Collateral Damage (9 page)

There was no one around to dispute her assessment.

I
t was four minutes past eight on November 1 when Lizzie Fox climbed out of a sleek black town car in front of the Hoover Building and told the driver to wait. She shrugged her elegant shoulders, gave a slight tug to a clingy skirt that could have been fitted into her ear if she was short of closet space.

Ted Robinson, with Joe Espinosa at his side, gawked at the ravishing woman walking toward them. Long legs that went all the way to her throat, Betty Grable legs if you were from a certain lascivious era, deep cleavage, a tan that was so perfect it had to have come from a tanning bed. Ted just knew the tan was a
full
-body tan. The luxurious mane of silvery hair was piled high on her head, making her five-eleven height even more impressive. The makeup she wore was so flawless as to be indistinguishable. She wore enough bling to light up a dark night.

“Now that’s one fine, Goddamn good-lookin’ woman,” Espinosa muttered under his breath. “What the hell is she doing here at this hour of the morning, do you suppose?”

Ted laughed, an unholy sound.

Ted and Joe weren’t the only ones admiring the long-legged beauty. People stopped, moved out of the way, then turned to watch the lithe figure cross the open area to the front door of the Hoover Building.

Ted jumped in front of her, and said, “Hey, Lizzie, remember me? Can I have a few words with you?”

Lizzie slowly and deliberately looked Ted over like he was a worm on a stick, one she was going to shake to the ground and stomp on. Instead, she smiled, stepped to the side, and offered up a dazzling smile that had made more than one sitting judge rule in her favor. “Anything for the press. Make sure you get me full face. I don’t like side shots.”

“Absolutely,” Espinosa leered, as he focused the camera.

“So whatcha doing here, Lizzie?”

Lizzie offered up another dazzling smile. “Actually, Mr. Robinson, I was invited here this morning.” She looked around, then up at the sky. “Do you think it’s going to rain today? And here I am without an umbrella.”

“Who invited you?” Ted asked as he flicked the small recorder into the
ON
position.

“Some…person…I can’t seem to remember her name. Emily, Emma, something like that.”

“Erin Powell?” Ted volunteered.

“Something like that. Whatever…”

“Why?” Ted asked bluntly.

Lizzie wagged a playful finger under Ted’s nose. “Now you know I can’t be telling you things like that,” she drawled.

“Does this command invitation have anything to do with the fracas that went down here last night?”

Lizzie winked and smiled. “You’re the reporter, Mr. Robinson.”

“By the way, where’ve you been, Lizzie? I’ve been trying to find you for months.”

Lizzie winked again, and Ted got weak in the knees. He wondered what it would be like to take this bombshell to bed.

“If I told you that, then I’d have to kill you. Now, if there isn’t anything else, I’m running late. I don’t want Ms. Whatever-her-name-is to get her panties in a wad. If I’m not out in an hour, send in the troops, okay?”

“Gotcha. Can I quote you on that, Lizzie?”

“Of course. Will you gentlemen be staying on when the sale of the
Post
goes through?”

Ted looked like he was sucking on a sour lemon. “I hope so.”

Lizzie leaned closer to the reporter, and whispered, “I can make it happen, Ted. I’m overseeing the final legalities. I have an idea. Let’s do lunch before you write this up. I like the Squire’s Pub. Oneish or thereabouts.”

“You shitting me, Lizzie? How’d that happen?” Excitement rang in Ted’s voice as he hopped from one foot to the other. “I’ll be there.”

Lizzie shrugged her elegant shoulders. Never modest, she said, “Because I’m the best of the best, that’s why. What other reason could there possibly be?”

Ted was in such shock he was speechless for the first time in his life. So speechless he didn’t make a move when he saw Jack Emery and Judge Easter walk through the doors behind Lizzie.

When he finally found his tongue, he looked at Espinosa, and said, “Holy shit! Did you just hear what I heard? I think we should buy some hip waders because there’s going to be a bloodbath around here sooner rather than later.”

“Yep.”

Erin Powell saw
her
coming, and so did the others. She cringed inwardly while outwardly hoping the others weren’t picking up on it. That was wishful thinking on her part. She hated, absolutely hated, the smirks on her fellow agents’ faces. Except for Bert Navarro, who looked like he was studying the
Mona Lisa
with a critical eye. She had yet to deal with Bert concerning last night’s activities.

“Good morning, people,” Lizzie said in her best low, sultry, come-hither voice. “I understand you wish to have a dialogue with me. I’m here. Time is money in my business. So, I’d appreciate it if we could get right to it. Oh, yes, one other thing. Do not ever, ever, ever, ever pull crap like this on me again, or you’ll be in the Mojave stapling papers.” The voice was now so sensual and earthy-sounding that all the agents, Bert included, wore sappy expressions as they rushed to escort her to the conference room, to get her a comfortable chair, and make offers of coffee.

“Can I run out and get you a latte?” Landos asked.

Lizzie batted her inch-long eyelashes, and replied, “Agent…”

“Landos, Joe Landos,” the agent said, falling all over himself.

“That would be just lovely, Agent Landos. Thank you for being so considerate.”

Landos was out of the building faster than greased lightning.

Lizzie looked around and made a face. The room was spartan, folding chairs, long metal table that was scratched and scarred. In the middle was a huge coffee stain that no one had bothered to clean. The walls were blinding white, the floor battleship gray. She eyed the chair and made a pretense of checking for dirt so that her five-thousand-dollar Armani suit wouldn’t get dirty. She finally sat down but ever so gingerly on the edge of the chair. The minuscule skirt hiked up so far the agents looked away discreetly.

“How’s it going, Lizzie?” Bert asked with a show of familiarity.

Lizzie offered up her dazzling smile, and said, “Ask me when I leave here, sweetie. Now, tell me, what can I do for you fine gentlemen and…uh, lady?”

Bert knew immediately what Lizzie was doing. She’d drawn her line in the sand and would not deal with Erin. Lizzie never dealt with women. As in never. She’d decided she would deal with Bert, and that was that.

Erin sensed where it was all going and stepped in front of Bert. “I’m Special Agent Erin Powell. I’m heading up this elite task force on Director Cummings’s orders.”

Lizzie ignored Erin’s outstretched hand, her expression clearly showing what she thought of that order. Erin flushed and withdrew her hand as though she’d been stung by a bee.

“As I was saying, Ms. Fox, we’d like to ask you a few questions, and you can be on your way.”

“Questions about what?”

Lizzie crossed her legs. Erin heard the indrawn breath of her fellow agents. Why did everything have to be about sex?

“About the vigilantes. You were the attorney of record.”

“And it’s all privileged. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Erin wondered if she looked as desperate as she felt. Probably. “Oh, but you will. I’m in control here. I can hold you for seventy-two hours if I so choose.”

Lizzie stood up. “You can try, but before you do that, I suggest you call Director Cummings to see if that’s really the route you want to take. Since you probably know two of the vigilantes better than I do, why don’t you just make up something and run with it? I was simply their attorney for a few hours. And then, poof, they absconded. End of story. Now, Bert, please show me where my two clients are so I can advise them of their rights. By the way, there are some reporters out front. If you want to pursue push coming to shove, let’s do it, Special Agent Powell. I told them if I wasn’t out in an hour to contact Director Cummings, who has an open-door policy, and inquire as to my whereabouts.”

Erin’s stomach rumbled. She was glad she hadn’t eaten any breakfast. She’d not only just lost the battle, she’d lost the war as well. Still, she needed to go down fighting. She was just about to order her agents to arrest Lizzie Fox, and she’d take the heat, when Director Cummings poked his head in the door. Seeing Lizzie, his face lit up like a hundred-watt bulb.

“Nice to see you, Lizzie.”

Oh, shit,
Erin thought.
They’re on a first-name basis.

“Nice to see you, too, Director.”

“I understand you’ve been away, out of town. Nice to see that you’re back. Where were you?” he asked in his most folksy manner.

Lizzie laughed, the sound tinkling all over the office. She wagged a playful finger, then held out her left hand where a ring with a diamond as big as a headlight gleamed. “Here and there, Director. A lady never kisses and tells, you know that. Ah, here is my latte. Thank you so much, Agent Landos. Wasn’t that sweet of him? Your agents are such nice, understanding people. I was just explaining to Ms. Emily…Emma…sorry, whatever her name is, that she couldn’t arrest me and hold me for seventy-two hours because then all sorts of problems would come up. Isn’t that right, Director? It goes without saying that I shared everything I could—which is really nothing, since it is all privileged. We both know you can’t hold me. Unless, of course, you’re trying to make a statement of some kind, which will go against you in a court of law.

“I have an idea, Director. Why don’t you walk me down to where my clients are waiting for me.” Without waiting for a response, Lizzie untangled her long legs, stood up, and smoothed down her skimpy skirt. All eyes, even Erin’s, were on her beautiful, long, toned legs.

When the director and Lizzie were out of earshot, Landos leaned forward, and asked Erin, “Guess she showed you, huh?”

Erin walked over to her desk. She sat down, looked at her agents, and said, “Yes, I guess she did,” so softly the men had to strain to hear her words. All but Bert wore baffled expressions as they stared at their boss.

“Charlie and Pete, don’t you have someplace to be? I believe Judge Easter and Deputy District Attorney Emery are waiting for you. Joe, pick up Ted Robinson and haul him in here. From what I’m told, he knows more than anyone else about the vigilantes.”

“He’s a nut job, Erin. No one pays attention to him. He sees vigilantes in his dreams. He’s a joke,” Landos said.

“So bring him in so I can get a good laugh. I need one right now. I thought I told you to bring in Maggie Spritzer.”

Landos looked for a moment like he was going to give Erin an argument but decided against it. “I would if I could find her. No one knows where she is.”

“Just like no one knew where that sexpot was?”

“Meow!” Landos said as he left the office.

Erin spun her chair around so that she was facing Bert. “You want to tell me about last night?”

“No, actually I don’t. When I’m off duty, my time is my own. More to the point, do you want to tell me why you were following me?”

“Actually, I don’t, Bert.”

“Then I guess we should get to the business at hand. What do you want me to do?”

What she really wanted was to cry on his shoulder. Anyone’s shoulder. She schooled her face to impassiveness when she spoke. “It’s getting to the point that no one is going to talk to us even if we sweat them. And you were right, Bert. Powerful people are behind those vigilantes. When they bring in Robinson, I’m going to do the interrogation. I’ll decide if he’s a crackpot or not. Give me your professional opinion of Lizzie Fox, Bert. Aside from the obvious.”

“She’s not shy. She’s flamboyant and has the goods to pull it off. She doesn’t lie when she says she is the best of the best. Bottom line, she is. As the young people say today, the lady has it going on. She’s got enough favors due her in this town to keep her going till hell freezes over. All she has to do is call them in, and you’re out in the cold, Erin. Right now she’s going to play with you. She’s going to bait you, then she’ll strike with that dazzling killer smile of hers. You won’t know what hit you. I’ve seen her in action.”

Erin shivered inside her suit jacket. She was stung to the quick by Bert’s assessment. “You must think I’m a total dud. Why is that?”

“You let her get to you. You played right into her hands. I don’t think you’re a dud. I think you’re out of your league here, is what I think. For starters, you had no clue who or what Lizzie Fox is. Always know your adversary, Interrogation 101. Instead of wasting your time following me around, use your time more constructively. This is a thankless job, and you aren’t going to get those women. Accept it.”

Erin digested the information, not liking it. “There’s a mole here somewhere.”

“Maybe so. Find him or her and sweat them. Now, what do you want me to do?”

“Finish going through the boxes. Finish up the boards so that everything reads chronologically. Somewhere there’s a clue that everyone’s missed. Find it. I mean it, Bert, find it, or my thinking where you’re concerned is not going to be pretty. I’m going to be all over you if you zero out again. I’m going out. Call me on my cell if you need me.”

“Okay, boss.”

Bert looked around. He knew the room was bugged, so he didn’t bother to check it out. He felt a small shiver of apprehension knowing Erin Powell thought he was the mole. Like all women, she was going to be like a dog with a bone where he was concerned.

As he got down to his thankless job, he wondered how Jack and Nellie were faring. Who the hell was doing the questioning? The director? If it was Charlie and Pete, it would be a disaster. Both men had the finesse of a bull in a china shop. And where was Erin going so early in the morning? Talk about a cluster fuck. This was right up there with the best of them.

Three doors down on the right, Director Cummings was thinking along the same lines. Obviously, this little meeting was a mistake, and he had to save face some way. He waved off Agents Akers and Mangello, who were about to storm the room.