Special Agent Maximilian (2 page)

Maya had no doubt at all that the man sitting across from her was not her partner. He didn’t have that same sly grin, or the habit of letting his gaze slide away when the subject got uncomfortable. This one looked her straight in the eye and never smiled at all.

Before she could follow up her confrontation, his narrow-eyed stare transferred to something happening behind her. A nasty male voice shouting about sloppy brats registered, next a fist hit the table, the sound loud and threatening. Then a woman’s voice pleading, “Sandi didn’t mean to spill it, Hank,” sunk in.

To her utter shock, Max, or whoever he was, flew from a sitting position to lunge across the room. His speed stunned her. When motivation demanded any excess energy, Maya knew her Max could move fast, but this guy was supersonic. One minute, he sat facing her and the next he was gripping the raised arm of a man two tables away.

Not being any slouch herself, she quickly followed and saw what was going down. Max’s double had a fat dude in a hold that denied him any leverage to fight back, while a little girl, no more than five years old, with spilled juice dripping from the front of her dress and down the table, became hysterical. The woman, who Maya presumed to be the child’s mother, looked frozen from fear.

Taking in the situation as she was trained to do, Maya crouched down so she could gather the little one close and calm her. Watching the struggle taking place between the two men, she motioned to the frozen woman to come to her and get away from the action that could erupt at any minute. Mind you, Max’s double seemed to be in complete control of the situation. Looking bored by the bullying antics the slimeball was trying to pull, he tightened his hold. Doing something amazing with the fingers of his right hand near the other man’s neck, she watched as the big bruiser slumped into unconsciousness.

Max’s double lowered the guy’s body onto a chair, leaning him against a pillar and positioning him to look as if he was napping. Then he picked up the other fallen chair before he turned toward the shaking woman still frozen in place, unable to move. He took her arm and guided her away from the rest of the crowd. With his head bent to listen, it was obvious that his gentle manner soothed her.

Maya couldn’t hear what was being said, but she saw him take a wad of money from his pocket, hold it out to the crying mom and wrap her fingers around it so she clutched it tightly.

She switched her attention to the sobbing child in her arms. “I hate Hank. He’s a big ol’ meanie.” Though the words were whispered, Maya heard them loud and clear.

“Is he your daddy?” Knowing that nowadays nothing could be taken for granted, she decided to get the information rather than chastising the girl.

“No! And I wished he didn’t live with us. He’s a big poopy-mouth, so there.” Sniffling, her face once again hidden in Maya’s neck, the almost-baby clung tight and began to wail loudly.

Hiding her grin, Maya rocked back and forth, trying to calm the child as best she could until the mother’s reaching hands came into view. Maya transferred the shaking little person into the arms of the still terrified, embarrassed woman. With eyes full of tears and something else that looked like hope, the mother hugged her darling close. Maya questioned, “Are you okay?”

Skinny and trembling, her blonde hair scraped back into a pony-tail that did her no justice, the mom smiled shakily and nodded. “I am now. Your man just gave me the means to escape, and Sandi and I will be free. We’ll go and gather our things from the trailer and be on the next bus before Hank can find us.” After she had spoken, she opened her fist to show a stack of bills that looked to be at least five hundred dollars.

Maya patted her shoulder and smiled. “I’ll hang here until the cops come and arrest Hank for disturbing the peace. By the time they get him to the station and take their time booking him, it should give you a few more hours to make your escape.”

“Bless you. That’ll really help. I’ll be able to properly quit my job and get the money owed before we leave.” The tears flowed steadily now. “I’ve been trapped for what seems like forever. I can’t believe we’ll soon be free.”

“We going to leave Hank, Mama?” Wet eyes glowing, the little doll patted her mother’s cheek to get her attention.

“Yes, baby. We’re going on a bus trip, just you and me.”

“Goody!”

Amazed how quickly a youngster’s tears could end when happiness flooded out fear, Maya shared their pleasure with a spontaneous hug that made the world brighter. Then, she kissed the baby cheek of the now excited and happy little angel. Looking at the mom, she added. “Good luck, honey. You get away from that idiot and find a nice place to settle down. Make sure it’s safe, and introduce yourself to the local police; let them know about this scum, and that you want a restraining order placed in case he finds you.”

Waving to Sandi as the two rushed away, Maya checked the sleeping fool to be sure he was still out cold and pulled her phone from her pocket. She scanned the restaurant for Max’s double. Last time she’d seen him, he’d been talking to the owner and soothing ruffled feathers. Now he was nowhere to be found.

“Aw, shit! Not again.”

Nik knew he shouldn’t have disappeared from the restaurant and left Maya to deal with everything, but he needed time to think. After all, before his capture, his twin brother Max had come to him for help and he’d promised to do whatever he could.

Unfortunately, the incident in the cafe had put the fear of God into Nik. He’d used every ounce of willpower he could dredge up not to damage that child-abusing bastard in a really bad way. Mind churning with fury, his hands had itched to leave lasting scars. Hearing the brutal manner the asshole had used with the little one had brought back memories best forgotten. Memories he couldn’t seem to push back into the niche in his head where they’d been stored for years.

As he walked, the military counselor’s warnings popped into his head. He’d been forced to retreat from active duty for the time being because of an injury and insomnia—most likely caused by a form of PTSD. Thinking back at how he, and a lot of his friends, had scoffed at the idea of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, thinking themselves immune, he shook his head at their insensitive stupidity.

What had the doc said? No anxieties or hassles! No alcohol and absolutely no drugs. Exercise, good food, lots of sleep; then the nightmares would fade and the panic would be more controllable.

Since he drank very little and never did drugs, or hadn’t since his misspent youth, that hadn’t been a problem for him. As far as the stress went—well, that seemed to be his biggest threat.

On the other hand, earlier, when he reacted to the circumstances at the restaurant, he hadn’t lost control. Tough as it had been, he’d stayed cool. Though his heart had taken a shit-kicking, much more than it used to when he’d been in dire situations, it hadn’t choked him or made him lose consciousness. Not like the last time.

Christ, if only he could beat this PTSD crap and get on with his life. Since he’d been on leave and left the Navy Seals in Iraq four months ago, he’d drifted, never feeling at peace, never knowing who he was and what he wanted. Traveling had seemed to be the answer. He’d started on the East coast, heading west until he’d stopped in New Orleans, a city that had grabbed hold and, for some strange reason, couldn’t be shaken loose.

Then he’d run into his twin brother.

What a hell of a shocker that was. Imagine being in a Starbucks, and having the replica of yourself ask if you were in line or just checking the menu. The disbelief still rippled through his body at the memory. Both men had been stunned.

“Holy shit, you look like me.” Max had started the conversation.

“Nope! You mean—you look like me.” Nik couldn’t resist the jibe and stiffened when he saw his lookalike’s sly grin and nod. He’d seen that same expression many times from his old man, usually before his fist flew.

“Have it your way, bro. But the resemblance is so strong, we could be twins.”

Interrupted by the barista, they each ordered the same drink—the Red Eye—and moved to the side to pick them up. While waiting, both examined the other until Max spoke. “It’s creepy in a way, seeing your double. I mean I’ve heard of this sort of thing happening, but I never thought it would to me.”

Nik took in Max’s FBI badge and his fancy duds and two seconds later he’d made up his mind. “Do you have a few minutes? I think we need to talk.”

Max’s eyebrows rose at the tone and his grin slipped. Then he shrugged. “Yeah! Sure. Wanna stay here?”

“It’s as good a place as any.” Nik picked up the first cup and handed it to Max, and then retrieved his own. He led them to a seat at the back of the restaurant.

Once Max had removed his suit jacket and placed it, folded neatly, on the empty chair, he pulled up his sleek pants, to accommodate him sitting, and leaned back confidently. “So… what’s your name?”

“Nik Baudin. Yours?”

“Max Baudin Foster.”

“Holy shit!” Shock washed over Nik, leaving him weak-kneed and dumbfounded. His ol’ man had mumbled through his drunken fits about another son, but Nik had put it down to the ramblings of an intoxicated idiot. After seeing Max at the counter and gauging how alike they were, he’d just had to know for sure. Now he did. The rioting going on inside his stomach didn’t bode well for him getting much sleep that night.

Max’s features had solidified, and Nik watched as a myriad of emotions fought for control. “Holy shit is right! We must be brothers.” He pulled out his phone and pushing one button, he arrogantly held up his finger to stop Nik from talking and waited.

Since Nik had nothing to say, he took a gulp from his favorite coffee instead and felt as if he’d choke. Pushing the cup away, a sour thought attacked.
Dammit, I’d been looking forward to that drink!

Surreptitiously, leaning over the table with his elbows on the chair arms, he intertwined his fingers using them to ram his stomach where vicious stabs of fire attacked. The forgotten lower back cramps returned with a vengeance. Using the techniques he’d learned from an old girlfriend who was a yoga instructor, he stretched slowly, inconspicuously, and exhaled; forcing his stomach muscles in, and then took a huge breath, filling his lungs. A few of these miraculous movements and peace returned to the irritated region. At least he didn’t feel as if his next move would be with his head in a toilet.

Without being able to stop himself, he explored the features of his lookalike and thought that it was rather a miracle. True, his brother’s shorter hair was slicked up in a style that the suits wore today, with the front shoved ridiculously high, as if any normal guy would want to look like he’d had a shock and his hair had gotten the worst of it. Pathetic! On the other hand, Max’s suit looked as if it had been made just for him: silky gray, slick, in a modern fashion, and fitting perfectly.

What got Nik the most was the blue tie Max was viciously loosening that matched the exact color of his eyes. For the first time Nik understood why women went so goofy over his own. They were mesmerizing; the depth of the blue surrounded by the black limbal ring around the iris drew you in and made it almost impossible to look away.

Max’s voice broke into his thoughts and one word blew his mind.

“Mom? We need to talk. Are you at home? I have someone here you should meet.” Max’s face hardened. “You don’t need your hair done. You keep putting that all that spray on and it’ll start falling out and you’ll go bald. I’ll be there shortly. And get prepared for a shock.” Max hung up the phone and stared at Nik. “You coming?” As if he were used to being in charge, he stood and grabbed his suit jacket viciously. Then he walked out as if he had no doubt whatsoever that his new-found brother would obey.

Mom?

Stunned by being treated so callously, so unlike the way he’d ever allowed anyone to treat him, Nik stood and followed. How could he not?
Mom!
For the first time in his life, he was going to meet his mother. The woman about whom his father had told him lies. “The bitch is dead and good riddance,” covered it about right.

Following Max to his silver Lexus CT, a showy vehicle which didn’t surprise Nik whatsoever, he got into the passenger seat and sat quietly, waiting for his brother to start a conversation.

“You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

“Could say the same for you. We’ve been driving ten minutes and you haven’t said a word.”

“I’ve been thinking about all the lies Mom has told me over the years. When I was a little boy, I wanted a brother because all the other kids had them. She said she couldn’t give me any brothers, and that there would always just be the two of us. It made her sad so I stopped asking.”

“Did she ever remarry? I know her and the old man
were
married because I found a wedding picture. When I showed it to him, he ripped it up and said that she’d died.” Nik didn’t use the exact words that had been used, but he remembered how they’d made him feel.
Hopeless!

Max’s head swiveled to Nik. “Hell, why would he lie to you and tear up a photo of her?”

Nik angled his head sideways and stared at Max. “You’re asking me about him? Hell, bro, they
both
lied. I guess she left him and I can’t say I blame her. He was a mean son-of-a-bitch.”

“Was?”

“Yeah. He was killed in a bar fight while I was on my last deployment. The way the boozer carried on, I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. I’d escaped the asshole at sixteen and hoped never to hear from him again. As his next of kin, they contacted me when I was overseas to inform me of his death, and about where to pick up his remains. Far as I’m concerned, they can keep him.”

“I’d like to have known him. I always wanted to have a dad.”

“No. You wouldn’t. He wasn’t a dad. He was a mean prick who liked nothing better than to see people squirm.”

“Still, she left him and I never got to meet him at all.”

Christ, man, you don’t know how lucky you were.
Before he could stop the words from escaping, Nik admitted, “You know it sounds weird, but there was always something missing. I’d find myself looking around at everyone…. Shit! I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.”

Max was listening. His head was cocked toward Nik in a familiar way that Nik recognized. He did the same thing himself when he concentrated on another person. But it seemed strange to see his lookalike using the identical mannerism.

“I know what you mean. As a young boy, I had dreams that there were two of me. I’d wake up crying and when I finally told my mom about them, she had a nervous breakdown. Cried for days. Scared the hell out of me. I never mentioned them again. They lasted until I started high school, and then they stopped.”

Max pulled into the driveway of a lovely historic-styled home in the French Quarter that screwed with the tempo of Nik’s heart. He recognized the place.
This is the house in my dreams.
It was a magnificent Victorian on Esplanade Avenue, with fancy arches and a black wrought-iron balcony running across the front on the upper floor. Baskets of flowering plants were scattered everywhere and added a nice touch.

To Nik, it looked like a palace. Compared to the dumps he’d lived in as a boy, it was paradise. “This is where your mom… our mom lives?”

“She inherited it from the aunt we moved in with. The old battle-axe let us live with her as long as Mom nursed her. Aunt Vi was a widow and had cancer. This house belonged to Vi’s husband’s family, but they’ve died out now. The only people she could leave it to were Mom and me. It probably killed her to do so—the old witch was a cheapskate—but she loved the house too much to see it go into a stranger’s hands. Thank God.”

Max got out of the car and started toward the back of the house, taking for granted that Nik would follow. He did, his eyes spellbound by the splendor of a house that he’d fallen in love with the first time he’d dreamed about it. As a boy, the only joy he’d ever felt was at night while fast asleep, dreaming of this house. It had been vague, true. But he’d recognized it instantly.

Inside, Max led him down a hallway full of antiques, the hardwood gleaming, and into a small sitting room. There sat a woman waiting, her back toward them. When she heard them enter, she turned and screamed.

Then she fainted.