3 Lies (38 page)

He watched as they loaded her into the side of the helicopter. The crew prepared for flight with practiced precision. The Dauphin lifted, the gear retracted, the bird leaned south. Clint watched until she disappeared into the glittering sky.

He thought of Paige and the baby. He wondered if Beth would still be able to love him. She deserved someone she didn’t have to share.

Merlin was at his side when his mind finally cleared. “There’s a few people here that want to meet you. This way, mate.” Merlin put his hand on Clint’s shoulder and led him through the throng.

Uniformed people streamed in and out of the Hatteras now. A medical crew corralled a group of men and women on the shore. Their collective demeanor told him they were the other hostages. Everyone else left them to share their intimate experiences in private.

Clint followed Merlin into an old building with lighting that rivaled a stadium on game day. Doug huddled with a soldier at a folding table. Another soldier interrupted them and gestured to Clint. Doug greeted them at the door. “It’s been a long day.”

“No shit.” Clint surveyed the activity. “What’s going on?”

A lovely young black woman with cornrows came to Doug’s side. She extended a hand to Clint. “Officer Natalie Warda. Central Intelligence. Mr. Masters, I’m very glad to finally meet you. Can we get you some dry clothing?”

Clint stared at Doug. “Natalie. The same Natalie?”

“She wasn’t working with Todd Westerfield. Only Chester was,” Doug said.

“Would you like to change first, sir?”

“I’d like some answers. Then I’m going to see Beth.” Clint needed to call Beth’s parents and get to the hospital. His feelings aside, they deserved to know she was safe.

“Of course, let’s sit. We have another helicopter that will take you when we’re finished. I know you both must be very tired.” She gestured toward a table from which three soldiers were leaving. A large Asian man stayed.

She pulled out a chair.

“Clint Masters, Merlin. Posey Kong. But I know you’ve already met.”

Clint fell into his seat. “How the—?”

“I’d been tracking Doug since he departed Langley though officially only since I gained approval from the Director to bring a team down here. I had to take control of this from Chester. The Director was the only one with the authority to make that call.”

A man brought a tray of coffees to their table and set it down in the center.

Clint took a cup. “Your snipers?”

“They cleaned up when they could, but they couldn’t shoot until your famous ass was out of the way. Like I need that kind of press.” She smiled. “Of course Doug took him down after your girlfriend fired. Tough girl. I like her.”

“Me too.” He hunched over the table.

“While you were out here, Posey was investigating the fax order used to communicate with marinas on the East Coast. You answered one, as I understand.”

“Yeah, Merlin and I did.”

“Chester Spivey changed those orders to delay the investigation. He knew exactly where the Hatteras was located. He tried to cast suspicion on me, but I was in a taped meeting at the time, so I couldn’t have done it.”

Posey said, “Chester somehow had access to Natalie’s account, and he used her computer to do it. He’s the one that code-named her ‘Babbage’.”

“We have to finish our investigation, but we believe he left himself a backdoor in the computer system at Headquarters.” Natalie took a cup and sipped. “He used it to let a worm loose in the software which launched this operation and authorized our agents to kidnap nine people.”

“Nine innocents.” Merlin laid his head on the table, his ponytail dangling over the edge. “How’s the little girl?”

“Her parents are on the way to pick her up. She’s in good shape, considering. She has family that’s related to Justice Beatrice Cohen, but she isn’t.”

“We know.”

“They found her in the right place and assumed. The last names were very similar.”

“Poor kid.” Merlin sat up. “I say, Chester had me fooled.”

“Chester never thought Doug would be able to stop him in time.” Her brown skin flushed to deep mauve. “I respected the man, but I wondered why he’d give a high-profile case to a neophyte.”

“Excuse me?”

She touched Doug’s arm, as if in apology. “Had his getaway all planned until that agent stole his chopper.”

“Amir.” Doug said, “Not your average guy.”

“Idiot guards.” Natalie rocked back in her chair. “How’s that going to look in my report?”

Clint was eager to get this cold night moving, but he had to know where he stood. “Speaking of reports. What are you going to do with Todd Westerfield?”

A helicopter dropped Clint off at the hospital where he met up with Beth’s parents and her nephrologist. The doctor only gave him minutes with Beth. Her emergency care took precedent over Clint’s need to hold her, but he made it clear to everyone that he was coming back to stay. None of them argued.

Clint took a cab to his next stop after confirming with Avi Kalush the nightmare scenario he suspected.

He banged his fist on Todd’s front door. Todd opened it without his usual elegant demeanor. Wearing wrinkled slacks, pronounced eye baggage, an unflattering sheen to his face, even a jitter to his hand as he stroked his temple. His shoulders jumped inside his silk suit as if trying to shake off the weighty thing clinging to his back.

He looked like hell.

“Hey buddy—”

Clint shoved Todd into the foyer. Todd stumbled and hit his head against a metal frame.

“You maniac.” He touched his face. Blood seeped from his head. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I remember Chester Spivey now. It took me a while to make the connection.”

Todd paled as if he’d been badly embalmed. “I don’t understand.” Todd’s imploring voice, slumping posture, the urgent gleam of his eyes conspired into a single emotion. Fear.

“You introduced him to me at a party in San Jose.” Clint walked around Todd, examining him as if truly seeing him for the first time. “You’re right. I guess I just don’t notice things sometimes. But I remember him now. He had some friends from Asia that he wanted you to meet that night. Why did you kidnap Beth? The other men and women? A four-year old little girl, for God’s sake. ”

Todd wiped his eyebrow. “Do you hear yourself?” His eyes searched for a safe place to focus.

“North Koreans, Todd.” Clint stood nose to nose. “North Koreans. I know. I saw the transmissions. We keep a record of all the transmissions in R&D. You couldn’t wipe that clean.”

Todd masked his face with his arm.

“Was it the Nedal Electronics case? With the encryption key some bored government propeller head could dig through our old transmissions and find out you’ve sold us to the highest damn bidder.”

“You have no idea the money involved. These stakes make our IPO look like a flea market.”

“Stakes! You want to talk stakes. How about espionage? Kidnapping? Treason? Murder? You sonovabitch. Beth may be dying.”

“He was CIA, man! I thought we were helping.”

Clint slammed him into the wall. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Todd’s forehead beaded like a shower glass.

“How many people are dead because of you?”

“Dead? What are you talking about?”

“It’s over, Todd. Chester is dead. The CIA has the boat.”

He ran a hand over his face and slumped against the wall. “We sent instructions to the South Korean missiles. In normal test mode, they work as expected. It’s only when they go live that the code kicks in.” He stared at the floor. “Then they become inoperable. When I figured out what he was doing, he threatened to turn me in. But his fingerprints were on those transmissions too. I made sure of it, and he knew it. The Nedal case sent him over the edge.”

Todd sank to the floor. “It was the money. He had his own damn printing press.”

“Why Beth?”

“Shit. I couldn’t take a chance on this case getting overturned. I never thought about the Feds decoding our old transmissions until the Nedal case came up. It can’t happen. These guys I’m working with might get ugly. I had no idea Beth was sick. You’ve got to believe me.”

Clint leaned over Todd. “Why Beth?”

“Chester Spivey and I were bouncing around some ideas already. I got the idea to hijack people when you started dating her. Not the justices, not their spouses, but someone close.”

“You tried to make it look like terrorists, but none of it hung together.”

Todd turned away. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have ‘The Brain’ to consult with this time.”

“This is my fault?”

“She wasn’t supposed to get hurt! I thought she was a rebounder, a fling to get back at Paige for all her crap.”

An alarm rang in Clint’s heart. “How many? How many affairs has she had?”

“Three. That she told me about.”

Hearing it aloud only served as a second opinion for Clint. He’d known. Todd probably slept with her too, but Clint didn’t ask that question. Sadly, knowing Todd lied to him left the bigger wound. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Todd looked at his shoes. “I don’t know. I’ve been carrying her shit since third grade. I guess it’s a habit.”

Clint wanted to pull Todd up and pound his two-hundred-dollar-haircut against the wall until he cracked like a nut.

“The CIA is talking to all the hostages. They’ll be here any minute.”

As Clint turned to leave, his rage hit critical mass. He grabbed Todd by the lapels, ripping his tailored jacket. Clint leaned back to gather momentum before smashing his knotted fist into Todd’s pretty face.

Todd sprawled. A red puddle formed on the floor. He held his nose with both hands and moaned.

Clint’s words came in gasps. “No hard feelings, eh?”

Beth came out of ICU on the third day. Clint stayed by her side whenever her doctor allowed. Each of Beth’s cabin mates and the men on board came by to visit with her before heading home. Even Emmy and her parents visited before their flight back to Denver.

In spite of her setback, Beth’s doctor maintained cautious optimism about her future independence from dialysis. The infection to her kidney was under control and their functioning starting to improve. Clint desired nothing less than her complete recovery, but either way, he was prepared.

As for Cecelia, Blake, and Abe, Clint said little to Beth. They each made rounds at the hospital. He was polite for Beth’s sake. Each expressed gratitude for his involvement. Groveled. Even Hizzoner. He forgave them, but Clint could never view any of them again with quite the same respect. He’d never again trust them again with Beth. Family was a complicated business. No matter. Clint didn’t plan to marry all of them.

Natalie Warda had stopped by the day before with Doug. Doug asked Clint to join them for a beer, but didn’t seem surprised, or disappointed, when he declined. Two’s company and all. Doug earned a promotion. And apparently, his former boss, Albert Moore, was arrested for misappropriation of funds. A particularly nice word for stealing.

A fuel truck driver at an airport in Norfolk County found the CIA’s missing helicopter. Inside the helicopter was a note asking someone to contact the CIA. Coincidentally, a twin engine Beech 18 went missing from the airport the same day. It had yet to be located. Nor had Amir Hasan.

The newspaper of the day listed the latest decisions by the Supreme Court. One decision of note: they upheld the lower court in the Nedal Electronics case, denying the government access to the private encryption keys. And they announced a recess.

Later that evening, Clint waited in the hall while nurses attended to Beth. A woman approached him. A nurse. Or so he thought. He remembered her to be a nurse, but she wasn’t in uniform. She wore jeans and a sweater.

“Excuse me, Mr. Masters.”

He recognized the woman, but couldn’t place her. A lack of sleep and routine. He really did need more rest.

“I’m Beverly Medina. From Dr. Compton’s office.”

“Yes. Of course, Ms. Medina. What can I do for you?”

Her head wobbled a bit before she fixed it in place and looked up at him. “I’m sorry to bother you here, but I’ve been trying to reach you for days. A British man at your marina told me I could find you here.”

He waited for her to speak. Her head hung. She moved her shoe as if trying to wipe something off it.

“I took your DNA sample at Dr. Compton’s office. I read about Todd Westerfield in the papers. I know he resigned from your company.”

“That’s true. But what’s that got to do with—”

“He’s the father. Mr. Masters. Not you. Todd Westerfield is that baby’s father. Dr. Compton and your wife, Paige Lambert. They switched your DNA sample with Mr. Westerfield’s before sending it to the lab.”

Clint and Beth held hands portside of the
No Moor.
The helm stood idle as they sailed under a light breeze, taut sheets, and a sparkling sky.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

The glow on Beth’s face made him smile. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. The sun glistened off her flaxen hair. She wore it loose and long, wrapping her body like corn silk.

“It’s time.” Clint reached down and picked up the rosewood box filled with Louie’s ashes. He held it while Beth opened the lid. He waited for the breeze to lift and waft a path out to the emerald sea. His missed Louie, but feeling that was okay for now. He didn’t want another pet. He wasn’t ready to fill that particular emptiness with another dog.

He missed Todd, too, now that he was gone. So much of their lives had intertwined since they were boys. Todd was a significant part of his past even not all the memories brought him peace. As with his break from Paige, he expected time to soften the edges of his memories.

Todd sent his resignation to the CatSat board of directors as Clint demanded. The board reluctantly accepted it, but that kind of news didn’t suit Wall Street. Clint struck a deal with Natalie and the spy-types at the CIA. He would keep quiet about the Supreme Court, Chester Spivey, the mission-gone-crazy and provide all the details about Todd and Chester’s errant CatSat transmissions. In exchange, CatSat’s reputation remained unsullied. The CIA held Todd on razor-sharp hooks but continued to debate his case. He convinced them he knew details of Chester Spivey’s actions. Todd would probably find a way to stay a filthy rich man, but his days of influence were over. This kind of news did suit the robed men of Washington.