Bulletproof SEAL

by Carol Ericson

Quinn reached for the speaker to the right of the doorbell and jabbed the button with his thumb. He laid his own Nawlins accent on thick. “Good evening, ma’am. I’m Agent Miller and this is Agent Reid. We’ve come to collect Agent Dawson’s equipment.”

  At first Quinn thought she was going to ignore them and shut them out. Then the soft drawl responded, “Equipment?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. The Agency contacted you about some equipment of Agent Dawson’s and you indicated you had it at home?”

  “I don’t remember that.” The locks on the door clicked, and it inched open.

  A petite woman with fluffy blond hair appeared in the doorway.

  Rikki stuck out her hand. “Mrs. Dawson? I’m Agent Reid. Sorry for any confusion. We were sent to pick up some equipment.”

  Belinda released a measured sigh. “Sometimes I wonder how the government functions. Please come in.”

  Quinn took the attractive woman’s soft hand in his. “Sorry for your loss, ma’am, and sorry for the red tape.”

  “It’s been over a year. I’m used to it.” She closed the door and folded her hands in front of her. “Can I get you some tea? Lemonade?”

  “I’d love some tea, ma’am.” Quinn slathered on the Southern charm. A woman like Belinda Dawson would expect it. A quick glance around the lavishly appointed living room marked Belinda as a woman who spared herself no comfort or reward.

  Rikki shook her head. “Nothing for me, thank you. You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you.” Belinda started for the kitchen and glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll get it for you myself. The help has gone home for the day.”

  When she entered the vast kitchen, Quinn exchanged a quick look with Rikki, who raised her eyebrows.

  Belinda returned to the room, carrying two glasses of tea, the ice clinking softly. As she handed one glass to Quinn, she said, “Equipment, you say?”

  “Yes, when we...lose an agent, we do an inventory of his equipment. A few pieces were missing from Agent Dawson’s effects. Agent Reid and I received notification that you’d been contacted and had located the missing equipment.”

  “You know, it’s completely possible.” Belinda aimed her big blue eyes at Quinn over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of the very sweet tea. “There was so much...red tape when David died. Did you know him?”

  “I did not have the pleasure, ma’am.” At least Quinn could be truthful about something.

  “Agent Reid?” Belinda had approached Rikki from behind, hovering over her shoulder as Rikki studied a vast array of framed photographs on a shelf.

  Rikki cranked her head over her shoulder. “No, I never met Agent Dawson, but then our paths wouldn’t have crossed. I’d heard he was an incredible agent, though. A real treasure to the Agency.”

  Belinda bowed her head. “That’s nice to hear. It’s too bad he was betrayed by the one person he trusted the most.”

  Quinn’s heart hammered as he watched Rikki across the room. C’mon, Agent Reid, keep it together.

  “Oh?” Rikki tipped her head and her dark ponytail swung behind her. “I’d heard he was killed by the North Koreans.”

  “He was, but his partner made that happen. Rikki Taylor.” She spit out the name as if it were poison on her tongue. “They were partners. He was her mentor. He taught her everything. She tried to seduce him first, and when that didn’t work she betrayed him to the North Koreans. But she got hers. I heard she died, too. I don’t know how or when, but it gave me some measure of satisfaction.”

  Rikki blinked. “I can imagine it would. We didn’t hear that story.”

  Quinn ground his back teeth together. Dawson was worse than a snake if he told his wife Rikki had been trying to seduce him. Belinda probably found some evidence of David’s infatuation with his partner, and he turned it around on Rikki.

  Rikki picked up a picture from the shelf. “Is this Agent Dawson?”

  Quinn had uncoiled his muscles enough to move toward the two women. He wanted a firsthand look at the snake himself. He’d only ever seen him at a distance when he first met Rikki in Dubai.

  Belinda took the framed photo from Rikki’s hands and traced a finger over the form of a fit, compact man in his midforties, with the build of a long-distance runner, shirtless and standing in knee-deep water.

  Belinda almost whispered. “This is Davey. This is the last picture I have of him. We’d taken a brief vacation to the Bahamas before he left for Dubai, and then North Korea.”

  Rikki sniffed. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Dawson. We didn’t come here to bring up painful memories. If you don’t have Agent Dawson’s equipment, we can write it off as a misunderstanding.”

  “I can pretty much confirm I don’t have any of Davey’s work equipment here. I moved into this house about nine months ago—too many memories in the old place—and I would’ve remembered seeing anything of Davey’s from work and moving it over with me.”

  “We’ll report that, ma’am. Don’t concern yourself.” Quinn raised his glass before finishing off the tea. “That sure hit the spot.”

  Belinda placed Dawson’s picture back on the shelf, caressing the edges of the frame. “If I do find something, is there a number where I can reach you?”

  Quinn reached into his front pocket for his newly minted business cards and pulled one out. He pinched it between his fingers. “Here you go, ma’am. It’s best to call my cell phone number.”

  “Well, I will certainly take a look.” She made a half turn toward Rikki. “Are you sure you don’t want some refreshment before you leave?”

  “No, thank you. I feel bad that we troubled you on this wild-goose chase.”

  Belinda waved her hands. “Oh, Davey and I were married for over twenty years. I know how the Agency works.”

  A bead of sweat rolled down Quinn’s back in his cheap suit, despite the chilly air in Belinda Dawson’s house. Not only did this turn out to be a wild-goose chase for Rikki, she’d had to listen to David’s slights and lies.

  As Belinda walked them to the front door, she asked, “Are you taking any time to see the city? I do volunteer work at the Savannah Historical Society every weekday morning, and we have an incredible selection of artifacts and can give you some good sightseeing suggestions.”

  Rikki shook her head, her ponytail waving from side to side. “I’m afraid it’s business only for us.”

  Quinn smiled. “Thanks again, ma’am.”

  Belinda opened the front door and turned to shake their hands again. “Have a nice trip back to...Washington.”

  They didn’t say a word to each other as they walked down the pathway to the front gate and into the still night, light from the setting sun playing peekaboo between the trailing tails of Spanish moss.

  When they hit the sidewalk out of sight of the house, Quinn took Rikki’s arm. “Sorry about that.”

  “Sorry?” She turned toward him, her eyes alight with sparks. “I couldn’t be happier with the results.”

  He tripped to a stop. “You enjoy getting trashed and vilified?”

  “Small price to pay for the truth and the first big break in my investigation.”

  “You lost me.”

  “Quinn.” She grabbed his lapels. “David Dawson is still alive.”

  Chapter Ten

  Quinn’s eyes popped open. “What are you talking about? How did you come to that conclusion?”

  Rikki looked over his shoulder. She didn’t trust Belinda Dawson one iota. “Let’s keep moving. She could be calling the CIA or your cell phone number as we speak.”

  Quinn continued on the sidewalk, excitement lengthening his stride so that she had to hold on to his arm to keep up with him.

  With a slight pant, she said, “It was that picture.”

  “The vacation picture from the Bahamas?”

  “That wasn’t the Bahamas
. Did you get a load of that water? Looked like some muddy rice paddy in Southeast Asia.”

  “You’re saying that’s a recent picture of David? One taken after his supposed death in North Korea?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “How could you possibly know that? Because of an imagined rice paddy?”

  “Wait for the car. I’m not blabbing this on the sidewalk, even if there is nobody else around.”

  By the time they reached the car, sweat was dampening Rikki’s back. She ripped off her jacket, and Quinn did the same.

  Once in the car with the engine and the air running, Rikki bounced in her seat and turned toward Quinn. “It’s not the place. It’s the man and more specifically the tattoo.”

  “That tattoo on his chest? He didn’t have that before?”

  “Nope. The last time I saw David, right before I witnessed his so-called murder at the hands of the North Koreans, he most definitely did not have a big tattoo on his chest—a tattoo of a phoenix, I might add.”

  “You’ve seen David Dawson’s chest?”

  Her cough turned into a laugh. “That’s all you can focus on? Of course I’ve seen David’s chest. You know how scorching it gets in Korea, and all the other hot spots we’ve been in around the world. You’ve been in some of the same hot spots. I’ve seen him without his shirt several times, and I can say unequivocally the man never had a tattoo. Why Belinda keeps that picture around is beyond me. Beyond stupid.”

  “You don’t think it could’ve been one of those temporary tattoos, do you?”

  Compressing her lips into a thin line, Rikki tilted her head. “Really? The man is forty-four, not eight.”

  Quinn pulled away from the curb, his brows creating a vee over his nose. “David set up this Korea trip for the two of you with the cover that he had a line on Vlad. That got him money and support from Ariel. He engineered his own death, while fingering you as a traitor at the same time. Why you?”

  Rikki’s knees bounced. “Because of just that—the Vlad story was a cover and if nothing came of it, I’d be a witness.”

  “If nothing came of it, he could claim his sources fell through. Happens all the time.”

  Quinn snapped his fingers several times. “This trip was David’s opportunity to turn, to go over to the other side. He fakes his death so nobody is looking for him, and he sets up his partner so she takes the fall for being the traitor...and he gets his revenge.”

  “Revenge?” Rikki’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Because you rejected him, Rikki. He kills a lot of birds with those stones.”

  “Oh my God.” She wrapped her ponytail around her hand. “It was David all along. He set me up. Why? Who is he working for?”

  “This has Vlad’s fingerprints all over it. This wouldn’t be the first time he turned an agent or someone on the inside. My buddy Miguel Estrada had to deal with that. He was betrayed in Afghanistan and captured. Vlad is a master of manipulation. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he’d worked on David. Did you get the full effect of Belinda’s house? Do you really think life insurance money and a government pension are paying for that? It sounds like she quit her marketing job, too, and is volunteering her time.”

  “She knows. Of course she knows her husband’s alive. He sent her that picture—maybe as proof.” Rikki smacked her hand against her knee. “I should’ve taken that photo. I need to provide proof that David’s still alive—not in a North Korean labor camp, not held captive, not suffering from amnesia and wandering around South Korea—but alive and well and functioning as a traitor to his country.”

  “Taking that picture would’ve been risky. Belinda would’ve known it was missing and would’ve known it was us.”

  “I need to get some proof.”

  “The decoding. Let me get my guy, Donovan Chan, to work on David’s emails. I think we can take it to the bank that those messages contain some incriminating information.” Quinn wheeled into a parking lot and squealed to a stop. “And if Dawson’s betrayal has anything to do with Vlad, we’re going to nail them both.”

  “I want that picture, Quinn. I’m sure I’m not the only person who can testify to the fact that David Dawson didn’t have a tattoo when he went to North Korea. If I can plant some doubt that he perished in North Korea, maybe the CIA can start looking into Belinda Dawson’s finances. There might be an offshore account or some other irregularities, but it starts with that photo.”

  “We can’t just steal the picture. We’ll have to stage it as a break-in, and we’ll have to do it at night. God knows how many butlers, housekeepers and gardeners Belinda has around the house during the day.”

  “Tonight. We do it tonight.”

  “She’ll know it’s us.”

  “I don’t care. Let her suspect. I’m only too happy to strike some fear into her heart—and David’s.” Crossing her arms, she hunched her shoulders. “I can’t believe he turned on me, after everything we went through together.”

  “You know what I think?” Quinn put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot. “I think if he had been successful in seducing you, he would’ve tried to lure you to the dark side with him. As devastated as I’m sure he was when you rejected him, that’s not what pushed him over the edge. Guys like that are bad seeds. He would’ve turned anyway if the price was right.”

  “You’re probably right.” She tapped on the window. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m starving. We’re going to get something to eat before returning to the motel and changing into something more comfortable for breaking and entering.”

  “Can we please go out? I doubt we’re going to run into Belinda Dawson at dinner, since she seemed to have something simmering on her stove when we were there. Nobody else knows we’re here. Nobody knows I’m anywhere...just like David.”

  “I’ll meet you halfway. We’ll pick up some soul food and eat at the hotel pool.”

  “I guess it’s better than fast food in the room.” She turned toward him with a tilt to her head. “What exactly is soul food?”

  Quinn quirked his eyebrows up and down. “Allow me to introduce you to its delights.”

  * * *

  THE DELIGHTS OF soul food included lots of deep frying and lots of carbs. Rikki sucked down a big gulp of disgustingly sweet tea and curled her legs beneath her on the chaise longue by the pool. She yawned. “So, soul food is a sleep aid, because the only thing I want to do right now is close my eyes and drift off.”

  Quinn rubbed and then patted his flat stomach. “Pretty good, huh?”

  “Delish.” Rikki eyed his trim waistline.

  How did he manage to put away all that food and still look like a Greek god? She’d pay him the compliment, but she didn’t want to get caught up in a discussion of food and weight and start Quinn wondering about all her new soft spots. He seemed to like them, anyway.

  She pressed her hands against her own belly and the butterflies taking wing there. She’d tell Quinn about Bella as soon as she got the proof on David. Maybe she’d even let someone else take over the investigation, as long as the CIA didn’t want to take her into custody.

  Rikki swept up the used napkins on the table between them and shoved them into one of the plastic bags. “I have my clothes all picked out—black leggings, black T-shirt and a pair of sneakers for a quick getaway.”

  “And I have all my burglar tools. Should be a cinch to break in there—as long as she doesn’t have an alarm system. If she has one of those, it’ll take a little longer.”

  Rikki clambered out of the chaise longue and dumped their trash in the bin by the gate. “I should be able to tell if she does have an alarm system and if it’s armed.”

  “If it is, I got that covered.” He held up a deep-fried ball of something. “Do you want the last one?”

  “Knock yourself o
ut.”

  They returned to the room and changed into their night-crawler outfits.

  Standing before the mirror, Rikki wound the elastic holder around her ponytail once more. “Wish we had your motorcycle for this little assignment, or better yet, my silent electric scooter.”

  “We’ll be fine. I’ll leave the car by the park again. We’ll get in there, swipe the picture and get out. Who knows? Belinda may not even notice it’s missing for a day or two.”

  “Wait.” Rikki spun around from the mirror. “I thought we were going to steal a few more things to make it look like a break-in.”

  “Do you really want to steal some woman’s jewelry and small electronics?”

  “You don’t seriously expect me to feel some sympathy for a traitor and his wife, do you?”

  “I’m not a thief.”

  “It would be extremely odd for a burglar to steal a framed photograph only. You’re the one who made this point earlier.” She wedged a hand on her hip. “Why are you having an attack of conscience now?”

  “Okay, we’ll take a few other things and then return them to...someone.”

  “Whatever you want to do. We should return them to the CIA for the secrets David probably stole.”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Quinn hitched a small backpack over one shoulder. “Are you ready?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  They didn’t say much on the way over, and Rikki focused her private thoughts on David and his behavior their last year together. He had changed, had become less open with her. She’d written this change off to the awkwardness after his declaration of love for her and his anger when he found out about her and Quinn. Because he had been angry. Had that set him on this course?

  No. He had to have arranged the North Korea trip prior to Dubai. Quinn was right. David already had the inclination to betray his country; whether that came from greed or disagreements with the country’s policies, she couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter anyway. There could be no valid excuse.

  Quinn parked the car and cut the engine. “Do you think we should give it another hour? It’s not much past midnight. What if she’s a night owl?”