Unstoppable: Truth is Unstoppable (Truth and Love Series) (17 page)

VICTORIA

The
ugly man comes in
. He is everything Jace is not. He's the black curl on a burning piece of paper. He's suffocating. Enjoys making things burn. He likes watching things wither and die. 

I huddle against the wall.

He throws a threadbare towel at me. “
Get undressed
.”

DEREK

Mom’s body is stiff as steel. She’s holding a dinner plate in one hand, a dishtowel in the other. She stares from Dad to me and back again.

“Tell me,” she says, her voice fine as a razor, “what the hell is going on.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t play games with me, Derek. I didn’t just have three Corps soldiers in my living room over nothing. So you tell me, and you better tell me now. And it better be the truth.”

I don’t know what to say. I blink and cast my eyes down.

Dad finally speaks up. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”

“You better tell me more than that.” When he doesn’t, she raises her voice and spits out, “I want to know what’s going on. Someone tell me.”

Swallowing, I finally look up at Mom and say, “It’s Victoria. I’m trying…I’m helping…” I sigh. “The Corps thinks she killed her father. I’m trying to prove otherwise.”

Mom goes totally still; I don’t even think she blinks once in the next three minutes. She just stares at me, and I can’t tell if she’s pissed, annoyed, accepting, or confused. The only real movement in her expression is the color that rises to her cheeks.

“Mom,” I say, holding my hand out. “She’ll die if I don’t.”

And just like that, she shakes her head. And scoffs. And puts her hands up. And starts pacing. Whatever was holding her back before is long gone now.

“Well you know what? That’s too bad, because I like Victoria, I always have. When you first brought her home, I liked her. But she’s in jail, Derek, and she’s there for a reason—”

“The Corps is wrong and—”

“Don’t you interrupt me. I’m not done talking.”

I close my mouth.

“She made her bed. She needs to lay in it.”

“It’s not that—”

She raises her hand, palm to me. I shut my mouth.

“Now I feel bad for her, I do. But you trying to…whatever you’re doing…is stupid. It’s stupid and childish, and it won’t change a thing. The Corps investigated and whatever they found, it was good enough to lock her away. And you need to stay away from her.”

“They’re wrong. She’s just convenient for them to blame.”

She has an incredulous look on her face as she says, “This is what they do, Derek. They’re not stupid. They investigate, they get evidence, they gather facts. They’re not just randomly pointing to someone and hauling them in.” Mom steps back. She looks over at Dad. “You knew about this? You knew what he was doing?”

“Sarah, he’s nineteen. We can’t—”

“Bullshit!” she slams the plate on the end table. It crashes and shatters, and I jump. Her eyes go wide with fury. “I don’t care how old you are! We’re your parents and you’re not doing this. Your little investigation is over.”

“Mom,” I say, the words killing me as I say them, “I can’t do that.”

“You’re going to. From this moment on, you are done. Finished.”

“I’ve read the reports. The evidence they have is flimsy at best, only proving they just want somebody to blame.”

“You read reports? What reports?
How
? Derek, what are you doing?” She brings both hands to the side of her head, pressing against her temples. “What, you think you’re going to find something they missed? You think you’re going to see the one clue they hadn’t and save the day?” She shakes her head. “The real world doesn’t work like that, Derek. Trust me! Take it from someone who’s lived longer than you, who’s been though more than you. You don’t just investigate and then all of a sudden pieces come into place. You don’t just wake up one morning and decide
hey, I’m going to solve a major crime and in the process, go against everything I’ve ever worked for
.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then what do you call it?”

“I proposed to her. I love her and I can’t just leave her in there.”

Mom’s expression hardens. “I don’t care what you did. She’s in jail. You are not going to anchor yourself to that.”

Fissures of anger begin to crack through my guilt, my love for Mom, my wanting to please her. I do my best to tamp it down, try to see things from her angle.

“Mom,” I say, my voice softer, “don’t do this to me.”

“And what are you doing to me? Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand the danger you’re putting yourself in? Doesn’t that matter?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“The fact that you think that is scary. You won’t be fine.”

I shut my eyes and breathe deep, feeling like a knife is twisting in my gut. I take two steps, but Mom grabs my elbow and spins me back to face her. “No,” she says. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Mom, let go.”

“You have PMAA to think about. You have your apartment. You have a career and a life waiting for you, and you can’t just throw all that away on some delusion!”

“Mom.”

“Derek, think.”

“Mom, please.”

“You’re being ridiculous! You cannot do this! You—”

“It’s not up to you!”

My shout reverberates and bends the air around us. My breathing leaves in trembling bursts. Mom’s fingers dig into my forearm, and I have to uncurl them to make her let me go.

“Don’t do this,” she whispers.

I step back, never taking my eyes off her. She becomes a wavy, unclear outline as I get nearer and nearer to the door.

“Derek.”

Hot air hits my back as I push open the door. I look at Dad a long moment, recalling every drive we took to the rec center for baseball, every Pirates game he took me to, and every book he’s read to me at bedtime. And I look at Mom, and memories of the way she’d pour over Algebra homework with me, the way she was the first to say my braces didn’t make me look like a total dork, and the way she’d pick me up from school, light up my mind in painful flashes.

I think of all the times they’ve been there for me. And now of all the times they can’t.

I turn and let the door shut behind me.

VICTORIA

I stare at the towel at my feet.

“Y’know, that’s quite a shiner you got there, sweetheart.” He crouches low and stares into my eyes.

I want to vomit.

His gaze lowers to my chest and lingers there before sliding back up.

“How many other injuries you got? Something on your stomach, maybe? Your thighs?”

His hand reaches out and I slap it away. He grins.

My heart hammers in my chest. I want to burst into tears. I want to gouge his eyes out
.

“Usually one of the female officers stays with the girl prisoners when they bathe. But for you, I asked especially. I want to see you—”

“Private Evans. Get away from her, now.”

The corner of the ugly man’s mouth turns up. He casts one last look at my body before he stands and turns.

“Captain,” he says, giving him a lazy, mock salute. “Funny seeing you here. Can I do anything for you?”

“Leave.”

The ugly man—Private Evans—strides nonchalantly to him and stops only inches away. “You’ve taken a big interest in this case. I thought you had your hands full with that Campbell woman. But you’re still finding the time to visit this whore. Wonder why that is?”

“Careful.”

“Oh, I’m not the one you should be saying that to. In fact, if I were you, I’d follow my own advice.” Private Evans steps past him and chuckles. Right before he leaves, he calls over his shoulder, “There’s a reason you’ve taken a shine to this case. And I’m going to find out what it is.”

The cell door slams shut. Jace’s expression is pure granite. But for the first time, I see a flicker of movement behind his eyes, shading that wasn’t there before. For the first time, I see something close to vulnerability.

DEREK

“They found the bug. Soldiers were at my parent’s house.” I shift the phone from one ear to the other as I stop at the light. I wipe my eyes.

Sabrina says, “Yikes.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to hide in my parents’ kitchen.”

“Jesus. Look, it’s alright. They can’t prove anything. ”

I make a face. “You're not serious?”

“I’m here at the house. Meet me, okay?”

“I’ve got to stop somewhere first. The Corps report said that two devices were confiscated from Mr. King’s office the night he was killed. But a few weeks ago William took about fifteen of them from Mr. King’s house. So if they’re not mentioned in the report—”

“That means William must still have them.”

“My thoughts exactly. I’m going to head over and see what I can find.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” I hang up and put the phone on the passenger seat and merge onto the parkway. It takes less than twenty minutes to pull up to William’s.

<><><>

The house has a few lights on, but I already know no one is home. Robin is out of town and William is at the office. A quick call and that was easy enough to find out. So the house is empty. As for the security I know protects the building, well, let's say it's amazing what a thousand bucks and a quick call to a friend of a friend can do.  

And all I have to do is punch in 2847 into the security keypad and I'm in. 

The carpet swallows my footsteps and I move through the house without making a sound.  I quickly glance in the kitchen and living room as I hurry upstairs. Bedrooms are on either side of me, but it’s the last door on the right where I hit pay dirt: William's office.

I hurry to his desk. It’s a massive metal and glass creature—it looks like a damn space ship—with dozens of drawers, all locked. I try the laptop. It's on hibernate, so I just have to touch the space bar and it turns on. But when I try to access any documents, a password prompt comes up. Great.

I stand and walk to the cabinet across from me. No surprise, it's locked. I go to the second. Locked. I go to the closet. Locked. They’ve got to be in here somewhere. It’s the only place they could be.

I retry the cabinet, hoping to maybe jimmy it open or something, when I notice the window seat. It’s so smoothly, seamlessly built into the frame that I just totally skipped right over it. I hurry to it and lift the lid.

Bingo. The devices, even the ones that broke, are inside.

I’m about to grab the box, but then I stop. Every inch of me. Even my breathing. Because that's when I hear it.

Or should I say, him.

William.

VICTORIA

“I spoke to the judge today.”

“Good news?” I ask, only half-joking.

DEREK

I shut the lid as gently as I can, still wincing when it closes. I hurry to the door, but quickly pull back as I hear him and another person begin to ascend the stairs. I go back in the office and immediately regret it. Trapped. The footsteps are getting louder. I move to the desk but I can't hide beneath it. The bottom is open. I go to the closet, but no surprise there, the handle still doesn’t turn. I think about trying to squeeze myself into the window seat but with the box in there, there’s just no room.

Christ.

I look around, frantic. The windows.

The first window is lock or stuck. It won’t budge. The second window is the same. God, are these just for decoration? I rush over to the large bay window behind William’s desk. It opens easily, thank God, and I step through. But the ledge isn’t as big as I first thought, certainly not wide enough for even the ball of my foot to rest on. My body pitches forward and I fall into nothing but darkness.

VICTORIA

“She reviewed the case file. She’s scheduled your trial. It’s tomorrow.”

DEREK

I grab the ledge just in time, but a stone slices part of my forearm and palm wide open.  It’s agony to hang on with my injured hand, but the alternative is even worse. My muscles are screaming and my face is scrunched tight. Blood is racing down my arm, into my shirt. I'm about two stories off the ground, maybe even higher. I readjust my grip on the brick and try to get some traction with my feet but there's only the thinnest strip of brick. I can barely dig the front of my shoes in. Sweat pops out on my forehead. 

There's noise in the room. Footsteps. Someone setting something down. No one is coming to the window though. Or at least, I don't think so. No one gasps and screams that there’s a guy dangling from the ledge.

“What do you have for me?”

William's voice. Something heavy lands on his desk. Maybe another device? There's quiet, and then William says, “Is this the last of it?”

“Yes. The office is clear.”

Another sound: a chair rolling out on wood and then the squeak as someone sits. The blood is making my grip slip. My fingers are killing me. I adjust my hands once more and stifle a groan.

William's voice travels down to me, “And the case?”

“The Corps is cooperating. They're keeping things quiet, off the radios. No one in the press is talking, either. So far, leaks are plugged.”

“And that captain?”

A small pause. “Occupied. That Campbell case is taking a lot of his time. Apparently, he was close to the victim. Plus, there was a scene at the Steel Tower the other day. He's, uh...he's in a bit of his own hot water.”

“Keep an eye on him. Let our people in the department know to continue watching. I want to know his strategy, and if it changes.”

“Understood.”

Sweat is pouring down my back. My arms are stretched taut. Even my stomach feels like I'm on some medieval rack and I'm being pulled to the point of breaking. I grit my teeth.

“Sir,” the other voice asks, “I followed up about the files. I have a guy in place. He's ready when you're ready.”

A pause.

“My sister?”

“Coping.”

A small stone is digging into my ring finger. I try to bend my arms and hoist myself up a little, but they’re already so taxed. They feel like rubber. I'm no weakling, but my hand is throbbing from the cut and the ledge just isn't wide enough. My fingers are slipping. I adjust my hold again. 

“And the money?”

“Ten million was moved today. Another ten will be deposited by the end of the week.”

“Any suspicions?”

“None that I know of or am aware of. People seem—”

The other guy never finishes. A bell begins to go off. No, not a bell, a sort of chime. No, not a chime, a cell phone ringing. My eyes widen. My cell phone ringing. Both men above me go
silent.  I hear movement though. I see a shadow begin to stretch and loom above me. I have no choice.

I let go of the window ledge.