No Hiding Behind the Potted Palms! A Dance with Danger Mystery #7

by Barton, Sara M.

  “So, when I was attacked last night, that was all because they thought I was working with Diego?”

  “I’m afraid so. This thing has started to take on a life of its own, Ms. Dunham, and if we let you go now, with the way things stand, they’ll continue to believe you’re a part of the plot to steal their heroin. Don’t forget they have your credit card information, so they can show up on your doorstep. We need to convince them that not only are you just an innocent art patron, but also that Diego was just a kid who made a mistake.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We’re going to put you back on the train, but we’re going to also leave the package with the heroin in your car and let them steal it. First we have to convince them that you got the wrong package,” said Agent Devry. ‘They won’t move in if they think this is a DEA operation. If they think they triggered a terror alert, they’re much more likely to pick up the trail once you’re off the train and snatch the drugs back, only this time our people are ready. We’ll add a tracking device to your shoe, so we can follow you.”

  “Wouldn’t it just be easier to arrest them?” I asked. After all, Warren was going to fire me if I wasn’t back in time. I really didn’t want to lose my job.

  “We’re not ready to arrest them,” Chen announced. “We need more information on the network.”

  “But I could get killed!” I pointed out, my voice rising with the level of my panic. “How many other people already got killed here today?”

  “Actually?” Chen looked at me with a smirk. “None.”

  “But all that shooting! And the explosions!”

  “We arranged all that.”

  “I don’t understand.” I was baffled by the turn of events. “You let them shoot up the train?”

  “No. We drew their attention by letting them think we were Homeland Security and not some competing organization,” Agent Devry explained. “It was enough to make them back off on killing you. We bought ourselves some time, so we can control the operation once we get to Lorton.”

  “This is crazy!” I decided. “It’s utter madness.”

  “Hey,” said the guy with the ice blue eyes, striding up to me. “We made sure you stayed alive. If it wasn’t for us, you’d be dead now, Princess. You were transporting a quarter of a million dollars in heroin in that package.”

  “Oh, lordy.” I sank back down on the seat of the ambulance. “This can’t be happening.”

  “Here’s the problem, Ms. Dunham,” Agent Devry told me as he sat beside me. “This cartel has made inroads in recent months. They have a new way of bringing in their merchandise through the Florida Keys. Until we know how they do it, we can’t find a solution to block them.”

  “But why can’t you do it without me?”

  “Because you walked in that art gallery. Because these people are ruthless and they know who you are. We need to convince them you’re not a threat,” Agent Devry reminded me yet again. “When you were attacked last night, the conductor called Amtrak security, to let him know that something was going on. He and his fellow employees were concerned when you were attacked and your purse was taken, but then returned. When it turned out your keys were missing, folks were worried this was a little more than just a crime of opportunity, especially when they found someone deliberately shut off the electrical power on the train. That automatically kicks off a terror alert. That gave us a chance to coordinate with Homeland Security. The media has been told this was potential terror attack that was thwarted. We want those guys to believe it.”

  I looked at all the faces of the government agents as they crowded around me. A big part of me wanted to get into Uncle Jack’s car, drive off the auto train and keep going to St. Michaels, without ever looking back. But another part of me realized that it wouldn’t be that hard for Raul and Mr. Cañizo to wait a week or so to come calling on me in the middle of the night. I had security at my new Arlington condo, but I was pretty sure the staff wasn’t prepared for an armed attack from determined drug traffickers. I was about to say yes when Mr. Blue Eyes went and spoiled it.

  “Forget it, sir. She’s too important to help us out. I say cut her loose and throw her to the sharks.”

  “What’s the matter, Jacobsen? Did she turn you down and now you want to punish her?” Chen gave his colleague a big, self-satisfied grin. “If you ask me, she’s making a good decision not to work with the likes of you!”

  “Oh, let me guess. All of a sudden you want the assignment?”

  “I’d do a hell of a lot better with it than you would!” Chen claimed.

  “Like the Austin assignment? That was a great job you did there, buddy!” Jacobsen shook his head in disgust. It was time for me to break up this battle of the testosterone.

  “Wow,” I sighed. “I was going to say I’d help, but you boys really know how to talk a girl out of that. No way am I going to trust my life to a couple of goofballs who can’t see straight.”

  “What?” Mr. Blue Eyes was incensed. I could see the flaring of his nostrils as he reamed me out. “You have a hell of a nerve! I’ll have you know I’ve been a DEA agent for fourteen years, Missy!”

  “Then act like it,” I snapped back. “You sound like a teenager with overactive hormones! Very unprofessional, my friend.”

  “Let me guess,” he sneered. “You were a cheerleader and you spent a lot of time in the locker room with the football team!”

  “How dare you!” I sputtered.

  “Holy cow,” Chen groaned. “Even I’m not that much of a jerk. Scale it back, buddy!”

  “Oh, shut up!” Jacobsen snarled.

  “Well, this is going well,” said Agent Devry. “I can see we’re going to get along swimmingly. Now, on the count of three, I’m calling a truce, and the next person who violates it is going down the rapids without a paddle. Are we clear on that?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Mr. Blue Eyes, glowering at me.

  “Yes, sir,” Chen agreed, a slight smirk on his face. The group turned to me expectantly.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “Ms. Dunham, are you on board or not?”

  Chapter Five —

  “Fine!” I snapped. “But you should consider sending your people to charm school, because their manners stink!”

  “I’m sorry,” said a female agent. “Am I missing something? Are you saying DEA agents are less than civilized?”

  “I didn’t mean you,” I stuttered. “It’s those two!”

  “Whitewater time!” Chen chastised me.

  “Somebody give her raft a good shove into the water,” Jacobsen chortled, throwing his head back with glee.

  That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I drew myself to his chin and gave him a piece of my mind.

  “What is it about me that you don’t like?” I demanded. “What exactly have I done to yank your chain? I’ve got a boss who told me that if I’m not at his freaking gallery opening on time, I’m fired. I’ve been sucked into an absolute nightmare, with a deadly drug cartel chasing me. I’ve been assaulted on a train in some twisted plot I don’t even understand. And now I’m supposed to tolerate your snide comments because you’ve decided I’m not worthy of your respect? What did I do to you?”

  “Lighten up, Durham,” he sniffed, nose in the air. I was not some high school girl annoyed because a boy yanked my pigtails.

  “Lighten up?” I poked him in the chest with my forefinger. “Hear me well, Agent Jacobsen. I am not one of your buddies. I am not some informant you can drop kick when you feel like taking your frustrations out on somebody. You take a swing at me, I’m going to swing right back at you. I’m not taking any of your crap, so pull yourself together and be a decent human being! You can’t do that, then stay the hell away from me!”

  Mr. Blue Eyes looked down at me with utter shock written all over his face before he crumpled like a puppy, his tail between his legs.

  “Point taken,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

  I was still fuming as he walked away
, seeking out some of his colleagues who were huddled together.

  “Let’s walk, Kelsey.” Agent Devry took me by the elbow kindly and steered me away from his agents. “Don’t let Axel get to you. He has a good reason for being a jerk. His wife was having an affair with the guy down the hall while he was off on assignment. He’s still pretty broken up about it.”

  “That doesn’t give him license to take it out on me,” I retorted.

  “No, it doesn’t. I’m sharing this with you because I need you to work with the guy. He’s going to get back on that train with you and finish the ride. I want you two to act like you’ve got a thing for each other, so he has an excuse to hang out with you. He’s going to be your bodyguard.”

  “Don’t you have someone else you can send in?” I pleaded. “Anyone else?”

  “Look, Kelsey,” he sighed, “I know you’re a civilian and it’s not easy to absorb all the reasons why we’re doing things this way. Axel’s one of my best agents. He’s very experienced at undercover work and he’s the only guy I have handy who has a decent cover that the cartel can’t break. I don’t have time to bring in someone else. You two have to get back on that train in a few minutes, because that train has to get moving. You’ll get to Lorton and wait for your car. You’ll get into your car and drive to a restaurant, where you and Lover Boy will linger long enough to let the bad guys break into your car and steal that heroin back. We’re hoping they’re smart enough to put the gecko in your car in its place.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If they replace the package with the right one, we’ll feel more confident that they believe it was just a mistake. We won’t have to worry about them coming after you. You and Axel won’t ever have to cross paths again. It will all be over in about three hours. You’ll be on your way to St. Michaels and your boss will understand.”

  I shook my head as I stood there, arms folded across my chest. Agent Devry waited for my answer.

  “You don’t know Warren,” I told him.”The guy’s a real jerk.”

  “Look, I’m not about to dispense employment advice to you, but if your boss can’t see what a good person you are, I have no doubt there are other bosses out there who can. You strike me as an intelligent woman with a good head on your shoulders. Get through this and give yourself a chance to start a new chapter. I don’t want to see you live your life in fear. I want you to go and have a good life. Can you do that?”

  “Sure.”

  “So,” he said with a grin, “how are your acting skills? Do you think you can convince people you find Axel attractive?”

  “I guess I can. At least he’s not a gargoyle. But he should probably keep his mouth shut, because he’s likely to say something dumb and get me all riled up,” I admitted.

  “I have no problem with you two duking it out for the next couple of hours. I just want to keep you safe.”

  With that he led me back to the circle of trucks, where the group was busy setting things up. Mr. Blue Eyes was nowhere to be seen.

  “Kelsey,” said a man dressed in black, his curly hair going gray, “I’m Agent Horton. I’ll take you back to the train. We’re going to make a big show of it. We want people on the train to talk to you, to ask you questions. What you’re going to tell them is that we asked you to describe the terrorists, that you didn’t get a good look at them, and that we’re still investigating. Can you do that?”

  “Okay,” I responded.

  “Great. Now, hop on the back of the ATV and I’ll ride you back. When you get there, don’t speak to me. I want you to look like you’re stunned. There are some reporters on the scene. They’ll try to get you to answer their questions, but you should wave them off, like you’re too upset to talk to them. They’ll race ahead to the Lorton station, because they want the scoop. Expect them to be aggressive. We’ll keep them away from the train before you disembark. Once you’re clear, Axel following you, the press will probably try to corner you when you stop to wait for your car. Let them. It will give the bad guys plenty of time to get into your car and make the switch. We’ll be watching them. If they only steal the heroin, we’ll grab you up and take you to a secure location. Okey-dokey?” Horton walked me over to the ATV. He threw his leg over the machine and waited for me to climb into the rear seat behind him. He handed me his helmet.

  “Put this on,” he instructed me.

  “But what about you?” I wondered.

  “I’m a hard-headed guy. I’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, took a blow to the head last night. Wear the helmet. It’ll keep your hair all pretty for the press.”

  “Oh,” I sighed.

  “What?”

  “I don’t have my purse with me. I can’t brush my hair.”

  “Doulin! You got a brush and maybe a little lipstick for the cover girl?” he hollered to a tall redhead with an easy grin.

  “Hold on!” Minutes later, she was pulling out a comb and a tube of Vaseline. “This will have to do. Oh, wait. Do we want to wipe the dirt from her face or let the press see her as is?”

  “As is,” Horton replied. “Much more dramatic. It looks like she went up against a band of terrorists.”

  Once Agent Doulin fluffed me up, I slipped my head into the helmet and fastened it. With my arms securely wrapped around Agent Horton’s waist, I gave him a thumbs-up and we were off, bumping along the same route back to the train. By this time, the media had managed to overrun the area beside the train. There were heavy-duty vehicles with satellite dishes on the top and reporters talking as the cameras rolled. Agent Horton pulled up to a group of Homeland Security officials standing by one of the passenger cars. It wasn’t the one I was assigned to ride.

  “Ms. Dunham,” said a man in a dark suit and sunglasses. “Come this way. We’re going to move your seat. We want you to sit in the same car as our agents.”

  A short time later, I was led a coach seat by the window, with a new group of passengers. There were four men and two women sporting Homeland Security vests, scattered throughout the car. The man who escorted me made a show of pointing each of them out, emphasizing their status. After a final conversation with the Homeland Security team, the official exited. Moments later, he was surrounded by the press as he stepped up to a microphone for an outdoor press conference.

  The train whistle blew its warning just before the engine fired up and we began to move. The last seat remained unfilled, and I started to feel nervous. What if something had happened to Axel? Who would look out for me?

  “Excuse me. Pardon me,” said a gruff voice. A man in a seersucker shirt and chino pants, carrying his overnighter, reached above me. As I stole a quick glance, the moustached passenger with brown eyes gave me a wink. Taken aback by his boldness, I recoiled slightly, until I felt a size nine loafer kick my sandal. A shiver of delight passed through me like a ghost and I realized how relieved I was to see Axel. He settled himself in the seat next to me, arms and legs sprawling into the aisle.

  A woman about my age, sitting across from me in a low-cut tank top and capri pants, was eying Axel like he was a chocolate eclair. For a moment, I almost thought I saw her lick her lips in anticipation of taking a bite. Don’t ask me why, but I found her behavior more than a little annoying. After all, Axel was supposed to be interested in me. The last thing I needed was competition, especially if we were to fool the drug traffickers. Next to her was the man in the white tank top, tattoos and all. He was practically salivating as he watched her bend over, cleavage exposed, as she dug around in her big tote bag. She finally pulled out a paperback romance and settled back to read, her fingers twirling a lock of her golden brown hair.

  “Do you mind?” Axel poked me with his elbow.

  “What?” I looked up at him, still disconcerted by his brown contact lenses.

  “The newspaper. I’d like to read it.” I followed his gaze to the copy of the Orlando Sentinel that was tucked into the narrow space between my seat and the wall. “Sometime today would be nice.”

  “Excus
e me?” I frowned.

  “I’m just saying that it isn’t brain surgery. Surely you have the capacity to hand me the newspaper. Just because you’re blonde, that’s no excuse for being numb.”

  “Take the damn newspaper!” I hissed. “Are you sure you’ll be able to read it all by yourself?”

  “Why? Are you offering to read to me? Because I have to tell you I’m surprised. I didn’t think you capable of reading anything more than your horoscope.”

  “Actually, I was going to explain the comics to you, because I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to follow the pictures.”

  “Wow, you’re so funny,” Axel announced in an overly loud voice. “I’ll bet you’re the kind of girl who never put out on the first date. I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “What?”

  “You’re the kind of girl who wears a tube top and then gets mad when a guy wants a peek.” He shot me a lascivious look.

  “How dare you!”

  “How dare I? How dare you!” He gave me a look of pure disdain. “Out to torment the boys.”

  “What?” By now, I was getting just as loud, and even as head began to turn in our direction, I couldn’t stop myself. “Just who the hell do you think you are, talking to me that way?”

  “Oh, little Miss Icicle doesn’t remember me. How convenient!”

  “Remember you? I’m supposed to remember you?”

  “Orlando Hilton. You were in the room next to me. You didn’t object to having my hands all over you at the pool when I did your back.”

  “My back?” I was horrified by the direction of the conversation. Axel really was good at attracting the wrong kind of attention.

  “Sunscreen. You didn’t mind me touching you at the pool when you needed a little SPF 45, but you blew me off in the bar.”