by M. L. Ryan
“It was bad enough finding out my marriage was a sham, but to be told in front of the people that I worked with made it all the more humiliating. My co-workers tried to get one of us out of the room, or at least to get her to shut up, but I kept peppering her with questions. They had been ‘dating’ for almost the entire time we were married. All the time Kyle said he was studying late at night or on weekends, he was with her and I was too stupid to figure it out.”
I finally glanced over and saw that Alex looked like he had just eaten something extremely distasteful. “That’s horrible,” he muttered. “The odds of the two of you working at the same place seem astronomical.”
“I know, if it hadn’t actually happened to me, I would think it was something that could only occur in a made-for-TV movie or bad romance novel.”
“What happened when you confronted him?”
“He didn’t seem all that upset that I knew, or over how I found out. I moved out that day and filed for divorce the day after that.”
Alex shook his head slowly. “How did you handle the work situation?”
“The woman had no idea Kyle was married and broke up with him. She was mortified about what happened—both the affair itself and the manner in which Kyle’s infidelity was exposed—so she quit the same afternoon.”
We sat there for a few moments in silence before Alex spoke. “I feel like a complete cad. Please, please forgive my insensitivity. Here I am, telling you that you should trust me, and I go and make you re-live what must have been the worst day of your life.”
His unabashed contrition was actually kind of endearing and I felt bad that he felt so bad. “It’s okay, Alex, really,” I said as I leaned over towards him and placed my hand over his. “The way it went down definitely sucked, but obviously it was never a good relationship—no matter how much I may have wanted it to be. Rachel hated Kyle the minute she met him. There were warning signs, even before we got married, that I should have paid more attention to, but I think I was just in love with being in love, rather than actually being in love with him.”
Alex rotated his palm so he could squeeze my hand. “You deserve so much more, Hailey.”
“Thanks. You know, if it would make you feel better, I could tell you where he lives and you could turn him into one of those nasty centipedes you liked so much.”
“That, my dear, would be far too good for the likes of that cretin,” Sebastian offered. He had been so quiet I had almost forgotten he was there.
Alex nodded his head in agreement. “Good point, my friend. I say we wait for you to be reconverged and then you can do what you planned for Kashanian.”
Sebastian responded with a small laugh. “Which, the eye thing or the dick thing?”
“Oh, definitely the dick thing,” I quipped.
Alex’s eyes grew wide and then he threw back his head and laughed long and hard. When he finished, he crossed his arms and said with mock indignation, “I thought you found Sebastian’s revenge scenarios disturbing, and here you are embracing them when it suits your own purposes.”
“Yeah, well a girl’s got a right to change her mind.”
Raising one eyebrow, Alex shot me a skeptical look. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
“I rather like the vindictive, implacable side of you. I believe there’s hope for you yet.”
~11~
The discussion of my ersatz marriage was exhausting and besides, now that I’d bared my soul—or at least my relationship failures—to Alex, there didn’t seem to be much more to talk about, so he went back to trying to determine where Sebastian’s body was stashed and I went to bed.
The next day brought a number of promising leads, but no definitive answers about where Otto Kashanian had transported the body. By dinnertime, it was apparent that Alex needed a break, so we drove over to O’Reilly’s.
We arrived during the lull between when the happy hour crowd drifted off and the Friday night music lovers showed up so we had our choice of tables. I waved at Wyatt when we sat down and I could have sworn I saw him lift an eyebrow and smirk a little when he saw I was with Alex. I preferred to believe that Wyatt was just giving me props for hooking up with a hot guy rather than the more likely explanation that he was surprised that I was actually on a date.
I ordered the blue cheese burger to appease Sebastian, while Alex opted for the somewhat healthier grilled chicken sandwich with bacon and green chilies. We had decided on the way there to avoid discussing our “mission” while at dinner, so the conversation was blissfully low key and pleasant.
Rejuvenated by the influx of carbs and grease, we drove home and returned to the task at hand. By Monday morning, Alex had eliminated three of Kashanian’s residences, but the process was slow and tedious because, let’s face it, criminals don’t generally feel compelled to conform to trivialities like filing flight plans. That meant Alex had to use other, more circuitous means to ascertain where Sebastian had been taken.
By the time I got back from work, he had determined that a plane that he believed belonged to Kashanian had taken off the morning after Sebastian was attacked, made a short refueling stop at a small airport in northern India, then continued on to another out of the way airport outside of Ankara, Turkey. The plane remained there for a day, during which time another jet arrived. Each plane then traveled to different locales—one to the Czech Republic, the other to Tunisia—both close to where Otto had homes.
While we were in the middle of a discussion about the two possibilities, my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number and when I answered, I was surprised when the unknown caller identified himself as Wyatt, from O’Reilly’s.
I knew Wyatt had never called me before, in fact, I was pretty sure I had never spoken to him outside of the bar. My bewilderment regarding the situation must have been readily apparent, because Alex furrowed his brow and mouthed, “Everything okay?”
I shrugged at Alex before I said, “Hi Wyatt, what’s up?”
“There was a guy in here earlier asking questions about you. Not by name, but he described you and showed me a photo of that tall, blonde dude you were in here with over the weekend.”
This didn’t sound good. “What did he want to know?”
“Like how often you came in, where you work. Oh, and if I had known you for a long time,” he added. “It was weird. He introduced himself as Detective something, and handed me a fake law enforcement ID.”
“How did you know it was fake?” I asked.
“I’m a bartender. I see fake crap all the time, and frankly, sixteen year-olds trying to get served have more believable shit than this jerk offered.”
I was starting to feel a little queasy, so I sat down on the sofa and took a deep breath before I continued.
“What did you tell him?” I muttered uneasily.
“Nothing. I told him I didn’t recognize the guy in the picture and I had no idea who the woman he described was either. You need to be careful, Hailey. I don’t know what the deal is here, or what the story is with this phony cop or this blonde guy you’re hanging with, but I wanted to give you a heads up.”
“Ask him for a description,” Sebastian whispered in my head.
“What did this guy look like?”
“About five-foot-nine or ten, I’d guess. Big guns, looks like he’s pretty serious about bodybuilding—short, dark hair, and a tat on his left hand, some sort of a squiggly design. Sound familiar?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “Hey, thanks Wyatt. I appreciate you letting me know about this.” I was about to say goodbye when I realized that he shouldn’t have had my number. “By the way, how did you get my number?”
“Men’s bathroom, second stall,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?”
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” he began with a soft chortle. “Actually, one of the dishwashers knows Chelsea, so I had him get it from her. But seriously, girl, watch your back.”
I ended the call and relayed the infor
mation to Alex. He immediately reached over to take my hand to confer with Sebastian on these new and troubling developments, but I admit, whatever his motivation, I was happy for the contact. Knowing that someone—probably not a nice someone—was poking around my life was not something I was really prepared for.
I leaned my head onto the back of the sofa and tried to relax by telling myself that I was probably making a bigger deal about this than was warranted. Unfortunately, listening to Alex and Sebastian wasn’t making me feel any calmer.
“I don’t like this,” Alex grumbled. “It can’t be a coincidence that we get some actionable Intel from Xu and within a few days, someone is asking questions about me and Hailey.”
“Xu is many things, most of which are despicable, but he values his ties to both sides too much to jeopardize himself with a double-cross. Besides, even if he did tell Otto that you had been asking about my body, why would Otto go to the trouble of sending someone here? And can we even be certain that Kashanian sent him?”
Alex paused a moment, seemingly deep in thought, before he answered. “Right now, it doesn’t matter who; I’m more concerned about making sure that Hailey is in no danger. We need to move somewhere safer, and we need to do it now.”
Yep, this is exactly what I was trying to convince myself wasn’t an inevitable problem with having low-lives snooping around, asking for information about you. I looked over at Alex, who gave me a reassuring look. He took both my hands in his before he declared, “I’m so sorry about this, but I think the wisest course is to leave here as soon as possible. I need to make some arrangements—can you pack a few things to get ready?”
I nodded and stood up, pleased that I was able to accomplish the latter without my knees shaking. As I turned to go into my room to figure out what one packs to go into hiding, Vinnie meandered across the living room and plunked himself down in the middle of the floor. I’d have to call Rachel and make sure she could watch Vinnie while I was gone. And work… shit, what was I going to do about my job?
I realized that I was going to have to do more than just throw some stuff in a bag before I could take off to wherever for however long this was going to take. I took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. I still had a crap load of vacation time accrued, but no one was going to be happy with an unscheduled absence on short notice.
I turned back toward Alex, who was already talking to someone on his cell phone. He noticed me and finished his conversation shortly thereafter.
“We’ll use a friend’s place in New Hampshire,” he said as he ended the call. “I just need to coordinate travel plans.”
“What am I supposed to say to explain why I am suddenly leaving town?” I blurted out, much more frantically than I had intended. In an attempt to appear somewhat less harpy-like, I added, “I can’t very well tell anyone the truth, but I have to come up with something at least vaguely credible. Any ideas, boys?”
After some discussion, we decided on a story that my sister Sarah was once again in a family way, but confined to bed due to complications. I was going to go to Ohio to help take care of my nieces while Sarah’s husband, Terry, continued to run their dry cleaning establishment. Rachel and Chelsea should find that believable, as Sarah had had some minor problems during her last pregnancy, and they knew enough about Terry from me to accept that he wouldn’t be able to supervise a business and three children under the age of four by himself. A sticking point could be that I rarely spoke to, much less saw, any of my sisters, but I figured I could weave some tale about wanting to help in this time of need if anyone asked.
That settled, I went to my room to pack. I had never been to New Hampshire before, but I assumed it would be pretty cold there this time of year. This posed a problem, considering the mild winters I was used to here in Southern Arizona. My wardrobe of lightweight shirts and jeans probably wouldn’t be adequate for the Great White North. So, while I searched through my closet for the few cold weather-clothing choices I owned, I called Rachel.
“Hey, Rach,” I began when she answered. “I need a huge favor.”
I explained my predicament, at least the fabricated one, and Rachel agreed to take care of Vinnie without hesitation.
“No problem, Hails. You want me to drop by and feed him and clean the litter?”
“Not a good idea. We can’t be certain that this miscreant won’t discover where you live, and if he does, it will be safer for Rachel if she isn’t going in and out of your house.”
Leave it to Sebastian to consider the worst-case scenario. I hadn’t considered that the potential for danger here might continue once we were gone and the last thing I wanted to do was put anyone else in peril, particularly not my best friend or my cat.
“Actually, I’m not sure how long I will be gone. Hopefully, it will just be a few days and Sarah and Terry can make other arrangements, but it could be as long as a week or two. Vinnie doesn’t do well when he is alone. Could I bring him to your house?”
I wasn’t kidding about Vinnie’s need for human companionship. Last year, I left him with food and water while I spent a weekend at the American Cheese Makers Association’s annual convention and he became uncharacteristically destructive.
“Good point. I don’t want to have to relive the experience of helping you clean cat puke out of all your shoes. Bring him over,” Rachel replied.
“Thanks, Rach, you’re the best. I’ll get his stuff together and drop him off in an hour or so.”
“Sounds good. Besides, this will give me a chance to check out how Harrison acts toward pets. I’ve heard that you can judge how a guy will be with kids by the way he is with animals.”
“Are you and Harrison talking about having children?”
Why their decision to conceive seemed inconceivable made no sense at all. Probably a deep-seated desire for some normalcy was the culprit, given what was happening in my life right now, and somehow Rachel and Harrison becoming parents suggested more weirdness than I could handle.
Rachel huffed out an exasperated breath. “Calm down. We aren’t at that point yet, but since I want to have a family someday, it never hurts to do a little investigation beforehand.”
“Where did you hear that? I’ve known plenty of people who love animals but are a disaster with kids, and vice versa.”
“I read that Maria Shriver’s father gave her that advice about Arnold Schwarzenegger.” Rachel paused for a moment before she continued with a snicker, “Although, now that I think of it, that advice didn’t work out so well for Maria and Arnold, did it?”
I decided to change the subject and finalized some details of Vinnie’s care before I ended the call. Next, I phoned my boss, and lucked out when all I got was his answering machine. I left an appropriately contrite message, apologizing profusely for using my vacation time on such short notice, and assuring him that I had made the proper arrangements with the rest of the crew to provide full coverage while I was away.
Those tasks completed, I perused the pile of potential packables I had laid out on the bed. Jeans, a pair of sweatpants, a couple of long-sleeved tees, a flannel shirt, a fleece jacket, and a long forgotten pullover sweater comprised the ragtag collection of items I had assembled. I added underwear, socks, and some hiking boots. It wasn’t high fashion, but at least I had enough layers to keep me from being too cold. I stuffed some essential toiletry items into a small pouch and tucked them into the zippered pocket on the outside of the bag.
When I returned to the living room with my bag, Alex was absorbed in yet another phone call. This time, he was speaking a language so unlike any I had ever encountered—an odd mix of guttural sounds interspersed with somewhat bird-like trills—I assumed it must not be of my world. I listened carefully but was still unable to distinguish individual words. Although I couldn’t understand what he was saying, it was obvious that Alex was not happy. He was positioned such that he hadn’t noticed I was there and when he finished the conversation, he leaned his head back and let out a long, deep breath.
As I moved across his line of vision to deposit my bag near the front door, his bearing quickly changed back to his usual cheery calm.
“All packed?” he asked as he shot me one of his awesome Alex smiles.
I briefly contemplated inquiring about what had him so troubled, but if he was making such an effort to keep me in the dark, I was probably better off not knowing the details. Instead, I simply remarked, “Yep, I just need to get Vinnie and his stuff together and we can get going.”
“Don’t forget your passport. You have one, yes?”
“Yes, but last time I checked, New Hampshire didn’t require one for entry.” I regretted the sarcasm immediately, particularly because of the frown it elicited from Alex.
“New Hampshire doesn’t,” he began, “but we have no idea if we will be traveling to other places where proof of citizenship is considered compulsory.”
“Always best to be prepared for any contingency, my dear,” Sebastian chimed in. “Although, in truth, it would be best if you didn’t use anything with your real name. Perhaps we can have some forged documentation prepared for you instead.”
Wow, a counterfeit passport with a fictitious name was kind of appealing.
“Alex, Sebastian thinks I should have fake identification. Do I get to choose my own pseudonym?”
“That’s a good idea, Sebastian,” he said as he punched in a number on his phone. “I’ll get Tannis on that right away.”
While he waited for his call to be answered, he glanced at me and added, “Unfortunately, Hailey, you won’t get to choose. On short notice one takes whatever one can get.”