Swordfish

by Andrea Bramhall

  “I know what it’s like to feel like there’s a piece missing.”

  Bailey stared into Cassie’s eyes and she couldn’t pull away. Flecks of gold shot through the dark emerald green. She could see that Cassie’s lips were moving, but she couldn’t focus on the words. She felt as though she were listening from underwater and nothing made sense.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Cassie smiled gently. “I said, I’m sorry.”

  “What for?”

  “Your pain.”

  “It’s fine.” Bailey managed to blink and waved her hand. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Doesn’t stop it from hurting, and it doesn’t always dim the memories either.”

  “Do you mind if I ask some more questions?”

  “You can ask. Don’t be offended if I can’t answer.”

  “Fair enough.” Bailey flipped a page in her notebook. “What do you know about your daughter?”

  “Very little.” She sighed softly and clasped her hands on the table in front of her. “She’ll be twenty-nine years old in January. From what I understand, she’s been working for her father’s company since she finished her education. She’s been a researcher at Sterling BioTech. I haven’t found any publications of her work yet, so I don’t know what she’s been working on. As a child, she was quite brilliant.” Cassie smiled proudly. “And no, that isn’t just parental pride. She was very advanced for her age when I left, and while Karen was with her she was even further ahead of her peers. William had excellent tutelage in place for her. He did well by her in that regard.”

  “Was he a good father? Is that why you left her with him?”

  “He wasn’t a bad father.” She shrugged. “At least he wasn’t then, more an indifferent one. And I didn’t choose to leave her there. I had planned for her to come with me. It just didn’t work out that way.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Can you tell me why you faked your own death?”

  “William wanted to expand Sterling Enterprises in a way that I wasn’t comfortable with, and he needed me to do it. I refused. When I did, I was left with little choice but to die, for everyone’s own good.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t say any more than that.”

  Bailey scribbled a few more notes. “What else do you know about your daughter?”

  “I read an article that said she had testified against her father and he’s now in prison.”

  “Yes. Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.”

  “This might be totally unrelated, but a student of mine came to see me today, and asked for a recommendation letter for an internship.”

  Bailey frowned. “Okay, and what does that have to do with this?”

  “She wanted a letter for Sterling BioTech. They hadn’t put out applications for the summer internship till this weekend. Probably waiting to see what was going on after William’s incarceration, I guess.”

  “So you think something’s changed in the company?” The hairs on the back of Bailey’s neck stood on end again. Sean’s comments about the string of letters watching both the girl and the company made her question whether pursuing this was a good idea. But this woman, Cassie, was a good woman, and if her daughter was even a fraction like her then maybe her help was all aboveboard. Surely they deserved the benefit of the doubt. Right?

  “Seems a very likely explanation, wouldn’t you say?”

  “And what do you think that change would be?”

  “Someone’s taken over.”

  “You think your daughter has taken over the company?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe she’s sold it. But someone is at the helm again.”

  “Why do you think your daughter testified against her father?”

  “Because he’s a bastard. As for her reasons, I don’t know. I have a suspicion or two, but that’s all.”

  “Can you share those suspicions?”

  “The article mentioned terror charges and arms deals. I’d guess that he was brokering biological weapons.” She sighed.

  “That it?”

  “I told you it was just a suspicion.”

  Bailey scribbled another note. “Somehow I think your suspicions are based on way more than gut instinct and guesswork.”

  “So does this mean you’ll take my case?” Cassie asked.

  Bailey nodded as she looked at the pages of notes spread over the table. “Looks like it.” She pushed a pad and pen toward her. “Can you write your home details on there for me?” Cassie did and passed the pad back. “You’re less than a block from me.”

  Cassie chuckled. “Small world.”

  “Yup.”

  Cassie checked her watch. “I’m going to have to get moving soon. It’ll be seven before I get home and I still need to cook dinner.”

  “I can give you a lift if you like?” She pointed to the Explorer outside. “I really am just down the block from you. Seems silly for you to get the T when I’m passing.”

  Cassie glanced out at the dark sky and the wet sidewalk. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  “And what do I owe you as a retainer?” Cassie pulled her wallet out of her purse.

  “We can sort it out later.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’ve already done a considerable amount of work by the look of your pad. What’s your fee?”

  “You pay for the coffees and we can discuss it in the car.”

  “Bailey.”

  “I’ve got a pamphlet in there with everything written down.”

  Cassie sighed. “Fine.” She paid the bill and followed Bailey to the car, Jazz trotting quietly beside them. “How long have you been a private investigator?”

  “Coming up on five years.” They climbed into the car, and Cassie looked on curiously as Bailey wrapped the seat belt around the dog sitting in the backseat. Bailey caught the look. “She barks if I don’t put the seat belt on her.”

  Cassie smiled indulgently. “Okay. Do you enjoy it?”

  “PI work?” She shrugged. “Some cases. But mostly it’s following guys who are cheating on their wives, or people who are trying to commit insurance fraud. It pays the bills and it keeps me busy.” She pulled away from the curb.

  “But you’re really a cop at heart and being anything other than that is hard for you.”

  “Yeah. I miss being part of something bigger, something that really made a difference.” She snorted a short laugh. “At least in theory, anyway.”

  “You said you were in the FBI. A field agent?”

  “Yeah. I worked with a team trying to make some headway into the number of girls being smuggled into the country for sex slaves. For every one we caught, five more were—are—smuggled in. It’s a never ending battle.”

  “It must have been so hard.”

  Bailey shrugged. “Some days more so than others.”

  “Is that why you retired?”

  “No. It probably should have been, but I took early retirement for health reasons.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Everything okay now?”

  “Yup.” She smiled. “Seems when they told God I might be on my way he decided he wasn’t ready for me.”

  Cassie laughed. “I’m very glad to hear that. What is it they say, you can’t keep a good woman down?”

  “I thought it was you can’t put a good woman down.”

  “That too.” They laughed together easily, and Bailey found herself surprised at how much she enjoyed Cassie’s company, and found herself wanting to share. She wasn’t sure what was going on with her lately, taking in a stray dog, taking chances on people, having fun, laughing.

  “I was diagnosed with renal cancer. Had a kidney removed and now I’m all good.”

  “Full remission?”

  “Yup. And if I
didn’t know I only had one kidney, I would never know the difference. I don’t pee less or anything.” She laughed. “I wish I did.”

  Cassie laughed. “Tell me about it. I’m getting up three times a night on a good day. This getting older stuff sucks.”

  “Yup, laughing doesn’t help my cause either. That’s why I try to maintain that gruff exterior.” Bailey knew from her research that Cassie was fifty-five years old, but if she hadn’t seen her birth certificate, she’d never have believed it. Sure, there were a few fine lines around her eyes, a few gray hairs softened the vibrant auburn she had seen in earlier pictures, and the years had softened the lines of her jaw, but Cassie was a beautiful woman. Age twenty or eighty, she always would be, and the more time Bailey spent getting to know her wit, her intelligence, and her humor, the more attractive she became.

  “Oh, is that what that is? Your incontinence cure?”

  “Yup. It was working up till now.”

  Cassie grinned. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, you look it.”

  “Everyone needs to laugh sometimes.”

  “Then I’m glad to be of service.” Bailey pulled up outside Cassie’s apartment building.

  “Do you have that pamphlet for me?”

  “What pamphlet?”

  “With your fees on it?”

  “Oh, right. Hang on.” She reached over and opened the glove box. A packet of mints, a plastic ball, and a single glove tumbled onto Cassie’s lap while Bailey managed to keep the rest of the contents from escaping. “Sorry, it’s in here somewhere.”

  Cassie giggled as she held up the ball. “No worries. Take your time.” She squeezed on the ball, and chuckled harder when it blew a raspberry at her. Bailey looked up, still stretched across the center console, hand still wedged in the glove box. The streetlight illuminated Cassie’s smiling face, and her moist lips glistened in the orange glow. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, and her eyes seemed to twinkle in the low light. Bailey’s breath caught in her chest and she quickly moved away, pulling the contents of the glove box out and scattering them everywhere.

  She hoped the low light covered the blush she knew covered her cheeks as she scrambled to make her brain work. “Sorry, cramp,” she said, gripping her thigh, hoping the ruse would cover her idiocy.

  “Oh gosh. Are you okay?” Cassie started gathering the dropped items. “Can you get the door open to put your leg out?” She quickly piled the papers and odd items together and climbed out of the car, running to the driver’s side.

  Oh shit. I didn’t think this one through.

  Cassie pulled open the door. “Here. Stick your leg out and I’ll massage it for you.”

  Forget that, I wasn’t thinking at all. Mortified, she could think of nothing else to do than swing her leg out and mumble under her breath. “It feels a lot better already. You don’t need to do that, but thanks.”

  “It’s no problem.” She gripped Bailey’s thigh and started to knead the muscle. “This doesn’t feel too bad.”

  “No, like I said, it feels a lot better.” She flinched when I touched her in the coffee shop, but now she’s got her hands all over my thigh. What gives?

  “More salt.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “You need a little more salt in your diet to keep the cramps at bay. I’m guessing you have to watch your salt intake with the kidney, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You might need to increase it slightly. Try electrolyte drinks. Sports mix, something like that. It’ll help stop the cramps.”

  “Thanks.” Bailey was mumbling, but she couldn’t help it. She was embarrassed and remembered exactly why she avoided people. She was awkward in social situations. She could talk to anyone when she had a goal, information to find out, situations to resolve, no problem. But just talking, being friendly, and being comfortable with someone was rare and the people who made her feel that way she could count on one hand. “I’ll be fine now. Why don’t you go on up and I’ll call you when I have some more information.”

  “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “Positive.”

  “I have my checkbook in my apartment. You can wait here while I get it, or you can both come up if you like.”

  Bailey didn’t want to wait, and she didn’t want to go into Cassie’s apartment. She wanted to go home, lie on the sofa with her dog, and forget she’d been an idiot. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t I pick it up in the morning while I’m out walking Jazz? That way you don’t have to come back down and I don’t have to climb the stairs.” She pointed at her thigh. “What with the cramp and all.”

  “Of course, but I don’t mind coming back down.”

  “Really, it’s fine. I’ll be out walking Jazz early anyway, so it’s really no problem.”

  Cassie frowned. “You’re sure.”

  “I am.” She smiled, inordinately pleased that she could escape. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I have to leave by seven thirty.”

  “I’ll be here before then.”

  Cassie held out her hand. “Thank you for changing your mind.”

  Bailey shook her hand and hoped her palms didn’t feel as damp as she thought they were, and tried to ignore the tingling skin where Cassie’s fingers wrapped around her own. “You’re welcome.”

  “Good night, Bailey.”

  Cassie closed the car door and trotted up the steps to her front door. She waved before disappearing inside. Bailey thumped her head against the headrest. “And don’t you say anything either,” she said, looking over her shoulder to the dog sitting on the backseat. “We’re just gonna pretend she isn’t pretty, and act all professional. She’s hired us to do a job, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” Jazz barked, seemingly in agreement. “No drooling, no fawning over her, and no leg humping.” Jazz whined. “Okay, you’re right, you wouldn’t do that.” Bailey started the engine. “Professional, girl, we can do that, right?”

  Jazz barked.

  “I’m glad you have faith in us.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cassie closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against it. Her head and shoulders slumped under the barrage of memories and emotions she could no longer hold back. She wrapped her arms around herself and slid to the floor, imagining her baby girl cradled in her arms. The sweet scent of her skin as she slept filled Cassie’s nostrils, the tiny noises she made echoed in her ears, little feet kicked against the blanket she was swaddled in as she dreamed those first baby dreams, and Cassie cried. Her whole body shook as she let one memory after the other crash over her. She saw herself lifting Daniela onto a swing, pushing her higher with each excited shout from her lips. She remembered Karen on a seesaw with her, laughing as Daniela giggled and tried to kick herself up against Karen’s counterweight. Determination was the only thing powering her legs against the impossible task.

  “Oh, Karen.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  Her sobs seemed to echo in the empty apartment. It was comfortable, it was functional, but it wasn’t home. It never had been. There was too much missing for her to ever call it that. Shelves and coffee tables that had once been bare were now scattered with framed pictures. If anyone found her now, the pictures of her old life wouldn’t matter anymore. Daniela smiled out of so many of them. As a young child, with pigtails and a missing tooth, looking up from the pages of a picture book, and concentrating on eating an ice-cream cone without missing any of the drips that ran over her fingers. In every picture, she looked happy. Then as she got older, there were pictures with Karen. Pictures where she smiled, but her eyes looked sad. Pictures taken with her father, where Daniela looked alone. There were pictures from school open events Cassie had snuck into and captured as best she could. A picture of a twelve-year-old Daniela on stage playing piano, her head bent over the huge instrument as she performed. Cassie had been so proud to hear her play. Even now, she teared up whenever she heard the piece, Beethoven’s Moonlight Sona
ta. She played it with such melancholia, so much heartbreaking loss, and Cassie couldn’t help but wonder at the loneliness her beloved child must have felt to capture the emotion of the piece so completely. That had been the last time she’d seen her. The last time she had watched her child in the flesh, seen her move, and smile, and giggle as she was praised for her performance. The last time she had thought herself and her daughter were safe.

  So many times she had wished she could turn back the clock and make a different choice. She could have said yes to William’s despicable desires. She could have created some sort of weapon for him. She possessed the knowledge; she had the skill. But what then? Then she would have been dangerous to him as well as no longer useful, and her life would have been forfeit anyway. Of that, she had no doubt. But what of Daniela? Would it have been better for her if she had done as William wanted?

  “If wishes were horses.” She wiped her face and pushed herself up from the floor. “I’d have ridden over you, you old bastard.” She hung up her coat and grabbed a carton of soup from the refrigerator. She washed her face while she waited for the microwave and stared at the image the glass showed. She looked as tired as she felt, and her eyes stung from her earlier tears. She pushed her fingers through her hair and sighed. The additional gray at the temples made her consider just how much time had passed.

  The microwave pinged and she flipped the light off and headed to the kitchen. She stopped and put a hand to her chest, nearly fainting at the sight in front of her.

  “This tastes funny.” A dark haired man stood in front of the microwave and slurped at her soup.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack. What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” She took the bowl of soup away from him and dumped it in the sink.

  “Hey, I was eating that.”

  “Yeah? Well, it’s contaminated.” She tried to keep control of her temper, but she hated the way he seemed to think he could invade her life whenever he felt like it. “What do you want, Mr. Knight?”

  Knight smiled. “Someone has been asking questions about you. Flags have been raised. I came by to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Really? Well, as you can see, I’m just fine.”