Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (26 page)

Sheryl was scowling.

"Are you OK?" Aaron said.

"I'm having regrets about taking this job, sir. It's been a rough day."

"It hasn't been that bad."

"Let's see," she said. "Hours of harsh training. A suicide. Torture. Multiple murders. Then you scare the piss out of me."

He shrugged.

"What was the point of knocking down the sign anyway?"

"You haven't figured it out? I thought you were a master of deception and distraction."

"Marina ran into that guy... Oh!" Her eyes widened. "She picked his pocket. She took his wallet. Cool."

The police were interviewing Marina. She wiped her eyes and sniffled realistically as she spun her woeful tale. Her acting abilities always amazed Aaron. She had complete control over every detail of her body language. She could even produce tears at will.

Eventually, the authorities let her go. She headed back towards the casino at first. When she was half-way there, she turned and circled around in the darkness.

Aaron quickly backed away from Tawni and Sheryl. He climbed onto a pickup truck and laid down in the bed. He poked his head up just enough to peek at Marina. Trying to catch her off-guard was always a very difficult challenge. Her ninja skills were even better than his.

She walked behind a black van but didn't come out the other side.
Damn it,
he thought.

He patiently watched his surroundings. She had to reveal herself eventually.

He caught a glimpse of shifting darkness between two cars. He mentally plotted her location and probable routes. He picked a spot where he would have the best chance of ambushing her. Making no noise, he slipped off the back of the pickup truck and worked his way over there.

Marina didn't appear in the place Aaron had expected. He looked back suspiciously. A small foot wearing a green boot smashed his face, stunning him.

"That was for punching me," she said.

He licked his lip and tasted blood. "Fair enough. When did you see me?"

"In the pickup truck. You had a silhouette."

"Crap. Spending all that time in the casino really messed up my head. I'm not focused. Maybe I should meditate when we get home."

They walked over to Tawni and Sheryl.

Marina took a black leather wallet out of her pocket and opened it up. "Our prize," she whispered.

Aaron used his phone to take photographs of the identification inside.

He called Bethany. "I just took some pictures. Tell me about this guy." He put his phone in speaker mode so everybody could hear.

"Yes, sir," she said.

He heard the sound of keys clattering in the background. He knew it wouldn't last long, but having the twins back at their jobs felt great. There was nobody better.

"It's a false identity," Bethany said.

"I expected as much, but it's still an important clue."

"Give us a moment, sir. We have to run a deep search. Maybe we can figure out who created the identity."

"Take your time," Aaron said.

A tow truck had arrived. It was trying to drag the broken casino sign off the parking lot and out of the way. The fire truck had already left, and an evidence collection van had taken its place. The casino employees were leaving the scene of the crime a few at a time.

"It's a CIA cover," Bethany said.

"Huh? Why is the CIA involved in Chicago casinos? It doesn't make sense."

"The man's real name is Neville Cantrell. He was fired from the CIA six years ago and disavowed."

"Why?" he said. "And how can a disavowed spook still be using one of their identities?"

"No more information is available. All the records were purged when he was dismissed. His file was deleted. We're lucky we got that much."

Aaron didn't see Cantrell in the dwindling crowd near the broken sign. Apparently, he had already left.

"Cantrell must have a friend at the CIA," Aaron said. "Somebody gave him a false identity, and that person is getting paid. Look for a CIA employee with an account at Golden Spiral Investments, or one who received a lot of money by trading futures at night."

He heard the keyboard again. He idly wondered what kind of software she was using to perform her search. She had once mentioned she made extensive use of neural nets, whatever those were.

"Sterling Ford," Bethany said. "A senior manager with fifteen years of experience. He lives in Virginia."

Aaron grinned. "Send his file to my phone. I'll read it here."

"Yes, sir. That's all we can do for you tonight. We have to get back to the project now."

"I appreciate the effort. You've been very helpful. Thank you."

She hung up.

A moment later, he received a very large text message on his phone. It was hard to read the material on the small display, so he just skipped forward to the essential details. The words "TOP SECRET" appeared prominently.

"Wife and two kids," Aaron read. "He spent five years in Russia managing intelligence assets. The Russian connection keeps popping up."

Marina had a sour expression.

"What's wrong?"

"You know how I feel about the CIA," she said. "I have a history with that agency."

"What history, ma'am?" Sheryl said.

"Marina used to be a spy," Aaron explained. "Her career was legendary for several reasons, the way it ended being one of them."

"A real spy?" Sheryl stared at Marina with wide eyes.

Marina nodded. "I don't want to talk about it. The point is when I hear about dirty CIA agents, it makes me want to do truly horrible things to them. If I meet Ford, I can't promise all his body parts will stay in their original locations. Maybe it's a good thing I'm going home in the morning."

Aaron felt a rush of sadness. He had been trying to forget that fact.

He went back to reading the notes about Ford.

"Oh," Aaron said, "this is useful. He had a mistress. They broke up a year ago."

"That's in his file?" Sheryl said in a tone of surprise.

"The CIA likes to know all the ugly details about its people. It's a matter of security. I have the same policy."

He took out his wallet and flipped through the identification inside. He found a business card for a Chicago police detective. It was an identity he didn't use often but always kept in good standing. He had once been an actual police detective and had a special fondness for the profession.

He found Ford's home phone number in the notes and dialed it. Aaron put the phone in speaker mode.

A sleepy voice answered after several rings, "Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Sterling Ford?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Detective Frank Geyer," Aaron said, "Chicago PD."

"What's wrong?" Ford answered in a more alert tone.

"We have a dead body on our hands. A suicide. Her name is Holly Homes. I believe you knew her. She mentioned your name several times in her suicide note."

Ford took a long moment before he responded, "Yes, I knew her."

"How, exactly?"

"We were very close friends."

"I think you were more than that," Aaron said. "This is a messy situation. There is a baby involved."

"She has a kid?"

"Yes, Mr. Ford. A six month-old boy. He's in the hospital being treated for dehydration."

Ford took another moment to do some mental arithmetic. "Oh."

"The suicide note included some very sensitive details about you personally."

"Like what?"

"I'll let you read the dirt for yourself," Aaron said. "The press doesn't know about this case, yet, but it's just a matter of time. The department is full of blabber mouths. When this story breaks, it's going to be a scandal. I strongly recommend you take the first flight in the morning to Chicago. You'll want to be seen as a responsible man who is doing the right thing for his neglected son."

"Yes, of course. Thank you for the heads up."

"Here is my number." Aaron read the number off the business card. "Call as soon as you get in. I'll have somebody pick you up at the airport and drive you straight to the station. I want to interview you right away, then you can see your boy."

"I will," Ford said. "I'll buy the plane ticket right now."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."

Aaron hung up.

Sheryl raised her eyebrows. "You're a despicable man, sir, but I have to admit, it was brilliantly played."

He yawned. "Let's go home and get as much sleep as we can. Tomorrow will be another full day."

Chapter Fourteen

Sheryl smiled as the minivan entered the parking lot of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. Floodlights illuminated the entrance and the lower floors. Darkness shrouded the upper stories, making the seamless brown glass almost black. It was a tower of beautiful mysteries, and she loved it. She had found her true home at last.

She was riding shotgun, and Tawni was driving. Aaron and Marina were holding hands in the back seat. They loved each other so much and so openly it made Sheryl jealous. She had never had a relationship like that, not even close.

Tawni stopped the minivan in front of the hotel. Aaron and Marina immediately climbed out and went inside.

Sheryl remained seated. "Where are you going now?"

"My house, of course," Tawni said. "The boss told us to sleep."

"You live near here?"

"About a mile away. It's a nice walk when the weather is good, but I don't have time now. I'll just drive."

Sheryl pursed her lips.

"Shouldn't you be going to bed, too?" Tawni said.

"It's been a tough, scary day for me."

"So?"

"Watching Aaron and Marina together reminded me of how good it feels to have somebody in your life," Sheryl said. "My hotel room is very lonely. I would like to hang out with you tonight."

Tawni just stared at her. The whites of her eyes were floating in a field of black skin.

"We don't have to do anything," Sheryl said. "Being friends is enough."

"I don't have a guest bed."

"I'll sleep on the couch."

Tawni rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm lonely, too."

She drove off. Sheryl grinned.

The trip took only a couple of minutes. Tawni pulled into the driveway of a one-story house made of yellow bricks. The sloped roof peaked on the right side to create a lopsided architecture.

Sheryl followed Tawni to the front door. Instead of opening it right away, Tawni examined the three deadbolt locks.

"What are you looking for?" Sheryl said.

"Scratches," Tawni said. "Be quiet."

Eventually, she opened all three locks with a key. She drew a gun from under her jacket. "Stay." She slipped inside without turning on the light.

Sheryl felt a little silly as she stood alone in front of the house. Insects droned loudly all around her.

A few minutes later, the lights finally came on. Tawni opened the door and invited Sheryl inside.

"What were you doing?"

"Checking for an ambush," Tawni said.

"Was there a specific reason?"

"No, I do it every time."

Sheryl shook her head in dismay. She wasn't accustomed to this level of paranoia.

The main room had a plain, yellow couch, an overstuffed recliner, a coffee table, and a television. All of it was cheap and boring.

"You seem disappointed," Tawni said.

"I'll be honest," Sheryl said. "This décor isn't very interesting."

"When we leave headquarters, we leave our true identities behind. This place says nothing about me. It's generic."

"That makes sense. It's too bad though. I wanted to see how you express yourself." Sheryl pointed to a wooden crucifix on the wall. "Are you religious?"

"It's an old habit," Tawni said, "and it doesn't hurt to show the Big Guy I'm on His team. Do you want to take a shower before you go to bed?"

"Yes, definitely."

Tawni found a fresh towel and a purple nightgown for Sheryl. She went into the small bathroom and found it wasn't very clean. Sheryl imagined scrubbing toilets and sweeping floors wasn't high on Tawni's list of priorities.

The hot shower soothed Sheryl and relaxed her tense muscles. It had been a very stressful day. She took the time to wash her hair with shampoo that smelled like watermelon.

When she got out of the bathroom, she felt refreshed.

"I hope you didn't use all the hot water," Tawni said as she went into the bathroom.

Sheryl wandered around the house while she waited for Tawni to finish bathing. The kitchen was small. The cabinets contained only basic cooking utensils and some canned food. A jug of milk in the fridge was well past its expiration date. Obviously, Tawni didn't eat at home much.

Sheryl went to the television. She flipped through a short stack of DVD's and found titles like "Shogun Assassin" and "Revenge of the Ninja." All the movies involved swords and death.
I thought only teenage boys watched this crap,
Sheryl thought.

A mirror in the corner of the main room went from the floor to the ceiling. It seemed an awkward and pointless location for such a big mirror. She walked over to it.

The mirror was set into the wall instead of mounted on it, which told her it was actually a secret door. Now she had to figure out how to open it. She loved puzzle boxes.

Sheryl couldn't see any seams. She pressed on different spots and felt for a reaction. A slight rocking motion indicated some kind of locking mechanism was behind the mirror. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize what was happening back there. Tiny squeaking noises were additional clues.

After a few minutes of patient experimentation, she determined the right spots to push. It was just a matter of trying all possible combinations. She got lucky and found the right one sooner than she expected. The door popped open.

A closet containing an entire arsenal of weapons was revealed. Tawni had everything from .22 caliber target pistols to real machine guns. Body armor with a black and gray camouflage pattern hung on hangers.

The bathroom door opened. Tawni walked out, still damp and completely nude. Sheryl gasped at the sight of Tawni's tall, athletic body. Her skin was silky smooth. She was magnificent.

"Why are you naked?"