Justified Means (Book One) (The Agency Files) (16 page)

Claire
’s hands fidgeted. How could she get information out of him without being obvious? The last time was easy. She’d sent a panicked text message claiming to be in the Dunstan district of Rockland being followed by “thugs” and how did she get out of there? He’d sent a quick text and whatever Alek’s tech guy had done to her phone worked. They found them in minutes. The cabin was empty when the team arrived, so someone had been monitoring something. Surely, it wasn’t her!

The chill that ran up her spine terrified her.
It was one thing to help find the woman who was stealing from Alek. Putting Keith at risk was another thing all together. Then again, the money was good. It had to be good now that she was stuck in it.

Once he found his target and got the money back, she
’d tell Keith all about how Alek had found her and asked her to help. He’d been so kind—worried that Keith would get caught in the middle and be accused of aiding a criminal. Of course, once she’d met Alek’s men, she knew that crossing him meant death to anyone. Alek had used her, and now she was trapped. However, trapped or not, she refused to turn her cousin over to a creep like Alek Anastas.

She remembered the looks a few of his men gave her and the rumors about his business and shuddered.
Claire knew she needed to find out where the woman was before they decided to take their payment from her—it wouldn’t be pretty.

“
How long do you get off this time?”

“
I just got a couple of days. I’ve got a ton of paperwork to do.”

“
Did you have a field assignment recently?”

“
You know I can’t talk about that, Claire.”

“
How am I ever going to get a job where you do if I don’t know what it entails?”

“
They’re not going to hire you. You know that.”

“
They will if I know what to do to make them sit up and take notice.” She put her hand on his arm. “Don’t you get to travel? I mean, bodyguards travel, right?” She had to remember to stick to the story. “That’s gotta be awesome!”

“
Forget about it, Claire. It’s too dangerous. Your dad would kill me.”

“
Helping people like that—going to exotic places…” She knew he couldn’t resist correcting her.

“
Exotic. Ramshackle cabins in the middle of nowhere aren’t exactly exotic. They’re miserable. Remember, usually the people we’re guarding feel trapped, alone, and they take it out on us. You couldn’t handle it, Claire. Become a pediatrician. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“
It’s too expensive. I’ll never get enough money.”

“
I’ll help. Dad would help; Uncle Ted will get another job if he knows you’re serious. There are grants, scholarships; you can get student loans. Come on, Claire. Do it.”

“
Because you don’t want me sitting around a dingy cabin in the Rockies protecting some battered wife from her husband?”

He shrugged, but didn
’t answer. Her mind whirled as he pulled into the rental place at the airport. She’d have to do the phone switch thing. It’d put him at risk, but she’d just have to refuse to cooperate unless they left him out of it. Besides, he wasn’t on that job anymore. It couldn’t hurt anything. She’d do it at security.

Claire opened her phone and sent a text message to Jade.
“PHONE SWITCH AT SECURITY. NEED DIVERSION.”

It worked. How, Claire didn’t know, but it worked. Her stomach churned at the idea that the toddler had been pushed and cracked its head open, but how else could she explain a gushing head wound at Keith’s feet the moment he was supposed to step through the metal detector? It had been brilliant—sick, but brilliant. She wasn’t much for prayer, but Claire prayed the kid didn’t know that he’d been sacrificed in order to find Alek’s money.

She didn
’t know if the phone dump had occurred or not. Once she saw the kid and the blood, she’d gone into action. Maybe Keith was right. Maybe it was time to get serious about a career and quit freaking out about the long-term ramifications about student loans high enough to buy a house. Every time she’d gone in to file the papers, she’d seen the numbers, gulped, and chickened out. It was time to stop it and get it done.

Keith returned from the bathroom, his shirt and pants damp and the traces of blood still on the shirt.
“Well, I got most of it out. Man, that was gross.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You did great, kid. I told you—pediatrician.”

“
Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. It’s time to get back on the ball.”

“
Thatta girl.”

“
So, when does my bike arrive? I still can’t believe you bought that thing.”

“
Hey, sometimes a guy needs to feel frivolous. I don’t get time to enjoy that kind of stuff, so I live vicariously through my favorite cousin.”

Laughing, Claire punched his arm.
“I wasn’t always your favorite—well, maybe your favorite pest.”

“
A fave is a fave, as they say.”

“
Who says?”

Keith shrugged.
“Dunno. Just sounded good.” His cell phone rang. “I gotta get this. Be back in a few.”

From her vantage point, she could see
that something troubled him. He glanced sharply her way, and Claire forced herself to smile before mouthing, “Is something wrong?” Fortunately, he seemed convinced. Shaking his head as he walked away, she knew what he must be discussing. The blood, the hurt kid. One of Anastas’ guys must have gotten the phone. Great. Keith’s people already knew that someone was tracking him. Man, the people he worked for were good.

Claire always wondered who it was and what he did.
Bodyguard was too ambiguous. He’d had a chance at the Secret Service, but as far as she knew, he’d turned them down. Then again, didn’t the Secret Service have something to do with money? Counterfeit? Maybe the woman had been counterfeiting? That’d make sense why they’d have her in custody, but not why they were protecting her—unless.

She swallowed.
It couldn’t be. Alek wasn’t a counterfeiter. He dealt in other illegal activities of a less “clean” nature. Then again, who says he hadn’t branched out? He could easily be into trafficking
and
counterfeiting, and if this gal had taken off with plates or turned state’s evidence or something…

As she watched him slip the SIM card from his phone and toss it in the trash, Claire
’s mouth went dry. This wasn’t good. They couldn’t keep track of him without that card. Should she tell Alek or pretend she didn’t notice? She’d play it by ear. She could always remember him tossing something later and claim she thought it was a wrapper or something.

By the time they were ready to board the plane, Claire
’s nerves overcame her—and she knew it showed. Then again, maybe it came off as excitement. She’d run with that. “So, am I going to get you on that bike?”

“
Not on your life, and you know it.”

“
Had to ask.” She nearly choked as he picked up his laptop case, carry-on bag, and left his phone sitting on the miserably uncomfortable airport seats. The impulse to point it out was strong, but then she remembered the SIM card. It was a perfect excuse. She could call and tell them he’d left it and they could try to retrieve it. She’d look good instead of incompetent. She glanced at her watch and opted for waiting until she was on the plane. If she left now, it would look suspicious.

If Claire’s shock hadn’t been so genuine, he would have been convinced she was in on the phone tracking. The moment he’d gotten the call, his mind immediately went back to the moment that child’s head cracked against the tile at his feet. Surely, it’d been an accident. What creep would cause that kind of pain in a kid? Why he even questioned it, Keith didn’t know. Alek Anastas sold people like animals in an auction. Why wouldn’t he use one to further his needs?

The idea was preposterous.
Claire being in on anything that could hurt him or one of his clients was the most hair-brained idea he’d considered yet. Desperation made him see things in ridiculous lights. Karen told him to ditch the card and phone, so he had, but if they were watching him this closely, there was no way he could get near Erika again. They’d have to find someone else to take over that detail.

The pang of disappointment surprised him.
He didn’t have illusions about friendships with his clients. His job was to protect them, sometimes against their will—always against their desire. He was happy when a case was over because it meant another life saved, another family protected, another job well done. Nothing satisfied like that knowledge.

Erika wanted to be home so badly that even he could taste it.
The idea that he could be attracted to her came and went quickly—perhaps too quickly. It was ludicrous, really. She wasn’t very feminine, and Keith had always preferred decidedly feminine women. Her short spiked hair could have been mistaken as a visual aid for the kind of hairstyle that repulsed him. He didn’t like a woman with a foul mouth or a sharp tongue—Erika had both. Furthermore—Keith began to feel as if he had geared up for a tirade—a guy could put up with a lot of things, but lack of respect wasn’t one. Erika definitely didn’t respect him.

Despite his internal protests, Keith had a sneaking su
spicion that he lied to himself. Still, he refused to admit it—even to himself. Instead, he opted to consider that fleeting feeling of disappointment as due to being unable to finish the assignment. He’d never been pulled from an assignment. In fact, they usually sent
him
in when another agent failed. Withdrawn from duty—tough pill to swallow there. Of course, it upset him—a natural reaction.  On and on, his mind tried to justify his unsettled feelings.

A glance at his
cousin told him she’d be out for a while. Claire had always been able to sleep anywhere. He stood, stretched his legs, and ambled down the narrow aisle toward the bathroom. He didn’t really need the facilities, nor did he relish the feeling of being in a sardine can, but sometimes flight attendants would chat with you if you stood around out there. They, unlike the people in front of you, understood how miserable it was for a tall man with long legs to be folded up like a Jack-in-the-box.

Near the back of the plane, a row of empty seats beckoned him.
He pointed to them and silently asked the flight attendant if he could sit. The young man nodded and pulled out a soda can as if to ask if he wanted one. Keith shook his head. They weren’t allowed to drink anything on flights.

Keith pulled out a virgin cellphone and typed out a simple text, praying the attendant wouldn’t notice until it was sent. 

BAD NEWS. LOST PHONE. CONTACT AIRPORT LOST AND FOUND?  ALL CONTACTS IN IT GONE. AND CAN YOU GET ME A NEW ONE IF THEY DON’T FIND IT? THANKS.

There. Anyone reading wouldn’t think a thing of it. Mark
knew. That’s what mattered. The rest didn’t.

“
We missed him. Someone tipped them off. My guess, it was you.”

Indignant, Keith
’s head whipped up ready to protest. “What—”