Catch & Neutralize (23 page)

Chapter 42

Arriving home after two weeks, Mark felt no surprise seeing a vehicle he didn’t recognize sitting in the driveway. Instead of pulling straight into the garage, he stopped next to the vehicle, jumped out, and placed a hand on its hood. Still warm. Angie wasn’t having some mysterious sleepover.

Unless, she and
Big Boy
Pilfer just got back from some outrageous party and were going at it this very moment…

Stop it! Stop it right now!

Mark pulled his SUV into the garage and collected his luggage. If something was going on, so be it. Let him catch her in the act. He refused to sneak into his own home. No more games. Head held high, he strode inside.

Cozy warmth from the fire licked Mark’s skin as he entered. Angie sat in the den, her usual chair with Rubix snoozing in his. Across from them on the sofa sat a black man dressed in a suit. He held a glass of bourbon.

Mark cautious, suspicious: “Hi, Angie. Who’s your friend?”

She didn’t pounce up, didn’t make a scene as Mark anticipated. Instead, Angie smiled and said, “Welcome home, darling. I’m so happy to see you. I’ve missed you so.”

She got up from her chair slowly, almost lazily, and kissed him. Turning, she held a hand towards the stranger. “This is Kyle Caldwell. He’s your brother.”

Mark lost grip of his luggage. It plunked to the floor and fell over. Rubix jumped from his sleep to the back of the chair, meowing. Mark walked slowly to his chair and plopped down, trying to clear his head.

He looked at Angie, blinking slowly, deliberately. “What? Is this some kind of twisted joke? My brother died at birth.”

“I know. This is big news. It’s news to all of us. I’ll let Kyle tell you what happened.” Angie massaged Mark’s shoulders. “I’ve got some news of my own, but first, meet your twin brother.”

“I need a drink,” Mark said starting to get up.

Angie pushed him down gently and placed a glass of bourbon in his hand. “Thought you might. I had one waiting for you.”

Mark downed his drink, placed the glass on the table, and folded hands under his chin. To Kyle: “You’re my long lost twin brother? The one they say died in the doctor’s arms?”

“I know how it sounds, Mark, but it’s true. It was difficult for me to believe it at first too. Take your time. Let it sink in.”

Rubix jumped in Mark’s lap, one-eyeballing him expectantly. His sandpaper tongue lapped at Mark’s hand.

Mark petted the cat and stared at Kyle, noticing similarities. “Our eyes are the same,” he said, “but, we’re not identical. You have more gray.”

Kyle laughed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.” He held his glass towards Angie. “Could I have another, please?”

Angie refilled both Kyle’s and Mark’s glasses. “I’ll let you guys talk. I’ll grab some snacks.”

Kyle spoke first. “I didn’t believe I had a twin until I saw your picture. I was adopted, by the way. I don’t know all the details, but I’m guessing it was a mistake. Hospitals weren’t as careful with regard to babies and parents back in the day. Now newborns are kept on lockdown, most stay in the room with their birth mothers, ID required for visitors and even for fathers.”

Mark took a deep breath. “This is remarkable, finding out my brother is alive and well living in New Mexico. I’d want a DNA test to be sure, but damn, the resemblance is unmistakable.” His eyes explored Kyle’s face and hands. “It’s part of my specialty. I’m a geneticist.”

“That’s what Angie was telling me. She says you’re famous in the scientific world.”

“A little, I suppose,” Mark shrugged. “What do you do for a living, Kyle?”

“I’m an attorney, criminal law.” Kyle pulled a business card and handed it to Mark. “My cell is listed. Call me anytime.”

Angie walked in with three glass bowls atop a bamboo tray: cashews, pretzels, and chocolate covered peanuts. She set the tray on the table and took her seat. “Here we are. Snacks. I’ve got lasagna in the oven. Should be ready in about thirty minutes.” Her lips uplifted into a warm smile. “How’re you two getting along?”

Mark: “Perfectly.”

Kyle bowed his head and lifted his glass as though making a toast.

“Happy to hear it,” Angie said. To Mark: “I’m sure you guys have a lot of catching up to do, but I have to tell you something first. It’s about your snooping and following me around.”

Mark’s eyes widened. He looked from Angie to Kyle and back to Angie. He felt embarrassed. This was a conversation best left for a more private time, not something to be shared with his newly found sibling. “Angie…”

“It’s okay, Mark, Kyle should be here. It involves him.”

Mark leaned back in his chair, bracing himself against whatever Angie was about to throw next. Rubix meowed in protest of being rearranged.

“Kyle and I work for a secret society run by women. It’s called the Catch & Neutralize Institute, also referred to as CAN Institute or simply The Institute. Although not a part of the government, we work closely with them to catch criminals.” Angie stopped, allowing Mark to take in the information.

Mark sat silently for a moment and then burst into laughter.

“Mark, I’m not kidding. That’s why I leave and return at weird hours, stay gone for days, and sneak around keeping to myself. Being a secretary is just my back-story, my cover. My real job is being a soldier for the Catch & Neutralize Institute. Kyle’s one of their attorneys.”

Looking to Kyle for confirmation, Mark’s smile dissolved. “You’re serious?”

Angie placed a hand on top of Mark’s, held it. “Yes, I’m totally serious. The Institute found out you’ve been following me, an extremely risky task for someone untrained. You have no idea about the assignments, no idea of what’s going on. The Institute instructed me to inform you of my position. Usually, spouses are kept in the dark. It’s less dangerous that way.” She patted Mark’s hand. “Leave it to my husband to be to the one to cause trouble,” She finished, laughing softly.

Mark didn’t find anything funny about this revelation. “So, you’re not cheating on me? You’re out on extremely dangerous assignments catching criminals?”

“Correct,” Angie said and held up the bowl of chocolate covered peanuts. “Anyone care to taste my nuts?”

Kyle chuckled and grabbed a handful while Mark rubbed his temples.

Kyle: “You’re a hoot, Angie, plus smart and beautiful. My twin is a lucky man.”

Mark ignored the silliness and compliments, not in the mood under these insane circumstances. “How long has this been going on?” He asked Angie, terrified of the possibilities and unable to believe his wife had been keeping such a huge secret.

“Three years,” Angie said, throwing a peanut up and catching it in her mouth. This display was both playfully Angie and out of character.

Mark rubbed his forehead. He hadn’t had a clue, had only recently suspected Angie of having an affair. He had so many questions that needed answering.

“I’ve been with The Institute for seventeen years,” Kyle offered. “It’s interesting work, difficult and risky at times, but we provide a great service for our country. And, a personal bonus, we’re well paid.”

Mark gulped down the last of his bourbon. To Angie: “I’m willing to support whatever career choice you make, but for God’s sake, stop putting whatever that crap is in my drinks.”

Angie covered her mouth, caught. “I’m so sorry, Mark. A sleeping pill and muscle relaxer to keep you from knowing I was away. Now that you know what’s going on, I’ll never do that to you again. I promise.” She got up from her chair and kissed his head. “There’s none in the drinks you just had, by the way.”

“Good to know. Damn, I really thought I was going crazy: feeling tired all the time, sleeping long hours, sometimes unsure if I’m dreaming or awake. I may have hallucinated. I started wondering if I had brain cancer. Sleeping pills kick my ass, Angie. I thought you knew.”

“I knew you didn’t like them, but not the effects they had on you. I’ll never give them to you again, not without your permission.” Angie kissed the top of his head again. “I’m so happy you’re okay with everything. It’s such a relief not having to keep secrets anymore.”

Kyle stood. “I’ve got to get home. Thanks for the drinks.” He held his hand out to Mark.

Mark stood, took Kyle’s hand and pulled him closer in a hug. “I’m glad you found me, brother. I’ll call you soon, when all of this sinks in.” He let go, his hands sliding down Kyle’s arms.

Angie waved as Mark escorted Kyle out. “Next time stay for dinner,” she called.

~

Angie’s homemade lasagna steamed and bubbled in the glass casserole dish on the table. Scents of Italian spices and melted cheese wafted through the dining room. Candlelight danced over the walls.

Mark brought his wine glass up, sipped a medium-bodied
Cabernet Sauvignon. “Looks and smells delicious,” he said referring to the lasagna.

Angie cut a small piece for herself and handed the serving utensil to Mark. “Let’s hope it tastes that way.”

Previous tension long gone, Mark and Angie enjoyed each other’s company. Despite Angie’s typical cooking, the lasagna tasted wonderful, the wine a perfect pairing. Talk revolved around planning a romantic weekend getaway at a secluded bed and breakfast in the mountains.

After they’d had their fill, Mark swept Angie into his arms and carried her upstairs. That night, they made love with a hot, fiery passion that only two people truly in love experience.

Mark awoke to Angie staring into a compact makeup case, her face pale. He sat up, trying to read her expression and failing. “Everything okay? You’re not worrying over your looks again, are you? You’re so beautiful, Angie. Please stop. No more plastic surgeries, okay?”

“It’s not that, honestly. I’ve got a follow-up assignment after work tonight. I usually get more time in between missions, but there’s no set schedule. I have to go when needed.” She handed the compact to Mark. “This is how The Institute communicates with its soldiers.”

Mark took the compact, read the message:

Target: J.D. Pilfer (aka Tristan Bellamy), Corner Stone Hotel, 8 p.m., Engage & Wait for Instruction.

A photo of James Dean Pilfer appeared underneath.

“Oh God,” Mark whispered. “Not Pilfer. This guy keeps a human head in his refrigerator.”

Angie took the compact. “Not surprised,” she said getting out of bed. “I’ve been on long-term assignment trying to catch this guy. Pilfer’s been pretty slick about not getting caught. His job is making and selling drugs, giving commands to underdogs mostly. He’s the top dog in that respect. He gives orders, doesn’t get his own hands dirty. Last week an elementary school kid overdosed on one of his concoctions. Kid’s in the hospital, not sure if he’ll make it.” Grabbing clothes from drawers, she turned and asked Mark, “How did you know?”

“I overheard you on the phone calling Pilfer
‘Big Boy’
and thought he was your lover. I checked phone records, got his address, and went to confront him. There was no answer when I knocked, but the front door was unlocked. And that head was just sitting there, chilled, wrapped in plastic like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

Bending down, Angie kissed Mark’s cheek. “Yeah, he’s a real creep. The head belongs to one of his low-life dealers, Danny McAlister, beheaded for skimming drugs and a chunk of profits. Pilfer likes to go by the name Tristan Bellamy now. These losers and their damn identity issues, I can’t get used to all the name changing in this business.”

Rubix jumped on the bed and sat on Mark’s legs, nose-bumping his hand.

“This sounds extremely dangerous, Angie.” Mark rubbed Rubix’s head, scratched under his chin. “I’m worried about you doing this soldier job.”

Moving to the bathroom with clothes in tow, she said over her shoulder, “Don’t worry. I’ve been baiting Pilfer for months. He’s no match for your wife.” She turned, winked, and blew Mark a kiss before closing the door.

Chapter 43

Angie locked the door and pulled out the blue Tiffany’s box hidden in a drawer. She wasn’t sure how Mark would feel about her keeping such a gift from a target, but she figured it was a job perk, one that seldom happened. The exact piece she wanted, but couldn’t bring herself to roll out that much dough. 22K was a lot of dough rolling for a necklace.

Angie planned to keep it. She’d earned it.

Length of time she’d be away was uncertain, but it looked to be a couple days. She wasn’t looking forward to telling Mark, but at least she didn’t have to keep secrets anymore. She was sick of all the lying, sick of drugging him, sick of sneaking around. It made her feel as bad as if she’d actually been having an affair. Now she felt free, all the weighty lies confessed.

Angie started packing after her shower. Rubix made a stealthy jump to the dresser, always interested in happenings around the house, always putting himself center of attention.

She ran a hand down his furry back. “Well, hello, nosey boy.

Mark came up behind with a cup of coffee, hugging Angie.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “I’m guessing this assignment has you going out of town?”

“Not out of town, just away for a couple days. Maybe. I can’t be sure. I’ll text you when I know.” Angie turned, the Tiffany Key sparkling against her chest.

“Wow! Where are my sunglasses?” Mark teased, shielding his eyes. He lifted the pendant, inspecting it. “Isn’t this from…?”

“Yeah, Tiffany’s in New York City. I didn’t buy it.”

“Where’d it come from? Your fake boyfriend buy it for you?”

Angie snickered followed by an eye roll. “Not exactly. It’s a gift from Pilfer. I have to wear it. But, I’d wear it even if I didn’t have to.”

“You know I would’ve bought it for you. Doesn’t make me feel good that someone else did, especially a guy with a severed human head setting next to food he plans to eat.”

“You know I would’ve been mad at you for wasting money. I got it free, so of course I’m keeping it. Think of it as a professional courtesy.” Angie planted a kiss on Mark’s mouth. “A bonus.”

“I would’ve been happy to buy it for you,” Mark insisted.

“I know. Like I said, waste of money. You know how I am.”

“Cheap?”

“And easy. But, only for you.” Angie traced a finger around one of his buttons. “And, I prefer the term thrifty.” She jabbed the finger at his chest, a smile quaking just underneath her pout.

Mark laughed. “All right, thrifty. I’ll get you the matching earrings. And, bracelet, if they make one.”

“Oh, stop.” Angie’s eyes matched the gleam of her necklace. “I know you love me. You don’t need to prove it by buying me expensive stuff.” She lifted the necklace from her chest. “This doesn’t mean anything. I just like the way it looks.” She let the necklace fall back down. “If it bothers you that much, I won’t wear it after this assignment. Not much, anyway.” Angie turned, started packing again.

“No,” Mark said hugging her again from behind. “You should wear it. Just know I’m going to buy you something better, and you’re not allowed to get mad about it.”

Angie faced him. “You’re too silly, Dr. Carter. I’m not the material girl you think I am. Just keep giving me your sweet love, and I’ll stay the happiest woman in the world.”

“I’ll love you forever, Mrs. Carter. You’ll never have to worry about that. Please be careful on this assignment. Call me if you need help or anything.” Mark looked at his watch. “And now, time for this Dr. Carter to go stamp out genetic disease.”

A lingering goodbye kiss left Angie flushed and breathless. Tuesday was already going in the right direction.

Angie slid into a form fitting shirt of black satin with fuchsia collar, matching skirt, and a pair of patent leather heels. A leather coat tied at the waist completed her ensemble. Even with a pistol hidden inside, her handbag felt as light as her mood. Working as a secretary was not going to bring her down.

Secretary by day, soldier by night.

No.

More accurately:
always
a soldier, a secretary when necessary.

She wondered if Gary Steinberg would be there today after being chained in Tiffany’s dungeon over the weekend. She wondered what The Institute does with people like him, wondered how they explain crazy crap like that.

Angie slid a gooey wand of gloss over her lips and blew herself a kiss in the mirror.

The diamond necklace sparkled against her chest.