In The Absence Of Light

by Adrienne Wilder

  “Hines might have been special agent in charge of the investigation on you originally, but his reach only goes so far. He’d have to get approval to walk a prisoner out, and he’d have to have a damn good reason.”

  “Homeland Security? Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Still…” The busy city street reflected in his mirrored sunglasses. “To do something like that takes a certain level of clearance. Not to mention the prison guards who would be witnesses.”

  “I’ve have associates who’ve served time in prison and some who worked in them. Both sides will tell you, after a while, you get apathetic. The people in charge don’t hear or see anything. You just go there, do your job, and try to get home in one piece. And the prisoners try not to get shanked or piss off a guard. It’s the only way to stay sane. Believe it or not, Jeff, people don’t get cured when they go to jail, they learn better ways to not get caught. And the people who work there? Some of them come out of the job a completely different person than they were when they went in. Maybe Hines paid someone off, or maybe he just told them he was going to rid the world of a piece of shit scumbag. Or maybe he didn’t have to say anything at all and just flashed his ID. Who knows?”

  “Would still be a huge risk for anyone to let a prisoner walk out without a court order. Even if the person taking them was FBI. If something happened to someone on the outside, even the prisoner, there would be questions.”

  “Not if there’s not any evidence they’d been in their prison.”

  “How could there not be a record?”

  “You tell me. Dillon’s records were erased. It was like he’d never been there.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “I figured the FBI had access to prison data with a few key strokes.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Sure, we have access.”

  I shrugged. ”So Hines slipped and hit the delete key?”

  “I don’t think it’s that easy.”

  “Why not, you make people disappear all the time.” A line of cabs formed at the curb. People got in, people got out. A tour bus cut around them, belching a cloud of burned diesel.

  “I know he wasn’t happy when they took him off as SAC and appointed me, and tried to run things from the backseat, but this is…” He shook his head. “He’s risking his career, Grant. If anyone ever found out, he’d go to prison.”

  “I seem to remember another agent who was hot to trot for my list a few months ago. He was willing to hurt someone I cared about too.”

  Jeff dropped his gaze. “I might be an asshole, but I’m not a killer. I would have never done anything to put Morgan in real danger. I just needed your attention.”

  “Yeah, and you got it.”

  “I realized that.” He scuffed his feet against the concrete. “What are you going to do?”

  “Give him the list.”

  “And you think he’ll let you walk away?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you’re right, he’s committed some serious crimes. And if he shows up with that list, the director is going to want to know how he got it. Scaring you never worked before. If they ask around, they’ll find out about Morgan, then Dillon and the missing prison records. He’ll get caught.”

  I nodded. “Has it occurred to you maybe he’s not doing this for the job?”

  “Then why else would he?”

  “Something personal. My bet something illegal enough to risk losing his job.”

  Jeff rubbed his jaw.

  “What?” I said.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You’re thinking about something, what is it?”

  “Remember when I told you about Ruford and Zada closing up shop?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That wasn’t the complete truth.”

  “Have you ever given me the complete truth about anything?” Guilt, regret, and maybe even sorrow rippled through Jeff’s expression. Before he could say anything, I said, “What was the truth?”

  “Their bodies washed up in Grand Haven.”

  “Surprising, and not.”

  He nodded. “They were supposed to go into witness protection. Came forward while Lorado was doing his tour in Egypt. They were going to testify against him. Claimed he had law enforcement on the payroll.”

  “No wonder they wound up dead.” I couldn’t think of one person who had crossed Lorado and lived. Number one reason I never did business with the man. He stayed on his side of the docks; I stayed on mine. Also why I worked very hard to keep my clientele specialized. The last thing I wanted was someone who pissed him off, putting merchandise on my boat.

  “Yeah, they were shot in the back, same gun, close range, and the decomp condition suggested they probably died about the same time. Hines was the agent in charge of picking them up.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, one agent for two very well-known killers.”

  “I thought so. Hines blew it off. He said they would only ride with him. Then he came back empty-handed and said they were a no-show.”

  “And that didn’t throw up any red flags?”

  “We’re talking about Hines here. SAC at the time. He has twenty-plus years on the job and two Meritorious Achievement medals. So no, I didn’t question him. And people like Ruford and Zada aren’t exactly worth crying over.” Jeff had a point.

  “So now you’ve changed your mind? Why?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re entertaining the idea.” I jerked my chin.

  “Maybe.”

  “Spit it out, Jeff.”

  “A couple of months ago, Hines’s wife asked me if I knew if he was having an affair.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “No. Which was, as far as I knew, the truth. I asked her why she thought he was, and she said there was some money missing from their accounts and he was getting phone calls at odd hours of the night. She seemed pretty insistent, then last month for their anniversary they renewed their vows and he bought her a Mercedes.”

  I whistled. “Sounds like an affair apology to me and then a promise to keep it in his pants or else.”

  “I wondered that myself. Then something weird happened. Hines forgot his personal cell phone in his office one evening when he left. Damn thing kept going off every thirty seconds and I had work to do, so I thought I’d shut it off. Just as I picked it up, he came back into the building. Got pretty pissed. Wanted to know why was going through his stuff. I told him the thing was chirping like a wounded bird. He looked it over, I guess to see if I’d been snooping, then told me to stay out of his personal space and left.”

  “But you saw something.”

  “Yeah, a phone number. I only saw it for a second, but I swear it was the same damn number associated with Inman Enterprise.” Which was Lorado’s shipping company.

  “And you just happened to know that how?”

  “Because I used to stare at it every time a call came through to be recorded. But it was a long time ago, before I was assigned to your case. I thought maybe I was wrong, but now this.”

  “You think him and Lorado are doing business?”

  “I don’t know.”

  If Hines was keeping Lorado privy to information from the inside, it could give him a huge upper hand in moving his products. It could also explain why of all the big dealers, he never seemed to be bothered by the feds. Or at least not to the extent as his competition. And when he was tailed, the busts were always minor, and his lawyer always seemed to get the charges dropped.

  It would also explain how a relatively unknown man had gotten so big so fast, taking over most of the shipping docks and the clientele.

  If Hines and Lorado were working together, then things were even uglier than I thought. This was no longer just about Hines, but Lorado. Even Rubio feared the man.

  “What are you going to do?” Jeff jerked his chin at me.

  I shifted the bag to my other shoulder. “I should probably try
to find a motel.”

  I turned, and he grabbed my arm. “Grant. If you’re right, he’s not going to let you walk away.”

  No, I was more likely to end up like Ruford or Zada. “I’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

  “You need to worry about it now.”

  I pulled out of his grasp. “Look, I’m tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep, and I’m sure when Hines calls, he won’t want to be kept waiting.”

  “Let me help you.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

  “Damn it, if he’s gone bad, he needs to be brought down.”

  “Trying to earn one of those Meritorious Achievement medals?”

  “This isn’t a joke.”

  No, it wasn’t. It was life or death. Hines or mine. Maybe even Morgan’s. But I’d trusted Jeff one too many times and gotten burned. Sure, he’d been doing his job, trying to catch the bad guys, but still…

  Jeff stepped closer. “I don’t want to see you get killed.”

  “I gotta go.” I headed to the line of cabs.

  “There’s a new café next to the old drug store that sells the ten-pound bag of gummy bears. I’m going to be there for dinner. Probably around six or so.”

  “Hope the food is good.” I waved down a cabbie.

  “If you’ll join me, I’ll buy.”

  “No promises.” I opened the back door and tossed in my bag.

  “I mean it, Grant, I want to help.”

  And whether I liked it or not, I needed all the help I could get.

  ********

  I found a pay by the hour, day, or week motel. The kind where the vacancy sign was always lit and rattraps lined the hallways. I could have gotten better accommodations, but I needed a place where they only took cash and didn’t ask for ID. Or if they did, you could show them a few Jeffersons and their copying machine would instantly break down and they’d transpose a few of the numbers on your driver’s license in their logbook.

  The man sitting at the front desk greeted me with a gapped smile. His toupee was lopsided. After he counted the wad of cash I’d given him for a week’s stay, he fumbled around in a drawer until he came up with a key.

  “Don’t lose that, it’s the only copy, and I’ll have to charge you for a new lock.”

  The giant yellow tag attached to the ring stuck to my palm. It was probably gum, at least I hoped it was gum. As soon as I got inside the room, I washed my hands just in case.

  Taking the plane meant leaving behind any weapons, but I knew where to go to score what I needed, although their storefronts wouldn’t be open until past noon, a few not till dark.

  Exhaustion left me lying on the ugly maroon comforter. At least it smelled clean. Either that or housekeeping had a stock in Febreze.

  The nurse had said the anesthetic they gave Morgan would last a few hours. It was well past those few hours, yet I hadn’t called the hospital to check on him. I wanted to. My joints ached to dial the number, but fear kept me from picking up the phone.

  Besides, if there had been a big change, I was sure Aunt Jenny would call and she hadn’t. I tried not to think of what that could mean, but of course it was impossible.

  A strip of sunlight made a line across the bed beside me. I ran a finger through the beam, and the color in my skin was bleached away only to return when I moved outside the limits of the light.

  I did it again and again for absolutely no reason, feeling nothing, hearing nothing, wishing I could understand what Morgan saw, heard, even felt when he danced his fingers in the fragments of light.

  He’d told me there were hidden messages, or stories. I hadn’t really given it much thought until then. In spite of what should have happened concerning Dillon, he’d gotten out, and Morgan had known he would.

  Dear God, what if I had somehow convinced him to give me the gun the day I caught him shooting the bottles. It left me wondering what else Morgan knew or could know. What other secrets did the light sing to him?

  My cell phone rang, and I jerked my hand from under the beam as if it had burned me. Another muffled ring had me rolling off the bed and stumbling to the door, which was all of three steps, where I’d dropped my duffle. I dug through it, found my phone.

  A mix or relief and anger washed over me when the number came up unknown.

  “I take it your flight was comfortable?” The noise in the background suggested Hines was either driving or somewhere there was enough traffic for the noise to carry.

  “Out of curiosity, are you going to shoot me like you did Zada and Ruford or just slit my throat? Throat cutting is messy and personal, I figured you’d just shoot me.”

  Hines laughed. “I don’t want to kill you, Grant.”

  “But you’re not going to let me walk away. You can’t. I’d be a witness.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “You know why.”

  He laughed again, this time it was deeper, darker. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Just so you know, if you go back on your word, you will die.”

  “Really?” The background noise faded until it became a hollow echo. Underground garage? An alley? Was he close? “And how do you expect to kill me, if, like you say, I’m not going to let you walk away alive?”

  “Same way I make things disappear. Like you said, Abracadabra.”

  His exhale rattled the speaker. “Unlike Special Agent Shaldon, I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Of course you aren’t. I haven’t given you a reason to be.”

  “Face it, Grant. You’re soft. You’ve always been soft. Eugene was too, it’s why he had a quarter of the fortune he could have had. You’re just like him, you know. Pathetic and weak.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. Eugene had honor, respect, and the trust of a lot of people, I’m willing to bet you don’t even have one out of the three, despite your FBI badges of honor. Tell me, Hines, does your wife know what you’re doing?”

  A car door opened then shut. The soft rumble of an engine filled the silence.

  “You on your way home or to work? Do you plan on putting in your two week notice when you go criminal full-time, or are you just going to call in sick and disappear?”

  “Shut up, Grant, I’m not in the mood to hear you talk about anything but your client list.”

  “Then get a pen and paper.” I sat back down on the edge of the bed. A spring bit the back of my thigh and I had to move over.

  “No. I’m not going to rush this. I don’t want you to leave out a single detail. I want to look you in the eye when you give me those names so I know you’re telling me the truth.”

  “Aww, are you asking me out on a date?”

  “There’s an old church near Randal’s Pub. Be there in the morning, nine a.m. sharp. Don’t be late, come unarmed, and alone.”

  “And who would I bring?”

  “I know Shaldon met you at the airport. The Assistant Director might believe him when he says his job comes first, but I don’t. If I find out you’ve said anything to him, I’ll make sure you get a front row seat at his funeral.”

  I forced myself to keep breathing.

  “Do we understand each other?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Nine a.m., sharp. Do not be late. If you are, even two deputies watching over your little retarded boyfriend won’t stop me from getting to him.” Hines hung up, and I was left trembling.

  ********

  The café was some greasy spoon diner tucked beside an out-of-business cigar shop. The customers consisted of cabbies, truck drivers, and the occasional couple looking for a cheap meal.

  Dressed in jeans, a polo, and a ball cap, I almost didn’t recognize Jeff tucked in the corner where he had a view of the entire room. It was the kind of spot I would have chosen. Especially now, when I had no idea who was going to sneak up on me.

  He caught sight of me, and his smile went crooked. The waitress taking his order nodded and walked
away.

  “I told her to bring you some tea. You’ll have to sweeten it, though.”

  Chrome edged the checkered walls, and all the booths were red vinyl. “Classy joint.”

  “They’re going for a 50s motif, I think.”

  “Hope the food's worth the migraine.”

  “Best hamburger you’ll ever put your mouth on, and the onion rings prove there is a God.”

  The waitress came back with a glass of tea. “You boys ready to order?”

  “Burger, double order of onion rings.” Jeff handed her the menu.

  “I’m not hungry, thanks.”

  “Bring him the same, I don’t want him picking off my plate.” She left, and I frowned at him.

  “I said I wasn’t hungry.”

  “When you smell mine, you will be.”

  I fished out sugar packets from the white box between the salt and pepper shaker. “Do you know whether or not you were followed?” I said it so casually I think it caught Jeff off guard because he stared at me for a moment before he realized I was serious.

  “Why would I be followed?”

  “Hines knew you met me at the airport.”

  “Of course he did, I didn’t make a secret of it. Told the whole office I was going to find out whether or not I won the pot.”

  “What did you tell them when you got back?”

  “That you gave me some lie about visiting relatives and told me to fuck off.”

  I laughed a little. “He doesn’t trust you.”

  “Of course not. You and I were having sex. I compromised myself by letting my emotions get the best of me.”

  “Compromised…” One packet after the other, I emptied them into the glass until I had a pile of white topping the floating ice cubes. “Sounds so…”

  “Impersonal?”

  “Yeah.” Especially coming from a guy who claimed to have loved me.

  “The choice of verbiage is very important when chatting with the department shrink. Compromise shows I knowingly made an unwise decision but did it with the intentions of keeping an emotional distance.”

  I opened my straw and stirred my drink. “You see a department shrink?”

  “Saw.”

  “PTSD?”

  “No, I had to convince them I played the part I needed to play to get the information I was supposed to get.”