Deena Riordan: Indelible Ink Part 17

Above her, floorboards creaked in what must have been the living room.

"Deena Riordan? This is the FBI... er... the FEI."

Not this again, Deena thought. Another fake set of law enforcement? What the h.e.l.l was the FEI? She looked down a narrow pa.s.sage just as wide as the panel she'd moved. She couldn't tell how far back it went.

"Miss Riordan? This is Agents Garrett and Pelligrino with the FEI. If you're here, please identify yourself."

Deena looked up and considered trying to shoot them through the floor, but that wouldn't fit in with her whole "baby steps" thing to becoming a better person. After all, it was possible that the people upstairs were actual agents and killing them would be wrong. It was a long time since that thought had crossed her mind. Someone might be innocent and worth saving.

Deena reached into the pa.s.sage and took a couple of steps forward. The wall wasn't nearly as far as she thought. On the other side was a set of metal rungs that led upward. Deena a.s.sumed it was a secret exit to the back lawn.

"Deena? This is Agent Pelligrino. We're aware of your situation." It was a female voice this time. "We'd like to help."

Deena opened some boxes she found in the corner, but they were all empty. "What situation is that?" Deena said it out loud almost by accident. She'd been mulling over her long list of problems, crimes and situations from the last few years. Were they talking about the latest situation? The developer in Tuscon that Deena had killed last year? Did they mean the car that ended up in Lake Michigan with a missing lawyer in it? They'd obviously needed to be more specific.

There was more creaking from upstairs as the man, Garrett, spoke again. "Look. I think we're aware of most of your history. We know about Marsh and the work you've done for him. We're also aware of the power you have. The Ink... uh... dark gift... or whatever you want to call it?"

Dark gift? Who had this guy been talking to? Deena wondered. "Sure. I have a gift let's call it. What about it?"

There was another creak from the floor above her. "We know how it's out of your control," Pel said.

"How about you just stand where you are and talk to me," Deena said. The longer she could keep them upstairs, the more time she had to figure out her next move. In the past, she probably wouldn't have given a second thought to fighting and possibly killing someone in law enforcement. Things were different now. She was trying hard not to be one of those stupid people she made fun of. "Sounds like you know a lot about me. Who've you been talking to?"

"The government detained a man named Leonard with the same sort of powers as you," Garrett said. "He had some interesting information for us on his condition. We know that your behavior is out of your control."

The name didn't ring any bells for Deena, and she'd never met anyone else with her powers before. "Go on."

"He talked about his thing hijacking his body and making him do what he was told," Pel said. "He said it was like being trapped in his body with no say in what he did. Is that how it is for you?"

Marsh's orders had been the catalyst for everything she'd done throughout the last decade and no matter how she'd fought it, she couldn't stop herself from doing the horrible things he'd told her to do. She'd loved it on some level. She'd loved making him happy. "Something like that."

"Marsh? Was it his orders you had to follow?"

Deena cautiously walked back toward the stairs. "Look. Cut to the chase. You want to help me? How?" In the years that Deena had been working for Marsh, no one had ever offered to help her. No one had suggested what she was doing was wrong.

Except her sister. Harper had been terrified in the early months and years of what they were doing. She didn't have the benefit of the Shadow Energy running through her and numbing her to the horrible things she was doing.

46.

Pel stood next to Garrett at the end of the hallway, pointing her gun in the direction of Deena's voice. "What happened here, Deena?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

Garrett examined the bodies on the floor near the bathroom. It was a b.l.o.o.d.y mess and it was obvious that Deena had gotten the better of them. From the bullet holes in the walls, Garrett was surprised that the girl had walked away from the fight. But, if everything he'd heard about Deena was true, he imagined she could handle herself.

Deena went silent.

"Please answer me, are you OK? Do you need medical attention?" Pel asked.

Garrett pointed to Pel and motioned for her to keep talking. He felt Pel might have more luck keeping the girl engaged. She and might trust a woman more than a man in a hostile situation.

"Are there more attackers in the house, Deena? We're walking around up here to make sure no one is going to take us by surprise. Are there more wherever you are?" Pel looked around the living room but her gaze quickly came back to Garrett.

It took a moment, but the girl finally responded. "No," Deena said. "I think that's it."

Garrett stood still, not wanting to rile Deena up. If she wanted them to stay still, they'd do it, at least for a little while. He was actually surprised that she'd decided to speak to him. He took it as a good sign.

Crouching just outside the bathroom, he took stock of the dead men and the rest of the scene there. The bits of sink and tile were overrun with blood that flowed easily from the men there. He didn't recognize any of them, but he imagined them to be more of Marsh's goons. He'd received a report from the train that at least one of the men found there was confirmed as a "foot soldier" for the organization.

It took him a minute, but Garrett noticed that the hole on the far wall was deeper than it should be. In the dim light of the room, he noticed a faint glow on the other side of the wall. He pointed it out to Pel, but said nothing.

"So, what is the grand plan here? If you know my situation, you know I have to go help my sister. Marsh has her. I would hope you at least know that," Deena said.

"We know, Deena." Pel replied. "We should have a warrant any minute and our task force will go in and get Harper. Harper will be fine."

Garrett liked how Pel had begun to work Deena and Harper's names into the conversation. It implied that they cared and personalized the conversation. Hopefully it was doing something to ease Deena's fears about trusting the agents. However, they had a long way to go before the girl walked out the door with them.

"No. Marsh will worm his way out of it. He'll get out before you can do a thing about it and my sister will die," Deena said.

Pel looked at Garrett but he had no other angle for his fellow agent. They had to wing it and hope to talk Deena into surrendering somehow.

"Look. You have to know that if you go in there that Marsh is going to kill you both. You just can't do this alone," Pel shrugged to Garrett.

"That's what you went with? You're going to die anyway?" Garrett whispered.

"You didn't seem to have any other ideas," Pel responded quietly.

"Listen, you want me to surrender peacefully? We do things my way, and once my sister is safe, I'll do whatever you ask. You help me. I'll surrender no problem and do what you want. I just want my sister to be OK. I got her into this."

"I don't know if we can do that. We want your sister to be safe, too. But you're both wanted criminals. We know you have been doing this work against your will, but we still need to prove that. And your sister..." Pel stopped.

Garrett thought about the bus bombing that Harper was responsible for and wondered if Deena had even heard about it. There was no way that Harper was walking away from the situation unscathed, a.s.suming she lived. At the very least, Deena had the Shadow Energy to blame for what she'd done. As far as he knew, Harper had no such excuse.

47.

"Jesus. Looks like a couple of feds," Brandt said. "Getting awfully crowded in that little house."

Morgan nodded without meaning to. He'd guess the man and woman were federal agents, just by their clothes and the way they approached the house. Their suits were tasteful, but off the rack. He watched as they walked together, checking out the side of the house, watching each other's backs and moving strategically.

"A girl? That one agent is a girl," Mr. Hector said. "You like killing girls, don't you? How exciting. Hope the man doesn't give you too much trouble, though. He looks like he might work out."

"Are you implying that I can't handle men?" Morgan didn't want to show weakness and hated that he let the apparitions get a reaction from him. "I've killed plenty of men."

"From a distance."

"I've killed men with my bare hands. Just because I prefer to do it from a distance, doesn't mean s.h.i.+t," Morgan said.

"Just sayin'."

"Well stop saying it." His orders were to catch or kill Deena Riordan. There was nothing that suggested anyone from the federal government. If he killed her with them present, his escape could become problematic. They would pursue him and surely an unwanted conflict would ensue.

Brandt didn't allow a silence to set in. "You're not worried about a couple more dead people are you? Come on. You're right at the finish line. Kill them all and you'll have everything. You'll be Marsh's right hand man, with all the work you ever want. h.e.l.l, he may even move you out of the field and into the office with him," Brandt said. He was leaning against the side of the treehouse smoking a thick, noxious cigar. "You'd be in line to take over when he leaves the organization."

Nadine spoke up from the other side of the treehouse, but Morgan didn't turn to see her. "Then, you can get all the girls you want. And they'll have to do all the kinky s.h.i.+t you want them to."

"What kind of stuff are we talking about?" Brandt asked.

48.

That wasn't the answer Deena had hoped for. She hadn't really antic.i.p.ated the agents would accept her offer, even though she meant it. She was ready to put it all behind her and pay for what she'd done, but she couldn't leave Harper. Not after all she'd done to try to protect Deena. Not after Deena had dragged her into this h.e.l.l.

"Look. Get me to Marsh's office before that warrant gets served and I'll surrender to the agents when they show up. Both of us will. Harper and I will do it willingly. It'll save us all a whole lot of pain and headache," Deena said. If she didn't make some sort of a deal with the agents, Deena knew she'd be hounded the rest of the way to the city and she just didn't need more distractions. She was being honest about turning herself over. No matter what abilities she had, she couldn't see putting Harper through more time running away and hiding. The question was whether her sister would feel the same.

"We can't make that deal," Pel said. "You know we can't do that without causing all kinds of problems for ourselves. That kind of thing is way over our heads."

"Then are you going to chase me some more? Who has time for that? Get me to the city and give me a head start." Deena checked the pistol in her waistband. She didn't need one. Not right now. But there would come a time, when she got to Marsh's place, where she'd have to decide whether she was going to go back to using her powers or keep them in check. So far, that hadn't worked. They'd emerged no matter what.

"I'm putting my gun down and coming out to join you. Let's talk about this." Deena put the gun on the steps and began to cautiously make her way up toward the top. "I'm coming out of a door behind the closet and I don't have a weapon." Not a gun, at least.

Deena fiddled with a latch at the top of the stairs and the door swung in. She found herself inside their hall closet. She turned around and closed the door and examined it. Unless you knew what to look for, you'd never see that there was a secret door there. She turned and opened the closet door slowly. Outside, two people in dark suits pointed guns at her. "Agents Pelligrino and Garrett, I'm a.s.suming?"

"Turn around," Garrett said.

"There's no need for this." Deena twirled slowly for the agents to prove that she didn't have another weapon of any sort. "I left my gun back there, like I said."

Garrett pulled out his handcuffs and looked at them for a moment. It seemed he wasn't sure what to do next.

"Are those really necessary? I mean it's not like you can hold someone with my power anyway," Deena said. She didn't know if she could escape from cuffs or not, but she figured they didn't know it either.

"We have a suspect back at the office that would beg to differ with you. He's been incarcerated for a year or so." Agent Garrett stepped forward and closed the cuffs on one of Deena's hands then moved it to her back to attach it to the other arm.

"I don't know who you have, but you probably don't have him quite as tight as you think you do. Not if he has my power." The more Deena thought about it, it seemed like it would be easy to break the restraints if she wanted, if she just let the Shadow Energy run wild like it did back on the train, but she knew they'd never cooperate if she didn't lull them into thinking she was under control.

Once she was cuffed, Deena saw both agents visibly relax. She watched as Pel moved down the hall, checking out the scene in the bathroom, and then disappearing into the bedrooms. When she stuck her head back out she said, "No more bodies or lurkers that I can find. Let's call Rivers and let him know what's going on. I'm sure he can send a team out to go over the whole place more thoroughly. But I'd like to suggest we hit the road again." She crouched down and started going through the pockets of the men in the crowded hall.

Garrett directed Deena to the living room and sat her down on the couch. "Wait here," Garrett headed for the kitchen before reappearing with a wet handkerchief to wipe off Deena's hands. "Are you all right? You never really said." He looked at her torn s.h.i.+rt and pants.

"Most of the blood there isn't mine, I'm fine." Deena didn't bother to say she'd been recently shot on the train. It had already healed and didn't even ache anymore.

Pel pulled a water bottle out and held it up to Deena's lips. "Drink. You look awful."

Deena drank the water and stood up. "Thanks and everything. But you're right. We need to move before more of these guys crawl out of the woodwork. If you found me, they can find me." Deena held her hands up as best she could. "And I don't want to be all chained up if someone comes shooting at us, OK?"

Deena watched as Garrett opened the door to let her walk out. "Let's get moving, then. We aren't really equipped to fight a bunch of thugs right now."

Deena stood and followed. "Give me the keys. I'll drive."

Pel turned and looked at Deena. "That's OK. I'll do it. Thanks for the offer."

"Yeah. She can sit in back with me and we'll talk," Garrett said.

"Let's just get out of here. Time is running in short supply here," Deena said. "Especially for Harper."

49.

Deena at 18 the first time around Harper smacked Deena on the back of the head as she walked past. "Get up. You've gotta be downstairs in ten."

"I don't want to train anymore," Deena said, swinging her leg over the arm of the couch. "I'm tired." She'd been up late the night before, watching movies. They'd managed to finally afford basic cable and Deena wasn't about to waste a moment of it.

"This is your s.h.i.+t. You wanted to do this. If you p.i.s.s off Marsh now, there's no telling what will happen." Harper went through this every morning since they started working for Marsh. Harper got up at five, gathered things together and pulled the covers off of Deena, screaming at her to get up. Deena would immediately bury her head under her pillows and sigh. Harper would try again every ten minutes until six or so. At that point, it was always time to fight dirty. "We could have just stayed at the diner."

"Not after the robbery."

"And whose fault was that?"

"You act like I have some kind of control over this. I don't. It just happens," Deena said. She'd found she could control it to a point. Her thoughts were a direction for the power, like a suggestion.

"Wah. Some of us have to make it without that c.r.a.p. Let's go. We have to be downstairs at this warehouse at six-thirty." Harper set a bag on the table. "I packed your gym bag, extra clothes, a snack. You're ready to go. I don't know exactly what my role is going to be in all of this, but I'm thrilled to be your valet. To no end."

"Seriously? You packed me a snack for our first day of work with the mobster? Christ, you're not my mom," Deena said. "I can do it myself."