5/17/15

Winds of Change

Scott nodded absentmindedly, only half listening to Dalton. "Interesting, isn't it?" He clicked through a few items on his computer. "The way things circle back around, I mean."

He had to turn his head to see Dalton with his good eye. "I got attacked in my home by Alec. Now he's on the other end." His gaze fell and he swallowed hard. "Guess maybe it's kinda hard to feel bad for him is all. Misty didn't deserve this but..." He shrugged. "I know it's wrong, but there's part of me that's not at all bothered Alec got a taste of his own medicine."

His focus remained downcast. "I don't like the way it makes me feel, but I guess maybe I'm not as good in the forgiveness department as I thought."


Alec was a little surprised at Sapphire's willingness to help, regardless of Reese's orders. "Thanks. I...appreciate it."

After grabbing an extra chair, he joined Sapphire in her cubicle and set to work on her laptop. It felt a bit strange - not only being here in the Elite office again, but working this closely next to her. At least someone trusted him to a certain degree. He still felt like an outsider though, and he was pretty sure nothing could ever gain him back any sort of position here.

Focusing more on the task at hand, Alec aimed first for a bunch of files that would catch him up on recent cases Misty had been involved in. It couldn't hurt, and he was so far out of the loop, he needed to make a starting point somewhere.

Minutes turned into hours, and Alec's attention rarely diverted from the laptop. He could feel it when others passed by the cubicle, and could sense their questioning eyes, but he wouldn't look up. He didn't need that distraction right now. This was about Misty, and he was going to help find the attackers.

Stretching his arms high, he realized just how stiff he'd become, and his back and shoulders ached. Not to mention, his eyes. He had a notepad full of scribbled memos as he pieced together his own theories, but so far he had no strong leads. Not that he expected to this soon - they'd be lucky if they could trace the men inside of a month.

Needing to move his legs, he left the cubicle without saying anything, but was back within a few minutes. He came up behind Sapphire and reached down over her shoulder, setting a can of Mountain Dew in front of her before he silently sat down again with his own can. It wasn't all that long ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about anybody doing anything for him. But now...now he knew that Sapphire didn't have to let him sit here - she could have set him up in some corner somewhere that he wouldn't bother anyone. But she hadn't, and he genuinely appreciated it.

He took a long swallow of pop and stared at the computer screen once more. Nothing was adding up, and it was already getting frustrating. But his eyes moved to his notepad. Sector Seven. He'd jotted that down earlier, then had dismissed it, but it continued to haunt him. He traced over it with his pen again. And for a moment, he questioned what he'd be willing to sacrifice to solve this case. But he already knew. Misty was family, and he'd give his life if he needed to.


“Okay, okay, it’s fine.” JT held up his hands in quick surrender, not wanting to upset Misty any more. “I just said I would ask, that’s all. I won’t let anyone in here you don’t want to see.” He’d hold to that promise. No matter his opinion of the whole situation, his job here was to make sure Misty recovered, and having her continually upset by Carson was not going to help. 

“I’ll see you again later. Try to rest.” JT headed out into the hall, and immediately aimed for the waiting room where Carson had seemingly taken up residence. 

Seeing JT again, Carson straightened in his seat, ready to get up, but JT waved him down. Carson’s shoulders dropped. Again. “She said no?”

JT nodded as he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Look, I don’t know all the details, but what I do know is that the mere sound of our name is upsetting to Misty. I’m sorry. I know you’re just worried and you care, but as her doctor, I can’t keep asking her if she’ll see you. It would probably be better if you went home.” 

Carson’s eyes fell. He didn’t even have the strength to argue. 

“She’ll be fine,” JT assured. “It’s going to take time, but I’m predicting a full recovery. You don’t need to worry.”

“But I just…want to see her.”

JT’s eyes showed compassion, and his tone softened. “I know. But if you really want to do what’s best for her, then you need to create some distance, okay?”

Carson nodded slowly. “Okay.” He’d try not to ask again. But he wasn’t ready to leave just yet.


Garret knew well enough to let the subject of him and Victoria drop. The more they spoke aloud their feelings, the more they risked. So instead, he simply nodded at her question. “I will. I’ll be on duty as usual, but I’ve made it so I’ll be nearby.” 

He dared give Victoria a sidelong glance with what might possibly be considered a hint of a smile – but that’s as far as it went. Yes, he’d intentionally lined up watchmen, placing himself in the center room for the sole reason of being able to be around Victoria, if only to see her from a distance. “See you later.” 

For now…he needed to finish this task, get cleaned up, then see to Medridge as he’d been summoned earlier…


“…Sonya Hashamita.” Medridge tossed a bulging folder onto his desk. 

Garret, dressed smartly for that night’s banquet, remained standing in the center of the office. “Yes, sir?”

“You have visited her off an on for two years now, have you not?”

“I have.” Sonya was one on a short list of woman to whom Garret was assigned to…retrieve information. And generally that meant a weekend stay with said women – long enough to get them to talk without scaring them off. 

“Then why have you yet to discover where her superior’s warehouses are located?” 

Garret’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he dared not reveal irritation. “Her tongue is not easily loosened. It took a long time to gain her trust.” 

“Time…time is what I detest the most.” Medridge took his cane and wandered to the grand map on the wall. “In two week’s time, you’re going to Miss Hashamita again. And you will access the information I desire, by whatever means it takes.”

Garret inwardly cringed. “Yes, sir.” 

“And when you’re through, you will destroy all evidence.” 

Garret knew exactly what that meant…and it meant just how it sounded. This would be his last visit to Sonya. And it would be Sonya’s last day. “Yes, sir...”

…It wasn’t much later, and Garret, though still and always on duty, had been allowed a short reprieve amidst the guests – more of a privilege than anyone knew, as he was honored by Medridge himself to dance with his granddaughter – a rare occurrence. It was hard not to hold Victoria closer – to caress her face and lean in to the sweet smell of her perfume. But with one hand in hers and one on her waist, it was more than he usually got, and it had to be enough. 

His smile had to be kept professional, as there were many eyes in the room tonight, but his lips curled slightly to prove he enjoyed this brief moment with the most beautiful woman in the room. Yet his eyes…the darkness had grown, and was threatening to snuff out the spark. 

“I’m being sent out in a couple weeks again.” He kept his voice low, as his body language portrayed nothing but a man enjoying the evening. His grip on her hand tightened just a little. “If…anything should ever happen to me…should ever our parting be our last…” 

The music fading away forced him to stop and clap. He had only moments before Victoria would be traded off to the guest of honor for the next dance. “Just remember I love you,” he whispered. “Even if thousands of miles separate us…my feelings will never change.”


“Well, I wish I had an answer.” Mick leaned against the corral fence, his eyes on two new horses Sparky and Dylan had picked up at an auction the week prior.

“Me too.” Eric shrugged and picked at a sliver on the fence rail. Morning chores were done and there was plenty of other work to do, but instead, he’d found himself out here. “Just wish I knew if it was something I did. Or maybe I’m just moving too fast. Am I?”

Mick gave him half a grin. “You and Stacy are none of my business, but I don’t think so. And last I could tell, Ashlee adored you.”

“I’ve been home three days and only have three more before I’m gone for a month, but I’ve hardly seen a smile out of her. She won’t do anything but give me one-word answers and shrugs. She won’t even ride with me. And Stacy apparently doesn’t know what’s wrong either. I just…”

Mick cocked his head. “You just what?”

“I dunno. I feel silly it bothers me this much, but if we’re wrong and Ashlee really doesn’t want me dating her mom anymore, then I’ve got a real issue. I won’t go any further if I’m just gonna cause trouble.” 

“I understand and I’d feel the same – it’s not silly. But you might just have to let whatever it is work its way out of her system. Who knows? She’s a teenager – it could just be crazy hormones and she might not even realize she’s acting strangely.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Eric sighed, trying to get his mind on something else, and gestured to the two young mares. “So these the newest residents?”

“Mm-hmm. Half-sisters according to the previous owners. I’d say they’ve got Thoroughbred in them, looking at their build. What do you think?”

“Agreed.”

“Someone said they both had some good speed under them.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Mick nodded, still looking at the mares. “It’d be a shame to turn around and sell them without finding out.”

Eric gave his brother-in-law a sidelong glance. “Don’t even think about it, old man.”

Mick chuckled. “Who are you calling old? Besides, you and I both still got it.”

“Oh, sure.” Eric hadn’t gone any faster on a horse than a gentle canter - maybe a slow gallop - since his accident so many years ago. Besides, Static was a great horse, but he wasn’t a racer. “You put me in an English saddle again, I’d prolly fall off after three strides.” 

“Nah…I think you’d be surprised. I mean…that is…if you’ve got the guts.” 

“Guts?!” Eric turned to look Mick square in the face. “It ain’t got nothing to do with guts. It’s got all to do with this body of mine that could fall apart just by looking at how hard that ground is. Been there done that, and I was in my prime.” 

“And your point is…?” Mick’s eyes wandered back to the mares. “They look like they could be a lot of fun.”

“No.”

“Just once.”

“Nu-uh.”

“What else you gonna do but sit around and mope?”

“Rosetta would kill you if she knew you wanted to go out for a  joyride. Your bones are just as brittle as mine.”

Mick’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “So she won’t know. And neither will Stacy ‘cause she’d prolly kill you, too.”

“And don’t forget about Angel – you know she wouldn’t like me doing that sort of thing with this leg of mine.”

“Oh sure, sure. You’re right. We shouldn’t do it…”


“…What on earth are we doing?”

“Three laps.” Mick adjusted his weight in the English saddle.

Eric shook his head as he tightened his reins on the anxious mare. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Mick grinned and nodded to the open field in front of them. “Three times around.”

“And the winner?”

“We’ll figure that out later.”

“What about the pile of brush at the other end?”

“Better go over it, or I’m adding ten seconds to your time.”

Eric’s mouth twitched. “Ready?” He rose just slightly out of the saddle.

“Set.” Mick pulled his hat down harder on his head.

“Go!” 

At the barn, Dylan stopped his work with the pitchfork to look out the open back door. Seriously? Was that really his dad and Eric on those two new horses? Racing around the field? Yep. And they were going fast. Really fast. Dylan had seen them warming up in the corral a few minutes ago, but had just thought they were giving the horses some light exercise. Apparently it was more than that.

Eric leaned low over his mount’s neck, feeling her mane whip his face as the wind rushed past his ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mick running neck and neck with him. As the pile of brush came up, both men urged their horses on, and up and over they went. Mick’s cowboy hat went flying, but it was ignored. The horses raced on down the long stretch, around the corner, back to the start and on to the second lap.

Dylan’s pause at the door caused some of the others to stop their work as well, wondering what he was looking at. Jeff came up beside him, his eyebrows raised high. “Really?”

Dylan didn’t take his eyes off the field. “Uh-huh.”

It was Sparky’s voice next. “What are those two numbskulls doing? They’re gonna break their necks.”

Jeff smirked. “At least they’ll go out happy.”

This kind of racing was almost always frowned upon if not banned completely, but there they were, taking the horses out to prove nothing other than the fact they were still alive.

And they did feel alive.

All Eric would hear was the wind and pounding hooves. The hard leather reins felt so natural in his hands, as if just yesterday he’d been on the racetrack. His eyes were barely slits as he focused on their route before pulling back, shifting left and driving ahead again. He’d just pulled to the inside to skirt past Mick on the far turn.

Mick was smiling, though still very focused as Eric sidled past. His mount had more in her though, but he held her just behind Eric, saving that last ounce of energy for the home stretch. Mick had ridden fast many times in the last few years, but it had been a very long time since he’d pushed this hard for the fun of it, and he hadn’t done it with Eric since their track days. There was something surreal about it. Something precious. Something he didn’t want to give up. Not yet. 

As Dylan watched the two riders, perhaps he wasn’t even aware of the quiet pride gently pushing forth deep in his soul. That was his dad out there. He’d heard sotries of their younger days and racing, but seeing it was something different. His dad was a good rider. Real good. And it was more than obvious in this moment. Not only that, but it looked like he was having fun. Dylan rarely saw his dad let loose and have fun, let alone in the saddle, so this…this was a new experience.

The horses raced on, up and over the pile of brush for the third time, and down towards the home stretch. Mick pushed his mount hard as he pulled up beside Eric once again. Nose to nose they ran, both horses straining to win. As they approached their original starting point, neither slowed. Only after shooting out the gate did both men stand tall in their saddles to pull back hard and rein in the horses. They slowed to a much gentler gait and circled a few times before gradually bringing the horses down to a trot then a walk. The riders were possibly just as winded as the horses, which made their laughter even funnier.

“Who won?” Mick asked between gasps for air.

Eric shook his head and leaned on his horses’ neck. “I…have no idea.”

“Aw great… We’ll have to do it again.”

They both continued laughing.

“Least you didn’t fall off,” Mick pointed out. “You can say what you want, but you still got it.” 

Eric shrugged off the compliment. “Yeah, well…I did keep my hat. You gotta go find yours.”

Mick grinned and rolled his eyes. “The walk will help this girl cool off.” As he turned to head back to the field, Eric came up alongside him. 

“I’ll help. Wouldn’t want you getting lost.” 

It didn’t take them long to find Mick’s hat, and by then, the horses had their breath back…as did Mick and Eric. 

“I’m not gonna be able to walk for a week,” Eric muttered under his breath as they rode back to the barn.

Mick snickered. “Better hide it. Wouldn’t want the ladies to make fun of you.” 

Finally back at the barn, both came to a stop and slid off their horses only to find more than one person staring at them. Neither realized just what a spectacle they’d made of themselves.