Minnesota

 traces

Regina sat in the luxurious corner office that recently had been vacated by Mark. She kept staring at the hidden safe, fiddling with her phone. She wanted to be with Steve as he traced Mark’s steps. But she knew better than to nag Steve, begging him to take her with him. He had tracking to do and that brought him to dark places. Places he didn’t want Regina to be seen at. You’re the face of the company, you can’t be seen doing this. He’d tell her.

            But this is about my family. Regina thought, knowing it would only infuriate her partner even more. She sighed and shoved a pile of paper from left to right.

            “Boss?” A women’s voice, a knock at the office door.

            “Come in.” Regina said.

            Zee, a petite, multi-national, multi-cultural, woman in her forties, walked in. Dressed in her usual torn jeans, black sneakers and black T-Shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear a primary color. The black clothing paled her skin to the point of colorless. She had inherited her Nordic pale skin from her father. It stood in shocking contrast to her jet-black hair, inherited from her mother.

            Regina grimaced. “A personal visit instead of computer communication?” Zee didn’t like one-on-ones.

            Zee meandered toward the desk and fell into one of the chairs across Regina. “Yeah, we got to talk.” Zee didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“A couple of things; I got a charter flight ready, leaving St. Paul’s airport at ten tonight. Asher said he’ll pick him up personally.

            “Mark’s been given me shit about his passport.” Zee shoved a manila envelope across the desk. “So, here’s his back-up. Whoever escorts him should probably hang on to it or he’ll manage to lose it.”

            Regina inhaled sharply, fingers tapping the desk. How dare you talk about my nephew like that? But she knew better than to say anything to Zee. She’s good at what she does, but she doesn’t tolerate a lot of B.S.

            As if reading her thoughts, Zee raised an eyebrow. “I get it, he’s family, but let’s be realistic here. His carelessness could cost all of us life in prison. If we’re unfortunate enough to get caught in a first-world country.”

            Regina nodded. “We probably should send everyone to Asia or Mexico after this is cleaned up.”

            Zee laughed. “Paid vacation, I could go for it.”

            Regina leaned back into her chair, the leather softly creaking. “Who’s the escort?”

            “Steve wanted to do it, but that might create problems. You know how Mark hates him.” Regina had to agree. “Some of the tech we collected at the house and the office needs real work. I can drop Mark off and then fly to Asia. My tech headquarters there has all the equipment I need to get to the bottom of it.”

            Regina had to agree on this point as well. She watched the young woman, her short, cropped black hair, the black eyes, vividly looking at Regina.

            “There’s something else?”

            Zee grinned. “I’m sure there’s tech missing. Flying with him gives me time to quiz him.”

            “I’m guessing you’re all ready to go?”

Zee nodded. “Steve asked to be briefed on our new police liaison.” She frowned. “We haven’t really made contact with him.  He’s relatively new and this is big boy territory.”

“You got a better idea?”

“I listened to police chatter,” meaning Zee hacked into their computer system, Regina sighed, “and they think the girl killed Duane. I think we’re clear on this one. There’s no evidence on Mark, none.”

Regina tilted her head. “Recommendation being, not to burn resources?”

Zee nodded. But she stayed put. Normally, she’d dart out the moment the business was done. Something else. Regina braced herself.

“I haven’t told Steve this yet, mostly because I’d like more time to verify this.”

Oh boy.

“When cross-referencing Duane’s name, we came across chatter that indicates Duane might have been using our connections to do some personal business.” Zee exhaled, crossing her arms. “You know how our police escorts, when they alter records for us, they always send us the original and then file whatever we need them to?”

Regina’s blood pressure skyrocketed.

“I pulled all of it. It looks like Allen, our previous police escort for the Twin Cities, altered, and in some cases outright deleted, quite a few things for someone with the initials D.B., with Mark’s authorization codes. The records go back about two years. First Seattle, then Minneapolis, a couple of notes on States next door, South Dakota being one of them. All involving missing women.”

Regina gasped. South Dakota?  

“When we cleaned up Seattle, Mark said he accidentally killed the girl, that it was an allergic reaction to the narco-drug. I did some real-life checking with the Seattle crew. Turns out, Mark’s been paying them off to keep silent. They didn’t clean up the mess, like we told them to. Mark took care of the body, the witness, the payoffs. He and his friend.”

And looking at Zee’s expression, Regina knew who that friend was.

They’ve been killing together for years.