Outsider (The Ashport Mender Series Book 1)

by G. K. Lund

  I walked through the bedroom with quick and quiet steps and found my clothes scattered on the floor in the next room. Grateful, I hurried to put them on, only noticing afterward the large window in the room and the neighboring building. It dawned on me that we might have had an audience. It was standard procedure to close the curtains when there with witnesses to make sure they weren’t seen. I rubbed my hand over my face. Then I noticed all of Evans’ clothes on the floor. I bent down to pick them up as I heard movement in the bedroom. The soft sound of fabric rustling as she turned.

  There was silence a moment as she awoke properly, probably also realizing what we’d done.

  “Morning,” she called through for me to hear as I stepped over to her jacket and picked that up as well, throwing it over my arm with the rest of it. I have to admit, for one moment I glanced at the front door, wanting nothing more than to bolt. Not proud of it. But the thought of Andrea and McAllen made me see reason.

  I closed my eyes and nodded to myself, before turning around and going back to the bedroom.

  She had turned over to her right side now, eased up on her elbow, head supported on her hand. She looked attentively at me, no malice on her face. Lips a natural soft pink without her lipstick.

  “Morning,” I managed to get out. I cleared my throat. “Your clothes,” I added raising the arm with them on a bit.

  “Thank you.” She patted the mattress with her free hand and I put them on it and sat down on the corner of the bed.

  “I…” I began and trailed off immediately.

  “Yes?” she prompted. I was aware of her to my right, looking at me. The lack of menace did not mean a lack of amusement, though. Still…I had fucked up royally.

  “I need to apologize for last night. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  She didn’t say anything, but I heard her shifting her position. She sat up and moved toward me before lying down on her stomach next to me. The movement caused me to glance over, seeing her legs bent up in the air, ankles crossed, the sheets around her that half fell off her back. Her dark shoulder-length hair was tousled from sleep…and sex. I groaned inwardly and looked straight ahead.

  I cleared my throat again; there was no need, but I was so out of my depth here. I still couldn’t understand how I had managed to mess up like this.

  “And…” I continued, knowing I needed to say it all. “I’m sorry for my…rough behavior.”

  “Oh, but Detective,” she began, voice soft. I could see her looking up at me out the corner of my eye. “No need. Angry sex is, after all, the best.” The smirk was back now. I was sure of it. Could hear it in her voice. “And you do seem to go all in for that sort of thing.”

  “Oh God,” I exclaimed, not able to help it. I glanced over at her back again. Seeing her in front of me as I knelt behind her, pushing deep, hands tracing her hips. The night had gone by like that. Deep-seated silent anger on both parts between trysts. My rough and unyielding movements during, her always being ready, matching me each time.

  “Actually,” she corrected herself. “Make-up sex is the best, but angry sex is way up there.”

  “Evans, don’t,” I said. “This is bad enough—”

  “Yeah, you messed up, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “It’s unbecoming of a p—”

  She laughed. “Nice to know even you can make mistakes.”

  I could feel my usual resentments rising again, and by the look of her, so could she. She smiled, though, rolling over on her back, the sheets thankfully covering her. “Oh dear, Detective. Sex with you is a battle of minds, isn’t it?”

  Chapter 14

  The morning of mortification went on, awkward and austere. At least on my part. It was like a one-night stand where the one meant to leave stuck around, only in this particular case, that was the both of us. Like drunken anxiety without the alcohol. Oh, did I want a drink. Or three. I didn’t care it was nine AM.

  Her footsteps sounded from the bedroom, and I didn’t even flinch now. Simply sat on the couch, staring at the black TV screen. The initial shock was abating. I needed to suck it up and deal with it.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said as she walked into the living room, running her fingers through her wet hair in lieu of a hairbrush. “Someone must have seen one of those cars yesterday, so we need to ask around. But before that, there is one place I need to go.”

  Thankfully, she was fully clothed now, dark jeans and jacket, her red shirt tied together below her waist.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, noticing I was looking, “your ‘bodice ripping’ caused more than half the buttons to fly off.” She made the air quotes with her fingers. “Luckily, it’s a loose-fitting shirt,” she added and laughed as I closed my eyes and looked away a moment. Okay, so the shock might have been subsiding; the embarrassment…not so much.

  “Anyway,” she continued while she pulled her shoes on. “I’m hungry. Let’s find some food.”

  That, at least, I could get behind. I was starving as I hadn’t eaten for over twenty-four hours. What with more pressing issues I hadn’t noticed until then.

  We stopped at a diner not far from the safe house. I didn’t have to wait long before Evans came out with a takeaway bag in her hands, jogging toward the car to get through the drizzle that had started coming down on the short drive there. She now wore a gray top under her jacket. She had a stash here as well, it seemed, and it explained why she told me to wait in the car. She didn’t want me to know which of the staff kept clothes for her. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she knew people.

  “I see you got your suspicious-face back,” Evans said as she got in, pulling the car door shut.

  “Know someone special in there?” I said, indicating her new piece of clothing.

  She smiled, deep-red lipstick today. “Why are you so suspicious of me all the time?” she asked and leaned closer, resting her arm on top of her seat. “It must be that I rub you the wrong way somehow…or—”

  “Don’t,” I interjected, but to no avail.

  “—is it that I rub you the right way?”

  I snorted and looked forward. She’d always tried to disconcert me, as long as I’d known her, but now…there was so much fodder to put on the fire, and no one was to blame but myself.

  Suck it up.

  Thankfully, she didn’t push it. Instead, she focused on the food she’d bought, handing me a cup of coffee, and a box which, to my surprise, turned out to contain sandwiches—three different kinds. My stomach actually grumbled at the sight. I had expected pie, pastry…hell, even cotton candy wouldn’t have surprised me. For herself, she’d gotten pancakes, although some bacon had been mixed into the sweet dish. Yesterday’s milkshake had been changed into a bottle of water.

  I turned the engine on. “Where is it you want to go first?” I asked, talking around the roast-beef sandwich I’d bitten into.

  She peeled off the cover of a plastic fork. “I need to see Andrea’s parents,” she said, voice measured, but the severity in her face sincere. I nodded and followed her instructions.

  It dawned on me as we drove toward the town center that I wasn’t surprised Evans knew them. After all, she seemed to know all kinds of people around town, including those who knew anything about the kidnapping.

  We parked in front of a reddish-brown townhouse, a few blocks off Main Street. At this point, we’d managed to eat our food, and my coffee was at a drinkable temperature. Evans stared out the window at the house.

  “Have you been here before?” I asked.

  She nodded. “The same day they took Andrea.”

  Which meant they must have known before the police. Interesting. Kaye hadn’t known who Andrea was until I told her. What kind of parents didn’t call the police in a situation like this? Had Evans discouraged it?

  “They deserve to know what happened yesterday,” she said but made no move to get out of the car. Instead, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes a moment. She didn’t only look like she dreaded go
ing in. She looked tired.

  “Are you…okay?” I asked, lowering my coffee cup. I realized this was the third time in as many days I had asked her that, though I hadn’t foreseen one of the times would be because of myself. Both of us had been in on last night, but I hadn’t exactly been gentle the whole time.

  She raised her eyebrows at this and then opened her eyes. “You have no idea what it takes to hurt me,” she said and patted my arm before opening the car door. “And anyway,” she added, glancing at the house, “I’m not the one you should worry about being okay.” She got out and I followed, coffee in hand. With all the walking yesterday and…lack of sleep, it was an even better remedy than the food.

  A couple in their fifties let us into a tidy and warm house. Mr. and Mrs. Kirby were polite but unnerved by my presence.

  “We already spoke to the police,” Mr. Kirby said, a graying man, stout build, and a firm handshake. “They were outside town on a farm yesterday. Didn’t find her.”

  “He’s not investigating the kidnapping, exactly,” Evans said as we were led into the den and sat down. “He’s investigating me.”

  The couple both asked her the same silent question, eyes widened, brows lowered. She only shrugged, though. All I understood from this was that they distrusted the police as much as…well, apparently all the people Evans knew.

  They did, however, soon get over this as she told them of our discovery the day before. The pain in their eyes as they heard what their daughter had been through, was still going through, is not something I’d wish on anyone. I saw Mrs. Kirby, a frail-looking woman in a blue and white flowery dress, reach out to her husband. Their hands clung to each other, neither of them feeling the physical pain of it. We had not only failed Andrea, I realized. We had failed her parents as well. I set my coffee down on the table at that. It suddenly tasted like bile in my mouth.

  “You still have her locket?” Mrs. Kirby asked as Evans had finished recounting what had happened at the Kreutz farm.

  Evans nodded and got it out of her purse, before handing it to her. She opened it and gave a sad smile at the sight of the rose. “It was part of my mother’s bridal bouquet,” she said, looking at me.

  “Must be very special to your daughter,” I said.

  She nodded solemnly, tears running down her cheeks. She didn’t seem to notice. “It’s a focal object.”

  A what? I thought but didn’t ask. I could tell Evans was tense beside me. This was something she wanted to avoid talking about, and for once I agreed. I didn’t want to push these two frightened and worried parents.

  “There is something else I need to tell you,” Evans continued after a few silent moments. “It seems…Andrea might have been taken by mistake.”

  “Mistake?” Mr. Kirby said. “But you said Yorov—”

  “Yes,” Evans said, “apologies for interrupting. It is Yorov that’s behind this. Of that, I’m sure…but we’ve come to realize it might have been me they were after.”

  “But you’re passive,” he said, confusion all around. “Andrea’s active.” He looked questioningly at his wife. “I thought…” he caught himself and looked at me. Oh wow, was I the third wheel of this conversation.

  “I can’t explain it,” Evans hurried to say before I could ask anything. Active and passive what?

  “All I can say is that I’m so sorry. This happened because of me…and…I’m so sorry.” Her voice actually broke a little, but she managed to keep it together. Mrs. Kirby stretched out a hand and took Evans’ in it, giving her a friendly squeeze.

  “She was at the wrong place at the wrong time…that doesn’t make it your fault, though.” The woman gave a faint smile of comfort. It probably took all she had. “You’re a good and competent person, Maggie. All you do for us? You didn’t do this.”

  That settled it for me. No more running around following suspicious leads. No matter my presence at the farm. No matter how much I had screwed up last night. I would have to take any consequences and deal with them. The pain these two were going through, let alone what Andrea was going through, had to stop.

  I waited patiently for them to finish, said my goodbyes when the time came and walked calmly to the car. Evans began giving me the directions to wherever it was she wanted to go, but I didn’t give a damn. Instead, I went where I needed to go.

  “Hey, I said take a right here,” she said as I did the opposite and turned left on Birch Street. “Hansen? What are you doing?”

  “We have somewhere else we need to go,” I said and stopped answering her questions after that. Tuned her out like a bad jazz song on the radio. I headed north and it didn’t take her long to catch on.

  “Where are you going?” she said, suspicion marking her voice. She was leaning an arm on the dashboard trying to make eye contact with me. I kept a hard grip on the staring wheel in case she tried to grab it. She looked around at the nice and well-kept houses, realization dawning.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked. “Damn it, answer me. This isn’t what we agreed, you bastard.”

  A few minutes and lots of angry insults shouted at me later, I parked the car in front of Rob’s house.

  “What the hell, Hansen?” she said, following me to the porch. “Rob has nothing to do with this. Let’s get out of here.”

  I ignored her and pounded my fist on the door. “He’s probably not even home,” she shouted, likely in hopes of him hearing her from the inside.

  He either didn’t hear her or take the hint. The door opened slowly, and I smiled at her. “It’s Saturday morning,” I said. “Everyone’s home.”

  “What’s going on?” Rob asked, sounding as confused as he looked at the sight of us. When I told him in no uncertain terms that he was coming with me to the station, he gasped and stepped back into the house. Evans pushed herself past me, and led him further in, not to the dining room this time, but to a living room to the left.

  “Evans, stop it,” I yelled at her and followed. “No more of this nonsense. He’s coming with me.”

  “No,” they both yelled and turned toward me, Evans stepped in front of him to protect him.

  “He hasn’t done anything wrong,” she protested.

  “He knew where the kidnappers where holding Andrea. That doesn’t seem suspicious to you?”

  “You know how he got that information.”

  I scoffed at the comment. “They knew we were there,” I said instead. “He probably called them saying we were on our way.”

  “What?” Rob burst out. “Maggie, I didn’t do that.”

  “I know,” she said without turning toward him. She kept her eyes on me, and I remembered what she’d done to the bald man. No need to let this escalate to that point.

  “He didn’t call them,” she argued. “They must have noticed us when we drove by.”

  “He knew where they kept her,” I repeated slowly like she was a simpleton.

  “Because he’s retro cognizant.” Rob’s eyes widened at this. He seemed genuinely scared that this was spoken out loud in front of me.

  “There’s no such thing,” I yelled, tired of the insanity. I didn’t know what Rob got out of fooling her like this, dragging her into a crime that was meant to involve her as a victim, but that could be handled by Kaye and Bowman. All I needed was to take them to the station, so we could sort this out.

  “Listen,” I continued. “You’re coming with me to the station. “Both of you,” I added in case it wasn’t clear.

  “We need to call Joel,” Rob said to Evans, then refocused on me. “He’s my lawyer. Our lawyer,” he added, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “Fine,” I said. “You can do that from the station.”

  “Oh my God, he’s like a broken record,” Evans said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not doing this. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “Why did you have to bring him, Maggie?” Rob said. “Cops always do this.”

  “Do what?” I said, but their eyes no longer focused on me.

&nb
sp; “Maggie?” a female voice said behind me. I didn’t recognize it but as I turned I recognized the woman.

  Andrea.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, dressed like the day she was taken in the alley, a few rips in her blazer, though. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but loose, strands of it hanging down around her face. She looked shocked. Her eyes focused on Evans, uncertain and confused.

  “Andrea,” Evans said, shock in her voice, though her face was controlled. She kept her eyes on me but stepped closer to the woman we’d been searching for. “Are you really here?”

  Andrea swallowed hard and looked around the room, then at us before shaking her head.

  “Are you all right?” Evans asked as she stopped in front of her.

  “I…yes. How am I here?” she asked. That was the same thing I wanted to know.

  Evans, for some reason, pulled the silver locket out of her purse. “I got this for you, remember?”

  Andrea put her hand over her mouth at the sight, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then she nodded. She drew breath a couple of times, visibly pulling herself together. “They’ve been drugging me, keeping me in a chair. I’ve been out of it much of the time.”

  “Have they hurt you?” Evans’ tone was urgent. She looked intently at her.

  Andrea shook her head. “Not like that…but yes. One of them is…not kind.”

  “Okay. Where are you now?”

  Andrea looked around again. She seemed to be thinking. “I’m not sure. They moved me. I’m chained to a floor now. In a way, it’s better than the chair. I can stretch out.”

  “Okay, that’s good.”

  “Wait, what?” I said. Something was very wrong with this conversation.

  “Shut up,” Evans hissed without looking at me. “Do you know where you are, though?” she urged Andrea.

  The woman shook her head slowly. “They had a hood over my head. In a basement, I think. I don’t know. I can’t understand anything they’re saying.”