by G. K. Parks
“But he’s a tech expert.”
“I know that.” I stared at Justin, wondering why he suddenly thought he should question me.
“Yes, sir.”
As I perused Mr. Karam’s qualifications, I left a voicemail for Almeada. This was the fourth one I left in the last six hours, but I had questions and since I shelled out the attorney’s exorbitant retainer fee every month, he would get over it. Last night, I decided I could wait to hire IT experts since I could do most of the work myself or source it out without anyone being the wiser, but in the light of day, with corporate clients on the horizon and being stretched too thin, it couldn’t wait.
Unlike the other applicants, Amir didn’t just have a computer background. He also had a science background with an emphasis in forensics. The former NSA analyst turned college professor just finished a stint teaching evidence collection and analysis at the FBI academy in Quantico. He’d be perfect, but when I initially tried to woo him, he wasn’t impressed by Cross Security. He wanted fancy lab equipment and top of the line technology, not an espresso maker hidden away in what was once a closet turned break room. But maybe I could persuade him to change his mind.
At seven, when my receptionist arrived at work, she silently made me a cappuccino, placed it beside me, and went back to her desk. I blinked a few times, rereading the proposal I drafted. It wasn’t much since the only numbers I had to play with were projections based on guesswork. I had no idea how many clients I’d sign or how much work they’d pass my way. When I embarked on this endeavor, eighteen of my former clients expressed an interest in working with Cross Security. But until they signed the paperwork, those were nothing more than hollow promises. Still, it was something to go on.
I hit print and handed the paper copy to my receptionist. “Read over this and tell me what you think. Mark any suggestions or changes on here, and I’ll look them over.”
She nodded, just as the phone rang. “Cross Security and Investigations. How may I help you?”
I went back to my desk, my eyelids pulsing to the beat of my heart. Almeada hadn’t called back yet, but he rarely showed up to work before nine. A few minutes later, the door opened, and one of the men I hoped to hire stepped inside. Spit-shined and sharp, he gave his name to the receptionist. Before he even sat down, I stepped into the doorway, doing my best to appear in charge, despite my coffee-stained shirt, unshaved face, and tired eyes.
“Thanks for coming in so quickly. Please.” I gestured into my office and the man followed me inside. Since he showed up before my attorney had time to review the contracts, I considered stalling, but I already appeared unprepared. Waiting would only make it worse. “I’m pleased to extend an offer to you.” I handed him the paperwork, relieved when Justin appeared in my doorway with some clean clothes. “I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the terms.”
Getting up, I took my dry cleaning into the tiny bathroom and changed. After changing and combing my hair, I went back into my office and signed the first member of my security team. Just nine more to go.
Almeada phoned around 9:30 to say the contracts were solid, which was a relief since I had already signed two new employees while I waited for him to get out of bed and get to work. My assistant made miracles happen. Admittedly, it didn’t hurt that these former military types routinely woke at five a.m. for the hell of it. As soon as my prospective new hires received Justin’s call, they headed to my office. Why didn’t everyone behave this way? Patience, Lucien.
Aside from the contracts being solid, Almeada also said he needed more time to review Scott Renwin’s files, but he wanted to subpoena Renwin’s records to keep things official and aboveboard, particularly now that he knew doing so would be worthwhile.
“Great,” I said.
“Have you spoken to any of the people who filed complaints against Sgt. Renwin?”
“Not yet.” It was on my list of things to do, somewhere between getting a team ready for on-the-job training and catching some zzz’s.
“All right. When you do, let me know. Proceedings like this don’t require witnesses, but I like to be prepared.”
“That’s why I like you.”
“That’s why? I thought it was because I saved your ass from serving hard time.”
“You aren’t my only phone-a-friend. But that didn’t hurt either.”
“Cross,” Almeada said, “do you have any idea what triggered Renwin’s change in behavior?”
“Not yet.” Though, it was another thing on my to-do list. “I’ll ask Jade if she remembers what happened around the time he changed. Most times, a break like that would be caused by a traumatic event, maybe a death.” Scott’s unresolved issues with dear old dad could have manifested in the son turning into his father. But I didn’t want to speculate, nor did I care. What turned Scott into a monster wasn’t my fault or my job to figure out or fix. My only concern was keeping him away from Jade. The police department would have to figure out a way to keep him away from the general public. That was beyond the scope of my capabilities.
Hanging up, I opened my office door and invited the next future Cross Security employee inside. He had just signed on the dotted line when my receptionist came to the door. She knew not to disturb me unless it was urgent.
“What is it?” I asked her.
“Ms. McNamara’s on the phone. She said the cops are outside her door.”
Twelve
I raced to Jade’s, leaving Justin in charge of the contract negotiations. He knew how far I was willing to go to sign these men and women, but it made me itchy not handling it myself. It was my name on the line. This was Cross Security and Investigations. And I was Lucien fucking Cross. But none of that mattered right now.
Driving past the apartment building, I noted the two patrol cars parked near the front door. No lights. No sirens. I wrote down the cruiser numbers, found the closest space a block away, and jogged back to Jade’s building. Entering the code, I stepped inside.
It took time for my eyes to adjust to the dim hallway, and I nearly tripped on the stairs. I didn’t have a plan. I couldn’t even remember if I grabbed my wallet on the way out. My carry permit and P.I. license were inside. I’d need them if things went south.
I burst onto Jade’s floor. The stairwell door banged against the wall, and a uniformed officer turned to look in my direction. His hand rested on his holster, but his posture didn’t appear threatening. He offered a tight smile and nodded.
I returned the gesture and went past him down the hall to Jade’s apartment, noticing his partner speaking to a man inside the apartment. Without knocking, I slipped my copy of the key into the lock and turned the knob.
“Hey, it’s Lucien,” I called, pulling the door closed behind me and relocking the door. “Jade? Hello?”
Her things remained in the corner of the room, but I didn’t see her. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and dialed her new number. I waited, listening. A moment later, the annoying high-pitched melody played.
“Jade?” I tried again. “Are you in here? It’s only me. I didn’t mean to barge in.” I glanced out the window in case she decided to take her chances on the ledge. Where could she be? I cleared my throat. “Jade?” The car keys remained on the kitchen counter.
Knocking on the bedroom door, I waited a second before twisting the knob. It was locked, which could only be done from the inside. She had to be here. I knocked louder. Still nothing.
A sick thought twisted my stomach in knots. What if he found her? What if he locked the two of them in her bedroom? Maybe the cops in the hallway were his lookouts.
“Jade?” I said more frantically, though my volume remained low. I didn’t want anyone outside the apartment to hear what was going on. It’s why I didn’t knock on the door before letting myself in.
I turned around and mule-kicked the door. The cheap lock gave way under the force, and I pulled my gun and stepped into the bedroom.
She didn’t scream. Why didn’t she scream? I
swept the room. No one was here, but I heard a whimper coming from the bathroom.
Oh god. For a moment, I thought I might have a heart attack. Sweat coated my skin, dripping into my eyes. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. Another strangled whine came from inside, making me forget everything. The sound grabbed me, and I shouldered my way through the locked bathroom door, gun aimed.
Her teal eyes went wide. Tears dripped down her face, and she pressed both her hands even harder against her lips, muffling the surprised scream. I looked around, barely able to breathe. She eased one of her hands off her mouth, fighting not to sob.
“Whoa, hey,” I said, seeing the gun in my hands and realizing it shouldn’t be there. Tucking it into my holster, I held up my palms, which shook. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to point the gun at you. I won’t hurt you. You know that. I didn’t mean to startle you. My receptionist gave me your message, and when I tried calling back, you didn’t answer. I didn’t know what happened. I thought…”
She trembled, biting her fist to muffle her shrieks and sobs. I looked around the bathroom. I didn’t know what happened or why she locked herself inside. At the moment, nothing made sense. Dropping to my knees beside the tub, I rested my elbow on the ledge and took a few deep breaths.
By the time Jade calmed down, my heart rate had dropped to something that probably wouldn’t even register on a monitor. People always accused me of being heartless. Maybe this was why.
She sniffled and wiped her eyes, still shaky. “What are they doing here?”
“Who?”
“The police.” She swallowed, wincing. Her throat sore from the sobs and screams. “They knocked on my door and asked if I’d seen a man. They wanted to know if I was alone. They wanted to come inside.”
“Did you recognize them? Are they Scott’s friends?”
“I don’t know. I was so scared.” She placed her hand on the tub ledge, and I inched mine forward until it brushed against hers. She stretched her fingers out and took my hand. “I told them I didn’t know anything and had something on the stove, so they couldn’t come in. After that,” the tears silently fell, “I just hid in the tub like I always do when Scott’s on a tear. He’s like a tornado.”
“So you take cover in the tub?” I teased. “Makes sense.”
She laughed, probably from nerves. “It’s stupid. But I figured they’d tell him I was here. I thought by hiding in the bathtub he wouldn’t be able to find me.”
“I’m sorry.” I stood, reaching down to help her out of the tub, though my own legs wobbled. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You didn’t answer the phone. And I didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention by knocking on your door. Why didn’t you answer when I called your name?”
“I didn’t hear you, just the bedroom door slamming. Another thing Scott does frequently.” She scowled, stepping out of the tub. The soles of her sneakers squeaked as she slipped on the tile. Automatically, I enveloped her in my arms to stop her from falling, and she tensed. “I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy.”
“Don’t apologize. Never apologize.”
She pushed against my chest. “In that case, let go.” She didn’t like to be touched.
I slowly released her, making sure her footing was stable. “Most accidents happen in the bathroom. Let’s get out of here so I can figure out what’s going on without having to worry about one of us falling and breaking our neck.”
We went back into the living room, and I peered through the peephole. The police officers had moved on to another apartment. They were canvassing the building. I just didn’t know why. It made me uneasy.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
She swallowed, aghast at the prospect, but managed to say, “Okay.”
I buttoned my jacket and opened the door. “Excuse me,” I said to the officer who acknowledged me earlier. “Do you mind if I ask what’s going on? My roommate said you dropped by to ask her about a man.”
The officer nodded and flashed a photo in my direction. “An hour ago, this man broke into the ATM down the street. Eyewitnesses say they thought they saw him enter one of these apartment buildings. Have you seen him?”
I looked at the photograph, a blown-up image from the ATM’s surveillance camera. “No, sir. I was at work.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. With the buzzer on the door, I bet he entered the other apartment building, but we have to be thorough. In case you see him, please call 9-1-1 and let them know.”
“Absolutely.”
Thirteen
“Did you give them your name?” I asked.
“No, of course not.”
“Good.” I tapped my phone against the table. “And you didn’t recognize either of them?”
Jade shook her head.
“Okay, let me make a few calls and see if dispatch received reports and sent the two patrol units to check it out.”
“How are you going to do that?” Jade asked.
I smirked. “Magic.”
Sara Rostokowski wasn’t my only friend in the department. I had several, even a few in dispatch. After verifying the details, I hung up and peered out the window. An evidence collection van parked down the street, and another two blue and whites arrived to rope off the area surrounding the ATM. The call appeared legit.
“Lucien, I’m sorry I bothered you.”
Confused, I turned to look at her. “You have no reason to apologize.” Returning to the front door, I peered out the peephole, but the hallway was quiet. Cautiously, I opened the door and poked my head out, looking both ways. The police officers were gone. They might be on another floor, or they left the building. “It’s just bad luck or bad timing.” I locked the door. “They weren’t looking for you.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be.” I pointed out the window. “This is far too elaborate a ploy for Scott to have concocted.”
She nodded a few times, hugging her arms around her body. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Do you want some tea?” I rummaged through the kitchen. If I didn’t get caffeine inside of me soon, I’d hit the floor. I flexed my fingers against the residual tremor from the adrenaline dump. “Or a glass of water? Maybe a valium?”
She laughed, realizing the last was a joke. It might have been the first time I heard her laugh in amusement, not from nerves or sarcasm. “Is pushing pills your side hustle?”
“No, though I might consider it in the future.” My mind circled back to today’s appointments and contract negotiations. Opening the container of coffee pods, I put one in the brewer and shoved a mug beneath it. “Coffee?”
She shook her head. “That’s the last thing I need.” Dropping into a chair, she pulled her knees to her chest, looking down at the red marks on her hand from her own teeth. “I really thought he found me. You must think I’m crazy.”
The machine let out a hiss, and I picked up the steaming mug. “No, but he might be.” Pulling out the chair beside her, I sat down. “It turns out Scott’s been unstable for a while now. Do you remember anything happening to him around the time he first hit you? Maybe someone died? His dad or someone at work?”
She stared at the light blue cup in my hand. “His dad passed before we got together. He mentioned it once, but I don’t think he really cared. They weren’t close.”
“Do you know if he abused Scott?”
“I don’t know. Is that why he’s like this? I would think if you dealt with something like this as a kid, you’d never treat someone else like that since you know how terrible it is.”
“I don’t know. The statistics make it appear the chances are more likely, but you’d have to ask a psychologist.”
Jade nodded. “Yeah, I know. One of my professors was a prison psychologist. She explained it, backed it by studies and everything, but I never understood.”
“That’s probably a good thing. It means you’re normal.”
She snorted. “I don’t know what your life is like, Lucien, but this isn’t no
rmal.”
“At least you recognize that.” I smiled and sipped my coffee. She derailed my line of questioning, so I tried again. “What about other traumatic events in Scott’s life?”
Jade thought for a while. “Something happened at work three years ago. I don’t remember all the details, but Scott got called to a scene. I remember because we went to a funeral a week later. The responding officers had been killed.”
“Did they catch the guy?”
“I thought they did, but,” she chewed on her fingernail, “Scott moped around the house for a couple of weeks after that. Then he started drinking a lot more.”
“Is that around the time he first hit you?”
She nodded.
“All right.” I regretted my words, cringing. “It’s not all right, but…”
“I know what you meant.” She picked up my empty coffee cup and washed it in the sink. “Why does any of this matter?”
“Mr. Almeada wanted to know Scott’s history. It might be relevant information he needs for the hearing.”
From the silence that ensued, I knew Jade had reservations. But I didn’t push. Almeada explained to her why this was important. Scott didn’t leave her a choice. She needed to do something to keep him away, and unfortunately, a court order was the best our society had to remedy the situation.
“I should get back to the office.” Glancing down at my sweat-stained and wrinkled shirt, I sighed. This time, I’d stop at home to shower and change. Apparently, I needed to keep a few sets of clothes in the office. Who knew private investigator work would require this much dry cleaning?