The Dead Rogue

by L B Wyatt

  She didn’t think the muscle had been cut, but at the moment there wasn’t much she could really figure out. The attacker was back at it, swinging again—this time for her neck. She ducked down to gather her strength and rammed her body into his like she’d played football her whole life. She could tell by the oomph of air that escaped his lungs she had caught him by surprise. She pushed with everything she had and slung him over the rails of the staircase.

  She saw the scared, alarmed look in his widened eyes through his ski mask as he tumbled back. The knife clattered to the floor loudly, echoing up and down the well as he reached out in an effort to save himself. He snatched the string on her bikini top and Veronica lurched forward for a split second before it snapped loose. The perp cried out as he fell three stories below to what kind of demise she didn’t know.

  Veronica heard the sickening sound of his body colliding with the concrete below followed by a deafening silence. She collapsed against the wall, still holding her side. It was bleeding profusely and she knew she needed to get to her apartment and see how much damage had been done. But she found her feet slowly slipping out from under her as she slid to the floor on her butt. She thought if she rested and allowed the adrenaline to dissipate, she would get up soon and find an elevator. She was thinking about leaving a horrendous blood trail and what she was going to do with the body when her mind gave out completely and her head lulled to the side as she lost all consciousness.

  Chapter Seven

  While it was pain that forced her into unconsciousness, unfortunately it was pain that brought her out of it. Veronica came awake with a start, drawing in an exaggerated breath and trying to lift herself up. She was promptly pushed back down by a strong hand and reprimanded with a familiar voice.

  “Settle down now. You’ll ruin all my beautiful work.”

  But settling down was hard to do. On top of already having her side split open, she felt the pinch of a needle piercing her flesh, followed by the unexplainable sensation of the thread being pulled through.

  “What are you doing here, Harry?” Veronica managed. She allowed her shoulders to relax a little when she fully understood she was no longer in danger’s way.

  She had known the white-haired gentleman hovering over her all through her youth. He had been her family doctor on the east coast until he retired and moved to Music City. She would never admit it, but having a couple of familiar faces helped with her decision to accept the position at the station when Morro offered it shortly after things fell apart with Arc. She had moved to Tennessee knowing the doctor wasn’t too far away. She was thankful for that now.

  He paused in his efforts long enough to glance up at her over his bifocals with a curious expression on his brow. “You called me, Veronica.”

  “I did?” She couldn’t contain the surprise in her voice.

  “Did you hit your head as well?” he questioned professionally.

  Veronica raised her right arm up and rubbed her forehead, thinking back on the events that had come to pass. She remembered the attack vividly, but the last thing she recalled was the amount of blood flowing out of her body causing her to be so weak she collapsed on the landing of the staircase.

  “Where was I when you got here?” she inquired. It felt strange to be investigating her own actions.

  Harry threaded his last stitch and clipped the nylon. He grabbed sterile gauze off the bedside table and ripped it free from its packaging. He wiped away the fresh droplets of blood that had seeped during his procedure.

  “You were here, waiting on me. You had passed out from blood loss, though. I do recommend you following up at the hospital for a check of your hemoglobin to make sure you don’t need a transfusion.”

  Veronica only heard the first portion of that sentence. There was no way she could have walked back to her apartment in the shape she was in.

  “Veronica?” His voice drew her back from her train of thought.

  “Are you sure it was me who called you?” she demanded, reaching for her phone on the table beside her.

  “Yes, of course, I am. I’m retired, not senile,” he scoffed.

  Despite his assurance, she looked through her call list and sure enough, there was his contact on her most recently dialed numbers. What the hell, she thought.

  “What about the body?” she demanded, suddenly remembering with some alarm, but while her eyes were wild with wonder, he was already shaking his head.

  “You kept on and on about that when I got here, so I went down to the third floor stairwell and checked just as you had pleaded. But, there wasn’t a body there, Veronica.”

  Her heart sank with disappointment and she slowly narrowed her eyes. “But I pushed him over the rails…”

  “Yes, well, it was only three stories. People do survive falls like that,” he informed.

  She lapsed into thought while Harry continued to clean around her stitches with some alcohol. She flinched a little with the pain, but her thoughts had distracted her from the discomfort.

  “Do you know who attacked you?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

  “No,” she answered but the image of Dwight Ross’s face flashed through her mind. He was the only one she’d really pissed off as of late, and since she didn’t recognize those eerie eyes behind the ski mask, she assumed it must be one of the senator’s lapdogs.

  “Have you been making enemies during your adventures in Tennessee?”

  “I’m a detective, Harry, enemies are all I make.”

  He was quiet for another moment as he collected his tools in a small bag on the floor. “You should really report this,” he suggested.

  But Veronica was shaking her head before he finished that sentence. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

  Her words caused him to look up at her sharply, pulling his glasses off to stare hard. “You want this person to make another attempt on your life?” he demanded sounding so fatherly that her guts twisted with the words. While Veronica appreciated his concern, the conversation was starting to wear on her nerves.

  “I’ll be ready next time,” she vowed, more to herself than him.

  Harry shook his head and rubbed his eyes as though he were exhausted. “Oh, Veronica, you’ve always impressed me,” he admitted with a bemused tone.

  “I don’t see why. I’m nothing special, Doc.”

  Her response caused him to raise a fuzzy eyebrow. “Been talking to your mother lately?” he assumed. “How has she been?”

  Veronica shrugged, realizing her bathing suit was torn and she was barely decent in the presence of a man who had known her since she was just a little girl. She pulled her sheet across her body. “Keeping the liquor stores open and my self-esteem low. You know, the usual.” Her joke did nothing to fool him. She could tell when she glanced up that there was pity in his big brown eyes. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in years so Veronica had no idea how she was doing, but she was going to leave that little detail out.

  “Your father would have been so disappointed,” he sighed and she knew well enough Harry did not mean her father would have been disappointed in her. “But he loved you enough for both of your parents,” he concluded.

  Despite the comfort his words suggested, they simply fueled the fire behind barely controlled emotions deep within her. “You’re a medical doctor, Harry,” she reminded him harshly. “Save this psycho shit for someone who really needs it, K?”

  Harry’s eyes lost a bit of their sparkle as he asked, “You don’t think there’s unresolved issues from your past?”

  “None,” she said quickly.

  Harry raised that brow again and the illustration of a caterpillar trying to crawl off his forehead popped into her head unwillingly. If she wasn’t so angry, she might have giggled.

  “How have you been sleeping?” he continued seriously.

  She smiled sweetly, holding the anger at bay, even though it was lapping ferociously at the sides of her reserve. “Like a baby,” she lied.

  In
truth, she had never slept well. Her mind liked to play tricks on her whenever it could and most nights the past would come back to haunt her. She needed to be solving something to keep the demons from gnawing at what was left of her sanity. As long as she was working on a case, she was good.

  She could tell by his expression he didn’t believe her and he could tell by hers she wasn’t going to crack. So they both shut up and Harry quietly collected the rest of his things.

  “Always a pleasure, Veronica,” he said as he zipped his bag.

  “When do I cut these stitches out?” she wondered, pulling the sheet back to glance at her injury. She winced a little when she saw just how bad it was.

  “Give them two weeks,” he recommended. “And don’t be doing anything to rip that back open. I barely got it closed in time.” He fished around in his bag again and produced a bottle of pills. “Take these for a few days. Might help prevent an infection from setting up.”

  She nodded and took the bottle of antibiotics from him, whispering, “Thanks, Harry.”

  He nodded back and let out a breath as though there was so much more he wanted to say, but decided not to. She was thankful. She didn’t want to get into her past with anyone, especially someone who actually knew the dynamics that made her the twisted, messed up person she was today. She waited until she heard the door shut and then she stood up. Her bathing suit was a mess. It was torn and covered in blood and suddenly she felt a new anger surge through her.

  She loved that damn bikini.

  She peeled it off and threw it in the trash on her way to lock the front door. She grabbed her gun and took it to the shower with her. The long, jagged cut on her side stung like crazy as the hot water ran over it. She leaned on the wall for support with her shoulder and side aching and tried to calm down her racing thoughts. She was going to get nowhere fast in this state of mind. She needed to calm down so she could figure out who put a hit out on her life and how to stop them from completing the job next time.

  ∞∞∞

  The next morning, Veronica made her way to the front office of her building and knocked on the door that said Security. She waited for a minute and then the door opened. She was looking down into the face of the oldest member of the security team, Bonnie Irving. She was probably pushing eighty and couldn’t take down a culprit if her life depended on it, but luckily she worked in the office and as monitor tech. They had younger, stronger guards to patrol and deal with unruly guests or tenants.

  “Hello, Miss Covey,” Bonnie smiled sweetly, her hazel eyes twinkled. Her gray hair was fixed neatly in a bun on top of her head and she looked professional in her black uniform. “What can I do for you today?”

  “I need to ask you a couple questions. Can I come in?” Veronica requested.

  Bonnie knew exactly what Veronica did for a living and the request made the older woman’s eyes widen with concern. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not necessarily, I just need your help,” Veronica clarified.

  “Sure, sure. Come on in, honey,” she insisted, holding the door open wide.

  Veronica walked in and looked around the corner in the room next to the main office area where the security camera monitors lined the wall.

  “What’s going on?” Bonnie asked.

  “Did you see anyone enter in through the stairwell around two or three a.m. last night?” Veronica asked.

  “I didn’t work last night, Miss Covey. Frank worked the nightshift. But we can check the monitors,” she said, making her way to the back room and sitting down in front of the screens. She worked the main computer to reset the time and find the frame Veronica desired.

  “Did something happen?” Bonnie asked with concern.

  “Just wondering. I thought I heard someone trying to break into my apartment last night.”

  Bonnie gasped and shook her head. “Let’s see here.” She worked the computer until she had three screens replaying the time Veronica indicated. One was the stairwell, the other was the front of the building and the last one was the hallway that led to Veronica’s apartment. Bonnie put the feed in fast-forward and Veronica watched closely as the time lapsed, but no one came or went. In fact, Veronica didn’t even see herself leave her apartment to go for her swim.

  When the time lapsed past four a.m., Veronica had Bonnie stop and replay the feed. She saw it the second time she watched it: there was a tiny glitch in the monitor and it was simultaneous in all three screens at the same exact time. The feed was put on a loop. There was no evidence of anything. Not even Veronica returning to her room after she was attacked.

  “Doesn’t look like it, honey,” Bonnie said with a sigh. “Guess you were just hearing things.”

  “Yeah.” Veronica let out a deep breath. “Guess so. Thanks anyway,” she said, smiling at Bonnie before leaving the office more frustrated that she was before she walked in.

  Who would have the ability to hack into her building’s security system and loop a feed to cover-up an attack? Someone powerful, she knew. Someone with friends in high places for sure. If she wasn’t so sure she was onto something, Veronica might have been sorry she messed with the senator.

  Chapter Eight

  Veronica stayed home for the next couple of days. Not because she was afraid of being attacked again, but more so she could heal a little and gather her thoughts. She was exhausted from the blood loss, she assumed, and she battled fatigue on and off.

  She ignored two more blocked calls each day and all her Google searches on barber shops in downtown were fruitless. After having a few quiet hours to think, she dressed inconspicuously in yoga pants and a baggy tee-shirt. She tucked her braid through the back of a baseball cap and with her gun tucked conveniently at the small of her back in her waistband, she headed out of the building to a local coffee shop just a couple of blocks away.

  She kept her eyes out for any suspicious behavior, but found none and when her order was ready at the counter she kept the barista’s attention for a second longer.

  “Can I use your phone? My battery just died and I don’t have my charger.” She smiled her most convincing smile and the young girl nodded, grabbing the cordless from behind the counter and handed it to her.

  “It’s local, right?” the girl asked.

  Veronica nodded, turning into an unoccupied corner and dialing a number from memory. When the voice on the other end answered, Veronica requested her desired party and was promptly put on hold and transferred. The phone rang twice to its extension before it was picked up.

  “Country Club, what can I do fo you?”

  “Elgie, it’s V.”

  “Twice in a week? You mus be chasin’ sumpin hot and heavy, girl.” He chuckled on the other end.

  “I am. But I’ve hit a wall. Thought I’d see if your street smarts might get me through.”

  “Oh, you know I gotcha back, V.”

  “What do you know about a barber?” Veronica heard laughter on the other end.

  “They cut hair,” he responded with another bout of laughter.

  Veronica rolled her eyes and glanced to see the barista eyeing her suspiciously. She ignored the girl and sighed. “Be serious, Elg. Does that name ring a bell?”

  There was a long stint of silence on the other end and finally Elgie said, “Dis ain’t nuttin we need to be talkin’ bout on a phone, V.”

  Her heart skipped a beat and she looked around the coffee house cautiously. “When?”

  “How bout neva?” His tone had lost its usually jubilance and he now sounded nervous.

  “I need to know, Elgie.”

  “No, you don’t. You need to quit playin’, girl. You gonna end up in a ditch.”

  The phone clicked with the sound of the other line disconnecting. Veronica actually drew the receiver back and stared at it for a moment in disbelief. Elgie had never refused to give her information before.

  Before she could think further into the topic, the phone rang causing Veronica to jump a little. She handed it to the barista to
answer and turned away with her coffee in hand.

  “Are you Veronica?” the young girl’s voice caused Veronica to stop in her tracks. She turned back to see the employee holding the phone out. “It’s for you.”

  The girl looked a little confused and maybe a little irritated. Veronica was elated. Elgie must have changed his mind, she thought at first and then she frowned. There was no way he’d know she called from a random number at a coffee shop, especially since they transferred the call from the Country Club office to the maintenance area.

  She swallowed hard and took the phone. “Yes?”

  “You’re a hard woman to get a hold of, Veronica,” Aniya said on the other end.

  Veronica’s eyes widened a trace and she sunk back into the empty corner, turning to scan the crowd and out the front windows for any signs of a woman on her cell phone. There weren’t many this time of day. Everyone was busy, rushing around and trying to get to work.

  “Only when I don’t want to talk,” Veronica countered.

  “We need to talk,” Aniya insisted. “It’s about the girl. She was one of ours.”

  Veronica wasn’t surprised. She’d seen the tattoo on the dead girl’s body at the station that confirmed this information. None of this was news to her. “I’m not one of yours anymore,” she reminded quietly. “How do you keep finding me? How do you know where I am right now?”

  Aniya laughed softly. “Veronica, dear. Once a Rogue, always a Rogue. Arc always has eyes on you.”

  “No,” Veronica breathed sternly and ignored the shiver that ran down her spine at hearing those words. She clicked the end button on the phone and laid it on the counter, making her exit fast enough that she couldn’t be flagged down to answer when Aniya called back. She shook her head, taking a swig of her coffee and wincing as it burned all the way down her throat.

  Memories of a past she thought she left behind started to creep back in her mind. Arc had been her boss once, but just like Aniya, Veronica had never seen his face. She had spoken to him several times, but his voice had always been disguised and he stayed in the shadows. Their last conversation wasn’t a pleasant one and hearing Aniya say his name caused a tidal wave of emotions to crash over Veronica.