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Vera
Brushing Ximena’s hair off her face, Vera pulled the comforter up to her shoulders. She fell asleep moments after they left Sylen and stayed that way for the entire drive. She'd been that way since they were kids; anytime she was upset or overwhelmed she’d fall asleep for hours at a time. It was her ‘off’ switch for shitty situations. Vera kissed her cheek softly and set some migraine pills out for her on the nightstand.
Teddi refused to discuss what she meant about the two additional bodies, her gaze falling upon Ximena’s sleeping form every few minutes until they got back home. Vera took the time during the drive to breathe. All she did was endless counts of four-seven-eight. In, hold, out. A reliable trick her trainer taught her right before her first undercover op.
“It is not if, but when shit hits the fan.” He said after spending thirty minutes questioning her on her new identity. In and out, back and forth they went over every inch of her new fictional life. Her blood hummed in her veins. The taste of excitement was like sugar on her tongue. She didn’t care if shit hit the fan, she was going. Finally, going into the field.
“Hey,” he snapped his thick, scarred fingers in her face, forcing her to look him dead in the eye. It was hard to do. The man was a walking urban legend. His decades-long work made him the kind of guy people whispered about over the water cooler. She never learned his real name, confident that “Dan” was fake when he introduced himself. Identity was a game to him.
He was one of those people who’d seen too much of the world, a feral look in his eyes that settled in after reaching too far behind the curtain. “You’re about to enter one of the most dangerous gangs in the city. You’re on their turf, in their hands. This isn’t a game, there’s no “time out” or pause or extra seconds to get your shit straight. This isn’t training.” The excitement turned slightly sour in her mouth. “It may become life or death at some point. For you or someone else.”
Vera knew this, went over it in her head hundreds of times as she lay in bed or sat through mandated briefings. Sitting with her own mortality was as normal as making coffee at this point. Dying in the line of duty wasn’t what she wanted but she made a kind of peace with it. The most peace someone could make. Yet his voice held a violent truth she rarely heard outside her own mind. “You prepare until you’re blue in the face now. You bleed now so you don’t bleed then. Spend time on your breathing and focus your mind. It may be the difference between you making it out because you don’t lose your shit.”
She trusted him and he entrusted her with her tips and tricks that she went on to use for years. How to wrap a truth in a lie, how to blend in, how to stand out, how to plan ten steps ahead, how to spot a con. The education was endless.
But in the car, leaving the coldness of Sylen and Alex until he could be transported home, all she could do was breathe exactly how he taught her. There was no training for losing family.
Sitting on the edge of Ximena’s bed, Vera ran her fingers through her own hair, gripping the roots. She wanted to be back in D.C., back at work right that second so bad she felt as if she could run the thousand miles fueled on desire alone.
No one had trained her to identify her own cousin on a cold metal table or hold her sister while she fell apart. No training had prepared her for the soul-crushing feeling of helplessness knowing she couldn’t rely on the resources of the FBI the way she had for so many years. Years that shaped who she was as a person and a Special Agent. It wasn’t just what she did, it was who she was. The near-decade of experience and training drilled into her. It held every answer for how to navigate uncertainty. It taught her how to find answers, to go through life with confidence and fortitude. It was the accumulation of those skills that made her great at undercover work and yet she felt that well-placed mask slipping under the weight of her new reality.
“Vera?” Teddi stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in her hands. Her long-sleeved shirt was tucked into her dark jeans, highlighting the curves of not just her well-toned muscles but her generous chest. “C’mon, there’s stuff we need to discuss.”
Following her into the living room, they sat on opposite ends of the couch, hands clutching their drinks. Vera took a sip and was pleasantly surprised when she tasted clove and honey. “You remembered how I like my tea?” She asked, watching as one side of Teddi’s mouth tilted up.
“I remember everything.” Vera thought she almost heard the silent “about you”, surprise heating her cheeks. She could say the same. Every one of Teddi’s favorite things from her preferred weekend breakfast to what music fit which of her moods, was stamped in her mind. Why Teddi had bothered to remember hers, she wasn’t sure.
Clearing her throat, she settled in, steering away from it all. “What happened? Who are these two other victims?”
She criss crossed her legs and faced her as she pulled her phone out. “My colleague, J, is a hacker. Or, she was a hacker. It’s a gray area at the moment. She’s good with computers and we’ve all been feeling weird about the lack of information Sylen has given out since the body was posted on the NMPD.” She paused, the energy with which she spoke falling as she said his name. “I’m sorry, Vera. I had really hoped we would find him alive just hiding out somewhere, taking a breather.”
Tucking her feet beneath her, she kept her expression bland. She didn’t want to talk about Alex yet. She wanted to pretend it was someone else’s story for a little bit, someone else’s family destroyed in that morgue. “I’m just glad you’ve been here for Mimi. But go on. What about J?”
She nodded knowingly. “J was... unethically”—she put up air quotes around the word—“digging into the electronic Sylen Sheriff files and couldn’t find anything until today.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear about her hacking into a department database. You mean she couldn’t find anything about Alex?”
“No, I mean anything. There are barely any reports filed. No domestic violence, no vehicle theft, no B&E’s, there’s virtually zero crime being reported in Sylen.”
“How can that be?” Vera rubbed her brow.
“Initially we thought that maybe they were sticking with paper case files, old school, you know? It’s a small town and the sheriff gave me push back on sending an image of the body, of Alex, beforehand too. But there are intermittent digital records submitted within the last 8 months by a Deputy named Isaac Butler, so we know that’s not the problem. He's their newest recruit so I'm assuming he's bringing in more modern reporting procedures but who knows at this point. J could barely find anything beyond a misdemeanor and there are no criminal court records.”
Her palms prickled. “That’s impossible, maybe J didn’t know what she was doing.”
Teddi shook her head vehemently. “No. J is the best in the business, she can find anything and anyone at any time. I’m telling you, she’s reliable. Mackey never would’ve hired her if she wasn’t solid.” Leaning forward, Teddi slid her hand along the back of the couch. “I think something serious is going on in Sylen. Sheriff Malis has been in his position for almost twenty years and it was his father before him and his before. It’s like some backwoods generational shit going on, keeping them in power.”
“Keeping law enforcement in the family isn’t unheard of.” Leaning her elbow on the back of the couch, she watched as Teddi became more animated.
“This is different. Who has at least three generations of sheriffs from the same family? And why are there so few crimes? Crime happens everywhere, that’s a statistical fact. Where humans exist, crimes occur. Something is going on and we were trying to figure out what. That was until J called as we were leaving the office today.” Unlocking her phone, she flipped it around so Vera could see.
The prickling in her palms spread up her arms, raising the hair. “Where did she find this?”
“Sitting in the Sylen sheriff database. Someone is filling in the reports just not officially submitting them. It’s like they’re drafts yet to be filed and completed. Sheriff Malis wouldn’t need to even review them at this stage so we think he doesn’t know. There wasn’t much else there except these reports of two bodies.”
Vera scrolled down, reading the details inside the black boxes on the form.
Name: Adam Maller. Age: 50. Body in rigor mortis upon discovery. Body was positioned on a wide, flat rock on his knees with palms pressed together. Bent forward, elbows on the rock with head bowed. Eyeballs removed from sockets using an unknown tool. Right leg removed approximately two inches above the ankle bone, skin tears denote a sawing motion. Minor inclement exposure or damage. Body was found naked.
