The Fixer

by HelenKay Dimon

  The senator cleared her voice. She also rolled her eyes. “That’s not helpful.”

  Something in her tone or comment must have spurred him on because he started talking without being prompted. “Thirteen years ago I was in graduate school.”

  “Where?”

  He shook his head. “Nowhere near here.”

  She wanted to yell, “Gotcha!” but settled for a self-satisfied smirk. “I didn’t say where Tiffany disappeared from.”

  “Touché.” For a second a smile edged the corner of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared. “Still, you have the wrong man, Ms. Finn.”

  “Because you say so?”

  He stood up. Without warning or any fanfare he pushed his chair closer to the desk and rebuttoned his suit jacket. “We’ve met, as you wanted, so you can now stop digging for information on me and move on.”

  There is no way he could think those answers satisfied her. “You are an arrogant ass.”

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that.” He glanced over at the senator. “Thanks for the lovely meeting.”

  As he pivoted to leave, Emery shot up and stood in front of him. Didn’t touch him, but stepped right into his path, daring him to push past her. Heat rolled off his body and smacked into her. This close she could see the whiskers on his chin. Even fought the urge to run a finger over them.

  She should hate him, be scared of him—something. He stood for everything she hated. He used his power to push people around. He’d basically threatened her. Forget the whole stupidly handsome thing, that dark, mysterious quality that had her wanting to know more. It wasn’t as if he’d ever even been nice to her. She’d been searching and he had the answers and he hid. She shouldn’t be short of breath. Shouldn’t have this cloud of confusion muddling her brain.

  “Well?” He looked down as if waiting to see what she planned to do.

  Good question. She’d only thought this far. “You can’t leave.”

  “Watch me.” He stepped around her.

  She shifted in front of him a second time. “Wren . . .”

  She grabbed on to the sleeve of his jacket and he immediately stopped. When her hand dropped again, he nodded and left. Walked right to the door without even bothering to look back.

  Emery just stood there, stuck to the spot. Her legs refused to move and the air whistled in her lungs. It took all of her energy to think through the conversation she just had. A noise broke through. It took another few seconds for her to realize the senator was talking to her. Emery spun around to face her.

  “Emery, please sit down.”

  She couldn’t do anything but stand there. “He just got up and left.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “It’s sort of his go-to move for exiting a room.”

  Emery couldn’t process the last five minutes. “Him, as in Brian or Wren or whatever we’re calling him.”

  “He’s Wren. He goes by Brian Jacobs so that people don’t know he’s actually Wren. It’s a shield of sorts.” The senator cleared her throat. “Very few people know who he really is. I’ve seen him badgered by the best and never admit he’s Wren.”

  “But he told me.” Which didn’t make sense. Like, not at all.

  “Interesting, isn’t it?”

  Emery didn’t know what that meant or why the senator kept biting back a smile. She felt anything but amused and happy. “I have been searching for him for . . . longer than I want to admit. I didn’t know if he was a ‘him’ and not an ‘it’ for months. He answers a few questions with vague responses and takes off.”

  “I know Wren. He is not the man you’re looking for.” The sincerity was right there in the senator’s voice, in the softening around her eyes that signaled concern.

  “Then explain to me who he really is, and I’m not talking about the name. I mean the man.”

  “That is not my story to tell.” The senator shrugged. “But it appears he wants to share with you, so who knows what you’ll be able to find out.”

  Emery ignored the strange vibration under the senator’s words. “His name was in the file.”

  She wanted to believe that the senator was telling the truth, but if she was that meant the lead had gone nowhere. Emery didn’t have another string to pull.

  She’d been searching her entire adult life. She took the job she did as a way to help Tiffany. After seeing all those faces and being plowed under by all that pain, the job had become more than a vow she intended to honor, but she’d made that promise to find answers.

  The senator shook her head. “I can’t explain that. I really don’t know why that would be.”

  That gave Emery hope, but not really. Not real hope. The idea of squaring off with a guy like Wren—not old and ready to admit to his sins, but someone young and totally wrong—left her shaking. “Then he can tell me.”

  “You need to be careful. Maybe heed his warning to back off.” When Emery started to argue, the senator held up a hand and talked louder. “And, of course, as I say that, I remember what you do for a living and realize you have no intention of letting this drop, do you?”

  “No.” After a lifetime of guilt she could not just let it go. Tiffany deserved more. She could be out there. Emery knew only a shocking case of good luck had spared her and doomed Tiffany. Even now, after all those years and all that therapy, Emery had trouble living with that.

  The senator hummed. “This will certainly be interesting to watch.”

  That’s not the word Emery would pick. “You could help me.”

  “I just did.”

  Emery tried to appreciate that. She understood the senator had probably taken risks and called in favors to get Wren there. But the not-being-able-to-keep-him-there thing was a big hole in the plan. “He walked out on me without providing one bit of usable information.”

  The senator leaned forward with both arms resting on her desk. “Do you honestly think a man like that is just going to forget the accusations you made against him and go away?”

  “I didn’t actually accuse him . . .” Emery saw the senator’s eyes widen and rushed to keep from veering too far off the truth path. “Okay, I did.”

  “He’s not someone who’s accustomed to having his integrity challenged.”

  Yeah, she’d picked up on that. “I don’t really care.”

  “You are one of the few people he’s agreed to meet.”

  Not that she understood why. He’d cornered her in the coffee shop then showed up in this office. Neither seemed in character or made much sense. Maybe he liked games and this was all some big joke to him.

  Emery hung on to that explanation. That one made it easy to see him as the enemy and hold her edge. With him as the jerk, possibly a dangerous one. She could forget the high cheekbones and athletic build. Ignore the near-perfect face.

  “He’s powerful. I get that.” Possibly even more powerful than she expected. “But you have to agree he can be a little much.”

  The senator smiled. “You have no idea.”

  The senator actually liked the guy. That fact hit Emery out of nowhere. The senator didn’t tolerate Wren or fear him. This wasn’t about her office or him being a donor. No, on some level Emery knew their bond ran deeper. She’d found something redeeming in him and that caught Emery’s interest. “Fill me in.”

  “I’ll leave it to him.”

  Emery didn’t love that possibility. If he kept showing up while she drank her coffee she’d need to switch to decaf. “That sounds ominous.”

  “When Wren wants to know more, and he will, he’ll find you.” The senator managed to make that sound like a good thing.

  Emery wasn’t convinced. “I’m not sure being near him is all that safe or smart.”

  “He’s harmless, or he will be to you.” The senator sat back in her chair again. “Besides that, I like the idea of him having to work for it.”

  Once again the conversation looped around and Emery totally got lost. Much more of this and her headache might become permanent. “For what exa
ctly?”

  “Anything.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Emery dropped her duffel bag on the floor beside her desk chair. Next came the purse. She threw that, nearly knocking over one of the walls of her cubicle. Apparently she was a bit more tense than she thought. So much for the theory that the walk from the metro would help clear her mind.

  Her chair spun when she sat down. She had to grab on to the edge of the desk to keep from twirling. She was not in a twirling mood.

  She toed off her sneakers and leaned over to dig through her bag. One jerk and the zipper got stuck in the material. She tugged and the tracks went crooked. She couldn’t get the teeth to come loose.

  “That’s just freaking great.” She let the bag fall back to the floor with a thud and stared down at her socks. Another win for office decorum.

  Phones rang on the main line. She glanced at the little lights and saw three people on hold. Looked like the usual busy day at the Jane Doe Network.

  Before Emery could play phone backup, Caroline Montgomery stepped into the small space, all tall and sure and in charge. “You seem to be in a good mood.”

  She’d joined the organization in her early thirties and now ran it ten years later. She functioned as listener, mentor and head ass-kicker, depending on what Emery needed at that moment. But mostly, she was a friend. Smart and committed with two kids and a partner at home. Emery coveted her long auburn hair and . . . well, everything. Caroline had the whole balanced-life, good-person combination down.

  By comparison, Emery felt like an unmade bed. Today she blamed Brian or Wren—or whatever he was calling himself—for the messy sensation. “This day basically sucks.”

  After a quick glance at her watch, Caroline frowned. “It’s not even lunchtime.”

  God, was it even that late? “Exactly.”

  “I guess I don’t need to ask how the meeting with the senator went.” Caroline stepped around the cubicle wall and leaned against the edge of Emery’s desk. “Did she even agree to see you?”

  Caroline had money connections and worked them hard. She raised the cash and filed the paperwork that brought in the funding and kept the lights on. As her assistant and one of only five paid staffers, Emery ran the hundred volunteers and kept the workload afloat. One of the benefits was that she enjoyed a good relationship with Senator Dayton, but today it had flipped sideways on her at some point.

  Now to explain that to Caroline.

  Emery flopped back in her chair. “Oh, she invited me in.”

  “That sounds . . . stop shaking your head and tell me what happened.” Caroline sounded open and eager to hear the details, but she crossed her arms in front of her. Not a good sign.

  “She had a guest.” Emery still hadn’t dislodged her stomach from her throat from the surprise of walking in and seeing him in the office. “The guy I told you about from the coffee place yesterday.”

  Caroline’s eyes widened. “The creepy one with the hot outer wrapping.”

  The words screeched across Emery’s brain. “Who said hot?”

  Okay, he was. Objectively. She could admit that much. She’d never gone for the moody type. And the whole careful-word-choice thing? So annoying. But the perfect-body, perfect-face combo did have some merit. Not that she remembered saying any of that to Caroline.

  “Uh, you did.” Caroline smiled. “You danced around it a bit, but I could decipher the code words.”

  “I’m going to pretend that never happened.” Emery needed to focus on the other side. The not-hot side. “Creepy is more accurate. He actually showed up on my street last night.”

  Caroline dropped her arms. “What?”

  “No, it was fine.” She put up a hand to stop Caroline when she headed for the phone. “I threatened him with a bat.”

  When Emery didn’t say anything else, Caroline sighed. “Okay, we’ll come back to that. So, this Wren sent his minion to a meeting with you and the senator.” She shrugged. “That sounds like progress. Sort of.”

  It also sounded like her very smart boss was not understanding what really happened. Emery tried again. “Wren.”

  Caroline froze. “What?”

  Now she was getting it. “The creepy guy is Wren.”

  Caroline’s frown only deepened. “Wait . . .”

  “No minion. The guy with the coffee was actually Wren. He identified himself and the senator confirmed it. I think they’re friends, but who the hell knows.” They could be anything to each other, and Emery did not want to study that line of thought too much.

  Some of the color left Caroline’s face. “What did you say to him?”

  “I asked him about Tiffany.” Like she’d been waiting to do forever. Not that it helped. Emery knew she’d replay every word, fixating on how she could have handled the interview better and learned more. The desperate worry she’d blown it churned in her gut. At this rate she’d never be able to eat again.

  All of the brightness drained from Caroline’s face, leaving her looking drawn, almost pained. “You asked the man you described as having a dangerous vibe if he kidnapped your cousin right off the street and never returned her?”

  Now Emery understood the look. The senator might have been there for the initial talk, but she wouldn’t always be there. That left a lot of wiggle room for Wren to do something very bad. Emery didn’t think he would. It was just a feeling, one with no basis in reality because she knew absolutely nothing about him other than his love for black business suits and sentences with too many words, and both of those struck her as over the top.

  Maybe she trusted the senator’s instincts. Emery couldn’t really explain it, but part of her did worry that this is how men like Wren got what they wanted. They won women over. Unlucky for him, she possessed more than the usual amount of distrust when it came to strangers insisting they were safe. “I was more subtle than that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Emery pretended Caroline didn’t look horrified and two seconds away from calling 9–1–1. “He said he didn’t do it and left,” Emery explained.

  Silence descended in the cubicle. Phones rang in the office. The sounds of conversation floated around and people laughed over by the kitchenette. But in that cubicle for those few seconds everything stopped.

  After some rapid blinking Caroline spoke again. “There had to be more than that.”

  “I talk with law enforcement people all day. Have conversations with people who have lost loved ones. When it came to this guy I got three questions out, he blew off two of them and walked out.” Thinking back Emery wasn’t even sure she got to ask three full questions. She certainly didn’t get much in the way of answers.

  “Was he angry?”

  Emery swiveled her chair back and forth and searched for the right way to describe it. The words didn’t come. Probably because Wren was sort of hard to decipher. You kind of had to experience him to believe it. “I don’t even know how to tell.”

  “But you have somewhere to start, right?” Someone called out to Caroline, but she shook her head and kept her focus on Emery. “Now we have a name and we know the senator has some background intel. You can investigate from there.”

  “As if what I’ve said isn’t weird enough, try this: no.”

  “What are you answering?”

  Emery couldn’t blame her boss for the confusion. She guessed she wore the same sort of pinched look, wrinkled brown expression in the senator’s office. “We have a name—Brian Jacobs.”

  “Who is that?”

  Good freaking question. “Wren.”

  Caroline shook her head. It looked like she was trying to figure out what was happening. “You lost me. Again.”

  That made two of them. “That’s the name Wren uses. And on the subject of Wren, I don’t know his name.”

  Caroline sputtered a few times before getting any words out. “I don’t—”

  “It could be a first name or a last name. I have no clue.”

  “I wish I knew what question to ask n
ext.”

  “Now you know how it feels to have a conversation with Wren. It’s like wading through peanut butter.” That didn’t really nail it, but Emery didn’t have anything else. She feared she’d spend a good part of the evening thinking about Wren and trying to come up with another description.

  Some of the color rushed back into Caroline’s face. “Interesting metaphor.”

  “You didn’t see him. You didn’t try to understand his sentences.”

  When another person called out Caroline’s name, she held up a finger and nodded. “Someone clearly wants to talk to me, but I’m intrigued with your visit. I want to know more.”

  “He’s probably a kidnapper and a killer.” Emery could almost imagine him sitting in his house alone, tapping his fingers together as he plotted his next crime.

  “Right, you don’t believe that.” Caroline stood up. “Doesn’t matter. Figure it out.”

  Not exactly the you can’t do this . . . be careful response Emery expected. “What?”

  “This is what you do for other people. Do it here. Call the detective who was on the case. Talk to your dad and to . . .” Caroline drifted off for a second. “What’s with that look?”

  Emery hadn’t even tried to hide the wince. “I forgot I have dinner with Dad tonight.”

  “You sound thrilled.”

  Her father tended to lapse into full-on professor mode every Monday night, just as she arrived. He talked philosophy and got all haughty. He reiterated how much he despised her job and her reluctance to get a master’s degree.

  He didn’t exactly hide that she was a complete embarrassment to him. Emery hated to think how he described her when he got together with his professor friends. She bet he frowned a lot. “He hates it when I talk about Tiffany.”

  Caroline snorted. “Tough shit.”

  Yeah, that’s what Emery thought, too. He never seemed to care that Tiffany was his niece, the daughter of his wife’s baby sister. He saw Tiffany as an extension of her mother and he hated Aunt Louise. Thought she drank too much, liked to party too much, wasn’t serious enough. Certainly wasn’t good enough for his best friend, Gavin, and only brought his wife down when the sisters got together.