by Dale Mayer
“So it’s time to move,” Laszlo said. “If you’re really stuck here, and you’ve got family and friends here, then stay. But if nothing’s holding you here, move and get a fresh start.”
“And where do you suggest I move?”
“It’s a huge world out there. I can’t say any place in particular is better or worse than another.”
Geir nodded. “We had that same problem after our accident. We were placed all over the country. But, the thing is, we had been such close friends while we were in the navy that, during our recoveries, keeping track of each other as we progressed, it seemed natural we’d want to be together. Nobody else knew the real challenges we faced. Nobody really understood what it was we had to deal with emotionally and physically, except for each other. So we’ve slowly been relocating to Santa Fe, New Mexico.”
“All seven of you?”
Laszlo nodded. “Four of us are there now, with me trying to find a permanent place. And Geir here has a place but hasn’t been living there.”
“I probably will now,” Geir said. “I just need to take care of a few things first.”
“While New Mexico has never been on my list of places to move to,” she looked at them, “why did you choose there?”
“Kat,” they said together.
Laszlo chuckled at the confusion on her face. “A prosthetic designer and engineer who lives and works there. We keep making trips to see her anyway, so we decided, since Badger, one of our unit, was already there, that would be the easiest to relocate to. Besides, the weather is great. It’s a smaller laid-back community, and it suits us.”
She nodded. “Nothing really replaces a sense of family or community. I haven’t had that in a long time. Maybe since Mouse left,” she said sadly. “It was never quite the same afterward.”
“Time to build a new one then,” Geir said. “That’s not easy, which is why we’ve all decided New Mexico is for us. At least if one has to have surgery or is setting up a business or is moving into a new place, the others can help support us.”
“It sounds wonderful.” She smiled at them. “You don’t realize how alone you are until you see other people who have created a solution for their own lonely life.”
“When we were full-active duty,” Laszlo said, “we had a lot of friends. The navy is a massive business and family community all at once. When you belong, you really belong. But, when you step back and out of it, it’s incredibly difficult to replace that same sensation of belonging to something important.”
“And I don’t think I’ve ever had that,” she said. “I thought that’s what I’d have by going into counseling. But, working for the city, well, let’s just say the conditions are ugly. I used to love my job, but now we’re all overworked, underpaid, underappreciated, and there’s not a real connection with any of the files that come across my desk. And I really wish there was.”
“What about going into a different kind of counseling? Like addiction counseling or maybe even family counseling?” Geir asked.
“I have to counsel what I know,” she said with a smile. “But not sure I want to deal with that. It hits too close to home.”
“If you went into the private sector, you would find a very different response to your work.”
She nodded. “And I’ve thought about it. Particularly since I had to make a decision to do something about my supervisor. If this gets any nastier, I will not be welcome anywhere in the industry here.”
“Sexual harassment is not allowed, no matter what industry,” Geir said firmly.
She snorted. “I get that you guys are all out there with honor, defending the country and whatnot, but don’t forget this is still the US. And sexual harassment goes on everywhere.”
“But you’ve taken the first step to setting your boundaries of what’s allowed and what’s not allowed. And that will help other people stand up for their rights.”
She popped another french fry in her mouth, her gaze again going from one to the other. “You two are living in a world I don’t recognize. When you’re raised with a drugged-up mother with her multiple boyfriends, and you fight for your own personal space and safety on a daily basis, and your friends are all in a similar boat, your world is something we don’t even recognize.”
“But you did recognize that when you went to your uncle’s,” Laszlo reminded her. “And you are trying to help other people recognize it through the work you do.”
She frowned at him. “How do you know that?” she challenged.
He smiled, loving her spunk. “Because you want to do the right thing. Even though you’re not sure sometimes what that is or how to make it happen, you’re the kind of person who wants justice.” The suspicion in her gaze made his grin widen. “Look at what you did. Somebody sexually harassed you, and, instead of him getting punished through the right channels, he got off scot-free. You’re the one who got punished. And that doesn’t sit right with you. So, what did you do? You decided to take it a step further and make sure justice happened. Whether you like it or not, you’re one of the good guys. And whether you believe in yourself or you don’t, one of these days you’ll wake up and realize that, in order to do work that makes you feel good about yourself and about your own life, you’ll have to help others find justice for themselves.”
Her jaw dropped as she stared at him.
But he could see awareness slamming into her. “And, no, I’m not a shrink. But I’ve lived a long time with an amazing amount of people who have a lot of issues. And there’s one thing about being two years in recovery. It gives you an awful lot of time to think.”
Chapter 6
Minx was ready to pay her bill and leave. Not that she really wanted to go home to her temporary quarters. She had no intention of staying here. Twenty days into her punishment, she was no more content to be back in her old stomping grounds than she was on her first day. Just as she got up, her phone rang. She glanced at the number, frowned but hit Talk. “Hello?”
No answer.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
Nothing. She shrugged, ended the call and tucked it into her pocket.
“Wrong number?” Laszlo asked.
“Who knows? I’ve been getting a lot of them lately.”
“Any idea why?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“They didn’t start after you went to the police, did they?”
She was half standing, ready to leave, but she clunked back down into her seat as his words hit home. She frowned as she stared at him. “I’m not sure.”
“When did you go to the cops?”
“A few days ago. I gave them all the details. They would write up the statement, and I’m supposed to go in and sign it. And that’ll open the file officially, and they’ll do whatever it is the police do.”
“Do you think anybody contacted the guy you were having investigated to let him know what you were doing?”
“I imagine they would have to,” she said in a reasonable tone. “You can’t think these hang-up calls have anything to do with that?” Then she gave him a narrow gaze. “I’m sure it’s just a wrong number.”
“Sure. That’s probably all it is,” Laszlo said, but his words didn’t match his tone. “But mention it to the cops.”
She pulled her phone back out and flicked through her messages. “You guys are trying to scare me.”
“No, not at all,” Laszlo said. “Maybe alert you to a hidden danger you hadn’t considered.”
“Such as?” she asked in a challenging voice. “I certainly didn’t post it on social media or anything.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not my way. I figured there would be enough media storm over it all soon enough.”
“Exactly. So how do you know somebody from the police station didn’t see and/or hear what you were talking about and might have already jumped to that conclusion?”
“It’s just as likely they contacted the office where I worked and said I’d been in. The case has
already been opened, so maybe they jump-started it already.” She shrugged. “It’s to be expected.”
“Yes, but sometimes things can get ugly, even if we’re in the right and other people are in the wrong.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “I had a hard time going to the police in the first place. Don’t start making me wish I hadn’t.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I want you to take precautions. And phone calls like this could be just the beginning.”
She felt a shiver slide down her back. “Well, that’s definitely not confidence-inspiring,” she snapped. “And, if this escalates, I’ll end up having to quit my job and move anyway.”
He nodded. “Do you live alone?”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Yes. I’ve been here less than a month. I rented a furnished basement suite. The owners are away on vacation right now, so the upstairs is empty.”
The two men exchanged a glance.
She shook her head. “No, no more scare tactics.”
Laszlo pulled a notepad from his pocket, ripped off one sheet from it and wrote down his phone number. “If you need us, we’re here overnight. Probably leaving in the morning.”
She snorted. “There better not be anything happening overnight.” But she couldn’t stop herself from grabbing his note. She studied the phone number, took his pen and wrote his name down. “If I don’t know whose number it is, I’ll never dial it.”
He didn’t say anything but watched as she punched the number into her phone.
“So what kind of stuff am I supposed to watch out for?”
“Being followed, more phone hang ups. Intruders. Stalkers. Males who are anything but friendly and light. Same thing with email. It’s not hard to hack websites anymore. If somebody wanted to send an email to you at your work address, that would be easy enough to do as well.”
“You guys are just a bundle of love, aren’t you?” She hadn’t meant her words to come out quite so caustic as they did, but, at the same time, she meant them. “I was raised in the streets. It takes a lot to pull one over on me, but I will admit I haven’t been living on that rough edge, worrying about my survival, in quite a while.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
Geir spoke up. “Any other weird phone calls? Anybody watching you a little too intently? The sense that somebody was following you? Any nasty gifts? People posting hate posts on your social media pages?”
She stared at them. “You really think that’ll happen?”
“We’re afraid it could.”
She tapped her phone, checking her emails. “This came in this morning. I wasn’t even worried about it. I just figured it was spam.” She clicked on it, twisted her phone sideways to see it larger and held it out for them.
“Is this your personal email?” Laszlo looked at the address. “Yes, it is. That’s the one I sent the photo to.” He read it out loud, “Stop now, bitch. Well, that’s to the point.”
“Is it though?” she asked. “I thought it was just spam.”
“Maybe. But if it’s because of this sexual harassment report, it could get much worse.”
Just then her phone buzzed. He handed it back to her, she checked to see what had come in. It was another email. She brought it up and gasped.
Laszlo leaned closer. The words were the same: Stop now, bitch. But below it was a cartoon image of a cat that had been beheaded. “This is exactly what I mean.” He gently took the phone from her hand and held it out so Geir could see.
Geir nodded. “Yeah, that’s how the trouble starts.”
Laszlo glanced at her. “Do you mind if I forward this to my email?”
She looked at him in surprise and then shrugged. “Go for it. Although I don’t know why you’d care.”
“Because we might be able to track the email address.”
“We?” she asked quietly.
He motioned toward Geir. “We might be able to track it.”
“What good will it do?”
“It could trace down the person sending these. You’ve had two today?”
She nodded. “One this morning and one just now.”
“Anything else?”
Bewildered, she shrugged and looked around. “No, not really. I haven’t been into the office all day. Partly because I’ve been avoiding the office, staying away from all the accusing looks, because, of course, everybody knows what I did.”
“What? That you stood up to being harassed? And at a level that’s not acceptable anywhere?”
She nodded. “The trouble is, the guy has been around for a long time. He’s well-loved. He fought to get everybody raises. He fought to get everybody parental leave. As far as they’re all concerned, he’s a good guy.”
“Aah. So you’re the bad guy. He’s the good guy, and, for whatever reason, your nose is in a snit, and you’re just trying to make his life miserable?” Geir asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s about it. It’s stupid. But they love him, and now I’ve made his life miserable.”
“Don’t suppose any other women may have left because of him?”
“Quite possibly. Two women left over the last year, but I don’t know why. They didn’t really give an excuse. They just upped and handed in their notices. Their reasons could be anything.”
“What are their names?”
“Angela Davis and Melinda Barry. I did give the cop their names too.” She frowned as Geir wrote it down. “You’re not going to contact them, are you?”
“Ask the police if they did a follow-up.”
“They did get other jobs, and they said they were moving on, although they both said the same thing, so I don’t know if that was just an excuse.” She stood. “Don’t take it personally, but you two are now making me very nervous.”
“Good,” Laszlo said, his voice low but hard. “If it keeps you alive, then I don’t care how nervous it makes you. And feel free to run away. But, if you get into trouble, make sure you call us.”
“And you’re presuming, of course, the problem will come tonight. You do realize that, after you guys leave, that’s when the trouble will come?”
“We’ll be in New Mexico. Less than seven hundred miles away. Not exactly a superlong drive but not around the corner,” he admitted. “Let’s hope this guy will be content with sending you nasty emails.”
She pocketed her phone, shot them both a look, turned to face Agnes coming around to the cash register where she paid her bill, and then, without another word to anyone, walked out to her vehicle.
She got into her small Subaru, backed out of the parking lot and headed onto the main street.
Laszlo watched her disappear. “Wish we knew where she lived.”
“Yeah. You’re getting the same bad feeling I am.”
Laszlo hated to admit it, but he was. “The problem is, like she said, the trouble may not come tonight. It might not come for a day or two days or a week …”
“Or never,” Geir said. “Let’s stay positive. For all we know, this will die down.”
“And who would be the one to do something like this?”
“The guy who might be charged? Somebody he loves. Somebody who loves him? Or is he somebody who would hire someone?”
“Hard to say. A lot of people, if they like him, won’t want to see his life slurred like this, but he needs to stop.”
“Sexual harassment is never appropriate. If it’s not Minx, he could go after many other women. And that should not be allowed. And although he didn’t attack her or force her into anything, he made it fairly explicit how he felt about it. And don’t forget she had her job transferred, so she’s the one being punished, not him.”
“Who are y’all talking about now?” Agnes asked. She stood beside them. She was amazingly silent for her bulk as she glared at them.
Laszlo looked up at her. “You have good hearing.”
She nodded. “I do at that. And I always keep an ear to the ground for the people I care about.”
She motioned in the direction Minx had left. “And that girl has had enough trouble in her life.”
“We’re not trying to cause more trouble,” Laszlo said. “She’s just got a packet full of it. She doesn’t realize how bad it could get.”
Agnes dropped her meaty fists onto the table and leaned forward. “Explain,” she barked.
Laszlo did, and, when he was done, she stared at him for a long moment and then gave a quick nod. “Then you best be keeping an eye on her, hadn’t you?”
“We leave in the morning,” Laszlo protested but without much heat because he couldn’t ignore that Minx might be in trouble. Spunky though she was, it might not be enough. “We also have work we need to do.”
“Well, what if you had some angle or something to tug on Mouse’s background? Would that keep you around for another day or two?” she asked rudely. “And, at the same time, you can hunt down whoever it is doing this to Minx.”
Geir stared at her. “And do you know more about Mouse’s background than you’re letting on?”
She slid him a look and said, “Maybe.”
Laszlo believed her. “Deal. We can stay for another day or two if something’s worth sticking around for.”
She shook her head. “Nope, you got to agree to help Minx.”
“It can’t be open-ended,” Laszlo pointed out. “We leave at some point.”
“At some point?” she pounced. “That hotel is mine too. And you boys are there tonight. You can stay tomorrow night for free too.”
Laszlo raised his eyebrows. “Quite the businesswoman, aren’t you?”
But shrewd eyes studied him. “I already checked that you were registered there and your names. I had friends run your backgrounds once I heard you were looking for Mouse.” Her voice deepened with each word spoken. “We don’t let none of our friends get hurt. So, is that a deal or no deal?”
Laszlo and Geir looked at each other. Geir shrugged. “We can stay another day and another night. After that, by noon of the next day, we’ll be on the road.”