Ctrl Z

by Danika Stone

  “Excuse me, sir,” the officer said, her voice drawing the attention of passersby. “Are you here to see Mr. Baird?”

  Jude nodded, his mind going a million different directions at once. The woman strode forward, clipbook in hand. She held out her badge.

  “I’m Detective Schaeffer,” she said brusquely. “Are you a friend of Elliot Baird’s?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m Jude. Jude Alden.”

  She glanced down at her clipboard.

  “Ah yes,” she said, making a notch next to his name. “His mother told me I should contact you.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No, actually, it isn’t,” she said dryly.

  Jude blanched. “What?”

  “Mr. Baird is refusing to give any kind of statement about the attack.”

  Jude released his breath, shoulders sagging. “His tongue was sliced,” he explained. “He can’t really talk yet. Or not so he can be understood, anyhow.”

  The detective shook her head.

  “His mother tells me he’s been leaving simple messages with his tablet the last few days,” she said. “Elliot can point to words even though he can’t say them. He could make a statement if he wanted.”

  “Oh,” Jude said. “I didn’t realize.”

  Elliot hadn’t done anything like that around him. For the most part, he just stared at the window, dozing. Now Jude wondered how much of that was because he was the one visiting.

  “We’d like to get some information about the person who attacked him,” Schaeffer continued. “The fresher it is in his mind, the better.”

  “But does he even remember the attack?” Jude asked.

  “The nurses seem to think so,” she replied. “I’m sure you know he’s been having nightmares at night…” Jude frowned. He hadn’t known that either. “…and the psychologist thinks that this is because he does remember the attack. I’ve been trying to get a statement, but so far he’s refused.” For the first time since the conversation began, she smiled. “I was hoping you could talk to him. Convince your friend to do the right thing.”

  Jude felt himself deflate. He didn’t tell Elliot to do the right thing. It worked the other way around. There was no way to explain that to her though.

  “I’ll try,” he said weakly.

  She reached into her pocket, pulling out a card. “Give me a call if you make any progress with him, Jude,” she said. “This is important. Whoever did this to Mr. Baird is still out there on the streets.” She paused, staring at him for a long moment. “And the longer that person isn’t caught, the more likely it is that he’ll do this to someone else.”

  Jude nodded mutely, watching as the detective walked away. Jude lifted a shaking hand to the door, knocking twice, then pushing the door open. Elliot was in bed, watching television on his iPad. His face was mottled purple and orange, one section of his cheek fading to greenish yellow like rotten fruit. His hands were propped in front of him on a pillow, fingers swaddled in gauze.

  “Hey Elliot,” Jude said, forcing a bright grin. “You’re looking good today!”

  Elliot didn’t answer. He dropped the tablet and turned to stare out at the snowy landscape beyond the glass. Jude followed his gaze.

  On the other side of the window, a car with tinted windows was pulling away from the curb.

  Chapter 18: The Rest of the Story

  If he didn’t think about the risks he was taking, Jude was content. Things were good with his life. His job at the university was a welcome relief from the hacking he did in his free time. With King’s project, Jude had money in the bank, building interest. He had friends and a life that was moving forward. The day was nearing when he could head off on his own.

  If he didn’t think about the danger he was putting Indigo in, Jude was happy. His relationship with her was beyond his expectations. She never seemed to mind when he got busy for days at a time. She was always there when things slowed, ready to show him how much she’d missed him.

  If he didn’t think about the people he was hacking, Jude could pretend it didn’t matter. The names were just names, the faces something abstract, like someone who existed in another time or place. Jude thought of his job as numbers and bank accounts, not people at all.

  Except for Fran Williams.

  He left her file until last, working through one person at a time, saving the details, and filing the same meticulous reports he’d done for King.

  “You started with the Police Commissioner yet?” Luca asked him at their weekly meeting.

  “Not yet,” Jude said, sliding a folder across the table, “I’m working on it.”

  “You should hurry up. Mr. Fischer has his eye on her. Leave the others for now.”

  Jude nodded, eyes sliding over the busy coffeehouse crowd. Patel was up at the counter, paying for two drinks. Jude dropped his gaze before he could catch him watching.

  “I… I’ll do what I can,” he muttered, “but there’s a lot to be done.”

  Patel arrived, handing Luca his coffee.

  “There’s always a lot to be done, my friend,” he laughed, standing up from the table. “But you should remember that if King is happy, then you are happy.” His smile grew hard. “And if King is unhappy then…”

  He left the rest unsaid.

  Patel chuckled, and Luca reached into his pocket, dropping an envelope on the table next to Jude’s elbow.

  “Next time we meet,” Luca said, “I’ll want to hear what you’ve found on Williams.”

  Jude nodded, waiting as the two of them walked out of the Starbucks.

  If he didn’t think about the next time, he could pretend this wasn’t happening.

  : : : : : : : : : :

  Sanger’s team of agents infiltrated downtown, becoming familiar faces on the street and blending into the crowds. A vehicle disguised as a cable repair van moved along the boulevard while unmarked cars patrolled the area. Some of the work led to dead ends: Alden’s computer, for instance, was proving unexpectedly difficult to hack. Other initiatives had provided unexpected results. Agent O’Brien had bumped into Elliot Baird, putting a trace on him the day he’d been attacked. It had been recording when he’d been assaulted less than a block from home, and the agents’ speedy response was the reason that Baird had survived at all.

  “Is the surveillance install complete?” Sanger asked.

  The agent turned, nodding.

  “My team got the video in this morning,” she replied. “We’ve been recording since then.”

  The agent gestured to the call-center, where two technicians managed the audio and video capabilities. They’d been in the apartment next door to the target an hour ago. Phone lines and cable were now connected, a video feed set up in the ventilation ductwork.

  “Audio hasn’t been confirmed,” she added. “We just need a call to check it.”

  “But the phone tap is ready?” Sanger asked.

  She nodded.

  “Like I said, just waiting for a call.”

  The tech at the back of the surveillance van abruptly turned.

  “We’re in!” he called, lifting up the headphones and pulling them on. “I’ve got an outgoing call right now!”

  “Get the line secured,” the agent snapped.

  “Recording… now.”

  She reached out, flicking a switch. The screen snapped to life, filling with a fish-eyed image of the interior of Marq Lopez’s living room. Marq was sitting on the couch, laptop on his lap. Jude Alden stood in the kitchen behind him, cell phone in hand.

  “Pizza Palace,” a crackly voice answered. “What can I get for you?”

  “Adjust the feedback,” she hissed.

  The tech at the sound controls twisted the knobs on the mixing board, static fading.

  “Yeah,” Jude’s voice echoed, “I’d like to order two large pizzas, one pepperoni, one everything.”

  The last crackles and feedback faded. All eyes in the van were on the screen, watching as Jude Alden hung up the
phone, the sound dropping to the muffled audio of the ducted surveillance system.

  “God bless the Patriot Act,” Sanger chuckled. “Now we just need them to do something.”

  : : : : : : : : : :

  Jude first noticed the clicking sound in the phone when he was trying to adjust the wireless modem. Marq was working on his project again, and Jude had his phone open to the modem manufacturer’s website, so he decided to use the landline to call for pizza. The receiver kept clicking in and out while he spoke, snapping into abrupt clarity just as he finished the order. Jude glared at the phone in annoyance before hanging it back up.

  “Hey, Marq,” he said. “Your phone’s on the fritz!”

  “What’s that?” Marq asked. He kept programming, his body hunched over the screen.

  “Your phone,” Jude repeated, “it’s messed up.”

  Marq grunted indifferently. With a scowl, Jude went back to the task of adjusting the modem. He needed the internet to finish his work for King.

  : : : : : : : : : :

  Shireese and Indigo walked through the grocery store, side by side. Shireese was the only one doing the shopping; Indigo was texting, smiling to herself. As they reached the checkout, she turned off her phone, smiling.

  “Done already?” Indigo said, glancing up.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” Shireese said with a wink. “I take it that was Jude?

  Indigo sighed. Shireese was always trying to get involved in her life, and while most times that was awesome, she didn’t like the pressure. As they stepped up to the checkout, Indigo reached into the cart, pulling out the peppers and carrots, placing them on the moving tray. Shireese handed her a bag of organic beans.

  “You can pretend he doesn’t matter to you,” Shireese said. “Makes no difference to me. I was just wondering how things were going.”

  Indigo dropped the bag on the counter, glaring. “Things are fine, with Jude,” she said. “You should learn to trust me a bit.”

  Shireese smirked, and for a time they emptied the cart without talking. The teenage boy behind the counter had just started pulling items across the scale when Shireese cleared her throat. Indigo knew she had been waiting to say something else. Her roommate was nothing if not predictable.

  “You told him the rest of your story yet?”

  “If there was a reason to, I would. But there’s not.” Indigo slammed a can of corn down. “He’s fine and I’m fine and I want to leave it at that!”

  Shireese grumbled something under her breath that sounded a lot like “a lie”.

  “What did you say?!?” Indigo snapped.

  The boy at the counter glanced up, blinking.

  “Nothing,” Shireese said with a weary sigh. “It’s your life.”

  Indigo stomped to the end of the counter, starting to bag the groceries. “’Bout time you started remembering that,” she growled.

  : : : : : : : : : :

  When Indigo arrived at O’Reilly’s, Jude was already there. She sauntered through the room like she owned it, hips swaying in time to the music. Tanis was in the corner warming up with her band, Shireese fiddling with the speakers. The actual concert wouldn’t happen until ten. For now, the room was almost empty. This place wasn’t Jude’s choice for drinks and dinner; it was Indigo’s. The bar felt like her, and that made it easy. In tight jeans, a black tank top and leather jacket, she felt strong and sexy. No man’s idea of a woman, but her own.

  “Wow,” Jude gasped as she reached his side. “You look… amazing.”

  “You’re easy to impress,” she laughed, sliding onto the bench of the circular booth next to him. “I’m not even trying.”

  He put an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her neck. “You don’t have to try,” he whispered, “you’re perfect the way you are.”

  “I’m not,” she giggled, shaking her head. “But I kinda like that you think it.” She grinned. “It’s dumb but it’s awesome too.”

  Jude began to laugh and Indigo reached out, taking the half-empty beer bottle out of his hand, lifting it to her lips. He watched her drink it. When she set it back on the table, his gaze was intent on her mouth. Indigo grinned; Jude Alden’s thoughts were easy to read. Right now everything about him was yelling ‘sex’, and she didn’t even mind. It felt good to be here with him, to be herself. To not pretend.

  “You want to order?” she asked. “They’ve got some really great nachos, and ribs. But stay away from the wings.” She shuddered. “Certain death. Learned that the hard way.”

  “Certain death?” he scoffed.

  Indigo shrugged. “Well, it’s cheap for a reason,” she said. “But the nachos are good.”

  “You choose,” Jude said, his fingers moving over her back. “I’m just happy you’re here with me.”

  Indigo picked up the menu, hiding her grin behind it. It was stupid, she thought, how easy it was for him to make her happy. She peeked over the lip of the page. Jude was smiling to himself, nodding along to the music. She wondered if Marq was out tonight, or if she should risk taking him back to her place. She shoved the thought guiltily away as soon as it arrived. She didn’t take men home. But lately she’d been breaking all her rules.

  Jude looked over, catching her watching.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” she said, dropping her eyes.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, just thinking about things.”

  Jude’s fingers slid under her coat, moving against her tank top.

  “Things like what?”

  He untucked the shirt, and Indigo smiled. Jude was definitely going to be taking her home.

  “Oh, life stuff… school stuff,” she said with a shrug. That was almost true.

  “Your video done?”

  “Not totally,” she admitted.

  “Troubles with export?”

  “No, no. The editing’s going okay, I guess,” she said. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about getting a bit more footage.” She dropped the menu onto the table, sighing. “Not sure if I have time or not, but I might redo a couple parts.”

  The truth was, there was now a new gap in the story: one that went from her teens to twenties. The project could be fudged, but she’d spent enough time on it that she didn’t want it to be. Jude’s fingers began rubbing circles into the bare skin of her back, leaving her sighing.

  “If you want some help,” he said quietly, “I’d be happy to come along.”

  She frowned. There was a difference between being Indigo here, and being Indigo there. The rift between the two parts of her lives was so vast even she couldn’t see across it sometimes.

  “I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “I mean, I’d appreciate the help and all, but—”

  “Jude, my friend!” a familiar voice bellowed.

  Indigo felt the room tilt precariously sideways, her breathing sharpening as adrenaline flooded her limbs. Luca Brin, in a pinstriped suit and red tie, was striding forward, Patel a shadow behind him.

  “My God,” she whimpered, her back pressing up against the booth.

  Everything was happening too fast. Her mind was screaming too many things for her to keep up: Luca was in O’Reilly’s! Luca knew Jude! Luca had seen her again! She had to run! Her eyes darted from one corner of the bar to the other. Shireese was still leaning over the speaker, Tanis singing.

  “I thought it was you!” Luca said, reaching the table. He turned his attention on Indigo, eyes bright with humor. “Now you, I did not expect to see here!”

  For a half second, she didn’t know which role she was supposed to play. She hovered in between then and now, terror leaving her mute. In a single heartbeat, the moment passed. Luca reached out his hand, and she fell back into the role she knew the best: survivor.

  Indigo forced herself to smile coyly, extending her hand, waiting while he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She fought down the urge to recoil.

  “Luca,” she said with a breathy giggle, “what a surprise to see you here!�
��

  He gave a hearty laugh, slapping Jude hard on the shoulder, and settling into the horseshoe-shaped booth next to him. Jude’s skin was grey; he looked like he was going to be sick. As Luca slid in, Jude’s hip bumped up against Indigo. His eyes moved from her, to Patel, who was blocking the exit from the booth on the other side, to Luca, and back. Indigo was still struggling to figure out how he fit into all of this. It was like discovering that everything she understood about the world was wrong.

  Jude Alden wasn’t an escape, he was the one she should be running from.

  “Surprised to see you too,” Luca said, “but then you’ve been away a while.”

  Indigo smiled coyly, a door closing in her mind. She would never come here again.

  “You have something I need,” Luca said to Jude, his tone changing. “And I told you I wanted an update next time I saw you.” All humor had disappeared from his face. “That time is now.”

  Indigo stopped breathing as everything clicked into place. Jude worked for the mob. Realizing it, an endless stream of details abruptly made sense: the restaurants that were far beyond his means, the apartment that no techie should be able to afford, the impossible hours he worked, the days he disappeared and then returned without explanation.

  He was a criminal too.

  She turned to Jude, the mask of control wavering. She wanted to rage at him, but she couldn’t. Luca was on the other side of the booth.

  “I… I don’t have the report done,” Jude stammered. He looked at Indigo pleadingly. His eyes were so wide there was a ring of white around the green. “I’m sorry!” he gasped. Indigo didn’t know if the apology was for Luca or for her.

  Luca leaned closer, lips twisting cruelly. Again, Indigo fought down the urge to bolt.

  “This is the one and only warning I’m going to give you,” he snarled. “You get me that report in the next twenty-four hours, or I will have to remind you of your obligations.” Luca’s eyes flickered to Indigo and then back to Jude. “You wouldn’t want me to do that, would you?”

  Indigo could feel her breathing beginning to pick up. She was no longer frozen, but ready to run. She slid down the bench of the booth, moving herself away from Jude, smiling at Luca at the same time.