Dyce Trouble
Vex
Every time I set foot onto Willow Street, I expect it to be the same as it was all those years ago when I was hired to protect a bunch of street kids. The street kids are still finding this place, but it isn’t a rundown hovel. It could double for a posh neighborhood where snooty people drink fifty-dollar glasses of wine. Only the adults walking down the sidewalk with their fancy clothes and kids in strollers were once street kids.
They are the ones who helped three women who refused to believe in the word impossible transform this place.
My favorite addition to Willow Street was added by the woman who gave me what little humanity that I manage to pretend to have. Louisella Belladonna Wright never gave up on me, no matter how rude I was to her or how many bodies I put in the ground through the years .
Though she only knows about a trifling few.
If there was ever a scent that could be bottled to bring people comfort, it’s the scent of a library. Secret journeys, impossible adventures, and all the knowledge the world holds can be imagined simply by smelling an old book.
Louisella filled this space with books of every kind. And she’s added more since the last time I visited.
In the past when I’d visit, I’d hope to see her if only for a brief moment. Today, I hope she isn’t here, because that woman doesn’t know how to mind her own business. There’s no way I’m answering any questions about Dahlia. Or worse, bringing her over for dinner and an interrogation.
Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to be in the library today.
Dyce will be in one of the back quiet rooms that are meant for study groups and small training sessions. They’re private and soundproof. The perfect spot for a clandestine meeting.
And there’s Dyce right on time.
“Vex.”
She steps into the room, and I close the door behind us.
“Dyce. To what do I owe the pleasure of this weekend excursion?” Dyce Locke is a piranha even without her power suit and the briefcase she normally carries around like a warrior. In the courthouse, she fights to win for her clients, no matter what it takes.
There’s no need to ask if she’s safe here. Even a fool wouldn’t step onto Willow Street with ill intent.
“My client’s husband followed me home.”
And? She’s had dozens of violent men who stepped past reason and needed to be taught a lesson, some even permanently. None of those required a visit from me.
“All his previous girlfriends disappear after they break up.”
Two serial killers in a month, sadly, won’t be a record for me. “And Maddox can’t handle that?”
“There aren’t any bodies. ”
So he’s smart?
“Also, he tells everyone that he received a large inheritance from his grandfather, but his grandfather was completely broke when he died. There haven’t been any large deposits. This guy’s accounts are perfectly middle-class. But he spends cash like it’s water.”
Missing women and large infusions of cash go way beyond Maddox’s scope. He needs to play nice to protect Willow Street.
“This guy is trafficking women. I know it in my bones.”
Dyce is rarely wrong, and it’s doubtful she is this time. “Do I need to provide your client with a safe space until the problem is resolved?”
“No. Maddox moved her into a safe location.”
A.k.a. with one of his men. That’s one less worry for me. “Give me everything you’ve got.”
She holds out a file folder like it was a given that I’d take this on.
Irksome woman. She just ruined my weekend with Dahlia. “Give Maddox my regards.” I step out of the room. There’s no point in wasting time with small talk.
“Vex. I heard you were in my library.”
“Mrs. Wright.” Just the person I wanted to avoid. But you don’t avoid Louisella Belladonna Wright. She hasn’t changed much over the years, even though her hair’s gotten to be more salt than pepper. Wisdom has etched itself across her face, but age hasn’t dimmed her eyes. I’m in for an interrogation.
“Everyone is talking about you.”
Not surprising. The tongues of gossips around here never idle.
“They say you’re seeing someone.” She stares at me with an intensity that tells me she’s pulling all the secrets from my soul. “What’s her name?”
“Dahlia.” Why did I say that? I never tell anyone but Payne and Barb about my personal affairs.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“She’s a beautiful woman. ”
“Well then, you’ll be bringing her over so Matthew and I can meet her. Shall we say Sunday at four?”
Sunday? Dinner? Four? Now isn’t the time to introduce her. “Things are too new. We’re just getting to know each other.” Why did I say that? I never make excuses.
With anyone but Louisella.
“Fine, then I’ll see you two in a month.” Louisella pats my shoulder and walks away.
There’s no arguing. It’s set in stone. Almost like the jeweled knife that’s been stuck in a board in the library since Louisella married Matthew all those years ago. The gems alone are probably worth millions, but not one of the street kids has ever touched it. No one messes with her.
How am I going to explain to Dahlia that she needs to be interrogated by a mob widow and a mercenary that I’m not related to?
That’s a problem for tomorrow. It’s bad enough I need to message her now.
Me: Something came up. I’m going to be busy for the rest of the day.
A response comes two seconds later.
Dahlia: Ok.
Dahlia: Did you eat your breakfast?
No anger. No complaints. Just concern.
Me: Sure did. The smoothie was great. Thank you.
Dahlia: I enjoyed my breakfast too.
Now isn’t the time to play games with her. Pull off the bandage.
Me: I might not be back until breakfast tomorrow.
Especially with Payne completely distracted by Imogene. I won’t have backup.
Dahlia: Oh ok.
I can practically feel the long sigh in that pause.
Me: Do you want anything special for breakfast?
Dahlia: You home safe.
How does such a small woman throw the strongest punches ?
Me: Don’t worry. Nothing dangerous is happening today.
Which is actually the truth. This guy—I open the folder and look for his name—Eamon Griffon Plant, needs me to tread lightly and figure out just what mess I’m stepping into.
Me: I’m just heading to the club now to talk to my tech guy.
Dahlia: Have fun at work.
Does anyone have fun at work?
Payne: Can we talk?
That’s not good.
Me: Meet at the club in 20?
I’m headed there anyway to talk to Shock.
Payne: Can’t. Imogene isn’t up to going out.
Payne needs me to step in. This isn’t healthy for him. He barely survived his own trauma. He doesn’t need to fight through this woman’s. Payne rescued her. Now it’s time for doctors to do the rest. I’m going to make that happen, even if I need to drag her out of his place after I knock him out.
Me: I need to get with Shock first. Then I’ll head to your place.
This day gets worse and worse.
An afternoon in bed with a good book and a beautiful woman seems like nothing but a dream right now.
***
Shock is strange. He’s the quintessential nerd, brilliant with computers, terrible with everything else, including remembering to pay a bill. Hence the reason we have him stashed in a loft space above a club. After his third eviction, it just seemed easier if we handled the rest of his life for him and let him focus on what he does best.
Which certainly isn’t cleaning. I climb over the mountain of empty cans and takeout containers on the way to Shock’s office .
The cleaners need to come up here daily, it seems.
Has Shock left his chair in the last week?
It’s an amazing chair to be fair. He can literally recline it to the point where his feet are above his head. It vaguely resembles the chair you find in a dentist’s office, only with more bells and whistles than you’d find on a space shuttle.
“Shock.”
“Hey, Vex.” Shock doesn’t turn away from the nine screens he’s currently watching. One is the security feed. Another seems to be scrolling lines of code. Is he playing two different games at the same time?
Don’t ask. You don’t want to know. Once Shock goes off on a tangent explaining a game or some nerdy topic, there’s no getting him back. “I need some information.”
“Everything is fine at the club.”
We have a procedure in place if it wasn’t that doesn’t include me coming up to Shock’s little world. “I need a background check.”
Shock’s fingers stop moving. “How fast?”
“Before he sells another woman would be good.”
The space chair swings around. “You think he’s solo, or are we looking at an operation here?”
“Not sure. The name is Eamon Plant. And his girlfriends seem to disappear.”
“Ahh. It’s going to take a week.”
He always says that. “What do you need to make it go faster?”
“Can’t. It’s impossible.”
Nothing is impossible with the right motivation.
“Vex.” Barb pops her head into the office.
“What do you need?” Barb doesn’t seek people out unless she needs something. I slowly turn to face her.
“I’ve been doing the monthly inventory.”
And?
“It’s not in my budget, but I want to order a new machine. ”
What is with her and toys? We’re getting to the point where her little stash of emergency supplies could be considered a fully stocked hospital. The only thing we’re missing is an MRI and a heart and lung machine. “Do you need it or want it?”
“Um.” Barb stares down at her shoes.
Why did I even ask? Money isn’t an issue. “Buy it.”
“Thanks. Hey Shock.” She gives him a small smile. “I better go get that done.”
Shock doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even blink.
Earth to Shock.
If I thought Shock might ever build up the nerve to speak to Barb, I would warn him off, but Shock has no game. In all the years he’s worked for me, I’ve never seen him speak to a woman, let alone go out with one. “Shock.”
“Huh?” He looks up from where he was staring at the empty doorway.
“I need that information in two days. This man threatened someone from Willow Street.”
“Fine. I’ll get it done.”
“Quietly.”
“No one ever sees me.” The chair swings around and Shock disappears into a virtual world.
***
“Payne.” I step off of his private elevator and into his foyer.
“We’re in here.”
We… That woman needs to go.
“Vex.” Imogene climbs off Payne’s lap and rushes towards me. “I just wanted to say thank you again for saving me. I didn’t think there was any way I was ever getting out of that pit.” Imogene hugs me. “Thank you so much.”
That wasn’t what I expected .
“Payne said you two need to talk business. I’m going to order some lunch for us. Would you like something?”
Order lunch? “A sandwich would be great. I’m not picky.”
She nods.
“We’ll go into the office.” Payne nods to the room right next to where I’m standing. He closes the glass doors but stays in front of them in clear view of Imogene.
“Why is she still here?”
Payne rakes his fingers through his hair. “I tried. Temperance Vincenti offered to arrange care at some wonderful in-patient clinics. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let her go.”
“That’s messed up. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. But it doesn’t matter. I want her here. No, I need her here. There’s something about her… I think we’re meant to be together.”
Stupid. I shouldn’t have ever let him come. And I certainly shouldn’t have let him go down in that pit.
“How did you feel when you first saw Dahlia?”
What? “This isn’t the same thing.”
“Why isn’t it? Didn’t you rescue her?”
“From a guy in a bar. Not a pit where she was tortured. Need I remind you, a pit way too similar to the one your father would throw you in on occasion.”
“He only threw me in a pit twice before I figured out how to get out, then he moved on to something else.” Payne turns to check on Imogene.
She’s got her head down, ordering our food.
“Payne.”
“How did you know?”
Payne is like a dog with a bone. He’s not going to let this foolish idea go. “The first words she said hit me in the gut. And every time I see her, I want to be with her more than the moment before.” It’s like an unhealthy addiction. Only Dahlia isn’t broken like Imogene.
Dahlia’s perfect .
“See, I knew it. I sunk down into that pit and knew she was mine and I’m never letting her go.”
No.
No.
No. How do I fix this? Payne wouldn’t go to therapy… not that I believe in therapy. Talking about your feelings seems like a waste of time. Kill the person and get over it. But there’s no person left to kill and no one else to tell him this is a stupid idea.
“Why were you at the club seeing Shock? Did he forget to do something like pay his taxes again?”
That was a mess. He almost ended up in prison. “Dyce gave me a name.”
“Dyce? She hasn’t talked to you in years.”
That’s because she doesn’t like me.
“The last time she gave you a name… What are we going to do?”
“’We’ aren’t going to do anything. You can’t leave Imogene.”
Payne’s head snaps back to Imogene. She’s watching the television, but checking for Payne every few minutes. “Temperance suggested that Imogene needs a friend as well as therapy.”
And why would he call me about this? “Then have her call one of her friends. Surely, they will come over.”
“Imogene refuses to talk to anyone she knew before. She doesn’t want them to see her like this.”
Women make my head hurt. “Then what are we supposed to do?” I’m certainly not going to take the place of this woman’s girlfriends.
“I was thinking… who better to understand what Imogene is going through than someone who might have—”
He’s talking about — “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
“Hear me out for a second.”
“No. There’s no discussion. We aren’t dragging Dahlia into this mess. That’s not happening. She doesn’t need—”
“What doesn’t she need?” Payne steps forward. “Tread carefully, my friend.”
Payne and his obsession are going to drive me out of my mind. “Dahlia doesn’t need to know just how close a call it really was. She doesn’t need to know how bad it could have been.”
A brittle laugh follows me. “You don’t think she doesn’t already know that? You don’t think she hasn’t thought about all the things that could have happened to her? Why do you think her hand shakes? Why do you think she almost had a panic attack? Women get it. They know exactly what could happen if they’re roofied. You’re not protecting her. You’re putting your head in the sand.”
He’s wrong.
“Temperance—you know, the doctor that deals with cases like this all the time—suggested that it might be beneficial for both of them.”
My friend doesn’t lie to me, but none of that makes sense. Dahlia is fine. She doesn’t need to see the damage that was done to Imogene.
But Payne is right, she almost had a panic attack. “I’ll go talk to Temperance myself. If she can convince me that it’s in Dahlia’s best interest, I’ll think about it.”
“Good. So, what’s the plan with the soon-to-be dead man?”
“No plan. I’m going to get to know him first. Then I’ll take care of him.”
“We’re a team. I’ll be there when you need me. Seriously, even if we need to call Barb in to sit with Imogene, I’ll be there.”
Payne would do just that. “Let’s wait and see before we jump.”
“Dyce isn’t wrong about these things.”
She’s not. I don’t have time for any of this today.
***
Stakeouts haven’t gotten any better the older I’ve gotten. It’s still boring. But I prefer doing it myself rather than having Shock hack into the camera feeds around the soon-to-be dead man’s place. All the cameras people have placed around their homes does make it tempting.
But rarely does something covert happen where they live.
Payne isn’t going to give me a long time to decide. He can be a bit persistent.
Time to set up a meet.
Me: Does your mother have a few minutes to talk to me?
Max: Are you going to bring cookies too?
What in the world does that mean?
Me: ?
Max: Never mind. Why do you want to talk to her?
Me: I have a question about our mutual friend.
Max: Can you make it over before dinner?
Nothing exciting is happening here.
Me: Sure. About an hour?
Max: See you then.
I wish you weren’t.
Plant steps out of the subway station.
Dyce… You failed to mention a tiny little detail.
He’s a cop.
A dirty cop just made my day exponentially worse. No wonder why Maddox had to stay hands-off.
Next time Dyce messages me, I’m going on vacation.
Are the other cops aware that Plant is dirty? I don’t often bother with cops, but Cormac Masters has been a straight shooter. What’s one more meeting? Today seems to be the day I spend time with everyone but the woman I want to.
Me: We need to talk.
Cormac: When?
Me: This evening.
Cormac: Tonight is kind of busy.
Patience isn’t my thing. Especially when women are being trafficked.
Me: I can come to you. Just need 15 min .
There’s a long pause.
Cormac: The park on fifth at 11.
And there goes dinner with Dahlia.