BM03 - Crazy Little Thing Called Dead (15 page)

“Hambecker?” What was he doing at my house? I let the phone lay.

“Yeah. How many guys sneak into your house at night? Wait. I don’t want to know that. Hang on, let me get a light.” His weight shifted off the bed. There was a click and the hall light shone through my open door. He was in T-shirt and jeans—and stocking feet?

“Where are your shoes?” I asked.

“It’s a lot easier to sneak around in sock feet. Also, my shoes were gross from a New York alley. I left them on your porch.”

“I still don’t get why my dogs don’t bark at you.” I pushed the pillows behind me and leaned against the headboard. “Did you talk to Victor? What did he say? How does he know Ledroit?” My brain was starting to kick in.

“Yes. We talked. It was very productive. But you didn’t stay on the roof.” He sat next to me on the edge of the bed. Very near.

“Ledroit—Donne, whatever, was on the move and I thought maybe I should follow her. Why are you here?” Not that I minded, what girl in her right mind would object to a handsome federal agent on her bed? But I did want to know how come he was on my bed.

“You disappeared, I wanted to check in, make sure you weren’t any worse for wear. You didn’t follow her, did you? That wouldn’t be wise.” He picked up my hand with both of his and rubbed my palm with his thumbs. Very distracting.

“No. She was gone by the time I got down the stairs. I got a stitch in my side.” And now I had a stitch in my brain. The electricity generated by his touch short-circuited my thought processes.

“Why didn’t you take the elevator?” He was massaging my fingers one by one.

“I thought it would be faster to run down. You ran down, didn’t you?” It was taking everything I had to focus on the conversation now.

“Something like that, only I didn’t land on every step.” He leaned in closer.

“Can you stop that?” I said. “I can’t concentrate.”

“I’ll stop if you tell me how you knew where I was.” He did stop, but he kept my hand.

“I might want to know where you are again sometime, and if I tell you, I won’t be able to.” I tried tugging but his fingers were circling my wrist. Not tight, not hurting me but like human handcuffs.

“Yes. That’s what I’d like to avoid.” He was very close, his eyes softer than I’d ever seen them and my breath caught in my throat.

“Is that why you came? To, um, question me?” Damn, my brain was shutting down.

“I came for this.” He leaned in close his mouth centimeters from mine. His lips touched mine for a fraction of a second, the softest whisper of a kiss, and my mind went south. “Nice,” Hambecker said his lips still far too close.

“What’s nice?” Would it be rude to tell him to shut up and kiss me?
Probably
.

“Nice work tracking me down.” He placed another feather-light kiss on my mouth.

“It was easy.” This time the kiss was anything but light. I slid my arms around his neck as his tongue touched my lips. My brain was screaming,
Wait a minute!
but my body said,
Oh, what the hell; I’m going to enjoy this while I can,
as I went under for the third time.

Hambecker broke the kiss and removed my arms gently from his neck.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

“Hell, no. I just want to know how you managed to get into a locked vehicle.” His lips were millimeters away from mine, where did he get the control to hold back?

I closed the distance and kissed him running my tongue across his lower lip. “I didn’t break in. Didn’t need to.” I slid my arms around his neck again, pulling myself into his lap.

“Is it the antennae?” His tongue caressed my lip and I sank deeper.

“Nope. But if you stay the night I’ll tell you in the morning.”

He shifted me so he could kiss me below my ear. “Magnet?” he whispered.

“Duct tape.” I wrapped my legs around his waist pressing the length of my torso against him. “I’m trying to seduce you. Concentrate.”

“I am concentrating.” He licked my neck and blew on it. “Bumper?” He breathed the word so quietly I barely hear it.

“Wheel well.” I heard myself whisper it and it was too late to take it back. I pulled away. “You bastard, you did that on purpose.”

“Yep.” He grinned and kissed me lightly on the lips. “And now you can’t follow me into trouble.”

Hambecker looked sorry as he disengaged himself from me, but I was furious.

“You’re going to take what you came for and leave, aren’t you. I thought you’d stay if I told you.”
Crap. I will not cry
.

“I know. I’m sorry. But I’ve got to go, and you can’t come.”

“Bastard. I thought you liked me.”
I will not cry
.

“I do like you. And you know it. I like you so much that I don’t want you dead.” He moved into the hall and turned out the light.

“But you’re leaving me. I thought you’d stay…”
Please stay.

“Next time. Next time, I’ll stay.” He dropped a kiss on my head. “Next time.” He was gone. Not once had my dogs barked.

When the engine noise of Hambecker’s SUV died away, I let myself cry a little. But not too much, because it’s hard to feel too sorry for yourself when the guy you like doesn’t want you dead.

Chapter Ten

The phone started ringing before I was even out of bed the next day. If I could have answered it without opening my eyes, I would have. As it was, I only cracked them open enough to pick up the phone without knocking it over.

“Did you hear?” Meg. I should have known.

“Hear what? The phone ringing too damn early in the morning?” If she’d only hang up I could fade back into oblivion.

“Grant Fraser was found murdered in his bed last night. You’ve got to get that story.”

“Grant?” Images started whirling around in my head. Grant at the bar surrounded by friends. Grant with his arm around me, talking to Hambecker. Grant in the RV at the racetrack, talking about being blackmailed. “Oh God.”

“I’ve got to get you on a flight to Atlanta. We have to report this.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to. I’ve got more information than I want at the moment. I’ll talk to you later; I’ve got to call the cops.”

I heard her say “What?” as I pressed the flash button.

I got Tom on the phone and before I could explain he said, “I know. Jim called. Come down and give a statement sometime today.”

I hung up and dragged myself into the shower. My thighs were killing me from stair climbing in New York City. The hot water helped until I used it up and then the cold water woke me up.

The phone rang again as I was getting dressed.

“Have you heard about Grant?” It was Claire this time. “What do you think happened?”

“I can’t talk about it right now.” I was hopping around, trying to pull on my jeans with one hand. “But I’ll call you later.”

Considering I knew more about it than the cops or Jim I thought I’d better keep my mouth shut until after I’d been to the barracks.

I fed the dogs and took the time to make myself a flat egg sandwich and wrapped it in a paper napkin to eat on the road. I poured coffee in a travel mug, called Max to ask him to feed the animals and do the barn chores. Ranger was sticking close, and I trusted his instincts, despite the fact he let Hambecker walk in whenever he wanted, so I loaded Ranger in the truck and took him with me.

I took a bite of sandwich and set it on the center console so I could pick up my coffee. When I went to pick it back up half of it was hanging out of Ranger’s mouth.

“Hey, that’s mine.” I tore off the piece that hadn’t been in his mouth and got another two bites of breakfast while Ranger wolfed the rest of it. “Dang Dog,” I muttered and he leaned over and licked my face. Lovely.

When I got to the Barracks I dragged a towel out from behind the seat and wiped my face and hands. Then I unloaded Ranger and took him in the barracks with me. I could see the desk clerk debating if he should tell me the dog couldn’t come in, but he just buzzed us through instead.

“You can’t bring that horse in here,” Tom said when we walked in his office. “He’ll break something.”

“He’s having separation anxiety, I couldn’t leave him.” I sat in a chair and Ranger sat beside me. “He’s my bodyguard.”

“You need a bodyguard
why
?” Tom was kicked back in his chair looking at the ceiling. “I bet this is going to be good.”

“Because I know more than anyone about Grant’s death, and how it might tie in to the Bulgarian assassin in Planet Hair, and the Mob.”

“You get knocked on the head or is this delusions of grandeur? Jim was at those races too. He didn’t have anything to say about Bulgarian assassins.” Tom sat up and leaned on his elbows. “So spill. What is it that you know that no one else seems to, and why do you know it?”

“Here goes…” I gave him my version of what happened in the RV at the races, then I reminded him about Ledriot asking me to find Victor Puccini. Lastly I told him about New York City. “… and so the woman I think of as Michèle Ledroit, Hambecker knows as Margaret LeDonne, who’s supposed to be really dangerous and connected with the mob. Then there’s the guy who is Ronnie’s brother, she calls him Hughie. His name is Hugo Hart, I think, except it’s also possible he’s known by Victor Puccini. Also, Grant told us that the woman who blackmailed him had a French accent and was named Margaret.”

“My God, I’ve got a headache. Two people with aliases? Two murders. A connection with the mob, and Bulgaria and assassins. I wish to hell you were pulling my leg, but you’re not. How much of this does Hambecker know?”

“More than me, probably. But not that Margaret threatened Grant, and he left to go somewhere secret last night so he may not know that Grant’s been killed.” My heart ached a little when we mentioned Grant’s name. He’d been a hometown hero and a good guy. We’d miss him. “I assume Hambecker knows who Margaret really is and her connection to Hugo, and probably why the assassin was assassinated.” I chuckled to myself. I was a laugh a minute, when I wasn’t sobbing like a baby.

“I’ve got to get this information to the detective in Atlanta. Stick around and I’ll have someone type this up for you to sign. I think Steve’s at his desk if you want to terrorize him with Ranger while I’m on the phone to Atlanta.”

I took the hint and Ranger and I strolled around to the bullpen to see what kind of trouble we could get Steve Leftsky into.

“Hey there, big boy,” Steve said when we walked in. Ranger stuck his nose in Steve’s lap and I pulled him away.

“Mind your manners, chowder head,” I said.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Steve responded.

“Not you, Leftsky, the dog.” I sat in one of the rolling chairs and twirled around. Ranger looked bored and sat next to Steve, who was at least stationary.

When Tom came in with a statement for me to sign Ranger had his head in Steve’s lap and I was researching Grant’s death online. I could get the basic facts up on our website and do an in-depth article in next week’s paper. An article I was uniquely qualified to write.

I signed, Ranger licked Steve in the ear, and we headed to the truck. I’d decided to take Ranger to work with me.

***

Meg was pacing when I walked into the office with Ranger, balancing a cup of coffee and a walnut cinnamon roll.

“Finally,” she said. “What took you so long?”

“You know paperwork.” I dumped my bag and food on my desk and flopped in my chair. “What’s going on here?”

“I want you to go to Atlanta and see what you can find out. This is huge.” She sat on her desk and jumped off again almost immediately. “We need to run with the big dogs on this.”

“Stop pacing. We’ll do better than run with the big dogs. We’ll lead them. I’ve got inside information and nothing I could find out in Atlanta would be news. It’s all on the Internet already.”

“I still think you should go to Atlanta. Tom can call the captain there and get you access.” Meg was walking the floor, talking with her hands and just generally exuding nervous energy.

“Calm down. I think Grant’s death is tied into the Bulgarian assassin in Planet Hair. What’s his name Albert, Alvin—I’ve got it written down on my desk.” I searched through a stack of notes. “Albin. Albin Shvakova. If that’s true, this is a bigger story than anyone knows. Anyone except you, me, Hambecker and Tom.”

“And whoever killed them,” Meg said. “That person obviously knows.” She stopped pacing and sat. “Not to change the subject, but do you think we should have Ronnie clean here? Everyone says she’s a wiz.”

“And she probably could use the money. That house she lives in is pretty run down.” I grabbed a legal pad from the shelf behind Deirdre’s desk and sat at my desk.

“Shouldn’t you be out finding the murderer or something?” Meg said. “Or do you think he’ll just waltz in here and tell you his story?”

“He’s a she. And no probably not, but I’m making an effort not to blindly dive in and get taken by surprise. Looking at the connections. Figuring out my next step.”

“Don’t spend too much time figuring, you do your best work when you blindly dive in. You’ve got a knack for stepping right in the middle of stuff.”

“Hmm.” I may have a knack for stepping into stuff, but I’d rather develop some caution and maybe step next to situations rather than right into the middle of them. So I wrote a time-line.

Body in Planet Hair

Find Car

Murder suspects Ronnie’s brother (I didn’t seriously think Ronnie had the ability to kill someone.) Lori (unlikely), Jim (probably not even though it would be poetic justice and a hell of a story), Claire (highly unlikely.)

Ledroit shows up looking for Victor Puccini (I’ve never heard of him)

Hambecker arrives

Hugo Hart is mixed up with the mob (Ronnie’s brother)

There was a bullet in the wall at Planet Hair