Chapter Thirty-Seven

DECEMBER 2007

Everything was still the same, I noticed, as I walked down the familiar hallways.

I was nervous, but at the same time I had an edge to my strides. I had things to do, and I had to do them. I had a plan.

I passed Vicki on the way through, but didn't even acknowledge her. Vicki's "Hey…Suze…" faded into hurt silence as I proceeded down the hall. I dodged my ex-boyfriend, Dominic, giving him similar treatment.

My eyes drifted to my door, as I passed. My name was no longer there, but they hadn't replaced me, even though it had been over a month since I'd quit.

I reached the end of the hall and knocked on the door, heaving a deep sigh. After a few moments, Nicola opened it. She frowned, before opening it fully, ushering me in. I sat down and she sat behind her desk. She typed a few words into her computer, before turning her attention to me fully. "So, what brings you here?"

"I need help."

There was no need to beat around the bush. I did.

She raised her eyebrow cynically. I could feel her attention slipping away by the second. "Help?" Nicola typed a few more words. "To be completely honest with you, Miss Simon, I don't think you deserve help."

I had been prepared for that, too.

I leant forward, plastering an overly polite smile on my face. "Now, you see, that's where you and I differ. I deserve help."

Her fingers continued typing on the keyboard. Finally, she minimised whatever she was doing, and looked at me in her chair, biting her pen instead. "We do differ. I can't give you help."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off, pushing her glasses up her nose a little. "This is due to the fact that, as of nearly five weeks ago, you ceased to be an employee of this task force. Your decision," she pointed the pen at me condescendingly, wiggling it on her fingertips, "not mine."

She trailed off, not needing to say anything else.

"It was all due to regard for personal safety, I assure you. The case is still going."

Nicola didn't respond, so I took that as permission to let it rip.

"Okay, this is my situation in a nut-shell. I took the wrong case, I pissed off the wrong guy, and he's turned out to be a sadistic serial killer. He's already killed my mother, and he's still stalking me." Nicola tried to interrupt, but I cut her off. "And all due respect to your task-freaking-force, but he's escaped from the police. I'm in trouble."

Her mouth twisted into something of a grimace. She sat there, looking at me, thinking hard. Then, without a word, she picked up the phone, pressed a number, and spoke in a low undertone to someone.

"I'll wait until Derek gets here," she said simply, hanging up.

I guess there are some things in this world she and her French-twisted hair can't handle. I stared her down.

A few minutes later there was a knock, and Derek entered. I smiled wanly at him, and was greeted with a confused look.

"Miss Simon. You've come to visit us."

"She wants help, Derek." Nicola's voice dripped of underlying meaning.

I repeated my predicament to him; he ended up sitting on the desk near me. His face was twisted into sympathy.

"Yes, I did hear about your mother. My condolence-"

"I don't want your freaking condolences. I need help. This guy is going down." I was standing by the end of my sentence, looking him solidly in the eye. If they were trying to intimidate me, it wouldn't work. I'd been through too much already.

He nodded, looking at his hands, and then finally brought his gaze up to me. It was still sympathetic, but there was an edge to them. "Yes, I can understand your distress. But, unfortunately, we cannot do anything to help you. Our very survival as an organisation is based heavily on our secrecy. Helping you would put us at risk of exposure, and especially considering you are no longer an employ-"

I almost snapped. I didn't want to hear that, right now. "You're similar to a black ops organisation, right?"

Nicola nodded. "Yes, as we've just informed you."

I looked at them like they were missing something. "Which means you're above the police, yes?"

They nodded.

"And your authority is equal, if not more, to the FBI?"

They nodded again.

"Then I don't see a problem. You can hide your involvement. Don't bullshit to me about exposure."

Derek stood up and looked down at me with finality. "We cannot help you, Miss Simon. As much as it pains me to say, you are just going to have to hope the police can do their job." He nodded to Nicola, and went to leave.

Months ago, I would have accepted his decision, but not now. If he thought I was going to take what he'd said as an ending to the conversation, he was incredibly wrong. I darted around him, and barred the door, crossing my arms.

I was on autopilot once more. That was the only way I was able to go through with this.

"I don't think so. I'll give my respect where it's due, of course, but the thing is, you can help me, and you will."

Derek looked over his shoulder at Nicola, whose eyebrows were raised in shock.

"Is that a threat, Miss Simon?" Derek ventured carefully.

I smiled at him without feeling. "Yes. I believe what I just said constituted as a threat. Now, sit."

"No."

"Sit," I pressed. "You are going to want to sit."

Something in my voice made him comply. I stood in front of them. "I've been a part of this organisation for long enough to know how it works, who is involved, and what goes on around here."

They both watched me, unsure.

"You worry about exposure through involvement? I can guarantee your exposure if you don't help by merely calling the nearest newspaper. I have contacts in the journalism department," I bluffed. Cee Cee was long gone by now.

Nicola threw her pen down on the desk. "You wouldn't. No one would believe you."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "People believe in aliens, UFOs, Area 51. We live in a world full of conspiracy theorists." I leant close to her, lowering my voice. She pulled back a little. "They'll believe it."

Derek was looking incredibly pissed off. With reason, I guess. "Then we can just sue you for defamation."

"I'm not defaming anyone if it's true. You know that."

He set his jaw. "Do you want everyone to lose their jobs? Stop doing what we do? Without us, some cases remain cold and unsolved. You want to ruin that?"

I was too far gone to care. "Yes, if that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I took their silence as a done deal. "Great. So I'll need protection in the form of armed agents. You can cover it up anyway you want. I don't care. As long as we get Michael, and put him in a cell to rot."

There was a long silence. Nicola was gnawing the end of her pen, looking at Derek worriedly. Finally, he stood up and offered his hand reluctantly, as if he didn't even want to touch my skin. "Fine. Consider it a deal."

I smirked in achievement.

There is a reason the word 'black' is in blackmail. There is nothing light about it. In truth, it is an extremely dirty tactic of getting what you want. Some would go as far to say its use occurs on the brink of desperation.

I was past desperate, actually.

I shook it, and he tightened his grip around my hand, pulling me close. I stumbled.

Derek hissed angrily in my ear. "But that is the last thing we are ever doing for you. After this, I don't want to hear from you, ever again."

I pulled my hand out of his, flexing it, and smiled. "Deal."

The microwave beeped, and I took the popcorn bag out, inhaling. It smelt delicious. The bag shuddered as a few more kernels popped. I shook it out, opening it gingerly as I looked outside the kitchen window.

The view was very different to Paul's. My stomach heaved; my heart twinged in pain.

I hadn't seen him since I'd told him to leave. I still couldn't believe I'd done it, and done it so well. He'd bought it this time.

He'd thought I'd meant every word.

Itchiness was spreading behind my eyes, but I shook my head to stop it. I couldn't break down now. If I did, then I wouldn't stop. I still had things to do. I had to make myself, and everyone else, safe. There would be plenty of time to cry later…if it worked.

But still, the look on his face. I'd gone too far this time; his eyes were like ice, like they used to be before we started dating. I could no longer read them, not that I really could before. I'd done the right thing, I told myself. I'd used the right method; I'd said the right thing. He was too self-assured to believe that I was seeing someone else. I had to go a little deeper than that.

I shovelled a handful of popcorn into my mouth, not even registering the taste. All I could feel was the loneliness creeping in, the turning of my stomach as I thought about Paul…

I set down the popcorn bag and began wondering around aimlessly, without a purpose. I stopped and looked at the paintings on the wall, rearranged the flowers…my mind was on other things.

Then, I suppressed a chill that I'd become all-too familiar with. I knew it before I saw it.

A dark figure slunk around the doorframe to my right, leaning up against it casually. I swallowed, turning to look at Michael. He was still wearing that same leather jacket, the same self-assured posture.

I didn't want to know how he'd managed to find my old place. How he'd gotten in. I had to play it cool, even though the very sight of him made my heart surge with the purest kind of hatred. Where you didn't believe death was enough punishment.

I hated him. I hadn't even understood what the word really meant, until now.

Despite my racing heart, I set down the vase I'd been picking at, and regarded him calmly.

"Michael."

"Suze," he replied in greeting. "Nice to see you again. Sans knife, I'm hoping?"

I smiled smugly. "I may have a frying pan tucked inside my bra."

He smiled without humour. It was a dangerous smile. He shrugged off the wall, and started walking towards me.

Pure fear kept me rooted to the spot, but I kept smiling politely, holding my breath.

"I have a proposition for you, Suze Simon."

"And normally I'd love to hear it. Honestly. But I'm not interested in any propositions at this present time," I replied, turning and walking back towards the kitchen. Albeit, not the smartest move in the world, but I didn't want to stand there until he was within radius to cause damage.

I could hear him following, laughter on his breath. "Well, you don't have much of a choice."

My eyes widened, but I kept walking, my back still turned to him. "Threat?"

The irony in this conversation was not lost on me.

"You could say that."

I turned on my heel, and stood rooted to the spot. "You can't do that," I told him, more confidently than I felt. Hate laced my words; I let my eyes tell him how much I despised him.

He smirked, his eyes glinting. "Well, if you don't want certain people to join your mother, I suggest you listen."

The fire inside of me flashed. I wished I could cut the smile out of his face, if only so he could share some of my pain. He was the worst kind of person…

And he was enjoying this.

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

He shrugged. "Look at it this way: come with me, and they don't have to be hurt." I didn't answer, so he continued. "Cee Cee, Adam, Vicki? Andy? Your stepbrothers…Jake and Brad and David, yes? And of course, the fiancée, too. They all have heads to lose."

"You speak like you know what you're talking about. Cee Cee and Adam are gone. Paul…he had his use. But he means nothing to me," the stab of pain that went through me proved otherwise. "None of them do. The others aren't my real family. What makes you think that threatening to kill them will be good enough incentive for me to come with you?"

"Because you're lying."

"I'm not."

He didn't miss the way I set my jaw. "You are. I did notice that your friends have jumped ship. But they can be found. And as for Paul…" his voice faded, replaced with a wicked smirk. My stomach vacated my body, I'm sure. "Well, he always pissed me off, anyway. Guys like Paul…the world needs less of them, in my opinion."

Despite my fear and the rising bile in my throat, I snorted. "The world needs fewer guys like you, psychotic as you are."

His eyes felt like they were piercing my skin. "So you're declining the offer, then?"

I couldn't answer. There was no doubt that Michael would do it. He would find every single one of them, and kill them. He would relish it. And then he'd return to take care of me.

I couldn't see any other option. I'd have to find some way…

Some way, how? It's not like I'd be able to sumo-wrestle him, or anything.

Michael was grinning. I swallowed, and jutted my chin out. I'd just have to play along. "No, I'm taking it. However…I have some conditions."

He leant forward, his face mere inches from mine. My breath caught in my lungs. "Suze…you're in no position to make demands."

"Oh, I am. If I go with you, I'll quietly. But you will not hurt anyone afterwards. It's not like you have a motive after you're finished with me anyway, right?"

He nodded, and then hesitated. Disbelief coloured his tone. "You're willing to walk out your front door with me?" I nodded. "Right now?"

"What, is right now not convenient for you?"

Michael narrowed his eyes at me, looking around quickly. I worked to keep my face neutral, even when his gaze returned to me, sending chills down my spine. Then, without warning, he turned and bolted. Without thinking, I pursued him, but he'd disappeared out the back door.

Shit. I felt like smacking my head into the wall when my phone rang. Kneading my forehead with my palm, I looked at the caller ID. It was Nicola, probably calling from outside.

"We didn't have enough time to secure the house. We missed him, Suze."