Fragmentary

by LeAnn Mason

  “Not when you consider the damage.”

  He pulled back a bit at the reminder of this struggle and nodded solemnly. “That is true. Well, I knew I couldn’t give up. For my family, my shop. For me. I needed to get back to it, to them. I can’t believe your pony did that to you.” He’d asked, right as I’d come through the doors this morning, about the crutches. It was pretty hard to hide them or act like it wasn’t a big deal. I mean I couldn’t walk on my own right now. Rolph pointed to my empty cup. “Need a refill, sweetie?”

  I glanced at my com. 11:24. “No thank you. I think Holden will be in shortly, and we’ll grab some lunch. I think I’ll definitely need a steady stream as the day goes on though; keeps the headache down.” I rubbed my temples. My head hurt but didn’t throb as was usual when I listened for a lengthy period of time. Apparently caffeine actually helped to deter migraines. Now that I had that little life hack, I had yet another excuse to fill up on Rolph’s fabulous chai lattes.

  I pulled out my phone while Rolph moseyed back behind his serving bar. I needed to find out if I could get some kind of boot, like ASAP. Not only were crutches cumbersome and unwieldy, they drew a lot of attention. I was supposed to be inconspicuous, not hobbling around and making a general racket every time I got up or went to the bathroom. People always noticed what was different. Thought about it. Dwelled on it. I’d learned that being on crutches definitely drew the eye. Not that a walking boot wouldn’t, but it definitely stuck out less.

  I’d kill for that right about now.

  Dad picked up on the second ring, meaning I’d picked the right time to contact him. I figured it would be approaching his scheduled break, assuming he’d had no impending emergencies.

  “Hey baby girl, how’s the foot?”

  I smiled. “Hey Dad. I really need an alternative to these crutches if possible. I think my sensitivity is down. It’s not making me want to cry every time I bump it, so there’s that. These stupid crutches are a total hindrance though.”

  He chuckled at my annoyed tone and lack of preamble and pleasantries. “Well, I’m sure we could get you fit with a walking boot if your foot is ready for it. I’ll take a look tonight when we come over.”

  “Why are you coming over?” I questioned, wracking my brain for the answer, which I came up with at the same he said, “It’s Friday.”

  Right. Fridays had become Dae family night at the farmhouse. My parents both came over, and we all cooked dinner for the team. I actually really liked our time together. Mom and I were even getting along. It seemed that our separation was good for our mother/daughter dynamic. Mom could breathe a bit easier when she wasn’t worried about constantly monitoring her thoughts because they would be overheard. Turns out she even missed me. Had me all teary eyed when I overheard that. “Right. I totally forgot.”

  “So, I’ll bring a couple different braces for you. We’ll test your foot, see how you’re healing, and go from there.”

  “Awesome. I frickin’ hate these things,” I mumbled.

  Dad just chuckled. “Yeah, they’re a bit… difficult to maneuver.”

  “Did you remember that my room was on the second floor?” I lifted my eyebrows in offence. That didn’t convey well over the phone, so I forced them into repose. “Holden carried me all over the place the last two nights. I had to sleep on the couch just so that I wasn’t so helpless.”

  “Just remember that you’re only down for a few days when most would be hindered for several weeks.”

  The reminder brought me up short, a cold consideration that while I thought this was horrid, it should be ten times worse. “Yeah, that’s true.” I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. This was part of the deal. I knew I was likely to get hurt at some point when I chose this path and not to deny my Primal side anymore. I was hybrid and proud. Now I needed to suck it up and act like it. Enforcers couldn’t whine about injury. It was, however, perfectly acceptable to whine about not being able to do the job.

  I looked to the door of the coffee shop as it pulled open, releasing some of the heavenly caffeine laden air and in turn admitting one gorgeous dark-haired Primal.

  Holden’s eyes scanned the interior until they landed on me, in the far corner booth against the picture window, leg extended on the bench and death traps laid against the back of the seat behind me. Still within reach, but out of the way. I said a quick goodbye to my father and pocketed the phone so I'd have free and able hands.

  Hey beautiful, you hungry?

  “Yep,” I grabbed at the crutches and worked on wiggling my way out of the seat to where I could stand then hopped until they were situated under my arms. Holden, having correctly read my determination, did not offer assistance. Maybe he’s learning. Finally standing, I asked where we were going.

  Holden didn’t want me to have to go far, so he suggested the diner just a few buildings away. I didn’t want to be on the crutches any longer than necessary either, so I agreed, and we started off.

  Once seated in the cozy little diner with its dated vinyl appeal, Holden asked about the success of my morning.

  “The caffeine helps to keep the migraine at bay, does that count as success?”

  He couldn’t keep the humoring smile from his face. I’ll take it as a win. You are much more agreeable when your head isn’t being pierced by daggers.

  “Quite true. See? You’re learning.” I felt a dimple surface as I returned his mirth just as two glasses of water appeared on the table before us, the waitress already there and gone again. “She’s a stealthy thing,” I remarked, inclining my head in the direction of the dark haired woman who was our server. I was trying my best to shield myself at the moment or at least when people approached. It was easier to do it for a short stint and one was much easier than shutting out everyone.

  She is, he nodded. I don’t think she’s much of a people person.

  I snorted, totally ladylike, as I attempted to keep the water I’d just gulped in my mouth.“What is she doing as a waitress then?” That just seemed odd.

  Holden just shrugged, obviously not having an answer for me either. He didn't seem bothered by it in the least. It didn’t matter, wasn't like I knew the woman. I had no cause to dig.

  The woman in question returned a few minutes later to take our orders then quickly escaped the table again. “She doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, I don’t think she looked away from her pad.” I was fascinated, Holden just chuckled again.

  Do you like puzzles? I feel like you’d like the idea of them… but that you’d get annoyed if you couldn’t find the right piece.

  Should I be offended by this assessment? I felt like I should, but I couldn’t. It was pretty accurate. I just shrugged and played with my straw in avoidance.

  Our food arrived a few minutes of idle chat later. We’d both decided on a club sandwich and fries, and I had to admit they looked and smelled fantastic. Chatter was at a minimum while we ate, the food enough to distract us for a moment.

  A wave-like tone sounded from Holden’s pocket, making him reluctantly put down his sandwich. Tugging out the device, he answered with a tongue click. Months of watching Holden had me able to interpret many of his sounds of communication. One click meant “yes”. Apparently, that was his standard com greeting.

  Commander James’ agitated voice came from the small device, “We’ve had an incident, I need you out at the Jenks compound. See what you can figure out. There’s a large crowd at the moment.”

  Holden nodded his head and clicked again.

  “Wait, what about me?”

  “Nathalee, is that you?” the commander asked.

  “Yes, Sir. Holden and I are having lunch.”

  Commander James made a thoughtful noise, “If they detain anyone, we could use you, but with your infirmity, we need to keep you off the street.”

  The conversation was starting to garner attention from others in the diner. Holden realized this as well and ended the call with his uncle after I relayed that Holden would drop me at the
CP and continue out to the Jenks place. I hated the idea of being left behind but understood the practicality of it. I would only be a hindrance and far too focused on myself to be able to be effective in determining if someone should be questioned further. I guess I was stuck staying behind as support on this one.

  That stung.

  CHAPTER 8

  HOLDEN HELD OPEN THE heavy door to the Command Post as I muddled through then squeezed past me so he could do so again at the end of the bright hall. I heard the buzz of minds on the other side but nothing too distinct, a product of the cement walls and steel doors of our base of operations. If I needed peace and quiet while “at work,” I could always come out into this hallway.

  It wasn’t my first choice of sanctuary though. Too bright, too sterile to be of much comfort. Still, it was an option if I needed a breather. I had a feeling today may be such a day. My hand drifted to my shorts pocket, and I relaxed as I felt the telltale lumps of my music player and headphones. I had an escape route should I need it. That knowledge was enough to make me brave the impending whirlwind I just knew we’d be stepping into.

  From the moment we crossed into the CP proper, we were engulfed in a maelstrom of activity. Trent was pounding away at the keyboard of his multi-monitor computer, his attention volleying from screen to screen, each of which displayed something different; pictures, stats, surveillance.

  Commander James was standing over the conference table, reports strewn about in front of him. He was on the com with Devlin it sounded like. He looked up as we entered the room. “Holden, I need you to head out. I need eyes on the area.”

  With a curt nod, Holden complied, giving me a quick kiss before turning on his heel and heading back the way from which we had come. See ya later, Nat.

  I was sure I heard him say “behave” before he slipped out the steel door, back into the sterile hallway of escape, but that couldn’t be right because the man knew I always behaved.

  I snorted. Okay, so maybe he knew I might get super antsy being stuck in here and not knowing what the others were doing. Not being there to make sure, with my own eyes, that everything was good-to-go.

  I plopped heavily into a seat, leaning the crutches against the table, and proceeded to twiddle my thumbs until the buzz died down a little. Plus, I didn’t really need to ask what was going on. I could just pluck it from their yelling minds. So, what could I learn?

  A body had been found. Apparently in the bloat and burst stage of decay, it had stunk and garnered the attention of flies, drawing attention from the caller. There, they'd noticed the disturbed soil of a makeshift grave.

  Well, that just sounded… yummy. Maybe I should be glad I was left behind on this one.

  Based on the information given, Commander James believed the body to be that of Sasha Jenks, a forty year old Primal woman who had apparently not been seen in several days. I guess now we knew why.

  Trent was working through what we could use to help us identify possible suspects. We needed a starting point. Hopefully, Holden or the investigative team – being Devlin, Jade and Dane, with Holden on surveillance and Steve taking forensic pics – could give us one such point. I hated sitting here. Getting all the information secondhand was grating. My palms itched, a physical manifestation of my annoyance at sitting idly by while the team searched for answers. Incidentally, it also gave me a taste of what Holden most likely went through when we weren’t together on the job. I had to admit that some of my anxiousness was for the unknown of his well-being.

  I could admit that I understood why he worried. I just couldn’t take the caveman attitude about it. I needed to distract myself with usefulness. “Commander? How can I help?” It probably would have been a more effective inquiry if I actually got out of the chair I was warming, but it was too much work, especially if he was just going to tell me to sit back down. Which he would.

  “We’ve gotten the team deployed to the scene. Holden is staying to the outskirts, but Devlin and Jade are questioning the sister who called it in. Dane is working on tracking, seeing if he can pull any scents. It may be worthless at this point. We’ve had some heavy storms the last few days. I’m not sure our physical evidence will be strong.” The commander absently pulled his hand through his closely cropped, dark hair, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared intently at the paper-riddled conference table.

  I was so immersed in watching him, listening to his internal discussion of what avenues to explore this death, that I about jumped out of my skin at the shrill sound escaping his pants pocket and again a moment later. Each ring of the phone hunched Commander James’ shoulders tighter, both hands now flat on the table and head bowed in defeat.

  Finally, on the fifth ring of that shrieking tone, Commander James folded, reaching into his pocket to pull out the phone.

  “Yes?” I could read that it was Councilman Allen Davidson, the douche of a leader for Minefield. I still had no idea how he got put in charge. The man cared for nothing but his own agenda, his own advancement. Maybe that was why the ninnies had picked him though. He had no loyalty to us Enhanced, he could easily be “bought.”

  Oh yeah, and he was Steve’s dad.

  Commander James sat carefully into a plush conference chair as the councilman prattled on, talking about how he needed to be kept in the loop on the investigation. That “murder would not be tolerated even if it was only a Primal.”

  I wasn’t sure we knew it was a murder case yet. I mean yeah, she was found in a shallow grave near her family home, apparently, but that could have been a move born of panic. We had no idea what had happened. Not yet. The commander relayed as much, not that the councilman listened. He only had ears for his own words.

  As Commander James returned the phone to his pocket, all pretense of obedience fulfilled, he withdrew an object from another, hidden, pocket in his tactical pants. Staring at it, he ran his thumb over the shiny surface. At first glance, I thought it was just a large coin though I had no idea as to why he’d pull out a random coin just now.

  I needed to stop being a creeper, just staring at my boss as he took a moment to ruminate over something; the dead body and what it meant. For the team, for Minefield, for all Enhanced. He was putting a lot on the back of this case.

  “What’s that there?” I jerked my chin in the direction of his object, hoping he’d get my drift.

  He looked down and flipped the disc through his fingers. “This is a challenge coin,” he said thoughtfully as he brought his other hand to rub it as well, still staring.

  “What’s a challenge coin?” He’d said it so matter-of-factly like it was something I should know about. I had no clue, and I’m sure it showed on my face. That thought was confirmed when the commander finally pulled his gaze from the coin to focus on me. I'd come to notice that his thoughts were usually pretty visual. Odds were, if he was looking at me, at some point, I would know what image I presented at that specific point. His thoughts would flash to my face at least once in the conversation.

  “Challenge coins are made for different organizations, like to prove membership. At least initially.” He looked to the coin again. “They seem to be primarily used by military and law enforcement on the outside, either by members of the group on the coin…” He held up the metal disk for display. “Or given by such members to those they respect, like other agencies or factions. It’s like a collector’s item showing merit.”

  “That sounds cool,” I bobbed thoughtfully. And it totally did. “So where’d you get that one?”

  “I got this from the base commander many years ago for a case they needed some extra help with. It’s been kind of a talisman ever since. I always keep it on me.” He handed it to me, sensing my curiosity. It was good to take a moment not to dwell on the impending dead body investigation and what it might mean. Soon enough it would probably consume our thoughts. Best to take distraction while we could.

  “The ninnies gave you something? As a sign of respect?” My voice cracked on respect. That thought to
tally baffled me as I looked over the face of the coin. It really was remarkably detailed, the bronze emblazoned with a likeness of the Earth, an eagle perched on top. The name of the accompanying branch was written along the perimeter, the background a deep red. “This is really cool.” I handed it back gingerly.

  He nodded as he took it and put it back to its apparent home, zipping the pocket.

  “You should make one for us.” The words escaped my mouth before I even knew they were there. Man, I really need to work on my filter. The thought had never occurred to him. “I would love something that was strictly ours. I bet the rest of the team would as well. Make us seem more legit. More like a team apart, ya know? Maybe one day, someone else may even want one.”

  “You want a challenge coin?”

  I nodded. Was this a weird request? He acted like the thought had never crossed his mind. “So, do we have an emblem? An insignia? Something uniquely ours?”

  “We’ve taken to calling the team the Enhanced Enforcement Agency, EEA for short.”

  “I’ve heard Devlin mention that once or twice lately.”

  “They don’t like to tell us much, so I have no idea if the other teams are operating under the same name. If they even have a name.”

  “So how did you ever make it out to “help them with a case” as you put it?” I asked. I’d not known he’d left Minefield, let alone been recognized as an asset by the ninnies. I didn’t see them appreciating anything we did, and it didn’t seem to be something the commander thought about when I was around. Was that deliberate?

  He just shrugged and pushed to standing, his chair rolling quietly across the floor. “They needed my specific skills though they’d never admit they needed Enhanced.”

  “So ... what is your Enhancement?” I threw it out as casually as I could manage though I'm sure my curiosity peeked through the tone. I was like a child asking Santa for a present. I mentally slapped myself and tried to clear the hopelessly infatuated look from my face.