The Enigma Series Boxed Set

by Tierney James

  Chase glanced at Zoric’s and raised his chin. “Probably not. Maybe you two can chat about those possibilities later.” He couldn’t resist a sinister smirk.

  “Did you take his leash off with Reeva Kaplan?”

  “Meaning?”

  Agent Martin took a couple of photos of a woman from inside his coat pocket.

  Carter reached for the photos and grimaced then shared them with the group. The image of a familiar woman lying on a tile bathroom floor, her body covered in blood stuck with him, though. “Reeva Kaplan.”

  “Wrists were slit, nice and neat.” The agent stared at Zoric peering at the photos before passing them along to the others. “She wasn’t in this guy’s room, either.” He nodded at the image of Robert on the monitor. “Was in a room at the opposite end of the hall.” Sam handed the pictures back to him, and the team once again faced their screens as if the agent no longer existed.

  Chase slowly shook his head. “We didn’t do this. She was bound and gagged in numbskull’s room. Someone was coming off the elevators at the opposite end when we made our exit. What about his stuff? Did you get it?”

  “Of course, we got it and wiped down the room, like you asked. I understand your hacker”—he faced Vernon— “removed him from the guest list. All nice and neat, if you ask me.”

  “It’s what we do, Agent Martin.” Tempted to call him by his first name again, Chase thought better of it since he wasn’t finished with him yet. “So, I need you to go in there and find out why the honorable Robert Scott was meeting with a character like Reeva Kaplan.”

  “Sure it wasn’t for a little slap and tickle? She had a reputation for roughness in the bedroom. Maybe Robert wasn’t getting any at home, if you know what I mean. Heard the wife likes the bad boys.”

  Carter and Vernon stood up at the same time, their nostrils flaring, hands closed into fists.

  Chase shifted his eyes from one to the other.

  “I don’t think they like your insinuation, Agent Martin.”

  The agent’s lips twisted in a half grin. “A little touchy about Tessa Scott, are we, boys? No disrespect intended. She’s a nice lady and did a heck of a job for President Austin. Relax. I didn’t know she was back in the field so soon after Afghanistan is all.”

  “Long story. Let’s get this over with.”

  Chase didn’t want to talk about Afghanistan and Tessa Scott in the same conversation. He’d nearly lost her forever thanks to a drug-running scumbag who’d tricked her into believing he was some kind of knight in shining armor. The whole scenario still caused his hair to stand up on the back of his neck.

  “You all really are thicker than thieves, aren’t you?” Agent Martin groaned as he lifted his body out of the chair then pushed it under another desk. He straightened it before walking toward the door. “You owe me for this one. And don’t call me again to clean up after the wild bunch.” He raised his chin at the other Enigma team members watching him with suspicion.

  ~~~

  “They’re asleep.” Tessa rubbed her face, fighting fatigue as she watched the hulk of a man wearing an apron too small for his girth.

  Handsome continued to stir something in a Crock-Pot. “Cooked these beans to mush. Want some?”

  “Maybe some of the cornbread. My granny made the best cornbread, and mine has the consistency of cement.”

  He pointed to a pan on the stove. “Help yourself.”

  “You work for Enigma, huh?”

  “Not exactly,” he said with a flippant disregard tone.

  Tessa picked up a piece of cornbread. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I owe them a couple of favors, this being one of them.”

  The only light in the small house came from an LED lantern the size of a flashlight, sitting on the kitchen counter next to the Crock-Pot. After scooping up a bowl of beans, he pried a piece of cornbread from the iron skillet and joined Tessa at the table. He didn’t appear to be interested in conversation as he ate with the finesse of a trained chef savoring each bite.

  When he finished, Tessa stood. “You fed my kids, so I’ll do the dishes. Okay?”

  The chair creaked under his large frame when he sat up straight then dabbed a napkin at his mouth like he’d eaten at a five-star restaurant. “Thank you.”

  Tessa wanted to make sure her new friend had enough time to let his supper settle before she started the barrage of questions again. She took great pains in wiping down the sink then folding the towels across the lip of the counter before joining Handsome at the table again.

  “Those men. Do you know who they were?”

  “No.” His calm voice unnerved her.

  “Can they find us?”

  “Not if we stay off-line and shut down your phone.” He took a deep breath and pulled himself up by grabbing the edge of the table. “Where is your phone?”

  Tessa retrieved her purse from a worn chair inside the living room and dug some of the contents out, dropping the makeup bag and checkbook and a thumb-size flashlight, on the floor, only to be snatched up by the man who followed close behind.

  “It’s not here. I could have sworn—”

  He moved into the darkness where the children slept.

  “What are you doing? Stop,” she ordered as he lifted blankets and shone the flashlight over Heather who cuddled her pillow like a favorite stuffed animal. He moved to Daniel next.

  “It probably fell out somewhere in here when we rushed inside.” She touched his arm in hopes of stopping his suspicion. “My children would never—”

  Handsome reached down and lifted a phone from the floor next to her oldest son. He tossed her the flashlight and scrolled through her network. In a few seconds, he stopped, read something then showed Tessa.

  Dad! Mom & us are in trouble. Can’t leave Tahoe. Danger. Help us.

  “Oh. My. Gosh,” she gasped as her hand flew to her mouth.

  It was then she heard the sound of crunching snow outside the cabin.

  Chapter 6

  A gent Martin adjusted the earwig again before entering the room to confront Robert Scott. Captain Hunter would evaluate every word, sigh, eye roll, and mouth twitch of this man. Chances were good he’d written a list of questions to whisper into his earwig during the interrogation. Being called in to clean up an Enigma mess topped the list of things he disliked. If his superiors knew about the extent of his involvement with the secret security force, he’d be out of a job, pension, and a career. Even though Director Benjamin Clark promised to protect him if it ever came to that, he doubted the truth of it. Enigma was whispered in the halls of Langley and Homeland Security. If the Justice Department got wind of what they really did for the president, all hell would break loose. He’d once mentioned his concerns to the captain. The smirk he received in reply still gave him chills.

  “Hell would be the least of anyone’s worries if someone tries to stop us. Besides, you’re in over your head, so why not enjoy it? Nobody will touch you as long as you’re in the director’s good graces. Oh, and the president’s, of course.” Chase downed a whiskey, his eyes the color of obsidian. “You’ll hardly ever know we’re around. And when you do—stay out of the way.”

  Staying out of the way became his mission in life, until tonight.

  He pushed into the room that smelled of coffee and disinfectant then switched off one of the pair of glaring fluorescent lights as Robert Scott rose from the side of his bed.

  He reminded him of a pathetic guy caught in a life-changing event. His bloodshot eyes widened once the light dimmed. He needed a shave, and his bed hair showed some early signs of graying. Rumpled clothing hung from his frame.

  “Agent Martin. FBI.” He stuck out his hand, surprised at the man’s firm grip. His father measured a man by his handshake. In this instance, his dad would have said Robert had a Baptist grip—not a bad thing. “Please. Sit down, sir.” It paid to be polite.

  “I don’t understand. What is going on? I haven’t done anything wrong. Where is Reeva?”

&
nbsp; Agent Martin laid his black file folder on the table as if it were a day-old baby. He folded his hands on top before cocking his head in faux concern. “What do you think is going on, Mr. Scott?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “No idea. One minute, I was cleaning myself up from the coffee Reeva spilled on me then—”

  “She spilled coffee on you?”

  “Yes. There was still some in the pot I made earlier. You know those little ones you find in hotels.” The agent nodded. “I forgot to drink it until she arrived. She wanted a cup. Thankfully, it was a couple hours old, or I would have been scalded.”

  Agent Martin heard a whispered question in his ear. “What happened?”

  “She tripped? I don’t know. When she ran into the bathroom for a towel then patted me down, it got a little weird, if you know what I mean.”

  “Why don’t you explain it to me, Mr. Scott?”

  “I took the towel from her and backed into the bathroom to change my shirt. She kept talking to me as I washed the coffee out and used the blow-dryer on my pants. I turned the shower on to get the rinse stains out of my shirt. I hadn’t brought another shirt into the bathroom, so I planned to slip out and grab one from my suitcase. It was a little embarrassing. I realized as I came out that Reeva wasn’t talking anymore. Next thing I knew, a bunch of thugs were manhandling me, and poor Reeva was all tied up with tape over her mouth. Her blouse was unbuttoned. I’m not sure if they…” He shook his head and lowered his face into his hands. “Terrifying.”

  “How many times have you met Reeva in this manner?”

  Robert jerked his head up and pointed a finger at him. “Wait a minute. I see where this is headed. It’s not like that.”

  “Like what, Mr. Scott?” This would be where the agitated sap tripped himself up and spilled his guts. He’d seen it before, too many times to count.

  “You think I was having an affair,” he snapped.

  “Were you?”

  “No,” he yelled. “Reeva was a client.”

  “Another name for hooker.”

  “No,” he insisted, sounding on the brink of tears. “No.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m a lawyer. She came to my firm. Wanted some work done concerning international and commercial law. They recommended me. Said I had a reputation. I was at this conference, so she drove down from Sacramento to meet me.”

  “And this pleased you?”

  “Yes. I was flattered. I don’t usually get such a high-profile case.”

  “What did she want?”

  “Something to do with a diamond mine in South Africa, maybe some other country. Originally, we were going to meet the next day, but she called to say she was flying out in the morning, and could we meet for dinner to get better acquainted.”

  “Convenient.”

  “What does that mean? You think I’m lying? I’m not. I’m happily married.”

  “Really? Because”—he opened his folder and glanced over some paperwork in the file before closing it again— “I understand you and a Ms. Honey Lynch shared some quality time at Lake Tahoe a couple of years ago.”

  Robert banged his fist on the table. “She was undercover as a park ranger. Besides, you know perfectly well she was working with you.”

  “I assure you, Mr. Scott, she was not working for us.” Robert’s going pale gave him immense satisfaction. Of course, he did know of Ms. Lynch, and she didn’t work for the FBI. She was a contract killer who liked to play both sides of the law, another friend of Chase Hunter and Enigma. Even so, this was the part he enjoyed, crushing the suspect into confession.

  “I don’t understand. I was told she worked for the FBI.” The man’s forehead pinched over his nicely trimmed eyebrows and perfect nose.

  “We’re getting off topic, Mr. Scott.” He paused to make eye contact with Tessa’s husband. “Why did Reeva Kaplan come to your room?”

  The man squirmed. “We had dinner. Talk drifted to the diamond business. It sounded like she wanted a little more protection for her investments.”

  “The Treasury Department fondly refers to these kinds of deals as money laundering.”

  “Money laundering.” He choked. “No. It wasn’t some kind of shady deal. Or at least we didn’t discuss things in depth. She said she wanted to meet me and make sure I would be easy to work with before she decided on the firm representing her interests. Then we had dinner.”

  “So, dessert was to be served in your room?”

  “You listen here. I don’t like what you’re implying.” The agent locked his fingers together on top of the folder, glaring at Robert Scott. A drop of perspiration formed where his sideburns should have been. “I told Reeva I wanted to surprise my wife with some diamond earrings for Christmas.” Robert stuck his index finger beneath his collar and pretended to loosen it. Another indication of guilt.

  “Christmas?”

  “I know it’s months away, but I thought it would give me plenty of time to pay for them. Besides she said she could make me a really good deal. She actually had some samples with her. She didn’t want to take them on the plane because of something about having to explain things in customs or too much trouble. These were the only ones she had left after visiting several jewelers’ conventions.”

  When the agent chuckled at the remarks going on in his earwig from Chase’s team, Robert rubbed his throat where a bruise showed. No doubt from an unhappy captain who had the reputation for being a little overprotective of Tessa Scott.

  “And you saw the diamonds?”

  “Yes. Then everything went sideways. She was coming on to me, or I thought she was. I’m not sure. I got nervous. She spilled coffee, and I escaped to the bathroom. When I came out, a bunch of thugs were in the room. One of them spoke with an accent like Reeva’s. The others didn’t say anything. They seemed surprised to see me. One of them hit me upside my head.” He touched the bruise near his temple then dropped his hand to the table.

  More chatter in Agent Martin’s earwig. Their dry sense of humor, although inappropriate, managed to amuse him.

  “Does anyone know about Reeva? Is she okay? She can verify all of this. Do I need a lawyer?”

  “You tell me, Mr. Scott.” The agent opened the folder again, and pulled out the picture of Reeva covered in blood on a bathroom floor then shoved it across the table.

  After only a glance, Robert jumped up so fast his chair flipped over. “Good, lord!” he moaned as he backed up and fell onto the bed. “What happened? Lord. She was fine when we left.”

  “Yes.” He pulled the picture back with one finger then examined it as if he’d not seen it earlier. “Lucky for you, she wasn’t found in your room.”

  Robert wiped his face, dotted with perspiration, on the sleeve of his white shirt. “Who could do this?”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. It was a cruel gesture, considering the gravity of the situation. “We’re looking into it.” Another one of those phrases that tended to drive suspects and victims to the brink of despair. “Didn’t find any diamonds. Unless you purchased a few, I guess they were stolen.”

  “Those thugs must have gone back to finish the job.”

  “Maybe. But unlikely.”

  “I had nothing to do with her death, Agent Martin. I swear.”

  He paused to listen to the Enigma team mocking Robert with whining voices, except for Chase who remained strangely quiet with only an occasional question. With a glance at the wall clock, he realized dawn grew near. Time to wrap up.

  “Do you know how you got here, Mr. Scott?”

  “How could I? Those thugs bound and gagged me. We rode for a while. I don’t know how long. I heard a railroad crossing guard signal, horns blowing, and a couple of dogs barking when we stopped. Next thing I knew, I ended up in this room. The big guy with the accent shoved me down on the bed and held a gun to my head. If he works for you—”

  “He doesn’t, Mr. Scott. I don’t know who brought you here. The FBI got a call about Reeva and this pl
ace. Seems to me someone wanted to make sure you were found safe and sound. As to the gun to your head—we don’t operate like hooligans.” He spoke slowly, adding a hint of disdain to let Enigma understand he disapproved of their tactics.

  “So, you believe me? I can go?”

  “I believe you were duped, Mr. Scott. I don’t believe you’re totally innocent or have been completely honest with me. However, we know where to find you if the need arises. I’ll get your release papers together and bring them in for you to sign. How does that sound?”

  Robert took a deep breath and let it out all at once as if a huge weight had lifted off his shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Sounds good. Thank you.” A timid smile played at the corners of his chapped lips. “I don’t know where I’m at or where my car is…”

  Agent Martin stood. “I can take care of everything, Mr. Scott. I’m hoping I can count on your discretion. Do not discuss this with anyone at your law firm. There are still a number of things we’d like to check out, including your story.”

  He placed his hands on his hips and nodded like a bobblehead toy from the ballpark. “You got it.” He pretended to lock his lips and throw the key over his shoulder. “I don’t want any more trouble.”

  The agent put his hand on the doorknob and twisted. “I apologize for any inconvenience, Mr. Scott. Would you like a bite to eat? This will take a little longer to locate someone to return you to your car and sign the papers. Please let me do this for you.”

  “Sounds great. I am a little hungry.”

  “I’ll be right back.” The agent offered his best smile then removed it as he left the room.

  Another man who had waited for him earlier when he arrived prepared a tray with several sweet rolls, juice, and a cup of steaming coffee. The cloth napkin and stainless-steel silverware was a nice touch. The agent remembered him from Washington D.C. when he assisted in cleaning up the mess with President Austin. Sergeant Ken Montgomery was a former Ranger buddy of Chase Hunter. He raised his chin in acknowledgement of his presence then lowered his head as if to evaluate him with disdain. Another man, a former Marine, appeared from the closed room where the Enigma team waited with some papers he’d hand Robert to sign.