The silence of the sitting area was quietly broken by the crackling of the warm blaze in the grid. Chelsea sat on a large comfortable cushion resting against the sofa. The laptop lay on a low side table, making it easy for her to work for a long time without too much discomfort. Glancing at the fire, she noticed it still blazed high, and the warmth had kept the natural night chill from her having to wrap a blanket around herself.
The information Jason had started to put together had been interesting; when looking for the vectors that could connect Brad, or whatever his real name was, to the trafficking ring Chelsea found herself adding to the questions unanswered instead of clearing up queries. Working through the lists of missing persons, target possibilities, and those who had been helped, Chelsea added to the vectors to find the connection they needed.
Where did Brad get the money to buy apartment buildings or random apartments?
How did he get the information of the people whom he targeted?
Where did he get it from?
Who helped him with that amount of detail?
Frowning, Chelsea watched her screen as the sought-after information she had been waiting for popped up on the screen; quickly putting firewalls in place to keep anyone out of her system, she sent the data to a secure area to store, monitoring the line for anything that may be detrimental to herself, or those she was determined to protect that included the family and those living on this land. Once the information stopped coming through, Chelsea's fingers flew as she put her personal security brand into play, wiping the hacking trail, digital fingerprints and anything that would alert the other parties of the breech. Looking through the information in the secure area, Chelsea felt her blood run cold; this was not good.
"Oh no ... no ... no ... this is not good at all," she whispered.
"What is not good?" Caroline asked from behind her before stepping into view with a cup of coffee, "I did ask if you wanted coffee, but you seemed preoccupied, so I made you some."
Chelsea slowly closed the laptop before taking the coffee and cautiously watching Caroline as she sat on a nearby couch.
"I must have been more focused than I realised," Chelsea said.
"You don't have to look at me as if I'm a spy," Caroline said, chuckling, "I was up early, heard you working away and thought you may need a break."
"That is ....very thoughtful," Chelsea said, sipping at the strange-tasting coffee, "what kind of coffee is this?"
"Hazelnut," Caroline said, glancing away, but Chelsea noticed her eyes dart toward her, "you like it?"
"It's... interesting," Chelsea said, easing the cup onto the coffee table as her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she noted the text from the colleague she had been in touch with, using the cover to send Jake a quick message and open a line of communication between them, "Do you prefer flavoured coffees?"
"Sometimes," Caroline said, "everything okay?"
"Oh yes, just an update regarding something," Chelsea said.
"Is there an update regarding what you were working on? Caroline asked.
"Why do you ask?" Chelsea countered, watching Caroline's every move. Something was off, different or perhaps more devious about this woman who acted lightheartedly but wasn't.
"Curious, is all," she said flippantly, "I'm also curious about what you really do wherever Jake and yourself work."
Chelsea's gaze rose to meet the granite orbs of a waiting Caroilne; suddenly, she knew the strange taste in her coffee wasn't hazelnut flavour.
"You drugged my coffee. Why did you want to drug me? To find out what I really do?" Chelsea asked, feeling incredulous when Caroline nodded, "Why? What have I ever done to you that you'd compromise not only me but your son as well."
"What other way am I to find out what is happening?" Caroline sighed, "Everyone hides things from me, behaving like I would fall apart if I knew."
"Perhaps they are trying to protect you," Chelsea said, "they love you enough to do that. You should be happy about that."
"Happy," Caroline scoffed, shaking her head, "I know what protection is and what happens with the men in this family is not protection ... if they wanted to protect me, they would tell me what is happening so I know how to look out for myself. Suppose I get into trouble even after the precautions taken, and they come to my defence. In that case, that is protection ... not what they are doing now."
"So you think drugging Chelsea is a good way to know what is happening?" Jake asked, coming in from the kitchen, shaking his head, "I would have expected something better from you, Mom." Kneeling next to Chelsea, he took her chin in his hand, looking deeply into her eyes before nodding, "How much did you drink?"
"A sip," Chelsea said, irritated at his high-handed manner, "I do know when not to drink something weird tasting ... I'm guessing it's..." she gaped as he waved his hand dismissively toward her, cutting across her sentence.
"We'll know what it is soon enough," Jake said, dipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out an instant test kit, "did you ever think that there are certain things Chelsea and I cannot tell you, Mom?"
"It did cross my mind, but when I ask you directly, you always evade the question or avoid it completely," Caroline said, "how else do you think I'm going to find things out in my own home."
Jake glanced over his shoulder at his mother, shaking his head, "So instead, you dose her coffee with truth serum, and by the look of it, a potent one."
Caroline shrugged, glancing apologetically at Chelsea, before looking out the windows at the creeping dawn.
"What were you working on?" Jake asked, opening Chelsea's laptop without permission and scanning the pages, "you cannot continue with this."
"Why not?" Chelsea asked, her gaze narrowing in anger, "I've covered any digital footprint I may have left; the firewalls are up. Besides, this information is necessary for your family to stay safe."
"I forbid you to continue with this," Jake said, snapping the laptop shut, standing and pacing away from the women, "if anything has to happen, I'll follow it through."
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Chelsea stood, rage exploding, "You'll follow it through? Why not both of us?"
"It's too dangerous," Jake said, "you could get hurt ... or worse."
Chelsea opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out; closing her eyes, she inhaled, "But it's okay for you to go man-alone and possibly get hurt ...or killed."
"That's different," Jake said, "if anything happens, the fallout could be disastrous for you."
"Fallout ... disastrous..." Chelsea spluttered, " ...we're supposed to be partners, watching each other's backs, working together, not the way you define together ..." she shook her head, "I'm so tired of you going off on your own ... doing your own thing and leaving me to cover for you when I'm totally in the dark ... all the time. Did you ever stop to think your behaviour makes things disastrous?"
"You're exaggerating," Jake said, "I leave you out of the picture to protect you."
"Protect me," Chelsea hissed, "nothing is protecting about being left on the side while I'm supposed to be working the cases with you ... out in the field ... as I'm trained to do," Chelsea ground out, "being dropped bones to chew on while you off on the next lead is not protecting. It's condescending."
Jake turned and glared at her, "Your speciality is computers and whatever you do with them ..." he shook his head, "not running around waving a gun."
"You condescending ...." Chelsea's anger rolled through her like a wave heading for the beach, "you ...egotistical ..." Pulling her right hand back, she let it fly, connecting hard with Jake's jaw and sending him sprawling across the floor.
Turning, Chelsea scooped up her laptop, glancing at Caroline, "Thank you for the coffee."
She took the stairs two at a time and strode down the passage toward her room. Entering quickly, she locked the bedroom and balcony door, secured her laptop and angrily tossed a pillow against the opposite wall.
"What a damn jerk ..." she sobbed as the rage broke into a flood of tears, "I have more field experience than he has in his little finger. After three years, he still thinks I can't shoot, fight or anything ..." shaking her head, "I need a shower ..." she scooped up the terry cloth robe and strode into the bathroom, turning on the water she undressed, swiping at her wet face, "... I need a change if I'm going to be able to do my job properly."
Stepping under the hot stream of water, Chelsea let it sweep away the anger, pain and feeling of loss. This was her "someday" to pick up a baseball bat.
Jake pushed himself into a sitting position, tenderly touching his right jaw, "I keep forgetting her mean right hook."
"It's good to know you feel pain," Caroline said, standing and picking up Chelsea's untouched cup, "I think I learnt more about you and your career in the last few minutes than you've ever shared with me in the many years you've followed that path. It hurts that you don't trust me enough to tell me what you can, but I think not trusting your partner is rude."
Circling the couches and heading toward the kitchen, Caroline paused, turning back toward her son, "If that is how you have been treating the person who is supposed to be watching your back," she frowned, "I'm surprised you've stayed alive this long."
Jake pushed to his feet as Caroline disappeared, gently rubbing his aching jaw and shaking his head.
"Your mother has a point," Josiah said as he appeared on the stairs from the garage, "oh, you don't have to say anything. I heard everything from where I was working in the garage."
"Have you been working all night again?" Jake asked.
"Yes, I have things on my mind that will not allow me to rest," Josiah nodded, "Chelsea seemed to be in the same position, so I kept the fire going all night and did some woodwork."
"Do you know that mom drugs people?" Jake asked.
"I'm aware of your mother's tactics and why she feels she has to follow that path," Josiah said, "but I'm more worried about your treatment and behaviour toward Chelsea. She is supposed to be your partner ..." Josaih sighed, "making you part of a team. It's very different from fulfilling your section here with the family ..." Josiah pushed his hands into his pockets, "...even then there are times where working as a team ... as a family is required and after what I've heard .. and seen here ... Jake I'm concerned you won't be able to fit into the team you're already in if you can't be part of a team on your job."
Jake frowned, "But our family and heritage are different."
"Are they?" Josiah asked, "You speak to your work partner as though she is little more than a servant when you're supposed to be watching each other's backs."
"I do watch Chelsea's back," Jake said, "I always have."
"And who watches yours? You constantly keep her out of the loop, dropping bits and pieces when you see fit," Josiah said, shaking his head, "how do you know you're really watching her back if she is never in the field with you."
"I do what is best for Chelsea," Jake said, rolling his shoulders, "that is what you do for people you love."
Josiah stared at his son, silently taking stock before following Caroline, "Perhaps doing what's best for Chelsea is telling her how you feel and trusting her to have your back. Think about a world without her there to watch your back ... or there at all."
Jake stared after his father. Was he right? Could he be in a world without Chelsea?
Sinking into a nearby chair, Jake stared out the window, his mind going through everything Chelsea and his father had said. Images of doing his job without her flashing through his mind ... he didn't like the result, and he didn't like the feeling of emptiness it evoked. Pushing out of the chair, he took the stairs two at a time, swallowing the length of the passage before stopping abruptly and knocking on Chelsea's door.
It opened slowly. Jake took in her tear-streaked face, freshly shampooed, wet long hair hanging down her back; her feet were bare under a pair of black jeans and a long dark red t-shirt. Clearing his throat, he pushed his hands into his back pockets.
"Chels, I'm so sorry," Jakes whispered, "I deserved what you dished out. Can we ..." he hesitated as her blank stare gazed at him, "Can we talk?"
Slowly she moved to the side, permitting him to enter; he walked past her smelling the floral shower gel in the air. Man, everything about this woman drove him crazy. Turning toward her as she shut the door, leaning against it, he looked around, taking in the open laptop and notebook.
"What are you working on?" he asked, finally meeting her cold gaze.
"What do you want, Jake?" Chelsea asked, her voice barely a whisper, but Jake felt the ice pierce his chest and spread through his veins.
"I want to make this right," he said, "explain why I've behaved like ... an ..."
"Idiot? Egocentric maniac? Jerk? Control freak?" Chelsea supplied, moving to the desk and closing her laptop before moving on toward the balcony door and pushing them open.
Jake followed, worry coursing through him; something was very wrong. Something was off, and he had to find out what it was.
"All of those, actually," he followed her onto the balcony, breathing in the warm Summer breeze, bringing the fresh smell of the river mixed with the blooming flowers in the garden below to their senses, "I want to tell you why I behaved like that," he said, "perhaps carve a new path for our partnership."
Chelsea glanced at him, "There is no partnership," she whispered, "I've requested reassignment."
"What? When?" Jake asked, his breath leaving him like she had landed a gut punch, "please reconsider."
"There is nothing to reconsider," Chelsea said, looking down into the garden, "I love seeing this view every morning. It will be missed when I go back to the city."
"Chels, your life is still in danger," Jake said, "what about Brad coming after you?"
She shrugged, "It's all part of the hazards of the job," Chelsea said, "I will be finishing this case and then returning to be reassigned,"
"Where are they reassigning you?" Jake asked.
"I don't know yet," Chelsea sighed, "I'm sure you'll be notified when they find you a new ... partner. Jake, say what you want to say and then leave me alone. I don't think I can deal with any more of your ..." she shook her head, "whatever your behaviour may be called."
Jake knew this had to count. He had one shot at this and was determined not to blow it.