Special Agent Charli

by Mimi Barbour

  “See, that’s what I noticed. Two friendly, even affectionate, girls behaving the way young teenagers do who’ve lacked their family’s attention.”

  Charli gaped at the man beside her. “And you know that how?”

  “I spend a lot of my spare time at the gym and work out with the kids. Most seasons, I teach defensive training classes for a mixed group of middle-aged gems. I get to see a lot of interaction, and I’d say a lot of Angie’s reserve is because she’s been trained to be seen and not heard.”

  “So, she makes sure that what you see is outrageous and shocking, her way of saying screw you.” That made a lot of sense. Charli looked toward the patio, through the sliding glass doors and saw the girls standing together, holding hands, ready to dive in. Straggly pink spikes contrasted to Kayla’s black hair… one bright sunrise, the other dark night.

  Angie, cute and short, beside Kayla’s longer, slender body caught the eye. And the differences in their dress code had stuck out too.

  On purpose, Charli had allowed Kayla full choice when they’d shopped, and the girl had a natural chic that had her picking classier outfits rather than garishly modern. Not so for Angie. Her jeans had so many rips across the front that most of her tanned legs were on display all the way up to her crotch.

  Oh stop fretting like an old mother hen. Opposites attract – it’s a slogan because it’s true.

  Changing the subject, Charli turned to Blake who’d moved to stand nearby. “Truthfully, most nights I dread you showing up, uninvited I may add, but tonight your shenanigans – teasing the girls and telling those crazy stories – helped everyone relax. Thank you for that.”

  “Aww Charli, you know I have to come to get a change of clothes and check in. Besides, I’d miss your sweetness if I skipped a night. I even had you laughing earlier. Admit it, you like having me here.”

  “I liked seeing Angie let loose, even though she is flirtatious to a fault. Man, she’s only fourteen. I bet I never acted like that.”

  “Whoa-ho. I’d put my money on it.” His teasing grin made her laugh. She jumped down and pushed him in a friendly way, but with a warning he couldn’t ignore. He’d let his body brush up against hers too often to be coincidental. The room was just not that small. “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know.”

  “Nope.”

  “Do so.”

  He laughed. “All I know is this is one of the weirdest conversations we’ve had, and there’ve been some doozies.”

  “Stop rubbing against me.” He’d purposely done so again, and she pushed harder, only this time he didn’t move.

  “You think I’m doing it on purpose? Honey if I wanted to get close to you, I’d just do this.” He whipped her around before she escaped, his arms gathering her in close. Hungrily, he growled a groan that resonated throughout her body, igniting every cell from the top of her curly head to the tips of her pink-painted toenails.

  She shoved against his chest with a lackadaisical effort he totally ignored. “Stop, you’re being a pest.”

  His hands moved to her face, his palms warm and gentle. “No.” He kissed her forehead first and rubbed his nose against hers.

  If he’d tried any other kind of foreplay, forced himself on her in any way, her defenses would have kicked in. He’d have found himself writhing on the ground.

  But the crafty bastard must have sensed that her one weakness was a gentle hand, a sweet kiss… a meaningful murmur. Frozen, she closed her eyes and allowed the seduction to continue.

  Waiting for his lips to finally capture hers, she experienced passionate participation in her lower body. Muscles clenched enticingly. Signals of arousing spasms slithered to attack her mushy brain. And while her legs turned to sticks of jelly, a damp welcoming oozed from the throbbing area between them that begged for attention.

  Before she could plead for mercy, to give her what her whole being craved, sanity returned, and she wrenched away. “Stop it! Go find one of your Candy’s to play with. I’m not your type.”

  Silence boomed. Would he react badly? Or accept her rejection? She waited, fearing she might have pushed him too far.

  Bending, hiding his arousal by leaning against the island, his tone held no anger. Instead he teased, murmuring in a husky voice, “A fellow gets kinda sick of all that meaningless sugar. After a while, he needs some sour in his life to offset so much sweetness.”

  The crafty bastard had her. No way she’d respond.

  Again silence reverberated. This time it appeared less tense.

  He broke it first. “So, did the girls have fun at the mall today?”

  “Yes, they mentioned it at dinner, which, unsurprisingly, you arrived for just in time.”

  “Must have been before I got here. And I did bring dessert. You know, Kayla invited me yesterday, wanted me here to share the meal. Didn’t she tell you? She asked me so I could meet her new friend.”

  “No, she never mentioned it.” Her vexation appearing once again, she grumbled, “Stop trying to hold my hand.” Charli yanked the object under discussion away from him. “I have a feeling you put the words in her mouth, something you’re good at I noticed.”

  “Ah! You notice me. I’m flattered.”

  Groaning, Charli pointed her finger in his face. “See, there you go again; defining things in such a way you know aren’t true.” After he kissed her finger, she looked up as if praying for tolerance. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what? Wanting you? Can’t do that. I’d have to quit breathing first.”

  “Okay. That works for me.” She threw him an evil grin and put the counter between them. Becoming serious, and changing the subject back to what bothered her most, she added, “Did you pick up any strange vibes from Angie?”

  “You mean like she’s a flirt?”

  “Not just that. I must say, though, you handled her obvious eyelash-batting very well… and without embarrassing her.” Once spoken, Charli had to admit the truth of her words. Blake had been kind, even gentle with the girl’s ploys that left no awkwardness.

  “Wow, a compliment!” His green bewitchers caught and held hers until her heartbeats tripled, and her hands began to tremble. Damn stress. He just has to look at me, and I’m a mad mess.

  Needing the upper hand again, she spoke and dissipated the magic, “Angie has obvious baggage, and I’m worried about Kayla getting caught up in it. She’s fragile.”

  “I don’t see that. I see a strong sense of right and wrong and a huge heart undamaged by her past. Gotta tell you, I’m beginning to care about that girl one hell of a lot more than I should. I’m thinking to stay in her world after all this nonsense has passed. Figure she’ll need friends, and I can be a good friend, it’s something you don’t know about me.”

  Shocked, she asked, “You mean you’ll adopt her?” She scoffed. “Like the courts will allow a bachelor like you to take on the care of a girl her age?”

  He stiffened. “I didn’t say adopt, though it’s a thought. And you seem to have a slightly skewed impression of my reputation in Fort Lauderdale. I’m a respected Major, and the many years that led to me attaining this level were spent serving the public. So you know; I’m held in high regard throughout this area.”

  Suddenly, the playboy faded and Charli faced the man behind the badge, the professional who’d earned the right to supervise a large department. This man had charisma, sure, because of his handsome face and well-formed physique, but more importantly, he had a no-nonsense manner that anyone faced with his powerful presence would respect and obey.

  He interrupted her unsettling reflection. “I’m becoming very fond of Kayla. I’d hate to see her being returned to the system.”

  Backing off, her respect for the man taking a sudden upward curve, she changed the subject. “Is there any word on Dylan Ross?”

  “The trail is as cold as my favorite maple-walnut ice cream. Interpol’s now involved, along with all the local agencies where he’s managed to make a kill and get
away. No one’s had any sightings. I’ve got a file so big it’s overflowing, yet there’s nothing concrete we can check. It’s frustrating as hell.”

  Charli felt her nerves begin to react. “That son of a bitch is a menace. Look, there’s no doubt he’d be after a witness who can ID him. He’s gotta be trying to find out where Kayla’s hiding.”

  “I know. It’s eerie. Other than a mass shooting in the industrial section near the airport yesterday that caught my attention, nothing’s happened out of the norm.”

  “A mass shooting? Was it a professional job?”

  “It had all the markings. The cold-blooded shooter eliminated three men in a bar, but it made no sense.”

  Blake’s perplexing comment urged Charli to request more details. “What happened?”

  “Well, this guy walked into Freddie’s, a kind of honky-tonk hangout for bikers, and shot three people. The only thing tying the massacre to your case was that all three bullets were targeted in the forehead.”

  “Any witnesses?”

  “One man, an accountant-type doing the books in the back for free drinks, didn’t see anything, he only heard the shots.”

  “And, no doubt, dove for cover.”

  “Seems to be the case. Says he hid in the closet they use as a filing cabinet until he knew the coast was clear. Then he called 9-1-1.”

  “And he had no idea why these people were killed?”

  “Nope. But he admitted that Freddie, the bigot who owned the pub, made enemies from being a racist prick who’d often tell people he didn’t want to serve to fuck off. His guess was that the killer could have been a black man who didn’t take kindly to being called names and told to leave.”

  “A black man?”

  “That’s what he figures.”

  “Well, shit!”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  After the house settled, Blake collected clean clothes and left. The girls finally settled in Kayla’s room. And, Charli lay in her bed, her suspense novel thrown aside. She couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was the incident Blake described just before he’d said goodnight.

  A black man executed three others. Could that be their killer? Could he have reached Fort Lauderdale because he knew Kayla was close? Should they move on somewhere else?

  She’d asked Blake the same questions but he’d said to give it a couple of days. They were still hot on this killer’s trail, checking all the videos they could gather from around the isolated bar, interrogating their useless witness in case he’d missed something, and working the crime scene for any evidence.

  Unsettled, she rose to do one last walk around the inside of the house, checked all the windows, tightened the latches and double-checked to be sure the security system was activated and the screens were clear.

  Then she returned to her room, slid back into bed and turned on the baby monitor as per her nightly routine.

  Settling under the covers, she suddenly remembered their visitor and reached to turn it off. Surely Kayla wouldn’t have bothered using it tonight. Then she realized the girl had forgotten… or had she? Hearing Angie’s words froze her hand in midair, and she listened. Any rights to privacy vanished after she heard the first few words.

  “Look at this palace. Compared to you, I live in a shitty world, Kayla. I used to plan my death, like, you know, a celebration. Eat my last dinner of steak and ice cream. Then cut off all my hair and leave a note for the authorities to give it to some poor cancer victim. Ask them to pass on my body parts to those sick people who really want to live. And then take a handful of opioids, those fucking pills my mom gobbles down that turns her into a useless blob.”

  Agitated, her voice full of tears, Kayla’s whimpers of pity tore Charli apart. Eyes full after hearing Angie’s heart-wrenching statement, she’d had to cover her mouth so her reaction wouldn’t tip off the girls that they had an eavesdropper. Completely mesmerized, she continued to listen.

  “Angie, you can’t do that. Please, please don’t. We’re friends now, you’re not alone anymore.”

  “Man, I still can’t believe how you stood up for me with those skanks at the school that day, and you being the new girl. Man, you sure had them mesmerized when you threatened to call your sister’s fiancé, a Major with the FLPD, and blab about the bullshit bullying that goes on in that dump and how the authorities turn a blind eye. You even made Vice Principle Miller back off and take our side. It was sweet. No one’s ever done that for me before.”

  Charli made a grimace about the reference to her so-called fiancé but stayed glued to the conversation, a glow of pride igniting about Kayla taking a stand. The more time she spent with the teen, the more she became invested. The steel-enforced heart she only allowed air when she was with her gramps, had begun to beat in rhythm when she was with her protégé. Not sure how she felt about that, she stopped worrying and tuned in as the girls began talking again.

  “Shitters, Angie, you looked so… oh crap, I don’t know, mean, scared, like you didn’t care what they did to you, but mostly, you looked… a-alone. You know? It really sucked.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That grabbed me. Maybe ‘cause I’ve been there. I know your life’s harsh right now, Angie, but you can make it better. Listen, an honest old lady once told me this a while back. Shocked the shit out of me, but her brutal words rang true. No one gives a fuck about you. Everyone’s too busy caring about their own shit. So, if you don’t give a fuck either, you’ll be lost, forgotten… end up a loser like so many others.” Covers rustling made Charli think that one of the girls moved. “Don’t you see? It’s up to us to work hard, make something of ourselves and escape these crap lives we’re in right now.”

  “Crap lives? You’re talking crazy, dude. You have a sister you love, you live in a palace. Hold it! I’m not being a bitch, it’s true. You have Charli and Blake on your side. Any blind fool can see they care about you. You’re lucky. No one… and I mean no one… gives a flying fuck about me.”

  “I do.” The sob in Kayla’s voice came through, adding a compassionate resonance that rang with sincerity. “I care,” she said in a soft, loving tone as if she needed the other girl to hear, to believe… to care, too.

  “Oh God, Kayla. I prayed for help. Don’t ever tell anyone I said this, but I can’t take this shit any longer. I cut myself over and over, praying He’d see me and do something.”

  “I saw those marks on your thighs, Angie. They’re horrible. Stop it. They won’t help. Maybe God sent me to be your friend, to help you escape.”

  “Escape? Are you fucking kidding me? That fat slob will never let me go. Besides, I have an issue that’s stopped me from running so many times. You want to hear something really pathetic? I’m terrified of the dark. I mean, I can’t breathe petrified. Last month, I did run and lasted three hours on the streets before I crawled back to the hellhole and got the shit beat outta me for getting home so late. I knew then, I was stuck. And things have gone way past the point where I can survive.”

  “You’ve got to. We’ll make a plan. Charli will help you. I know she will. Just give it a bit more time.”

  “I can’t. It’s so painful. What that bastard does when he comes to my room. I’ve tried to fight him off but he’s so much stronger. And the sick pervert forces me to do things I can’t even tell you about. I hate him, and I hate her for not stopping him. God, I’m so full of hate that I hate myself most of all. Oh, Kayla, I’m sorry. Look, stop crying. I’ll shut the fuck up. Stop it. You’re breaking my heart.”

  Charli held her hand over her mouth and ran to the bathroom. Tears streaming, her heart in a mad mess from hearing those heartbreaking words, she barely made it behind the closed door before the reaction to Angie’s allegations took over.

  Oh my God!

  Sickened beyond her ability to cope, she let loose – cried, hurled and bashed her fist against the sink in disgust. It took some time before she could blow her nose and shed the soft-hearted feelings of compassion. Eventually, her t
ough FBI code of ethics took over. Then and there, she made herself, and Angie, a promise.

  Vile pricks like that bastard needed payback.

  And she was just the girl to do it.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The next morning, after a nice breakfast that Kayla and Angie lightheartedly prepared, Charli purposely forced the issue to drive Angie home. Angie’s attitude toward Charli had thawed slightly since the day before, but her dead-eyed look would still freeze-frame a more tender, kindly soul.

  “I don’t need a ride. I can walk. I want to walk.”

  “Tough. I intend to drive you home, kid, and that’s that.”

  As they approached Angie’s home and pulled to the ditch in front, Charli gave Kayla the warning look they both recognized. “I’m going in with Angie. Lock the car doors. And in case you feel the need, I left something for you in the glove box.” This statement made no sense to Angie, but Kayla’s expression took on a serious edge, and she nodded. Message received. She had protection.

  Though both of the girls had stiffened with surprise, Kayla, used to taking orders from Charli, said nothing. Whereas, Angie tried to talk and got cut off. She finally shrugged and gave in.

  “This won’t take long.” For the first time ever, Charli intended to leave Kayla in the car, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d be safer here. Meanwhile, she escorted Angie to her door.

  As they walked up the cracked sidewalk together, Charli saw the disrepair of the older home, the missing lawn replaced by weeds, rocks and dirt. The stringy sheet half-hanging in the dirty window, the broken-down steps leading to the door, adding to the appearance of a place no one cared about. Moving forward, she made sure that Angie stayed behind her.

  As they reached the front door, she warned the startled girl, her voice firm, hard, no compromise at all. “You do exactly what I tell you, kiddo. Exactly. Got it?”

  Stunned, Angie stared at her, a worried, scared look appearing. “Yeah, sure. What’s up, Charli?”