Scarlet Guard (House of Scarlet #2)

"Well, there's always the big bang theory in physics. If you don't know anything about that I'm willing to at least listen while you make up stuff." Callie shoved the burrito into her mouth as her brother shook his head and sighed.

That night Callie couldn't sleep. The red cards bothered her. The fact that her brother had one really bothered her. The fact that the only other red card she knew of was from a dead guy that no one recognized bothered her. Not even the cops knew who he was. You'd think that they'd at least be able to get his name from his fingerprints. If he had fingers. Howell didn't say if the body was mutilated or not. The tattoo picture was a close up. No details other than the ink. The whole thing stressed her out.

Callie tossed and turned until she'd twisted her pajamas so tightly around her body she almost couldn't breathe. Eventually she gave in. Turning on the light on her bedside table she sat up on the edge of her bed. She looked at the phone on the table. She sighed softly to herself.

Straightening her PJ's first, she took the phone off the cradle. She dialed the number from the card. It was easy. With her memory she would always know that number by heart.

The number rang once. A click sounded once. Dead silence on the other end after that. Callie took a deep breath and plunged.

"My name is Callie Mee. I found a red card with this number on it."

"Yes?" The voice on the other end was soft.

"My brother has another card like the one I found. I want to know if he is in trouble. I need to know if he is ok. That he isn't going to go to jail. Or be killed. Or worse. Please tell me he's not in any trouble."

"Did you find a card? Or were you shown a card?"

Callies mind froze. They knew.

"By the police?" The soft voice on the phone unraveled her lie.

There was no help for it now. "Yes. The police showed it to me. They got it from someone who died. I don't know how he died. The police don't know who he is. Please, please. Tell me my brother isn't going to die too. Please."

There was no answer. The line went dead shortly thereafter. When Callie tried to call back she got the 'no longer in service' recording. Just like Howell.

Putting the phone back on it's cradle Callie drew up her knees leaning against the headboard of her bed. Hugging her pillow she stared unseeing into the darkness over what she had just done.

The next morning Callie went to her studio. T Rose took one look at her, alarm flashing across her face.

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night. I'm fine."

"You do not look fine. You look horrible. What happened?"

"I told you. Nothing. I left yesterday, Henry did my hair, I taught my class, I went home, ate dinner, went to bed. You'd have known that if you'd been home instead of being out all night. I just couldn't sleep."

"That's it? You're not lying?" T Rose skipped the whole 'all night' issue. Callie knew that Rose dated. A lot.

"That's it. The truth."

"Well, you don't have anything scheduled for today. At least we don't have to call anyone to tell them not to come in. You're not doing any walk-ins though. You look like hell. You'd scare the customers away."

"I told you. I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well."

T Rose turned Callie toward the mirror on the wall. "Sis. Take a look. Tell me you're fine."

Callie didn't need to look at her image in the mirror. She already knew what she'd see. Rose was right. She did look like hell. Worry about Henry and the red cards had drained her. The loss of sleep had taken her physical and mental reserves with it. Even her normally steady hands were trembling. Whether from fatigue or nerves she didn't know, she just knew that she was a wreck. She also hadn't realized how easily her sister would see it.

"So, stop lying. Tell me what happened. Was it a cute guy? Mom would like it if it was a cute guy."

"It's not a cute guy. There is no guy. There isn't ever going to be any guy. I keep telling you! You don't ever listen!"

Rose stepped back at the force in her sister's voice, raising her hands in surrender. "Ok, ok. I got it. I got it. No guys for you. So, tell me what happened."

"It started with the cop who was here. He had this red business card with a phone number on it."

"So?"

"It was the dead guys card. After the cop left I went to see Henry for my haircut. While I was there I saw that Henry had a card like the one the cop had."

"So?"

"So, I asked Henry where he got the card. He wouldn't tell me. Said something about finding it on his desk and not knowing who left it."

"That doesn't sound like Henry."

"Which is why I kept after him about it until he got mad."

"At which point he clammed up and you learned nothing."

"Basically yeah."

"Typical big brother. Protect the little girls from the big bad wolf by keeping them in the dark unprepared for disaster. Did you pound him?"

Callie shook her head. "We were at the mall. He bought my lunch.. I restrained myself."

"Ok, so if beating Henry to a pulp didn't keep you up all night, what did? Oh no. You didn't." T Rose stood up to hug her sister. "You idiot. You called the number didn't you?"

Callie nodded.

"I told them my name. I said I found a red card. But, they knew. They knew the police had talked to me. I asked if Henry was in trouble. They didn't answer me. They just hung up. When I called again the number was disconnected."

"So? What's next?"

"I don't know. I mean that cop told me he's already called the number. The only thing I could tell him is that I called it too. Unlike him, I actually spoke to someone. They didn't tell me who they were which is no help. The cop said he'd already traced the number. It came up as not assigned. I don't know if he can get more information or not. If not, then what happened isn't going to help him any."

"Well, I'm not a cop. Which means I have no idea what to do. What would the super sleuth hero in one of your books do next?"

Callie grinned. "He'd probably take a vacation trip to some South American jungle where he'd find a clue that leads him to a gum wrapper buried in a landfill in Africa. At that point he'd discover the gum wrapper had a secret hieroglyph in a dead language printed on it. A dead language that only he, and one other person in the whole world, speak fluently. Which, of course, unravels the whole mystery."

"Well, we can't afford for you to take a trip to Ecuador or someplace like that to look for gum wrappers. I guess that means that this is one mystery that isn't going to get solved."

"At least not by me." Callie laughed with her sister.

Three

The day turned miserable. Callie kept an eye on the clouds that shrouded the sky in gray. The rain that had been forecast with only a low possibility started mid-morning with a light drizzle. Stupid weather guys. Computer models, electronic sensors along with other gizmo's, up to the second Doppler radar technology and they still can't get it right.

As soon as she saw the pavement getting wet she brought her scooter around to the alley pushing it into the shop through the back door they kept locked otherwise. The rain was the only thing that happened all morning.

The only other break in their routine was when a guy came in late that afternoon. His raincoat was dripping on her tile floor making little puddles she'd have to wipe up. When he came in, Callie was drawing a new flash design. Rose was in the back working on the bookkeeping she still hadn't finished. The guy was holding a piece of paper in his hand asking for directions. He looked totally lost.

Of course, T Rose had to come out front to hang all over him while she told him how to find the address a few doors down the block. The place he was looking for was not easy to find as it only had a single door on the street to the upstairs offices. A door that wasn't very visible from the street or sidewalk. It wasn't the first time that someone had come in asking them how to get to that address. You'd think those businesses would want their address visible so their customers could find them, but, you never could tell some people anything.

Callie couldn't bear to watch after the first thirty seconds while T Rose continued to drape herself on the poor schmuck . It was typical behavior for her sister. Any guy, attached, dating, not interested, whatever, she was always on the lookout for anyone with testosterone in his bloodstream.

"You know, you're going to get a reputation as being cheap," Callie told her after the guy left with a just a thanks for their help.

"Cheap? I am not cheap! Easy maybe, but never cheap." Rosie struck a pose with her hands on her waist thrusting her hip sideways. In dark colored skin tight leggings and her T-shirt with the shop logo 'Asia' on it knotted at her stomach, she looked sexy as all get out. The fat little pink and blue cartoon dragon tattoo on her left side peeked its nose out from under the T-shirt. T Rose had designed it when she was fifteen. Callie had helped her to refine it, tattooing the dragon onto her sister herself.

Callie giggled at her sister's pose.

"At least I date. Not like you."

"Hey, I date."

"Not guys."

"So? You can have my share of the guys. It's not like you don't chase them all anyway."

"Oh, thank you sister dear. I'll take 'em. All of 'em."

"Well, there you go then. My gift to you. Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday. Forever."

Callie went back to her drawing. A tiger. Jumping over a pit with sharp stakes. Not her usual style. It wasn't turning out very well.

Giving up on the design she crumpled the paper tossing it at the trash can. Most of her drawings ended up there as she refined and worked on them until she had something she was satisfied with. Something she would be proud to tattoo onto someone's body.

The long day finally ended. The rain continued to come down. They locked the shop with Callies scooter still inside. T Rose drove them both home. Once there, Callie went out to the garage where she kept a heavy training bag and other martial arts gear. Donning protective gloves and pads, she warmed up. She began kicking the bag repeatedly. Her frustration over the slow day and T Rose's dating comments lending her strength and endurance.

A quiet rustling sound made her turn. "Poppy! What do you want?" Callie dropped to her knees in front of her youngest sister.

"Rosie says to come in for dinner."

"Ok. You go tell her I'll be right in."

Poppy nodded. Callie began to strip off the pads. The little girl didn't move.

"You ok? Is something wrong?" Callie asked her youngest sister.

Poppy just looked at her older sister with big eyes. "Can you teach me?"

Callie stopped pulling the pads off to sit cross legged on the mat in front of her tiny sister. "Why? Is someone bothering you? Hurting you?"

"There's a boy at school. He keeps pushing me. Today he pushed me into a mud puddle. I ripped my pants. I liked those pants! Please, Callie, teach me how to punch him."

Callie's mind instantly seethed with anger. Taking a deep breath she calmed herself and carefully asked; "Did you tell anyone?"

"I told my teacher but he didn't do nothing."

"Why didn't you go to the office?"

"My teacher wouldn't give me a hall pass."

"Did you go later? At recess?"

Poppy nodded.

"And?"

"They said they couldn't do nothing because it'd been too long."

"How about I go talk to your principal tomorrow. Ok? I can show you some things you can do if he pushes you again too."

"Now?"

"Not now." Callie laughed rumpling Poppy's hair. "We can start this weekend. Right now it's time for dinner."

The next morning Callie caught another ride with T Rose to the shop after sending Poppy and Tulip off to school. Poppy had looked at her with worried eyes until she knelt down giving her youngest sib a hug.

"Don't worry. I didn't forget. I will talk to your principal today. I promise. Now it's time for you to go to school."

Poppy allowed Tulip to tow her to the bus stop. She only looked behind twice before they mixed with the other kids standing there waiting. Several mom's, standing with their kids watching to ensure that everyone was safe, waved at Callie and T Rose as the little girls arrived. Callie waved back before she and T Rose got into Rose's car to drive to work.

Though it was overcast again, at least the streets were dry. Callie rode her scooter to her appointment with Poppy's principal. At the school Callie parked her scooter next to the empty bicycle rack. Removing her helmet, she fluffed her hair. Grabbing her messenger bag of paperwork she went inside.

"I'm sorry Miss Mee. But, as I told you over the phone, you're not her parent. I can't discuss anything with you."

The principal was trying to stonewall her again. Taking some paperwork out of the messenger bag she placed it on the counter in front of the obstinate man.

"I heard you. You apparently aren't hearing me. This is the paperwork that my parents and I signed at the beginning of the school year giving me guardianship of Poppy and Tulip in the event that my parents are not available. I can tell you that a copy of this paperwork is in both of their school files.

"My parents are out of town at an art exhibit honoring my mother this week. They are not available which means that I am the legal guardian of my sisters this week. This means I have the legal right to talk to you. I have the right to demand answers to why my sister is being bullied. And ask you why you aren't doing anything about it."

"Ma'am, you can't come in here and make threats . . ."

Callie had had enough! Lowering her voice she looked the principal in the eye. "I'm not making any threats. However, I am making a complaint about the bullying of one of your students at this school. I'm not aware that I even need to be a parent to make that complaint. I expect you to do something about it."

"We have procedures that we have to follow. I can't tell you anything." The principal backed away from the counter. "Now, if you don't leave I'll call the police. You have no right to be here."

The principal pointed at the door. Callie knew enough about human nature that she was positive that the man wasn't going to call the police. She also knew he wouldn't do anything about the bullying either. He was a tool. But, he effectively won this round since she had no other recourse available to her at the school. She'd made her complaint. Or tried to. Now to wait and see what happens.

Riding back to the shop she made a left on Second Street. As she zoomed along she realized that she was only a couple of blocks from the shop where T Rose had said there is a picture on the wall of the dead guy with the tattoo. Quickly changing lanes she pulled in next to a cluster of big Harley's that had taken space at the curb together. Backing her scooter in next to theirs, she stopped the engine while rocking the little pink bike up onto it's kickstand.

She looked around, spotting a place that had to be the one Rose described. It was only a few doors away from the block building with 'The Pit" painted in dark blue and black on the front of the otherwise tan colored building. The words were right over the midnight blue doors. Several ratty looking guys loitering in front of the windowless building watched her as she stepped up onto the sidewalk.

Looking at the bikes she'd parked next to, she paused a moment. Digging into her bag she pulled out a bundle of her new business cards. Carefully, she placed a card on the seat of each one of the bikes. Stowing the rest, she walked toward the place with the dead guy's picture on the wall.

Four

"Jingle-ling!" The bells over the door announced her entry into the dark storefront. Along with the strong odor of pot, she could almost smell the stench of the pain that got inflicted on the customers of the place. It was a pain palace. The exact opposite of what she was trying to set up in her space. Everything inside was black. The tiles on the floor, the partitions between the tattoo couches, the wall, the ceiling tiles. Everything. It was like a freaking crypt.

Wondering how anyone could work in near total darkness and expect to do good work, she stepped further inside. As her eyes adjusted she saw two men leaning on a counter near the back talking to a guy on the other side of the counter. The two in front had on suits and shiny shoes. The guy behind the counter had a shaved head, a full beard and wore a faded T-shirt. His arms were fully tattooed down to his knuckles. Full sleeves on both arms. Callie could see more tattoos around his neck above the collar of the shirt. Huge ring loops were set into his ear lobes making holes she could stick her finger through.

Stepping off to the side to look at the flash and pictures hung on the wall, in black picture frames no less, she heard them resume their conversation.

"Look man. Like I said. I don't know the guy in the picture. I ain't never seen him before."

"You're positive?" The guy who spoke looked over his plastic shades at the guy behind the counter. Callie almost snorted. Shades. Inside the darkest hole on the entire block. What a moron.

"Look man. I don't want no trouble. I told you I don't know nothing."

The other guy produced a card dropping it on the counter. "If you remember anything, give us a call."

"I will man. But, I told you everything already."

Callie turned slowly in place watching as the two men walked past her from the counter to the door and left. The jingle of the door bells covering the slam as they closed it behind them.

"What was that all about?" She asked the guy behind the counter.

"Cops. Wanted to know about some guy in one of the pictures. Asked me if I knew him."

"Oh. Do you?"

"No. He's just a guy who hangs out with a couple of other guys I know. Tries to hustle drugs sometimes. Mostly he only comes around for the club next door. Damn weirdo's."

"Weirdo's? Who, the cops?"

The man snorted. "Sister, you're funny. No, I mean the club next door. It's some kinda kink place where they tie everyone up to get whipped and stuff."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. Whatever floats yer boat I guess, but it's not for me. Anyway sister, what can I do for you? You want a tattoo?"

"Oh. No, I'm Callie M. I just opened a shop over on Eleventh. I'm kinda going around introducing myself to other shops in town."

"I know you. Or, I should say I know about you. I've seen some of your stuff. Damn good line work."

"Thank you. I try. It's not easy sometimes."

"Sister, art is never easy. I'm Whiskers." The guy held out his hand for her.

"Pleased to meet you." Callie shook his hand. The smell of pot was stronger as she got closer to Whiskers, along with an odor of stale beer.

"Can I leave some cards with you? Some of your customers might know someone who wants to get work done, but, who won't come down here. I'll take a few of yours if you'd like to swap."

"Sure. I got no cards though. I will put one of yours under the glass here on the counter if you want. I know a couple of ladies who might be interested in something different than what I do. I'll let them know the next time I see them. If they're interested, I'll send them your way."

"Appreciate that. I really do." Callie handed him a card from the bunch in her messenger bag.

"Hey, no problem. I remember when I was just starting. Trade's hard to come by. But if you're good, and you are, it'll happen. You'll see."

"Ok. Thanks Whiskers. I gotta go. There's a couple more places I want to stop at before I head on in to work."

"Sure thing sister. You be careful out there. The neighborhood's been worse than usual for some reason these last few months. Some of them guys who hang around out front ain't so nice as they once was."