Generation

by Ameraka

Just recovering from the events of A New Life, Connie and Jason are invited to an event that they think will be a new start. But soon they meet an old friend and are enticed into a world of intrigue and mystery while Whit is on a secret mission of his own. What will these events mean for the future of the Whittaker family? Warnings: violence, rape mention-human trafficking

43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43 [Day 12/August 20]

"What do you mean he's gone?" Jason's heart thumped hard; dread filled him. He braced for the possibility Markov could be dead.

"He's missing," said Amber. "When his wife got up in the night, she couldn't find him anywhere in the house. She figured he was on a mission, but he usually lets her know if he is. After a few hours, she texted him, because he'll usually answer texts if he doesn't have time to call. But the calls went directly to voicemail, as if the phone wasn't turned on."

"That's…strange."

"Yes, it's not like him at all. He always makes sure to keep the lines of communication open. I was wondering if you'd seen or heard from him."

"Not since last night."

"What did he say? Did he seem…in distress?"

"Well…yes."

"That's not like him either. What happened?"

Under the circumstances, he didn't see a reason not to tell. After all, Markov trusted Amber enough to recommend her as a mentor. "It was…" It was one thing to make a decision, another thing to dredge up the words for the unspeakable. "You know about his protégé, Elliot?"

"I never met him, but I heard about him. He was always close to Markov's orbit. I haven't been that close until recently. Until after Elliot's disappearance." Her voice was troubled, as if guessing there could be a connection between the two vanishings.

"Yavesh sent a video several days ago. They…showed Elliot—beaten up. Told him to stop investigating."

"Ohhh… I had no idea. They must've been keeping this under wraps… No wonder he disappeared so thoroughly."

"That's not the worst of it. Yesterday they sent another video. This time… it wasn't just the aftermath. They—showed it in excruciating detail."

"They showed them—torturing him?"

"Yes." Jason wasn't sure if he needed to tell the rest.

"No wonder Markov was upset. Could this have to do with why he's gone?"

"I—don't know."

"Hey—I'm getting an incoming call. I'll let you know."

"Thanks."

Amber hung up.

Jason flopped into the chair in front of the fireplace, his phone in one hand. His elbow leaning on the chair arm, he slid his hand into his damp hair.

His side ached, and he supposed he should go back in the other room and get his pills before it got worse. But he couldn't move. He felt worn out and the day hadn't even started yet. Well…for him, it had started at 4 a.m.

The phone rang again.

"Amber?"

"We've—got something," she said, a strange tone of apprehension in her voice.

"What is it?"

"Karl Wolff is missing."

"What?"

"We tracked Markov's movements. A traffic camera caught him on the way to the hospital. The hospital said he'd been there and authorized a prisoner transfer. They weren't happy about it but he's the director of the security service and so the prisoner is his jurisdiction."

"So Markov took him? Where?"

"We're still trying to figure that out. He didn't have anyone else with him. We're taking a look at the security cameras. But so far, no clues as to where he's gone. Or why he would go AWOL like this. No matter how much pressure he's been under, he's never gone rogue. He's usually so by the book. It's like he's—snapped." She sounded particularly disturbed at this prospect. "Is there something you're not telling me? That—maybe they threatened to kill Elliot, so Markov felt like he had to save him? Even then—to risk the operation like this, for just one person…it's not like him."

"He does care for Elliot—I think more than what he lets on. So he can't see this objectively."

"I never thought I'd see the day Markov can't be objective… but then, I'm still pretty much a newbie. And…people don't always act how you expect…it's just, Markov has been a rock to me, since I started—this stable person who kept the agency running smoothly, under his express will. It's like he infuses his spirit into it from the top. Without him…we'll probably devolve into chaos." She laughed nervously. "I'm probably exaggerating. But Markov off the grid like this—it's like we've stepped into an alternate universe. If the video had something particularly urgent or disturbing on it…. Maybe I could understand more if I saw it. Get more insight into how Markov is thinking. That's key to a profiler's job… I just— never thought I'd be profiling my boss." She gave a rueful half-laugh. "The problem is, we haven't been able to find the video yet. His PC is—like a fortress. And he apparently has his phone, though it's not turned on."

"I can send it."

"That would be great. I mean—it's probably awful but—if it helps me do my job—"

"I've got to warn you… it's…" He didn't want to spell out Elliot's shame, but she'd see it anyway. Besides… the real shame lay with the perpetrators. It was just—something no one should see. "I can give you the timestamps when it happens. They…. The torture is quite brutal."

"I don't like seeing such things, but I've….built sort of a method for being objective, compartmentalizing."

"It's…not just that. It's—worse."

"What do you mean? A worse kind of torture...?" A pause. "Oh. I see." Her voice grew weighed down with realization. "I… that is something I probably never could steel myself to… would never want to. I may have to for my job, though. If it has the potential of giving clues… Right now, I'm just gathering clues to Markov's mindset so… I may not need to watch all of it. Just knowing about it is…" She sighed. "I'm beginning to see why Markov would go off the rails. They…threatened more of it?"

"Yeah."

"After we find my boss, I'll take a closer look at the video. See if I can find any clues. Though…perhaps that's what Markov's goal is… I don't doubt it. Use…unsanctioned methods. That's why he didn't bring Wolff back here. He's going to torture him…a prisoner with a serious gunshot wound… I'm not shedding any tears for Wolff but—if this is truly Markov's plan…. A minute ago I would've said Markov really had gone insane but… in a way, I can understand it. If someone I loved was in the same situation… I might go off the rails too. Especially if I thought it might happen again. The problem is, we don't even know if Karl Wolff is part of Yavesh. This might be a dead end. Markov might be ruining his career for nothing."

"You think…he can't come back from this?"

"We'll have to see how this plays out. He might realize what he's doing and listen to the voice of reason… but somehow, I doubt it."

He couldn't help but think what might happen if Connie was kidnapped. The lengths he might go to. How much of his own morality he might forego if it meant rescuing her from someone who would— He cut off that thought. He didn't want any inkling of that kind of image near his mind.

"I'll send you the video," he said.

"Thanks. I'll keep in touch."

"You'll let me know if there's any way I can help?"

"I will. Hopefully…well. I need to get going."

After she hung up, Jason sent the video, though reluctance dragged at him. He didn't want Amber to see Elliot's torture… but she would help. And he sent her the timestamps of the before/after the worst so she could choose not to watch it. Perhaps she'd just get a general idea. On the other hand, watching all that had happened would probably the best way to get into Markov's mindset. He'd be outraged no matter what, but seeing it would probably make him even more desperate to get to his former agent. No matter what the cost.

Jason was at that point without seeing the whole thing, just knowing what it contained, the agony Elliot had gone through. Except there were some limits he wouldn't, couldn't, cross.

Connie stirred. Light filtered through her eyelids. She reached for Jason—but he wasn't there. Her eyes shot open. Scanned the room.

The room was empty. Panic seized her. She scrambled to her feet, a little unsteadily because her mind was still half in dreams.

He's probably just in the other room, she told herself.

But after what had happened yesterday— his sunstroke or whatever it was— it wasn't exactly paranoid to worry about him. And he'd been shot. Perhaps he'd gone for a walk and collapsed somewhere…

She tried to calm her heart but it only beat faster as she pulled on her clothes. She stumbled out into the hallway and dashed toward the office room.

Her heart settled when she saw him sitting at the computer.

"Jason, are you okay?" she said, his eyes lighting up as he looked at her.

"I'm fine. Let's get some breakfast. I…should probably take my pills first."

"I'll get them!" She dashed back to the bed room and snatched up his pills. Then they headed down the hallway to the breakfast room.

While they ate omelets and fruit with cheese, Jason told her that Markov was missing and that he'd probably taken Karl Wolff somewhere to get information out of him. "It's not even proven he's part of Yavesh," said Jason, "But it's not like Markov is thinking clearly. From what Leon told us, Karl seems like a freelancer—he picks up kids to take to others, and he keeps some and…conditions them for the high-end auctions. Which could be Yavesh-affiliated. But even in the criminal world, they cover their tracks. The only direct links we have are Ali and the videos of Elliot." A shadow crossed his eyes. Connie's heart flipped. She'd only glimpsed part of the video—and she wished she could scrub it from her memory. She wished she didn't have to watch it, but if it meant finding a clue… and sparing Jason the anguish of seeing it… she wasn't going beyond a certain point, that was for sure; she'd seen enough of what happened beyond it.

"Where could Markov have taken him?" she said.

"I don't know. Maybe somewhere remote… where he knows cameras won't pick him up."

They walked out to the gazebo. The sun sparkled on the morning dew, splashing brilliant rainbows everywhere. It was already warm and humidity made her shirt stick to her skin.

She leaned against the gazebo railing; he sat on top of it, looking down at her. He did look much better than yesterday. Maybe their love had healed him after all.

Her mind flew back to yesterday—to the beauty of him, lying there on the moss beneath her… his eyes stunning shards of blue, reflecting the sky… She savored the echoes of the feeling stirring deep inside her and laid her hand on his. He smiled, a quiver racing through him. Both reminiscence and longing harmonized in his eyes.

"What you did worked wonders, I think." He kissed her temple. "If you want, later today…after the investigation…we can go back…."

She rubbed his back. "That sounds wonderful. As long as it doesn't hurt you."

"You could never hurt me. I want you… always. More than ever. Even more each time."

She giggled. "Me too." She swept hair back from his forehead. "I'm so glad I'm… really past that. Afraid of being with you. I can hardly even remember what that was like. It's like… I was a different person."

"Grief will do that to you." Sorrow flashed across his eyes, reminding her of how he must have suffered, too. She'd never leave him alone again… but she hoped he'd never experience any more pain, either. They'd had more than their fair share.

She kissed his jaw and he turned so she could kiss his lips. A slow, soft kiss. Air interrupting them, a smile curving their lips.

Grief hadn't changed him. Maybe he hadn't felt it quite as deeply as she had… but he had mourned their child. She didn't even know how much… she hadn't been there for him through it. He'd borne all of it on his own. While she cut him off… acted erratically… made him worry…

She couldn't totally get rid of the guilt, but she knew he didn't blame her, and being back together had mostly dulled it. But still, she marveled at him…

"You're amazing," she said, rubbing his chest, feeling the solid sculpted muscles beneath the thin lavender shirt.

"I do try," he said, his eyes twinkling.

His phone rang. He snatched it out of his pocket. "Hello," he said. His eyebrows shot up. "Oh.….Well that's—yes. Is there anything I can do?" His eyes grew solemn as the voice continued. After a few minutes, he hung up.

"Well… they found him," he said.

"Markov?"

He nodded. "They found him on a forestry access road in the north by some lake. A trucker picked him up… he wasn't in good shape."

"What happened?"

"He was shot."

Shock flashed through her.

"Markov took Karl to interrogate him. You know how… incapacitated Karl was. His knee was basically shattered."

"You did that."

He nodded, his lips tilting ruefully. "I'm glad I didn't kill him…but I was glad I put him out of commission. I don't blame Markov for thinking Karl wouldn't pose a threat. Somehow, Karl got ahold of the gun, shot him, and ran off. Or rather, hobbled off, because it's not like he's a superhuman. But pretty close if he can stand on that leg."

"Where's Markov now?"

"He's in the hospital. He's been in critical condition, but he's stable now. He was shot in the chest. Seems it hit some rib or something. Nothing too vital. He wants to talk to me, so… I'm going over there."

"Should I come with?"

"If you want."

"I want to be with you."

"Markov hasn't been up to telling anyone much, but now maybe he'll be able to."

They headed over to the hospital. When they got there, Markov was lying in bed, his eyes closed, the heart monitor beeping, the IV in the vein on the inside of his elbow, its plastic casing translucent in the low light. The curtains were drawn but a slash of light from the corner of the window splashed across his face. His chest was bandaged and bruises faded into purple veins on their edges. There were also some bruises and scratches on his face. It was shocking to see him so vulnerable.

Jason crept over to the window and sat down in one of the chairs. Connie sat down beside him. "Now what?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "We wait."

A few moments later, Amber strode into the room. "Hey."

"Hi," they chorused.

"He was just awake a few minutes ago… But I suppose we better let him sleep. Maybe you should come back later."

"I've got time," said Jason.

"We really do need his statement. It could hold clues as to where Karl was going. What with the injury and the meds… Markov wasn't especially coherent. But he was adamant about seeing you."

"I wonder why. We haven't exactly seen eye to eye a lot of the time."

"Could be…about Elliot." A shadow flickered across her eyes. She sat down in the remaining chair, beside Connie. Leaned her arms on her legs. "I did…watch the video." She grimaced. She leaned her forehead in one hand, rubbed her dark amber curls absently. "I… wanted insight into Kris's mindset." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have watched it. Maybe later… but I didn't have time to steel myself…. The savagery of it… Well. I don't know if I could be more motivated, but the upside of watching it is… it does make me desperate to find him. Maybe I should be more objective, but I don't know if I should be objective about this. As long as I don't…go too far." She looked at Markov, pity, accusation and empathy in her eyes. "The other upside is that… besides hopefully finding clues—I see what Elliot's up against. And how he's still resisting in the face of that—I can't help but admire him. I see what Markov saw in him. I just hope he…doesn't end up becoming a martyr."

"So…the acting director might stop investigating?"

"She won't compromise the Service for one man. She was very clear on that. She'll hang him out to dry if it would take too much manpower to get him back. If he had intel, they've probably squeezed it out of him by now. That's what she said this morning at our briefing. If there's any value that outweighs the risk, she'll consider it. But he's not…the priority." Sorrow weighed down her voice.

"The problem is, investigating will put him in danger too."

"We're not totally clear if it's just Markov they want to back off, or all of us. It probably is…but there are ways we can find loopholes…"

"One of them is that I investigate."

"I just hope that they don't find out about that too. I wouldn't put anything past them."

"I'll be careful."

"You'd better be," said a soft voice. Markov. He stirred a little, as if to get in a slightly more comfortable position, squinting against the light.

"Hey, I'll get it," said Amber, jumping up to slide the curtain over the gap.

"No, no," said Markov, waving his hand weakly. "I want light. Open it up."

She pulled it back to its previous position.

"No, all the way."

She pulled the curtain totally away from the window, and he shifted so his eyes weren't in the direct path of the sun, though he winced as he moved.

"So they have some clown in charge?" he said.

Amber looked a little taken aback. "It's Andronova."

"She's good. She'll…" His voice trailed off, his brow furrowing, his face openly anguished.

"I'll…do what I can. Off the books."

He looked startled for a moment, as if rebelling against going outside the law. Then he looked grateful. "Thank you." He looked at Jason. "That's why I asked you here. I want you to keep up the investigation. Find him."

Jason leaned forward. "I came to that conclusion myself. I was going to call you about it, but… you'd disappeared."

Markov set his jaw, pain and anger flitting across his eyes. "I had him. I had him on the ground, writhing…. He was telling me things. Next thing I knew, he had my gun. I—don't know how he did it. It was like a magician's sleight of hand. Then he—" The reminiscence of agony took over his expression and he lay back on the pillow.

"What did he say?" said Amber, opening a recording app on her phone and pressing the red button.

"I… he said…." He struggled. "I'm having trouble remembering."

"That's okay, sir. Take your time."

His eyes flitted to the recorder and narrowed. Then he pursed his lips briefly, in what seemed like a replacement for a shrug. "I suppose you saw the first part go down. I took him up north. The beautiful lake I used to go fishing in. Ruining it… but a small price to pay. I knew he was Yavesh."

"How did you know, sir?"

"Because of how he acted. Smug. Tight-lipped."

"That's…hardly evidence."

His eyes flashed. "Intuition's the weapon of the spy. I know you can't take that to court. But you've got to follow it, all the same. Even if it's not true… there's enough of a chance. I had to take it. El… he can't wait much longer. It's already…. I took that man, Wolff's probably not even his real name. I had to get rough—didn't have time to waste. Taking it up to eleven." He glanced at Jason. "I know you don't like torture. But sometimes…" He bit his lip. "What would you do to protect your loved ones?"

Jason nodded, understanding in his eyes.

"He was spilling all kinds of things. Well… maybe not that relevant. But I was getting somewhere. He told me about his stash of kids in Zelise. The police look the other way there. I always thought we were too soft on crime in Zelise… He picks up kids all over the place—Rakima, Zelise, the villages, the countryside, even Valhad. Conditions them. Then he takes them to the Valhad auctions. He's got a batch of exotics, he said, that he's been prepping for months now… potential for the highest payoff yet." Disgust crossed his face. "He's proud of it—unrepentant. Wants to get back to them so he doesn't lose out on his…investment. He told me he pays someone a fraction of his earnings in exchange for 'logistics support', whatever that is. But it sounds like Yavesh—what we've learned about it. He was…going to tell me something else… I leaned in too close… He smashed his head into mine, grabbed my gun—shot me. When I woke up, he was gone and blood was pouring out of me. Had enough presence of mind to bind up the wound or I might've been found as a skeleton eventually. It's a remote place. Luckily a trucker was going by… those roads are deserted… that's why I go there." A wisp of wistfulness crossed his face.

"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" asked Amber.

His eyes sparked. "Probably back to his slaves. He doesn't want to lose them… he might want to lie low but… probably thinks he can get away with it in Zelise. There are a lot of places for criminals to hide…. I'm not sure, memory's spotty, but seems like he mentioned keeping them at the edge of town."

"Leon kept his kids toward the center," said Jason.

"Yes, it's a different pattern. He could be lying about all of it…"

"At least some is—was—corroborated by Leon. He said Karl preps kids for auctions, just like how you described."

"Thing is…how are we going to get to him." He stirred, tried to sit up. Then he gasped and lay back, breathing hard. "I need to get out—don't have time for this—"

Amber stood up. "You need to heal, sir. You won't do anyone any good if you injure yourself."

"I'm fine. Just a—"

"Cracked rib. Lost a lot of blood. It was tricky getting the bullet out."

"At least it didn't hit the left side…" He pursed his lips. "Well… maybe I'll have to wait a couple days. Then I'll be well enough to join you. Get a head start, hm?"

"Hopefully we'll find him before that."

"Of course. But…you'll look for him?"

"I will. Maybe finding Karl will give us more clues."

Markov smiled. "And I can finish what I started." He closed his eyes. A moment later his breaths steadied into the rhythm of sleep.

"Well…" said Amber. She shut off her phone screen. "Not much to go on, but I suppose we should start with Zelise."

"Do you mind if I tag along?"

"No, I don't mind. You're on our task force, after all."

"Hopefully the trail doesn't run cold."

She nodded. "Those kids need us. We have to get to them before Karl does. At the very least, before he takes them away."

A shiver ran through Connie. She hoped they could rescue more kids—and she wanted to be a part of it. At the same time, she didn't know what she could do. She could stay in the background and help the kids when they were rescued… but how helpful would she be in an investigation? She didn't want to get Jason hurt or get in the way of rescuing kids. At the same time, she longed to do as much as she could. And to be with Jason as much as possible.

"Should I stay home?" she asked.

"Well…" said Jason. "It could get dangerous. But… I'm not going to be able to do anything too strenuous with my injury. It'll probably be in the range that's safe. If anything seems to get into dangerous territory… I'll send you back. Or protect you with my life if it comes to that."

"Jason…"

"You did come to Zelise before- stayed with the police."

"I wouldn't trust the Zelise police as far as I could throw them," said Amber.

"Some helped us out."

"And who died in their custody?"

"Good point. But it can't be too corrupt if the police chief isn't."

"Who says she isn't? They're game players. I was one of them."

"Really?"

"For a hot minute. But when I realized what it was like…. It's a funny story… I'm from America…well, I grew up there, in case you can't tell. My family's there, but they're also here since I'm half Muldavian. Anyway. I went to college in Rakima after moving here when I was sixteen. College in the States… then back here for my masters. I lived in a little village… it's nothing like the city. So maybe I can be forgiven for my naivety about it. My parents warned me about Zelise… I didn't think it was that bad. I was fascinated with it. Then I got into some bad neighborhoods, saw some things… I wanted to go into Zelise police department because I wanted to help. But the police department was rotten from the inside. The city's institutions all need to be taken down, then built up again… At least we can make a difference to these kids.

"Well, we better get going." She saluted Markov and strode out the door.

Connie and Jason followed. When they got out into the parking lot, Amber said, "It shouldn't be too dangerous this time. The outskirts of Zelise are relatively safe."

"Relatively?" said Jason.

"Well, nowhere anywhere is safe, really. But a non-agent will probably be okay for our preliminary investigation. If we run into Karl, though…"

"I'm not particularly interested in seeing him again," said Connie, a chill running through her. His face flashed through her mind—his dark sunglasses opaque, his measured, professional voice concealing real malice. Leaning over her in the car. Then—the car chase, terror pounding through her—somehow making her arms and legs move in order to survive—the car almost swerving off the road—the gunshots that stopped her heart—

"We see any sign of him, we can send you to the back up. If you want."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"We want to keep you safe."

"Maybe… I'd better stay behind." Pain tore through her heart. What if something did happen to him? And she wasn't there for him?

"You can be another pair of eyes. In the idea I'm forming, danger will be minimal. As long as we can play our parts."

"I'm not really good at pretending to be something I'm not…."

"You did wonderfully at the party," said Jason, looking at her with admiration.

"Well… I was scared out of my mind."

"Most of us are," said Amber. "But if we can keep our heads anyway, so that no one suspects us, well—that's the mark of a good agent."

Connie laughed. The last thing she imagined herself as was an agent. But if she could be with Jason and help him find kids… if she could actually be useful instead of just tagging along… "As long as I can mostly play myself…I think I'll be okay." Her heart pounded hard. She hoped she would actually be an 'asset'.

"She doesn't give herself enough credit," said Jason.

If she could mostly focus on him… maybe she would be all right.

"Confidence comes only with learning on the job," said Amber. "It might be risky, but… it also helps you learn more concrete specifics. That'll be crucial for your survival down the line."

Connie didn't see herself as ever becoming an actual agent… but then, she could do this light freelance work at Jason's side… as long as they had a method for getting out of danger… But how could you really guarantee it? When finding people like Karl? Who had shot at least two people in the last few days. But—someone had to take the risk to find the traffickers.

"I'm thinking we'll go in as agents," said Amber, her smile tilting.

"Agents?" said Jason.

"Real estate agents. It might be a little suspect looking for property in Zelise of all places, but the outskirts are a little more likely. Zelise is cheaper than most of Muldavia. It's obvious we're outsiders—even I as someone who lived there, briefly, would be looked at with suspicion if I tried too hard to fit in. There are a lot of old resorts around the lake. That might even be the kind of place Karl is holed up in."

"Or Elliot," said Connie without thinking. Then she wondered if it was plausible.

Amber raised an eyebrow. "Maybe so. That room…did look especially opulent. It could be a resort, perhaps used as a private residence. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Sometimes an outsider can bring a fresh perspective," said Jason. "So—we'll be property scouts."

"Yeah. I know something about it… my aunt's a real estate agent back in America. You guys can hang in the background, be our eyes and ears. Maintain your persona…probably not far from your own personalities, just—focused on this task."

"We can be newlyweds," said Connie.

"Is that what you are?"

She nodded.

"That's probably a good tactic… in fact, I probably would've guessed that already if I hadn't been focused on other things." She smiled warmly. "So… to expand our range as much as possible, our strategy will be to get a holistic view of the community. Get a sense if it's actually worth building in. We're an up-and-coming firm, looking for cheap properties to start with. I'll call some realtors on the way there. I'll also see if some owners can be enticed away from their properties. We'll start on the outside and work our way in. As we spiral inward, you can gauge the risk and see if you'd like to continue or not. We'll keep backup close but invisible, so they can descend on any attackers at a moment's notice."

"That's good to know."

"It's the positive of being a large organization. We're not alone."

"That is the problem of just being the two of us."

"But you also don't have the bureaucracy weighing you down. I've thought of freelancing… maybe someday. For now… I do have some things to learn from the Service." She headed to her car. "Do you want to come with, or—"

"We should probably go separately. It's good to have that autonomy, just in case. We want to be able to get out if we need to."

"Why don't we meet at the Shovashka Park?"

"Which one's that?"

"The lake park. One of the only green spaces in town. Relatively speaking."

"Sure."

At their car, Connie hesitated. She wasn't looking forward to driving. Tension pulled taut inside her, making her feel borderline sick. But Jason had re-injured his hand; she didn't want him to strain his injury.

She climbed into the driver's seat.

"Are you sure you want to drive?" he said, looking concerned, his right hand resting on top of the car.

"Why not?"

"The other day…"

"I've driven since then." Not much. But… driving more and not being chased would probably convince her heart it didn't normally happen.

"You were like a professional." He slid in beside her.

"I don't know about that."

"Well… most amateurs would probably fall apart."

"I didn't have a choice. It was drive or get shot." And it hadn't helped in the end….

"It's when you can put others' needs over your own fear—that's the mark of a true agent." He smiled.

"It's not like… I really want to be an agent. But then… if it means I get to be with you… I just don't want to get in the way of investigations."

"Like Amber said, learning on the job is the best way. Even if it means you make mistakes."

"Mistakes in this job can get you killed."

"I'll be watching to see if it gets too dangerous. At least we have backup this time."

She started the car. "This… has made me realize I can do more than I thought. You being with me helps."

"If you got hurt … I'd blame myself. Because I should've protected you."

"You can't always."

"But I should. I should be stronger." He clenched his fist, his left one, and winced. A sympathetic pang shot all the way down her arm. He looked out the window at the passing brick buildings, his reflection distressed.

She rubbed his arm. He looked back at her, smiled softly.

"Jason, you're one of the strongest people I know."

His eyes shadowed. "I…'m not even as strong as I was before. I thought I was stronger than I was, then. Now… now that I've lost part of myself, since part of myself is still pinned to that wall—" His jaw clenched. "There's a weakness I can't defeat. This thing that's eating me up inside… seems like it's getting worse, not better. You saw what happened yesterday."

"It was sunstroke. And being shot."

"Partly. But it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been tortured. I wouldn't be—so affected by this." He turned his hand over, revealing the bandage on his palm. Blood was seeping through it. Her heart flipped. She longed to comfort him.

"Jason—" She swirled her finger down the inside of his arm, rested her fingers near his palm. "Considering what you went through—"

"Considering what I went through," he said bitterly. "I will never get back what I was."

Pain shuddered through her heart. She had thought he was over a lot of it… but it was true, it still affected him. More than he let on, probably. And here she hadn't been there for him… could've helped him more—maybe this was her fault… she shut off those thoughts. Immersing in guilt wouldn't help him. Just after he'd fought to pull her out of its mire.

"Facing it might help… it does, to a certain extent. But just when I think I'm making progress—I go five steps backward. I will never be free of it. I'll just have to live with it. It would be okay if I never took any risks. I'm fine if I'm just fiddling around Odyssey, staying places I know are safe. I don't jump at every shadow anymore. But if I want to make a difference—" He looked out the window. Then he looked at her. "And if I want to protect you- Even if we're in Odyssey, something could happen. Someone could— If I froze up, I would never forgive myself."

For a moment, it was all she could do to keep her eyes on the road, keep the car moving. "I… I wouldn't want you to blame yourself," she said, her throat tight.

"It would be my fault if I didn't do all I could. If I let this—weakness get the better of me." Self-recrimination ripped through his voice.

"Your strength is what got you through it."

"It's you that got me through it." His eyes caught hers, love burning in them. "And God, and my father. The people around me. But I can't always rely on other people. I have to be there for you. I have to do all I can… but what if it isn't enough. What if it's never enough to do any real good?" Pain flashed through his eyes. "If I fall apart when someone tries to hurt you…. if I freeze up at the worst possible moment—my PTSD doesn't wait for when it's convenient. If I can't protect you—

"I should be at my optimum. There should be no excuse— I should be all I can for you. But this—weakness—I can't get rid of it. I probably shouldn't be out in the field—no matter how much I want to. Shouldn't risk your life. I'm too…unpredictable. I didn't realize how much it still had a hold of me. All these different situations. And the proximity to torture doesn't help." He took a sharp breath.

"Well… maybe…." She hesitated, because she'd suggested this before and he hadn't taken it well. "Perhaps you should go to therapy."

He looked at her sharply. Then his eyes softened. He closed his eyes, sat back. "Maybe. Now that I know… I can't just push my way through it. I'm not sure what they can do, though… they'd probably tell me to face my fears." He laughed.

"They can probably give you some techniques…."

"Some… coping mechanisms." He grimaced. "Well… it's worth it if it can help. I can't exactly go now. And… I'm not convinced it'll work. There's some inherent weakness that kept me from overcoming it. It wasn't even like it was that bad."

"Jason—" He'd gone through unimaginable pain. It hurt just to think of it.

"Not compared to those kids. How strong they are at that age. Ana—Nika… And Elliot. Compared to them—I can't even control my reactions. I'm…akin to Gray. And he went through a lot worse. He's out there, undercover… while I can't even do a basic mission without falling apart."

"You saved those kids!"

"With a lot of…effort."

"But you were strong enough to push through it! Like Amber said, everyone has some fear, it's what you do with it."

"If there's the smallest chance I can help… I have to find the strength…." He clenched his hand into a fist and she feared he was hurting it again.

"I'll help you, if I can." She touched his shoulder, hoping to give him some calm. She was gratified to see his fingers unclench a little.

"I have to find a way, before this investigation's over. To save the ones who need saving. And eventually—I'd have to go alone. I couldn't bring you into dangerous territory."

"What if… you—" She couldn't say it. "What if.. you were alone… and I…lost those moments with you…."

"I'm probably too debilitated to go that far anyway… I'll have to glean what I can. Then let the professionals do the work. I have a feeling I'm past my prime. Even if I hadn't been…captured. Even if I hadn't let myself go."

"Jason—you're—" She almost missed her exit and swerved to turn the car onto the highway. Once she was there, she glanced at him. Let her eyes linger on him appreciatively as long as she dared. "You're just—stunning. I can't see any difference."

"I'm glad you can't… Part of it is not being on active duty. Part of it is… I didn't see the point. But now I do. If not to be an agent—then to be as honed as I possibly can. Even if I can't be as good as before… If the amount I can get is what can make the difference between failing and protecting you—I have to make the effort. Hammer my body into some semblance of… adequacy."

"Jason, you're not just adequate. You're—astonishing, beautiful—amazing—"

"I mean, I do need to get better. But your love… it makes me feel like I'm not just…some has-been, a piece of refuse thrown on the side of the road…" Pain crossed his eyes and a knife stabbed her heart that that's how Gray had made him feel. Hatred for him flashed through her, before she let God's grace subsume it again.

"I wish I could help you feel better all the time."

"You do. I don't know what I'd have done without you. I just wish I could be everything you need me to be…"

"You are."

"I need to be able to protect you. I suppose… not just working out. But getting mentally fit…I probably do needs some…professional help." He smiled. "That's what… Dr. Blackgaard said. About me, when I blundered so much during his last days. Maybe that explains my aversion to it. Although… I didn't care for it before. Even though I did get some mandatory at the Agency… that wasn't too bad, but I didn't feel like I needed it. I…may have needed it on retrospect. If I needed it then… then I certainly do now. I just wish I could be strong on my own. That's probably a weakness, ironically."

"The stronger you are, the harder it is to admit you need help."

"You're right. That's… probably why Gray has had such a hard time. He wanted to be able to get through it himself. But not even a superhuman could." He pursed his lips. "And he's as close to superhuman as they come."

"So are you."

"Connie—"

"I mean it. You carried me through my… you know. You've held onto your compassion, your integrity—you didn't give in. Don't compare yourself to others. Everyone needs help sometimes."

"I suppose—we do need others. No matter how strong we are."

She nodded. "It takes a while to get through… anything. And it always stays with you, in a way."

"Hey, maybe you should be my therapist."

"Well… I love to help you as much as I can. But they can probably help with some specific things. Didn't Amber say something about being a psychologist?"

He nodded. "I don't think she's a therapist though. She would know about the specific challenges of being an agent…"

"Wouldn't hurt to ask her. She mentioned… ways to cope."

"Maybe I will."

"There's another way you're superhuman," she said. Her face flared and heat raced through her body. She glanced at his beautiful form, a lock of hair falling over his forehead, glinting in the sunlight. The perfect planes of his face… the way the shirt pressed against his muscles…. How he could think he'd let himself go she had no idea. Yesterday—in that magical place… he'd blown her away twice in quick succession. She could hardly think straight, with the memories flooding her mind. She longed to stay with him in that moment forever. Part of her was always there already… burning to shreds with his love.

She caressed his inner thigh. His eyes widened and he gasped. How beautiful he looked, at the mercy of her touch. His lips slightly parted. His eyes in stunned wonder.

"Hey—" he said. "You'd better keep your eyes on the road."

Her car was getting dangerously close to the red car in front of her. She tapped the breaks.

"You're a good driver," he said breathlessly. "When you're not…distracted."

"I suppose… I better be careful." Regret filled her. Part of her didn't care if they crashed—but then, she didn't want Jason hurt. Didn't want to be parted from him. It didn't do to live totally in the moment. She just wished she could be with him… all the time, nothing to interrupt.

Saving the kids, though—was worth the interruption.

I just hope nothing keeps me away from him for long. We can find the kids and then get back to—our never-ending honeymoon.

Soon.

Maybe they could go to the waterfall again…

The exquisitely painful pleasure of anticipation carved through her.

Zelise loomed up ahead, shimmering like a dingy mirage. Soon they reached the park on the outskirts of town and she parked the car along the parkway. It must've been a beautiful lake once, she thought with a pang of sorrow for what had been lost. Now it was just a muddy hole with stranded boats stuck haphazardly in it, some of them looking like they were valiantly struggling to shore, some tipped over and half eaten by slime and lichen. A few dilapidated boats were moored to rotting piers. It was a tragedy vividly representing what had happened to the entire city. It had been a resort town, and then the lake had dried up, and all that was left were a few factories billowing smoke, their grimy towers looking like a tangle of pipes from a strange instrument discarded along the shore.

It took a few minutes for Amber to pull up beside them in a purple convertible, her reddish-gold curls tousled, her golden-tan face glistening in the sun. "Hey," she said. "I dropped by my apartment and picked up my good car. Thought it would fit my image."

"It's beautiful," said Jason. "What kind is it?"

"Katvesh, a native Muldavian company," she said. "I got it in college… not the most practical. But it's lasted this long because I took special care of it. Had to get a more practical car before long, though, so this baby usually has to stay in storage… Nice to be able to take her out."

"I'd like to take a look under the hood—later."

"Sure. Purrs like a kitten. Very loud one." She tapped the dashboard affectionately then revved the engine.

"I wouldn't mind taking it for a spin."

"No offense… but I don't let anyone drive Mshora but me."

"Is that the model?"

"No, it's her name."

"What's it mean?" Connie asked.

"Lark."

"That's beautiful."

"Skylark, specifically. Figured she should have a Muldavian name since that's where she's from.

"So. I honed our story a bit more on the way. You guys are two businesspeople with some money to burn. Newlyweds excited to make some bold yet not too risky investments. You want to tag along because you like to be hands-on, especially since you're enthusiastic for your first venture. You'll hang in the background, ask stuff if you see fit, while I take the lead. Sound good?"

"Yep," said Jason.

"I called some realtors and owners on the way here. A couple owners were amenable to at least consideration of selling. The rest didn't answer." She gestured to the beautiful resort nearest them. "There's our first stop."

"That one?" said Connie.

"Probably out of your price range, but doesn't hurt to look. It's Zelise, so they might be open to negotiation."

She briefed them a little more on their role, like how much money they had to spend. Then they headed to the hotel, a three story building, forest green. The realtor, a cheery woman with orangish curls, met them on the stairs and ushered them inside.

Connie gasped at the vast space of the entryway. Light poured through the huge window above the staircase, which had intricately carved white railings and was divided above the landing.

"It's the pride and joy of the park district," said the realtor. "It is a tragedy the lake dried up, but we expect that to be rectified soon."

"You mean, fill the lake back up?" said Jason.

She pursed her lips. "The factories polluted the lake and a well-meaning businessman sucked it dry. We're looking for new investors to come and pour their care into the city so it can return to its former glory." She smiled at them.

"We're certainly interested," said Jason, looking around.

"It would be a shame for this spectacular property to go to waste. It has so much potential! Let me show you around."

The realtor led them through the house; Amber, Connie, and Jason asked questions and she answered enthusiastically. She seemed genuinely invested in the house and hopeful for the future of Zelise. Connie wondered if Zelise could rise again… with the crime and corruption, it would probably take more than a few investors to make it right. She wondered if real investors would risk it or would see it as too far gone… unless the town was cleaned up somehow…

Connie peeked into closets, some of them almost as large as a bedroom. She began to fall in love with the hotel… but there was really no way they could actually follow through on their 'interest'. It made her sad that the hotel might never get its chance.

The realtor's heels clicked on the rich green marble as she led them back down the staircase. No sign of anything shady going on in the hotel. They could cross one place off the list.

The next place had some potential—a charming red brick hotel with vines climbing up its walls. Crumbling a little in spots. But inside it was luxurious and there was a lovely common room with pool tables and gym equipment and a pool room which included a hot tub. She felt like relaxing in it… alone with Jason, preferably. Someday…. There was also a lovely veranda and a yard enclosed by a brick wall and an effusion of shrubs. That area was a little more dilapidated, since it had been abandoned for several years, but it had potential. A slow-burning fever grew in her to fix up a hotel, perhaps a bed and breakfast…. Play hostess every day… live a leisurely, relaxed life with Jason…

The other hotels were a bit less enticing and she almost fell through the floor in one. Jason grabbed her arm and the realtor begged apology and rushed them out of there. Then, on their own, they headed to houses that owners had shown a desire to possibly sell. These were a little less eager to show their whole houses, which was understandable. Most of them were just hanging on because their houses hadn't sold. They'd taken them off the market, or not put them on in the first place because they didn't think anyone would want them. One young woman was over the moon they were interested and they hardly got out of there without her begging them to take it off her hands for a song.

The next owner was a bit more reserved. He seemed a little suspicious and Jason put himself between the man and Connie while he asked questions. And tried to prod the owner to show more, which he resisted… and they practically got thrown out of the house.

Walking down the sidewalk, Amber said, "That one might be worth coming back to. Staking out, maybe."

They'd come to the end of the houses either for sale or potentially for sale. The hot wind blew grit into Connie's mouth, as it swirled across the lake and over the empty lot full of gravel and crabgrass, just a few stones showing that there had once been a building there. Across the street stood a rather broke-down old bed and breakfast, the sign almost totally faded. There was just a little dull blue paint clinging to the wood siding, although it must have once been beautiful with its Victorian elaborate tooling. It reminded Connie vaguely of Whit's End. Maybe it wasn't too far gone…

Amber exchanged glances with them. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"It looks abandoned," said Jason.

"So… no one to keep us out." She tilted her head. "Most of the windows aren't broken…. Could be better on the inside." She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe Elliot's in there."

"Or the kids." He slid his hand into his pocket where she knew he kept his gun.

Amber strode across the street and sidewalk to step onto the long grass just beneath an overgrown shrub covered with small, trumpet-like white flowers, most of them partially brown and drooping drably. Connie slid under its shade, which made her feel a little better out of the oppressive heat—even hotter than yesterday, humidity laden in the air, almost electric with the hint of an invisible storm somewhere in the west.

Amber's eyes scanned the house. She crept across the lawn and vaulted over the porch railing, then flattened back against the corner and gestured subtly to them.

Jason's hand snug in hers, they dashed across the lawn and then Jason boosted Connie up to the porch. She joined Amber against the wall while Jason climbed up, mostly using the hand that hadn't been re-injured.

Amber flashed a subtle smile, her hazel eyes twinkling, then opened the screen door. Its hinges squealed in protest. She turned the doorknob; it didn't open. Then she picked the lock and shoved the door. It budged a little but not enough so she slammed her shoulder into it. Then it scraped shudderingly wide enough for her to squeeze through. Connie followed and Jason slipped through after them.

The house was dark and silent inside. Sunrays filtered through half-curtained windows, slicing through the shadows with glittering shafts of light. The room was empty except for musty floorboards and a dusty couch in the corner.

"Probably not it," whispered Amber. "But it could be a façade…."

They crept through the house, the floorboards creaking. The kitchen had a pile of old magazines on the counter. Connie gasped and jolted back when she saw the dark oblong form of a cockroach skittering around in the sink. Jason grasped her arm. "I'll protect you," he whispered close to her ear. She held back a laugh.

The dining room betrayed hints of former glory, with a long table under a faux-candle chandelier and hints of glossy finish. There were also random piles of old magazines scattered across it and a chipped plate with a fork beside it.

They headed up the rather well-kept staircase. The bed room at the top of the stairs looked like it had been nice once, with a soft pink carpet and some nice old furniture. But there were impressions in the carpet where a bed had been, and too many spiderwebs for Connie to want to check the room out. Jason and Amber didn't find anything, though they looked carefully for any possible clues.

At the end of the hallway was a large room, the door slightly ajar, light spilling through a tall window. They crept forward and Jason pushed the door. It swung open.

A beautiful carpet, deep green with red designs tracing through it. A lovely desk in front of the window, a dresser with a vanity beside it. There was also a canopied bed, the covers slightly rumpled and rolled back.

Someone had been here.

And… her heart shuddered.

Elliot had been forced onto a canopied bed—and—

She shut her eyes, trying to shut out that vison, but it flashed across her mind's eye, growing more vivid the more she tried to block it out.

Jason grasped her arm. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, taking solace in his presence. "Just that—"

"I…saw it too."

Amber looked back at them quizzically from where she was examining the bed. Then she dropped to her knees and checked underneath it. Dragged out a magazine, this one a little less dusty but just as ragged as the ones downstairs. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she flipped through it and pursed her lips, eyebrow raised. "Interesting material." She showed a picture. It was a vintage photo of some rather scantily clad women. She clapped the magazine shut and showed them the cover. The woman looked like an actor from an old silent movie, black and white with large, shadowed eyes. The date was March 1919.

"Something's up here, we'd better be on our—" Amber stopped.

In the doorway stood a short woman in her late fifties, with wild graying hair and eyes snapping with anger. She wore loose green shirt, a robe, and leggings, and held a shotgun, aiming it at them.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Amber held out her arms. "We don't mean any harm. We didn't think anyone lived here."

"Likely story. You're probably here to steal what's left of my house!" She reached into her pocket. Pulled out a cellphone. "I'm calling the police."

"Wait!" said Jason, slowly maneuvering in front of Connie. "You don't have to do that. We'll get out of your hair."

The woman just glared at them as she answered the phone. "Yes. This is Karla. Caught some intruders. You wanna come down and take care of it? No, it really is this time. I have them right here. Yeah, you better." She shoved the phone back into her pocket.

"We can just…head out and you never have to see us again," said Jason.

"And let the police think I'm a liar? It was probably you last time, too. I'm not having intruders rifling through my sister's things. Now sit down."

"But—"

"Sit down!" She jerked the gun toward the bed. Connie shuffled shakily over to the bed and sat between Jason and Amber. Appearances could be deceiving, but this woman didn't seem like a trafficker.

Karla paced the room, holding the shotgun vaguely in their direction, until the police arrived.

"Well, well, well," said Estelle, the lieutenant who had overseen the operation to rescue Mina, Hannah, and the other kids—and who had ruthlessly tortured Leon Kohl, the trafficker who had also died under her watch.

A chill flooded Connie. These police weren't exactly allies.

"If it isn't the agent who interfered with my investigation," said Estelle, striding into the room. The policeman who had accompanied her before, Ellis, strode in after her.

"I didn't exactly interfere," said Jason. "I was trying to help."

"'Trying' being the operative word. Now you're making my job harder by causing unnecessary trouble."

"We didn't know this house was occupied," said Amber. "It's just…a misunderstanding."

"And why were you snooping around in the first place? This is my territory. If you want to do any investigation, you've got to go through me first."

Amber made an attempt to stand up, but another police officer pressed on her shoulder and kept her down. She glanced at him with wounded annoyance. "We're with the Muldavian Security Service. We don't need to consult the local police before we conduct investigations."

"You do in my town." Estelle rested a hand on her hip, fingers brushing her holster.

Amber raised an eyebrow. "It's not exactly your town."

Estelle scoffed. "You still haven't answered my question. Why are you here."

"We don't have to answer that. We are the higher level of law; we have the right to withhold any information we want."

"This isn't Rakima or—ha—Valhad. We do things our own way here, because it's the only way that works."

"I look out the window and all I see is a wasteland. Look at this house, for instance."

"What's wrong with my house?" said Karla. "May be a little run down, but I have what I need. If you had your way, I probably wouldn't even have that."

"Like this wonderful magazine?" said Amber, nudging the magazine with her foot where it had fallen.

"My sister loved those magazines."

"You wouldn't last a day in this place," said Estelle. "None of you would." Her eyes flitted over Connie, barely giving her more than a cursory disdainful look, before settling on Jason. She sneered. "To think I let you in my police station. Taking up precious time that could've been used to find traffickers."

"You mean torturing them to death?" said Jason.

"I got what I needed from that scumbag," said Estelle. "No thanks to you. I learned a lesson not to bring in outsiders. But I didn't kill anyone. Contrary to what you might think, I'm a professional. I know when to hold back—what causes pain and what actually kills."

"Who killed him?"

"I—don't know. We're still investigating."

"So—someone else somehow got into your locked station and killed him?"

"Whoever did it, he's extremely skilled. This was no ordinary murder. It was an assassination. Someone slithered in right under our noses…. Right between frames of the security cameras… Well. I'm not going to discuss my business with you. What I am going to do is teach you a lesson."

"We don't have time for this," said Amber.

"You're going to keep snooping around my town?"

"Well—"

"You need to get it into your heads you don't belong here. Maybe some quality time in jail downtown will imprint that on your mind."

"But—" Amber paled beneath her copper freckles. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I will. Each second you protest, I'll add three hours to your sentence."

"That's illegal."

"That's not your call. I rely on the Chief's judgement. And we're pretty in sync as far as that goes, so she trusts me with a lot of leeway. Let's go." She gestured to Ellis and the other policeman, a bulky man whose muscles were plainly evident beneath his uniform. Ellis grabbed Amber's arm and the other man grabbed Jason's.

Connie stood shakily. Took a step toward Estelle who looked at her dubiously. "Please, don't take him. He didn't do anything wrong."

"At the very least, he was trespassing. Scaring this poor old woman." She gestured to Karla, who looked both relieved and wary, and not particularly vulnerable with the shotgun still tucked under her arm.

"Maybe…" Her voice shrank to almost a whisper. "You could just take one of us? I could go in—"

Estelle smirked. "You're not worth the trouble. No one would believe you're the ringleader." She turned her back on her, making a neat pivot on her heel. They marched Jason and Amber, now handcuffed, out the door and past Karla, who watched them with righteous indignation.

Connie followed, not sure what to do. They didn't even seem to pay attention to her. But she didn't want to leave Jason alone.

Maybe she could take word to Markov—no, he was in the hospital. The king, of course, could do something—

But once she reached the police car idling outside the house, Estelle turned to her and grabbed her arm, shoving her in beside Jason. She had no chance to struggle.

She settled in beside him, feeling very small and weak. Her only comfort was Jason, but she wished he hadn't been arrested. She would have gladly taken his place… though she had to grudgingly agree with Estelle—she didn't make a very likely ringleader. Technically, Amber was the ringleader, but they hadn't been doing anything wrong… or had they. They'd been trespassing. It had been a mistake—anyone could've mistaken such a house for being abandoned. Did you need a warrant for an abandoned house? Connie wasn't sure of the law, even less for a different country. She assumed Amber would've known what was legal and what wasn't… but she didn't strike Connie as someone particularly cautious. A trait she shared with Jason.

There had to be a way out of this. It wouldn't actually go to trial, would it? Estelle seemed a bit vindictive, but she wouldn't really hold them illegally, would she?

Bloody slashes flashed across her mind—the broken form that had been Leon. Estelle wasn't exactly the kind of person who followed the letter of the law. It was kind of like a wild west out here… it had been left to its own devices and the police thought they knew best… even if that meant bending or breaking a few laws. Match the roughness of the town with their own. Become what they were supposed to be fighting.

They hadn't even bothered to handcuff her, which gave her the freedom to grasp Jason's hand, the cold of the handcuff's metal pressing into her wrist.

Jason smiled at her. "We'll get out of this. They might be a bit rough around the edges, but they still work within a legal framework."

"Don't be too sure about that," whispered Amber. "Don't trust any of them."

"What can we do?"

"Watch and listen. Don't take any deals. Best is to contact an outside party. Otherwise… we might have to play fast and loose with the law, too. Take whatever chance we can get. We could try to get a lawyer… but our best bet is to shed any charges entirely by contacting the acting director. What we were doing was in the purview of our duty, and she can keep any charges from sticking. Then we can get back to our investigation."

Ellis slid into the front seat. Estelle sat in the passenger seat and the other policeman took the other car and turned on the siren as he led them through the streets of Zelise.

The cars stopped at the police station. But instead of taking them through the side, they took them through the front.

The lobby was bustling with activity, filled with police officers who were busy processing criminals, and clerks who entered the information. A huge man with a tattooed face sat next to a woman in a short skirt who was filing her nails with a bored expression. A few people, one a tearful young woman with running mascara, were speaking with members of the police department. Connie expected to have a long wait, but they merely entered their names and then took them into the back.

A dreary fluorescent hallway was lined with identical doors with small barred windows. The policemen shoved Jason and Amber into the cell and Estelle gestured for Connie to go inside as well. She smirked. "Let's see how well you do stewing in here for a few hours." She laughed and slammed the door.

The slam reverberated through Connie's heart. For a moment, she was frozen. Then Jason slid his arm around her waist. "It'll be okay." Warmth spun through her. He was here… nothing could hurt her. But at the same time, she hated that he was trapped again. Who knew when they would get out. What Estelle had in mind for them.

"They can't really keep us in here very long, right?" she said.

"I think she's just trying to scare us. It isn't exactly legal… but she does have the pretext of trespassing."

"So we could really get in trouble?"

"It's not a very serious charge. It's just an excuse to keep us here…. Threaten us away from her territory. I don't think she'll really do anything nefarious. It's just annoying that it's keeping us away from our investigation. I just wish you were safe back at the palace."

"It was my choice to come."

"I hope… it doesn't get more dangerous than this. Jail is mostly just…inconvenient. We'll probably be here for a couple hours. All we have to do is wait it out." He looked around the room at the bench along the wall, the pristine floor. Amber was pacing from one side to the other, her hands behind her back.

She glanced at them. "I—don't do well in captivity." She laughed nervously. "I really should settle down and try to figure a way out of this…"

"How are you doing?" Connie asked him.

"I'm…okay. So far. Your presence… does help."

"See? It's better that I'm here." She caressed his face.

"There is one way we could pass the time." Passion gleamed in his blue eyes.

She longed to let all this disappear, for a little while. It didn't matter where they were— in a beautiful garden, or in a prison. As long as they were together. To be with him completely—something so intense and wonderful—it would make everything terrible fade into insignificance.

Theoretically, they were free to do what they wanted within the room. But…there were a few obstacles, if they minded any observers.

"Don't mind me," said Amber, lying down on the furthest shelf. "I'm going to take a nap. You don't have to be quiet—I'll be out like a light."

"Um, thanks," said Jason. That was one obstacle gone. But guards could come in at any moment…. And there was also a security camera above the door.

He sat down on the bench. She sat down beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder. He slid his hand in hers, tracing along her veins. It tickled softly…longing stirred through her to be even closer. She kissed along his jaw; he turned slowly to meet her lips, their hands clasped between them as the kiss built. She marveled at his mouth, how it could send thrills chasing up and down her skin like miniature wildfires.

She explored his arms—their fantastic muscles, the squiggles of veins, their spectacular hardness. She kissed his bicep, the underside of his forearm, his wrist. Pressed her lips lightly to the edge of his thumb. He gasped, lips parted, eyes wondering, starving. She traced his fingers delicately, then cupped his hand in hers and kissed his palm, careful to avoid the injury. Giving him light, small barely-kisses, lifting away just after she pressed down. He grasped her hand, drawing it to him, and his lips pressed gently to her knuckles, the top of her hand, to glide delicately over her palm, her wrist…the inside of her elbow… his other hand pressed to her waist, then slid beneath her shirt and caressed her stomach delicately… She gasped, aching need burning inside her…. Oh, she wanted him, wanted more, all of him—

She pressed her hand to his chest, reveling in the packed muscles. Oh how she longed for those muscles to press tightly to her skin… Her hand in his hair, she kissed along his neck… he leaned back against the wall, bliss on his face…. She lifted the shirt slightly and kissed his stomach, pouring her love through her kisses.

"Connie, I—Please…" He weakly slid away. "We—better stop."

Hurt shot through her for a moment before it slammed back into her where they were. "Oh."

He nodded. "Unless… you don't mind giving them a show…."

She shook her head. She didn't want to share something so sacred with these people who had stuffed them in here.

It was a shame, though… And there wasn't much else to do. No phones, no books, no TV.

"I—wouldn't be able to stand it," he said, "staying at that level. But… I can't stand being away from you, either…." He held out his hand. She took it. And snuggled up close to him, and they held each other close.

She stirred in Jason's arms. She felt stiff—then she saw the blank white wall across from her. Still in jail. Muffled thunder rumbled. The dull tap of rain drummed on the roof of the station. She lay there, not wanting to disturb him, his chest and stomach pressing against her back, his arm draped over her waist. It was a cramped space, not meant for more than one. She wished he wasn't pressed so tightly against the wall. She was practically falling off, but that wasn't as confining. And he had old and new injuries. Somehow they'd ended up in this position, though she couldn't remember lying down….

Amber got up from her bench and leaned against the wall. Then she slid down it and sat on the floor. After a moment, she said softly, "Would you mind if I do some yoga?"

Connie shook her head. Amber did some yoga poses, demonstrating strength and flexibility Connie could only dream of.

Jason stirred behind her and slid his fingers into her hair. Brushed her cheek lovingly. She tried to turn to face him but almost fell off. Instead, she sat up beside him and he joined her, wrapping her close again.

Amber stood and walked over to the door. She peered out the window. "They should be here by now."

"What time is it?" said Jason.

"One-seventeen!" She indicated her watch and leaned against the door. Just as it opened.

Amber turned to face their captor. "There you are!"

Estelle entered, looking, if possible, more smug than before. Ellis, looking a little discomfited, walked behind her. "So, did you reconsider?"

"Reconsider what?" said Amber.

"Barging in on my affairs."

"We were only doing our job."

"Rather irresponsibly."

"We shouldn't have trespassed. Is the owner pressing charges?"

"Of course she is. That's not the main issue. Will you leave town?"

"We still have business here."

"This is our jurisdiction. You will go through us."

"We'll do our job much more effectively on our own."

"It's clear you haven't learned your lesson. Maybe three more hours—"

"We need our phone call!"

"Very well. Come with me."

Ellis handcuffed Amber and led her out. A few minutes later, he led her back in. She was fuming.

"What happened?" said Jason.

Amber sat down on her bench. Leaned her head in her hands, burying her fingers in her curls. "She's—not being reasonable."

"Who?"

"The acting director. Cora Andronova. She—" Amber shook her head. "She said it was my fault for getting into this. Being 'amateurish' and wasting the company's resources. I tried to tell her it wasn't the law I was in trouble with, but she wouldn't listen to me." She sat up, leaned back against the wall. "Markov might not have respected me much, but he would have listened to my point of view. He would've understood that Zelise is different, that it operates by its own rules. He knows it's corrupt to the core. But Cora… she doesn't care. Doesn't see.

"I do hope Markov gets reinstated… I have a feeling… I don't know, this could just be a suspicion…that Cora wants to get rid of the old guard. Build her own support system… block Markov out. And people he was close to. Which includes me. I don't want to be part of a power struggle but I may have no choice."

"I hope he doesn't get kicked out permanently," said Jason. "Despite what he did, he's a good man."

"And he's good for the Service. I hope they see that…. I hope Andronova doesn't get her claws too deep in Aleem… This is all speculation, since I don't know her at all. But… I'm really not predisposed to trust her…."

"So… she wouldn't help us out?"

"She said we got into it, we need to get ourselves out of it. I may have used up my phone calls, but you both are owed one. I hope Estelle honors that at least…."

"We should probably call a lawyer," said Jason.

"A lawyer will have to take us through the system. We don't have that kind of time. I thought the director could've helped with that, but…. If you have someone else in mind…."

"The king?" said Connie.

"I don't want to get him mixed up in this if I don't have to. He has enough to deal with."

"You do have a direct link to the highest authority," said Amber.

"It's true we don't have time….."

"Karl might have already moved the kids."

"If we can find where he was… hopefully he'll have cleared out fast enough that he leaves some clues."

"He is a professional though. I have a feeling if he goes underground… it'll be almost impossible to find him."

"We've gone through most of the outskirts of Zelise."

"Just a few available houses left. Those happen to be in the suburban development. Quite different houses, but more pricy since they're not on the edge of falling down. It's the one oasis in Zelise where there's hardly any crime.

"If Estelle wasn't so obfuscating, we'd be able to sneak around the rest of the lake district. It's not as if she's doing her job—crime levels plateaued here years ago. Unless her job involves protecting human traffickers, which could be the case… We'll have to be a little more discreet this time…. People in the suburbs will notice anyone out of place."

"So…we might have to wait three more hours for us to make our phone call."

"Estelle might let us out if we act…like we're sufficiently contrite." She frowned. "It might be worth it to grovel…."

"She wouldn't keep us overnight or anything?" said Connie.

"I—don't think so. But you never know. Legally, she can't keep us for questioning more than twelve hours…"

"Twelve hours!"

"That's a significant loophole. What she's doing is within legal grounds…but not really because our offense isn't that serious, and it's pressuring us to do things her way." She shook her head. "If you want to bend the law, there's a lot of ways to do it… if you care more about yourself than the people you're serving."

A knock on the door. Connie jumped.

"That's strange," said Amber. "They usually just barge in." She sidled over to the door and looked out the small window. A puzzled look crossed her face. "It's some guy."

"What kind of guy?" said Jason, moving closer to the door.

"Well-dressed. Looks a little…slick. But I don't like to judge. My intuition's been wrong."

"I think I know who it is." He looked out the window. "It is. Ali."

Connie felt like shrinking back into the wall. What could he be doing here?

"Who's that?" said Amber.

"Someone we've…worked with." He stopped close to Amber, whispered, "Your intuition's right in this case. He's with Yavesh."

"What."

"But he's also been helpful."

The knock became more insistent.

"Playing some game."

Jason nodded. He tapped the door and the key jingled in the lock from the outside.

Ali swooped in. He wore a charcoal suit with a lavender undertone, no tie. His dark hair glistened, a curl drooping over his forehead in an intentionally casual manner he probably thought was dashing. Who knew, she might have been charmed by him before, but knowing who he worked with… and knowing his 'innocently' prodding manner… along with his blatant flirting…. But she had to act like she was happy to see him.

In a way she was. If he was her ticket out of here.

The thing was, would he demand something for all of this help later? What exactly was his game?

They also knew he was trafficking kids from his orphanage. Anger flooded her and she had to fight to suppress it. Just think about the investigation now.

"Imagine finding you here!" said Ali, grinning.

"So…you have access to the jail cells?" said Jason.

"I know the chief. I convinced her you meant no harm. You're free to go."

"How did you know we were here?"

"I needed to know something…they showed me the police cameras. And one of them showed you being brought in." He laughed. "Imagine my surprise! I just had to find out what your crime was. As I figured, it was nothing substantial. Estelle seems to hold a grudge against you."

"We were just doing our job," said Amber.

"Of course you were." He stepped further into the room, not fazed in the least he was in a jail cell. Of course, he had the key. "So who's this lovely little lady?"

"Amber," she said, glaring at him.

"Just as beautiful as your name. And so exotic. I can't quite place your ethnicity."

"You think that being rich gives you license to say anything you want?"

"I mean no offense. I'm a minority myself. I know that privilege only goes so far when it comes to prejudice."

"I've found that out too. Doesn't give you the right to be rude."

"It does give me the power to get you out." He twirled the key. "You owe me a debt of gratitude."

"I suppose you'll want to cash in on it?"

"It's just a figure of speech, my dear. I'd settle for a 'thank you'. You owe me that much."

She placed a hand on her hip. "I suppose I do." She seemed to consider something. "Thank you."

Ali smiled. "Shall we get out of here?"

"Yes, please," said Connie, who stepped out the door. Jason followed, looking a little dazed. He grasped her arm as if for support. He'd probably been holding himself together that whole time, and now that he was out… he'd need time to recover. She wanted to give him every chance… give him all the love and care he needed. Too bad they couldn't just go back to the palace… their mission might have been finished if not for their 'arrest'!

Ali led them out to the back parking lot. They ran through the rain to jump into his red sports car. Jason sat in front while Connie sat in back with Amber.

Ali asked what brought them to the police station. Connie wondered if it was best to tell Ali what was going on, but he'd probably find out anyway, and if he caught them in a lie, he'd know they were suspicious of him.

It startled her how easy it was becoming to think in the twisty way you had to when you were a spy.

Maybe I'm cut out for this after all, she thought facetiously.

Jason told him they were looking for Karl Wolff.

"If you wouldn't mind, I could loan my influence and expertise to your mission," said Ali. "I'd also love another chance to watch you in action." He laid a hand on Jason's shoulder, looking at him for a moment as he turned the car around a curve.

Connie's stomach flipped. Was he really hitting on him—or was it her imagination? In any case, anger stirred in her heart. Ali had no claim to him in any way. Someone needed to defend him. She vowed to be more protective of him in the future. She would draw Ali's attention to her, rather than see Ali pay Jason any more unwanted attentions.

Thankfully, Ali lifted his hand from Jason's shoulder.

They stopped where they'd parked their cars. The rain had lightened to a drizzle; Connie stepped out into it, knowing it would turn her hair into a frizzy mass. Ali stepped over to Amber's car. "It's a Zha 2005, isn't it?"

Amber nodded. Ali slid his fingers along the hood, sluicing away raindrops, lingering on its smooth surface.

"We can probably take it from here," said Amber. "Thanks for all of your help."

"My influence can open any door you can imagine. My business expertise can take you places you can't even dream of."

"This is an MSS operation. You're not a professional."

"Neither are they." He gestured toward Jason and Connie, who were standing by their car. "But you took them on because you thought they could be of help. You're obviously not one to stick to strict protocol. You're a smart, clever agent. You know when to make use of the resources you're offered."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not taken in by the flattery. "I'm not sure if this is a mission I'd need you for. All we're doing is looking at houses…. Trying to see if there's anything strange going on around the neighborhood."

"I know real estate."

"I thought you were into electronics."

"Any millionaire who knows what their doing invests in real estate. I can help you with your overt mission—and also with your covert one. I know Zelise—all its neighborhoods. I can find details an outsider might not. And I happen to have innate intuition when it comes to spying. My business is my business—and this is my recreation."

"What specifically can you do for me?"

"Depends on what you need."

"I need to look at some more houses. If you can get them for me—"

"Done."

She looked a little surprised but said, "Covertly, I need someone to watch and see if there's anything wrong in the neighborhood."

"I excel at finding relevant details. That's how my business became the success it is today."

"I suppose…" She looked at Jason, who nodded.

"If you want, I can look at houses on my own, cover more ground."

"I think I'd like us to stick together. So we can all see the clues."

"Makes sense."

They sat on a half-rotten picnic table under a tree near the edge of the lake. Amber briefed Ali on the basics of the mission so they'd be on the same page. Then they headed to their cars.

Connie climbed in, relieved to be alone with Jason. Away from the cell, away from Ali. She wasn't particularly looking forward to this mission now that Ali had insinuated himself into it.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she said as she drove, following Amber, Ali behind her.

"If he's with us," said Jason, "we might learn something. He is one of our few ties to Yavesh."

"What if he messes up the mission?"

"He's helped so far."

"Why would he want to help find kids if he's a trafficker?"

"I don't know. He probably has some sort of agenda we can't see. Unless he's changed… somehow I doubt it."

"Just how he acts…."

"On the borderline of acceptable behavior. Maybe just because he's rich. Thinks he's entitled to anything he wants. Pushes himself into the investigation."

"And he—" She stopped. She didn't want to say it, acknowledge it.

He looked at her, eyes shadowed. "I know. I need to—let him know it's not okay. I did before—and he still…. It's hardly inappropriate; some people show more…physical affection than others. But… I have a feeling it's more than just…admiration."

"I—don't like him near you."

"I don't think he'd really try anything…."

"He's a trafficker."

"I think I could fight him off."

"What about your injuries?"

"Getting better. I'd use all my strength, anyway. I belong only to you. Next time he tries anything—I'll let him know it makes me uncomfortable. Only reason I didn't before was… I didn't want to antagonize him. And I—well. Couldn't quite believe it was happening. That it really meant…." He shook his head. "I don't like thinking of it."

"We could tell him to leave…."

"We don't want to make him suspicious. This mission… it's mostly just looking around. We can use it as a pretext to watch him. See if he slips up."

"You think he will?"

"I don't know. He's a…slippery character. But he's not perfect. Besides, if he's with us, he can't be involved in trafficking. We're keeping him occupied."

"Just as long as he doesn't…do anything against us."

"We have Amber. And there's backup… though they apparently couldn't get us out of jail."

They reached the suburban development. There was a gate across the road with the words "Shangri-la" on it in elaborately curly gold letters. Amber rolled up to the security officer's window.

"Pass," he demanded.

"I have an appointment."

"Passcode, then. Or temporary pass."

"They… didn't give me one."

"Can't get in without it."

"Why do you need a gate at all?"

"Why do you think?" He looked her over. "You must be from out of town."

"From Rakima."

"Well, out-of-towners certainly need one. I even know people who live here on sight, but I still require them to give me their card."

Ali walked past them to stop at the security window. "Excuse me," he said, "I think I have what you need."

He handed the man a card and a wad of iridescent Muldavian bills. Both items disappeared as if with a magician's sleight of hand. The security guard waved at them. "Go on through," he said.

The gate opened, squealing a little, and Connie drove behind the purple convertible into a wonderland.

Wide streets lined with flowers. Flowering trees drooping over the road. Large swaths of grass, fountains, a park. Beautiful houses not like typical suburban cardboard ones, but each unique, many with embellishments like stone arches, brick décor, lavish landscaping.

"This…might be it," said Jason grimly.

"What?"

"Where Elliot's kept. The room seemed like a rich, new place, not old-fashioned or broken down at all. He…might be hidden here somewhere…"

"The kids too."

"Maybe so. Karl might think we wouldn't expect him to be here…. Though it would be harder to keep it secret…"

They pulled up near a salmon-colored house across from the park. It had a white picket fence and ivy crawling up the side of its stone façade. A yellow sports car sat in the driveway; the garage door was open. Connie checked her hair in the mirror; she smoothed out its wild ends. Jason took a strand of hair and kissed it. "Beautiful. Just like that."

She smiled, knowing she didn't look perfect—but that didn't matter. Because to him, she was always beautiful.

As Connie climbed out, the sun burst through the clouds, shedding bright sunrays over the gently rolling hills of the park, casting sparkles onto the pond where swans floated serenely. "I wonder why they're moving away," said Connie.

"Who knows. Might've gotten a new job or something."

Amber walked over to them, Ali right after. Ali spread out one arm. "See what I can do for you?"

"What," said Jason.

"Why, open doors, of course. Or, gates in this case."

Amber led the way to the house. On the way up the sidewalk, a man emerged from the garage. He was tall, well-built, with honey-blond hair, wearing a smudged white T-shirt. He wiped grease from his hands with a rag. "I think I'm the one you're looking for. I'm Ken Stallen." He held out his hand. Amber took it and so did Jason, Ali, and Connie. His hand felt slightly greasy; it came away with a smudge.

"Oh, sorry about that. I didn't clean up as well as I thought. Excuse me." He headed back in the house. A moment later a beautiful woman came to the door and welcomed them in. She had almost the same shade of golden hair as he did, which was long and bound into a loose bun, one strand dangling beside her cheek.

"Hi, I'm Rania," she said and shook their hands. "Please excuse the state of disarray. We're in the process of moving."

Just then, a scream reverberated through the house. One small girl ran through the kitchen, another slightly taller girl chasing after her, shrieking, brandishing an empty paper towel roll.

"It can't be easy moving with kids…" said Connie.

"You have no idea. Or maybe you do. Do you have any of your own?"

The question struck Connie in the heart. She shook her head.

"Please, come in." She gestured to the foyer. The floor was tiled with evergreen diamonds on white and the walls were rich stained wood. A table lined both walls, artificial flowers standing in fancy vases in artful arrangements.

Soon Ken joined them, and they both showed them around the house while kids dashed around and over furniture and boxes. Half the furniture had been moved to their new house, so some of the rooms were almost empty except for lavish rugs with intricate designs.

"This one's Persian," said Rania, gesturing to the rug in the upstairs spare room. "I'd be willing to part with it for a little extra. This isn't my favorite. That's in our room."

"It's beautiful," said Connie, wishing she really had the money to buy it. It was mostly red with blue and white wound into an intricate pattern.

"This must be a good place to raise kids," said Amber.

"Oh, it is," said Rania. "The park right across the road… it's been wonderful. I kind of wish we weren't leaving, but Ken has a job in Rakima now. I can't complain… but I'll really miss this house."

"Our new one is even better," said Ken. "You'll get used to it."

"The kids'll probably get used to it sooner than me. It's all a great adventure to them."

"They're very cute kids," said Connie.

"That they are. We…might have another one coming…."

"Now, sweetheart, we aren't sure about that," said Ken.

"I haven't taken the test yet. But…" Excitement gleamed in her eyes.

"We aren't even sure if we want another one—"

She jabbed him with her elbow. "Just one more."

"At least it's good timing. We'll be long settled in by the time it arrives."

"I suppose that will be better…" Her eyes shadowed.

"So, what's this neighborhood like?" said Jason.

"We feel perfectly safe letting the kids out to run around the block…. We don't let them cross the street except to the park. They're too young yet. And… well. You can never be too careful."

"She worries too much," said Ken. "There's nothing dangerous in Shangri-la."

"This is Zelise…."

"But there's a gate keeping all that out. This is the real Zelise. What it's supposed to be. Beautiful…perfect. Nothing amiss at all."

"So there have never been any…incidents?" said Jason. "Anything stolen…?"

"Well, there was a couple years ago. But that was before—"

"Before what?"

He smiled. "Before our savior. The previous security systems were older, they had some flaws. But when Zame came, they were all smoothed over." He knocked on the wall. "It's like a fortress. In fact, that's what the security system's called. Fort Z. I recommend them highly. I can give you Zamian's business card, if you want."

"Um, sure."

"I think I have one downstairs in the drawer. We didn't pack that yet, dear?"

Rania shook her head. "I don't think so. We were going to throw most of that out…"

"We still want to keep his number in case the systems in Rakima aren't any good. We were assured but… I can't imagine something better than this."

"Where is this company based?"

"Homegrown. He knows what kind of flaws the criminals here can exploit. He made the prototype in his own house. Then gave it to the rest of us. Well, not gave of course."

"Where was he from in the first place?" said Amber.

"I'm not sure. He's a security genius. Our guardian angel. Without him, I might be a bit more worried about letting our kids outside. But we have complete peace of mind here. The rest of Zelise—it might as well not exist. Before the security gate, this wasn't a paradise. Kids used to disappear every once in a while…"

"He created the security gate?" said Ali.

"Makes this whole town a fortress. Keeps all the undesirables out."

"Kids used to disappear?" said Amber.

"Well…just a couple. That we know of."

"There were some rumors…" said Rania.

Ken waved a hand. "Just rumors. Probably shadows of the past. It's the safest place in the country. Look at the statistics. Almost no crime at all."

"What were the rumors?" said Amber.

"Some new people moved in. One or two of their kids disappeared. Then they moved out. None of us knew them…."

"They didn't exactly belong here," said Rania.

"What do you mean?" said Amber.

"Outsiders."

"Like us?"

She shook her head.

"Gypsies," said Ken. "Or some combination."

Connie glanced covertly at Jason. He pursed his lips, sharing her dismay.

"You may not have noticed," said Amber. "But I'm 'some combination'."

"We mean no offense!" said Rania. "I wouldn't have taken you for… I mean, you're clearly…well-bred."

"You may be outsiders for a bit," said Ken. "That'll wear off. If you keep to the code."

"Code?" said Connie.

"Community code. We don't want any trouble. But I don't suppose you'll give any trouble. You look like a decent lot. Even if—"

"If…?" said Ali, looming closer.

"Nothing…"

"You'd better get used to 'outsiders'. There are a lot of them in Rakima. No gates there. In fact, there you'll be the outsider." Ali poked Ken in the chest. Ken reeled back, looking startled and affronted.

Ali laughed. "Maybe I will invest in this place. Don't know if I'd stay here. It's got a vibe I'm not sure I like, despite its ostensible 'paradise'. I would like that card. Maybe I can make Zamian's business take off. I am the electronics guru, after all."

Ali led the way downstairs and Ken dug in the odds-and-ends drawer in the kitchen and fished out the business card. Ali strode out the door with the business card as if it were a trophy.

"It might be safe here," said Amber, out on the sidewalk, the sun burning the humidity into an oppressive heat. "But I get the feeling, even if I'm the right 'type', I would never totally fit in here…"

"Yes, they make exceptions for rich ones," said Ali. "But we can never really blend in. Even if we follow the rules. This place is rather intriguing with its mix of serenity and racism… almost like a throwback to a 1950s sitcom. In technicolor." He laughed. Flipped the business card deftly and handed it to Jason. "This might be the key to the investigation."

"Really?"

"Zamian owns a security company. Anything strange going on around here, he'll know."

Amber called the number on the card, but it went straight to voicemail.

"To be closed in the middle of a business day…" said Ali. "That's odd."

"Let's take a look at the other houses," said Amber. "Maybe he'll be available later."

The other houses were beautiful, pristine… some a little more organized than the first one. Realtors showed them around rooms arranged into perfect showroom pictures. When asked about the disappearances, they shrugged them off completely. "There is nothing wrong here," said one. "It's the perfect community."

"In my experience," said Ali in his jocular manner, "there is no such thing as a perfect community. Scratch the surface and… there's grime beneath the veneer."

"There's no grime here," said the realtor indignantly before leading them out.

"You could be a little less antagonistic," said Amber on the sidewalk after the realtor had left.

"I've learned being polite gets you few real results," said Ali. "I like to get to the heart of things. As a rich guy… I can get away with quite a bit." He flashed a smile.

"But should you."

"Whatever gets results, my dear."

At the next house, Amber asked the owner about Zamian and why he wouldn't be answering his phone.

"I don't know, haven't seen him around for a few days," said the brown-haired, middle-aged man. "And he usually comes to our backyard barbecues. It's strange."

"He's usually in town?" said Amber.

"Well, sometimes he goes on business trips. But he'd let us know. He hasn't been answering his phone…. I hope he's okay."

"What's he look like?"

"Tall, brown hair, well-built. He truly is a pillar of this community."

"Maybe you should call the police, have them check up on him."

The man laughed raucously. "In Zelise?"

"Maybe just go check on him."

"I may do that," he said, looking troubled. "I hope he didn't get in a car wreck or something."

Outside again, Ali said, "You're thinking what I'm thinking?"

"It's an interesting coincidence," said Amber. "This man that's missing happens to fit the rough description of Karl. If he's not Karl… something else is up. And we need to find out. Let's stop at the last house, see if we can find any more clues."

The owner, Jonas, who Ali had contacted, was happy to get an opportunity to move. "There's something…stifling here," he said. "Everyone pretends… but under the surface…. There's a sort of wrongness…I'm not sure what it is, but I'm getting out before it gets me."

"Part of it might be your heritage," said Ali.

"What do you mean."

Ali gestured to the Star of David on his mantelpiece.

"Oh. Right… I don't quite fit into their mold… But I always felt welcome. Mostly." He laughed nervously. Ran his hand through his dark hair. "But I'm getting out. This place is too… perfect." He laughed again.

"Almost as if they've sold their soul for paradise?"

"Maybe so."

"Do you know anything about the Romani family who lived here?" said Amber.

"Yes, yes I did. I helped them move in. They were—so happy. The mother was Romani, the dad was Muldavian… they were such a beautiful family. It's a shame…."

"What happened?"

"Their little boy disappeared. People said he'd probably run away. La-La Land residents looked for him halfheartedly and then… that was it." He shrugged. "Somehow I thought there was more to it than that. I helped them look… without the police there wasn't much else we could do. But…there wasn't a trace. A few days later the whole family was gone."

"Which house was it?"

He gave the address. "I get the feeling there used to be more of this kind of stuff… before what's-his-name moved in."

"Who's that?"

"Mr. Keller. Took over the old mansion a couple years ago. He… I don't know. He's nice enough. Very helpful—goes over and above. Somehow… it doesn't seem sincere. Like… he has an agenda. That's just… the feeling I get. I might be wrong."

Ali lifted a finger. "I have learned never to disregard my intuition. It never leads me astray."

Amber took out her phone with a picture of Karl on it. She showed it to Jonas.

"Yes, that's him. That's Zamian."

The man who'd chased them down…who'd shot Jason. He was here. Somewhere close by. And they weren't trying to run away from him this time.

A chill froze Connie's heart to ice.