Very carefully, I reached over to the closet door and pulled out a shotgun. I didn't keep it loaded. If my troop found it, there'd be all kinds of holes in this house. The safe in the back of the closet was set for my biometrics. I pressed all five fingers down, and seconds later, the door opened.
It is not easy to load a shotgun quietly. Oh sure, why not use a handgun, you say? Pshaw. Don't get me wrong—I'm a crack shot with a pistol. But only when I'm wide awake. A shotgun is much better for hitting your target when you aren't fully in the moment.
Sliding the last cartridge into the gun, I leaned against the doorway and glanced out. The sound of cupboard doors opening and closing told me that unless Rex was cooking something that used every implement in my kitchen, I was dealing with an intruder.
The laptop!
My mind raced to remember what I'd done with it. Obviously it wasn't sitting in plain sight, or the intruder wouldn't be searching the kitchen. So where did I put it?
Philby trotted up the hallway toward me. She didn't seem alarmed. Which meant it was someone she knew. I relaxed and slumped against the door. It had to be Rex. And he must be making breakfast.
I snapped the safety on and shouldered my weapon. It didn't hurt to take it with me…just in case.
As I turned into the kitchen, I froze.
"Riley! What are you doing here?"
My former partner froze. He was surrounded by every pot, pan, and dish in my house. The cupboards and drawers were all open. I lifted my shotgun and aimed at his heart. I wasn't going to kill him, but scaring him was a definite option.
Riley's casual smile wavered a fraction when he saw the shotgun but went back to his usual, annoying expression.
"I was going to make breakfast."
I was fully awake now. "Oh yeah? Where's the food?"
"I hadn't gotten it out yet. I wanted to make sure you had everything I needed. And seriously, Wrath, your organization is a mess."
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the laptop on the fridge. He hadn't noticed it yet.
"Sit." I waved the shotgun at the chairs at the breakfast bar.
We exchanged places so that he sat and I stood in the kitchen. I lowered the shotgun and took the laptop down from the fridge. Riley's eyes widened a fraction of a millimeter. So that was what he was after.
"You are investigating something here, you liar."
Riley didn't take his eyes off the laptop. "May I see that?"
"No." I shook my head. "You lied to me."
"Look…" He ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair. "I'm just doing my job. You're not in the CIA anymore, and you've never been a Fed, so this isn't something you need to know. Hand me the laptop."
I was saving the laptop for Rex. But to be honest, Rex would just have to hand it over to the FBI if espionage was involved. Still, I should be more loyal to my fiancé.
I held the laptop against my chest. "Tell me what you think you're going to find on it."
"Tell me what you found on it." Riley's face was completely blank.
We were at an impasse. I hated impasses. They always ended with a shootout. Always.
I took one step closer to the breakfast bar to give him a bit of hope. "You tell me whose laptop you think this is, and I'll consider it."
Riley sighed. Behind his calm demeanor, I knew he was wrestling with what to do here.
"I won't jeopardize your job," I said. "I just want to know if I'm right."
He seemed conflicted. "I can't tell you."
I backed up toward the fridge. "Alright. I'll send it to the newspaper with everything I know."
Riley paled. "The Des Moines Register?"
He had reason to worry. Most people not from Iowa didn't know that the Register was a hard-hitting, Pulitzer Prize winning paper. They'd get to the bottom of it in no time, and the FBI would have a public relations nightmare on their hands.
Riley didn't need to know that I was actually thinking of the local paper. I saw the arguments at war in his head. He might think he had one over on me, but he most likely had his doubts. I was becoming more unpredictable to him.
"Okay," he said finally. "We think Kate Becks was a double agent. She worked with us, but the Russians thought she was with them. Her disappearance has us all a bit nervous."
It wasn't easy to keep the snark out of my voice. "Because maybe she was a double for their side, not ours?"
Riley nodded. "She dropped off the radar a few days ago. We searched her place, but…"
I finished his sentence for him. "The local police arrived and scared you off."
Wow. I'd investigated after the FBI and the police. They hadn't found the secret room. I kind of wanted to brag about that a little.
"How did you know about the laptop? How did you know I had it?"
Riley grinned. "Because I know you. I knew you thought your neighbors were illegals. I followed you to see you go to Kate Becks' place of employment and where she was getting therapy. You'd put two and two together. I figured if there was any intel—you'd find it."
"I'm not sure how to take that." Was he complimenting me or insulting me? "Wait! You tricked me into working for the FBI!"
Riley stood and walked around the breakfast bar. I thought about shooting him but decided instead to set the gun down.
"You're not FBI," he said as he stood unnervingly close to me. "But investigating and espionage are in your blood. You're just like me." Riley reached up and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. "We make a good team."
Steeling myself, I pushed him away. "If we make such a good team, why didn't you share intel with me?"
To be honest, his nearness had a small effect on me. Riley was one of those men who could charm the panties off even the coldest ice queen. I'd be lying if parts of me (which shall remain nameless) didn't react to his touch.
He stepped back, and the spell was broken. "Because this isn't your case. It's ours."
"And the local police, who've been investigating her disappearance? Don't you have to wait to see what they are willing to share?"
Riley grimaced. "We were going to tell them, once we had the laptop."
"Sit…" I pointed back to the barstool. "And let me think about this."
Riley went back to his chair and waited.
On the one hand, I should hand this over to Rex. If I didn't, he'd question my loyalty. In the back of my mind, I've always suspected that Rex was concerned about Riley's presence in my life. He knew about our past relationship, professional and otherwise.
On the other hand, technically, this was a case for the FBI. They investigated spies. They had every right to this information. And lastly—I really, really wanted to know what was going on.
I opted for Team Rex and called to invite him over. Riley frowned, but I figured this was fair. Both agencies would get the intelligence together. I was off the hook. Kind of. I was pretty sure both men wouldn't like this idea.
Rex walked in the door minutes later. His eyebrows went up when he saw Riley, but he said nothing.
"This is Kate Becks' laptop." I opened it up and turned it on. "Since both of you are investigating this case, I figured both of you should have my information at the same time."
Rex and Riley said nothing. Yep. They were mad.
"Riley's with the FBI and investigating Kate because she was a double agent for them."
Riley narrowed his eyes at me but continued his silence.
I pointed at my fiancé. "Rex is investigating the disappearance of a local woman, and I suspect the fires are part of this."
I pulled up the screen with the message and turned it toward them.
"It's steganography," I said.
Riley's eyes grew wide. Rex looked at me curiously, so I explained.
"There are a ton of cat pictures on this. It took me all day to uncover one message. But you—" I pointed at Riley "—should be able to decode the rest fairly quickly."
Riley stood and scooped up the laptop. "Thank you for your assistance.
The FBI appreciates it."
I shook my head. "Nope. You're going to do it here, where Rex and I can see it."
"I can't do that. This whole thing is classified. And you're both civilians," he complained. "No offense."
Rex finally spoke up. "I need to see proof that this is a case for the Feds. I can't turn it over to you until I know for sure." He turned to me. "Where did you get this?"
I had no choice but to tell them both how I broke into the house, found the secret room, and took the computer. Rex listened without questions, but the vein in his forehead told me we'd be discussing this later.
"How did you get in there?" Riley asked. He sounded annoyed. "We left when we saw the police coming."
I shrugged. "You left the front door open. I didn't see you either. You must have been in another room or the garage when I was inside. Does it matter?"
From the wounded look on his face, I was guessing it did. His pride was injured because he'd missed my arrival on the scene. Oh for crying out loud! Men are so ridiculous!
Riley looked from Rex to me. With a sigh he sat back down, opened the laptop, and went to work. I started putting things back in the cupboards. While I knew Riley would be able to decipher the pictures faster than I had, it would still take a while.
Rex sat at the breakfast bar and watched. His silence was unnerving. I wanted to ask about the investigation at the hospital, but I knew he wouldn't say anything in front of Riley. Plus, I didn't want Riley to know about the attack during the sleep study.
These two men were so different, and yet the same. I knew them both intimately. And that was the problem. And furthermore, Rex wanted to marry me. Riley did not. But he was definitely interested in rekindling our romance.
That's where the comparisons ended. Riley was spontaneous and reckless and often lied to me, where Rex was mature, trusting, and safe. At one time, my life fit with Riley's. Being a spy, you rarely go by the book…whatever book that might be.
Now, however, I was more like Rex. Okay, not maturity-wise. But I liked living in my small hometown. I loved my Girl Scout troop and my sometimes-boring life that was sandwiched between dead bodies every now and then.
Rex had been the right choice, and I truly loved him. That didn't mean I still didn't feel all squirmy over Riley whenever he burst into my life. I tried to picture a life with him, but all I came up with was total chaos.
With this realization, I relaxed. My fears about the wedding faded. I knew what I was doing. And I was doing the right thing. I wanted to marry Rex.
The kitchen had been put back together, and Riley was halfway through the pictures. Because silence makes me a bit edgy, I thought of a question I could ask Rex.
"Do you think Kate vanished of her own accord, or is she dead?"
Riley looked up. "If she is alive, I need to find her. But I'm starting to think she's dead."
Rex shook his head. "She's not dead until we find a body."
I pressed on. "In your years of experience, what do you think?"
My fiancé scowled. "My experience tells me that she's alive until proven dead."
I threw my hands up into the air. "What do you need for proof?"
"A body," Rex said again.
"Riley"—I turned to the other man—"how are the Fontanas involved? Are they illegals?"
My former handler studied my fiancé. "I can't say."
There was some sort of male posturing going on here. Like two roosters with puffed-out chests, each trying to take over the henhouse. And that henhouse was me. What did that make Philby, I wondered?
"I think she was spying on the Fontanas," I said at last. "They found out and killed her."
Rex rubbed his eyes. "Merry, I can't work off speculation like that. I need evidence."
"I gave you evidence the other night, when I called you to say I'd seen Mark and Pam with a body," I snapped.
Riley suppressed a grin, but I knew it was there.
"How do the fires link with this?" I asked.
Rex sighed. "We haven't really found any links. All of the arson cases look like they were the work of teenagers with cigarettes. The fire at Kate Becks' house was started with accelerant."
"Teenagers with cigarettes? Are you joking?"
"No. We've found a lighter and cigarettes at each scene. At one of the locations we found a six-pack of cheap beer."
"That doesn't make sense," I mused. "I mean, I can see it happening once with a bunch of kids, but twice?"
"There is another option," Rex reasoned. "That the fires were all set to make it look like the later fire at the Becks house was just another case of arson."
"That sounds more like it," I agreed. "This wouldn't be the first time a criminal committed several crimes to cover one."
Rex nodded.
I turned to the ex-CIA former boyfriend. "But Riley, you still haven't answered my question about the Fontanas."
"I'm busy," he said without looking up from the computer.
"Okay, how about this? Why would there be so many spies in Who's There, Iowa?"
"That's where your case falls apart, Merry," Rex said. "It doesn't make any sense. There isn't anything I can think of that would attract spies, unless it was in Des Moines. And if that was true, why didn't the spies settle there? It's easier to blend into the woodwork in a big city…"
"…but they'd stand out in a small town," I finished.
"I don't think the Fontanas are guilty of anything but living next door to you," Rex said.
"I've got something," Riley announced.
Instead of taking this argument to the next level, we crowded around the screen. We scanned through dozens of messages, all very short. The gist? Kate was convinced that she was being followed. She thought she was in jeopardy. That would explain why she fled.
"Were these messages meant for you?" I asked Riley.
"If so," he answered, "we didn't see them."
"So, it's possible she could've doubled but on the side of the Fontanas. These messages were for them." I pointed to a batch of cat pictures. "What about those?"
Riley waved at the screen. "They're just pictures of her cat. No steganography there."
That made sense, I supposed. My screen saver is an extreme close-up of Philby, staring into the lens on my laptop.
"Let's imagine she's working with the Russians." I waved off Riley when he looked about to protest. "Just spitballing. Could the Fontanas be her contacts?"
Rex said, "Then why kill her?"
"Maybe she was going to start batting for the other side," I suggested. What was with all the baseball metaphors? I didn't watch baseball.
"Or"—Riley rubbed his chin—"the Fontanas are exactly who they say they are and she's referring to the FBI closing in. She probably realized we'd be onto her sooner or later."
"And yet, you missed it," I said smugly.
Riley ignored me. "We aren't investigating your neighbors."
I leaned against the bar. That took the wind out of my sails. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe I was hallucinating. It's been a weird week. Anything was possible. I needed to make another appointment with Susan.
I thought about the phone number I'd gotten at Ferguson Taxidermy. If I handed it over, Riley would know I was attacked, and I didn't want that kind of attention from him. He needed to work with Rex from here on out and leave me alone. I opted to say nothing. After all, I couldn't find out who it belonged to, so they wouldn't be able to either.
"Alright," I said, "if the FBI is following her and she felt threatened, where would she go?"
No one spoke. It looked like I was the one who knew this woman best. She wouldn't go back to her job. They'd go there first. She couldn't go to her house, because it was burned to the ground. Where do you hide in a town like this?
Riley got up and closed the laptop. "Satisfied? I need to talk to my team."
Rex nodded and also stood. "I'd better get back to work."
Oh good. That would postpone the argument I was sure we
were going to have.
As I watched them go, even though they were handling everything now, I couldn't help but wonder about the missing woman. Unlike Rex, I wouldn't rule out that she was dead. That was still on the table. And if she was dead, where was her body? And if she was alive, where was she?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Two days passed with no contact from Riley and very little from Rex. That was fine with me. I was no longer on the case.
Thinking Day had arrived. As Kelly and I stood near our tables on France, the girls—looking adorable in their berets, pink shirts, black pants, and ballet flats—were setting up the craft area.
They really were cute. Betty had arrived wearing a shirt that said Freedom for the Basque People. I thought that was fine because she was right. Kelly made her switch. Betty responded by drawing a mustache over her lip.
"Where'd she get a Sharpie?" I asked as I tried scrubbing it off.
Kelly searched the girl and found the contraband marker in her back pocket.
"This isn't coming off," I said. "She'll just have to wear a mustache."
"Theeez eez moi being zee auzenteec," the girl said in a mangled French accent.
I turned around and realized that all the other girls now had permanent mustaches.
"Zeees eeez zee zoleedarity." Lauren nodded gravely.
Fortunately this time, the facial hair was made with a Bic.
"Let their parents deal with this," I said to Kelly, who looked like she was going to explode.
"But they don't look so cute anymore," my best friend lamented.
"Drop the accents, girls," I said. "People need to understand you."
The girls agreed. They kind of looked grateful.
"Doors are opening in five minutes," a Council member onstage warned. "You've all done a terrific job, ladies!" She spotted Betty with her mustache, and her mouth dropped open.
"Remember…" Kelly gathered the girls around her. "We are here to inform and teach these girls about France. Got it?"
The girls nodded and took up positions. The Kaitlyns would be handing out éclairs and sparkling apple cider to mimic French champagne. The Hannahs were in charge of helping the girls make little flags for the SWAPS. Emily, Caterina, Inez, and Ava were going to teach a little folk dance I suspected they'd made up.
Motto for Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 6) Page 17