Trigger

by S. G. Redling

  “Things aren’t going to get much easier for you, hun.”

  Cara glanced at the rearview mirror. No response from the driver. Good.

  She stowed her tablet and closed her eyes, resting for the remainder of the trip.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Of course, Choo-Choo mastered the lime green shirt and ugly shorts Olivia dug out of her closet for him. It looked more like the Choo-Choo of Florida that Dani was used to. Olivia even had a pair of flip-flops that fit him.

  “I think they’re Teddy’s. Or maybe Freddie’s,” she said, pulling them out from beneath some boxes in a hall closet.

  “Your brothers?” Dani asked her.

  She nodded at Choo-Choo. “His siblings. Teddy and Freddie are the twins.”

  “I don’t think I met them.”

  The cousins both snickered.

  “Uh, yeah, Dani. You just watched Teddy give a press conference on the steps of St. John’s. You know, senator? Tall?”

  “Oh right, Teddy.” Dani said. “Senator Elizabeth Meeks is Teddy. And your mom is Jack and your dad is Connie? Got it.”

  “Says the girl named Dani.”

  “That’s fair.”

  Olivia flopped down on the couch beside her cousin, not bothering to move the hardcover books on the seat but rather squishing them into the gaps of the seat cushions. “Oh, the Charbaneauxs are famous for their nicknames. Everybody has at least one. Now we Wrens, we don’t bother with that foolishness. We identify each other by the bruises and black eyes we give each other.”

  When Dani said nothing at their easy laugher, Olivia explained. “I’ve got two sisters and three brothers, and every day is Fight Club. It can be a little shocking if you’re not used to it but brawling just seems to be the easiest way we’ve found to keep the family balance.”

  “Wow,” Dani said, considering the bookish looking woman before her. “In Oklahoma, a family brawl will get the cops called.”

  Choo-Choo sighed. “You’re a long way from Oklahoma.”

  Dani shifted in the seat, tucking her feet underneath her. The phone, hidden in her right pocket, dug into her thigh. Everything felt wrong. She wanted to tell Choo-Choo about her encounter with Booker. She wanted to tell him about the tracker she swore she could now feel pulsing beneath the scar on her shoulder. She wanted to scream at him to turn back into the Choo-Choo who was her best and only real friend. The Choo-Choo of the dismissive gaze and late-night restlessness, the shared looks of hidden anger and untold secrets.

  Instead she got the Choo-Choo of New York City, the breezy, glorious boy she had first met at Rasmund so long ago. Back then, she used to refer to him in her mind as Viking porn. Back then, she’d had a well-buried crush and thought he was as unobtainable as a lottery win.

  Back then was a long time ago. Back then everything was different.

  How was he slipping back into his old role so easily?

  “Where were you, Dani?”

  Dani snapped from her reverie. Had she spoken aloud? Had they seen her drift off?

  “I was just thinking. Sorry. I guess I’m tired.”

  “No,” he said, watching her with unreadable eyes. “After the funeral. When the bomb, or whatever it was, went off? I looked for you as soon as everyone started freaking out and I couldn’t find you. Then we find you running down 111th Street like you were sightseeing. You just decided to take off?”

  The anger that flared up in her surprised her with its heat.

  “No, I didn’t just decide to take off. I was being crushed out there.” She tried and failed to keep the venom from her voice. “I wasn’t allowed inside the rarified space of the family. I had to stick with my own kind, as it were.”

  Choo-Choo stared. “How long have you been holding that in?”

  Before she could answer, someone knocked at the door. Olivia looked relieved as she jumped off the couch to answer. Dani held Choo-Choo’s stare, neither looking away until Olivia returned with Cara Hedrick in tow.

  “How’s everybody doing?” Cara asked with a wide smile. “Everyone okay after all the confusion? That was quite a dust up out there today.”

  “I think we’re all fine,” Olivia said, hurrying to clear off what looked like rock-climbing gear from a chair near the fireplace. “Please sit. Can I get you anything?”

  “Me? No, I’m fine.” Cara settled onto the chair, ignoring the clattering of equipment behind her. Something inside Dani’s chest relaxed at her easy manner. At the very least, she was a distraction from whatever was brewing between her and Choo-Choo.

  “So, part of my job is asking a lot of boring questions.” Cara fished out a tablet from her purse and swiped it to life. “I’d love to tell you this is the most boring part of my job but I’m afraid that’s a high bar to get over. Most of my job is super boring. At least right now I get to get out of the car and away from all the reporters. What a madhouse it’s been.”

  “Did everyone get home okay? Mom and Dad? Teddy?” Choo-Choo’s concern lit a tiny burner of guilt in Dani’s heart.

  “They’re all safe and sound, although I didn’t send them home. They’re all at the Intercontinental. Roughing it.” She laughed, throwing Dani a quick conspiratorial wink.

  “Do they know what happened?” Dani asked, hoping her concern might thaw out that look Choo-Choo had graced her with.

  Cara shrugged. “Fortunately, it was nothing serious. A smoke cannister. Really just a glorified firecracker designed more for chaos than destruction. Someone just wanted some attention, I suppose. Of course, that’s the preliminary report. The agents are still looking into it, scanning security video from the area, which is everywhere. They’re going to—what is it, Dani? Are you okay?”

  Dani froze, or more accurately, remained in what she thought was a still position. When everyone turned to look at her, she felt her face burn. “I’m fine.” She tried sounding so. “I just hate crowds. It’s been a long day.” That last word got choked in a hiccup when the phone under her leg buzzed against her skin. Could they hear it? Had it vibrated against the leather?

  Like the world’s worst surprise party, all the thought boxes in her head sprung open at once, not a single one with any good advice so Dani went with a classic.

  “I’ve got to pee. I need the bathroom. My stomach is…”

  She let that hang there as she launched herself from the chair to the hallway where she had seen the bathroom. On one hand, it was a terrible play. It made her look suspicious and weird. On the other hand, there were very few situations in which human beings would delay anyone rushing toward a toilet with questionable stomach issues.

  She prayed a silent prayer to the empty heavens that the phone would neither fall out of her pocket nor suddenly find a way to make any sort of noise to give itself away.

  As she closed the bathroom door, she heard Cara’s tone return to its easygoing conversational level and she felt another wave of gratitude. Maybe Cara knew the pressure she was under, knew what it was like to be the outsider in so many significant ways around this enormous and powerful family.

  The phone buzzed again.

  Dani made sure to lock the door before fishing the cheap phone out of her pocket. There were two texts messages waiting for her. At least Booker wasn’t trying to chat this time.

  It will be tough contacting you for the immediate future. Keep this phone with you. I’m working on a plan to get the tracker out of your shoulder.

  Of course, Tom Booker texted in complete, fully punctuated sentences.

  Is there any way you can remain in the city for the time being?

  “I’m not exactly the captain of my own ship here, Tom.” Dani’s thumbs hovered over the buttons. How was she supposed to answer this? Was she supposed to answer him? Shouldn’t she tell Choo-Choo about the phone and the trackers and the fact that she just took a ride with the man who tried to kill them both? If she answered him, she was complicit in any plans he was making. If she answered
him, she was agreeing to opening up another dialogue with this dangerous man.

  On the other hand, Booker had told her about the tracker. He hadn’t hurt her except for a few bruises when he’d gotten her into the van. (Kidnapped you, a helpful voice chimed in. Ignored.)

  The phone buzzed again.

  I realize it might be difficult for you to find time to access the phone. I don’t want to put you in any more danger, but we need to act soon. I can explain more next time we talk.

  Next time we talk. Good Lord. Dani felt that familiar feeling of the floor tilting beneath her. Any more danger, Tom? Aren’t you the most dangerous element in my life?

  She caught herself. That wasn’t really true, was it? On Redemption Key, when she’d been face to face with Joaquin Wheeler, Booker had shown up, but he hadn’t hurt her. He didn’t threaten her. On the contrary, he had helped her finish the gruesome work she had begun. He had helped her in ways that horrified the jaded crime scene investigators.

  Was this what her life had come to? She couldn’t talk with Choo-Choo but was instead going to make plans with Tom Booker?

  Dani typed in her answer.

  I don’t have much say in the plans here, but I’ll do my best.

  That should give her some room to breathe. It was ambiguous enough to keep the lines of communication open without committing herself to whatever madness Booker had planned. It was only after she had slipped the phone back into her pocket that she realized she had answered him in a complete, fully punctuated sentence.

  When she came back into the living room, Cara was listening to Olivia intently. From the little she heard, it sounded as if they were discussing growing quinoa in Ecuador.

  “That sounds amazing,” Cara said, clutching her tablet to her heart.

  “It really was,” Olivia said. “The pictures we got are just incredible. And the initiative has already increased sustainability for the village tenfold. I’m supposed to go back next year to review the progress, but I can’t see that being necessary. Besides, nobody wants the endower lurking around.”

  “I bet,” Cara laughed. “I would love to see those pictures.”

  Olivia looked optimistically cautious. “Are you sure? Because there are a lot of them. I mean like books of them. Once you get me started…”

  “Bring it! Especially the ones of the birds you were talking about.”

  “Oh my God,” Olivia leaned forward in her seat, “they were so incredible. These condors are so elusive, they haven’t been seen off the mountain in over fifty years and we were right in the middle of their hunting ground. They would circle us, and I swear, you could feel—”

  “Hold that thought.” Cara cut her off. “I need to talk to Dani. How are you feeling, Dani? Any better? I have some antacids in my purse if you need them.”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Dani felt that awful pressure of being the center of attention. The phone weighed a hundred pounds against her leg as she slipped back into her chair, tucking the contraband once more against the cushion.

  Cara smiled at her. “My stomach always gets wonky when I travel. I’ll keep this short. Maybe you should try eating something bland, like white rice or something.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “Okay good,” She swiped the tablet to life once more. “I need to get your statement. Nothing big. It’s paperwork that makes up ninety percent of my job. Maybe some pizza?”

  “What?”

  “Pizza.” Cara kept smiling. “Sometimes when my stomach is off, pizza hits the spot. It’s weird, right? All that grease and cheese but sometimes it’s just the thing. You might want to try it. Okay, what did you see?”

  The phone burning against her skin, Choo-Choo’s icy glare, Cara’s rapid topic change – to say nothing of the enormous secret she was keeping – conspired to give Dani an actual stomachache. “When?”

  Choo-Choo snorted softly.

  Dani rushed to get back to normal. “Oh, oh, at the church. I didn’t see anything.”

  Cara nodded, encouraging her. “Okay, you were outside. You were not within the security cordon, right?” Dani shook her head, not wanting to awaken that argument again. “So, you were in the crowd where? By the steps? Were you on the north or south side of the cathedral? How close were you to the cordon?”

  “I…I… I was moving. I don’t…”

  “Dani doesn’t like people,” Choo-Choo said.

  “I don’t like that many people,” she snapped back at him. “I don’t like crowds.”

  “Oh, tell me about it,” Cara said. “All those people. And there’s always someone who smells like chicken soup. It’s revolting. Where did you go? Did you go north or south? Did you go west?” She glanced at her tablet. “Oh, of course you went west. That’s where we found you.”

  Dani held up her hands, helpless. “I don’t know where I am. I’m not oriented here. I don’t know which way is north or south.”

  Cara nodded in support. “Sure, that makes sense. When you spend enough time in New York City, you just get a feel for which way is uptown. Once you know that, it’s easy. We picked you up on the corner of Broadway and 111th Street. That’s due west of the cathedral. If you’d kept going you would have hit Riverside Park. Did you get that far?”

  Dani nodded, not looking at Choo-Choo. It didn’t seem worth lying about it.

  “The crowd was too much, so I just headed down the street. I didn’t know where I was going.” Truth. “But I figured if I just stayed on that street, I couldn’t get lost.”

  Choo-Choo interrupted Cara. “What if we had finished up before you got back? You don’t have a phone. There’s no way to reach you. How were you going to get back to Connecticut? Were we all just supposed to wait for you?”

  Dani didn’t want to do this here. She didn’t want to do it anywhere but especially not in front of Cara and Olivia, but she knew it would have to be done eventually. She and Choo-Choo were going to have to rip into whatever was spoiling within their friendship.

  “I figured I had time to take a walk. It took your family an hour to load into the procession that brought us here. You all don’t exactly spring into action.”

  “And yet, we had to pick you up at Broadway.”

  Cara cut in to defuse the tension. “It’s really not a big deal. It’s not. We would have found you. We keep a few extra cars in reserve for stragglers. I know the city can be a lot if you’re not from here. You’re a long way from Flat Road, Oklahoma, aren’t you?”

  Dani started at that. “How did you know I’m from Oklahoma?”

  Cara’s smile changed in the tiniest way. Only someone paranoid would have noticed it. Dani noticed it. “We have a file on you. Basic security clearance. I remember thinking what an interesting name Flat Road, Oklahoma is.”

  “What else is in my file?” A million-dollar question.

  Cara shrugged. “I don’t really remember. Mr. Charbaneaux gave us your name. We ran it. Nothing pinged. Basically, we’re just making sure that everyone within the security circle of the senator is who they say they are.” She laughed. “And that who they are is not a national security threat, of course. You’re not on any terrorist watchlists, are you, Dani?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Oh, you are just precious, Cara thought watching Dani stone-face it through the revelation of the background check. And it looks like you’re not as far from Oklahoma as you thought you were, my dear. Cara knew all about Dani’s deep desire to distance herself from the parade of relatives who had shuttled her around, resentment thinly veiled. She’d been so proud of making it to Washington D.C. and having an apartment near the real National Geographic Center! Even under layers of sedation, Dani had spoken with the enthusiasm of a true hick.

  But I bet your relatives were terrified of getting on a government watchlist, weren’t they? Probably kept guns and food supplies and talked about ‘the grid’ and ‘the compound.’ A bunch of low rent Okies, worried to the
point of arousal about shadow governments coming for their ammo. Would they ever have imagined that the unremarkable mouse of a girl they so resented having to feed and water would one day be a person of interest to a shadowy government agency? That the details of her history would be redacted and restricted for anyone below a certain security level?

  How would that make you feel, Dani, being a hero to your tribe?

  The pleasure of wondering about that almost made up for having to pretend to be fascinated by Ecuadorian condors and whatever nonsense the Wren cousin wanted to discuss. The things Cara did for her employers.

  Dani had done an abysmal job denying the terrorist watchlist question. Lord, she would have made a terrible secret agent. Cara had waited to laugh the question off just long enough that it could seem as if she were saving Dani from her own awkwardness rather than exacerbating it. Then she made a big show of wrapping up the questioning and begging Olivia Wren to show her the photos from her family’s ecological endowment, the souvenirs of her noblesse oblige. So excited was she, that she happened to leave her purse gaping on the floor between the two friends. The work tablet balanced against the zipper, bold as brass.

  The thought would cross Dani’s mind that this was a trap, a mind-game. Given time, that spark could explode into a conflagration of doubt. Dani on a watchlist, Cara knowing everything, now fucking with her head to see if she would dare try to hack into her own file.

  That’s where Dani’s head would go.

  Sinclair Charbaneaux, on the other hand, would take a different route. Cara’s probing had discovered an opportunistic streak in the young man that didn’t exactly border but was within spitting distance of antisocial personality disorder. The kid could be a shit. Yeah, yeah, he had his baggage and his scars – some weird ones – and she didn’t doubt the adventures in D.C. had changed him in some way. Again, it wasn’t like she could call him in for a check-up. But unless he had had a massive personality reorientation, Cara knew he would not hesitate to pluck the secure tablet from her bag for no bigger reason than pure boredom.