The Fix Is In (Torus Intercession 4)

He was right. His part in the unfolding drama began and ended with a photograph. Now that the cat was out of the bag, whatever was going to unfold would with Brasher and his people, the state police and the DEA. I wasn’t going to wait and see if the FBI showed up or not. It was stupid for Benji to remain in Rune. He was actually putting Sian and Delly in peril with his proximity, so I came to the only conclusion possible. Benji and I needed to go.

I didn’t tell anyone. I got Benji and his clothes in the car, along with my duffel that was unscathed, said good night to Brasher, and drove away. No one asked me where I was going, so I didn’t have to lie. I drove right out of town, stopping only to drop the food we bought at a local shelter.

“Will we get in trouble for leaving?” he asked, concerned, hand on my thigh as I drove.

“You’re a hero,” I reminded him. “Without you, no one would even know they were missing an agent.”

“Yes, but shouldn’t I be there to answer questions?”

“You’ve already answered everything. You’ve explained everything you know. It’s like you were saying earlier, why in the world would anyone be interested in you at all anymore?”

He nodded.

It made all the sense in the world before the person in your photograph was identified, as Caleb Harrison. Even if only the fake identity had been discovered, still he would have been a missing person. As an apparition, your photo could be brushed off.

“You can answer questions over the phone,” I reminded him. “And it’s not necessary for you to be there tomorrow to look for body parts in the woods.”

“Oh God, did you have to say it like that?”

“Well, that’s what it is,” I replied blandly. “Think about it. No one is looking to find a live man. They’re looking for remains.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“And there’s no reason for you to have to be out there with everyone else. It’s not necessary. You’ve done enough. We’re going to leave it to the law-enforcement folks with the three-letter initials to bring this one home.”

He was quiet for several minutes, and there was only the ever-present sound of the rain and the hum of the tires on the road.

“You won’t get in trouble for taking me out of town, will you?”

“I’m a private citizen,” I told him, taking his hand in mine. “I can do what I want. It’s why Jared Colter created Torus to begin with. He specifically didn’t want to answer to anyone ever again.”

“It sounds like there’s a story there.”

“I’m sure there is, but that’s about as much as I know,” I told him. “Jared Colter is a private man. That’s why none of us know what’s going on with him and Owen.”

“Him and Owen?”

I understood why he took the bait and changed the subject. I would too. Far more diverting to discuss my boss and his maybe ward than us leaving town.

On the way to the airport, we stopped and bought Benji a large duffel, transferred everything from all the bags to that, zipped it up, and then drove to the terminal to drop off the car. The tram was crowded and we had to stand, and when the driver had to stop hard, lots of people bumped into others. When Benji knocked against me, I didn’t move, rock solid on my feet, far too strong to be jostled.

He melted into me, arms wrapped around my back, his head on my chest.

“Awww,” a woman near us cooed.

Benji gave her a luminous smile, content to stay where he was.

I was good as well.

Having texted Owen to get me tickets for Chicago since I would be multitasking, driving in the rain as well as soothing Benji, I wasn’t surprised that the tickets were for earlier than the red-eye. They were also for first class, which I appreciated. As big as I was, sitting anywhere else was problematic. People saw me walking down the aisle and prayed they weren’t sharing a row with me. No one wanted my shoulders or my biceps blocking out their view.

“Owen sounds like a really handy guy to have around,” Benji murmured as we checked his and my duffels in at the ticket counter.

“He has his moments,” I grumbled.

I was worried about the takeoff and landing without my mother’s cookies along, but I realized that my relief, once we were through security, was so overwhelming that I was feeling a wave of weariness. Normally I didn’t miss any sleep, but I had really only dozed at Benji’s, since there was no alarm there and his safety had fallen solely to me.

“What was the locked case inside your duffel about?” he asked me.

“You didn’t see me put my gun in that?”