“I’ve got skills,” Fritz said, rubbing his beard as she described the scene. “I do have skills.”
They then used Darcy’s scarf to tie him up and gagged him with Fritz’s sock.
“Knocked him right out again,” he laughed with glee.
Upon hearing the commotion and gunfire upstairs, they left him there and ran up, whereupon they ran smack into me.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, babe,” Michael kept saying, holding my hand. “I heard the gunfire and I thought Dirk and Savannah were too late.” He rubbed his face up and down, his eyes red from exhaustion. “It was like déjà vu,” he said, referring to a very similar incident last year. “Can we please never do that again?” I laughed and leaned forward, my forehead touching his.
“You got it, babe,” I whispered before planting a kiss firmly on his lips. “I promise.”
My dad was temporarily released from questioning several hours later but was going to be kept in FBI custody until everything could be sorted out. His old friend Tony’s ex-wife had been the mole all along, the one that compromised the mission from the beginning. Tony was the friend he was supposed to be meeting when he and my mom disappeared in the swamps of Louisiana. Now that the mole had safely been identified and dealt with, my dad’s trust in the FBI was reestablished. I still wasn’t feeling any warm fuzzies toward them, however.
Finally able to get some time with my dad without being under the threat of imminent death, he and I separated ourselves from the group so we could talk in private. I made sure that other people were still in sight, however, as I was half afraid he would take off, never to be seen again. Talk about trust issues.
We sat in the living room of the mansion, a huge room with comfortable, overstuffed, gray leather couches, a separate reading nook, and a smartly camouflaged television. We sat on opposite ends of the couch, and my dad began to tell me the story of the accident, how he and my mom had been run off the road by a large black Hummer. How he had to leave my mom’s body to climb to safety but eventually passed out. How, days later, he awoke on the swamp boat of a bayou family. He’d suffered a concussion, several broken ribs, and other internal injuries that led to severe infection. The family had come across him while trolling for gators, rescued him from the swamp, and nursed him back to health for six months. Luckily, he didn’t have any identification on him that linked him to the FBI, or they likely would have killed him on the spot. Swamp people don’t tend to like “Big Brother.”
Once he was healed enough to venture back to civilization, and, knowing there was a price on his head, he carefully reached out to some contacts he thought he could trust. Unfortunately, one of those contacts was Tony, whose ex-wife was still up to her old tricks, and informed Caty that he was still alive. Wisely not willing to stay in one place for any length of time, my dad flitted around the country, occasionally stopping in Texas to watch over me, and at other times, bouncing from one C-IZZY property to another, trying to track down the elder Izzy, not knowing he was already dead. One year later, he landed here.
I was still having a hard time reconciling what I’d heard. A week ago, I’d thought my dad—the completely innocuous, real estate entrepreneur—was dead. And now…this. How was this all going to work itself out? Would I even be able to see my now-alive dad? Or would he be locked up for falsifying his death and defecting from the FBI? Would he be punished or hailed a hero?
I looked over at Michael, who still sat in the kitchen shoveling food down his throat. From the look of things, I guessed he still had the munchies. Darcy sat across from him, head on the table, resting atop her folded arms. Her eyes were closed and I couldn’t tell whether or not she was truly asleep. Fritz had found the liquor cabinet and was enjoying three fingers of what I’m sure was top-of-the-line whiskey, as he leaned precariously back on the kitchen chair, threatening to topple over. After having been through so much together, where would we go from here?
●CHAPTER 33●
Three months later
DARCY HAD GOTTEN HER BREAKOUT STORY, which aired the very next morning and sent the ratings at KVKX through the roof. After receiving multiple offers from larger markets (sadly, none from CNN), she declined them all and instead chose to move to Dallas and work for Fritz as an investigative assistant. She said she may go for her PI license eventually, but wanted to spend some time enjoying working at a job that allowed her to eat whatever she wanted and not have weekly appointments with the dermatology and aesthetic center. She even convinced Fritz to rent out some private space for their offices so she wouldn’t have to listen to his “prehistoric music.” Fritz’s wife, Zoey, was very appreciative of this move, and eventually came back home.
Fritz had grumbled that it was like having two wives now, but I noticed he said it with a slight grin. I don’t think he minded too much. The last I heard, things were working out well, though Fritz was trying to convince Darcy and Zoey that they should all relocate to Colorado for the sake of his sciatica. Darcy told him to shut up, get off his ass, and go to physical therapy.
My dad was cleared of all federal criminal charges and relieved of his duties with the FBI after a thorough investigation and psychiatric analysis. The City of Elkston wasn’t so understanding, however, and charged him with destruction of property for the explosion, which had damaged nearby infrastructure. He pled no contest and was sentenced to community service. He now lives in a tiny cabin along the banks of the Big Thompson, which suits him just fine. I wish he were in California with us, but just knowing he was still alive and free to do as he pleases makes my heart happy.
Caty is currently awaiting trial for her crimes, which are too numerous to list. The Morales cartel was severely impacted first by Izzy’s murder, then by Caty’s arrest. The work my dad and Izzy had already begun to break up the cartel had been somewhat successful, but my dad still worried that rival cartels would just take up the slack. The war against drugs is never-ending.
I’m happy to say that Maria and Candy enjoyed their time in the Golden State so much that they decided to take up residence after we returned. Candy started working for me at the shop, while working towards her teaching certificate, and Maria has become a personal trainer at a local gym. They decided to become roommates and have a tiny apartment about ten minutes from us and only a couple of blocks from the beach.
Michael and I came back to California as soon as things were mostly settled regarding my dad. I am happily back at my little antique shop and doing what I can to rehab our new home. Michael, while busy juggling several construction projects, has put the renovation of our house into high gear, measuring, knocking down walls, and playing the part of the overprotective father-to-be. We’ll welcome a new bundle of joy just in time for summer. Fritz has already given himself the role of godfather. Heaven help us.
Life is good. Who knows where our next adventure will take us…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Maggie Aldrich is an avid reader, indie author, and yoga instructor who tends to catastrophize all situations.
"Good grief, you should become a writer, you're always making stuff up!" her family said. And so she did.
Maggie lives on an acreage in middle America with her husband, daughter, cats, and other various unattended wild animals.
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