Bazel smiled back. “And I will again.”
“YOU FIND?”Bazel asked after a while, wandering into the office where they were all hovering over the desk. Bazel had gotten tired of waiting for them to be done. Evie had curled up next to him, and he had petted her until his patience had run out. “What you see?”
“The man who came into the yard the other day and the one who broke in tonight. He tried to hide his face, but I got a good picture of him.” Atlas seemed pleased. He turned the screen. “Have you ever seen him before?”
Bazel took a step closer and shivered. “He on boat with us. He the man who give us water and food. I think he nice and help us.” Bazel felt the world shift under his feet. Maybe no one had really cared. Maybe they only fed them and gave them water so they would arrive alive. Then they would take them to the city to sell.
“He was just keeping you alive because you had value,” Wyatt explained. “I’m sorry. But did you see anything or hear him say anything?”
“I don’t know. There were men with him sometimes, and they talk all the time. Never stop. But I not always hear them.”
“What did they talk about?”
“Women, lots and lots of women. Cassie, Mary Beth, Catrina, sometimes someone they call White Witch. I not know what they mean. Just that they want to ride them as far as they can. What that mean?” Bazel asked.
“And he didn’t know you understood them?” Atlas asked, and Bazel shook his head.
“I never talk English. I speak Georgian and Russian to women and to men. I jabber like monkey all the time. That what they call us. Monkeys.” He lowered his gaze.
“Do you know his name?”
“They call him Breaker. I know that fake name, but that what they say. I never hear real name. I sorry.” He looked at the picture on the screen again. “Man on ship, the one I see, he no have what you call tattoos. He do.”
“Are you sure it’s the same person?” Atlas asked. “Those are not fresh tattoos. They’re healed.” He went through the moving pictures. “It isn’t like he could get that kind of work done in a few days anyway. That takes a long time in the chair.”
“They same. Look at nose and mouth. They same as man on ship. I know it. Wait, he wear glove on ship. I not see hand.”
Atlas turned to the other police. “Maybe the tattoo was relatively new. Being on a ship, it would be exposed to salt water and plenty of things that could cause infection. What if he got the tattoos in the past few weeks and needed to make sure they didn’t get messed up? So he wore a glove when on the ship. It was a tanker and wouldn’t exactly be clean.”
“What does that get us?”
“See if you can get an enlargement of the artwork. Some of these guys are real artists, and we may be able to get an idea where he had the work done.”
“It isn’t likely the guy is from here,” Wyatt said. “He didn’t even know he was breaking into the house of a cop. If he had done his homework, he would have been able to get that information pretty easily, especially if he was local.” He stepped back. “I’m going to forward everything we have to the feds. Let them do some of the legwork and see what they come up with.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What I want to know is what he wanted.”
“Me,” Bazel said. “He have to want me. I see him on the ship coming here. Maybe he think I hear something or see something.”
“Can you draw?” Atlas asked.
“Like pictures? No. Why?”
“Okay. Then think about the times he opened the door. It was dark, you said, but he opened it and gave you food and water. Was there anything you might have seen while the door was open?” Atlas asked. But Bazel could think of nothing.
“All I think about when door open was fresh air and lack of stink. I breathe hard and….” He paused as something flashed into his mind. “Wait. I remember. It was on third day. Maybe four day. Not sure. “He open door, and I ask to wash. I did it in Georgian but motioned what I want. He get mad, but then closed the door. I think he angry, but then he bring buckets of water and cloth. It cold, but I give one to women and use the other to wash. I feel clean. He not close the door right away, but I hear one of other men say that Juarez will not be happy. Breaker say that he be less happy if we stink and not good for anything.” Then he close up door and leave us alone.”
“That’s good.”
Bazel left the room and then raced back. “But wait. I remember. Buckets. They old, metal, and say Wicked Lady on them, and it have picture of woman.”
Atlas turned to Wyatt and began typing at the computer. “I thought it was strange. TheAzerbaijani Staris a ship, but it hasn’t left Asia. Now I get it. They told you the wrong ship so that it would throw anyone off. But the buckets had the real ship name. TheWicked Ladywas in Miami last week and left two days ago for Europe. What do you want to bet that before she gets there, she makes an unscheduled stop somewhere on the Black Sea? A day or two to pick up some lucrative cargo, and then she’s back on her route and once again headed to the US.”Atlas hugged him, and Bazel didn’t quite know what to do. “You did really good remembering all that.” He grinned, and Bazel’s belly did that fluttery thing again.
BAZEL FINISHEDhis tea and went upstairs to bed. The others stayed downstairs talking for a while. Eventually Atlas came up, turning out the lights. Bazel rolled over, facing the wall as he tried to understand his feelings. He knew when they happened, but not what they meant. And that fluttery feeling in his belly hadn’t gone away, so maybe he was getting sick.
Evie came in and sat beside the bed. He rolled over and gently petted her, appreciating that she was there. Once he yawned she left the room, probably going to sleep in her usual spot with Atlas.
Then his thoughts shifted, and Bazel slid farther under the covers. The man who broke into the house, the same one from earlier, was after him. He hadn’t done anything other than get rescued from the back of a truck, from the hell he and all the people with him were going through. “I no deserve this,” he said out loud, and then put his hand over his lips because he hadn’t meant to make a sound.
“No, you don’t,” Atlas said from the doorway a moment later. He had these clingy shorts things on and nothing else. Bazel knew he should turn away, but he couldn’t because Atlas was… strong, and he made Bazel’s heart beat hard and fast. When his body reacted, Bazel shifted so Atlas couldn’t see. Still, Atlas’s chest was full and prominent, with hair across it, and his belly had lines that led to his shorts. He was a man, the best kind of man, and for a second, Bazel let his mind take a fantasy journey of touch and smell and taste before sliding back under the covers. “I will keep you safe. We have put a bulletin out to thehospitals for anyone coming in with dog-bite injuries. He’s going to need help, and when he asks for it, we will find him.”
