by David Beers
“Put a tail on Christian? That’s what you’re suggesting?”
Luke nodded, his face solemn. “But not anyone else. You and me. I don’t want to get him in trouble, which is what will happen if we put someone else on him. We’ll take turns watching. I don’t think it will take long.”
Tommy shook his head and looked at his desk. “Alice … She’ll understand, I suppose.” He looked back up. “You’re sure about this?”
“I wouldn’t bring it to you if I wasn’t.”
“Goddamnit. Aren’t either of the two shrinks that he’s seeing helping him at all? He’s losing his mind. He really is.”
“When we catch him in the act, we give him an ultimatum: either he sincerely gets help and willingly steps aside for a few months, or we go to Waverly.”
Tommy sighed. “Okay. How do we do it? Each of us takes a night shift, and switch off every other night? What if he doesn’t show up to work again?”
“Yes, that’s how the nights should work. I’ll take the first shift. If he doesn’t show up to work, we’ll know from whoever is on him the previous night. We don’t come off our shift until we know he’s arrived here.”
“So we’ll basically do twenty-four hours on, eight off, indefinitely?”
“Trust me,” Luke said. “It won’t last long.”
Veronica lay on the couch with Christian. He wasn’t ready to come to her place yet, but he had let her come to his again—though, she did have to nearly beg.
Still, she was here and so was he, and that’s what mattered.
Veronica’s head lay in his lap while he sat on the couch. The television was on one of her ‘guilty pleasure’ shows: The Real Housewives of Atlanta. She knew Christian couldn’t stand it, but he put up with it anyway. She secretly thought he didn’t watch at all; he fell into his thoughts and was fine there. His mind doing things that she'd never be able to understand.
“Veronica?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“I need to ask you something.”
She sat up, pressing pause on the remote. The show stopped playing and she turned so that she faced him.
“We’re not back together are we?” he said, sounding almost like a child. Christian used to get like this sometimes, especially when discussing anything having to do with their relationship. He was like a kid in a dinosaur museum, asking questions about things he didn’t understand.
“No. We’re hanging out.”
“But you want to be with me?”
A simple question, but one with a very complex answer, and Veronica understood he couldn’t handle the complexity—not when it came to them. The man’s mind could do acrobatic feats with numbers and people, but when it came to his own relationship, he needed simplicity.
“I want you to be healthy, Christian. And when you are, I’d like to try again, yes.”
“I want to be healthy, too,” he said. “And I think I know how to be, or rather, how to get there.”
“How?”
“I don’t want to talk about that yet. I wanted to ask you something, though, about the future?”
“Shoot,” she said.
“If I had to leave for a while, a few years … Do you think you’d wait? If you knew when I returned, that I’d be with you. If … If the reason I left was so that I could be healthy.”
Veronica was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Years are a long time.”
He nodded and said nothing.
“Where would you go?”
“Let’s watch TV. I don’t want to talk about it yet; I just wanted to see what you’d say.”
Veronica kept looking at him, but he only stared at the television. “You sure?”
He nodded. Veronica lay back down, putting her head on his lap again. She hit play but found it hard to focus. She didn’t like the way Christian sounded, not in general, but specifically about that question. Why would he have to go away? Where would he go? A clinic? An asylum? There were too many questions and Christian wouldn’t answer any of them.
Luke passed the night in a car, silence reigning. He never needed much sleep, a few hours a night at most. He had gone days before without ever taking so much as a nap, functioning at peak performance. These next few nights would be simple.
The car sat on Christian’s street, and Luke was somewhat annoyed that he had to rent a vehicle for this stakeout. He couldn’t use his Tesla, as Christian would spot it easily enough if he looked outside. An FBI sedan wouldn’t work either; Christian would also have questions if he saw one of those.
So, Luke sat in a Toyota Corolla, watching the house. He was actually concerned that Christian might attempt killing Hinson too soon … or had been—until Veronica showed up. Christian wouldn’t leave the house tonight and that was good, but Luke needed four days. Christian had to hold off that long if Luke’s plan was to work.
Four days, Christian. That’s all I need of you, and then you’ll be free of me forever.
Chapter 17
Christian put his slippers on and stared down at them.
He’d spoken with Veronica the previous night, and it only confirmed the decision he had made. Maybe she wouldn’t wait for him, but she was right: he needed to be healthy. He had called his mother from work today and told her that he wanted to go back to the person he used to be. She cried into the phone and his heart broke at the sound, knowing what he’d done to her over the past year.
Christian left work on time today and went home. He cooked himself dinner for the first time in ages, although ‘cook’ was a strong term. He had four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—the most he’d eaten at once in awhile.
From there, he called his mother again and actually talked to her. He listened to what she did the past week, though was careful to avoid too much detail about himself. He didn’t want her worrying.
Christian needed to speak with someone else as well, and he’d waited for tonight to do it.
He pulled his phone out and loaded the Uber app. He put Luke’s house in as the destination.
At first, Tommy couldn’t believe that Christian would take an Uber to Ted Hinson’s home. Couldn’t believe it so much, in fact, that Tommy didn’t try to stop the kid. He simply pulled away from the curb and started following Christian’s ride.
This was the second night of the stakeout, and Tommy’s turn for duty.
When the two cars pulled onto the highway, he recognized they weren’t heading toward Hinson’s, which was a relief—though Tommy still didn’t know where they were going.
The coffee sitting in his cup holder was cold and nearly empty. He reached into his glove compartment, keeping one hand on the wheel, and pulled out a bottle of caffeine pills. He dry swallowed one, then tossed the bottle onto the passenger seat.
Christian had acted almost normal today. He was more quiet than usual, but other than that, the gloom that usually followed him around like a storm cloud seemed to have lifted. Tommy thought Luke’s assessment might be wrong. Maybe the kid was turning a corner and coming back to the land of the living.
Tommy grabbed his cell phone from the passenger seat.
“Call Luke Titan,” he said to the digital assistant programmed into it. Siri was its name, and the damned thing never understood a thing he said.
Without fail, she responded to his request this time, “I’m sorry. I don’t know a Luke Teetan.”
“Goddamnit, Siri.” He unlocked the phone and found Luke’s number, his eyes glancing back and forth from the screen to the wheel. He tapped ‘call’ and waited as the phone rang.
“Is he moving?” Luke answered, sounding as if sleep wasn’t calling on him nearly as hard as Tommy. He would never understand either of his partners, not their minds nor their strange patterns—including Luke’s sleep schedule.
“Yeah, he is. I think he’s coming to your house. Has he called you?”
“No, but he wouldn’t. He stopped calling before arriving a long time ago.”
“Well
, unless he has a side girl in your part of town, he’s on his way to you. I don’t see Christian having a bunch of women waiting on him to come over, though.”
“Okay,” he said. “You’re going to stay on my road, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll wait ‘till he leaves, then keep following.”
“Good.”
“Later,” Tommy said and hung up the phone. He let his car fall back another hundred feet—still following the Uber—and hoped the caffeine would kick in soon.
Luke understood what Christian was doing: tying up loose ends. Trying to mend relationships. Christian’s conversation with Veronica had been endearing, perhaps even noble.
Now, he was coming to Luke to do something similar.
Luke watched the Uber’s lights turn into the driveway. Christian stepped out of the car, handed the driver a tip through the open window, and padded in his slippers to Luke’s front door. At least he had worn some sort of shoes this time, usually he showed up barefoot.
The doorbell rang and Luke waited a few moments before standing up from his chair. On the second ring, he opened the door.
“Having a tough time sleeping?” Luke asked.
“Can I come in?”
“Rare that you ask. Sure.” He moved back and let Christian walk through the doorway. Christian paused once inside, another rarity, and turned to Luke as he shut the door.
“I don’t think I ever asked where you’d like to talk. I normally just head to the living room. You want to talk in there, or somewhere else?”
Luke smiled. “You’re behaving strangely.”
“I’m feeling a bit strange.”
“If it’s my choice, let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make some coffee.”
Luke led the way and Christian followed. Luke went to the counter and put a Keurig cup in the machine. “I assume you don’t want any?”
“Actually, I’ll take some.”
Without turning around, Luke said, “You are acting strange.”
He made the two cups in silence, turning and handing one to Christian when finished.
“What brings you over?”
“You remember what we talked about the other night?”
Luke nodded. “Faith. In God. In you.”
“Have you thought any more about Hinson? Looked into him at all?”
“No.”
A pause ensued.
“Don’t want to ask me the same question?” Christian said.
“There’s no need. I doubt you think of much else.”
Christian smiled. An awkward thing, probably because he rarely did it anymore. “I’ve actually been thinking of other things lately. I guess, the other night, you sort of gave me permission to do what I need. Just like you gave me permission to do what was needed with Speckle.”
“Is that what I did?”
“Yes, in a way. I hated you for it for a long time, though I don’t know if I ever admitted that to myself.”
Luke watched as Christian pulled his cigarettes out, paying no attention to himself. He went so far as to put one in his mouth before realizing what he was doing.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Do you mind if we go outside so I can smoke this?”
“Not at all,” Luke said.
The two walked through his kitchen to the backyard. It was even larger than the front, with a patio that Luke created with kings in mind. They each sat beneath the tent that held sway over the whole area. Overstuffed pillows filled each of the wicker couches, and a stone table sat between them.
Christian lit his cigarette, and Luke waited for him to continue talking.
“I hated you for making me do that. Or at least, I thought that’s what you did. Now, though, I think you gave me permission to be what was needed at the time. We wouldn’t have made it out alive, otherwise. None of us. Not even Veronica or my mother.” Christian met Luke’s eyes. His cigarette’s red glow was mirrored in them. “The other night, you did it again. Did you know you were? And don’t lie to me.”
“I don’t lie to you, Christian. I had some inclination that you needed to hear what I was saying.”
“Do you still believe it?”
Luke nodded.
“Let me hear you say it.”
“I still believe it.”
“So do I. I guess I came over here tonight to tell you that. I’m going forward with it and I hope you don’t try to stop me.” He looked down at his slippers. “I don’t think you will, though. You know I need this, if I’m ever going to have a chance at a real life again. I suppose you also know that I’ll be done at the FBI.”
Luke nodded.
“I’ll never be as good of a host as you,” Christian said as he looked at the cigarettes on his lap. “Would you like one?”
“Sure.”
“Not worried about cancer?” Christian said, smiling as he pulled out two more cigarettes. He handed one and his lighter across to Luke.
“I don’t worry, Christian.”
“I know. Where do you want me to put this?” he said, holding his finished cigarette.
“Here.” Luke reached to the table at the end of the couch and handed Christian an ashtray. He then lit his cigarette and passed back the lighter.
“You won’t tell Tommy?”
“No,” Luke said. “Not until the time is right.”
“Good,” Christian said, nodding. “I’m going to talk to him, too, but it’ll probably be after everything happens. Out of everyone involved, he’s the one who is still a Boy Scout. He won’t understand.”
“You’re sure Hinson is guilty? Absolutely?”
“I’m sure. Those women are still there, I think. If not, there’ll be evidence of murder.”
“Have you gone to your mansion?” Luke asked. “Has it shown you anything?”
“Not in a while. I don’t need to for this.”
Luke nodded and the two of them smoked in silence. Once finished, Luke walked his partner to the door and saw him off.
Two more days, Christian. Please give me those, he thought as he closed the door.
Chapter 18
Two days passed for Christian. They were the best two days he could remember having in a long, long time. His mind was at peace, and the day after he saw Luke, he actually went over to Veronica’s house and spent the night.
She tried to bring up what he had mentioned earlier in the week, but he told her he wasn’t ready to discuss it yet.
Christian didn’t know exactly what would happen at Hinson’s house, and that’s why he wouldn’t talk about the future. If he could subdue Hinson, then Christian would lose his badge, but wouldn’t see jail time. He knew Hinson’s outcome wouldn’t end in jail time, either, as the arrest wouldn’t be constitutionally legal—but Hinson wouldn’t be able to kidnap women ever again. He’d be on every watch list known to mankind for the rest of his life.
If Christian couldn’t arrest him … then he’d kill him. He held no doubt about his ability or desire to do so.
Yes, he’d kill Ted Hinson if need be. Perhaps even if it wasn’t needed; he hadn’t decided on that yet. And if Hinson died, Christian would face some jail time. Probably not a lot, given his service and evidence found at Hinson’s house—Christian might even get off with parole. The possibility of prison existed, though, and Christian would explain everything to Veronica when Hinson was finished.
One way or another.
Christian had waited until Thursday night to head to Hinson’s house. If Hinson planned on leaving for another weekend getaway, wanting another souvenir, he’d leave on Friday. Christian’s best chance of finding Hinson at home was tonight.
He didn’t put on slippers or the loafers he wore to work. He put on his tennis shoes, tying the laces tight. He wore a short sleeve shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He then placed his holster across his body, and over it all, a long jacket.
He’d checked out an FBI cruiser this afternoon and drove it home. Uber wouldn’t work tonight unfortunately—though Christian was saving some money.<
br />
He smiled at the thought.
His mind was a crazy place, whether sane or insane—he’d never be able to stop some of the weird things he came up with.
Fully dressed and ready to end all of this, he walked out into the night. He didn’t even bother locking his door as he left. Happiness, perhaps the purest he’d ever felt, abounded.
“Here we go,” Tommy said to himself. He was no longer tired, hadn’t been since he watched Christian pull out of the FBI parking lot with one of their vehicles. Tommy had immediately called Luke.
“Tonight’s the night.”
“How do you know?” Luke had asked.
“He checked out a car. I don’t think the kid’s driven himself anywhere since we were on that stakeout with Bradley Brown.”
“You’re right. You okay out there alone tonight? I finally need a few hours of sleep, I think.”
“Yeah. I’ll just follow him to the house and stop him before he goes in. He won’t draw his weapon on me and the kid can’t physically take me, if I have to bring him down.”
“Call me if you need. I’ll wake up.”
“I’ll call you when it’s over,” Tommy had answered.
If Luke said he needed sleep, then the man really needed it. Tommy didn’t think having Luke there would matter much, except maybe when it came to talking some sense into Christian. He listened to Luke in a way that he didn’t listen to others, but that was because of Luke’s brainpower. Tommy could handle the interception by himself.
He was wired now, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he followed Christian’s car. Tommy had programmed in Ted Hinson’s house to his GPS, and sure enough, Christian was following the same roads.
Tommy didn’t understand how things had gone so far down this path, to the point that he would have to prevent his partner from murdering someone without cause. Tommy didn’t feel guilty for not alerting the FBI; Christian was family, and if family decided to veer from the correct course, you brought them back. You didn’t ask other people to do it.