by A. G. Henley
After my routine check of the bathroom, balcony, and closets, I perched on my bed, wondering what to say. What were we dealing with here? Were the threats coming from a student, like Darya? Or from someone a lot more sinister? By being in the bar with Veena, the extortionists had dangerously upped the ante.
Darya hadn’t been at the bar. I scanned my memory for every VMA kid who was there, but no one stood out from my watch list. A lot of non VMA kids were there, too, and a few adults like Connor and the other ski patrollers.
I studied the video, the angle from which it was taken, willing it to give me more information. We had the phone number it was sent from, but Bart had explained before that the numbers they previously extracted from Veena’s phone had come from burner phones—cheap, disposable devices used once and thrown away. There were even apps that created temporary burner numbers.
Veena spoke, her voice soft and watery. “I want to go to the hill.”
I texted Kovitch and Brown and followed her in pulling ski pants and boots over my clothes. The night air hovered right below freezing, and staying in her room was safest, but I didn’t try to talk her out of going. She was sniffing back tears, and it took her two tries to zip up her jacket. She would say she needed her happy place.
I kept my hands free and eyes open, my stick still snug against my back, as we trudged up the hushed hill to the pipe and settled on the deck where I’d found her before. At least I could see a threat coming from a long way. Kovitch and his team were nearby, too, unseen but vigilant.
“I’m sorry, Veena. I know that was scary.” An understatement.
She nodded, staring at the opposite wall of the pipe. “I was having such a good time dancing. I almost forgot all this was happening. How did they know what I was doing?” She glanced around, her eyes wild. “Are they watching me now?”
I didn’t have an answer.
“Nic, my parents will freak. They’ll want me to come home. They’ve been incredibly cool letting me stay here and train, but this might be it. They’ll say it’s too dangerous, that they have their own security team at home. I’d be safer for sure.”
I knew she didn’t mean that as a judgment on me—she had every right to be frightened—but it stung anyway.
“I don’t want to go.” Tears dripped like melting icicles onto her waterproof pants.
Those tears were too much. I knew I shouldn’t, but I scooted closer and put an arm around her.
She went on. “I know this will sound dramatic, but I don’t want to live without being able to ride. I’ve snowboarded more than half my life. It’s not what I do; it’s who I am. Since I won my first competition, I’ve worked every day toward my dream of being the first Desi to medal in the winter Olympics. I can’t stop now.”
I’d seen the word Desi in her social media profile. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I didn’t want to interrupt to ask. Her shoulders shook as she cried, fear and determination battling in those tears. I was pissed at these people, whoever they were, for doing this to Veena, and for making me feel so helpless.
After a few minutes, her sobs slowed. She didn’t speak again for a while. I watched car headlights crawl along the interstate while keeping a close eye on the quiet hill.
“Nic, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you decide to become a bodyguard? What, like, pushed you to go for it, do all that training? I know people wonder why I spend so much time riding, but what you decided to do . . . it’s probably even stranger.”
I thought about making something up. I didn’t want to talk about the real reason, especially after what happened at the bar. Reliving it was damned hard, even now. But Veena and I had come a long way since that first day I met her.
I licked my lips, willing the right words to come without opening that box inside all the way. “Back in high school, my friend Jamie and I were at a party. Some guys put something in our drinks.”
I breathed deeply, tensing as the memories stabbed me. My heart rate sped up, and my hands curled into fists. I clenched my teeth and blinked hard to pull the shade down on the phantom pain that shot through my body. For a second I was there again, in that shadowy back bedroom, listening to Jamie’s hysterical sobs, my own pleas, the drunken laughter of the boys. The fear and pain that wouldn’t stop.
The next day was like waking up after a nightmare, only to find it really happened. In the days, weeks, and months that followed, the world went weirdly gray and nothing quite made sense. I couldn’t tell Mom what happened; she was so fragile already. I thought about talking to Gram, but she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer by then. I didn’t want to burden her. And Jamie begged me not to tell anyone. So, I crafted the iron box of memories and worked freaking hard to keep that lid closed.
For the next few years, I went through the motions, grateful that the boys were from a different high school so that I didn’t have to see them every day in class. Spending time with Jamie was hard enough. But the rage at what had happened to us, and the desire to learn to protect myself and other vulnerable people, grew. Gram’s death only fueled the fire. Cancer was another thing I couldn’t do anything about. I was done with being helpless.
As graduation loomed, I knew I couldn’t follow my classmates to college. I wanted to do something that mattered. I thought about being a cop. While researching law enforcement careers, I stumbled onto Juno Academy’s website. As a CPO, I’d get the knowledge and skills I so desperately wanted. No one would be able to hurt me like that again, and I’d make damn sure they wouldn’t hurt my friends, family, or clients either, if I could help it.
I rolled my head to release my tight neck muscles and exhaled. “Anyway, I never wanted to be in that position again.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Veena’s voice cracked, and she had an arm around me now. “How’s . . . how’s your friend?”
I shrugged. “She’s in college. We were tight before it happened, like you and Ali and Gage, but after that, we drifted apart.”
She pulled her arm back in her lap and slumped. “Tight. Yeah.”
I nudged her. “What? You are, right?”
“I guess so. I don’t feel like I know them that well.”
I lifted a gloved hand, confused. “But you hang out with them all the time.”
“Only really since last year. And with all of us traveling to different competitions and spending summers at home, we don’t see each other as much as you’d think. Plus—” She looked out over the halfpipe; its icy surface glittered in the artificial lights. “Everyone’s so competitive here. Jockeying for first place, wanting to be the best. It’s hard to trust each other. I don’t think we let each other in that much. Everything we talk about is surface stuff. I miss my mom. I can talk to her like I can talk to you. I know this probably sounds stupid but . . . I feel like you’re sort of a sister.”
My voice was quiet. “That’s not stupid.”
Even if it made me a shitty CPO, the idea made me happy. I didn’t have any siblings, or many friends. Jamie had been the exception in my life, not the rule. I’d always thought I was just bad at the relationship thing. Then again, while everyone else was going to parties and dating the last few years, I was trying to prod Mom to go to the grocery store or coaxing Gram to eat a few bites of dinner.
Veena had been hunched over, her body caving in on itself. Now, she sat up straight and ran a gloved hand across her damp cheeks, wiping the tears away. Her voice hardened.
“I can’t give up. I won’t give up. If I don’t compete in the Olympics this year, if I let them win, it’ll be four more years before I get another shot. That’s like an eternity! I’m not letting these artichokes control my life. If they want me so bad, they can find me right here in the pipe. I don’t care what my parents say. I’m not leaving.”
Hope replaced the lingering, familiar rage, followed by a touch of shame. When Brown offered me this job, Veena was a cardboard cutout—a stinking rich, probably spoiled, teen
athlete on the cover of People. I wasn’t really thinking about her life; I was thinking about my own.
Now that I had spent time with her and knew her better, she was much more than that. She was a girl with parents who loved her, fans who admired her, coaches who supported her. She laughed, studied, and trained hard, and worshipped a little painted goddess. She spoke another language and wanted to do good in the world.
In training, our prospective clients were nameless, faceless people. Veena had a name, a face, and a big heart. The words I was about to say felt heavy on my tongue.
“Veena—if you want to stay, if you want to keep taking this risk, maybe we should ask Brown to find someone else to protect you. Someone with experience who really knows what they’re doing.”
She scoffed. “No way. I don’t want anyone else. You’re doing a great job, Nic.”
“If you mean because you’re still breathing, then yeah, I’ve been stellar. But this new threat is more serious. Somehow these people have eyes on you. Which means they probably know who I am, what I’m doing here, and exactly how much I’ve screwed this up already. Connor knows I’m your CPO.” And so did Gage, Ali, and who knew how many other students at VMA.
“How did he find out?”
“He heard a rumor. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Maybe I don’t belong here.”
“Don’t belong here?” Veena gripped my arm harder than I think she meant to. “Have you looked around my school, this resort, this town? Other than Gage, have you seen a single other person of color here?”
I hadn’t thought about it, but except for Gage and Brown, I’d seen very few.
“Snowboarding is like the whitest, white-on-white sport I could have picked. Don’t you think I’ve wondered if I belong? But that only made me work harder, work smarter, and want it more. I don’t only want to be the first Indian-American to medal in the Games, I want to be the best that ever rode.” She pointed at my chest, a coal fire burning in her eyes. “Don’t say you don’t belong here, Nic. Because if you don’t, then I don’t, and I won’t accept that. Got it? Don’t you give up on me, Nic. Not now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Her expression kind of scared me.
She held up a glove for a high-five, and I whacked it with my own.
She nodded. “All right, then. I’ll train my butt off this week, and you’ll figure out how to protect me. Forget parents and bosses and threats. We’re doing this. Now let’s go back before we freeze our eggplants off.”
“Damn, Veena. You should be a motivational speaker or something.”
“All in the plan. First, stay alive long enough for the Olympics. Second, win a gold medal. Third, show Anders what he’s missing. And last but not least, change the minds of all the brown girls in the world who think they can’t ride because they’ve never seen someone who looks like them do it.”
At that, she sat again and slid down the wall of the halfpipe with a shriek of laughter. When she reached the bottom, she jumped up, ran up the other wall, and performed some kind of twisting, turning trick in the air before landing on her feet. I watched, open-mouthed, before sliding down, too.
She helped me up. “But let’s start with step one. Keep me alive, Nic. Keep me alive.” She paused a second, thinking. “And I’ll step up my puja, just in case.”
Back in her room, Veena lit some incense and turned on some music. I called Xene from my office. My voice echoed around the ceramic bathroom tiles as I played with a dry bar of soap.
“The threats are growing more serious, and I don’t know what to do.” I told her about the video.
“Escalation is expected. They are trying to scare the Venkatesans into complying. This is your first job, Nicole. Of course, you are unsure. What has your team said?”
“That I’m a disaster. Brown’s almost fired me twice, and I’m sure the rest of them laugh at me behind my back on the daily.”
“Have you asked for their help, like I suggested?”
Umm, no. “They already think I’m an idiot.”
“Then you have nothing to lose. Start there. You need their experience. You need them on your side.”
Why did I ignore her advice before? Because pride, that’s why. I was too proud. Now, I didn’t care. I’d gotten everything wrong doing it my way.
I asked Kovitch to take point with Veena so I could talk to Brown in person, which I’d only done once since the day I arrived. I could have met with him every day on my hours off, learning what I could do to improve. What the hell had I been waiting for?
I took the stairs to his room at the Eagle’s Nest Inn. I hadn’t texted to let him know I was coming. As I knocked, I realized he probably already knew from tracking me. When he answered, his coat and shoes were off.
“Sorry it’s so late, but I need to talk to you, Chief.”
“Yes, you do. Come in.” He gestured to the kitchenette. “Would you like a water? Plenty in the fridge.”
“No, thanks.” I was still full from our pizza dinner, and I always stayed extra hydrated now.
He waved to a chair at the table by the window. “Have a seat.”
He poured himself a glass of sparkling water from a can on the bar that separated the kitchen area from the living room. His suite was messier than before, with takeout containers on the coffee table, dirty dishes in the sink, and a recycle bin overflowing with paper. The clutter made him more human somehow.
I settled in, and he sat across from me. On a desk in the corner, his computer screen showed a map with two groupings of small, different colored dots. A brown and green dot hung close together, while others were some distance away and spread out from each other. Brown caught me looking.
He leaned back in his chair and circled the building with the brown and green dots with his finger. “That’s the Inn. Ice and his team are here, too, somewhere, but I don’t track them when they’re off duty.”
Which meant the others were Kovitch’s team over at VMA. One marking was larger than the rest, and not a circle—a black diamond. It stayed in one place. Hopefully Veena would get some sleep.
“That’s rad,” I said.
His eyebrow lifted. “Rad?”
“Um, impressive.” I took a deep breath and dove in. “Owl told you about the new texted threat?”
“He did. Not much we can do about it tonight. I’ll call the sheriff’s office in the morning. See if they’ll get another subpoena. I’m not holding out much hope, though. These people know how to manipulate the system. They use the number once, ditch it, get a new one. Veena will probably get more texts.”
I grit my teeth. So much time wasted. But we had no power beyond any other citizen. We had to be smarter than the extortionists.
“What have you found out about Darya?” I asked.
“Not a whole helluva lot. Local police refused to confiscate her computer or cell phone without proof she cut that tramp. The instructor still says it was an equipment failure. And we have zero proof she was involved with this, either.”
I slammed my hand down on the chair arm. “The tramp didn’t fail; it was cut. And I think Darya knifed it.”
“I agree with you.”
I blinked. “You do?”
“Not necessarily about Darya, but I think someone cut the tramp deliberately. From the pictures, it didn’t look like a tear to me, either. Too neat of a line.”
“Have you learned anything about her?”
“We got some information, but nothing stood out. Black Diamond’s a rich kid from California who likes to snowboard. Darya’s a rich kid from Eastern Europe who likes to snowboard.”
“That’s it?”
“You know how hard it is to dig up information about a private citizen in Minsk, Belarus, Green? We aren’t the CIA. SSA’s connections only go so far.”
I grit my teeth. “We have jack to go on.”
He stared me down. “I know you aren’t criticizing the way I’m running this operation . . . not after all the chances you’ve had.”
&n
bsp; “No, sir. I’m sorry.” My eyes closed as I calmed myself down. “I didn’t come out here to argue with you, Chief.”
“That’s what you call arguing?” His lip turned up into a small smile. “So, why are you here?”
“I need your help.”
“Truer words were never spoken.”
My words poured out a little too fast, like salt from a box. “Look, I know I’ve done everything wrong since I started. At the beginning, I was only worried about my job, getting it right to jumpstart my career. But now, I don’t want to see Veena get hurt again.” I rubbed at a spot on the table; I couldn’t look him in the eye. “I want to do better. I want to get this right for me . . . but more importantly for her.”
He studied me for a minute. “What is it you’re asking for?”
I pulled my seat a little closer to him. “I want to do better. I don’t want to lose Veena. Please, help me learn to do my job the right way.”
He took a drink. “You know how long I’ve been doing this job, Green?”
I shook my head.
“Twelve years. Twelve long years. I’ve done a lot of things in that time, and most of them weren’t glamorous.” He jerked a thumb back at the computer screen. “I was out there in the cold for ten hour shifts night after night, like Owl. I drove the car and spent nights putting together security plans for spoiled kids and pampered adults, like Bart does now.” He nodded to himself. “I gotta admit, it chaps my ass that you rolled into this plum position green as a Granny Smith. Chaps a lot of our asses.”
I nodded, eyes down. Whatever he needed to say, now was the time for me to listen.
“I could’ve—maybe should’ve—fired you at least three times already.”
“I know.” And he probably should have. Only I heard a but coming.
“But I think your heart’s in the right place, Green. You care about your job and your principal.” He shifted the soda water around in his glass. The bubbles were almost gone. “Not everyone on the circuit is like that. Lots of big egos running around, only care about themselves and their bank account.”
