Society Rules (13 page)

She walked off with a slightly exaggerated sway that Will could not help but notice.

As did Baker.

Will cleared his throat as his partner smirked.

“Yeah. Well. I’m just going to see what’s what with Mark, okay? I’ll be back.” He nodded toward Baker’s computer. “You might as well bookmark that shit, because I have a feeling we’re going on a field trip.”

“Sure thing, stud muffin. I never noticed your natural flair with the ladies before. Interesting.”

“There’s nothing interesting, and I don’t have a flair . . . I have a
wife
, you dig?”

“Oh I can dig it, dude. I sure can,” replied Baker with infuriating smugness.

He was elated. Nothing pleased him more than busting free of the confines of office space, for a little “hands on” work.

Will grunted with irritation. No doubt, the expectation of the six files getting researched would remain intact, in spite of this unexpected detour in the plan. This just meant that he would have to work on Intel at home tonight.

Just like he had the past three hundred and sixty-five days this past year.

Just like every year.

He just hoped he could get the guy with an itch for media glory to see reason quickly. He
would
see reason, without a doubt. There would be no compromise. It was just a matter of escalation, and how high up the scale they would have to go to make the man see things the Federal Government’s way.

Grabbing his laptop, he stuffed it into its case with careful hands. He was going to have to do a stat background of this individual on the way to the scene. He wouldn’t have time to learn the guy’s entire life story, but if he was married or had kids, just the mention of their names and schools, or places of employment was usually enough to show people that the strange visitors meant business.

The threats were vague but implicit, and most recipients of a visit from Will or any other member of his team tended to capitulate very quickly.

Single citizens were tougher, but not much. They had family too, and there was generally at least one person whose potential safety could be used as leverage. When he had enough time though, Will could really terrify a person by reciting to them every intimate detail of their lives, starting from their date of conception, and ending with what they bought at the supermarket the night before.

His quiet demeanor only served to further freak people out, which was very helpful in his line of work.

If it came down to it . . . if someone played at being unusually stupid and defiant, then things could get very ugly very fast. A removal of an individual was rare, but not unheard of.

Whatever was necessary for the protection of the people.

It was this aspect of the job that Will hated. Intimidating civilians really sickened him, especially using the thinly veiled implication of harm to someone’s children.

That was down and dirty, and damn near unforgiveable.

He knew that he would never actually touch someone’s child, for any reason. It was all for effect, and worked incredibly well.

Although Will, straightforward as a bullet from a gun, was not one for superstition or self-delusion, one game he played within his own mind, just so he could continue to live with himself, was a simple game of words.

He worked with excruciating care to make sure he never directly spoke the actual
words
that he would take action against someone’s family. The threat was there, but he refused to say it.

It was a bullshit game, he knew, and made no difference, but it allowed him to keep breathing.

Speaking the name of a subject’s significant other or child in the right tone was as far as he would go. And true statements, like
“We
would
hate
for
anything
to
happen
to
your
beautiful
family
”, were part of the game.

He told himself that it
was
true . . . he really
would
hate for any harm to come to anyone’s family. But that’s not how the subjects would take it.

Oh no.

His emotional control was such, that it left no doubt in the minds of his targets that he would follow up a visit with them by swinging by the school or daycare or workplace of their offspring or spouse if they did not agree to forget all about any alien or otherworldly encounter that they had actual proof of, and to surrender any footage or artifacts supporting their claims.

It took Will days to recover from the internal torment of a really tough assignment. He could visualize the faces of all of his targets as it slowly dawned on them that they were helpless, and that their own government was capable of such strong-armed tactics. That’s when the terror set in.

And it was always made one hundred percent clear that should the target attempt to call or try to meet with someone to tattle-tale about the evil government’s threats, that it would be known immediately, and that the penalty for that kind of stupidity would be unthinkable.

“Even
if
you
whisper
about
us
to
your
wife
while
you
are
making
love
to
her
 . . .
we
will
know
it
 . . .” Will had spoken those words in his deep menacing voice to his last terrified target, who was shaking with fear. “
And
the
ramifications
would
be
quite
severe.”

No one ever guessed at the silent burden that Will carried with him on a daily basis because of these confrontations at which he famously excelled.

“
Ah,
yeah
 . . .” Will sighed to himself.
“The
good
old
Federal
government,
in
league
with
the
Air
Force Special
Activities
Center; breaking
down
overly
loudmouthed
citizens
since
1946.”

Obviously, they did not confront everyone with a claim to the odd or supernatural. Only the credible ones with irrefutable evidence. The crappy, grainy, and shaky video footage of Bigfoot or flying saucers, people were welcome to share with the public.

Most personal encounters were unprovable, and therefore no threat either.

The people who earned a visit had to be in possession of very special evidence or stories, and they had to be made silent.

One way or another.

It was a dirty job, and he did it better than anyone . . . and it was slowly killing him. Every confrontation caused Will to draw just a little deeper inside the emotional cocoon he’d spun around himself.

He could only imagine what it would do to him to think that his kids were in danger from anyone. It made him crazy and overly protective of them, probably out of the guilt he carried.

He hoped the theory of Karma was a load of crap, but he wasn’t so sure.

Will was trying to get moved into more of an investigative role on the team, but so far, all of
those
positions would require a transfer, and Indie had made it clear that she wasn’t leaving this area anytime soon.

So for now, the idea remained shelved; nothing more than a wistful twinge in his gut.

Oh well. He was going to see his boss, wasn’t he?

At least Baker would be pumped.

Will returned from Levinson’s office twice as irritated as when he left. Shit, this day was going from bad to worse. What else could go wrong, he wondered as he punched his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, and slipped his sunglasses into place.

He shifted his shoulders a little uncomfortably at the snug fit.

It was seriously time to plan a quick shopping trip to Boston, and soon. His lunch hour workouts had become increasingly aggressive, and the results were beginning to show.

This was perhaps Will’s single vanity, except for maybe his pride, and the Brooks Brothers shop at seventy-five State Street in downtown Boston was his personal clothing oasis. Well, he would have to think about when he could make that happen later.

He looked over at Baker, who was draped over the cubicle wall in meaningless verbal play mode with a woman from the public relations department.

“Baker!” Will barked, and he watched as Baker slowly turned his head, a sexed up look in his eyes.

“Let’s go. You can request some
private
relations when we get back.” “I’m ready, Grandpa, just waitin’ on you!”

Will ignored the jibe, as always.

“Right. Let’s put this mother on the road, shall we?”

“Put it to it, Taylor!” The two men walked purposefully out of the office, stopping to collect their weapons from small lockers before exiting the building. The keys to those lockers were guarded closely by a well-armed young man. Shawn took a look up when they reached the outside entrance.

“It’s God damned
hot
today, man!” Baker exclaimed, as he shoved back his aviators. Will looked neither left nor right as he moved steadily down the granite steps. It
was
hot. Bullshit hot.

“Yep. Kind of warm for March.” He handed Baker the file and opened his computer case as he activated his earpiece. “Blake, we’re ready for the car, please.”

All
business,
aren’t
you,
Taylor
, thought Baker, feeling somewhat sulfurous.

A sleek, black limo pulled up in front of the building almost immediately, and as he got inside, Will took a stealthy look up at the glimmering sun above him, and pushed aside a sudden foreboding that planted itself in the center of his belly.

He gathered up his strength and used it all to keep his non-committal expression in place, and after an imperceptible hesitation, slammed the door firmly shut.

Chapter 9

“What took you so long to answer the door? Are you okay?” Indie’s mother-in-law eyed her suspiciously. Marie Taylor kicked at Max with a pointed shoe as she spoke. She detested dogs, being decidedly more of a cat person.

“I’m fine, Marie, really,” Indie fibbed.

“But I called your work, and they said you were sick. I thought I would find you in here dead.” She laughed a little. “You never call in.”

Indie thought furiously.

“I needed a . . . mental health day?” It wasn’t like it was really a lie, was it?

Marie looked at her shrewdly.

Well, Indie thought, she should love hearing
that
. Although she had always been pleasant to Indie, it was clear that she also wasn’t entirely satisfied with her as the one who “took away her boy,” and so unexpectedly.

Ugh. Indie hoped that
she
wouldn’t be this way when Jake married.

I
probably
will
be.
No
one
good
enough
for
my
little
son.
She had to smile at the thought.

“A mental health day? What on Earth could be so wrong in
your
life that you needed to miss work?”

Indie did not miss the inflection. “Look, I’m just tired, and have a lot on my mind right now . . . I needed some quiet time.”

“So what is weighing so heavily on your mind?” Marie pressed, leaning her petite frame against the kitchen counter.

Nothing
I
want
to
tell
you
about
,
that’s
for
sure
.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s hormonal.”

Marie paused. “I always forget your age. Maybe you’re pre-menopausal,” she offered hopefully. This would give her something to gossip about at the real estate office where she worked downtown. Indie could just hear her now
; “My
daughter-in-law
is
going
through
menopause,
can
you
imagine!”

“Maybe so,” Indie fed her, grateful for the offering. “Please, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but was there something specific that you were trying to reach me for? You never call my work.”

Marie put forth her best wounded expression before answering. “Well, I tried to call Will first.”

Of
course
you
did
, Indie mentally interrupted.

“They told me he was out of the office, and he hardly ever returns my calls, and . . .”

“So what did you need, Marie?” Indie interrupted aloud this time, in a most uncharacteristic show of impatience. She certainly did not want to hurt her mother-in-law’s feelings, but she couldn’t wait to get her out of the house.

“Well . . .
nothing
, really. I was just concerned because I haven’t spoken to my son in a few days, and I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

Indie resisted the urge to remind the woman that her son was not only thirty-five years old, but had a wife and children, all of whom had her cell phone number to call if any dark tragedy had taken place concerning Will. She should know he was perfectly fine.

At least for the moment.

Her guilt surged forward at the reminder that Will may be in for a rough evening, actually. But she was not about to broach that subject with Marie.

“Will is fine, of course Marie. He’s just always very busy, as you well know.”

“But too busy for his mother?” Marie pouted.

Don’t
feel
so
left
out,
Marie.

“You know he doesn’t mean to neglect you. He just gets overwhelmed with work I guess. I’ll have him call you, okay?”

Marie thought for a moment. “Yes, he does work awfully hard. Too hard, I tell him. Trying to provide for you and the kids.”

This irked Indie, but she swallowed it down admirably.

“Yes, Marie. We
both
work hard to provide for our family.” Indie looked over her shoulder briefly, still somehow feeling certain that Jackson was nearby and it made her uneasy. She didn’t think that an introduction to Will’s mom at this stage in the game would be such a great plan.

“Please, I think I need to lie down. I really don’t feel right at all, so . . . if there’s nothing else . . . .”

“No, nothing else. I was just curious, er, I mean
worried
.” She smiled.

Indie smiled back. “Okay, then.”

Marie hesitated, then finally gave up and headed out the door with a sigh.

Indie could tell that she wasn’t at all satisfied with her quest for any information she could latch onto where Will was concerned, but it would just have to do for now. She said her goodbyes once more, thanking Marie for her “concern” as she shut the door behind her, and leaned back onto it, dismissing the woman instantly from her thoughts.

She allowed her mind to go right where it wanted to go.

My
senses
are
not
complete
until
I
am
joined
with
whom
I
belong?

Her head reeled with Jackson’s words. Maybe she really did need to lie down. Indie went to her room, and threw open the curtains, so that the beautiful mountain view was visible. Beauty in nature was always a comfort to her, and she absorbed the familiar scene with a soft sigh.

She moved to lie down on the bed, facing the window and closed her eyes, feeling a fierce need to see this strange and beautiful man again. The man who was threatening to throw her entire life out of balance. She opened them again, and he stepped into view at the far end of the deck.

Indie wasn’t startled, or even surprised. It was as if she had known he would be there. He stood, leaning back on the railing and looking at her, his hands crammed in his jacket pockets. She just let him stand there for a moment while she appraised him, his rich brown hair stirring in the breeze as he waited.

Indie’s mind began to formulate an entirely self-centered form of reasoning, and dissected the situation in all the wrong ways. But she surrendered to her own mind’s madness.

What
would
any
woman
in
the
world
do
in
this
situation?
Her mutinous mind asked.
A
man
 . . .
the
most
appealing,
attractive
man
that
you’ve
ever
seen
in
your
entire
life
shows
up
on
your
doorstep
, her brain argued,
and
announces
that
he
was
born
just
for
you!

Indie snapped her head back and forth, but her thoughts continued to flow.

He wasn’t just physical perfection either; there was more to it. He exuded an essence that told her he would be a true partner to her. This man, Jackson, soothed her parched soul, as dramatic as this seemed. What was happening? Did she finally actually fall asleep, and find herself in the middle of a dream? Or was it a nightmare.

In a sudden and blinding flash of insight, Indie felt a sick, suffocating realization wash over her.

She was going to hurt her husband.

And her children.

This had somehow just become an inevitable certainty, and it filled her with sadness. No one deserved to be hurt like that.

Her
children!
They loved their father just as much as they loved her, and she shuddered at the thought of the accusation she would see in their eyes. Cassidy especially.

Nevertheless, she was going to let it happen, monstrous as the thought was. She knew it, with a clarity that was without question.

Indie drew in a deep, steadying breath as she got up, and in a complete exercise of free-will, slowly walked her destined path to the door that led to the deck.

Without a pause, Indie opened the door to let him in.