RED SOX: Injuries already. It is going to be a bumpy season, I think.
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"You do know your loft is a pretty obvious hiding place?" Tristan asked from her spot in the center of Sage's supremely comfortable king size bed. "I mean, it's my first choice for a hiding place."
Sage emerged from the bathroom adjusting the black leather sling holding her left arm. She gave a small smile at the tiny twinges of pain the movement caused. The pain was increasing as she forced the hand, with the aid of her right hand, to do more and more work each day. Pain, she believed, was much better than the unrelenting numbness she endured in the early days of her recovery.
"Nobody will think to look for you in my bedroom. We made sure nobody saw you anywhere near the hotel since you bowled my mother over. I brought you up here in by my private elevator from the garage...,"
"What about security cameras? Somebody had to have seen us," Tristan interrupted.
Sage smiled reassuringly as she sat on the edge of the bed, "Dad was in the security office and cut the camera feed. He told them he was running a systems check. Besides the way I had you covered up, you might as well have been wearing a burka for all anybody could see you."
"Mr. Matthews got me released to your custody. That's got to be easy to track down, right?"
"The FBI is working with us. All anybody knows officially is my family refused to press charges against you. That's what I was supposed to be doing at the police station; signing waivers. From there, everybody believes you were released from lock up to receive treatment at a hospital." Sage clarified with a smirk, "A psychiatric hospital."
"That'd be simple enough to check out."
"Mr. Matthews spread the word you'd be admitted as Jane Doe under the care of our own Dr. Tsu. She can be trusted to keep the secret as well as she fixed up your feet during her house call earlier. As for patient information at the hospital, Arbordale currently has fifteen Jane Does. Thirteen of which are actually women. So, nobody's going to be able to find you're not there very easily."
Tristan still looked worried as she studied her treated and taped feet. "What about Max? I know, you think Sebastian/America's security team can take care of him but…Mr. Arnold managed to get us dropped off the roof of your own building under the watchful eyes of Sebastian/America's finest."
Sage closed the distance between them in order to kiss Tristan's neck. She moved up slowly suckling the soft skin all the way to her ear. Sage could feel Tristan's pulse beating wildly under her lips.
"We have a small change in plan with regards to Max."
Tristan shuddered back from the soothing ministrations of Sage's mouth. "What change? God, Sage, I'm trusting you to keep him safe. If you can't then I might as well grab him and run for the hills. Let the state try to find me."
Sage captured Tristan's face in her hand and hushed, "You've got to trust me if not for your sake then for Max's. If you run off with him, they will find you eventually and you'll lose the little contact you have with him forever. He doesn't need that grief. His life is tough enough. Don't make him try to cope without you. He loves you too much to lose you."
"Do you really think he loves me?" Tristan could barely find her voice to ask.
"No, I don't think he loves you," Tristan's eyes filled with tears at the remark. "I KNOW he loves you."
Tristan did cry then. She leaned forward to take hold of Sage. As the tremors of her sobs shook her, she held tight to her former lover and the woman held on to her.
"I want so much for him," she confessed.
Sage whispered, "So do I. And, we'll get him everything he needs after this is over. I promise." Sage released her grip and set Tristan back a bit to explain the plan's changes. "We were spreading the operation too thin across too much territory trying to cover here, your place, the hospital, and Mount Hope. We pulled live surveillance from your place and are relying on remote cameras. Mr. Arnold sent Neal there last time so it's unlikely he would go there himself this time without you even being home. There's a five man team at the hospital. We're trying to make it fairly obvious which room is yours. Don't want Mr. Arnold making a mistake and taking down the wrong crackpot…"
Tristan rolled her eyes, "You have such a way with words."
Sage gave a big grin very pleased with herself for getting Tristan to relax a little. "Mount Hope is just too big; four buildings, half dozen cottages, rambling fields…,"
"That's why I picked it for him."
"…and a great choice for an education but," Sage frowned, "not when you need to provide protection. So, Max's swim team has been invited to the hotel for the weekend."
"He's here!" Tristan could not contain her excitement.
Sage nodded. "He and his nineteen fellow swimmers along with twenty parents or guardians and their coach and the assist coach and Brook and Mom arrived an hour ago," Sage listed off the people and held up corresponding fingers until she ran out of movable fingers. "Mom and Brook think Dad arranged the event to make Mom feel better about missing the team's competition this afternoon. The kids and Mount Hope think he set it up as a reward for their championship season."
"Championship? I didn't even know he swam," Tristan shook her head sadly. "They only tell me what I need to know to do the one to ones with him. I'm not allowed to know anything else about him."
Sage desperately wanted to help Tristan get better access to Max but they needed to finish this undertaking first. "We blocked out the entire third floor for the kids. They have the run of the place. They get exclusive use of the pool from 10 to Noon and 2 to 4, TV's, video games, room service, and anything else they want. Don't worry, he's having a ball. They all are. I might need to make this an annual event for them."
"And, he's safe, right? He's safe here. You promise me," Tristan was begging.
"I promise. We'll keep him safe."
The two sat in silence within a hair of each other but not touching. Each replayed the details in their own heads. Each looking for flaws that neither wanted to find.
"The weekend? They're here just for the weekend?" Tristan asked.
Sage nodded.
"What makes you think Monday is going to be any safer than today for any of us?"
"Because, we're going to catch Mr. Arnold tomorrow night," Sage stated with confidence.
Tristan gave a short nod but was completely baffled by the assurance in the statement. With no more details forthcoming and her body begging for peace, Tristan accepted the remark at face value. She reached up and opened the top button of Sage's shirt. The second followed quickly.
"As long as you're sure, then we should get ready for bed," Tristan hushed.
Sage cleared her throat, "Sure, we can do that. We probably should get some sleep."
Tristan smiled as she popped open the third and forth button, "Who said anything about sleep."
* * *
Tristan was careful as she pulled Sage's shirt up her injured left arm. Even though the hardware holding the bones together had been removed, scabs and jagged, meaty scars remained. Additionally, the range of motion was limited at best. She understood Sage's emotional desire to wear long sleeves but functionally it made dressing a cumbersome process.
"Sorry," Sage whispered in response to the unspoken criticism on Tristan's lips, "I just can't stand looking at it. If you want, I can call the nurse to come help me finish up?"
Tristan stopped what she was doing to question, "You have a nurse? Is she a woman? If she is then she better be older than your mother."
"The hotel has a nurse on staff. She's been amazingly helpful," Sage gave a deep satisfied smile. "Sorry, baby, but she's really hot. Smoking might be the better word for her."
Tristan jerked Sage's shirt closed and roughly began to button it, "And, history is the word for her as of tonight, my friend. I think I can handle all the bathing and dressing jobs you can't manage on your own from here on out."
"Jealous?" Sage teased.
"Absofuckinglutely!" Tristan grabbed Sage by the back of the neck and pulled her head down for a long and forceful kiss. "I'm not going to tolerate you with anybody but me. We're exclusive from tonight forward. I'm afraid, sweet Sage, I've fallen in love with you."
Sage grinned and wrapped her right arm around Tristan's waist, "Really? When did that happen?"
"I'm pretty sure it was nine years ago while we were chained to the booking bench at the police station." Tristan became very serious, "I think I fell in love with you the minute I laid eyes on you."
Sage ducked her head to nibble Tristan's ear. It was creamy soft and warm and each lick elicited a tiny groan of pleasure from the woman. Sage hated she needed to end the moment and finish dressing. Worse, it would be hours before she could get back into bed with Tristan.
"Mr. Matthews is waiting downstairs for us," Sage murmured as she stole several more suckles of Tristan's neck.
"Tell me again you're gonna be safe. Max is gonna be safe. We're all gonna be safe," Tristan plead with soft whimpers as she held fast to Sage.
"Everybody is going to be fine except Mr. Arnold," Sage promised when she finally released Tristan. "Come on, help me with my sling."
Tristan grabbed the butter soft leather sling from the nightstand. "This is kind of kinky."
"Only kind of? I'm hurt." Sage feigned a frown, "I had it designed by my Mom's dress maker. I was hoping it would make me look edgy. You know, like those eye patches do for pirates."
Tristan actually laughed as she slipped the support over Sage's shoulder, "It certainly is a twist on healthcare products. Hey, maybe you could start a line of medical supplies for sexy people."
"Oh yeah, that'd be great! Like leopard skin catheter bags…" Sage laughed.
"…rhinestone adult diapers…"
"…crystal insulin needles…"
"…Lamborghini wheelchairs…"
"…fur lined body bags…"
Tristan's smile faded and the color drained from her cheeks. "He's really dangerous, isn't he? This Arnold guy is looking to kill you for real, isn't he?"
Sage nodded. "I believe he is. But, he's not going to get the chance." She placed her index finger on Tristan's lips to stop the next question, "I promise I won't let him kill me. Or, anybody else, for that matter."
Sage took Tristan's hand and led her out of the bedroom and down to the loft. The room was filled with a long table of monitors and recording devices with a large red phone dead center. A hulking man sat opposite the screens making minor adjustments here and there. Behind him a large folding table was covered with folders and pictures. Mr. Matthews stood staring intently at the array before him.
"I told you we shouldn't let Batman redecorate," Tristan quipped.
Much to her surprise, Mr. Matthews looked up at her and laughed lightly. "Ms. Ayer, as always, a pleasure. If you two don't mind, I'd like to spend a few minutes reviewing the players and the game plan before Sage goes down to join her family for their celebratory meal."
"What are they celebrating?" Tristan asked.
Sage cleared her throat to answer, "Your capture, sweetheart."
"Oh," Tristan kept a firm grip on Sage's hand.
"Let's get started then." Mr. Matthews pointed to the burly man, "Over by the surveillance equipment is Chester. He's been with my security team for fifteen years. He's one of my most senior members. He'll be guarding you, Tristan, as well as helping you to detect anything which might lead us to Mr. Arnold."
"Hi Chet," Tristan waved.
"It's Chester, ma'am." He replied coldly without taking his eyes of the screens.
"Charming," Sage ground out.
"There is additional security in the form an FBI agent outside the door as an added precaution." Mr. Matthews began pointed to the pictures. "We have pictures and bio's of our likely suspects; all the people who knew what the purpose of the interview was." He leaned over and pushed the pictures of the Sebastian family women into a loose pile away from the men. "You seem fairly certain Mr. Arnold is a man?"
"He's a guy. Effeminate but a guy," Tristan confirmed as she stepped closer to the photo line up.
"I think it is safe to move J. Granville into the non suspect pile." Mr. Matthews suggested as he placed the picture on top of the pile of women's pictures. "If it was him, he would have gotten the job done the first time. I've know J. Granville for fifty years and he does not make mistakes with the execution of his plans."
Tristan swallowed hard at the description. She realized she had taken the old man too lightly all these years. He was powerful enough to cause her serious harm if he had wanted to. She understood she was very lucky he considered her little more than a pest.
"That leaves us with the final five; Gareth, Cade, Child-Hassam, Phil, and Greg. Ms. Ayer, do you know who Phil and Greg are?"
"I wouldn't be much of a reporter if I didn't know Child-Hassam's lover…,"
Mr. Matthews shook his head no. "They are married Mr. Ayer. Twenty fifth same sex couple in the Commonwealth to do so."
Tristan blushed slightly at her misstep, "I did know that. Sorry for being glib. And, Greg is the Director of Properties for the Sebastian's private homes and Brook's SO."
Mr. Matthews nodded.
"Wait," Sage stepped closer scanning the remaining pictures and folders. "What about Endicott?"
Mr. Matthews seemed somewhat flustered as he riffled through folders until he found the picture. "I'm sure he didn't even know what state he was in never mind what you were doing that afternoon."
Sage took the picture and stared at it for a long time. She had never seen an image of Endicott before. The only reason she even knew he existed was the occasion mention of him as the 'insane son from a previous marriage to an insane first wife' in biographical profiles of J. Granville. Now, before her eyes, she held a picture of the monster responsible for creating her life in the most despicable way possible.
Her stomach turned slightly when she noticed how much she looked like him. Tall but narrow frame, black Irish complexion, brooding and angular features marked both of them. There could be no denying her kinship to this man.
"Hey," Tristan whispered softly as she took the picture from Sage, "you've got more important things to think about tonight. This lunatic is unreachable. Trust me; I tried to get to him a few years ago. No info goes in and no info gets out. He doesn’t even watch television. He just sits around in his boxers all day and half the night listening to Pablo Cruise."
Sage stared at Tristan with a mixture of horror and awe at the depth of knowledge the reporter had gathered about all the Sebastians.
"It's safe to put his picture in the other pile. He can't hurt anybody, Sage. He's just a crazy old man locked away from the world."
"Promise?"
"Yes."
Mr. Matthews was retrieving his cell phone from his suit coat pocket as the women spoke. He hit two numbers and waited, somewhat impatiently drumming his fingers on the table, for a connection.
"Todd? Yes, I want you to double check on Endicott. Somebody tried to make contact with him in the last thirty six months or so and I don't have a damn report about it. Toss his room! If he has cell or land line or computer access I want to know every single outgoing and incoming message made in the last six years," Matthews was growing flushed with his instructions. "And, God help everybody down if he got off the ground at any point. I don't care if it was only a three minute stroll to the corner for an ice cream cone with a full military police escort! Take care of this, immediately!"
Mr. Matthews snapped his phone shut without waiting for a reply. He took two deep breaths to calm himself but shook his head when it didn’t work. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small vial and shook a tiny white pill into his palm. He quickly placed it under his tongue.
"Oh cripes, do we need to call 911?" Tristan blurted out.
Chester didn't leave his spot by the monitors to shout over the answer, "Give him a minute. Let the Nitro do its job."
"Mr. Matthews why don't you sit…,"
He interrupted Sage to direct, "No, we're running behind schedule. Tristan, you're here with Chester. The minute you think you've got something pick up the red phone. It connects directly to me, Agent Rice, the FBI coordinator, and Detective Hollis, Boston PD. They'll be monitoring from the security office. It will go directly to conference call with my cell and we can discuss what you've got and if it is enough with which to move."
"I just have one question." Tristan waited for his nod of approval before asking, "Your security radios heard him threaten me so can't you do a voice comparison or something?"
"I wish it were that easy. Chester and I heard the threat but there was no recording device to capture it. And, the quality of the transmission was garbled. We did understand something about 'up the ass with a broom handle' and 'the boy dies.' It was barely enough to support a restraining order with just a little coaxing," Mr. Matthews allowed.
"So, I'm all you got to catch this guy?" Tristan didn't need to see his nod to know her answer.
The silence ensued until Mr. Matthew took a deep breath, "Sage, we have a dinner to get through. Ms. Ayer, we'll try to get the conversation rolling around enough to give an ample sampling of the suspects. If you take my arm, Sage, we'll be on our way."
"Be careful," Tristan whispered as she relinquished her grip on Sage.
Sage gave a reassuring smile, "Don't worry. In a couple of hours, this is all going be over. I promise."
"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," Tristan thought to herself as she watched the pair walk out the door.