They turned into what looked like an industrial park filled with warehouses off one of the freight lines that ran through the eastern part of the city. The kind of place AJ would use to exchange a stolen car for the purpose of having it stripped and sold for parts, or the slightly less popular repurposing through paint, VIN, and license plate decoys to be shipped to other states for sale. He told himself that insurance always paid out for the cars he jacked. At least that had been his target audience in the past few years. It wasn’t like he stole the waitress’s washed-up Ford from the diner parking lot. High-end and well loved. Heavily insured.
In the past.
How he’d managed to not get caught all this time, he wasn’t sure. Probably because he didn’t have to do it, there wasn’t a drug habit to force it . . . it was more of an adrenaline thing.
He looked around the van and the faces inside. No shortage of adrenaline here.
They stopped and the back door flew open.
Cooper stood there wearing black from head to toe, a rifle of some sort slung over his shoulder, his lips smacking gum. “Hey ya.”
AJ climbed out of the back, lifted a hand for Sasha. For a minute it looked like she was going to ignore it, so he leaned in, grabbed her waist, and lifted her out of the van.
She brushed his hands away. “Get. Off. Me.”
Cooper chuckled.
Olivia placed a foot on the ground and Cooper stopped her. “Hold up, sugar.” He removed a piece of cloth from his back pocket.
“Oh, please.”
“I’m sure this isn’t your first dance at the rodeo. Turn around.”
She looked at him like he was kidding but gave him her back.
Once she was blindfolded, Cooper secured her handcuffs and led her beside them through the warehouse.
They walked with Cooper until he came to a room with one door and no windows. Inside he set Olivia on a bench. “For your safety, I’ve placed someone at the door. You need anything, just yell.”
“This is overkill,” she told him.
“Humor me then.” He closed the door and waved over the guy who had been driving the van. They walked down a short hall and found the team.
Now this was a war room. Long boardroom table, chairs everywhere . . . laptops open, maps and photographs. And a half a dozen new faces.
Sasha walked up to Neil. “Trina and Wade?”
“Secure. Don’t worry about them.” He looked her up and down. “Good to see you’re in one piece.”
Claire came out of her chair and tossed her arms around AJ’s waist. “So happy you’re here.”
He found himself hugging her back. “I see you raided Sasha’s closet.” She was dressed in a black leotard, hair in a ponytail. Only she skipped the high-heeled boots and went with a government issue combat style.
She chuckled and turned to Sasha. Watching them hug was almost as awkward as experiencing it himself. “This looks like it hurt.” Claire pointed to Sasha’s lip, which was slightly swollen from her fight with Olivia. Makeup did a good job of hiding it, but he could tell the difference.
“Bug bite,” Sasha teased.
“Okay, let’s bring you up to speed,” Neil said.
“Before we start,” Sasha stopped him, “can somebody go untie Lars and bring Olivia in?”
AJ looked at the door and then Cooper.
“She isn’t a threat, Neil. She has intel we don’t on Pohl.”
While Sasha and Neil faced off, AJ followed Cooper down the hall.
The chair next to the room they’d locked Olivia in was empty, the door was wide open, and Olivia sat beside Lars, who was gagged, handcuffed, and lying on his side, staring at them.
“You’re right,” Olivia said the second they walked into the room. “This isn’t my first rodeo. You don’t want me in the loop, fine, I wouldn’t trust me either. But a cot and a blanket would be just swell.”
Sasha rounded the corner with a grin. “You don’t disappoint.”
Olivia stood, walked past AJ and Cooper, and winked.
“What the hell are they gonna do now, the Richter secret handshake?” Cooper asked.
AJ turned his head. “Wait, you don’t have one of those, right?”
They both laughed.
“I can’t protect you out there,” Linette scolded Brigitte behind the closed door of her office. “These walls are secure, your cottage is a target.”
“No one knows about us,” Brigitte argued.
“Much as I would like to believe that, there are no guarantees. Sasha’s taking too long. I’m reaching out to her tonight.”
“What makes you think she’s going to come? You drove her away, introducing her to Pohl.”
Linette didn’t appreciate her tone. “I did what I had to do. She fell into our lap, Brigitte. All we ever needed was one strong student to stand up to that man. When she walked back through that door, it was our way out. Our way of ending the decade-long harvest of our students. He has chosen an enemy he cannot win the war with. Not Sasha. Not her new friends and family.” She crossed to her lover and grasped her hands. “The board is meeting tomorrow night. If I don’t have something to hold over them, they will remove me from my position and put someone in my place that will continue the cycle.”
“Most of the board has already removed their students.”
“That doesn’t mean they won’t toss me out with them. I can’t do it anymore.”
“If Geoff learns what you’ve done . . .”
“Who is going to tell him, you? Come now. Everything is in motion. The time is now. Stay on campus, please. Give me a few more days.”
Brigitte agreed and squeezed her hands.
Music blared in Claire’s ears, compliments of a set of headphones Cooper had loaned her. Music. Who knew she’d want to hear it until her eardrums bled? It wasn’t like Richter said they couldn’t listen to it, but the stations they had access to were so politically correct she wanted to puke.
She reached for the packet of Oreos, her new favorite, and popped one in her mouth.
Cooper tapped her on the shoulder.
She pulled the headphones off. “What?”
“That’s not how you eat them.”
Wiping crumbs with the back of her hand, she talked with a mouthful of chocolaty goodness. “It’s a cookie.”
He took one from the bag and proceeded to remove the two halves and lick the cream from the center. “Middle stuff first.” He put the two cookies back together and ate them both in one bite.
“No, no, no . . .” Isaac took one, opened it up, licked the cream, and then ate one cookie at a time.
The two men sat in debate over the art of eating an Oreo for the next few minutes.
When Claire turned her attention back to her computer, the video game app running on the side said she had a message. “Looks like Jax is at the computer.”
Noise in the room settled.
Claire read the message, moved the words around in her head and put them together.
She started to respond and then stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Sasha leaned over, looked at the screen.
“She asked if I was still with you,” Claire told her.
Sasha peered closer. “What language is that?”
“She’s probably just worried about you being alone,” AJ suggested.
Claire shook her head. “She didn’t start with our code.”
“What code?” Sasha asked.
“A joke, snark . . . something we both know we know but no one else does. You know, like her first kiss was Fredrick in the stacks. Something like that.” Claire read the message a second time. “‘Is Sasha still with you,’” Claire read aloud.
Sasha read alongside her. “You’re using German and Russian . . . only different.”
Claire looked at Cooper. “Told you she’d crack it.”
He put two thumbs up in the air.
“What does it mean if she isn’t using her code?” Isaac asked.
“That
she’s not alone,” Claire muttered.
“Someone found the computer room. How do we know this is even Jax talking?”
“We don’t.”
Neil placed both hands on the far end of the table. “Call them out. Tell them you know it’s not your friend and ask them what they want.”
“You sure?”
Neil narrowed his eyes.
“Okay, okay. Pull your knickers out of your ass.”
Isaac cleared his throat, reached for his water.
She started typing. This isn’t Jax. Who are you and what do you want?
It took a minute, but the response was in English, no decoder ring needed.
Very clever encryption, Claire. But it’s exhausting my brain. Is Sasha with you?
Cooper sat back. “Okay, even I can read that.”
“Why are they asking?” Neil dictated.
Claire typed the question, waited for the response.
If she wants her freedom and yours, too, she might consider using some of her influence to alleviate the pressure from a certain benefactor. Otherwise business will continue as normal with the new administration.
Sasha grabbed the keyboard and started typing. When is this new administration taking over?
Neil moved around the desk to see what Sasha was typing.
Sasha looked at him, waited for his nod, and pressed send.
Twenty-one hours. It takes a large quorum for this kind of change. The meeting of the minds, past and present, need to approve.
“Tomorrow night,” AJ said.
“How do we know this isn’t a setup?” Cooper tossed his hands in the air.
“How do we know this isn’t Pohl bringing the pigs in for slaughter?” Olivia asked.
AJ stood, started to pace. “Meeting of the minds, past and present. Schools are run by whom?”
“A school board,” Cooper said.
Sasha lifted a hand, pointed at AJ. “Clever, Clyde.”
“Got your back, Bonnie,” he said with a wink.
“Someone want to tell me what the hell that meant?” Neil asked.
“AJ’s mother was on the board. We need to make sure she is in attendance,” Sasha suggested.
“And I will accompany her.” AJ glanced around the room as if anticipating an argument.
No one denied him.
Twenty-one hours, Claire. Relay my message.
The chat room emptied.
Neil clapped his hands. “Okay, talk to me. What do you know about board meetings?”
“Meetings at night are parties,” Olivia said. “Black-tie things disguised as fundraisers.”
“During the day they take place in the auditorium,” Sasha said. “Those were lily days.”
“Still are,” Claire added.
“So, some of the board knew about the normal operations of Richter and some didn’t?” Cooper asked.
Olivia jumped out of the chair she was sitting in. “The board always knew. Why do you think Pohl is still around? The lilies were for their spouses. You need the perfect amount of balance in these situations. Those in the know and those who are clueless. Most of the teachers at Richter are oblivious of Pohl. They think they’re providing the world with prodigies like Claire. They convince their spouse that arms training and martial arts is just ‘smart.’ Crazy world we live in and all that. They leave Richter with jobs in the CIA, British intelligence agencies, and the like, and no one blows the whistle.”
“Are you telling me the board members all knew about Pohl and what he represented?” AJ asked. The anger in him didn’t escape anyone in the room.
Olivia glared at him. “Are you that naive? People are not always what they seem, Car Klepto.”
“My father could have been left in the dark,” AJ mused out loud.
“High probability,” Sasha said.
AJ ran both hands through his hair and rubbed them over his face. “Someone in that room knows who killed my sister.”
“My money is on Pohl commissioning a hit,” Olivia said.
“Then why the other roommates?” Claire asked. “I mean . . . Jax and I are close. Everyone at the school knows that. If Creepazoid hired me and five years later wanted to get to me, he wouldn’t take out my other roommates.”
“Unless it isn’t Pohl and whoever made the hits wasn’t going to risk asking around and raising any red flags,” Sasha said.
“Amelia was friendly with everyone.” Olivia paced the room.
“What about you?” Neil asked. “Were you friendly with everyone?”
Olivia’s lips pressed together . . . she paused. “My roommates. But I cut it all off when I took the job with Pohl.”
“Until you met back up with Amelia.”
“Which was a total accident. I would never have sought her out and put her at risk.” Olivia looked directly at AJ, remorse in her eyes. “I wasn’t on a job when I reconnected with Amelia in South Africa. It had been three months since I’d been sent out. I’d had it. I wanted out and couldn’t find a way. If I went to the authorities, it would be my neck in the noose, not the man who was blackmailing me. We were drinking one night and I told your sister enough to scare some sense into her. She wouldn’t have it. She believed that we were smarter than the average person out there. Together we could find a way to break me out of the chains that I’d let myself get into. We met up a couple times after that, and when it seemed no one caught on to our friendship, I disappeared.”
“Did you contact Amelia after that?” Neil asked.
“Once. Two months before she was murdered.”
“You worked for Pohl. Only him, right?” Neil asked.
She nodded.
“You never had any contact with anyone, on any job, other than him?”
She shook her head. “Solo agent. I didn’t have the luxury of a team.” Olivia glanced around the room.
Neil leaned against a table, crossed his arms over his chest. “Then it’s time for you to turn state’s evidence.”
Sasha felt her heart slam in her chest. There was no way of knowing how Olivia would respond to the suggestion.
“I’ll be dead before I can testify.”
“Not if we gather everything Richter is hiding and blow all the whistles,” Sasha suggested. “Regardless of who falls.” Her gaze met AJ’s. “Even your mother.”
“All guilty parties stand trial. Innocents go free,” Claire said.
“That’s not how things work in the real world,” Olivia scoffed.
“As long as Pohl is a free man, you have no life. He will hunt you down and kill anyone you care for,” Sasha reminded her.
Olivia lifted her chin.
Silence filled the room.
“I’ll do it.”
Sasha heard at least two of the men sigh.
“On one condition.”
“Name it,” Neil told her.
“I go out with you tonight. Part of the team.”
“Out of the question.”
Olivia faced off to Neil. The man towered over her, outweighed her by a hundred pounds of sheer muscle, but she didn’t back down. “Then I won’t be here when you get back.”
“How do I know you won’t escape while we’re out?”
“You. Have. My. Word.” Each word was its own sentence, all humor on Olivia’s face gone.
Neil’s jaw twitched.
Sasha wasn’t sure she’d want the decision that was his to make. For what her opinion was worth, she believed Olivia would be there in the end. But trust needed time to be earned, and they hadn’t known her long enough to grant her that.
“You team with me,” Neil finally said.
Anxious looks moved around the room.
AJ took a giant step toward Olivia. “If you fuck this up.”
“I owe your sister.”
He tilted his head, clenched his fists. The tension in his frame called a warning in Sasha’s head.
She jumped up, moved between them. “Let’s take a walk.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Wait up.” Sasha jogged after AJ as he stormed out of the room and down the hall.
He kept walking.
She doubled her steps to keep up. She got it. The need to move, the need to exercise emotion out of her system.
Her legs kept up with his. They marched through the warehouse, past the van that brought them there, and out the door. It was dark, a little after midnight in Berlin.
Cold air slapped her in the face.
She ignored it.
AJ turned, stopped. “My mother was on the board.”
Sasha kept her lips tight. Let him vent.
“She knew . . . she had to know about Pohl. Why? What the hell does she have to hide?”
“I don’t know, AJ. Maybe your mother didn’t have a choice. Stuck in a loop like Olivia and unable to get out.”
His nose flared. “My sister is dead. Nothing is worth that.”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
“Am I? If my mother is on a rat wheel she can’t escape, then she has something to hide.”
She stepped in front of him, reached for his arm. “What if your mother was protecting you? Maybe someone got wind of your occupation?”
“It wasn’t an occupation when Amelia attended Richter.”
“Are you sure about that?”
AJ looked toward the sky, his eyes moving back and forth as if searching his memory for the answer. “No. Yes . . . I’m sure. Amelia was out of Richter and in college.”
“You mean to tell me you took a hiatus between the car you were caught stealing and the next?”
“Yes. I cased cars. Learned to open doors and hotwire them. Found blind buyers . . . I learned my trade long before I crossed the line. I wasn’t going to get caught. I didn’t get caught. I remember that first Christmas after Amelia was in college. I’d come off that first adrenaline high the Thanksgiving before. My sister was out of Richter. Dad was back in the States. My mother is guilty of something, protecting someone . . . but it wasn’t me.”
“We get through the next twenty-four hours and you can ask your mother every question running through your head.”
He shook his head. “None of her answers will matter.”
Say It Again (First Wives) Page 26