Chapter Thirteen ABBIE
For some reason, I find myself drawn back to Lyla and her garden, and two days later, she recruits me into helping her mulch the flowerbeds.
I know next to nothing about green things – that was always my mom’s domain - and I wonder what she’d think of her daughter splattered in mud that didn’t come from a dirt bike.
It’s hard not to be drawn into memories of her – the good and the not so happy – but I try to trick my mind into following the rhythms of my body.
Digging, watering, and pushing wheelbarrows around is more tiring than it looks, especially with the sun on your shoulders and a persistent ache in your chest.
I’m in the process of deadheading a butterfly bush – something I never thought I’d find myself doing outside of a twisted dream - when Pitt appears at my side, a strained look on his face.
I’ve just deposited three wheelbarrow loads of dead leaves and withered blooms on the compost pit, and I’m feeling fragrant, to say the least. “You look like you need a hug, but I won’t inflict it on you right now. ”
He smiles, but it doesn’t erase the tension from his eyes. “I have something to show you. Can you come with me for a few minutes?”
He nods towards the security building just over the hedge, and I raise my brows at him. “You mean I’m getting a glimpse behind the curtain? When I used the gun range, I got a feeling there was more to see, but it was one of those need-to-know deals.”
“You were right.” He doesn’t say more, simply waiting until I’ve brushed off my hands and grabbed my water bottle before leading me over to the door.
Unlike the last time when the door just mysteriously opened, he waves a badge over the scanner, and we’re admitted with a loud beep.
The same prospect is sitting behind the desk, and he gives Pitt a respectful nod as he leads me towards another door.
Another scanner, another corridor, and a couple of other club members walk past with more respectful nods in Pitt’s direction.
“We call it the Hub,” Pitt informs me. “It’s the base of operations for all the security businesses.
Ark has recruited guys out of a bunch of military intelligence and special ops units, and they’ve really taken it to another level.
” He opens the door and ushers me inside.
“Come through here. Goldie’s got something to show us. ”
“Goldie?” I click my tongue at the sight of the clinic’s security guard sitting so comfortably in what looks like a high-tech interview room. “So, you really are a Flyer?”
He shuffles his feet under the table, looking sheepish. “Sorry I didn’t say anything earlier, but…”
“It was a need-to-know deal?”
Neither of them can miss the sour note in my voice, but Pitt just places a hand on my shoulder, directing me to the empty seat next to Goldie.
He nods at the laptop, and the security guard loads a video file.
A young, dark-haired guy in jeans and a hoodie appears on the screen, his arms crossed over his chest, and his mouth screwed into a thin line.
He’s sitting across from Goldie in a room I recognize from the omega clinic, and he keeps glancing at the door, like he has somewhere to be.
“This is the guy from the CCTV footage who we caught entering the staff break room,” Goldie tells me.
“He’s an out-patient. Part of a new suppressant trial.
We caught him coming back into the clinic for a routine checkup.
His name is Danny Gleeson. Twenty-two. Unbonded omega. ”
“I don’t recognize him.”
“Makes sense. Have a listen.”
Goldie is clearly jumping into the middle of the interview, the omega looking increasingly annoyed by his questions.
“He came up to me in the parking lot,” he explains in a clipped voice.
“Told me he’d give me five hundred dollars to help him out.
That’s all I know. He didn’t tell me his name, but like I said, he was wearing a white coat. ”
“So, he worked at the clinic?”
“I guess so. He had a badge and he looked like a doctor. Don’t you have records of who works here, or is that security uniform just to show off your muscles?”
Goldie ignores the jab. “Describe him again.”
The omega blows out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know. Like an uptight alpha? Big shoulders, thick jaw, hair with gray at the sides…” He tilts his head, considering, then shrugs. “Dark eyes like yours, but he was wearing glasses and had kind of a big nose. That’s about it.”
“Gray hair, so middle aged? Forties? Fifties?”
“Yeah, whatever.” The omega shrugs again, picking at his finger nails. “He looked like all the other doctors in here.”
Goldie draws his attention back by tapping the table. “So, he gave you five hundred dollars and the backpack. You didn’t think to check, make sure it wasn’t a bomb, or something?”
“A bomb?” The omega rockets upright in his chair, his hands gripping the table edge.
“Are you crazy, bro? He said it was a prank. Confetti knots, or something, because she was getting bonded in a few days.” He glares at Goldie, but I can see his throat bobbing nervously.
“Everyone knows doctors are weird. I just thought it was his lame sense of humor.”
“Did he tell you why he didn’t deliver it himself?”
“Nah, but it was five hundred dollars, man. I got less than half of that on the last trial.”
“Okay. So, he told you where to take the backpack. Then what?”
“It was easy. He had a pass to the back entrance. I walked a couple of corridors, but I just had to follow the reheated meatloaf smells to the break room. No one was there, so I ducked into the sleeping area, found her on her cot, and unloaded the backpack…” He squirms, biting hard on the side of his thumbnail.
“They weren’t paper butterflies, were they? ”
Goldie stares at him, his face a blank mask. “Did he tell you to do anything else?”
“Yeah, he handed me a note. I didn’t read it until I got in there, and then… I heard noises, so I ducked out.” He sits up straighter, defiant again. “Screw that asshole. I wasn’t getting caught harassing some omega while she was sleeping.”
“So, you knew it wasn’t a prank by then?” Another shrug, although he avoids Goldie’s eye and his leg has started to bounce under the table. “What did the note say?”
“I ditched it. First trash can I saw. But I caught a glimpse, and it said something about losing the things we love.” He gulps and peers at Goldie through his fringe. “I didn’t really want to know, okay?”
Goldie pauses the video, the omega’s guilty face filling the screen. “That’s about it. I got him to repeat a few things, and he admitted it was more likely harassment than a prank, but he didn’t have any other details to add.”
Pitt stares down at me, his brow furrowed. “Does this make any sense to you? Have you had issues with a doctor that fits that description?”
I’m already shaking my head. “No. I mean, occasionally there’s an argument between the therapists and the clinical physicians, but nothing like this.”
“Can you tell us more?”
“Well, doctors are all about healing the body, but with trauma victims, the mind is often too damaged to give consent. Some of them are alphas, as well, and the patients can react badly…” I frown, trying to think of anyone who would set up something like this instead of simply coming and having it out with me, face-to-face.
Granted, a lot of doctors only come in for consults, so it’s not like I know everyone, but I honestly think they’re all too busy – and self-involved – for such an obscure prank.
“There might be tension sometimes, but we’re all professionals.
We all want the same outcome. The note really said something about losing our loved ones?
” Goldie nods and I get to my feet, nausea unfurling in my stomach.
“Maybe I treated a family member, or someone in their pack, and it didn’t go well. ”
“You can’t know that,” Goldie says quietly. “Until we find the guy, the motive could be anything.”
Yes, but would he have gone to all the trouble if I had cut in line at the cafeteria and swiped the last tuna salad?
“Thanks, Goldie.” Pitt puts an arm around me as he leads me out of the hub and back into the sunlight.
I take a shaky breath, turning to stare hard at the ground, but Pitt tilts my chin up.
His eyes are soft with sympathy, but there’s a hard note in his voice as he says, “You can’t beat yourself up over this.
Whatever statement this guy was trying to make, it’s not your fault. ”
“Unless I failed to give his loved one proper care.”
“You do your best, and if he’s really a doctor, he knows that better than anyone.” He sighs as I shake my head, still too raw for his reassurances. “We’ll look into it further. But maybe the best thing for now is to stay away from the clinic…”
I whirl on him, my fears and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Is that right? I should just stick to carting around wheelbarrows and making rhinestone underwear while omegas are out there, suffering and in pain?”
Pitt’s eyes widen. “You’re making rhinestone underwear?” He rubs a hand over his face, and I’m pretty sure he’s hiding a smile, but then he shrugs. “Do something else, then. You could always help out at the refuge center here.”
He sounds reasonable - I know he’s being reasonable – but that doesn’t stop my spine from stiffening. “You don’t tell me where to work, Pitt. I’m not one of your little security soldiers.”
“I know that. But I’m responsible for your safety, and until we know more, you need to stay where I can see you.”
I narrow my eyes at him, an old suspicion resurfacing. “Like when you were on my couch? Was that more of this?” I wave my hand in the direction of the hub. “I thought you were there for Wings, not to spy on me.”
He gives me a tired look from under his lashes. “Abbie, I’m the club’s enforcer. I go where Ark sends me.”
I scoff. “And he sent you to my couch?”