Blurring the Line

by Kierney Scott

  The person that had done this was sadistic and evil. Patterson was right; the culprit had enjoyed it. Why couldn’t she feel that? Where was her empathy? The first thing she thought when Patterson had told her Martinez was dead was that she would never see Torres again. Sick. She was sick in the head.

  Realisation slapped her hard in the face. She was responsible for this too. She had sought Torres out, pushed him into this. She knew exactly what was going to happen. She knew before she knocked on his door how her plan was going to play out.

  Oh God she was going to throw up. What was wrong with her?

  Beth ran to the bathroom and hunched over the toilet. Her stomach cramped as she was sick over and over.

  Beth sat back on the cool tiles. She pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. She couldn’t be this woman. She couldn’t look past what Torres did. Killing was one thing, but torture was another. She shook her head. She was rationalising murder. Did her mom rationalise the bank robbery? Beth wasn’t that woman.

  She stood up and washed her face. She might be sick in the head but she wasn’t going to be that woman.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Beth picked up Alejandra and headed for the door. This was the first day of their new routine and she had managed to get Baby Girl up and ready before 7am. It had very nearly been a victory but Alejandra decided Beth’s silk blouse was the perfect place to rub her apple sauce. In all fairness, it was Beth’s own fault for trying to dress up for work. It was her first official day back and she wanted to try to make an effort, but it really wasn’t her and everyone in her office already knew that. She didn’t need to fake it with them. Beth stripped off her blouse and put on a white T-shirt under her navy suit.

  “OK I think we have everything. I packed your lunch. I have two changes of clothes for you, a bag of diapers, and your wipes. What else?” Beth asked but Alejandra was no help. She just smiled and grabbed Beth’s car keys. “No, Mija. I need those.”

  OK they were finally ready to go. Beth balanced Alejandra in one arm and opened the door with the other. She held her key ring between her teeth and the baby’s bag under her chin. Yes, she was getting the hang of this mom thing. She could do this for the next month or so.

  “Hey.”

  Beth’s head shot up and the bag she had skilfully placed under her chin fell, spilling the contents over the wooden floor.

  Beth’s mouth dropped open and her keys fell out of her mouth and into her modest cleavage. Her heart stopped and then started again, beating erratically, first fast and then slow and then fast again, finally settling on a bit just short of fibrillation.

  “Torres.” His name came out a whisper.

  He was here.

  His hair was still short to his head but he had not shaved it. Nor had he shaved his beard. He was wearing his trademark white T-shirt and faded jeans.

  She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t supposed to be here. She always knew once Martinez was dead Torres would be gone. But he was here.

  “Hola, Gatita.” Torres smiled. He reached down and picked up the wipes and clothes and put them back in the diaper bag.

  “What are you doing here?” Beth asked. The photos of Martinez flashed in her mind like morbid snap shots. Beth took a step back. Instinctively she held Alejandra closer. She was looking at Torres but all she could see was the dead body sprawled out on the tile floor.

  He reached out to touch her. Beth flinched. There was no conscious thought behind the action, just her body’s attempt to protect her.

  Torres’ eyes narrowed. He placed his hand on her wrist. He was testing her to see if she would pull it away. Beth forced herself to stay perfectly still.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Beth’s back straightened. “I didn’t expect to see you.” She left out the words ‘ever again’ but that is what she meant. It shamed her that she kept her phone beside her bed last night. She told herself it was in case her sister or Patterson needed to get a hold of her but it was for the pathetic part of her that had hoped Torres would phone, but he didn’t. Why would he? He had gotten what he wanted from their deal.

  “You’re scared of me,” Torres said. His voice was incredulous. Betrayal flashed over his face, gone as quickly as it appeared.

  She forced herself to look him directly in the eye. Thankfully he could not feel her heart’s violent assault on her ribs or he would have known he was right. “I told you, I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “And I told you, you’re a shitty liar. I can read you. This is how you looked when Flores had you. Is that how you think of me now?”

  Beth bit into her lip. She needed the sharp sting to focus her. She wasn’t afraid of Torres: not in the same way. Or maybe she was. God she couldn’t think. He was too close. His strong hand was still wrapped around her wrist. Her body betrayed her by warming under his touch. She was horrified by what he had done, but because it was Torres, her body forgot to be appalled.

  But she still had enough sense to be ashamed of her reaction. It didn’t matter that it was Torres. It shouldn’t matter that it was Torres…

  She now understood the magnitude of the choice her mom was forced to make. She could have left her dad, made a good life, but something inside stopped her: love…stupidity.

  Now Beth had a choice.

  “Tell me what happened in Bogotá,” Beth demanded.

  She would make a better choice than her mom.

  Torres tensed.

  “Don’t think about lying to me.” She didn’t put it past him. He was a killer after all. But she wasn’t going to give him a chance to lie because she just might be tempted to believe him. She had let herself believe she could trust him once. “The GPS from your text, I saw it. You told me you were in Mazatlan. That is where you said you were going to be. I remember because I wished I were there with you. But you weren’t in Mexico at all, were you?”

  His jaw clenched. Even through his thick beard she could see the muscles tense along his jaw. His eyes narrowed. “Yes I was in Colombia. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  His hand was still wrapped around her wrist. Beth didn’t pull away because a perverse part of her wanted him to touch her, even if it was in anger. God she was sick…but she was strong, and unlike her mom she could give up on someone. “Why would I be worried? You’re obviously more than capable of taking care of yourself. Did you cut out his tongue first so he couldn’t scream? Or was it his eyes?”

  Torres scoffed. “So Patterson sent you the pictures.” Torres shook his head. “What an asshole.”

  “Yep he is but he isn’t a cold-blooded killer,” she scoffed.

  “But I am. That’s what you’re saying.” He shook his head again, the anger becoming clearer in his dark features.

  Beth tried to pull her wrist away but he wouldn’t let her. “I have seen the pictures,” she reminded him.

  “Ask me if I did it, Beth.” His voice was cold. There was no emotion there, just a command.

  “Why? So you can lie to me?”

  Torres smiled, but there was nothing friendly about the small movement. It was more like a lion bearing his teeth to his prey. “No, because I need to see your eyes when I tell you what happened.”

  Beth tried again to pull her arm away. “I don’t want to hear it.” She couldn’t trust herself to not be sucked in.

  Torres increased the pressure on her wrist. She wasn’t going anywhere. Her arm was getting tired from holding Alejandra but she refused to put her down.

  “He was dead when I found him.” His stare bore down on her, scrutinising and cold. The anger was palpable, a controlled rage radiated from him. She didn’t trust herself to look at him. She wouldn’t let herself be sucked in.

  Suddenly Torres dropped her hand. He shook his head. “You don’t trust me. You never will. Jesus, Beth, you’re scared of me.”

  Beth didn’t say anything.

  “You are. You’re scared and you’re really shitty at hiding it. You did a better job hiding it when it was Flo
res. I scare you more than he did.” Torres laughed. It was a bitter sound, void of any joy. “That must mean anything I could do to you would be far more repulsive than anything Flores could do. Is that what you are thinking? Do you wish now it had been Flores in your bed?”

  Beth took a step back. “I saw the pictures.” Her voice was paper thin. She squeezed Alejandra tighter.

  “Ask me if I did it!” His rage was barely concealed. Beth had no doubt that had she been a man, Torres would have grabbed her by the throat by now.

  “No.” She didn’t want to hear. She didn’t need details. “Just go.”

  Torres took a step closer, closing the space between them. “Ask me,” he seethed between clenched teeth.

  Beth shook her head. She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was too dry and her vocal cords would betray her by shaking.

  “Ask me, Beth.”

  She shook her head again.

  “These are details you can’t ignore. I planned the way I was going to kill him in detail, every single part of it. I had two years to think about it. I knew what I was going to say. I knew what the gun would feel like in my hand as I squeezed the trigger. I knew what his eyes would look like. I could imagine the fear.”

  “Stop it!”

  “No. You were happy for me to kill him when it suited you. What happened, Beth? Why did you change your mind? Did your little pretending game stop working? What a shame that you had to grow up and join the rest of us in the real world. It’s a big bad place out here.”

  “Stop it!” Beth squeezed her lids shut.

  “Open your eyes, Beth. I’m not done. I didn’t get to the best part. I had two years to plan it. The least you can do is give me five minutes to explain it. You owe me that.”

  Beth forced herself to open her eyes.

  “My plan was simple, so simple. I wouldn’t even need to speak to him. I would hold a gun to his head and wait for the recognition to flash in his eyes. Then the fear would come, he would beg but I wouldn’t say a word because nothing could be as bad as the screams coming from inside his head. I would wait until the fear buckled his knees and then I would shoot him, right here.” Torres reached out and marked the spot on her forehead directly between her eyes.

  A bolt of sheer terror ran the length of her spine. If she wasn’t holding Alejandra she may have fallen under the magnitude of emotion that hit her, but the baby’s small form gave her strength.

  “You wanted a killer. You hired a killer. What’s wrong, can’t handle the details?”

  “Stop.” The word barely made it past her lips; it was a pathetic strangled sound.

  “No. I’m not going to stop. I haven’t gotten to the best part. You’re going to want to hear this. This is a detail you’re not going to want to miss. It really adds to the story. Hopefully you can appreciate the irony. No, don’t look away. I need to see your eyes when I tell you.” Torres held her chin firmly in place. “This is the part where there is a plot change. I found Martinez. I watched him. I followed him. I stalked him. I knew when he ate and when he slept and when he wiped his ass. There were dozens of times when I could have pulled the trigger. He was mine. Ask me why I didn’t.”

  Beth closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at him any longer.

  Torres squeezed her chin. It didn’t hurt but it was enough for her to know she had to comply.

  She forced her eyes wide. “Why didn’t you kill him when you first had the chance? Why did you wait?”

  “Because there was something more important than my revenge. Can you think what that might have been, Gatita?”

  Beth shook her head.

  “I didn’t kill Martinez. I followed him because he could lead me to El Escorpion. That was more important to me. After two years I gave up on getting revenge. Why? Ask me why, Beth.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Because finding El Escorpion was more important for you. I did it for you. I didn’t kill Martinez because I knew you needed him and you are more important to me than revenge or Archila or anything else. I found Martinez’s body. I phoned it in. I’m the one who took the pictures. Did Patterson tell you that part?”

  Beth shook her head. Her head spun. She couldn’t think. The photos played in her mind. It was all too much.

  “No, I bet he didn’t tell you that part. Well fuck him. And fuck you, Beth. You don’t trust me, and you never will. So fuck you!” He fired the words out like bullets, each one tearing a fresh hole in her.

  Alejandra startled. Her brown eyes brimmed with tears and then she screamed.

  Torres dropped his hand from her and turned and walked down the cobbled path to her front gate, away from her, away from her life.

  Beth opened her mouth to speak. But nothing came out. There were no words. She closed her eyes and let the pain and confusion wash over her. She wanted to scream and tell him not to leave. Her body wanted to run after him and beg him to stay. But she wouldn’t because she would make a better choice than her mom.

  ***

  Torres clenched his hands into fists. Anger settled in the pit of his stomach like smouldering charcoals. His teeth ground together. Fuck her. And fuck him for thinking she was worth it. He had his chance with Martinez. But he stopped himself. He would never get the closure he wanted, he would never get to see the look of recognition or the fear in Martinez’ eyes. But it was worth it, that is what he told himself. It was worth it if it meant Beth could find El Escorpion. It was worth it if Beth could get her move back to California. It was worth it if it would make her happy. It was worth it if it made her smile.

  Well fuck her.

  None of it was worth it. There was no such thing as fucking closure. And there was no such thing as a happy ending for him. Fuck him for thinking there was.

  He got the look of fear he wanted, but it didn’t come from Martinez. She was scared of him. She may as well have kicked him in the solar plexus. That would have been less painful and just as effective. He didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought of him. People looked at him and saw a monster and he didn’t give a shit. But Beth…

  Fuck her. He shook his head. He was done. Done with her, done with the DEA. He was just done.

  He slammed the door to his SUV and drove off.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Who sent you the photos from Bogotá?” Beth demanded.

  She had finally made her way into her office. Alejandra, the sweetest natured child in the world, had chosen today of all days to develop separation anxiety. She screamed when Beth tried to leave her in day care. The irony was that Hannah, the day-care provider, actually knew what she was doing, but Alejandra didn’t seem to care, it was one change too many for her. She clung to Beth, her tiny hands fisted in Beth’s hair, ready to pull out every last strand if she dared to try to put her down again. Beth sat with her for over an hour reading books and showing Alejandra all the toys to play with.

  Finally Hannah told Beth she was actually making it worse by giving in to Alejandra. Hannah was very nice about it and the way she explained it made perfect sense, Beth was reinforcing Alejandra’s tantrum by staying with her. But still it ripped Beth’s heart out to leave her. The poor child had just lost her family and Beth was the only familiar face she had. In the end she only left once Hannah promised to call her if Alejandra hadn’t stopped crying in ten minutes.

  And so far, so good.

  Beth crossed Patterson’s office and sat down in the leather captain’s chair across from him. Above his head, on the wall, was the bust of a giant stag, one of five mountings in his office. It had taken Beth a few months to get used to the very Texan practice of hanging carcasses on every wall. At first it reminded her of the roadkill she saw as a kid when she looked out her bedroom window, one of the many perks of having an apartment that overlooked I80. She also got to breathe toxic emissions and watch the occasional high-speed chase.

  Patterson looked up from his paper work. “Morning, California. Get the tamale settled?”

  Beth sighed. “
Alejandra, her name is Alejandra and no she isn’t settled but I dropped her off. Now answer my question.”

  “I can’t even remember your question.”

  “Who sent you the pictures from Colombia?” she asked again.

  Patterson sat back in his chair. “Why?”

  Beth was temporarily back-footed. “Because it is an important detail. I need to know who found his body.”

  “Why?” Patterson asked again.

  Beth sighed. “Stop being a dick and just tell me.”

  “I’ll stop being a dick when you stop being stupid. I know you’re boning him. Everyone in the office knows. You’re smarter than that.” Patterson shook his head. “Look, I like you, Thomson. I don’t like most people but you’re a good egg. Stop thinking with your dick or whatever the female equivalent is.”

  Beth’s back straightened. Jessop knew as did Cynthia and the agents assigned to her at the safe house but she didn’t realise it was public knowledge. She didn’t care; she had nothing to be ashamed of. “What is it to you who I sleep with? I have seen you go through dozens of women since we were partnered. I never would dream about commenting on who you are screwing so please extend the same courtesy to me.”

  “You’re better than that, Beth.”

  Beth bit her lip. She hated when he called her by her first name; it just didn’t sound right, but nor did getting advice from the resident man whore. “What does that even mean, I’m better than what exactly? Better than him? I don’t think so because he is the one out risking his life while we’re sitting here behind desks drinking coffee.”

  “He is a thug. Shit, you know you could do better. Even that accountant douche is better than Torres.”

  Beth’s eyes widened. “He is an actuary and his name is Neil. How do you even know about him?” Beth never talked about her private life with Patterson. She couldn’t remember telling anyone in the office. She might have told Rebekah in human resources. Occasionally they went out for drinks and it could have come up.