The Days We Break: Chapter Two
~NCIS~
Monday
The downtown library was surrounded by mostly abandoned dilapidated buildings situated in a rundown part of town. The outside of the building was done in the neoclassical style the inside was more modern with the stacks taking up most of the first and second floor. The computer lab was tucked away in a corner on the second floor. It housed twelve computers, in all and they were all in high demand. There was an extensive waitlist, and Tim would run upstairs before his tutoring session to put his name on the list so that by time he was done with his schooling a computer was usually available for him.
The key word there was usually, Tim thought to himself as he waited in the hard plastic chairs for his number to pop up on the small red digital screen above the computer lab door. Looking down at his watch, Tim saw he only had twenty minutes until Jackson would be expecting him downstairs. Nerves caused his leg to bounce in place as the seconds went by; he needed to get to a computer.
Finally seeing his number pop up, Tim quickly went in and sat down. At least this time he was not completely ignorant, thanks to that tutorial he had listened to last week. He could at least get on the internet without struggling too much. Glancing at the time displayed in the corner of the computer screen, he saw that now, he had only fifteen minutes. Muttering under his breath in frustration, Tim typed his mother’s name into the search engine.
He quickly became overwhelmed with the amount of information that came up. There were over 600,000 results. He never realized how common the name Catherine McGee was until now. Mostly, there were listings for information services that he had to become a member of in order to get anything other than a name and a state. Even if he had any money, they only took credit cards, which he didn’t have access to. Sitting back in disappointment and misery, Tim wasn’t sure what else to do. He needed to find his mom. He needed to know how she was doing. Tim gave up his spot to the next waiting patron. He only had five minutes to get downstairs. He also needed come up with a new plan.
Not wanting to wait for the elevator, Tim took the stairs and jogged across the lobby. Outside, the weather was much kinder than it had been on Friday. Instead of rain, Tim was greeted by sunshine, although there was a stiff icy breeze that reminded the hurried library patrons that they were in the middle of a cold snap.
Spying a row of benches next to the curb, Tim managed to find an empty one at the end, where he sat down, took his backpack off, and placed it at his feet but kept one hand on it. He had personal knowledge of how easy it was to free someone of their personal belongings when they weren’t paying attention.
Tim needed to find his mom before Gibbs did. The older man had never spoken directly to him about trying to find his mother, but it only made sense. Gibbs would want to make sure that Liam couldn’t hurt him anymore. So he had concluded that his father would try to find him. Although he tried to hide it, Tim knew Gibbs was not a huge fan of his mom either, so undoubtedly he was looking for her as well. Tim knew if he could just see his mom, he could convince her to come with him and maybe explain to Gibbs that this whole thing had been a misunderstanding. That she had never meant to leave him. Tim had thought about it, and he had come to the conclusion that Liam must have forced his mother to leave him because there was no way his mom, who loved him, would voluntary do so. Once his mother saw him again, she would want to stay with him. He just needed to find her and get her away from Liam, but he was at a loss now as to how he was going to do that.
As his thoughts started to circle in on themselves, Tim felt his anxiety begin to rise up in him; it caused his chest to tighten and his leg to bounce in time to his rapidly increasing heartbeat. He could feel a panic attack tickling at the edge of his consciousness. He didn’t need to lose it out here in public, but the more he tried to calm down, the worse the panicky feeling became.
“So what’s got your undies in a twist this time?”
The harshly worded question that seemingly came out of nowhere caused Tim to startle and whip around to look behind him. It was the teen from the other day. He was smoking a cigarette and leaning nonchalantly against the oak tree. Tim turned back around without answering the sarcastic question; he didn’t want anyone to see him like this, not even a stranger. His breathing started to increase as fear and panic began to seep into his mind and freeze his thoughts. He felt cold and yet he could feel himself start to sweat.
“Oh shit … Are you okay?” came the voice again, only this time it was full of concern. The teen sat next to him and placed a hand on his back and said, “Hey kid, I need you to slow down your breathing or you’re going to pass out. Take a deep breath and slowly let it out.”
Tim tried, but his breathing was out of control. He squeezed his eyes shut and started rocking in place.
“Hey … hey … kid, I need you to look at me.”
The teen’s voice sounded muffled and far away, but Tim latched onto it in desperation. Prying his eyes open, he met the other boy’s concerned gaze.
“That’s it. Now follow me, take in a deep breath, one … two … three … hold it. Now let it out, one… two … three …”
Tim tried his best to follow the teen’s softly worded instructions, and slowly but surely he felt his lungs fill with the much needed oxygen and then release the carbon dioxide.
The teen’s hand awkwardly patted his back. “That’s it kid. Keep breathing.”
Sitting up a bit straighter, Tim wheezed out, “Tim.”
The older boy leaned closer, “What?”
“My name is Tim, not kid,” he said. His voice still sounded rough, but his breathing was a lot better.
The teen’s mouth quirked at the corner as he said, “Sure, kid, whatever you say.”
Noting the special emphasis on the word kid, Tim scowled, but let it go knowing the other boy was just trying to get a rise out of him. Tim turned towards the street keeping an eye out for Jackson. His anxiety was still there but it was muted; it no longer felt like it was going to overwhelm him. They sat in silence a few more minutes, before Tim glanced over and saw the other boy take a drag off the cigarette still in his hand.
“So what’s your name?” Tim asked with a hint of challenge in his voice. He was half betting the teen wouldn’t answer out of sheer orneriness.
The older boy turned towards him and raised one eyebrow at his tone before taking a final drag off his cigarette, throwing what was left on the sidewalk, and smashing it under his sneaker.
He said, “… Jude.”
Tim had heard the hesitation, so he wondered if the teen’s name was really Jude, but he didn’t want to pry, so he just nodded. “Do you go to school around here?”
Jude laughed without joy before he answered, “No, I left school awhile ago.”
Tim squinted at him. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Jude stated bluntly, defiantly.
Tim figured he was probably sixteen at most. He wondered why Jude would lie about his age. With a tiny, almost indistinguishable shake of his head, Tim stopped himself from asking anymore questions. It was really none of his business.
“So what made you go all wheezy a few minutes ago?” Jude asked mockingly
Tim bristled at the question he felt like the older boy was making fun of him, so he replied harshly, “Why do you care?’
Jude stood up abruptly, his face grim, before he spat out, “Suit yourself.”
Regretting his harsh words and realizing he had hurt the other boy’s feelings, Tim snagged Jude’s sleeve as he passed him. “Hey, wait …”
Jude jerked his arm away but he did stop, which gave Tim the courage to continue, “I’m sorry, okay? It’s been a rough day.”
He looked unsure, so Tim pressed on, “Please.” Tim didn’t know exactly why it was so important that Jude not leave. Maybe it was because he was the first person even close to his own age to give him the time of day, considering the kids at his school still gave him the cold shoulder. Or maybe it was the fact that Jude had helped him three times in the last couple of days, or maybe it was the fact that Tim had no idea what to do next. Whatever the reason, Tim just really needed him to stay.
He was relieved when Jude sat back down, although he had his arms crossed as he stared off into the distance like he didn’t care one way or another. Tim took in a deep breath and said, “I have been trying to find information about my mom on the computer, but it’s not going well.”
At the admission, Jude’s posture relaxed just a little bit and he turned towards Tim. “So I take it you don’t live with your mom.”
Tim didn’t want to get into the whole sordid story, so he answered vaguely, “No, I have been living with my dad for the past month. My mom … travels and doesn’t have a cell phone and …” His voice trailed off at the look Jude was giving him. Tim could tell the other boy didn’t believe him at all.
“Sure, kid,” Jude said knowingly. “She left, didn’t she?”
Bristling, Tim wanted to go on the defensive at his abrupt question, but Jude’s tone was one of understanding. Glancing at the teen, Tim caught a fleeting sadness cross the other boys face before it was covered up by the smirk that seemed to be Jude’s default expression.
Tim answered with sadness, “Yes.” Tears threatened to fall, but he willed them back as he hurried on, “But she is going to come back for me. I just have to find her and convince her to leave her boyfriend. I know Gibbs … that’s my dad … will help her get clean, and then we can be together again. Heck, maybe she could get an apartment nearby.” Tim’s voice had strengthened and picked up speed as he had gone along.
Jude just looked at him. Tim scowled back when he saw something akin to pity in his eyes. He held up his hands, although whether he was trying to placate Tim or telling him to stop talking, Tim wasn’t sure. “Okay, one thing at a time. You have no way to get a hold of her?”
“No,” Tim said sullenly, running his hand over his hair. His fingers getting caught in a few tangles caused by the wind; his hair had grown out a bit in the past couple of weeks. Usually by this time, his mom would have shaved it again, but Gibbs was giving him leeway with it, so Tim was enjoying letting it grow out.
“Hm, that is a bit of a pickle. Give me a minute to think about it,” Jude said.
They sat there for a few minutes, Jude staring off into the distance and Tim glancing between him and the street to look for a yellow pickup truck.
Finally, Jude gave a deep sigh causing Tim to turn towards him. “Okay, look my family’s living situation has been a tad fluid in the past.”
Tim nodded his understanding. He was very familiar with moving around.
“But no matter how much we moved around, no matter how much we travelled, there was one or two places we revisited and a couple of people we kept in contact with. Is there any place like that you and your mom visited?”
Tim tried to think hard about it; they had moved around so much. Liam wasn’t the best at keeping friends, and he and his mom owed a lot of people a lot of money. So they were usually more concerned about avoiding people they knew rather than seeking them out.
All the sudden, it hit Tim: Sal. His mom and Liam always checked in with Sal when they passed through Pittsburgh.
“Yeah, there was one guy that for some reason my mom and Liam checked in with whenever we were in town.” Tim explained in a rush all the salient details of Sal and his car repair business in the heart of midtown Pittsburgh.
At this, Jude actually smiled and said, “Great. So what you do is write your mom a letter telling her you wish to see her and you send it to this Sal guy. Eventually maybe your mom will get it. It is not a hundred percent guarantee, but at least it is something.”
Tim sat up a bit straighter, buoyed by the idea that they may have hit on a way to reach his mom before he thought of a snag in their plan. “I don’t remember the address, and Pittsburgh is a big place.”
“Do you remember the name of the business?”
“Yes, but that’s about it. It was called Uncle Sal’s Car Repair.”
“We could look it up at the computer lab.” Jude said before asking, “Are you going to be here tomorrow?”
“No, but I’ll be back on Wednesday,” Tim said eagerly. It sounded like Jude’s idea might help him. Since he couldn’t talk to Gibbs or Jackson about it, he needed all the help he could get. “I’ll write the letter and bring it with me then.”
“Okay. Don’t forget about an envelope and stamp. I’ll see if I can find the address tomorrow, when I am using the computer,” Jude said.
“Will you be here on Wednesday?” Tim asked, wondering why Jude was always hanging around the library.
“Oh yeah, I am always around here somewhere. Don’t worry. I’ll find you,” Jude reassured him. The teen then wrapped his arms around his torso; the wind had picked up in the last few minutes.
Tim noticed he was still just wearing a long sleeve shirt with a jean jacket over it and jeans, which were nowhere near warm enough in the middle of November. Tim opened his mouth to express his concern when Jude stood up abruptly. He stared down the street; his voice was tense, “I have to get back to w…I have to go.”
Tim looked down the street to see what had shaken him. There was a strip mall that housed a liquor store, a comic book store, which Tim really wanted to visit, and a couple of vacant store fronts. There was also a blue SUV idling at the corner. Maybe that was Jude’s folks, although from what Tim remembered, it had been a white Honda last week. His parents probably had two cars.
Tim was going to ask, but just then Jackson pulled up in his truck and honked the horn. He turned back to thank Jude and say goodbye, but the teen was already halfway down the block and heading towards the SUV.
Tim watched him walk away, hoping that the older boy was speaking the truth about helping him. He could use a friend and he hoped Jude could be one.
~NCIS~
Wednesday
“Hey kid!”
Tim swung around squinting against the glare of the sun; he grinned when he saw Jude coming towards him in a half jog, half walk. Tim met him halfway down the stairs; he had just finished with tutoring for the day and was relieved that the teen was already here.
“You got it?” Jude asked, slightly out of breath as he leaned against the brass handrail that ran along the stairs in front of the library.
Digging into his backpack, Tim withdrew the letter and showed it to the other boy proudly. He had spent most of his free time over the last couple of days trying to decide what to write. Tim had started and discarded over a dozen letters. He had tossed them into his bedroom wastepaper basket but had become paranoid that Gibbs would find them and realize what he was up to and try to stop him. So he got rid of them in the garbage can outside. In the end he tried to keep the letter simple, and just told his mom what had happened to him since she had left with Liam. Although he had skipped over most of his journey to Jackson’s because he didn’t want her to feel bad. Instead, he had focused on how much he missed her. Then he had tried to describe the life they could have here in D.C. together if she came back: he tried to make that part seem as enticing as possible.
The letter was already sealed and ready to go. He had borrowed a stamp and envelope from Jackson; he had come up with an excuse about a school project. His grandfathers ready acceptance of his lie had made him feel really guilty. Tim knew it was wrong and he had wanted to confide in the older man, as he was actually starting to think of him as his grandfather. But once again he was afraid that they would stop him from finding his mom.
Jude dug in his pocket a produced a wadded up post-it note. Leading Tim to a bench, he handed it over.
“Wow you found it! Thank you!” A wide smile spread across Tim’s face; Jude beamed back him in a rare smile. Sitting down, Tim quickly wrote the address of Uncle Sal’s garage on the envelope and then Gibbs’ address on the top left corner.
“How long till your ride gets here?” Jude asked.
“My grandpa should be here in a half an hour,” Tim responded distractedly as he finished up writing.
“There’s a post office box down the block and around the corner. We can drop it off there and be back in time. No problem,” Jude stated as he stood up.
Tim felt a bit uneasy with that plan. Gibbs had been very clear about the fact he was not to leave the library grounds. Tim had even promised. He already felt bad enough about lying. He didn’t really want to start outright defying Gibbs. He was pretty sure that Gibbs wouldn’t get violent with him, but he wasn’t sure what he would do so Tim was trying to stay on his best behavior.
Looking down at the letter in his hand and all it represented, Tim made his decision. This was the only idea they had come up with to find his mother. He had to send it off as soon as possible, so he said, “Okay.”
Following Jude across the street, Tim asked, “Do you live around here?”
Jude shoved his hand into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette, putting it into his mouth, and lighting it with a cheap looking lighter. Tim was starting to wonder if he was going to answer when Jude finally spoke up, a defensive tone to his voice. “I live at the Sunshine motel down the street.”
Tim remembered passing by the motel. It was vaguely familiar in the way it looked like every rundown seedy motel he and his mom had ever lived at. Places like that were cheap and no one asked any questions which was always a bonus as far as Liam and his mom were concerned. Looking over at Jude, he couldn’t help but notice the teen’s cheeks were red as though he was embarrassed so Tim tried to commiserate with him. “Let me guess, the hot water barely works and the carpet is a matted down shag from the seventies.”
Tim was glad to see the other teen nod his head and finally glance his way. He even smiled slightly. “Yeah, the carpet is a mix between puke green and mustard yellow.” He looked over at Tim with a raised eyebrow. “So you have experience with such lovely establishments?”
“I grew up in places like that. No matter what part of the country we moved to, the motels all were the same,” Tim said sympathetically.
“Yes, because you are so old now,” Jude stated with amusement. Tim gave him a good-natured shove. The older teen barely moved but had a pleased smile on his face, and soon they were swapping stories about the various crappy motels they had stayed at.
Once they reached the post office, Tim shoved the letter through the mail slot. He felt as though a weight had been lifted. He knew it was a long shot, but he was at least maybe a step closer to seeing his mom again.
“So what’s up with you calling your father by his last name?” Jude asked as they walked back to library. Tim ignored the question. He didn’t want to get into it just yet. They were one block away from the library, but Tim couldn’t help but pause in front of the comics book store. A neon colored flyer caught Tim’s eye; apparently, this weekend there was going to be a sale on comics, plus games and prizes for just visiting. Tim wondered if he could get a ride back down here. “What superhero is your favorite?”
Jude seemed to think about it for a minute. Then he almost seemed embarrassed when he answered, “I’ve always liked Superman.”
“Why?”
Jude rubbed his hand against the back of his neck and muttered, “I know he’s not the cool one nowadays, but he always tries to do the right thing. And he’s stupidly noble. He gets knocked down but keeps getting back up.”
“That’s cool. I’ve always liked Batman …” Tim started to say before he looked down the street towards the library. “Damn it!”
Jude looked down the street as well. “Is that your grandfather?”
“Yes,” Tim said, feeling the familiar sense of panic start to bubble up within him.
Jackson’s truck was parked in front of the library and the older man was on the sidewalk. Tim’s heartbeat was speeding up. He knew in his heart of hearts Jackson wouldn’t hurt him, but he couldn’t help a lifetime of learned response.
Tim took a couple of deep breaths and started to walk back towards the library. Jude grabbed his arm. “Are you going to be okay?” Concern softened his voice.
Tim could tell the older teen was worried. Smiling up at him, he tried to put him at ease. “Yeah, my grandfather wouldn’t hurt me. I just didn’t want to disappoint him and now I have.”
Jude’s blue eyes held his for a moment to gauge his truthfulness. He must have seen enough because he let go and said, “Okay.”
“You want to meet him?” Tim asked. Considering Jude was the closest thing he had for a friend, he wanted him to meet Jackson.
“No thank you. Family really isn’t my thing,” Jude said as he took a few steps back. He looked a little bit spooked.
“Sure, okay,” Tim said a bit disappointed, but he understood. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” Jude turned away.
“I’ll see you later?” Tim asked, hating how desperate he sounded but needing the reassurance.
Jude half turned back towards him and with a smirk said, “Sure, kid, see you later,” before he continued walking back towards the motel.
Tim quickly crossed the street and jogged up to Jackson. When Jackson noticed him, Tim could see the concern melt off his face replaced with a relieved grin. Tim gave him a weak smile. His guilt sat like a rock in his stomach. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
Jackson placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ready to go?”
Tim was surprised when he wasn’t questioned, so he blurted out, “I’m sorry. I was off property.”
Jackson said kindly, “I know. Let’s go home and fix dinner. We’ll talk it over.”
“Okay,” Tim said relieved that his grandfather wasn’t going to give him a hard time, and climbed into the truck. He knew he was still going to have to face Gibbs, but he was glad he was off the hook for now. He asked Jackson about his day. Listening intently, he responded in kind when the question was returned.
~NCIS~
“Hey, boss, wait up.”
Gibbs pulled up short as he was about to enter the elevator. He was in a hurry. They had wrapped up the Gonzalez case just in time for a long weekend over Thanksgiving break. He had been fearful that they would have to work through the holiday. Gibbs hadn’t wanted to miss the first holiday since he had found out he was a father again. So as soon as he had finished his paperwork, Gibbs had gathered his stuff and headed out, hoping to catch Jackson and Tim before they went to sleep for the evening.
Seeing Tony jog towards him, Gibbs proceeded into the elevator and held the doors for his second-in-command. “What’s up, DiNozzo?”
Tony opened the folder in his hand, “We were contacted by Nashville P.D. Liam Thomas’ fingerprints were found at a crime scene.”
Gibbs paused the elevator and eagerly took the file from DiNozzo.
Pointing to the first picture, Tony continued. “One Henry Donnelly was found dead in a bathroom of a no tell motel in the seedier section of Nashville. The coroner ruled that Mr. Donnelly’s death was from natural causes. Apparently, ol’ Henry heart problems. The room was rented by Liam Thomas. The clerk at the front desk remembered a tiny blonde woman smoking a cigarette outside who matches Catherine McGee’s description.”
Gibbs looked through the file. “They have probably left town by now.”
“More than likely, but wait, there’s more,” Tony said with more than a bit of exuberance in his voice. At the look that Gibbs shot him, Tony toned it down quickly and continued, “Henry Donnelly was an enforcer for the mob out of Chicago. Rumor has it he skipped town with quite a bit of the boss’ money. The boss, Robert Shea, has recently taken over from his father, Miles Shea, who passed away under suspicious circumstances. Now Robert is trying to shore up his hold on Chicago. He has also been looking for his wayward hit man for the last couple of days, but with Donnelly’s death, he will have to look elsewhere for his money, as none was found in the hotel room.”
Gibbs just shook his head. The news sent a chill through him. “He is going to be looking for Catherine and Liam Thomas.”
Tony agreed. “We have to find them first, or else they will more than likely end up in a shallow grave.”
“With that much money, they may start spending it impetuously, which will make them more visible. We have to find them before Shea does.”
“Yes, Boss.” Tony agreed.
Gibbs pushed the button and the elevator started up again. When it reached the ground floor, he said, “Reissue the APB’s, add the pertinent information.” The doors opened and Gibbs stepped out. “I’ll see you at Ducky’s tomorrow?”
“Yep, can’t wait. Ducky cooks a mean turkey. I am picking up Abby and Jimmy and then we will be there around one,” Tony said as the doors slid close.
~NCIS~
Trying not to make any noise in the darkened house, Gibbs quietly shut the front door. He was disappointed that although he had tried his best, he didn’t end up making it in time to spend the evening with Tim and his father. This was the second time in the last few weeks that Gibbs had been away from the house for days on a case. He had to find a way to balance work and his newfound home life.
He walked into the kitchen and then opened the refrigerator and grabbed the covered plate that Jackson had set aside for him. It looked like his father had made his famous meatloaf, which was one of Gibbs’ favorite. Gibbs put his stuff away while his dinner warmed up in the microwave. Stopping the timer before the loud beep could go off, Gibbs sat down to eat. He was about halfway done when he heard a light tread on the stairs. He was pleasantly surprised to see Tim round the corner; he was in his pj’s and had with an ever present book in his hands.
Seeing him hesitate, Gibbs waved him in.
“Hey Tim,” Gibbs said softly as his son sat down across from him.
“Hey,” Tim parroted back, giving a faint smile.
Watching as Tim slowly traced the letters on the front cover of his book, Gibbs couldn’t help but think he had something on his mind. As the silence stretched on, Gibbs took a few more bites and then decided he would start, “So what are you reading now?”
“Journey to the Center of the Earth,” Tim answered, holding up the book for Gibbs’ inspection.
“Another one of Tony’s?” Gibbs said a bit surprised. He had never really thought of his second-in-command as a reader. The only form of entertainment Tony ever talked about was movies.
Tim’s eyes lit up as they always did when he talked about books, “Yeah, I really liked 20,000 Leagues so much that he recommended another Jules Verne book. He dropped it off yesterday. So far, it’s good.”
“So what’s wrong?” Gibbs asked softly.
Tim looked down, gave a deep shuttering sigh, and said, “I messed up.”
Gibbs could see that Tim’s hands shook just a bit, and so he made sure to keep his voice soft when he asked, “How?” Tim was still pretty mum about his past, but he had a feeling Catherine and Liam hadn’t been very forgiving when it came to childhood mistakes.
Tim finally looked up and met his gaze. His voice trembled when he said, “I know you told me not to leave the library until Jackson comes to pick me up, but today I went to … the comic book store down the street.”
Gibbs sat back a bit; he had said that. Tim was still too young to be wandering around by himself. On the other hand, Gibbs understood the temptation that a comic book store could have on a young boy. He could see himself being unable to resist the lure of superheroes and supervillains at Tim’s age. But something was pinging his radar, something that Tim was holding back. He knew they had built up some faith, but there were large gaps where Tim still didn’t trust him. He was afraid to push for fear of them going back to square one.
Tim shifted in his seat once again, and Gibbs let him off the hook. “I understand why you would want to go, but all you had to do was ask me, and I would have taken you.”
Gibbs watched as relief spread over Tim’s face and a trembling smile touched his lips when he realized that he wasn’t going to be punished. It was sad that Tim had worked himself up to such an extent. “It’s late. Are you tired?”
“Not really,” Tim answered with a shrug.
“I was going to work on Ducky’s bookcase some more, if you want to join me,” Gibbs offered. He was happy to see Tim’s face light up, so he added, “You can even read me some of your book if you want.”
“Really?” Tim asked a smile spreading across his face. “You would want me to read to you again?”
Gibbs could see how much that meant to Tim. “Of course,” Gibbs reassured him as he got up and placed his plate in the sink.
Following Tim to the basement, Gibbs vowed to make more of a point to express an interest in what Tim was passionate about. Gibbs knew he wasn’t the best when it came to talking in general, but this was Tim, and he was worth the effort.
~NCIS~
Liam jolted awake as ice cold water was splashed against his face. He didn’t remember passing out. Blinking the water out of his eyes, Liam gazed blurrily up at the two figures standing over him. His left eye was swollen shut and some of his ribs were cracked. He had been picked up a couple of hours ago and had been worked over ever since. The weird thing was they hadn’t asked any questions, and they hadn’t answered any of his. The room he had been brought to was bare except for the straight back chair he was tied to and a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
The two goons had been oddly silent the entire time they had landed their blows and now they had been staring at him for over an hour.
“What’s going on, guys? What do you want?” Liam tried to get their attention, but once again, they ignored him. They seemed to be waiting on something.
As the silence stretched on, Liam was able to catch the sound of footsteps off in the distance that got closer until the door opened.
“Liam, Liam, Liam … look at you. You’re a mess,” came a voice from the darkened doorway; it had a familiar lilt to it.
The figure stepped into the light, the man was at least 6’3, with broad shoulders. His dark brown hair was starting to thin, and his blue eyes were flat and almost reptilian in their lack of warmth. Liam’s only functioning eye widened.
Robert Shea.
Liam hadn’t seen him in over two years, not since his drug addiction had become too much of a problem to allow him to continue to run errands for the man. Icy fear stripped him of his voice and his stomach rolled, threatening to empty its meager contents. He knew Shea; he was not a man to cross.
“Liam, I’ve always known you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I always thought at the very least, you had the survival instinct of a cockroach, and that you had enough intelligence to keep from getting stepped on. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Mr … Mr. Shea.” Liam’s voice quivered, “I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Shea made a tsking sound before stepping back and allowing one of the goons to take his place.
The amount of pain surprised Liam, although the blow was expected. It caused his vision to white out, and for a moment Liam thought (hoped) he would pass out again.
When his vision cleared, Shea was in his face. “Let’s try this again. I want you to think real hard,” he said, rapping his knuckles against Liam’s head for emphasis. “What has happened in your life over the last couple of days that I would be interested in?”
Liam’s panicked mind frantically raced through his sporadic memories over the last few of days, until it finally landed on the Oak River hotel, the body, Cathy … the money.
“I … I … I don’t have your money, Sir. I swear,” Liam begged, his voice rising in panic.
“Considering the flop house we found you at, I didn’t think you did. But you were the one who rented that hotel, and since we found you alone, I have to ask. Where is sweet Catherine?” Shea asked, his voice cold. “Because the entire time you ran errands for me, Catherine was always by your side, so it begs the question: Where is she?”
Liam latched onto the name Catherine. “She took your money, Sir, and ran out on me. I haven’t seen her since.”
After he had woken up on that motel room floor a few days ago, he’d put as much distance between himself and Nashville as he could. He’d stopped in Philadelphia to score a hit. He had been woken from his blissed out haze by being yanked upright and thrown in the trunk of a car.
Shea’s smile was cruelly amused. “So she ditched ya the second something better came along.”
The truth of the statement burned. Liam wanted say something cutting, but his face and torso hurt, so he kept his mouth shut. He begged, “Sir, please, I don’t have your money …”
Shea leaned in threateningly. “See, here’s the thing, I know you don’t have the money but lovely Catherine has been a mite harder to track down.” He squatted down in front of Liam so they were at eye level. “Between me and you, Liam, she was always the smart one. Well, except for her taste in men.”
Liam looked right into Shea’s eyes. He saw no mercy within and knew their shared past would not save him.
“The only reason I am even bothering with you at all is you have to have some idea of where she is. So?”
“I swear I don’t know …” Liam stuttered out.
Shea stood up abruptly. “Well, then I have no further use for you,” he said in a flat, dismissive tone.
Liam watched in horror as Shea nodded and the goon on his right withdrew a gun, cocked it, and pointed it at his head. “No … no … Wait, I may know a few places we can look for her.” Liam was crying; tears and snot were running down his face.
He saw Shea turn back. “Please I swear, just give me a little time. I can find her. Please.”
Shea looked him over and grimaced like he found the whole scene distasteful. “Okay here’s what were gonna do. I have too much going on right now to personally go after her myself. So I’ll give you a chance to find her and my money. It will be a chance for you to redeem yourself.”
Feeling a surge of hope that he might make it out alive for the first time since he had been picked up, Liam sputtered out, “I swear you won’t regret this. I’ll find her and bring your money back to Chicago.”
Shea laughed coldly before sobering, “Liam I wouldn’t trust you to fetch me a cup coffee. No, O’Shaughnessy here is going to go with you and make sure you don’t get lost.”
He nodded at the man to his right. O’Shaughnessy pulled Liam’s head back by his hair and sent pain shooting through Liam’s brain. Shea leaned over him and said, “Listen to me very carefully, Liam. If you don’t find her, or if you try to ditch O’Shaughnessy, you are gonna wish I had put that bullet into your head.”
Shea turned away. “Clean him up and stick to him like your life depends on it because it does. Lose him and that’s it for you. Understood?”
O’Shaughnessy nodded gravely. His hard eyes settled on Liam. Liam looked away unable to meet the other man’s gaze. He knew he could very well be looking at the man who would eventually kill him.
Chapter Three