Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  “And we’re in the women’s lives by invitation at this point. Imagine how swift that kick would come, giving us the boot out the door,” Thorn said.

  Brian was glad to sit back and have Thorn and Nutsbe poke holes in the plan. He was mindful that if he protested too vigorously, his loyalties might be called into question, especially since Lynx had picked up on the emotional complexity of his situation. Of course, he knew his loyalties weren’t in question. Duty first. Period. “On Sophia’s end, I have external cameras set up. She has four monitors up. Three making a U-shape, one set apart that looks like the place Nadia typically works. The lighting and angles make capturing a clear picture of any of the screens difficult.

  “On Nadia’s end, I have spyware on the laptop she used at their presentation. It looks like a bunch of PowerPoint presentations and nothing more. There’s a complete search history in place. It’s mostly Google searches that pertain to people in their field, hotels, conferences, airlines. She uses her phone for her day-to-day stuff—email, social media, web searches.”

  Finley looked like he’d licked a lemon. “I highly suggest you find a way to get that software loaded onto the AACP computers then.” He pointed from Brian to Thorn. “And remember, this sting is already in play.”

  15

  Brian

  Thursday p.m.

  The four of them sat in front of the computers as Sophia manipulated the images, changing the coloration and the depth of saturation until she was satisfied.

  Brian and Thorn each had a thumb drive ready, all they needed was two minutes alone with a computer window open, and they’d get the spyware in place. So far, they’d been unsuccessful at clearing the room.

  The women were sharply focused. Anxious. The atmosphere in the office felt like the war room when a case was at a tipping point. Something made this feel like a mission. A low-level hum of danger vibrated the air. They weren’t talking. They pointed things out to each other and nodded. Their fingers flew, and they typed in Arabic. Brian was sure that both women wished their security would clear out. He wished he knew what was happening.

  Brian had been in the room when Sophia had booted up the computer. He’d hoped to see where she hid the PIN generator. Then he’d simply come in when she was asleep that night and do what needed to be done. She had faced the left-hand screen, mumbled under her breath, and typed rapidly. Brian had given Nutsbe a heads up, and he in turn had gone over that video again and again trying to figure out how she was getting the number—they had been in the room well beyond the forty-five seconds that a number was active—but he saw nothing that even remotely resembled the PIN generator. If Brian didn’t get the flash drive in at some point today, he’d come back and give the room a hard shake. She had to have it somewhere on her desk. Maybe there was something under the lip of the desk, and she dropped the device into her lap.

  The Florida room door rattled, and a man’s voice called out, “Joe, come let me in.”

  “Sounds like Mr. Rochester,” Brian said, tipping his head to ask if he should open the door.

  Sophia pushed her chair back, her gaze lingering on the screen, obviously frustrated to be pulled away from her task. “I’ve got it.” She pushed through the door and pulled it solidly closed behind her. “Mr. Rochester, you’re looking for Joe? I saw him earlier, playing next door. Let’s go get him home. It’s almost time for dinner.”

  “That boy’s supposed to be grounded. Why the heck isn’t he in his room? Who are you? Why are you in my house?”

  “I’m the babysitter. Let’s go find out why Joe’s being naughty and bring him home.” Her voice faded as they left the house. Brian slid the curtain back and watched as Sophia guided the elderly gentleman back across the yard.

  Thorn got up and moved toward the arch that separated the kitchen from the office. “Nadia, do you think Sophia would mind if I made some coffee? I’m headed for an afternoon slump.”

  Nadia glanced away from her screen. “She doesn’t drink coffee, no stimulants to up her anxiety levels.”

  “Tea? Does she drink tea?”

  Nadia quickly typed something, then, with poorly veiled exasperation, moved to the kitchen to help Thorn. Brian slid his thumb drive into Sophia’s computer and watched the light blaze red; this thing was about as subtle as Rudolph’s nose. Nadia moved back into the office almost as soon as he pulled his hand away.

  Brian swung around and planted his hips on the desktop, blocking its view. “Nadia, Sophia had a good night last night. The house was quiet. She said she was groggy this morning from the meds, but otherwise felt all right. You know her as well as anyone, what do you think we should do to continue this progress?”

  “Honestly? I think she needs to get the hell out of dodge. This neighborhood is full of freaks. Old men rattling her door at all hours of the day and night. Bikini-clad nut jobs following her through the grocery store, hissing at her.”

  Brian blinked. What? “Hissing?”

  “Hissing. It got to the point where Sophia eats only freeze-dried foods and foods she can have mailed or carried out to her car with curbside delivery.”

  “You’re talking about Marla?” he asked, hoping to god he’d get a chance to pull out the thumb drive before Sophia got back. “Why do you think she’s stalking Sophia?”

  “Marla? Of course, Marla. And why? I’d just be guessing, but I read a book called The Sociopath Who Lived Next Door, and the conclusion I came to is that a sociopath has to have a target. Others see how that target is treated and will do anything not to have that level of crazy pointed toward them. Having a victim allows a sociopath to exercise control over a whole group.

  “When Marla moved in, Sophia had just been in the car crash that injured her mother-in-law. Sophia moved here to take care of her. Jane Campbell was in terrible shape and was completely dependent on Sophia. The accident was just another horrible event in a long list of horrible events that Sophia’s gone through. She reeks of vulnerability. I think Marla picked Sophia because she’s an easy mark.” Nadia paused and considered him. “I have to thank you for telling Sophia that she’s being stalked by that mad cow. Sophia turns a deaf ear to anything I say to her on the subject. As a matter of fact—”

  Sophia opened the door to the Florida room. Her face was white and her eyes were wide. “I don’t know what to do,” she gasped out. “Mr. Rochester got violent. I asked if I should call the police, and Joe yelled for me to just get out and go home.” She looked at Brian. “Do you think I should call the police? When Hunter got like that…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do,” she told the floorboards.

  Thorn had been listening from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter. He righted himself. “I’ll go see if he needs help. Is one of the doors open?”

  “Yes, I left the front door unlocked so the police could get in. But Joe said not to call. The expense can be enormous if he’s taken to the hospital. It’s a lot to weigh. But Mr. Rochester was punching Joe.” She watched Thorn jog out her front door. “This is terrible,” she gasped. She exhaled forcibly. A shallow breath in, a deeper breath out. One hand held to her forehead, the other clenched to her stomach. Her eyes were wild with anxiety.

  “Sophia, sit down,” Nadia said, pulling a chair around. “Thorn’s got this. Mr. Rochester is an old man—he’s weak. Joe can protect himself. Mr. Rochester’s not an athlete like Hunter was. He’s not strong like Hunter was. This isn’t you and Hunter, Sophia,” Nadia said raising her voice, becoming stern. “This is not Hunter. You and the kids are safe.”

  Sophia collapsed into the chair with her head in her hands. Her glistening black waves formed a barrier to their scrutiny.

  Brian wanted to crouch by her side, to get her a drink of water, to find something warm to wrap around her shivering frame, but his body was hiding the damned thumb drive.

  Sophia looked up. “Brian, can you go see if Thorn needs help? Please? Adrenaline and anger can make people incredibly strong.”

  Before Bri
an could answer, Lana opened the front door, holding the hands of two young boys. “Hey ho!”

  Sophia immediately pulled herself together and scurried over. “Is everything okay?” She picked up the younger of the two. The boy was like a doll, with his mother’s huge ebony eyes and pink cheeks; his black hair a mop of curls. He tucked his head under Sophia’s chin.

  “My kids are in the car.” Lana glanced over her shoulder out the door to where her minivan was parked in front of the mailbox. “The boys wanted mama, so I thought I’d bring them by for a quick hug. We’re heading out for an ice cream.”

  “With sprinkles,” Turner stipulated. Two dimpled cheeks showcased a happy grin. He held out a piece of orange construction paper to his mom.

  Sophia squatted, balancing Chance on her hip. Opening the three-year-old’s masterpiece with one hand, she took a moment to appreciate Turner’s picture. “Oh, sweetie, look how beautiful. I love all the colors. Can you tell me about this?”

  Focusing over her shoulder, Brian could see random lines and scribbles decorating the page.

  Turner pointed earnestly at his work. “We’re reading a book.”

  “I love when we read books together.” She kissed his hair. “And I love having this picture to remind me of snuggling up with you and Chance.” Sophia pushed to standing, obviously practiced at juggling the children. “This goes on the fridge so we can all enjoy it.”

  Lana turned to her sister. “I thought you were working from home today. I didn’t expect to find you here.” She peered into the office. “And Brian.” She gave him a finger wave.

  Thorn came in the back door. “Rochester’s good. They’re watching football.”

  “And Thorn too? There’s a whole crowd holding down the fort today.”

  Brian detected something nervous about Lana. She seemed overly bright. Maybe she, like Nadia and Sophia, didn’t like to be around big groups, but honestly, with only four of them there, that didn’t make much sense.

  “Are you sleepy, baby?” Sophia asked her youngest son, tipping his head back so she could peer at him, then plant a kiss on his cheek. “He’s looking better. He smells like garlic and olive oil. I could eat him up.” She nuzzled at his neck until he chuckled and squirmed.

  “Yeah, he was pulling at that ear, so I tried a home remedy. Seems to be working.” Lana moved forward to reach for Chance. Lana and Nadia were obviously sisters, but where Nadia was tall and athletic, her sister was a shorter, rounder, softer version. Their personalities differed along the same lines. Nadia was cosmopolitan and wore the polish of someone who sipped cocktails in sophisticated circles. Lana seemed like someone who preferred the comfort and intimacy of her home.

  “Let me hold him while Turner and I go hang his picture.” Sophia took Turner’s hand and moved toward the kitchen.

  “The boys missed you last night,” Lana called after her. “They need some mama time. I told them that you’d read two books and sing one song over the Internet before they go to sleep.”

  Brian took advantage of the shift in attention to pull out the flash drive that had thankfully turned green. Mission accomplished.

  Thorn had gone back to the Iniquus compound to have the Arabic notes that Sophia and Nadia had been sending all day translated, and to see if anything tied to the FBI sting came up in their work. Right now, the computer was off. The electricity had been flickering. Brian had his phone out and was watching an enormous storm inching toward them on the radar. High winds were causing power outages to the west.

  He, Nadia, and Sophia had originally planned to go out to grab a bite to eat, but had decided to order a pizza. Sophia didn’t want to miss FaceTime with her children. She’d headed up the stairs to read them their books when Brian heard a car in the drive. He fished out his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills, moving toward the door. It burst open, and Lana stumbled into the room. Her eye caught on Brian, and she froze. “Hey there,” she finally said, turning and leaning her body into the door to get it to shut. “Can you believe this weather? Whew!” She pushed the hair out of her face and sent Brian a smile. “I thought you all went out to eat.”

  The doorbell rang. “Too lazy. We ordered a pizza instead.” Brian shifted around Lana to take the pizzas and pay the guy.

  Lana moved over to the corner of the room. “I’m just going to send a quick text to the hubs and let him know how bad things are getting.” She raised her voice. “Hey, Nadia,” she said without looking up from her task.

  “Tell him it looks like you might be sheltering in place.” Nadia took the pizzas from Brian and set them on the kitchen counter, pulled out some plates, and they dug in after Nadia said Sophia had told them to go ahead without her.

  The wind shook the house and bent the trees. Sophia made a short appearance, her eyes rimmed in red. Mascara streaks painted her cheeks where she’d wiped away tears. “Hey, Lana. Did you need something?”

  “The boys wanted to play with their puppy pals, so I thought I’d stop by while I ran to the store for more bananas, it’s hard to keep them in stock when there’s a troop of monkeys swinging through my house. Are you all done talking to the kids?”

  “The cable went down. I had to call the boys on the phone to finish the book and tell them good night.” She tried to force her frown into a smile.

  “Are you okay? Come and eat something.” Brian lifted the box, but forced himself to stay put and ignore how badly he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her.

  She shook her head as she reached into the cupboard for a mug. “What I want is to take a long hot bath, but looks like the lightning is here.” She pulled a jug of milk from the fridge. “I’m going to make some hot milk while we still have electricity.” She tapped the button and her microwave whirred. When it beeped completion, she opened the door. “I’m going to take my sleeping pills and go to bed. Today seemed to wring it out of me.”

  Lana smiled encouragement her way. “Saturday we’ll spend all day at the pool. We’ll relax. It’ll be good.”

  Sophia’s attempted smile fooled no one.

  Rain continued to hammer down. The trees scraped their branches back and forth over the windowpanes, making high-pitched otherworldly shrieks that unnerved the women. The lights wavered and dimmed. The storm sat right on top of them. The women certainly couldn’t go home in this deluge, with no visibility and no street lights or signals. Nadia had gone up to change the sheets on the guestroom bed where Lana and Nadia would both sleep. Brian planned to sleep on the couch in the den.

  Brian went to check the doors. The security lights and cameras didn’t have a backup battery. He’d have to work on that.

  With the flashlight on his phone, Brian slipped up the stairs and into Sophia’s room. He checked her breathing and pulse. She didn’t move. He picked up the bottle of sleeping pills sitting on her bedside table and counted them into his hand. Something about her mood earlier had been flat. Despondent. The vitality that he normally saw in her eyes when she spoke about her work had faded. And it worried him. Lynx’s warning that Sophia was at risk of suicide was in the forefront of his mind.

  He thought back to the hugs she gave to her kids. She was obviously a gentle and loving mother, but she’d had the same energy and look as women he’d seen in war zones. He vividly remembered talking with his translator one day, the female officer was assigned to his FAST unit to talk with women and do the female pat downs. He had wanted to understand the melancholy look in the mothers’ eyes as they sent their children off to get water at the well or to sell the bread the women had made that morning. They’d put their hands on their children’s heads and held their gaze for a long moment before shooing them off.

  “These mothers see no tomorrow, no future for their children. They’re waiting for the next bomb to drop. The next strafe of gunfire. One way or another, this is a land of bad outcomes. There’s no expectation for a better tomorrow. How else should these women behave? What else could they feel but despair?”

  Brian had n
o idea. He was from America, where tomorrow held promise, options and opportunities. But the look in Sophia’s eyes told him that she was just like those women in the war zone. He examined Sophia, curled into a ball, her brow furrowed, the blanket held in a fist beneath her chin, as though the act of sleeping took immense physical concentration and effort. He wanted to reach out and stroke his hand over her hair. To comfort her. To tell her he was going to protect her. But that was a lie. He was the one tasked with taking her down. Brian replaced the pills, tightened the child-proof cap and moved the vial away from her reach, hiding it from sight behind her lamp.

  He jogged down the stairs to find Lana texting in her usual spot. She glanced up when he held the flashlight on her. “The children are sleeping right through this, hubby says. How? I have no idea. It’s probably because he’s piled them all in bed with him and the dogs.” Her voice was tight.

  “This is eerie,” Nadia said, carrying a candle into the room and moving over to stand near Lana. “I can’t remember ever being so unnerved by a storm.”

  Lightning reached out and touched the top of a nearby pine, exploding it in a fireworks display of golden sparks in the neighbor’s yard. Lana slapped a hand over her mouth to buffer her shriek. Thunder clapped immediately—long and low, rumbling across the sky and shaking the house on its foundation. The crystal on the curio shelf clattered. Spinning, Lana reached out reflexively as a goblet slipped from the shelf. It slid through her fingers, and hit the floor hard, shattering.

  Nadia, the candle still in her hand, moaned as she crouched. “No!” She exhaled. “No. No. No.” She lifted the stem. It was the largest piece still intact. Lana hovered over the shards, her hands on her head, her eyes wide. Brian waited for some explanation about what upset them so much.