Vanguard Security

by S. J. Bishop

  MARTIN

  “Hey guys,” I said loud enough to interrupt the serious conversation about steak temperature that I’d heard from across the field. “Need help?”

  They both stopped and smiled at me. Commander Phillips clapped a hand on Cruz’s shoulder and said, “Just teaching this youngster how to properly grill a porterhouse.”

  Cruz returned the shoulder grab and smiled. “And I’m just showing this old coot what a real steak looks like, not a chewy old tire like he’s used to.”

  Both men laughed, and the tension fizzled.

  “How’s married life treating you?” Cruz handed me a beer.

  “Much better than the single life ever did.” I popped the top with my thumbnail and took a long, cold swig. Just what I needed to clear the fog of no sleep in my head.

  “Looking forward to next week?” Cruz’s smile widened. Vanessa had finally gotten her job back at the law firm, and starting next week, I was on baby duty until we agreed on a ‘good enough’ pre-school. I actually was looking forward to it, but to save face, I said something smart ass about hiring Cruz to handle the diaper situation.

  Commander Phillips raised his beer. “A toast. To new beginnings.” We all clinked bottles and took another drink. Afterward, he elbowed Cruz. “Tell him the big news.”

  Cruz turned red, which I’d assume was quite difficult given his darker complexion. “Not yet.” Cruz set his beer down on the little table jutting out from the industrial-sized gas grill. As he did so, I wondered how they’d managed to get that monstrosity to the park, but then I glanced toward Vanessa and Marco at the picnic table. No doubt he had been in charge of all the arrangements.

  I raised my eyebrows at Cruz. “What news? You finally get rid of that nasty rash?” I laughed and took a congratulatory drink of my beer.

  “Ha, funny.” Cruz clapped his hands together and held them out by his side. “You’re looking at the new head of the VanGuard International division.”

  “Not sure what that is,” I said, “but it sounds like it comes with a raise.”

  “That it does.” Cruz beamed.

  I was happy for him. After my one foray into private security, I’d hung up my holster. I was content lying low on my land with Vanessa and Rosy. The most excitement I wanted out of my day for the foreseeable future revolved around potty training and whatever new words Rosy picked up. Hopefully, not the four-letter variety that had gotten me in hot water with Vanessa last week, after our darling daughter let one fly at her one-year check-up.

  “I’m very happy for you.” I lifted my beer as another toast and sighed. “Where you going?” I asked, wondering how much longer I’d have my friend around. I’d grown quite used to his presence.

  “Everywhere, man. Everywhere.”

  “Well, I think that calls for a celebration. How about some pink birthday cake?”

  “My favorite.” Cruz rubbed his stomach, and we all headed toward the festivities.

  As I turned to see Vanessa, holding Rosy in her arms and cooing in her ear, my heart filled with pride.

  Cruz

  Part 2

  1

  Amelia

  So, this was Whitechapel. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as I’d thought it would be. Well, impressive wasn’t the right word.

  After spending weeks on end reading about Jack the Ripper, I’d imagined something a little more decrepit. A town where crime ran amuck and where officers were oblivious to their surroundings.

  Instead, I found a quaint little town filled with brown stone buildings, pruned bushes, and relatively clean streets. I could hardly imagine this place in the 19th century. Where had Mary Ann Nichols stood before she was brutally murdered? Where had Jack hidden when he was done with her?

  I walked down Buck’s Row, searching for clues, but nothing caught my eye. It was just a regular old street. I stopped in front of a small alley and peered inside. Rain pelted against my umbrella as I stood there. The wind grew colder. A shiver ran down my spine.

  Carefully, I stepped forward, approaching a flickering street lamp. Shadows danced on the walls, shapeshifting into creatures of the night. I paused, my heart beating so fast I thought it would explode out of my chest.

  Stomp… stomp… stomp…

  I froze, hearing footsteps beyond the darkness.

  “H-Hello?” I called out softly, my voice dying as soon as it left my lips.

  Who was there? Wasn’t this a dead-end street?

  I took a few steps back, my heart racing even harder. It was almost like Jack himself was going to emerge from the shadows. Something caught the light, sending a ray of it into my eyes. I was momentarily blinded, shielding my face.

  Stomp… stomp… stomp…

  Whoever it was, they were getting closer.

  I pressed myself against the wall, willing myself to melt into it – to disappear.

  A cold, bone-chilling breeze rolled through the alley, lifting a discarded piece of newspaper. It flew into the air, swirling into a vortex before it settled by my feet. The rain came down harder, blurring the ink. Still, I could make out the crude sketch of some criminal – one that had yet to be caught – one that could be lurking in this alleyway…

  Slowly, I edged toward the main street, my fingers clutching at the bricks behind me. My legs felt like they had turned to jelly.

  Usually, I was so well composed. Stuff like this never really phased me. After all, I was a crime novelist, and studying criminals was what I did best. But something about this was different. I had never felt this cold before. It was like whatever was lurking in this alleyway was slowly sucking away my soul.

  Ring! Ring!

  I about jumped out of my skin at the sound before fumbling through my purse, trying to find my phone. My fingers shook, trying desperately to turn off the sound.

  Finally, I managed to silence it.

  Suddenly, a well-built man walked past me. He was as pale as a ghost. The lenses of his glasses were shattered, refracting the dim light from the lamppost. He carried a satchel on his hip with the Royal Mail insignia stamped on it. In his arms was a large parcel, delicately wrapped in brown paper.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” he said, nodding his head in my direction. “Don’t stay out in the rain too long; you’ll catch something.” His accent was thick but understandable.

  “I-I won’t,” I managed to answer, watching him disappear into the fading drizzle.

  I shook my head. I had been terrified of a mailman.

  Eventually, I edged out of the alley and continued down Buck’s Row. Once I was on Durward Street, I grabbed my phone. I was supposed to meet my old friend, Lela Brock, so we could talk about Jack the Ripper. She had been living in Whitechapel for over five years now, and she had offered to give me a tour of the place. If I had to guess, however, she’d be more interested in talking about Dicken’s Pickwick Papers. I’m pretty sure that’s why she moved here in the first place. I’d never seen someone so obsessed with an author before. She must have read his books ten times over.

  Missed call from Heidi Cruz!

  Hmm, so that’s who had called me. I hadn’t seen Heidi in years. Maybe I should take the opportunity to catch up with her.

  Settling under a nearby awning, I dialed her number.

  She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Heidi, you called?”

  “Amelia!” Her sweet southern drawl came through the line. “I heard you were in London. Is it true?” she asked excitedly.

  “I am. Doing some research for work. How have you been? How’s Hunter?”

  “Oh, he’s doing well. He’ll be starting preschool come September.”

  “He’s going to be a smart kid.”

  “I hope so. I hope so.” I could almost picture Heidi nodding her head in that slow, deliberate manner. “Anyhow, would you like to drop by my house for dinner? I’m making jambalaya.”

  “Jambalaya?” My stomach growled at the thought of her world-famous dish. It was to di
e for. I don’t know how she did it, but it was the best damn thing you’d ever taste in your entire life. “You know I can’t say no to that.”

  “Fantastic! I’ll see you tonight around seven, then?”

  “Sure. Just text me your address, and I’ll be there.”

  “Alright. Later, hun.”

  “Later.” I hung up the phone, already imagining that andouille sausage, those fresh tomatoes, the crisp onions… Dinner couldn’t come fast enough.

  2

  Cruz

  A part of me felt numb – very numb. I had yet to accept that this was really happening.

  My eyes locked onto the hearse that drove in front of me. The long black vehicle housed the body of my sister. I had yet to see her body, arriving in London hours after her death. A strange coincidence.

  I had been promoted to the Vanguard International Division after my debut with Martin, my special operations mentor. Now, I was stationed in the London Head Quarters, ready to start investigating high-level crimes like a member of M6. Only, before I could even leave the London City Airport, I got a call that my sister had passed away from a heart complication. I didn’t even know she had problems with her heart.

  My fingers tightened around the steering wheel as I made a left toward Highgate Cemetery. Guilt washed over me once we drove past the wrought iron fence. I had barely spoken to my sister in over ten years, all because of a silly falling out that we could never properly resolve. I couldn’t even remember what it was about. Now, she was dead, and I’d never get my chance to apologize.

  I ground my teeth together, my body rigid. I should have called her. I should have swallowed my pride…

  The hearse stopped. A couple of men dressed in black stepped out, opening the back doors and sliding out the silver casket my sister would be buried in. I was glad it was closed. Seeing her at the wake had nearly broken me down. I had wanted to shake her – to wake her up – but it was too late for that now.

  “You ready?” I glanced over at the little boy buckled up in my passenger seat. He was toying with the ear of his stuffed bear. His eyes were red with tears, but I didn’t think he knew the true extent of what was going on. “Hunter?”

  He looked up at me with sad blue eyes that he must have inherited from his father – a man I didn’t know and one who had refused to take care of his own son.

  “She’s going away now, isn’t she?”

  I nodded, my heart aching. This boy didn’t deserve to lose his mother. He was so young... I grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “But, she’ll always be in your heart, okay?” I felt lame saying those words, but what else was I supposed to tell my nephew at his mother’s funeral?

  He just looked down at his bear, tugging at the ear. I couldn’t even imagine what was going through his head at that moment.

  I got out of the car and took him into my arms, following the procession of people. Everyone gathered around the fresh grave. I stayed back, fearing my own reaction if I looked down at the pit. Maybe if I had known about her heart condition, I could have helped her somehow. I could have done something.

  As the priest began to speak, Hunter wrapped his arms around my neck, burrowing his face in my shoulder. I rubbed his back softly, vowing to give him the best possible life I could. When I’d come to London, I hadn’t expected to become the legal guardian of a five-year-old, but here I was.

  Unable to face the reality of my sister going under the ground, I looked around the crowd. Everyone was dressed in varying shades of black. Some of the older women even wore veils over their heads. The sound of sniffles echoed through the thick London air. A fine mist fell over the scene.

  Soon, the priest bowed his head in reverence as the casket settled in its final resting place. I walked forward and grabbed a white rose from the ground, handing it to Hunter. “Here, throw this into the hole and make a wish for your mommy, okay?”

  The little boy looked at the flower for a moment. “What am I supposed to wish for?”

  “Anything you want.”

  “Can I wish for her to come back?”

  I bit my lip. How was I supposed to answer such a question? “Not quite…”

  “Why not?”

  “She can’t come back… But you can wish for her to be happy in her new home.”

  “Where is she?”

  Again, his question took me off guard. I was used to facing dangerous situations. Terrorists. Mafia bosses. Drug Lords. But, this five-year-old’s questions about death, they seemed impossible to answer.

  “I’m not sure…”

  He looked at the flower again before finally throwing it into his mother’s grave.

  “What did you wish for?” I asked softly, my lips feeling dry.

  “That she would find Rocky.”

  “Who’s Rocky?”

  “Our old dog… he died, too.”

  I frowned. “Oh.”

  “Can I get down?”

  “Sure.” I placed him on the ground, the soft Earth squelching under his feet. Carefully, he tiptoed forward, approaching the edge of the hole. He looked down at his mother’s casket before dropping in his bear.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “It’s cold. I thought she might need something to cuddle.” He looked up at me. “Was that okay?”

  I nodded, placing my hand on the top of his head. “Yes, that’s okay.”

  He stepped back.

  I was about to grab his hand when he ran off.

  My eyes widened, chasing after him. “Hunter! Come back!” I whispered loudly, trying not to disturb the funeral. “Where are you going?”

  “Auntie Lela!” He ran full force into a dark-skinned woman who seemed vaguely familiar.

  She took the young boy into her arms, holding him tight. “Hunter, baby, are you alright?” She ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing motion.

  “I’m sorry… He just took off on me.”

  Lela looked me over, her lips pressed together in a disapproving line. I waited for her to say something, but she kept rocking Hunter on her hip, cooing softly in his ear.

  Beside her, someone shuffled on their feet like they were uncomfortable. I glanced in their direction, laying eyes on the most beautiful woman I had ever seen…

  3

  Amelia

  The man that stood before me looked just like Heidi. A relative, perhaps. I studied his face, taking in his dark eyes, defined cheekbones, and full lips. He wasn’t the typical sort of handsome, but he was still quite attractive in his own right.

  “Lela?” I asked, turning toward my friend, wondering what was going on. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to attend Heidi’s wake – or rather, I had made an excuse so I wouldn’t have to see her dead body.

  I shuddered at the thought of it. She had died right before our planned dinner. When I’d reached her home, it had been swarmed by emergency services. Yet when her obituary had come out in the newspaper, it had said she’d suffered from a heart complication. Why, then, had so many police cars swarmed her house? I had my doubts; I thought that there was something else brewing under the surface, but I wasn’t about to start digging around with her death still so… fresh.

  “Right. You’ve never met Hunter, have you?” Lela placed the young boy on the ground. “He’s Heidi’s son.”

  I squatted down and smiled at the blue-eyed boy. He looked so different from his mother. His skin was fairer; his hair soft and blond.

  “Took after his father.”

  I looked around, but there was no one here that resembled the boy. “He didn’t show up, did he?”

  “No. He disappeared the moment Heidi had him.” Lela shook her head in disgust. “I tried telling her that he was a pig, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “So, who’s going to take care of him?” I asked, frowning at the thought of this boy growing up without parents. I knew the feeling, and I never wanted anyone to experience the painful heartbreak of being completely alone in the world.

  “Her br
other.” She pointed her thumb at the man still standing there, looking a tad bit awkward.

  “Cruz.” He held out his hand in introduction. “I’m sorry. You two must be friends of Heidi’s.”

  Lela nodded. “We are. To be fair, Hunter should be left in my custody. He didn’t even know he had an uncle until a few days ago.”

  Cruz frowned. “Hey, if I had known she had a son, I would have visited… she never told me.”

  “Really?” I asked, a little surprised. Heidi was a jabber mouth. If she had the chance, she could talk for hours on end.

  He sighed, running his fingers through his thick, curly hair. “It’s complicated, but let’s just say that my sister and I had a falling out a few years back. We never really reconciled, and now, here we are.”

  I nodded, feeling a pang of guilt well up inside of me. In a similar manner, I had lost my parents right after getting in a huge fight with them. I had stormed out of the house and stayed out all night. When I’d returned in the morning, they had been dead…

  “But I think Hunter and I will get along just fine. I even made him spaghetti last night, and he really liked it, didn’t you, buddy?”

  Hunter nodded, shuffling toward Cruz and hugging his leg. “It was yummy… and then he showed me how to make cool things out of paper.”

  I furrowed my brows in confusion.

  “Origami,” Cruz clarified.

  I chuckled a bit. This well-built gentleman did not seem like the kind of person who would make paper cranes in his free time, but then again, looks could be deceiving.

  Lela, however, still looked skeptical. “Okay, but if he’s ever mean to you, just tell Auntie Lela. You still remember my number, right?”

  He nodded, still hiding behind Cruz’s leg.

  “Do I really look like that bad of a caregiver?” Cruz asked, his expression painted in offense.