6. Connor
Connor
Ekatia lives in a studio apartment on the ground floor of a building that looks like it’s been here since Selnoa’s founding. The cracks need remodeling, and the paint’s nonexistent. Once upon a time, the building was gray.
She probably lives here because this is all she can afford that’s within a reasonable walking distance from the hospital.
The old wooden windows are open, but the barbs and bars on the outside that have been placed there for safety reasons keep the intruders away while airing out the apartment. The inside smells like it’s been freshly painted. I bet they covered up the mold.
She’s a tidy person. Everything has its place. In the bathroom, I find no evidence of drug use, not even headache medicine. She’s a tidy, healthy person.
I move to the kitchenette area and open the fridge. It’s well stocked with delivered boxed meals, so she doesn’t cook. In the cupboards, there are cans, pasta, and lemonade powder. Ekatia doesn’t bake either.
Since it’s a studio, it takes my brain no time at all to gather information. I sit on the couch and stare at the empty wall in front of me. What kind of person has no TV in their apartment? No pictures either. Not even of her and the baby. It’s all very bland.
She’s starting over, she said. That explains it.
There’s some kind of a bag between the couch and the wall on my right. I pull it out. It’s a black diaper bag. What’s a diaper bag doing here if the baby is at my house? She had one with her. This is a spare. I wish I knew more about parenting.
Inside it, I find two packs of diapers, two large cans of baby formula, a tube of diaper rash medicine, baby medicine, a first aid kit, passports, cash, and is that a gun at the bottom of the bag?
I stick my hand in there and pull out an old Glock. “Nah, baby, come on. This is too heavy for you and bulky. A Glock? You’re cooler than a Glock.” A small Smith & Wesson would fit nicely in here.
Since I don’t know much about babies, I hit up my phone for research on how many diapers a mom needs for a baby of that size.
I calculate the average day’s worth of supplies in the bag.
Then I research the amount of baby formula needed and calculate how many days she’s packed for.
Quickly, I realize this is not a day bag. This is Mom’s go bag.
I don’t know much about parenting, but I do know a ready go bag when I find one.
Is there a phone in here? There has to be.
I search thoroughly by taking out all the stuff and laying it out on the couch beside me. No phone.
“Fucking amateur.” I go back out and grab a burner from my own go bag in the back of the car, along with some beef jerky and peanuts. The baby will survive whatever apocalypse Mom prepared for, but Mom will starve. Unless she has peanuts and beef jerky. Now she’ll eat nuts.
Does she have peanut allergies?
Why do I care?
She will know if she has them and will not eat the peanuts.
But what if she’s hungry, stranded, and can’t resist?
I hit my head with the base of my hand. STOP. STOP OVERTHINKING.
What if I kill her?
“Stop,” I say out loud and put the peanuts in my pocket. I can’t risk it.
Why not?!
I keep the jerky in the diaper bag and cover it with baby clothes, lay the wrong-for-her gun on top of it, then add the diapers. The formula and other stuff was on the side. Oh, there’s a tiny pocket here.
I stick my hand into it and take out a stack of pictures and a piece of paper with a phone number on it. The stack of pictures comes from the red picture booth near Selnoa’s pier, where tourists mostly go. The baby looks much smaller in it. Ekatia looks happy.
They’re cute together. Harmless. Like baby bunnies.
I pocket the pictures, memorize the number, and place the burner phone in the bag, which I then slide in its storage space between the couch and the wall on my right.
When I leave Ekatia’s apartment, I’m more curious about her than I was before I entered. I must find out everything there is to know about this woman who has unrestricted access to my brother and his fiancée.
Randoms don’t get access to those two unless they’ve got clearance. I grant clearance or I don’t. I’ve researched people and places for clearance in my uncles’ organization, and now I do the same with my brother since my uncles and us have branched off into separate family businesses.
My uncles traffic weapons.
We handle private military recruitment. I also do security on the side. It’s just a gig. A hobby of mine. My brain needs to keep busy. Luckily, Ekatia gives me plenty to do and think about. A puzzle to solve. A cute bunny puzzle.