COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series) (19 page)

BOOK: COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series)
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            “What the hell’s going on in the Colombian government,” Mac’s growl came from the phone, “that they hire people with suspicious backgrounds?”

            Rose shrugged, even though Mac couldn’t see her. “Bribery’s rampant, I’m sure. And there may be a certain amount of mutual looking the other way going on, now that the country’s supposedly at peace.”

            Dolph jumped in. “Not getting anywhere with trying to get into the CIA’s personnel records.”

            “Not surprising,” Skip said.

            “I did find something interesting on their mission statement page, however. There’s a link to another page of fine print that defines the perimeters of CIA activities. If an American is suspected of espionage or other acts of treason, they aren’t the ones who’d investigate. It would be the FBI. They’re not allowed to even
question
U.S. citizens.”

            “That would explain the weird vibes I was getting,” Rob said.

            Dolph nodded. “I’m leaning toward these clowns are rogue.”

            “They could be Dawson’s connections, the ones who tracked down the mistress,” Rose said. “When he turned up dead, they decided something was fishy.”

            “And that’s who’s been investigating,” Skip said.

            “Passing that information along may reassure the ambassador and his cohorts that we’re not the ones they should be worrying about,” Rob said.

            “We need a game plan for tomorrow,” Rose said, “when we show up at the mistress’s house.”

            “I go in with the trust papers and deliver our message to leave us the hell alone,” Rob said. “You guys stand guard outside.”

            “Mac’s vigorously shaking his head on this end,” Liz reported.

            “Driver’s way more than a chauffeur. He needs to be neutralized,” Mac said.

            “Manny and I’ll do that,” Rose said.

            “I’m going in this time,” Skip said. “No point in my keeping a low profile now. At some point we bring Raul into the house and question him. One of them might let something slip in front of me, not realizing I speak Spanish.”

~~~~~~~

            Janice didn’t normally mind working ten hours or more a day. She’d always figured it was part of being a successful lawyer. But she too hadn’t slept well on the floor the night before. At four o’clock, she decided to call it a day. She would take her laptop home so she could do some work later in the evening.

            But first she needed to get herself and her guests some better bedding. She headed for the nearest Sears store, watching in her rearview mirror for a glimpse of the bodyguard who was supposed to be following her. She saw no sign of him but decided that probably meant he was good at his job.

            Getting off the escalator in the furniture department, she located the bedding area, and quickly encountered an obstacle. Yes, they had plenty of mattresses in stock, but the earliest delivery time available was between noon and four the next afternoon.

            Janice picked out a basic bed frame, box spring and mattress for her bedroom but decided to wait on the other rooms until she knew how she wanted to decorate them. This was the first home she’d ever had that she could decorate however she wanted, without trying to please anyone else. She wanted to savor the experience.

            As she returned her credit card to her purse and signed the paperwork for her bed, she asked the salesman, “Any thoughts on how I can get something temporary for tonight? It’s not just me. I have some guests as well.”

            “You might try sporting goods, ma’am. They should have air mattresses and the pumps for them. Wife and I have a couple for guests. They’re pretty comfortable.”

            “Great idea.” Janice headed for that department. Thirty minutes later she was lugging two huge bags out to her car.

~~~~~~~

            Rose had swung by Kate’s office at the end of the day to escort her safely back to Janice’s place. When they arrived there, Lilly was standing in the hallway outside the apartment.

            On first blush, Rose’s name seemed appropriate for a short woman with a gorgeous smile, until one got to know her and realized she was no delicate flower. In Lilly’s case, the mismatch between name and owner was instantly apparent to Kate. The blue-eyed, blonde was over six feet tall and probably weighed close to two hundred pounds, most of it muscle.

            “She’s been shopping,” Lilly told her boss.

            “Uh, oh,” Rose said.

            “What’s the problem?” Kate asked.

            “Hopefully there isn’t one. But she’s been staying with you. Now nobody’s at your house. They might have been watching for her to show up at work today to tail her back to you.”

            Rose called the guard assigned to Janice that day. After disconnecting, she said. “Says he spotted what he thought was a tail as she was leaving the shopping mall. He got between them and slowed down so Janice got through the next light and they got stopped. He kept the guy blocked in until she was out of sight. Still, I’ll tell the guards to be extra vigilant tonight. Can you stay, Lilly?”

            “No problem,” the big woman said.

            When they opened the door, they were greeted by an horrendous noise. It sounded like someone was demolishing the master bedroom with a jackhammer. Rose and Lilly pulled their guns and raced toward the room, just as the noise stopped. Janice was shoving the plug into the last of the air mattresses.

            “Hey, Rose, I got us some better accommodations for tonight. Could you drag the bigger one into Kate and Skip’s room for me?”

            Rose stifled an eye roll and holstered her gun. She nodded to Lilly, who returned to her post outside the door. Rose grabbed the designated mattress and wrestled it out of the room.

            Janice caught sight of Kate. “I’ve got sheets and pillows, too. Come get the ones for your bed. How ’bout Chinese for dinner? We can have it delivered.”

            Rose dropped her burden and returned to the doorway. “No. That would be a bit obvious if you order a bunch of food on your credit card, and have it delivered here.”

            “Well, what the hell are we going to eat then?” Janice asked.

            “She’s got a point,” Kate said.

            “Hang on. Let me call Skip. He and Claude can get the food. I’ll call it in, but not to the place you usually use, Janice.”

            Janice threw her hands up in the air. “How did life get so complicated?” she asked no one in particular, but there was no rancor in her voice. “Is it okay if I get the wine shop to send up a couple bottles? And some glasses and a corkscrew.”

            “Do you have to use your credit card?” Rose asked.

            “Nope, they keep a running tally. Don’t have to pay up until the end of the month.”

            “Don’t see a problem then.”

~~~~~~~

            The next morning, Janice resisted the idea of going to the new safe house with them that evening. “If you’re willing to leave a guard with me to make sure nobody follows me home, I should be okay. I’ve already forwarded my mail to the office. I’ll leave it that way for now.”

            Neither Rose nor Skip responded as they drank their Starbucks coffee and ate the muffins the coffee shop had delivered.

            Janice brushed crumbs off the front of yesterday’s rumpled blouse. “Thanks for bringing some more of my clothes, guys. I’m gonna go get dressed for work.”

            Once she’d left the room, Rose said, “She’s kind of a loose cannon. Might be better to not have her with us.”

            “And better for her if we distance ourselves from her,” Skip said. “Is it time for her guard to become more visible?”

            Rose paused for a moment. “Yeah, ’cause then they’ll be able to stop her from doing something dangerous. Like running around Sears buying sheets and pillows.”

            When Janice returned to retrieve her coffee cup from the breakfast bar, Rose said, “You need to realize that until this is all completely resolved you’re in danger. They know you’re a friend of Kate and Skip, that you were staying at their house. They may assume you know what’s going on. Or they may try to kidnap you, to use you as leverage. So you just come and go from here to work. I’m putting two people on you. You’re going to ride with one of them in their car. The other will stay here to rest up for the night shift, but also to guard the place so you don’t have any surprises when you get home.”

~~~~~~~

            At nine a.m., the delivery department at Sears received a phone call. “Hello, you have a delivery going out today for Janice Browning. I am her assistant. She wanted me to verify that she gave you the correct address. Since she has just moved, she was not positive that she remembered the street number correctly.”

            The clerk in the delivery department pulled up the relevant order on her computer. “Yes, that delivery’s going out this afternoon to 3943 York Road, Towson, apartment 901.”

            “Yes, that is correct. Thank you.”

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

            At precisely three o’clock, Juan Garcia stepped out of his limousine in front of the luxury townhouse owned by Ms. Annabelle Gaston.

            Garcia had not realized that Annabelle was a high-priced call girl when he had first met her at a private party in Washington. She, on the other hand, had assumed he was privy to this knowledge, since the party was the kind to which gentlemen did not bring their wives.

            They had talked for hours, ignoring for the most part the festivities around them. At three in the morning, the host, who had imbibed far too much alcohol, rather clumsily announced it was time for
the girls
to leave. Garcia was shocked when the graceful and elegant young brunette said goodnight to him and got up to join the women who had been entertaining various guests in the upstairs rooms all evening. Halfway to the door, Annabelle had glanced back over her shoulder. Seeing the look of dismay on his face, she had come back to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. It was the first time they had touched.

            She had taken his hand. “I had a delightful evening conversing with you, monsieur,” she said in her soft French accent. When their hands parted company his held an embossed card with nothing but a phone number on it.

            He had called the following day and asked her to consider an exclusive arrangement. That was three years ago.

            Garcia came to Annabelle not just for sex, indeed not even primarily for sex, although their physical relationship was certainly more satisfying than the one he had with his wife, who knew dozens of subtle ways to remind him of the discrepancies in their backgrounds. No, Garcia came to Annabelle’s house three times a week primarily to
talk
. It was the only time he was able to relax, to let down his guard.

            But today was not destined to be a normal relaxing visit. Five minutes after he entered the townhouse, while Annabelle was still making him a drink, the doorbell rang.

            Garcia and Annabelle exchanged a look, hers concerned, his annoyed–not with her but with Raul for once again allowing someone to disturb them.

            The doorbell rang a second time. Annabelle started for the door but Garcia stopped her. “No,
querida
, I will see who it is.”

            He went over and nudged aside the thin curtain over the window nearest the door. The man on the doorstep was the lawyer he had visited outside Baltimore two days ago. Garcia looked over to his limousine parked on the street. The young woman who had threatened to skewer him like a pig was leaning against its side. She appeared to be conversing nonchalantly with his driver but Garcia suspected she was holding him at gunpoint.

            Furious, Garcia opened the door.

            “Mr. Ambassador,” the lawyer said. “I have those papers you asked me to prepare. And I have another urgent matter I need to discuss with you.”

            “How dare you come here–”

            Garcia’s angry tirade was cut short when a tall muscular man suddenly appeared next to the lawyer and shoved the door wide open.

            He stepped into the doorway, forcing Garcia to take a step backward. Nodding to Annabelle, he said, “Please excuse the intrusion, ma’am. Mr. Ambassador, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Skip Canfield, Kate Huntington’s husband.”

~~~~~~~

            Skip was impressed with how quickly the ambassador composed himself.

            “Come in and close the door, please.”

            Skip and Rob complied.

            “Do you realize how dangerous it is for you to come here, especially you, Mr. Canfield. I am not certain that I have eradicated those zealots who are over anxious to protect me.”

            “Sir, you most definitely have not eradicated them. Two men came to my office on Wednesday and tried to kill me.”

            “Annabelle, please excuse us,” the ambassador said without taking his eyes off Skip. She gracefully slipped from the room.

            “Have a seat, gentlemen.” Garcia headed for the loveseat. “Tell me what happened.”

            Rob sat down in an armchair. Skip remained standing.

            The ambassador listened without comment as Skip summarized the attempt on his life, including the fact that the dead man remained unidentified and that his companion seemed to have shot him on purpose.

            “We have a pretty good idea who’s been making inquiries,” Rob said. “Two CIA agents came to my office yesterday asking about you. I invoked client confidentiality. Mr. Dawson had asked someone he still knew within the intelligence community to check you out. Apparently that request set something in motion.”

            “Who are these individuals?” Garcia asked.

            Skip snorted.

            “We have no desire to add names to someone’s hit list,” Rob said.

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