Capture (Butch Karp Thrillers) (13 page)

“‘But when you look at both what do you see?’ I take it he means when Butch looks at Casa Blanca and Art of War…the White House and a book?” V.T. asked.

“Or is there something significant about having to look at both of them in some sort of context together—that separately they don’t mean anything?” Karp pointed out.

“And last but not least, ‘And so does the deadly connection between the two sides,’” Jaxon said. “So when this deadly connection—which I’m taking to mean a person or maybe a group who operates between Islam and the West—looks at Casa Blanca and Art of War, they also will see what we would see? Which at the moment is nothing.”

“I don’t get it, either,” Karp said. “But Andy, whoever he is, does seem to be trying to warn me. He said it would be ‘the worst thing that could happen.’”

“And what would that be?” Jaxon asked.

“Wish I knew,” Karp replied. “There’s just something about the way he phrased the threat that bothers me…. I mean, what is the worst thing that could happen? Another terrorist attack with massive fatalities? The end of the world?”

“A death in the family?” Newbury ventured softly.

Karp grimaced. “On a personal level, that’s certainly the worst. And something I worry about every day, especially with Lucy, now that you’ve lured her over to the world of spooks and assassins.”

“Want me to fire her?” Jaxon replied.

“Yes…but no,” Karp said with a sigh. “I want her safe, but I guess the parents of every soldier serving in Iraq and Afghanistan
would prefer their children to be safe, too. She wants to serve her country, and this is how she is choosing to do it. It’s not my call.”

The rest of the meeting was spent catching Karp up on a curious conversation that V.T. had with his uncle regarding Amir al-Sistani. “As you know, the family firm represented Prince Esra bin Afraan al-Saud when he came to the United States on business, and that al-Sistani was essentially his business manager. But al-Sistani was using the prince, and his billions, to try to crash the stock market.”

“And al-Sistani murdered him,” Karp added.

“Right.” Newbury nodded and continued. “And as we all know, al-Sistani was last seen being escorted into the deep, dark underworld by David Grale. Anyway, last week, dear old Uncle Dean came into my office and asked if I had any way of contacting Grale. He said, ‘I know there’s some connection between that madman and the DAO, and I just thought that perhaps you were aware of how to communicate with him.’ I said I didn’t know how to contact Grale, which was true, and Dean left. But I could tell he was disappointed. I asked him about it later, but he just said that people would pay dearly’ to have al-Sistani in their control. He didn’t say who or for what reason.”

“But apparently these unknown people are either worried about what al-Sistani might say, which I wouldn’t mind hearing myself,” Jaxon said, “or they want him for something else.”

“I understand he was pretty wealthy,” Karp suggested.

Jaxon nodded. “And that could be all there is to it: these people want to ransom him so that the eternally grateful al-Sistani rewards them with riches. We’ve tried to find and freeze any and all accounts linked to al-Sistani, though the Saudi government has not been very cooperative in identifying them or closing the accounts that the prince may have had that al-Sistani had access to. Even if they did, we probably haven’t located all of his funding and he may have quite a nest egg stashed away.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Karp said.

Jaxon laughed. “Yeah…but I don’t know what that ‘but’ is. I wish Grale would cooperate and hand over al-Sistani. For a while, we were receiving pretty decent information from Grale—a lot of it through your contacts, Butch…”

“Dirty Warren, the Walking Booger, and Edward Treacher,” Karp said. “Glad they were helpful.”

“Very helpful…at least for a while,” Jaxon replied. “But it’s been quite some time since we heard from them. I don’t suppose you’ve anything new to report?”

“I asked,” Karp said, shaking his head. “But all I get is that Grale is in one of his moods, and apparently isn’t talking to anybody.”

“I don’t get why he won’t give up al-Sistani,” Newbury said. “I thought we’re all on the same side.”

“Grale is on his own side,” Karp replied. “It so happens that our mutual aims have meshed over the past couple of years. But I think if he thought that God’s will was something that contradicted our efforts, he’d go with God.”

“Maybe he doesn’t trust us,” Jaxon suggested.

“Could be,” Karp agreed. “He’s indicated before that he thinks the DAO, as well as federal law enforcement agencies, have been infiltrated by evil demons. The only people I know that he seems to trust completely are Marlene, and particularly Lucy.”

“What about you?” Newbury asked.

“He knows that my office would prosecute him for homicide if he was caught,” Karp replied. “I’d have no choice, except that I’d probably have to ask the state attorney general to appoint a special prosecutor to avoid any conflict of interest.”

“Lucy wanted to try to find him herself. In fact, I had to order her to avoid contact or she’d have gone underground to look,” Jaxon said. “We’d already sent a team in several weeks ago to look for Grale and al-Sistani. All they found were rats and a maze of tunnels and sewers. But the squad leader told me that he and his men felt they were being watched the whole time. It gave him, and I quote, ‘the heebie-jeebies,’ and this guy is a former SEAL. No way I was letting Lucy go in, especially by herself like she wanted.”

“Well, thank God for that,” Karp said. “Even if no one else bothered her, I don’t like these reports about David Grale’s mental health these days. I believe he’s what we in the legal profession would call ‘a danger to himself and others.’”

“M
OM
…D
AD…DO YOU HAVE A MINUTE?”

Sitting on the couch in the loft, Karp looked up from his book,
The Tipping Point
by Malcolm Gladwell. Marlene, who had been resting her head on his lap and purring as he absently used his free hand to massage her dark curls, lifted herself onto an elbow.

Something in their daughter’s voice elevated their parental alert system from yellow to orange. Even Gilgamesh, the big presa canario hound, lifted his mammoth head as his nose and nub of a tail twitched in anticipation.

Lucy had just walked into the living room with Ned from the bedroom/office down the hall. Both were blushing as they held hands, which seemed to be the only thing that kept the young cowboy from bolting out the door. Always shy, he looked nervous as hell compared to their daughter’s beaming countenance.

“Sure, sweetheart, all the time in the world if it’s for you,” Karp replied, though he was getting a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Good because we have something to tell you,” Lucy began hesitantly.

“Oh God, you’re pregnant!” Marlene groaned, sitting upright and scanning her daughter as if looking for some telltale sign of impend
ing motherhood that she had somehow missed an hour earlier at dinner. Gilgamesh barked and ran to the door, hoping that someone had invited him out for a walk.

“Geez, Mom,” Lucy replied, as if her mother had uttered the dumbest statement in the history of mankind. “But…well, actually, Ned has something to say first.” She tugged her boyfriend, who was standing a little behind her, forward.

Blanchett’s face had assumed the coloring of a maraschino cherry and he had to clear his throat several times before he managed to stammer, “I…uh…well, I meant to try to ask you this in private…man to man,” he said, addressing Karp. “But…um…I have to leave tonight for a little while and there didn’t seem to be any other opportunities…”

Man to man? What is this?
Karp wondered, and then he understood. Theoretically he’d known that this day would come, but he was no more prepared for it than he was to hear that Ned was taking his daughter to Mars. He looked over at Marlene, whose face was undergoing a transformation from “very concerned” to “dawning realization” as a smile crept onto her lips and tears sprang to her eyes.

“That’s okay, Ned,” Marlene said for him. “You go right on ahead and tell us what’s on your mind.”

Ned looked at Marlene gratefully and nodded. “Thanks. I wanted to do this proper but looks like I’m just gonna have to shoot from the hip now…. I ain’t much good at talking, so I’ll just spit it out.” He drew himself up to his full height. “Sir, Mr. Karp…”

“Butch,” Marlene offered softly.

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” the young man replied. “Anyway, Mr. Karp, sir, what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to ask for your daughter’s…” He pointed with his free hand to Lucy as if there might be some confusion regarding whom he was talking about. “Um, hand in marriage.” He stopped talking, though his pronounced Adam’s apple continued to bob up and down in his throat, which he kept trying to clear.

Karp felt all eyes turn to him, even the dog’s, and realized that his mouth was hanging open like a fish at Fulton’s Fish Market. Marlene poked him in the ribs. “You’ve just been asked a question.”

In all his years on the planet, Karp had never been at a loss for words except at the births of his three children: overcome with love for his wife and the tiny wrinkled babies she’d produced, he’d been speechless. He hadn’t expected that this question would have the same effect, but the reality that the better part of Lucy’s love would now be dedicated to another man hit him like a punch in the kidneys.

“Yeah, I know,” he said huskily, trying to smile through his own tears. Marlene seemed to realize what was going through his head and leaned her head on his shoulder and rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay, babe,” she whispered. “She’ll always be your little girl.”

Karp nodded. “I take it you’ve already asked Lucy?” he croaked.

Ned glanced quickly at Lucy, a little confused. “Uh, well, yes, I have…sorry, I know that was putting the saddle on before the blanket, but I figured there wouldn’t be much point asking you if she was just going to say no…”

Karp held up his hand. “You don’t have to apologize. I asked Marlene before I dared approach her dad.” He sighed as he looked at his daughter, noting again the changes in her.

Lucy had blossomed. Physically, she’d filled out with plenty of womanly curves—though muscular from living a ranch life with Ned; even the prominence of her Roman nose had receded as her face grew fuller. But more than the physical changes, he’d noted the maturation in her voice and eyes—as if the wise woman who’d always been inside had decided that it was time to show herself. He knew those eyes had witnessed more terrible things than any young woman in her twenties should have, and a certain amount of maturity could be expected from that. However, with Lucy it was more than unfortunate experience that made her the woman she was now, it was her determination to conquer her fears by confronting them head-on.

Especially since signing on with Espey,
he thought. He respected her decision, but had a hard time accepting it when she announced that she was working in the lethal field of counterterrorism. He’d argued that there were a lot of other, less dangerous ways to contribute to her country. But she’d essentially told him to buzz off; it wasn’t his decision to make.

Ned Blanchett had changed, too. He’d always had a wiry toughness about him, and when faced with danger—particularly in defense of Lucy—he’d reacted decisively and lethally. But he, too, had grown beyond the young man he’d been since joining Jaxon. Karp, who’d been a fan of Western movies since childhood, thought Blanchett epitomized that image of the heroic archetype. Strong. Silent. Brave. Loyal. And deadly when necessary.

“
Dad!
” Lucy shouted, stomping her foot for emphasis. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Karp blinked. He hadn’t realized that he was taking a long time to answer. He looked at his daughter. “Did you accept?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Are you
trying
to be obtuse? Of course I accepted. I love Ned, and I want to be his wife more than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life. But he wanted to get your blessing…a silly chauvinistic practice, if you ask me, like a woman is some sort of commodity to be exchanged between consenting males…after all, I am quite capable of making my own—”

Her father held his hand up. “Nothing silly about it,” he replied. “I appreciate the the gesture, Ned.” He stood up and crossed the room with his hand outstretched. “Or should I call you son?”

Grinning and blushing even harder, Ned pumped his hand vigorously. “I’m so durned happy right now, you can call me a lowdown snake in the grass, if you want.”

Then everybody was laughing and crying and hugging. The twins, who’d been in their room, came out to see what the commotion was all about and were soon immersed in the festivities with their new brother-in-law, while Gilgamesh pranced around the group barking with joy.

A few minutes later, with Marlene on the telephone telling her father the news and the twins wrestling with Ned, Lucy walked up to her father and laid her head on his chest. “I love you, Daddy.”

Karp wrapped his arms around her, remembering the times he’d held her in the past. “I love you, too, Luce. I have from the moment the doctor handed you to me after you were born. Just remember
what your mom said, you’ll be Ned’s wife, but you’ll always be my little girl.”

“Always, Daddy…always and forever.”

The embrace lasted until they both became aware of Ned standing off to one side, his black Stetson in one hand. “Sorry to interrupt,” he apologized. “But I need to skedaddle. Mr. Jaxon and some of the others are waiting for me back at the corral. We’re leaving directly from there before sunup tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” Karp asked before realizing that he wasn’t going to get much of an answer.

Ned smiled. “To talk to a man about a horse. Sorry, Mr. Karp, but I’m not allowed to say.”

“No need to apologize. I forgot you’re not just an old cowhand from the Rio Grande anymore.”

“I still have an old Roy Rogers album with that song on it,” Ned said, laughing. “Boy howdy, I used to love that show—saw all the reruns on the local Taos station when I was a kid.”

“You’re still a kid,” Karp said, and shook his hand again. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will,” Ned replied, and turned to Lucy. “Walk me out?”

“With pleasure, you good-lookin’ cowpoke, you.”

“Shucks, ma’am, if’n I’d a-knowed that you was gonna lay it on with all that honey, I’d a-asked yew to marry me a long time ago,” Ned replied, laying it on a bit thick himself. He set the Stetson on his head, took his Marlboro Man sheepskin-lined coat off the rack next to the front door, and shrugged it on.

“Come on, Gilgamesh,” Lucy said to the dog, who was watching their every move and sprang up at the invitation. “Let’s go for a walk. At least I’ll have one big strong male to walk me around the block.”

The couple and the dog left the apartment, got on the elevator, and rode it to the ground-level foyer, where Ned and Lucy looked up and waved at the security camera.

Upstairs, Karp was looking at the monitor near the door and waved back, although they couldn’t see him. He continued to watch as
they checked a different monitor in the foyer that was connected to a camera outside the entrance. Apparently there was no one suspicious lurking outside the building, so they left and disappeared around the corner onto Grand Avenue, where, Karp suspected, a car would be waiting for Blanchett.

As they left his sight, Karp felt a shadow cross his heart.
It’s the worst that could happen.
Lucy and Ned may have matured into strong individuals, even ones capable of looking after themselves, but they were up against people who had no regard for human life. He let out a deep breath and turned away from the monitor. At least it didn’t appear that Lucy would be going away on whatever mission Ned had declined to discuss.

The more immediate concern, of course, was that some unknown boy, and presumably whatever adult was telling him what to say, knew about Lucy’s clandestine activities.

Therefore, whatever message Andy was trying to send with “Casa Blanca” and “art of war” needed to be taken seriously, Karp thought as he watched his daughter return from Grand Avenue and walk past the building with Gilgamesh.

Two hours later, he was lying in bed with Marlene discussing “Andy” and his own concerns for Lucy’s safety when the telephone rang. His heart skipped a beat….
No good news arrives at midnight,
he thought.

“Hello?” he answered. Karp sat straight up in bed. “Oh no,” he groaned. “Yeah, Clay, I’ll be waiting. Ten minutes.” He hung up the telephone.

Taking in the stunned look on her husband’s face, Marlene blinked hard and then dared to ask, “What happened?”

“Stewbie Reed is dead,” Karp said as he slid out of bed and began to dress.

“Oh my God,” Marlene cried. “How?”

Karp stopped and stood gazing out the window of their bedroom. “Apparently he hung himself.”

“I can’t believe it,” Marlene said, getting up. “Why would he do something like that?”

When Butch didn’t answer, Marlene guessed what he was thinking. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said.

“I don’t know,” Karp said. “Maybe I was too hard on him. Maybe assigning Katz to help on the case pushed him over the edge. I knew the case was eating at him and he blamed himself. Maybe I should have—”

“Butch, it was not your fault,” Marlene said again. “Losing a case is not a reason to kill yourself; prosecutors lose cases. Stewbie has been around a long time, this wasn’t his first hung jury. There had to be something else going on.”

Karp’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe…. Anyway, I need to go. Fulton’s sending a car to take me over to Stewbie’s apartment in the Village.” He started to leave the room but hesitated in the doorway.

“Butch…”

“Yeah, I know, it wasn’t my fault,” he said as he walked out.