32AshBell Harbor
Ash
Bell Harbor
Detective Caine approached, crossing the cement floor, carrying Ash’s small duffle bag and wearing a frown. She had turned out to be a Black woman in Adidas and jeans.
“OK, Mr. Valkyrie,” she said, shoving the duffle bag at him. “We’ve photographed all of the cash. Although, tell me again, why you have a million dollars in cash on hand?”
“It accumulates,” said Ash with a shrug. He’d ransacked the scary closet. The amount had surprised him, too. “I keep meaning to take it back to the bank.”
He had no intention of taking it back to the bank. He was going to shove it back in the closet, but he wasn’t about to tell the detective that.
“I’m still not sure the money is necessary. It’s not what he asked for.”
“I’ve known Mason since I was nineteen. He’s going to expect me to negotiate,” said Ash, patiently. “If I don’t do something, he’ll be suspicious. I need him to think he’s predicted me. It’s a distraction to keep him from wondering if I’ve done something else—like call the cops.”
“Well, working with the police is completely unexpected for a Valkyrie,” said Detective Caine.
“That’s not true,” protested Ash.
“Your older brother sent me an email and then went on a punching spree. And your oldest brother ran his own special ops force into a murder investigation!”
“And you arrested all the bad guys, and nobody died,” said Ash. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”
Detective Caine’s eye twitched. “I’m complaining about your complete disregard for the police force.”
“I had my people call your people,” said Ash. “And I donate to the police union. I have loads of regard.”
“You three are a menace,” said the detective.
“Yeah, my third-grade teacher used to say the same thing,” said Ash.
Detective Caine snorted, and he distinctly saw her lips twitch.
“We don’t do it on purpose,” said Ash, sensing an opening. “We aren’t anti-police. We’re just very pro-getting the job done.”
“And right now, you think the police are the quickest way to get the job done?” asked Detective Caine, cocking an eyebrow. Ash tried not to make an expression that would show how right she was. “Mr. Valkyrie, where is your older brother Rowan?”
“Mexico,” admitted Ash.
“Mm-hmm. We’re his replacement, aren’t we?”
“My priority is Harper. I want her back, and I want her safe. You were already on the case. It seemed like our goals aligned.”
Detective Caine nodded. “Mm-hmm. Very efficient,” she said.
“Ma’am, I’m not trying to be a problem,” said Ash, hoping the contriteness would buy him some goodwill.”
“I’m getting that, actually. You just can’t help yourselves.”
“Not really? Well, Rowan and Forest usually can. They’re usually very normal and polite, I promise.”
This time, Detective Caine really did laugh. “And you’re the rebel?”
“Well, I try very hard not to be.”
“Thanks for the effort. OK, we’re going to have eyes on you at all times. Give him whatever he wants, but try to hold off until we have Ms. Smoak back on dry land.”
Ash nodded.
“Whatever happens, they won’t be getting off the property. We’ll have the parking garage locked down and plainclothes officers in the plaza.”
“Got it,” said Ash.
She checked her watch. “They should be arriving shortly. Remember, just because you can’t see us doesn’t mean we can’t see you. Just stay calm.”
Ash wanted to point out that he was fine, but nothing sounded more aggro than yelling that he was cool.
“Ah,” he said. “That’s why women hate that.”
“What?”
“Women don’t like being told to calm down,” said Ash. “I just realized it’s because the person who has to say they’re calm always sounds like a liar.”
“So you’re calm, is what you’re saying?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Right. Just wait here. Officer Sanchez is playing Marty, and he’ll show them in.”
Ash took a glance at the arguing knot of officers. It was possible that Officer Sanchez had won—he couldn’t tell. The cops began to disappear, scurrying away, and Ash felt an undercurrent of nerves as the space emptied.
He glanced at his watch. The minutes ticked up to the meeting time and then a minute past. Then, another minute.
Then his phone rang.
“You’re late,” said Ash, picking up.
“We’re on the pier,” said Mason. “Come out and meet us.”
“On the pier? When did you get here?”
“Right now. It’s a pier. You just need a boat.”
“Right,” said Ash, realizing that the cops in the parking garage weren’t going to do a damn bit of good.
He hung up and then began to head for the wide exit to the exterior pier. On the second story mezzanine, he saw Detective Caine glaring down at him. He gave a shrug and kept walking.
Outside, rain was spitting down in intermittent, hard, stinging drops that matched his mood but didn’t improve the situation. The pier was concrete and built for the tall cruise liners, but a metal floating dock at the end allowed access for normal-sized boats.
Dressed in a North Face windbreaker, Mason waited for him at the top of the gangplank. Ash could see a speedboat with two men in it down in the water.
“Where’s Harper?” demanded Ash, making his checking out of the boat obvious.
Mason looked around and then pointed at a yacht slowly cruising the harbor and coming in their direction.
“She’s perfectly fine,” said Mason.
“She’s not here.”
“Give me the files, and will radio them to pull in and let her out,” said Mason. “It’s perfectly simple.”
“Uh-huh. I want to talk to her.”
Ash thought Mason was telling the truth but needed time for the cops to catch up.
Mason visibly rolled his eyes and took out his phone.
“Yeah, I’m with Ash. He wants to talk to Harper.”
“I want to see Harper.” He wasn’t going to be negotiated down from that point.
“He needs to see her. Just put her on. What do you mean you put... Just get her out and call back.”
Mason hung up. “They’re going to call back.”
“Then we wait,” said Ash. Down on the metal dock, the two men had finished tying up and had stepped out of the boat. They looked sizeable.
Mason’s phone buzzed, and he answered the call before holding it out to Ash.
“Hey, Baby!” said Harper. She had the bright-eyed look she got when overstimulated at a party, but she looked unharmed. She was also using their code word for wanting to leave soon. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to get her off the damn boat any quicker than he was already doing.
“Harper, are you OK?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Harper, with a slightly hysterical giggle, “but I saw an eagle.”
“Baby, have you been bad, or do you just have poor impulse control?” asked Ash.
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Emma demanded from off-screen.
“Both,” said Harper.
There was an odd surge and the faint sound of yelling from the phone side.
“Meet you at the emergency exit,” said Harper as the phone jostled awkwardly.
“OK, that’s enough,” said Emma, and the phone went black.
“See?” demanded Mason, tucking his phone away. “She’s fine.”
“OK,” said Ash, and tossed Mason the duffle bag.
“What’s this?” demanded Mason, partially unzipping the bag and looking inside.
“A million dollars,” said Ash.
“Oh, good grief,” said Mason with a laugh. “I knew you’d try something. What am I supposed to do with that? That’ll get me through… maybe a year?”
“That’s just what I had in the closet,” said Ash, gritting his teeth. Was this what he sounded like to Harper when he blew off spending ten grand? “I can get you more, and I can write up a paystub for services.”
“Services,” snarled Mason derisively. “I ought to own your company. You wouldn’t exist without me!”
That was true. Without Mason, Ash couldn’t have gotten the business off the ground.
But where had Mason been for the all-nighters and the endless rounds of meetings, pitches, and networking?
Mason had never wanted to do any of the asks.
He didn’t like to appear to be begging for money.
That part was beneath him. Ash couldn’t name one project in the last year where Mason’s input had been necessary.
“I offered you a partnership,” said Ash. “As I recall, you said the family didn’t think I was a safe bet.”
“Ash, be realistic. You went to a state school. Your brother was in the Army.”
“Marines,” said Ash automatically.
“Your brother was too stupid to even join the Army. And Forest… I mean, Jesus, he was working for some sheik in Dubai and getting some backpacker pregnant.”
“That is not…”
“You were a risk, but you proved everyone wrong! You’ve done great. And you should have come back once you had more polish.”
“Why would I come back when my company was a success?” asked Ash. “And weren’t you at the same state school I was?”
“For my PhD! It was a prestigious program!”
Ash wanted to ask why Mason was doing this, but he realized the truth before the words were out of his mouth. Mason wanted to make Ash feel inferior. The dynamic of their relationship had always been that Mason knew best and that Ash was bumbling along.
But Ash did know what he was doing. He knew he was good at negotiating.
He was good at absorbing information. And he was good at making decisions.
What he was bad at was recognizing when a pattern in his life had changed.
His brothers didn’t make fun of him. Emma didn’t like him as a person. And Ash didn’t need Mason.
“You could have asked for help,” said Ash. Or sold off things like the stupid yacht that was quickly approaching the pier.
“I shouldn’t have to!” snapped Mason. “I just need some time to rebuild! But Donil isn’t giving me the time. He wants the Miller Project, which again should have been fine, but you and Emma fucking broke up.”
Ash cocked his head and tried to look sympathetic. He wasn’t. He was pissed as hell.
“I can’t give you the Miller Project,” said Ash. Why don’t you introduce me to this Donil guy, and I’ll take care of it?
Ash didn’t know much about boats, but he felt like the large yacht should be slowing down.
“You don’t get it,” said Mason. “These are not nice people. You have to do what they say. I know you think you’re a super negotiator, but you’re just like everyone else.”
People were running around on the deck of the yacht. There seemed to be a lot of arm waving. That didn’t seem like a good sign.
“Oh,” said Ash, rolling the rubber band around his wrist down and snapping it around his hair. “I see.”
A plume of black smoke was coming from the rear of the yacht. That was probably Harper’s eagle. He finished tugging his hair into a top knot, the usual position to get it through the hole in his helmet for sparring.
“Mason,” he shook his head, “All this time, and you honestly thought I was normal?”
“What?” Mason looked confused. There was a yell from the two men on the metal dock at water level as the yacht ran dangerously close to them, sloshing a wave of icy cold water over the edge.
Ash reached out and punched Mason—a stiff, popping jab. Mason’s head bounced, and he stumbled backward. Ash could hear yelling from behind him. He hoped it was the police but didn’t look around to find out. He had to meet Harper at the exit.
With a furious yell, Mason charged back at him, but Ash side-stepped and laid him out with a cross. The two Russians were charging up the gangplank, and Ash ran to meet them.
Time seemed oddly slow as the two men ran up the gangway. Ash had plenty of time to realize this was just like karate. He needed to line the two men up and avoid getting flanked. He could only hit one person at a time, and if he let them split up, they would have an advantage.
The first man made it onto the pier, but Ash didn’t let him get set up for fighting.
Instead, he charged in, stomping out with a front kick and following it up with punches.
The man staggered back, and Ash used his momentum to spin into a sidekick at the second attacker—sending him staggering and then rolling down the gangplank.
The yacht was making deep belching noises but had slowed and veered away from the pier. He saw Harper run out onto the deck, and Ash ran for the gangplank. He needed Mason’s boat.
The first goon grabbed Ash from behind and hauled him back onto the pier.
Shihan had a set list of self-defense techniques he made students memorize, and this was the setup for number six.
Ash elbowed sharply backward, dropped his center of gravity, grabbed his attacker’s arm, and pulled sharply, flipping the man over Ash’s shoulder and onto the cement with a resounding thump.
The final moves were supposed to be an arm bar, but he didn’t have time for that.
He stomped sharply into the man’s ribs and ran for the gangplank.
The second mobster was back on his feet, but Ash still didn’t have time for him.
Instead, he jumped off the gangway, sailing over the man’s head and into the boat.
He hurriedly undid the rope and fired up the engine.
He could see the cops now. There was a lot of yelling. But he could also see that Harper had made it to the edge of the railing. She kicked off her shoes and dove straight into the Sound without waiting.