Page 105 of Jessica, Not Her Real Name
Three days ago.
A lifetime ago.
* * *
The sound of his phone buzzing on his nightstand had woken him up.
Unknown number.
Kylie.
He’d sighed and sat up in bed. The glowing red digits of his clock floated in midair through the darkness. 2.07 AM.
Dragging a hand down his face, he’d wondered what fresh hell she was going to rain down upon him this time.
Then he’d cleared his throat and taken the call. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Ryan Inglis speaking.”
Nothing from the other end of the line. It was an ominous silence, muffled and thick with foreboding.
Ryan had frowned, then added, “Kylie, is that you?”
“Well, shit.” The voice was male, and it sounded coarse and laced with menace. “The bitch was telling the truth. You are some fancy federal cop.”
Ryan had swung his legs out of bed. The man on the other end seemed to be waiting for him to respond. So, he’d said nothing.
“Don’t you wanna know how your wife’s doing? I got her right here with me.” Still, he’d said nothing. Just gripped the phone with damp fingers.
The man had laughed. Like he’d been deriving some sick glee from Ryan’s attempt to stonewall him.
There’d been a muffled sound, then a woman’s gasp. Kylie’s voice, in a desperate tone, had come on the line. “Ryan, please, he’s?—”
He’d heard another indistinct sound, then the man’s chuckle again. “She’s fine, she’s fine. I found her shooting up on my front step. I invited her in, like you do, and we got to talking.”
The nasty way he’d said it had made Ryan think there was no way Kylie had gone into this guy’s house of her own volition.
“She said her name’s Addison, so I guess that was a lie.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched. Kylie used aliases when she wasn’t sober, when she didn’t want to be found by the people in her life that cared about her.
“She told me you was a U.S. marshal. And I thought, shit, I know about you guys. You’re stone-cold sons of bitches. Man hunters.”
Ryan had stared at the wall straight ahead of him. Light from the street outside was filtering through the blinds and casting strange shadows. “What do you want?”
The man had inhaled deeply, like he’d needed to think about it. Like he’d just been offered three wishes and didn’t want to waste a single one of them. Then he’d said, “Eleven years ago, your people made a girl disappear. A girl that fucked my life up, big time. I want you to find her for me.”
Ryan swallowed hard but said nothing. The silence drew out long and taut. Finally, Ryan cleared his throat and said, “I can’t do that.”
“Oh, really?” the voice said. “Because I can make people disappear too, Mr. Marshal. I’m a motherfucking magician at it. I can make it so the only thing they find of your wife are her pretty green eyes. I’ll dig ‘em both out and leave ‘em for you as a little memento.”
Ryan’s pulse sounded like a drumbeat in his ears. “I just said, I can’t do it. It doesn’t work like that. WITSEC is a closed loop. I can’t access that kind of information, even if I wanted to.”
Another pause, filled only with the man’s raspy breathing and the dull thud of Ryan’s heartbeat in his ears. Then the man had spoken again, and he’d lost some of his joviality. “Don’t bullshit me, man. I used to be in the army. Special Ops. I know how the fucking system works, alright. I know that you can find out anything if you really want to. If there’s a will, there’s a way, right? And I’d have thought keeping your wife’s head attached to her body would have been a pretty fucking compelling reason to find a way.” There was a pause, then Ryan had heard the unmistakable sound of a power tool. A buzz saw. “But maybe I’m wrong.”
Ryan’s blood seemed to have stalled in his veins. He wasn’t sure he could feel his heart beating anymore. All he’d been able to feel was the phone pressing against his ear and the pain in his jaw from gritting his teeth. “Alright. I’ll do it. Whoever you’re trying to find, I’ll find her.”
The buzz saw had gone quiet. Then the voice came back on the line and told him the name of the woman he wanted located. “Text this number everything you find out,” he’d said. “Involve anyone else, and she’s dead. You have until midday tomorrow.”
It had taken a great deal of effort, but Ryan had kept his voice low and calm. “If you hurt Kylie, I can promise you there’s one person I will find. You.”
