The Triangle Conspiracy

Daryn lowered her head, then glanced toward Britt, who was still watching Sean intently. Daryn finally looked back to Sean. “What is it you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Anecdotes. Stories. That sort of thing.”

Sean watched her, saw her dark eyes flicker.

Daryn sighed. “My father is a wealthy, powerful man. He’s part of the ruling class. I grew up as part of it before I realized what was going on. My father’s values disgust me. He pushed my mother aside when I was a little girl and paraded a group of whores in and out as trophy wives. Don’t worry, the word whore doesn’t bother me. Since I am one, of course.”

Britt looked at the floor. Daryn took her hand. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. We know what we are. We know who we are. It’s the rest of society that can’t handle it.” She looked back up at Sean. “When I was seventeen, my father had been away, out of the country for some meetings. And like any self-respecting rich, spoiled teenager, I threw a party while he was gone. You name it, it went on. Booze, dope, sex. All of us were stupidly wealthy, so none of us cared about anything. Our fathers could buy our way out of any trouble we got into. It was late, two or three in the morning, and most of the others had gone home. I was in my room, in bed with two of my good friends, Bryan and Jennifer. We were all so busy screwing each other’s brains out that we didn’t notice my father had come into the room.”

Britt drew in a sharp breath. Sean was silent, watching.

“I have no idea how long he stood there watching us have sex with each other. He didn’t say a word, didn’t make a sound. When we were finished, Bryan happened to look up and saw him. My father only said one word. ‘Go.’ Bryan and Jen grabbed their clothes and left me naked in the bed. I was waiting for the storm to hit, but it didn’t. My father never spoke. He simply took off his clothes, came to the bed, and climbed on top of me. It took maybe three minutes, then he got up, got dressed, and left the room. Neither of us ever spoke about it. I never told a soul.” Daryn looked up at Sean. “Until now. There’s your anecdote. There’s your story.”

“Kat, I-” Sean said.

“I’d like to go inside now,” Daryn said. “I need to talk to Franklin for a minute, then I’m going up to our room. Britt, honey, I’d like you and Michael to get to know each other better. I want my two friends to know each other well.”

“Whatever you want,” Britt said.

“Good girl.” Daryn leaned up and kissed Britt lightly on the lips, then turned and went in the house. “I’ll be waiting upstairs.”

She turned, and a moment later the kitchen door closed behind her. Sean leaned on the deck railing. A warm breeze came up the slope from below and tousled his hair. He felt Britt’s presence behind him.

“Does anyone else here know?” Sean asked without turning around. “Who she really is, I mean.”

“I don’t think so,” Britt said.

“Interesting.”

“What does all this mean? I don’t get it. I just want to be with Dar…Kat.”

“I’m not sure,” Sean said.

Britt nodded. “She gets those awful migraines. Her forehead scrunches up when she has one. I wish I could take her pain away.”

Devotion bordering on obsession? Sean wondered. “I know. Did you know about…what she just said?”

Britt cleared her throat. “No. She said she never told a soul. I believe her. She wouldn’t lie.” The girl shuffled her feet. “She wants me to be with you.”

Sean turned to look at her childlike face. “You don’t have to. I’m not a customer.”

“No, it’s not like that. If she wants me to, it’s not like that. She knows what’s best.” She put out a hand and touched his chest.

“No, Britt. I don’t think so.”

She dropped her hand. A sly look came over her face. “You like a good drink, don’t you? One of the other guys has some hard stuff. She told me where to find it.”

Sean’s mouth felt dry. He opened his mouth to say something, then his cell phone rang.

Britt frowned.

Sean pulled the phone off the clip he wore on his belt. He saw Faith’s number on the caller ID.

“Do you need to get that?” Britt asked.

“No,” Sean said after a long moment. When it stopped ringing, he turned off the phone.

Britt looked triumphant. “You know, even if you don’t want to be with me now, you will later.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Isn’t it every guy’s fantasy to be with two girls who are into each other, too?”

Sean gaped at her.

“We’re sleeping together in the same room. In the same bed. You’re like me, you know. You can’t resist her either.”

A shudder crawled up Sean’s spine. Britt smiled crookedly at him, then turned around and started toward the house. In a moment he followed her.

17

FAITH SLEPT POORLY AND WOKE UP UNRESTED. Even her morning run didn’t help her feel better. Moving by rote, letting the inertia of routine drive her, she got dressed and drove downtown to her office. By seven thirty she was staring at the catfish, Styrofoam coffee cup in her hand.

Her brother was an alcoholic. Too many of the signs were there. It had ruined his career, and she suspected it was the underlying cause his brief marriage hadn’t worked. And now, when she’d tried to help him, it had shredded their relationship as well.

“Dammit,” she said aloud, then repeated it, louder.

She logged onto her computer. Still nothing from Director Yorkton on the final decision about Leon Bankston. She was sure Bankston would be green-lighted, but sometimes it took a while for the attorney general to sign off on the cases. In the meantime Bankston would sit in the safe house in identity limbo, driving Hal Simon crazy. The thought of Bankston haranguing Simon over the house’s decor made Faith smile a little.

It faded quickly, though. Sean, she thought. What to do about Sean? She’d called him seven times from the moment he walked away from the AA meeting, up until this morning, and he never picked up. She had no idea where he was or what he was into. For all she knew, he could have gone out and gotten even drunker, then driven his Jeep off a bridge somewhere.

Aside from times in her teens, Faith had rarely felt powerless. There was always something that could be done. She relied on her intellect, and then took action. At least there’s one thing I have in common with my father, she thought.

She tried to remember everything Sean had said and done since he’d shown up outside her house the other morning. He’d gone searching for a hooker, who, he’d said, had pointed him in the right direction. Then he’d stayed gone all night and had come to her for help. He’d wanted a safe house.

Faith tapped a pen on her desk, then did what she always did when deep in thought: she doodled on her legal pad.

He had talked to her about an incident at an apartment complex. Shots had been fired, and the girl who lived there was missing.

It’s part of this job I’m doing. Yes, I was there, he’d said.

He’d mentioned Department Thirty for the first time, said he wanted Faith to provide a safe house.

Faith, I need your help. I need to keep this girl safe and out of sight for a while.

They’d argued. She finally agreed to let him use the department’s Edmond safe house temporarily, since it wasn’t currently being used for any Department Thirty recruits, with Bankston being kept at the Yukon house. Then she’d demanded that he do something for her, and she’d dragged him to the AA meeting.

“Stupid,” Faith said aloud. It had been the wrong way to approach it. Not only had it not worked, Sean had disappeared and another wedge had been driven into their relationship.

I need to keep this girl safe and out of sight for a while.

So Sean knew where the missing girl was. Or at least he had yesterday morning.

Faith knew nothing about who the girl was, or how deep Sean’s involvement went.

But I’ll find out what I can, she thought.

She picked up the phone.

“Hey,” she said when Hendler came on the line.

“Hey, yourself, beautiful. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Do you know anything about this missing persons case, a girl who disappeared from an apartment complex? Neighbors reported a disturbance, then a shot, then the girl is gone. Ring any bells?”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Faith. Tell me what you really want to know.”

Faith smiled. “Sorry. You know subtlety isn’t my strong suit.”

“No, really? I know what case you’re talking about. I don’t think we’re in it, though. Oklahoma City PD’s handling it.”

Faith doodled a few more shapes on her pad, ending with a triangle. She traced over each of the three sides of it several times with her pen. “Do you know anyone there who could tell you anything?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Why?”

Faith scribbled Sean’s name along one side of the triangle. “I think…” She stopped.

“What?”

“I think my brother might have something to do with it.”

Hendler waited a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure.” She explained some of Sean’s activities, ending with his request for a safe house, and the disastrous AA meeting.

“Holy shit,” Hendler said softly when she’d finished. “I don’t know which part of that is worse, the fact that your brother might have a real drinking problem, or that he might be mixed up in something with this girl, whoever she is.”

Faith was touched. Leave it to Scott Hendler to think of the family aspect of any problem before the law enforcement aspect.

“Well,” Hendler said, “we can’t just go to the city PD and start talking about Department Thirty safe houses here in town. Number one, local cops aren’t going to know what Thirty is, and number two…”

“…They don’t need to know,” Faith finished.