The Redemption Lie

by Amanda J. Clay

  Badger…one of Luther’s lackeys. Brainless, obedient, dangerously stupid.

  Nina laughed incredulously. Then she threw up her hands. “No, absolutely not. I'm not going back into that world. You’ll get me killed.”

  “You won’t get killed. You and I both know you’re more than capable of surviving.”

  “I’m tired of surviving! I want to live. Can’t you see that?”

  “They just want you to wear a wire. Have a conversation with him. Find out what’s going on. I think this thing is bigger than any of us realized.”

  Nina crossed her arms defiantly. “No. You can’t make me cooperate. I don't have to.”

  The expression on Beck's face told her what she needed to know before he said it.

  “Martinez is willing to use that evidence against you.”

  Nina felt the prick of tears at the back of her eyeballs. She bit down on her tongue to quell the sensation. She refused to cry in front of Beck.

  “Do you know how fucking unfair this is?” Nina said.

  “Yeah I do. Honestly, Nina I do.”

  “But you went along with it anyway?”

  “I don't have a choice. This is my job. The direction comes from Virginia.”

  Nina crossed her arms. “Then quit.”

  Beck smirked. “Ok, let’s be rational.”

  “Your job’s more important than me?” She tilted her head and gently brushed her hair back.

  Beck's jaw went slack at the question. “What kind of a question is that?

  “I thought you cared about me,” Nina said, sliding toward him.

  Beck’s eyes glossed over and for a moment, it tugged at her heartstrings.

  Beck realized her ploy and glared. “Don’t pull that bullshit on me. I do care about you. I care about your safety. But be realistic here. We had one weird night together. That doesn’t mean we’re soul mates.”

  Nina straightened up and dropped the act.

  “I’m the means to an end for the case,” she said.

  “I didn't say that.”

  “You didn't have to.”

  “It’s not like you weren’t just covering your own ass,” Beck snapped.

  Nina glared hard. “Excuse me?”

  “How many times have you slept you’re way out of a jam?”

  “Get. Out.”

  “Nina—”

  Nina held up her hand. “Just don't say anything else. Please don't say another fucking word, okay?”

  Beck opened his mouth again as if to speak but then quickly shut it. He nodded curtly and held up his hands in supplication.

  “Just get out,” Nina said.

  “You can’t just leave things like this,” Beck said.

  Nina laughed. “Watch me. Don’t text me, don’t come by. If you guys want me to cooperate on this case, you’re just going to have to arrest me.”

  “Nina—”

  “In fact if you come in my restaurant again without a warrant, I will file a formal complaint and get a restraining order against your sorry fucking ass.”

  Nina stood up and abruptly opened the door. “Now. Get. Out.”

  

  Beck had just popped the top on his second beer when his phone buzzed. His pulse sped up. Maybe it was Nina. Shit, more likely Martinez.

  It was from Shelley, the station office manager.

  Okay so I know you said you're busy, and you clearly don't have any interest in coming out, but I'm just throwing this out there one more time. Meeting some friends for drinks at Lucky’s tonight. You should totally come and have a good night out. XOXO

  Beck sighed and tried to envision a night out with Shelley and her friends. Cheap shots, loud music, careless dancing. Hot sweaty bodies pressed into each other as inhibitions lowered. He supposed there could be worse ways to drown your sorrows.

  He typed back. What time?

  Chapter 25

  Beck woke with a pounding head, like two arms of a vise were slowly closing in on him. He tried not to taste his own saliva. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Everything hurt, right down to his toes. His face even felt raw. What the fuck happened?

  He rolled over, feeling around the bed. Something felt off, strange. He was disoriented. Slowly, he peeled both eyes open and looked around the room. Paintings of flowers and bunny rabbits hung on the wall. He glanced down—lavender floral bedsheets. Something smelled like saccharine rose petals. He was not at home.

  The air in the room was suffocating, sticky, and his mouth was dry.

  He shifted in the sheets and felt cool fabric against his bare skin. He glanced down. He was naked. Fuck.

  “You're probably thirsty” a voice said, chipper and upbeat.

  Double fuck.

  He sat up and faced Shelley, her light bright blue eyes like a summer sky beaming at him. Her overly tanned arms and legs protruded from tiny white shorts and a tight, see-through tank top, under which she wore a hot pink bra.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Beck said. He gladly accepted the extended glass of water.

  He rubbed his head and pounded the entire glass.

  “I guess you do know how to have a good time, after all,” Shelley said.

  Beck frantically scoured the dark places of his memory for traces of the night before.

  He remembered arriving at Lucky’s, which was packed wall-to-wall with drunk tourists. He remembered bad pop music and some kind of cinnamon shot. He tried not to gag as the lingering taste crept up his throat. He remembered dancing, likely like an idiot as he had two left feet. He remembered Shelley’s dress, entirely too short, too tight, too low cut. He remembered her body against his, sweat and heat and energy coursing between them. He thought she might have thrown her arms around him, thrown her head back, laughed carelessly. Poured shots down his throat.

  He vaguely remembered a euphoric sense of ease, laying on the floor, laughing uncontrollably.

  Did you have fun? Was it all worth it?

  He looked around the room again. The bedroom was of an adolescent girl, not a mature woman. How old was she anyway? How’d they get here? Did they use a condom?

  Shelley laughed then. He glanced up and met her eyes.

  “I can see all the questions in your eyes, Agent Graham.”

  “Sorry. My head's pretty foggy. The details of last night are a little cloudy.”

  Shelley sighed melodramatically.

  “Yeah, I imagine it would be. You drank a shit ton. You were pretty fun for a while.”

  “But then?”

  Shelley shrugged. “I don’t know, then you just started going off about some bitch called Nina. Someone who apparently plays with her food? I don’t know, you weren’t really making sense.”

  “But we ended up back here?”

  Shelley pressed her lips into a tight smile.

  “You really don’t remember do you?” she said. Beck shook his head. “We didn’t have sex.”

  Beck tried not to show it on his face but utter relief washed over him.

  “Probably for the best, considering we work together,” Beck said, trying to sound chivalrous.

  “We just share a building,” Shelley said. He could hear the regret in her tone.

  “Sorry if I was an ass or did anything really embarrassing,” Beck said.

  “Oh you're fine. I mean we came back here and we started to kiss a little bit, but then you just kind of passed out.”

  Beck winced. It was like he was back in college all over again.

  “I should get going,” Beck said, fumbling to free himself from her girly purple sheets.

  “Yeah, ok. I have to get to work anyway.”

  Beck awkwardly reached for his clothes on the floor, trying to keep himself covered. Shelley’s eyes did not avert.

  “Um, mind if I have little privacy?” Beck said.

  Shelley snorted. “It's not like I didn’t see it all last night. Impressive.”

  Beck felt his cheeks redden. Get over it, Beck. Not like it’s the first time you
’ve woken up naked in a girl’s bed.

  “Yeah, right. Well fine okay then.” He flung off the sheets and dove for his clothes. He pulled them on rapidly, fumbling with his belt buckle.

  He stared at Shelley sitting on the bed. Guilt swam around in his gut.

  “Look, I’m sorry about last night,” Beck started. Shelley shook her head.

  “It’s fine. It happens. Need me to drive you anywhere?”

  “Um, no that’s ok. I’ll just call an Uber.”

  It felt like an eternity standing outside Shelley’s apartment in the crisp air before the little Prius pulled up.

  “Hey man, rough night?” The bro in the salmon polo shirt driving said.

  “Yeah, a little,” Beck said.

  “Yeah you look like you partied hard last night.”

  “Yeah,” Beck said.

  “Get some action?”

  “Hey man, you mind shutting the fuck up? I have a splitting headache,” Beck said.

  “Geez, must not a gone so well.”

  Beck silently congratulated himself for making a royal fucking disaster of his current state.

  

  Beck stepped into his rented apartment and breathed in the feeling of silence and solitude. His head was pounding and he was thirsty. The damn altitude had him in a constant drug-like state. He pounded a glass of tap water then pulled a local lager from the small fridge. He could feel the rapidly escalating hangover knocking. He’d have to go into work later but for now he needed to think, to focus, to forget.

  He slipped on his noise-canceling headphones and fell back against the couch. He opened Pandora and let loose haunting classical piano. He closed his eyes and fell into the requiem of his day. What he wouldn’t give for a luxe leather chair in a fine library, the leather and emptiness lulling him to sleep. One day, if he ever settled down, if the job ever permitted him a moment's respite. But what had he really expected? Did he think that he’d be home by five, greeted by his eager wife, two handsome children and a Labrador? That was someone else’s life.

  Any such normal dreams he might have once upon a time had about his life were destroyed in Iraq. No one can go back to a life of normal after that.

  He thought so many times about sending that final letter home. Who would he send it to? What would he say? Would his mom be there to read it? Would she even care?

  It was not thoughts of home that kept him going, not like so many other men he knew. It was thoughts of Jack that kept him moving. That kept his feet plunging into sand, his rifle held high, his constitution steady. He owed Jack everything. He owed Jack a life that he would never get back. Sometimes he wondered if forgiveness would ever find him. Maybe somewhere down the road. But maybe he didn’t deserve forgiveness. The world should save its redemption for someone worthy of it.

  The music lulled his racing mind and soon he felt a slight bit of calm. His mind drifted to Nina. He had no right to be angry with her and he had no reason to feel guilty about Shelley. He’d done what men do—find solace in someone’s bed. It didn’t mean anything and it didn’t have to mean anything. They were basal creatures, driven by instinct and short-term gratification. He had to believe it was a biological preserve for the human species—the instinctive need to spread one’s seed, ensuring the survival of the species. Like most things in the world, their biology hadn’t quite caught up to society.

  Shelley, Shelley. So young, so carefree and eager. But was it all so empty and meaningless to her as well? Did she sit as he did now, pondering and dissecting her actions? Was her unconcerned attitude about his dismissal all an act? Was she secretly just pining for companionship?

  Not opening his eyes, Beck drained his beer. He couldn’t think about these things now. He didn’t have time for women or relationships and emotional depth. He needed to be a calculating machine, dissecting the case, not his feelings.

  There was a time he wouldn't have thought twice about going home with a girl like Shelley. It would've been par for the course for any given drunken Saturday night. Sport fucking, they used to call it back in the day. Just a mindless release of endorphins and adrenaline. No consequences, no thought to the morning. Hell, sometimes they’d be up until the morning. Back in those days he was trying so hard to forget all the things. For whatever reason, there's something about sex with a stranger that could make you forget any manner of sins. And he had a whole bucket of sins just waiting to be kicked over and spilled out for the world to see.

  Chapter 26

  Nina was frustrated and not even remotely in the mood to be at work today. But she also couldn’t stand being at home with nothing to do.

  She arrived three hours before opening and started to get the place ready. She headed toward the back but stopped short when she heard a rustle coming from the back office. The locked, private back office.

  She froze. She glanced around and didn't see anyone else there. Slowly, she reached for a kitchen knife and pointed it outward. She crept back, careful to make light footsteps with her rubber-soled shoes. Dim lights peered through the cracks of her office door. She heard a rustle, as if somebody were going through papers.

  She took a deep breath and lunged forward. She burst into the office holding the knife, ready to attack. She let out a scream, clipped short when she realized that it was only Katie. She jumped back, startled, then relaxed and lowered the knife.

  Katie snapped up from what she was doing—rummaging through Nina's desk.

  "Oh, Nina. I didn't expect you so early."

  “What are you doing?” Nina said.

  Katie's eyes looked momentarily stunned, but then her expression relaxed into an easy unconcerned expression. She straightened her spine and shrugged.

  “I was just looking for the first aid kit. I got a cut.”

  Nina hesitated.

  “How did you get in here? It’s locked.”

  Katie looked at her innocently.

  “The door was open.”

  “No, I always lock it,” Nina said. She pulled the keys from her pocket and jangled them in front of Katie as if to illustrate her point.

  Katie shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is the door was open.”

  “And you thought it was okay to just come in without permission? You know it’s off limits.”

  “I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have, I was just looking for the first aid kit. I didn't know where you keep it.”

  Nina's eyes landed on the desk, and the disheveled paperwork.

  “I certainly don't keep it in my desk.”

  Katie tittered. “Well, when I couldn't find it I thought maybe you just might have some spare Band-Aids or something.”

  “Well I don't,” Nina said. She pushed past Katie and slammed the desk drawer shut.

  She turned around and glared at Katie. “I don’t know what exactly you were looking for, but I don't buy your bullshit.”

  “Honestly, Nina, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry.”

  Nina shook her head frustrated. “Look maybe you’re telling the truth, maybe not, but either way I just caught you going through my private things. And that's unacceptable. I'm going to ask you to go home for the day.”

  Katie's mouth dropped. “What?” she said with utter surprise that was a little too contrived for Nina’s liking. Her instincts had always pricked up about Katie, but she had never pegged her for a thief. “Look, I'm not saying you're fired or anything, but I'm pretty pissed off about this and I think it would just be best if you took the day off. If it's a money thing, maybe I can find you another shift this week.”

  Nina wanted to kick herself. She was trying to steal from you, don’t offer to help her!

  Katie sighed. “No, it’s okay. I understand. I'm sorry I didn't mean anything by it.”

  Katie turned to head out, then snapped back around. Something feral had replaced the apology in her blue eyes.

  “Oh, by the way I ran into your cop friend last night,” Katie said.

  Nina's stomach
tightened. She tried not to react. “My cop friend?” She said innocently as if she didn't know exactly who Katie was talking about.

  “You know the real dreamy one. Sharp jaw, distant eyes. Extremely fuckable. Beck, right?”

  Nina shrugged slightly.

  “Oh, nice. Where’d you see him?” She tried to sound as unconcerned as possible even though her heart was pounding and she wanted to gouge Katie’s eyeballs out

  “He was at Lucky’s. I think he was on a date. Young blonde thing.”

  With that, Katie turned to go.

  

  Nina sat in a corner booth, a bottle of wine staring her down. She should have known better. She shouldn’t have let herself get so wrapped up in a man who was out for something selfish. But weren’t you also protecting yourself? A voice kept saying in the back of her mind.

  But no, Nina had never been the type to detach herself like that. She never understood how a hooker did it. How did they disconnect themselves enough to get over the abhorrence to a kiss that shouldn’t be? Forced passion, forced lust. It feels like a piece of your soul dies in the process. Is that it? Do they just dole out their soul little by little until they’re nothing but empty shells? Nina supposed she could understand. It wasn’t like she had never tried screwing her way through grief. After she’d gotten out, she’d made every attempt to build callouses over any remaining tenderness. But she wasn’t sure it worked, or if the side effect of self-loathing made up for it.

  She’d let herself feel something for Graham and that mistake was on her.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Nina looked up to see Brooklyn there in her street clothes—short cut-offs and a low-cut halter top that accentuated her ample assets.

  Nina smiled thinly. “I sell them for at least a dollar. Why are you here? You’re not scheduled are you?”

  Brooklyn slid into the booth next to her. “Just forgot something in my locker. You ok?”

  Nina sighed. “Fine.”

  “You look like hell.”

  “Um, thanks?” Nina half laughed.

  “I mean it with the utmost love and sincerity, you know. But you don’t look yourself. You haven’t for the past few days. What’s going on?”