by Jim Heskett
Knife Point
Layne Parrish Book 5
Jim Heskett
Contents
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I. Inside The Lines
II. Stray Cats And Dogs
III. Family Secrets
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IN WHICH I TIME TRAVEL
Books by Jim Heskett
About the Author
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Part I
Inside The Lines
1
Layne Parrish sipped an Imperial Stout while his daughter Cameron unleashed a fierce attack on the page with a blue crayon. She colored a helicopter with wanton disregard for the lines. Blue everywhere. The blades, the cockpit, the landing skids.
Layne had tried to help guide her aim, but she didn’t seem interested. At four years old, staying inside the lines was a little beyond her grasp. In the end, what did it matter? There would be time to color inside the lines later. Carpe diem.
Across the table from them at Sunshine Brewing Company in Redding, California, Inessa Parrish sat. Actually, not so much sat as perched on her chair with a scowl on her face. Of the three Parrishes at the table, Inessa seemed to be the only one not having a good time.
She had the same last name as Layne, but she was not currently related. His ex-wife. She was long and tall, with high cheekbones and sharp blonde hair. Almost as sharp as her Russian accent. It had been years since she’d bothered to soften the edge of her voice when speaking to Layne, but that was to be expected.
“Cameron, eat your chicken fingers,” Inessa said.
“I wanna save it for later,” Cam said, not looking up at her mother. Inessa’s scowl deepened, and Layne decided not to get involved. He remembered hearing the “starving children in Africa” line from his mother many times in his youth, and it had never made sense to him back then. What did eating all his peas and carrots have to do with downtrodden kids in Africa?
He was a third wheel on this trip away from Colorado, anyway. Same hotel, different room, taking care of Cam during the days while Inessa would work. She was in town to do a few woodsy photo shoots for a clothing line, and Layne had tagged along since he had nothing better to do.
At least, that was the reason he’d given Inessa for tagging along. He did have an ulterior motive to visit Redding he hadn’t shared with her. The timing had worked out perfectly since he’d intended to come here anyway for a couple years now.
“New ink?” Inessa asked, her eyes focusing on a particular section of the tattoos blanketing his arms from wrist to shoulder.
Layne shook his head. “Not for a while, now. Same ones.”
Most of their conversations were like this. Short, strained, not ending well. That was fine with Layne because he wasn’t here to spend time with Inessa or do any sort of work to repair their relationship. Only Cam. Everything was for Cam.
When they’d arrived a couple days ago, Inessa had brought up that age-old topic of how Layne could afford to go gallivanting around the country and not have to work. After all, he was retired, not only from a particular nameless government agency but also retired from his post-retirement security consulting business. Double retired from two jobs not known for being lucrative. Inessa had brought it up, and Layne had once again opted not to answer her questions. Since then, they’d said maybe thirty words to each other.
He drained the rest of his beer and stood, not able to reach his full 6’4” due to the low-hanging light fixture thing above the table.
“Daddy, where are you going?”
“Potty,” he said, brushing his daughter’s blonde hair out of her eyes. “Maybe you can finish the helicopter and we can both color the dolphin on the next page together when I get back.”
She pursed her lips in consideration and then nodded her consent. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and scooted out from the chair. The Sunshine Brewing Company was a huge, open room, with enormous ceilings and wood everywhere. Like many restaurants in the area, bear-related paraphernalia decorated the walls. The touristy places seemed to portray a wilderness-soaked vision of Northern California. Layne had only been here a couple days, so he was still getting a feel for the city. It reminded him a lot of Boulder, where he kept a condo to be close to his daughter and to make joint custody easier.
He strolled over to a large window overlooking the city. A bike path led out, with a Saturday morning California sun rising overhead. Blue sky met the horizon with a thin sheen of yellow that might have been far away smog. Cyclists rolled by with mountains in the background, water from the Sacramento River glistening like diamonds as it cut through the middle of his view. A pretty city.
But, Layne wasn’t here only to see the sights and spend time with his daughter. Despite what his ex-wife thought, he did have a motive for coming to Redding, specifically. He was on the hunt for a man who he used to know as “Thorny.” Real name Jonah Bramble. A man who had cut off all communications after he’d disappeared about six years ago, only a week before Layne himself had retired from the organization they’d both worked for.
Jonah had been spotted in Redding. CCTV footage had shown him coming out the back of this restaurant, actually, about eighteen months ago. Layne needed to seek out Jonah. To find him and ask why he hadn’t been in touch. It wasn’t uncommon for ex-shadows to retire quietly with no social media and no cards at Christmas, but Jonah had become completely invisible.
Layne wanted to know why. He needed to ask Jonah why he hadn’t surfaced. And, to ask him if their shared secret still belonged only to the two of them.
Layne hunted around for the bathroom and saw a sign carved into varnished wood pointing him toward the area with the massive stainless steel vats. He found the men’s and women’s, but when he pushed on the door, the men’s was locked. So, he waited. As he did, he looked on the opposite wall from the bathroom, where a collection of framed pictures covered most of the wall leading into the kitchen. They were like class pictures, rows of employees all smiling for the camera in their tie-dyed work t-shirts. Layne skimmed over their faces.
And then, something caught his eye. A face among the crowd. Initially, it stood out because the man in the picture looked older than the average staffer. Amid the smiling twenty-somethings was a man closer to Layne’s forty-plus, with a thick blond beard and glasses.
But, the face was unmistakable. Jonah Bramble, a man Layne had last worked with in New Orleans on his second-to-last operation, six years ago.
“Hey,” said a voice to Layne’s left. He turned to find a young man with a pencil sticking out from behind one ear, and a half-apron across his waist. Waiter. He looked about half Layne’s age. Tall kid, taut, with muscles pulling his tie-dye shirt across his chest. College kid, maybe, or maybe someone living the waiter lifestyle to avoid college.
“What do you bench?” the kid asked.
The fact that Layne had a bodybuilder’s frame often invited this question, and Layne didn’t usually mind answering it. He was a gym rat, but not the boastful sort. Not the kind who posted videos of all his workouts on social media. That seemed more like something this kid would do.
“Not as much as I used to, man, that’s for sure.”
The kid gave a polite laugh. “I hear you.”
Layne knew the waiter had no idea what he meant by that, but he would, in about twenty years. He pointed at the picture containing Jonah Bramble. “There’s no date on this one. When was this picture taken?”
The kid squinted at it. “We do one twice a year, usually. Spring and fall. That one was three years ago, I think? Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Are yo
u in it?”
“Yeah, dude, that’s me in the second row.”
Layne pointed at Jonah's face. “You know this guy?”
The kid leaned in closer. “Oh yeah, I remember that guy. Wade.”
“Wade? That’s his name?”
“For sure. He was the oldest guy in the kitchen. Kinda quiet, you know? He was also pretty funny, if you could actually get him to talk. He was working on a certification or something, so he was here part-time. Mostly nights and weekends.”
Layne studied Jonah, also known on the team as Thorny, who had morphed into Wade while in California, for some reason. “Does he still work here?”
“No way. He took off a long time ago. A year, at least. One day, he didn’t show up. No notice or anything like that, so we were all kinda pissed when we had to pick up his slack. But, you know, that’s the restaurant life.”
“Do you know what happened to him?”
“I heard he finished getting his certification or whatever and went to work at Hillcrest.”
“Hillcrest.”
The kid nodded. “Yeah. The looney bin place past Pine Grove. I know they help people up there or whatever, but it looks like something out of a horror movie.” The kid’s eyes darted left and right, and he took the pencil from behind his ear. “Now, uh, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I have a lot of tables.”
Layne turned back to the picture, staring at Jonah. With a beard and glasses, he would have been unrecognizable to most. Was it actually Jonah? If so, why was he going by a different name?
Layne looked again, leaning in closer. Definitely Jonah.
2
They had adjoining rooms at the Redding Mountain Lodge. Aside from a couple of messy couplings after they had first divorced, Layne and Inessa had not shared a bed since days before the birth of their daughter. Once Layne had learned she had cheated on him and he likely wasn’t Cameron’s biological dad, Layne would no longer allow himself to do something as intimate as wake up next to Inessa.
He sat on the bed in his room as Inessa changed outfits in hers. Cameron ran like a demon from one room to the other, using the door between the rooms as a bridge. She loved the adjoining rooms and had made a big show each day of choosing whether she would sleep in Mommy’s or Daddy’s.
Layne flicked a finger along his trackpad on the website for Hillcrest Family & Children’s Services. The website was about ten years out of date, with low-resolution graphics that didn’t properly render on the page, and it didn’t look optimized for mobile. Mental health had never been a high-tech industry, and Layne wasn’t surprised to see not much had changed.
On the careers page, he scrolled down to find a picture for the man using the alias Wade Nicholson. In it, he looked a lot more like Layne remembered Jonah “Thorny” Bramble looking: short, muscular, with a buzzed blond haircut and a hint of stubble. He had always projected an “outdoor catalog model” look, even without flannel and hiking boots. Broad shoulders and a lean body that didn’t communicate how strong he was. Layne remembered feeling astounded at how Jonah could produce such speed and power from his lithe frame.
Gone were the glasses and beard from the picture at the restaurant. That appeared to have been an incognito ensemble, and now he looked as he used to. The fact that he’d changed his name… Layne didn’t know what to think of that. It could mean any number of things.
These questions needed answers. Layne told himself he wanted to reconnect with Jonah/Wade for reasons other than making sure his partner had kept their secret for these six years. He told himself he wanted to make sure Jonah was okay since he had so quickly disappeared after New Orleans.
Like a lot of the shadow operatives who had retired from Daphne Kurek’s little team with no name, Jonah hadn’t done so happily. Layne himself had retired in disgust one week later, after the London operation.
They were careless back then. Like athletes at the top of their game, thinking nothing would ever change and they would always win, even when they didn’t.
Layne needed to know Jonah was okay. He needed to know what could inspire him to become a completely different person, with no announcements or general contact with the old world. Maybe he’d entered Witness Protection, like another friend Layne had. But, Layne didn’t think so. If someone from the team had gone that route, the Marshal’s service would’ve given them a heads-up about it.
He scrolled a little further down and noted an interesting detail about the careers page. The last staff picture was a silhouette with a question mark over it. Hillcrest was hiring. Layne clicked through to find the job openings and saw one for either an LPC or LMFT licensed in California to work with both adults and children.
He could hear Cameron in the other room, bouncing on the bed. Within seconds, Inessa scolded their daughter and made her stop. Layne wasn’t sure why it was a problem. Jumping on the bed seemed like good exercise, and he didn’t think a thirty-five-pound girl would break the box springs. But, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t contradict Inessa. She had a right to parent the way she wanted to.
When Cameron appeared in the doorway between the two rooms, Layne looked up at her. She said nothing, only looked at him with puppy dog eyes, lower lip quivering.
Layne shook his head. “No jumping.”
She looked at the spare bed in his room, bedspread perfectly made, ideal for jumping. Still, she said nothing.
“You can’t jump on the bed in my room, either.”
Without a word, shoulders slumped, Cameron sulked her way back into the other room. Layne didn’t mind. He expected her to play her parents off each other. So far, she hadn’t made it work. At least, he thought it hadn’t worked.
After a few seconds, he could hear LEGOs in a box shuffling, and he considered the matter to be closed. He went back to scouring the Hillcrest website looking for clues. The job opening page stared at him, and he let himself picture it. There were many moving parts, a lot of work, and a lot of things could go wrong. But, what better way to get close to Jonah? A legitimate reason to stand alongside him for an extended period. It would be much better than bumping into him at a deli.
On the homepage, he noted that Hillcrest was hosting a formal fundraiser this evening. He had to assume Jonah would be there. If he did try to get a job interview at Hillcrest, this would be a great first step to test the viability. Plus, maybe a chance to make initial contact with the former shadow.
Layne closed the lid of his laptop and stood up to retrieve his nicotine lozenges from the nightstand. Inessa entered his room. She was swabbing a cotton ball underneath one eye. The way the light from the bathroom framed her, she looked like an angel. Then, Layne noted the scowl on her face, and she blurred into plain old Inessa Parrish again.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to rent a tux. You’re done for the day, right?”
“Yes, I’m done for the day. I thought we would take Cameron to the park across the street.”
“I can’t. This is important.”
Inessa glared at him. “I’m sure. Why do you need a tuxedo?”
“Because I have plans for this evening.”
“Why would you possibly have plans? You know no one in Redding. You have nowhere to be.”
She stared at him, cold, and Layne took a breath. It would be too easy to engage, and he had to remind himself of the promise he’d made not to fight in front of Cameron. As he considered his reply, their daughter ran into the room. She had opposing Matchbox cars in each hand, flying them through the air like spaceships. When she saw the non-verbal stalemate between her parents, Cameron stepped between them, breaking their line of sight.
“Daddy, what are you doing?”
Rather than answer Inessa’s question, Layne dropped to one knee in front of his little girl. “Hey, little one. I need to go out for a bit and take care of some errands.”
“Will you bring me candy?”
“I don’t think so. I won’t be back until after your bedtime. Maybe I can be back earl
y enough to kiss you goodnight, but I can’t promise.”
She pouted but looked up at him with a glint of hope in her eye.
Layne pursed his lips. “Okay, maybe you can have candy in the morning if Mommy says you were good at bedtime.”
Cam cheered and continued her Matchbox air race around the room. Inessa deepened her scowl, but Layne ignored her as he snatched the keys to his rental car. He didn’t have an invite to the fundraiser, but that would be a problem to solve later. First, he needed to look the part.
3
Layne found Hillcrest nestled in the woods on the north end of Redding. A complex of buildings at the end of a winding road, on a hill, overlooking the town. At night, the building lit up like a lighthouse, guiding ships to safety. It wasn’t anything like the spooky and desolate place the waiter at the restaurant had described.
Hillcrest provided mental health services, mostly to the indigent people of Redding. Group and individual therapy, medical assessment, and day treatment.
As Layne parked and handed the rental car keys to the valet, his eyes trailed over the building. If his life hadn’t taken such a severe left turn after grad school, he had no doubt he would’ve ended up working in a place like this. After graduating from Colorado State University with a Masters in Psychology, Layne had intended to pursue an LPC and become a therapist. But, Daphne Kurek had intervened, and his life then took a different path.
The air had turned crisp in the evening, a nice change from the heat of the late summer day. After a couple days in the area, Layne had adjusted to the humidity and found the climate to be generally pleasant from morning to night. He might have felt differently in the dead of winter or the heat of mid-summer, but now, it seemed perfect. Were it not for his daughter in Denver, he might move to a place like this. It’s not as if he had anything else specifically tying him to Colorado.