Blood Secrets - By Jeannie Holmes Page 0,6
for you?”
“Don’t be a dick, Caleb, and stop trying to change the subject.” She moved to the table and poured another round of bourbon. “I’m not going to let you take Maya.”
“I’m not taking her, Tasha. I’ve already got her. This is her decision. I’m just trying to do what’s best for her.”
“What’s best is for her to spend time with her mother.” She gulped down the bourbon. “Not some wannabe stepmother floozy she barely knows.”
Silence consumed the line, and Tasha quietly cursed herself. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have—”
“I have to get ready for work,” he interjected.
“Caleb—”
“Good-bye, Tasha.”
The line clicked closed before she could respond. She returned the cordless handset to its cradle and sucked in a deep breath.
Caleb had been her first love. She was a high-school junior and he was a college freshman. After dating for three years, they married, and she joined the Jefferson Police Department while he worked full-time on his law degree. She enrolled in night classes and studied criminal justice. Maya was born a few years later. Life had been hard but good.
For a while.
Tasha first began drinking to relax from the rigors of working as a patrol officer. It was no big deal to have a few beers with her fellow officers after a shift. However, Tasha soon found herself sneaking shots before her shifts and then during. She told herself it wasn’t a problem, that everyone had their ways of coping. She rationalized it by saying she risked her life and deserved a little liquid compensation once in a while. No harm and no foul so long as no one saw her and the bad guys were going to jail.
Then Tasha’s drinking caught up with her a few months after she earned her detective’s badge. She failed to report for an important court date. The police chief wanted her fired on the spot. Caleb convinced the chief to place her on administrative leave, and she entered a treatment program.
When she returned from rehab, Caleb and three-year-old Maya were gone and divorce papers left in their stead. Tasha was devastated but didn’t fight Caleb’s demands for primary custody of their daughter. She was newly out of treatment, struggling to deal with her addiction and still maintain her job as a police officer. Maya was happy and well cared for with Caleb. The court awarded Tasha visitations once a month, every other major holiday, and four weeks during the summer.
That was ten years ago. Why was Caleb now seeking sole custody? Tasha glanced at the empty bourbon glass on the table. Did he know about her relapse? About her violating the chain of evidence?
The phone rang again and she jumped. She picked up the receiver.
“Listen very carefully,” a familiar distorted electronic voice droned. “We will say this only once.”
“Who is this?”
“We know you are in danger of losing your daughter.”
Tasha glanced at the cordless phone base and then to the narrow window overlooking a small backyard. “How do you know that?”
“That is unimportant. We can assist you.”
“Help me? How? Why?”
“Again, that is unimportant. If you want to see your daughter, you will follow our instructions.”
She hesitated and then sighed, slumping against the kitchen wall. “What do you want from me?”
“You are assisting the vampires in their search for Mindy Johnson.”
“I’m assigned to the task force, yes.”
“You will gather information on the one called Sabian.”
“Alex? But she’s on suspension.”
“Vampire Sabian was reinstated to full active duty status as of oh-six-twenty-seven this morning.”
Tasha’s head spun. “You want me to spy on a federal agent?”
“You will gather information on Sabian. Observe her behavior. Make a record of what she says and does.”
“I don’t understand why—”
“Understanding is not required. You will also retrieve Mindy Johnson’s journal and keep it safe until further notice.”
“Why do you want Mindy’s journal?”
“We will be in touch.”
“Wait!”
The line clicked three times and then switched to the monotone hum of a dial tone.
“Damn it!” Tasha jammed the handset into the cradle and it beeped in annoyance. She knew better than to check the caller ID logs. It would only show an unnamed caller and no number.
The same was true of trying to trace the call. She’d had similar calls during the Darryl Black investigation, including one instructing her to compromise the chain of evidence. Her conscience had eventually gotten the better of her, and she’d confessed her transgression to Varik. She could still hear his threat in her mind as clear as if he stood in the room with her.
If anything happens