Muffled Echoes

by G. K. Parks

  “My wife made this,” Lucca said, noticing my stare. “I told her you were out of commission, and she sent food. The least you can do is grab some flatware so we can get this over with.”

  Obediently, I picked up a couple of forks, a knife, and a serving spoon, belatedly wondering why I was following Lucca’s orders. I sat at my table, and he placed a plate in front of me that he found in my far left cabinet. Then he took a seat across from me and scooped out a large portion of something that faintly resembled lasagna and plopped it onto his plate.

  “She’s on this vegetarian kick lately,” Lucca said. He held the spoon in my direction. “But it’s not half bad. I figured you might appreciate a home cooked meal after everything.”

  “Sure,” I stared at him, feeling as if I missed half the conversation. Maybe my condition had deteriorated further, and my short-term memory was worse than before. “Tell her thanks.”

  I searched my mind for his wife’s name, but I didn’t possess the knowledge. Thankfully, he didn’t offer it, and I was glad that he remembered my rule about keeping his private life private. The fact that I knew he had a wife and a young daughter at home caused enough apprehension for me every time we ended up in a dicey situation. I’d lost my last partner, and I swore I’d never lose another. That’s why this new dynamic of considering Lucca to be my partner was so difficult.

  “Parker,” Lucca said, waving his fork in front of my face, “I didn’t just come here to eat dinner with you. You said you wanted to share intel on Shade. Let’s make this a working dinner so I can get home at a decent hour.”

  After briefing him on my suspicions and theories, he made some notes, took the few copied files I had in my possession off my desk, and returned to the table. We ate in silence for a few minutes, but my mind kept drifting back to the questions from earlier.

  “Have you finished the threat assessment?” I asked.

  He nodded, wolfing down the last few bites from his plate. “Jablonsky has my report. He’ll make a decision in the morning concerning your protection detail.”

  “Do you have any leads?”

  “No, as far as we can tell, whatever happened wasn’t planned or orchestrated, and since no other threats or attempts have been made since the initial incident, it was either an accident or a random act of violence. I’ve recommended that the protection detail be reassigned.”

  Taking a breath, I nodded. Frankly, I didn’t like having babysitters, but if I had done this to myself, like Lucca thought, I wanted them outside to stop me from doing something else. “What about identifying the police officer or his confidential informant?”

  He gave me a look. “Are you sure James didn’t mishear what you said?”

  “James?”

  “James Martin, your boyfriend,” Lucca rolled his eyes, “he’s the one that said you were meeting a confidential informant. Is he positive? Because there are no indications that was your intent. You never mentioned it to me. There’s no note or file that tracks. No communications. Nothing.” His expression softened. “Maybe you just told him that because you had other plans.”

  I thought about it, knowing that I hardly ever mentioned what I was doing to Martin. On the rare occasions that I did tell him, there was always a reason. Nine times out of ten, it was because I was nervous. But if I was going somewhere dangerous, why wouldn’t I have told Lucca or Jablonsky? My eyes traveled to the Tupperware on my table, and I knew why I would have excluded Lucca. And of course, there were plenty of reasons not to tell the boss something, specifically in situations where he was likely to stop me from doing whatever I had planned. In that brief moment of clarity, I knew that I expected to run into trouble that night, and apparently, I did.

  “I want to revisit the crime scene,” I declared, pushing away from the table.

  “It’s not a crime scene. We aren’t sure a crime ever took place.”

  “Eddie,” I pleaded, “just take me there. You don’t have to stay. I just want to see what’s nearby. Maybe it’ll jog my memory.”

  “Fine,” he packed up the Tupperware and the files and went to the door, “but if Jablonsky has an issue with this, I’m telling him that you said he gave his approval.”

  “Deal.” I smiled. “I like this bad boy persona. It’s a hell of an improvement on Mr. Rulebook.”

  “Why must you break my balls when I’m doing you a solid?” he asked. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to bite the hand that feeds you?”

  “I don’t bite. Much.”

  * * *

  I stood, staring at the parking garage. It had several levels, two main entrances, and several exits, but it was just a garage. There wasn’t anything special about it. Turning around, I surveyed the area. There weren’t any bars or restaurants nearby. The closest liquor store was a few blocks away. I wouldn’t have come here to drink. Hell, I wouldn’t have come here at all.

  “You’ve seen it. Now can we go?” Lucca asked. He’d been impatient since the moment we arrived.

  “I’m missing something.”

  “Parker, it’s dark out. What the hell do you expect to see?”

  I put my hand up to silence him. Annoyed at the sight of the cast, I let out a growl and brushed the hair out of my face. Choosing a direction at random, I moved down the block, toward the side of the garage. It was unfamiliar, and I hesitated briefly before turning the corner.

  Lucca jogged to catch up. “Alex, stop.”

  “I said you didn’t have to hang around. I’m capable of getting myself home, and in the event something goes wrong, well, at least you’ll know where to look in the morning.”

  “Dammit.”

  He fell into step beside me, silently observing as I marched past the east side of the building and turned again. I came to another cross street at the south side, and for the briefest moment, I felt it. I’d been here before. Halting our procession, I remained motionless, scanning our surroundings in an attempt to recall something tangible. This was a less trafficked street, and as such, there were fewer lights. I remembered tripping over a chain.

  “Where did you find me?” I asked.

  “Near the western exit,” Lucca said.

  Without another word, I sprinted toward the opening, stopping at the heavy metal chain that acted as a barrier to prohibit vehicles from entering and exiting. “I was here.” I pointed at the chain, resisting the urge to touch it. “I flipped myself over it, I think.” It was thigh-high to discourage individuals from ducking underneath it or stepping over it.

  Ducking down, I gritted my teeth, feeling every ache and pain in my body while I slid beneath it. Lucca remained on the other side, watching with something akin to horror as I stood up and surveyed the interior of the dark garage. A flash of the cement floor entered my mind, and I remembered scrambling across the floor, hearing my shoes squeak and my feet slide. I teetered slightly, and Lucca slipped under the chain to join me.

  “Easy,” he said, grabbing my good elbow to steady me. “What do you remember?”

  “Scrambling to get out.”

  “If you wanted out, why did you enter?”

  “I don’t know.” It wasn’t making sense. Lucca released my arm, and I took a few steps forward. “I found my way out.” Continuing on the path I had probably taken a few nights ago, I moved through the garage, noticing a scattering of cars that became more abundant the closer we came to the actual entrance. Instead of continuing that way, I detoured to a small side exit that was next to the elevator and stopped. “The phone.”

  On the wall was an emergency phone. The city had installed several, along with cameras, to make neighborhoods safer. The glowing blue light near the phone was an easy indicator, but the phone itself was useless. The cord had been cut, and the glass surrounding the CCTV camera was covered in graffiti.

  “Not surprising,” Lucca said, but I continued to stare at it. “Why would you have needed a phone? You had your phone on you. I called you that morning. It’s how we found you.”

  “Did w
e dust it for prints?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Make the call.”

  “Parker,” he took a moment to regain his patience, “we know you were here. There must be dozens of prints on that thing. What do you hope to find?” Silently, I continued to stare at him until he removed his phone and asked that our techs make a trip to reexamine part of a potential crime scene. “Happy?”

  “Not particularly.” Continuing out the exit, I stopped so abruptly, Lucca walked into my back. “Shit,” I cursed, “first the damn pole, now you. I thought I’d be safe without inanimate objects around. Apparently, I was wrong.”

  “Sorry.” He took a step to the side. “What are you looking at?”

  “Police lights.”

  “So?” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s a precinct a few blocks away. Police cars must come and go at all hours.”

  I watched the police car pull out of the rear lot and onto the street. It didn’t mean anything, but in my mind, it was a beacon. Shaking off the wayward thought, unable to articulate any of this without sounding like a raving lunatic, I asked Lucca to show me where I was found.

  Leading the way, we moved farther from the garage exit, and within a few steps, I tripped over the curb, barely righting myself before I went down for the count. Lucca shook his head, removing his keychain that contained a small flashlight. He flipped it on and pointed at a spot a few yards away.

  “That’s where you were,” he declared. “Are we done?”

  I walked a few more steps and studied my surroundings. The western side of the lot had limited street access. It was fairly isolated since it was located at the rear of most of the neighboring buildings. It made sense why no one found me. I would have been obstructed by view due to the curb and the retaining wall. At least I’d chosen an out of the way place to pass out. Thankfully, no one found me. That thought reverberated in my skull, and my pulse raced.

  “Yeah, we’re done,” I said, wanting to get as far away from here as possible. It wasn’t rational, but I wanted to be back home with the lights on, cozy and safe.

  “Great,” he said sarcastically, “this was exactly what I meant when I said I wanted to get home at a decent hour.”

  “Lucca,” I began.

  “What?” he snapped. “What do you want now?”

  “Thanks.”

  He looked momentarily ashamed, and then he nodded, leading the way around the building and back to where he parked in front of the lot. Once we were on our way back to my apartment, I felt better. The slight panic I felt when we exited the parking garage had abated, and I now had some idea of where to look for answers. Bringing up the search engine on my phone, I keyed in the address, zooming out until I found the nearest police precinct. It wasn’t my normal stomping grounds, but it was the closest to the garage. And something told me that it had been the destination I had in mind.

  “You tripped,” Lucca said. “Do you think that you took a spill and knocked yourself out?”

  “Wow, you give me a lot of credit.”

  “C’mon, Parker, I’m being serious. You were injured. You weren’t thinking clearly. Maybe you were trying to get help and didn’t quite make it.”

  “It’s possible.” I turned to face him. “Did the techs actually agree to print the phone?”

  “Yeah, I left a message for Davenport. She’ll get it in the morning.” He glanced at me. “You remembered the south side of the garage. It’ll make it easier to pinpoint where you were based on the direction you were traveling. I’m sure Jablonsky will send some agents to scout the area. It might not be a bad idea if you joined them.”

  I smiled. “You’re starting to believe me.”

  “I always believed you,” he shrugged, “but I’m open to the possibility that it could be an accident since you don’t even know what happened.” His eyes briefly shot to mine. “It appears that it’s starting to come back. I bet you’re relieved.”

  “I will be once everything is back to normal.”

  He laughed. “You’ve never been normal.”

  Nine

  The commotion at my front door woke me, and I dragged myself out of bed. Five a.m. What the hell was going on now? Holding the gun in my left, I made it as far as my bedroom door before I recognized the voices coming from the hallway.

  “Agent Davis, stand down,” I ordered, holding my front door open. “He’s not a threat.”

  “Ma’am,” Davis said, not taking his eyes off Martin, “I’m not authorized to allow anyone entry into the apartment.”

  “We live together,” I said, too tired to stand in the doorway and argue. “Call Jablonsky, wake his ass up, and ask for verification.” I gave Martin a weak smile. Then I turned around and went back to the bedroom. “Idiots,” I mumbled, annoyed by the intrusion.

  Five minutes later, my front door closed, and Martin stepped into my bedroom. “Sorry to wake you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He took off his jacket and tie and then searched my drawers until he found a t-shirt in his size. “Mark called earlier to tell me what happened today.”

  “Fink,” I muttered, trying to force my eyes to stay open. “You weren’t supposed to come back here.”

  “I missed my t-shirt,” Martin said, changing out of his suit.

  “That’s mine.”

  “It used to be mine, but I let you keep it because I like the way it looks on you,” he said, giving me a quick kiss. “I also like the way it looks off of you.”

  “You need to find some new material.”

  He climbed under the covers. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.” Putting my head on his chest, I closed my eyes.

  The next thing I knew, someone was banging against my bedroom door. Jumping up, I automatically reached for my weapon, but Martin put his hand on my arm. He brushed the hair out of my face and kissed me.

  “Parker, it’s time to rise and shine,” Jablonsky bellowed from the other side of the door.

  “He texted a half hour ago,” Martin said, “but I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” Rubbing his eyes, he sighed deeply. “I guess this is my cue to leave.”

  “Parker,” Jablonsky called, “I’m coming in. You better be decent.” My bedroom door opened a crack, and he stepped into my room with one hand over his eyes. “The two of you better not be canoodling.”

  “How old are you?” I snapped, irritated by the rude wake-up.

  Mark slowly removed his hand from his eyes, nodding briefly at Martin. “Get dressed, Parker. I want you on-site today. Lucca said you dragged him to the garage last night, and you remembered something. I want to see what else you might remember.” Mark’s eyes remained fixed on the back wall of my bedroom. “I’ll be waiting in the living room.”

  “It feels like your dad just walked in on us making out,” Martin joked, getting out of bed. “So you remembered something. That’s good, right?”

  “It wasn’t much.” Sighing, I went to the closet to find something to change into. “I have the vaguest memory of being inside a garage. It was the closest structure to where I was found, so it’s not that impressive.”

  “It’s something,” Martin insisted. After shedding the oversized t-shirt, I felt his hands on my back. “Alex, my god, the bruises weren’t this bad yesterday.” His fingers brushed against my sensitive skin, and I cringed. “I think you should get these looked at.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “I’m fine. I backed into the car door and then a pole. It’s nothing.” I looked down at the bandage covering my ribs. “See, I’m not bleeding. That’s a huge improvement since yesterday.” I turned around to face him. “However, you look like shit. You need to go home and get some sleep. A shave and a shower wouldn’t hurt either.”

  “I thought you liked a little scruff.”

  “Go home.”

  “Will you meet me there?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Do more than tha
t.” He finished dressing, but the concerned look didn’t leave his face. “I want to know you’re okay.”

  “I am. Plus, I’ll be with Mark. He won’t let anything happen to me.”

  “He better not.” Martin led the way out of my bedroom. “Jabber,” he said, acknowledging Mark, “thanks.”

  “Sure,” Jablonsky said. Once Martin left, he focused his attention on me. “Didn’t I tell you to stay home and rest?”

  “I was until you woke me up.” Giving him an annoyed look, I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Finding nothing more than a leftover sandwich, I shut the door. The coffeepot didn’t hold any appeal, and I wondered if the conk on the head had altered my personality. “So you get to buy breakfast.”

  “Fine.”

  After a short car ride, we arrived at a diner. I was halfway through my egg white omelet before I asked, “Did the techs find any fingerprints on the emergency phone?”

  “Tons,” Jablonsky said, “just not yours. And none that link to any of the names that Lucca had investigated. Someone did this, but without a motive or a threat, we’re flying blind.”

  “Are you pulling the detail?”

  Mark shrugged. “I want you to walk me through whatever you remember. Hopefully, it’ll jog something. We’ll take it from there.” He assessed me for a few moments. “Alex, what do you think happened?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you’re afraid.”

  It wasn’t a question, so I diverted my attention to the rest of my breakfast. When we were finished, Mark paid the check and drove to the garage. He parked inside, and we stepped out of the vehicle. He scanned the area, but there wasn’t much to see.

  “Let’s start where you were found and work backward, okay?” Mark asked.

  We moved outside the garage to the place Lucca had pointed out the previous night. “Take note of the nearby precinct,” I said, pointing in the direction I’d seen the police lights the night before. “Have we made any progress identifying the CI or his handler?”