in with a tray. “I used one of your ready meals, and I have to say you are an absolute genius for doing that.” She smiled and poured the tea. “Brian says you take your tea without milk or sugar?”
Sophia nodded. Brian had only seen her drink tea one time. That was observant of him.
“Is there a story behind your ready-made food supply?” Lynx asked conversationally, like they hadn’t just scraped her off the sidewalk at a gun shop.
Sophia cleared her throat and reached for the cup and saucer, gratified that they only rattled a little as she moved the saucer to her lap. “When I was little, and Dad and I went on digs together, my mother would make ready meals for us in plastic bags, and sent them on with us. All we needed was water and our solar cooker. It was handy, and tasted good. When my mother-in-law was injured in the car accident and my children and I moved in with her, I simply didn’t have the luxury of leaving the house except for a quick trip to take the boys to and from daycare. So I did what my mom had done. I bought a bunch of freeze-dried ingredients from the prepper store, then I sat down for a few hours one Sunday afternoon and made up enough meals for four months. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, each has its own shelf. It saves me enormous amounts of time, and takes a big chunk of mommy guilt out of the equation; knowing that, if nothing else, my kids are eating nutritiously.” Sophia pushed her hair out of her eyes. Somehow, between the gun shop and now, she’d lost her elastic band. “After she died—Jane, my mother-in-law—well, I never got my act together. I seem to fly from one fire to another, putting them out, so…” She lifted a hand and let it drop. “It is what it is. My sons can see what fruit and vegetables look like fresh from the store over at Lana’s house.”
“Wow,” Lynx said. “With all you’re going through, you are still such a great mom. I’m so impressed with everything I know about you.”
Sophia lowered her lashes. That compliment squeezed her heart. The voice in her head was unforgiving when it came to her failures concerning her sons. It berated her for the hell that was sure to be visited on them because of her. She sniffed and shook her head; she was grateful that the conversation sank into silence. Sophia drank her tea and watched through the window as the first star blinked into view.
