Red on the Run (The Syndicate-Born Trilogy Book 1)
Page 28
His puffy red eyes, and the distant way he looked at her, sent a chill down her spine. His crisp gray suit was the one she’d bought him for his great aunt’s funeral. His mouth moved, but it was as if someone had turned the sound off.
The only thing she heard was a deafening ringing in her ears.
He’s gone.
He wouldn’t be returning her phone call this time. Her best friend in the whole world was gone and she hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. Her pride and anger with him had ended up robbing her of sharing his last moments on Earth with him.
As the realization sank in, she collapsed, blacking out.
***
Charles MacAvoy’s Estate
Danville Virginia
February 9, 2009
4:00 PM
~~~
Charles entered his home, and would-be prison for the next twenty years, with no small amount of apprehension. Though he had only been in jail a short time, he had already started to hear some buzz that The Syndicate was trying to get things up and running again. They were looking for new management.
From behind him came the sound of heels clicking on the steel gray tile of his entryway. His very hot and very capable lawyer, Penelope Eakins, Esq., stepped into his line of vision, and his heart started to race.
“I have all the paperwork on the short sale. The house is officially yours. Congratulations.” She handed him the paperwork. “I also have the paperwork back from the security detail you had put on your ex-wife.” She handed him another envelope.
“How is she?”
“Not well.” Her plump red lips formed a thin line.
“Is there anything more I can do?”
Penelope shook her head. “No, she needs time, something you can’t really give her. The FBI will push for her to get some counseling, but really it will just take time.”
“Any news on Scott?”
Penelope crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Yes, there was a fight at the prison this morning that resulted in one of the kingpins being stabbed with a shiv. No one can prove it, of course, but word is that Scott Mitchel was behind it.”
Charles’ stomach flip-flopped as he turned on the four o’clock news.
“Channel 12 News, The News Channel You Can Trust!
“Good evening everyone. Our top story of the night sounds a bit like a daytime soap opera. Today the prosecution revealed the identity of their secret witness in The Syndicate trial. The witness is none other than Officer Tom Mitchel, father of Senator Mitchel and Special Agent Katherine Mitchel, who was thought to have died in a car bomb explosion several years ago. The prosecution would not comment about Officer Mitchel’s testimony or his supposed return from the dead.
“Katherine Mitchel, whose husband, Special Agent Alexander Bailey, died as a result of a gunshot wound on the courtroom steps, was exempt from giving her testimony due to an undisclosed medical problem. Her deposition, which was given over the summer, was used in court this morning. Her testimony corroborated that of Charles MacAvoy.”
Charles turned off the TV and turned to his lawyer. “Are you staying tonight?”
She carefully toed off her expensive shoes. “Yes.”
He nonchalantly tossed the paperwork on the bare floor, and kissed her.
***
Alex and Katherine’s Apartment
Alexandria, Virginia
March 28, 2009
7:00 AM
~~~
Katherine sat at her kitchen table with her cup of English breakfast tea and the day’s paper. The early morning sun shone through the shear curtains in the kitchen, and the weight of her grief didn’t seem as heavy that day. She had gotten dressed and combed her hair—an improvement over recent times.
Betty and Jason would be pleased. They had been tag-teaming her all winter to make sure she was okay.
She had Skyped a few times with the psychiatrist she’d spoken with over the summer, but mostly the passage of time alone had slowly begun to eat away the tethers of her grief. She knew Alex would want her to be strong and move on—for the sake of the baby.
She opened up the paper and read the front page headlines, all about The Syndicate. The detailed articles almost glorified the defendants, who had all received guilty verdicts. The author of one article speculated that her brother and some of the other high-level members of the group could each face up to ten years of prison time. Her brother’s sentence would be added to the two years he got for shooting Jason and Lisa. Her sister-in-law was still awaiting trial for shooting Alex—that would now be a murder rap.
Katherine still received death threats but was well-guarded at all times. Charles, whose business had been doing well, hired a state-of-the-art security team to install a high-tech security system. She chafed at his continued involvement in her life. Of everyone involved, he seemed to be the only one who came out on top, and she hated him for it.
She stretched out on the couch—too tired to do anything else—and fell into a deep sleep with her hand cradling her seven-month bump.
She awoke with a start when a contraction gripped her like a vise. She clutched her belly and sucked in a breath. “Oh, Jesus, no.”
The guards posted outside her door rushed in at the sound of her cry. One of the men picked her up and carried her down to the car while another called Betty.
When they arrived at the hospital, her contractions were gripping every five minutes. They gave her medicine to help the baby’s lungs.
Once she had been admitted, they hooked her up to the contraction and fetal heart rate monitors—they were piggy-backing one on top of the other.
When Betty arrived, Katherine had entered into transition labor. “I’m here, love.” Betty rubbed Katherine’s back.
Tears streamed down Katherine’s cheeks. “It’s too early, Betty.”
The older woman continued to rub her back and remind her to breathe.
Thirty minutes later, Katherine felt the hard pull to push. Her room was a flurry of activity, which acted as background noise to the clamber of worries and concern racing through her mind.
One hour later, Bailey came into the world at 2 pounds, 15 ounces. Katherine cried for the both of them.
***
Danville Press
Danville, Virginia
June 7, 2009
1:00 PM
~~~
Jason unbuttoned his suit coat as he stalked into his office with a huff. The door bounced against the frame as he slammed it shut.
Scotch!
He yanked open his desk drawer, pulled out a bottle, threw the lid across the floor, and drank straight from the bottle.
No one should ever have to bury a child. No one!
Through the whole service, all the way up until they lowered the baby into the ground beside his father, Katherine had been a pillar of strength. Then the gears had ticked off each inch of ground as the casket was lowered, and she began to cry.
She didn’t wail or wretch at her clothes or throw herself onto the tiny casket. No, she stood there with silent tears sliding down her reddened cheeks. It was almost worse that way.
He took long gulps of the burning scotch and felt his own tears start to fall.
The door to his office swung open with a flourish, and Lisa and Marianna walked in arm-in-arm with another bottle of scotch and three solo cups. “We thought we’d join you.”
Jason sighed as the two women made themselves at home. They had been doing that a lot lately. While he was touched by their concern, he really did want to be alone.
Lisa gave him a knowing smile. “You’re not getting rid of us Knettle, so ya might as well get comfortable.”
“Being my mother hen isn’t in your job description.”
“Sure it is. It’s part of that Other Duties line item.”
Jason chuffed out a laugh. “Oh, is that what that means. I thought it meant I could make you scrub toilets and shit like that.”
Lisa tossed a cup at Jason, hitting him squa
re in the head. “Let’s get drunk, Boss.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
***
FBI Headquarters: Hoover Building
Washington, D.C.
June 7, 2009
10:00 AM
~~~
Ellie had been besotted with grief the night she tried to take her life. It was her last-ditch effort to escape her perceived failure to bring a child into the world. She could find no hope in a world where her children could not live beside her.
Christopher had wanted them to work it out together, but she wanted nothing to do with him. Every time she saw him, she saw her boys—boys who’d never taken a breath outside her body, who would never nurse from her breast, crawl on the wood floors of their home, learn to ride a bike, go to school, marry, or have children of their own. The vast void of their unrealized possibilities suffocated her.
She left the hospital, Chris moved out, she returned to work and began to live a life that somewhat resembled the one she had lived before. At the most random times, memories of Alex would haunt her. In the valley of her grief, she hadn’t seen that dawn was beginning to break, and that Katherine’s friendship could be the catalyst she needed to turn her life around.
She had heard the rumors around the Bureau when Katherine’s son was born too early. She had even pitched in when a collection envelope was passed around.
A few weeks later, when Katherine’s file fell on her desk and she read the mandatory counseling form her superior had filled out, her heart shattered. Though she knew it was wrong, she made room in her schedule to take her on as a client.
Chapter 24
US DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
Federal Bureau of Investigation
---
Dr. Elliana Forester
FBI Employee Assistance Program
Therapy Notes
---
June 27, 2009
---
First session notes: Katherine E.
---
Katherine E. presents as a 35-year-old Caucasian female, recently widowed, who has worked for the FBI for 12 years and was an integral part of a large 30-year+ investigation of a crime ring. Katherine E.’s chief complaint is stated as anxiety and depression after the recent loss of her infant son. The infant died as a result of Respiratory Distress Syndrome. She doesn’t give a name for the infant, but instead refers to him as “my son.” She has been having trouble sleeping, and when she does sleep has violent nightmares regarding her involvement in the recently concluded investigation.
She says: “I see red. Blood. Red blood. It’s everywhere, and I can’t find the baby.”
She states that she had been asked by her superiors, out of concern for her well-being, to take advantage of the FBI’s EAP. Her progress in our sessions will dictate whether or not she is allowed to work in the field.
She is resistant, stating that, “I don’t see how being here is going to make anything better. Not that I don’t think you’re good at your job.”
Katherine E. stated that she has suffered from insomnia and depression on and off. She is a recovering alcoholic and proudly stated that she has been sober for 12 years. Her father had been murdered on the job in a car bombing, but was recently found to be very much alive. She currently doesn’t have any relationship with her mother, who has been in and out of institutions for most of her adult life. Her sister was murdered and her twin brother is currently in prison.
Katherine E. stated that she has always been able to do her job regardless of what stress she had in her personal and professional life. She does not mention anything about her recently deceased husband.
Katherine E. is not oriented to person, appearing instead to be oriented to place and time. Her thinking is clear but not always linear. Her memory does not appear adequate. Affect is guarded, and sometimes it appeared she was fighting back tears when talking about her infant son.
Supported client in positive coping skills. Will be using a mixture of dialectic behavioral therapy (DBT) and cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT).
Possibly suicidal. Will see client two times a week to increase coping skills and create a positive support system.
~~~
Ellie finished typing the last of the report for Katherine’s file and heaved a great sigh. She should assign Katherine to a different therapist, as there were so many things wrong about having Katherine as a client, she couldn’t even begin to count them. Yet no matter how wrong it was, she just couldn’t turn her away.
For one hour, she was Doc again... and that meant everything to her.
***
Church Hill Neighborhood
Richmond, Virginia
May 3, 2011
11:00 PM
~~~
“Let me help you with that.” Katherine took the empty beer bottles and placed them in the recycle bin.
Ellie turned off the TV and followed her into the kitchen. “Where do you think Jason went off to? Think he’s seeing someone?”
Katherine put their dishes in the sink. “I don’t know. Has he said anything to you?”
Ellie shook her head and bit her bottom lip. They were both avoiding discussing the things truly on their minds, avoidance was a coping mechanism they shared.
“What about you?” Ellie picked stray popcorn bits up off her shirt. “Have you and Ben gone out again?”
Katherine washed the last bowl and put it in the drying rack, and paused.
Ellie saw her cheeks turn pink; Ben was the first guy Katherine had seen more than once. “Yeah, we’re going out tomorrow night.”
Ellie smiled. “Good. I like him. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He is. When does the moving truck come tomorrow?”
“Noon.” Ellie looked down at the kitchen floor. It was dirty.
“What’s wrong?” Katherine asked.
“All the memories I’ve had in this kitchen. I need to get out of here and start fresh—for my own sanity—but leaving is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“Well, Jason and I will keep it in tiptop shape, so if you ever want to move back, the place will be yours. Maybe with roommates, but yours all the same.”
Ellie laughed. It was a comfort to her that Katherine and Jason would be living in the house while she was in Texas. For the last six months, they had all lived together, a motley crew, but it had been far and away one of the happiest times of her life.
Katherine wiped her hands with the dishtowel. “You’re not packing the new TV-VCR thing you just got?”
Ellie bit her lip and answered. “No, I don’t need it anymore.”
Katherine’s nose scrunched up in the way that it always did when something didn’t make sense to her.
Ellie sighed and sank into one of the kitchen chairs.
“What?” Katherine pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
Just like Alex used to.
“It’s silly, really. I was going through all my old stuff and deciding what to toss, what to sell, and what I wanted to keep. One of the boxes in the back of the attic had old videos, like of my med school graduation. One of them was from when Chris and I were in Iraq, when I was pregnant the first time—the year I met Alex. Chris had been over the moon about the baby and filmed us constantly.”
Katherine looked down at her hands clasped on top of the wooden table. “Oh....”
Ellie exhaled a trembling breath. “I had forgotten what his voice sounded like. I guess I just needed to hear him call me Doc... one more time.”
Katherine buried her face in her hands.
Ellie sniffed as she got up from her chair and walked around to sit beside Katherine. She wrapped her arms around her friend. “I’m sorry.”
Katherine looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Don’t be sorry, Ellie. I’m just jealous of all the time you got to spend with him. I sometimes feel foolish because we weren’t even together a year. I wonder if he had lived if we could have made it work, or if how I felt about him would have les
sened over time. Is that weird?”
Ellie looped her arm with Katherine’s and buttressed her head up against her friend. “No, honey, that’s not weird at all.”
Katherine leaned into her and sighed. “I am happy, Ellie, even though I didn’t think I ever would be. But... I get the feeling that you aren’t.”
Ellie swiped the tears from her cheeks and chuckled. “Whatever gives you that idea?”
Katherine laughed a little and snuggled in closer. “I love you, Ellie, and I want you to be happy. I’m not thrilled that you’re moving a thousand miles away, but I do understand the need to get away.”
Ellie’s heart leaped in her chest. “I love you, Katherine, and I’m going to miss you, too. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Katherine smiled her sweet Pollyanna-esque smile that always warmed Ellie’s heart. “You would get on just fine without me. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Ellie almost believed her.
***
Mary Martha Chapel
Richmond, Virginia
June 20, 2015
3:00 PM
~~~
Katherine stood in front of a full-length mirror to check her makeup and make adjustments to her small veil. The cream-colored wraparound dress showed off her athletic form. Even at forty, she had still managed to look fit—something she was proud of. A floating pearl necklace adorned her pale neck, and she had to force herself to keep from touching it.
As she was applying her lipstick, her best friend, a vision in pale yellow, filled the background of the mirror. The lipstick shook in her trembling hand, giving away her true feelings.
“You look beautiful, but if you keep shaking like that you’re going to look like the Joker,” Ellie said with a twinkle in her eye.
Katherine caught Ellie’s gaze in the reflection of the mirror, and her own eyes started to pool. She turned to face her friend and they embraced. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing, Ellie.”
“Oh, Katherine, love, I wish that I could, but only you can know that.” Ellie squeezed her tight.
As they pulled out of the embrace, Ellie reached in Katherine’s bag for a tissue, but found instead a handkerchief with the initials A.B. After a short pause, she handed it to her friend.