Hindsight

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Hindsight Page 6

by Jody Klaire


  “Do you know why she was with Jessie?” Renee smiled and patted my hand as she focused on my mother. It only made me feel more wriggly.

  “Running an errand,” my mother said, smiling back at Renee. “Before you ask, Ursula said it was personal and she’d talk to me when she got back.” She held up her hand. “That was the whole message.”

  Renee scowled but said nothing.

  I knew what she wanted to ask. “Why did you let Jessie go with her?”

  My mother sipped at her hot chocolate. “I trust Ursula.”

  “She’s a minor,” Renee mumbled, trying not to look like she objected too much. She still hadn’t touched her whiskey.

  My mother gave her the kind of maternal stare that Nan had always given me: Eyebrows tilted in the middle, wrinkling up her forehead. “And Ursula is aware of that fact. Have you ever known her to act with anything other than complete awareness for others?”

  Renee thumbed over a drip of condensation on her glass.

  My mother smiled. “Didn’t think so.”

  “But you’re not telling us somethin’.” I scowled at my mother, catching the glimmer of her veiling the truth. “You didn’t authorize her going and you sure-as-shoots didn’t authorize her taking Jessie.”

  My mother sighed. “You’d be a fantastic poker player.”

  “I ain’t the one into gamblin’.” I took a swig of my chocolate, thankful for the sugary hit.

  Half window stretching up from the solid floor: Light flashing on, off, on, off. Smell of rust, damp.

  I took too much chocolate, swallowed, winced, coughed, rubbing at my throat.

  “If she took Jessie, it was for a reason,” my mother shot back. She took a swig of her own chocolate in response.

  “If you’re her boss, ain’t you suppose to know what your people are doing?” I leaned forward, trying not to show my eyes were stinging from swallowing wrong.

  “I’m not her boss.” She fixed on me, unyielding. “Ursula is in charge of the base. I’m . . . a subject matter expert.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So you rope her in to take all the responsibility when you cause the mess?”

  “She’s a general. That’s what she’s paid for.” My mother still hadn’t blinked. “I stayed on after my contract finished. I did my time being the one in charge.”

  I scowled. Hah. “What would you know about doin’ time any place?”

  “Right, well, this is helpful.” Renee tapped her glass to the table top. We both glared but she tapped the glass again. “So we have established that Ursula is Tasered, she may or may not have Jessie with her. She’s somewhere near a river that smells and near a port. There’s also some kind of odd light beyond the window. We don’t know why she’s wherever she is and we don’t know if she’s hurt?”

  My mother and I both nodded.

  Renee rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Is there anything else . . . anything at all?”

  “I saw a window. Half window. Like somebody had buried the bottom half.” I turned to look at my mother. I expected her to fire something back but she shook her head. For once, I got the feeling she was being truthful.

  She let out a long breath. “Ursula is a general and when the head of the task force goes missing . . .”

  Renee groaned and thunked her head to the table.

  I frowned at her. “What?”

  She didn’t look terrified and her energy was more, “I don’t need this,” than “Uh oh.”

  “I’ll head back to the base,” my mother said. “I’ll try and keep them from realizing for as long as possible.”

  Renee knocked back her whiskey. Her expression stoic. Her eyes stared off into some thought.

  “Why?” I looked at my mother, knowing Renee was zoned out. “Why are you leaving dad. You can’t.” I looked at Renee when my mother set her jaw. “Why . . . who . . . why are you getting drunk again?”

  “Again?” My mother raised her eyebrows.

  Renee didn’t say a word.

  “Her birthday,” I mumbled. “Next year I’m keeping her away from Fitzpatrick.” I fixed my mother with a glare. “So . . . why?”

  Renee put her head in her hands.

  My mother gave me a wry smile. “When a team leader or general goes missing, our internal affairs team is called in. The FBI internal affairs.”

  “Why them?”

  She looked down her nose at me like I should know. “Because that’s the official line of who we are.” She stared at her nails. “Helps us to be accountable.”

  Did it? I was pretty sure that the FBI didn’t have generals. “That makes no sense.”

  “It’s a joint task force. It’s a long story. I came from the FBI; other members came from the military.” She sighed. “Complications a long time ago meant we had to sever the force . . . officially. It doesn’t exist. We are just an investigative section . . . officially.”

  “So why would they know about Frei? It’s just protocol, right?”

  My mother nodded. “The IA can’t know what we do or how we operate. That’s why they call her a lead agent. We’re all FBI to them. It makes everything . . . difficult. Renee and Ursula are from the military side but the IA can’t know that.” She sighed. “They like making demands and asking too many questions.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re paid to be irritating.” My mother tapped her nails to her mug. “But they will try and find blame and dig into our personal files. They really want an excuse to go looking for answers.”

  “Which are all made up anyhow.” I didn’t see why it was such a big issue.

  “If they realize that, they shut CIG down,” Renee mumbled. “If they find out we have minors on base or that Ursula took one on an errand, they shut us down.” She thumbed her empty glass. “If they find out about Ursula’s past—”

  “They shut CIG down?” I asked.

  Renee nodded.

  “Which you’ve dealt with before, right?” I got a flash of suited folks irritating my mother. “So why is this time different?”

  My mother looked from Renee to me as if she’d expected me to know that part. “Renee?”

  I tried not to get irritated at the fact she’d kept something from me . . . again. Renee stayed staring into space.

  “Because of who is the head of the IA,” my mother said, shaking her head at Renee.

  “I need more whiskey.”

  I frowned. “Why?” I looked from my mother to her. “Do I need to start roughing you up?” What was with withholding everything? “Who leads the IA?”

  “Someone who won’t be very pleased.” My mother stared at Renee as if trying to get her to open up. I shoved my chocolate away and sat back.

  Good luck with that. Unless she planned on cracking her like a coconut, Renee wasn’t spilling anything. She stared into her glass like she’d burst into tears any second. I hated that she was in pain, that she was worried and I didn’t know why.

  “Lilia?” I snapped.

  At my term for her, my mother blinked a few times. She looked like I’d Tasered her. “Abby Fleming is the head of the IA.”

  Renee shut her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek.

  “Who is?” I rolled my hand, hoping somebody would fill me in.

  Renee let out a long shuddering breath and met my eyes. “My ex-fiancé.”

  I stared at her.

  Huh?

  She held her breath, all tensed up like she was waiting for a reaction. My brain cells had gone on vacation.

  Huh?

  “IA still gotta be professional, right?” I muttered at my mother, tearing my eyes away from Renee. She’d nearly gone and married somebody and never told me nothing. You’d think that might have been something she’d have wanted to share.

  “She still thinks I’m MIA,” Renee whispered.

  I folded my arms, about ready to throw something at her. “From when?”

  “France.” Her lip wobbled. Her eyes searched mine.

  I glared at my mother,
not knowing what to say to Renee. So she’d not told me anything but some poor woman hadn’t been told nothing since Renee had been taken by Yannick?

  That sucked. That really sucked.

  My mother held up her hands. “That was my call. It was better for everyone at the time.”

  “Because of Yannick?” I asked. I caught Renee flinch. I hadn’t meant to say it so gruffly. I couldn’t help it. The guy had hurt her and she’d told me nothing. She’d nearly been married to somebody and she’d told me nothing.

  “Yes.” My mother cleared her throat. She seemed to be studying my face as much as Renee. “So I will gather the team. If you retrace Ursula’s steps, perhaps you might pick something up.”

  Renee frowned. “We don’t have a clue where to star—”

  “Bess,” fell out of my mouth before I realized I’d opened it. Who was Bess?

  “So we have that much,” Renee said. I caught her shaking her head out the corner of my eye but couldn’t look at her. Didn’t need to. I could feel she knew who I was on about. “Can you tell if Urs is injured?”

  “No,” I grunted.

  “Then we need to get going. Quickly.” Renee got up but I didn’t move.

  “How long can you hold off the IA?” I asked my mother. Something inside seemed to prickle into life.

  “A couple of days at most,” she said, fiddling with her wedding ring. “I’m risking a lot not to inform them immediately.”

  I held up my hand. That wouldn’t do. “You wouldn’t know Frei was missing if you weren’t freaky, right?”

  My mother smiled. “True, but I am.”

  “But they don’t know that, do they?”

  She shook her head.

  “So that gives us a week at least.” I heard Renee slump back down into her seat at my words. “If you go charging off to the base and raising the alarm before Frei is classified as missing, how does it look?”

  “Like we’re guilty of something,” Renee mumbled. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throttle her or demand why she couldn’t tell me anything. Was I that scary to talk to?

  “Do they know about the kids from Caprock?” I focused on my mother.

  “No.”

  “We move them.” I closed my eyes. “Use that receptionist of hers. She doesn’t give nothin’ away. We can trust her. Send the team out on vacation. The less they know, the less chance somebody will slip up.”

  I could feel them both staring at me but just concentrated. Frei had taught me a lot. I’d listened. I’d learned from her. I just needed to act how she would. Be logical, icy, calm. She needed me calm. “An’ keep the CIG team away from the kids. If they don’t know, they won’t have to lie.” I opened my eyes. “Do any of them know Jessie went with her?”

  My mother shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “So they only know she went on vacation.” I rubbed my chin. “You head there in a few days, that way it only looks like you’re covering her off-duty. It should give you enough time to ditch the files you’re panicking about.” I nodded. That sounded about right. “Maybe you need to doctor Renee’s files too?”

  My mother smiled such a wide smile that I felt warm all over. “Who is the junior agent in this room?”

  “I’m not sure if I am an agent or a soldier or either.” I knew I’d signed stuff but couldn’t remember much about the whole thing. In all fairness to me I’d been groggy and in pain from my jaw.

  “I’m not sure if I should feel proud or terrified,” Renee mumbled. I noticed neither answered my question.

  “Frei’s a good teacher.” It sounded blunter than I’d meant.

  “Indeed.” My mother nodded at me. “What about you and Renee?”

  “Renee and I head out on a road trip in the morning.” If we went racing off at night folk would talk. If the IA came asking questions, they’d think that was pretty suspicious. “Could it be somebody from Caprock trying to draw us out?”

  “Jäger and Harrison went into hiding, so it’s a possibility.” Renee’s desperation to get me to look at her only made it harder to.

  “It could be anyone,” my mother said. “Follow the evidence. Treat it logically.”

  “We need an investigator for this.” Renee got up from her chair. Her aura jolted about: She couldn’t take me not looking at her any longer. “Aeron may have senses but I’m no sleuth.”

  “You helped me figure out that it was Sam.” I broke out of my shock, reached for her hand, and gave it a squeeze.

  Flash. A beautiful woman smiling; a proud smile. A dazzling ring on her finger.

  I cleared my throat. “Guess that’s Fleming.”

  Renee’s cheeks flushed. “I only figured out it was Sam after you and the CIG team. Mrs. Squirrel has more of a shot at piecing it together than me.”

  I looked at my mother. “Any ideas?”

  She stared down at her nails. “One. But it could put him in danger . . . I really don’t want him involved but we could use his help.”

  I shook my head. “There is no way that we’re using Dad.”

  “Aeron, now . . .” My mother’s voice trailed off as she turned to the stairs.

  “What’s wrong with me?” my dad asked.

  I groaned. I’d felt him but I still jumped.

  “You’re meant to sleep heavy.”

  He put his hands on his hips. “My wife disappeared in the middle of the night.” He shrugged. His boxer shorts and tank top a real fetching combination. Polka dots?

  “One of our team is missing,” my mother said, turning and taking his hand. “Agent Frei.”

  My dad sucked in his breath. He remembered Frei alright.

  “We could use your help,” Renee whispered, ignoring the glare from me.

  He took a seat beside my mother. “Hit me with it.”

  “What happened to keeping him safe?” I muttered. I didn’t want him in danger at all. He’d been through enough stress with Sam. I didn’t want his heart getting strained again.

  “I worked a lot of missing persons’ cases.” He smiled at me. His receding hairline was shiny. “Serial killers weren’t a strong point but this I can do.”

  My mother looked at him adoringly; Renee’s confidence soared at his words; and me, I rubbed the back of my neck, admitting defeat.

  “Guess we should start with our previous . . . er . . . case then?” I asked.

  I expected somebody to object, to remind me I couldn’t tell him too much, but nope, they just nodded and waited for me to start.

  I sighed. So much for my vacation. “Right . . . So . . . There was this academy in Texas . . .”

  Chapter 7

  FREI TOUCHED HER fingers to her bleeding lip. The guard had been at it for hours, or what felt like it, and so far, all he’d managed to do was bore her and split her lip.

  It didn’t help his eyes kept flickering as though he would fit any moment. Did he have a condition? She wasn’t sure what the protocol was for prisoner-interrogator medical ethics. Did she just leave him and escape or help him recover so he could tie her back up? It wasn’t in the handbook.

  He stared out through the grimy window as she freed her other arm from the plastic binds. They really needed to rethink their slave training because he definitely hadn’t been in Caprock. At least they taught their thugs properly.

  She strolled over to the door between them and closed it, locking the idiot inside his office. He wouldn’t notice for a while, whatever he was smoking smelled far stronger than cigarettes.

  She turned her attention to the state-of-the-art door: Alarmed, touch sensitive, fingerprinted, electrified, and—she glanced up—yes, filmed.

  That would lead her to explore other options normally but she had Jessie’s inhaler. Jessie was through that door. She pursed her lips as she thought through her options. Good thing she’d been training to do this since childhood.

  Huber looked like a giant behind his desk. His stern face was unreadable as she stood there. At around t
en years old, not that she really knew how old she was, she could just about manage to peek over the top.

  “Megan believes you are breaking out during the evenings,” he said in his usual emotionless tone.

  Megan.

  Frei fought the urge to scowl. Megan wouldn’t know if Jäger wasn’t creeping around and informing her. Jäger. She shuddered. He was a creep.

  “She tells me the school has reported Suz to her on several occasions.”

  Suz did a lot of things. She was getting worse. Frei didn’t understand why she was so set on getting into trouble. She’d help her when asked, of course she would, but it just seemed so pointless. Megan was no worse than the other house matrons. She was fairer than a lot of them. Sometimes.

  “If she falls pregnant, girl, she won’t be of any use to me.”

  Frei stared at the desk. She didn’t know what Suz was doing but Huber was probably right. She had most of the boys in Caprock sniffing around her. Some of the staff too. Suz found it funny. It wasn’t. Why would she like that?

  “It takes a clever brain to bypass the campus security.”

  Frei kept staring at the desk.

  Slam.

  His palm smacked the surface of the wood.

  She jumped. Her heart pounded. She recoiled, ready for him to hit her next.

  His face was in hers. He gripped hold of her collar, his eyes blazing. “Who hurts you?”

  Frei covered her face ready for his blow.

  He shook her. “Who has hit you, girl?”

  She peeked through her fingers. Worry? There was worry in his voice and anger in his eyes. Why?

  Frei shook her head.

  “Who?”

  She bit her lip. Tears streamed down her face. She hated that she cried when she was angry. She hated that she wasn’t strong like Suz. Suz laughed, she laughed even when they hurt her but Frei? No, she cried.

  “Huber?” Megan’s voice sounded in the distance.

  Panic shot through her. She tried to pull free.

  Huber held fast. “She does, doesn’t she?”

  She tried to pull free again. Megan would be mad if she caught her.

  Huber held her tighter.

 

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