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chapter 22: Taking Position

Indigo walked down the hallway of the Rehabilitation Center, icy fingers buried deep in her pockets. It was two days before Christmas, and the ward, a transitional care ward attached to the hospital, was practically bare. She glanced at the drooping ornaments, salvaged from holiday cast-offs, decorating the occasional door; their colors obscene against the dull beige of the rest of the building. Indigo peeked down one hallway – a dead end, blocked by a bucket and a mop – and then the other. Her nose flared at the antiseptic smell, stomach turning, and she began to walk again.

She didn’t like hospitals; they reminded her too much of her grandfather’s last days. She’d been ten when he’d had his second, and last, stroke. Sherry and Indigo had come home in time to visit him. The smells and sounds took her back to that day: his face grey-tinged on the pillow.

“There’s nothing they can do now, Indie Baby. It’s only a matter of time.”

She walked faster, forcing her mind to the present. Up ahead was the nurses’ station, a heavy-set woman with glasses behind the desk. She glanced up at the sound of Indigo’s footsteps. She had the pug-faced look of a bully, her arms moving to her hips as Indigo arrived.

“It’s a holiday,” the woman said sharply. “Visiting hours ended at four instead of at seven.”

Indigo forced a bright smile – that’s what people like this wanted: for the world to be something it wasn’t – and walked up to the counter.

“I’m so sorry for being late,” she said. “I was volunteering at the homeless shelter, and I couldn’t get out until now.”

It was a lie, of course. The real reason was that Indigo had delayed coming until the last second, but the woman’s face softened all the same.

“I knew the visiting hours had changed,” Indigo said bashfully, noting the holly wreath pin on the nurse’s scrubs, “but seeing how it was Christmas and all, I didn’t think I should leave them short-handed.”

“Oh my!” the nurse murmured. “Now that’s real good of you, honey.”

Indigo nodded, dropping her gaze in mock humility. She was almost in.

“And I know it’s past hours, but I was hoping I could just come in for a few minutes. I have a…” She paused, wondering what lie would cause the least amount of trouble. “… a friend here and I thought he could use a visit.” Her lashes fluttered downward in the perfect pretence of embarrassment. “It’s sort of a surprise, you know.”

The nurse’s face brightened and she reached out, patting Indigo’s arm.

“Of course you can go on in,” she clucked. “But is your friend an outpatient, or in the ward? Outpatients have all gone home by now.”

“He hasn’t been released yet,” Indigo answered, hoping she was right. “He’s full time, as far as I know.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to find out,” the nurse answered brightly. “Now, what’s this friend’s name?”

Indigo smiled.

“Elliot Baird.”

: : : : : : : : : :

Fran waited for the last of Sanger’s team to leave before she let her temper come to the surface. She strode forward, slapping the notes on the desk and spinning back around.

“You pull him now,” Fran sneered. “You’re going to lose your hold on King!”

Agent Sanger sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. They’d found another body in the river this morning: a male, badly burned, missing all his teeth and both hands. They DNA evidence had come back from the lab, but the only thing they knew for certain was that it wasn’t Marq Lopez.

“Commissioner,” Sanger said tiredly, “while I understand your focus on taking Fischer and his empire down, I need to remind you that every day we delay, more people are in danger.”

Her jaw clenched, lips pursing into a narrow line of red. She began pacing the office, her hands slashing through the air as she talked.

“And what would you have me do?” she snapped. “Have my agent break cover?”

“Given the body count,” he said, frowning, “we at least need to discuss it. The intel’s improving, but every day that we delay, the risk to our men in the field rises.”

“King’s worried,” Fran hissed. “He’s attacking at will.” She turned around, her fingers jabbing at Sanger in accusation. “He hacked into my house! Got into my life!”

Sanger’s expression shifted, the dogged patience replaced by worry.

“He’s trying to get to you, Fran. It’s too close to home, and with all due respect, Commissioner, I think you’re letting this become personal.” Fran began walking again, the circles growing tighter and tighter as she paced. “Now I don’t want to go over your head,” Sanger said, “but I have the authority to do it if I need to.”

She stopped next to him, eyes bright.

“Don’t!” she snarled. “That’d be a deadly mistake!”

“We need to pull our agents in,” Sanger insisted. “We have enough evidence to bring down ‘King’ Fischer.”

“Maybe,” Fran snarled, “but not to put him away forever.” She crossed her arms on her chest, her eyes narrowing. “Let me tell you this, Agent Sanger. If you start this fight, you’ve got to be ready to end it.”

“People are dying, Commissioner.”

“Because King is killing them!” she barked. “What we’re doing, right now, is the only way to stop it, and that means holding our course!”

She turned away, walking again, hands in fists. Sanger sighed.

“You’ve got three more days to get the evidence you want,” he said. “Then I take King in, whether I have to pull rank to do it or not.”

: : : : : : : : : :

Elliot heard the door to his room open softly, and he jumped. Panic – a close companion these last weeks – had his heart thudding painfully hard. His eyes widened at what he saw. A woman in her mid-twenties, stood next to the bed. She had long dark hair spilling out from under a red knit cap, her nose pink from cold.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you Elliot? I’m Indigo.”

Elliot nodded nervously. He didn’t trust anyone anymore. Not after what’d happened.

Indigo pulled a chair out from the wall, bringing it up next to the bed.

“Can I?” she asked.

Elliot shrugged and she sat down.

“You used to live with Jude Alden,” she said. “He was a friend of yours, right?”

Elliot glared at her. So it was this again. He’d been visited by at least five different people the last weeks in the hospital; even more since he’d been transferred to this floor. Some he actually thought might be trustworthy. Others, he didn’t have any doubt in his mind were the mob. His muteness, once a curse, was now a blessing. He never had to speak, and so he didn’t.

“Jude and I,” Indigo continued. “We um, we used to be… together.” Her voice broke on the last word. “He’s been missing for a couple weeks.”

Elliot made an inadvertent noise of surprise and Indigo moved closer.

“No one told you?”

Elliot shook his head. His mother had been inexplicably silent on the matter, and since Elliot refused to talk, there’d been no way to actually ask why Jude no longer visited. The last time he’d been at the hospital, Elliot had still been in the trauma ward.

“Look,” Indigo said. “I’m sorry to do this.” She pulled her hat off, staring at it in her hands instead of looking at him as she spoke. “I was at Jude’s apartment one night, and he got a call from Marq, and he left…” She glanced up. “And no one’s seen him since.”

“Wha…?” Elliot mumbled. He tried to form his mouth into a question, but his tongue, swollen and clumsy, wouldn’t work. He made a hissing sound, gesturing angrily to the side. Indigo stood up, peering across the cluttered cabinet.

“The iPad?” she asked.

“Unh-hunh,” Elliot mumbled.

She handed it to him, and Elliot flicked it on, fear making every second of delay feel like an hour. With the text program open, he began to type. His fingers were no longer splinted, but they were stiff, and unwieldy. Two stuck out at an odd angle. He tapped out his message, wincing as one finger began to throb.

Has anyone told the police?

He held the screen out to Indigo.

“Yes!” she said, eyes wide. “I told them last Monday. I’d texted Jude a couple times on the weekend, and never got an answer. In class on Monday, he didn’t come to hang out with me at break. After class, Lissa – his boss – stopped by to ask if I’d seen him. Jude hadn’t come to work that day either.” She chewed her lower lip. “So I popped by his apartment and it was still unlocked, the way I left it. So I went to the police.”

What did they say?

“They asked me to file a missing person’s report, and they told me they’d look into it.” Indigo frowned. “I called a couple times afterward, but no one would tell me anything other than the case was open. When I came by the apartment again, it’d been closed up. The super wouldn’t tell me anything at all.”

Elliot leaned toward Indigo, his hand gesturing in frustration. He struggled to speak, finally moving back to his tablet.

Does Marq know what happened?

“That’s the thing!” she cried. “Marq’s gone too. No one seems to know anything, and I just…” She took a ragged breath, blinking rapidly. “I need to know what’s going on!” Indigo leaned closer, her voice dropping. “That’s why I came here,” she said. “I… I need you to help me find him.”

Elliot nodded to the window, his words coming out in a confusing murmur. Indigo shook her head, and he typed another message, lifting it toward her. His face was white and terrified.

There’s a black car with tinted windows outside on the street. It’s been there since the day I came to the trauma ward. When I was moved to the Rehab Center, the car moved too. There are people watching me. They might be listening now.

Indigo stood up, her gaze going down to the snowy scene below. There, as Elliot had said, was the car. Indigo gasped in horror. Elliot reached out, bumping her with the tablet.

She stared at it for a moment, then reached down, and typed her question.

Who is it, Elliot?

Elliot shrugged.

I don’t know. But they’re watching me for a reason.

Indigo’s face crumpled. She reached out for the tablet again, with shaking fingers.

Jude’s dead, isn’t he?

Elliot stared at her words for a long time before answering.

I don’t know. I mean, Jude was messing around in something illegal. If he got picked up by the police, he’d get a call. He’d have a lawyer. You’d KNOW. Elliot’s fingers sat motionless on the tablet for a few seconds. With a sigh, he typed in the rest. That means he’s either dead, or someone’s got him.

He held it out to Indigo, and she surged up from the chair as if she’d been bitten. Her eyes were wild, her hand pressed up against her mouth again.

“My god, no!” she yelped, backing away.

She grabbed her hat off the chair, pulling it onto her head and sprinting toward the door. Elliot struggled to sit up, newly-knitted ribs twinging.

“Wha..?!” he shouted, the single word, almost clear.

“If that’s true,” Indigo hissed. “I know who has him!”

: : : : : : : : : :

Fran stood in her office, the phone pressed to her ear.

“What’s the news?” Nathan asked, his voice buzzing on the secure connection.

Fran had known Nathan since he’d first joined the undercover unit. It had taken him years to get into a position of trust, and the potential of losing him bothered Fran more than she cared to consider. But you didn’t abandon a plan at the last second. If they did that, every officer they’d ever lost to this cartel would have given their lives for nothing.

She’d seen too many of those in her time in charge.

“We’re getting close,” Fran replied. “Everyone’s in position. Are you ready to move when I tell you?”

“Ready and waiting, Commissioner,” he said. “You just give the word.”

Nathan’s voice had lost the scholarly inflection it’d once had. Now it had the guttural burr of the streets. Fran wondered if he’d ever really be the same after this. If any of them would.

“You have a plan to get out?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Nathan said with a cold laugh. “But when your guys come in, tell them to watch for the people around King. They’re just as guilty as he is.”

Fran’s eyes moved over to the open file on her desk. Images of Gina Cerritos, Rocco Cerritos, missing and presumed dead, Luca Brin and many others, cluttered the surface.

“Oh, we’ll be watching them,” she said bitterly. “There’s a power-shift brewing. Someone’s getting ready to make a move.”

“King doesn’t trust anyone,” Nathan warned. “You’ll need solid evidence to take him down.”

Fran’s jaw clenched, the argument with Sanger fresh in her mind.

“Don’t worry about my job,” she growled. “Just do your own and keep yourself alive!”

Nathan chuckled, and for just a second, he was the cadet she remembered.

“Yes, Commissioner. I’ll do my best.”

: : : : : : : : : :

Indigo wore a narrow black dress topped by a velvet jacket, a string of pearls around her throat. Her hair was loose and long, stiletto heels adding inches to her height. Luca had a thing for models, and that night as Indigo walked into The Vault, she knew she looked the part.

Heads turned as she crossed the room, her heavy purse swinging against her hip, the only thing detracting from her outfit. Indigo smiled and nodded at the doorman before heading toward the table at the back. She didn’t know for certain that Luca’d be there, but it was Friday night, and she figured it was as good a bet as any. Laughter rose from the secluded booth, and Indigo’s throat tightened. As she’d hoped, Luca and his suits were there, a gun and a pile of cash on the table between them.

“I thought it was you!” one of the waitresses called. Indigo waved, but didn’t slow, her eyes on Luca. “Great to see you, Indigo!” someone shouted.

Luca’s eyes jumped up at the sound of Indigo’s name. She came forward the last few steps, lips curling into a cat’s smile. Luca’s mouth opened, his gaze dropping down the length of her, and then back up. She raised an eyebrow as he caught her eyes, her attention entirely on him. Luca liked it that way.

“Indigo, baby,” he breathed. “You came!”

She swept her hair away from her face, angling her pelvis forward, hand on hips. Like the blush, and eyeliner, it was done for effect. Indigo’d practiced this in the mirror for hours when she’d first come to work at the club. Everything was about sex, and she excelled at the sale of it.

“I told you I would,” she said with a petulant moue, “and I did.” She reached out, straightening Luca’s collar. “I had to wait ‘til I had a little time on my hands.” She nodded to the booth. “May I? Or are you boys too busy?”

“Of course you can sit down!” He shoved sideways and she slid in next to him. “I’m just surprised to see you tonight.”

“Didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you,” Indigo purred.

Her fingers trailed down the line of his shoulder, and he caught her hand, biting the pad of her thumb. Indigo tugged just enough that he knew she wanted to get away. When he released her, she leaned closer. Luca liked the chase, and she needed him to want her tonight.

“I’d never forget you,” he growled. “You know that.”

Under the tablecloth, his hand slid up her leg, squeezing just a little too hard. Indigo giggled and squirmed, fighting a wave of revulsion. ‘Don’t think about Rocco,’ her mind screamed. ‘Think about Jude!’ She glanced at the men at the table; they were staring at the display, faces flushed with alcohol and anticipation. Indigo leaned closer to Luca, her hand brushing over his shoulders as she put her mouth to his ear.

“Any chance we could go someplace a little more… private?”

Luca groaned as his fingers slid past the edge of her dress and higher, kneading her inner thigh.

“Gimme a minute,” he grunted.

Luca reached out, lifting the gun from the table and dropping it into his pocket. With the other hand, he scraped up the cash, tucking it inside his lapel. Indigo stood, her body strung taut with anxiety. Her eyes moved around the group, pausing on each man. The only one who held her gaze was Patel. Furious, he glared at her until her gaze moved on.

“You ready?” Luca asked.

Indigo wiped her sweaty hands, pretending to be smoothing out her dress.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she drawled, taking his proffered arm.

If anyone knew where Jude Alden was, it’d be Luca.