by Mae Argilan
Glenn shrugged. "I can’t really say right now." She put her hands in her pockets. "Aw, no." She pulled out the gingerbread man, broken in two across the waistline.
"What’s that?"
Glenn laid the crippled man in Geoff’s hand. "Brianna gave it to me. Now he’s dead."
"I can fix him."
"It must have happened when I dove into the van."
"If this is all that happened, we got off cheap. You know, not bragging or anything, but I’m awfully good with my hands." His eyes lifted over her head. "I think that’s our ride."
A golf cart was coming toward them, driven by Dave.
"Sorry to make you wait, but I wanted to drive you, and I just got word on Lou. I don’t understand medic talk, but it sounds like he’s going to recover."
Geoff put his arms around Glenn. "How’s that glass of water looking now?"
She climbed into the back of the cart with Geoff. "How fast can you make this thing go?"
They drove through the honeycomb, traveling to the end of T-shaped tunnels and making quick turns. Glenn was lost within minutes. The one thing she knew was that they went further getting out than they did coming in.
She leaned over to Geoff. "We’re underground, aren’t we?"
He placed a finger against her lips. "All will be revealed."
When they stopped, Dave helped them into a black limousine with black windows. "Where do you want to go?"
"Good question," Glenn said. "What do you think? My house?"
"We should pick up my car first, then I can drive you to your house."
Dave said, "Your car is in the impound. We’ll repair it, and return it to you."
Glenn said. "We should go see Shane first. Don’t you think?"
"Shane Singleton’s house?" Geoff asked Dave. "In Bethesda?"
"I’ve got the coordinates," Dave said, and slammed the door.
It was a top-of-the-line limo with an entertainment center, and wet bar. Glenn checked the 4-ounce bottles, turning each over, and reading the labels. They were all of the soft variety. Geoff twisted the cap off a ginger ale, and handed it to her.
"Take it easy with this. It takes a little getting used to. Small sips, and you should be fine."
"Very funny."
"Wait a minute. Let me open mine, and we’ll toast. Let me think. To?"
"I know." She pointed her bottleneck at his. "To Robert Burns Duncan. Rest in Peace."
There was a barrier between them, and the driver, and they could see nothing out the windows. It was like being inside a cardboard box on wheels. They sat back, and sucked on their sodas.
"I wonder how long it will take to get there. Where are we anyway? You can tell me."
"I gave my word." He started laughing. "I’m a terrible liar. I can’t tell you because I don’t know."
"How could you not know? You were riding up front."
"I was blindfolded. He wanted me there in case we ran into anything, but in the meantime he made me wear these wrap-around shades. It was like this window glass. It looks like you should be able to see out of it, but you can’t. Some sort of space-age science."
"I thought he trusted you."
"I could have whipped the glasses off, but he trusted me not to do that. We made up that lie so in case you asked me—which I knew you would—I’d act like I couldn’t tell you. But, I can’t lie to you, even for a joke. I’m pathologically honest."
She wrapped her lips around the emerald bottle top, and swallowed. Then, she held it against her chin, and blew until she coaxed a flute sound from it.
"I wonder who it was. On the motorcycle."
Geoff shrugged. "Do you think he’s the one who killed Bleetz?"
"Or she."
"What?"
"He, or she. They were covered from head to toe in that suit."
"Yeah, it could have been a woman."
"Or, one of those guys we ran into in the alley. The one who cut you."
The limo came to a stop, and Glenn looked for a button to lower the screen to the driver. There wasn’t one, and in the process of looking for it, she realized the smoothly padded interior door panel had no handle or window crank, more like a squad car than a limo. The door beside Geoff opened, and Dave leaned inside.
"Thought you might like to have this back."
Glenn craned her neck forward. "My camera." Geoff ducked aside, as she threw herself across him. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Next stop, Bethesda." The door slammed with a solid sound.
Glenn pulled the bag onto her lap, and opened it. She handed Geoff the soft drink.
"Why the weird look?" she asked.
"I was just feeling left out, and a little jealous."
"Jealous? Of what?"
"That look of true love you gave your camera. How can you be so attached to an inanimate object?"
She frowned. "Aren’t you happy for me? I was afraid I’d never see it again."
"This means they were in my dorm room."
"We already knew that."
"And, now we know that they spent time there, searching it, going throughmy personal things. Who knows what else they removed?"
"All I want to do is make sure nothing is missing. You know? Nothing . You know. All the lenses, and film, andeverything . Forget it." She flipped the camera bag open, and went through every pouch, pocket, and zippered compartment. "Gone. The key."
"Oh." He nodded.
She lowered her voice. "The picture, too. See? Your things were not the only things violated. Probably confirms that we are well, and truly out of this. At least, they got what they wanted."
"They also got your insurance."
"Yeah, my policy has been canceled." She made a fist, and stamped the palm of her hand. "You aren’t really jealous, are you?"
"Of your camera? Why?"
"I don’t know," she said. "I had begun to think that you really were different."
"Different than what?"
"You know. Different. I’ve known guys who pretend my work is neat, and all that crap, but it’s just a line to get into my pants. They’re acting. But, not you. I mean, you didn’t even get impatient with me when I took your picture in the dorm."
"If you remember..."
"You were annoyed, but you didn’t pout, or make demands."
"Demands? Gosh, you sure do have a lot toun learn about men. I was a little taken aback by the shriek of euphoria. I’ve gotten used to you holding back your emotions. Maybe jealous is the wrong word."
"I mean, I’ll tell you right now, I won’t compromise my work. I’d die." She gathered the camera bag to her. "I’d shrivel up, and die."
He put his arm around her. "I understand that about you."
"I want to believe that."
She leaned into the pocket he made for her under his sleeve. He put his other arm around her, and she clutched his shirt.
"In case you forgot in all the excitement," he said. "I loveyou . Glenn Prentiss, Photographer."
"You mean, ‘girl’ photographer?"
"No, although I do think my heterosexuality is still intact. What do you think?"
"I think your sexuality is fine. At least, from where I’m sitting."
She let her thoughts wander back to the time when they were close. She let it flood over her, the images, and sense memory as it rushed through her body. Her mouth crawled up his neck. The car jerked to a stop. Geoff’s mouth hovered near her ear.
"Please tell me Shane has a bedroom."
"He has a darkroom. It’s very small. We’d have to stand up."
"News flash. Vertical is not a problem. Let’s ask Dave to circle the block."
"What if he doesn’t have a full tank of gas? If he went slowly, we could, too."
"If only we knew how long this was going to take." Geoff peered at the window glass trying to see something. "Maybe we’re stuck in traffic."
"I don’t think so. His engine is off. Mine, however, is still racing." She fanned herself.
&
nbsp; "I can take care of that for you soon as I get you to my service station. ‘Course, if he doesn’t get back here soon I might have to pop your hood right here."
The door opened. But, before either of them could blink, a woman got in beside Geoff, and smiled.
"I’ve been assigned to take you the rest of the way," she said.
"Will it be much longer?" Geoff asked.
Glenn was wary, the way one woman sometimes instinctively is of another. It was irrational, and Glenn tried to overcome it.
"Where’s Dave?" she asked.
"Dave was called away."
The woman smiled. It was a disgustingly pretty smile.
Geoff said, "I hope nothing happened to Lou?"
"Lou? Oh, Lou."
Glenn asked, "Was he called back because something happened to Lou?"
"You all are on such friendly terms," the woman said. "Since you already know that much, I guess it won’t hurt to tell you." She put on a pleasant kindergarten teacher expression. "I’m afraid Lou has taken a turn for the worse."
She’s lying. It was another irrational thought, and Glenn fought to suppress it. "Then will you be driving us home?"
The woman looked closely at Geoff, and asked, "Can I get you anything?"
Now she reminded Glenn of a flight attendant. Fly me . Geoff shook his head.
Glenn said, "We decided not to go to Bethesda, we want to go to my apartment." Fly some other guy .
"We’ll be there in no time."
Glenn couldn’t get the words out of her head now that they were there. I’m Bambi, fly me . She made another stab at being polite.
"And, your name is?" she asked, offering her hand in a gentlemanly gesture.
The woman shook it, and then shook Geoff’s hand as almost an afterthought.
"Cozzoli," she said, backing out the door. "Agent Cozzoli."
The door slammed shut.
"She’s lying," Geoff said.
Glenn looked at him. "What makes you say that?"
He shrugged. "Her eyes. She made too big a point of looking directly at me. And, trust me. They’re even more shuttered than yours."
"Is that why you were looking so closely at them?"
"What other reason could I have?"
"Some men might think she has pretty brown eyes."
"Those men are not in love with green eyes. Which are looking particularly green right now. Who’s jealous now?"
Glenn batted his insinuation away like a gnat. "I knew she was lying, too."
"What made you suspect?"
"I’d say ‘woman’s intuition’, but I’m not that kind of girl. It was when we asked about Lou. She had no idea what we were talking about. Besides, didn’t Dave say he was going to pull through?"
"Speaking of Dave, didn’t he sayhe was taking us to Bethesda?"
"And, wouldn’t he have said something to us before leaving?"
Geoff pinched his lips together. "Yeah, maybe. So, that leaves the question, who’s the wench up front?"
"And, why are we letting her drive us around?" Glenn fingered the latch on her camera case. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Why should I do anything about it? I’m just along for the ride."
"Youare the man. The man is supposed to do something."
Geoff grinned. "You’re not serious."
"Don’t do that thing with your eyebrows."
"What thing?"
"Stop it." Glenn returned to the camera case. "I don’t want to talk about it."
"Force yourself."
Geoff turned toward her with that determined expression she’d come to respect.
"Remember what you asked me? After meeting with Mr. Knight?"
"You know him, don’t you?"
"How could you tell?" she asked.
"I’ve seen you shot at, chased, and with the corpse of your ex-boyfriend, but I’ve never seen you turn pale and faint."
"I’ve seen that man once in my life."
She bit her lip, and looked at her hands. They trembled a little so she hid them in the folds of her coat.
"Seeing him brought it all back in a rush. It was when Bobby died."
Geoff’s eyes widened. "You don’t mean that guy had something to do with my brother’s death?"
"It was afterward. A man appeared in the café, and took charge of the situation. I guess, now I know why. He said things to me about being a photographer, and tried to keep me from leaving."
"What did you do?"
Her lips screwed into a smile. "I took his picture, of course."
Geoff laughed out loud. "Of course, you did. I would have paid real money to see that."
"No, you wouldn’t." She stopped smiling. "I never knew how the AFIB found out who I was. After I filed the photos I assumed it had something to do with my credentials. But, I was freelancing. I wasn’t on any manifest, didn’t have an official press pass."
"Somebody must have given them your name."
"That’s what I told myself. But, they tracked me down pretty quickly at my hotel."
"You thought you were anonymous. But, the guy you happened to run into was a Commander for the CIA. And, he notified the AFIB, and they tracked you down."
"Let me ask you a question. Have you ever in your lifeheard of the AFIB?" she asked.
"No, but I don’t exactly keep up with government initials."
"But, when I asked about it, you all told me you never got a visit from any of their representatives."
"Just the two officers who showed up to give us the bad news," Geoff said.
"What if thereis no AFIB? What if it’s a fictitious smoke screen made up by the CIA?"
"If they don’t exist, it’s been the CIA who’s after you."
"Or, let’s say Commander Knight sics his spooks on me. The AFIB comes in, and claims jurisdiction, seeing that servicemen are involved. Knight backs off. At least, to all appearances. They’re satisfied that I’m innocent. But, when I get back to the States, Knight sends his agents to question me."
"Because he doesn’t trust the AFIB?" Geoff nodded. "I don’t know, but they did drop their cover to bring you in out of the cold."
Glenn thought about it. "That must be what happened. Something went screwy, and Justin Knight needed me to get to the bottom of it."
"What made you remember him?"
"His eyebrows. I dream about them, they become tentacles that reach out for me. You don’t suppose that’s what they were after? The photo I took of Justin Knight?"
"Maybe that’s what they took out of your apartment. Maybe that’s why he was so cool. Because he knows you don’t have his photograph, because he burgled it."
"Except…I left the negatives with Shane." Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes. "I knew the glass was half empty. I justknew it!"
21
Justin Knight drew his weapon, and nodded. The key was fit into the lock, and the door opened. Two agents moved inside. The Commander followed, and made a sweep of the dining room. He gestured to his men to go down the hall, and the three of them burst through the bedroom door.
There’s a kind of disquiet that inhabits a place where violence has been done. Justin Knight recognized it here. It was as if the air molecules hung in disarray and confusion, like children who needed comforting. He sensed it very strongly, and kept his weapon drawn.
The bed was stripped of the sheets. Knight examined the bare mattress, then straightened up. He had a wire wrapped around his neck, which anchored a pair of discs to the base of his larynx. He put two fingers on either side of his throat.
"We need forensics up here. Stand by. Over." He put a finger to a plastic ear-piece. "Check all dumpsters in a one block radius." He listened, then spoke again. "Sheets. Bed sheets. Out."
Justin Knight walked to the closet. He waited for an agent to train his weapon, then pulled the handle of the louvered door. Heaped in the middle of the closet floor was something so white, at first he thought it was the sheets. Then, his hand went to his
larynx microphone.
"We need a medic." He holstered his weapon, and reached into the closet.
Eric Pippin lay stark and still, facing the back of the closet. Justin felt Pip’s throat for a pulse. Life fluttered like butterfly wings against Justin’s fingertips, and he examined the body for bullet holes. There weren’t any. He stretched out the arms looking for punctures. Nothing. He ran his hands under Pips corn silk hair probing for contusions, or abrasions.
"Aw, Pip, what in God’s name did she do to you?"
"Poison?" an agent asked.
"No sign of injection."
"Under his nails?"
"Not without a magnifying glass. I’m going to turn him over."
"Careful, Sir. He could be booby-trapped."
Justin nodded grimly, and eased Pip onto his back. There was a smudge on his alabaster skin. A darkened area on the ribcage just under the heart. Knight pressed it lightly, and watched it change colors.
"Hang on, Son." He sat back on his heels, and took Pip’s hand. "He was cuffed. Ligature mark on the wrist."
"What happened to him, Chief?"
"There’s a scorch mark on his skin," Justin said.
"Here comes the medtech."
Justin moved out of the way of a young man in starched shirt and pants. "I think its electric shock," Justin said. "There’s a burn mark on his left side there."
"Uh-huh. What do you think caused it?"
Justin put his hands on his hips. "I’d bet even money it was a taser."
"We’ll take it from here."
Justin turned his back. "First, see if you can bring him around."
"That might be dangerous. If his heart sustained an electric shock, pumping adrenaline into him could cause him to seize."
"Can’t be helped. I have to talk to him. Right away."
"I’ll give him 2 cc’s, but if that doesn’t do it…" The medtech paused, and let the implication speak for itself.
"Change places with me," Glenn said. "It’ll take her by surprise, and in the split second it takes for her to recover, I’ll jump out of the car."
"And, do what?" Geoff asked.
"Run away. When she chases me, you’ll have your chance to get out."
"Unless she closes the door, in which case I’m still trapped. You see, this is the reason theman has traditionally been the one to do the thinking."