Page 36

Alex

“Tell me again, what happened to this dude?”

“I waited 20 minutes and then called the number he had listed,” Noah follows me back down the long corridor, “his mom picked up, said he’s still interested, but he won’t be able to make the interview today because he, and I quote, got caught up in a raid at a friend’s house last night, but not to worry because he didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Dealing with a waste-of-time no-show for an open security position is the last thing I want to deal with this morning. Granted, it’s part of the reason I got this job to begin with. After an incident involving the last supervisor, a missing ID badge, a disgruntled ex-girlfriend, a vandalized company vehicle, and “misplaced” ammunition that ended up as bullet holes through said vehicle, the head of security cleaned house, fired half the staff, and hired me to help rebuild it.

“Oh, but the son of one of the VPs applied!” Noah adds with exuberance. “No resume, no experience, and no weapons training.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

“Not much,” Noah snickers. “He couldn’t pass the drug test.”

Of course.

“I’m going to have a word with April,” I mutter as I step through the doorway into the command center. This position is never going to be filled if HR keeps dropping the ball and sending me walking plant life.

Nate and Gavin are sitting at the bay of monitors, more or less keeping an eye on them while arguing over the next song on the playlist.

“She needs to change the posting,” Noah continues. “ Wanted: must love guns, the color black, and Metal Mondays. ”

A chuckle escapes my throat as I cross the room, making Gavin swivel around in his chair.

“Did Barrera just laugh? ” he asks with amusement.

I pause. “What do you mean? I laugh.”

“You never laugh,” Nate interjects from behind him. “I didn’t even know your cheek muscles worked.”

“Really?” I never noticed, probably because I’m too busy keeping these jackasses in line.

“Tell them to add, has good jokes, too,” Nate calls to Noah. “We want more of this. Then maybe he won’t be up our asses so much.”

“Too bad, you’re not my type,” I say as I sit down at the table in the middle of the room and pull out my phone to check my email.

Noah takes a seat across from me. “Honestly, what it should really say is, willing to march back and forth not doing shit all day, ” he says loud enough for Gavin and Nate to hear.

I open my mouth to add further insult, but hesitate as Noah’s words register. I look down at my phone, flashes of an idea ricocheting through my mind. And before I know it, I’m out the door again, headed for the north hallway where I can have some privacy. This is too important to text—if I even reach anyone, that is.

Pacing back and forth, I listen to the ring for what feels like an hour, until suddenly Colson answers right before voicemail picks up.

“Hey, where are you?” I ask as soon as I hear his voice.

“Nice to talk to you, too, Alex,” Colson sneers. “I’m in Colorado, thanks for asking.”

“Do you want a job?”

“A job?”

“Yeah, one that doesn’t involve sitting in sub-zero temperatures while being hunted by an apex predator.”

There’s a long pause.

“You’re calling me at 6:30 in the fucking morning to ask if I want a job?”

Oh yeah, the time difference…

“Yes.” That’s all I know to say, because it’s the truth.

“I don’t know, Alex,” his voice is tinged with uncertainty. “My dad has a piece of property that he inherited from my grandfather when he died. I’m thinking about buying it from him.”

“And staying in Colorado?”

“Where else would I go? Dire Ridge? The hunting’s better out here, anyway.”

“You can hunt a different kind of predator back here.”

Silence.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, I’m serious right now.” My tone turns sharp. “Pack your shit and move out.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? Why the hell not?”

“I can’t—” Colson hesitates. “I can’t come back, not after what happened.”

“That was six years ago,” I point out, “and you stayed long after that.”

“It’s not about Evie, Alex.”

“Then what is it about? Because the rest of us are here and as of this morning, I have a job waiting for you that requires the skills you have and I guarantee pays a hell of a lot more than you’re getting paid right now.”

Money talks, and I let it because I can’t tell Colson everything right now, like catching Bowen following Dallas to her job or planting a GPS on his truck. He would fly off the handle and I know how Dallas is about how much Colson knows about her life. It’s been six years, but I doubt he’s changed that much. Then again, something’s changed, something’s spooked him enough to run across the goddamn country while Bowen still walks free.

“This isn’t you, Col,” I say after another long pause. “You always run toward a fight, not away from it. What’s happened to you?”

“Thanks, but no, thanks.” There’s a rumble as he clears his throat. “Law enforcement and I don’t get along.”

“It’s not law enforcement. You were a ranger for the parks, yeah?”

“That’s different,” he snaps.

“Because people who actually care about the earth and living things can’t be corrupted that easily, right?” He forgets that it doesn’t matter how long we’ve been apart, I can still read him better than his own family can. “Security and law enforcement aren’t the same, just like the military and law enforcement aren’t the same.

“Potato, po-tah-to,” he drawls with disdain. “Just a pig by a different name.”

Now, he’s just being a dick. But I’m in no mood to listen to him wallow in his asinine self-pity.

“Look, I don’t know what happened to you, and one day you might tell me, but in the meantime, I know you won’t be satisfied sitting in solitude on some mountaintop while life goes on for everyone else back here. And I do mean, for everyone else, ” I lower my voice, “like nothing ever fucking happened.”

That one lights a fire under his ass.

“Don’t you fucking tell me what everyone else is doing while I’m here! Where were you two years ago? Not fucking here! I thought you were coming back, but you didn’t, and then you go and die! I couldn’t handle it if you—” He cuts himself off, the rage taking hold again. “You don’t know what I went through, Alex— what I still go through! ”

“No, I don’t,” I rasp into the speaker. “But I know you, Col, and you’re not escaping anything. Forget the titles and your preconceived notions. Everyone has an agenda and alliances can change by the day, and that’s true here just as much as it is in a war zone. It all depends on the end goal, and you need to figure out yours and get your head in the game—” split-second decision, “before your other sister walks into the woods and never comes out.”

I end the call before Colson can respond and storm back down the hallway. Maybe it was low, but so was him acting like spending four years as property of the United States government and another two as property of the highest bidder was some kind of slight against him. But if he wants to try and beat my ass again, he can drag himself down here from Alaska…Canada…wherever, and try.

I figure that, in the meantime, while Colson contemplates the seed I’ve planted, I can get back to my supervisory duties. The long walk to the other end of the building allows enough time for my heartrate to level out to a point where I’m not about to put my fist through a wall.

April’s busy squinting at her monitor when my dark figure eclipses her doorway.

As soon as she senses my presence, she flinches and her eyes round in surprise. “Alex!”

“April, you’re killing me.” I take a seat in the chair next to her desk. “Have you even been screening these people for qualifications?”

“Of course, I have! Well—” she cuts herself off, “the application I sent you this morning was more of a favor, if you know what I mean. Have they been that bad, though? If it’s the firearms training, we can schedule that ASAP. Otherwise, the access training’s not so bad, right? I mean, Dave had to add an insider threat module because—” she bows her head and lowers her voice, “because of what happened… ”

“April,” I smirk, “you are the insider threat if you keep sending me all these losers.”

“Alex Barrera!” she gasps, pursing her crimson lips. “Does this mean that Brad Harrison’s son won’t work out?”

“Forget about him, we’re moving on,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I have the perfect man for the job. The only thing is, he’s in Canada right now. I need some time to get him down here and we can lay all this to rest.”

“ You have another one for me? What are you trying to do, put me out of a job?”

“Never,” I grin. “I just know where to find the good ones.”

“We'll see,” she looks me up and down, “I just sent the offer to the candidate for the internship. If that pans out, then I might believe you.”

“How long can you give me?”

“The post closes next week, but I anticipate having to post it again, especially if you’re being particularly selective.” She shoots me a knowing look. “And Eric said he needs more manpower anyway. A skeleton crew's not going to cut it.”

Perfect. After thanking April and making her promise not to send any more candidates whose only credential is their high score in Grand Theft Auto , I head back to the command center to resume my day. I’ll convince Colson to come back, eventually, but I’ll let him sit with my offer for now. I have time, and that’s all that matters. I still have more important tasks to complete on a deadline, one of which is fast approaching.

I run through my mental checklist as I cross the front lobby, with its sleek stone facade and wall of windows reflecting the morning sun. Less than a month from now, I think to myself. In less than a month, Dallas Lutz will be under my roof and walking my halls where I can watch her much more closely.

Less than a month from now, I think to myself as I glance at the wall above the front desk, at the thick, angular black lettering beneath the Wolfsson logo.

●●●

I’m still not a stalker, I swear.

I just need to make sure Dallas is safe, and the only way to do that is to check on her physical whereabouts at strategic times throughout the day. Even with the GPS on Bowen’s truck, I’m not going a whole day without putting my eyes on her. Besides, I’ve been gone for six fucking years, she’d better be alright with me staring at her in rapture for the next 90 of them.

She should be leaving work soon, which is fortunate because I’m starving. I’m considering walking inside and ordering something. I’m sure they serve food here just like that other place where she downed 22 chicken wings in five minutes and became their wing queen. But I’m sure if I did, she’d recognize me immediately. So, in the meantime, I open my mail.

A few envelopes, mostly garbage, sit underneath a white bubble mailer folded tightly and securely taped shut. I flip open my knife and slit the tape before tearing open the flap. After slicing open another ball of bubble wrap, I find the tiny object I’m looking for. Encased in plastic and mounted in the middle of a square, unmarked piece of cardboard, it looks like a tiny button cell battery, but it’s so much more than that.

It’s insurance.

It’s the last piece of my plan I was waiting for.

I check my watch and, right on schedule, I see Dallas’s car emerge from the alleyway between the two brick buildings. Then I laugh to myself. Colson’s Civic. She must love that. And I’m sure I’ll hear all about it later.

I pull my Raptor out after her, only for a murdered-out Audi Q8 to cut me off right before I reach the next intersection. She continues on toward campus, past the park, and once she passes the cathedral on the corner across from the coffee shop she usually stops at, I decide that this has turned from a coincidence into a threat. Dallas has taken at least four turns through obscure campus neighborhoods, and the Q8 about three car lengths in front of me has taken every single one.

Hanging back, I watch Dallas turn into the driveway that leads to the gravel spaces behind the house. I come to a halt alongside the curb and flip off my lights before the Q8 stops further ahead and does the same. The street is quiet, dotted with light poles in various stages of demise. The Q8 is just out of the range of the one between us, obscuring the license plate and any chance of seeing much with the exorbitant level of window tint.

After another minute, I watch as a figure in a dark hoodie and jeans slowly exits the vehicle and just stands on the other side of the hood. The edge of his profile is obscured by his sweatshirt and he is otherwise relatively unremarkable. I don’t know why, but I check my GPS app, even though the vehicle is a far cry from Bowen’s F250. The blue dot indicates his vehicle is on the move, but far out of range, which doesn’t do much to explain who this other guy is, standing in the dark, staring at the glow of Dallas’s bedroom window. I may not know exactly who he is, but one thing’s for sure.

This has to be the second man.

I wince as my left pec starts spasming and a sharp, needling sensation radiates down my side. I flex my bicep and squeeze my arm against my ribcage as the adrenaline hits, fighting to maintain focus while I keep reminding myself of where I am. Eventually, it stops and everything returns to normal, with the chirps of crickets and the distant noises of the city.

The second man lingers behind the hood of the SUV, like he’s waiting for something. So, I wait, too. Just like I have countless times before, I watch in silence, from the shadows, and I wait to see whether he’s a threat or not. And that’s what I do for the next 10 minutes, watching to see if he’ll get back inside and drive away, or if he’ll take one step off that curb and right into the blade of my knife.

Because, just like I told Dallas long ago, I'll eliminate any other admirer she has, whether she knows about them or not.