Chapter 10- Closing
Today, life felt different. Helen awoke in her own bed knowing this was where she would spend the rest of her days. There would be no more trips to other Technician’s homes to learn their ways. She was at the point of sitting down and really figuring out “her thing.”
“I still don't know what my thing is other than if shit don't feel right, then I'm out,” she said softly.
Mustang wanted to ask questions, but he'd learned during their brief marriage that when she was ready to talk, his wife would say what was on her mind.
Until then, he wouldn't press the issue or try to draw blood from a boulder.
A week after her abrupt return home, over breakfast on a Saturday morning, she sat and shivered.
“I don't think I've ever been that cold in my life, and Abi and I lived in Germany,” Helen said. “Honestly, it wasn't so much the cold outside, but the aloofness inside the home that kind of made the poorly prepared food curdle in my stomach.”
“Was it just that or something deeper you felt,” he asked.
“Something I felt,” she said. “I think I was right, but I haven't followed up with her on the particular subject, so I'm waiting on a call.”
“A call?”
“I did a thing,” she said, looking at him with a twinkle in her eye.
“Please share as I brace myself for what will probably make my left eye twitch and my ball sac jump, but I'm listening,” he said, sipping at the heavenly coffee.
“A man showed up at Sour Grape's home the same day I did,” Helen said, watching his face.
“When I left, I had a bout of the collywobbles, you know, when you shudder and it feels like someone is walking over your grave?
Yeah, that feeling, so I stopped at Apple's and had him sweep the car and luggage.”
“Did he find anything?” Mustang said it softly, sounding calm. However, in his pants his left nut sac twitched and his right big toe rose in his boot. His Helen said she did a thing, and he simply had to sit still and look cool and composed while listening.
“He found a tracker on my car. Considering that was just my third time driving it, and there is no reason for you to track me, I figured it had to be him,” Helen said, holding up her hand to stop him from turning into Hulk Husband. “Apple wanted to stomp it, but I had a better idea.”
“I don't think I want to know, but I assume this is the thing you did,” he asked.
“Yep,” she said, grinning. “I drove right to Chicago to the Velvet Bunny Room, or whatever the hell Kurtzwilde calls it, and was shocked at the number of losers at a strip club in the middle of the day.
Anyhoo, I was planning to take the tracker inside, but then the man himself pulled up.
I waited. He and the driver went into the Bunny Den of glitter and fake boob jobs for an afternoon of crotch humping.
I put the tracker on his vehicle, so I'm waiting on the call from the Boss on whoever was tracking me, to end up at Kurtzwilde's house.”
Mustang smiled at her. Helen was clever on a level he'd never seen, a logical kind of clever which sometimes unnerved him. Her methods of finding out information and sharing it at the precise moment also kind of, sort of, creeped him out. She was telling him this to lead to another fact.
“Jay,” she said, using his informal name, “I got to thinking. What if he has my license plate? I have the registration for the vehicle but didn’t really look at it in detail; is it registered to Helen MacDaniel? Helen Neary? Shenita Nelson? Or is it registered to The Company?”
“It is registered to the Company,” he said.
“And my personal vehicles, are they registered to me or to Greenson Enterprises?” she asked.
He arched an eyebrow, “Greenson Enterprises.”
“Good to know,” she said. “God forbid anything happens to either of us, but I don't know. If I go to work and don't come back or you have a misfortune on the way home to me, will Greenson Enterprises take care of your widow or my widower?”
Mustang didn't know what to say. It was a conversation that married people had, and they were in fact married.
His fear of her leaving home to go cap a bastard and it going sideways had visited him once, and now it was back.
He rose, collected his phone, and returned to the table.
He pressed a button and waited for an answer.
“State your need,” the familiar voice of Gabriel Neary said.
“Assistance, of the marital type,” he said to the voice.
“Trouble in paradise so soon? I mean, Aunt Ruth called asking questions, and I assume you have a wedding date. I am looking forward to dancing with your lovely bride,” the voice said.
“Down boy,” Mustang replied. “Different marital issue. Greenson Enterprises needs to add a partner or whatever it needs to be in case anything happens to me so the little lady is cared for all her days.”
“Oh, okay,” the voice said. “Anything else?”
“No, that's all, everything good on your end?”
“Pretty much. Can I bring the kid to the reception?” he asked. “Getting a sitter is hard, and I'm not too comfortable with it you know.”
“I think she's factored in all of that,” Mustang said, laughing. “It is going to be quite the event.”
“With her, I can only imagine.”
“No, you couldn't possibly. Thanks. Mustang out,” he said, ending the call. He looked at Helen. “Done.”
“I guess I need to get to the bank and do the same,” she said, looking him deeply in the eyes.
“Jay, on another note, Mr. Supertracker, how do I track land purchases? I want to know who owned the Field of Flowers in Milwaukee. If I can find who owns them, I can trace the money and the buyer, which I hope will lead me back to the Wormtail and Swallowood.”
“Hornworm and Swallowtail,” he gently corrected.
“Yeah, them flesh peddling bitches,” she said. “I want to find their money and wreck their shit.”
Helen paused. “How would I track my payments through a bank? You know the ones I receive for doing my contract job? Can you show me on my Technician laptop?”
“Sure,” he said, watching her face. “You left the training. She could have shown you how to do all of that.”
“The best tracker in the continental United States sleeps beside me each night for the rest of my life,” she said. “If I can be taught by the best, then damn the rest.”
He blushed a bit at the praise, adding, “You didn't like her, did you?”
“Nope,” Helen said. “Jay, I don't think she likes herself, but I tried not to judge since I'm in no position to question anyone's life choices, especially the ones made by circumstances.
Anyhoo, I want to trace some money and take a breather before next week and having to let your mother know I'm home and also let my mother know I'm getting married.”
“Are you inviting your mother for a weekend visit like you did with your Dad?”
“Hell, no. She doesn't need to know where I live,” she said. “Trust me, it's easier for everyone.”
He didn't say anything, and Helen didn't need him to, but she could tell he had something on his mind. She rose to refresh her coffee and did the same for him. She offered a soft smile.
“I got a letter from Oscar. He enclosed a picture of him in two chairs pretending he was canoeing,” Jay said.
“I bet that is simply adorable,” Helen replied.
“Yeah, there is this thing next month at the job,” he said. “I was thinking about, I don't know. My thoughts centered around reaching out to Apple, seeing if he wanted to bring the boy to take part.”
“What kind of thing? You know Apple was a Seal Team Commander; he might have flashbacks of missions or some shit and go ballistic on those mouth breathers you work with at the office. What kind of thing?”
“He was? I didn't know that!”
“Yeah, Annapolis grad too. I think he said he's an electrical engineer by trade,” she said.
“You don't say!” Mustang’s mind was working, and the idea he had simply got better the more he thought about it.
“Helen, there is a father and son camping trip with the job. I was thinking about taking Oscar. I also need a shit ton of electrical work done in your new office. Do you think if I asked nicely, Apple would come and help?”
“Or you could ask Ricky,” she said, laughing.
“And hell no. I still think he wants to fight me, not for you, but to see if he can take me down,” Mustang said. “I would stomp his ass just to watch him bleed.”
“Good grief; that was all aggressive and all alpha male,” she said, scowling, “and it turned me on. I mean really on. Tell me again, how you would stomp him.”
“Listen here, lady,” he said, standing up. “I would grab him like this, around his neck, choke him out, until his eyes rolled up...”
He allowed the words to drift off as he made his way down the hall towards the bedroom. Helen followed behind him, swaying in the long maxi dress, her hands in the pockets of her sweater. She was home for good; the office would get set up, and she would begin to work on her wedding.
“Sir, where are you leading me?” she asked playfully, knowing it was to the bedroom. Saturdays were their quiet time to sleep in, snuggle, and love one another. Now that she was home, they could begin to set a routine closing a chapter on the instability of her training regimen as a Technician.
****
“HEY,” JAY SAID IN THE line to Apple, “I'm sorry to bother but I have two things I want to run by you.”
“Go ahead,” Apple said.
“Next month, there is this father and son camping thing on my job. It's at the lake. I'm taking my canoe, and I was wondering if I could maybe take Oscar.”
“He'd love that, Mustang,” Apple said, “but that's one. What's the other thing?”
“I wanted to know if you'd be willing to bring him down because I need your professional help,” he said. “I'm more than willing to pay for your time.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“I have these outbuildings on the property. Well, not really outbuildings because they were used for residences I guess,” Mustang said.
“Helen is converting one for her Technician office, and the wiring is shit.
It has to be rewired, plus I'm not sure how I feel about her being here alone, especially with me being gone for the weekend.
I don't know. I feel like something is coming, and I can't prepare for it.
So, I want to err on the side of caution.
She's comfortable with you. If I'm away and you're here with her. ..I don't know. Is it too much to ask?”
Apple was smiling. “Not at all. I also wanted to see what you guys’ house looked like and how it smelled.”
“What?”
“She's, you know, Helen,” he said. “The pink chairs in my house are her doing.
I love them stupid chairs and sit there often to have tea.
I didn't even know I liked tea until I started having it with her in the afternoon with them little foofy ass sammiches. Yes, before you ask, Stephen makes an awesome cucumber sandwich.”
“I thought you were going to say pimento cheese,” Mustang chuckled.
“I'm not that Southern,” Apple replied. “But I'd be glad to lend a hand, so send me some dates. Did Cranberry mention to you the tracker we found on her vehicle?”
“Yeah, that's part of my concern,” Mustang said.
“Mine too. Did she tell you what she did with it?”
“Yep, which is the second part of the concern; her outsmarting whoever is looking is a red flag waving brightly in the morning sky. Men like a challenge, and she just threw down the gauntlet,” Mustang replied. “The job has now turned into a personal mission or a vendetta.”
“Whoever it is needs to tread lightly. The Fer de Lance has put out the word to stay away from her,” Apple added. “Whoever did this is not only dumb, but dangerous. You asked for an assist, and I got you.”
“Thanks, Apple. I will send the dates. I think they coincide with his Spring Break. I will get the camping gear if you can outfit Oscar,” Mustang said.
“Roger that. Apple out,” he said, ending the call. “This should be interesting.” However, he was actually looking forward to it and to seeing their home. He imagined all sorts of cutesy shit all over the place. What he would find when he arrived was another story altogether.
****
THE MONDAY QUIETNESS felt like a new day to Helen as she waved good day to her man, seeing him off to the office.
She loved this part. At the dining room table, she took out her planner, then her Technician tablet.
She sipped her coffee as she plugged in the information Mustang had taught her to enter into the black screen.
Rows and rows of properties, buildings, and developments popped up under Michael Kurtzwilde.
“This dude right here,” she said, hitting print for the addresses and locations to spit out in the office.
She listened carefully for the printer, but then a new sound erupted from the office. The fax machine. Helen's eyes grew wide. Mustang wasn't home. Faxes didn't come in when a body wasn't home. Therefore, the fax coming in was for her.
The fax was for The Cranberry.
The Cranberry had an assignment.
“Aww man, I hope I don't have to go and kill somebody. I don't feel like doing that, and I was planning to bake a pie tonight,” she scowled, rising slowly.
Her feet were almost dragging as she reached the fourth bedroom and spotted the fax machine. A lone piece of paper stuck out as if the machine were about to give her a wet raspberry. Helen tore off the sheet and read the words.
Find this girl. Get as much information from her as you can. Take her to the safe house listed below. Report back.
“Seems simple enough,” Helen said, taking the fax and jotting down the information. The fax itself she placed in the shredder. A text came through on her Technician's phone with an image of a teen girl. “I'm sure she no longer looks anything like that, but I shall go look.”
In her heart, she wanted to call Mustang to let him know she'd received a fax. Her gut told her to shut the hell up and tell him about her adventure over dinner, if even then. However, right now her priority was going to work.