by Margaret Kay
“I wrote a letter to my brother, Bobby, and wanted to mail it. I can take the bus to the post office, no worries.”
Doc tamped down what his natural reaction was and kept his facial expression neutral. “I can take it to the office and mail it for you. It’s cold out this morning and I know you want to work on your assignments for class. I’m proud of you, honey, enrolling for both classes you need. Online classes have to be harder, but I know you’ll crush them.”
“Thank you.” She handed the addressed envelope over to him and gave him a hug. “I do need to spend most of the day on my assignments. Not having to go out helps a lot.”
The address to the condo was in the upper left corner. Oh, hell no! “You’re welcome. I’ll take care of it for you.”
Once in the subbasement parking level at HQ, Doc tore the envelope open and read the letter.
Hi Bobby,
I am in Chicago and will be staying here. It worked out better than I hoped. Alexander, the baby’s father, accepted responsibility and has made our marriage legal. He’s a good man. Please do not harbor angry feelings towards him. As I told you when we last spoke, I am thrilled that God has blessed me with this life inside me. I love this child and regardless if its father would have been in our lives or not, would not change that.
Life will be easier for both me and this child now that its father will be in our lives. You, more than anyone, know how much that decides a child’s life and future. I have to believe that if either of our fathers had been in our lives, life would have been very different for us both. I understand Mom more than ever now that I found myself in a similar situation. I hope you can forgive her at some point in time, for yourself. Bobby, she did the best she could. I believe that in my heart. I know you do not like it when I get religious or philosophical with you, so I won’t say more, but you know how I feel about the path your life took. I pray for you every day, Bobby. I hate that you are in that awful place and I hate even more what you have had to do and what you continue to do to survive. I pray for those you hurt too. All I will say is that God loves you and there is hope for a better future if you open your heart.
Below is my new phone number for you to reach me when you have phone privileges. We won’t have to coordinate times. I have a cell phone now, so that number will reach me anytime. Alexander is very kind and generous. He owns his own home. It is comfortable and safe. He has welcomed me into it with nothing asked of me in return. The address is below as well. I’m giving you this address to write to me only. Please do not reach out to him. He did not take advantage of me as you assumed. There is so much about him I’d like to tell you, perhaps in the next letter. What I will tell you is he has honor and pride. He serves his country, helps those who need help, putting himself in danger in the process. I don’t know when I might get back there to visit, so I guess it is back to writing letters like when I was in Africa.
I am always here for you,
All my love,
Elizabeth
Doc returned the letter to its envelope. He tapped out a message to Shepherd on his phone requesting a meeting as early that morning as Shepherd was available, said he needed a favor. He gave him no other details. He was just very thankful Elizabeth had not written and mailed that letter while he’d been away on the mission.
An invitation to a meeting in Shepherd’s office a half hour later came before Doc even made it to the stairwell. He took the stairs to his office and killed the time, rereading the letter a few more times. Yeah, he was very thankful she had not mailed it without him seeing it. He brought up the information on her brother that Garcia had dug up when Elizabeth first appeared and announced her pregnancy. He reread that too.
Doc approached Shepherd’s office. The door was open. Cooper was within, seated at the conference table beside Shepherd. Shepherd motioned him in when they locked eyes. So, Shepherd invited Cooper. Doc wondered if Lassiter would arrive as well. He knew he was still on their radar as a concern.
Doc closed the door behind himself. He sat on the opposite side of the table. The informal seating area would have been his preference for this conversation.
“I need a day off and a favor,” Doc said, his eyes fixed on Shepherd.
He could see the irritation in Shepherd’s features. He’d taken a lot of time off since the mission to Africa and he’d asked Shepherd for a lot of favors. He wasn’t sure how much more goodwill he had left with his boss.
“Tell me,” Shepherd prompted.
“Elizabeth’s brother is in the state pen in Washington. She wrote him a letter, wanted a stamp this morning.”
Shepherd and Cooper exchanged glances.
“Elizabeth understands what we do is classified, knows she can’t say too much about me, knows it could put her in danger. But with her brother, there is a whole other layer of issues to address. She handled it as well as she knew to in her letter. I need to meet him. But I don’t want her to know I’m going out there. I want to fly out early tomorrow morning and then be home after work. And I want to enter the facility with my federal credentials as a law visit.”
“Anything else?” Shepherd asked.
“Elizabeth gave her phone number to her brother in the letter. He can’t have it. I could get her a burner phone strictly for calls with him.”
“Or we could set up a second decoy number on her phone like on the Operators phones,” Shepherd completed where he thought Doc was going with his previous sentence.
“I don’t know what to do about him Shep, and I don’t think I will unless I meet him.”
“Do you have that letter on you?” Cooper asked.
Doc nodded and pulled it from his pocket. He scooted it across the table, so it was between Cooper and Shepherd.
Shepherd opened it. His eyes focused on the paper and he took the time to read both sides. Then he handed it to Cooper. He too read the entire letter.
Doc sat quietly and patiently as both men read it.
When Cooper finished reading it, he sat the letter onto the table between himself and Shepherd.
“She obviously loves her brother. From what Garcia dug up on him, I have to wonder if she really understands how bad of a dude he is,” Cooper said.
Doc shrugged. Yes, he’d had the same thought. “She has this big, forgiving heart. That’s why I need to meet him for myself.”
“Were you planning on letting that letter go to him in its current state? Or will you have the two sections redacted?” Shepherd asked.
Doc sighed. “It has to be redacted or rewritten.”
It was as though Shepherd could read his mind. “But you’re not sure if you should be the one to have that conversation with her or not. Or maybe not even how to go about it.”
“I need to meet him first. Then I’ll have that conversation with her. If he’s as bad as I think, she cannot have too much contact with him, and he surely cannot know where we live or know anything at all about our lives. But I don’t want her to know I’m going to see him. Can you help me arrange the trip for tomorrow and give me the day off?”
Shepherd nodded. “Angel will make your travel arrangements and I will make the call to DC to arrange your visit.”
“Thanks, Shep,” Doc said.
Cooper handed the letter back across the table. “Handle this.”
Doc nodded.
Doc drove onto the penitentiary grounds. The foothills rose behind the guard towers and barbed wire. He’d flown out of O’Hare early, changed planes in Seattle, and arrived at the Walla Walla Regional Airport at thirteen-hundred, local time. He picked up the rental car and drove it to the prison. Thank you, Angel for the travel arrangements.
He badged his way in with his FBI credentials. Doc entered the room where Elizabeth’s brother sat in the beige pants and white t-shirt, the standard prisoner uniform. Robert ‘Bobby’ Shaw sat facing the door, staring at him with a cop-hating air. His rap sheet was extensive. He had many years to build up his opinion of law enforcement.
Bobby Sha
w had long, straggly hair, the same color as Elizabeth’s, and he had the same vibrant blue eyes. That was where the physical similarities ended. His complexion was darker, his face pock marked from what had to have been a horrible case of acne in his youth. His nose was large and misshapen, probably from more than a few broken noses over the years that hadn’t been fixed properly. His lips too showed signs of previous injuries that hadn’t healed well. And he had taken advantage of the weights in the exercise yard. His muscles were well developed.
He had gang tats on his neck. On the left, was the shield with the letters A and B with a dagger running through it. On the right, were large script letters, ACAB. Doc had to wonder if Elizabeth knew the meaning of his tattoos. The prison file on him indicated an affiliation with the Aryan Brotherhood. On his chest were the swastika and SS tats all the gang members wore.
All Bobby Shaw had been told was that a member of federal law enforcement was visiting him. Why? He didn’t know. Nor did he care. He hated cops, all cops, and had nothing to share with them, no matter what they were looking for.
Doc had a file folder in his hand with nothing inside but a pad of paper with no writing on it. It was for show. He sat it onto the table and then took a seat. “Robert Shaw?”
“You know I am. They have me in this fucking room, don’t they asshole?”
Doc’s lips twisted into a smirk. Pleasant guy. He wondered if he talked to Elizabeth that way. “I’ve come to talk with you about your sister, Elizabeth.”
Robert Shaw tensed. Doc saw worry momentarily wash over his face. Then he hid it. “What’s up with Elizabeth?” He threw out casually.
“The last she visited you was nearly a month ago,” Doc said. “What were her plans following that visit? And what did she discuss with you at that time?”
“Didn’t Elizabeth tell the penguins that she was going out of town? Is that what this is about? She’s not one of them no more, what she does ain’t their business. Did someone from the convent report her missing? She’s not. She went to Chicago.”
Doc’s jaw set in frustration. “Did you know from your last visit she planned to travel to Chicago?”
“Yeah, she told me she was going to go hunt down the fucking scumbag who knocked her up.”
Doc’s gut twisted at that categorization of himself. He knew that would not have been the way Elizabeth presented it. “And he lives in Chicago?”
“She was pretty sure he did. Look, I’m not telling you no more, until you tell me who the hell you are and why the fuck you’re asking about Elizabeth. Is she okay?”
“Yes, Elizabeth is okay. What can you tell me about the man she went to find?”
“Ask her yourself if she’s okay,” Shaw spat.
“I’m asking you.”
“He’s some kind of jarhead, a GI Joe, or something like that.”
“What else did she tell you about him?”
Robert Shaw sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes stared daggers through Doc. Doc noticed how cold his eyes were. They may have been the same color as Elizabeth’s, but this man’s dark soul reflected from the icy depths.
“What did she tell you about this man?”
Robert Shaw rested his elbows on the table and leaned over it. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you asking?”
Doc pulled his FBI badge from his pocket. “I’m an FBI Agent.” He didn’t give his name on purpose. He was pretty sure Elizabeth would have told her brother his name during her visit.
“And why are you asking about Elizabeth?”
“I need to know what she told you about the man, where did she meet him, and if the sex was consensual.”
Robert Shaw looked confused. “Are you telling me Elizabeth lied to me and she was raped or something? I’ll kill the bastard!”
“No, that’s not what I’m telling you. But you’re going out of your way not to tell me anything. I’m trying to help your sister. Why aren’t you?”
“Maybe if you tell me why she needs help. You’ve given me nothing, man, and I sure as hell don’t trust you or any other cop.”
“That’s right. All cops are bastards,” Doc said, pointing to the tat on the right side of Bobby Shaw’s neck. “Well I’m not.” Doc was thoughtful for a moment. “Elizabeth is special, trusting, and kind. I have a great deal of respect for your sister. She’s been through a lot and I want to be sure she doesn’t get hurt by anyone, even her brother.”
“I’d never do anything to hurt my sister. I’ve spent my life protecting her. How do you think she made it, growing up in the neighborhood we lived in? No one got up on her. I made sure of it.”
“Is she aware of your lengthy criminal history?”
“Yeah, Elizabeth knows all my crimes. She forgives me and prays for my soul.” He paused and laughed. “She’s one of the good ones. Now who the hell are you and why are you asking about her?”
“Did Elizabeth tell you about her last few days in Africa?”
“Yeah,” he ran his hand through his disgusting hair and shook it back from his face. “She almost died there, fucking penguins put her in a hell hole. She deserves better than that.”
Doc nodded. He agreed. “Elizabeth’s in a good place now. You need to leave her alone.”
“Wait, you’re the guy, aren’t you?”
Doc made his decision in that moment. He nodded yes once. “Yes, I’m her husband.”
In one fluid movement, Bobby Shaw stood and dove over the table. “You fucking sonofabitch!”
Doc deflected him and helped his face meet the floor faster than his body had been en route to. Then he planted his knee firmly in the small of the man’s back. His hand gripped Bobby Shaw’s neck, all his weight, holding him to the floor. Even though Doc had him completely immobilized, he struggled.
“Fucking stop,” Doc commanded, pressing down more firmly to make his point.
Just then, the room door flew open and two guards rushed in.
“It’s okay,” Doc told them. “This was just a misunderstanding.”
The guards helped Doc pull Shaw to his feet and re-sit him in his chair. Then Doc retook his seat as well and stared at him across the table. They stared at each other for a few minutes. Doc’s eyes scanned the gang tats on his neck. He couldn’t figure out how different the siblings were. Elizabeth embodied love and forgiveness. Bobby Shaw was a picture of hate and lawlessness.
“At least you married her,” Shaw finally said. “You better treat her right.” It was said as a threat.
The corner of Doc’s lip ticked up. “I’ll treat her like a queen. Her happiness and health are all I care about.”
“If you ever knock her around and I know about it, I’ll find a way to end you.”
“I’ll never lay a hand on her. You have my word.”
“Why are you here?” Bobby Shaw demanded.
“I needed to meet you. Elizabeth wrote you a letter.” He pulled it from his pocket and passed it across the table.
Shaw opened it. Several sections were blacked out. He examined it. He couldn’t make out what was beneath. He read the letter, a small smile curving his lips. “She sounds happy and believes she’s safe with you.”
Doc nodded. “She is. Probably safer than she ever has been in her life.”
“After our mom died, the nuns took Elizabeth and promised they’d keep her safe. The streets took me.”
Doc knew Bobby Shaw had an extensive juvenile record before his mother died. He doubted the streets took him; he had surrendered to them years before.
“But the nuns sent her to that place. She wrote me and told me about the bad situation the people there lived in, diseases, not enough food, war. And I get to see the news and watch some movies. I know how bad it is over there. Somalia, fucking Black Hawk Down, man.”
“Yes, it was a dangerous place. But she made it better for those people, helped them. I promise you, Shaw, I will always keep her safe.”
“She said you took her in and asked nothing from her in return
.” He shook the letter at him. “No one does that. Everyone fucking wants something, man.”
Doc smirked. Maybe in Bobby Shaw’s world. “She’s one of the good ones and deserves a break in life. We thought we were going to die. During that time, we shared something that bonded us together and created the life inside her. What do I want from her? Just for her to be happy and raise our child with me.”
“Are you going to let her write and call me?”
“That’s why I’m here. To decide that.”
“You’re a fucking fed, and you’re afraid of me,” Shaw said with a knowing smile.