by J. M. LeDuc
Sin sat at the red light on U.S. 1, the road that led off Key West. She glanced in her rearview mirror and noticed a pick-up truck tailing her about five vehicles back. She couldn’t make out the occupants, but she knew she had seen the truck before.
That’s the same truck I saw pass me when I pulled onto the base, she thought. Let’s see how badly they want to tail me.
The light turned green and she eased off the clutch, following the line of traffic off the Key. About a half mile down the road, she pulled onto a service road that led to the local airport.
Sin had spent a good portion of her youth in the recesses of the airport trying to escape her life on Tumbleboat. She hoped it hadn’t been redesigned in the years she’d been away.
As soon as she entered the service road, she gunned the throttle of her bike and roared down a long road of airplane hangars. Sliding her bike around a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree right hand turn she stayed on the throttle and disappeared between two buildings. She cut the engine to her bike and glided into an open hangar about fifty yards from the end of the row.
Good old, Charlie, she thought, he still leaves his hangar wide open. She quickly dismounted and threw an old painter’s tarp over her bike. She ducked low behind the tarp and watched the pick-up make its way past.
From the hangar, she heard the truck stop and both doors open.
“What the hell, the bitch couldn’ta just disappeared.”
“Shut up and check the open hangars.”
Sin recognized the voices. The first belonged to Ronnie, the guard from the church who escorted her to and from Heap’s office and the second belonged to Bubba.
She heard the crunching of footsteps on the sand-beaten asphalt as one of them neared her position. With precision movements, she withdrew her sidearm from her waist holster, thumbed off the safety, and waited for him to get a little closer. Sin’s thigh muscles started to quiver as she positioned herself on the balls of her feet. It was the beginning of an adrenaline rush. When others would be frightened, she was just getting amped up.
About to spring from her spot, she heard a familiar voice. It was Charlie.
“One move and I’ll blow the back of your head off.”
“Whoa, easy buddy, I’m here on official business.”
“Official, ha,” Charlie said, “then why don’t you drop that gun and show me a badge and a warrant.”
“It ain’t that kind of official, I’m here on behalf of Prophet Heap.”
Sin could hear the ‘thunk’ of metal on bone and she had to bite her lip from laughing.
“Damn,” the intruder cried. “That hurt.”
“Shut up.”
Sin peered around the tarp and saw Charlie take a couple of steps back from Ronnie before saying anything else.
“Put your hands on top of your head.”
Ronnie rubbed the knot on his head and kept flapping his lips. “You don’t know what yer doin’, old man. Didn’t you hear me say I was here for the Prophet?”
Charlie thumbed the hammer back on his Smith and Wesson 32 police special. “He’s just another piece of shit, money hungry, fat fuck as far as I’m concerned.”
Ronnie went to move his hands and Charlie fired a shot above his head.
Sin watched Ronnie drop to the ground in the fetal position, hands covering his head.
Charlie walked up and rolled him onto his back with the toe of his boot. Sin could see Ronnie quaking with fear.
“You’re going to stand up—slowly—and walk back to your truck and drive out of here. If I don’t hear tires squealing in thirty seconds . . .” Charlie thumbed the hammer back again, “the next one won’t miss.”
Sin watched as the guard stumbled to his feet and ran out of the hangar.
Charlie stood at the entrance and watched the man run. “One more thing,” he yelled. “Pick your fat-ass friend up off my property and haul his carcass out of here with you.”
Charlie turned to look back into the hangar. “Come on out, Sinclair.” He was the only one who called her by her full name.
Sin stood and looked at her friend, really looked at him for the first time. She could see a wide grin on his bearded face. His hair was grayer than it was seven years ago, but he was still the same old Charlie.
He gave her a crooked grin and waved her over. “You gotta see this.”
Sin stood in the shadows and watched as the guard picked up, dropped, and again, picked up an unconscious Bubba.
“I nailed the fat one with a prop wrench,” Charlie said. “He hit the ground so hard, I thought he was dead.” He glanced back at Sin, “but he ain’t.”
“Too bad,” Sin smiled. “That poor bastard has spent more time unconscious than not since I’ve been back. When he wakes up, he’ll wish he was dead.”
“Probably.”
They watched and heard the truck squeal as it thundered down the airport access road heading back toward the Overseas Highway.
Charlie slid the 32 into his shoulder holster and spread his arms out wide. Sin leaned forward and hugged the old man harder and longer than she thought possible.
“Were you even going to tell me you were back in town, or were you gonna just leave me hangin’.”
“Sorry,” Sin breathed, “things have been one big cluster since I got back.”
They walked to a small office in the back of the hangar and Charlie poured Sin a cup of coffee. He leaned back in his high-backed, worn leather chair and put his boots up on his desk. “Tell me why you’re back. Last letter I got from you, you were just east of Kabul, helping extract a bunch of women and children.”
Sin sipped her coffee, he eyes never leaving Charlie. “About the letters . . .”
“Don’t worry,” Charlie said, “no one knows we’ve been in contact. Hell, hardly anyone knows we were even friends back when you were growing up.”
Sin nodded, put her cup down and leaned forward. “Thank you.”
“Enough of the gratitude bullshit, why are you back?”
Sin knew that she could trust Charlie and she also knew that she might need an ally. “I’m back with the Bureau.”
Charlie’s eyes opened wide and a sideways smirk painted his face. “It’s about time Graham grew a pair.”
Sin huffed in silent laughter.
“But that still doesn’t tell me why you’re back.”
Sin picked up the mug and took a sip of the lukewarm, old coffee. “What do you know about the girls that have been fished out of the gulf?” she asked.
Charlie dropped his feet from his desk, spun his chair around and fired up his Mac.
“Damn, Charlie,” Sin said, “are you still using the old Apple. Isn’t it time you stepped into the twenty-first century.”
“Don’t let looks fool you, Sinclair. This baby is faster than anything the State Department has,” he turned toward her with a twinkle in his eye, “and it’s loaded with all of their software.”
Sin smiled and shook her head. “Once an agent, always an agent,” she laughed.
“Let’s just say, I still like hunting down a good conspiracy.” His computer fired up and opened to a page with flashing red letters.
Warning, this is a secured site, leave now or be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
“Screw you,” Charlie mumbled as he punched in a thirty-digit, alphanumerical code. Tapping the enter button, he was now privy to all of the Bureau’s classified information.
“Are you sure this can’t be traced?”
“I would have been in Leavenworth years ago if that were the case,” Charlie answered.
He scanned and read the file about the dead girls. It wasn’t anything Sin didn’t already know.
“Pull up the file on the dead agents,” Sin said.
“What dead agents?”
Sin stood and w
alked behind the desk so that she was leaning over Charlie’s shoulder. “The fishermen who washed up on shore in Tumbleboat.”
Charlie brought up another file and read.
“How the hell did I miss this,” he said.
“Probably too busy with the whole ‘weapons of mass destruction’ conspiracy,” Sin cracked.
Charlie didn’t respond, he just sat back in his chair and threw his head back. “I can’t believe Alex is dead,” he said. “I wondered why I hadn’t heard from him.”
“Whoever is responsible sent his body back to Washington in pieces,” Sin said.
Alarms began buzzing from the computer. Charlie punched a bunch of keys, which began an encryption process on his hard-drive and powered it off. Sin looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Early warning system,” Charlie said. “It lets me know if the Bureau’s mainframe is doing a random search for unauthorized users.”
He stood up and poured himself another cup of coffee. “So that’s how they got to you . . . Alex.”
Sin nodded. “Yeah, I was approached by Frank at his funeral. He knew I couldn’t stay away.” Sin stared at a picture on Charlie’s wall. It was a picture taken at a party right after she graduated from the FBI Academy. A picture of her, Charlie, and Alex. Other personnel and graduates loomed in the background. Her eyes glistened as she wiped the dust from the glass frame. “This seems like a lifetime ago,” she sighed.
Charlie stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders.
Sin glanced at the clock. “Crap, I had no idea what time it was. I need to get moving.”
“We need to talk about this, Sinclair.”
“I know,” she said as she straddled her bike. “Meet me at our spot—three a.m.”
He nodded.
“Oh,” Sin said. “See what you can dig up on Heap.”
“You got it, anything else?”
“One more thing,” she added, “what is your opinion of Troy Stubbs?”
“He was an asshole when he was younger, he’s been through some shit, and he seems to have come out the other side a whole lot better,” Charlie said.
“Will you do a little fishin’ before we meet?”
“Consider it done.”
Sin kick-started her bike and rode off. A half mile down the road, she saw a tow truck with the pick-up that had been trailing her hitched up to it slowly making its way down the road. She laughed as she twisted the throttle and blew past. Good old Charlie, she thought.
CHAPTER 15
Sin rode up to her house and saw Troy’s truck sitting in the driveway. She jumped off her bike and strode up to the front door, hoping to make it upstairs unnoticed. The squeak of the hinge precluded that from happening.
“We’re on the porch, Sin,” Thomas said.
Walking towards the porch, Sin viewed Maria sitting on the couch watching TV. Troy was standing at the railing talking with her father and Carmelita. He was wearing a turquoise, button-down Tommy Bahama shirt, and a pair of tan khaki pants. Shit, Sin thought, I guess this really is a date.
“I thought you were going to stand me up,” Troy smiled. He bent down and pulled a cold, longneck out of a cooler. Using just his thumb, he twisted the top and handed her the beer.
She took a pull and wiped her mouth. It was then that she noticed that her dad and Carmelita were also dressed to go out. “Sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” she said. “I had a little bike trouble and it took me a while to get her running again.”
“Anything I can help you with?”
She looked at Troy and shook her head. “It’s all taken care of. If you will excuse me, I’ll take a quick shower and be right back.”
Troy looked at his watch. “I made reservations for seven-thirty. I better call and tell them we will be running late.”
Sin eyed his watch. “Don’t bother, I won’t be long, promise.”
“Okay then,” Troy said pocketing his phone.
Twenty minutes later, Sin looked in the mirror before exiting her room. She was wearing a pale yellow sundress with spaghetti straps. While the neckline and dress length were modest, her four-inch, open-toed heels were not. Her silky, ebony hair fell softly against and down past her shoulders.
The change must have been more drastic than she realized because Troy’s mouth was unhinged as his eyes traced her every move.
“Mi hija,” Carmelita said, “you look beautiful.”
Before anyone could say another word, Sin glanced at the clock and said, “We better get going if we are going to make our reservation.” Suddenly she realized she had no idea where they were headed. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“The Shell House,” Troy answered.
Sin’s expression glimmered as she grabbed her purse. “Nice choice.”
“I do have a little class,” Troy joked.
Sin’s jade green eyes twinkled. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Troy just shook his head as he grabbed his keys.
Sin was surprised when her father and Carmelita stayed seated. “Aren’t you two coming?”
“Us? No,” her father answered. “We have a ‘date’ with Maria for pizza and ice cream.”
Sin still looked confused and turned to Carmelita for an answer. “Every Friday we go to Island Pizza with Maria. It’s her favorite restaurant and,” she shrugged, “she likes it when we dress up.”
Sin eyed Troy. “I know you must have gone through a lot of trouble to get those reservations, but suddenly I having a craving for pizza.”
Troy’s grin was ear to ear, helping to dissipate Sin’s old memories of him a little more. “Then, Island Pizza it is,” he said.
Thomas stood, wobbled and regained his balance. “Darn chemo,” he said.
Sin went to help him, but he waved her off. When he looked at her, she felt a twinge of sadness.
“I’ll be fine,” her father whispered
“And I’ll make sure of it.” Carmelita said as she hooked arm with his.
Island Pizza was packed when they arrived, but a table was waiting for them. All eyes followed their small caravan as they headed to their seats.
“I think we’re a bit over dressed,” Sin whispered from the side of her mouth.
“I don’t think they’re staring at Tom and me,” Troy said, “You three ladies add a lot of class to this joint.”
Sin playfully hip checked him.
The pizza was great and they ate more than they should, but Maria insisted on ice cream for dessert. As they ate, Troy kept them entertained with stories of his days at the University of Miami and the humorous things he witnessed while working as a State trooper. It didn’t escape Sin that he didn’t mention why he left U.M. and joined the police force.
The best part of the night for Sin was getting to know Maria better. As the dinner went on, she became more animated and childlike. She really came out of her shell when Sin started speaking to her in her native dialect.
Before leaving, Carmelita excused herself to go to the ladies room and Sin accompanied her.
“How do you know such an unusual dialect?” Carmelita asked while reapplying her lipstick.
“I spent a lot of time in the mountains of Nicaragua. The more Maria spoke, the more I noticed her accent and use of certain words.”
Carmelita’s jovial expression turned serious as she turned from the mirror and looked directly at Sin. “Maria has never told me anything about where she came from or how she got here. Your knowledge of her culture is a godsend. He has sent you here for many reasons.”
Sin ignored the last comment and kissed Carmelita’s cheek. “I will see what I can do.”
When they walked out of the restroom, they saw Ezekiel Miller standing over the table talking to the men. When they arrived at the table, Maria practically threw herself into Carmelita’s arms.
“Chief Miller, nice to see you,” Sin said, “I hate to break up this conversation, but we need to get going. Maria is tired and I have an early meeting at the base tomorrow.”
Miller looked up with the bloodshot eyes of a man who had too much to drink and leered at the women. “We ain’t done.”
Sin didn’t appreciate his tone of voice and she definitely didn’t like the way he leered at Carmelita. He seemed to undress her with his stare. “I see you’re not in uniform, Chief. Are you on duty?”
“No, why you askin’?”
Sin stepped between Miller and the table. “Because, if you’re not on duty, this conversation can wait.”
Troy stood up and began to say something to diffuse the tension when Miller made the mistake of grabbing Sin by her shoulder and pulling one of the straps of her dress.
“You can dress up a whore, but you know it’s still a whore,” he slurred.
Before Troy could react, Sin grabbed Miller’s wrist, bent it back and spun under his arm, forcing his arm behind his back, causing him to scream from the pain. The screaming stopped suddenly as she drove his head forward with her free hand, slamming it down onto the table.
He flopped on the floor like an oversized lump of pizza dough.
Miller staggered for his off-duty weapon, but Troy kicked his hand away and removed the weapon from his ankle holster. He then removed the magazine and pocketed both pieces.
Sin looked around the restaurant at all the startled faces. “I’m sorry for the disturbance,” she said.
A big man stood up at the table next to them and hiked up his overalls. Sin could tell by his ruddy complexion and callused hands that he was a fisherman. She was about to say that she didn’t want any more trouble when the man began to clap. Within seconds, the entire restaurant was cheering and applauding.
Sin blushed as she took Troy’s hand and began walking out of the restaurant.
She stopped in front of the man and mouthed, “Thank you.”
He nodded and winked.
They were back on U.S. 1 and headed back toward Tumbleboat as an ambulance tore past them in the other direction.