Tangled

Chapter 5 - Bad Guy

~Dylan~

“Two girls have gone missing this past week in the city of Denver and the Denver PD have pinned two different suspects in these cases. Extensive search…”

“Wow. That’s two girls in two weeks. Crazy!” Aiden whispers as both of us stare at the TV stationed at the department. It’s been a relatively chill week at New York and I am grateful for it, despite being bored most of the time. An idle mind certainly is the devil’s workshop. Everything I see on the news looks shady and fed attention-worthy.

“Yeah, it could be a serial. I don’t know why it’s being treated as separate cases.” 

Aiden looks at me pointedly, “This is not a movie, Dyl. Missing cases could just be two missing people. The first girl was kidn*pped by her own ex-boyfriend and the second girl is some workplace deal. We don’t have any evidence suggesting it is a serial.”

I shrug, getting back to look at old, unsolved cases. “Sure. But there is no evidence that convicts the ex-partner and the colleague either. It’s circumstantial. Maybe the police just don’t want to consider a serial because then the case gets tough.”

“Foley, I swear you think you’re Sherlock Holmes sometimes!” Aiden jokes, before getting back to his own work, leaving me to my own thoughts. Now, that is definitely not a good idea and so I try to focus on the old case file.

“Foley!” I turn at my name being auctioned from the across the department when my colleague continues, “Someone’s here looking for you!”

I frown because, no one, I mean no one comes looking for me. In my long efforts with the FBI and Organized Crimes, the only time I have been looked for is when Cami had come looking for Aiden and when Amy had thought that I could help look for her friend’s husband who had left the house after a fight. Nobody really comes to the FBI office. Pushing myself off my work chair, I walk in the direction at which this person who is looking for me is supposedly waiting.

Did they mean Fisher and not Foley?

When I turn the corner, I see the last face I had expected to see.

It’s her.

~Maeve~

The shutting of the door reverberates so hard through my apartment that it makes me wanna yell at the person who had done it. I keep quiet anyway because I know it’s Freya.

“Frey! Can you keep it down, please? A person is sleeping here!”

My room’s door flings open, with her clearly paying no heed to my request and a panicked Freya stands there, gasping for air in her work out clothes. She’s perspiring like she had run a marathon and her eyes are wide in anxiety and terror. Groggily, I try to wipe the sleep off my eyes, hoping to be awake enough to address her problem, because she certainly seems to have one, a big one from the look of her face. Her eyes look like they are going to pop, she’s sweating profusely making her otherwise perfect hair stick to her face and she looks afraid. Sitting up, I signal her to sit on my bed, offering her a glass of water.

“What’s going on, Frey?” I enquire.

It takes her a minute or two to pacify herself and she finally spills the beans, “They are after us.”

That’s specific. Baffled by her ambiguous statement, I decide to prod, “They? Who they?”

“Them. The gang people from Bob’s. They- I… someone kept following me when I went jogging in the part and I- I came to your place and then realized it’s them. It’s the same guy. They’re out. Didn’t the detective arrest them? What-” She’s shallow breathing and her eyes are unfocused.

“Frey!” Alarmed, she simply continues to repeat what she’s said and I call her name out louder to stop her from her monologue.

“FREYA!” She finally comes back to reality and looks at me, like a deer caught in headlights. I put my hand up, slowly, before carefully resting it on her shoulder so as to not freak her out.

“You’re okay. You are fine. Breathe.”

“They followed me all the way here! They know where you are. I shouldn’t have-”

I pull her into a hug, reassuring her, “Nope. I’m glad you’re here, okay? We will find a way. We should, yeah?”

I jump out of my bed, pulling the blinds slightly to take a look at the street in front of my building. There, indeed, they stand. One of them even has the guts to look up and smirk, making me shut the curtain. My mind is wandering with different thoughts but one sticks out the most.

How f****d are we, really?

~

Two days roll in and these people don’t seem to be leaving.

“Noah! Yes, I am okay. I am just staying in with Freya.  No, she’s sick! Lanky, stop annoying me! No, you cannot come here. No, there is nothing shady. You’ll fall sick! Yeah, I am. See you!”

I huff in relief. Sometimes, a best friend is a liability.

“Was that Noah?” Freya asks, meekly peeping from the bathroom, wearing one of my bathrobes.

I nod. “He’s threatening to come over. I- he cannot be dragged into this,” I say, running my hands through my tresses. “Like what the f**k do these guys want,” I cry and in momentary frustration, I grab the glass of water next to me, smashing it against the wall.

Freya jumps in surprise before running over to me and hugging me. “I am sorry. It is my fault. I shouldn’t have come here when I realized they are following me. I am sorry, Mae!”

Counting from one to ten, I take a deep breath.  “We didn’t do anything wrong, for f**k’s sake. We didn’t take this to the police either. They happened to be there. Why are they behind us?”

Freya just rests her cheek on my shoulder, “I don’t know. I want them gone.”

Wrapping my hands around her. “Yeah.”

After an extended pause, she seems to find her voice and she asks, “Did Noah ask for me?”

No.

“Yeah. He asked you to take care.”

Feeling her smile against me, I pat her, slowly pulling her away. Flashbulb goes ding over my head and I say, “I think, I’ve got an idea.”

~Dylan~

“Hi!” She softly says, waving her hand awkwardly. She’s looking tired, her eyes less bright and smaller with dark circles around it. Her short hair is in a ponytail and she’s dressed in sweats but nothing about her screams, relaxed. Whatever it is, it had been enough to bring her to the f*****g feds. To me.

“How can I help you, miss?” I ask, inching closer to her and for once she’s holding her place and looking me square in the eye. “Or were you looking for someone else?”

She shakes her head. “Foley, right? Agent Foley?”

I affirm her idea with a nod. “Yeah. Listen, you don’t have to create a scene. You shouldn’t even be here. I know. I know, I came off wrong the other night but-”

“No, No. Actually, I- I am here for a favour. It’s not FBI or Organized Crime status, but you are the only one I know from the law enforcement. I also know that my past behaviour towards you doesn’t exactly warrant any favours from your side, but I really do need help.”

I blink in confusion. She needs my favour? What?

“Sure,” I encourage her, leaning against the wall, my arms crossed in front of my chest. “What is it?”

“You remember the guys from the night in the bar? They didn’t get much jail-time, clearly. They’re out,” she informs me, looking at me like she’s asking me if I had known about it.

“Yeah. Rowan told me they were bailed out. Guess, they’re not as uninfluential as a gang as I thought they were. Is there a problem?”

“Freya and I being stalked. They are outside my apartment.”

This alerts me and I move, standing upright. “What? You saw them outside your apartment?”

The brunette nods, pulling her phone out to show me pictures. “They followed Freya when she was out for a jog. It’s the guy who took a swing at you. He had one other person with him. Freya’s freaking out. We haven’t been able to go to college because we are scared. I snuck out of my back entrance that not many people know about to come here.”

“How long have they been camping outside your place?” I question, taking a closer look at the picture, my shoulder brushing across hers lightly.

“Two days.” She answers, biting her lips in embarrassment. Before I could chide her for not informing the police immediately she says, “I know, I know. I should’ve come earlier. I just, it was stressful and I couldn’t think straight.”

I see a completely different person, it’s almost as if I am speaking to someone new. Is this how she’s with others or is this how she is with me because she needs my favour?

“Come on! I’ll see what I can do!”

Agent Elliot had seemed iffy about the entire situation but given that I had gotten myself involved at the bar and seeing that I am not going to let it go, he agrees to station some guards outside Maeve’s apartment building. I walk out of the cabin only to come face to face with an anxious Maeve. She stops walking around, restlessly and quizzes, “So?”

“We are gonna have a guard stationed at your place until I collect some dirt on them. Works?”

“Yeah. I don’t care about what you do, really! I just want them off my building entrance and preferably out of my life as well,” she speaks with conviction and I nod. She nods in return. “Thanks, detective. I owe you. Also, thank you for that night. I wasn’t in the best of my behaviour, but I am grateful to you for intervening.”

I don’t say anything as we walk together towards the entrance of the Bureau building when I two-finger salute her. “I’ll keep you posted?”

“Sure,” she answers, smiling lightly. “I’ve left behind contact details with your friend, Agent Bryant. Thanks, really!”

I shake my head vigorously. “Actually, I owe you. An apology.” She looks surprised like she hadn’t expected me to bring it up. I hadn’t been planning on it, but it feels right to do it.

“I’m sorry for that day. I was chasing a thief. I wanted to apologise right away but he already had a head start on me, so I had to run. I really am sorry if that painting meant a lot to you. I am sure it was beautiful,” I sincerely say, hoping that she will accept it.

“Okay. Yeah, alright. Thanks for apologising,” she says awkwardly, clearly unprepared for this conversation. It feels good, regardless.

I nod, again, shoving my hands into my pockets. I back walk, watching as she walks away. I don’t know if it’s sudden courage, a rush of adrenaline or something else because I call her, “Hey!”

She turns around, letting the soft morning winds caress her brown hair. “Yes. Anything else?”

She’s so sophisticated and hardly looks her age, with the way she speaks and gracefully walks. She’s almost different from the sassy person I had encountered in the bar. Does alcohol do that to her? I am having severe dissonance in my mental image of her.

“Sure. How about a name?”

Seems like I have been surprising her way too often today. However, she takes me by surprise when she obliges and says, “Maeve. Maeve Markey.”

Maeve.

That’s her name.

She stands there waiting for me to respond and I just smile, “Okay, Ms. Markey. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Call me Maeve. Also, thanks!” she gives me one last, crooked smile and jogs off to the nearest bus station.

~

It takes me a while, meaning three days to figure out the gang these guys are from. Took me more than fifteen calls to colleagues across precincts and departments, looking for any connection between crimes within the area and these guys who are behind Maeve and her friend. I am able to come up with a sketch of the tattoo that peeps through the necks and sleeves of these men, finally being able to associate them with a small drug circle called, Falconn. These boys happen to be low-level workers who broker deals with dealers and are likely to go collect a shipment today, from the farthest port of New York. I just need to threaten them a bit before these guys get bailed off by their fancy-ass attorney given that I do have some evidence for past assault cases and the biggest cake of them all, how one of them is a mole for another rival gang. I don’t think they’d want harsh death, anyway and are likely to comply to my small request. Of course, nobody has to know any of this until their safety is a guarantee. It’s unethical, sure, but you got to do what you got to do.

Meanwhile, I also work towards getting a restraining order against these idiots as a precautionary measure, all the while thinking why I am going out of my way to help this girl, who until a while ago had given me the stink eye. Aiden keeps bugging me with his cheeky comments and I am one comment away from punching him in the nose but Aiden being Aiden, knows how to push and pull, then quit before getting whacked. I quickly plan on the seizing of goods for that night, hoping that all will go well. Agent Elliot approves of my plan and helps me get some contacts in the port security team to ensure a safe ambush although he repeatedly comments about how this isn’t exactly our job. We’re more of a blood and bodies kinda department.

Aiden and I walk slowly towards the warehouse, where the Falconn men are currently loading their goods and I slowly countdown to ten through my in-ear to all my colleagues who are working on rounding the place to make it escape-proof.

“In three, two, one. Go!”

The ambush is a success and I have the stalker boys in the room. The plan pans out exactly like I wanted to and one of them spills the beans about being the mole. He goes on to give more information for a deal with a district attorney along with agreeing to leave Maeve and her friend Freya, alone. I pass the information, I had gotten to the relevant officials who will take it from there. Mission accomplished.

~

It’s funny how to plan an ambush is easier for me than making a call to tell her, it’s been sorted. She had come looking for me, not the other way around, so I guess, it’s okay to call.

The call rings twice before I hear a tentative, “Hello?”

“Miss Markey? Dylan here!”

There is silence on the other end, leaving me slightly uncertain. Did I do the wrong thing?

“Sorry, who?”

Almost hurt, I suddenly realise my mistake. She does not know a Dylan.

“This is Agent Dylan Foley, FBI!” I correct myself, only to hear a feeble ‘oh’.

“Agent Foley, yes! Hi!” she finally, says.

“Your problem has been sorted. They are currently imprisoned and I’ve gotten a restraining order in place with help from a lawyer friend of mine. You can collect documentation from me when you feel like it and I have mailed you a soft copy, just in case. Does that work?”

“Yes! Oh my god. Yes! Thank you so much, agent!”

Her joy brings a smile to my face and I respond, “I owed you!” I hear some shifting before she talks, “It’s forgiven, sir. You were helping the citizens after all. I think I owe you.”

I chuckle, “There is no need. I am glad I could help. Let me know if you ever get into trouble. Even if it is not FBI status.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll remember you.”