Windows in the Mist

by Trina Lane

  “Good.”

  As they walked out of the door, there was a man standing by the swimming pool. His trunks rode low on his lean hips as he stretched his arms high above his head and swung his arms to loosen up. Malaki sucked in a gasp.

  “I guess the new house comes with a view,” Javier said.

  Malaki mumbled something. Javier didn’t catch it. He waved when the man looked up at them and did a double take at the sight of Malaki. He did not like the slow eye-fuck coming from the man as Malaki walked toward him. Javier hung back as Malaki introduced himself and the two chatted for a minute. The guy glanced his way then back at Malaki. Javier’s gaze collided with a pair of narrowed dark brown eyes and a frowning mouth. It was at that moment he realized he was grinding his teeth and clenching his fists.

  What the hell? Okay, item twenty-two to discuss in therapy this week.

  He shook out his hands and signaled to Malaki that he was headed towards the car. As he passed through the gates to the front parking area, the sound of running steps came from behind him.

  “Wait up!”

  Javier turned, but kept walking backwards. Maybe he could just play it off as though he hadn’t unintentionally cock-blocked his friend. “Hey, I gotta run, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He ran to his car before Malaki could say a word.

  Chapter Seven

  “Thank you for agreeing to help me, Agent Yang.”

  “This is an unusual request, but given the circumstances, I’m inclined to help. You do realize that the families may be unwilling to talk to you?”

  “I do, and I’ll respect their wishes. It just seems wrong not to try.”

  “That’s admirable. We’ll try the Carsons first. I’ll initiate the call and introduce you, then let you take over.”

  “Okay. They’re the parents of the man from San Francisco, right?”

  Agent Yang nodded as she dialed on the desktop phone and the ring pierced the room. He winced at the volume. Nerves were making him jumpy. All last night and this morning before he’d met Malaki, he’d thought about what he wanted to say. They didn’t exactly make a Hallmark card for this situation.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Agent Yang with the FBI. Is this Mr. Carson?”

  “Yes, I didn’t expect to hear from you again. Is there some new information about my son’s killer?”

  “In a way. I’m here with a man named Javier. He was another victim of Mr. Pesano’s, and has some information he wanted to share.”

  “I thought all the other victims died?”

  Agent Yang looked at him and Javier saw the silent question in her eyes.

  “I nearly did, sir. I was held captive and tortured for seven months.”

  “How did you escape? I thought the police didn’t have any suspects, or was it just pure luck that they found you?”

  Maybe he was listening too hard, but he thought there was a hint of resentment in Mr. Carson’s voice. He could understand the sentiment, since the man had been forced to bury his son and Javier was alive and mostly well. He looked at Agent Yang. He wasn’t sure if he could divulge any information with legal implications. She nodded and the ball was in his court. He’d been working really hard with his therapist in coming to terms with not only his time in captivity, but also how it had come to an end.

  How it came to an end? You need to say the words. Stop letting them have power over your life.

  “Hello?”

  “I…I…I killed him.”

  He heard a loud expulsion of breath over the phone, then silence. Javier looked at Agent Yang.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “I know there’s an appropriate response to your announcement, but the only thing running through my head is ‘thank fucking God’. Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

  “No, sir. It…um, it came to light afterwards that there was a bank account that held the confiscated assets of all the victims. With the help of a forensic accountant, I was able to claim the contents as the only survivor. There’s no way to separate the exact holdings by individual, and I don’t feel comfortable keeping everything. I know that money will never bring back your son, but some of the assets rightly belonged to him and therefore you.”

  “There’re many things I learned about my son and his life during the investigation. Some of them I really don’t understand or quite frankly didn’t need to know. However, there is one absolute that will never change. I love my son, and whatever you found in that account will never mean as much to me as he did. Keep the money to restart your life or give it away. I don’t care.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I wish I had something else to offer you.”

  “You can make the best of your life. I don’t know how you came into contact with that monster, but all I ask is that you take precautions. Don’t…don’t put yourself into a dangerous situation that risks this second chance you have at life.”

  “That’s a promise I can make, sir.”

  He felt as if he should offer to keep in touch, but didn’t know if that was appropriate or if the Persons would have any interest in speaking to him again. Maybe we won’t be Christmas card acquaintances, but would it be rubbing it in their faces that I lived while their son didn’t?

  “Have a good life, Javier.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Agent Yang said what she needed to and they hung up. They made three more calls with similar outcomes. Not all the family members had such a positive response to Javier’s survival, and he understood the resentment. With each call Javier’s gut clenched a little less when he said the words ‘I killed him.’ He clearly had some decisions to make, because none of families wanted a portion of the money. They had one last call to make. Then he planned on getting a stiff drink. Maybe he’d even call Malaki and see if he’d finished his shopping.

  They dialed the number of a family in Chicago and waited for it to connect.

  “I told you to stop calling here!”

  Javier whipped his head towards Agent Yang.

  “Mrs. Caballero, I won’t take up much of your time. However, there is—”

  “No, there’s no however. I told you that we don’t have a daughter.”

  Agent Yang sighed. “Mrs. Caballero, we already have a positive identification based on the information you provided when you reported your daughter missing.”

  “That pervert you found was not my daughter. My little girl would never do those disgusting things.”

  “Ma’am, I won’t profess to understand what you’re going through. I do have some information that might be welcome.”

  He glanced at Agent Yang and she shrugged. She’d warned him that this particular family had not reacted well to the news of their daughter’s death. But unlike most of the loved ones she’d encountered in her career, it wasn’t the woman’s death that seemed to be the source of pain, but the information about her being a submissive. They’d already agreed before the call that Agent Yang would do the talking, so Javier sat back and listened.

  “We did discover that Mr. Pesano had placed all the assets of his victims into a single account and we’re notifying the families that they can contact the bank if they wish to make a claim.”

  There was a hesitation and unfortunately Javier wasn’t surprised by the mercenary nature of humanity.

  “Well, since that woman wasn’t my daughter, then I guess I have no right to claim any of the money.”

  “That would be true.” She looked at Javier and he nodded. “If, however, you want to change your mind, I’ll leave the information with you.”

  He’d taken Tyler’s advice and put the money into a trust. If any of the families wanted to claim part of the money, they’d contact Wilhelm. The Synder Foundation was generously willing to pay the attorney’s retaining fee for the next year, the deadline they’d established for any claims to be made. While he’d spoken on the phone today he’d been very careful not to divulge any personal information. And, fortunately, so far his name had been kep
t out of the news reports.

  They hung up the phone and Javier buried his face in his hands. People grieved in different ways, but he’d never understood why someone would turn their back on another person simply for one aspect of their personal lives. Why does it continue to make a difference who and how a person loves? Isn’t it more important in life that people find love at all?

  “Are you okay?” Agent Yang asked.

  He scrubbed his face then opened his eyes. “Yeah. I mean in the grand scheme of things, I’m doing fine. So I guess I need to really start thinking about what I’m going to do with the money.”

  “You know, if I wasn’t so good at my job, I would have thought I had the wrong person when I first met Mrs. Caballero. When we first made contact with her and her husband, it played out like so many times before. Too many times before. But the moment they found out she’d been a member of a BDSM club, they completely disavowed any knowledge of her. It sounds coldhearted, but I thought the money might make them reconsider. Their daughter has the right to be remembered with love and respect, not derision because she just happened to need something they don’t understand.”

  “She will be. You and I will remember her. Her family in the community will remember her. There was a time when I thought losing the love of mis abuelos y mi madre would be the worst thing imaginable. That’s part of the reason that I was such an unmitigated asshole in high school. I was so convinced that if I was honest about being gay, then my life would be over. It was only after I accepted those parts of myself I found a way out of the toxicity. Maybe she was lucky enough to find out the same before she died.”

  “I hope so. Based on what you’ve said during this process, I took the liberty of pulling together a list of organizations that support victims of violence. You can investigate which ones you want to donate to and how much to give away. Look, I understand a little bit about survivors’ guilt, and you can’t let it rule your life any more than that monster whose whip and brands scarred your skin.”

  He locked gazes with Agent Yang and for the first time saw layers of humanity beneath the shell of professionalism. There was the same expression in her eyes that he saw each morning in the mirror.

  “I was on patrol with my squad in the Kunduz Province when we were ambushed by Taliban forces. Our combat controller was killed almost immediately and I used his radio to contact the Air Force to call in airstrikes. Sometimes I can still feel the heat of the explosions as they landed only feet away. We pressed deeper into the village but became trapped in an alley after running into a locked metal gate. Enemy forces fired machine guns and grenades at our position, killing five of my team members. Eventually a QRF team managed to evacuate us, but the smell of blood and burning buildings never really leaves. After I got home from deployment, I left the Army and joined the FBI.”

  “And now you stop a very different kind of monster.”

  “Or try to, anyway. Somedays we’re better at it than others. Sometimes we’re too late.”

  “That just means you’re human. Thank you, Agent Yang, for everything.”

  They stood and Javier held out his hand.

  She shook it, smiling. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Alde.”

  * * * *

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Alde.”

  “You as well, Dr. Davis. Thank you for asking me to come in.”

  He was as nervous as a new graduate going for his first job interview. The only difference was that he had a much nicer quality suit that was cut to fit his new leaner physique.

  “I thought we’d sit down and talk for a little while, then I could introduce you to the team and show you around the facilities.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  As they walked towards the manager’s office, Javier took a few glances around. He was comfortable in the space and it seemed as though they had good quality equipment. He was surprised by the size of the offices. In his previous jobs, the therapist admin space had been little more than a glorified phone booth.

  “Have a seat. So, your résumé indicates that you were the chief therapist in your prior position, but are now applying for a non-management position. That’s generally the opposite of professionals who’re still in the early years of their career.”

  “I can see why that may seem confusing. As I said on the phone, I took a leave of absence for personal reasons.”

  “Why did you decide not to return to your previous job?”

  He’d been answering questions like this since he’d started his job search. He’d gotten various levels of reactions to his rehearsed response, but no job offers. And there was really no way to know for sure if his explanations were the reason, but there was always just some little look in the interviewer’s eyes. It was as if their minds were closed to the idea of Javier joining the team and the rest of the interview was simply a curtesy.

  Maybe it’s the moment to lay it all on the line. He swallowed and tried very hard not to squirm in his chair.

  “It was complicated. As you know, that particular facility is a subsidiary of Vista Rehab. While I was gone, the controlling partners promoted another employee to my position and now that I’m able to return to work, there’s no longer a place for me.”

  Dr. Davis frowned and Javier saw the question in his eyes. What he’d just said sounded as though it went against every principle of FMLA regulations. From his first impressions and background research, this particular company felt like a good fit. He liked that it was actually owned by physical therapists and not a corporate figurehead who had no clinical experience.

  “I can see the question in your eyes. I will say there are absolutely no hard feelings between me and my former employer. In fact, I’ve been going there for therapy as part of my recovery from ACL repair.”

  “Was the injury the reason for your leave of absence?”

  “Not directly.”

  Time to put my money where my mouth is.

  Javier sighed. He was either going to get another polite we’ll call when we’ve made a decision and have his résumé thrown in the trash before he walked out of the door, or he might be sitting across from someone who understood that he just needed a chance to start over.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. Last October I was abducted and held prisoner by a man who tortured me for seven months. Now I’m at a point where I’m ready both physically and mentally to get my life back on track. I’m two weeks away from my level two sport test, but confident enough in my recovery to take on patients again. I’m a good therapist. I work hard, I enjoy the challenging cases and working in a team environment while maintaining my own autonomy.”

  “Well, that wasn’t on the list of things I expected to hear today. I was already impressed with your experience and the references you submitted, but I have to say that I now admire you as an individual. Look, I’m not going to drag out this process. This interview was really just a formality in my mind to make sure we didn’t have some major personality clash.” He slid a folder across his desk. “Here are the details about salary and benefits.”

  “Thank you. I’ll review the information and give you my answer in a couple of days.”

  “Excellent. Let’s go take a spin around the building and meet the others. I know I’m a bit biased, but I think we have a good crew. We support one another both in the office and out, often texting each other after hours and usually not about anything related to work.”

  “I like that. We had a talented crew where I was before, but our relationship stopped at the end of the day.”

  Javier took a critical examination of the facility. He liked that, like his old job, this practice specialized in sports and spine rehabilitation. There was nothing wrong with helping a little lady named Viola get off her walker after a hip replacement, but he thrived when presented with the opportunity to help a person learn to walk again after traumatic injury. He smiled as he saw his favorite anti-gravity treadmill. That thing had helped him make amazing progress during his recovery.

/>   “Greg, this is Javier. He’s considering joining the team.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Greg held out his hand.

  “You too. What do you like about working here?”

  “Oh, nothing like going for the jugular. I think what I like best is that everyone here respects one another’s strengths. We work hard, but like to have fun too.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Javier nodded towards the laptop sitting on the exam table. “I see that you use the SerPT system. What do you think about it?”

  “The LOT program remains cumbersome, despite recent improvements. Otherwise no complaints. You’ve used it before?”

  “Yeah. We switched to that after we got tired of the nightmare with ProGen.”

  Greg groaned. “Oh, let me tell you about the time, back when I was working for a hospital in Austin, I had over two years’ worth of documents pending approval because I didn’t know that after you scan them into a chart, you have to sign off on them.”

  “Ouch. Well, maybe we can share more war stories another time.”

  Greg nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  The facilities were much nicer in person than the pictures he’d seen on the web, and first impressions of the other employees gave him a sense that they could be friends. All that was really left was to review the salary and benefit information. On one hand, he really needed the job, but on the other he had enough respect for himself and his skills that he wasn’t willing to accept a subpar offer.

  * * * *

  An hour later he knocked on Malaki’s door. He hadn’t texted ahead, so he hoped his friend was home, and if he was home, wasn’t entertaining a certain tall blond with a swimmer’s body and tempting blue eyes. Jaxon was a perfectly nice guy, but every time the three of them were together Javier just wanted to impotently growl like a Chihuahua guarding its food.

  He raised his hand to knock one more time, since he’d seen Malaki’s truck in the parking lot. The door swung open and he came face to face with Malaki’s massive tattoo. Beads of water cascaded over the Samoan design that Javier might have imagined tracing with his tongue on occasion. The saliva pooling in his mouth got lodged in his throat when Malaki stood there in nothing but a towel. However, the pleasure fog in his brain lifted when he spied the neighbor sitting on the sofa just behind Malaki, looking very much at home.