“Can’t we get two rooms?” I asked, hoping for time to be alone. My mind hadn’t had a chance to rest since I left Roanoke because of Hettie’s close proximity.
“No, I’m sorry. Funds are very limited right now. I promise I’ll try not to snore again.”
“You don’t snore that badly,” I lied. “Besides, I think that my snoring will probably cancel out yours.” I knew I didn’t snore, but there was no reason to make her feel bad.
“Nice try, kid,” she responded as she unlocked the hotel room door on the ground floor.
I was hoping for a room with a view, but Hettie had insisted on a room as close to the parking lot as possible, in case we had to make a run for it. God, I am so tired of being on the run all the time. The room was the standard hotel room with two queen-sized beds, a much nicer television set than in the motel room, and a larger table by the window that faced out into the parking lot.
Since we were staying for a couple of days, I set up Bubble’s litter box in the bathroom and put out her food and water dish on the split-level desk/television stand. I took her leash off and hung it on the door knob, but left her harness on, just in case. With that chore done, I grabbed the supplies and changed Hettie’s bandages, surprisingly, without much fanfare from her. She must had been as tired as I was.
Finally, I collapsed on the bed.
Chapter Seventeen
U.S. Marshal Hettie Quinn
Connie was so adorable when she slept. The way her little hands were tucked up under her chin. Even her silent snoring was cute, with her lip shuddering as she exhaled. Damn it. I was doing it again. Losing control. When she helped me with the seatbelt that second time, I didn’t really need help. I just wanted to be close to her. The problem was that it wasn’t sexual this time. It wasn’t really sexual the first time, either. I just didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t protect Connie if I was romantically involved with her. Not that she would let me anyway. I just wished I had thought all of that through before telling her we couldn’t afford two rooms. I had plenty of money on me between Dad’s loan and what Krauss had allotted me before we left Roanoke. For a magnitude of reasons, I just felt better having Connie in the same room.
Shaking my head, I got down to business. Picking up my duffel bag, I walked over to the table and sat down. Then I took out my cell phone and called a number from memory.
“Angie, it’s me, Hettie. Have you got a minute? … Yeah, it’s been a while. Can you meet me for dinner at the Holiday Inn on Wilkinson Trace, say in an hour? … This is business, Angie. I need your help. … Thank you, see you in a little while.”
Ending the call and putting the phone to the side, I focused my attention on the laptop. Pulling it out of my duffel bag, I opened the monitor and checked that the Internet connection was disabled. Then I inserted the memory card. I paused a moment, mesmerized by Connie’s wedding picture. What was that like, being married to the love of your life? I’d never wanted that life before, but I could see how her love for Meredith was much more powerful than her grief. I want a woman who would love me like that.
Shaking off the wishful thinking, knowing it was a sand trap I would only sink deeper in, I clicked on the folder and pulled up a file.
“Jackpot!
“No, Hettie, don’t let them take me!” Connie screamed.
I looked up and realized, she was having a nightmare. I jumped up and rushed to the side of her bed.
“It’s okay, kid. I’m here. You’re safe.”
“No,” she murmured.
I gently lifted her up and sat on the side of the bed with her in my arms. Rocking her softly, I whispered in her ear, “You’re safe, Connie. I’ll keep you safe.”
She snuggled closer, as if she were cold, and I held her tighter. After a few minutes, I could tell from her breathing that she had gotten past the nightmare and was sleeping peacefully. The poor kid had to be exhausted, both mentally and physically. As much as I wanted to examine those files, I didn’t want the moment to end. The first time I held her, my only concern was getting her on that helicopter and out of harm’s way. This time, it was different. To hold a woman in my arms where I didn’t have to get her drunk first or pay for the privilege was unique, and… very fulfilling. I guessed this really wasn’t much different, since Connie was unaware that she was in my lap, and I knew when she woke up, she would be mad at me. Still, it was totally worth it. Her nightmare alone justified sharing the same room.
After another minute or two, I kissed her head, then picked her up and laid her back on the bed. Bubbles, who had been watching me the whole time, curled up beside Connie and began purring. It was a perfect sight.
I went back to the table and sat down in front of the laptop again. The folder was named honeymoon, but that wasn’t what I found inside. I found two sets of books. Pictures of a handwritten ledger with numbers and dollar signs. I may have been terrible at accounting, but it didn’t take a genius to read between the lines on this. Especially when it was spelled out in the notes. There were banking numbers for inactive accounts and the amount ciphered off, unauthorized transfers between general ledger accounts, and non-existent or dead employees payroll fraud.
“Oh, my God!”
“What’s the matter?” Connie asked drowsily.
“Nothing, go back to sleep,” I ordered. I needed time to understand what I had just read.
“No, tell me,” she persisted, sitting up and knocking the cat over. “Oh, sorry, Bubbles.”
The cat twitched its tail indignantly and jumped over to my bed. Great, now I’ll be sneezing all night.
Connie stood up and walked over to the table. “Did you find something?”
“Yes, and you might want to sit down for this.”
“Oh… okay.” She pulled the chair over and sat on my right.
“I’m not sure what this means, but it looks like they kept paying into Meredith’s account after she was killed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It appears that they kept her on the payroll after she died.”
“No, I would have known. Meredith and I had joint accounts with automatic deposits. I would have known if she were still being paid.”
Shaking my head, I replied, “Not if they transferred it to a new account at a different bank.”
“Oh, no,” Connie exclaimed, her eyes growing large as realization sat in. “Why? Why would they do that?”
“Now, I’m just theorizing here, but maybe Meredith wasn’t killed in a botched robbery after all. Maybe she stumbled onto the fraud, and they found out about it.”
She had probably gone to Connie’s father and that’s how he ended up dead, also. But theorizing was not actual fact, and I wasn’t going to add to Connie’s burden with my assumptions. Besides, a photograph of a ledger wasn’t enough to make a case. I needed the actual ledger itself, and I knew that would be harder to come by. This card was supposedly three out of three, yet I was positive that Yarbrough had more to say, I just had to figure out what that was.
Connie wiped away a tear from her cheek. “Shouldn’t we tell someone?”
“We will, but not before I find out who the mole is who’s chasing us.”
“Your friend can help with that, right?”
“Right. I called her while you were sleeping, and she agreed to meet us here for dinner.”
“That’s encouraging… um, isn’t it?”
“Yes, very encouraging considering how we left things.”
She perked up. “Oh?”
“If you want to take a shower before dinner, you’d better get in there.”
“Okay, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it. Now I really can’t wait to meet her.”
“Yeah, yeah. Very funny. I’m going to jump in the shower if you’re not using it.”
She swatted my arm playfully. “I’m using it. I’m using it.”
“Good. And while you’re showering, I’m going down to the hotel business center and print out some stuff, so loc
k and bolt the door behind me, okay? And don’t let anyone in unless it’s me, understand?”
“Better than anybody I know.”
I did a double take. “Yeah, I guess you would.”
*
“Thanks for coming, Angie. This is Amanda Sanders, Mandy, this is U.S. Marshal Angela Taylor.”
Connie looked at me curiously but then flawlessly held out her small hand and shook Angie’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Deputy Marshal Taylor.”
I was so proud of Connie. There was a moment, when she looked down at the floor, that I thought she was going to retreat into herself again. I’d noticed that she had to force herself to speak to strangers and she seemed to be more comfortable doing so if someone she knew was around.
“Please, call me Angie,” Angie replied, shaking Connie’s hand. Dressed in khakis, a tucked-in white shirt, and a dark blue jacket, she thankfully was not wearing her badge in plain sight. Her standard-issued Glock .40 S&W caliber pistol was hidden under her jacket. Angie and I could have been twins, the way we were both dressed. Time to buy different clothes.
“And please, call me… Mandy.” Connie looked at me mischievously. I winked at her.
“Ma’am, would you like a drink?” the waitress asked.
Connie and I had already ordered our drinks but held off on the menu until Angie arrived. I was beginning to wonder if she was going to show or not. The restaurant was small, but we were the only people in there at that late hour. Angie sat across from me and looked from me to Connie. Was she jealous? She was the one who broke it off, so she didn’t have a right to be. Angie was beautiful; no denying that. With her raven-black hair, high cheekbones, and thin nose, she had the classic Hollywood-type look. What drew me to her initially, other than the fact that she asked me out, was that she didn’t use her looks to get what she wanted. She used her intelligence. That was a rare commodity in this day and age.
We enjoyed casual chit-chat as we ate our meal, and I notice that Connie was listening intently, but she wasn’t saying much. Of course, with Angie, it was hard to get a word in edge wise sometimes. Angie was a talker and loved to carry the conversation if given the opportunity. It wasn’t a bad thing, really. She just didn’t like awkward silences.
“Okay, so tell me what’s going on,” Angie requested, pushing her plate away after her last bite.
I wiped my mouth with a paper napkin. “Someone is pinging my laptop when I get online and I need you to find out who that is.”
She glanced at Connie as she picked up her glass of tea and took a sip. “Is this an official request?”
“Yes and no,” I answered. “It has to do with a case I’m working, but I need to keep it confidential between you and me, until I learn who’s behind it.”
She set her glass down and studied me a moment. “You think it’s one of us, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do.”
She waited, but when I didn’t offer more of an explanation, she looked at Connie again. “So, is she a sex offender?”
Connie blushed bright red, her eyebrows arched, her lips pursed.
“Or have you switched to the dark side?” Angie asked, glaring at me again. “I can tell by the way you’re acting that you’re either in love with her or protecting her from something. Or maybe a little bit of both.”
I chuckled nervously. I think maybe a little of both. “She is my protectee and whoever is after her is working in collusion with a U.S. Marshal. I’m just not sure how high up it goes.”
“You know I can’t go after them without a search warrant.”
“I know that. I’m not asking you to go after a person, I’m asking you to latch onto the ping on my laptop and trace it back to its originator.”
She shrugged. “It’s a fine line, but I can work with that.”
“Angie, you should know that they’ve already tried to capture Mandy twice and kill me once, so don’t leave any digital fingerprints that could implicate you, okay?”
“Aw, you still care,” she wisecracked.
“I’m serious, Angie. Be careful.”
“You know me better than that, Hettie. I’m always careful with my work. Just not so much with my personal life.”
Oh, God. Don’t go there. “I know you’re the best there is. That’s why I came to you. If you’re finished eating, we can go back to our room and get the laptop.”
“Don’t I get dessert first?” she asked playfully.
I glanced at Connie, wondering what she was thinking about the conversation. She hadn’t said anything in the last few minutes, not even when Angie smarted off about her being a sex offender. Connie gave me a sweet smile and nodded.
“All right then. Let’s have dessert first,” I declared, waving the waitress over.
Twenty minutes later, just as they were closing the metal security gate indicating they were closed, the three of us left the restaurant and walked down the hall to our hotel room. I unlocked the door and let Angie go in first, then Connie and myself. Bubbles had not moved from my pillow since we went down for dinner. Jeez, I’ll have to call housekeeping and ask for another pillow.
“I thought you were allergic to cats?” Angie asked.
“How do you know that was my bed?” I challenged her.
“Because it’s not made and that one is,” she shot back.
I looked over at Connie and she had her hand over her mouth, hiding a snicker. “Et tu, Brutus?”
“Liberty, freedom,” Connie said, raising her fist.
“And enfranchisement!” I concluded.
“Oh, my, gosh. You know Shakespeare?” Connie asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“Yeah, high school English lit,” I replied, taking a step closer to her. “I actually enjoyed Shakespeare, but then we had to read the Lord of the Flies and I almost flunked out. Luckily, I don’t remember much about that book, just that I hated it.”
“When you are her age,” Angie cut in, “the memory is the first to go.”
“Ha, ha. I’m not Grandma Moses yet,” I protested.
I may have felt like I was, but I’d learned in my old age that if you don’t deny it, your younger colleagues will have you in a wheelchair on oxygen next. Angie was four years younger than me, but she might as well have been Connie’s age the way she kidded me about how old I was.
“Age is a number,” Connie spoke up as she scratched the cat’s chin. “Hettie’s heart may be wise, but her mind is young and feisty.”
My mouth gaped open as I looked at Connie with new appreciation. She was taking up for me and I liked it.
Angie turned and stared at me. “I believe you may be correct, Mandy.”
“Uh, thanks,” I stammered, then turned to Angie. “Let me get that laptop for you.”
I walked over to the table and ejected the memory card, then unplugged it and handed it to her.
“Okay, I can take a hint,” she said, taking the laptop and holding it like a schoolbook.
I wasn’t insinuating that she should leave, but that’s what she thought I was saying.
“Walk me to the elevator?” she asked.
“We’re on the first floor,” I reminded her. “But I’ll walk you out, just the same. Amanda, please lock the door behind me, I won’t be but a minute. Don’t let anyone in unless it’s me, okay?”
Connie nodded and Angie and I walked into the hallway.
I waited until I heard the door lock before proceeding farther. Then I walked as far as the end of the hallway, which emptied out into the front lobby. I wasn’t going any farther in case Connie needed me. There was a family of three at the counter checking in and housekeeping pushing their cart into the elevator. Other than that, Angie and I were alone.
“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Angie asked, ambushing me.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“I see how you look at her. How you sneak glances when you think she isn’t looking. How you allow the cat to sleep on your bed. Only someone in love would do
that.”
“Listen, Ang. You’ve got it all wrong. She’s my protectee, and I’ve sworn an oath to keep her safe.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
“You’re not jealous, are you, Angie?”
“Hell, yeah, I’m jealous,” she shot back. “You never looked at me that way.”
“I could say the same about you.” I paused for a moment, curbing my emotions. “It just didn’t work out for us, Ang, but we’re still friends, aren’t we? I’d give you the shirt off my back, if you asked me for it.”
“I know that. The problem was that I didn’t want your shirt. I wanted what was underneath it. Your wise heart.”
“Well, damn. Here, I thought for sure you were going to say my breasts,” I joked, trying to derail the conversation. I only made it worse.
“It was a package deal, dumbass,” she snapped back.
“You’re the one who left me,” I countered. “Remember?”
“Because you were emotionally indifferent.”
She was right. I was detached in our relationship, and I just now understand the reason why. Angie and I were too much alike, and she didn’t need me. She proved it when she left me.
“Look, can you still work with me or not?”
“Of course. I’m a professional,” she snapped and sauntered off, her insult ringing in my ears.
Chapter Eighteen
Amanda Sanders (Connie Yarbrough-Morrison)
Hettie winked at me as she closed the door, and I felt butterflies in my stomach. I walked over and locked the door, then put my ear to it, trying to hear what they were saying. Childish, I knew, but I was curious what Angie wanted to talk with Hettie about. Was it me? Or was she interested in getting back together with Hettie? Oh, I hope it’s me they were talking about. I had to admit, there was a pang of jealousy eating away at my heart.
I walked over to Hettie’s bed and scooped up Bubbles. “So, what did you think of the ex-girlfriend, Bubbles?” She meowed at me as if to say she didn’t think much of her. “I agree. I mean, she seemed nice enough, but I didn’t like the way she was treating Hettie. They obviously have some unresolved issues, and I can’t help but wonder if that will help me or hurt me in the long run. Know what I mean, Bubbles?”
Oil & Vinegar Page 13