Special Agent Maximilian

by Mimi Barbour

  Christ, if only he could beat this PTSD crap and get on with his life. Since he’d been on leave and left the Navy Seals in Iraq four months ago, he’d drifted, never feeling at peace, never knowing who he was and what he wanted. Traveling had seemed to be the answer. He’d started on the East coast, heading west until he’d stopped in New Orleans, a city that had grabbed hold and, for some strange reason, couldn’t be shaken loose.

  Then he’d run into his twin brother.

  What a hell of a shocker that was. Imagine being in a Starbucks, and having the replica of yourself ask if you were in line or just checking the menu. The disbelief still rippled through his body at the memory. Both men had been stunned.

  “Holy shit, you look like me.” Max had started the conversation.

  “Nope! You mean—you look like me.” Nik couldn’t resist the jibe and stiffened when he saw his lookalike’s sly grin and nod. He’d seen that same expression many times from his old man, usually before his fist flew.

  “Have it your way, bro. But the resemblance is so strong, we could be twins.”

  Interrupted by the barista, they each ordered the same drink—the Red Eye—and moved to the side to pick them up. While waiting, both examined the other until Max spoke. “It’s creepy in a way, seeing your double. I mean I’ve heard of this sort of thing happening, but I never thought it would to me.”

  Nik took in Max’s FBI badge and his fancy duds and two seconds later he’d made up his mind. “Do you have a few minutes? I think we need to talk.”

  Max’s eyebrows rose at the tone and his grin slipped. Then he shrugged. “Yeah! Sure. Wanna stay here?”

  “It’s as good a place as any.” Nik picked up the first cup and handed it to Max, and then retrieved his own. He led them to a seat at the back of the restaurant.

  Once Max had removed his suit jacket and placed it, folded neatly, on the empty chair, he pulled up his sleek pants, to accommodate him sitting, and leaned back confidently. “So… what’s your name?”

  “Nik Baudin. Yours?”

  “Max Baudin Foster.”

  “Holy shit!” Shock washed over Nik, leaving him weak-kneed and dumbfounded. His ol’ man had mumbled through his drunken fits about another son, but Nik had put it down to the ramblings of an intoxicated idiot. After seeing Max at the counter and gauging how alike they were, he’d just had to know for sure. Now he did. The rioting going on inside his stomach didn’t bode well for him getting much sleep that night.

  Max’s features had solidified, and Nik watched as a myriad of emotions fought for control. “Holy shit is right! We must be brothers.” He pulled out his phone and pushing one button, he arrogantly held up his finger to stop Nik from talking and waited.

  Since Nik had nothing to say, he took a gulp from his favorite coffee instead and felt as if he’d choke. Pushing the cup away, a sour thought attacked. Dammit, I’d been looking forward to that drink!

  Surreptitiously, leaning over the table with his elbows on the chair arms, he intertwined his fingers using them to ram his stomach where vicious stabs of fire attacked. The forgotten lower back cramps returned with a vengeance. Using the techniques he’d learned from an old girlfriend who was a yoga instructor, he stretched slowly, inconspicuously, and exhaled; forcing his stomach muscles in, and then took a huge breath, filling his lungs. A few of these miraculous movements and peace returned to the irritated region. At least he didn’t feel as if his next move would be with his head in a toilet.

  Without being able to stop himself, he explored the features of his lookalike and thought that it was rather a miracle. True, his brother’s shorter hair was slicked up in a style that the suits wore today, with the front shoved ridiculously high, as if any normal guy would want to look like he’d had a shock and his hair had gotten the worst of it. Pathetic! On the other hand, Max’s suit looked as if it had been made just for him: silky gray, slick, in a modern fashion, and fitting perfectly.

  What got Nik the most was the blue tie Max was viciously loosening that matched the exact color of his eyes. For the first time Nik understood why women went so goofy over his own. They were mesmerizing; the depth of the blue surrounded by the black limbal ring around the iris drew you in and made it almost impossible to look away.

  Max’s voice broke into his thoughts and one word blew his mind.

  “Mom? We need to talk. Are you at home? I have someone here you should meet.” Max’s face hardened. “You don’t need your hair done. You keep putting that all that spray on and it’ll start falling out and you’ll go bald. I’ll be there shortly. And get prepared for a shock.” Max hung up the phone and stared at Nik. “You coming?” As if he were used to being in charge, he stood and grabbed his suit jacket viciously. Then he walked out as if he had no doubt whatsoever that his new-found brother would obey.

  Mom?

  Stunned by being treated so callously, so unlike the way he’d ever allowed anyone to treat him, Nik stood and followed. How could he not? Mom! For the first time in his life, he was going to meet his mother. The woman about whom his father had told him lies. “The bitch is dead and good riddance,” covered it about right.

  Chapter 4

  Following Max to his silver Lexus CT, a showy vehicle which didn’t surprise Nik whatsoever, he got into the passenger seat and sat quietly, waiting for his brother to start a conversation.

  “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

  “Could say the same for you. We’ve been driving ten minutes and you haven’t said a word.”

  “I’ve been thinking about all the lies Mom has told me over the years. When I was a little boy, I wanted a brother because all the other kids had them. She said she couldn’t give me any brothers, and that there would always just be the two of us. It made her sad so I stopped asking.”

  “Did she ever remarry? I know her and the old man were married because I found a wedding picture. When I showed it to him, he ripped it up and said that she’d died.” Nik didn’t use the exact words that had been used, but he remembered how they’d made him feel. Hopeless!

  Max’s head swiveled to Nik. “Hell, why would he lie to you and tear up a photo of her?”

  Nik angled his head sideways and stared at Max. “You’re asking me about him? Hell, bro, they both lied. I guess she left him and I can’t say I blame her. He was a mean son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Was?”

  “Yeah. He was killed in a bar fight while I was on my last deployment. The way the boozer carried on, I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. I’d escaped the asshole at sixteen and hoped never to hear from him again. As his next of kin, they contacted me when I was overseas to inform me of his death, and about where to pick up his remains. Far as I’m concerned, they can keep him.”

  “I’d like to have known him. I always wanted to have a dad.”

  “No. You wouldn’t. He wasn’t a dad. He was a mean prick who liked nothing better than to see people squirm.”

  “Still, she left him and I never got to meet him at all.”

  Christ, man, you don’t know how lucky you were. Before he could stop the words from escaping, Nik admitted, “You know it sounds weird, but there was always something missing. I’d find myself looking around at everyone…. Shit! I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

  Max was listening. His head was cocked toward Nik in a familiar way that Nik recognized. He did the same thing himself when he concentrated on another person. But it seemed strange to see his lookalike using the identical mannerism.

  “I know what you mean. As a young boy, I had dreams that there were two of me. I’d wake up crying and when I finally told my mom about them, she had a nervous breakdown. Cried for days. Scared the hell out of me. I never mentioned them again. They lasted until I started high school, and then they stopped.”

  Max pulled into the driveway of a lovely historic-styled home in the French Quarter that screwed with the tempo of Nik’s heart. He recognized the place. This is the house in my dreams. It was a
magnificent Victorian on Esplanade Avenue, with fancy arches and a black wrought-iron balcony running across the front on the upper floor. Baskets of flowering plants were scattered everywhere and added a nice touch.

  To Nik, it looked like a palace. Compared to the dumps he’d lived in as a boy, it was paradise. “This is where your mom… our mom lives?”

  “She inherited it from the aunt we moved in with. The old battle-axe let us live with her as long as Mom nursed her. Aunt Vi was a widow and had cancer. This house belonged to Vi’s husband’s family, but they’ve died out now. The only people she could leave it to were Mom and me. It probably killed her to do so—the old witch was a cheapskate—but she loved the house too much to see it go into a stranger’s hands. Thank God.”

  Max got out of the car and started toward the back of the house, taking for granted that Nik would follow. He did, his eyes spellbound by the splendor of a house that he’d fallen in love with the first time he’d dreamed about it. As a boy, the only joy he’d ever felt was at night while fast asleep, dreaming of this house. It had been vague, true. But he’d recognized it instantly.

  Inside, Max led him down a hallway full of antiques, the hardwood gleaming, and into a small sitting room. There sat a woman waiting, her back toward them. When she heard them enter, she turned and screamed.

  Then she fainted.

  Chapter 5

  “Christ, it’s just like her to pull a stunt like this.” Furious, Max moved forward to haul his mother up off the floor. Before he could start to lift her, Nik’s arms had scooped her close and he gently lowered her to the sofa. He unbuttoned her tight collar. “Get some water for her; she’ll want some when she comes to.”

  Max hesitated, anger still coloring his expression, but he did as Nik ordered.

  Within a few minutes, the woman’s eyelids fluttered and her trembling hand reached toward her throat. Nik took the water from Max. “What’s her name?”

  “Mom.”

  “Don’t be a smartass.” Nik couldn’t believe that Max would make jokes at a time like this. Their mother lay on the couch, having had the shock of her life, and Max seemed to think it was amusing.

  “Look, her name is Nellie and she pulls these faints whenever she has to deal with a crisis. It’s her way. She always comes out of them in the end. When I was a boy, they used to terrify me. Now—not so much.”

  The faint moan caught both men’s attentions. What finished them was the wail of pain that followed. It made the hairs on the back of Nik’s head stand straight up, and he felt his skin pebble up his arms and around his back. Shivers attacked, leaving him extremely uncomfortable. He’d rather face a platoon of snipers than this one tiny woman.

  “Max?”

  “I’m here, Mom.”

  “Who’s with you?” Nellie’s eyes were scrunched closed. It was almost comical.

  “My brother, Nik Baudin.”

  “I thought you were going to say that. Is he still here?”

  “Yes, Mom. He’s holding your hand.”

  With her eyes closed, Nellie moved her other hand over Nik’s and grasped tightly. “My Nik. My own baby boy. I never dreamed this day would come. Or that you were alive.”

  Nik swallowed the lump that was choking him. “The Bastard told me you were dead. I never knew I was a twin, or that you were alive. If I had known, I would have come to find you.”

  Her eyes opened slowly. She stared at him, searching each feature. He returned her gaze, getting lost in the blue depths of her still gorgeous eyes. Sparkling from tears, they glowed, the light of love blazing at him so strongly it stunned him, weakened him—made him sob inside, which scared him.

  She blinked away the unremitting tears. “The Bastard told you I’d died? I don’t understand.”

  Hatred for the man who had been his father curdled Nik’s emotions. Before he could speak, he had to swallow the bile that churned and threatened to erupt.

  Stunned, he repeated himself. “I never knew you were alive, or that I had a brother.”

  Nellie sat up and slumped back against the cushions, careful not to let go of Nik’s hand. She looked over at Max. But he said nothing. So she swiped at her nose with the wad of tissues Max had handed her and began to talk.

  “I like your name for him, used it over the years myself a time or two. Hang on, Max. I’m getting to it.”

  Nellie waved Max away after he’d made an impatient move towards her. Then she turned back to Nik, her eyes begging for forgiveness. “In a nutshell, the Bastard beat me until I hated the sight of him. One night, Nik, you woke up. Even as a two-year-old, you ran up to him and yelled for him to stop. And so he turned on you. He hit you hard. You flew against the wall and lost consciousness. I was in no condition to go with you to the hospital, so he took you himself. I guess it scared him. He’d hurt you too badly to ignore your injuries.

  While he was gone, I called my brother-in-law. He and my sister were in town and had invited us to visit with them at their hotel. It was the reason your father had lost his temper in the first place. He’d refused to let me see them, and, for once in my life, I’d argued. ‘No way,’ he’d screamed. I’d never seen him so furious. But it had been years and I really wanted to visit with her. Of course, he’d made sure it wouldn’t happen. Or thought he had.”

  “Once he’d left with you, I called a taxi, packed up Max and left, went to my sister’s hotel and they took me in. I called him the next day to tell him I was leaving him and taking you boys with me, and he was livid. ‘Don’t bother going to the hospital,’ he’d said. That’s when he told me you had died and if I wanted to leave, fine. To get the hell out of his life and not to come crawling back or he’d take Max and kill me. God forgive me, I believed the Bastard.”

  Max interrupted. “You mean you never checked with the hospital, Mom? How could you be so dense?”

  “Hey? Back off, bro. Let her finish.” Nik surged to his feet, and Max’s blink of surprise halted his forward momentum, stopped him from beating the crap out of his newly found, short-tempered brother. His glare worked and Max shrugged and stayed where he was. Nik resumed his seat beside Nellie and patted her hand. “Go on.”

  “Of course I did, Max. But I wasn’t in any shape to go to the hospital myself. Your father had thrashed me worse than usual and had broken two of my ribs. Besides, I’d collapsed from hearing the horrible news about Nikky, so my brother-in-law made the trip instead. When he returned to the hotel, he confirmed that you had died and your father had already made arrangements with the hospital. I was in agony, broken-hearted, and couldn’t seem to snap out of it. I found out later that Vi had drugged me to calm me down and the pills had had an adverse effect on me. I was a zombie. So, my sister and brother-in-law packed me and Max up and brought us to their home here in New Orleans.” Exhausted by her speech, Nellie started to sob.

  Max finally came close and rubbed her shoulders. “Uncle Ed was a real bastard, too, Nik. Chances are, he made a deal with our father to keep quiet about your recovery. To an asshole like him, it would have seemed fair for them each to keep a child. Besides, he knew that Mom would never have come here to look after them if she’d known you were still alive. Both my aunt and uncle used Mom as their personal maid and nurse until the day he passed on, then she followed a few years ago.”

  Nik shook his head, disbelieving the cruelty of some people. It never ceased to amaze him how folks could treat others so inhumanely.

  In a voice softened from caring, he murmured, “I’m so sorry, Nellie. That this had to happen to you.” Caressing her hand, he squeezed it gently.

  Nellie’s head shot up and she yanked her fingers from his to point at him. “This didn’t just happen to me, Nik Baudin. It happened to us. And my name is Mom.”

  Chapter 6

  Maya couldn’t believe that Max, or whoever it was she’d run into today, could do this to her again. That son-of-a-bitch drove her crazy. Her partner’s whims were the bane of her existence and if he wasn’t such a good agent, sh
e’d have asked for a transfer a long time ago. Fisting her hands, nails digging into soft skin, she huffed out a breath and relaxed. Who was she trying to kid?

  New Orleans had been home for her ever since she’d come with her family years ago and it would be hard to pull up roots now. Something about the place had grabbed her heartstrings and wouldn’t let go. Whether it was the spicy seafood treats and fried oyster po’boys, the diversity and eccentricities of this port city, or the feeling of history that could be seen if one cared to look, she didn’t know. All she knew was when it had come time for her to fill out the box on the FBI’s form for where she’d prefer to be posted; she’d filled in New Orleans.

  Not once had she regretted her decision. She lived far enough away from her needy family that she could go back periodically and not expect too many return visits, thank goodness. Between her mother and two sisters, there might be enough brain power to rule one simpleton. Those women didn’t have a clue. Men and money, in that order, were all they cared about.

  Her mom was a single mother who’d had three girls to raise; she’d done so by attaching herself to the first willing man, rather than working at a career in order to provide. Maya and her sisters had grown up with so many step-dads that she couldn’t remember their names anymore. Some had been nice while others had been assholes, most had been cheap, and all were gone.

  Sadly, the one who Maya had considered her only true father had died young. A black man with a pure-gold heart and a talent for the clarinet, Sam Brown had been the one who’d made sure she didn’t become like the others. He’d spent enough time with the idealistic young girl to explain the intricacies of life, the importance of self-respect and personal values.