Montana Refuge

by Alice Sharpe

  “Two things. First, the expression on your face when the deputy told you to stay put, and second, my extra truck keys are sitting over there on the bureau.”

  She looked at the chest. Sure enough, there were the keys where she’d dumped them out of her pocket before her shower. “Well, good. I’m glad you know. Now I can be up-front and ask properly. May I borrow your truck?”

  “No.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I have to go to Seattle, Tyler. I have to find the professor. If anything happens to him—”

  He interrupted her by putting a finger across her lips. “You may not borrow my truck, but I will take you there myself.”

  “What? You can’t leave now with things like they are around here—”

  “Like hell I can’t.”

  “But Tyler—”

  “No buts, Julie. That’s the deal. Me and the truck or you walk. Sorry, babe, sometimes a man just has to draw a line in the sand.”

  “Why, you—”

  This time he shut her up with a kiss.

  * * *

  TYLER INSISTED THEY tell someone where they were going and Julie convinced him to let her tell Rose while he went back to the century house and packed a bag. She found Rose in the kitchen supervising the dishes. Rose led her back to her suite and closed the door behind them.

  “I don’t have much time,” Julie said quickly. “Tyler and I are leaving right now.”

  “You’re going to Seattle, aren’t you?”

  “I have to.”

  “And he’s going with you?”

  “Yes. I tried to talk him out of it, but—”

  “But he loves you.”

  “I know.”

  Rose grabbed her hand as tears sprang into her eyes. “Julie, John Smyth told you his preposterous idea, didn’t he?”

  Julie returned the pressure on Rose’s trembling hand. “Did he finally talk frankly with you?”

  “Yes, earlier today. I told him to leave at once, but then you and Tyler showed up and now he can’t leave even if he wants to.” She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “I knew he was up to no good. That’s why I didn’t go on the cattle drive, but now look at all that’s happened.”

  “None of that is your fault,” Julie said. “Just tell me this. Is what he thinks even possible?”

  Slowly, Rose nodded.

  “Please try not to worry,” Julie said. “I trust John to do what’s best for Tyler and I trust Tyler to always know who loves him. You won’t lose him if what John says is true. You’ll explain the past to him and he’ll understand.”

  “Can you promise me that?” Rose asked.

  Julie looked her straight in the eyes. “Yes, I can promise you that.”

  * * *

  JULIE DROVE FIRST WHILE Tyler did his best to shut down his brain and get some sleep. His turn behind the wheel would come soon enough. He didn’t awaken until Julie stopped the truck at a gas station. As the attendant filled the tank, she stifled a yawn.

  “My turn,” he said, getting out of the truck and walking around to the driver’s door. He opened it for her and caught her in his arms as she got out, hugging her against him, smiling inside when she hugged him back. He’d been dreaming about her minutes before, and touching her now made him burn for her.

  After fourteen hours of driving, they arrived in Seattle at noon or a little after. It took another hour to navigate the city traffic to get to the hotel where Julie had booked Killigrew a room. Her plan was simple. Stake out his room until she saw him, convince him his life was in danger and he needed to seek police protection, leave.

  “They’re not going to tell us which room he’s staying in, you know,” Tyler pointed out as they entered the parking garage. “Even if you tell them it’s an emergency, the most they’ll do is send up a message. Maybe.”

  “I know. That’s why you’re going to put in a rushed order for flowers to be delivered asap. I’ll follow the delivery person up to the professor’s room.”

  “I can’t order flowers for another man,” he said, looking a little horrified.

  “Sure you can. Hurry up now, if I remember the information on the internet site, the florist is right off the lobby.” The elevator opened and she pointed to the far left. “Over there. Make it something different so we can be sure to know which one goes to his room. I’m going to look in the café and make sure he’s not eating lunch or something.”

  Tyler walked into the florist shop alone and picked up the first arrangement that caught his eye, a towering bamboo and orchid thing. He invented a story about an ailing friend and gave a fifty-dollar tip for immediate delivery.

  Leaving the shop, he spotted Julie seated over by what appeared to be the freight elevator. She’d asked him to let her go alone and even though he didn’t like the idea, what choice did he have? It was difficult to remember she was not his to shelter and protect when every bone in his body ached to do just that.

  So he sat close by on a lounge chair in the quaint kind of old-fashioned lobby where a sign three feet in front of him said “Emerald City Discussion Attendees. Meet and Greet downstairs in Coho Room starting at 5:00 p.m. Committees forming tomorrow evening at nine.”

  Julie had asked him to keep his eyes peeled for a taller-than-average man of fifty or so years with wild white hair. If he came back, John was to follow him in case the flower trick didn’t work.

  Fifteen minutes later, a young guy in a hotel uniform went into the flower shop and emerged carrying the orchid arrangement. He went right to the freight elevator, just as though he’d rehearsed his role, and got inside. The elevator was the kind with a panel of numbers on the outside that lit as the elevator traveled. Tyler saw it pause on the eighth floor. Julie apparently did as well. She dashed around to the guest elevator and disappeared inside.

  To hell with her damn plan, he decided as he got to his feet and crossed the lobby. To hell with respecting her wishes.

  * * *

  JULIE GOT OFF THE elevator and wasted valuable time attempting to orientate herself. Where was the blasted freight elevator in this maze of halls? She was pretty sure she’d blown it when she sighted the bellboy walking past the end of the hallway she currently occupied. He still held the orchids.

  When he was out of sight, she ran down the hall and arrived at the crossroads in time to see him stop in front of a door. He knocked smartly twice, waited a second and then the door opened. Julie heard the rumble of male voices, the flowers disappeared, money exchanged hands and the bellboy walked by again, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone where he busily texted a message.

  But now she knew which room. She walked up to the door and raised her hand, pausing when motion down the hall caught her attention. Turning, she saw Tyler walking toward her. A brief flash of irritation came and went. She knew Killigrew was in his room—that’s all that mattered now.

  She opened her mouth and he put a finger over his own lips. She walked to join him instead.

  “Did you find him?”

  “Yes. He’s in his room. I was just about to knock.”

  “He’ll see you through the peephole.”

  “I know, but he’ll be curious—”

  “Just let me stand in front of the door—you stand off to the side.” He took out his gun and handed it to her. “We’re breaking some pretty serious laws by carrying a concealed weapon, but we don’t know for sure he’s alone, do we?”

  She hadn’t thought about that.

  “You hold on to the gun and stand to the side of the door. Let’s go.”

  There he was, giving orders. Funny thing was, however, she didn’t mind. He’d made some good points, so they set themselves up as he’d suggested. Tyler knocked. The door opened wide.

  Holding the gun out of sight, Julie was ready to step into view, but Tyler raised his hands by his head. “You aren’t the professor,” he said.

  Julie shrank back against the wall.

  “And you’re not anyone I know,” the other voice said. J
ulie knew that voice. Roger Trill! Her fingers tightened around the grip.

  “Do you always hold a gun on strangers?” Tyler asked.

  “Just when they’re friends of Killigrews,” he said. “Get in here.”

  There was no time to think. Once that door closed, Tyler would be at the mercy of Roger Trill, and when he found out who Tyler was, his life wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel. Julie stepped closer. Apparently sensing her thoughts, Tyler grabbed his side and bent over double, groaning as though he was in sudden, intense pain. Trill’s hand reached out and grabbed Tyler’s arm as if to pull him inside, and part of his head showed as he did so. Quickly flipping on the safety and turning the gun in her hand, Julie brought the grip down on Trill’s temple. He yelled. Tyler tackled him. Julie ran into the room and pointed the gun as Tyler disarmed the other man. Trill was subdued without a shot being fired.

  He sat on the floor, rubbing the knot on his temple. His eyes narrowed when he saw Julie. “I didn’t expect to see you,” he said.

  Julie stared him right in the eyes. “Because you thought your hired killers would get to me first? Well, they failed.”

  His pinched face registered confusion. “What hired killers?”

  “The two you sent to Montana to kill me.”

  He shook his head. “Not me. Probably your boss. He sent killers? That’s rich, isn’t it? Guess his mind was on more important things to bother with you himself.”

  “Sure. First you pushed me under a bus—”

  “Okay, that was me. I panicked when I learned via the wiretap that you knew I was a phony agent. When I saw you at the police station, I thought you knew it was me.”

  “And you killed Nora—”

  “No.”

  “I was on the phone when you came to ask her to check my apartment. I’ve spoken to her brother. I know.”

  Flinching, he quickly looked away. “I didn’t kill her,” he said.

  “Yes, you did,” she said. “Don’t lie.”

  He shook his head, met her gaze, looked away. “I could tell she knew I’d taken the suitcase,” he said. “I came back just to scare her, and she tried to call the police and I hit her. It was an accident, that’s all. I didn’t mean to kill her.”

  He rubbed his eyes and when he once again met their gaze, his face appeared paler and more pinched than ever. “I’m in over my head, I admit that. The gambling has taken over, I’m making some terrible choices and I thought if I could just get proof Killigrew is the assassin I know he is, I could make some money, pay off some debts before my life is ruined.”

  Julie shook her head. “Killigrew is the assassin? Not you?”

  “Hell, no, not me. I’ve suspected him for a long time. I’ve tried to catch him. Last year I arranged to run into him at a conference, even got our picture taken together.”

  “Why? And how did he end up with a copy?”

  “I sent it to him. I just wanted him to get nervous. Listen, whether he takes me out or the loan shark does, what does it matter? I was just trying to find a way under his skin. But the man is an ice cube.”

  “There were four men in that photograph,” Julie said. “One was Ted, a hired killer who it appears worked with Killigrew in some capacity. Who was the other?”

  “Ignacio Lendez. President Lendez’s son, you know, the old president of Uruguay who left office last year after his kid’s ‘untimely’ death. Ignacio was killed by a little pellet filled with poison that has no antidote, kind of like back in the seventies when the Bulgarians filled a tiny metal sphere with a biotoxin called ricin and stabbed it into Georgi Markov’s leg. Ignacio died a couple of days later. Your boss did it.”

  “That’s impossible!” Julie said.

  “I knew he was getting ready for another job,” Trill continued. “There’s a meeting going on in Seattle that has nothing to do with this conference. Something where a dozen leaders of South American countries are getting together for some powwow on democracy. I was trying to pump you to find out who his target is—”

  “So you can blackmail Killigrew?” Tyler snapped as he took the gun from Julie. “I should shoot you now and save the government the cost of your trial.”

  “It’s the addiction, man,” Trill said.

  “You knew about a murderer and your plan was to make money off him instead of bring him to justice? That’s not addiction, that’s a corrupt soul.” Tyler shook his head and added, “Julie, look around this room. Your boss isn’t staying here.”

  Now that she was no longer holding the gun, Julie did just that and realized Tyler was right. Besides the orchids, which had been deposited on a low table, there was no sign of occupancy.

  “He never stays in the room he books,” Trill said and produced a dry laugh. “He checks in, changes his appearance and leaves the hotel as a whole different person.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I was hoping he’d left a clue as to the identity of his next target. He specializes in South American policy makers who rub his client’s interests the wrong way. One of those twelve men gathering tonight isn’t going to live to see next week.”

  “But why tonight?”

  “Because tomorrow the sessions start and it’ll be almost impossible to get near any of the attendees. No, he’ll do it tonight. I should have just gone there and taken a million pictures and pieced it together later. I shouldn’t have come to his room.”

  “You’re right,” Julie said. “You shouldn’t have.”

  He produced another little laugh. “When the job is done, Killigrew will disappear back into his scholarly role as educator of the young. Face it, Ms. Chilton, when he finds out his hired killers blew it, you don’t stand much of a chance seeing next week either.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tyler wanted to call the police, but Julie convinced him it would take them too long to respond. Just convincing them they weren’t nuts, especially in lieu of Trill’s status as a cop, would destroy any chances they had to stop Killigrew. After Tyler gagged Trill and bound him to a chair using the drapery cords and Trill’s own handcuffs, Julie took Trill’s phone. They put the do-not-disturb sign on Killigrew’s door as they left.

  “If we survive this day, there’s going to be a lot of questions to answer,” Tyler said. “Like kidnapping a policeman, carrying a concealed weapon, swiping a cell phone. What do you want the phone for anyway?”

  “I can access the internet with this phone and find out where the meeting is taking place. And I can call Killigrew’s old assistant. She might be able to tell me something that would help us figure out how Killigrew disguises himself. He’s not an ordinary-looking man, Tyler. He’s tall and distinguished-looking, kind of haughty in his way. People don’t look past him. How could he really be what Trill says he is?”

  “Trill seemed pretty sure of himself.”

  “Still.”

  She tapped keys and scanned the internet until she finally said, “Eureka! The meeting starts tomorrow at the Pacific Sound Institute down near the wharf. Tonight there’s a ticket-only cocktail party held at the same venue. I’ll see if I can buy tickets online.”

  She poked around a little more and sighed. “It’s been sold out for weeks.”

  “Now what?”

  “I guess we go watch the arrivals. Now to find Marti Keizer.”

  That turned out to be surprisingly easy with one of the people search engines. “Here it is. Martina and Frederick Keizer, 211 Bay Street, Seaside, Oregon.” As Tyler pulled into a parking lot, Julie punched in the phone number and, miracle of miracles, the phone was soon answered by a man.

  “I’m looking for Marti Keizer,” she said. Nerves were beginning to assert themselves as she tried to figure out how to ask Marti about Killigrew without alarming her.

  “This is her husband. Who is this?” the man asked.

  “She doesn’t know me, Mr. Keizer. I took her old job. I just had a question—”

  “What kind of crank are you?” he asked.

&nbs
p; “I’m sorry,” she said, alarmed. “After she retired—”

  “Marti spent two whole days retired before she was killed while getting money from the ATM. If you are who you say you are, why didn’t Killigrew tell you that?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I’m so sorry.”

  “We bought a beach house over here when she got that big payoff. We still hadn’t unpacked the boxes when she was killed. I just stayed here, never went back to the city. They never caught the person who took her life....” His voice choked up and he added, “She was only fifty-eight years old. Damn.” And he hung up.

  “What is it?” Tyler asked as she clicked off the phone.

  She looked at him. “Marti is dead. Murdered a couple of days after she left her job. Killigrew never mentioned it.”

  “Didn’t the other people in the office say anything?”

  “There are hardly any other people around. The professor kept a really low profile at the school and only one other woman worked in the office. She’s a generation older than me and would hardly give me the time of day. I gathered it was because she figured she should have gotten the job I took, so I avoided her.”

  * * *

  BY THE TIME JULIE and Tyler found a parking spot and walked quickly back to the Pacific Sound Institute, cars had begun to pull into the portico to let off their occupants.

  Some of the vehicles came equipped with flags, which they assumed held the diplomats from different countries. Being as there were no movie stars, the media attention was modest with just one news truck, a cameraman and a reporter hovering near the entrance. Pedestrians dressed in street clothes had stopped to watch and Julie and Tyler joined them.

  Once people disembarked, they tended to blur together, some stopping to talk to the reporter, others standing off to the side looking relatively uncomfortable with the attention.

  “That’s the Uruguay car,” Tyler said, pointing out a long black car with twin blue-and-white-striped flags each sporting a sunburst in the corner. The flags were affixed to the front bumper on either side.

  Julie stared at the flags, then down the row of cars waiting their turn to unload. One car had the horizontal stripes of red, yellow and green—Bolivia’s flag, she thought—and two down from that sported flags of green almost bisected by red-and-yellow chevrons set one upon the other.