The Chauffeur

  My dad’s dealing with her himself. Killing her is too light a sentence as far as I’m concerned. I want her to suffer.

  Once Farmer pulls the car onto the highway, I phone my father to give him an update on the meeting. He isn’t as shocked as I was when I heard the definitive results of the investigation.

  “Your mother and I will be home in two days. We need to talk when we get back,” my father says with an odd sound in his voice.

  “I’ll be here,” I reply.

  After we hang up, Farmer drops me off at my office, and I head straight to April and find her working on my mother’s grant application.

  “Hey, baby,” I say, pulling her to me, wanting to feel her in my arms.

  “I missed you.” She lifts her mouth to me where I place a gentle kiss upon them.

  “So?” she asks, taking me by the hand to a seat where she then snuggles into my lap.

  “It’s as we thought. Sabotage. Someone cut into the fuel gasket, which ultimately leaked enough to blow it up.”

  “Oh, god.”

  “My parents arrive home in two days. Dad has something to tell us that he couldn’t say over the phone. I hate this waiting game.”

  “So, what does all this mean for MileHigh?” she asks, curious.

  “We’re grounded until further notice. After this is over, I plan to hold a press conference. I want people to know that it wasn’t an in-house issue and that it was sabotage from someone on the outside.”

  I wrap my arms snuggly around her and tug the hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her to look up at me. I bring her mouth to mine, running my tongue over her full, sweet lips. I take a deep breath when her fingers weave through my hair as she encases my head in her arms. How quickly she can make me want her so badly! I grin against her lips and tease her by pulling away. When she giggles and pulls me by the ears until our lips are pressed together again, I know we’ve gone past teasing to wanting.

  Then there’s a knock on the door and Kyle enters April’s office unannounced.

  “Jason, I have the results of the polygraph tests at MileHigh as well as the backgrounds and photos of all the employees there. Everyone is accounted for except one man: Joe Smith. He quit the day of the test, and he hasn’t been back since.”

  I shift April off my painful erection to focus on what Kyle has to say.

  “Joe Smith?” I ask, amused. “How original.”

  “Yeah, I thought the same thing,” Kyle smirks as he pulls the folders out that he has tucked under his arm.

  “April, would you go through these and see if the man you recognized is in here?” he asks, placing the files on the table in front of her. She begins opening each file, and one by one, as quickly as she opens them, she closes them placing them in a separate pile.

  “Here. He’s the one that quit, isn’t he?” she asks, her face snapping in my direction. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”

  “Possibly. What do you remember about him?” I ask, taking a pen and paper, writing down her answers.

  “He was big and tall. About thirty-ish. Attractive, and had long black hair and dark skin. Like an American Indian.” She sits back with a pensive look.

  I look at her and Kyle then hand April her cell phone and ask her to call Sam.

  She takes the phone from me, pulls his name up on her speed dial, and turns the speaker phone on.

  “Hey, beautiful. To what do I owe this rare occurrence?” Sam asks, jovially.

  “Hi, Sam. Hey, you’re on speaker with Jason and Kyle,” she informs him.

  “Hi, guys. Is my girl there too?”

  “No, not this time,” I say before getting down to business.

  “Sam, do you remember telling us about that guy that came to Kate’s place while you were there with her? You said it was the same man in the video?”

  “Yeah, I remember. What’s going on?”

  “Was he an American Indian?” April asks.

  “Yes, he could have been, how did you know?”

  I’m rather pissed off that Sam didn’t divulge that information when we showed him the video of this character.

  ~.~

  Once my mother and father arrive home that evening, Dad immediately calls a family meeting to get a task status and to make his announcement.

  “Nicole, you said in your email that you came upon a road block?”

  “Yes, Daddy. I’ve traced Carolyn L. Good up to 1997, but she disappears after that—at least on paper. Before her disappearance, though, she owned several pieces of property, which she bought, renovated, and apparently sold at a profit. In 1997, she ran into some legal issues with the feds and suddenly disappeared from the radar. She hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Either she died or reinvented herself. However, her name has suddenly appeared again, but she’s so well hidden that even Sector can’t find her.”

  “Good work, Nicole,” my father says. “I’ll use my contacts to see what I can come up with. Kyle, what do you have?”

  “I traced Kathryn across several European countries. Within the first eight months of this year, she went to Italy, then to France, and then on to Egypt,” he says, shuffling the papers in a file in front of him. “But there’s been no travel activity since. I have a list of the addresses she visited in those countries. Nothing sinister or glaring, but she has had contact with some individuals connected to the cartel. Her sporadic travel is clearly a ruse to hide her real activity. A few of the addresses are private residences, and a few are business addresses. I’ve emailed you a spreadsheet outlining her travel dates, mode of transportation, and whom she visited at various locations.”

  “Good job, Son. I’ll meet with you later to go over those in more detail.”

  “April? Are you doing okay?” he asks.

  “Yes. I’m doing well, thank you. Jason is trying hard not to be too protective, while still making sure I’m safe.”

  “Good,” my father says. “Grace, why don’t you and April get us some of that pie Rita made today?”

  “Come on, April. Wait until you taste this pie. You’re going to love it.” My mother pushes her chair away from the table and waits for April. When I look up at her, I can tell that she suspects what’s happening; that my father has something he doesn’t want her to know. Once they leave the dining room, he begins his update.

  “Okay.” He stands and begins to pace the length of the table. “I’ve taken that evil bitch’s mother and put her under lock and key at Sector.”

  Sector’s sanctuary is a series of rooms constructed deep into the side of a hill. The only entrance is through a steel bulkhead door that, once opened, permits access by vehicle through an adjoining underground tunnel. Once you’re inside, it’s rather sterile and void of amenities. It’s designed exactly for its present purpose. The facility has a large functioning kitchen for staff use. The interrogation room is sparse of furniture except for a table, four chairs, and a cot. The holding tanks are like prison cells and very cold.

  “This happened yesterday, so Jason, I’m sure you will hear from Kathryn very soon.”

  “Did you have to do that, Carl?” I shout, jumping from my seat. “I mean was it necessary to open a new can of worms? What if she retaliates and pushes even harder?” I say, concerned more for April.

  “I have Kathryn’s car bugged, and hopefully she’ll lead us directly to the cartel. No harm will come to her mother, unless of course, Kate does retaliate. Her mother is safe and is being well cared for. Not as good as the care that Roger received, but if push comes to shove, I won’t hesitate. I want Kate to know that what she did is unconscionable. I want you to hint that it was you that took her mother.”

  “How do I do that?” I ask, trying to devise a plan.

  “Ask her how her mother is. That will put her into action and shit will hit the fan then. Just be on guard. I have her under surveillance.” He stops in front of me to get my wandering attention. He knows that my mind is searching for the possible repercussions of his action.

&nbs
p; “I know you want to protect April, but you can’t do your job and watch her effectively and efficiently. I have both of you under surveillance as well, so if anything were to happen, you'd be protected.”

  “I know, Dad, but this is getting out of control. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her.” Something dire could happen to her, and I’m inwardly glad that my father sees that.

  “What happens next?” Kyle asks, curious.

  “We need to find out who she’s working with or for. She has accomplices, and they need to be eradicated,” he replies, looking from Kyle to me.

  “I think April may have identified one for us.” I fill him in on the MileHigh employee and the correlation between him, the man at Kate’s condo that Sam identified, and the man in the video. “We have a picture of him now. Kyle, do you have it with you?”

  “I do,” he says, handing the picture to my father. I watch as he examines the face.

  “What have you found on him?” he asks.

  “Nothing yet. We just identified him yesterday as Joe Smith, which, of course, is an alias. The information he filled out on his application was also false. There’s nothing to trace. He quit the day of the polygraph examinations and disappeared,” Kyle says.

  “Okay, keep on it, on. Good job.”

  “Nicole, I want you to take all the properties listed under Carolyn L. Good’s name and run a complete history on them. I want to know about anyone and everyone that’s in the file. If you have to do a rundown on tenants, as well as new property owners, do that too. This is top priority. We need to act fast.”

  “Okay, Daddy. I’ll have that to you as soon as I can,” she says, gathering her papers.

  “What about April?” I ask.

  “Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll have Grace continue to give her tasks to keep her occupied, so she doesn’t get bored and start to wander. It would be a good idea if you found things for her to do as well. I don’t see her sitting around twiddling her thumbs.” I chuckle at that because he’s right. April isn’t one to sit idle.

  “Here we are,” Mom announces before they enter, each of them, carrying a tray, and in an instant, we’re back in family mode, all Sector business aside.

  “April, dear,” Mom begins. “When do your classes start at the community center?”

  “I start on August sixth.” She takes a bite of her rhubarb pie.

  “Well,” my mom says hesitantly, looking at me then at Dad, and then back at April.

  “What is it, Grace?” April presses.

  “Don’t get angry, but Carl and I are on the Board of Trustees at Northwestern, and there’s a vacancy in the English Department of American Literature. We recommended you and the Faculty Committee would like to talk to you.” Her face is ashen, and I can’t tell if she’s angry or flummoxed.

  “You don’t have to talk to them. We weren’t sure if you would want to teach at the university level or stay teaching at the community center,” my father explains. “But, since you teach there on the weekends, you could still do that as well. It’s up to you.”

  “But I only have a Masters,” April states.

  Everyone around the room laughs at that.

  “Only a Masters?” my mother chides. “A Masters will suffice at Northwestern, dear.”

  “Are you serious?” she blurts out with enthusiasm, unable to believe her good fortune. “Of course, I want to speak to them! It’s what I went to school for!” I watch as April’s eyes pool and she covers her mouth with her hands. I know she’s going to break down. I pull her into my arms and onto my lap.

  “You will make a beautiful professor, baby,” I say into her ear.

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow. They want you to call them tomorrow to set up the meeting,” Mom says.

  “Thank you. Thank you, so much, Grace … Carl,” she says, her tears flowing now.

  “Don’t thank us yet. But you can take us to dinner with your first paycheck, how’s that?” Carl suggests.

  “It’s a date!”

  “Wow, April. Northwestern American Literature Professor. Impressive!” Kyle says, getting up to hug my girl.

  “Wait! I don’t have it yet, so don’t jinx it, all right?” she says, holding her hand up to silence my brother.

  “April, you don’t know how this works, do you?” Nicole adds. “If my parents got you the meeting, you might as well consider the spot yours.”

  I look at April’s eyes as they brighten and widen as she looks around the table as everyone nods their heads affirming what my sister has just said.

  “Professor Sanders,” I say, looking at April’s scornful brow. “What? I’m just trying it out.”

  ~.~

  That day, April calls Northwestern and arranges to meet with the Faculty Committee. I promised that I would drive her, and Eric, her assigned guard, will watch over her, blending in with the activity on the campus. We don’t want her to know about him yet, so he remains stealthy.

  I thought this meeting would last at least an hour, but after two hours and two large cups of coffee, I go inside to use their facilities. Of course, when I return, April would be outside looking for me.

  “Dammit, April, you’re not supposed to be wandering around out here alone and unescorted. Fuck,” I whisper-shout. I take her by the arm and guide her to the car, only to see her guard sitting, nonchalantly, on a bench under a shady tree. When I make eye contact with him, he gives me a thumbs up and heads off in the opposite direction. After I get inside the car, I sit and just stare out the window.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just that you were out there alone and vulnerable. When you didn’t see me inside the car, you should have immediately turned around to go back inside,” I say, taking her hand.

  “I’m sorry. I was only there for a moment, and as soon as I saw you weren’t in the car, I only had time to look to my left and then to my right to find you when you came up behind me,” she explains. “Perhaps we need to work out a few kinks for future outings, eh?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” I let out a huge sigh. After inserting the key into the ignition, I’m about to pull away from the curb when we both hear a woman shouting and running down the sidewalk.

  “Professor Sanders … Professor Sanders, you left your glasses!”

  “Professor Sanders?” I whisper, grasping her hand tightly in mine.

  She looks at me and, with a shy smile, nods. “I got the job!”

  Chapter 21

  ~April~

  My feet search the bed for Jason without success, and I quickly roll over to find his side empty.

  I lie back and listen for sounds of movement in the apartment but hear nothing. Feeling the need for more sleep, I close my eyes again and consider how my life has changed. I got an incredible job working for one of the most powerful families in Chicago. My life is threatened. I fell in love. My boss is a spy. A good friend is killed. I get a job teaching at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, and all this in just a few short months. Throwing my arm over my eyes, I shake my head in amazement. These aren’t just small changes—they’re monumental events. Life altering, in fact. With that in mind, I roll over and grab my cell from the nightstand.

  “Hello,” he answers.

  “Hi, Dad. How are you? It’s been a while, huh?” I ask, trying to sound jovial.

  “April, it’s about time! I was ready to send a search party. Your mother was juggling for plane tickets.”

  “Juggling?”

  “You know—looking on the internet.”

  “Dad, do you mean Googling?” I ask cheerfully.

  “Whatever. She was about to fly us out there,” he says, exasperated.

  “Sorry, Dad. I’ve just been so busy that I barely have time for myself anymore. But I do have some news that I think you will like,” I say, sitting up in bed, excited to share.

  “What is it, honey? Should I get your mother? Let me get your mother. Maria!” he yells in my ear. I jerk
the phone away, but the pain has already been inflicted.

  “Okay, go ahead, April. You’re on speaker,” he says.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say first, before giving them my news.

  “Hey, baby. You need to start calling more often.”

  “Yeah, I know. I already got the lecture from Dad. But, I have some news—”

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?” my father asks, interrupting my surprise.

  “Dad! No!” It’s my turn to yell. “If you will just wait, I’ll tell you.”

  “Go ahead, honey,” Mom says, “Thomas, just be quiet for five minutes, would you?”

  “Sorry, April. What is it?”

  “Well, I got another job,” I begin.

  “But you just got one. What happened?” my father asks.

  “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Rowe recommended me to the Board of Trustees at Northwestern in the English Department as Professor of American Literature, and well, I got it. I start teaching this fall!” I shout exuberantly, bouncing on the bed as I say it.

  “Oh, April, that’s wonderful, dear! We’re so happy for you and excited that you’re finally using that degree you worked so hard for,” Mom says through her tears.

  “I’m very proud of you, hon,” Dad says. “Do we get to see you before classes start?”

  “I’m trying to work that out now. Let me get back to you. I’m trying to arrange a visit before they start, and if not, I’ll come for Christmas for sure. Does that sound all right?”

  “Sounds wonderful, darling. I’m so proud of you. Now I can say my daughter is a Professor at Northwestern. That has such a snobby ring to it,” my mom says, causing all three of us to laugh and that’s when Jason walks into the room, his hands carrying a breakfast tray.

  “Okay, let me work it out, and I’ll call you as soon as I can, all right?”

  “Okay, honey,” my father says.

  “Congratulations, April,” Mom adds.

  “Thanks, I’ll call you as soon as I find out. I love you both. Bye.”