Everywhere It's You

by C. B. Salem

  Kevin looked between his sister and Teddy, impassive. Finally, tiny smile cracked across his lips.

  “You might be right,” he said.

  Three impossibly loud knocks came from outside, crashing through the booming music like a trio of divers into a choppy pool. The world shifted. Then she was down, Kevin’s body between her and the front door. Her breath caught in her throat so that she couldn’t even scream.

  “Stay down!” Kevin boomed. He rose up into a crouch now with a pistol in both hands. His head snapped over toward the DJ. “Get that fucking music off!”

  The DJ quickly complied, and where there had been music a moment earlier there was now oppressive silence. Tables and chairs scraped belatedly on the floor. A few heartbeats passed. Kristina brought herself up to her knees and removed her shoes in case she would have to run. Her throat tightened.

  Tires squealed outside. Then more silence. She looked up at Teddy and saw he was petrified, glued to the spot with his hands over his head. A quick glance at the performers and patrons outside revealed they’d reacted in the same way.

  Kevin had his comm out and to his mouth. “Send an extra unit and have them scope out the back,” he commanded. “Yes, The Velvet. One from the back and one out front. I have no idea what’s out there. Surveying in five.”

  He tapped the device and put it back in his pocket before turning to Kristina. “I’m going out there to see what I can see. Someone might be hurt. You stay here.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she said.

  He shook his head. “You’re very likely to be a target.” He turned his attention over to Teddy, who was still planted where he stood. “You have any security here, Teddy?”

  “W-what? Like cameras? Sure.”

  “Cameras are good, but I meant manpower. Or at least guns.”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t really necessary during the day,” he said sheepishly. “Normal guy’s out right now because his wife had a surgery.”

  “I suppose that’s respectable enough,” Kristina muttered.

  “She got breast implants,” Teddy said.

  Kristina’s lips formed a thin line.

  “They met here,” he continued, by way of explanation.

  “Whatever,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “I’m going out there.”

  He stood up, and Kristina followed. Kevin looked back at her, then shook his head and kept walking forward. “Hang back until I give the go-ahead that the coast is clear,” he said. “My men will be here in a few minutes.”

  She obeyed and followed, past the stunned patrons and dancers, through the dimly lit hallway she had come through minutes earlier. Kevin checked his gun quickly and then eased out the door, his head on a swivel before he disappeared from the doorway. Kristina hung about ten feet back from the door, listening closely.

  A few minutes later, Kevin returned.

  “How many of the girls from last night do you think you could identify?” he asked.

  Her heart sank. Someone had been shot. She took a deep breath to steady herself before answering.

  “A few,” she said quietly.

  Kevin nodded.

  “Let me see her,” she said.

  With another grim nod, he bent over and lifted up the leg on his jeans, revealing a second gun holster. He removed the gun from its holster and offered it to her.

  “Just in case,” he said.

  She took it from him, flicked the safety off, and then followed him out.

  Even after only a few minutes in the strip club, the afternoon summer sun was nearly blinding, and it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust. When they did, she looked down at the body sprawled out on the sidewalk about ten yards away. She approached, her stomach churning.

  The woman had been gorgeous and, Kristina guessed, young. A couple years younger than herself, at least. Her bleached blonde hair was splayed out behind her and to one side. Dead, blue eyes stared upward from skin even paler than it had previously been, almost white, save for the three circles of red at her forehead, throat, and chest. Blood pooled around her, thick and gritty with the sidewalk. Soon it would be brown.

  Even without her pink wig and stage makeup, Kristina recognized her. This had been Ms. Pink. Rose, Teddy had said. She filled her lungs up as far as she could and exhaled slowly, gathering herself, before turning to her brother, who was looking out with Tatum’s eyes with an expression she had seen too often before on his own face.

  It wasn’t the first dead body she’d seen, but it was the first for a while.

  She nodded to her brother, fighting back a wave of nausea. He held her gaze for a moment before wiping his hands over his mouth and turning away.

  “It was a professional job,” he said. He began walking back toward the entrance. She hurried after. “Clean. She was definitely the target. We need to get Teddy to call the police.”

  She caught up and grabbed his arm. “You look relieved about this!” she said. “That girl’s dead, Kevin.”

  He stopped and turned to her. “They weren’t here for you. That’s a relief.”

  “But she’s dead,” she said. Her hands felt clammy, her lungs tight in her chest.

  “They came to get her. Not you. There’s nothing I could have done for her.”

  He came to the door and opened it wide, stepping aside for her to come in. She followed after, still steaming. Even if her brother was right, his ability to look coldly on death was disconcerting. She would never get used to it.

  Back through the dimly lit hallway and then there was Teddy, wringing his hands. “What happened?” he asked. He locked eyes with her and grimaced.

  Kevin took a deep breath. “Someone was shot. Kris says it was the girl from last night. Rose.”

  Teddy’s face fell without a word. He turned away.

  Kevin licked his lips and stepped toward him. “You need to call the police, Ted. Kris and I are going to be out of here in a minute. With those shots they might already be on their way.”

  Teddy continued to look down at his shoes for a few moments before his face started twisting into an ugly rage.

  “I’m sorry,” Kristina said shakily, trying to head it off.

  He began to shake and then jabbed his finger in Kristina’s direction. “You did this to her!” he cried. “You killed her. That girl was as sweet as they come! How could you do this to her? These are human beings! I should have never let you come here last night.”

  “I know,” she said, not rising to the bait. Kevin inserted his body between them.

  “We’re leaving,” he said, he put his hand on his sister’s shoulder and turned to go. “I’m sorry about your loss, Ted. But this had nothing to do with us. I’ll be in touch later.”

  With that, he strode for the front door. Kristina again followed quickly behind. Kevin was right. This had nothing to do with him. But she wasn’t so sure about herself. Someone had died in a situation that involved her in a way she didn’t understand.

  She needed to understand fast before she became next.

  CHAPTER NINE

  They walked back out into the harsh sunlight and were met by two men who she assumed were Kevin’s employees. They were dressed in the same uniform he wore—red long-sleeve shirt over bulky, muscular torsos, dark jeans—and each was carrying a gun at his hip. With their upright posture and her hallucinations, they looked more like Tatum clones than anything else she’d seen that day.

  “All clear?” Kevin asked.

  The man on the right nodded. “We have backup coming in. This block is clear.”

  Kevin turned to his sister. “Kris, what’s your plan for the rest of the day? I’m sending these two with you for protection.”

  She looked between her brother and the two men nervously and swallowed a lump in her throat. “Kevin, what’s going on?” she asked. “You’ve been pretty vague.”

  His face hardened. “Intel coming through the vine. Your name’s out there on the dark net. Intercepted communications. Something that’s
come up through regular monitoring. I don’t know what it is, yet, but I don’t like it. Worried about kidnapping or worse. I don’t think your assignment is as much a secret as you do.”

  A shiver went down her spine. “Who are you worried is after me?” she asked shakily.

  “I don’t know who it is, so I’m worried about everyone. Especially anything I can see that has a connection to your assignment.”

  She noted how he was refusing to say Tatum’s name, even in front of his own men. He was definitely on high alert.

  “Did you get anything on that brunette?”

  He shook his head. “She’s a ghost. Teddy didn’t have shit. Likely she snuck in, or he’s lying. My bet’s the former.”

  She sighed, trying like hell to stay on top of her fear. So much for that lead for now. “Okay, well, I think I’m going to head back to the office to continue working on my assignment. Get through some communication logs. Not sure what I will be doing after that.”

  “Got it,” Kevin said. He turned to his men. “You two, set up a perimeter around her building. Monitor anyone going in or coming out. Call in backup at the first sign of anything unusual.”

  Kristina watched on, her stomach churning. This was all actually happening. It had been a long time since she’d seen a dead body. Not so long since she’d feared for her life, but never from something as unknown as this.

  Her brother put his hand on her shoulder. “These guys will give you a ride back to the office. I set up a hotlink between your comms, and that will patch through to me. Do not leave that building without letting me know.”

  “Kevin,” she said, straightening up. “I’m not an idiot. I understand the situation.”

  He laughed, a big, unexpected laugh that unnerved her. “Of course. Stay safe. I’m going to go make some more inquiries and see if I can figure out what the hell is going on.”

  ***

  The ride back to the office with Kevin’s employees was uneventful. Kristina didn’t even bother to ask their names, knowing she would likely get fakes anyway. Besides, all of Kevin’s men looked just about identical with Agent Smith, with their haircuts, outfits, and upright postures. Their commander would be proud.

  At this point all her focus was on trying to calm down. Whenever she managed to get herself a glass of wine, it would be none too soon. She needed it. Wished she could take some soothers to zone out on top of it, just a bit. But it was going to be a while before she got that kind of break.

  Her mind returned to her present task. Why had Ms. Pink—or rather, Rose—died? Had she been taken out by the same people who had taken Tatum, or at least made him go into hiding? And were they coming after her next?

  Those questions were still running through her head when she got off the elevator at the Dunn-Brantley Building and made her way to her office. The halls were just as she’d left them, buzzing with quiet energy and shuffling steps under the ubiquitous fluorescent lights and sterile, modern office furniture. As she approached her door she saw a man get up from the reception area. He had Tatum’s dark eyes opened wide. She remembered the charcoal suit from earlier. Unless she was mistaken, this was Ryan the administrative assistant.

  “Kristina!” he said in a rush. “There’s someone here for you.”

  She came to a stop in front of him and closed her eyes for a second, wishing she could start digging into Tatum’s communications from the relative sanity of her office.

  She opened her eyes. “Did you ask for a name?” she asked, in a tone that she hoped didn’t betray her irritation.

  “I think she said she’s with the FBI,” Ryan said under his breath.

  Kristina’s spine went straight and tingles ran down. What the hell did the FBI want with her? Was it all related?

  As she tried to come up with a plan and compose herself, a woman stood up from the waiting area by Ryan’s desk and approached them. She was tall—at least six feet—and model slim, with wavy brown hair and cheekbones that looked vaguely Slavic. Kristina had just seen her the previous night. That was the woman who had been hanging on Fordelli.

  “Hello, Ms. Andersen,” the woman said. Her blue eyes focused in on Kristina’s.

  Ryan put himself flat against the wall, obviously intimidated by the FBI agent’s presence. She reached into her pocket and showed Kristina her identification. “I’m Special Agent Rachel Carter. Do you have a moment?”

  Kristina took a quick breath to steady herself and then gave the agent her best smile. “Of course. Would you like to speak in my office?”

  Agent Carter put her identification away. “That would be perfect.”

  Without further word, Kristina led the agent to her door. She tried the handle: still locked. Satisfied, she dug through the pocket of her slacks and pulled out the key.

  “You’re very careful,” Agent Carter commented, watching her.

  Kristina inserted the key into the lock and turned it open. “Old habit from having two brothers,” she said. “Wouldn’t want my journal read, right?”

  Agent Carter smiled politely but said nothing.

  They walked in. Kristina made a beeline for her safe, wanting to unload the safety deposit key and communications instructions. “Have a seat,” she said over her shoulder, motioning to the lone guest chair she had against the wall. “I just need to put a few things away.”

  “I see you keep a very clean office,” the special agent said, taking a seat. “Impressive.”

  Kristina smiled nervously as she did the combination on her safe. “You know what they say, cluttered spaces make cluttered minds.”

  “Of course,” the agent said.

  Kristina finished the combination to her safe, feeling the clicks of the mechanical machine in her fingers, and popped it open. The gray metal shelf inside was empty.

  Empty.

  The envelope she had put there hours earlier was missing.

  She took a step back, her heart racing. What the hell had happened? Her door was locked. Nobody else knew anything was there. How could it be gone?

  Agent Carter cleared her throat. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You look preoccupied with something.”

  Kristina froze. No, everything was not okay, but she could not let this stranger know that or else she would start asking questions. She shook her head hard, trying to get the cobwebs out, then put the safety deposit key and communication instructions into the box. After shutting it quickly she turned to her guest.

  “Just a case,” she said quickly. She walked back to her office chair and sat down. “So how can I help you, Agent Carter?”

  “I have a few questions about your operations in the last twenty-four hours.”

  Kristina took a short breath. “I’m sorry?”

  “You recognize me.” She folder her hands in her lap. “Correct, Ms. Andersen?”

  Kristina took a deep breath. Agent Carter clearly recognized her, wig and makeup be damned. Or else, she had another way of knowing. “Yes,” she said, trying to project confidence. “You were at the party last night at The Velvet.”

  “As were you.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “What was the nature of work your work at that party, Ms. Andersen?”

  Kristina narrowed her eyes and stared into Carter’s icy blue eyes. “What was yours?”

  “As I’m working with the Federal Bureau of Investigations, I don’t have to divulge that information. But I might, if you give me your answer first. Otherwise we can go through the whole charade with warrants and court orders. Just trust me, if you want to go down that route, I’m going to be very pissed off.”

  Kristina smiled to herself and shook her head. “Whatever you say.” She paused. “I was at The Velvet last night doing a routine surveillance operation on Fredo Fordelli as part of my work on a case here at Dunn-Brantley. The nature of that case is, of course, protected by attorney confidentiality, so I’m afraid I would have to make you go through the whole warrant charade for that information.” She flexed her ha
nd into a fist and then let it relax again. “As a side note, my operations were somewhat hindered by you hanging all over him for the duration of the event. Of course, I have no inkling as to the reason for your doing that.”

  She smiled sweetly for Agent Carter, who did not return the gesture. “Of course, and you’re not going to. Was Mr. Fordelli all you had your eye on last night, Ms. Andersen?”

  Kristina shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean, did anything else catch your attention last night? Any other people of interest?”

  “There were a lot of people attending the event, Agent Carter.”

  “Of course. But surely, someone else in attendance must have piqued your interest beyond Mr. Fordelli. A large client of the firm, perhaps.”

  Kristina licked her lips, trying to understand what Agent Carter was getting at. How much did she know? “You must be referring to Mr. Tatum.”

  Agent Carter nodded. “I am.”

  “I did notice he was there, yes.”

  “But it didn’t concern you?”

  “Mr. Tatum has not, to my knowledge, talked with the firm about what he was doing at that party last night, and I was under no instruction to perform any kind of surveillance on one of our own clients.”

  “Well, I was.”

  A tingle rippled up the back of Kristina’s neck. “Excuse me?”

  “Your client is under investigation by the Federal Bureau of Investigations, Ms. Andersen. You were curious as to what I was doing at that birthday party. I have just told you.”

  Kristina’s heart pounded and she shook her head. “Has Mr. Tatum been notified of this investigation?”

  “He has not,” Agent Carter said. A small smile played on her lips. “In fact, we have had a very hard time contacting Mr. Tatum today. Would you know anything about that?”

  Kristina steeled herself and looked the agent right in the eye, studying its green hue. “No, I do not. Have you notified the firm about your issues?”

  Agent Carter held her gaze. Kristina’s heart thumped in her chest like she was being punched from inside. The agent’s lips parted. “No. You will probably want to do that, of course.”