3 Lies (32 page)

“Morning sickness?”

“Not me. Weak stomachs are for sissies.”

He leaned against a piling, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Paige, my child won’t grow up without a father.”

Fear crinkled the smile on her lips. For the first time in three years, she looked vulnerable.

“We used to have something I thought was unbreakable.”

“We still can.”

“No. We can’t. I don’t love you anymore.”

Paige’s cheeks dropped. “Betsy, is it?”

“Beth. Her name is Beth. I never would've met her and fallen in love if you hadn’t left me.”

Paige shook her hair out behind her back. “Have you told her about our baby?”

A weight held his breath. He considered telling Paige about Beth’s illness, about Louie, about the kidnappers, and the Supreme Court. Maybe Todd told her. But the door to Paige’s world was narrow. Only she and her baby and her career and her too-close-to-ex husband would fit through it. Everything else stayed outside.

“She doesn’t know yet. She may leave me over this news, and I wouldn’t blame her. But either way, you and I are finished.”

“You said you’d never call me here.”

“Relax. The line is clean.”

“What do you want?”

“We’ve had a complication on this end. We’re moving the ship.”

“It’s about damn time. It was a stupid place to leave it.”

“You needed a little reminder of your commitment.”

“What about the code? Did they find anything?”

“Nothing of any consequence.”

“That’s what you said about the white van.”

“The white van is no longer a factor. And neither is the ferryman. I’ve taken care of all the problems. You need to trust me more, partner.”

“Partner? That’s a good one.”

“A little patience, and we can enjoy a long, lucrative relationship, as we have in the past.”

“How much longer?”

“Our friends in black stand at the edge of decision. I expect this will be done by tomorrow.”

A pause broke their conversation. “The woman. Will she live that long?”

“I’ll let you know tomorrow.” The phone went dead.

The next day Clint woke to the drip of the coffee maker. Out of habit, he thought about feeding Louie. Remorse wormed in his belly. And sadness. The morning walk wasn’t necessary either. The break in routine left him feeling disoriented.

A bell clang from dockside reminded Clint that Merlin was going to meet him to review the case notes. He yelled out for him to come aboard and quickly got dressed.

Merlin climbed down the stairs and entered. He looked around the floor with anticipation. “Where is the old boy?”

It struck Clint how quickly hearts could be won. With Beth. With Louie. Merlin had known the dog only a few months, but Clint expected the news to sting.

Merlin stiffened in alarm. “What’s happened?”

“Louie was murdered by the same people that have Beth. It was my shot-over-the-bow. I’ll be the next target.”

His cheeks sank. “They killed him?”

“A guy in a black ski mask was aboard my ship. Louie tried to tell me.” Clint fought the feelings back. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for when you agreed to help me.”

“No. And I may not be long on sense, but I’m sure as hell not running out now.” Merlin stomped across the floor. “I don’t like bullies. Dog-killers being among the lowest.” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “The bastards killed Louie.”

“He’s in my cabin.”

Merlin bit his lip. “The old boy was a gentleman among dogs.”

“The innocent always suffer.”

“Aye.”

Silence settled like dust.

~

Clint poured a cup of coffee and laid all the Supreme Court case notes on the table. He studied them for anything that might tie into this chaos. Merlin helped himself to a cup of coffee and came to Clint’s side.

Merlin took a noisy sip. “Let’s have another go at these then.”

“Abe was able to eliminate some from our list.”

Clint explained to Merlin how the kidnappers monitored the cases and decisions of the justices. They separated the stack of case notes by comparing the case numbers to Abe’s lists, tossing all the paperwork from the completed cases into the recycling bin. From the rest they made a pile of the ten cases due today, another pile of the twenty due the next two days, and stacked the remaining sixty-eight.

“No interference with the court, eh? That’s a rather spongy definition of the term. Don’t you think?” Merlin shot his apple core into the trash can from half court.

“Abe’s got to keep up appearances if only to the mirror.”

“Where shall we start?”

“Let’s concentrate on the twenty due over the next two days,” Clint said. He laid them out on the table in a four-by-five grid. “Have we seen any of these before?”

“Your mate Todd prepped these three thick ones for us. So they have some Middle Eastern connection.”

“Avi didn’t think the note was from a native-speaking Arab.”

“Terrorists don’t require proof of citizenship.”

Clint grunted agreement and surveyed the files.

“Here’s a pharmaceutical company,” Merlin said. “They seem to have everyone gunning for them these days. Maybe they decided to shoot back.”

“What’s the case about?”

“It’s an industrial patent suit against another pharmaceutical. These gents have pockets deep enough to fund this mess.”

“Hang on to that one.”

Clint picked up a file. “Here’s the encryption case the feds brought against Nedel Electronics.” He flipped through the documents. “Our attorneys at CatSat Laboratories filed an
amicus curiae
brief.”

“What’s that?”

“It means ‘friend of the court.’ Anytime a detail of law is being argued or the issue is particularly obscure, the court may allow non-litigants to present information to help clarify.”

“Is your company concerned about this case?”

“Mildly. That’s why the brief was filed, but even a ruling that required full disclosure of the encryption method wouldn’t affect our business. We’d just need to update our encryption key more often. The permutations on encryption are endless.”

Their heads fell toward the table. Several of the cases were dead-guilty people arguing about the methods used to catch them.

“Hey, here’s this guy again.” Clint jabbed at the papers. “Hasan. The one that got caught by customs trying to smuggle the bomb into the country.”

“He certainly wouldn’t quibble over kidnapping.”

“Nor would his friends.”

They spent an hour reviewing the files. Petitioners. Respondents. Questions considered. None of the details brought them any closer to finding Louie’s killer or finding Beth.

Clint pushed the files away from him. “I don’t have a clue what I’m looking for.” His phone rattled on the galley counter. He checked caller ID. He’d left a message for the veterinarian the night before to pick up Louie. “I need to take this. I’m making arrangements for Louie.”

“I could use a stretch anyway. Back in a bit.” Merlin disappeared topside.

The veterinarian told Clint that a courier was on the way over to pick up Louie. Clint decided to have Louie cremated and scatter his ashes at sea. The dog loved water.

He went to Louie’s still body by his berth and uncovered the shirt from his face. He patted the dog’s black jowl. Other than the temperature of his body and the hole in his head, the dog appeared to be sleeping. Clint could explain the hole to Louie’s vet another time. One of the perks of fame.

Clint ended the call. The phone rang again before his melancholy hardened. He pulled an arm across his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Morrison here. I’ve got a lead on the white van.”

The news revived him. “What do you know?”

“A live-in down at the Scituate Marina saw a guy in it one day. He noticed the V-8 engine sound too.”

“What did the driver look like?”

“Muscular with black hair and olive skin. He wore a Sox ball cap and blue mirrored sunglasses.”

Clint’s skin tingled. He held his breath. “Does the boat owner have any idea where this guy might have gone?

“No. But the dock hand told me a guy with the same description recently gassed up an open-bowed Grady White. Last seen it was heading up the coast.”

Clint had to sit. The same kind of boat tended the Hatteras. “It was an open-bowed Grady White? You’re sure?”

“The deck hand was. The guy fiddled with some equipment on board while getting a fill. Paid for the full tank with cash.”

Clint resisted the urge to shout. “You got anything else?”

“Not yet.”

“Keep at it. Let me know what else you find.”

They were hiding Beth on a damn boat.

Clint heard Merlin amble down the stairs and hurried out to meet him.

“The Hatteras, Merlin, the Hatteras. That’s where they’re keeping Beth.”

“Is that so?” Merlin’s last steps thudded slowly. “The store just opened, and this fax was waiting there. I brought it along because we’d talked about that big ship. Look at this, mate.” Merlin handed a paper to Clint. “Someone else is looking for the Hatteras and Grady White.”

Doug had spent the night slumped in his chair with his face pressed against the stack of papers on his desk. He took a quick five-mile run around the premises to loosen his joints. Posey met him in the lobby of their building at Headquarters on his return.

“We got some responses to our canvass of the East Coast marinas. A ship matching the description of the Hatteras took on fuel in Cancun and Riviera Beach Florida. While the ship is hardly uncommon, paying by cash for that much fuel is. More importantly—”

Doug was getting used to Posey and his punch lines. Probably good news.

“—somebody in the Boston area wants to meet you.”

Or not. “Meet me?” Doug wiped the sweat off his brow with a towel.

Posey walked beside him. “A man called the hotline. He says he knows something but won’t talk unless it’s face-to-face. He asked where we were located, but the gal on the line wouldn’t tell him. He asked if we were close enough that someone could meet him by 10 a.m. today in Boston. She told him we could.”

“Did they trace the number?”

“Pay phone.”

“Not many of those left. So what are the terms?”

“Go to this address by taxi, alone, and wait outside the store with a magazine under your arm.” Posey handed Doug the information. “He won’t talk unless it’s in person.”

“What else?”

“Nothing else. He hung up.”

“Have you checked with Sasha on the fax order?”

“I tried, but she’s not in yet.

“I’ve got to run upstairs. Meet me in the office in five minutes.” Doug bounded up the stairs and cut over to Chester’s office. He paced while the assistant confirmed that Chester would see him.

Chester opened the door. “Come in, son. Is this about Albert?”

“No. Did Natalie bring you up to speed on that?”

He sat in one of the chairs at the table and pulled out another for Doug. “Yes, she did. Is that why you called me last night?”

“Yes, sir. Natalie is verifying the evidence I gave her regarding Albert. It’s a matter of time now.” Doug tried to find a comfortable spot in the chair.

“Good work. But you’re in a hurry. What do you need?”

“A man called about the missing ship. He wants to meet in Boston this morning. He won’t tell us anything over the phone.”

For the first time since talking to Posey, Doug started to relax. Chester would know what to do.

He stood and buzzed his assistant. She joined them in the office.

“Doug Bryant is going to arrive at Reagan within twenty minutes. Have a plane ready for him.”

Doug’s leg jittered. “Me, sir?”

“You have someone better in mind?”

Doug tried to still the flock in his chest. “What if I need backup?”

“I’ll have a team ready, but the Director doesn’t want any unnecessary involvement. Besides, for all we know, this could just be a crank.”

Doug hadn’t thought of that. “Yes, sir. I’ll be ready.”

Amir welcomed Salif’s request that the controller repeat the instructions. Amir was not certain he had heard correctly either as he listened in on their call. Orders of this kind, one did not want to misunderstand.

“We expect the mission to be complete within twenty-four hours. I want all detainees eliminated. Is that clear?”

That meant the golden-haired woman, too. Though her health already kept her at risk. Pity.

“Perfectly.” Salif said. “Twenty-four hours to success.”

“First, I have another urgent task. I will send instructions via the usual method.”

“Understood.”

“You and your men have earned a vacation. Your compensation will ensure that it’s especially enjoyable.”

Awaiting further orders, the Hatteras sat one-hundred kilometers north-northeast of their previous position. The hasty bug-out tired everyone. Amir wanted only to collect his pay, fly to a temperate zone, and match rhythms with a beautiful woman.

“Since we have victory in hand, what of the records for me and my team? Have you made arrangement for the marks against them to be erased?”

“Absolutely. Arrangements have been made. The first team to return from this mission is already enjoying the fruit of their efforts. Since you’ve stayed to the end, your reward will be swift.”

Amir thought of Imad Hasafi and Mujibur Khan being back in the good graces of Langley and stifled a laugh. This controller was indeed capable of miracles. Amir was glad he risked tapping Salif’s phone to hear these exchanges. He would know the controller’s voice if they were to meet. Plus, the news he heard today was all good.

Doug arrived at the convenience store by taxi ten minutes ahead of schedule. The location was well-lit and had enough morning traffic to slow his racing fears to a sprint. He went in the store and bought a copy of
Runner’s World.
If this was a bad joke, he at least had something interesting to read on the flight home.

A young couple milled at the corner of the building smoking cigarettes—far enough away from the gas pumps to keep the peace. Doug tried to appear nonchalant, but he doubted it was working. He’d never felt so blatantly chalant in all his life.