COLLATERAL CASUALTIES (The Kate Huntington mystery series) (12 page)

            “He’s got a gun,” Richard squeaked.

            The officers tensed, their hands flying to their holsters. Kate had just stepped out of the bedroom, another bag of clothes in her arms. “He’s a licensed investigator!” she shouted.

            Skip let go of Richard and raised his hands in the air. “I’ve got a license to carry concealed.” He cocked his head in Mac’s direction as the latter came out of the study. “He’s carrying too. Also a PI, duly licensed.”

            Mac stopped and slowly lowered the box he was carrying to the floor. He straightened, keeping his hands well away from his body.

            “Gentlemen, I need to see your weapons and your licenses to carry,” the older officer said, his hand still on the butt of his gun. “Please remove them slowly, one at a time.”

            Skip turned to the side so the officers could watch as he used two fingers to remove his granddaddy’s pearl-handled .38 from its waistband holster. He was praying the officers wouldn’t decide to confiscate it. Laying it on an end table well out of Richard’s reach, he then slowly extracted the thin leather wallet that held his PI and carry licenses from his back pocket.

            Mimicking Skip’s slow movements, Mac handed over his wallet, then pulled his Glock out of its waistband holster.

            “How the hell does he keep his pants up carrying that thing around?” Janice said
sotto voce.

            No one laughed, but the tension in the room eased as the officers examined Mac’s and Skip’s credentials. The senior officer nodded, handing the wallets back, and the men retrieved their guns. Mac picked up the box of papers and went out the door.

            Richard pointed at Skip. “Arrest that man, officers. I’m pressing charges for assault.”

            Skip’s jaw tightened. Was this guy for real? “I grabbed your wrist because you were reaching for my gun.”
Asshole!
he mentally added.

            “I was just going to point it out to the officers. How dare you bring a gun into my home.” Richard’s attempt at the irate innocent party fell flat. Janice was glaring at him.

            Kate dropped the bag of clothes by the door. “My husband is a former police officer,” she said, exasperation in her voice. “Mr. Reilly is ex-military. They rarely leave their homes unarmed.”

            That explanation seemed to satisfy the officers. Off-duty police were expected to carry, just in case they ran into a bad situation. It was a hard habit to break.

            A flash of movement caught Skip’s attention. He and Kate both lunged for Janice but they weren’t fast enough.

            She launched herself at Richard. Planting her hand flat against his chest, she shoved him. He stumbled backward until his legs hit the edge of the sofa. He sat down hard. Janice loomed over him, full-blown fury on her face. “I can’t believe I married an idiot!”

            The police officers moved quickly. The younger cop grabbed Janice’s arm and pulled her away from Richard. “Mrs. Browning,” the senior officer said in a calming voice. “Please, let us handle this.”

            As the officer turned back toward the sofa, Skip caught the hard look in his eyes. His mouth was set in a grim line.

            Skip wasn’t sure who the cop was pissed at, but he soon found out.

            “Arrest her! Assault and bat...” Richard’s voice trailed off as the officer’s expression registered.

            “Mr. Browning, if you wish to press charges, you are welcome to come down to the precinct tomorrow and do so.” The officer’s voice was low and even. “In the meantime, I’d suggest
you avoid further provocation, until your wife has finished removing her belongings.”

            Doing a poor job of hiding a smirk, Janice turned to Kate. “Help me pack my mother’s china, would you?”

~~~~~~~

            Back at the house, they hauled the poor cat and the bags of clothes up onto the porch. The men took the truck around to the alley to put the boxes in the small garage on the back of the property.

            Kate led the way inside. “I’ll take the cat up and get her settled,” Janice said, heading for the stairs with the carrier.

            Kate recapped the events of the evening to Rose as they stashed Janice’s clothes temporarily in the study.

            Then Kate headed for the refrigerator. She was famished, but first things first. She was pulling out a bottle of Chardonnay when Janice came into the kitchen.

            Kate brought the bottle and a fistful of wineglasses to the table. “Have a seat. I’ll get some dinner started and then we can relax for a bit.” She headed back to the refrigerator.

            Rose shook her head vehemently. “Janice, first rule of survival around here. Never eat anything Kate cooks.” She walked over and nudged Kate out of the way with her hip. “I’ll cook.”

            “Hey, even I can heat up leftovers,” Kate said with mock indignation.

            Rose just arched an eyebrow at her. “And there are so many leftovers, why? Because Maria cooks for an army on Fridays so you don’t poison the family over the weekend.”

            Kate grinned at her. “You’re just pissy ’cause you missed all the fun.”

            An hour later they were pushing back from the table. Mac patted his stomach and belched.

            “What did I just eat anyway?” Janice asked. When Rose started rattling off the names of dishes in Spanish, she held up her hand. “That was a rhetorical question. It was all delicious.” She raised her wineglass to them, her eyes shiny. “Thank you all so much.”

            “Aw, damn. She’s gonna get mushy on us,” Mac grumbled.

            Blinking away the tears, Janice grabbed the wine bottle–the second of the evening–and topped off her glass from the dregs. “Seriously, I really appreciate your help. And I won’t be under foot long. I’ve got a hearing in the morning, but tomorrow afternoon I’ll start looking for a new place.”

~~~~~~~

            It wasn’t as easy to fit apartment hunting into her busy schedule as Janice had hoped it would be. By Wednesday, she’d managed to see several places but wasn’t thrilled with any of them. She’d discovered, however, that the idea of having a place all to herself, with no one to answer to but the cat, was downright exciting.

            She was in her office bright and early Wednesday morning, hoping to get caught up enough on some critical paperwork to be able to look at a few more apartments that afternoon.

            Her admin assistant buzzed to tell her that State Senator Tobias Robinson was on line one. Janice picked up her phone. “Good morning, Senator.”

            “Not so good, I’m afraid,” the senator responded. “My son was arrested last night for driving under the influence.”

            “No, not good.” Janice listened while the senator barked in her ear for a few minutes. Then she said, “Let me call the Baltimore County State’s Attorney. See what I can do.”

            She placed the call herself. “Hey, Phil,” she said when the SA came on the line. “How are the wife and kids?”

            “Cut the crap, Janice. What do you want?”

            “Ah, Phil, you’re always a breath of fresh air. I believe one of your boys in blue arrested Senator Robinson’s son last night for DUI?”

            “How the hell would I know? They don’t call me in for every pissant thing.”

            “Of course not. Let me rephrase the question. Suppose one of your good officers had arrested a senator’s son on a DUI, and suppose said senator had shredded the boy’s driver’s license and was in the process of getting him admitted into a thirty-day rehab facility. Could we make said DUI go away without the press ever getting wind of it?”

            “Get me the shredded driver’s license.” The SA disconnected.

            Janice called the senator back. Then she called Skip. “Hey, Tex. I hate to degrade you by using you as an errand boy but I have a matter that requires the utmost discretion.”

            “You sound pretty damn chipper for a filly who just got herself unhitched from her stallion.”

            Janice snorted. “Stallion, schmallion, he hasn’t been getting it up for years.”

            “Way too much information,” Skip said, but with a chuckle in his voice.

            “Sorry. On a serious note, I need you to go to Senator Robinson’s house out in Reisterstown and get an envelope for me.”

            “Am I allowed to know what’s in the envelope?”

            “His son’s driver’s license, shredded. The dumb kid’s only been driving six months and he got a DUI last night.”

            “And the shredded license will accomplish what, other than keeping the rest of us safe on the roads?”

            “SA’s going to drop charges if I prove Daddy’s holding Sonny Boy’s feet to the fire.”

            “Got it. What’s the senator’s address?”

            Skip was in Janice’s office with the envelope by ten. He dropped it on her desk, then plopped down in her visitor’s chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

            “So how’s it going, Streak?” he asked.

            She lifted an eyebrow. “Streak?”

            “Hey, if I’m Tex, then you’re Streak.”

            “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your guest room soon.”

            “I’m not the least bit worried. Although you oughta be. My kids are gonna fight you tooth and nail for possession of Peaches.”

            Janice smiled. “Is it okay for them to have a kitten? I want to take them to the Humane Society and let them pick one out. I might get a companion for Peaches while I’m at it. She may get lonely without my loser husband hanging around the house all the time.”

            “Janice, are you really as okay about this as you’re pretending to be?”

            She chuckled. “Hell, if I’d known getting divorced could be this much fun, I would’ve done it years ago. I had a blast yesterday looking at new apartments. I’m gonna rent for a year, then see where I want to live. I might buy a townhouse, do a little gardening.”

            Skip cocked an eyebrow at her without saying anything.

            “Yes, I’m really okay,” she said in a more serious tone. “I feel...
liberated
is probably the best word for it. I hadn’t realized just how much Richard was sucking the life out of me. Even homeless, I’m happier than I’ve been in years.”

            Skip smiled at her. “Don’t feel like you’ve got to rush into a deal on a new place. We’re happy to have you. Edie thinks you’re awesome. And Billy informed me over breakfast that I need to learn how to make cool sound effects like Aunt Janice when I tell stories.”

            Janice grinned. “Sorry to have raised the bar there for you, Tex. You never answered me about the kitten.”

            “I’ll have to ask Kate, and Maria for that matter, since she’ll end up being the one to supervise the kids taking care of it.”

            Skip pushed himself to a stand. “Well, I better get going. See you tonight at the house.” He froze, his gaze fixed on the
Washington Post
lying on her desk.

            She leaned closer to examine the picture he was staring at. A stocky, bearded Hispanic stood next to an elegant woman. His head was turned to one side, looking at the President who was shaking the woman’s hand. The First Lady stood off to the side.

            Janice read the caption.
Ambassador Juan Garcia of Colombia and his wife attended a recent White House function. The Colombian president will be paying a state visit to the U.S. later this month
. The story didn’t sound all that interesting to her but Skip seemed transfixed.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “This is the bastard,” Skip muttered.

            “What bastard?” Janice asked.

            “Remember when I told you Kate was upset about a client but couldn’t tell me why...” His voice trailed off.

            “Come on, Tex, you can’t stop there.”

            Skip just shook his head.

            Janice grabbed the paper and turned it around on her desk so she could study it. “So one of these guys is the bastard who did what? Not the ladies and I would hope you’re not referring to our President. So it must be this ambassador dude. What’d he do?”

            Skip winced.

            Janice made a gimme motion with her hand. She wanted the juicy details.

            “Man, you’re like a dog with a bone,” he said. “Sorry, but it’s confidential. All I can say is that the situation has created some risk for Kate. We think we have things under control, but it might not be a bad idea after all, for you to find your own place soon.”

            Janice arched an eyebrow at him. When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “You’re killing me here with curiosity, but I certainly get client confidentiality. I’m looking at a couple more apartments later. I can probably get something temporary lined up in a day or two.”

            “Sorry. We should have thought about this before we invited you to stay.”

            “That’s okay. You were responding to a friend in need, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all your help.”

            Skip held up the newspaper.

            “Take it,” Janice answered the implied question.

            Thanks,” Skip said. He was pulling out his cell phone as he left her office.

            She picked up her phone to call the State’s Attorney and tell him she had the shredded license in her possession. Then she called the senator.

            Janice operated in a world of
quid pro quo.
She gave the senator the good news that his son’s record was being expunged, then she asked for a favor in return. If this Ambassador Garcia from Colombia was up to something that was putting American citizens at risk, maybe a discrete investigation would lead to him being recalled. It was the least she could do for Kate and Skip after all they had done for her.

CHAPTER NINE

            Rob and Kate were having their first normal Wednesday lunch in weeks. They met at their favorite restaurant at twelve. Mac Reilly had inherited his parents’ corner bar a decade ago. He had changed its name to Mac’s Place and turned it into a thriving combination of seafood restaurant and Irish pub. Then he’d decided his talents were being wasted as a restauranteur and he’d gotten his PI license.