Games of the Heart (Crimson Romance) (31 page)

“Actually,” Monica interrupted my blabbering threats. “We can.” She reached in the pocket of her tailored jeans and pulled out a wallet. She flipped it open. A bright, shiny badge and an identification card glared at me. “You see, Eddie and I are with the FBI. You’re under arrest.”

“Do I have any rights? Can I make a phone call?” I could hear squeaky sounds coming from my mouth.

Monica shook her head. “You’re going to stay in our sights for a few hours, possibly a bit longer, whatever time it takes for the operation to be completed. There’s a sting going on, and we don’t need you to get in the way and mess it up.”

Eddie glowered at me. “It’s our job to keep you entertained.”

“You have no right,” I snapped, but knew that federal agents had whatever rights they wanted. Then I bluffed, “If you really are federal agents, and why should I believe you? What are you up to? Why hold me here?”

Monica motioned me to the sofa. “Just relax, will you? You’re safe here. You won’t get hurt. Please. It’s for your own good, Pastor.”

Eddie watched me, and I knew what a field mouse felt like at a hawk convention. “We don’t trust you.”

“Trust? I trusted you, Eddie, if in fact that is your name. I trusted you when we talked at the shelter. I trusted you when you said you’d help bring a VBS to the mission downtown.”

I tried to give Monica my meanest look, but she just snickered. She was Cruella DeVille after all, but her voice was softer than expected when she said, “Wait, Jane, I am what I am. I’m also an agent, undercover and here in the city. When you followed us last night when we were meeting with other agents, you could have ruined everything, instantly. You were so stupid and close to ruining all our work. Years of it.”

“And what is that everything, and why are you holding my superior here, too?” I looked at the dwarf snuggled in the sofa, and she smiled. I freaked. “No. Not you, too, Louisa. You’re an agent? Well, duh. Of course.” A hysterical belch bubbled up in my chest as I realized why the imposter hadn’t been all that critical of Bob’s potential swindles. She didn’t give a fig in a famine. Why wasn’t I screaming bloody murder? The pressure was there, but the sound didn’t come. That frightened me more.

Monica walked to the wet bar and pulled out four glasses. “Yes, Pastor. This has been an operation for a long time, then you came along and things started to get messy. We have undercover operatives in a lot of locations throughout the country, but with the PSA right here we needed to slowly be accepted into the community. It’s complicated. You’re here so you don’t mess it up while we get the goods on PSA.”

Eddie blocked the door. “Morales — you know him well, we heard. Anyhow, he said you’re quick-witted and cute, but you could be a blabbermouth.”

“He called me names?” That wounded me. My stomach flipped. When was I going to grow up? Women preachers never got their Prince Charming. Heck, they didn’t even get frogs complete with warts. I plunked down in an overstuffed chair.

“You’ll have to ask him about that yourself. He’s working with us, but not for us. What he does on his own time is his business,” Eddie said, flexing her fingers and cracking her knuckles one at a time. I watched, counting one through ten.

“You bet I’ll talk with him.” I bent down to grab my purse. Let them think I wanted to call Tom to chew him out, but I was about to get emergency assistance until Eddie snatched it as I screamed, “At least give me a tissue.”

Monica turned around to a cabinet in back of her, which happened to be a refrigerator. “How about some iced tea or lemonade, Pastor?” she asked.

“I guess then you really don’t want to have Wayne Newton at the fundraiser? Or even to have a fundraiser?” I thought of the hopes I’d had to leave behind a legacy for that so-needed teen center when I moved on to another assignment. That she’d lied about the support hurt more than my current state of arrest.

Louisa waddled over to sit near me, and I knew I could take her. Squash her like the gnome she was. I could grab her and force the Muscled One and Monica to let me go. I’d use the pint-sized woman as a hostage. All this sounded good but was a big bunch of broccoli, because they’d probably sacrifice Louisa, if that was her name, for their sting.

“We had to get your help and knew you wouldn’t tell any old stranger everything because of your pastoral confidentiality,” Louisa said, scooting her backside on the sofa. I changed chairs to move away.

“Did I give you the information you needed when you lied to me yesterday? Did you laugh about how easily I fell for your official visit?”

She giggled like a six-year-old, shrill and screechy. “Your secretary was busy making mushy looks at a young man when I came in, and then when you arrived — well, it was a snap. You didn’t even ask for verification. Although I did have papers that would have fooled even your own senior pastor if it had been necessary. I had planned to see you this coming Monday, but things got moved ahead when you started putting your nose into our business.”

My comment? “Oh.”

“Yes,” she continued. “We had to find out what you knew, Pastor, and your involvement with your senior pastor. It’s our job to investigate, and since it is common knowledge from local law enforcement that Bob Normal is in debt from gambling, we assumed he was ripe for blackmail. Thought perhaps you were, too. Or you were blackmailing him.”

“Did one of your goons beat him silly today?” I watched their faces; they didn’t blink. Was it outlandish to think that Feds could have done that to Bob? If I believed half of what the newspapers printed about the FBI, the answer would be yes.

“I didn’t know,” Monica said.

“Wish I could take credit,” said Eddie. “The guy’s too slick. Walks into that shelter and parades around like the homeless should fall to their knees and kiss his ring. He just comes to bless their poor, downtrodden, sweaty souls and then walks out without offering any help.”

“Don’t like him much, do you, Eddie?” I jabbed, and she snorted as Louisa shook her head and giggled again.

“Whatever happened to your pastor is not our doing. I know that,” said the woman who’d pretended to be from my church’s headquarters. “Although from what we’ve learned about him, he’s going to have some ’splaining to do. Our findings aside, and only because I am a curious investigator, what happens to bad apple pastors, Pastor Jane?”

“If you were really from the District Council, you’d know,” I huffed, but my huffs had worn thin. I slumped back against the chair and realized I was under house arrest in a mansion. Okay, it could have been worse. I accepted tea and what tasted like shortbread cookies homemade in heaven. “Unless he has physically harmed someone or broken a law, he’ll be reprimanded by the honest-to-goodness District Council. He’ll be called to our denomination’s headquarters in Dallas and asked to justify his actions. The council then confers and decides whether he should be disciplined. I’m guessing he’ll get his credentials revoked. But they could just discipline him. If they just reassign him to another church, I’ll scream bloody murder. There’s enough stink going on in traditional religious groups right now without adding to the stench with Pastor Bob Normal. The depravity and dishonesty that’s infiltrated churches is causing pastors to go astray. Then they are just resigned. I don’t know what Bob’s motives were. I can’t judge him.”

Eddie laughed at this. “I can and would in a heartbeat if I had a chance.”

Monica squinted at her watch and pointed at me. The gal should wear glasses or contacts; all the squinting was giving me a headache. “Time to get her out of here, Eddie. I’ve got that fundraiser in a half hour, and Wayne will be here on time. The man’s always on time.” She fluffed a few pillows and replaced the iced tea glasses on a tray and slipped them under the cabinet.

“Wayne Newton? Really. Oh, my gosh. Really? He’s actually coming here?” I gulped down the rest of the iced tea.

“Yes, Wayne and the other stars and their managers. I may be leading a double life, but I’m influential. I’m going to launch a soirée to raise money for the youth of our community.”

“Monica, thank you, and just for the record, where am I going? Not that little house out in the boonies where you and Eddie met last night?” I picked up my purse, waiting for someone to snatch it from me. Of course, the phone was gone, so no one even looked at my hand.

Eddie fiddled with a set of car keys. “Just finish your drink. It’s a long drive.”

Slipping the purse strap over my shoulder, I didn’t move but slugged back the tea. I held the glass out and obedient Monica, the good hostess she was, poured one more. I swallowed that in two mouthfuls. What if I were still sipping when Wayne Newton showed up? He’d surely rescue me from Eddie’s mad clutches. I’ve seen his pictures. He’s a big guy and wouldn’t let a pretty and plump chunk of femininity like me be in jeopardy.

“Stop procrastinating. Finish your tea and let’s go,” Eddie ordered. The boom of her voice echoed in the palatial room.

“I’ll be missed. You can’t do this. My grandfather is expecting me back at the condo for dinner. My foster kid, Harmony, will wonder where I am. There’s Vera at the office, who’ll get calls for me, and I have an appointment at the PSA offices.” I rambled even more quickly than I normally ramble.

“Monica.” Eddie turned to her partner-in-catching-criminals. “You want to explain to her?”

“I called your grandfather earlier, nice man, and explained that you and I going to have a lovely and deliciously relaxing afternoon after the fundraising meeting. Why, we might even go to a spa. He understood. Told you to have a nice time and not to worry about dinner. He’d fix it for himself and the girl, and then they’d go to his dance class. He started raving about Tuffy, but really, I didn’t want to hear that part.” Monica scowled.

I actually thought I saw a flicker of emotion for the little dog as she but refilled my iced tea.

“Spa? I’m being kidnapped by the FBI, and you’re going to treat me to a spa? I’ve been dying for a facial and maybe an herbal wrap, one of those that does away with cellulite.” I was patting my bum when visions of a massage and a pedicure vanished as Eddie laughed. “There’s no spa visit, is there?” I downed another glass of tea. It was passion fruit flavored. The adrenaline and the caffeine pulsing through my kidnapped body buzzed inside me.

A guttural laugh exploded from Eddie. “Sure, Pastor, you will be relaxing, that’s for sure. You won’t be able to butt in any way, shape, or form. I’ll see to that.”

Louisa cleared her throat. “We’ve determined you’re a dangerous footnote to this case. What is it they say? Oh, yes, you’re a loose cannon, as far as the Bureau is concerned, my dear,” Louisa said, sounding like someone’s aunt. “Yes, we know about your previous ‘exploits,’ Pastor. We cannot take a chance on you blowing this.”

“Blowing what? What is going to happen?” I finished the pitcher of tea, and Eddie grabbed my arm, woman-handling me out of the house.

The black Mercedes in the driveway had leather seats that felt softer than my bed. “Nice car,” I said as she opened the passenger door for me. “Yours?”

She hovered over me. “Not yet, but Monica is selling it to me after all this comes down, when it’s over.”

“Eddie, you’re not going to kill me or anything messy like that?” I was locked in her car, Eddie got in, started the ignition. “Where we were going?” There were plenty of deserted places around Las Vegas. A preacher could be dropped off anywhere and never be heard of again. Like Pastor Bob’s threats the night before, was this what she had in mind? “Are you supposed to, ack, murder me?” I swallowed so hard it hurt.

“You are even more fruity than I thought, Pastor Jane. Where do you get these dramatic notions?” She laughed, and it actually sounded like there was a hint of compassion for a nut like me.

“But we’re driving away from the house, and I’m not being told where we’re going.” I tried the door handle, but it didn’t budge. Yes, I had planned to throw myself out of the car at the first traffic signal.

“Forget trying to get out. Monica had these nifty, special locks installed.”

“Just to kidnap a minister?” I asked, again trying the door.

“You’re a piece of work. Naw, it’s because she’s got grandkids, rug rats, never understood that stuff. The doors have a locking control, and I’m in control.”

So much for jumping out of a speeding car. I tried to nix the fidgeting, especially after Eddie barked, “I said, get a blasted grip. Oh, brother and dear mother. I’d be happy as an FBI agent on some beach in Bermuda to drop you in the desert, but that’s not the way the Agency does things, contrary to what you might have heard. Wait, you watch those crappy TV shows? Yeah, me too. Worry not, my pretty, you’re in my tender loving hands for just a few hours.”

“I’m not going to die?” I leaned back on the soft leather seats and scrambled in my purse for gum.

“Some minute part of me is royally sad, but no, you’ll live to tell about this adventure,” she said, looking straight ahead, but I swear she looked disappointed.

I chewed. Eddie drove. Then I opened the ashtray, and Eddie let out a blood-curdling yell. “Hey. Don’t stick that gum in there.”

I slipped it back in my mouth as she began talking to herself. “Oh, yes, Eddie, you’ve got the easy one. Just keep the minister contented for a while until we call. Keep her away from the church and PSA. Yeah, and now I’m keeping a slob on ice. Why don’t they ever give me clean freaks, hand washers, neatniks? No, I get mouthy slobs.”

“I’ll put it in a tissue in my purse,” I said — anything to keep my mind off the pressure in my bladder. Besides, the gum wasn’t taking my mind off it.

I tried to get comfortable. I willed myself not to think of what might be happening at church or the PSA office as Eddie carefully maneuvered through traffic. That didn’t work. What was happening to Bob? Albert had a kind heart, but anything could happen if old bungling Bob Normal decided to go ballistic again.

“Does a prisoner get one question? Since I don’t get a phone call. Are we getting near there yet?” I asked.

Eddie grunted.

I continued, “Is it a long drive?” I felt that need that cannot be quieted. I should have visited the bathroom before I left Monica’s home, but they’d hustled me out, even though I pleaded for a pit spot as a limo had pulled in. I swear Wayne Newton was inside, which almost made me forget that feeling for half a second.