Re/Bound

by Michele Zurlo

  Opening the heavy wood door revealed a tall man in a suit. His light brown hair was combed forward and tamed with product, yet he still managed to exude an air of authority. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but Darcy recognized him anyway.

  “You're the man from the butterfly house.” Malcolm had introduced her to his partner before he slept with her. Was that like obtaining preapproval before spending agency resources?

  “I'm Special Agent Keith Rossetti. Can we come in, Ms. Markovich?”

  Glancing around him, she saw that Malcolm hadn't come up on the porch. No doubt he was ready to go around back in case she made a break for it. “I suppose it's that or you'll drag me down to the station for questioning again. Plus Special Agent Dickhead has a key, so that's pretty much an open invitation, isn't it?”

  The dark glasses came off in a sharp, authoritative gesture worthy of any Will Smith movie. His eyes were green, his expression somber. “We don't want to go that far. We just want to talk, that's all.”

  She wanted to tell them both to go to hell, and she wanted to hear an explanation that would make the hollow ache in her chest go away. She narrowed her eyes, pivoted on one heel, and walked away. She left the door open. That was all the invitation she planned to offer.

  She headed to the kitchen where she'd left a sink full of breakfast dishes and ran the water to make it hot. The agents entered the kitchen when water filled the tub halfway. She added dish soap and watched the white bubbles form.

  “Ms. Markovich, it's imperative we have your word that Agent Legato's true identity will remain a secret.”

  She liked to wash the plates first. Doing the dishes had a soothing order about it, and packing them into the drying rack so they all fit had a rewarding symmetry. She dismissed all the nasty retorts that came to mind. “I don't plan on bragging about this kind of humiliation to anyone. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't exist. We'll all pretend we didn't waste the last six weeks in one another's company.”

  And she would pretend the father of her child hadn't been using her as he looked for ways to put her away for a crime she hadn't committed.

  Forks and cups clean, and they showed no signs of leaving. There just weren't enough dishes to keep her busy for much longer. “Ms. Markovich, this investigation has reached a rather critical point. We're very close to a break in the case.”

  She attacked a pan. Theo had made pancakes. “And what break is that, Agent Rossetti? I don't know anything more than what I've told the police already. You're wasting your time here, but that's not surprising. Fucking cops excel at wasting time.”

  A hand reached over her shoulder and halted the flow of hot water. Darcy stiffened as Malcolm's arm brushed against hers. His heady scent rocked her senses. “I saw your interview tapes, and I saw footage of what the police did to your house when they searched it. I understand why you hate cops, but you need to put this in perspective. They wanted to psych you out. They were just doing their jobs.”

  The desire to elbow him sharply in the ribs conflicted with the need to lean into his body and feel his strong arms holding her tight. She grasped her anger and held it like a lover. It was the only thing she could trust right now. “And you were just doing your job. Do you honestly think I had anything to do with Scott's disappearance? Is that what you've found out in all the time you've spent with me? That I could hurt the man I loved?” She breathed through the sharp pain in her heart. Heartbreak felt a lot like a heart attack. “You've no doubt had a chance to search every square inch of this place. Did you find anything?”

  His arms came down on either side of her, and his hands rested on the ledge in front of the sink. Fortunately he didn't touch her. She didn't know how long she could hold out if he touched her. “No, I didn't. I also searched the items the police confiscated as part of their investigation. It's all in federal custody now.”

  She shivered and consoled herself with the false knowledge that the reaction was generated by fear. “I feel violated on a whole new level. Am I in federal custody now?”

  “We're not after you, Darcy. We're after Snyder. We know you carry a lot of weight with him. You were supposed to provide an introduction, that's all.” The low cadence of his voice washed over her frayed nerves. It would be so easy to lean back, to let him close his arms around her and manipulate her into doing or saying whatever would make his case.

  She clutched her fury closer and shook her head. “If you weren't after me, you would have told me who you were from the beginning and simply asked me for an introduction. Why are you after Victor? He's a control freak, but he's not a bad guy. He was there for me when your buddies dragged me in and treated me like shit.”

  “Would you have helped me if I came up to you and introduced myself as Special Agent Malcolm Legato with the FBI? You know as well as I do that you would have told me to fuck off.” Harsh emotion vibrated from his body.

  Shivering, she folded her arms over her stomach. She should have told him to fuck off anyway. What business did she have being happy while Scott... No, she couldn't go there again. Guilt and grief would eat her alive, but this time it would be compounded by all the stupid things she'd done since then.

  “Darcy, I cleared you as a suspect that first night.” A throat cleared nearby, reminding them they weren't alone. “Keith cleared you after he met you. I ended up not needing you to get an introduction to Snyder, but I did need you to land the job that let me investigate his networks for evidence of a whole host of crimes.”

  For a second, the sunlight glinted off something in her neighbor's yard and blinded her through the window. She blamed it for the water in her eyes. She exhaled, her better sense winning this battle. It did explain why he'd taken forever to put up the charity part of the Web site.

  She desperately wanted this to be over so she could curl up in bed and never get up again. “Fine. You're investigating Victor. I won't blow the whistle on you. I'll come in Monday, wrap up my part in this farce, and then I'm dumping Theo. You can stay in Victor's good graces, and I never have to see you again.”

  “That's not going to work.” Agent Rossetti came to stand near her right side. Malcolm removed his arm, backing off to flank her left side. “Snyder wants you as a condition to letting Theo deeper into his organization. We need you to go to that dinner party Thursday night and accept the PR job he's going to offer you. It needs to look like Theo, as your Master, is guiding your decision.”

  She started and stepped back, the heat of embarrassment suffusing her neck and cheeks. “You told Victor you were my Master?”

  Malcolm shook his head. “I didn't have to. He knew about your relationship with Scott. He not only assumed we had the same kind of relationship, he saw us last week on the security cameras. We had an unscheduled meeting after you left. After you warned me about him. I promised him I could deliver your cooperation.”

  Bile, bitter and hot, shot up her esophagus. He had used her, betrayed her, and used her again. She ran to the bathroom and lost her lunch. Gentle hands wrangled her hair out of the way. When the heaving stopped, he helped her up. This half bathroom had nowhere to sit, so he leaned her against the counter and flushed her lunch away.

  Darcy closed her eyes and let her head bang as it fell against the wall. Water ran, and a cool cloth wiped away the cold sweat from her face and neck.

  He rinsed the cloth, folded it, and put it on the back of her neck. “Hold that there. It's shock. It'll pass in a little while.

  Whether it was shock or not, his tender care tore down the last of her defenses, not that she felt very strong or brave. Sinking to the floor, she buried her face in her knees and sobbed. “You used me. You used me, and I fell for you. How could I be so stupid?”

  His arm came around her from one side, and he tried to raise her head with his other hand. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

  The anger came back full force. He had no right to call her by a term of endearment. Her head shot up, and she nailed him with all the malice in her body. “Don't call m
e that. Don't you ever call me that again.”

  He flinched, and sadness flickered in his eyes. “Darcy, nothing that happened between us was part of this case. I wasn't Theo when I was with you. I was me. Every moment I spent with you, everything I said to you, that came from me. I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe that.”

  The pain in his eyes was too much to bear. If she wasn't careful, she'd fall for his lies again. She let her head fall back, not caring when she cracked it against the cabinet. “You lied to me. I find anything you have to say difficult to believe.”

  He exhaled hard, a tired sound. “Fine. If you won't do it for me, do it for Scott. We have reason to believe Scott found out what Victor was doing, and that's why Victor had him killed. I need to get into Victor's house. I need him to trust me enough to let me deeper into his organization.”

  The bile tried for a repeat performance, but she had nothing left. She swallowed it down, but the pain stayed behind. Carefully she lifted her head to meet Malcolm's eyes. “You're telling me Victor had Scott killed because Scott had evidence of illegal activities?” She shook her head. “But Victor was good to me. He helped... Why does Victor want me to work for him so badly? It can't be to keep me close so he can keep an eye on me. He's been after me since before Scott went missing.”

  Malcolm shrugged. “He wants your face to represent his company. Have you never seen yourself speak, Darcy? Do you honestly have no idea how you captivate a room with your voice, your grace, and your friendly personality? You might battle nerves to get there, but you're one of the most gifted speakers I've ever seen. He could use someone like you to smooth over lots of problems. He uses people like Mickey Halter to deal with the problems diplomacy doesn't solve.”

  She turned the idea over and over in her mind. Even after she kicked Malcolm out of the bathroom so she could freshen up, little things Scott had said and done flashed through her mind. He had urged her away from Victor, and his convictions had become very resolute about six weeks before he disappeared.

  Whenever he got really bothered about something, he worked on the dishwasher he never could seem to fix. Her intuition kicked into gear. Exiting the bathroom, she found Malcolm and Keith sitting at her kitchen table.

  Malcolm looked up expectantly. His gaze roamed her body and came to rest on her face.

  “The dishwasher. It doesn't make sense that Scott couldn't fix it. He could fix anything. I don't know exactly what you're looking for, but he would never hide electronic evidence anywhere that could be networked.” If they found the evidence there, she wouldn't have to continue this farce. Attending Vic's dinner party would be completely unnecessary.

  Malcolm headed for Scott's tools while Darcy found a drop cloth. She didn't want her wood floor scuffed up. Scott had always put down a canvas cloth before he wrestled the appliance from its hidey-hole.

  She watched anxiously as Malcolm and Keith removed the panels, searching every inch for anything out of the ordinary. They stripped it of component parts. Each of them grabbed a piece and began taking it apart. Darcy wanted to stop watching. This was too much like what her place looked like after it had been searched, only then it wasn't just her dishwasher. They had taken everything out of her cupboards and drawers.

  She stepped around the mess in her kitchen and made a pot of herbal tea.

  Sitting at the table, sipping tea, she battled the feeling that reality was disintegrating as she watched. Victor, the man she thought of as a friend, was responsible for having Scott killed. He had destroyed her life to stop Scott from exposing him and to make her dependent on him. Victor had lied to her and used her.

  Theo, the man on whom she had allowed herself to become dependent, didn't exist. Malcolm, whose mother said he saw the seedy underbelly of humanity all the time, had also lied to her and used her. His motives were honorable, but his methods had left her with a broken heart.

  Clouds dimmed the weakening sun as afternoon turned to evening. She had another cup of tea and some stew from the night before.

  The two men on the floor worked silently, breaking the tense stillness with occasional short questions or comments. Keith removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Malcolm—how easily she fell into calling him by the different name—wore the same pants and polo shirt he'd donned before leaving the house that morning. He looked like the same man. He smelled like the same man. He moved like the same man. But he wasn't the same man. Was he?

  Suddenly she couldn't take it anymore. She went upstairs and packed an overnight bag. His toothbrush stuck out from the holder right next to hers. He'd left his watch on her dresser. An issue of Popular Science lay on the nightstand next to a coiled length of rope.

  Who was this man who had insinuated himself so deeply into her life?

  She put her bag by the front door. Muted sounds of conversation drifted from the kitchen. She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she stood in the doorway. They hadn't moved much.

  Malcolm held up a chip that was about twice the size of her camera's memory card. “That's a huge processor.”

  Keith took it and studied it closely. “Huge.”

  “I'm leaving.” The statement had come out a little froggy, so Darcy cleared her throat. Both men looked up, but she found it easier to speak if she addressed Keith. “Please lock up when you finish here.”

  Keith's gaze slid to Malcolm.

  Darcy had to look at him as well. “Leave your key under the doormat. I'll get it when I come home.”

  Malcolm got to his feet slowly, as if moving too quickly would startle her. “Darcy, it's late. You've had a hell of a day, and you're wiped out. I can see how tired you are. Why don't you just go to bed?”

  And sleep in the bed where he'd made love to her so often and so well? No, not with those memories still fresh, and not with his things littering her house.

  “Please make sure you take your personal things with you when you go.”

  Before she could say more or make a fool of herself by falling in his arms and begging him to stay, she turned on her heel and exited the room. Tears blurred her vision, but she managed to hold off the deluge until she got to her sister's house.

  Amy's little brick ranch on the north side of Ann Arbor wasn't far away, but the eight-minute drive took forever. She hadn't called first, and she didn't know if her sister would be home. After all, it was Saturday night, and Amy might have a date.

  The moment her sister opened the door, Darcy fell inside and a mass of tears fell from her eyes. Amy guided her to the couch, grabbed tissues and a glass of water from the kitchen, and then drew Darcy's head to her shoulder.

  “Darcy, did something happen with Theo?”

  Unable to speak or raise her head, Darcy nodded. Amy smoothed her hand along her sister's hair, petting her until she calmed down enough to speak. The pang in her heart just wouldn't subside.

  “He's an undercover FBI agent, and I'm his case.” She drew away from the shock and horror that made Amy's body go stiff, and blew her nose. Then she looked back at her sister's wide blue eyes. They really did resemble one another, something she didn't often notice.

  Amy shook her head. “I saw you together. You're not just a case to him.”

  Malcolm had said much the same thing, most likely to spare her feelings. He needed her cooperation, which meant he had to either have her goodwill or he had to blackmail her.

  Darcy shook her head. “He said he cleared me of Scott's murder, but he needed me to get close to Victor because he thinks Vic is into some dirty dealings, and he thinks Vic did something to Scott because Scott found out about them.” She sniffled and grabbed for more tissue.

  For several seconds, Amy stared in silent surprise. Then she squeezed Darcy's hand. “Do you think that's true?”

  Darcy shrugged her shoulder in a way that indicated she truly didn't know, but she didn't doubt the validity of the claim. “Vic paid for my lawyer when the cops brought me in for questioning that one time. He's been so su
pportive of me. But Scott didn't like him. He didn't want me working for Vic. He was particularly adamant those last few weeks.”

  She thought about it all again, random snapshots of events playing through her head. Amy handed her the glass of water, and she drank it.

  “At least he's working a different angle to the case. And he told you about himself, so that counts in his favor.”

  Darcy narrowed her eyes and stared at the half-empty glass in her hand. “He didn't tell me. It turns out he's the cousin of a friend of mine. We showed up at the same event.”

  Seeing him there, smiling at his mother in greeting, had made her feel hollow inside. He had used her. She had fallen in love with a man who had used her for her connections.

  Amy stared at her, studying her with a calculating expression. “What did he say when you confronted him? Exactly.”

  The worst of her tears had dried. “He showed up at my house with another agent and explained what he suspects about Victor.” She dabbed a fresh tissue at the remaining wetness on her cheeks. “I got so upset at the whole situation that I threw up. Malcolm—that's his name—told me he wasn't pretending. That he'd meant every moment he spent with me.”

  She desperately wanted to believe it was true, but he had too many reasons for needing her cooperation.

  Amy smoothed a strand of hair back from Darcy's face. “I don't think he lied about that. I've seen the two of you together. The way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he talks to you—it wasn't an act. Nobody is that good unless it's authentic.”

  Wanting to believe it and afraid to trust in something that would just crush her even more, Darcy shook her head. “It's funny. I woke up yesterday morning and decided to clean out Scott's stuff so I could move forward with my life. Then I discovered I was pregnant. I was going to tell Theo tonight, but he's not Theo anymore. I don't know who Malcolm is.”