Chapter 26: Complications

Allison had mixed feelings about Christine's new schedule. On the one hand she was unhappy that we wouldn't get a ball to work with and that the experiments she had in mind for the evening had to be put off. On the other hand, it meant she got me to herself for the evening, and she planned to take full advantage, going to bed so early my mom even said something about it.

"It was a long day," Allison said. "I'm a little burned out, so I'm going to meet Jimmy in the cabana for some snuggles."

"Okay, give him my love and tell him that if he has time, it would be nice to see him."

"I will," Allison assured her.

Of course, Allison had been going to bed at ten o'clock for years, so going to bed earlier sounded reasonable at eight or nine, not five, so I still had time to work on other things before going to see her.

I had invited Spencer to picnic with me in Freedom Park for dinner. Neither the strangeness of the invitation nor the significance of the location was lost on her.

"What's wrong, David?" She asked as we sat at a table, sharing a Pastrami sandwich and watching a group of children dropping breadcrumbs off of a footbridge to the ducks swimming below.

"I can't tell you yet," I said. "I need a fingerprint run, but if it's what I think it is, it's going to trip every alarm between here and Washington."

"So you think you know who it is, but you're not sure?"

"Yeah," I said with a sigh.

"And if it is who you think it is, then we have a problem? How bad?"

"Scale of one to ten?" I offered.

"Okay," she agreed.

"Nine, maybe nine and a half."

"David, I put 'lives on the line' at around eight. Are you sure it's that bad?"

"It adds credibility to other information I've received," I said.

"What kind of information?" she asked.

The one line back and forth was getting tedious and going nowhere. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the plastic bag with the Queen of Spades inside, holding it face down where she couldn't see which card it was. I wasn't ready to share the note yet, so I'd taken the post-it off and bagged it separately; it was in the safe at the apartment.

"I received this along with some other things early last month. It's taken me this long to reach the point that I'm ready to move forward on it. I need to know if it was really sent by the person who claims to have sent it. They sent this card, packaged – I assume – to protect the fingerprints, along with a note. I have the note at home. I just need to know if the prints belong to who I think they do."

"And who would that be?" she asked taking a sip of her soda.

I flipped the card over and dodged the spray of Dr Pepper coming from her mouth and nose.

"Jesus!" she swore, covering her mouth with a napkin. "Are you telling me the Black Queen contacted you?"

"Sorry," I said, handing her another napkin, "I should have waited until you swallowed."

I paused to take a drink before going on.

"Nicki, I've got a big problem here. I need to know if this is real. If it is, then we have an even bigger problem. I can't use my source, or Rod, for this... ," she started to say something, but I rolled on before she had a chance, " ... and I can't tell you why until I'm sure what I'm dealing with. You came highly recommended as someone I could trust to help verify it."

"Someone recommended you come to me to verify that the prints on this card belong to the Black Queen?"

The fact that she ignored the use of her nickname said a lot. Allison would probably say I was having my usual effect, and she had moved our relationship far enough up her personal scale to allow it. Considering the number – and status – of the only people she allowed to use it in the past ... On the one hand I was irritated that Allison was right again, but at the same time, I couldn't help but feel humbled that I had somehow reached this point. I promised myself that I wouldn't make her – Spencer, that is – regret it later.

"Yeah, she felt you could be trusted."

"Who?"

"The Black Queen."

"What?" She hissed. "You're telling me that The Black Queen sent you information – sensitive, potentially dangerous information – and told you to use me to verify that it was really from her? Are you out of your mind? Why would you trust me on a recommendation like that?"

"Logic," I answered. "She knows that I would doubt any recommendation she made, therefore she wouldn't make a bad one because it would undermine what she's trying to do – which I assume is to gain my trust. She said that you have a reputation for integrity and independence. That that's both the reason you've risen to where you are, and the reason that you aren't likely to be going any higher – because you won't play along with the kind of shit that goes on at the higher levels."

"She said that about me? That's almost scary."

"Not nearly as scary as if she's telling the truth about the rest. She sent two other things. One was a newspaper clipping from Santiago Chile. On October 13^th a high-ranking government official there was assassinated. She wants me to believe it was her that did the hit."

"What?" she asked, incredulously. "Why would she admit something like that?"

"Because that's the same day four agents were murdered and several people were kidnapped from an FBI safe house in Los Angeles. She knows that I would suspect her, and she's telling me it wasn't her. Of course, she's also telling me who the mercenaries were that actually did it, so I have to take her word for the fact that she's not the one that hired them. That's more credit than I'm willing to give her, but I need to confirm whatever I can."

"Right," she said. "I'm not willing to give her credit for either one."

"There may be a way to verify it – some of it anyway – if you have the right contacts, contacts you can trust."

"And what would I be verifying?" She asked.

"She said her Company handler sanctioned the kill." I emphasized "Company" to make sure she got my meaning.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and I could almost hear the muscles in her jaw tightening as she said, "Son of a..."

"There's more, but I need to know if this is real before I'll risk telling you. It's potentially too harmful if we can't verify it. I'm in deep here, Nicki, and I need your help. Can you verify this without tripping alarms from here to Atkins' basement?"

"It might take a while: I'm going to have to process everything myself and work a little magic to get it to the right people. How fast do you need to know?"

"It's not time sensitive as far as I know. I just can't do anything until then. Whenever you can get it to me will be fine."

Even with a month to think about it, I still hesitated before telling her the rest.

"Nicki, this all came from a UPS envelope that Doreen found on her front porch. I ran the tracking number; it wasn't in the system. I think there's a good chance Henslith delivered it in person. I doubt if she stuck around, but there is a chance that she could still be in the area."

"Oh, this just keeps getting better," she said, shaking her head. "Son of a ... I need an ice cream. You buying?"

"Oh gee," I said, rolling my eyes, "let me think..."

We chatted some more as we made our way around the park, then it was time to go see Allison. There are worse ways to end a stressful day than in the arms of someone you love.

"It's a good thing there is an empty room between you and the folks," I said as we lay snuggled together in her bed.

"Why do you think I picked this room?" she pointed out, "and why do you think I bought the little wave radio?"

She had picked up one of those digital clocks that had like twenty different ambient soundtracks that it played. They were originally designed for travelers, so they could have background noises similar to home to help them sleep better. Personally, I don't know how anyone could sleep with some of them. One had a train going by, and another was supposed to be a jungle, but it sounded like the bird section at PetCo, and there's a reason they have that part of the store enclosed in thick glass. How could anyone sleep through that? The waves were nice, though, and it did do a good job of masking the little noises – although Allison still tended to finish with a pillow over her head. She's gotten better at keeping the vocals down, but she can get a little loud when the moment strikes.

"So, between that and the pillow you think we're okay?" I asked.

She sat up a little and gave me a look.

"After everything that's happened, you don't think mom and dad would be kicking the door down if they thought someone was in my room? Yeah, I think we're good. Mom wants to see you, by the way. You really should make it a point to stop in more often."

"I know," I said as she snuggled back into my side.

"Maybe I should have Christine put it on your calendar."

"Sad to admit it," I said, "but that's not really a bad idea. I wonder how she's doing at school?"

"Probably embarrassing the rest of the class. How're things with Amber and Easy?"

"Good. A little hectic with finals next week, but they're okay."

"Finals," she said. "That means winter break is right around the corner. Wow, can you believe it's almost Christmas? This whole year has just flown by. What are the girls going to do? What are you getting them?"

"I have no idea," I admitted.

"I was afraid of that," she said. "You know I wish I'd never brought it up. I mean, I don't even have anyone to shop for, and if I did, I don't know how I'd get gifts to them, and ... What is so funny?"

What was so funny was a thought I'd had while she was talking.

"It just occurred to me that I could play Santa Claus and deliver them."

Her hand flew to her mouth as she started to giggle. "Oh, my God! That is too funny! Can you imagine when people woke up Christmas morning and started opening presents? 'Oh, honey, you shouldn't have.' 'Uh, dear? I didn't.' People would freak out. This could be fun."

"Yeah, I can see them lined up filing for divorce, thinking their spouses were having affairs, and their lovers had actually sent gifts. That could be ugly."

"Well, yeah, of course you'd have to be careful," she said. "No lingerie or jewelry or stuff, but if you don't go overboard..."

"I'm sorry I brought it up," I said. "But at the same time ... Do you have any ideas on what I can get anybody? I haven't even thought about it."

"Well, you have been a little busy, and I'm sure they would understand, but still ... The only thing Lizzy really wants from you is your body, but an engagement ring wouldn't be out of line, and it's something her family will expect since they know you popped the question already. Or do they? All you did was get her dad's permission, right?" I nodded, and she went on. "As for Amber ... Hmm, you know, everybody wants the same thing; Amber, me, mom, we all just want time with you. Mom would kill to have you here for Christmas – as would I – but it would be too risky. It's such an obvious thing, that anyone who wanted a way to get to you could just follow you straight to us – and don't say it; no, you can't just pop in, out of the question."

"No, it's not," I said. "I don't have to pop in here; I could pop in somewhere else, rent a car, and then just show up. I could use the other ID Rod set up."

She thought about it for a second, finally saying, "It sounds good, but I don't know; I'll get back to you on that. And all things considered, I don't think you should count on that ID until we find out what's really going on in LA."

"Good point. I think I'll work on another one. It will be good practice, I can run it by Bart Reston before I use it, just to be sure."

Bart Reston was the Tech wizard that Rod had set me up with to learn how to disappear, and how to recreate myself – or someone else – convincingly.

"So where's Jamie?" Allison continued. "Off doing things you don't want to know about?"

"I don't know; I didn't ask."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Jimmy, are you okay? I mean really okay?"

I rolled so that I could face her and look in her eyes.

"You're worried?"

"A little, yeah," she admitted.

"Good!" I said emphatically. "You don't know how important it is to me that I have people who care enough to worry. But – no matter what I say – Allison, don't take my word for it, okay? Because if I were slipping, if it were getting to me, I think that person would say whatever he had to to convince you that everything was okay. Ask Lizzy, always. Okay?"

She got a half guilty look on her face. The kind you get when you're caught doing something that's not really bad, but maybe a little sneaky.

"Already figured that out, huh? You're such a little smarty-pants! I think someone needs to teach you a lesson."

"Yeah?" She said. "Too bad there's no one here that can handle the job."

I had noticed a couple of scarves on the headboard when I first arrived, so I'd suspected something like this might be coming. Allison would never be like Amber, but – like Christine – she did like to play once in a while. However, while both liked the illusion of being forced, Allison went further. Maybe it was how much Brian had hurt her that made Christine unwilling to trust that far, but even the idea of being tied up took any hint of pleasure out of it for her. Allison, on the other hand ... Even with her panties stuffed into her mouth and a gag tied so she couldn't spit them out, I still had to cover her face with the pillow when the end came. She was still unconscious when I finished untying her, so I just tucked her in, kissed her gently, and went home so I would be there when Christine got home from school. Once I was settled comfortably on the couch, though, I went to the cabana – which is where Allison had ended up when she overloaded – and snuggled her until she came out of it.

"God, I miss this," she sighed languorously as she woke in the big bed next to me and stretched. Then she realized where she was and said, "Wow! It's been a while since that happened. In fact, I don't think it's happened since before Shannon died. Not counting hell night when we got in trouble with Jamie, of course, but you really can't count that."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Give me a break, you can't put that in the same category as anything else. I still get shivers just thinking about it. The good kind," she rushed to say. "I'm not afraid of it anymore because I know it won't ever happen by accident again."

"But it still makes you afraid when you think of what will happen when Elizabeth and I do it?"

"Of you and Lizzy? Yeah, I'm a little afraid of what that might do. You and Lizzy and Jamie; now that scares me."

"It does seem to be getting stronger," I admitted. "That last kiss; the one in the dorm room..."

"Exactly," she said, "and that was just a kiss. Did you ever figure out how much time actually passed?"

"No, we were all completely out of touch with reality. It was ... indescribable. I just don't have the words."

"And how did you feel afterward?" she pressed. I could tell by her voice that she had shifted to analytical mode. "Were you tired at all? What about Jamie?"

"Dazed and confused, but not tired. As for Jamie, you saw what happened..."

"Yeah," she said, "Big sister was in a bad way. Not that that's a bad thing, and I would have been happy to help her take the edge off, but ... So whatever your energy was doing when it was playing with Lizzy's, it wasn't going to waste?"

"Not even," I said. "Kind of makes me wonder what kind of ball we'd make if it worked the same with her as with Christine."

"I'd be more concerned about what a ball like that could do – would do – to whomever it hit."

That got my attention.

"You think it might actually hurt someone?"

"I don't know if it would hurt them – not that it couldn't – but we've already seen that emotional interplay makes a difference. I'm guessing that the manner of its creation makes a difference as well. Now, if one were to manifest in the middle of a fight or something ... that could maybe get ugly, but I don't even know if it's possible."

"I don't want to know if it's possible," I said.

"So what's the plan for tonight?"

"I need to pick Roxy's brain a little."

"Really? What for?" She asked.

"Well, I'm supposed to be finding her, and part of that includes discovering why anyone would want to kidnap her as the church has suggested. So I'm starting out by back-tracing her to her original state. I want to know the names of the people who were trying to adopt her."

"No," she said. "Jimmy, you're not thinking this through. You can't pull information out of the air on this, too many people – bad people – are watching. How far have you gotten?"

"Not far," I admitted. "Child Services won't talk to me without a court order – I've got Rivers working on trying to get me one. The woman did give me the name of the person who originally referred her out here to live with her cousins, though – so that's something. Only problem is that she retired, and the file has been closed and buried in the archives somewhere."

"Okay, so fly back and see them; it will cost more than a phone call, but a personal appearance could make the difference in whether or not they talk to you. When you get there, find out which judge oversees their version of Child Services and go see them. Explain what it is you're trying to do. Go at night if you have to and give them the off-the-record version and get a court order allowing you access to any and all materials relating to her. If Rivers gets you an order from the Vegas court, take it with you and show it to them. It won't help much – because it's out of state – but it will show them that you have the support of the locals, and that may be enough to sway the judge all by itself. What you're looking for should be there, and the fact that you were able to acquire any information at all will impress Bastion's people. So will getting a court order on your own. Either way, it's on their dime, and their time, and they will know you're putting your best effort into it. Besides, it will establish your presence somewhere else if anything unusual happens here."

I didn't have to ask what she meant by that.

"You really are a smarty-pants," I said.

"Does that mean you're going to teach me another lesson?"

"You're too eager," I said. "What was it Shannon used to say about rewarding bad behavior?"

"Shannon believed in a system of positive reinforcement. And if you need to see Roxy I think you should do that thing you were talking about before; pop in, rent a car under another ID, and go see her in person."

"Why in person?" I asked.

"Because I don't trust that things will work the same in dreams with her as with everyone else."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Jimmy, she's special. Special like Lizzy was before you met her. Not the same way, of course, but you've heard Bob: she knows when you're in trouble. She's linked to you somehow, and while I'm sure it has something to do with your energy, I'm not sure that's all of it. I don't want to take the chance of her spotting you in a dream and remembering it in the morning. Besides, Susan would probably appreciate knowing you were okay too."

"Okay. So what do you want for Christmas?" I asked.

"Besides more time with you?" She asked. "I don't know. It's too soon for a car; besides, mom and dad would freak, and there are not that many places I really need a car to get to anyway. Maybe when I finish all the testing and move up to college classes – just so mom and dad don't have to take me and pick me up all the time. I know, how about some surfing lessons? Or maybe Scuba, that would be cool."

"After playing mermaid on the other side, I don't think you would appreciate it as much in real life," I pointed out.

"True enough, but it would still be fun. Meanwhile, if you don't have anything pressing to do, you should go see mom and dad. He wouldn't say anything, but I know he misses you and worries about you too. I've got placement tests coming up in a few days, so I've got some studying to keep me busy." She rolled up and kissed me very thoroughly. "Thanks for coming to spend time with me. I miss you too."

My parents were indeed happy to see me. Fortunately, mom didn't gush too much, and the tears dried quickly. They were both adapting very well to island life. Dad had gotten a job with a local investment firm. His resume was impressive, and even accurate – if you didn't mind the fact that all the contact information routed you to the FBI offices in Honolulu. After reading Henslith's letter, I was glad Rod had turned the cover over to them to maintain rather than using the LA office. In theory, the locals didn't know, or care, who he really was – only that there was a cover to be maintained. Although, I thought, if Rod's office had a mole, there was no guarantee that the Honolulu office wouldn't have one as well. Damn, I was starting to get paranoid. But then, I certainly had a good reason, and in this case it was a good thing. The question was: was I getting paranoid enough? Maybe I needed to make them disappear again – this time with no help from anyone I couldn't personally verify as being trustworthy.

No, not yet. For one thing it would really freak them – especially my mom – out. Not to mention tipping whoever may be watching that I was on to them ... but it couldn't hurt to start laying some ground work...

Mom had gotten a job doing inventory management for one of the large warehouse firms on the island and was already saving them money. The first thing she had done was bust one of their people robbing them blind. She wasn't planning on staying there, though. It had become very quickly apparent that the local industry was seriously behind in the area of inventory tracking and management, so – rather than tie herself down – she was planning to set herself up as a consultant – which would also allow her to work from home much of the time. We had a good visit, and I was more than a little homesick when I left. Maybe Christmas in the islands wasn't such a bad idea after all. I made a mental note to discuss it with Lizzy.

In the background I heard Christine coming into the apartment, so I knew it was time to leave. I kissed my mother, hugged my dad, and promised not to be so long between visits next time.