Re/Paired

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Re/Paired Page 31

by Michele Zurlo


  When Keith emerged from the shower and found her still lying down, he approached with a frown marring his brow. “Kat? Are you okay?”

  “I’m not going to work. I got someone to cover my cases, and I’m taking the day off.” She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. It had been tickling her nose, and her strategy of trying to ignore it wasn’t working.

  He sat down next to her and pressed his palm to her forehead, a sure sign he had no experience feeling for a fever. “You’re pale and warm. I’ll take you to the doctor. Let me make a phone call.”

  She caught him as he went to get up, tugging on his arm to make him sit back down. “I’m warm because I’m still under the covers. I’m pale because I’m feeling achy and nauseated. I probably have the flu, and there’s nothing a doctor can do about it. Mostly I’m staying home because yesterday was a phenomenally crappy day and I just want to sleep.”

  “It wasn’t that bad. We came clean with Malcolm. He took it better than I thought he would. Banning violence was a brilliant call on your part. And my mother tried to sell my sister’s kids to us. It wasn’t the best engagement present, but I imagine she could come up with worse.” He grinned in an attempt to cheer her up, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  She tried to laugh at his joke, but all she managed was a small smile. “We’re not engaged.”

  Keith shrugged. “We told Malcolm we were dating. Same thing.”

  Katrina sobered. From somewhere she found the strength to sit up. “You’re okay with that?”

  “The moment you told me I couldn’t ejaculate on your face, I began to realize my number was up.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve had time to mull it over and accept it. I’m more than okay with spending the rest of my life with you.”

  “This doesn’t count as a proposal. I don’t think we’re quite to that point yet. I’m in no rush.” She brushed a kiss over his smooth cheek to soften that blow. “Now, you go to work, and let me spend all day in my pajamas. I promise to sleep a lot and drink at least one protein shake today.”

  Lying back down, she gave him a tired smile. He was wearing that enigmatic, stoic expression that made her feel like he was dissecting her. At last, he shook his head regretfully. “Honey, I can’t leave you here alone.”

  Tears pricked her eyes, and he noticed, because he took her hand. She cursed her damn hormones and blamed the stress of not feeling well. “Don’t make me go to work. The chief suspended Aaron yesterday. He accused me of betraying him and taking his job because I was appointed second chair on the Holbrook case. Then my place was broken into, and telling Malcolm was stressful, and then your mother… I truly can’t believe she said those things in an FBI interrogation room to a federal prosecutor. It says right on the wall that the room is monitored.”

  “I’ve never been convinced she could read all that well.” He heaved a sigh. “All right. You can stay home today. I can go in late, but I can’t take the entire day off. I’ll call your dad to come over and sit with you.”

  With victory on her side, she went back to sleep, getting up only when he made her come downstairs for breakfast. Then she crashed on his very comfortable recliner in the family room, a cooking show providing the background noise for her dreams.

  She woke up to mild cramping, but she wasn’t sure if it was from her period or her other malaise. Keith had gone, but her father occupied the other chair. He had the remote for the TV in his hand.

  “Hey, Dad. Thanks for coming over.”

  He started and tore his attention from the commercial for cholesterol medication. “Sweetie, you’re up. How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  With a grimace, he turned off the TV. “You don’t look like you’re feeling okay. Keith said you had the flu, and you look like you have the flu.”

  Only her father could get away with telling her she looked like crap and still make her remember what it was like to be his cherished little girl. “I’ll be okay. I just need rest. And one of those powder flu therapy mixtures that has aspirin in it. I feel like somebody beat me up. I could go for some tea.”

  Her father raised a thoughtful brow. It struck her how much her brothers resembled their father. It wasn’t just in their looks and build, but in the air of authority and the way they inspired people to have confidence in them. “I’ll make you some tea, sweetheart.”

  She wanted more than plain tea. She wanted to take something that would knock her out until she woke up feeling a hell of a lot better. Keith never had anything like that on hand. Whenever he got sick, he relied on her and her mother to bring over soups and medications. In some ways, Keith was a very typical male. “Will you go to the pharmacy for me? I need some other things too. I’ll make a list.”

  She needed feminine hygiene products. Her father had long ago established that he was willing to purchase those items as long as it was written on a list and not said aloud.

  He chuckled. “You’re just like your mother.”

  It was a compliment. Her father thought the sun and moon rose and set on her mother. “Thanks. I try.”

  Keith had put her phone on the side table next to the chair, probably so he could have instant access to her. She texted her list to her father’s phone. That way he couldn’t lose it.

  “Honey, we need to talk about you and Keith.”

  The tone in her father’s voice was the same one he’d used when he sat her down at the age of fifteen to tell her that her dog had died while she was at school. She’d been heartbroken. She had no idea what her parents knew and didn’t know about Keith, though she assumed that Malcolm had given their parents an earful the night before.

  “Daddy—”

  He held up a hand, and she fell silent. Mario Legato was going to have his say, and she was going to be a good daughter and listen.

  “Katrina Marie, I love you more than anything. I’d give my life for you. I know that Keith has had more than his share of problems, and he’s worked really hard to overcome them. He didn’t grow up in a good home. I know he used to be a drunk. When Malcolm first brought him around, your mother and I could smell the liquor on him a mile off. We’ve tried to shelter you from that, all of us, even Keith. He’s a strong man, but he’s got some pretty thick scars. I’m talking the emotional kind.”

  Mario took a breath, and Katrina tried to talk as fast as she could. “Daddy, I know all that. He has a good heart.”

  The look he gave her shut her up. “I know he has a good heart. Your mother and I wouldn’t have let him into our home and welcomed him into our family if we couldn’t see the good in him. He’s the one who doesn’t think he has a good heart. He’s the one who doesn’t think he’s good enough to be loved. As much as I’ve treated him like my own son, he keeps all of us at a distance.”

  She was trembling now, not from the pain, but from the impending heartbreak. In her whole life, she’d never done a single thing to upset her father, but if he insisted she end things with Keith, she knew their relationship would become estranged. Nothing could make her give up Keith.

  “Dad, I love him.”

  Sorrow gleamed in her father’s dark eyes. “I know, sweetie. You always have, and he’s always loved you, even if he didn’t know what to do with those feelings. I knew this day would come eventually. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s not whole inside. There’s going to come a point when he can’t give you the love you deserve.”

  “Stop it.” She blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry again. It was a weak and pointless act. “You don’t know Keith as well as you think you do. I believe in him, and that’s enough for me. I’m not breaking up with him.”

  Mario’s stern exterior melted. “Aww hell. Trina, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not telling you to break up with him. As long as he makes you happy, your mother and I will be supportive. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into.”

  At least he hadn’t brought up Keith’s kinky side. Her parents had never shied away from
frank discussions, but she really didn’t want to talk about that with her father.

  “I do, Daddy. You’re going to have to trust me. I’m learning how to handle Keith, and he’s learning how to be in a real relationship.”

  Mario chuckled. “Just like your mother.”

  Another wave of nausea struck. She closed her eyes against it.

  Her father got to his feet. “Do you need a barf bucket?”

  “No.” That answer was going to be true no matter what. She had a strict policy about not tossing her cookies. Especially not in front of witnesses. “I’m okay, but I really, really need the things on that list. Keith doesn’t keep extra tampons around the house.”

  That got him moving. He could talk about flu symptoms all day long, but mention tampons and he was out the door. It was a bit manipulative of her, but he left her with no other options.

  Completely aware of her tactics, he scowled. “Ten minutes, Trina. I’ll be back in ten minutes. You lock the door behind me, and don’t let anyone in until I get back.”

  * * * *

  Keith studied the documents through the clear plastic of the evidence bag. Inwardly he fumed. His outward demeanor betrayed nothing, but he knew Dustin would read him correctly anyway.

  The first was a love letter, found under the wiper blade of Katrina’s parked car. Dustin had come by one evening the week before and found it on her windshield. The cameras he and Malcolm had set up covered her parking space. That particular day, her neighbors had extra guests who had parked in Katrina’s spot, forcing her to park outside the range of the cameras. Keith had been with her, so he hadn’t seen the need to have the car moved.

  The tone of the second letter was vastly different. In it, the stalker sounded angry. Dustin had found it on her bed two days prior, when someone had broken into her condo and trashed it. The stalker had found out about her relationship with Keith, and he wasn’t happy about it.

  The third, delivered to her desk with the interdepartmental mail, simply read Die, whore. “Before you go off the deep end, I had a very good reason for keeping this information confidential.”

  Keith was hard-pressed to think that anything could justify this omission. “He’s been leaving letters for her, and you thought it was a good idea to keep it from me?”

  Dustin leaned casually against the side of his desk. The small office had a huge window, and right now Keith was considering that Dustin might well die by defenestration before the hour was over. Dustin pursed his lips. “You would have overreacted.”

  “Overreacted? Overreacted?” Keith wanted to seize Dustin and shake him, but they were evenly matched, and that was no way to treat a fellow agent.

  Dustin’s eyes glittered like frosted diamonds. “We had nothing. No definitive prints. No DNA. The paper and envelope are generic, as is the pen he used. And there was nothing on video anywhere. With the activity almost at a standstill, I figured there was a leak, that somehow her stalker had found out the precautions we’ve taken. Keeping key evidence from you meant keeping it from him.”

  That was a tough pill to swallow, but it made sense, so Keith forced himself to assimilate the new information. “What do you have now?”

  Dustin tapped the shortest note. “On the day this one was delivered, we have witnesses putting Buttermore in the payroll department.”

  “That’s it?” Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. Aaron could have been collecting his last check or changing his deduction elections.

  “They saw him wearing gloves, and they can put him near the mail cart as it came through the room. Plus we now have a partial. Using interdepartmental mail was a mistake on his part. There were too many factors. He couldn’t control for them all.”

  The urge to punch Dustin receded. “A fingerprint. You should have led with that.”

  “I should have results by tomorrow. I don’t want you to say anything to Trina until we know for sure. Just make sure she’s not alone for a second.”

  Keith nodded. He could do that.

  * * * *

  The next morning, Katrina awoke completely refreshed. She’d begun feeling better the night before. Her mother had brought chicken noodle soup over for dinner. They’d all eaten together in Keith’s kitchen.

  Donna had taken news of Katrina’s relationship with Keith in stride. She’d treated him the same way she always had, only she made herself a little more at home in his house. Several of her comments had been critical of his decor, but they’d been aimed at Katrina.

  Keith had merely smirked when Katrina protested that the way his house was decorated was none of her business, but he’d also taken pity on her and changed the subject. All in all, it had been a pleasant dinner with her boyfriend and her parents. She spent her lunch break at her desk, catching up on work she’d missed the day before. Though she’d called and texted Aaron several times in the past two days, he hadn’t returned her calls.

  While part of her knew he was angry about losing his job, a larger part of her questioned why he had reacted so vehemently to her. His behavior didn’t make sense, and she wanted an explanation. When her cell rang and she saw his name on the screen, she dropped what she was doing and picked it up immediately.

  “Hey, you. How are you holding up?” Pangs hit her hard in the stomach. She knew his suspension wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t help feeling bad for him.

  Aaron released a stream of air on the other end, making the connection sound staticky. “Better. Are you alone? Can you talk for a minute?”

  “I’m at my desk. People are around, but nobody is listening.” The office was never deserted until the workday was over. Many people worked through lunch.

  “Listen carefully, and don’t say my name.”

  Katrina frowned, but she figured Aaron wanted to confide in her, so she was determined to be a good friend. “Okay.”

  “A little while ago, I found out that somebody has been setting me up, signing my name to evidence logs, and then that evidence would go missing. Those… Shit. This line isn’t secure. Can you meet me? I think they’re going after you next.”

  “I can come now.”

  Katrina knew somebody had been doing the same thing to her. Though none of them had said anything, she knew Jordan, and probably others, suspected Aaron. To her dying day, she couldn’t believe he was capable of such a betrayal. It looked like they were both being targeted. She’d hate to think that if she ended up in Aaron’s shoes—and there was no telling where this was headed—she might find herself in need of a friend.

  If nothing else, she wanted to hear his side of the story. She owed it to him to hear him out.

  Besides, she knew how to hedge her bets. Even though she could handle herself and she didn’t fear Aaron, Keith or Dustin would have tried to stop her. She fired up her computer and accessed the phone logs. Starr’s number had to be in there, and Katrina needed to have a conversation with that woman.

  * * * *

  People in dark blue jackets with the bright yellow FBI logo swarmed the building. Dustin was closeted in a room, watching footage from the parking garage. Katrina’s car was missing. She’d assured Dustin that she had no plans to leave the building. She’d developed a habit of texting Dustin to let him know her whereabouts at all times. It made it easier to keep tabs on her.

  Keith tried her cell one more time. As it had the last fifteen times, it went right to voice mail. In the past hour, he’d called every single one of her friends. Darcy and Layla had joined Donna and Mario at his house. They were stationed there in case Kat showed up.

  Nobody had seen or heard from her in four hours.

  Dustin entered the large, open office area, stopping to speak with Chief Alder. Keith crossed the room, his long strides eating the distance.

  “What did you find?”

  Dustin shook his head. “She entered the parking garage alone, got in her car, and left. I found footage of her getting on I-75 heading south. That’s all.”

  Rage clouded his vision red. Ke
ith saw nothing but that and the blazing blue of Dustin’s irises. He grabbed his friend by the shirt with the intention of shoving him against the wall behind him, but Dustin’s reflexes were every bit as fast. He countered Keith’s move. Arms threaded underneath his, and he felt Malcolm pulling him backward.

  “Easy, buddy. Losing it on Dustin won’t bring her back. Save it for the motherfucker who took her.”

  Chief Alder straightened the jacket of her power suit. She held her head high and ignored Keith’s display of emotion. “Gentlemen, I just got word that her cell records have arrived. Your efforts might be better served looking at those.”

  * * * *

  Katrina opened her eyes, but she couldn’t see much. Faint light filtered through a grating in the wall. She guessed it was a vent of some kind. Her head felt worse than it did when her nephews “played” the piano at her parents’ house for two hours straight.

  She tried to move, but her arms and legs were stuck. The floor beneath her cheek was cold and hard. It smelled like grease and dirt. Panic stole her focus for a minute as she struggled against her bonds. Using the techniques Keith had taught her, she breathed until she had herself back under control.

  The last thing she remembered was Aaron’s smile. He’d been dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt that brought out the mossy green of his eyes. It had thrown her off to see him dressed so casually. Even when they got together outside of work, he always wore khakis and a button-down shirt.

  The tenseness she’d heard in his voice during their hurried phone conversation didn’t seem to be present in his relaxed stance. He’d held out his hand, as if he wanted to give her a hug. His smile had been tinged with regret and sadness.

  Three steps from him, the world had gone black. Judging from the pain in her head, someone had hit her hard enough to knock her out. She probably had a concussion. This confirmed her worst suspicion and made her realize that Keith or Dustin would have been right to halt her plan. In retrospect, it hadn’t been a good one.

  It made sense, now that she was forced to stop rationalizing Aaron’s intentions. In various circumstances, he’d enjoyed access to her things. It would be a small matter to copy her keys during lunch when she’d excused herself to use the restroom.

 

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