The Current Between Us (8 page)

****

“Update me,” Gage said as the door closed behind Trent.

“
Secure line?” one of Gage’s Mexico leads, Manuel, asked back in a thick Spanish accent.

“
It is,” Gage said.

“
I’m in,” Manuel said, his normally craggy voice held a hint of excitement.

“
In the mission?” Gage asked, wondering if he’d heard the words correctly.

“
Yes!” Manuel hissed, clearly proud of the accomplishment.

“
Excellent work! Have you made contact?” Gage asked.
Could it seriously be this easy?

“
No, I will. I’m following him now. It’s too open and unsecure here. I’ve got to watch it, this isn’t making a lot of sense,” Manuel said in a hushed tone.

“
Yeah, I’m aware. Keep your guard up. It’s rarely this easy, something isn’t right. And we’re still positive on the ID?” Gage asked. He sat back in his chair, staring off at nothing in his office as he thought over the possibilities.

“
Did you see the videos?” Manuel asked? All the exuberance from earlier was gone. From years of working with Manuel, Gage knew the guy didn’t play, he was already strategizing over his next move.

“
Yeah,” Gage said.

“
Me too, it’s a match, Mr. Synclair, down to the missing finger. I gotta go.” The connection rustled as though Manuel shifted the position of the phone against his face. “They’re on the move.” Manuel disconnected the call.

Gage
laid his phone on the desk and sat back again in his chair, this time staring out the glass windows into the gallery. Interesting how his hard-on completely deflated with talk of the loser, Abdulla. Hell, loser wasn’t the right word. Loser gave the guy too much credit. He was garbage. Gage covered lots of terrible people over the last ten years who did lots of dreadful deeds, but this guy was the worst of the worst, and now he’d secured two clear positive IDs on Abdulla in the little rundown, thought-to-be-abandoned convent mission in Mexico. It meant they were truly closing in. Bringing Abdulla to justice would be worth everything it took to get here.

Chapter 5

Trent drove his pickup through the tree-lined street of his neighborhood with the window rolled down, letting the gentle breeze coat his skin and enjoying the golden sunset on that late spring evening. He lived on a street where most of the houses were custom built about thirty years ago. He waved at his neighbors as he turned down the long drive that led to his back yard.

The gate sat pushed open, waiting for his arrival. Both Emalynn and Hunter were playing in their custom built jungle gym with Rhonny sitting in her normal spot on the patio, studying from one of her textbooks. Em saw him first and took off running from the swing set straight to the truck, but Hunter soon overtook her smaller stride. Everything became a race to the little guy. It didn
’t matter he beat an almost four-year-old, he loved winning and called it loudly.

“
I win! I beat you, Em!” Hunter declared, tagging the truck with his hand while looking over his shoulder at his sister.

“
Daddy, I wasn’t racing. He didn’t really beat me,” Em said, finally making it to him as he got out of the truck.

“
I know, baby. Hunter’s just at that age,” Trent said, shutting the truck door. Rhonny sat on the porch laughing as he scooped Em up for a big wet kiss on the lips. Hunter wrapped himself around Trent’s leg, giving him a tight hug and Trent reached down to rub his little boy’s head as they began to make their way to the back porch.

“
Why do you always say I’m at that age, Daddy?” Hunter asked, walking alongside him.

“
I say it because it’s what the parenting books say. At this age, he’ll do this. So I just say it back to you when you do something they say you will do at this age,” Trent said, looking down at Hunter’s upturned face. Both the children looked at him with their huge green eyes that seemed to reach out to his soul. He ran his hand over Hunter’s short, dark hair. From Em’s position in his arms, her soft wavy ash blond curls, wisped around her face and tickled his cheeks. It broke his heart to think about cutting her hair so it grew long, curling down her back.

“
Oh, Daddy, did the book say I could do this? Because I learned this at school today,” Hunter said, dropping down to do a very sloppy, but successful front roll in the grass.

“
Good job, man. You know, I don’t think it said you could do it until you were seven,” Trent said as Em began bucking in his arms to get down.

“
Daddy, I want to do it! Please!” Emalynn dropped straight down, landing on her feet, bending her head down to the concrete driveway.

“
Hang on, Em, let me help you. Come to the grass, you’ll hurt your head on the sidewalk.” Trent moved to the yard where they played together until complete darkness, about forty-five minutes later. Em got the hang of the front roll, while Hunter worked on his back rolls and handstands. The whole time Trent spotted them both, making sure neither got hurt. He even executed a couple of sloppy front rolls himself to the excitement of the children.

“
Daddy, Rhonny and I cooked dinner. Hunter helped too. I’m hungry,” Em said, coming to stand by him while he hung on to Hunter’s feet as he performed another handstand.

“
Yeah, good point, Em. You two need to eat. It’s already seven-thirty. Dinner, bath, bed. Yay!” Rhonny said from the porch where she’d continued to read while they played.

“
No, boo!” Hunter called back, but the night had come on quick. The late May evening air grew crisp. He could see the goose bumps springing up on Em’s arms.

“
Come on, Rhonny’s right. Let’s go inside, you two. I have paperwork and you two have to go to bed. I need sleep. Sleep without arms hitting and legs kicking me. Any idea who it might have been, Hunt?” Trent asked, grabbing Em up in his arms and herding Hunter into the house.

“
Emalynn,” Hunter promptly replied which started a whole new round of arguing over who could have kicked him last night.

“
Step up here and wash your hands, then sit at the table,” Rhonny said, beginning to warm parts of the dinner. The small round oak dinner table sat four comfortably and the places were already set with plates, napkins and silverware.

“
Daddy, I made the salad and Hunter made the green beans. Rhonny made the chicken,” Em said, pulling her stepstool to the kitchen sink to wash her hands.

“
It looks delicious, honey,” Trent said, grabbing the milk from the refrigerator. He poured their drinks while Rhonny placed the food on the table. Hunter and Emalynn made fast work of washing up and then raced to the table.

Although technically Rhonny
’s time off, she stayed with them for dinner that night. The usual “how many bites of this do I have to eat” and “can I have more” of anything sweet on the table ensued. After dinner, everyone helped with kitchen cleanup and then came bath time. Em and Hunter still bathed together at night, although Hunter showed signs of independence, talking about needing to have his own bath. Teeth were brushed, hair combed and dried, pajamas on, and bedtime stories read. Rhonny stayed through the whole process, and it helped to have an extra pair of hands.

When Rhonny gave her time for free, she usually bailed about halfway through bath time, but not tonight. She stayed the entire way through until the end of story time, when both kids were asleep. Trent shut Hunter
’s door about the same time Rhonny pulled Em’s door to, and they quietly walked together down the hall toward the living room.

“
It gets them to bed earlier when you help. Thanks for sticking around tonight,” Trent said quietly.

“
It’s my pleasure… Plus I have something to talk to you about,” Rhonny said, stopping in the kitchen when Trent started toward his office to finish his paperwork.

“
What? And after the day I’ve had, you aren’t allowed to tell me you’re quitting.” Trent looked back over his shoulder, his weariness from the day finally catching up with him. Before he crashed completely, he needed to finish the bid he’d worked on this morning. He stopped at the expression on Rhonny’s face and turned completely toward her. She appeared nervous, jittery. He stepped closer to her, narrowing his eyes in concern.

“
No, I’m not quitting. I love you guys. But I do have someone I want you to meet,” Rhonny said, squaring her shoulders, resolve hit her brow. He could almost see her straightening her spine before she said anything more and that confused him that much more.

“
Okay. Is it like playing your dad or something like that? Do I need to bring the rifle in the house? Give him my most mean look?” Trent said, a grin tugged at the corner of his lips, loving the idea of practicing the tough dad routine before Em started dating.

“
No, silly, I have someone I want you to meet for you. It’s one of my professors. I found out today he’s gay. He’s super-hot. All the girls like him, and he’s totally single.” Rhonny gave a nod of her head at the end of her declaration as if that settled the matter.

“
Rhonny,” Trent hedged.

“
No, now listen. I’m completely serious. I know you don’t go out much, but you need to. Auntie Crazy’s going to start setting you up on blind dates. I’m not supposed to tell you, but she’s serious. She got so excited when she thought you were going out with someone this weekend, and I agree with her, Trent, you need to get out of the house more. You need to relax, and having a good time wouldn’t kill you. We’ll both babysit and work it out with each other to be here more,” Rhonny said.

“
Sweetheart, I appreciate the offer, and tell Sophia, I appreciate her, but I’ll ask when I need help in that area. Blind dates just sound torturous… No offense to your professor, but yeah… No…” Squinting his eyes, he gave a grimace thinking over the idea of meeting someone out in public he’d never seen before and being forced to spend the evening with him.
What a whipping!
“Yeah, really, no… Not interested, Rhonny.”

“
Look, let me snap his picture tomorrow in class. I’ll text it to you. Will you please not shoot it down without a look at him? He’s hot, Trent, and you two would be super-hot together. The girls would die when you two walked by. You know all my friends want to go out with you; they don’t care you’re gay. They want to be the one to
change
you,” Rhonny said it all while turning and walking out the kitchen toward her basement apartment. She sauntered away with a little swagger she did when she thought she was funny. She’d made those absurd remarks before, but they never failed to catch him off guard. He chuckled at her silly friends, who were all ten years younger than him. Mere babes in the woods compared to his “old man” status, especially counting the last four years.

****

After three hours of running totals, checking and double checking his numbers, Trent felt like the latest electrical proposal to hit his desk was finally done. The only problem, the basic, everyday bid shouldn’t have taken this long to work out. He knew this information like the back of his hand, yet hours passed while he got all the way through it.

The catch in his spine as he stretched out his back couldn
’t be a good sign. He labored for hours over this proposal, finding mistake after mistake in his numbers. The job would be big, but not the biggest he’d ever done and certainly not the hardest. The contractor also used him exclusively, so how hard should this have been?

Over the years, he
’d sat at this old desk in this old worn out leather chair for more hours than he could count, working on his business. For the first time in his adult life a sense of restless unease washed over him, making him tired. The fatigue ran deep in his bones, clouding his ability to think straight. With a shove of his palms against the edge of his desk, he rolled back about a foot and rubbed his hands over his face, before pushing them through his short hair. On a huff of his breath, he picked up his laptop and his numbers-filled scratch paper to finish this proposal in the comfort of his bed. He’d sat there long enough for one night.

His house was small, maybe fifteen hundred square feet, and he made his way through the garage, then the house, flipping off the lights and making sure all the doors were locked on his way back to his bedroom. Like every night, he looked in on the kids through the crack in their doors and both were sleeping soundly. His room sat right across the hall from theirs and he quietly pushed the door closed until only a crack remained, just like theirs. Over the years, he
’d trained himself to be a light sleeper, wanting to be able to hear if they needed him in the night.

Trent laid his laptop on the nightstand before straightening the bed covers where they remained a mess from kids the night before, and then he flipped the covers back, readying them for sleep. He tossed his remote control in the middle of the bed and undressed. After a quick shower, Trent dried himself quickly and pulled on his Sponge Bob pajama pants, the ones Em had given him for Christmas, and finally made his way back to his bed.