Chapter Thirty
When You Feel My Heat
Look Into My Eyes
It's Where My Demons Hide
It's Where My Demons Hide
Roughly about 8:15 AM in Boston
Detective Bonanno looked down at the evidence bag laying on his desk. In the bag was the cell phone they'd found at Eliot's safe house after CSI had cleared the bombing evidence. It was ringing; at least he thought it was ringing as it was playing music from an unfamiliar, but a country tune. He smiled at that little fact he was going to store away until needed; Eliot Spencer liked country music.
He'd tried to search the cell yesterday but found it password protected. He reached in the bag and pulled it out to see 'unknown caller' displayed on the ID screen and he noticed that he didn't need a password to answer it, so he did.
"Yeah?" He tried to sound like Eliot but knew he didn't pull it off very well. However, the voice on the other end didn't seem to notice the difference right away.
"I'm just calling to give you fair warning, Spencer. I've been sent to take care of you." Mikel's middle eastern accent was heavy in her statement.
"Excuse me?" Bonanno was taken by surprise at this and the fact the caller was obviously female. He wasn't sure if he was hearing a threat or a secret tryst being elicited.
But that had been his mistake; when Mikel Dayan heard the comeback, she knew instantly that this was not Eliot Spencer. "Who is this and where is Eliot?"
Bonanno took a deep breath and replied, "I could ask you the same."
"Policeman." Came the accented confirmation of the detective's identity. Mikel paused as she debated on just hanging up. She knew her phone was a burner and the number had been blocked, but she was intrigued, and she could use some information. Like why was Spencer's phone in the hands of the police. "Why should I answer you until you have answered me? I am not the one with Spencer's phone in my possession."
"No, but you are the one issuing what I believe to be a threat against Eliot Spencer, and being a cop means I'm more than just a little bit curious as to why you would do that. In my experience, hitmen or women do not usually tell their victims they're coming after them, at least not in such a very personal way." He dropped all pretense as he spoke to the woman.
He knew it would be a waste of his time to use police resources to try and track this call, but he knew someone who was better equipped to find out who this person was and where they were calling Eliot.
"Whether I am making a threat or not is of no real importance here; I was just giving Mr. Spencer a warning as we do have what you might call a slight...history." She smiled. She was becoming more intrigued by the minute. "Is he in trouble again with the law or has his team lost the man?" She surmised that maybe Eliot was in hiding if Evan Chapman had already tried to take him down before calling her in. She really should have gotten some basic information from the man before moving forward. He must have sent Eliot into the ether if he'd called in his favor. She knew Eliot had a way of making his enemies very angry.
"History?" Bonanno mused. "That sounds like an interesting description, as I know Eliot and he does seem to have what you call history with quite a few people of the female variety." He paused to see if he'd get a response. When he didn't he continued, "I am not at liberty to discuss my case with you as to the whereabouts of Eliot Spencer, but I would greatly appreciate any information you could give me as to where you think he might be."
Mikel smiled to herself. Eliot was either in trouble with the law or was hiding from Evan and possibly also in trouble with the law; either way he was in the wind. Maybe she would not be able to complete this favor too quickly and therefore Eliot may survive this after all. But if she didn't come through with the favor, she'd be in default of keeping her family honor and as such her brother's honor. She would either have to kill Eliot or... she thought about this for a moment. She would either have to kill Eliot or she would have to kill Evan Chapman.
And the thought of ending Evan Chapman held far more appeal to her. She continued to smile as she worked on the formulation of a plan. "Mr. Policeman, please allow me to inform you that I do not have any information on the whereabouts of Eliot Spencer nor his team, I do however have some information that may be valuable to you. But anything I tell you will be strictly between you and me and I will deny any knowledge of this conversation once we have ended this call. Do we understand each other?"
The detective smiled too as he took this in. This woman was not one of Eliot's conquests. No, this woman was much more. "The name is Detective Captain Patrick Bonanno and my dear, I think we understand each other completely. I will take whatever you give me and keep it completely confidential as long as it in no way threatens my safety or anyone else's and it leads to my finding Mr. Spencer."
"Then, Detective you should be searching for someone named Evan Chapman. The man is Eliot's brother and I am willing to bet he has already tried to eliminate Eliot, but thus far has been unsuccessful. Hence my appearance, if you know my meaning." This was going to be interesting indeed. "And if I know Eliot Spencer even a small bit, you can be sure Eliot is somewhere putting a plan into action to turn the tables on Mr. Chapman."
As the detective and Mikel continued their conversation, they were unaware that they were being overheard by Albert Wilson who sat at his computer smiling. He'd planted the phone in the detective's possession, a clone of Eliot's own, at the crime scene at Eliot's safe house. He had Eliot's actual phone in his own possession and had just been waiting for someone to try and contact the man he knew to be his grandson.
This was a new twist, he thought as he listened to the female specialist he'd done his research on long ago. Once she'd appeared in Eliot and his team's life a little over a year ago, he'd kept track of her and the team of criminals she'd been working with at the time. Albert had everything on Eliot except his current location.
He would have to research this Evan Chapman and the fact that he was Eliot's brother, because he had no idea his Mary and Jack had children prior to Eliot and Emma. No, this was definitely news to him.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Roughly about 8:30 AM Boston time
Nate sat at the dining table staring out the window at the early morning sun as it glinted off the windows of the building across the way. He was worried. He was worried as they hadn't heard from Quinn yet, and he was the only one to claim to know exactly where Eliot was right now. And he needed to believe that Eliot was in good hands, but he still had his doubts.
He hated that Quinn wasn't sharing this information with them, and he was itching to get his hands on the man. He needed to find Eliot and get him back safe and sound. His team needed Eliot. He needed Eliot.
His mind somehow went back to a time not long after they'd done that job securing the hospital when Eliot had taken to the young abuse victim, Randy. Eliot had mentioned this in his letter, and it was something the two had never really spoken too much about after that night. Eliot had held onto his reasons he'd been bothered by the abuse and Nate had always wondered if maybe Eliot had been abused too.
But he believed the man when he said he hadn't, he was just bothered by injustices to women, children and the elderly. It was his background; it was basically who Eliot was.
Nate watched his retrieval specialist as the man sat at the breakfast bar in the dining room of the hotel they were in now. He was sitting facing the window that looked out over the city, and he was alone. He was alone most of the time, Nate had begun to realize. Since they'd gotten back from the job in Nebraska and the fight Eliot had been forced into by Jed Rucker, Nate had noticed Eliot sneaking off more and more to be alone. He didn't know what the other man was doing or thinking about, but he'd respected his right to his privacy and had seen to it Eliot wasn't bothered during those times he sought solitude.
They'd just finished the job in Boston where they'd secured the hospital floor to take down their mark, Eddie Maranjian, and now they were in a small town near New York City to take down a scammer during a Comic Book Convention in the Big Apple. Nate smiled at the memory of Hardison's reaction to the convention as opposed to Eliot's.
Hardison was in geek heaven, but not Eliot. He was having a hard time with this job; security issues he could understand, and he would deal with those; even the sales and events he got, but Eliot just didn't get why there was even such a thing as cosplay. Costume Roleplaying, Hardison had explained was a big deal and a way for people to escape their day to day lives by living out a dream or fantasy. Eliot didn't get the dressing up as a super soldier to fight for freedom part, even if it wasn't real.
Probably because he had been a super soldier fighting for freedom once. Probably because he'd become jaded by the whole thing. Probably because he'd seen what happened to good people who didn't do anything. Nate sighed as he thought about the fact that they as a team still didn't know much about their hitter's past or what motivated him.
This past week Nate had cornered Eliot to try and talk about what had happened with the kid at the hospital; Randy. Nate had kept up on everything with that situation and he'd kept it quiet from the rest of the team, but he had to know why Eliot had taken it upon himself to protect an obviously abused child. Nate could understand the need to protect the child, hell he would have done it himself if he'd run into Randy first, but what he didn't get is how Eliot had known so deeply just how far the abuse went and how he'd handled the removal of Randy from the home.
Eliot could have beaten the crap out of the father and not one member of this team would have questioned him on it. But Nate had discovered that Eliot had used one of the US Marshals to take Randy from the home. Eliot has moved behind the local law and done the right thing by the boy; he'd gotten him out of a bad situation, and he'd kept up with what was happening to him. He knew Randy had been placed in a good foster home and was doing well.
As Nate watched the little girl dressed like Bell from Beauty and the Beast walk past him and make herself a bowl of cereal, he wondered if Eliot was going to be able to move past the last couple of jobs. He'd been put through some emotional situations during both and Nate knew Eliot didn't do emotional very well. At least not this kind of emotional.
Nate started to head into the dining room to approach Eliot when he saw the same little girl move to sit directly next to Eliot at the bar. There were a dozen empty tables easily more accessible for the child, but she chose to sit by Eliot. Nate smiled as he watched her struggle to get up on the seat and he knew Eliot was aware of her the instant she'd gotten close to his radar, but he never moved to help her. Nate stood back and watched the two.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Somewhere in Eliot's not too distant past
Eliot sat at the counter of the breakfast bar in the hotel he was currently staying at along with the rest of the team. He'd come down earlier than the others because he didn't sleep as much as they did, and he was beginning to feel a little fenced in since they were forced to share one room. Hardison had tried his best to find them a place to stay in the city, but the convention had everything booked for a good 15-mile radius from the convention center where this geek thing was going on.
Eliot snorted a little bit as he tried not to laugh at the weird stuff these people did during a Comic Con. He'd already seen two Darth Vaders, one Batman, and a whole slew of Avenger heroes leave the hotel to head into the city. The dressing up stuff was better than any costumes he'd seen on Halloween back in Oklahoma. He'd never admit it to Hardison, but he did find the cosplay stuff fun to watch. Some of the things people thought up was kind of brilliant.
He was so involved in his thoughts he'd almost missed the little girl dressed like Bell as she moved to sit next to him at the bar. He noticed several empty tables closer, but the girl wanted to sit with him.
She wasn't more than five or six he thought as he watched her carefully sit her bowl of cereal next to his empty breakfast plate then pull herself up to settle on the bar stool. She continued to ignore him as she gently laid a well-worn Raggedly Ann doll down next to her bowl and pick up a napkin to place just as carefully in her lap. She took great care in not spilling anything or bothering anyone as she helped herself.
She quietly looked up to see him watching her, but instead of returning his smile, she quickly looked back down at her lap and concentrated on making her napkin wrinkle free. He let the smile slip away as he watched her trying to be so careful with everything she touched.
He knew in that instant. He'd stake his life on the fact that this little girl was another child like Randy. No, not like Randy. Randy had been physically abused, but this little girl had received more than just physical abuse. She was so withdrawn and afraid to look him in the eye. She was practically obsessed with being so careful. It was as if she knew if she spilled anything or bothered anyone, she'd catch holy hell for it.
This little girl was mentally abused as well; and that made Eliot angry. More than just with what happened to Randy, this little girl had been through so much more, and Eliot was having a very hard time suddenly not going and finding this little girl's family and hurting whoever had hurt her.
"Hello there," he remarked holding his anger at bay in case the child was to pick up on it and assume it was directed at her.
There was a sadness to the little girl; a sadness that was showing, but that was also just under the surface. She was marked by what had been done to her and it almost broke his heart in two. She'd lived a lifetime in her short life, and she had lost her childhood. He could feel her pain as easily as if it were an actual physical wound.
She still did not look up at him, but instead reached for her doll and began to run her fingers thrown the yarn of her hair. The doll had seen better days, but it looked to be clean and had several small tears mended on her dress. Someone couldn't afford a new toy, so they'd mended the doll. Either that or it was a security blanket of sorts for the girl so that not even a new one could replace this one.
"You should eat, or your cereal will get soggy." He tried a different tactic.
He watched then as she slowly looked up to meet his eyes. He had to blink as he saw the pain there in the deep recesses of the crystal blue stare. The color was so like his own that for just a moment he thought he was looking in the mirror and seeing his own pain reflected at him. He saw not just the pain though; he saw the secrets hidden there. Pushed back so that no one would notice at first glance.
But Eliot could see the pain; the secrets. Because he knew the same kind of pain she felt to a degree. He may never have been physically abused, but he'd faced a lot of the same pain throughout his years. From the time he'd lost his mamma until this very day, he'd seen a lot of pain; too much pain. And he could see that same kind of pain was wearing this small child down. Her young soul was breaking down and if she didn't get help, well he knew that soon she'd be all but gone.
He could see the dark circles under her eyes and while her long hair was braided in a very pretty French plait, she had obviously slept on it. Stray hairs were coming loose, and she looked so tired. His heart did something it hadn't done in almost twenty years; it broke. He felt such intense pain at that one moment, that he almost cried out from the pressure it put on him.
He understood her pain; he'd lived with something similar for most of his life, but he was a grown man and she was just a small girl. It wasn't fair for her to have to endure the pain of a thousand different touches; tortured and hit more than he himself had probably endured. This child should not have to feel the physical pain of being abused or the mental anguish of being broken down into nothing.
He knew this child had endured more mental abuse than physical; he'd had the same feeling at the hands of his own father when he and his sister had been tossed aside in his father's grief at the loss of their mother. He knew his father hadn't meant to neglect him and Emma, but that didn't help stop the mental anguish they'd experienced. Eliot knew that the abuse he'd known was different than this little girl's though. She'd been told she was worthless and probably had even been told she wasn't wanted and that was the worst kind of abuse. At least is father had never said he was worthless; he'd just made him feel that way.
Eliot had seen his share of physical torture during his military days, as well as his days with Moreau, and he'd even faced mental torture. It was how you broke a man. First the physical, then the mental. Everything was designed to wear a man down to get whatever information you needed out of him. That was bad enough, but then the final stage was when they began telling you that you were worthless, no longer needed by whomever you were being forced to give up. When that happened, it was hard to find a way out when you had nothing to look forward to if you lived through the torture. It became a way of life for him; when no one else cared what happened to him, he had begun to think why he should care about himself.
He looked around the hotel again in search of anyone associated with the child. After finding no one who seemed to be watching out for her, he turned back to the girl. "Where's your mamma, sweetie?" He asked gently. When he saw the child flinch slightly, he muttered under his breath then he heaved a sigh as he tried again. "How about your daddy?"
The little girl looked back up then with tears in her eyes and said simply, "he died."
Eliot blinked at that reply. It hurt to see the girl commenting in such an adult way and the way she seemed to struggle to keep her tears at bay. Her struggle only made him long to find the cause of this girl's pain and eliminate it. She was aging right before his eyes and she was leaving her childhood behind. In that one instant all he saw was a small adult who'd seen too much of the bad side of life.
"Okay, tell you what? How about I see if I can scrounge up something better than soggy cornflakes?" He asked gently smiling to let her know he understood and wouldn't ask her any questions about what she was trying to hide.
She nodded slowly and he moved from the bar stool and headed for the buffet line. He filled two plates with a heaping mound of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, shredded hash browns, and some bagels with cream cheese. Then he picked up another plate and piled it with French toast, smothered in fresh butter and powdered sugar. He added some fresh strawberries and melon to the plate then carefully carried all three plates back to the little girl and set the plate with the French toast and fruit in front of her. He pushed the forgotten bowl of cereal out of the way and set the other two plates between him and her while he regained his seat on the stool.
"I'm still kind of hungry, so I hope you don't mind it if I share with you." He said picking up a clean fork and handing it to her before reclaiming his from his empty plate.
He quietly dug into his eggs while he secretly watched as the girl reached out and quietly snatched both pieces of bacon from his plate. He pretended not to notice as she shoved one whole piece in her mouth at once.
Soon he had her talking to him about her doll, not Raggedy Ann he learned, but Raggedy Angie; and the trip she was on with her mother. They were both attending the convention that he and his team were about to attend.
Eliot learned that the girl's mother was called Beth and she belonged to a fan club that was fairly large if he was to believe the little girl when she said there were at least a hundred of them attending the convention to see one of the special guests. Some guy who by her description was a cross between a Disney superstar and Rambo; he had been the co-star of some show he'd never heard of that had long since been canceled.
She said her mom called him her honey bunny, which she thought was funny since he wasn't made of honey and he wasn't a bunny at all. Eliot laughed with her as she laughed when explaining how nervous her mother was about meeting him.
Eliot also learned the man not only acted, but he seemed to be able to do all his own stunts, as well as sing and was an acclaimed chef. Eliot thought the girl was making the guy seem more popular than he probably truly was, but he made a mental note to check out the guy later when he got over there to the convention center. He was pretty sure the guy was nothing without a stuntman or his agent there making him look good.
He laughed as she explained some of the guy's antics on the show and he didn't believe anyone could act like they were a mercenary unless they'd really seen some action. War was real and there was no way to fake it if you'd never experienced it. But he listened to the child while she got more and more animated and he soon realized that she was just as big a fan as her mother, if not more.
He also learned the girl's name was Molly and she was six years old. He'd learned that she was with her mother, her Aunt Kathy and a group of fan groupies of this guy's; and Eliot learned that her and her mother had just moved to Connecticut from Oregon after her father died. At the mention of her father the girl would clam up every time, so he was careful to keep the conversation steered away from him.
He knew from that little bit of information that it was the girl's father who had most likely been the cause of her all her pain; children of abuse always seemed to try and protect the abuser, and Molly didn't want to say anything about her father, good or bad. He also learned her mother tried hard to not trigger any memories of her father based on Molly not knowing what really happened to her father. She said her mother told her he was in a car accident and that he was now living in Heaven with her grandparents. Eliot doubted the man was in Heaven, but if that's what her mother told her he wasn't going to argue about it. It seemed the mother was trying to protect her as much as she could.
He'd learned they'd only been in Connecticut for a short time - maybe a week or two, so the pain was probably still very fresh in her mind and would take a long time to heal. Molly also let it slip that her named used to be Sophia, but her Aunt Kathy had changed it because she said she looked more like a Molly.
That was interesting, he mused. Obviously the mom and this so called aunt had somehow gotten away from the husband; maybe he'd really died or maybe they were in hiding hence the name change, but either way Eliot believed that the mom was not the problem, or at least he hoped she wasn't. He could feel the way the girl talked about both parents when she did, that she didn't like talking too much about her father, but she only showed worry when she talked about her mother.
It really intrigued her that Molly talked more about her aunt than anyone else. This Aunt Kathy was like a god to her. He could tell that this child had placed this woman on a pedestal, and nothing could tear her down. Hopefully whether she was a real aunt or not, she'd be in this child's life for a while because this girl needed stability.
He smiled as Molly went back to talking about this actor guy again and how she was excited about getting her picture taken with him today. Soon, all too soon the little girl finally said she needed to get back upstairs before her mamma woke up and found her missing. She wasn't supposed to leave the room without someone with her, but she'd been so hungry, and she hadn't slept well on the hard mattress of the hotel bed.
Eliot offered to escort her back to the room, but she produced her key card and said she'd be fine. She was back to being the adult as she quietly slid from the bar stool and starting walking away. He stood up from his seat to begin gathering up the trash when he saw her suddenly stop and turn back around to face him. She ran back and threw her arms around his waist in a tight bear hug. He bent down to her level as she moved her arms to pull him close by hugging his neck.
"Thank you, Mr. Eliot. For breakfast and talking to me." She suddenly seemed shy as she pulled back and patted him gently on his cheek.
"It's just Eliot, sweetie. Or you can call me El if it's easier. But never mister, I'm not old enough to be a mister." He joked with her.
She smiled as blue eyes locked with blue eyes. "No, you're still a mister. Mamma said we should always respect people who are kind to us by calling them Mr. and Mrs. or Miss. And you were kind to me, Mr. Eliot. So that's who you will always be to me." She reached around and hugged him even tighter as Eliot hugged her back.
Eliot felt the tears gathering behind his eyes as he took in the fact that Nate was hiding in the corner of the restaurant behind a large section of the newspaper. He'd seen him sit down earlier and knew the man was trying to hide, but he'd seen him and knew he was being watched. He was glad Nate had kept to himself. Eliot didn't know if Molly would have opened up to him if Nate had joined him.
"Okay, sweetie, mister it is. But just between you and me, you can still respect people just by being their friend and smiling a lot more. Can you do that for me? Smile more?"
Molly thought about that. "Now I can." She said and then she was waving goodbye and running off towards the bank of elevators as Eliot watched her until she disappeared inside one.