Justified Means (Book One) (The Agency Files) (37 page)

“Somewhere around Chicago, I think.” The ease with which she lied unnerved her a bit. Was this what it was like to be Keith? She knew he wouldn’t lie about some things, but if it kept someone safe, he had no qualms at all. That seemed odd, but necessary. However, she’d never been accustomed to lying so freely.

“I’ll go talk to the officer. Your mom wants to see you, of course. She’s being a bit emotional about all this.”

“Dad, her daughter was kidnapped. It’s ok for mom to be emotional about that. Cut her some slack.”

“I suppose.”

“Dad…” she repeated warningly.

“Perhaps you’re right. I don’t see the point to it, but—”

“The point is that most people have emotions about startling events like this whether they want them or not. You always forget that you’re the unnatural one, not everyone else. Just deal with it.”

“Hugs and holding and…”

“And listening without trying to fix it. She’ll be ok. She always is.” Erika kissed her father’s cheek. “You love her.”

“Endorphins.”

“Fine. You endorphin her. Go prove it.”

Tom shrugged. “After the police. Your mom wants you anyway.”

 

 

 

It took hours to convince everyone from her mother to the captain that Keith was not the enemy and that she needed five minutes alone with him. Even as it was, an officer stayed just inside the door, watching—protecting. One look at the suspicious expression on the woman’s face, and Keith decided to try an unusual approach. The second he was within feet of Erika, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her as if he’d been separated for months. “I was so worried!”

How Erika managed to recover quickly enough, neither seemed to know, but she did. As she hugged him again, she whispered, “You rescued me from a gas station near Chicago and we’ve been traveling for two days. I’ve begged them not to leak the news that I’ve been found. I said that the kidnappers would find me and kill us if it happened.”

Keith pulled away slightly nodding. He mouthed, “Good job,” before saying, “You’re ok? They didn’t hurt you?”

“They’re the police. They’re not going to hurt me.”

He allowed himself to brush a thumb across her cheek, hoping he looked like the deeply in love man he tried to pretend to be. “You kicked the one guy. I know they don’t take that kind of thing well.”

“You’re so cute!” Erika made an exaggerated roll of her eyes at the officer. “He’s convinced you guys are going to pull a Rodney King on me just because I freaked a bit when they stopped us, and I kicked that guy.”

“We don’t assault citizens—even if they attack us. We’ll fight you off if necessary, but a kick doesn’t require that kind of force.”

“Yeah. He’s just a little paranoid.”

“How long have you two been together?” The officer tried to act casual, and it was working with Erika, but Keith knew better.

He waited, unwilling to answer on the off chance that she’d told someone they were strangers. What he didn’t know could kill their credibility. Erika shrugged. “We met on my vacation a few weeks back. When they dragged me to that dumb station the third day in a row, I just begged a gal in the bathroom to let me use her cell phone. Keith came the next day and helped me get out of there.”

“Sloppy.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t anything like you see on TV. Those guys on TV are always on the ball, y’know? These idiots didn’t seem to know what they were doing. I think they really thought Dad would pay up if they kept me long enough or something.” She winked at Keith. “They don’t know my dad. He’s not the paying up type.”

“Nah. Men talk like that, but when it comes down to their little girls being scared at a gun at their heads…”

“Have you ever met a man who didn’t handle emotional females well?”

The woman nodded. “Yeah.”

“Now, add a man without normal emotions, and that’s my dad. See what I mean?”

The door opened and another officer’s face peeked in the door. “Look, we’ve got to get them in for more questioning. Are they done yet?”

“We’re ready,” Keith agreed. As they moved toward the door, he whispered, “Let me try to answer what happened from the station. You answer before.”

The questioning went on for what seemed like hours. Any time they asked Keith a question about her captivity, he shrugged. “You’d have to ask her. She didn’t tell me.”

Each time they asked about a location, Erika shook her head. “I don’t know. I was all turned around. Keith should know, though. He found me. I know I was close to Chicago though. They said something about that.”

A few things didn’t line up, but rather than making the officers come down harder, they seemed to take it in stride. They examined and cross-examined until both Keith and Erika were ready to collapse, but it worked.

“So, you ran from us so that you would get caught and have police protection?”

“Yes. It sounds weird, but we were afraid they might be watching police stations.”

“Do you know how unlikely that is?” The officer shook his head. “There are too many stations between here and Chicago—”

“Look, we were scared. What do we know about it? All we could think of was to get caught so that we’d have police protection.” Keith stammered and bumbled, trying to appear to have confused bravado. It was an Oscar performance. “Hey, can I make a phone call now?”

 

 

“Mark? It’s Keith. Yeah, I’m in a bit of trouble.” Keith listened for a moment and then continued. “Well, I’m going to need bail probably. The hearing is at nine o’clock in the morning. Can you set that up? Yeah, I know it’s technically morning now, but hey.”

Anyone listening to both sides of the conversation would be utterly confused. As Keith talked about the charges and the guestimate at bail, Mark informed him how they’d play out the capture. The effort it took to listen and comprehend the critical information Mark passed to him, maintaining a coherent one-sided conversation, all while trying to make it look natural and as if nothing were amiss nearly made him come undone.

It was time to sound desperate. “Mark, come on, you’ve gotta help me! I can’t spend the rest of the week here until my arraignment!” He listened to Mark tell him to be ready to follow Erika to wherever Helen planned to take her and give instructions as to where they’d meet.

The walk back to his cell was awkward. He was used to people who expected him to talk, but the officer had no interest in carrying on a conversation. Instead, he started several awkward sentences and then muttered something about uppity cops who couldn’t give anyone the time of day before he pretended to drop to the bed. The officer hardly noticed.

So, everything was in motion. In twenty-four hours, Erika’s nightmare would be over, and the biggest name in human trafficking in the United States would be behind bars. Mark had enough evidence against her and the Anastas syndicate to put them away indefinitely. It wouldn’t bring back Jill and Tony, but at least they’d get some justice, and their families could have some closure.

Alone, with the lights dimmed as low as a holding tank can be, Keith wrestled with his thoughts. He needed mentally to prepare himself for the following morning. There’d be no margin for error. Every word, every response, everything must be calculated to perfection. Even the slightest mistake could spell disaster, but his mind refused to cooperate. As he tried to reason out every possible scenario, the memory of his impulsive kiss assaulted him. He shoved the recollection aside for a later date, but when his next scenario failed, leaving Erika wounded or dying, that moment flashed before him again.

Um, Lord, a little help here?
The thought was chased from his mind faster than he’d imagined possible. Had she responded out of interest or because she was that sharp on the uptake? He didn’t know. Furthermore, he needed not to care. His job was to get this assignment complete without any more casualties, and that wasn’t going to happen if he sat around his cell daydreaming like a teenager.

When he could think of no more scenarios, Keith moved onto prayer. It was a little easier to focus when he wasn’t forced to push thoughts of Erika aside. Instead, he brought his questions to the Lord. It felt like cheating at first, but he shook that idea off as ludicrous. What was dishonest about talking to the Father of fathers about a problem? Wasn’t that the purpose of prayer?

However, after his success with prayer, his relaxation techniques, designed to give his body maximum refreshment when he couldn’t allow himself the luxury of sleep, failed. Miserably. Each attempt to bring his thoughts to calming things, gentle scripture, or lazy memories that always seemed to help him relax dissolved at the mental image of Erika’s face. She hadn’t hesitated—had acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That wasn’t what bothered him.

What annoyed him most—what niggled at him as he tried to rest before the hearing—was the realization that it mattered more to him than a simple diversionary tactic ever should.

 

 

 

Helen waited for the hearing to end. She was prepared to pay the bail—had cash in hand—and it was just a matter of time before she’d have Erika out of the way for good. The man, Keith, might be a problem, but it couldn’t be helped. If both came with her, though, she’d have to consider letting herself be shot. That sounded revolting, but the alternative was unacceptable. She could not afford to be under suspicion. Life was about to become very sweet again.

As case after case came before the bored sounding judge, Helen sent text messages flying to her “problem solvers.” Gordon was on his way to her house now. Frank followed Gordon. The moment Erika was dead Frank would take out the robber and take a few months off to enjoy the fruits of his labors. She’d use someone else for Anastas. Despite what she’d told Gordon, that’d been the plan all along. He worked better knowing his cash flow wouldn’t dry up anytime soon.

At the sound of Erika’s name, she sat up and listened carefully. So, she was claiming kidnapping. Helen watched the judge’s face as he listened to the recommendation of the officers.
Why is she even here if they don’t want to press charges anymore?
The moment the thought entered her mind, the judge asked the same question.

The ADA shook her head. “We didn’t learn this until she’d already been booked and I had already filed the complaint.”

“Dismissed. Um, next is Auger, Keith.”

 

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