GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT
Frank went to the nest on time. He was tempted to call in sick and stay home all day trying to reach Aila. Her calling his work cell bothered him. Something felt horridly out of kilter. Would she call him back? He decided that if she didn't call him, he would call her. Always first at work, he found the nest vacant as he hoped. He took the short flight of stairs two at a time until he was inside his office. There was no door to speak of, so he would have to use what privacy he had before the others arrived. The moment he started up his computer, he noticed he had several encrypted emails awaiting him. All were from his immediate supervisor. He also noticed that he had a fax awaiting him as well. Ignoring the emails, Frank reached for the fax. It was wrong, but right now, he couldn't concentrate on anything that didn't have to do with Aila. He was in no mood for work today. Perhaps he could skip out before the team arrived. What stopped him cold was a name that seemed to blare at him like an indignant driver's car horn. Sheriff Aila Blane. He read the fax thoroughly and then read it again for good measure. An anonymous tip had come in regarding a particularly evasive drug kingpin. He had been supplying the Midwest with enough methamphetamine to disable five countries. According to the specs he was perusing, the tipster had fingered Aila Blane as one of the kingpin's partners in crime. The tipster claims that Sheriff Blane has been piping funds out of her department's budget and funneling it to Thurman Herren. Blane has not been confronted with the information yet and won't be. She is a small player. We want Herren. The team will be needed to infiltrate. Frank set the fax aside. Aila? Embezzling money? She was a cop for God's sake. What the hell did all this mean? Perhaps she had called him to ask for his help. Nothing made sense.
Frank was very familiar with Thurman Herren. He was a big name in the drug underworld who dabbled in everything from heroin down to the lowest common denominator, meth. There were hundreds of people willing to steal to fund his deadly games. Two years ago, the team had all but caught Herren, but he somehow skipped out of town and hadn't been heard from since. Apparently, he had moved on to Kansas and thought he could be safe amongst small town folk. It was obvious that someone suspected Aila of being a cohort of his. It was hard for Frank to reconcile, especially knowing her as he did. However, he was neither pointing the finger nor dismissing the accusation. He would know more after talking to her. The team would infiltrate, but he would face Aila straight on. It was one assignment he should turn down due to personal conflict, but he couldn't. He had to know. He grabbed his phone and dialed the sheriff's department again.
Aila jumped straight out of her chair when the phone rang beside her. She was on the verge of calling Sybil for a meeting. Normally, she would let Mildeen or Beck answer it, but they were doing their Barney/Juanita thing. She grabbed the phone after three rings. "Sheriff's office."
Frank recognized her voice immediately. In three years, all her tones and inflections were still there. Should I call her Sheriff Blane? Aila? Ms. Blane? What? He cleared his throat before speaking. "Aila, it's Frank."
Beat, beat, beat…BANG BANG. It was her heart. Hi darling. Come to Kansas, meet your three-year-old son. Dear Jesus. What was she doing? Swallowing hard, she decided to play it cool. "Good morning, Agent Donovan. How are you?"
Agent Donovan? Her voice was smooth and calm, teasing almost. Three years hadn't changed that, either. "Agent Donovan? It's only been three years, Aila. I would think you could still call me Frank. I received your message early this morning and the curiosity is killing me. May I ask about the nature of your call?"
All business. I can almost see the lift of your eyebrow. Nothing ever changes, does it, Frank? "I think you just did, Frank," she answered smartly. "We must talk face to face, but I cannot come to you. I'm a little…occupied. Can you tear yourself away from your duties and your girl long enough to come to Kansas?"
My girl? Goddamn that blonde. "The only girl I see regularly is my daughter," he said. Oh, great. Mr. Obvious, here. Why not just ask her if she's available. How in the hell can I do my job around her? "As it turns out, I can swing a small side trip, but it might be a few days before I'm ready to go. And this is something you cannot discuss on the phone?"
No girl? Oh, you lying bastard. "I suppose I could if I wasn't surrounded by nosy deputies and other employees, Frank. Seriously, this is something that should only be shared between the two of us. I wouldn't impose like this if I didn't think it was necessary."
"Good. I wanted to see you again, especially when I discovered that you're a sheriff," he said lightly.
Although her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest, she found it in her to laugh. "You perv. You just have a thing for females in uniform."
"That I do," he admitted. Oh God, this so hard. Why are we both trying to be so brash and brave? I could cut the bullshit and tell her how I feel right now and get it over with. But then, he remembered the case. He had to maintain an even keel. "I'm glad you called."
"Yeah, me too." Aila was holding the receiver so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. We have a son, Frank. His name is Ethan. He looks just like me, except for his coloring, nose, and eyes. He acts just like you. The apple does not fall far from the tree. "There's someone here who is waiting to meet you."
A husband? A boyfriend? "Great," he said, disheartened. "I must go, Aila. My team will be here soon. I'll find you."
Without waiting for her to answer, he hung up. He couldn't take it anymore. Images of them being on different sides of the fence came vividly to his mind. He couldn't stand the thought of being her enemy. In a way, he was. But he refused to convict her before he knew the whole story. How much could he tell the team? No one knew much about his home life. They hadn't seen his daughter, his ex, or Aila. They came after Aila. He never spoke about her to anyone outside his sister. Logan prodded him a lot, but she was easier to ignore. Shrugging the case away for the time being, he grabbed the phone to call his daughter.
The moment Aila heard the distinct click of Frank's phone hundreds of miles away in Chicago, she dropped her own and then promptly buried her face in her hands. She had been so close to blurting out everything that she had held back three years ago. For a moment, she almost hated him. He wasn't stupid. He knew what made children and he knew how much they made it. He should know. She shouldn't have to tell him anything. Yet, it was stupid of her to think like this. Frank was intelligent, but he was no mind reader. She had never given him reason to believe she was pregnant. She couldn't put any of the blame on him. She shoved thoughts of him aside for a moment. She had to think of her job and believed a visit to Sybil at her shop would answer some questions. She had no idea that her ex-lover doubted her at this very moment.
* * *
Frank stood and barely listened as Monica went over the information she had managed to dig up regarding one Aila Blane. Her voice droned on and on: "One-time decorated beat officer, she made her way up the ranks of the CPD and eventually made detective. She worked closely with several federal agencies, including our own." Frank's hearing went in and out as she continued while Cody made one smart-ass comment after another. He had admitted to his boss that he had personal ties with their subject of scrutiny. Time and time again, he declared he could do it. However, would that include telling the team about his past with her? He wasn't ready to go into it. But once Aila grew wise [and she surely would], they would hear it from the source herself. He felt horribly caught between his loyalty to the job and his sacred privacy. Face it. You're biased. You are not…cannot be objective with this case. Back out while you still can. Back out? Had he ever backed out? Hell no. And now wasn't the time to do so.
"Boss?"
Frank's head whipped up at attention within nanoseconds. If the look on his face hadn't been so serious, they would have laughed. "Yes," he said shortly, acknowledging Alex. Ice blue eyes. Jesus.
No one said anything immediately. There was a look about him that had never been there before. It was one almost completely indescribable. Their boss seemed to be a billion light years away with no hope of returning. They hadn't seen him like this before.
"Boss, are we losing you," Cody said, wise-cracking for all he was worth.
"Excuse me," Frank said blankly. "I drifted," he admitted. He ran his hand over his mouth absently. How in the hell could he approach this? Did he need to approach it? It wasn't too late to back out of the assignment, but he didn't want to do that, either. He approached a nearby chair and seated himself tiredly. Even speaking about Aila innocently didn't sit well with him. Choosing his words carefully, he opened his mouth to speak. "I've worked closely with Ms. Blane before," he began, "while I was still with K & R. She is very good at what she does, both in and out of the field." He noticed that Cody wanted to say something, but Frank held up his hand, as if anticipating the young man's question. "I've not decided one way or another if these accusations are true. Knowing her as I did, it's difficult to believe she is anything but innocent, but right now, I'm making no judgments. I suggest you say goodbye to your families. We leave tomorrow."
Much later, Frank had just put his daughter to bed. Since he was leaving town for an undetermined amount of time, Logan relented readily when he asked to have Darien overnight. He lingered with her only a moment, placing one final kiss to her cool forehead before leaving the room. Any more than that, and she would spend a good portion of the night driving him up the wall. He loved his daughter dearly, but she had ways of wearing a man down. After leaving her bedroom and shutting the door behind him, the doorbell rang. He went to the door, his face slightly puckered with confusion. Who the hell would be bothering him this time of night? Dear God. I hope it isn't the blonde. It wasn't.
"Terra," Frank said. "What the hell are you doing here?"
She shoved her way past his body. "Nice to see you, too, big brother." She moved toward the couch and made herself at home. "I know it's close to bedtime. I promise not to stay long."
Frank shut the door, but stood close by with his hands on his hips. What sort of scheme did she have in mind this time? "Terra, shouldn't you be studying or causing terror in the hearts of small children?"
"You're so funny, Frank. Sit down. I want to talk to you for a while." She waited and watched patiently as Frank moved away from the door. He sat on the arm of a chair near the couch. "Good. Glad you listened for once in your old ass life. Did you call her?"
"When are you going to butt out of my love life and get one of your own," he asked a bit harsher than intended.
However, his words didn't make Terra blink twice. She was used to this. Frank was Frank. "You did! I knew you would. Logan called me a few hours ago and said that you wanted to keep Darien overnight because you were leaving town. Are you going after your lady love?"
He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. Frank could understand his sister playing matchmaker, but his ex-wife? During their marriage, she had been quite jealous. What the hell was wrong with this picture? He didn't know why he was directing his anger toward Terra. She had done nothing more than voice a simple question. She was his sister and she loved him. She knew how he had felt about Aila. How you felt? Don't you mean how you still feel? He chewed on his lip for a few moments. He could tell her nothing about the case, couldn't even hint at it. However, there were a few things he could say. "I called, but didn't speak to her directly and I probably won't. I'm going out of town because my team and I were assigned a new case. It's over, Terra. I realized that three years ago and I think it's time for you to realize it as well. If you don't mind, I'd like to go to bed. Darien and I have to be up by six."
"I mind, Des," she said with a smile. "Whatever you're going to do is your business. I hope you find each other again. I don't think you'll ever be truly happy again until you find each other." She stood and approached him. She gave him a noisy kiss on the cheek, the kind she gave him when they were children. "Have a safe trip, Des. And I hope you find her."
He sighed deeply as he watched her leave. Damn it. He hated having a sibling who read his mind so thoroughly. He closed the door behind her and turned toward his room. He had a lot of packing to do.
* * *
While it was still daylight, Aila had tried visiting Sybil. Her shop was usually open seven days a week, until at least nine or ten at night. However, it was closed. Bizarre. Sybil never closed her shop unless something dire happened. She was worried about her friend in more ways than one. Sybil was nearly like a sister to her. She was one of the few people who accepted her back with open arms when she came home. Although being unmarried and pregnant wasn't an unusual thing in this day and age, lots of folks talked about Aila behind her back. Sybil was one of a few who didn't. Aila was fairly tight-lipped when it came to giving out information about the baby's father. Sybil was one of the first people whom she told. And when she went into labor, it was Sybil who took her to the hospital. It was also Sybil who gave unending advice when Aila didn't know what to do. She had had a few children and knew her way around babies. Aila knew little. Hell, if it hadn't been for her friend, she might have fed Ethan's butt and diapered his head. She owed a lot to her friend. So now as she walked up to the shop and noticed it locked up tight, her worry grew. What if Sybil had some serious money troubles and thought that her only way out was to take money from the town? Surely she would know whom to turn to at such a time? Aila would give her the shirt off her back. She gave up after knocking several times and went back toward the office. Perhaps later, she would call and see if Sybil had gone home early.
Aila made her way home earlier than usual herself. There was a weird silence around the sheriff's office and city hall that was highly unsettling. It appeared that they were having a secret meeting of some sort. Sybil might be there. But why would the council have a meeting without her? She was part of the damn circus. For Pete's sake, they had just had a meeting. Shrugging it off, she went inside, grabbed her keys, and walked out to the Bronco. It was then that she noticed several council members in the back of the building with their heads together. It struck her even weirder than Sybil's shop being closed. She ignored it for the time being. It was time to go home to her empty house. She was tempted to pick up her son and take him home.
Of course, the moment she thought of her son, Frank invaded her mind as well. Hearing his voice for the first time in three years did something to her. It brought back everything, every little memory she had of him. She missed him, missed him more than she ever had before. What in the hell was she thinking? What would she tell him? How could she tell him? She certainly couldn't blurt it, could she? Go to bed, Frank. Get out of my head. Whenever you 'find me,' we have a lot of shit to work out. I only hope you don't wind up hating me.
* * *
Thurman Herren sat in the comfy living room of his current girlfriend. She was down on her hands and knees massaging his feet. The feet were highly erogenous zones and a lot of people simply overlooked them. He gazed down at the woman and noticed how seriously she took to the task. Perhaps when she finished, he would pay her back with a shot or two of his best stuff. Maybe if she were real good, he'd give her a month's supply. He put his hand onto the back of her head and grimaced at the stiff hairspray holding her style together. He didn't understand why she insisted on using that shit.
"So, honey," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "Do you think we're in the clear?"
"Hmm," she sighed. "I think we are. No one is suspicious of anything where we're concerned. But the sheriff is about to be unemployed for a while. Maybe if we're lucky, she'll get the full brunt of this."
"Sweetie, she'd better. If not, I know a nice foot lady who's gonna get a boot up her ass," he said.
She looked up at him for a moment. "Oh no, Thurman. I promise you. No one will ever know that you had anything to do with it. I'll turn myself in before I'll let anything happen to you," she said, smiling brightly. "Don't worry yourself. The sheriff is in the hot seat and in the hot seat she'll stay. I won't be surprised when they put her in cuffs and throw her in her own jail."
"They should, Sugar Buns. I've been in prison before and I don't like it. I'm running out of places to hide. Chicago sure as shit didn't cover me well. This hokey town has its purposes. Why don't you stop caressing my feet and focus your attention on something else?"
"You betcha, baby."
* * *
"How could you do this to me," Frank roared. "How could you hide something like this from me? You were carrying my son and you said nothing. ANSWER ME."
The last two words out of his mouth were roared at her. He was a wild animal set to murder her. "Please, let me explain…"
"Explain WHAT? Explain the fact that you were pregnant with my child and failed to tell me? What do you expect me to do? Forgive you?"
"Frank, please," she begged meekly.
"Please? Take your please and your bastard son away from my sight. I can stand to look at you no longer."
"But he's your son," she whispered.
"I have no son," he said coldly.
"You do…and he's beautiful."
"FUCK OFF!"
The roar awakened Aila out of a deep sleep. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest. She sat up and blinked owlishly about the room. It was almost as if she expected Frank to be in the room with her, breathing down her neck. There was nothing but air surrounding her. Air and the sound of her harsh sobs. Dear God. What the hell was she going to do?
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To be continued…