Missing Lynx (19 page)

“I will,” said Deep, “but Gater’s got to tag team with me if you’re pulling out your Kung Fu moves.”

“She’s pulling out Kung Fu moves?” Gater asked, moving farther into the apartment.

“Pretend she’s the ten-footer that gave you your name, and you might have a chance of pinning her.”      

Most of my stress left my body as I strained under the weights in the gym where I worked up a good sweat. Ten o’clock already, I had to get going to the office. I showered hurriedly and dressed in a pair of jeans and turtleneck from my suitcase. I borrowed a jacket from Striker’s closet.

Blaze brought my car to the barracks for me last night. I was supposed to drive a different Iniquus car each day. I don’t like driving the Humvees, though, and I didn’t want Gater parking one out front of my house, either. I thought they seemed too conspicuous. Gater and I both ended up with Nissan Xterras today. Charcoal-gray, of course.

I spent the morning reviewing the Hervas file. The data was thin; Command didn’t give me much to work with. I made notes on different directions I could follow to continue the search.

Spyder had given me a huge present in the hospital. He had told me Hervas’ real name, Maria Castillo. Sometimes when Spyder and I worked together, he had to pass me sensitive information out in the open. Information that shouldn’t be dangling in the middle of public discourse. We’ve found the safest way to do this was to front-end-load it into the conversation. Give the datum first, making it sound like a passing thought, or something of no consequence. Then, add information that seemed more significant, or better yet ask a question to get the other person’s mind headed in a different direction – it was a verbal sleight-of-hand trick. Get the opponent refocused on something else. The technique worked like a charm. Spyder was able to pass me Maria’s name right in front of Striker. Spyder must have wanted me to keep that intel quiet, though. And it must have been pretty darned important.

Eighteen

T
he rest of the week didn’t give me much satisfaction. I spent most of my time listening to the Hervas surveillance tapes and massaging my throbbing temples. I was frustrated by the lack of useful information she offered up. If Consuela Hervas was linked into the Hydra, so far she’s been careful to stay no-contact with anyone at all. I plugged away at uncovering her background.

She’d assumed a false persona, Spyder confirmed as much in the hospital, but usually people will create their new identity on aspects that are vaguely familiar to them, so they are conversant enough not to blow their cover. Mostly all I got from my research was a great big goose egg. And a stress headache.

I also worked with the name Spyder offered me, Maria Castillo. Maria Castillo was here in America illegally. She wasn’t a US citizen, and she didn’t have a current green card or visa; they had both expired. I felt confident I was researching the right person, though; I had found photographs and documentation in both the Iniquus and Consular data bases that made that clear.

I was able to pick up on her housing background from nine years ago, and I worked on following the scant trail. I pieced together tidbits here and there up until the September before last. It occurred to me at the edges of my thought process, that this was the time period when Spyder went off-grid. Curious. Something to be aware of - not something to hone in on. I don’t want to miss the forest for the trees, and while curious, it could also be coincidental.

On Friday night, I found myself trailing behind Gater as he plowed through the grocery store. He piled the cart full like he was preparing for Armageddon. Good gracious, but this man knew how to eat - though there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. I wondered how hard he pushed himself – how far he went on his early morning runs. He’s been taking the girls out and bringing them home with their tongues hanging out of their mouths, sides heaving, exhausted. They never did that after a run with me. Hmm, maybe I was slacking off. Gater never seemed drained. Amazing.

I’d been a wimp the past week avoiding any possible Consuela interactions by doing my cardio in my basement gym. Gater came down, and we’d lift. I moved the sofa out of the way and rolled up the carpet to make way for the gym mats so we could spar. Gater was trying to show me some of his grappling moves. Since he has me by about half a foot and eighty pounds of muscle, I’ve had to resort to some of Master Wang’s pressure point moves. Gater hated that - he said I was cheating.

“Gater, what are the plans for this weekend? Surely they don’t keep you on duty seven days a week.”

“Well, ma’am, this is sorta semi-duty. They told me if I want to go do something else, I should call in relief.”

“Who’s on this weekend?”

“Deep’s gonna come by tonight. I have a date planned out with Amy, and I’ll probably end up staying over at her place. She’s going to her cousin’s wedding Saturday, though, so I’ll be back at your place then.”

“Are weddings like Christmas in your book? A little too much like a commitment?”

“It ain’t like that for me, ma’am. Amy’s got all these plans for us, and I don’t want to be leading her on. Right now my heart’s with my job.”

I meant to tease him, but Gater’s response sounded so earnest that I changed the subject. “Okay, but I should warn you, things are going to be pretty crazy over at my house tomorrow night.”

“How come?” Gater reached way down in the meat chest and came up with an armful of steaks. I stood wide eyed as he dumped them into the little remaining room in his cart. Why not buy a whole cow while you were at it, Gater?

“One Saturday each month, all of the kids on my block come spend the night with me. We bake cookies, build forts, and watch Disney movies.”

“Why?” Gater asked, with a look that told me he thought I’d gone crazy.

“You know my neighbors are like family to me. The parents in my neighborhood have small budgets; they can rarely afford babysitters. I give them one night a month to go out and relax and then go home and have some undistracted adult time. If I choose one dependable night a month, then they can make plans, the kids and I look forward to it, and I don’t have to divide my time between the families. It’s a win-win.”

“How many come over?” Gater reached for a twenty-pound turkey.

“Eleven, but three are babies so they go to sleep pretty early.”

“Three babies and eight little kids?” Gater rolled his eyes. “Okay. You cain’t never tell Amy I missed her cousin’s wedding to stay home with a passel of youngins. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I won’t lie, but I can’t imagine this coming up in conversation. What do you want me to make, cupcakes to decorate? Or cookies?”

“Cookies - peanut butter with them Hershey’s kisses.”

I pinched my lower lip. “Shoot, Gater. Is this a good idea? Do you think having the kiddos at my place will put them in danger?”

“Well, ma’am, Spyder wanted you to keep to your normal routine. I think dodging out on the whole neighborhood might get some gossip going. We’ve got eyes and ears on Consuela. I’ll give the surveillance monitor a heads up. But honestly? Between you, me, the dogs and your alarm system, those kids couldn’t be safer.”

“Okay, but would you mind running an infrared alarm around my perimeter for a better heads-up?”

“Not a problem,” Gater said.

Describing Saturday night as lively would be a gross understatement. Gater was just a big kid, and I have to say he was the instigator of much of the hoo-ha.

When Alice and Andy came over, their infant twins were both howling. I handed them off to Gater, who put one up on each of his burly shoulders and patted their tiny bottoms. Alice raised her eyebrows when she saw this, but didn’t say a word when she handed over the diaper bag and went to put the babies’ bottles in the fridge. As she headed out of the kitchen, she saw her twins laying quietly content with their little fists curled into Gater’s T-shirt. Alice patted him on the arm and smiled over to me with a knowing wink.

“Not what you’re thinking, Alice. Gater is my dear friend and colleague. He’s my housemate for now, and he’s going to be living in the duplex, as soon as Manny’s got everything fixed up.”

“Okay, well thanks you two for keeping the babies tonight. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Sarah showed up with Mike, a rough and tumble eight-year-old with crazy hair, a bazillion freckles, and an infectious smile, and his baby sister, Ruby. Ruby had just turned one. Her auburn ringlets framed a porcelain face; she was as close to a living doll as I have ever seen with rosebud lips and pink chubby cheeks. She was like a tonic to me. When I held Ruby, all of the bad melted away.

The bell sounded again; Missy stood on my porch with her two boys and Jilly. Poor Jilly didn’t have any girls in the neighborhood to play with. I had hoped a nice family with lots of little girls would move in next to her, but instead we got Maria/Barnacle-on-a-monster/leopard-woman, and Jilly still didn’t have a playmate.

Jilly’s brothers came in and went over to the TV to search through the stack of kiddy DVDs I had put out. They started fighting immediately. Jilly sighed and went and sat on the couch. 

“Jilly’s blood glucose numbers have been pretty stable today. She was real excited to come over here though, which always drops her sugar levels, so you may want to do a few extra checks.” Missy handed me Jilly’s diabetic paraphernalia in her purple backpack.

“What are you doing tonight Missy? Got a hot date?”

“No, but if you know anyone…” her voice trailed off as she sent Gater a speculative look. “I wouldn’t mind a blind date. Tonight, Consuela and I are going to drink wine and watch sad movies. I bought extra tissues and dark chocolate to go with.” Missy made a face that had me laughing though I knew she felt lonely for someone special in her life. “Have you met Consuela yet?” she asked. “You’ll like her - she’s real friendly. And she particularly wants to meet you. She’s been asking lots of questions.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” A frisson of anxiety rippled through me.

Missy tilted her head. “She didn’t say.” Her statement sounded like a question. Maybe my tone gave away my disquiet. I smiled and rubbed Missy’s arm. “Well, I hope you two have a good time er cry - whatever.”

Manny and his crew showed up last - coming in right behind Dave and Cathy with their twins, Fletcher and Colin. Cathy’s eyes grew wide when she spotted Gater with babies in each arm. She glanced over at me and gave me a nod. Apparently she approved of this one. I went through the whole ‘this is my colleague’ spiel again, but Cathy seemed unconvinced. Gater seemed oblivious, so I guessed it didn’t matter. And there we were: three babies, eight kids.

I put Ruby on the floor, with Jilly in charge, and I went back to the kitchen to warm bottles. Gater and I fed the twins, Hannah and Zack, first. Gater was either a natural, or he’d had babies in his arms many times before. I decided not to ask — it might ruin his tough guy persona. After they were burped and snuggled, we took the babies up to my second guest room, where I’d set up portable cribs.

I went down to get Ruby and start all over again; Gater said he’d watch the others. Watch them, ha. Gater decided to play war with them. I stepped down into a full out battle scene — kids were diving behind my furniture, screaming in pain, writhing on the floor, and giggling madly. There were bombs exploding and bodies dying and being revived to die again. Beetle and Bella got in the mix, leaping about. I sat on the stairs, away from the havoc, and laughed.

When the smoke cleared, there were nine tired soldiers lying around. I popped the
Balto
DVD into the player. Everyone settled in and cuddled up to Gater, draping over his lap, peeking around his legs. His long arms reached to snuggle them closer and rub their heads affectionately. What a softy.

I went to the kitchen and made cookies and warm milk then brought our snack into the living room for a picnic. Gater helped the kids build forts and spread out their sleeping bags. They all lined up to potty and brush their teeth, and then we tucked them in. Once the lights went out, Gater sat on the floor with a flashlight under his chin, and he spun them some tall tales until the warm milk took its effect, and they fell off to sleep.

I checked Jilly-bean’s blood. 150. That felt like a safe number, but I’d set my alarm to check her during the night. I put Beetle at the back door on guard duty, and Bella was at the front. Gater and I surveyed the house to make sure we were locked up tight and the alarm was on.

“Missy’s hanging out with Consuela tonight?” Gater asked as we climbed the stairs.

“Apparently my new neighbor is friendly, interested to meet me, and asking questions.”

“You gonna pick Missy’s brain tomorrow?”

“That’s the plan, though, I may need something to barter. You got any friends who’d like to go on a blind date?”

Nineteen

I
made a big breakfast in the morning, setting the food out buffet style as the parents started trickling in around seven. We filled our plates and sat wherever, untying the sheets and blankets from last night’s forts to uncover chairs. The kids were still in their pjs; the adults looked like they wished they could still be in theirs. Gater was out running with Beetle and Bella. He’d eat when they got back.

My phone rang as I loaded the dishwasher. Judy Miller wanted me to come up to the farm later today; Beetle and Bella’s mom Dagger was in labor. Oh, fun. New puppies. I said I’d drive over after I had straightened around.

Cathy tapped me on the arm. “Hey, let me do that. You go get ready and head on.”

I smiled appreciatively and headed up the stairs to don camo-gear and combat boots. I wanted to get to the farm to watch the puppies being born and maybe take my girls through the fire-arms obstacle course. It had been a while since I had been to the Millers’. Too long. I hadn’t been up there since before Angel died.

I clomped down the stairs to find my house empty except for Gater who was warming his plate of food in the microwave. “What’s the plan now that the invading army has retreated? Why are you dressed for battle?” he asked.