Pretzel Logic Read online

  The apartment was an interesting option, but that would put her in contact with even more people and it would only be a matter of time before someone said something.

  She needed time to decompress.

  To breathe.

  “Let’s get through tonight,” Brita finally said.

  “You might wake up tomorrow and decide to go home,” Sachi said.

  Brita’s stomach rolled as she thought about the message she’d received that morning. The screen caps, the pictures.

  The very calculated and well thought-out threats to ruin Jordan’s life.

  She wouldn’t let her niece go through that. Not after what she herself went through in high school.

  “I doubt it. I will go home eventually, but not right now. I need to let the detectives working the case have time to complete their investigation without the distraction of more threats and trolls coming after me. That’s like trying to sort through a landfill for evidence while they’re bringing in truckloads of new garbage to dump on top of it at the same time. It’s useless.”

  “How do you know more won’t come after you once you do go back?”

  “I don’t, but when they catch one guy and prosecute him, it’ll make others think twice about the risk. That takes the fun out of it for them. These guys are used to being untouchable. When law enforcement touches them, it chills the rest of them for a while.”

  Sachi stared at her, her blue gaze seeming to pierce through her in an unsettling way. “And you have hit your ceiling on stress. Looking over your shoulder.”

  Brita nodded.

  Sachi hugged her again. “Tonight, we chill. Tomorrow, we talk. Promise me.”

  She lost nothing by doing it. “I promise.”

  “Good. Now let’s get you out of here before Mr. Conroy finishes emptying his bladder. I swear the guy’s like a damn camel.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hoping this wasn’t a mistake, Brita drove to the address Sachi gave her. There was already a car parked in the driveway, and when she pulled up, a man hurried out of the house to meet her.

  “Kelly?” he asked. “Sachi texted me. I’m Oscar.”

  Brita started to say no, she wasn’t Kelly, then shut her mouth and nodded. “Thanks. Sorry for this.”

  “No worries. Let’s get your stuff moved and then I’ll take your car.”

  He helped her unload and got her settled in the guest bedroom. Then he took off, leaving her alone in the house.

  It felt…weird.

  She returned to the living room and walked over to a glass-fronted curio cabinet in one corner that held a collection mostly made up of statues of red cardinals, ceramic, glass, carved wood.

  For some reason, it made her think of her own mother and strongly miss her.

  No matter how tempting it was, she couldn’t pick up the phone and call her. Especially not until the troll was found.

  Walking out to the kitchen, she found the cabinet holding drinking glasses, grabbed a plastic cup for herself, and filled it full of ice and water. Taking that back to the bedroom, she dug her anti-anxiety meds out of her bags, took a pill, and stretched out on the bed to…deal.

  Not that running away was dealing, but it was as close to it as she could come at that moment.

  * * * *

  Brita felt confused and disoriented when she awoke some time later. From the dim light and deep shadows, she realized she’d slept far longer than she’d intended.

  What had awakened her was a light tapping on her bedroom door, which repeated. “Kelly?”

  Sachi.

  “Yeah. Come in.”

  Sachi slipped in like a ghost, closing the door behind her. “How you doing?”

  “I’m…apparently, I had a nap.” She sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly seven. Dinner will be ready shortly.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Sorry about renaming you,” she whispered. “I figured you’d go with it.”

  “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

  “Just my guys. I told them you weren’t in any legal trouble, but you had a damn good reason to stay hidden, for your safety.”

  “That’s it?”

  “They know what I went through. That’s all they needed to know. You might as well not exist, at this point. They won’t say a word about you to anyone. If anything comes up, you’re a friend of mine from out of town visiting for a while. And if you want to tell them your real name, I swear, they’ll keep it a secret.”

  “I feel badly I’ve put you into this position.”

  “Hey, I’d be spitting in the face of the Goddess if I didn’t pay it forward when I have a chance to. My friend Julie basically took me under her wing years ago, and then Mandaline after her. I have a good life now. I have to honor that. Helping people is what I do for a living, whether it’s teaching them about skeet, or giving them a reading, or setting their minds at ease debunking supposed paranormal activity. It’s kinda what I do.”

  “I’ll try to find someplace else tomorrow.” Although the thought of packing and locating a new hideout left her exhausted.

  “Why?”

  “Because you have a life.” What she left unsaid was that Sachi had two men and was sure they probably didn’t want to curtail whatever meepy kind of activities the three of them indulged in.

  “My dad lived with us for months before he moved in with his girlfriend. Who I suspect is going to be his wife before long. And he has an open invitation to move back. If having my dad under the same roof didn’t put a crimp in my sex life, having an open-minded friend here who apparently understands alternative lifestyles damn sure won’t.”

  Brita felt her face heat. “Thanks.”

  Since Sachi had so graciously invited Brita into their lives, she knew the least she could do was be honest with Sachi’s men. As she followed Sachi out to the kitchen, the men offered her smiles.

  “You met Oscar already. This is John.”

  He shook with her. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

  “Look, before we go any farther, I think you know Sachi gave a fake name for me. My real name’s Brita Delgado.” She gave a brief rundown of what happened and why she’d run.

  When she finished, Sachi hugged her. “Feel a little better getting it out?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  The men looked somber. “You’re welcomed to stay with us as long as you need to,” Oscar said. “Seriously.”

  John nodded. “Agreed. Please, we know what it’s like to be displaced suddenly.”

  Sachi laughed. “Oh, crap. I forgot about the tornado.”

  “Tornado?” Brita asked.

  They sat down to eat and explained how a dinner at the men’s duplex apartment had devolved into a fight for their lives. Which led into a side discussion of the paranormal investigation at John’s aunt’s house that had led to a marijuana grow operation being discovered.

  And then another segue into how Sachi had gotten shot, which had happened before she’d become an item with her two men.

  Sachi rested her elbows on the table, hands clasped. “So, you see, we’re not exactly strangers to accidentally imported drama around here. We won’t rat you out, but I will ask that you please give serious thought to at least sending your guy an e-mail or text that you’re safe.”

  “I’m going to keep checking the news to see if there’s a break in the case. Otherwise, I’ll contact him in four weeks.”

  “I suspect that’s the best deal I’ll get out of you, copper.” Sachi extended her hand to shake and seal the deal. It startled Brita a little that she used the same phrase she and Ethan bantered around, but then she shook with her.

  “Once we’re done with dinner,” Sachi said, “I’ll show you my reloader.” She grinned.

  Finally, something to laugh at. “Let me guess, he hasn’t sold his yet?”

  “Not yet, but maybe you can go home with a new toy once you’re ready to go.”

  * * * *

  By eleven o’clock that night, Ethan had cal
led any- and everyone he could think of who Brita might know and call for a ride from the condo. No one had heard from her, but everyone promised to get in touch with him if she did contact them.

  He’d gone online to check the phone accounts. There were no outgoing calls from the home phone, her cell, or his cell.

  And no credit card charges to taxi companies.

  He couldn’t even ping her cell phone with the family locator, and she’d turned off the “find my computer” features on her laptop and tablet.

  He deactivated his own FetLife account, just in case, even though there was no way to tie it back to him personally other than through his computer. He even used a fake Gmail account for it that he’d created specifically for that purpose.

  Finally, he left her condo and headed home, remembering halfway there to take a circuitous route. He was in his work car, so if anyone had cruised by her condo and saw the license plate, they would likely assume he was there as part of the investigation, unless they’d seen his car there before.

  He pulled into a Walmart parking lot and sat there, looking around for a few minutes.

  He didn’t think anyone was following him.

  Now I’m being paranoid.

  He still took a roundabout way home from there, only turning onto his street once he was satisfied he wasn’t being followed.

  At least they hadn’t hacked into Brita’s accounts. She’d always been good about using very strong passwords and not clicking on e-mail links.

  After a shower, he crawled into bed, but sleep wasn’t soon in coming. He was worried, yes, but worse, he hated he wasn’t able to protect Brita better. Once again, he felt like he’d failed her, failed Jordan.

  Some Dom I am.

  * * * *

  Brita and Sachi sat up in the spare bedroom long after Oscar and John retired for the evening. As Sachi had promised, the actual act of reloading wasn’t physically taxing.

  And they talked.

  By the time eleven o’clock rolled around and Brita was yawning, she realized they’d been talking for hours.

  “Sorry to keep you up. I don’t even know if you’re a night owl or a morning person.”

  “Night owl by choice, morning person by needing to remain gainfully employed.” She smiled. “It’s okay. I don’t have to be up really early in the morning. Feeling a little less stressed?”

  “Feeling a little less pressured. Still stressed, though.” Brita had sworn she wouldn’t check her e-mail, knowing if she did it would only add to her anxiety.

  “Understandable. At least you know there isn’t anything tying you to me that the whackadoodles can find.” She shrugged. “Even if they did, so what? I live with two guys. That’s not a secret. Everyone knows about us. We don’t hide it.”

  “I have friends who are poly,” Brita admitted, leaving out the kinky stuff. “That doesn’t shock me.”

  “Good. You’ll fit right in then. I promise we won’t run around naked.” She stood and stretched. “John will leave his car here tomorrow for you to use. Oscar can run him to work.”

  She felt silly not having her own car. “I guess if I backed my car into your driveway, that’d be good enough, huh?”

  Sachi grinned. “See? I didn’t even need to suggest it. We’ll still leave John’s car here for you to use. He can drive your car home tomorrow night.”

  “I doubt I’ll be going anywhere.”

  Especially considering the first time she’d left the condo in over a week had been to run away.

  “Eh, just in case. I don’t want you without a ride if we’re not home. I trust you.”

  “Why?” she said.

  Sachi’s head cocked to one side. “I know we don’t talk woo-woo when you shoot. But this is kinda what I do.” She waved her fingers at Brita, vaguely in the shape of the outline of Brita’s form. “I read auras as part of what I do. You’re in a lot of emotional pain. Which, I know, that’s like a no-brainer thing. But you’ve always been in some sort of physical pain while you’ve seen me. And emotional pain. But when you shoot, the emotional pain gets a lot less pronounced by the end of the session, so I can see it’s helping you. When you show up again, it’s back.

  “Also, when you talk about Ethan? Your aura really lights up. You love him crazy, but you’re afraid you’re a burden on him. Again, I know, doesn’t take an Einstein to put two and two together, but go with it, huh?

  “And when you showed up yesterday, it didn’t just scare me because of you appearing out of nowhere.” She waggled her fingers at Brita. “I knew about the shooting, because duh, you’d told me over the phone. Plus I’d seen it on the news. But…dayamn. Your aura looks like someone shot you through it with a metaphysical shotgun. This is a different and far worse kind of pain you’re in right now.”

  Sachi sighed. “But when I mentioned Ethan earlier and asked that you promise to call him, I saw the slightest bit of healing there. He’s the answer for you. I have no doubts a man as tenacious and loving as he is will track that little psycho fucker down and make him or her regret ever having touched a computer in their life. But what you need to learn is that, no matter what, he has never in his life seen you as a burden. If anything, he is burdened by what he feels is his failing.”

  “What?”

  Sachi held up a finger. “Again, I swear to the Goddess and the great and powerful Dildous that I have never talked to your man. This…is…what…I…do. What I see isn’t just from what you’ve told me, but from what I see in you. He feels guilty he can’t fix you and make life perfect for you.”

  Brita knew damn well she’d never revealed anything like that to Sachi. Sachi knew she’d been shot, knew Ethan had helped her recover, but she’d never, not once, revealed any deeper facts to Sachi about their conversations along those lines.

  Sachi’s right eyebrow arched skyward. “Freaked out yet?”

  Brita slowly nodded.

  She grinned, wide and toothy and reminding Brita a little of Sheldon Cooper. “Ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet, sister. Stick around a few days. I’ll positively weird you right the fuck out.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ethan wasn’t sure he might not want to go dig up the body of the guy Brita had shot and put a few more rounds in him and then set fire to his corpse, that’s how angry he felt.

  Nine days since Brita had left, and they still hadn’t caught the arsonist hacker yet, although the cyber forensics division was working on it.

  A few more e-mails had come in to Brita’s Gmail account, the flow of the taunts slowing now that she wasn’t responding and her home phone wasn’t accepting voice mails.

  Her voice mail on her cell phone was full. He could log into the computer portal to see the account, but she hadn’t made any calls or sent any texts from it since before she left.

  Other than her new license plate coming up when he’d had a d’oh moment and searched to see if she’d bought a car, there were no signs of Brita.

  Anywhere.

  The bank withdrawal she’d made had been looked at by Tom and Gary as a courtesy to him. The security pictures showed just Brita, apparently alone and not in any distress they could see. When they compared external security cam footage to the description of her new car, they matched.

  She’d bought the car, made the bank withdrawal, and…left.

  He still stopped by the condo every day, to check for any problems. She wasn’t getting any mail, so nothing for him to pick up there. At dinner with Gabe and Bill one night, he lamented the lack of progress. As far as he could tell, the only gun she’d taken with her was the larger nine millimeter Glock that she’d sometimes carried. She’d already said she didn’t want to get her gun back that had been used in the shooting.

  He couldn’t blame her there. He’d traded in his service weapon for a different one after shooting the guy that afternoon, even though he could have had it back.

  He didn’t want it back.

  “Maybe this is for the best,” Gabe said.

  Both he
and Bill looked at her like cockroaches had just exploded from her eyeballs.

  “What?” they both asked.

  She shook her head at them. “She’s a lot like me in some ways. Strong. Independent. A fixer.” She pointed at Ethan. “You’re a fixer, too. She trusts you. Her leaving is in no way a statement about her thinking you can’t take care of her. Remember, she thinks by leaving that she is taking care of you and Jordan and everyone else. At a time when she feels utterly helpless and being pulled around by some invisible asshole she can’t even fight back against, she took matters into her hands, something she could do and control, and did it.

  “Now, again, I agree I think she should have consulted with you. Sometimes we need to do emotional shit to hit a mental reset.” She hooked her thumb toward Bill. “Ask this one here. I flew to Chicago without asking his permission first just so I could have it out with my grandmother. Who it turned out didn’t even fucking know who the hell I was, she was so far gone.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Poof, decades of her fucking ghost living rent-free in my head—gone.”

  Bill shrugged. “She’s got a point.”

  “This is driving me crazy,” he said. “What if she’s hurt?”

  “She’s hurting,” Gabe said. “And unless there’s something about her you haven’t told us before, I doubt she’ll kill herself. She’s trying to find healing right now.”

  He played with his water glass. “She took her crochet stuff with her, you know.”

  “Well, that’s good. Maybe this is the mental reset she needs.”