Moving Target

As he got up to shake her hand, once again offering his slightly callused but warm palm, he nodded.

“I suppose he’ll tell you himself, if he sees reason to, so there’s no harm in me mentioning this.” His tone captivated Chesca and she made sure to drown out the sound of a nearby photocopier rallying to distract her senses with its repetitive output of paper. “Those last years he put in were indeed a struggle for him. Believe me, I worked day and night beside him, being mentored along the way. Something within him had changed. Whatever it was, it was eating at him long before he decided to call it quits.”

Through his forced smile, Chesca could see pain, maybe even regret. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Brighton. As you’ve said, he’ll likely bring that up himself if it’s relevant.”

Not yet letting go of her hand, the slightly robust man, equal in her height, made sure to meet Chesca’s eyes.

“Do understand, Miss Thorne, I respect that man. He never so much as hinted at any personal problems he may have experienced, and I never asked. I would prefer if you do not mention this little conversation we have had.”

“Certainly, sir. Not to worry.”

Following his lead out of the office and down the hallway back to the reception area, Chesca caught the scent of something earthy percolating. The receptionist was preparing a tea set complete with cookies and fruit.

“Give Miss Thorne the contact information for Mr. Schneider,” Brighton instructed of his attentive receptionist, then added, “I’ll take my tea now.”

Knowing that was her cue to receive the information quickly and make her way out of the office, Chesca respectfully thanked each of them for their time and made a polite exit so that Brighton could get on with his evidently important and likely ritualistic tea service.

As she crossed Commonwealth Avenue to head back to the parking lot off Granby, Chesca momentarily checked her watch. She had been less than an hour with Brighton. Not bad. With the majority of the day left to her disposal she would be able to get a number of leads taken care of, and hopefully make some diligent progress on her assignment.

Or so she thought.

Chesca slowed her steps when she approached the rental car.

She could hardly believe it, given the short amount of time she had spent in the campus building.

From her stance directly in front of the car, it was clear someone had keyed the body on each side. Lines tracing the length of the automobile were etched deeply into the no longer fresh red paint.

When she noticed the tires were also gashed and flattened, she scooted down to the pavement and checked the undercarriage for anything to suggest further foul play.

Satisfied, but with more damage than she would have liked to have seen, Chesca let out a heavy sigh. Her day would evidently not be as cut-and-dried as she had hoped.

Now, added to her tasks, she would have to replace the rental car—and apologize profusely to the company, though fortunately she had insured the car against such predicaments—and due to the nature of the damage, it seemed Chesca would also be making a friendly stop at the local police precinct.

Once the quick and necessary phone calls were made to each, Chesca took a moment to sit on a concrete parking slab and rest her head in her hands, digging her elbows into her lap.

As she sat there, letting her temper at this inconvenience subside, she allowed a few moments to pass before she was able to admit the inevitable.

This was no coincidence.

It was not random.

Someone was trying to send a message.

As she carefully scanned the area, taking note of the passersby and being on the lookout for anything suspicious, Chesca hated the sinking feeling in her gut.

Despite only getting started, she knew without a doubt she couldn’t hide this bit of information from Delphi. She would have to disclose what had happened, seeing how she had been warned more than once of the sensitivity of this case and the potential for risk.

Bethany had done her part in advising Chesca to watch her back, and now Chesca knew it was something she needed to seriously keep in mind. Those who had secrets to keep would do just about anything to keep them.

While Chesca was handy with a pistol and trained in martial arts, she wasn’t cocky enough to assume she could handle anything and everything without at least clueing in her counterparts. It was her responsibility to Oracle to keep the agency abreast of how the case was going, whether there was reason to be alarmed or not.

Knowing her commitment to the case, Chesca sent a quick text message to Delphi informing her of the incident. She hoped to goodness it didn’t come off as too quick for a mishap to happen, that something like this wouldn’t have happened to someone else. But Chesca shook her head, reminding herself no matter who was on this case, if someone wanted to shut it down, they wouldn’t be picky about their target.

It was rare for Chesca to get a call back on her cell phone, but within minutes Delphi was on the line. “You may want to consider finding another place to stay,” the enigmatic voice said, no doubt using a disposable and untraceable mobile. “Double-check the hotel, but not until you have backup.”

“Backup?” Chesca echoed, thinking she hadn’t meant to come off as so needy.

With the nature of her job being mostly mental, Chesca had become accustomed to working on her own for the majority of a case, especially during the legwork. Only when she was out on the prowl for a suspect would she have someone tag along with her.

Then, as she thought about it, reflecting on all that she had learned about Giambi, Arachne and the Queen of Hearts personae, Chesca knew she had to swallow her pride. She was, in fact, working on a case that had already seen enough violence and danger in recent months, and she knew when to give in and just follow orders.

“No arguing. In the meantime,” Delphi said, “keep me posted as to any other updates, so I can make sure to send the courier to the right place at a good time, okay?”

“Not a problem. May I ask, though, who this backup will be?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it just yet,” Delphi said. “What are your plans now? What’s your destination?”

Chesca thought about it.

By the time the car company sent a representative to take care of this and exchange her car, and the police showed up to take a report, Chesca would be losing some much needed time. But she knew there was one thing she could handle without a babysitter.

“I’ll be speaking with Schneider. Brighton gave me a lead on his predecessor in computer sciences,” Chesca said, giving Delphi his address. “Then I’ll be making a stop to chat with the local cops, if that makes sense to you.”

Delphi agreed. “That should finish off your day. You’ll have your partner by tomorrow. You have any idea where you’ll be staying tonight?”

Chesca gritted her teeth.

She didn’t want to argue with Delphi. As per her request, she wouldn’t be returning to the hotel room until she could clear it with the assistance of whoever Oracle would be sending her way. And there was little point in checking into another hotel if the risk would be just about the same in Delphi’s eyes.

She hated the idea of it.

It made her skin itch.

But what choice did she have?

“Yeah,” Chesca said, grudgingly, before sharing the all-too-familiar address. Though she wasn’t looking forward to the unplanned visit, Chesca knew one place with more security than Fort Knox to its credit. It would be the safest location for the short term. “I’ll be staying with my parents.”

Chapter 5

She should have known there was no way to avoid the inevitable.

Despite ignoring a serious handful of recent messages from her mother, Chesca kept trying to convince herself she didn’t return the calls simply due to her busy nature at work, being assigned to the case in Baton Rouge, this, that…and just about every excuse in the book.

They were all excuses. She was just trying to avoid the same old conversation.

Though now that she was in her hometown, and clearly in need of a safe place to stay, there was no use in pretending she could get around a family visit. Sad that a forced opportunity had to be created to bring her back in touch with the Thorne mansion.

If Chesca had it her way, there would have been an abundance of reasons she would want to revisit her youthful home. But, sometimes life didn’t work out how we wanted.

“I have been leaving you message after message, young lady. The least you could have done was let me know you were all right and not lying dead somewhere in the street.” The stern voice of Abigail Thorne was coated in the same superficial sweetness Chesca had come to know as a child.

Even when being scorned by her mother’s words, the actual tone came off as welcoming praise. The words “I am very disappointed in you” could have easily been exchanged with “this pâté de foie gras is positively sinful” on more than one occasion. It was an effect of her mother’s Chesca had come to loathe, but expect.

No matter if she was being disciplined or praised, neither parent in the Thorne family fluctuated their tone with emotion. It wasn’t their way, her mother would say, as though that was something to be proud of.

While Chesca said, “I was on a case, Mother. I’m calling you now, aren’t I?” She double-checked the address Brighton had given her. She had found the location easily enough, with her memory never fully removed from the familiarity of her hometown landscape.

The rental car had been substituted within thirty minutes, which pleased Chesca. She didn’t quite know what to expect, or how the company would take it considering the condition of the car she was trading back to them. Luckily, they were accommodating, swift with courteous service, and shrugged off the incident as all in a day’s work.

The street cops who checked out the damaged rental were just as quick. A simple report was all that was needed, and anything further Chesca wanted to inquire about would be best handled at the precinct, so overall she lost very little time in her day after such an inconvenience.

She had to keep reminding herself that hers was not the first car that had been tampered with in the history of Athena women digging into the mystery of Arachne. And it likely wouldn’t be the last.

“Never mind that, Francesca. I’m terribly disappointed,” her mother carried on. “You missed the brunch I hosted for the foundation stewards. Though I wonder if it is too much to ask that you do not miss the annual gala?”

Chesca let out a groan, wanting to kick herself for not remembering. Along with extra sunshine, April brought the annual Thorne Family Foundation fund-raising gala. She should have known she’d be the recipient of a not-so-gentle reminder of the upcoming event.

It was a pet project of Abigail’s, touted to support whichever newsworthy charity struck her short-lived interest.

Each year there was somehow a more tragic or endearing cause the foundation rallied for, though the lack of sincerity behind the project always left Chesca feeling disenchanted. She knew it was just an excuse for her mother to host pretentious social gatherings and wave around her clout amongst fellow blue bloods.

She also knew she had an unspoken responsibility to attend at least two events per year, representing the next generation of Thornes. Unspoken, but never forgotten in the eyes of her parents.

Francesca had been a disappointment to socialites Abigail and Dorian. Her parents were of discerning blood, she was often told, who had risen to a certain status amongst their well-to-do crowd. It simply wasn’t anything Chesca wanted to be a part of. And the notion that she wouldn’t be carrying on some of the most well-established family traditions was interpreted as a slap in the face, especially to her father.

It was no secret her parents had hoped for a male child, someone to be a proper heir to the family legacies and leave a healthy dose of offspring as namesakes. Unwilling to be matched up using the sole criteria of money, Chesca simply didn’t know how to play by the family rules.

Once her parents accepted this fact, however, they made it quite simple for everyone to get along. Francesca was to put on her party face at least twice annually, to pay respects to the community as part of the Thorne family, and in return she would have her pick of extracurricular activities and academics to choose from.

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