“Same-same, hoarding away.” It isn’t a lie. Sheisthe same as always. Still filling her house with any piece of junk she can get her hands on, acting like she’s doing me a favor by opening the door when I visit, getting annoyed that I ask her questions and take an interest in her wellbeing.
“Anything I can do to help?” Jonah offers. I know he means well, but how am I supposed to tell him she won’t even let me get comfortable on the only free chair in her kitchen before kicking me out. I haven’t spent longer than thirty minutes in my childhood home since I turned eighteen, and not for lack of trying.
“Nah, I’ve got it under control.” I blow his offer off with false assurance and an ease to my tone that I don’t really feel.
I’ve become a master of pretending the home situation may be complicated but generally okay. No one questioned when I needed a couch to crash on or when I asked to hole up in their spare room on the rare occasion I was on leave. No one doubted that I was anything other than dedicated to my team when I opted to stay in Coronado over a home visit.
The trick is giving away bits and pieces of imperfection, like the hoarding. It supplies people with a way to self-explain, so they don’t ask or prod.
“Okay. Well, if anything changes, I’m here.”
“I know.” I really do, and I’m more grateful for the family Jonah and Andrew are to me than I could ever put into words.
“Just…” Jonah sighs, and I hear his fingers tap against his desk as he thinks, probably strategizing the next words out of his mouth. “Just try to get along with Maddie, okay?”
“Joe, come on. Who saw your potential the second you landed on his team and took you under his wing?”
“You did.”
“Who pushed it with the higher ranks that you go to Fort Bragg despite how young you were?”
“You did.”
“Who made sure you got pulled back under his command, you and Atkins both?”
“You, Commander. All you.” Jonah’s tone sounds as if he may also be rolling his eyes at me, but in a fond way, I’d like to believe.
“Ialwaysget the job done,” I remind myself as much as I remind him. “And we’re family, me, you, and Andrew.” I throw a few bills on the table, deciding that a visit to my old gym will do me some good, help clear my head. “Which means Maddie is family. Sure, sometimes family is infuriatingly arrogant and self-absorbed, but you always have their back.”
“You’re a good man, Commander Abernathy,” Jonah says in a mockingly serious tone.
“That’s true,” I reply with a grin. “I’ll touch base tomorrow.”
* * *
The next day I take it easy, jogging through Wicker Park and meeting some old friends for coffee. Going through the motions in case anyone is looking, so this seems like a run-of-the-mill hometown visit.
Part of me knows I should go to my mom’s house again. Once in the two weeks I’ve been in the city to establish my cover story doesn’t cut it. Instead, I hit my old ring down near South Loop again, trying to burn through the frustration of knowing she’d just kick me out less than half an hour later without even trying to make an excuse.
“Doesn’t matter why. This house isn’t yours until I die. So if I say visit’s over, then visit is goddamn over. Now get off my property.”
No amount of punching it out is going to makethatone any better.
Four hours later, I’m sitting on the bed of my sublet apartment in nothing but a towel, still damp from my shower and staring at my phone before decisively typing“Beer?”and hitting send, heart pounding while I wait for Maddie to reply.
The minutes tick by, and all the while, I wonder if maybe I read the situation wrong. She didn’t like my presence here, wasn’t enthusiastic about my help, but as solid and assured as she tries to seem, Maddieisscared, and for good reason.
She’s a smart woman. She knows she’s in way over her head with Harlow. I suspect the sense of helplessness drives her even more than she’s naturally driven. The need to know she can bring down a sophisticated criminal mastermind is fueling her determination to push herself.
Maddie’s stubborn and ambitious, but I get the sense she’s also aware of her limitations. So, I doubt she skipped town just because of me.
I busy myself with files on Harlow while waiting for Maddie to answer my text, trying to see the information I’ve read a million times before from different perspectives. I keep hoping something I’ve missed will jump off the page.
Most intel indicates Harlow is a man, but intel can be wrong. I’ve been on the other end of it, seen the consequences of bad info, so I don’t assume anything that isn’t a solidly proven fact.
The only point all agencies are in agreement on is that Daniel Harlow is an alias, nothing more than a fake persona created as a smoke. It inspires fear and respect. Harlow is essentially a ghost, a nameless, faceless entity that is on the most wanted list of every agency in the world, head of one of the most prolific international crime organizations out there.
He does it all, or used to, at least. Up until ten years ago, Harlow had his hands deep into human trafficking—women, men, children—it was his largest profit avenue. Then he cut those operations cold turkey, promptly cutting back on all other non-digital operations as well.