Kindred

by Adrianne Lemke

  “Who hired them?” The thugs would be easier to stop, once I took out the man who’d decided the Tracker was better off dead.

  The keyboard clattered as he dug a little further. “Ivan.”

  The name surprised me. I’d thought he was at the Farm when the police came and arrested everyone. Ivan had been one of Mason’s right hand guys, along with Mick. Like so many of Mason’s inner circle, Ivan was huge, and looked like a boxer who’d broken his nose several times. He’d been involved with the kidnapping of the Tracker last autumn, but hadn’t been allowed into the shed when Mason and Mick tortured him. He’d been furious at the insult, arguing with Mason to be allowed in, but Mason wouldn’t let him. The reasoning was unclear, but when he agreed to let some nobody from one of his drug storage facilities join him, Ivan could not ignore the insult.

  It wouldn’t have surprised me to find Ivan behind an attempt to kill Mason at some point if the Tracker hadn’t beat him to it. If I hadn’t allowed the undercover cop in, it might have been interesting to see what Ivan would have done. “You’re still plugged in, why does Ivan want him dead?”

  “Ivan’s taking over the business. He may not want him dead so much as he’s trying to exhaust him with the attempts to kill him. I think he’s trying to pick up where Mason left off. If he can finish something Mason couldn’t…” he let his voice trail, allowing me to finish the thought.

  “Then the gang would follow him without question.” The Tracker would be an invaluable asset to Ivan, just as I was to Mason. He wouldn’t be able to sneak in and be the quiet assassin, but he had extreme power that could be devastating to anyone Ivan decided was a threat.

  He was powerful, but he was young and would still be vulnerable to the torture. And I didn’t know Ivan well enough to know where he’d take the Tracker if he got him, so he needed to be stopped before he got that far. “Do you know where to find him?”

  “He travels a lot. We’ve all noticed what you’ve been doing, and I think Ivan is scared of you. We know what he and Mason did to you.”

  “You do?” I asked with some surprise. “Do you…” I paused, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Do you know who I am?”

  “You are someone who tried to stand up to Mason, to stop him. As you can tell, he didn’t like that very much. I talked to you a couple times before he changed you. You were a better man then. Not always on the right side of the law, but you thought Mason had gone too far with his abuse of the children. I agreed with you and was trying to give you information that would help bring him down. It was lucky for me Mason never discovered my betrayal.”

  “Did you know my name?”

  Carver shook his head regretfully. “You were trying to stay anonymous. I did get the feeling that you were personally connected to Mason somehow. I’m not sure how. And you were not nearly as good at disappearing as you are now. If he met you now, I doubt he could manipulate you the way he did.”

  He rose from his seat, glancing at the door nervously. “I wish I could help you more, but I do have an appointment coming soon, and I’m guessing you do not want people to know you were here. For what it’s worth, I hope you’re able to keep your friend safe. No one deserves what Mason did to you, or tried to do to him.”

  My gaze was fixed on him as I tried to figure him out. “How are you involved in this?” I asked. “You seem too normal, and too nice, to be a part of this kind of life.”

  “Honestly? I made some bad mistakes, and Mason bailed me out and offered me a job in order to pay him back. By the time I knew what I was helping with, I was in too deep to crawl out on my own. You are the only one who tried to help, and when you failed, I gave up. Now get outta here.” I allowed myself to vanish from his sight before he had finished speaking.

  “Thank you,” the whisper drifted back to him as I left the room. He had known more than I could have hoped. In order to be fighting him using Carver, I would have had to be from this city, or from a town nearby. Maybe I did stand a chance of finding the woman who’d been haunting my dreams. And if I found her, I believed I would finally find myself.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Jason

  As promised I walked to the police station before I began my search. Alice and Dan weren’t there, so I got permission to wait at Alice’s desk for them. I’d been there often enough over the last several months, and I was known in this precinct for finally taking Mason out of the picture. It felt strange to me to be respected for being captured and tortured. Most of the people here didn’t know anything about my abilities, so I still wasn’t sure how they figured I had been behind his death. And the ones who did know still respected me.

  However, they knew me well enough to not say much about it. I had no desire to be respected for killing a man, even one who’d been in desperate need of killing.

  “Hey, Jason!” a familiar voice greeted me from behind.

  “Tony,” I said rising to shake his hand. Detective Tony Dimartino had protected the kids when I had been unable to do so. That made him good people.

  “What brings you here? You doing okay?”

  I gestured at the desk, “Just here to talk to Alice.”

  He eyed me doubtfully. “And the thrift-store reject bag?” he asked.

  “I’ve got some stuff I need to do. And I can’t be living at a cop’s house to do it.”

  Tony narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you up to, Jason? I know someone is trying to kill you. The drive-by was at Dan’s house, but it was aimed at you. Don’t go vigilante on us, Jason. Give the cops some time to catch them. We can keep you safe in the meantime.”

  “I’m not going vigilante. I’m trying to do my job, and no one is letting me. I am an informant, Tony. I need to get onto the streets so I can find some information you can use.” I sighed and looked down at the desk. “She’s not going to be happy about it, but I need to do this. This is my only source of income, and this case directly affects me. I need to be a part of the resolution.”

  “That’s why you shouldn’t be. You are too personally involved…”

  “And Alice isn’t? Or Dan? Both of them are my friends, and Dan is fostering the kids I used to protect. They are both personally involved, but they’re still working on it.”

  Tony shook his head. “They aren’t on the case. Not officially, anyway. My partner and I are working on it for exactly the reasons you said. I know the players, but I’m not as emotionally compromised as they are. Please, Jason. Trust us to do our jobs. I don’t want anything to happen to those kids or to you.”

  “What if I promise to contact you every couple hours with any information I’m able to find? Like I said, Tony, this is my job. I’m good at it. Just ask Alice; I’ve been helping her since I was thirteen years old. Give me two days. If I haven’t found anything useful, then I’ll go back to Alice’s like a good little victim.” I almost growled out the last part, still hating the truth behind that word. I’d been a victim in so many ways for my entire life, and I was itching for a way to get out of that mindset.

  It came as some surprise when Tony nodded his agreement. “Two days, Jason. Then you’re back at Alice’s no matter what you’ve found. And you will call me at least three times each day. If I don’t hear from you at nine, noon and ten o’clock I will send units to find you. If necessary I will put out an APB and get you arrested for impeding an investigation. I don’t want to, so don’t push it.”

  “Trust me, Tony. If I don’t call at those times it won’t be because I want to skip a phone call.”

  “Get the information, Jason. If you find out who’s after you, do not approach. Call me immediately. Do you understand?” He waved a small piece of paper in my face emphatically as he spoke.

  “Yes.” He handed me the small card with his name and phone number on it.

  “Then get going. Alice and Dan are out on a call and won’t be back for hours. I’ll take the heat for you being on the streets; tell them I asked for your input. I’ll even get you on the payroll for this case. Just be ca
reful. They will never forgive me if something happens to you.”

  “I will.” I gathered my bag and put the card in the small pocket on the side where I kept my cell phone. “Thanks, Tony.” I rushed out of the station, and could feel Tony’s eyes on me until the door closed behind me.

  I had no clear idea where to start. I talked to a couple people already, but they were unwilling or unable to tell me anything useful. The places I knew to look for Mason’s businesses had been shut down and moved to new locations, although I did check them for any familiar echoes in case they’d been moved recently enough for me to still feel them.

  My phone call to Tony at noon was lacking any information except that I was still okay, and that I was following his instructions. I was able to find some lunch and move to the next section of warehouses and storage facilities. I got lucky at the fourth warehouse where I found several familiar footsteps. Some were so familiar that I knelt and dug in deeper to prove to myself it was actually who I thought. The Boxer. I thought I’d gotten him at the Farm. Was he behind the attempts on my life? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure how to find out without breaking Tony’s rules.

  It wasn’t time for my scheduled call, but I figured he’d want to know what I found. He would want to know for sure that the warehouse was being used for criminal activities, and he didn’t know about my abilities so I peeked in the windows, only able to do so after I raised a portion of the ground below them to give me the height I needed to get to them.

  Sure enough, there were the telltale white bricks. Time to call Tony. I left the raised earth under the window so I could show him where I looked in case he wondered. I was about to duck back down when I saw the Boxer. He was there. And just as big and intimidating as I’d remembered. It would be a good time for the cops to bust this place.

  When I’d walked a little ways from the warehouse, I got out my phone to call Tony. “I found a drug supply warehouse,” I told him.

  “Already? All right, where are you? I’ll leave now and meet you.”

  “Bring Alice and Dan too. They know this case, and I know them,” I demanded. I didn’t feel comfortable working with Tony as my only contact. He was a good cop and a good man, but I preferred working with Alice.

  He agreed, telling me they had gotten back from their crime scene only a few minutes earlier. As expected, Alice was not thrilled I was working the case again, but she was not my boss. I told Tony the address, and agreed not to approach the building without them again. When I’d hung up and reached to put my phone away, I realized my hands were shaking. Seeing the Boxer…it had brought the memories to the forefront of my mind. They weren’t buried very deep to begin with, but to see one of the people who’d tormented me still walking around free like nothing had happened, it was almost impossible for me to hold back the surge of anger-driven power that threatened to escape.

  At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to head to the warehouse and take it all down. To crush those inside like the worthless insects they were. But I knew Alice and Hannah wouldn’t forgive me for doing so. They might understand why, but I wouldn’t get the free pass I’d gotten when Mason had died.

  Instead of focusing on my own painful memories, I tried to figure out whether the Boxer might be one of the ones trying to kill me. I hadn’t gotten the sense that he was very important in the organization, his entire build and temperament screamed body guard, but I’d really only seen him a couple times. Maybe he’d just taken it personally when I’d killed the person he was supposedly protecting. But he hadn’t been in the shed with us at any point, and I was out of it enough at the time that I didn’t remember if he’d been on the Farm at all the day Mason had died. Thinking back on it, I honestly didn’t think he had been. So how could a bodyguard take it personally when he hadn’t been on guard duty at the time his employer had been killed?

  I moved back toward the warehouse so I could watch the doors to see if anyone came or left before the police got there. My tracking ability was on high alert to feel for any specific threats in my immediate vicinity, and also to feel if anyone left the warehouse from an exit I couldn’t see. There were several people moving around inside the building, their steps muffled enough to make them indistinguishable from one to another. But I got enough of an impression from them and the quick glimpse earlier to figure there were anywhere from eight to ten people in there.

  From the bulge in the Boxer’s jacket, at least one was armed. It was likely that most of them were, but I couldn’t prove it if anyone asked. My attention returned to the building as the door closest to my position opened, and I saw the Boxer walk out and get into a car. I closed my eyes and lowered my head, pushing my fists into my eyes in frustration. All of this and he was going to get away again.

  Raising my head again proved that the license was too far away to read and the car was plain, nothing to distinguish it from any other vehicle on the road. It was a black four-door, but I couldn’t get the make or model. I held my breath when they drove past the window where I’d left the new hill of dirt and grass, hoping they wouldn’t see it, or that they’d assume it had always been that way. They didn’t even pause, so I let out my breath shakily. That had been too close. I shouldn’t have left the hill, but now that I had I couldn’t take it down again.

  The car disappeared from sight, and I pounded the ground, upset at my inability to keep the Boxer where the police would find him and arrest him. The dirt around me grumbled, and I focused inward again, trying to keep it under control.

  Control. That was the name of the game. If I could control myself, I could control the power. It was only when I could not manage my emotions that my destructive power took over, so I had to breathe deeply, trying hard to push my frustration away before I accidentally attempted to demolish a warehouse. For the time being there was nothing I could do about the Boxer.

  But now that I knew he was out there, he’d better watch his back.

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Hannah

  How sad was it that I couldn’t remember how I’d kept myself busy before Jason had moved in? He’d left only about a day ago, but already I felt at a loss anytime I was home, because usually he was there, and I spent my time worrying about his mental state or making sure he was eating. Of course the worries were still there, but the object of my anxiety was out of my reach. I wondered sometimes if he’d always be out of my reach.

  Alice had called a couple hours after Jason left, angry that I’d let him go, and I found myself arguing, using the reasoning Jason had given me. He was an adult. We had no authority over him to make him do anything. If he wanted to go out and help find the people who were after him, there was very little I could do to stop him. It did surprise me that he went out with Tony as his contact person, and I didn’t envy him working with my sister in the mood she was in. Tony was a nice guy and a good cop. In this case, he showed good judgment using Jason as a resource. As much as I would prefer Jason away from the dangerous elements of society, I knew he wanted to be involved. To help.

  And for now, all I could do was to be there when he came back. Hopefully not broken, as he had been last time. He’d been able to put the pieces back together after his traumatic childhood, and was working to piece himself together after Mason, but I wasn’t sure how much more he would be able to handle. Eventually he would think it was too much, and he’d be gone. He would take Sam and run to someplace where they would be safe.

  What would I do if he left? The way I was feeling right now, I’d probably follow him. Or try to convince him to stay. Of course I was aware that when he made up his mind to do something, it was quite hard to change it. If he decided to leave, and that he didn’t want me with him, I would have to respect his wishes. But that wasn’t anything I needed to think about yet. He hadn’t made any move to show that he wanted to run away; instead, he was pushing to act more normal. Something he knew little about considering how he was raised, and the power he wielded.

  When I realized I’d been pacing aroun
d the house for the past hour, I decided it was time to get out and do something. I could act normal too, for at least an afternoon. That the friend I’d called happened to be Dustin didn’t mean I wanted to spend the day talking about Jason, it just meant that I thought he too needed an ordinary activity once in a while.

  I kept trying to distract myself, but my mind kept drifting toward wondering what Jason had told Dustin during their talks. I wanted to know whether my college friend knew more about my best friend than I did, or if Jason had stayed bottled up, and told Dustin nothing. Somehow I thought Jason may have opened up to him, at least about some things, since there were times when Dustin acted like he now understood more about why Jason acted in certain ways in some situations. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but I didn’t think so.

  I opened the door as I saw Dustin’s car pulling into the driveway. He gave me a slightly surprised look when I climbed into the passenger seat before he even shut off the car. “Hannah, everything okay?”

  “Sure. I just didn’t want to sit in the house anymore.” He shot me a knowing look, but thankfully said nothing. Searching for a topic that wouldn’t involve Jason or the case he was currently working, I finally came up with, “How’d you do on your finals?”

  That led to several minutes of conversation about the end of the school year, what we were planning for next year, and how we thought our other friends had done. We were sitting in the park talking about nothing when someone approached us. I stood back slightly, not sure who it was or if he was a threat. “Can I help you?” Dustin asked, not in his most friendly voice, but not coldly either. The man looked worried about something, and he didn’t want to be mean to someone who might need help.