“I’m wondering how the dealer comes to have the number of your work phone,” the warmth has drained from Mr. Clark’s voice. “And why he might need to see you.”
“I don’t know, sir.” And that’s not completely true, either. He told me about his skills in getting information. But if I tell Mr. Clarke that, he’ll know I spent too much time with him. And he will want to know why Christof could have gone to so much trouble to get my number and I won’t have an explanation.
Not one I can give to Mr. Clarke.
“Ms. Carter,” the life has gone from his voice, “I’m going to reassign your appointments for this week.” That’s a disaster for me. “I’ll assign someone else to document Mr. Bosman’s COA’s.” He’s taking out his phone. “Next week, we’ll review the situation.”
“Mr. Clarke, I’m…” I have always had more than enough ‘productive client interactions’ to be relaxed about my quota, but my income depends on my appointments. The salary is minimal. I can only survive on it with the client interaction credits, and they don’t carry from month to month. Losing almost a week’s hours could kick an ugly hole in my paycheck.
“This situation,” Mr. Clarke is turning away. His eyes are cold. “I hope I won’t need to ask you for an explanation.”
Chapter 8
Him
By the time I get back to my car, I’m sure I’ve lost her. I follow the road back down the hill, but I haven’t seen her little car and I’m back on the interstate. I want to give her space, but I have to make sure she’s safe.
I’m headed back for Portland and I call Pacific Surety. While I wait for an answer, I have the phone look up the company’s location. Turns out they have offices all over the state. After I dodge the company’s call handling obstacle course of machine responses, I tell the first human I get to connect me to Max Carter.
The call taker tells me she will do her best to help me this morning and asks what my enquiry is about. I tell her I have a query about a valuation. She asks me for the policy number. I tell her it’s about how a valuation was taken. She asks if I need to talk to the compliance team. I tell her I want to talk to Ms. Carter and can she tell me which office she is at. She tells me to hold.
After a very long wait, a male voice asks me for my name.
Angry, I hang up.
The map gives ten locations for Pacific Surety in Portland. I pull over in a strip mall. With her name and her employer’s name, I should be able to get something from the EagleEye web service I use to get background on clients. I get out and retrieve my laptop from the trunk.
All I can get that’s of any use is her cellphone number. There’s an add-on to the service that will track a cellphone. I’m kicking myself I didn’t sign up for it. I double check the page. It’s as I remembered. There’s a twenty-four to thirty-six hour delay to get the service up.
Cursing, I sign up for it, anyway.
There’s a branch of Pacific Surety about ten blocks away. I’ll make someone in there tell me where she is.
Parking is almost impossible here. I have to stop nearly two blocks from the office. I’m already balling my fists. When I passed the office door, the only I way I could see to get in was with a card or through an entry speaker. I’m preparing myself for another round of hoop-jumping, but this time shouting on the sidewalk at a tin box.
As I get back to the block where the office is, a man is going in through the door. I run to get there before the door closes, but I’m too late. I’m two steps away when the door is click shut. I’m about to press the button to start trying to bluff my way in. I take a breath so I at least sound calm.
Her Prius passes the far end of the street.
Chapter 9
Her
My voice echoes in the small, steel room. “Mr. Clarke, sir,” Through the phone, I hear him sigh. “Mr. Bosman said I can get sight of the certificates.”
“Max, we talked about this. Just take some time out to think, okay?” I cover the mouthpiece of the phone as I shake my head. Bosman’s hard eyes narrowed and his lips tightened.
Quickly, I tell Mr. Clarke, “He wants me to meet him. Right now.”
“Max,” sad disappointment drips through Mr. Clarke’s voice. I hurry on, “He’s at his bank and…”
“No, Max. no. Call me on Monday.” He hangs up.
In the shiny corner of the room, Bear cracks his knuckles in a rhythmic rattle. Bosman shakes his head as he looks back at Bear.
“Well,” he tells me, “We have to find some way to stop you reporting to your office. I wonder how we can do that.”
After I left the office, my instinct told me not to take Bosman’s calls. I wouldn’t have, either. I got muddled up, and I thought I was answering a call from Christof.
I didn’t want to agree to the meeting in the safe deposit room of a private Columbian bank, either. I had a bad feeling about it. Since I arrived, he’s made no move to open a box or to show me his COA’s like he promised.
The room is small. There’s a small metal table in the center, and all four walls are lined with locked steel boxes. I’m not usually claustrophobic, but I’m holding down a rising sense of panic now.
I don’t want to think what he’ll do if I tell him that I’ve already reported to Mr. Clarke. I have to keep him thinking I can be some use to him.
I flinch when Bosman reaches out and takes hold of my jaw. “Maybe I should let Bear have a little time to persuade you.” I look him in the eye. I force myself to stay calm. Not to give in to a sense of fear.
Still looking at me, he says, “What do you think, Bear? Can you get her to help us?”
Bear laughs, cracking his knuckles.
The thick steel door swing open. One of the Columbians, a smartly dressed young woman, says, “Mr. Bosman, you have another visitor.”
Bosman’s face crumples into a snarl, “What?”
He spins around to see Christof in the doorway.
Chapter 10
him
I run straight to Max, past Bosman and Bear. Her eyes are wide and she’s pointing and shaking her head. Bosman darts out of the room and Bear follows behind him.
Bear laughs as he shoves me from behind. Bosman is asking the bank official, “The vault will be locked until ten a.m.?” Then, “Maybe you can unseal it late tomorrow.”
Before I can turn, the foot-thick door has closed.
Max runs at the door and hammers her fist on it. She regrets it immediately.
Then she turns and runs into my arms. Holding her, feeling her heart pound, I pull her close. I tell her, “It’s going to be OK.” In my arms, she shakes like a frightened bird. I want her so badly. I know she’ll feel it, too. But if we’re trapped in here, I have to resist.
She deserves a better man than me. And I can’t let myself take her when she’s so vulnerable. Stopping myself won’t be easy, but I have to do it. Even though all of my blood and sinew buzzes and hammers for her and all my nerves are alight.
Holding her wrist and with her lips pursed tight, she says, “Did he call you to come, too?”
“No. I saw your Prius and I followed you.”
“I bet you regret that now.”
“How could I?” I’m looking around. There’s just one camera I can see, in the far corner. I take out a pack of chewing gum and hand a stick to her before I unwrap one for myself. She frowns, quizzical. With my back to the camera, so my body blocks my hand from its view, I point to it.
“Ooh!” her face lights up as she takes the gum and says, “Are you going to break us out?”
Flattening the silver paper from my stick, I smile and shake my head. “No, we’ll have to wait it out.”
She pops the gum in her mouth. She looks insolent, defiant when she starts to chew. It’s like seeing her playing a part. It’s sexy, and it turns me on.
I don’t tell her, but blocking the camera is the one chance I can think of to get us out of here. I’m not saying because it probably won’t work. If a time-switch has been se
t, however mad they may go watching the black screen, they’d have no way to override the lock.
Even if they could, I think they’d take the chance anyway and leave us in.
Still, I’m not going to have some Columbian security guard jacking off to watch her sleep.
Chewing, she asks, “You don’t think we’ll suffocate?”
“No. these places are super well ventilated. If they wanted to kill us, we’d already be dead. What did Bosman want? Was he going to force you to make a false report?”
“I don’t know. He said he was going to show me the COA’s here. I think he might have meant to. I called my boss, mainly so someone knew I was here, but he’s so angry with me right now, he hung up on me.”
“Why is he angry?”
Her brow folds in a puzzled wrinkle.
“Oh, I don’t know. Could be to do with the strict rules we have about socializing with anyone we meet in the line of work.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, I only went for coffee right? What’s the big deal? I had coffee with an art dealer.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“An art dealer who used to be a forger.”
“Right.”
“But not for too long, though, right? It was just while he was finding his feet. After he gave up bank robbery. Anyway, there’s nothing to it.”
“Yes. I see.”
“And we had a kiss. Just one kiss, that’s all. Okay, I kissed him. But I had to. And he licked my soul clean out of me.”
She’s playing with me now. Taunting me. Teasing. I know that I’m falling.
“But that’s all,” she says, “So what’s the fuss? That I fell into the arms of the art dealer I met at the sketchiest client we have who wants insurance for what’s looking increasingly like some very questionable art. A dealer who happens to have been a forger. Why would anyone be bothered about any of that? In an insurance company?”
“Ok. I get it.” I take a slow breath. “But you told him about it, yes? That counts for something, surely.”
“Actually, no. You told him.”
“What?”
“He was holding my work phone that you somehow seemed to have gotten the number of.” She’s on fire. Max is fabulous when she’s angry.
I just nod. I don’t trust myself to speak.
“My boss was reading the screen when you texted. Saying ‘I have to see you.’ Remember that?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry about that.”
“No worry. It’s only a job. Maybe I should take up forgery. Or blackmail. Or whatever-the-fuck-it is that Bosman does. Do you know what Bosman does, by the way?”
“No. But I suspected it involved drugs. The Columbian connection seems to point that way.”
“Mm. I thought about that, too.”
I put out my hand for her to give me her gum. Her eyes are still blazing as she looks into mine, leaning forward to drop the gum from her lips. I take mine out of my mouth and roll the two pieces together. Then I climb up onto the table. It’s a stretch, but I think I can just reach the camera.
She sighs, “You do have the longest legs and arms.” I nearly fall. Stretching, I get the gum onto the lens of the camera. Then, for good measure, I stick the flattened square of foil onto that.
“Clever,” she says as I sit down on the edge of the table. “So, even if the gum doesn’t cover the camera’s view completely, the silver paper will block it.” Then she says, “I’m disappointed the great bank robber can’t break us out, though.”
“I didn’t break in and out of bank vaults with my teeth and nails you know.”
“No special magic cufflinks? No laser tiepin?” She takes out her phone. “I suppose there won’t be a signal in here.” She’s checking.
“No. Not with the door shut, I wouldn’t think.”
Looking at her phone, she shakes her head. “Can’t even watch movies. Lucky I’ve got a fresh bottle of water in my purse.” She smiles, “And you’ve got gum.”
“We’re set.” Then I remember, “I think I’ve got a movie downloaded on my phone.”
“Okay.”
“It’s called ‘Bridesmaids.’ Have you seen it?”
Chapter 11
Him
She looks at me wide eyed. “Really?” Then she laughs. “You’ve got Bridesmaids on your phone? Is that your favorite movie?”
“No. A friend told me it would help me understand American culture. When I saw it, I decided she was having a joke at my expense. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I completely understood it.”
Her head is shaking. “You are full of surprises. Did you like it?”
“It was incredibly funny. The cop was a bit of a dick, though.” I check that it is still on the phone. “I think it’ll run without a connection. Of course, it will. I watched it on the plane. You want to watch it?”
“Sure. Maybe we should save it for later, though. We’ve got about eighteen hours to go.”
“I don’t have anything to eat,” I tell her. “But you’ve got water, so if you’re willing to share it, we’ll be fine.”
“Of course I’ll share it. Wish I had a bigger bottle, though.” Then she says, “I have a couple of cookies, too. Maybe some chocolate.”
“You keep those,” I say.
“We’ll share.”
“Really. I’m fine. You have them.”
She jumps up to sit on the table. “What do you think they’ll do?” I was dreading her asking me that.
“Who?” I’m stalling.
“Bosman. The Columbians. What do you think they’ll do in the morning?”
“I don’t think they’ll do anything. Bosman probably won’t even be here. They’ll probably just let us out.”
“What about his insurance?”
“He knows there’s no way he can get it from Pacific Surety now,” I tell her. “He has no choice but to shop around for it.”
She’s sitting close to me. Near enough that I can feel the warmth of her body. The scent of her is mixed with the hay and strawberry smell of her hair. It’s intoxicating. Her voice is soft.
“You don’t really believe that,” she’s calm. “I think you have an idea what they’ll do. You just don’t want to say.”
“Actually, I don’t. I doubt if they do, either. Bosman is not a planner.”
“So what do you think will happen?”
“I think we’ll have to wait and see,” I tell her. “And so will they.”
Then the lights go out.
“What…” she says.
I touch her arm. “Shh. Stay still.”
“Do you think they can hear us?”
“Probably not. But don’t worry. Just stay still for a little while. Let your eyes get used to the dark.”
Christof Brutal (Bad Russian Book 12) Page 4