Page 6 of The Pakhan

She nodded and slumped visibly. “I know it’s been a while and my visit was unexpected, but you were the only person I could turn to.”

Caroline Randall was my biological daughter Sofiya’s best friend and had been since elementary school. Daniella had joined their little pack, the three calling themselves the musketeers. They were unexpected friends, Caroline coming from Fortune 100 royalty, her father a giant in the computer chip profession. I hadn’t seen her in at least three years, maybe four. Back then she’d been a cute, plump girl her father was still trying to mold into a carbon copy of himself. It was apparent the son of a bitch had failed.

However, I was floored by how much she’d changed. She was definitely all woman now.

“What happened?”

“Some men. They um… attacked me in my apartment.”

I sensed there was a hell of a lot more to the story. The fact she was here, asking for my help, likely meant she’d gotten herself into the middle of something that was out of her league.

“Are you okay?” I asked, motioning for her to come closer.

“Yeah, I think so. I got one of the guys with my trusty Louisville slugger. The fuck won’t walk again.” She cracked the bat against her hand, tentatively approaching.

“Sit down. I’ll get you a drink. Somehow, I think you need it.” I eyed the bat, trying to keep from laughing. It was as if she’d taken a knife to a gunfight but apparently, she had an excellent aim.

“I’ll get your nice furniture wet.”

I chuckled as I thought about my earlier concerns regarding Freddie’s body. “I think I can handle that. Vodka? Wine?”

“Whiskey if you have it.”

Whiskey. Things had changed. Hell, I remembered when she and Sofiya had been running through the house, dripping grape soda as they screamed out whatever pop song was popular at the time. I’d even bounced her on my knee more than once. Shit. The most inappropriate thoughts suddenly rushed into the forefront of my mind.

She sat down and she was close enough I could smell the fear resonating off her skin, holding the bat as if it was a lifeline. What the fuck had she gotten herself in the middle of? I refreshed my drink, pouring her one. As I approached, she lifted her head to stare into my eyes. Her eyes had always been the bluest I’d ever seen. My mother would call them soulful eyes.

Even her lower lip was quivering.

I sat down on the chair near her, trying to give her space. With my daughter being in Italy on a shopping trip with Daniella, I doubted she knew what was happening with her friend. After they’d graduated college, both had gone their separate ways. I always found it interesting that Caroline was a couple of years younger, skipping a couple of grades over the years in school. She was considered brilliant by anyone’s standards.

Which is why this surprised the hell out of me.

“Okay, Caroline. You need to tell me what’s going on. And put the bat down. No one is going to hurt you inside my house.”

She took a swallow of her drink, her entire arm shaking as she lowered the weapon to the floor. The way she wrung her hands was disturbing. “Some very bad men are after me. I barely got away.”

I’m not certain what I expected but that wasn’t it. “Bad men? Why don’t you explain.”

Caroline needed to use both hands to bring the heavy tumbler to her lips this time. The bat remained by her side, obviously her only weapon. I’d always felt a soft spot for the girl since her parents had rarely bothered to notice how much time she was spending at my house.

I was a busy man, working twelve-hour days often seven days a week, but I’d done my best to share my daughters’ lives and celebrations with them. Birthdays. Graduations. Holidays. They were big deals in this house. At least there was something decent about me.

“Um, my work was discovered and they came after me in my apartment. I’m certain it’s been trashed, my computers smashed.”

“You’re a software engineer. Why would bad men be after you?”

She laughed nervously. “I’m a glorified coffee girl for a chauvinistic son of bitch who still lives in the dark ages.”

It would seem the once quiet, demure girl had changed in more than just her appearance. “Then what are you talking about?”

A warm flush crept across her face and she wiped her mouth with one of the towels, still just as nervous as when she’d walked in.

“I have a second job. I discover information on people for money.”

It took me a few seconds to realize what she was talking about. “You’re a hacker.”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’ before almost swigging back the entire drink. “I’m careful. Always. I wouldn’t be the Pink Flamingo if I wasn’t one of the best at what I do. I’m sought after, highly respected on the dark web. There are memes made with flamingos on them because of my work.” She was pressing her index finger against her chest as if trying to convince herself.

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