The Redemption Lie

by Amanda J. Clay

  Nina was sitting on the bar top, sipping hot bitter coffee, when Beck burst through the front door, jingling the bells.

  “Nina!” Beck called out.

  “In the bar,” she called out.

  “Nina what the hell? What's going on?” Beck said coming around the corner, short of breath. His gun raised as though he were ready to open fire at any moment. He did a quick assessment, then realizing she was alone and safe, holstered his weapon.

  “Are you alright?” He said.

  Nina breathed out slowly, trying to collect herself. She couldn’t find the words. No she wasn’t all right.

  “Nina!”

  “Luther is alive,” she blurted out.

  Beck blinked a few times and studied her as if she’d just announced she was an alien, trying to decipher truth from jest.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Nina took a deep breath and explained the earlier encounter, the words sounding foreign, fabricated from the threads of a dream. She tried to keep the fear from her voice, but it trembled with it regardless. She hated feeling this vulnerable, and she certainly didn't want Beck to see it.

  Beck sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked at her with doubt.

  “Nina, Luther's dead. He was killed in the police shootout years ago. Whoever you saw wasn't him.”

  Nina narrowed her eyes at him and glared. “You think I wouldn't recognize Luther from across a crowded room? I’d know that face anywhere. I see that face everywhere, in my dreams, around every corner. That was Luther. He's alive and well. He's here in town. And he knows where I am. And guess what? He wants me to come home.”

  “If that's the case then how do you explain the shootout? How do you explain him being proclaimed dead on the scene?” Beck said.

  Nina smirked. “If you really don't think that Luther could have faked his own death, then you’re in way over your head, agent. I don’t think you even remotely understand how long his arm is. He has connections everywhere. Coroner, ME, probably chief of police for all I fucking know. If he wanted to disappear, he could. And clearly he did.”

  “Where’s he been hiding out the past six years then?”

  Nina threw her arms up. “Fuck if I know. I guess he's been underground, biding his time. Likely back in Estonia. Who knows, maybe even pulling the strings of his organization from some cave in the mountains. Trust me, if I had any inkling that Luther was alive, I would not be here. I’d be on the Mediterranean somewhere, living under a pseudonym and married to some billionaire.”

  “Doesn't sound like a bad gig. Not sure why you didn't,” Beck half laughed.

  “Yeah, well, turns out they take away your passport when you help bring drugs across international lines.”

  Beck's face fell as if he'd forgotten that little tidbit from her past.

  “Yeah, Beck. Remember that? My criminal record?”

  “Sometimes I forget,” Beck said, his tone airy. “Sometimes I think…”

  “Sometimes you think I'm just another victim, right? Sometimes you think I'm just another innocent woman in need of your saving. Well, I’m not. I'm not innocent and don't need saving. But what I do need is to get the hell out of here. I need to not be involved in whatever it is that you've got going. So you can take this half-cocked undercover idea and shove it.”

  “Nina, you said you'd cooperate.”

  “That was before I knew that Luther was still alive. This changes everything. He’s going to kill me.”

  She drank her coffee and tried not to think about all the ways in which he might kill her. Would he simply put a bullet through her head or would he draw it out? Dismember her slowly, set her on fire? Burry her alive?

  “Martinez will arrest you,” Beck said.

  “He can try. He’ll never catch me. And don’t you dare think you’re going to stand in my way, Beck.”

  “We can keep you safe. Please, let me take you to a safe house. He won’t find you there.”

  “There is nowhere safe, Beck. There's nowhere to run.”

  As Nina was saying the words, she was calculating all the places she could run She could get a new passport, she knew enough people. If she played it right she might be able to get out of the country by next week. Did she have that much time? How long did Luther plan on letting her live?

  “We were all so stupid to believe that it all ended that quickly and cleanly. We should've known that there was a reason that I was still alive,” Nina said. “I’m so stupid to think I was ever safe.”

  “No one knows that you cooperated with us,” Beck said.

  Nina shook her head. “You see, that shouldn’t have mattered. Now that I think about it, his guys would have eliminated me either way after Luther had been killed. They don’t leave any loose ends, no matter whose side they think you’re on. No, I’m only alive because Luther wants to kill me personally.” Or wants me back. In which case, she’d rather be dead. God knows what he would subject her to if she ever went back.

  “If Luther wanted you dead so badly, then why aren’t you dead? Why wouldn’t he have had someone take you out years ago?”

  Nina shook her head and chewed her lip. “I'm guessing he wanted the pleasure of doing it himself.”

  “But you didn't turn.”

  “Yes I did.”

  “But he doesn't know that.”

  “Luther knows everything. No secrets are safe from Luther’s ear.”

  “I'm going to ask you one more time. Please consider this. Please let me help keep you safe,” Beck pleaded.

  Nina ran through all the scenarios. Locked away in some safe house, like a sitting duck? Could she play this to her advantage somehow? Could Beck actually have a point, could they keep her safe?

  Beck stepped closer to where she sat on the bar top, setting his palms on her knees. He met her eyes directly.

  “Please,” he said. He leaned closer to her, pulling her toward him with invisible magnetism. She wanted to fall into him, she wanted to release it all.

  His mouth pressed into hers. For a split moment, she let him. Then she ripped away, pushing him off her.

  “Stop it!” She hopped off the bar and crossed her arms. “Don’t pull that shit.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Just shut up for a moment and let me think, ok?” She paced the room for a moment, rubbing her forehead. “Ok, so run it down. I go to a safehouse, help you take them down. And then what? I go into some kind of witness protection after?”

  “If that's what you want, then yes.”

  Nina thought hard. "No, I want to get out of the country.”

  “That’s not going to happen. You're on probation."

  “So get it revoked. Look, you still want my cooperation? You want me to go into a safe house so you can babysit me? Then I want guarantees that I'll have a passport in hand and a one-way ticket to Thailand.”

  Beck laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, Sullivan.”

  Nina folded her arms over her chest and glared. “I’m not playing around here, Beck. If I help you, I’m dead. So I can’t still be here when it all comes down. Deal?”

  There was something in Beck’s eyes then—was that longing? Regret? It pinched a nerve in her. She knew that feeling. It was grief over lost possibility. The thing they might have been together in another life. But this wasn’t another life. This was this life. They were only fooling themselves to think any of it could be theirs.

  “Deal,” Beck said. “We’ll get you to the safe house tonight.”

  Nina started to argue but Beck held up his hand. “There’s no argument on this one, Nina. You’re going to do what I say on this. It’s to keep you safe. And if it makes you feel better, it’s also to protect the case. You can’t help us if you’re dead.”

  Nina extended her hand, trying not to tremble.

  “You have a deal, Graham.”

  Chapter 30

  As twilight descended and after they’d locked up, Beck had to forcibly pull himself from the restau
rant. He practically begged to accompany her home—he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her unguarded—but she demanded she have a few final minutes to herself. With any other asset, he wouldn’t have let her out of his sight for fear of her fleeing, but he knew she wouldn’t. She’d keep her word.

  The cloudy sky cast a chill over the summer day as he rode his bike through town back to the station. He had to force himself not to run over tourists as he weaved in and out of the cluster of people going about their afternoon. Sometimes it was amazing to him that people could laugh and joke and play and drink margaritas on the lake, not knowing of the dark strata that lay below their feet. With no clue of the bustling underbelly fueling their little paradise.

  He arrived at the station and burst through, bee-lining to Martinez’s office.

  “Hey Beck!” Shelley called after him as he raced by her desk. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge her.

  He burst into Martinez's office.

  “Now what?” Martinez said. “You still look like shit, Graham. Don't you ever sleep?”

  “Who the fuck has time to sleep?” Beck sat at the chair across from Martinez. “The whole thing’s off. She's not going undercover.”

  Martinez sat back and examined Beck curiously. His mouth twitched just slightly and he looked as though he were about to watch a comedic performance.

  “Okay, explain.”

  “Luther Kavka’s alive.”

  Martinez’s bushy eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Luther’s alive. And he knows where Nina is. He paid her a little visit earlier at her restaurant.”

  Martinez leaned forward and looked at Beck intently. “What the hell are you talking about? Kavka was killed by the police six years ago.”

  “I know we all thought that. But the guy’s alive. He faked his death. He’s been hiding out somewhere these past years. And now he’s back.”

  “He faked his…how exactly?” Martinez said.

  “Who knows. Paid off the coroner? Body double? All we know is he did. And now he’s back.”

  Martinez rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth. What does he want? Why come back now?”

  “I’d be willing to guess Nina has a lot to do with it. But likely it’s beyond that. He’s back to run the business I guess.”

  Martinez leaned back and contemplated Beck’s words for a moment. “This is unexpected.”

  “We have to get her to a safe house immediately. He’ll come after her, and soon.”

  Martinez snorted. “You really think that woman is ever going to agree to that?”

  “She already has, sir.”

  “You’ve already made promises without running it up the chain?”

  “What did you expect me to do? She was ready to run. And unless you want to lose a key asset.”

  Martinez twisted his mouth. Beck saw the concession brewing in his dark eyes.

  “What did you offer her?” Martinez said.

  Beck rubbed his chin. “That she could leave the country.”

  Martinez jolted forward. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “I had to tell her something!”

  Martinez groaned and massaged his head. “Fine, whatever. We’ll figure that out later. Make the arrangements for the house on Pine St. The one we use for the Casino stings.”

  “On it.”

  “What do we know about Kavka?”

  Beck pulled up the case notes on his phone. “Luther Blazej Kavka, 43. Born in former Czechoslovakia to low rung farmers. Father Estonian by birth. Emigrated to the U.S. when Kavka was 10. Settled outside of Reno.”

  “Parents still alive?

  Beck scrolled. “His father beat his mother to death when Luther was 15. Been in Ely State Prison since. Luther went into foster care briefly but successfully filed for emancipation shortly after.”

  “Smart fellow,” Martinez said. “Got a picture?”

  Beck held up the screen. Martinez’s eyes went up. “That’s quite the face.”

  Beck studied the picture again. Even Beck had to admit there was something captivating about this man’s eyes. Ethereal and untamed, like the part of a dream you can’t quite remember. He roused curiosities and basal emotions locked deep way in your dark places. No wonder Nina had followed him to the ends of the earth. Beck couldn’t help but count jealousy among the emotions Luther inflicted. Beck felt the darkness boil and fester in the pit of himself.

  “This changes things,” Martinez said. “No need to fuck around with the low hanging fruit. Let’s go for the top coconut. This might just work out even better than we’d hoped. We can still use her as bait.”

  “Sir? She’s not a minnow,” Beck said.

  “If Nina calls, Luther will come.”

  Beck’s stomach turned over.

  “We can’t—”

  “We’ll do what we have to.”

  “You can’t throw her to the lions’ den,” Beck said.

  “I don’t think I heard you correctly, agent.”

  Beck bit down on his tongue. “Whatever you say, sir.”

  “Good. Look, we’ll keep Nina safe. So just do your job.”

  “Permission to go on the record with my opinion sir?” Beck said.

  Martinez smirked. “All ears, Graham.”

  “I think this is a terrible idea.”

  “Your opinion is noted, Graham. But your opinion is respectfully overlooked.”

  

  Nina locked up the restaurant and went home to pack her things. She would have to leave directions for Reina on what to do with the place in her absence. She supposed once she was far enough away, she could figure out a plan for sale.

  Before she made it home, she stopped in town, wanting to take it all in one last time. She didn’t know when, or if, she might ever wander freely down these streets again. She roamed the sleepy streets bathed in the purple haze of twilight. When the town was quiet, the gentle lap of waves floated up from the lake through the corridors.

  She was going to miss this place. The mountains, the pine trees, had been her home and her surrounding her entire life. Even during her time in jail she hadn’t gone far. No matter that she had traveled across oceans and seen exotic places, Lake Tahoe would always be in her soul. It was a place like nowhere else on earth. Wherever she ended up after this was all done, she knew that she would never be complete. A piece of herself would always ache for home. Was this how immigrants had felt boarding ships to cross the Atlantic to America? Knowing what you must do for survival, but knowing your heart will break all the same no matter the motivations?

  The tranquil summer evening was slowly fading into nightfall as a dark blanket crept across the sky. She remembered how as a young girl she used to walk down to the beach on nights like these and stare up at the stars. There were no city lights to overpower the sky’s natural lights. She could sit on the warm white sand and stare off into the nothingness of the seemingly endless lake. Nina sighed with nostalgia.

  Soon, the season would fade and the doldrums of fall would set in, leaving the village quiet and dull in the hangover of summer. The winds of winter chill would whisper through the trees, giving promise of snow and renewed vigor. The evergreens would stand through it all, proudly watching over them until they could bask in their winter glory.

  She got to her house and collected her things, filled up multiple bowls of cat food and water, and left a note for someone to find indicating that she wouldn’t be back and could someone please take care of Toulouse. She made sure the kitty door was unlocked so that in the event no one came Toulouse would be able to at least get out to the woods and hunt. He was a survivor just like her. He'd been feral when she found him, and she knew he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. She rubbed his head and gave him a big kiss.

  “I'm gonna miss you little guy,” she said. “Sorry I can't take you with me.” He purred against her neck and gave her a small claw massage, indicating that he understood. She s
et him down and went to pick up her bag.

  She’d already prepared for this day. She always knew there would be a day where she might have to run.

  Part III

  Sixty percent of women murdered in the United States are killed by a current or former intimate partner. Every nine seconds, a woman is abused.

  - World Health Organization

  Chapter 31

  Nina remembered sitting in that interrogation room, her lawyer by her side, ADA Jane Black staring her down with hard dark eyes through thick-framed glasses. Nina would remember those eyes forever, like a drill right through her chest, directly into her soul.

  She’d clutched a paper cup of bitter black coffee, not even tasting it as the warm liquid slid down her throat.

  “If you cooperate you can walk away from this thing,” ADA Black said. “No jail time, all charges dropped.”

  Nina had laughed incredulously. She'd shaken her head into her hands. She looked at the prosecutor. “You’ll never get a win with this case if that’s how narrowly you think.”

  ADA Black looked at her curiously. “Care to be more specific?”

  “No jail time? I'll be dead in a minute,” Nina said.

  “So you want to serve time?”

  “No, I need to serve time. Send me to a minimum security on a reduced sentence,” Nina said.

  ADA Black stroked her blonde bob and laughed. “I didn’t think you’d be the one with the deal strategy, Miss Sullivan. So what you're asking is for us to charge you with a minor offense and put you away for a couple of years?”

  Nina’s lawyer looked at her sharply. “Nina, are you sure about this?”

  ADA Black concurred. “Yes, Nina, are you certain you understand what you're asking? I urge you to reconsider this.”

  “Yes,” Nina said with certainty. “I know if I get out of here without being charged, they’re going to one hundred percent know that I rolled. But if you convict me on something, and I serve some time, I might be safe. You can state you didn’t have enough evidence to convict me of the greater crime. So, I still do my time and hopefully live to see another day. Meanwhile you get your man.”