by Fiona Quinn
After a while, Lynx got up to ladle stew into bowls. Brian had gone out front to check on things. They all gathered and ate in the family room with Sophia tucked under her blankets like an invalid.
Lynx sent a questioning look Brian’s way. Sophia thought they must have been a couple for a long time; they seemed to be able to communicate with a mere glance. Lynx would send him a look, and he’d act on it, and vice versa. Like this had all been choreographed in advance.
“Your neighbors across the way are having party.” Brian’s voice was a sudden splash of color against the silence.
“That’s Kay’s house. If you follow the local gossip, she makes killer margaritas that make you want to shed your inhibitions and act like a fool.” Sophia stirred her stew without any desire to eat.
“Your other neighbor, Will Sheppard, looks none too pleased. He’s watching from his usual spot, standing in his window. What’s his story? Do you know him?”
Sophia shrugged. “He’s quiet. Nice. He helped me out this morning, for which I am very appreciative.”
“Yeah? What did he do?” Brian asked.
“My car wasn’t working. I was out of gas and my lights were left on, so I ran the battery down. He came over with a gas tank, and he gave my battery a charge.”
Brian sent her a quizzical look. “In your driveway?”
“I was parked in the cul-de-sac last night. That was a little piece of luck.”
“Sophia, your gas tank was full when I drove you home Wednesday. Have you been driving a lot?”
“I haven’t been driving much at all. The boys were with Lana.” Sophia stared at her lap. “Someone sabotaged my car, didn’t they? I found the metal and prevented the flat tire, so they moved on, just like you said they would.”
“We can’t jump to conclusions.” Brian probably meant to sound reassuring, but he was doing a bad job of it. Concern rippled out with his words. “Would you please park your car where I asked you to? That way if someone wants to do something to your car they’d have to expose themselves under the security light. I’m thinking your neighbor is vigilant enough that he’d see something if it were to happen.”
“So how did it come about that he helped you this morning?” Lynx asked.
“His wife was having coffee on her front porch, and she must have seen me in the street. She went in; and a few moments later, Will drove over to help. He had a couple of gallons of gas for his lawnmower that he lent me, and he had jumper cables. I went up to the station and filled up my tank, replaced Will’s gas, and got some chai. It wasn’t nearly as bad as dealing with a flat tire, believe me. That was easy.” Sophia smiled. She took a bite of stew because Brian was giving her a funny look, and she was afraid he wouldn’t leave if he thought she hadn’t physically recovered.
“That whole story’s odd.” Lynx’s eyes were thoughtful. “I have to tell you, I had someone stalking me once. I may not understand your exact situation, but I do understand some of the thoughts and stresses involved. It’s crazy making.”
Sophia gave her a tight-lipped smile, then forced another bite into her mouth.
“I called Nadia while you were sleeping,” Brian said.
Sophia’s eyes widened. Shit. “What did you say?” she whispered.
“I wasn’t ratting you out, if that’s what you’re thinking. Is that how you’d perceive it if I told her you were having a seizure?”
“Yes, actually.” Sophia’s voice was defiant, just this side of furious. Brian had no idea what the ramifications might be if people knew.
“Well, I didn’t tell her anything. I asked what her schedule was like this week. You said you wanted self-defense classes, and given your situation now and in the field, I believe it’s a good idea. I think we need to start as soon as possible.”
Sophia let go of some of her tension. She nodded.
“I asked how her day was going. She told me about Marla threatening you at the pool. I think we need to have a serious talk about this.”
“Marla doesn’t concern you,” Sophia said.
“You concern me. A lot.” There was an intensity about the way Brian said the words that made Sophia turn her head and stare out the window. There was an emotion there that she couldn’t examine too closely.
“Sophia, turn around. This is serious.” He waited for Sophia to face him again.
She took her time making eye contact, placing her bowl of stew on the coffee table. She couldn’t fake eating it any longer. The smell was nauseating.
“Tell me how you’re feeling right now,” Lynx asked gently. “Do you feel like you’re back in your body?”
Sophia turned to Lynx. “Yes. Though I’m still tired.” She used her fingers to comb her hair out of her face, twisting it into a rope and letting it drape over her shoulder. “But I’m always tired. I guess I feel like I normally do.” Back in her body? That was a good way to describe the experience of a seizure, like she’d floated off and needed to gather herself back together and anchor in.
Lynx sent Brian a look, then took over the conversation. “I know that the decisions you’re making every day are difficult. You’ve been following your therapist’s suggestions and doing everything you can to contain the situation, but today changed things. Would you agree with that?”
“Yes.” Sophia wondered what that would mean. She wished she’d been able to get her hands on a gun today.
“Marla has power in the neighborhood because everyone fears her. You can expect your neighbors, except the Sheppards, who seem to be her victims as well, to turn on you. Things might feel like they’re getting more difficult.”
Sophia filled her lungs with air then exhaled forcefully.
Lynx scooted to the edge of her chair and leaned forward to touch Sophia’s leg. “It’s best to have a safety net in place.” She paused, letting that sentence sink in. “The police can’t act as things stand now. We need to give the police the authority to help you.” She paused again. She was speaking slowly, enunciating clearly. That helped the words to make their way into Sophia’s consciousness. “We would like to take you to come with us to the police department and talk to a magistrate.”
Sophia didn’t know what Lynx meant. She dipped her head to the side.
“The magistrate can issue a temporary restraining order. An Iniquus lawyer will meet us at the police station. All you need to do is walk in with us and answer any questions the magistrate might have.”
Sophia shook her head. “That sounds like throwing gasoline on a fire.”
“It does. I agree,” Lynx said.
The phone rang on Sophia’s desk. Her muscles tightened, and she scrunched her shoulders toward her ears, like a child afraid of a thunderstorm.
“Do you want me to get that?” Brian asked.
“No, thank you.”
After the last ring, Lynx said, “We absolutely believe Marla will retaliate. But—and this is an important but—she’s going to anyway, whether you go to the magistrate or not. You exposed her to her husband. There’s been a fight over at their house; I can almost guarantee you. If you leave things the way they are now, you have little recourse. If you have a restraining order in place, officers can arrest Marla for coming near you, your boys, or your property. Give the police the tool they need to help you. Yes?”
“They won’t believe me. Why would they believe me?”
“You have witnesses. Brian was driving when Marla tried to run you off the road. He was also at the restaurant when she was spit-balling you. If need be, we can get Lana and Nadia in to tell the magistrate about what they saw at the pool. Getting a temporary restraining order isn’t going to be a problem.”
Sophia rubbed her fingers over her gold bracelet, staring into her lap, wishing for inspiration.
“You need this. It’s going to mean being brave. But you’re not talking to Marla. You’re talking to the magistrate. The magistrate will listen and file some paperwork. The sheriff will drive over to Marla’s house and serve the papers. You won
’t have to see Marla. Though you should know that won’t be the last step. This order would only be temporary, then you’ll have to go to court to see a judge and explain why the restraining order should be kept in place. But we’ll be with you. As many operatives as you want will be with you. We’ll all go and make sure that you feel safe at the courthouse.” Lynx stood up. “Come on, let’s get this done so that Marla’s sober when she gets the restraining order in her hands. If she gets drunk and forgets it exists, it loses some of its power.”
Sophia decided not to think more about it. Lynx and Brian did this for a living. They probably knew what was best. “I should probably have something else on besides a bikini and flip flops when I go. Let me change.” Sophia moved up the stairs with the distinct feeling that this was the beginning of the end. Not in the happily-ever-after ending kind of way, more like the holy shit, I never saw that coming ending. But maybe this would give her some much-needed respite, letting her stand, even if for a brief moment, in the calm eye of her hurricane.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brian
Saturday p.m.
“When Lynx left, she took your car.” Sophia pointed out the obvious as she unlocked her house. She had her paperwork from the magistrate held tightly in her hand.
Brian was glad that hadn’t been as painful as Sophia had expected. Having talked to the police about the situation before and not gotten any kind of support, she hadn’t expected to be successful. But true to their word, an Iniquus lawyer had shown up to assist them. Brian had flashed his credentials and explained what he’d witnessed. The magistrate didn’t blink an eye as she filled out the requisite form and gave the information to the sheriff’s office.
“Lynx’s picking up one of her team members, Deep Del Toro, and they’ll drop my car off. They should be back soon.” Brian scanned the yard, then pushed the door wide, flicked on the lights and pulled her inside. “Wait here, please.” He slid the bolt into place then moved on silent feet through the downstairs—opening closets, looking behind furniture. He took the stairs with his shoulder pressed to the wall.
“All clear,” he called as he jogged down the stairs.
She turned from her place at the window and watched as he moved to stand behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders, easily able to see over her head. Sophia stiffened, but he didn’t move his hands. He was standing close enough that he could see around the curtain she had shifted out of place.
“There are blue lights up at Marla’s house. Do you think that’s the sheriff, serving her notice?” she asked.
“We’ll know in a minute. I gave them Kay’s address as an alternative. Yep, looks like they’re headed this way. That’s a sheriff’s car, not the police, so now we just need to see if Marla’s at the party.” Across the street, Brian spotted the odd angle of the Sheppards’s curtain. “Looks like someone over at the Sheppards’s is interested in what’s going on too.”
Sophia followed his finger to the upstairs window.
Brian laid his hand back on her shoulder. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m scared.” Sophia’s admission seemed to encompass more than this particular situation; it seemed to define her lot in life.
The sheriff climbed slowly out of his car, taking a moment to assess the situation. He reached up to put his hat on. Standing at the end of Kay’s driveway, clipboard in hand, he turned and looked directly toward where Brian and Sophia huddled. He turned his focus to the window of the Sheppards’s. Brian would bet this guy had combat experience. The sheriff could feel and find the eyes on him. The man had a good handle on the situation. Though Brian was ready, if need be, to head over and give the guy a hand.
The sheriff rang the bell, and there was a decided increase in noise as the front door swung open and women with margarita glasses in their hands swelled out of the door and onto the porch. The sheriff called out directives.
“It’s like herding cats,” Brian said.
Finally, the sheriff got his finger in Marla’s face and directed her away from the rest. He turned to the others and must have ordered them into the house because they gathered in a swarm and headed back into the hive. They moved to the front window, and like Sophia and him, watched what happened next. And it was something to watch. Like a fireworks display, Marla went off. Brian saw the sheriff tapping the radio strapped to his shoulder; he must be calling for backup.
Marla was stomping away from the sheriff and toward Sophia’s house when the phone in Sophia’s office rang. Brian hated what came out of his mouth next. “You’d better go get that. Someone’s been trying to reach you all day.”
He didn’t watch Sophia as she moved away from the window, he needed to keep his eyes on Marla and her craziness. He hated it, though, that Sophia picked the receiver up and put it down without a word. He hated that his job was to take Sophia down if she was culpable. That was a pretty big if. Brian wasn’t convinced she was a bad guy. Too much circumstance, not enough cold hard fact.
Brian knew that right this minute, Thorn and Nutsbe were in the war room, culling through the data, and putting together a timeline for the FBI. There could be a reasonable explanation for what Sophia was doing and saying, though none of them had been able to fathom what it might be. He knew that Monday the FBI would be at the airport ready to gather the last of the evidence to put the icing on the cake, the lid on the box, to hammer this one home.
Sophia went upstairs to the hall bathroom. She shut the door and Brian could hear the lock click, the faucet flowing, then the ringing of her cell. Her voice washed down the drain with the water.
Brian watched out the window as backup came into view. Someone must have called Pierre Richards, because here he came through the trees and over the lawn toward Marla. Interestingly, Richards stood next to the sheriff, not next to Marla. He knew the sheriff wouldn’t like that much. And sure enough, Richards was sent to sit on the steps, but that told Brian that this guy wasn’t feeling very protective of his wife. Two sets of car headlights lit up the window. Brian watched Lynx get out of his car. She saw him in the window and signaled him out.
Brian jogged up the drive.
“Brian.” Lynx leaned against his car and looked up at the sky, indecision on her face. She shook her head. “I’m just going to say it. You do with it what you will,” she said. “This is between you and me, and not to go beyond us.” She lifted her brows and waited for his nod of agreement. “I have a strong sixth sense. Knowings, I call them.” She looked over to the house and back at him. “When I was in Sophia’s house, I realized there’s something wrong there. I mean scary wrong. And it’s angry.”
“Someone?” Brian tried.
“Something. Otherworldly. Evil intent is what I’d call it.”
Brian gave a short shake of his head. He wasn’t following.
“I think Sophia has a strong sixth-sense too—I imagine she’s empathic, that she can pick up energy signatures. It’s not an unusual trait for people who have gone through trauma. It’s a survival instinct that’s magnified, much like our hearing acuity increases when we’re stuck in the dark.”
Brian crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hips back against his car.
“Science shows that sociopaths tend to target empaths because they don’t have to say or do anything to make someone who is empathic a victim. Sociopaths have an instinct for finding and singling out empaths. Empaths can feel the sociopath’s viciousness and threat in the air and over great distances. An empath doesn’t need to be in the same area as a sociopath to be victimized.”
“Go back to this angry energy. Is it Marla?” This was a conversation he never thought he’d have. Brian had experienced some inexplicable things on his own out in the Middle East. Things he had no context for. And he truly believed he had survived over there because of his own sixth-sense. His ability to pull his foot back just before he stepped on the mine or snagged the trip wire. He was open to the idea that Sophie could sense such things as a survival technique.
Her life was filled with trauma after trauma, after all.
“No, it’s bigger than Marla. Marla is a sociopath, but this energy is pure evil. Keep a close eye on her. If I’m right about all of this, it makes her even more vulnerable.” Lynx reached out and gripped Brian’s arm. “She’s in serious danger.” And with that, Lynx walked over to Deep’s car and climbed in.
Brian scrubbed a hand over his head and blew out some of the stress that had filled his lungs. He walked back to Sophia’s living room and sat down. He put the conversation in a box. He’d have to look at it later, when he could focus on what that all meant.
“You should go.”
Brian turned to see Sophia standing at the bottom of the stairs with a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. He’d never seen her look so sad. Terrified, frustrated, exhausted, yes. But this was deep down grief.
He stood and ran his hands down the thighs of his pants. “What happened?” He took a step toward her. “Are you okay?”
“No. Not really. Look, it’s late. Marla has been served her papers.” She gestured toward the door. “If I have any trouble, I’ll call the police.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone tonight.” Brian’s voice was flatly adamant.
“Lynx is on her way home. She’ll be waiting for you. Go, spend some time with her. She’s been so incredibly kind and generous to have let you stay here this week. Would you please tell her thank you for me?”
Well that was unexpected. “Sophia, do you think that Lynx and I are a couple?”
She didn’t answer, just made her way into the living room and sat on the sofa in front of her boys’ picture.
“What happened on the phone call? Did you get some bad news?” He moved to sit in the chair opposite her.
Sophia did what Sophia always did when she didn’t want to answer. She played with her gold bracelet and didn’t make eye contact. Well, he’d find out soon enough, by listening to the recording back in the war room. No need to press. “You look exhausted. Go take a sleeping pill. Get some sleep.”