Macho Man Murder

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Macho Man Murder Page 17

by Leslie Langtry


  My hand flew up to my heart. "Not my fault. Others were involved in those."

  "You have to admit though, Bitsy could say the same thing about you."

  I thought about this. "I've never made a conscious effort to wipe out my past. They turned up here on their own or because someone else brought them here. But this seems like Bitsy is making a concerted effort to hunt these people down."

  "Why would she want to do that?"

  "It's not that strange. The CIA makes people crazy sometimes. Which is how agents go rogue, quit outright, or just vanish."

  "Or get outed on international television," Rex said.

  "Or that."

  We got the lasagna and garlic bread onto the table and began to eat. Rex was mulling over what I'd told him. I was thinking over what Ahmed had said. What I really wanted to do was check my email, but Rex and I avoided looking at our phones at dinner.

  We'd really settled into a very comfortable life here. Rex had come to terms with my past and my current lifestyle. He was a saint. I'm not the easiest person to live with. Then again, he grew up with Randi and Ronni…

  "The twins!" I interrupted the silence. "You went to see them! What did they say?"

  Rex picked up his wine and drank before answering. Was he stalling? Or just thirsty?

  "My sisters," he began, "are refusing to listen to reason."

  "They're going through with it."

  He nodded. "They're going through with it. Ronni favors a long engagement with a June wedding for some reason. But Randi wants to get married right away. She even asked me to officiate."

  I looked at him curiously. "Can you do that?"

  He held his hands up. "Only if I take an online course. Which I'm not going to do."

  "What did you say?"

  "That I'd talk to our parents. Randi said she already did. And that they are okay with it."

  Bob and Milli, Rex's parents, were very sweet people who owned a Greek restaurant in Des Moines. I could see them agreeing with it.

  "I wonder what your sisters said to your parents about Ivan and Ron?"

  "That they were great guys and friends of yours," Rex said drily.

  "What? That makes me responsible for them! She actually said I vouched for them?"

  Rex nodded. "She did. And she wants the men to move into their house. But I talked them out of that. They're okay with their fiancés staying at your house."

  "I'm still not okay with that. I hold my Girl Scout meetings there!"

  My husband insisted, "Well, that's where they are going tomorrow. Unless Immigration comes for them."

  "Did you rat them out?"

  He looked surprised. "Of course not. I'm not going to do that."

  Rex's cell rang. He gave me a questioning look and then answered it. After a grimace, he hung up.

  "I've got to go in. Officer Dooley handcuffed himself to the jail cell bars again."

  I was not in the least surprised. "Where's his key?"

  "He swallowed it."

  Leave it to Kevin to eat that too. "Why would he do that?"

  "He wanted to see if, and I quote, 'he could use his mind to unlock the cuffs.'"

  That sounded about right. "I'm going out to look for Hilly. Don't wait up when you get home. You go. I'll clean up."

  Rex kissed me before grabbing his keys and walking out the door.

  I sat there with the lasagna on the table, checking my email on my cell. Nothing. Ahmed wasn't going to get any cookies if he didn't come through.

  Philby and Martini jumped up onto the table. Leonard laid his head on it, whining for the lasagna.

  "Sorry, guys," I said as Martini fell sideways on the table into one of her narcoleptic stupors. "I've got to put this away."

  Philby stared hard at the lasagna, as if she expected some creature to come crawling out of it at any minute. I handed Leonard a piece of garlic bread because he was behaving. Philby glared at me. Then she walked over to the pan, climbed inside, and sat down in the lasagna, fixing me with a smug stare.

  "I'm not washing that off you," I sighed as I got up to clear the table.

  Philby stayed put. I was tempted to hold her and have Leonard lick her clean. But I didn't have time for that.

  When I left fifteen minutes later, Leonard was staring at her on the table while she made no move to leave. She had finally gotten herself painted into a corner that she couldn't get out of.

  The thought made me smile as I walked across the street to my old house.

  "Hilly!" I shouted after walking inside.

  I didn't do nearly as thorough a search. But I did notice that some of the food in the fridge was now gone. And the remains were in the garbage. She was still here alright.

  "Hilly! I need to talk to you as soon as possible," I called out and then texted her.

  What's up? came the reply. How was she so clueless about this?

  Where are you? We need to talk. Now.

  At the zoo. Did you know Mr. Fancy Pants isn't doing well?

  Stay there. On my way.

  There was no chance she was going to handle this without me. Besides, I wanted to talk to her, not just about Wally's murder, but also about what I'd found out about Bitsy. I checked my empty email once more, cursed Ahmed, and then headed out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I'd never been to the zoo this early after closing before. Usually I waited until it was really late. It made me a little nervous as I let myself into the building housing the vulture's enclosure. What if there were any staff still around? Sure, I had Dr. Wulf's permission, but I wasn't quite sure how to explain that.

  "Hilly!" I called out as I walked in.

  Two meerkats were both riding on the same tortoise, and they seemed to wave as they went slowly by. Dickie was preening himself. He stopped the moment he heard my voice. He looked at the window to see that it was daylight, then looked back to me.

  "Mom!" he shrieked. "Demigods don't do the dishes!"

  Ah. Stewie must've taken over the last kid's job. Hopefully he wouldn't feel the need to replace me as Bird Goddess. That had kind of become my thing.

  "Hilly?"

  The tall Amazon stepped out of the shadows. "Hey, Merry!" She waved as though I hadn't been looking all over for her.

  "Stay there!" I shouted as I made my way to her.

  She looked around as if I might be talking to someone else. "Where else would I go? I called you, remember?"

  She rolled her eyes for effect.

  "Bird Goddess!" Dickie shrieked, stopping me in my tracks. "Bird Goddess is Beetle Dork!"

  Oh crap. How had Stewie figured it out? Those kids couldn't possibly be smarter than I imagined them to be. I thought I spotted a flicker of amusement in Hilly's eyes. Or maybe it was confusion. It's hard to read an assassin's mind, and nobody really wanted to.

  I joined her just outside Mr. Fancy Pants' enclosure. He did look dejected. The vulture gave me a long look and then turned his back to me. My heart wrenched to see him like that. The poor raptor.

  "Bird Goddess Beetle Dork! Bird Goddess Beetle Dork!" Dickie shrieked with his wings held high.

  I wondered if silencing Dickie would cheer Mr. Fancy Pants up. It would certainly go a long way to improving my mood.

  But right now, I had Hilly cornered. Sort of.

  I turned to her. "I really need to know what happened that night with Wally."

  She shrugged. "I already told you."

  "No, you didn't. You just said you didn't kill him."

  Hilly laughed out loud. I just stared at her until she stopped. Finally, she did.

  "What's so funny?" I demanded.

  "You are, silly! Your problem is solved, but you've made yourself crazy trying to figure it out. Don't."

  Of course Hilly would see it this way. "Ron and Ivan don't deserve to go to prison for something they didn't do."

  There I was again, sticking up for those two.

  "I don't see why not," Hilly said. "They are the bad guys, Merry. I'm the good
guy."

  "Tell me what you know about Bitsy," I insisted. "If you didn't do it, and I'm not agreeing that you didn't, then I think she did."

  This seemed to catch her off guard. "Why do you think that?"

  I got the feeling she was toying with me. Like a cat with a mouse before pouncing.

  "I just found out from a contact at Langley that the Agency is looking for her. She killed two guys in Greece who she'd been embedded with."

  "So you think she's cleaning house," Hilly speculated.

  "Is that one of your euphemisms? Because it's not terribly original."

  She shook her head. "No. Just a turn of phrase."

  "What do you know about that? About Bitsy?" As soon as the words hit my lips, I realized that maybe Hilly was here for Bitsy. Maybe she was on assignment! How could I have missed that? I doubted that Ahmed would give me anything else. And I didn't have any more cookies to bargain with.

  I let myself into the enclosure and sat down next to Mr. Fancy Pants. Very slowly, I reached up and stroked his stubbly, dark purple head. He fixed me with one googly eye before jumping down and running to the corner, where he stood like an extra in The Blair Witch Project.

  "I think he's lonely," Hilly said.

  I didn't want to upset him further, so I got up and left the enclosure, locking the door behind me.

  Dickie broke into a startling impression of Johnny Mathis. "Lonely, I'm Mister Lonely, I've got nobody, to call my own!"

  Maybe I needed to get Stewie a girl too.

  "Never mind all that. I need to know about Wally!" My hands were clenched at my side.

  Hilly was playing with me, plain and simple. Why would she do that? What had I ever done to her? Then again, maybe she felt like my pursuit of this was disloyal. She'd taken care of a problem for me, and I was trying to nail her for murder.

  If only I didn't have a conscience. A conscience is a dangerous thing in a spy. It makes them lose perspective. Was I losing perspective in helping Ron and Ivan? Hilly had a point—they were the baddies. And she was one of the good guys.

  "Ron and Ivan are getting released in the morning. Rex wants to put them up at my old house."

  Hilly nodded, as if she expected this.

  "I can't tell if you're staying there or not," I admitted. "But I do think it would be uncomfortable for you. You can stay in our guest room. You just have to give Rex a statement so that it won't be weird."

  "I've got something I need to do first. But thanks. I'll just go back to the Radisson."

  So she was there! "You've been staying there?"

  "Of course! I kept the food at your place because your fridge is bigger."

  Stuart said Hilly wasn't in the register. Ugh. I wanted to slap myself. Of course she was under a fake name. That pointed to her following Bitsy.

  "I can drop off the food. You're staying under Hilly Vinton, right?"

  "Of course." She shrugged. "I've got to go. I promise I'll stop by the station in the morning and give Rex my statement. Okay?"

  She said it like she was trying to get me off of her back. It stung. But what stung more was that she lied to me about using her name at the hotel. I watched her go, realizing that I really didn't know Hilly like I thought I did. I wanted to call her back, but then she might not go see Rex in the morning, and I really needed her to do that.

  "Fool me once," Dickie shrieked. "Shame on you! Fool me twice…"

  Shame on me.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As darkness descended, I found myself back in the Radisson parking lot, staring at the hotel. As I waited for Stuart to leave, I thought about what Hilly had said. She hadn't given me anything new on Wally. But she did make me wonder if she was here to take out Bitsy. I hoped she would. But then I couldn't nail Bitsy for murder.

  My cell buzzed with a text from Odious the Demigod.

  Need the comics. Bought a special box for them. Others are waiting too. This isn't just about you, you know. There is no I in Team.

  There's no Bird Goddess in Team either, and if Stewie didn't knock it off, I was going to ask for my $50 back and quit. Okay, so that's not very intimidating, and it was bad form to promise the druids something and then not deliver.

  But did I really want Beetle Dork out there? On the one hand, it embarrassed me and made that idiot Harold look amazing. But then again, did it even matter? Who would even know I was Beetle Dork anyway? I reached back to the bags and pulled out a comic.

  I hadn't really gone too far into the book. I'd like to say that I turned the page and found out the Arab had dreamed it and Beetle Dork really did save the day. Sadly, that wasn't the case. Beetle Dork found herself in many misadventures, always rescued by the Arab. I tossed the book onto the passenger seat in disgust. Harold had to be behind this. I'd let him off too easy.

  Right on time, Stuart walked out of the hotel and seemed to be headed right for me.

  Ducking down in the seat, I held a mirror out to see what was happening. Seriously? Stewie's dad was headed right for me. I heard the jangle of keys and realized that I had parked right next to him. And since I'd backed in and his car faced the other way, Stuart was mere inches away.

  At this point I was completely doubled over, but it was probably still obvious that someone was in this car. And from my position, it must've looked like I was unconscious.

  "Are you okay in there?" Stuart's question was accompanied by a tap on the window.

  I sat straight up and rolled the window down.

  "Oh! Hi! Again!" I said.

  "Ah, Mrs. Ferguson." Stuart grinned. "I forgot you said you'd be back to pick up your friends for dinner." He looked at his watch. "It's a little late, isn't it?"

  Oh! Right. The lie.

  "They're from Omaha," I said quickly. "You know how those city types are. Always eating late at night."

  If this was a strange thing to say, Stuart ignored it.

  "By the way, I'm sorry you had to help that awful woman out." He giggled. "Boy, was she mad about the bill."

  "Oh, that!" I said brightly. "I'd forgotten all about that! Sorry!"

  "Oh no." He shook his head. "It made my day. Mrs. Bend had been driving me nuts ever since she checked in yesterday because the bed wasn't soft enough, the towels were the wrong color, and thinking I was pumping carbon dioxide into her room to stunt her son's puberty. Thank you!"

  "Great!" I said as I started rolling up the window.

  Stuart got into his car and drove away. It was time to pay Bitsy a little visit. Before getting out of the car, I spotted two security cameras, both aimed just outside the front door. There was a small blind spot just in the middle. If I went outside of the camera's range and hugged the wall to the door, I could probably slip in unseen. There looked to be about a three-foot blind spot in front of the doors.

  A dark-haired woman whose face I couldn't see was working at the front desk when I peeked in. I didn't recognize her, which was good. But I needed a way to get past her. In any other town, I'd just walk through to the elevators purposefully like I was staying there. But here in Who's There, she could be someone who knew me or who knew someone who knew me.

  I should've swiped a key card when I was here earlier. Maybe I could've activated it and come in through the back exit. But I hadn't. I'd need to improvise. And even though it was dark, I couldn't lurk at the front entrance all night. I needed a plan. Preferably a foolproof plan I'd come up with earlier.

  Come on, Merry, think. Even though this was a small town that very few people visited, I knew that sooner or later a car would pull into the lot, and someone would get out and walk toward me.

  And that moment was happening right now as a pair of headlights appeared on the street and turned into the parking lot. Great.

  I had a lollipop in my purse and pulled it out, sticking it in my mouth to make it look like I was on a smoke break. The car pulled all the way up to the doors. Someone was just about to check in.

  It was a total beater car. Mike the druid got out of the car, w
earing a cap with a pizza delivery logo on it. He grabbed a red bag and, with a heavy sigh, walked toward me.

  "Bird Goddess!" He stopped short of me. "What are you doing here?"

  "You got a job!" I said.

  Mike ducked his head. "Yeah. Heather needs stuff. Girlfriends are expensive."

  I was about to ask what stuff Heather needed, when an idea popped into my head. "What room is that going to?"

  The kid squinted at a piece of paper he pulled from his pocket. "Room 701. They already paid, which sucks because I won't get a tip."

  "Tell you what. I'm heading up to the seventh floor to visit a friend. So I'll give you $10 tomorrow if you let me deliver it."

  Mike smiled. "Okay!" He took the pizza out of the bag and gave it to me.

  "Give me your cap," I said. I'd need a disguise to get past the front desk.

  "For five more dollars," he said, his voice squeaking on the last word.

  These kids were seriously good at shaking me down. "You're kidding."

  "Nope. If I turn up at work without it, they'll take it out of my pay. And Heather needs…"

  "Stuff. I get it. Fine. I'll add five dollars. Now go."

  With one hand, I shoved the hat over my short curly hair and pulled the bill down low over my eyes. Then I walked in.

  "Oh, hey there!" the woman at the desk said with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader on PCP. "How are you tonight?"

  "Fine," I grumbled.

  "I can take that up for you," she offered.

  I got the impression that there wasn't much to do here.

  "No, thanks. Company policy. Only the deliverer and the buyer can touch the pizza. Legal issues."

  "Oh. Okay." She sounded disappointed.

  I didn't stop to chat. Once inside the elevator, I punched the button for the right floor and considered my next move. I really should've planned this out more. But then again, I was used to improvising. Improv is a spy's best skill. Thinking on my feet had saved my butt on more than one occasion.

  The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Room 701 was right across the hall. I walked over to the door and knocked.

  "Pizza!" I called out while looking down the hall toward the room I knew Bitsy was in.

 

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