by Kishan Paul
A partition jutted out from the bookcase to his left. It sat perpendicular to the wall-to-wall bookcases and hadn’t been there yesterday when he scoped out the place.
“Don’t mind me, I’m just going to wander around,” he muttered and headed over to the mystery wall, testing out the wheels of the base, which allowed it to slide in and out. Since she still hadn’t said a word, he inspected a little deeper. This time, he checked inside the open wall safe, in particular, the weapons stashed inside.
“Impressive,” he said as he picked up the Glock from the stash of guns on the shelf. “I might need to test these babies out.”
Unlike before, his statement was received with a quick intake of breath from her. He glanced over in time to see her jump a good two feet from her spot by the desk. In the process of her little leap, the paper she held and something gold flew across the room. Eddie slid the gun back to its spot in the safe and waited for her to catch her breath.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Ally planted a hand to her chest and pulled out the earbuds.
He crossed his arms and nodded, taking in her red, swollen eyes and the diamond ring on her wedding finger. “I caught that. And for the record, I knocked before I entered.”
She rubbed away the wet streaks on her cheeks and turned her back to him. “I must have had the volume up too high on my headphones.”
He didn’t approach her; clearly, she didn’t want him to. While she messed with the small black safe positioned on the desk in front of her, he focused on the paper she’d tossed when he scared her. The white sheet smudged with red looked as if someone had taken a knife to it. “What are you listening to?”
“My past.”
“I thought you weren’t interested in remembering.” He squatted and grabbed the sheet from the floor. It didn’t take much inspection to determine the red smudges were dried blood.
“I changed my mind,” she whispered.
“I’m curious. What part of listening to your past”—he picked up the man’s gold wedding band laying by his foot, noticing it matched the one David wore in the photo he held—“involves cutting up this picture of you and he whose name I am not allowed to utter and making it look like it should be submitted as evidence in a twisted murder scene?”
She twined the wires to her earbuds around the electronic device and laughed. He wasn’t sure if the laugh was a good thing or a solid indication the woman had lost her mind. She paused mid-wrap and fixed her gaze on him. “You can say his name.”
Her request made him raise a brow and rise to his feet. “Considering you slashed up your own wedding picture and spilled blood in the process, I think I’ll hold off on saying his name.”
Alisha dropped the device in the box and picked up the picture. “It’s my blood.”
She must have considered her admission a sufficient answer because she continued with her task and offered no further explanation. He slid the evidence beside the container and sat his ass on the edge of the desk while she worked.
“Are you going to explain, or do I have to make up my version of events?”
“I bet my version’s a lot more boring than yours.” She dropped David’s ring in a bag.
He didn’t respond. Just waited for her to fill in the blanks.
“It used to be in a frame. Really pretty stained wood.” She laid the image in question on top of the other stuff. “When I brought Jay home from the hospital, after finding out about his AA, I came in here and took out the picture.”
She stared at the wedding ring still on her finger. “That was a really hard day.” Her voice cracked. He fought the urge to touch her, keeping his arms crossed and hands fisted.
“I missed him more than normal that day. Needed him to be here and promise me things would turn out okay. That we’d get through this together. But, of course, he couldn’t…”
Eddie gave up on restraining himself and wrapped his hand around her wrist, giving her a squeeze. “I know I’m not him, but it is going to be okay.”
“Thank you, Eddie, I think so too.” She removed the ring from her finger, dropped it in the white pouch with the other, and slipped it into the black case before she secured the lid and picked it up.
Eddie kept his butt rooted to the edge of the desk, letting her have her goodbye. The door to the wall safe thudded when she sealed it shut. “I think it all got to me, the physical and emotional exhaustion from being in the hospital for over a week.”
“Angry enough to rip up your wedding picture?”
“No. I’d have never destroyed it on purpose.” She slid the hidden wall back into the slot between the bookcases until it clicked.
“I dropped the picture.” She stood in the center of the room and put her hands on her hips as she stared at the wooden floor. “Glass shards and pieces of the frame were everywhere. After the week I’d had, I cracked. I lost it. Not only because that was the only picture I had of us, but because of what it represented to him.”
She sat on the edge of the desk beside him and stared out across the room. “He kept the same frame on his desk at work after I disappeared. He said when it got to be too much, he’d just stare at it and think about me. When it broke…” She shrugged. “I kind of broke too. And there I was on my knees, trying to pull out the glass pieces stuck in it….”
The image of her alone and vulnerable tore him. “It cut you,” Eddie finished.
“In more ways than just the physical. Not my finest moment.” She stared at the floor. “The way I acted scared me. Hence my decision to stop looking at the pictures. Stop remembering, for my own sanity.”
“Come here.” Eddie wrapped his arm around her, put a hand on the side of her face, gently shoving until it rested on his shoulder. “I’ll get you a new copy of it. One that doesn’t look like you went homicidal.”
“You can’t replace it. It meant a lot to me because it meant something to him, and then I destroyed it and lost my mind.”
“Yeah, you kinda did.” Eddie chuckled. “But speaking of losing your minds, did he ever tell you about the time he punched a couple holes in a bathroom wall?”
Her hair tickled his skin when she shook her head.
He rested his cheek against her forehead and played with her hair. “Of course not. He would have tried to kick my ass for telling you this because then you wouldn’t think he was perfect.”
“I didn’t think he was perfect. Well…” She chuckled. “Not at everything.”
He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, he had just found out you were alive, and what does he do? He goes in the hotel bathroom and decides the wall is a piece of meat he needs to tenderize. With his fists.”
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
“People do strange things when they’re upset.” Eddie turned her hand over and rested it on his knee, tracing the lines on her palm with his finger. “Like trying to glue pieces of glass and paper together with their blood.”
She elbowed him, making him grin.
“Anyway, he impressed me that night. This guy whose name I can’t utter.”
“David.”
Eddie stilled for a moment. Then he nodded and continued, “Yeah, so then the million-dollar question is: If the perfect Saint David had crazy times, then is going a little crazy now and then really a bad thing?”
“Depends on the level.”
“Good point. Let’s take out the slitting your fingers on glass part.”
“I wish I had never told you.”
His chest warmed not only from her laugh but also because she’d started to ease up. Her head was heavier on his shoulder, and she leaned in closer. “Isn’t talking about feelings considered a good thing? I mean, you’re the head doctor. Or were the head doctor and all.”
“It is. But those memories of loss are painful for me, so I suppress a lot of them.”
Her lashes pressed against her cheeks when she closed her eyes. He twined his fingers through hers and held tight. “If things don’t work out and Little Bea
r or Raz die, will you suppress your memories of them?”
She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
“How about if they don’t die, but you do? Would you want them to suppress their memories about you?”
Again, no response. Those thick lashes lifted as she stared across the room.
“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, so keep that in mind when I say this, but when it comes to yourself, you make some seriously messed-up decisions and do stupid shit.” He grinned when she cursed him under her breath. “Do you want me to start listing them for you? Because trust me, I haven’t suppressed any of them.”
When she reached over and swatted his head, he laughed and hugged her tighter.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PHILADELPHIA
Eddie finished his text and hit send while mother and son entered the empty elevator of the airport hotel. He followed them into the cramped space and tucked the cell in his jeans pocket before pressing the fifth-floor button. Only after the doors slid shut did he turn his attention to the other occupants.
Arms crossed and back to him, Alisha stared out the glass wall of the lift into the lobby. Aside from the necessary responses, she’d been lost in her thoughts since they’d landed. The closer they got to Philadelphia International Airport, the tenser she got. By the time they arrived at the terminal and walked through the halls to the airport hotel, she’d wound up so tight, he half expected the top of her head to flip open and for a toy clown to pop out and play music.
From the way Raz kept glancing at her, he shared the same assessment. He kinda felt sorry for the kid too. The poor guy had unsuccessfully spent the past hour or so trying to get her to speak, eat, drink, relax in some way. Even when he shared embarrassing stories about himself and Eddie from the past few months, her laughs were forced. After a while of listening to his attempts, Eddie motioned for him to shut up and let her be.
She’d returned to Philly for the first time in years. And she was the kind of person who needed to process all the emotional shit connected with homecoming. Eddie let out a breath. He also knew what awaited her once they got to the fifth floor. Things would either get better or a hell of a lot worse.
He nudged her shoulder with his own. “How are you holding up?”
She didn’t respond, just continued her in-depth assessment of the now-miniature hotel lobby.
“It’s your first time back,” he added not just for her, but also for Raz’s sake. “The city probably brings back a lot of memories.”
She nodded. “It’s the same but different.”
The muscles of her long neck moved as she swallowed. “I keep thinking about the day David brought me home after Sayeed. So many fears…” Her chest rose when she took a breath. She returned her attention to whatever thoughts were running in her head, and he knew she was done talking. Which probably worked best, considering the tension spilling from Raz at the mention of her dead husband’s name. Eddie rolled his eyes. The occupants in the elevator, aside from himself, needed to deal with their David issues. One had trouble uttering his name while the other had trouble hearing it.
The bell dinged, and a second later the doors slid open. He stepped out first and tipped his head to the left. “You see the tall, bald, white man standing in the hall?” As if hearing his words, the tall, bald, white man in question nodded at them. “That’s where we’re headed.”
He let the two lead the way and followed behind. Raz kept a protective hand around her elbow the entire stretch and didn’t let go when they reached the destination.
Once he finished introducing them to Chris, Eddie pinned his focus on Alisha. “You’ll hang out in there. We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Raz said, his hand still glued to his mother.
“No,” she announced before Eddie had a chance. “I’m okay. If Eddie thinks I need to be in there alone, then that’s where I need to be.”
She’d stuck to the vow of compliance she’d made the night before. Eddie grimaced. The words only added to the guilt of what he was about to do. “You won’t be alone.”
He rubbed the nape of his neck. “If things go according to plan, in a few days, people will know you’re alive. I figured you’d want a chance to tell the ones who mattered in person before then.”
She blinked a few times, her gaze shifting between him and the closed door. She took a step forward and pressed her fingertips against its deep red surface. “Who’s in there?”
“Your parents, brother, and sister.”
She sucked in a breath and took the same step back. “They know I’m alive?”
He grinned. “Aside from the daily voicemails Reya leaves the CIA saying, ‘I know she’s alive. Where the fuck is she?’ No. They have not been told.”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “I knew they wouldn’t believe it.”
He grabbed the key card Chris held out. “You have three hours with them before we head back to the airport. Make the best of it.”
Her gaze fixed down the hall toward the elevators, and she backed away from the door. “I can’t go in there.”
Eddie stepped in her escape path before she could run and gripped her elbow. “You need to go inside.”
“Don’t do this.” Her voice low, the tone screamed of terror. “They need to believe I’m dead.”
“And like I said, in a few days they’ll know you’re not.”
She slid her arm out of his grip. “There’s no guarantee. I can’t put them through this again. If I see them now and something happens to me…” Anger flashed across her face. “Do you think this reunion will stop me from going?” She ground her teeth and shook her head. “Don’t make them suffer.”
The woman was too smart for her own good. Any chance of getting through to her currently occupied the room beside them. He handed the card to Raz and moved close, until his face was inches from her. “Don’t do anything stupid that’ll get you killed, and they won’t suffer.” He swallowed down the self-doubt rising in his throat and tipped his head at Raz. “Open the door.”
As soon as it opened, Eddie moved out of the path, allowing the occupants a clear visual of her.
“Di?” Reya shrieked.
He gripped her arm and shoved her inside before shutting the door behind her. Eddie rubbed the agitation in his neck while he stayed rooted to the spot, listening to the voices on the other side. Whether she realized it or not, she belonged here. She needed to rein in her eagerness, to understand the risks she took. And she would, with people like the ones in the room behind him.
Chris cleared his throat. “She’s waiting for you.” He waved a key card at him and pointed his finger at the ceiling. “814.”
“She’s here?”
“Oh yeah.” Chris grinned. “She wanted to make sure you made time for her before you left on your little trip.”
He muttered under his breath and glanced down the hall and back at the room Alisha had entered. “You going to stay here?”
The man leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “Not moving an inch.”
Tension twisted its way up Eddie’s spine, impregnating every organ along its path. He moved through the hotel hallway, his steps quick, purposeful. He slowed his stroll when he approached the three brass elevators and considered his options.
Fuck it.
He headed for the stairs.
Waiting a few extra minutes wouldn’t kill her.
The her in question was a woman he hadn’t seen in years. They had both worked for The Counterterrorism Department, except he for the CIA and she for the FBI. Because of their jobs, their paths crossed on a few occasions, and she’d impressed the hell out of him each time they did. While she’d moved up the proverbial career ladder, he moved out: out of the agency and out of the country. Funny how life kept flashing the middle finger at him and sucking him back into the bureaucracy he’d tried to run away from.
It wasn’t until they arrived at the eighth-floor landing that he
acknowledged Raz at his side. “You’re about to watch a master at work. She’s skilled at reading people and gaining their compliance. Say nothing, admit to nothing, and I will take care of the rest. Understood?”
A thick lump moved down the kid’s throat when he swallowed. Once Raz nodded his understanding, Eddie entered the carpeted hallway, located the room matching the number indicated on his key, flashed the card at the sensor, and entered.
Set up like a basic hotel room, a bathroom sat directly on their left, an empty closet to their right. A few steps in and they found two untouched double beds. It was, however, the love seat at the far left and the person occupying one of the two matching armchairs across from it that possessed his complete attention.
A lean woman of average height, she rose from her spot, dressed in her standard navy slacks with a cream long-sleeve dress shirt tucked in, and her dark hair pulled taut in its usual knot at the base of her neck. Aside from the bright red on her lips, she wore little makeup. She greeted him with a polite smile. “Hello, Eddie. It’s been a while.”
“It has,” he replied, giving her hand a firm shake. “Thank you for taking the time to see me. I know you’re busy.”
She gave him a brisk nod. “I am busy, but this was important.”
That was exactly what scared the shit out of him.
“And you must be Razaa.” She stretched out her palm “Susan Kerry. I’m the Deputy Director of Investigations over at the FBI. Your boss and I have worked together in the past.”
“The director is one of the few people I can’t seem to get away from,” Eddie added while Raz shook her hand. “Somehow, she has a way of finding me.”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “I wouldn’t be able to find you if you really wanted to be hidden.” She returned to her spot in the armchair and waved at the love seat facing her. “Have a seat, boys. Let’s discuss why we’re all here.”
She crossed her legs and waited for them to get cozy on the tiny sofa before continuing. “It appears we both want the same thing.”