Page 10 of Snow Blind (The Technicians #14)

T he hour approached two in the afternoon as Helen entered the city limits of Antioch, Illinois, on her way to Passion Fruit's weird little cabin in the woods. The nearly four-hour return drive was postponed by her new husband, whom she found first thing in the morning, sitting in their kitchen, wearing a three-piece suit. She'd never seen him in a suit before, complete with necktie and pocket swatch. It made her girly parts clench at the man’s sexiness.

"Well, you look all kinds of delicious," Helen said.

"We're getting legalized this morning," he said. "Will you please change into a pretty dress so we can head over to make us official?"

Helen looked down at the travel attire she wore for the four-hour drive and shrugged. Coffee in hand, she went to the bedroom and quickly changed and returned wearing a soft cream-colored dress. She'd put her hair up, accenting twirling soft tendrils around her face and added a bit of lip gloss and mascara. She gave him a smile as she twirled on the floor.

The ride to the courthouse went without a hitch, and they obtained the license and found a judge to perform the ceremony. It would have been fine with one exception to the morning ritual. Mustang had other plans.

They stopped for breakfast as a celebratory meal to share their first dining out experience as man and wife. At home, Helen's intentions were to change clothing to hit the road, but again, her husband had other plans. Mustang carried his new bride across the threshold and continued on to the bedroom. He began to undress himself after he set her on the edge of the bed to watch him disrobe.

She was perplexed at his timing; although any sexy time with her man was welcome, she was going to be late getting back. "Now, Jay? You want to do this now?"

"I am yours," he said softly. "I have documentation here that says I belong to you. On this bed, I want to consummate our union before you leave me again for three weeks. I need you to tide me over. I need to make love to my wife."

Helen couldn't argue with his logic, and an hour and a half later, she was ready to hit the road. Her back ached and her thighs burned with the buildup of lactic acid, reminding her she was no spring chicken and hour-long love-making sessions were for twenty-year-olds. She had to stop twice on the four-hour drive to pee, which also added to her travel time in the truck that she was unaccustomed to driving.

Just inside of the city limits, her technician phone rang, and Helen growled. She connected the line to her ear buds, taking the call.

"Go for Cranberry," she spoke in the earpiece.

The voice on the other end replied, "Interesting morning. Anything you want to tell me?"

"Naw, not really. I fell and hurt my hand. I needed some insurance. He made sure I will have some on his plan," Helen said honestly.

"Is that how you're going to tell your boss you got married?"

"Seriously, Boss Lady. My man isn't a working Technician, so it doesn't matter," Helen said. "Is this a concern or an issue with my training?"

"Only if you're planning to start a family and a year of training will be wasted on a breeder," Azreal told her.

"No worries on that front. I don't have the plumbing to create a life, and unless he plans to buy us some kids, then we won't have any," Helen said. "The reason for your call, Boss? I know it wasn't to talk about my morning."

The line was quiet. Azreal needed to cover a few points with Helen to ensure she had a good understanding of the what and where of the potentialities of life as a Technician. Not everyone was happy with the services they performed, especially if shutting down businesses killed the bad guy’s revenue. However, there was information that Cranberry needed to be made aware of and fast. Azreal didn't like doing it over the phone, but there was little choice. Information was a commodity, and the one who had the most was the power player in the game. Helen needed the information Azreal had, but first, clarification was required.

"The stalker you dropped in the alley, Lawrence Canton," Azrael said. "He's up and disappeared. He packed up his shit and is gone. We followed the money trail on who hired him, but the disappearance is strange. You know anything about it?"

Helen slowed for a traffic light. People milled about on the street, doing early afternoon shopping, going about their lives. In some ways, she envied the simplicity of it all, almost wanting to go back to her boring everyday life and making yummy meals for her man, but she was needed in the world to level the playing fields. She was honest with her boss, never one to lie willingly.

"I returned his ID and credit cards," Helen said.

Azreal’s voice wasn’t calm when she responded, "You did what?"

"Yeah, I broke into his house while he was asleep, tickled his foot to make him wake up, and when he went to the kitchen for water, he found the ID and cards on the counter," Helen said. "While he was in the kitchen, I left one of the books he saw me buy at the bookstore on his pillow. Scared the shit out of him because he knew I was more than likely still in his house."

"That was an unnecessary risk," Azreal cautioned, "and what if he'd caught you or hurt you?"

"I had a needle full of Taipan venom as a backup," Helen said.

"You are fucking scary," Azreal said, "but clever. Listen up, Clever. I have information you need to know, and this is important."

Helen pulled over to an empty parking spot. She placed the vehicle in Park and gave her boss her undivided attention for information which would be critical for what came next. Silence filled the cabin as she listened to Azreal give her just enough information to draw her own conclusions.

"The order to find you came from the Chrysalis," Azrael said. "I'm sure it's no surprise to you, but they know nothing about you, which works in our favor. However, one of the most prolific crime bosses in the greater Chicago area is Michael Kurtzwilde. He's a pimp, a dealer, a trafficker, a nightclub owner which doubles as a brothel, and an all about sleazebag. Everyone who is anyone is his on his payroll, so he's made himself the gold standard of douchebags."

"Okay," Helen said.

"He's also Passion Fruit's father," Azreal said. "She's not his only kid. He has others. Each one is trained to serve him in some way or another. Passion Fruit, Kurtzwilde sent to medical school so he'd have his very own doctor to take care of his...flock."

Helen was surprised at the information, speaking her private thoughts out loud, "What in the entire fuck?"

"Passion Fruit had a recent assignment she didn't complete; or at least, there is no proof of completion," Azreal said. "The work orders received, we don't question when they come through, so I have no idea who placed the work assignment for her."

"Do you think it was that Kurtzwilde dude?"

"If it was, and she didn't make it happen, Daddy may pay her a visit," Azreal said. "If he shows up, he does not, I repeat, he does not need to see you or know you are there. Stay out of his line of sight because he may well be a part of the Chrysalis, and to find you with his daughter...I don't know. He's dangerous."

"Got it."

"No, Cranberry, he's really dangerous," Azrael explained. "He's so terrible that folks like the Delgados allow him to live because at least they know what he will do, versus a replacement. The man is protected, which gives him carte blanche to unalive anyone who is a threat to his way of making money. You are a threat to him. He will unalive you and send your body to your new husband in pieces each week just to drive your man insane."

"Dear God!"

"Be aware of what kind of people the Technicians monitor and remove. The veiled line between us and them is very thin," she cautioned. "We have to make sure we don't become the monsters we are hunting."

Helen listened, adding a lesson learned. "I was told by the Archangel that the demon which grows in us is the demon we feed. I have a home to come to and someone waiting at that home for me. I'm not going to be stupid."

"Good. I might be starting to like you. Also, you need a real wedding," Azreal said. "I want to be a bridesmaid."

The call ended, leaving Helen sitting in her car, wondering what the heck had just happened. Azreal had provided her with a great deal of information to sort through, but more importantly, she’d cautioned her that Passion Fruit may be in danger for failing to complete the assignment. This wasn't good.

"This isn't good at all," she said, making a mental note to look up Michael Kurtzwilde. However, as fate would intervene, she wouldn't need to look the man up. He was coming to pay a visit to his daughter and deal her a blow that Passion Fruit wasn't prepared to process.

****

H ELEN HAD BARELY UNPACKED and stowed her luggage when a red light in the corner of the living room began to flash. She ran into the space, wondering what that light meant to Passion Fruit. At the old place she’d shared with Cherry in Indianapolis, the flashing red light meant unwanted company getting too close to the house. Her eyes scanned the room. Bryan sat in the chair with an empty male urinal next to him. He was working a puzzle and enjoying a cup of tea. Fresh new bandages covered his face and hands, but he still looked like a mummy on welfare.

Bryan asked, "What does the light mean?"

"It means I have company arriving in six minutes," Passion Fruit said, going to the monitors. She spotted the car coming up the long drive towards the cabin. "Shit, it's my father."

Helen's eyes grew wide. "Bryan, up and move fast. That man does not need to know either of us is here. On your feet! Grab anything that says you were here and move with a purpose."

She helped him get to his feet and started down the hall. Helen grabbed the mug he was drinking from as well as the urinal, taking them both down the hall with her. In the bedroom, she pushed Bryan into a chair and held her finger to her lips.

"He's a bad man," she told Bryan. "He will make us both stop breathing and her too, if he knows we are here. Stay as quiet as you can."

Bryan didn't need to be told twice as the sound of a doorbell rang out. From where they sat in the bedroom, both he and Helen could hear the conversation clearly. Both wished they hadn't.

****

M ICHAEL KURTZWILDE sucked all the air from a room. A man of imposing form, he stood at six feet three, weighed in at a solid two hundred and forty pounds, and was loads of redistributed muscle mass. The once blonde hair had grayed in the back and on the sides, but the blue eyes still were cold and icy.

"Daughter," he said, coming through the door.

"Father, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Passion Fruit asked.

Kurtzwilde looked about the place. It hadn't changed. The little cabin was still a shithole where his daughter wasted her skills as a doctor patching up animals of the two and four-legged variety. He knew she'd become a Technician to spite him, but that too, he’d made work in his favor.

"You had an assignment, which you have yet to complete," Kurtzwilde said. "The order was to make it look like an accident."

"I wasn't aware you knew what I did on the side," Passion Fruit told him.

"I am aware every time you leave this house, throw a hump in a shitty hotel room with a no faced stranger, and enjoy a glass a wine at that hovel you call a bar in Chi-Town," he told her. "What I am not understanding is why your mark is not dead. As a matter of fact, there are no signs of him at all."

"Then perhaps I did complete the assignment."

"Without proof, there is no payment, Daughter. Where is the proof of Elliott Parker's death?"

"Honestly, I was there, in place, and setting the stage for an untimely accident," she said truthfully. "A body came over the side of the mountain face with a hole in it that dropped at my feet and tumbled down the crevice. I wasn't sure if the next bullet would be for me, so I got clear and reported in."

"Bullshit!" he snapped at her. "Parker's clothes, his motorcycle, his backpack, and tent were all still at the campsite, but not him. Verification is required not only for your payment but to continue to be of value to your little crew of Fruits."

"Father, I can go back to the site to see if I can locate the body that fell or try to find this Parker guy and close the contract," she said. "You're not going to touch the Fruit in the bowl, are you?"

"No, but I hear there is a new piece sitting in the dish. We don't know anything about her, and she's making trouble," he said. "The Chrysalis doesn't like trouble. I don't like trouble, which means I don't like her. People I don't like don't live long."

Passion Fruit asked, "Do you know who she is?"

"No, but you do," he said, squinting his eyes. "Tell your new friend to chill the fuck out and sit her ass still for a minute, or if they find her, it's going to be nasty."

"Father, I can't tell other Technicians what to do; it doesn't work like that," Passion Fruit said, wishing she'd made the failed attempts on the man's life successful. She hated the air he breathed.

"Do you think you're my only child that is a Technician?" Kurtzwilde said. "You have a brother down in Georgia. I have another son in the Midwest who works with the Storms named Thunder. I have a son who is on the Northeast Crew of the Trees named Elm. I even have a daughter who is a horse with the Western Crew named Morgan. Again, I tell you daughter, you are simply one of many."

"And you're telling me this; why?"

"I'm making you aware of how small your world actually is and to make sure you're not hooking up with your siblings," he said. "The one in Georgia, he's a real bad ass. You should reach out, get to know him. Living alone like this isn't good for you. You need a man to take care of you."

Passion Fruit wanted him gone. She wanted him, his testosterone, and male bullshit that was toxifying her living space out of her home. More than anything else, she truly wanted him dead.

"Noted. Anything else, Father?"

"Yes, proof of completion is needed by the end of the week, or those people will make trouble. You don't need their trouble," he said, looking about the place. "Did you have a good Thanksgiving? Please tell me you weren't here alone eating microwaved turkey."

"No, I cooked a small bird and had dinner with a friend," she told him.

"You know, a few grandkids from you guys would be nice as well," Kurtzwilde told her, then looked at his watch. That was the cue for him to leave. The father and daughter time had come to a close. "Get it done. Send proof. Close the contract."

"Yes, Sir," Passion Fruit said, accepting the modicum of affection of his kiss on her cheek. He added in a half hug, patted her on her back, and opened his wallet. He pulled a wad of cash and dropped it on the stand beside the door.

"I know, but just in case you have an unexpected repair or need to purchase a cadaver," he said, winking at her.

She stood on the porch in the cold air, the bits of ice in the wind pecking at her face. The pain and discomfort were welcomed as she watched the powerful Range Rover make tracks down the hill. He wasn't driving. He never drove. The driver knew where she lived in case he ever needed to come back without her father. When the car passed the security threshold, she stepped back inside the house.

Passion Fruit was armed with a great deal of information. The primary information centered on her lying house guest, whom she hoped had heard all the conversation, along with her new mentee. They were all in the gray and the situation was starting to turn a sickly bluish.

Helen came from the room, followed by Bryan. They both stared at Passion Fruit, and Bryan knew he needed to start talking. Passion Fruit stared at him, waiting for him to state what she already knew but didn't want to face, but Bryan said what she wasn't prepared to hear.

"He is Imperial," Byran said.

Passion Fruit’s eyebrows shot upwards, "Excuse me?"

"That man, his voice, I know it. He is Imperial, one of the Chrysalis," Bryan said. "I discovered it by accident, and I was going to turn over what I had when I came back from the camping trip, but they found me first."

"Either way, you were supposed to die, Elliot Parker, because I was also there to kill you," Passion Fruit said.

Bryan's eyes were wide. "What does this mean? I mean what are you going to do?"

Helen didn't know what to say. There was so much information in the man's Kurtzwilde’s words confessing to having kids on every crew. She’d held her breath when he spoke and got to the Western crew of horses. If he'd said her man Mustang was one of his kids, she would have come from the room and shot him herself. However, she’d learned that he was looking for her, and the way he spoke meant he knew she was nearby and connected to his daughter.

Helen asked, "Yeah, Passion Fruit, what are we going to do?"

"Complete the job and kill Elliot Parker, but we need to stage an accident and we need a body," Passion Fruit said.

Bryan's arms shook at the realization of what the woman meant. The man he was needed to die, and they had to have an unbreathing body to replace the very alive but broken body currently housed by the real Elliot Parker.

Bryan's new reality smacked him in the severely bandaged face, and he took a seat in the chair. "What in the entire hell?