Deadly Paths

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Deadly Paths Page 17

by Jack Parker


  The bitches, on the other hand, are going to be extra pissed. Good thing they won't be able to touch me.

  Regarding method of exposure, Carlo wrote. Sterner methods are available now. Instead of just industrial espionage and embezzlement, we can reveal evidence that they were connected to the murder of their own partner and maybe even that spy if we do this right. We need four frames. See the attachment for information on each girl and get back to me on what you need to make this happen right.

  Carlo leaned back in his chair, letting the morning sun filter through the floor to ceiling office window and warm his bald head as he finished his drink. He read his mail, considering. This wasn't going to be as easy as he was making it sound, but it was completely necessary if he wanted to make this change of plans. Jessica would never allow the change to happen. Carlo understood that now. It was a small matter when you were involved with the South American drug trade to pin certain evidence on a group of high rolling females with connections to each other, but tougher to make the charges stick. Fortunately, all Carlo needed was enough to get them all arrested for a few hours while he made his getaway. The timing of the arrests was the critical factor.

  It struck Carlo as if Jessica and her sisters wanted these marriages done for some other reason than besides maintaining cover. There had to be a method to their madness. Carlo didn't care what the reason was, but he understood if he wanted future dealings with the contract companies, it was dangerous to let those marriages happen. On the other hand, getting the cops to move in on a casino during four huge wedding ceremonies wasn't going be easy. If he arranged for the arrests to happen before the weddings, he risked one or all of the Black Fire agents getting out with plenty of time to stop him—or worse. The best timing would be during the receptions, when the show producers would be busy trying to cover all the various contestants running around playing spy.

  Chest warm with brandy and fighting a sudden onset of euphoria, Carlo added a paragraph to the mail, making his decision.

  Make sure all preparations to leave are complete. Time it so the police move during the receptions. Be ready. We fly out tomorrow night.

  Satisfied, Carlo shut down his computer and stood up to face the window and stared out at the Vegas strip, the morning sun glinting off buildings and warming empty streets with little traffic. The day after tomorrow Carlo would be in China, and before he left to make his own preparations to leave, he wondered if he would ever enjoy a Vegas morning like this again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was going to be hard to catch him, but Victoria was determined to corner Jake before he was packed up and gone, which could be within the hour. She walked down the hotel corridor at a brisk pace. Her best pair of comfortable jeans and Lindsey Stirling T-shirt did very little to reduce the ache of her stab wound caused with every step. When she found Jake, she wasn't sure if she was going to kiss him again, or kick is ass. She was not sure if it was such a good thing that Jake had helped her stay on the operation with his sacrifice. As much as she wanted to complete the mission the truth was she wascompromised, and not knowing how made the situation extra dangerous. Yet her enemy was just as exposed now, her objectives clear. She could do this now. She was sure of it. She didn't even have to get to Carlo now, just either one of a number of operatives working for him, or his recruiter Julio Montoya. Either way, the whole operations center back at Langley was probably up in arms right now. The ADDO in particular would be pulling his greying hair out and cussing up a storm. She kind of wished she could see the meltdown.

  Contestants were kept in rooms fairly separate from each other, but some of the basic information at her fingertips was anything at all that the CIA had on the locations of every contestant, every part of the filming crew from the network, and every intern responsible for making coffee. She marched up to room 516 and paused for a moment before knocking.

  Get ahold of yourself, Victoria, she thought after a breath. You can just be here to say thanks and goodbye, then be on your way.

  She knocked softly. There was no answer. She tried again, saying his name. Nothing.

  She frowned and felt her shoulders sag. Had she missed him? She looked down the down the hallway in both directions, wondering if she should run and try to catch him. Why had that stupid post-debriefing solo interview taken so damn long? She pounded her fist on the door.

  "I know you're in there, Jake! Now open up before I bust this thing down, you know I—"

  The door opened as her fist was coming down for another knock. She had to halt herself. She gave a small embarrassed smile as Jake stared back at her, looking tired and weary. His greeting was not the warmest.

  "Yeah?"

  "I was . . ." Victoria hated herself for stammering. But seeing his sad eyes was making words hard. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

  "I'm fine," Jake said. "But you shouldn't be here. How did you find my room anyway?"

  She cocked her head at him in mock disbelief.

  "Jake. Come on."

  "Right. Spy. Stupid question."

  He started to close the door.

  "Well I'm fine. Thanks for stopping by. Good luck to you, Victoria."

  She pressed her hand on the door. She had to ask the question she really came to have answered, or it would eat at her for weeks.

  "Jake, why? You shouldn't have done that. That was dangerous for you, not to mention what you're giving up for . . ." She whispered the last two words. "For me."

  Jake shuffled his feet and scratched his head, looking very uncomfortable.

  "I'm still not even sure myself why I did it. All I know is it was probably another very bad financial decision."

  He stopped and squinted at her as if doing so would help him read her mind.

  "What do you mean, dangerous for me?"

  She looked left and right down the hallway. This was not the sort of place to be answering that question. So much for the quick goodbye.

  "Can I come in?" she asked.

  Jake hesitated, then threw the door open for her and walked into the room.

  "Fine. Doesn't matter for me now anyway, but you better not get into trouble."

  She closed the door behind her and approached him. He was wearing a white button up shirt and jeans, with most of the buttons not even fastened except for two in the middle. She swallowed and felt a few degrees warmer being alone in a room with him and his bronzed hardened chest teasing her. She cleared her throat.

  "Jakey the CIA has analysts, a whole dedicated office of brainiacs that are going to put it together and figure out why a man would give up his place on a show like this for a woman. That's extremely dangerous . . ."

  She took a step closer to him, keeping her voice soft. She reached for him and placed a hand softly on his cheek, turning his head so that he would look at her.

  "For us both . . ."

  Gently he took her hand off his face, but he continued to hold it softly.

  "Well I'm sorry I don't think about these things, but all it sounds like is more trouble with the government for me. I don't see how it's a problem for you."

  Victoria looked up with him with sharp surprise.

  "You were in trouble with the government already? How?"

  Jake released her hand and waved her off.

  "It's nothing it's just . . . my boat is kinda impounded. Nothing to worry about. It'll be fine soon."

  "Jake!" Victoria was even more distressed than before now. She reached for him again, this time taking him by the arm. "You needed to score in this game, didn't you? You daft fool what will you do now?"

  "I said don't worry about it." Jake snapped, then changed the subject in haste. "How is this bad for you? I thought to stay in the game was what you needed. I guess I thought it was what we all needed. Well, all the players that were still playing, that is."

  "What about you?" Victoria asked in a voice barely louder than a whisper as she took both his hands in hers. "What did you need?"

  "I guess . . ." Jake wa
s actually trembling now. Cute. "I guess I needed you to win. Are you really in more danger?"

  She smiled. "I'll live with it."

  They kissed. This time it was mutual advancement. This time she clawed at his shirt, tore it from his shoulders. This time he picked her up, carried her to the bed, smothered her with the warmth of his body. He nibbled at her ears. She arched her back. She offered him her neck and sighed. He took the bait. Shivers ran down her spine. And then there was a knock at the door.

  He stopped kissing. She groaned, clutching him to her breast, refusing to give up this moment. The knock came again. Her eyes flew open.

  Shit! I'm not supposed to be here!

  She looked around frantically. Jake waved her toward the closet. She nodded. The knock came again. Jake answered in a groggy sounding voice.

  "Jus' a minute! I'm coming, I'm coming!"

  Nice acting, Jakey, she thought. Make a spy out of you yet. Victoria reconsidered the thought. She wasn't so much a spy right now, but rather a trapped teenager hiding in her boyfriend's closet.

  She could hear the muffled conversation through the thin sliding mirror door of the closet. The visitor was another male, with a crisp tenor and an accent from somewhere in the Midwest if she had to guess. He introduced himself as Steve Morrison, the associate producer.

  "Here to see me off?" Jake asked politely.

  "In a manner of speaking," Steve said. "But actually we can't have you leaving just yet. So don't pack your bags. We need you to stay?"

  Victoria imagined Jake's forehead to be crinkled in confusion just as much as hers.

  "What do you mean?" Jake asked, his tone suspicious.

  "There's been an incident. It involves both you and your partner that you knew as Nova. Have you seen her lately? She wasn't in her room."

  Jake laughed with genuine mirth.

  "What she do now?"

  "Have you seen her?"

  "No. Why would I have?"

  There was a pause. Feet shuffling. Victoria imagined this Steve to be touring the room with an observant eye for anything out of place. Steve's reply was louder as he was now standing closer to the closet.

  "You were recording coming back last night with her through the casino. We know you two left unauthorized last night. We need to talk about what went on."

  Jakes reply was dismissive.

  "What does it matter now that I'm eliminated? I dragged her into it."

  "There's been a murder." Steve announced.

  Silence. Victoria hoped Jake was playing up his shock well enough. Steve's voice was pointed and directional. Victoria was half certain the man already knew exactly where she was.

  "We need you both to come see us in the control room. You know where it is right?"

  "Sure, but . . ."

  "I'll give you some time to make yourself presentable, and please pass the word to Nova that we're looking for her."

  '"Right," said Jake.

  Victoria waited a few minutes after Steve left to emerge. Jake had already finished getting dressed. She hugged him, and he welcomed her into his arms.

  "Think they know about our trouble last night?" Jake asked after a moment.

  "Doubtful. It's more likely they had detectives link the assassin to the show and now they want to make sure their covering their asses. Let me do the talking, but if they ask we were just having a romance, went to a bar away from the hotel separately, but I got so drunk you had to help me back."

  Jake looked uncertain. "What bar?"

  "Neither of us can remember. Some German pub off the strip."

  "Alright," Jake said leading the way to the door and opening it for her. "Let's get this over with."

  * * *

  Jake did not like where this was going at all. All he wanted to do now was get back to Washington and see if he could still get that job at the docks. Steve Morrison had other plans for him.

  "So, Mr. Joyner," Steve said in that sickly sweet tone he had kept up this whole interview. If Steve was the "good cop" Jake did not want to see the bad one—ever. "Do we have a deal?"

  Jake pretended to consider the offer, when he was actually thinking about Victoria. He wondered if Victoria got the bad cop, and what kind of offers the producers would be making her at this moment, considering she was still an active contestant. Jake was pretty sure that Victoria didn't have time for any more games at this point—even if the name of the game was to distance the show from murder.

  "You can really get my boat out of impound?" Jake asked at last with a cock of his head.

  Steve smiled back at him from across the conference room table.

  You don't think we have the cash to spare?" he asked Jake.

  "But it's not just about money," Jake replied. "There are legal matters."

  "Well, I'm sure we can clear those up. You're legal matters here just became much more pressing after all."

  "Yeah," Jake said flatly, and took the last sip of the courtesy soda he had been offered earlier. "About that. The deal sounds good, by why do you want me keeping an eye on, uh, what was it you said her name was? I mean besides Nova.

  "Harmony Mitchell."

  Yeah right. Who the hell really knows what her name is? Jake thought sourly as he continued. "You want me to follow Harmony around for you, but shouldn't you all be letting the cops handle this now? Why aren't they conducting this little investigation?"

  Steve leaned forward over steepled fingers.

  "I'm going to let you in on a little secret Mr. Joyner," he said, all the sweetness leaving his tone for one that was quite grim. "We withheld the fact that we knew you and Harmony were out and about last night. I'm sure you can understand that we can't afford to have contestants under investigation while filming if the show was underway. If we thought either of you might really be connected to the unfortunate death of Mila Sanders we would turn you over right away of course. That was the reason for all the questions."

  Jake protested in alarm, half standing up out of his chair. "But even if you think we're innocent now it's still obstruction of justice!"

  "Well then by all means, go head downtown and fill them in," Steve offered sardonically. "I won't even try to stop you."

  Jake fell silent and sat back down. Why should he care what kind of trouble these folks got themselves into, as long as he could deny this conversation ever took place?

  "Are you guys recording this . . . interview?" Jake asked.

  "No. This is all completely off the record. This room has no cameras and is sound proofed for the specific purpose of not disturbing the control center we have set up down the hall."

  "Then, you are asking me to report on what Harmony is up to because you believe I had nothing to do with this murder that could unravel the whole show?"

  "I didn't say that," Steve said with a shake of his head. "We're still trying to determine that. Right now you both have managed to tell the same story. So we are willing to trust you so far as you can help us find the real culprit, if they are connected to the show, so that we can give the police good information that will hopefully keep the whole thing as quiet as possible."

  "But you don't want Harmony to know I'm still in town after these interviews. So you still suspect her more than me?"

  Steve nodded. "She has an odd bruise on her throat that still seems fishy to me."

  Not to mention a knife wound to the leg, Jake thought somberly. Had Victoria kept that hidden? "Told you that was my fault. She tripped when I was trying to help her back and . . ."

  Steve waved him off. "We don't need to go through it all again Mr. Joyner. I just need to know if you will play along with us now."

  It really was a win-win deal for Jake. He got his boat back. He got to hang around and see what became of Victoria, dangerous as that was, and he might even be able to help her. The moment he got a chance, Jake would look into a certain name that had been thrown out before Mila went down. His only problem was he did not trust Steve Morrison any further than he could throw him. Jake stood
up and offered his hand and grinned.

  "Course I'll help you. I've always wanted to be a legalized stalker."

  Steve's sweet town returned. "Excellent! Now remember, we especially need to know what she does if she goes off the grid again. I know you won't let us down."

  I won't let Victoria down, Jake thought as they clasped hands. But you people can bite me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Victoria hated weddings. It was said that every little girl always grew up dreaming of their wedding day. Not Victoria. Her parents had never had a wedding, as far as she knew. In fact, she didn't know much about her mother at all. She had just disappeared one day when she was but a two year old, and her father had never really recovered. Still, the two of them had gotten along just fine, and she missed his way of looking at the world dearly. The used to have a running joke between them, how she would never marry because he would eventually scare any potential suitors away, and how she didn't want such a prissy, fancy show for such an event if it ever did happen.

  "Good," he would laugh and say. "Saves me a fortune."

  He never did get to meet Dean, the only man she had really ever considered settling down for. Victoria supposed that even though Jake was nice, nicer than any guy she had come across in a long time, marriage still just wasn't in the cards for her.

  The only thing worse than being at somebody else's wedding, Victoria decided, was attending the wedding of someone who had just tried to kill you two days before. It was all Victoria could do not to leap from the fancy pew she was sitting in and try to throttle the woman. Fortunately for Jessica, this wedding, and the three others like it happening at the same time, had a cast of thousands on hand to attend. Victoria would need to be more subtle.

  She shifted uncomfortably in her blue evening dress, which normally would not have bothered her so much, except the one-piece stealth suit she was wearing underneath only served to make the dress feel hot, itchy, and excessive. It was meant for a quick change tactic, should she need it. If Victoria had been any normal contestant, she would have not had to worry about such quick wardrobe changes—time for those were always provided. The real contest for Spy Games contestants would begin at the reception, but these weddings were part of the deal, and were expected to bring in a good many more female viewers for these episodes. As a result, Victoria and her partners for this mission would have to suffer through the ceremony. Unfortunately, her, Charlie, and Robin drew the Fukazashi-Watson wedding.

 

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