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A Grave Peril

Page 22

by Wendy Roberts

I looked down at my hands, surprised to see them shaking, and unable to speak.

  “Julie, you are not the person you were before,” Dr. Chen said gently. “You are strong enough to handle this, no matter which way it goes.”

  “Am I?” I asked on a whisper. “The quicksand...”

  The dark and sticky quicksand thoughts that sucked me into the horrible memories of my abusive childhood.

  “There is no more quicksand. You are beyond that.” She sat up straighter. “Have you had a drink?”

  “No.” I licked my lips despite myself.

  “But you’ve thought about having one?”

  “One?” I laughed mirthlessly because the idea of only one drink was a ridiculous understatement. I stiffened. “Sure. But I’m not going to cave.” I met her gaze for the first time since I entered the room. “I won’t.”

  She nodded. “I believe you.” She softly clapped her hands. “And I believe you will get through this hardship and come through stronger. Just like always.”

  Yes, I’d come through many hardships. My body carried the scars of a childhood fraught with the kind of abuse most people couldn’t even imagine, and I was still triggered. They called it PTSD and there were times it felt like a life sentence.

  Yes, I was stronger than I was the first time I’d met Dr. Chen. But there had to be a limit. How much could one person take? I’d broken before. How much more could my mind take before it snapped? Again. Was it fair to Garrett to expect him to stick around through another breakdown?

  “You have learned all the skills you need to help you in hard times, and I’m confident you’ll use what you’ve learned to help you now.”

  She said it with such force that I almost believed it to be true in my head, if not my heart.

  We sat for a few more minutes while she brought me through some meditation rituals that I knew as well as I knew the freckle on the back of my right hand. When I left her office, my knees were wobbly with mental fatigue, but my insides felt stronger.

  I’d kept my phone turned off since I left my house, but I turned it back on as I walked to my car. One missed call from an unknown number and a few texts from Tracey asking me to check in so she knew I was okay. I called her.

  “Sorry for leaving like that,” I told her. “Figured it was time to get a new car and also wanted to do a few, um, errands.”

  “Just glad you’re okay.” She added, “Ouch!” Then apologized to me, “Sorry, Craig is changing my bandages, and apparently he thinks that the quicker he does it, the less it’ll hurt. He’s wrong about that.”

  “I feel so bad about your burn.”

  “Don’t.”

  That was easier said than done.

  “So-o-o...”

  I allowed a pause to stretch between us because the answer to my next question weighed so heavy on my mind.

  “Yes, he called here,” she said, following up with a string of curses meant for Craig.

  “Garrett?”

  “Of course, Garrett.” She sighed. “You need to call him back. I can give you his new number. Make nice-nice with your man. You’ll feel better.”

  “Maybe...” I chewed the edge of my thumb. “Or maybe we both need some time apart. Things were said and—”

  “Words can’t be taken back but apologies can’t happen unless you communicate.” She shouted to the side, “Goddamn, Craig, you’re absolutely killing me!” Then to me she added, “I’ve gotta go. Check in with me later so I know you’ve not been abducted by aliens or drove off a cliff, okay?”

  I told her I would. I unlocked my new Jeep and climbed inside. As I was doing up my seatbelt the same unknown caller from earlier sent me a text. It was Garrett.

  My new phone. I’m sorry about last night. I love you.

  I closed my eyes and drew air deep into my lungs. My fingers poised over my phone in reply. I wanted desperately for those words to be enough. And they could be. If only I’d let them.

  Instead of replying, I turned off my phone, picked up my backpack from the passenger seat and stuffed it inside. I needed to think about whether I was ready to go back home and pretend everything was okay. Maybe I was one of those people who wasn’t meant to be in a relationship. My sketchy upbringing, alcoholism and line of work weren’t exactly conducive to the type of person Garrett needed to come home to. I wasn’t wife or mother material. I was the weird dowsing girl. I’d always been a loner. I could do it again.

  Could you really? A small voice inside me sneered.

  “Shaddup,” I replied as I slowed my vehicle into an upcoming traffic snarl.

  Driving through Seattle traffic might not seem like the ideal way to relax, but it gave me something to concentrate on besides Garrett. I crossed over into Bellevue and thought about my last trip there and my run-in with Meg who’d turned out to be Josephine. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. If I’d known then that she was the wife of Mateo Flores who was suspected of single-handedly disappearing drug traffickers who challenged her and who was partly responsible for kidnapping and hurting Garrett and Sid, I wondered if I would’ve killed her on the spot.

  Soon, I found myself parked again outside Sid’s house. There was no crime scene tape. Nothing to indicate the feds had been by to check out the blood puddle in the bathroom off the den. Because, of course, the only person I’d contacted about that had been Karla Powel. I hit my forehead with the heel of my palm. No doubt the feds would get around to going through Sid’s house. I’d told Garrett that I thought Josephine Flores was staying here. He’d definitely report it to his fellow agents, so they could check here for her, even though she was probably long gone to Mexico along with her husband.

  “Remember what Agent Garrett Pierce told you.” I did a mocking impression of his deep baritone. “You need to stick to doing your own stuff and leave drug cartels to the FBI.”

  The hurtful words were burned into my head and heart.

  He’d been the one to show up at my single-wide trailer years ago asking for help on a case. He’d arrived as an FBI agent needing my help to find bodies. He’d needed my help. But things were more complicated once love was involved.

  I sat staring at Sid’s house and questioning my reason for the drive besides running away from my life. I decided to call Tracey and ask if she’d mind putting me up for one more night. Reaching for my backpack to get my phone, I felt my divining rods jerk with so much force that I had a difficult time keeping them from flying right out of the bag.

  “What the hell?” I murmured.

  But suddenly I knew the reason I’d felt like I needed to return here. I called 9-1-1 before I even got out of my vehicle and told the dispatch operator where to send police. I told them I’d found a body and then I disconnected.

  Garrett had been wrong about one important thing. Sid hadn’t decided to go into hiding at Garrett’s insistence. When I’d called Sid’s office, his assistant said Sid had been on leave for several weeks due to a death in the family. He’d gone into hiding, and Mateo Flores’s wife, Josephine, had taken over here. That’s why, when I saw him at the hospital, Sid had told me he’d never return here. He knew Josephine had taken over his house and was using it as her personal home base. I was guessing Sid reached out to Garrett only because he could use him to save his own ass.

  I wondered if Garrett had any idea what a low-down scumbag his brother-in-law was, or if he’d always believe poor Sid just got roped in by the money. Shaking my head, I thought about all those notes I’d taken away from Sid’s den when I was here. The bag of notes was still crammed into the bottom of my backpack. A brief tickle of remembrance tried to come through, but I had no time to think it through. The dowsing rods were tugging me hard.

  As if being pulled by a strong rope tied to my wrist, I followed the rods and found myself crossing the beautiful landscaped yard. Directly in front of the large garden shed built to resemb
le a gingerbread cottage, the rods crossed.

  My throat tightened as I put the rods in my pack. I retrieved my bandana and used it to cover my hand so as not to disturb evidence or leave my own prints behind as I placed my hand on the door. I tried the handle and found it locked, but even through the cedar boards I could smell the stench of death. A quick search around the cutely painted door frame and then under a flower pot led me to the discovery of a key.

  Before I opened the door, I steeled myself for what I would find. Even though I thought I was prepared, the sight and stench of the bodies of a dozen young men knocked me backward. They’d each been bound, gagged and shot execution style in the center of their foreheads. Flies buzzed noisily in the stifling room and my head swam as I closed the door and walked away.

  When the police arrived, they found me still vomiting in nearby bushes.

  I told the officers about this being a federal case because of the connection to the Flores cartel and gave them Garrett’s number. It took him only an hour to arrive.

  When he approached, the concern and love on his face warred with his need to be a professional FBI agent. I saw the conflict on his weary face but when his eyes met mine there was only raw love.

  I looked away. I wasn’t ready.

  Garrett was surrounded by other officers and I took that opportunity to leave. Everyone concerned had all my information and would be in touch. This wasn’t my first rodeo. I knew how the business of finding the dead worked and Garrett would be tied up for hours.

  Sid had said he would never return to his house. And now I knew why. He’d known this was where Josephine was stashing the bodies. No doubt he’d reached out to Garrett only because having an FBI officer on his side would help the cartel and save his own ass.

  I’d just started the Jeep when a rap on my window made me jump. It was Garrett. I rolled down the window.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “You’ve got work to do, Agent Pierce. Remember your own words; I did my job.” My words were cool and calm, hiding all the emotion beneath. “Now it’s your turn to do yours.”

  “I’m sorry about last night.” He reached in through the window and put a hand on my shoulder. “I was out of my mind thinking about you risking your life for me. That’s not an excuse for my behavior. I was way out of line. I should never have spoken to you that way.”

  “Yeah, well...” I cleared my throat. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Go home. I’ll meet you there once I’m done here.” He gave my shoulder a light squeeze. “Please.”

  “I’m going back to Tracey’s.” I looked down in my lap. “I think we need some time apart, Garrett.”

  “No, we don’t.” His voice was urgent. “We just need to talk things out.”

  “Maybe it’s just me then. I guess I’m the one who needs some time.”

  He thought about that for a few seconds and removed his hand from my shoulder. “Take as much time as you need. I love you, Julie. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  With that he turned and walked away, and I drew in a deep jagged breath that I expelled on silent prayer as I pulled out of the driveway.

  The driveway and street were lined with various undercover and marked law enforcement vehicles. I drove carefully between them to turn onto the main road. I was low on gas and headed in the opposite direction that I’d come, to make my way toward a gas station. Two driveways down from Sid’s was another large house tucked behind a hedge of brown, dried cedar trees. I caught a glimpse of color between the thin, frail bushes. There was a yellow car in the driveway near the house. I slowed and squinted as I went by. Definitely a Volkswagen Beetle like the one I’d seen Josephine get into when she left me at Sid’s house. I kept driving a little farther down the street and then made a U-turn. I pulled over near the driveway where I’d seen the yellow VW.

  I kept my Jeep running as I reached for my phone. I’d taken a picture of Josephine’s car and license plate when she’d pulled out of Sid’s garage. Before I called all the authorities away from the bodies found at Sid’s place, I needed to be sure that the car I’d spotted belonged to Josephine Flores.

  As I scrolled through my phone I saw up ahead that a group of federal agents, Garrett’s coworkers, were standing on the side of the road in front of Sid’s driveway. They were waving in the arriving coroner’s vehicle and pointing to where the van could squeeze onto the driveway. As the clutch of agents stepped onto the road, movement in the bushes up ahead on my side caused me to turn my head. A woman stepped out of the trees and onto the road. It was Josephine Flores and she was carrying an assault weapon nearly as large her petite frame.

  The agents all had their backs turned and I watched in horror as Josephine took aim at them from the edge of the road only a few yards away. Even if the agents could spot her it would only take one pull of her finger and she could easily take them all out before they could react.

  A furious scream exploded from my throat, and I punched the accelerator of my Jeep and pointed it directly at the woman. The sickening crush of impact tossed Josephine Flores as if she were weightless, and she landed twisted and broken in the ditch a half dozen yards away.

  Reactions were swift. A clutch of agents had their weapons drawn and pointed in my direction and a few made their way toward the body. I sat with my hands in the air and waited.

  Garrett stepped out onto the road, trying to take in what had happened. He jogged over to my vehicle and opened the driver’s side door.

  “Josephine Flores.” I pointed a shaky finger in the direction where the woman’s body lay. “She—She was going to kill all of them so I—” A choked whimper broke my throat. “So, I had to...”

  But I couldn’t finish, and Garrett leaned into the door and turned the vehicle off.

  “Jesus, I thought you’d left!” he exclaimed. “Instead, you decided to stick around and mow down Mateo Flores’s wife?” His voice held anger and terror simultaneously. I wanted him to hold and comfort me but, instead, he pointed a finger in my face. “Stay here. Seriously. Don’t move.”

  I couldn’t have moved if I wanted. My entire body was shaking.

  For an hour I waited around. My vehicle was impounded and, after my statement was taken by other agents and officers, a uniformed policeman was told to take me home. I sat in the back seat, an aching emptiness in my chest. Garrett was going to be tied up until late and I was going to be happy to be home to be comforted by Wookie’s licks as I hugged him tight.

  When the officer dropped me off in the driveway, Preston came out of his house. His head was wrapped in a bandage with a large bulge over his ear, and his arm was in a sling. He walked toward me with Phil at his side.

  “Sweet new ride,” Preston joked. He walked around me and had a few words with the officer, after showing his identification.

  Phil gave me a hug. “You look like an absolute mess.” He nodded toward the police car. “And you have to get a different car.”

  “I did.” I took in a breath and laughed. “Long story but I guess my new Jeep will be returned to me. Hopefully soon.”

  “At least you got a new one. I guess there’s something to be said for getting your old one blown up.”

  “And having a pipe burst,” Preston added. “Blown-up car got you a new Jeep and burst pipes got you a new floor.”

  “I’d rather make those changes without having the old stuff ruined.” I forced a smile, then added to Preston, “I’m sorry about shooting you.”

  “Under the circumstances you did what you could with what you knew. I’m just glad you weren’t a better shot!”

  “Me too.” I laughed as I picked up my duffel bag and backpack. “You heard about the bodies in Bellevue?”

  He nodded, and his face grew serious. “And about you running over Josephine Flores.” He let out a low whistle. “I wanted to go with Garrett when he got called but he said I
wasn’t healed enough to be working. He can be a stubborn dick when it comes to protecting people.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “They found Mateo Flores too,” Preston said. “He was hiding in the back seat of some yellow VW.”

  “Good,” I said. “I’m glad this is over.”

  Wookie was barking at us through the window, obviously happy to see me and probably desperate to go out.

  “Go tend to your baby,” Phil said with a bright smile.

  “He really is like my child,” I admitted. When I opened the door, Wookie ran up to greet me. “Hey, sweet baby boy, are you ready to go out?” I asked in a singsong voice.

  I laughed and rubbed his head then let him out into the backyard. The new fence looked great and Wookie enjoyed the freedom to run all over. It wasn’t the acreage I’d had at my house before this one, or on the farm before that, but Wookie didn’t care. And maybe I didn’t either. Maybe I didn’t mind having neighbors as much as I thought. I left the patio door open, so Wookie could come back inside while I went and brought my bags to the bedroom.

  I sat on our bed with a sigh. This was home, but I could only call it that if Garrett and I could work things out. I thought about the anger in his voice when he’d talked to me in the Jeep. I’d needed him to comfort me, but he’d just left me sitting there. If I couldn’t work things out with Garrett, then I’d just find another place to live. As I sorted through my bag, I debated refilling it with more clean clothes and going to spend another night at Tracey’s.

  Garrett had placed Faith’s wedding ring on our dresser and I got up and touched a gentle finger to it.

  “Thanks again for your help,” I told Faith. “I don’t know what’ll happen between me and Garrett, but I’m still glad you were able to lead me to him. Even if Garrett doesn’t think he needs my help.”

  “I was wrong about that,” Garrett said from behind me.

  I turned to see him, embarrassed at having been caught talking to his dead wife, and wishing I’d gotten out of the house before he came back home.

  “I thought you’d have to stay on scene until things finished up,” I said, taking a step back and sitting on our bed.

 

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