Hindsight

by Jody Klaire

  He handed her the needle and thread. “Don’t ask and I won’t have to lie.”

  “You helped Suz, that makes you good in my eyes.” Needle threaded, she sewed. Her hand felt small on his shoulders as she dabbed the wounds, dressed them. “If you need my help . . . I’d like to . . . help.”

  He smiled up at her as she helped him put on a fresh shirt. His chest held thick black curls. His stomach ridged. “Don’t think he’d be happy with that.”

  Frei glanced at the door. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the only one he has eyes on.” He held her gaze with a gentleness that startled her. “Not in the way she thinks.”

  Frei groaned and wiped at her brow. She felt the prickle of the worsening fever and coughed. Jessie squeezed her, the small attempt at comfort brought a smile to her lips. The image of Fahrer rolled through her mind’s eye. Not welcome. She didn’t need those memories.

  Chapter 20

  FUNNY HOW THE other half live.

  There couldn’t have been a bigger contrast between the fish market and the place Renee drove us to. Even at breakneck speed, Renee on the radio to the authorities, it was hard to miss that we were in the rich part of town.

  My, my, Iris had certainly made herself nice and successful. I didn’t know why I was so surprised, the woman had robbed my dad to the point he’d been close to sleeping in his cruiser. To say I weren’t exactly fond of the woman was an understatement.

  “Mercedes, silver, plate number . . .” Renee sounded a lot like a cop. I didn’t know how she did it. It was easy for her to slip in and out of whatever role was needed. She was kinda clever like that. “Three Caucasian males . . .”

  I spotted the Mercedes and there were three young guys surrounding it at the lights. In fact, they’d only just set on the car as we screeched up.

  “Aeron, stay in the car.” Renee pulled her pistol and got out, leaving me staring after her.

  The guys turned at the sight of her. One had a pistol himself. They weren’t in the kind of mood that her requests would be taken on board.

  “Stay in the car?” I sighed, tucking the metal thing my dad had given me in my vest. “I can’t just sit here.”

  Renee yelled out instructions to the assailants but they weren’t shifting. Neither was the Mercedes. I couldn’t figure out why whoever was driving hadn’t floored it.

  One of the men, was no more than a teenager, lanky, bandana covering his lower face. His arms were pale and skinny. He waved his pistol around at her. He held it to the side for some stupid reason. I didn’t even like guns but I knew he’d stand more chance of hitting his buddy on the right than Renee at that angle.

  I kept my eyes on the Mercedes. One of the men turned and sprinted off at the sound of distant sirens.

  The Mercedes could just drive off. Why weren’t they moving.

  I sighed. Iris may not have been my favorite person but she was in need of help. I got out of the car, pulled myself up to my full height, and strode forward. The boy with the gun took one look at me and tripped over his sneakers as he stumbled backward.

  “Kid. I couldn’t care a less what your deal is,” I muttered at him. “They need help.”

  “Move and I’ll pull the trigger.” He waved the gun around some more. Still at the side. Still more chance of hitting the stop sign.

  Renee glanced at me. “You see something?”

  “No, but they haven’t made a getaway.” I kept my eyes on the second assailant, a man, older, maybe the boy’s brother with his complexion and height.

  He had a gun too. His was tucked in his waistband.

  “Iris is good at showing a clean pair of heels,” I said, keeping my eye on him. His aura was kinda shifty.

  Renee sighed. “Get ready to go in.”

  “You move and I’ll shoot.” The boy with the gun’s voice jumped: low to high, bouncing around. If his voice was only just breaking, he was pretty young for carjacking.

  Renee tucked her gun in her holster. “Dwayne, you’ve never fired a gun, have you?”

  The boy glanced at the older brother, or whoever he was, behind him. Something flickered in the sneaky guy’s aura.

  “He ain’t in charge,” I whispered.

  Renee nodded and her eyes met mine. Her words rippled through me. Which is why my gun is loaded. He’s no carjacker.

  Great. That filled me with confidence.

  “Dwayne, my name is Agent Llys,” Renee started with her calm, clear tones. So we were back to Llys. At least it was a name I could remember. “My partner needs to check on the people in the vehicle. I’m going to tell her to do that and you’re going to put the gun down.”

  Dwayne, which I guessed was his name by the way he flinched, shook his head. How’d she know his name? “I’m not playing.”

  “Dwayne.” Renee repeated his name again. Shrink one oh one. “I’m a highly trained marksman. I can hit you in every major artery before you think about squeezing the trigger.” She glanced up at the sneaky guy behind. “That goes for both of you.”

  If Dwayne was capable of dribbling, he would have, but fear had rooted him to the spot.

  “Aeron, go.”

  I nodded and walked as slow as I could with panic thudding through me. I reached the back of the car.

  A flash.

  He said I wouldn’t get paid until it was confirmed.

  “Renee!”

  Bam.

  Bam.

  I ducked as a bullet pinged off the top of the Mercedes. “Renee?”

  “I’m fine.”

  I yanked open the door. The guy in the driver’s seat was bleeding. “He’s been hit.”

  Iris was over him. Her hands red with his blood as she tried to keep pressure on it. I couldn’t heal. I couldn’t help. Sirens blasted through the air. An ambulance among the squad cars.

  The bullet was in the guy’s side. I couldn’t heal him but I could tell the medics as much as possible. I closed my eyes and concentrated on it. The flashes of what happened rippled through my vision as I tried to focus.

  “Aeron?”

  I met Iris’s eyes and nodded.

  “He needs surgery,” I said to the medic who hurried over. “Bullet went all the way through.”

  The medic looked up at me, nodded, and fired off instructions to the others.

  “Renee, tell me you’re okay and ain’t bleeding!”

  Her hand on my arm shot comfort through me.

  “We need to get Iris to a safe place not the hospital.” I turned to her. “That man tried to kill him.”

  “He’s not a problem anymore.” She nodded to the medics huddled around him. “He’s lucky I aimed for his vest.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Why was he wearing a vest?”

  “That’s for the police to figure out.” Renee stepped toward the car as Iris followed Joey who was being stretchered off. She looked frozen, numb. “Ma’am, my name is Agent Llys. You need to come with us.”

  “Whoa there,” a guy said, flashing a detective’s badge at her. “You don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

  Renee looked to me as she ushered Iris toward our car. You have this.

  Me? I’d sort it out? Here went nothing.

  “Witness protection,” I said with as much confidence as I could.

  “That’s the D.A. you’re carting off.” He shook his head. “I don’t think she’s in a program.”

  “No, but the person she’s protecting is. You think carjackers stay around to shoot it out with the Feds?” I folded my arms, mindful that I had a load of blood on my gloves. I hadn’t even remembered sticking gloves on. Frei would have been impressed.

  “You can’t just shoot a suspect and take away our only witness.” He motioned to the ambulance. “He’s not in great shape.”

  “No, he ain’t but no offense, Detective. My job is to protect. I couldn’t care if you had a commissioner’s badge, I’m keeping her safe. You got a problem, lodge a complaint.” I turned and strode off toward the car,
not having a clue if I’d made most of what I said up. It sounded good to me. The fact the suspect, whoever he was, had a police escort to the hospital said the detective knew more than he was letting on.

  I was glad somebody did. I didn’t have a clue.

  Chapter 21

  FREI HEARD WHEEZING and managed to open her stinging eyes. Jessie was hunched forward. Her strained breaths filled the silence.

  “Take your inhaler.” Frei could hear the rawness in her voice.

  Jessie looked at her, confusion in her eyes. “I don’t understand German.”

  Frei took a long slow breath. She was speaking in German? Jessie had known enough German to hack into her computer on the CIG base. “Inhaler, take your inhaler.”

  Jessie bit her lip and shook her head. Her messy brown hair fell into her face. “I could maybe understand a bit if you write it down?”

  Frei tapped the pocket Jessie always kept her inhaler in. “Inhaler.”

  She sighed. “I’m rationing.”

  “Take it.” She laughed at Jessie’s narrowed eyes. She could understand some things it seemed . . . and she was about as fierce as a puppy. “Bitte.”

  Jessie pulled out her inhaler with a grumble. “I know that one.”

  Frei crept along the corridor. She’d seen Fahrer pull into the drive and her heart had sped up. He made her heart flutter. It was strange. It made her feel awkward. Somehow she felt a need to see him, to be near him, to check if he was back safe or needed stitches.

  She saw Fahrer’s door ajar. He left it that way for her often. She could see it on her route to raid the fridge. Huber wasn’t allowed to know she visited. Megan could never know she was out of her room. It was hard when she spent hours there. It was hard enough keeping it from her sister.

  “Didn’t take you long.” Fahrer’s graveled voice made her stomach wriggle. The thought of him made her hands clammy.

  “You’re late.” She glanced at the door. “Huber had to check his watch.”

  He listed. She hurried to him, helping him out of his rain-soaked jacket. He smiled at her. “He only checked it once?”

  She undid his shirt, seeing the blood ooze through the same wound she’d re-stitched too many times. “You need to let it heal.”

  He laughed his gruff laugh. It made her stomach flutter. “Don’t think a vacation is an option.”

  She pulled out the medical pack and forced him to sit in his chair. A bed, a desk, a chair, and a lamp. They were all he had but his room was a luxury. He was one of Huber’s favorites.

  “Did you get hit?” She touched the heated purpling bruise on his ribs, ignored the tingle it provoked. “Why do you keep getting hurt?”

  “I’m so close.” He stilled her hand. “He needs to make money.”

  She shook her hand free and started on his shoulder. She tried to ignore the gentleness that had been in his voice and the giggly feeling inside.

  “He won’t make any money if you keep damaging this.” She squeezed the sides and puss oozed out. “It needs treatment, proper treatment.”

  “He doesn’t have money to waste on me.” He sucked in a breath as she flushed the wound with saline solution.

  “He’s better than you think he is.” She was unsure when she had started believing that but Huber had warned off a few men who were eyeing her sister.

  “I am loyal to him.” Fahrer grunted as she started stitching. “I just know my place. You should learn yours too.”

  She pulled the stitch, her temper rippled through to her fingers. He winced. “Don’t you ever wonder . . . ever wish . . . ?”

  “I don’t entertain those thoughts.” He sighed and took her hand as she finished the stitches. His gnarled hand made her feel . . . light. “It only hurts if you dream.” His deep, weary eyes met hers. Her heart pounded. “I don’t want you hurt.”

  She bit her lip. “You don’t?”

  He touched her cheek. “You’re a beautiful . . .” His hand fell away and he smiled. “Baby. You’re a beautiful child.”

  “I’m not that much younger than you.” She heard the defiance, the irritation in her voice. She put antiseptic salve on his wound and taped the gauze on. “I think.”

  “Not many in years.” He smiled a sad smile. “But in here.” He tapped his chest. “There’s a huge difference.”

  She stepped back. His defeatist tone irritated her further. “Is there?”

  He took her hands in his. “Take it from me, you don’t get a say in what you want.” He let go, his sigh heavy. “The sooner you learn that, the better.”

  His tone was so full of pain that it rumbled through her. Her heart ached with it. She could see he cared about her. She knew he cared. No, he was wrong. Her anger bubbled up at his . . . at his . . . resignation. She turned from him and stormed out.

  The guard outside Huber’s office caught sight of her.

  She faced him and strode down to the office. “It’s important.”

  The guard looked at the room she’d walked out of and back to her. His eyebrows raised.

  “It is.” She fixed him with her best glare. He nodded, knocked the door, and motioned for her to go in. She stormed in, fighting the tears, fighting the frustration.

  She’d cared about Fahrer; he was meant to be strong. He was meant to be strong for her too. She growled under her breath. Strong? He was as weak as everybody else.

  She stalked past the statues lining the office to Huber’s desk. He sat hunched over.

  She cleared her throat.

  He looked up at her and sat back, an eyebrow raised. “I don’t recall sending for you, girl.”

  “You say I’m good.” She halted in front of the desk. Her gaze on the desktop, careful not to be too pushy. “Fahrer’s a locksmith. He’s hurt.”

  Huber looked past her to the door. “He’s no locksmith and why are you spying on him.”

  She frowned. “He’s not?”

  Huber sighed and entwined his long fingers. “He has a lot of roles but he’s no master thief.” His eyes tracked over her face. “I asked you a question.”

  She fought the wriggle of discomfort. What was she doing in there? “He needs treatment on his shoulder. I saw him lurch when I was on my way to the kitchen.” She glared in the direction of the door; anger at him giving up raged through her. “He was angry that I went in but he was hurt.”

  Huber’s eyes narrowed. “You are not permitted in his or anyone else’s room but your own.”

  She stood her ground. He needed proper help not just her attempt. He needed medication. “If he’s hurt. He’s not going to get you what you want.” She set her jaw. “There’s only one person who can do that.”

  Huber laughed at her. His laughter always jarred her but now it rattled her aching heart until tears threatened to break free. She held them in. He or anyone else would not see her cry. Crying, giving up, knowing your place, they were all things for losers.

  Huber stopped laughing, his eyes serious. “You really think you can liberate such a prize gem, girl?”

  Frei nodded. “Yes. Without unnecessary delays.”

  Huber threw a file at her. He’d been pouring over it. “Study it. I want your thoughts in the morning.” He eyed her for a moment. “A pregnant slave is worthless.”

  Disgust and anger ignited. She couldn’t mask her glare. “You think I’m that pathetic? What good is Fahrer to me anyway?”

  Huber sat back, shock in his eyes. “No, no I don’t.” He motioned to the file. “Study.”

  She nodded and strode out with the file. She wasn’t surprised to find Fahrer watching from his room. His eyes filled with sadness. She scowled at the weakness.

  “Some of us are strong. Some of us will be listened to.” She hardened her eyes further. “I’m not accepting anything.” She stormed past, clutching the file as it bent beneath her grip. He may have given up but she never would.

  She had better things to do than worry about him now. She was protecting him, that was enough. No, she wouldn’t acce
pt it. She’d prove him wrong. She had a gem to liberate.

  Chapter 22

  SOMETIMES IT’S PLEASANT to catch up with folks that once shared your day: reminiscing over small details, Christmases, birthdays, all the things families did. Other people probably loved every second but then they hadn’t shared a house with Iris. The woman hadn’t had a generous bone in her skinny butt. She had been all about ambition and nothing about love. I’d never felt connected to her in any way and she’d never liked me one bit, yet here we were in Renee’s car.

  Part of me wondered if she’d mellowed. If her priorities had switched and showed her that loving felt a lot better than ambition. The other side of me laughed and called me crazy for even thinking it. Iris Lorelei, or whatever her last name was now, was more bitter than Mrs. Stein, well, the Mrs. Stein I knew and that was saying something.

  “You’re meant to be in jail.” Iris’s opening shot was the usual positive happy tone I’d remembered about her. At least somebody was being consistent.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. She still had eighties hair. “If you’d been as good at your job as you are at being sour, you’d have figured out I was innocent.”

  She huffed out a breath as Renee drove us away from the scene. “You’ve never been innocent of anything.”

  “So then, why are you trusting us to get you out of the trouble you made for yourself?” Her face was pale, blood on her hands and up the sleeves of her cashmere or fancy top. Her fashion was stuck with her hair. “Why’d they shoot him, not you?”

  Renee pulled us around a corner, her eyes met mine.

  Where are we going?

  I closed my eyes. Bess. Who was Bess and where was she? I pointed to the map on the dash, smiling at Renee. I didn’t know much, but went with it.

  She nodded at me with a smile.

  Freaky you are, you know that?

  Her words made me chuckle. Yeah, I was kinda, but then she could hear my thoughts in her head so I guessed she was freaky too.

  Iris cleared her throat. “Why would they want to hurt me?”