Kit

by S. M. West

  “Do you still see Elliot?” He switches gears, picking up on her sudden caginess. “Would you say you’re friends?”

  “More than friends. I mean…” Now she bites her lip.

  “You’re dating?” He cuts to the chase.

  “Yes. We’ve been together since the Jane Clinic.” Her shoulders tense as she gives me a sideways glance. “Caro, sorry to have to tell you this way, but he wasn’t faithful to you. In fact, he didn’t even like you. He wanted to be with me.”

  Even as she grows uncomfortable, she’s enjoying this, unloading the truth about Elliot, but I don’t care. Maybe I should act like I do if it would make her talk some more.

  “Okay. Did Elliot ask you to do other things?” Kit’s trying to get her to focus.

  “I think you should go now.” She shoves her lunch back into the fridge.

  He pulls out his phone, tapping on the screen a few times before turning the screen toward her. “Have you ever seen this before?”

  “No.” She snorts, refusing to look any longer at the phone. “No, I’ve never seen the beetle.”

  He must have shown her the picture of the blue pill with the insect logo.

  Her choice of words is both strange and interesting.

  The beetle.

  She’s certain, knowing the kind of insect it is, no guessing. Meanwhile neither of us, nor Nick and Logan, could say for sure what insect it is because the symbol is too small for any kind of detail.

  I’m now more suspicious of Flora than ever, and Kit and I share a look. His intense gaze says we’re not leaving until she talks.

  “You have to go now.” She opens the door to the hallway and again, I hold back a laugh, more because I’d like to see her try to get Kit to leave.

  “Caro, do all clinics like this have storage rooms?” He doesn’t move.

  At first, I’m puzzled by his sudden question. Flora is also thrown, forgetting her immediate desire to get rid of us as she quietly looks on.

  “Yes, most of them would have a room to store supplies, equipment, drug samples, and stuff like that.”

  “Great.” He brushes past Flora and instead of going left, the way we entered, he turns right. “Now where would it be?”

  “Hey, where are you going?” Flora scurries after him.

  He opens a door, then just as quickly closes it. The bathroom. The next door he tries is the supply closet and he barges in. Flora and I step into the room and she’s making all kinds of demands, telling us to leave, but neither of us move or say a thing.

  My legs shake and my mind blanks. I can hardly believe it. The room is near identical to the Jane Clinic but bigger.

  Oh my God. There’s an island in the middle of the room. Kit squats in front of a large floor mat directly in front of the cupboards.

  Before he pulls back the mat, my breath stops, already knowing what he’ll uncover. And sure enough, in the floor, hidden under the rubber mat, is a similar door to the one at the Jane Clinic. Elliot renovated this room too.

  “You need to go before I call the cops.” Flora tugs at his shoulder, but he’s a big guy and her efforts are futile.

  “Go ahead, call the cops.”

  Her head snaps to me at my challenging tone.

  Kit slides his finger into the metal ring and pulls. It’s locked. “Open it.” He motions to Flora.

  “What?” She backs away from him, eyes as round as saucers. She’s panicked and ready to escape. “I’ve never seen that before in my life. I don’t know how to open it.”

  I’m quick to close the door and press my back against it, blocking exit from the room.

  Kit’s hands are planted on the countertop, jaw set and an unwavering determination in his eyes. “Start talking or we will call the cops.”

  Her top teeth sink into her bottom lip, and there’s a flash of something wild, almost fearful, in her gaze.

  “Don’t call the cops. I’ll tell you what I know but none of this can come back on me.” Her hands rake back and forth through her hair, blonde wisps sticking up in every direction.

  “Talk.” He folds his arms over his chest.

  “Did Elliot have this renovated too?” My question’s rhetorical, but I want her to say it, confirming what we all know.

  She nods, worrying her hands. “He arranged for my brothers to do the job, but I was the one to suggest it to the higher-ups. Elliot’s never set foot in here.”

  My gaze collides with Kit’s. Flora is more involved than I thought, and I feel like an idiot. How did I miss all this going on in front of me at the clinic?

  “So you run the operation?” I don’t fully understand what the operation is but I’m hoping she’ll fill in the gaps.

  “No, no, this is Elliot’s. I just…” She spins around and around like a hula hoop, finally leaning into a wall. “After you asked him to leave the Jane Clinic, he needed a new set-up and I wanted to help. He was in a jam. I got this job, we built the compartment under the floor, and we started all over again.”

  “The oxy was shipped here and then what?” Kit’s growing impatient, shifting from one foot to the other, and I can’t help but feel the urgency. We are out of time, and we need more. We need to find Elliot.

  “I would take the shipments to my place and Elliot would get them there.”

  For all of Flora’s shortcomings, I feel sorry for her. I doubt she sees just how Elliot is using her. There’s no way he would have gotten me to do any of this, but he likely knew that.

  “So you’re taking all the risks?” He cocks his head to one side, really looking at Flora.

  Why put herself in such jeopardy for a man? A selfish, egotistical man at that. But in some ways, I was also a means to an end.

  While Elliot served a purpose for me, I did for him. Dating me enabled him to keep an eye on me, make sure my attention was elsewhere. And he succeeded; I never suspected him.

  “No. Elliot’s in danger. He’s being followed, and that’s why he slips in and out of my building unseen, and why I bring the shipments to my place. The more they know about him, the less bargaining power he has.”

  A strange buzz of hope courses through me. Elliot is in hiding, as Kit figured.

  “Who are they?” Kit pushes.

  “I don’t know.” Her eyes drop to the floor like a stone sinking to the bottom of a river. She’s lying and I clench my fists, forcing myself not to shake her until she talks.

  “When was the last time you spoke to Elliot or saw him?” Kit either doesn’t pick up on her lie, which I doubt, or he’ll come back to it.

  “Two days ago. He slept over.”

  “So what you’re saying is, it’s possible that no one knows about you or this clinic?”

  “What do you mean, knows about me? Elliot isn’t keeping me a secret.” She’s too quick and too heated not to reveal it’s a sore spot for her. She’s definitely a secret.

  “Who are they? And don’t lie.” His voice is as sharp as a knife’s blade.

  “I swear, I don’t know.” She’s shaking her head. “But whoever they are, they’re scary, dangerous people. They don’t mess around.”

  “Why’d you say that?”

  “After leaving the Jane Clinic, Elliot tried to get out. He’d had enough but they wouldn’t let him go. He was beaten to within an inch of his life.” She slides her back down the wall until her butt hits the floor. Her worn sneakers squeeze against the tile as she comes to a stop.

  Because the jerk is in hiding, they are after me. And what Kit’s said all along rings in my ears. Elliot had to have implicated me in some way. Flora is involved in this and they don’t know about her, but they know about me.

  Fucking Elliot.

  “He really wants out. That’s why…” Flora stares up at us, tears pooling in her eyes. “He’s done something. I don’t know what but it isn’t good.”

  “What do you think he did?” My question is a near whisper, unsure if I should even be talking since she doesn’t like me.

  A remind
er of my presence might cause her to clam up. But staying silent is torture. I need to know what those people think I have or know where it’s hidden.

  “He’s in hiding and I can’t reach him. The last shipment he picked up… I’ve heard things… I mean, I don’t do drugs but I’ve made it a point to keep my ear to the ground. There’s a shortage of beetle juice on the street.”

  “Beetle juice?” Kit and I ask at the same time.

  “Fuck.” She looks like she wants to shove the word back in her mouth and starts pounding her fist into her thigh.

  Diving to her level, I grab her arm, stopping her punches before she does any real damage to herself. “It’s okay. Stop. What’s beetle juice?”

  “It’s the pill Kit has on his phone. That’s what it’s called on the street. It’s oxy and it’s in high demand on the streets. Would you believe it’s trending, the ‘in’ drug? Big at snotty rich kid parties and on university campuses. A shortage would hurt distribution and the dealer.”

  “Do you know how to get ahold of Elliot?” Kit stands on the other side of Flora now.

  “I thought so. I have his number but he isn’t answering.” She pulls out the phone, showing us his contact information. It’s the same number I have. “That isn’t like him. I’m afraid he’s dead.”

  Kit

  Elliot, the spineless asshole, could be dead, hiding, or worse, out of the country by now, leaving Caro holding the proverbial bag.

  “Caro, can I have your phone?” I hold out my hand.

  Understanding why I’m asking, she unlocks the phone and taps a few times, bringing up the texts from the unknown caller before giving it to me.

  “Do you have any idea what these mean or who could be sending them?”

  Flora blanches while she reads, vehemently shaking her head. “I don’t know who that is but if I had to guess, they’re talking about whatever Elliot did.”

  “And why are they looking at Caro?” I leave out the “and not you” to my question. Flora’s sensitive to other women, and she doesn’t need to feel any more on the defensive than she already is. I need to keep her talking.

  She’s saved from answering when the same nurse who relieved her for lunch opens the door.

  “Flora? What are you doing in here?” A deep groove forms between the woman’s knitted brows. “All of you out, now. Flora, your lunch is over. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Caro and I share a look, both hightailing it to the front of the clinic as the nurse calls after us. We’re not sticking around for any questions as to why we were back in the staff area of the clinic.

  The harsh snap of wintry air lashes at my face and Caro ducks her head, pulling her jacket tighter around herself and shoving on her mitts. I grab at her hand, curling mine around her wool mitten.

  She peers up at me. “What do you think about all that?”

  We trudge up the street toward the public parking lot, less than a block from the clinic.

  “We need to find Elliot.” I fish the key from my pocket.

  Everything comes back to this asshole, and while our theories and speculations have been on the money, Elliot has the shipment of drugs that will get Caro out of danger.

  “What I’m still trying to figure out is why Elliot has brought me into this.”

  I swing her around to face me. Why can’t she see what’s right in front of her? Is she so deep in denial that she’s unable to entertain the possibility of Elliot being a bad motherfucker?

  “Caro, whoever’s in charge has been led to believe you’re Flora in Elliot’s dealings.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it. Flora’s role in this. She’s his partner even if she doesn’t know everything.” I pause, letting all that Flora just shared with us sink in.

  “But Elliot made it look like you are. Your name on the shipping labels. The Jane Clinic was a known location to whoever distributes the drugs. And from the sounds of things, the distributor or dealer doesn’t know about the Deer Park Clinic. If they did, Flora would have mentioned getting a similar visit to what you did.”

  I squeeze her hand. “He set you up to be his scapegoat. He’s missing and they’re looking at you.”

  “It’s so stupid. Of course. Hearing you say it all out loud.” She pulls away, taking her hand from mine.

  Her mouth opens and closes twice before anything comes out. “Most of what you just laid out, I knew…but a silly part of me didn’t want to believe he’d do that.”

  It pisses me off that she can’t see her ex is an asshole, and I’m no good at keeping it to myself. “Why? Because he’s well educated and a fucking doctor?”

  “What?” She’s taken aback and her posture goes rigid, but it’s short-lived. She stands in front of me and softens her expression. “No. Because I didn’t think he was smart enough to set up someone and…I’m ticked at myself for not seeing what was right in front of me. If I’m being honest, our relationship was kind of like a beard for each of us, hiding something else. I didn’t want to date or be hassled or set up on a blind date and he…he was keeping me preoccupied so he could operate out of the clinic undetected.”

  My lips mash together, forcing the I told you he was a dick down my throat. It’s the last thing she needs to hear. I grip her hand once more and we resume walking, this time at a quicker pace, toward the car. It’s started to rain, freezing rain.

  Once inside the car, she leans over and grips my arm, preventing me from doing any more than starting the SUV.

  “Kit, listen. Elliot wasn’t anything serious. We didn’t really hang out and even when we both worked at the clinic, we…we didn’t have much to do with each other.” She shrugs, releasing me. “I don’t know how to explain it, and when I look back, I wonder why I even dated him. There wasn’t any attraction.”

  She sinks back into the passenger seat, imploring me with her warm gaze to hear every word she utters. Sincerity radiates from her and the lump in my throat loosens.

  “He served a purpose for me. I hate to say it like this but I think I used him and he obviously did the same to me.”

  “Used him? How?” I do not want to hear about her sexual needs and how that fucking asshole…ah, fuck no. My gut roils.

  “Colleagues and friends didn’t hound me since I was seeing someone. No one pestered me to go out to a club or offered to set me up on a blind date.”

  “Oh.” Flicking on the windshield wipers, I watch the rain splat onto the glass, unsure what to say or how to feel. Each raindrop flattens and freezes upon contact, but just as quickly the frozen snowflake is destroyed with the swipe of a blade.

  “You know, I’m not objective when it comes to Elliot and…” I look away for a second, wanting not to sound like a jealous asshole or a pussy. “I really don’t like the guy. In fact, it’s fair to say I hate him after all he’s put you through.”

  “I don’t like him either.” She leans closer to me, resting her hand on my thigh.

  “Thanks for explaining all of that to me.” My lips press to hers and she tastes so sweet, like candy. “We should get a move on.”

  Groaning, her forehead rests against my chest before she pulls away. “Yes, we should. If this keeps up, the roads are going to be crappy.”

  She squeezes my arm and pulls the belt over her middle, clicking it into place. I hit the dial pad on the car screen and bring up a number.

  “Let’s see if Logan’s got any new information.”

  He’s supposed to have feelers out on Elliot and the drug, but I haven’t heard anything. The car eases into traffic and it’s slow going with the change in weather.

  Even with winter four to six months of the year, it always amazes me how people suddenly forget how to drive with a little snow or ice.

  “Yo, what’s up?” Logan’s voice filters through the car speakers.

  “Hey, Caro and I just talked to Flora Brown.”

  “Oh yeah? Isn’t she the chick who’s banging Elliot?” He chuckles and clears his throat. “Shit, C
aro’s with you, right?”

  “Yes, I’m here.” Caro rolls her eyes.

  “My bad, not cool.” The idiot just remembered Caro and Elliot were a thing and I can’t help but laugh. It comes easier since Caro’s showed me what she had with the doctor was nothing.

  “Logan, don’t sweat it. Tell us what you found out.” Her lopsided I like to see him squirm grin is infectious. “Flora had a lot to say.”

  “Yeah, I meant to call last night but, uh, I got busy with an old friend.”

  “You can stop right there.” She shakes her head, cutting him off and sparing us the graphic details of his night.

  “Logan, this is important. I need you at your best. Remember what Nick said.” I hate playing the hardass, but left on his own, Logan will take his sweet time getting answers, or worse, he’ll hit the road without a word.

  “Hey, relax. I’m on it. Really nothing to report on Elliot. No one’s heard of him, but they all know the pill. It’s called beetle juice—a high dose of oxy.”

  My pulse spikes, excited to have confirmation of information from more than one source. “Yeah, that’s what Flora said too.”

  “It’s very popular. You can get it pretty much anywhere in the city, but not right now.”

  “Is that because of supply?” She leans forward in her seat.

  “Yeah, there’s a shortage on the street. Dealers were promised and have paid for the stuff, but they’ve been left dry. There’s a lot of angry dealers and the supplier’s shitting bricks. Tensions are high on the street and some say blood will be spilled.”

  “Who’s the supplier?” I change lanes, keeping an eye on a black SUV, possibly an Escalade, two cars behind that has been on us since I left the parking lot.

  It could be nothing, but then again, we’re due for a surprise. The forty-eight hours are up and according to Flora, no one knows about her existence in Elliot’s operation. In which case, the Deer Park Clinic isn’t being watched.

  Caro is a different story.