by G. K. Parks
“Who else were they protecting?” I wondered if Wheeler was their sole focus or simply one that they didn’t give two shits about. I wouldn’t have wasted too much effort protecting someone like him. He wasn’t worth it.
Mark skimmed the list again. “Two other congressmen and a state governor.” We exchanged a look. “Wheeler probably wasn’t their top priority.”
“Okay, how about we swing by and have a chat with the Secret Service brass and see what actions and protocols their agents followed. After all, you have an OIO badge, and I worked as a third party contractor. Clearly, we should be a shoo-in for getting the answers we want.”
He picked up my mug and sniffed. “Well, you aren’t drunk.” He squinted, focusing on my pupils. “And you don’t appear to be high. My next guess is delusional and suffering a psychotic break from reality.”
“None of the above.” Smiling, I collected my belongings and grabbed my car keys. “After this, we’ll stop by the hospital and have a word with my actual client, so if you’re going to continue to act this demeaning, you’ll be introduced as my secretary.
* * *
“Miss Parker, we protect all assets equally,” the Secret Service agent in charge of coordinating with PDN responded, casting his eyes at Mark. “And Agent Jablonsky, our procedures and protocols were strictly by the book.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Mark replied.
“Seriously, you expect me to believe that a former senator under investigation for a laundry list of crimes is considered just as important as our current political leaders?” I retorted.
His face read the truth, but he wouldn’t waver from the company line. “This is not an issue of guarding the President or protecting vital information in the name of national security. We were present at the conference to safeguard our assets and to ensure the delegates from other nations were equally protected. It’s a shame that an unrelated crime occurred at the same time. It gives us a bad name and makes our agents seem incompetent when they are not.” He stood. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he gestured to the door, “work waits for no man.”
Mark nodded curtly and led me out of the room. “They didn’t fuck up,” he whispered as the elevator doors closed. “Don’t make accusations that might ruin the names of good men.”
Rolling my eyes, I let out a sigh. “You really think I’d do that?”
“Not intentionally.”
We remained silent until we were back inside my car and on the way to the hospital. Certain aspects still didn’t make much sense, and nothing would have pleased me more than to rip the entire thing apart and reconstruct it from the ground up. Unfortunately, we were too far past that. Two dead. One poisoned. And far too many suspects and clues to untangle the information into a usable theory.
“What do you want me to do?” Mark asked, drawing me from my thoughts. “I’m not exactly in a position to evaluate other agencies’ actions. This isn’t my case or my jurisdiction.”
“I don’t care about Wheeler or Costan or who Jason Oster’s boning. All I want to know is who killed Alvin Hodge and poisoned Paul Eastman.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Pulling into the parking lot outside the hospital, I killed the engine and took a breath. “Eastman’s my client. His safety is my only priority. The rest of this mess,” I shrugged, “is so far beyond the scope of a guy hanging from a cable near the elevators. Someone screwed up. I don’t know if it was hotel security, or PDN, or one of our beloved federal agencies. I also don’t know who’s pulling the strings. But y’know what, it doesn’t matter.” My mind settled around this fact. For once, it didn’t matter. It really wasn’t my concern. Maybe I was finally getting the hang of this private investigator thing. Proud of my new revelation, I opened my car door. “Now I plan to have a lovely chat with Paul and take it from there. Feel free to join me, or you can wait here. It’s up to you.”
“I’ll come inside.” He looked skeptical. “That break from reality you’re experiencing seems to be getting worse. Maybe you should have an evaluation done while we’re here.”
Instead of requesting information as to the whereabouts of Mr. Eastman, I simply wandered the hallways until I found a police presence. Being under guard made it pretty easy to locate someone, just follow the uniforms. After ensuring the person under armed guard was in fact Paul and not some Saudi prince or prison break risk, I flashed my credentials. The officer snorted and shook his head.
“Detective Jacobs will vouch for me,” I insisted.
“Really?” The cop looked skeptical. “Why don’t we ask him and see what he has to say?” He tapped on the door, and a second later, Jacobs stepped into the hallway. “Sir,” the officer began, “this P.I. wanted to chat with the man we have in custody.”
“It took you long enough to show up, Parker,” Jacobs replied, ignoring the running commentary from the officer. “Agent Jablonsky,” he nodded to Mark, “is the FBI stepping in again?”
“No,” I answered for Mark, waiting for Jacobs to grant permission to enter the room, “he’s just here for moral support.”
“What the hell.” Jacobs pushed the door wide open. “Maybe you can convince Mr. Eastman to remain in our protection. Now that the hospital is discharging him, he’s refusing protective custody.” Jacobs’ eyes communicated the agreement we reached earlier. It was my turn to try to persuade Paul to listen to reason.
“Can’t imagine why,” I muttered. Inside the room, Paul was on the edge of the bed, tying his shoe. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Alexis,” he smiled, “from the stories I’ve heard, I think I owe you my thanks.”
“Well, you’re welcome.” There was no reason to mention the fact that I simply kept an eye on him because I thought he was going through the DTs. “I hear you don’t want to stay under armed guard.” The sarcasm was obvious, and he rolled his eyes. “Detective Jacobs thinks it would be in your best interest to remain safe and protected, especially after being poisoned.”
“Yeah, just like pinning two homicides on me was in my best interest too.” He tossed a scathing look at Jacobs. “No thanks. I’m so out of here. And if you plan to charge me with something else, I will have my lawyer file harassment charges to go along with my claims of unlawful arrest. Do I make myself clear?” Jacobs emitted a low growl but remained silent. “By the way, thanks for the high-powered attorney.”
Without turning, I felt the icy glare on my back. Thanks for bringing that up at this particular moment, Paul. “Okay, so what are you planning to do?” I asked, focusing on his current dilemma. “You can’t go home. Your house is a crime scene, and someone wants you dead.”
He shifted his gaze from me to Jacobs and then settled on Mark. “Hi,” he stood and offered his hand, “Paul Eastman.”
“I’m Parker’s secretary,” Mark huffed, ignoring the gesture. “And let me guess, you can’t answer her question, can you, kid?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “In case you haven’t realized this yet, whatever’s going on is much bigger than you. And if you want to keep breathing, you’re gonna need protection and probably a new refrigerator.”
“Like what I’ve been telling you,” Jacobs added.
“You’ve done personal security before,” Paul said, ignoring the two men and speaking only to me. “It was mentioned on your résumé. So how ‘bout I upgrade my service plan?”
“I don’t do that kind of work anymore,” I replied.
“Come on,” his eyes pleaded, “name your price. We need to discuss your changing role anyway. It seems I might need you to look into a few other things, like determining who wants me dead.”
“That’s what the police department is working on,” Jacobs hissed.
Spinning on my heel, I faced the detective. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” I jerked my chin toward the door. “You can’t force someone into protective custody, just like you can’t force cooperation.”
“No, but I can hold you for obstruction and impedin
g a police investigation.”
“Well, you have my address if you decide I’m impeding, but I don’t think that will be an issue. Didn’t we find some common ground this morning?”
With any luck, Jacobs would read between the lines. We agreed to work together, and by stepping in as Paul’s bodyguard, maybe he’d provide answers to our questions. There was no privilege when it came to information between a P.I. and her client, and I had no qualms about aiding an open investigation, especially if it would lead to tracking down a killer.
“I hope this doesn’t go horribly wrong.” Jacobs marched out of the room and slammed the door.
Mark let out an audible sigh but didn’t move from his spot against the wall. We made eye contact for half a second, and it was obvious he thought this was a bad idea. It wasn’t one of my better ones, but it didn’t seem that horrible either.
“This is Mark,” I said, introducing the two men. “You can speak freely in front of him. He taught me everything I know.”
Paul nodded and slumped back against the bed. “Where do we begin?”
“We’ll start with finding you a place to stay,” I began, leading the way to the door. “Nothing too fancy, but we’ll shoot for something nicer than a roach motel. Don’t use your credit cards, make any phone calls, or let anyone know where you are. You’re staying off the grid until we determine what’s going on.”
“Okay, but…”
“And you’ll do what I say when I say it. No questions. No arguments. And the same goes for anything Mark tells you. If you can’t agree to these terms, I will no longer provide you with any type of security and you’re on your own. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Paul walked out of the hospital room behind me, and Mark brought up the rear. It was beginning to feel like we were moving in a convoy. Maybe I should have taken a job with the Secret Service. When we made it to my car, I opened the back door and closed it once Eastman was inside.
“Are you sure you aren’t having a psychotic break?” Mark asked, giving me that knowing look over the roof of my car.
“Actually, it seems there’s a good chance I am. Feel free to put me down before I completely lose it.”
He smirked, and we climbed inside.
Twenty-two
“Looks like you’re all set,” I remarked, scanning the room a final time. “No credit cards. No phone calls.” Ripping the motel provided phone from the wall might have been overkill, so I didn’t resort to the theatrics. “Mark’s picking up a throwaway you can use to keep in contact with me and only me. Once he gets back, I’ll drop by an ATM and get some cash you can use in the meantime. I’ll add it to your billable expenses.”
“Gee, thanks.” Paul hopped onto one of the beds and propped himself up on the pillows. “So what am I supposed to do now?”
“What do you want to do?” I sat on the other bed.
“Go home, take a shower, put on some fresh clothes, eat a decent meal, watch some TV, and resume living my life.”
“Well, the shower’s that way.” I jerked my thumb toward the bathroom. “Just don’t drink the water.” He blanched. “Too soon?”
“Alexis,” his tone was commanding, like it had been when he was ordering me around at PDN, “I’d like a workable timetable and plan of action for the course of your investigation. And I’d like it ASAP.”
“Do you want a PowerPoint presentation to go with it?”
“Only if it’ll help illustrate your plan.” He swung his legs off the bed and sat up so he could face me directly. “Stop being so abrasive. I’m not your enemy. I’m the only one who has any right to be pissed, particularly after the way you’ve been acting, but I’m giving you a chance to prove you know what the hell you’re doing. I owe you. So here’s your perfect opportunity.”
“God, you’re unbelievable.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I didn’t ask for this, and hiring me isn’t some grand favor. Hell, before everything is said and done, I might end up arrested for obstruction.”
“That cop won’t arrest you. No one in the precinct will. Even stuck inside that horrible cell, I could still hear the whispers circulating about the sexy private eye.”
“Yeah, and my phone number’s written on the wall in the men’s locker room. What the hell’s your point?”
“The point is the cops think you’re impressive, and I don’t want to end up in the ground because of whatever the fuck is going on at the hotel. Alvin’s dead.” His face contorted, and he looked away. “That other guy was beaten to death. And despite how convinced you were that I’m an alcoholic, it turns out those were symptoms of fluoride toxicity, which means I’m next unless someone steps in. Obviously, you’re my best chance. After all, you found me in the cell. You got in contact with that attorney. And you convinced the police to cut me loose. It would be stupid to change horses mid-stream.” His gaze returned to me. “Why do you have to act like this is the worst job in the world? I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. I’m not hiring you to sleep with me or anything, so what’s your deal?”
“I’m sorry.” There was no reason to act this way, but something about his personality grated on my nerves. It probably had to do with his underhanded business practices and corporate espionage attempts. “I was wrong not to take you at your word, especially after you’ve been so forthcoming about your questionable activities.” The sarcasm dripped from every word.
“Is that what this is about?”
“Truthfully,” I inhaled deeply, “I don’t know what this is about. Maybe it’s that. Maybe I’m still pissed about the Martin Technologies thing.” He nodded, looking contrite. “Or I’m frustrated because there are so many things going on that I’m suddenly aware of, and none of them are good. We have a lot to talk about. And full disclosure, the last time I pretended to be a bodyguard, my client almost bled to death. So don’t assume that I’m your best bet.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Before he could say another word, Mark announced himself and opened the door. He carried a stack of bags and dropped them on the bed next to Eastman. “Here are some essentials. Get yourself cleaned up. We have a lot to accomplish tonight.”
Paul picked up the bags and went into the bathroom. Getting up, I went to the door. “Can you watch him while I pick up a few things, phone Jacobs, and catch my breath?”
“Sure.” Mark found the remote and flicked on the TV, stretching out on the bed I just vacated. “Grab some snacks and sandwiches.” He jerked his chin at the mini-fridge and microwave. “We’re gonna need them.” Before I made it to the door, he added, “And don’t forget, the hospital said Paul needs to get plenty of calcium to counteract the effects of the fluoride.”
“What flavor?” I asked, knowing exactly where this conversation was going.
“I’m thinking mint chocolate chip or maybe pistachio.”
“Green it is.”
Shutting the door, I leaned against the hard surface and stared over the railing at the parking lot below. It was one of the cheaper chain motels. The room was registered in Mark’s name, so it was safe. No one would think to look for Paul Eastman here, which gave me time to figure things out. Now the only question was where to begin. First, I needed to figure out which way was up.
“Detective Jacobs, please. Tell him it’s Alex Parker,” I said into the receiver as I headed away from the motel.
“Parker,” he responded a few seconds later, “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Has Eastman changed his mind about protective custody?”
“No. And you and I both know after the way he was jerked around that he’s not changing his mind. However, the only reason I’ve agreed to keep an eye on him is as a favor to you.”
“Really?”
“Yep. After the agreement we reached this morning, it seemed only fair. So when can I expect those files?”
“Is that the only way you’ll trade information?”
“At the moment, yes.”
The silence la
sted longer than it should, and then Jacobs cleared his throat. “Twenty minutes. I’ll send a uniform to deliver copies to your office. Don’t make me regret this.”
“Have you regretted any of our previous encounters?”
“Well, I wasn’t too fond of your unhelpful statement when I questioned you about the recovery of O’Connell’s niece a few months back, but you get the job done. Just make sure there isn’t reason for me to regret this one.”
“I’ll call in the morning with an update.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The click sounded in my ear, and I pulled to a stop in front of my office and rubbed the bridge of my nose. There were a couple of things I swore I’d never do. One was returned to the OIO, which was what I recently tried to do. The other was act as someone’s bodyguard. On the plus side, I didn’t think Paul Eastman would bother to knock me out of the way of a bullet, so there wasn’t much chance he’d die saving me. At least there was something to be said for cowardice.
Stepping inside, I dispensed with the mail and messages; then I spoke briefly with the security guards at Martin Technologies. My meeting with Luc was still scheduled for Thursday afternoon, and at the moment, I wasn’t positive I’d be able to make it. Maybe with a bit of bribery, Mark would keep an eye on Paul while I explained the recommended system alterations. Why wasn’t I getting paid for this? Oh yeah, I screwed up. That seemed to be one of those things that kept happening frequently.
I checked the time. The police files should be arriving in five minutes. Then I’d stop for cash, ice cream, and some basic supplies, and return to the motel so we could get to work. With nothing better to do, I shut my eyes and processed through everything I knew. When the bell chimed above my door, I opened my eyes and smiled.
“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me. Oh wait, that’s because you were.”
“Sorry, Parker,” Detective O’Connell offered, dropping a couple of files on my desk. “Duty comes first. And for some reason, I was ordered to stay away from you.” He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine why that would be, can you?” He took a seat and studied me. “At least you’re no longer a murder suspect.”