Line in the Shadow

by Clancy Nacht

As soon as Rex was out of her line of sight, he made his way into a small, disused room and called Masters’s personal mobile. He’d wanted to put off the paperwork and bureaucratic evaluations of his actions until the Graves situation was handled, but he couldn’t let this go a moment longer. As soon as Masters picked up, Rex gave his sign. “I went to the crossroad.”

  “I believe I’m sinking down.” Masters sounded groggy and annoyed. It was the middle of the night, but the truth was, Masters always sounded a little groggy and annoyed. “I’ve already heard about it, Carver. I expect a report explaining how a coffee shop musician has implications to national security first thing.”

  “Sir, I believe the other party in the incident is the matter of national security. I’ve seen that man before at HQ. I recognized his face.” Rex paused there, waiting for some response from Masters.

  Maybe this was one more need-to-know situation above his pay grade despite his having such clearance he probably knew a few things the President didn’t. The difference was that Rex never saw more than a few pieces of any puzzle. That was what Masters was for, and whatever Masters said, Rex would have to live with.

  After a few quiet moments, Masters spoke. “Is that why you shot him? Do you remember his name? Was he carrying his ID?”

  “I shot him because he pointed a gun at me.” Rex was proud of his flat, unruffled tone. “He was not carrying ID. His sidearm was not official issue. I informed the first responder to process the body in accordance with heightened security protocols and maintain chain of custody. If you want any further information, I suggest you contact the coroner.”

  Belatedly, Rex added, “I’m at the hospital with the victim in hopes of gathering any further information necessary to facilitate this investigation.”

  Though he didn’t know why, he couldn’t bring himself to report the familial connection to the Company.

  “But it was one of our men, you’re certain? I don’t suppose you know in what context you saw him. Was he one of the junior analysts? A security guard? I need to figure out what this person was working on. You realize that man you protected could very well be someone we needed to be rid of.”

  Though Rex had tried to ignore that thought, it was undeniably a possibility. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, fighting to keep his breathing level. “I didn’t say he was Company, but he had the clearance to be in HQ’s lobby. I saw him downstairs between reception and the elevator bank. I’m certain of that much. As to the rest, I suggest getting prints from the coroner for comparison with security files at HQ, sir.”

  Rex paused, squeezing his eyes tighter shut. “Am I being called in?”

  “No. Not yet, anyway.” Masters sighed. “But it’s my dick on the line too, I hope you know that.” Masters remained silent as that sank in. “I’ll send someone to take custody and we’ll see where we are.”

  Rex breathed a little easier he wasn’t being ordered out of the Graveses’ lives forever…and that he wasn’t imminently to be subjected to imprisonment within HQ and hours, possibly days, of intense interrogation. He could still be called in at any time, but he’d try not to think about that, just like he tried never to think about the possibility that one day he’d outlive his usefulness and find some hot young agent pointing a gun in his face.

  That had been less likely when he was married and raising a child. Now… Well.

  “Yes, sir. I believe my track record speaks for itself, but no one is infallible. Should you require my presence, I will report immediately.” Rex displayed the requisite mixture of deference and pride in his work that had enabled him to survive this long in the Company. It was easier on the phone, when Masters couldn’t see his sour expression.

  The line went dead.

  Exhaling, Rex turned and looked around as if the answers to his problems lay somewhere in the dull gray-and-beige institutional decor, perhaps hidden beneath the evergreen leaves of a semi-realistic potted ficus. A wave of acidic heat caught in his gullet as he realized with certainty there were no answers.

  That man you protected could very well be someone we needed to be rid of.

  There was no chance Rex would throw away his entire life for some man he’d fucked in a loo. If Ike’s sister truly had been CIA, perhaps the man Rex shot had been on legitimate business. Perhaps Rex should have looked the other way, let Ike be made victim of an apparent mugging. Perhaps Rex should walk away now, leave Kaylee with her clipboard and juice cups and precocious turns of phrase, and sleep off this mess back in his hotel room.

  “Agent Carver?”

  Rex turned around to see a pretty, slightly plump doctor eyeing him expectantly. No mark on her finger from a missing wedding ring. If he needed to charm her, he could. Instead, he replied with a tired, “Yes?”

  “Mr. Graves is out of preliminary surgery. I was told his daughter is here?”

  Rex nodded as he reached into his coat to indulge in another pill. He took it dry, without looking away from the doctor. “You’ll let her know when he’s moved? He’ll need a private room and a foldout for Kaylee to sleep on.”

  “Well, that’ll be up to admi—”

  “He’ll need those things. Please make sure it happens. The CIA would appreciate your cooperation in this.” Rex didn’t know that the CIA would appreciate any of this, but they were asking enough of him already.

  He imagined the pill he’d swallowed hitting bottom in his stomach. The acids attacked the small chemical pellet instead of Rex’s esophagus, beginning the wondrous chain reaction. There in his gut, the artificial calm was synthesized, travelling outward molecule by molecule to suffuse his whole with a sense of well-being.

  “—will of course do my best as an American,” the doctor was saying when Rex tuned in. The woman wore a look of patriotism that made him think she probably helped treat 9/11 victims, or wished she had. Rex wondered if she’d still be able to summon that expression if she knew the things he did.

  “Thank you. Of course you will.” Rex gave her his best smile—a little enigmatic, dashing—to leave with her a positive and cinematically approved impression of her government’s intelligence community.

  Returning to Kaylee, Rex shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’s all right. They’ll let you know when they move him to his room. I arranged for you to stay with him for now.” Something in her expression made Rex hesitate. Instead of saying goodbye, he heard himself saying, “Would you like me to keep you company until then?”

  Her inner conflict was written all over her face. She clearly wanted to be an adult, but an emergency room in the middle of the night was nowhere for a child alone. Instead of outright admitting she wanted him to stay, she said, “My babysitter had to go back home to her family.”

  “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be.” Rex took a seat near her and offered a thin smile.

  Witnessing Kaylee’s composure in the face of what might have been the loss of her sole remaining guardian, he wished there was more he could do for her. As it was, he felt filthy, as if his sins both past and future had coated his skin with a tangible film; he didn’t deserve to be sitting here with her like he was a decent person.

  Would Rex really kill Ike if Masters ordered him to?

  It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever done.

  Tonight, though, Rex could be here for a little girl going through something far too familiar to him from his own childhood. Falling back on a classic, he tried, “Are you hungry? There’s a vending machine around the corner with candy and chips and stuff. Promise I won’t tell your dad you were eating junk food if you promise not to tell him I’m the one who bought it.”

  “I’m not really hungry.” She eyed Rex with the sort of piercing stare that made him feel like she was seeing right through him.

  Could she possibly know what he was thinking about Ike? Could she know who he was or what he was capable of?

  Then she relented. “Maybe M&Ms would be okay.” Instead of waiting for him, she got up, picked up her bag and guitar, an
d then followed him to the vending machine. “Do you have a family that’s waiting for you?”

  Rex gave her a raised eyebrow as he pulled out his wallet. As he dropped coins into the slot, he asked, “Regular or peanut?”

  “Peanut. Then we can say it has nutritional value and neither of us should get in trouble.” She smiled briefly. “I ask because you don’t talk down to me like most adults do. Well the adults that Ike has over. They don’t have kids and act like I’m four.”

  The packet of peanut M&Ms dropped to the bottom of the machine, and Rex let Kaylee retrieve it before dropping in more coins and punching the code for the Snickers bar. “Peanuts for everyone, then.”

  Rex grabbed his candy bar, then fixed Kaylee with an appraising look. “No one who’s lost a parent is ever really a child again. I’m just here to cut through some red tape for you and make sure you’re taken seriously.” Seeing her expression, he relented. “And no, I don’t have a family waiting. I’m divorced.”

  She looked down at her candy. “Sorry.” Without hesitation, she ripped the package open, picked out an orange piece, and popped it in her mouth. After a moment of thought, she looked up at him again. “Did you lose a parent?”

  “Both.” Rex laughed softly at the realization Kaylee knew more about him than Ike did. He chewed a mouthful of candy bar, swallowed, and continued. “I wasn’t much older than you when they died. Ended up in the system. Guess that makes me top contender for least likely of Ike’s friends to underestimate your intellect.”

  Then, despite every part of his brain telling him not to, Rex asked, “Does Ike have a lot of ‘adults’ over?”

  Her brows rose briefly before she endeavored to answer Rex’s question. “Sometimes. He has a friend that’s really into comic books, but I don’t think he’s a friend, exactly. He’s a neighbor and he lives alone. He shows up sometimes and explains all of the plots to Dad and then leaves.”

  She ate another M&M. “Sometimes people he works with come over. Nate comes over sometimes. And other neighbors. Usually it’s for taco night.”

  The picture Kaylee painted of the Graves household was nothing like Rex had expected—more like a Hallmark family special. Something jealous and wounded twisted inside Rex before he compartmentalized it and smiled. “It sounds like he has a lot of friends to help you both get through this then.”

  “Yeah, like Nate.” She frowned at the package of candy and then twisted off pieces of the wrapper, seeming bent on destruction. “He’ll be fine because I’ll take care of him. I don’t think crazy old Vince is going to be much help.” She sized up Rex again. “You could come over if you wanted to.”

  Rex wondered what Kaylee saw when she looked at him, whether she was seeing a divorced orphan who needed a taco night or an ally who’d saved Ike’s life. “Maybe sometime I’ll drop by and make sure Ike’s letting you change his bandages and give him his medicine.”

  She reached out and touched Rex’s hand lightly. “You should. Mom said the field agents lived a lonely life. It’s worse when you’re alone, I bet.”

  That observation combined with the gentle contact made Rex sigh. He held Kaylee’s gaze for a few moments, then looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s what I know.”

  But not all I’ve known... It’s harder than ever now.

  Rex took a vengeful bite of his candy bar and then jammed some quarters into the drink vendor. He bought a bottle of lemonade, then looked sidelong at Kaylee and raised a brow in question. “Does Ike let you drink cola?”

  “It makes me jumpy.” She stood next to him and surveyed the options. “Water is good.”

  Kaylee looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Wednesday night is taco night. That’s usually when he invites people over because it’s not too expensive. But spaghetti Sunday is good, too. It’s just more of an awkward night for people to show up. People usually want to have Sunday dinner with their families and stuff.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” Rex punched the button for water and waited for the machine’s rumbling to stop before stooping to snag the bottle. He handed it to Kaylee. “I’m not in town often. I’m sure Spaghetti Sunday and Taco Wednesdays will be okay without me. I can only imagine how badly it would go if I showed up to dinner the same night as Nate.”

  “After this stunt, Nate’s not welcome to either.” Kaylee folded her arms and shook her head. Then her brow furrowed. “But why would he be bothered if you showed up? You saved Ike’s life. He’s lucky.”

  Her cheeks lit up suddenly as if she’d just realized what would cause Nate to abandon Ike and why Nate would be upset by Rex’s presence. “Oh.”

  Rex’s cheeks flushed too, as though her innocence had shamed him. “Anyway, it’s probably best for Ike that Nate and I not be in the same zip code. Fortunately, I’ll probably be a couple thousand miles away by the end of the week, and Nate can forget I exist. The sanctity of tacos will be preserved, and you can sprinkle powdered Scotch bonnet peppers on Nate’s dinner to teach him not to be a douchenozzle.”

  “Nate is doomed to always be a douchenozzle.” Kaylee put her hand on Rex’s arm. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You saved Ike’s life. I know he’d want to thank you himself. It would be impolite not to let him at least cook dinner.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” He began to say more, then noticed a nurse peering around the area where they’d been sitting earlier. Rex raised his hand and waved him over, then looked down at Kaylee. “Looks like it’s that time. Good luck, Kaylee.”

  The nurse looked between Rex and Kaylee when she reached them, then held out her hand to the little girl. “C’mon, sweetie. Your daddy’s still unconscious, but he’ll be waking up in a bit and it’ll be good if you’re there.”

  Kaylee took the nurse’s hand. “Yeah, okay.” She turned back to Rex. “Promise me.”

  Rex stared into Kaylee’s earnest, red-rimmed eyes. “Oh, twist my arm. I promise.”

  Chapter 5

  Ike grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. The dishwasher hummed, full of dishes Kaylee had carefully rinsed and loaded. She was taking her duties looking after him very seriously.

  He’d let her help with dinner, but he wasn’t sure he wanted her making stir fry by herself yet, so he put her in charge of the rice. Cooking with her was fun. He’d found an ease teaching her that he hadn’t thought himself capable of in his younger years.

  Maybe he was lucky to have such a good kid, but they hadn’t quite reached the thorny teenage years yet. Hopefully he’d instilled her with enough grounding to keep her from getting into too much trouble, but he understood the need to explore boundaries. Kaylee would need to make mistakes and find her own way.

  Ike sighed as he twisted the cap from the bottle.

  “Hey, are you supposed to drink while you’re taking pain pills?” Kaylee called from the living room. She’d set up camp on the couch to do homework and watch teenagers singing popular music.

  Ike limped to the living room. “No, I’m not.”

  He carefully sat in his recliner, doing his best not to show how painful it was.

  She glared at the beer in his hand.

  “Not taking the pills. Can’t take ’em while I’m at work anyway.” He winked. Enough time had passed and he was healed up enough that Ike hadn’t taken the pills for the past week.

  Kaylee had protested his return to tiling, but he had bills to pay, and he wasn’t willing to dip into her college fund.

  She dropped her pen. “They’re supposed to help you heal!”

  “No, they’re supposed to block pain. If I don’t feel the pain, I could injure myself again.”

  “Oh, but you can have beer?” She rolled her eyes in a manner that Ike knew was likely to become familiar.

  He raised his arms to gesture at his recliner. “Where am I going? I’m not using any power tools. Besides, if I’m going to enjoy this”—he pointed at the television—”I’m going to need something.”

  Ike gr
inned as she huffed and then extolled the virtues of her musical programming. He knew all about it; he just liked to rile her.

  The way a smile kept trying to creep up on her told him she knew this was a game. She was making a point about the positive gay role models on the show when the doorbell rang.

  They gave each other questioning looks. Was the other expecting company?

  “I’ll get it,” she said as she set her things aside.

  “No, I should.” Ike put his beer on the side table and started to push himself up.

  Kaylee stuck out her tongue at him. “No, no, you’ve been drinking.”

  Ike frowned, but she was already at the door. He got up anyway, just in case it was something he’d need to handle.

  She opened the door, leaving the chain lock engaged the way he’d taught her.

  “Oh!” Immediately she backed up and closed the door to disengage the chain. “Hey, Agent Carver!”

  Agent Carver? It took a moment for Ike to place the name. Ike quickly limped over to the front door to see the man standing in the hallway as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there.

  Or maybe it was that he looked so tired. His eyes were red but there were bluish bags under them and a deep worry line between his eyebrows. This time he wore a charcoal suit—tweed, probably because of the change in season. A trench coat was draped over one arm as if concealing something beneath.

  Kaylee stood aside to let Rex in. “I thought you were going to come for dinner. I cooked!”

  “Hello, Ms. Graves. I’m sorry I missed that. I bet the food on the plane wasn’t half as tasty, but I don’t often choose my own hours.” Rex looked past Kaylee to Ike with a faint smile, still lingering in the doorway as if waiting to be invited in. Then he looked back at Kaylee and stage whispered, “Did you ever tell Ike you made me promise to visit, or do I look like a colossal weirdo right now?”

  She blushed. “Um, Dad, I made Agent Carver promise to come visit so you could thank him.”

  It took Ike a moment to digest that. He smiled. “Oh, of course. Come in.”