Lethal Affairs (20 page)

After disconnecting with Domino, Monty Pierce asked his coadministrators to join him in his office. He drew the blinds on his spectacular view of the Rockies and the cadre of students tackling the obstacle course in the distance.

Determined to find out whether the leak about the EOO had come from inside the Organization, he’d decided to have Grant, Arthur, and several of his top operatives followed. At least his paranoia had confirmed that Joanne was not the traitor, he thought, straightening his tie. Nonetheless, his directive had produced unsettling results.

David Arthur arrived a little ahead of Joanne Grant, but Pierce waited for both to settle into the chairs opposite his desk to begin. “Looks like we have a problem.”

“Was it what you suspected?” Arthur ran his hand absently over his crew cut, newly trimmed. His skin was nearly as red as his hair from all his time in the sun. He was teaching archery, rappelling, and skydiving this semester, among other things.

“Domino didn’t mention anything about Strike having gone back to Vasquez or having the tape dropped off at Koster’s for enhancement,” Pierce confirmed. “She also neglected to mention she spent the night with Strike and followed her to work. Or that she was seen leaving the building holding the same box Strike left with from Vasquez’s apartment building. Or that she’s currently sitting outside a motel, where Strike has apparently gone to hide out after fleeing her apartment.”

“Do we know what’s in the box?” Grant asked.
“No. She still has it with her.”
Grant got to her feet and went to the window. After a few

seconds’ pause, she opened one of the blinds and stared out at the school compound and wilderness area beyond. “I don’t understand. This isn’t like Domino.” Pierce allowed her a moment for reflection, because Grant always found it difficult to put their charges in jeopardy. And her fondness for Domino in particular was obvious. “Still, I think we should give it some more time. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.”

“We can’t risk giving her time,” Arthur said, getting to his feet. “She knows the rules. She’s been playing by them for the past twelve years. No changing them, no exceptions. Why would she hide all this from us unless something was going on?”

“He’s right, Joanne,” Pierce said. “I don’t like it any more than you do. But we have to face it.”
“I won’t hear of this,” Grant declared, whirling around to glare at both of them. Her vivid green eyes darkened, stark against her white hair. “I know Domino and so do you. She’d never do anything to hurt us. If she wanted to, she’d have led them here already.”
“She’s not trying to hurt us,” Pierce replied. “She might want out, and this is how she thinks she can accomplish that. Or there may be more on the video than we think. Maybe somebody—some fed, some ambitious cop—made her and offered her a deal. She may be trying to save herself, and we’re what she has to offer in return. She apparently has her own way of going about this. She hasn’t led them here, but that doesn’t mean she won’t or that she’s doing anything to stop them.”
Grant turned her gaze back to the campus below.
“We need to eliminate Domino and bring Strike in for questioning,” Pierce continued. “We can’t take care of her until we find out what she knows. I already have Wasp surveilling Domino. I’ll put another operative she won’t recognize with him to grab Strike. How do you vote?”
“No.” Grant kept her back to them. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. “We should bring Domino in, too. Give her a chance to explain. If they
are
romantically involved, maybe we can use that to our advantage.”
“I’m sorry, Joanne.” David Arthur stepped to her but made no move to touch her. His voice softened. “We can’t take the risk. We can easily get what we need from Strike. But Domino won’t come willingly. She knows the rules for mutiny, and we’ll never get her to talk. No, the stakes are simply too high. I vote yes.”
Pierce picked up the phone to buzz his secretary. “Nancy, get Wasp on the line, and find out which op in the DC area is available. Then notify all operatives Domino is a rogue. They’re to avoid her and notify us if she attempts any contact.”

Hayley peeked out the curtains at the few cars in the motel parking lot. No one was coming or going. Her room had a peculiar odor she couldn’t identify, and she certainly wasn’t going to open a window, but at least she felt safe for the moment. She hoped she was overreacting, but fear was devouring any remaining optimism.

She’d registered under a false name, used cash instead of a credit card so she couldn’t be traced, and parked the Mustang where no one could see it from the street. But she had only bought herself a little time. She was almost out of options. The story that had once seemed so important had become a lethal affair and was going to get her killed. She couldn’t involve her family or friends, and she didn’t feel safe returning to work or home.

Home. Luka was due to pick her up at her apartment in…she checked her watch. About six hours. She grabbed her cell phone.
“Hey there.” She had to work to make the greeting sound casual.
“I was just thinking about you.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Listen, I’m afraid I have to cancel our date tonight. I got caught up with work and had to go out of town. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Is everything all right?” Luka asked.
“Oh, fine, just very busy. I’ll call you when things settle down, okay?”
“Yes, of course. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“That’s sweet, Luka. I’ll keep that in mind. Take care, and I’ll talk to you soon?”
“I hope so. Bye, Hayley.”
Hayley disconnected and went to the window again, pulling the curtain just enough to peer outside. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she felt restless and edgy. She would have to go to the authorities. The only question was, where would she go and what would she say? The EOO had ties in law enforcement. And she needed to figure out a way to confess what she knew without incriminating herself too deeply.
The ringing of her cell phone made her jump. The caller ID read
private number.
That meant it was unlisted and someone not in her address book.
“Hello?”
“Is this Hayley Ward?” A man’s voice she didn’t recognize.
“Yes, who’s this?”
“I’d rather not say, Miss Ward. You called a colleague of mine this morning, asking about the Castellano case? He gave me your number.”
She’d made a lot of calls. That didn’t narrow it down much. “Who is this?”
“Someone who knows something about this organization you’ve been asking about. But I’m not going to give you my name. These people mean business, and I have a family to think about. I’m taking a chance just by calling you.” The man had a whiny voice, and he sounded like a local, with traces of the unique diction common to those who’d grown up around Chesapeake Bay.
“How do I know this is safe?”
The caller finally spoke again. “Safe? What do you mean? Have they gotten to you? Is that why you called my friend? If that’s the case we shouldn’t be having this talk at all. Good luck, but I can’t—”
“Wait!” she said. “Don’t hang up. I need help. I think they’re after me, and I’m going to the police, but I need someone to back me up.”
“Back you up? With the police? Are you kidding? The police can’t touch them.”
“Then who can?” She gripped the phone tighter. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I know people who can help.” The man sounded hesitant. “People with more authority than the police. I turned to them a few years ago.”
“Who are these people?”
“They’re in the government.”
“Who?” she pressed.
“I really can’t talk about this on the phone, Miss Ward. Maybe we can meet next week.”
“Next week!” She couldn’t possibly stay cooped up in a motel that long, jumping out of her skin at the slightest noise. “I don’t have till next week.”
“I leave tonight for Washington,” the caller said, “and won’t be back until then.”
“How about now?” she proposed.
“That depends. Where are you?”
“Near Baltimore. We can meet at a bar or someplace.”
“I’d rather not be seen in public with you,” he said. “I don’t think that’s safe if they’re after you. And I don’t want you coming near my family or work. It’s too risky.”
Given all she’d been through, she understood his paranoia. “Why do you want to help me, anyway?”
“Because I’ve been there, I guess, and I was happy I had someone to help me out,” he replied. “I’m willing to advise you, Miss Ward, but I won’t risk my safety or that of my family. I’d suggest we meet at your house, but not if you really think they’re after you.”
“I’m not home. I’m staying at a motel, and honestly, I’m too afraid to tell anyone where. I don’t know who to trust.”
“That’s up to you. Certainly understandable. Once again, good luck and be careful.” It was clear the caller was ready to hang up.
“Wait!” He sounded sincere, and she
had
determined her cell phone wasn’t bugged. The fact he mentioned the calls she’d made that morning made his callback
seem
legitimate, anyway. She took a deep breath. “I’m staying at the Timbers Motel…”

Terrence Burrows was in his backyard, sampling some of the food to be served to his guests when his cell phone rang. After he saw who it was, he hurried toward his den and answered it halfway there.

“Yes?”
“Found her, but something’s up,” Jack relayed. “She’s at a motel outside Baltimore. We need to move fast. My guys can be there in about a half hour.”
A little of Terrence’s anger slipped away, replaced by an increased sense of alarm. Hayley Ward had been tipped somebody was after her. At least the EOO hadn’t gotten to her yet. “Did she say anything else?”
“No, only that she doesn’t trust anyone. I think she’s ready to talk.”
He closed the door to his den so no one could overhear him. “Make sure she talks to you. Move fast, but don’t take any chances. And Jack, if anything goes wrong, destroy all evidence, including her.”
“Understood.” The line went dead.
Terrence considered his next move. First, he’d find out what she knew. How she had gotten David Rabinowitz’s name. Who else she had talked to. Then he’d offer her to Pierce.
I bet they got close to her— close enough to scare her into running. They want her bad. Real bad.
That was good news, as long as his own men got her first. It confirmed she was the perfect bait for his trap.

Although Hayley was expecting him—had gone back and forth to the window a dozen times, in fact, anticipating his arrival—the knock on the motel-room door still startled her. She pulled back the curtain a couple of inches to study her visitor before she admitted him.

He looked like a guy who lived his life in front of a computer. Slight build, average height. Probably in his early forties, he dressed like a vintage nerd—glasses, white button-down oxford shirt and sweater, trousers hiked too high to be fashionable. Dark hair, slicked down and combed to one side. All he was missing was the pocket protector. He seemed nervous, glancing about as he waited, which reassured her.

She removed the security chain and opened the door. “Miss Ward?” he asked. “I called you on the phone.” She nodded. Same whiny voice. “Come in.”
As he entered the room, she turned and took a couple of steps

toward the small table near the front window where she’d set two chairs. Hearing the door click shut behind her, she pivoted, intending to ask him to fasten the chain again, but the words froze on her lips.

Behind the geek stood another man, roughly the same age, but bigger, tougher-looking, in a dark jacket and jeans. Hayley’s heartbeat doubled. “What’s going on?”

“We need you to come with us,” the geek replied.
“Who are you?’
“We’re here to protect you,” he said.
Hayley didn’t like the way the second man was blocking the door.

And now she looked closer at the geek. Something wasn’t quite right about him. The nervous demeanor had evaporated and he no longer resembled the scared family man he claimed to be. “Protect me from what?

Her pulse accelerated. “I’m not going anywhere. That wasn’t the deal. And who’s he?” She tipped her head toward the second man.
“We don’t have time for this,” the second man told the geek.
Her heart was beating so fast she felt light-headed. “For what? What’s he talking about?” She took a step backward, then another, feeling the threat like a living presence in the room, and, instead of answering, they both moved toward her.
She turned to the window, two feet away, grabbing at the curtain to throw it open, desperate, an inch from screaming.
As she closed her hand around the drapery material, the second man grabbed her from behind. He was quick, and strong, and he pinned her free arm while the chloroform-soaked rag covered her mouth. She tried to struggle, but her world went black.

When Domino saw the man stop at the door to Hayley’s motel room, she went on high alert. She hadn’t seen him enter the lot or park. He’d approached on foot from the back side of the building, and he seemed on edge.

She relaxed only slightly when Hayley opened the door and admitted him. Given Hayley’s fearful state of mind, the newcomer was likely a friend or relative, certainly someone she trusted without question. Nonetheless she put her hand on the key in the ignition.

When a second man slipped around the corner and into the room, she automatically started the van.
And when she saw the curtains move, yanked hard to the side, it was obvious something was very wrong. She shot forward into the empty space beside Hayley’s Mustang.
She grabbed for the ski mask on the passenger seat and bolted from the van, quickly pulling it on just outside the motel room. She retrieved the 9mm Luger P95 from her pants, at the small of her back, and silently turned the knob. The door was unlocked.
As she slipped into the room, she was grateful both men had their backs to her. The nearest one got the butt of her Luger to his left temple and went down without a struggle.
The second man had his arms around Hayley, who was slumped against his chest. When his friend crumpled, he turned—saw Domino two feet away—and dropped Hayley to reach for his gun.
He managed to get it out, but she clamped down hard on his wrist as he began to bring it up to fire. She pivoted, her back to him, and rammed her left elbow into his stomach, then his face, before she knocked him out too, with her Luger to his temple.
She hurried to Hayley, bent over her to check her breathing, and caught a whiff of chloroform, a welcome development under the circumstances.
Domino stripped off her mask, shoved her gun back into her pants, and packed up Hayley’s gear. She took it out to the van, then turned the vehicle around so its open rear doors faced the motel-room entrance. No one was in sight.
She hefted Hayley onto her shoulder and carried her out, and a few minutes later they were on the expressway toward Washington. She couldn’t be certain no one was tailing her in the heavy traffic, but she couldn’t risk any lengthy evasive detours. She had no idea how much chloroform Hayley had been given, but she had started to stir and mumble, and Domino kept an eye on her. She could come to at any time, and she didn’t want Hayley to wake up until they were safely inside her condo.
Beside her was Manny’s box. Most of the contents were innocuous, but she couldn’t take the incriminating Frankie the Fox tape or the enhanced DVD of the Guerrero assassination into her place, where Hayley might be tempted to retrieve them. And she couldn’t leave them in the van. Two blocks from home, while stopped at a red light, she fished both items out of the box and destroyed them.