You're Next

TV always made this look so easy. A book of mug shots, a fingerprint, and next thing you knew, Jack Bauer was kicking down a front door. But all Mike had was no last name, a white van, and a plate number that had been out of circulation for two decades. He thought of how he’d felt in Hank’s office when he’d confronted the File of Dead Ends. A needle in a stack of needles.

Annabel still didn’t buy that William or Dodge had broken into the house at night to steal the polar bear and whisper into the monitor; she was more concerned about their general menace. The fact that they’d picked up the bear somewhere meant they were either following the family or snooping around behind Kat. Clearly, they wanted something.

Markovic flipped through his notes. ‘You have this… stuffed polar bear?’

‘No, I… no, we-’

Annabel said, ‘We drove away and left it on the ground. It didn’t seem wise to go back and get it.’

‘Mmm.’ The gaze settled on Mike. ‘And you said another car followed you?’

Mike had mentioned the Mercury in passing, drawing a curious glance from Annabel. Now he regretted raising it at all. ‘I think. But I can’t be sure. On Wednesday. A Grand Marquis.’

‘But these guys tonight, William and’ – glance to the notepad – ‘Dodge, they had a van.’

‘They could own two vehicles.’ ‘Sure. Of course.’

Mike pressed his fingertips to the sore spot on his forehead, testing the bruise. Markovic had zoned out, contemplating his notes. In the adjoining office, her tapered back turned to the interior window, Elzey was still tapping away on a keyboard. She was on an old-fashioned phone now, the coiled cord stretching up into view. She hung up, dialed someone else. Her neck was flexed, and Mike didn’t like the intensity of her body language. She stepped to the doorway and curled a finger. ‘Marko.’

Markovic pushed back, his chair offering a feeble squeak of protest, and joined her. Something about the way they were talking flicked at Mike’s nerves. Faces close, teeth shut, lips barely moving. Elzey noticed him observing through the office window and closed the blinds with a single wrench of the turning rod.

Troubled, Mike refocused his attention on his family. Kat’s eyes drooped, then finally closed. Annabel whispered, ‘We gotta get this one home.’

‘As soon as he comes back.’

‘Do you think-’ Annabel stopped. Mike nodded her on. ‘Do you think this has anything to do with that sleazy contractor? Or the governor’s agenda?’

‘What are you guys talking about?’ Kat had stirred to life again. ‘What sleazy contractor?’

‘Nothing, Kat,’ Mike said. Then, to Annabel, ‘I doubt it. It’s hard to picture them doing this over that.’

‘Over what?’

‘Not now, Kat,’ Mike said. ‘Go back to sleep.’

She furrowed her brow at him before tilting her head against her mother’s chest. Annabel stroked Kat’s hair absentmindedly, her eyes fixed on Mike.

He hoped that this – whatever this was – had everything to do with PVC pipes and Bill Garner’s latest PR campaign for his boss. That felt containable, known, a world of clear-cut motives and back- scratching. So Mike didn’t say what he feared most: that this had nothing at all to do with Green Valley. That this was a whole different order of ugliness that had yet to reveal its face.

Markovic and Elzey returned, a fresh energy stiffening their strides. Elzey spun a chair around, mounted it like a Harley. ‘We’re encountering some difficulties nailing down biographical details,’ she said. ‘For you.’

Mike felt his pulse tick up a few beats. ‘Why are you running me?’

‘“Running” you.’ Markovic gave an impressed frown. ‘Look who’s been watching Law & Order.’

‘Listen,’ Elzey said, ‘a guy asks us to look into something, we look into it. You have a squeaky-clean record with a number of blank spaces. If you’re really as concerned as you claim, you can probably fill in some of those blanks so we can know where to look.’

Mike pictured them shoulder to shoulder in that back office and wondered what they’d been discussing that had prompted them to take such an aggressive tack. He said, ‘I have no idea where to point you.’

‘Come on. There must be something. A bad deal, a weird overlap, a near miss… You’ve never bumped up against anything like that?’

‘No.’ Mike was out of shape when it came to this and was sure his face showed the lie. But he couldn’t exactly spill here about PVC pipes and an implicit deal struck with the governor’s office. Besides, he felt certain that the confrontation had nothing to do with that anyway. The near-surface violence, the circling-shark approach, the unspoken threat to his family – the whole thing was raising more red alerts than some PR bullshit involving subsidies and green houses.

Elzey held out her hands. ‘We can’t help you if you’re not more forthcoming with us.’

‘Wait a minute. Why are you making this about him?’ Annabel came vertical in her chair, nearly pushing Kat out of her lap.

Kat grumbled a complaint, and Markovic leaned over and said to her, ‘Why don’t you go play on those chairs over there?’

‘She’s tired,’ Annabel said. ‘Then she can lie down.’

Kat dragged her backpack over to the row of chairs and slouched into one, her dangling sneakers a few inches off the flecked tile.

‘Two men came after me in a parking lot,’ Mike said. ‘What’s my background have to do with that?’

‘You want to tell us?’ Elzey’s tone was polite, conciliatory. When she bent her head to listen, her angel tatt – black ink on dark skin – looked like an elaborate birthmark. ‘Plus, it doesn’t sound like they came after you any more than you went after them. So they were acting strange-’

‘This wasn’t just strange. It wasn’t some game or random harassment.’ Disheveled in his overpriced suit, Mike yanked his tie free and stuffed it into a pocket. ‘These are dangerous men. I can tell the difference.’

‘How?’ Markovic matched Mike’s stare. ‘I mean, an upstanding businessman like you – where would you have learned to read men like that?’

‘Anyone could’ve read these guys.’ He was burned out, his fuse short, his words terse. ‘Plus, they stole something from my daughter.’

‘Sounds like they were trying to return missing property.’

‘How do you think it got missing?’ Annabel said.

‘Your daughter had a backpack with her,’ Elzey said. ‘It couldn’t have fallen out at the ceremony?’

Kat said, loudly, from across the room, ‘I think I’d notice if there was a stuffed polar bear in my backpack.’

‘Maybe she lost it at the ceremony and was embarrassed,’ Markovic offered quietly. ‘Or she was worried she’d get in trouble. Kids. Maybe she lied.’

‘We don’t lie in our family,’ Mike said, before he could catch himself.

‘It was stolen days before,’ Annabel added.

‘Maybe Katherine misplaced it. Like in your truck, by the door. You get to the party, open the door, it falls out…’ Markovic’s face said he was just painting a scenario, but his eyes said something else.

Mike’s confidence faltered. He couldn’t be certain that the detective was wrong. After all, Kat wasn’t positive where she’d last seen her stuffed animal. He felt himself growing more defensive, shoring up his own case, which he knew was exactly what you’re not supposed to do. He spoke low so Kat wouldn’t hear but felt his teeth clenching around the whisper. ‘No. They broke into our house and stole it.’

‘Oh, good.’ Markovic’s face softened. ‘So you filed a burglary report?’

Annabel cast a sharp look at Mike; she’d recommended, wisely, that he leave out the possible break-in. He looked away glumly. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ Markovic asked.

What was he going to say? Because I thought I was hearing ghosts in the baby monitor? Because there wasn’t a single sign of forced entry? Because maybe it was all in my head?

Even though she didn’t believe it herself, Annabel shouldered in in his defense, ‘We may have heard