by Unknown
“Anything you didn’t bring?” Brody asked, with a twang of jealousy, knowing the only thing he’d remembered to pack came from two days earlier when he’d cleaned out the trunk and restacked his snack bag, which he knew didn’t contain more than an apple and two protein bars. He suddenly hated himself for trying to stick to things too healthy. He’d kill for one of the stuffed tuna sandwiches Bryce was in the process of unwrapping, slices of tomatoes and cheese falling from its side and into the bag. Had he not been starving, he’d have thrown Bryce out of the car for stinking it up with tuna, or food in general. There was a no-food policy in his vehicle, that’s why his snack bag was placed in the trunk. Back there he used both the leaf blower and his high-suction vacuum machine when pebbles or dirt came in contact with the upholstery. If worse, he pulled on his elbow-high rubber gloves and with the help of a rough brush and foam cleanser scrubbed the car sterile. Clean meant his UV black light couldn’t detect a substance. If it could, the process started over. Now, looking over at Bryce, he saw his UV light would have a field day.
“Instead of drooling, you can just ask me,” Bryce replied and took another hefty bite out his sandwich.
“Fine,” Brody grunted, and knew if he didn’t eat soon, he’d kill someone, and it wouldn’t look good having killed your best mate and the town’s EMT. Instead he swallowed his pride and asked for a sandwich.
“It’s not like you being so unorganized, Brody, and forgetting to pack something to eat.” Brody’s ears heated and when he glanced over, Bryce smiled and looked out the window. Instead he turned his focus back onto the task at hand.
“We’ll stake a claim today and you’ll use a Taser,” Brody said, pushing his sunglasses onto his nose, staring at the road ahead.
“Such a way of telling stories, Brody. Just missing a few details in the plot. Who am I tasing and what’s the wager?”
Brody pulled his boot off the gas pedal to hand over his cell phone opened to an email he’d received from Melanie Orchard last night. Bryce grabbed the phone from Brody’s hand, trading it for a sandwich, and read in silence.
“The guy she filed the claim against is a cop. He took time off and Melanie traced his cell phone to twenty miles ahead of us.”
“Correct,” Brody answered between bites of Bryce’s deliciously made tuna melt sandwich.
“Wow, Melanie is some hacker.”
“You haven’t even heard the best yet.”
“Go on.”
“Anthony Haines,” Brody pointed at the name of the cop Sunshine wasn’t too pleased about, “has had his computer confiscated by the FBI as evidence in a human trafficking case. He already knows he has nothing to which he can return and my guess is he will go full out on whatever plan he’s created.”
“So passing the border into Canada and finding a buyer is a human trade-off for her backstabbing him with a report, you mean.”
“Exactly.”
“Hmpf,” Bryce muttered and stared out the window. “She’s a pretty good target. Beautiful, unattached, somewhat isolated, and almost broke. If I was in human trafficking, I’d pinpoint her, too. Especially with their background together.”
Brody swallowed and grabbed the steering wheel harder, the metal taste of blood running from inside his cheek to his tongue. Panic pumped the blood faster through his body until he stopped at the side and got out to pace the street before he sat down again.
“We will replace his buyer.” Brody stuck his head in the car window. “There is no other way around it. Let’s make the purchase and bring her back home.”
* * *
Sunshine rolled off the backseat and beat her back to the hard console, grunting in displeasure before the side door opened and Anthony Haines reached for her face, carrying a dark cloth in his hand. Not until it was too late did she realize what he was about to do, and too late had she pulled her head to the side and was now in the dark bag. The skin on her upper arms burned as he forced her out of the car until she felt hard pebbles scratching the sole of her bare feet. Her mind created illusory scenarios of where they were located, what color pebbles poked her feet, why she was dressed scantly, and where to put her foot next.
Haines breathed hard next to her ear. The incline was abrasive to her feet and repeated yelps escaped her lips. Yet, she refused to give in to his game, knowing he wanted her to feel pain. The world around them had noise, but of nothing she could recall.
Her feet jumped as cold water clashed against them and she retreated, only to be pushed forward, feeling the water line gradually ascend her skin. Inch by inch she felt the icy-cold water eat up her movement until it reached her midthighs. Haines skinny hand and long fingers felt like icicles clamped around her neck, pushing her forward. Sunshine knew, if she was going to die, here, she was going to give him a fight, and without knowing her surroundings took a leap of faith and threw herself away from Haines.
The cold water immediately soaked the dark cloth and she regretted her sudden outburst. With hands behind her back she suddenly had to decide which way to give in: to the water or to the reality above the surface. Before she had time to decide, two hands pulled her out of the water and with force tossed her onto what appeared to be a river bank. Rapid water gushed by her feet and everywhere the arctic water had touched it burned her skin.
Haines grabbed the wet shirt on her shaking shoulders and pulled her further up the incline until he stopped and leaned her back against the rough bark of a tree trunk.
“And now we wait.”
Only, Sunshine wasn’t sure for what.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rips of Velcro were the only sound echoing among the trees around the narrow clearing. Brody’s vest sat securely in place while he set Bryce’s in place, too. A hawk escaped a tall branch of a pine tree, its expansive wings giving a solid flap until it soared higher on the pale blue sky, hunting with sharp vision for a day’s prey. Brody noticed Bryce glancing down at the work he’d done at his chest and felt both proud and impressed knowing a person of such bravery and talent so closely.
Sure, he would never confess to any such thing, but a “twang” of appreciation for Bryce’s comradeship sat in his chest and warmed for a second until his cell phone came to life in his pocket and tossed a pail of ice-cold water on whatever feelings he had felt.
Brody pressed the phone to his ear, listening intently, and with a pen in hand he opened up the trunk of the car to grab a piece of the blank paper stacked to the side together with a variety of smaller office supplies that would make a secretary like Wendy immensely jealous. Had he not been in his officer uniform, people might have taken him for a traveling Staples salesperson. He closed the trunk and placed the paper on top of the cool polish and watched Bryce’s head shake from side to side in disbelief of what had just been revealed inside of the trunk. Brody glared and continued to listen to the voice on the phone, writing down information on the paper while he chewed lightly on the inside of his cheek. The metallic taste of blood seemed to be a daily occurance.
“You should see someone for that.” Brody ignored both Bryce’s comment and his finger pointing to the trunk of the car. Instead he waved him over with his pen and tapped the paper.
“This is the last gas station before the border. Three men will stop there. We need their vehicle. Understood?”
“Because?”
“Their GPS has a set destination point. Without it we won’t get what we want.”
“Your girl?”
“. . . right.”
“Sweet.”
Brody stared long and hard at Bryce, who chuckled and walked up to the car door. “You’re in love, my friend. Just admit it.”
Brody sat down in the front seat and revved up the engine, slightly harder than intended, before he took up the trail Melanie had given him. “Stop smiling, Bryce. I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you’re in love, but what you should tell me is how it happened that you took Sunshine’s shirt off.”
“Nothing to report.”
“I highly disagree. You haven’t had a heart since Fiona left you. About time you let this girl hew that boulder inside your chest and make something useful out of it.”
“First of all,” Brody held up his pointer finger while keeping his eyes on the road, as straight as an arrow shooting through the dense, dark forest. “Fiona didn’t leave me. I kicked her out. Secondly, I don’t love anyone.”
“Yeah, we all know that,” Bryce confessed, shaking his head. “You know, it doesn’t hurt to smile once in a while or say something nice. Or even make a call.”
Brody glanced at the side of his friend’s face. Agitated was an understatement, Bryce looked ready to explode. “If people could just do what they are supposed to I wouldn’t have to look so stern most of the time, but that never happens. And, I call.”
“Yeah, for this trip you did. Because for once you needed help and you didn’t want to be alone.”
“Take truth serum before this trip, Bryce?”
“Maybe I should have, this seems like the perfect opportunity for face-to-face emptying any cats we have in bags.”
“I don’t have cats or other animals in hiding.”
“Except the fact that you feel something for this woman, don’t you? Why else would you drive to fucking Canada and leave your work behind. You never leave your job. You work seven days straight, every week!” Bryce bellowed, and tossed his hands in the air before settling down, opening a soda can and indulging ravenously.
Brody drove in silence, glancing at Bryce every so often to make sure he didn’t suffocate himself on the amount of drinks and snacks still materializing from what seemed an extremely deep duffel bag. He knew the man could eat, looking not only at his physique, but also at the way he had been raised. Two brothers and one sister all fighting for the last piece of food in the house. If you didn’t eat fast, you didn’t eat at all. Surely, Bryce made up for that now.
Hours flew by, the horizon changed slightly from an ocean of birch and pine trees, to hills covered in dark rock, angry pines guarding the view ahead, to soft fields and bending streams. On some spots the road narrowed to a single lane only to open up wide yet again. Bryce had asked to stop twice and Brody couldn’t blame him. No bladder could hold what he had just witnessed Bryce inhale in both hunger and anger. Brody knew he pissed people off, but he couldn’t change it. His job told him to be of constant service to the community, to make people follow the law, and thus his brain seemed to forget to turn on the switch for smile. Fiona had once told him it seemed he was ready to murder someone by just staring at them, that he had only smiled once—the time his squad car had been repainted and a new computer installed. Not even in bed had he smiled, she said. But who smiles then, anyway, you’re too focused on other things. At least he was, probably still is, if he could just remember how to get into bed with someone.
“Ten more minutes, Bryce.”
“Until what? You haven’t said much and I have never used a Taser in my life.”
“Not hard to do, just aim and hold until the person goes to the ground.”
Bryce cracked his neck, shaking away mountains of tension growing within and exhaled a few long breaths. “Sorry, I lashed out. Didn’t mean any of it. Okay, I did mean it, but I wasn’t planning on making it come out the way it did. Okay?”
“Fine, let’s focus on this instead. I know I don’t smile and I’m content with that knowledge. The feeling should be mutual.”
“Deal. Now, let’s do this,” Bryce roared, and pounded his thighs for adrenaline.
The lone road became wider the closer they came to a lone neon sign ahead. Trees thinned out and within a few minutes the road divided itself, one for border patrol, one for the gas station and bistro. Last one standing before leaving the United States. And from what it looked like, possibly the last one standing as an ancient relic from the 1960s. Brody turned off the lights on the car and rolled the cruiser into park at the side of the old cabin-looking building, its wood stained in faded tomato red, colored windows shadowing the life within. Brody and Bryce watched as a meager number of vehicles made their way up to the four gas pumps to fill up their tanks before crossing the border, or cars having just rolled off Canadian soil on expensive gas fumes only to find financial relief on American ground.
After not too long, a cobalt Honda rolled into one of the vacant spots under the tall roof and Brody elbowed Bryce lightly. Without sharing a word, Bryce nodded and waited for another command to go into action. Brody gave none, instead he waited. He knew he had the patience to wait all night should he have to, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d done such a deed. When he was too pissed off after holidays, fed up with drunk people fighting in bars or people having a verbal dispute over the last stocking stuffer or Thanksgiving turkey in the store, he’d set up a roadblock at the very end of Main Street, where most people had a lead foot, and deliver sheets of ticket. He’d cook himself vegetable soup and brew himself a tall thermos of coffee and stay seated all night inside his heated cruiser. The only downside was the pain he’d have to withstand the days after. A sore reminder of not only his job but what his injury had done to his body. Still, he wouldn’t change it. Sometimes life sucked, although lately it had been sucking a lot.
Three men evacuated the vehicle at the pumps, circling it in what seemed like slow motion. Brody poked Bryce’s shoulder, pointing to the top of the tall roof, a camera facing down from one corner. “If they stay parked where they are, we need to look like them when we grab their car.”
They watched two of the men leave the vehicle behind, doughtily walking across the cement only to vanish from view and enter the log cabin. To Brody’s surprise the final man placed the gas handle back on the pump and in a few shorts beats joined the others inside.
“Change of plans,” Brody said, grabbing his rifle from between the seats and his bag from behind him in the backseat before opening his door and heading around to open Bryce’s. He watched Bryce’s face, which was part scared to death, part ready to follow his lead, before ushering him out of the cruiser and locking it behind him.
“This might save us some publicity,” he mentioned in haste and with the rifle held down by his leg, matching his urgent stride, he walked around the gas pumps until he came up to the blue Honda they’d just been watching. “No need to slow things down,” he continued, “get in the passenger seat and let’s go.”
The two jumped into the unlocked vehicle and to their fortune found the key still in place. The Honda revved to life and as Brody backed the car out of the vicinity, Bryce turned his face between the seats and whispered, “Three men are currently jogging down the cement walkway possibly yelling profanities. One is already pushing a phone to his ear.”
“You didn’t mention a weapon. That’s a good thing.”
“I guess so.”
“We could be dead by now, you know.”
“You actually thought we weren’t going to make it?”
Brody hunched his shoulder. “Could really have gone either way. Good thing we have vests.”
“But what if they’d aimed somewhere else but our chests?”
Brody sat silent for a minute before he answered. “Yeah, that wouldn’t have been so good.”
“I can’t believe you do these adventures daily not knowing if you’ll make it home at the end of the day. Hats off to you, man.”
Brody felt the friendly bump to his shoulder but somehow it rattled his entire insides. No one had ever given him a compliment for the job he did every day, not Fiona, not his parents. Yet, he loved the job. Unless Sunshine pleaded him to. Where the hell did that come from? Brody tried to swallow but his mouth only found dust.
“Drink this and calm down. You look like you’re about to have a panic attack or something. You’re eyes are the size of golf balls and you’re white as a ghost. Chill, I promise I won’t say anything sentimental again.”
Anxiety spread but fortunately Brody found something to do, fidget
ing with the GPS in the car.
“For both our safety, Officer, I should handle the technical equipment while your eyes stay on the road. At this speed one wrong turn would mean we’d be mashed-up Honda soup similar to the couple I picked up last week from an intersection. No can do.”
Brody pushed down the gas pedal of the four-cylinder car and prayed another cop wouldn’t be hiding somewhere nearby, as he would have been.
“The GPS has two different end destinations, Brody. Which one do you think we should follow?”
“Where are they located?”
“One is another border entrance, the other a road with a number.”
“The sole number and road, only an idiot would try to create a hostage situation close to border patrol officers.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was morning. Birds sang in the trees and meadows, but Sunshine was still sound asleep, happily dreaming that the window to her room was open and cheerful birds played around her bed. Suddenly, there in her dream was Brody, his back against her, unbuttoning his uniform, a shoulder baring itself, then another, until the shirt fell onto a nearby chair. “Sunny,” he whispered. “Do you want me?”
“Yes, I do,” she said. Then a cold rush of water washed her dream away and in surprise she scrambled against the wall of the cabin, noticing where she was. She looked around. “Oh,” she panted heavily, holding her hand to her chest, noting her handcuffs were still in place. No wonder she hadn’t been able to defend herself against the cold shower that had shaken her from a night’s unruly sleep.
“About time you get up.” A door slammed shut and in a few heartbeats it reopened and she was met by another cascade of icy water until her T-shirt was soaked through.