Indelible Ink (23 page)

63

Morgan squinted into the sighting scope and watched the scene unfold in the office 1.3 miles away. He watched the sisters pace back and forth in front of Marsh as he sat at his desk. They all periodically looked over at the office door, and Morgan had to wonder how many of the crime boss’s minions were trying to bust in.

Once the feds took her away in their car, Morgan assumed she was going to jail and not coming back. Still, here she was.

He was positive that he had managed to at least shoot the little witch girl in the arm. Still, here she was.

Deena was consistently defying Morgan’s expectations and it was getting on his nerves.

“Come on, you’ve got to admit this is the perfect opportunity to get in good with Marsh,” Brandt said. “He’s stuck, no one else is coming through for him. His guards are incompetent. Imagine the reward. He wants them gone and you can make that happen, no problem.”

Morgan stepped away from the window and looked past Brandt around the empty office. No one would bother him, if he finished before the others showed up.

He flipped open the battered old suitcase and began piecing together his rifle. He stared out the window at the building that housed Marsh’s office as he worked. The weapon nearly put itself together, parts slid into place from rote memory, not requiring his actual attention. He could feel the cold metal form into the gun, smell the welcome scent of oil. Without magnification, he could only see the distant building, not the people inside.

“So we’re doing this again?” Mr. Hector was leaning on the suitcase the next time Morgan looked back. “Is this a regular thing now? He looked around the room. Where’s everyone else?” He nodded at Brandt and scowled a bit. Brandt looked away.

Once he’d completed the weapon, Morgan flipped down the tripod and planted it on the windowsill. He put his shoulder to the stock and peered through the lens. He found the giant window of Marsh’s office easily. He zoomed in on the figures still standing much as he’d left them, still talking.

“You know what he wants you to do,” Brandt said. “He told you to bring her back, or kill her. And her sister. Now is the best time to do that. Nothing is stopping you.”

“Ahem,” the little teddy bear cleared his throat.

Brandt looked down. “You’re going to stop him?” The man chuckled.

“Here’s the glitch in your logic, Brandt.” Morgan didn’t move away from the gun. “He wanted me to make sure she came back, and she’s back.”

“Semantics. He wanted you to bring her back into the fold, back to work. She obviously isn’t planning on working for Marsh again.”

Morgan turned at the sound of footsteps in the lobby of the office. He paused, tempted to pull the pistol under his shirt. He quickly realized it was no one who could affect his work here and turned back to the window.

“You don’t think I can stop you?” his mother asked.

“Great. The whole damn peanut gallery’s going to make an appearance,” Brandt said.

Morgan adjusted the scope for an even closer view, making Deena’s head fill the entire circle. He could see the scratches and cuts on her face and neck in great detail.

“She doesn’t deserve this Morgie,” his mother said. “She’s got a second chance here and you can’t stop that. You’re telling me you never wanted to start over?”

“This
is
him starting over, bitch.” Brandt’s voice was gruff and louder than it needed to be. Morgan looked away from his scope long enough to see Brandt get in his mother’s face. “He was a milquetoast until I plucked him out of the sewer you raised him in and made something of him.”

Another voice drifted in from the outer office. “That’s crap. He was a pussy in college when I met him and I walked all over him until the day I walked out.” Nadine said. “So whenever you made him into the magical love god we see today, it was way after that.”

“I meant it metaphorically, whore. I meant that I pulled him out of the sewer where he was raised, metaphorically. Christ, did you actually graduate from that college, or was it too hard to study when you were on your knees all the time?” Brandt turned his attention from Morgan’s mother to the voice in the hall.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The monkey with the cymbals rolled in a circle and bared its teeth at Brandt. “Jackass!” It whirled around again.

“I don’t think there’s really any need for name calling,” Morgan’s mother said. “We all want to make our point, let’s just be civil about it.”

Morgan tried to ignore them, tried to concentrate on the scene unfolding through his lens. He needed to clear his head and figure out the best way to handle this. He wanted Marsh’s approval and the added prestige of saving his life. Not to mention what killing that witch would do to his reputation.

“Aw, Morgan. She’s a magical being, she needs to live free and roam the earth happy. Let her go and give me a hug.” Mr. Hector approached with his arms wide.

“No!” Brandt stepped forward and kicked Mr. Hector hard enough for the little doll to go flying across the room. “That bitch isn’t magic, she’s evil. She’s evil and if you don’t stop her now, she’ll destroy everything you’ve worked for. If she kills Marsh, you’re out on the street. You think Thorpe will take you on in her organization? Not after you’ve been a toady for Marsh this long.”

The others looked at where Mr. Hector landed, then back at Morgan. “You bastard,” Morgan’s mother said.

“Now, now. Let’s watch our language,” Brandt chuckled.

Morgan’s mother exhaled loudly through her nose and her face screwed up in rage. She stepped toward the still-smiling Brandt and punched him. Brandt stumbled back. As he regained his balance, the monkey began beating his shins with the symbols.

Brandt lashed out, knocking Morgan’s mother against the wall. He kicked at the monkey, trying to get the thing away from his feet.

A wild cry echoed through the office. “Arrrr!” Brandt turned in time to see Mr. Hector flying through the air at his waist.

Morgan turned away from the scene and looked again through the sight. His mind was racing through the last ten years he’d spent in Marsh’s organization. He knew all the people, all the big clients. He’d done jobs big and small, things he’d distained, but they were duties he’d performed to learn the business. The words Brandt said came to him again—
If she kills Marsh, you’re out on the street.

Morgan ignored the cursing and scuffling behind him and got into his firing stance again. His finger rested lightly on the trigger and the stock fell neatly into the groove in his shoulder. He looked at all three of the people in Marsh’s office, then zoomed in on the individuals, he could see Deena clearly again.

“You are all thinking way too small,” he said. In the next breath, the room fell silent as everyone stopped to question what he meant.

In the breath after that, the room shook with the percussion of a gunshot.

64

Deena heard the pounding of the men trying to get into Marsh’s office. She stood with the gun at her side, feeling its weight in her hand. The culmination of a dozen years of working against her will began to seep into Deena’s consciousness and her jaw ached from holding it so tight. But it had to stop somewhere. When she was fourteen, the Shadow Energy within pushed her hard enough to kill a young man in the name of helping her sister. Now, she knew what it was, and she might even have a say in how it was used or
not
used.

“This is getting us nowhere. If you aren’t going to shoot him, let’s go. Let’s walk out while we can,” Harper said. “Maybe we can still fight our way out.” When Deena didn’t move, Harper got more forceful. “You ungrateful little bitch. It’s always been about you, everything has been about you, and now you won’t even bend to do one thing for me? Let’s go.”

“One thing? More killing? That’s the little thing I should do? Give up my sanity and keep ending people’s lives to make it out? I think that’s more than a little thing.” Deena noticed that Harper tightened her grip on the gun.

“You embraced this life like a religious calling.
That’s
crazy. You dragged me along with you and guilted me into staying.
That’s
crazy. I sacrificed and sacrificed for you.” She raised the gun and pointed it at Deena. “Mr. Marsh? You know I’ve been loyal to you from the beginning, you give me the chance and you’ll see what I can do. I can be every bit as good as she is.” She cocked the gun. “Say the word and I’ll kill her for you.”

“What?” Deena asked. Her sister sounded serious and her face showed grim determination. Deena shifted her gaze from her sister to Marsh, tracing the lines in his face, looking for some sign. She waited and wondered what was going through his mind. “Harper, this is insane.”

“Put down your gun,” Harper said.

Deena set her weapon on the ground, not wanting to provoke Harper any more than she had to.

“This is some situation, yes?” Marsh seemed to breathe a little easier. “Two girls I’d like to see dead are standing in my office. One is offering to kill the other. What to do, what to do?”

“You don’t want to do this, Harper. I had no control over what I was doing. The agents say it’s some kind of parasite that controlled me. Let’s leave and we can talk about it. You and I can leave here and start our lives over.” It was a lie. There was no starting over. Not once they met up with the agents and they went into custody. Even if the compromise they’d discussed actually happened, it wouldn’t be freedom. It would be living in someone else’s cage. “There are agents on their way to arrest everyone on the other side of the door. We can wait it out.”

“I doubt that would happen,” Marsh said. “Start over? After the bus incident? You’ll have every cop, agent and sheriff after you for the rest of your life. They may call out the Texas Rangers and the Marines as well.”

Deena looked at her sister and Marsh. “What bus incident? What are you talking about?”

Marsh feigned surprise. “You didn’t tell her? My. My. I thought there were no secrets between sisters.”

“Harper?” Deena asked. She knew about every job Harper had done, except for anything that might have happened while Deena had been chasing her last mark around the country. The job that had shorted out the hold the Shadow Energy had on her.

It got quiet in the office while Deena waited for someone to either fill her in on what she was missing, or shoot her in the head.

“Your sister was a little too zealous in trying to take care of a witness for us. She… She got a few unintended targets,” Marsh said.

“It was an accident. He told me to send a message.” Harper’s nostrils flared.

“Not the message that we’re incompetent.” The smirk on Marsh’s face lingered as his voice trailed off. “And I had such high hopes for you both. Your father spoke so highly of you.”

“Our father?” Deena felt her jaw tighten. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t think I just accepted a person with talents like yours without a little investigation, do you? I asked a few questions, and it seems your father is the foremost authority on whatever that destructive force is that courses through your pale little body,” Marsh said. “Isn’t that a coincidence?”

Deena was stunned into silence. She thought about the things she’d seen in the basement: the mini-lab, the containers. None of it was familiar to her, but was it possible that her father was responsible for putting some vile creature inside of her? She shuddered.

The silence of the moment was broken when the window shattered and Marsh fell backward, his body hitting the wall with a thump.

Deena and Harper both fell to the floor, trying to make sure they weren’t hit by any follow-up shots. Deena crawled toward the side of the window, hoping the metal frame would block any further shots into the office. She peered around the corner and out into the city, seeing nothing but birds, open sky and tall building after tall building.

She saw her sister across the room, still in the open but slowly crawling toward the desk. Marsh’s body had disappeared behind it with nothing but a bloody streak on the wall to show he’d ever been standing. Harper was headed in that direction, weeping as she went.

With all the death and mayhem she’d seen and caused, Deena was surprised her sister had the ability to shed tears about death. And about Marsh, one of the most notoriously violent criminals to walk the streets of this city, the man who’d pushed them to become thieves and killers. There were questions that Deena never thought to ask, and she saw how her sister was right in a way, it was always about her. It was always about what Deena wanted and needed. She wondered how far Harper had gone to make a place for them here with Marsh’s organization. She shuddered, wondering whether that unknown variable might be far worse than all of the things she actually knew about. She watched her sister place a hand on the side of the desk and push herself along. “Harper. Forget it. Let’s go. Let’s just go. He’s got to be done for.” She wanted to run over and grab Harper, take a running leap and fly out the window, off to the mountains, back to the house and hide there until winter covered their world and their tracks. “Don’t you get it, we can go. There’s nothing holding us here.”

If Harper heard, she didn’t acknowledge as she disappeared behind the desk.

65

Morgan turned to the figures frozen behind him. “I think all of you are thinking way too small,” he said.

Mr. Hector, the monkey, Brandt, Wallace, Nadine and Morgan’s mom all stood with their noses pressed against the glass looking out across the city toward Marsh’s office. Morgan wondered what they expected to see without the aid of a scope or binoculars. He supposed whether they could see anything or not wasn’t the point.

The monkey let out a low whistle.

“My God, boy,” Brandt said quietly. “What have you done? You killed Marsh. You’ll be hunted by every member of that little fucker’s organization. They’ll string you up. This isn’t what I told you to do at all.”

Morgan let himself smile. “The big picture, Brandt. The big picture.”

The teddy bear was the first to look away from the window. “Uh oh. This is bad news. Morgie screwed up again.”

“Morgan, it was bad enough when I thought you were going to kill another woman, but this can bring you nothing but more and more trouble,” his mother said. “I don’t know what to say.”

Brandt spoke again. “Jumping Jesus on a Tuesday. What in hell made you decide to shoot Marsh instead of the girl?”

Morgan was still looking through the scope at the office. Deena had disappeared from his view fairly quickly and Harper slowly made her way behind the desk where Marsh had fallen. His smile faded. “Instead?” He squeezed the trigger. “Let’s see if we can’t start with a clean slate.”