Free Michael by Aaron Patterson

you’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that. How dare you! You’re gonna try to tell me how it’s gonna be all of a sudden?”
    “Kim, it’s just not safe—”
    “How ‘bout shut up, Michael!” Her red hair swirled in a frenzy around her animated face. “If you think for one second that you have the right to tell me what to do, you’re freakin’ crazy!”
    “Kim,” I tried interjecting, “he kinda has a point here…”
    “What?!” she was furious. “Airel, how could you? Don’t you see what’s going on here? He’s trying to separate us. I’m trying to guard your back.”
    “What?” I was shocked. “What for?”
    “Seriously? You’re joking, right?”
    “Aw, Kim! I thought we’d been through this already…”
    “Ladies, please…”
    “Shut up, Michael!” Kim said. “After all you’ve done!”
    “Enough!” I said. “Kim, you’re crossing the line.” I glared at her.
    She glared back. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be.” She turned to get into the kidnapmobile. Over her shoulder she said, “But guess what, lovebirds! You’re stuck with little miss third wheel! Kimmy ain’t goin’ nowhere but wherever you two are. End of story.” She climbed in and slammed the door.
    “Michael…” I began.
    “I just think she’s really scared,” he said.
    “Uhm,” was all I could manage.
    “No big,” he said, grabbing my hands. “I should know better than to try to control Kim, but it was worth a shot.” He opened the passenger side door and he helped me up and in. “I’ve got you now.”
    Massive waves of déjà vu swept over me, and I couldn’t help but be transported back to our first date, that night, how he looked at me, how we had made such innocent plans, and how they had been so cleanly blasted away. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to start over, forget the past, move forward? He had compared me to Audrey Hepburn…! A smile crept into my heart and spread across my face as I came back from that moment. “Well, mister…are we going or not?”
    He smiled and nodded. Mr. Smooth was here. As he closed my door and walked around to the driver’s seat, I couldn’t help but imagine all kinds of delicious and fantastic things were destined to happen between us. But maybe that was just the irrational little girl speaking.

CHAPTER XII
     
    Boise, Idaho, present day
    “REID HERE,” GRETCHEN SAID as she picked up the phone. The voice on the other end belonged to an overworked Boise PD detective, and it didn’t take much to be able to tell. Gretchen Reid had been around the block long enough. She listened as the fatigued voice told her about a case he was handing off to her; BPD was basically asking the FBI field office for help. “This is a first,” she said.
    And it was a first. They usually saw her as a threat; they didn’t like to share, much less volunteer brand new cases. She told herself they hated her because she was young, feminine and attractive; that she headed up the local FBI field office. Part of her just loved rattling the local authorities any chance she got. Jurisdictional pissing contests, nine times out of ten, were won by the FBI.
    “Okay, secure fax me the docs and I’ll have a look. Meanwhile, I’m going to need the case file number at least, via email, so I can start my own file.” Gretchen nudged her new assistant and kept talking. “Okay, thanks, Detective Vukovic. Good day.” She hung up. Turning, she said, “All right, Harry. BPD is faxing us a new one.”
    “What is it?”
    “Missing persons.”
    “Cold case?”
    “No way. This one hasn’t even had time to get lukewarm.”
    “Really?”
    “Yep,” she said, bustling through the empty office toward the mailroom. She wore a gray pantsuit and short heels that hit the floor in little staccato cluck-clocks that struck terror into the hearts of every admin drone ever to have the misfortune to do a tour in the Boise Field Office: Special Agent Gretchen Reid’s domain and