by David Stever
“Two.”
“Tell Brynne to go straight home and park in her garage. Stay in the house. Is the car close enough for you to take a picture?”
“No.”
“How far are you from the house?”
“We’re close. A mile or so.”
“Get in the house and make sure the doors are locked. I’m on my way.”
“Johnny, hurry.”
I closed the laptop, strapped on my shoulder holster with the Beretta, and grabbed my keys and phone. I stopped in the bar on the way out and told Katie about the call and that I was headed to Brynne’s house.
Her skepticism leaped out. “You sure they’re being followed?”
“I’m not sure of anything. Only what they told me.”
“They just want you out there. Bring your swimsuit.”
“You are not helping.”
“Sorry.”
“Check the locations of Tom and Keira’s car. I’ll ding your celly if anything is up.”
She shooed me out with a bar rag.
I went through the kitchen to my garage in the alley and pulled out the Z4. If Mary Ann was followed, and if it was the same guys who tailed George Ainsley from Nancy’s, I wanted to make sure I used a different car. No sense in making it easy for them.
As I turned in Brynne’s driveway thirty minutes later, the front door opened. Brynne stuck out her head and waved me in.
“We were watching for you. Thank God.” She threw a hug around me. “Come in.”
She took me to a homey, dark wood-paneled den that had a brown leather sofa and a matching recliner. A flat-screen TV covered one wall, a book case covered another, and a wet bar was in a corner. Dr. Middleton sure did screw up.
Mary Ann sat on the sofa and I sat down beside her. She filled me in how they first spotted the car when they stopped for lattés on the way to her doctor.
“We are not safe here. They know I am here. It is not safe for me, and not for Brynne. Can you find us someplace to hide out?”
“Mary Ann, your safety is the priority, but there are other things to consider.”
“Nothing else to consider. We were frightened. The same car going, and coming back. The same two men. One wore a baseball cap.”
Brynne was at the bar and I hoped she was working up gin and tonics.
“Mary Ann, I can find someplace for you. Maybe a hotel and we can hire a security guard. But until I can figure this through, we can bring security here?”
“I don’t want some rent-a-cops in my house or their car in my driveway. I’m sorry. We’ll scare the neighbors.” Brynne set three drinks on the coffee table. “Gin and tonics okay? Mary Ann, take it easy—remember your medication.”
“Exactly what I need. Works wonders with my pain pills,” she said.
We all took a healthy sip. I raised my glass. “Brynne, must be your specialty.”
“I try.”
“You can always go back to your house and we ask Jim to start a legal separation agreement and make Tom move out.”
“I’m all for the separation. The argument we had the day he tried to kill me was the final blow. But, I am not going back to the house until he is out. In fact, I am not sure if I will ever go back to the house. Too painful.
“I don’t blame you,” Brynne said. “Screw him and the house. You’ll have money, a lot of money. Buy a place out here by me.” She looked at me. “For now though, this being followed business is crazy and needs to stop. Restraining order is the first thing you need, if you ask me.”
“We can ask for a restraining order, but the police have stacks of domestic cases all because a spouse violated a restraining order.”
“Johnny, I can’t live like this. We can’t go out. We’re trapped here. Get me to a safe place, Brynne too, and we’ll figure the rest. Can you do that?”
“Sure. I can. What about other family, though? Out of town or something?”
“No, out of the question. This is my business.”
“Fair enough. I’ll find a place for you while we get the proof you need.”
I finished off my drink and stood. The scenery was always pleasant with these two, and I was craving a second G&T, but there was work. “You have food here?”
“We’re stocked. The pantry and the bar.” She waved a hand at the TV. “This gets three hundred channels so we have plenty to keep us entertained.”
“Anything weird or out of the ordinary, call me. Don’t answer the door for anyone.”
Brynne let me out the front. I stopped and gazed around at the picturesque setting. The rich have the same problems as everyone else. Except theirs looks better, smells better, and tastes better. My cheating spouse case had a whole new depth of flavor. Someone tailed Ainsley; that I confirmed. Mary Ann was run off the road, the police confirmed. Now, if she was correct, someone followed her in broad daylight. I pulled down the driveway and turned for the city. Too many unknowns on this job to ignore simple safety precautions.
I made a phone call.
17
A mini command center was now set up in my condo, at least for the immediate future. The future being the life expectancy of this case. Katie and I arranged a portable table in my living room and ran a couple of extension cords for our computers.
Eric was on time at eight and George followed in right behind. When I met with Mary Ann and Brynne earlier in the day, I had missed George’s call during the lunch hour. He left a message saying he was out of the BST building—said he could not use the phone inside—and sounded scared and nervous. He was upset I did not answer, called back at five o’clock on his drive home, and eagerly agreed to meet at my condo that evening.
“The universe might explode when Eric and George Ainsley are together in this room. Talk about a clash of personalities and cultures,” Katie said.
“The entertainment value will be worth the price of admission. I’m also keeping a bottle of bourbon close by.”
“I second that.”
George’s apprehension and skepticism fueled the initial meeting between the two, until George witnessed Eric’s fingers flying over the keyboard, pulling up sites that I did not know existed. George was enthralled and they were instant colleagues. The odd pairing of the old school scientist and the genius neo-punk cyber geek.
“Can’t find anything on this chick,” Eric said.
Eric’s failure to find anything on Keira gave George a sense of validation. “Told you. See, I told you. Nothing exists on her, especially before her college years.” He got up from the table and paced around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Georgie boy here is correct, boss.” Eric moved from dude to boss. “Now what do we do?”
George sat back down. “We hack into the company and her files.”
“Whoa, daddy. No can do on the hack.”
“What? Why? That’s why you’re here.”
Eric turned to me and I jumped in. “George, he is one of the smartest hackers in the world. We know it, and so does the government. If the feds catch him, then—ˮ
“One way ticket to Janesville for me.”
George pushed his chair back from the table, putting space between him and Eric as if he was contagious. “You did time in prison?”
“Afraid so.”
“Delarosa, you brought in a criminal?” George was on his feet again. “This was a terrible idea. Goddam terrible idea. I’m leaving. I’ll handle all this myself.”
“Hold on, George. Let’s talk this through,” I said, but it was Katie to the rescue.
“Drink, anyone?” She held up the bottle of bourbon like a spokesmodel on a game show.
“Hell, yeah. I thought you were never going to open that.” Eric jumped up.
“Perfect idea. Let’s have a drink and regroup. George?”
Ainsley hesitated, took a handkerchief from his pants pocket, dabbed his brow. He took a deep breath. “Double, one ice cube.”
“Georgie boy, my man. I knew I liked you.” Eric
served.
We sat around the kitchen table, no computers, and talked. George added details about the space-based solar program and Eric’s eyes lit up.
“This is James Bond shit. Ultra-cool, but it will be layered with firewall after firewall.”
“I’ll do it,” George said. “Teach me. That way you are out of it.”
“Too dangerous. They catch you, you’re in my old bunk at Janesville.” Eric poured a round of refills.
My curiosity could not wait any longer. “Eric, how did you survive prison? Your type doesn’t last too long in a place like that.”
“Easy. My second day there, I asked the guard who was the baddest dude in the joint. He told me, Oscar Ruiz. So, I requested a meeting with Ruiz and everyone thought I was crazy and it was suicide. Ruiz agrees to meet, and I told him I wanted protection in exchange for a favor. He thought I was crazy, too, but said I had balls for trying. That night they snuck me into the computer lab and I changed his mother’s credit score to 720 so she could qualify for a mortgage, and also moved some cash into his girlfriend’s bank account.”
“Damn, dude.” Katie gave him a fist bump. “Where did you move the cash from?”
He wagged a finger at her and smiled. “From that day forward, nobody in the place even dared look at me. I was untouchable. If it wasn’t for that idea, though, they would have passed me from cell to cell. I’m a genius. The only card-carrying member of Mensa to do time in a federal pen and play punk grunge.”
I raised my glass. “Genius is right. So what do we do about this situation?”
“Review. G-dude, what do you want and what do you need?”
It took George a moment to recover from being called G-dude. “I want her out of the company, out of Tom’s life, and out of my life. I wish it was back to the way it was before she came along. What I need is her top-secret clearance revoked before we lose the contract.”
“From the DOD’s perspective, is anything wrong or illegal?” I asked.
“Attempted murder on my niece.”
Eric tuned in to my line of thought, paranoia aside. “G-dude, this Keira wants the company, which means she wants the money and the glory. She wants Mrs. Bellamy to disappear so she has Tommy boy to herself, and you are getting in the way.”
“Yes.”
“And PI Dude here confirmed someone is following you…” He poured himself another drink. “Don’t worry; I think better when I’m juiced.”
“Me too.” Katie splashed more in her glass.
“G-dude, the company will be protected. Cyber security safeguards, all that. I’m not sure what to tell you at this point. I told super PI here that I’m all in, but I don’t know how to help. I dig you’re upset she sexed up Tommy to score the company loot, but other than that…”
George sank back in his chair, defeated. “They follow me.”
“No doubt you have her worried. You’re in her way. I say you stay above-board and go legal. Hire a lawyer, go to the DOD. Get out in front of this,” I added. “Forget the clandestine route.”
“Something to think about. Either way, they’ll cut me out.”
“Not necessarily. PI is right. Tell them you hired a lawyer and the next step is to bring in government auditors.”
I nodded to Eric. Impressive. “George, he’s right. Other ways to go here.”
George thought for a second, and then threw back the remainder of his bourbon. “At least the bourbon was decent.”
I handed him the bottle. “Go home, get some sleep. This is not over. I’m here to help. We’ll talk in a day or two.”
Ainsley left, dejected, and we all felt helpless and sorry for him. He had genuine concerns, but Eric was right—not in my scope of work.
“G-dude has a legit beef, but it’s all sort of a bad TV movie, right, dude?”
“Right, dude.”
I opened another bottle of bourbon and poured. Eric and I sat on the sofa and I allowed him to quiz me nonstop about PI work. Despite the outward appearance, he could talk with extreme intelligence on many topics, and I think we covered them all. He could also drink. We were doing a pro job on the bourbon when Katie had opened her laptop for one more GPS check.
“They moved. Both cars are parked at an address right off the interstate. I’m checking the maps.”
“This the woman and Bellamy?” Eric asked. “Damn.”
“Let’s hope,” I said.
“A motel off Exit 29. Are we going?” Katie jumped up.
“Yep.”
“Wait for me. Bathroom first,” she said.
Eric threw on his jacket. “This is rockin’. PIs in action.”
I grabbed my camera bag from the closet. “You’re not going.”
“What? I’m part of the team.”
“Where is your car?”
“In the alley.”
“You can go with us to your car. Thanks for coming tonight. I appreciate it. We’ll send you a check. Katie?”
“I’m here.” She grabbed the laptop and we hustled down the stairs, ran through McNally’s drawing stares and turning heads, including Mike’s.
“Hey.”
We went through the kitchen door into the alley.
“Boss, dude, please. This is cool time.”
“Not tonight. You’re a smart guy, would like to have you around. We’ll talk.”
“All right. Later, dude.” He walked to his car and yelled over his shoulder. “I’m disappointed.”
“What did you just say to him?” Katie asked.
“Can we go?” I opened the garage door. A flash at the end of the alley caught my eye. Headlights. A car barreled toward us.
A second car turned in from the opposite end of the alley. The headlights were blinding.
Eric ran over to us. “Dude, this better not be for me.”
The first car pulled to us and stopped. The door flung open and a granite block of a man got out with a gun drawn. The second car angled in and a woman hopped out with her gun on us.
“Johnny?” Katie said.
The man came around his car. “FBI. Don’t move.”
18
The man came forward. “Delarosa?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Don’t be cute. Turn around, hands against the building.”
We complied and the male agent made quick work of relieving me of my Beretta, then he frisked Katie while the female agent gave Eric a pat-down.
“My name is Special Agent Quade and this is Special Agent Ortiz,” he said. “Is there a place we can talk? Inside?”
“My place, upstairs. Need to go around the building or through the bar,” I said.
“Through the bar. Let’s go.”
We paraded through McNally’s again. Mike could smell a federal agent from a hundred yards away. He mouthed to me, “You okay?”
I nodded. I feared Eichenberg would start a protest, but the first lesson you learned in the joint: keep your mouth shut. He did.
We went into my condo and Quade put Katie and Eric on the sofa with Ortiz standing guard, and took me out to the hall. Smart to divide us.
“George Ainsley your client?”
“No.”
“Try again?”
“He did not hire me.”
“Why is he here?”
“Mind telling me what this is about?”
He leveled his eyes and sized me up. I faced off with federal agents many times in my career, but never against one like this. I’m six one; he had two inches on me and had to be a rock-solid two-twenty, with a V-shaped back, not an ounce of fat on his body, and arms the size of my thighs. If that was not enough, he had steel-blue eyes, close-cropped black hair, and a square leading-man jaw, as if he walked off the pages of a men’s fitness magazine.
“I’ll tell you, Delarosa, but I need you to be on the right side of this.”
“I’ll try, but I’m in the dark.”
“Tell me about Ainsley.”
“Contacted me, but what he wants can’t happen
. You’ve been following him. You got him scared and paranoid.”
“He’s in way over his head. We’re keeping an eye so he doesn’t bury himself.”
“How so?”
“He’s raised red flags all over Washington. Pings at NSA, CIA, DOD, and Justice. Drew attention to himself. Got us curious, especially from a guy at this point in his career—stellar reputation, close to retirement. His actions don’t add up. Then he hires you. What did he want?”
“Why do I get the sense you already know what he wanted?”
“You had direct contact, gives us third-party confirmation. We’re aware of the concerns he has with Bellamy Space, and we also know Mary Ann Bellamy is your client.”
“Well, well. Big brother is watching.”
He shrugged. “Blame Ainsley.”
“He was jacked about the affair between Bellamy and the woman. I’m sure you are aware.” He nodded. “Said it was going to ruin everything. Wanted me to hack into the company, dig into her, and discredit her. Bordered on conspiracy theory a bit, but with a payday on the horizon, I figured he’s smoked about getting cut out.”
He made a note on a pad he pulled from his pocket.
“Eichenberg?”
“Eyes on him, too?”
“We all do. He breathes next to computer and we get a hit.”
“Friend of my assistant. We brought him in to convince Ainsley that what he wanted to do was impossible. Ainsley left here tonight dejected, but he understood.”
“Yeah, Eichenberg showing up here definitely got our attention. Smart. Let’s hope it worked.”
“Why the dramatic stop and frisk? Could have just knocked.”
“C’mon, Delarosa. Keep the subject off-balance. Interviewing skills 101.”
So far, Agent Quade had yet to irritate me. “Fair enough. Now what?”
“Back inside.”
Katie and Eric both stood and Ortiz took a step toward us when Quade and I walked back into the condo. Katie’s eyes were huge with questions.
“Relax,” Quade said. “You two, sit back down.” Katie and Eric looked to me, and I nodded. “We apologize for the delay. Mr. Delarosa and I here had a productive conversation.” We pulled chairs in from the kitchen and we all sat around and listened as Quade gave a brief recap of how and why Ainsley popped on their radar. Katie did not blink once as he talked. Her eyes were fixated on the All-American boy. I could tell she was calculating how many children they were going to have and when. “The reason we are here tonight is to ask you, the three of you, to work for us.”