The rest of the evening I spent watching TV in an attempt to get my mind off the events scheduled for the next day. I then started in on mundane tasks, like rinsing out my running clothes, since I had managed a workout before Chris came by. I also checked e-mail.
Marla, the department secretary, had e-mailed me.
Nothing going on, no worries. She hoped my trip was going well and that I was discovering lots of interesting things. You have no idea, I thought as I e-mailed her back to say thanks for checking in. I logged into Megan’s account. Just spam again. I cleared it out and then jetted around the Web, trying to get hits on Cody or Roy/Raymond. No. No surprise, really. They probably surfed under pseudonyms. Stuff like “Odin’s guy” or “Aryan battle axe.” Sage would probably say that Cody’s Web name was “Aryan Assmuncher.”
Ten-thirty. I shut the computer down and went into the bedroom where I put on a pair of boxers and a tee. I then headed into the bathroom and completed my nightly pre-bed rituals then shut the TV off as well as the lights. Maybe I’d do some reading. It’d been a while. I got comfortable in bed and started a Tony Hillerman novel I’d brought. Three chapters in I was sound asleep.
I woke up in the dark, momentarily confused. I was on my back with Sage curled around me, her head resting on my chest between my left shoulder and my neck, her left arm stretched across my waist.
Her breathing was slow and deep. She still smelled of lavender and cloves. I hadn’t heard her come in, but I vaguely remembered her kissing my cheek and taking the book out of my hands. I carefully shifted my position so that I could pull her closer with my left arm. She mumbled something and snuggled closer.
The way her body felt against mine intoxicated me, like the night before. Christ, we haven’t even kissed yet. But here I was, wanting more, missing her when she wasn’t around, fascinated by her spirit and the fire that drove her. And I had just met her, though I felt more comfortable with her in that short time than I had with Melissa after we had started seeing each other. I knew it wasn’t really fair to compare the two situations. After all, Sage and Melissa were two entirely different women and I wasn’t who I had been seven years ago, either. I had no idea where this thing with Sage would go. All I knew, lying there in the dark with her arm around me and her head on my shoulder, was that I didn’t care and I wanted in on the ride. I carefully moved and kissed the top of her head, hoping she’d feel it in her sleep.
She stirred. “Hi,” she said sleepily.
“Hey,” I answered softly.
“You feel amazing.” She tightened her grip around my waist.
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” I brushed my lips against her forehead. “Thanks for stopping by.”
She giggled and I felt her hand move from my waist to my face, where her fingers stroked my right cheek. My heartbeat sped up. She moved slightly and I felt her breath and lips on my neck. Oh, no. Not the neck. Please. I can’t be held responsible for my actions if she keeps this up. My bones started to melt. Her kisses were delicate, fluttering like butterflies along the line of my jaw to my neck and then my clavicle. I would have exploded except anything that could have blown had melted.
“Oh, God,” I moaned.
I heard a smile in her response. “Hmm. I like how that sounded.” She nuzzled my left earlobe and I might have had an out-of-body experience. Every muscle, every nerve ending, even my hair was aflame.
“There is nothing I would rather do than make love to you right now,” she whispered. Her left leg wrapped around my left leg and I wanted to tear her tee and shorts off with my teeth. “But you have a lot of work to do tomorrow and you need to have your head in the right place. Not only for Megan, but for me.”
I groaned. She was right. And I had already told myself that I wouldn’t give Sage my undivided attention until the situation with Megan was resolved—whatever that might mean. “Why? Why, Sage? Why do you torture me so?” I sighed plaintively.
She laughed. “You think this is easy for me? Two years? And here I am, finally, in bed with you?”
“Point taken.”
“I don’t want anything hanging over us. Nothing to interrupt us. Does that make sense?” She stroked my face again and she propped herself up on her right elbow. I could just make out her features in the dark.
“Yes.” I covered her hand with mine, leaned into her palm. “Being with you is worth whatever wait there is.” I didn’t know where those words came from, but they felt and sounded so right. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.
“You’re every dream I’ve had come true,” she said softly. “Now get some sleep. Before I change my mind.”
I laughed and wrapped myself around her, delighting in the heat of her skin, the smell of her hair, the energy she exuded. I fell asleep with the sound of her breathing in my ear and her fingers buried in my hair.
I WAS UP first for a change, so I made coffee, letting Sage sleep a bit longer. Besides, I got to watch her as she did so. I poured her a cup, and doctored it the way she liked it before carrying it into the bedroom, where I sat on the edge of the bed closest to her. She was on her stomach, head turned toward me.
I kissed her right cheek and she opened her eyes.
“Good morning,” I said, running my fingers through her hair with my free hand.
She smiled. “Yes, it is.” She sat up and I handed her the cup of coffee. She sipped it. “Mmm. Perfect.”
“So what time are you going up to Santa Fe?”
She looked at me, surprised.
“I’d go if I could,” I continued. “I would love to be at one of your openings.”
She looked at me shyly. “You Googled me.”
“I did. Sage, your work is amazing. I wish I could go tonight. All I can tell you is that I’ll call you when things settle.”
“That means so much to me. And I wish I could be there for you.”
“Chris wouldn’t let you. She’s barely letting me.”
She laughed. “True. I’ll probably leave here around three. The opening’s at seven. Lots of chi-chi people, I’m sure, but some of my benefactors will be there and I have to go make nice.”
“Absolutely.” I tousled her hair. “You want a bagel? Green chile from the Co-op.”
“I’d love one.”
“Toasted?”
“No. Just slightly warmed.” She looked at me, coy.I felt goofy. “Don’t worry about making the bed.
I’ll take care of it.” I lingered at the doorway. “It was really, really nice having you here.” I think I’d like to make it a habit. How I was going to do that I didn’t know. But she moved me. In deep, mysterious, delightful ways. I retreated to the kitchen and worked on bagels. We ate at the table, laughing and talking.
Sage glanced at the clock on the microwave and sighed heavily. “I have to go. I have to get stuff ready.”
“I know.”
She stood and took her plate to the sink.
“Take some coffee for the road.”
She poured another cup and I followed her to the door. Another beautiful New Mexico morning.
Probably another rainstorm later on, but right now, it was a perfect day. She slipped into her Birks, which she had left at the door and turned to look at me. She reached out to me, pulled my head toward hers. She kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear. “Please be careful. Come back to me.”
I kissed her forehead. “Count on it. Now go knock some benefactor’s socks off.” I watched her as she returned to the big house and went inside.
NOTHING LIKE WAITING for the shit to hit the fan. There’s an art to waiting and I’m sorry to say that I have no talent for it. I kept both cell phones on my person at all times and I checked them obsessively to make sure they were turned on, that nothing was wrong, that the ringers were working. I refrained from calling anyone for fear I’d miss a call. I was restless but I didn’t work out because I might miss a call. So I paced. And then I paced right out the door and around the block. Then I paced up to
Central and back again. In the heat, as the monsoons gathered to the west again.
Like clockwork, the storms swept the city at two. I had no idea how I hadn’t gone insane during that time. I was sitting on the porch of the big house again, glowering into the sheets of rain when, at long last, my disposable phone rang. I checked the number.
Megan, calling from the pay phone. With a mixture of relief and trepidation, I answered.
“Hey. Is the meeting still on tonight?”
“Yes. Eight o’ clock. He’s started making calls.
There are already people coming by. Most should get there around seven.”
“Okay, here’s what I need you to do. As close to seven forty-five as you can, leave. Offer to make a cigarette run and let Cody know you want to get something to drink. Offer to buy whatever for anybody who wants anything. But get out of there as close to then as you can and get to the Allsup’s. You’ll see a brown Chevy Trailblazer. A guy named Mark will be with the vehicle. He’s big, like a football player. Dark hair. He knows what you look like so just go up to him and tell him who you are. He’ll get you out of there.”
Hesitation. “How will I know for sure?”
“I’ll be there. I’ll be in the vehicle but Mark doesn’t want me to be seen and possibly recognized.
Please trust me on this. I’ll probably be on the back seat.”
“I’m scared.”
“That’s okay. Just get away from the house and go to the Allsup’s. Everything will be fine. Trust me, okay?”
“Okay.” She did sound really scared.
“Now go on doing what you do and just let them think you’re going about your business. You can do this, Megan. I know you can. You’re a tough cookie.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay. Brown Chevy Trailblazer. Big guy, Mark. Okay. I have to go.
Thanks, K.C. I’ll—I’ll see you later.”
She hung up. I immediately called Mark. He answered and I told him what Megan had said.
“Okay. Why don’t you swing by at four and we’ll get things set up and move out.”
“Yessir. See you in a few.” I hung up and stared out into the rain. By three it had lessened to a slow drizzle. I wondered what you were supposed to wear on a police raid. I went back to Megan’s and changed into jeans and a dark blue tee. I also put my hikers on, thinking that sandals might not be a good idea.
I called Melissa. She didn’t answer so I left a message telling her Megan had called me and it looked like she’d be coming home soon, I was heading out to APD, and I’d let her know what was going on as soon as I had another chance. Then I called Sage.
“Hey!” she answered. “Did she call?”
“Yeah. It’s a go. I’m getting ready to go to APD
right now.”
Pause. “Please be careful.”
“I will. You be careful going to Santa Fe. And watch out for those benefactors. Some of ’em are out for blood.”
She giggled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“I don’t know what time we’ll be done at the station. And I have no idea what state of mind Megan will be in or what she’ll want to do.”
“I just need to know that you’re okay.”
“I’ll call you at least once.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you later,” she said, relieved.
“Good luck with the show.”
“I think you need more of that than me. Be safe.
Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up and stood staring out the door for a while. The rain had stopped and the world was in the process of drying. I made sure I had my wallet and some cash and locked up. I pulled away from the curb at three forty-five.
Chapter Nineteen
MARK DROVE CASUALLY around the Edgewood neighborhood, canvassing it. He passed 457 Partridge once but didn’t go by again. He cruised the street that Allsup’s fronted and then parked at a Kroger store about a mile away and checked in with various units.
I was lying across the back seat on my stomach, feeling like I was wrapped in armor. Chris and Mark had strapped me into a Kevlar vest at the police station and I now had newfound respect for law enforcement. Not only were these things heavy, but they were restrictive. You definitely had to be agile and strong to move effectively in them.
When Mark was out of earshot, Chris teased me about leaving me face-up on Sage’s front porch with the vest on, stranded like a turtle on its back. I retorted that maybe that wasn’t a bad idea and she just grinned and punched me in the chest to test it.
She and Mark were both wearing vests as well. Mark’s was under his button-down denim shirt. Chris’s was over her black tee.
Cody texted me at five-ten PM but he provided a completely different address. Mark decided that Cody didn’t trust me, especially after what had happened on Tuesday. So he had a couple of cops go check it out. Sure enough, the address was an abandoned house, boarded up. “Probably wanted to jump you in,” Mark said, referring to the gang practice of beating the shit out of new initiates for thirty seconds.
It wouldn’t surprise me. Different white supremacist groups had different initiation practices for hardcore members. Given Cody’s reluctance to smack Sage around, I doubted he himself would try to jump me in, but Ray probably had no compunctions about that.
And neither did Skinhead Girl or Ray-Bans. I was extremely glad that Megan had called earlier and confirmed that the meeting was at the Partridge address.
“How you doin’ back there?” Mark broke my train of thought.
“Never better,” I answered. “But based on this vest alone, I don’t think police work is in my future.”
He chuckled and continued to monitor the police band and then check in via walkie-talkie to local units who were getting into position. I lifted up a tad to check my watch. Seven-fifteen. I felt sort of queasy. I had both my cell phones in easy reach and I awkwardly checked them again to make sure everything was operational.
Edgewood local police were working in conjunction with the Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office.
Technically, this wasn’t APD’s jurisdiction but Mark’s expertise with the gang unit and the fact that he had been conferring with Edgewood law enforcement about 457 Partridge for a few weeks, as well as Chris’s knowledge of the case, brought them in. The New Mexico branch of the FBI even had a couple of boots on the ground, given their interest in domestic terrorism.
I hadn’t actually spoken to a rep yet, but Chris said that they’d want to talk to me soon enough about my work and how I had managed to track the Desert Rats. Gus Clayton was the guy who’d contact me.
Given that Megan had just recently told me that the Rats might be stockpiling and planning a possible bombing, the FBI came a little late to the party, but I was glad they were here and that everybody seemed to be cooperating. Too many times in the past, it seemed that in situations like this, law enforcement agencies didn’t coordinate effectively or stepped on each other’s toes and it got ugly. I hoped that didn’t happen here.
I listened to Mark’s cop lingo as he answered radio calls and I heard Chris’s voice, cool and confident. I rarely got to see her in action and it gave me a whole new appreciation for the work that she did. “All right, we’re gonna move in,” Mark said. He sounded completely relaxed, like he had just said
“Well, I’m gonna grab a burger.” I, on the other hand, felt like I needed to puke my guts out. I shut my eyes, forcing myself to breathe as deeply as I could with the vest on. I felt the Chevy pull onto the street. Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Mark slowed down a few minutes later and turned left into what I assumed was the Allsup’s parking lot.
One of the good things about this particular store was that it seemed to function as a hang-out for lots of different people. Consequently, Mark didn’t draw any attention as he sat in his vehicle ostensibly looking at an atlas. “How are you doing?” he asked without turning around.
“Well, I haven’t hurled yet, so I guess that’s a good sign.”
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He grinned. “I don’t care what Gutierrez says, Fontero. You’re all right.”
I smiled against the fabric of the back seat. I was compulsively checking my watch now. Seven forty-five. Night would fall soon. Shit shit shit. Come on, Megan. Seven-fifty. Damn damn damn. Where are you, Megan? A male voice I didn’t know called Mark’s handle on the radio. I turned my head and watched him reach for the handset. “Two-five-four. Go ahead.”
“We are in position. It’s a full house. Target is on her way, over.”
“Roger that. Two-five-four out.” He slid the handset back into its holder.
“Show time. Stay down until she’s here.”
“Yessir,” I acknowledged. She’s on her way.
Megan’s on her way. Anxiety wrapped around my esophagus like vines. Mark got out of the SUV and left the driver’s side door open. If I twisted my neck slightly, I could see him through the corner of the windshield, standing on the driver’s side leaning on the hood. I heard him say “Hi” to somebody and I heard Megan’s voice.
“K.C.?”
I sat up and opened the door behind the driver’s seat. “Hey!” I got out and pulled her into a hug. She started crying.
“I’m so sorry,” she kept saying as she clung to me.
She felt too thin.
“Get her in,” Mark said firmly but gently.
“Okay,” I took her hand. “Lie down on the back seat.” I helped her in then climbed in with her. Rather than stay on the seat, she hunkered on the floor behind the front passenger seat. “Hang in there.” I grabbed her hand again and Mark shut the door behind me. He had parked in the spot farthest to the left of the Allsup’s entrance so no one could pull up on the driver’s side. He remained outside, cell phone in his hand. To casual observers, it looked like he was waiting on a call. I was sitting up in the back seat.
She’s here. Megan’s here. She was staring at me. She looked more like Melissa than the last time I had seen her, though the thinness of her face made her look even older than her sister. An expression reminiscent of her second round with rehab hovered in her eyes, that boundary between hope and hopelessness.
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