Fighting Conviction by Greer Rivers

Chapter Thirty-Four

“This is wrong, Cici. It’s too much. The Russian ain’t even here. What if Rusnak was lyin’.”

The rip of tape around Ellie’s bare legs punctuated each sentence the investigator was rambling. He’d apparently given up mumbling and muttering to whatever apparition was following him around and had gone into full conversation with… Cici?

“Can’t really judge him, can ya, girl?”

Guess I can’t, can I?

As soon as they entered Sasha’s old neighborhood, Ellie’s best friend was back to her talkative self. It honestly couldn’t have come at a better time. Sasha’s voice was like a calming, meditative breath, keeping Ellie’s mind on track and out of the worst possible scenarios threatening to drive her to helplessness.

“This house looks just like mine did, doesn’t it? Same layout and everything.”

Ellie huffed a laugh and the investigator paused to look at her and give her a bug-eyed glare before going back to wrapping the tape.

He’d parked behind some old house that reminded Ellie of the one she’d practically lived in growing up, except the inside was a time capsule from decades ago. There was shag carpet, wood-paneled walls, brown, green, and yellow hues.

Looks exactly like yours. Except for how outdated it is.

“True. The kitchen seems smaller. Probably ‘cuz of that pantry over there.”

At Sasha’s words, Ellie looked to the small double doors, but cringed when she saw Virginia breathing heavy as she leaned against the wood. “And at least mine wasn’t fuckin’ gross. What is that smell? Can’t be bleach…”

Sasha was right. It was why Ellie thought they were in the investigator’s house. It reeked of the same tobacco and alcohol scent seeping from the sweat dripping down his forehead. The underlying cleaning odor was hard to believe since the place was a total pigsty.

Newspaper and trash were everywhere, like whatever he hadn’t wanted to hold anymore, he’d just dropped straight to the ground. The two biggest concentrations of debris were around a corkboard she couldn’t see the front of, and his chair centered in the living room. It was disgusting. At one point she could’ve sworn she’d seen something move out the corner of her eye.

Ellie sighed before yet another wrap of duct tape stuck to her skin. She glanced at Virginia. The investigator had carried her in first and dumped her in the corner of the small kitchen, much like he dumped everything else in his house. She was sickly pale and sweating and her labored breathing hurt just to hear. Ellie couldn’t imagine how it felt. She looked so broken the investigator hadn’t even bothered to bind her.

His mistake.

If Ellie was going to get them out of there, the less she had barring their escape the better.

She glanced around the house for the umpteenth time for exits, hiding spots, and potential weapons. There were drawers in the kitchen she could grab a knife from. A half-full jar of moonshine.

“Your kick ass heels, obvi.”

Ellie tucked her chin to hide her smile. Sasha had always had the knack of making even the worst moments seem manageable. Looking back, its absence was probably why Ellie was paralyzed with fear in the hotel when they were kidnapped.

“It was also a real fucked situation and you were drugged. Don’t beat yourself up, babe.”

Ellie nodded to herself. You’re right. I’ve been working on that… I just think the situation is starting to get to me—

“Don’t let it. Focus. Breathe. You’ve learned a lot of shit from that man of yours. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“There, that should do it. That’ll keep her still until we figure out what to do with her.” The investigator’s knees creaked as he stood up. He tossed the duct tape on the counter in front of him and took a heavy swig from the mason jar of moonshine before taking out a medicine bottle from one of his uniform pockets. His thumb stroked the paper on the outside and he opened it, only to close it again.

“Where are they, Cici? I don’t want all this shit to be for fuckin’ nothin’. What do I do with them if the Russians don’t show?” He pulled out his phone and started typing on it. “I don’t know if I can do this. Can I leave them somewhere? What do I do?”

The line of questioning was like a lifeline, and Ellie grabbed on and held tight. Dev’s words from her countless hours of training filtered through her mind and came out in Sasha’s voice.

“Remember: negotiate. Humanize. Make the captor feel bad for takin’ you.”

“Who’s Cici?”

The investigator stopped typing and laid his phone on the counter to turn to her. “None of your fuckin’ business, girlie.” He tilted his head to the side, like he was craning to hear something. “I don’t care if it wasn’t fuckin’ nice.”

Ellie looked around to the dusty pictures hanging on the wall. There were a few where she could barely make out the pretty woman in the frame with the investigator’s arm wrapped around her.

“Is Cici your wife?”

The investigator grunted and swiped down his face, smearing the sweat accumulating there. He pulled out a lighter and started to flick it, on and off, on and off. A habit. He seemed to get lost in the flame.

Doesn’t that hurt his thumb?

She needed to get his attention. If she got through to him, maybe she could negotiate their way out. “Is that her? The happy woman in that picture?”

He grunted again and looked up at the picture Ellie had nodded to since her hands were still handcuffed behind her back. A problem she’d been trying to work out a solution for since he’d slapped them on. Dev had only taught her the one front handcuff and then she’d gotten him a little… sidetracked.

The investigator walked up to the picture and used his fingers to clear the grime from her face. “Cicilia.”

“Um… sorry? I didn’t hear—”

“Cicilia. She’s my wife.” The investigator staggered back and took another swig from the moonshine. He’d already depleted over half the thirty-two-ounce jar in their short time together.

“Cicilia is your wife?”

“Was. Gone now.” He pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Don’t let him make that call, girl. Whoever he kidnapped you for could be waiting on the other line.”

“H-how long were you married?”

He huffed and lingered his gaze over the picture again. “Thirty years.” He took another sip and sucked in a breath through his teeth before exhaling.

Despite everything, Ellie’s heart ached for him. “H-how long has she been gone?”

His wistful stare grew watery. “Eight.”

“I’m sorry.” She couldn’t imagine losing the man she loved after so much time. Or ever. The thought of Dev going into that hotel room flashed into her mind.

Was he safe? She hadn’t even thought of the danger he constantly put himself in. She’d just trusted he’d make it through. But God, what if he didn’t?

He has to be okay.

Ellie bowed her head and breathed in deeply to envision him safe and healthy, but the stench of ammonia choked her instead.

“We were happy, ya know.”

Ellie stilled and watched the investigator as he washed his depression in moonshine and leaned against the counter for support. The lighter was quiet in his hand.

“I’m sure you were,” Ellie offered.

“We got married at eighteen. Too damn young, but happy. I went into the police force. She became a nurse. It was perfect.”

“That sounds nice. Did, um… did y’all have any kids?”

The silence went on so long Ellie found herself searching for something else to say until he filled the empty space with three simple words.

“We’d wanted them.”

Ellie’s lungs twisted, both out of sympathy and fear she’d asked the wrong question, but the investigator continued.

“I got promoted to investigator. We were happy about that for a while. But the job… it ain’t easy. ‘Shine’s doin’ the trick right now.” He lifted up the jar. “Back then, Jack and Jim were my closest friends. That’s when everything got fucked up.”

He buried his face into the hand holding the lighter and whispered. “I’m sorry, Cici. So sorry. It’s all my fault. If I’d been there… I know. But if I’d been there more… come home earlier. Been home. You woulda stayed…”

The pain laced in each word ripped at Ellie’s heart and she looked away. She could never hold back tears when she saw a man cry, but it was more than that. Even with all her work at Sasha Saves, she’d never seen someone more broken.

A crash of glass against the wall made her yelp, but the sound was drowned out when the investigator screamed at the thin air.

“You left me! And now look at what I’ve become. Without you, I am nothing. Why did you have to go? Now I’m neck-deep in somethin’ I can’t swim out of.” He slid down to the floor. “You always had the answers, Cees. Always. If you were here, you’d know what to do…” Tears streamed down his face, but he wasn’t sobbing. It was almost as if he didn’t even notice them anymore. “I know… I know. Rehab. You’ve been tellin’ me for years.” He sighed and leaned his head against the counter island. “You’re right. You’re always right. Fuck.”

Everything was silent again, but Ellie didn’t feel the need to fill the air with noise this time. It seemed like there was a full conversation going on in the investigator’s head anyway and she was afraid to interrupt.

“Maybe that’ll work. What does this life have to do for me anyway? I’ll plead guilty. They’ll send me to rehab…” He sighed. “I’m gonna die in there though, Cici.” He paused. “But I guess I’m dead already.”

Ellie wasn’t sure what he was talking about but she let him go. She looked over to Virginia, whose eyes were back open. She gave a subtle thumbs up with her right hand before closing them again. She didn’t look any better, but maybe she was better off than Ellie thought.

“You ready to go?”

Ellie whipped her head back to the investigator, who was now staring at her.

“Um… go?” Uh… Sash? What’d I miss?

He sighed and slapped the ground before grabbing the counter to help him stand back up. “To the station. Let’s get this over with before I change my damn mind.”

“Really? Uh, why?” Ellie winced. Why did I ask that? How freakin’ dumb—

“‘Cuz you got an angel up there, is why.”

Ellie had no idea what that meant, but she didn’t question it. Hope and relief washed over her as the investigator pulled out what she guessed was the key to the handcuffs. She maneuvered her duct-taped feet to sit up on her knees.

“Thank you, oh my God. Thank you. I’ll do whatever you want if you get my friend to the hospital.”

He paused. “Shit, fuck. I forgot about her.” He wiped his face. “We’ll take her to the hospital first. Lights and sirens should get her there quicker than waitin’ for EMS.”

Ellie was dizzy with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Cici—”

A loud pounding on the back door froze Ellie’s blood.

“Who the fuck…” He moved to look out of the grungy curtains covering the small window next to the back door. A hushed curse escaped him before he turned to Ellie. Whatever he’d seen turned him whiter than a sheet. His lips were working before his words were audible.

“Hide.”