Killer Within

by Jeff Gunhus

  Fortunately or unfortunately, he still couldn’t decide, the rational side of his brain had slowed down the momentum of action and forced his feet a step back from the groaning and bleeding man.

  “If Allison so much as sees you again, I’m going to come find you and shove this crutch up your ass. I will beat you senseless, do you understand?” Charlie shouted, feeling very much like he was in one of the action movies he spent most of his spare time watching.

  It felt good at the time, but now, hours later, sitting on the bench next to Ego Alley, looking out over the water and waiting for a call back from Arnie, he doubted Gerty would even remember how he came by the broken nose and bum knee when he woke up the next morning. He wondered if he should have done more.

  Compounding his building guilt that he might have taken it too easy on Gerty, he had too much time to think whether he was doing the right thing in giving the new information to Arnie. After he’d ditched Gerty, Charlie had almost called Arnie’s cell number right away, but he had stopped himself. For the last hour, Charlie had wondered if he shouldn’t just keep his night of detective work to himself.

  The phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out. It read “blocked call,” but there was only one person who would be calling him this early in the morning.

  He held the phone in front of him, watching the faceplate glow in the early morning light.

  The right thing for Allison was to let the phone keep ringing.

  “And what’s the right thing for Charlie?” he asked the ducks bobbing in the water next to him. “Which way does old Charlie have a better chance to get the girl?”

  That was the heart of it. He knew it was. Somewhere inside he held out hope that he still had a chance with Allison. Certainly, given this new information, a crusty old dude like Milhouse would turn tail and drop Allison, leaving him an opening. Not a large opening since she wasn’t interested in him at all, but a hell of a lot bigger opening than if Allison was still dating the weird millionaire. Stranger things had happened in the world than a girl changing her mind about something. Maybe, Charlie thought, with Arnie out of the picture, he could help Allison change hers.

  Charlie suppressed his surging guilt, answered the call, and told a very interested Arnie Milhouse everything he knew about Allison McNeil. No sooner had he hung up the phone than he sensed he’d just made a huge mistake.

  CHAPTER 33

  That afternoon, Allison sat in her room at the Calvert House, thinking through the courses of action available to her. Richard had checked into another room to grab a shower and a power nap. Arnie was not due back in town until that night, so Allison knew she had some time left to figure out what she was going to do. She was still reeling from the deadline put on her by Mason. How could she be expected to bring things to a head in two days? It seemed impossible, especially with Arnie gone for one of those days.

  Her phone vibrated on the nightstand next to her. She felt a surge of hope that it was Richard. She followed the unbidden thought by a grunt of disapproval. Richard was all wrong for her, 100 percent. Still, being around him again had rekindled some of the old fire that had driven their relationship; add one part antagonism, three parts pain in the ass, and you had Richard. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand her attraction to him. But it was there. Whenever she found herself shaking her head in disbelief that she had ever been with the arrogant bastard, a small corner of her mind couldn’t believe she had given him up. Perpetual bad choices in men—that, Allison decided, was her lot in life whether she liked it or not. She answered the phone.

  “Hey, Allison. It’s Arnie Milhouse.”

  “Arnie. Where are you?” she asked, already mentally preparing herself in case he was downstairs at the inn.

  “Still at the airport. My flight leaves in an hour.”

  “Was it hard to get through security?”

  “No, it wasn’t too bad,” Arnie said.

  “Really? I got a real going-over the last time I flew. Where are you?” Allison bit her lower lip, hoping she sounded natural enough.

  There was a pause on the line; then Arnie came through, choppy now. “I’m losing you. Bad reception in airports, you know. Let me try . . . there, that’s better. Can you hear me now?”

  “Yeah, where are you?”

  “I’ll be back early tonight, but I have work to do . . . tomorrow ni . . . together?”

  “Arnie, you’re breaking up again.”

  “Shit, goddamn phones.”

  “I heard that loud and clear,” Allison said, and laughed.

  “Sorry. Before I lose you again. Dinner. My house. Tomorrow at eight?”

  “Done.”

  “Do you know where it’s at?”

  “Somewhere by St. Michaels, I think, is what you told me, right?” Allison said. Actually, she knew exactly where it was located. She’d taken surveillance photos from all around the property during the past two weeks. She asked him to hold on and pretended to search for a pen to write down directions. Arnie recited the directions for her twice.

  “Right then, eight o’clock tomorrow,” Arnie said. “They’re calling my flight; gotta run.”

  Allison held a finger to her other ear and listened hard to the background noise coming from the phone. Faintly, she heard a tiny voice over the PA say, “. . . final boarding call for flight 2514 Miami to Reagan National Airport.”

  Allison smiled and jotted down the city and flight number on the stationery in front of her.

  “OK. Have a good flight, Arnie. See you tomorrow.”

  She closed the phone, picked up the hotel phone, and dialed Richard’s number. He picked up after one ring, but she could still hear the sleep in his voice.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Who’s sleeping?” he said, clearing his voice.

  “Give me a break, Super Cop,” Allison said. “Listen, Arnie just called.”

  Richard cleared his throat. “What did he say? Where was he?”

  “Miami. Flight 2514.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “No. I heard the flight called over the PA system.”

  “Good work,” Richard said, still managing to sound patronizing even in his groggy state. “What else did he say?”

  “I have a dinner date tomorrow night.”

  “Where?”

  “At his house.”

  Richard was silent for a few moments. Allison smoothed out the wrinkles on the bed. She wondered which Richard was doing the thinking: the agent-in-charge trying to decide on tactics or the man whose ex-girlfriend had just been asked to dinner by a millionaire who was also a potential serial killer.

  “I don’t like it,” Richard said. “If he’s leaving in two days, why would he pursue you like this? Doesn’t feel right.”

  “Does it matter?” Allison said. “If he is running, we just have to be glad he’s not shutting me out. This will get me inside the house and give me a chance to check things out. Maybe the only chance we’re going to get.”

  “What time are you supposed to be over there?”

  “Seven tomorrow night.”

  “All right. I’ll make some calls. If you’re going to do this, I need to do some work to make sure we have the support in the area.”

  “I thought Mason said—”

  “I’ve run this kind of thing for Mason before. I know how to handle it. I’ll call you later.”

  Allison held the phone out in front of her as it blared a dial tone. “Good-bye to you too,” she mumbled.

  As she put the phone back on the cradle, a chill crawled up her spine. She wasn’t sure whether it was from the knowledge that in a little more than twenty-four hours she would be having dinner with the man she suspected of being a serial killer, or whether it was from the last thing Richard had said.

  I’ve run this kind of thing for Mason
before. I know how to handle it.

  She wondered what kind of “thing” she was involved in. And, more importantly, she was starting to suspect that she was the one being handled.

  She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes until she was supposed to meet Charlie down at City Dock Café. He had called that morning saying it was urgent they meet, but he hadn’t been willing to say why. With Arnie gone, she figured it would do her good to be around Charlie for a little bit to take her mind off things. He was always good for a laugh or two. And that was exactly what she needed to calm her nerves.

  CHAPTER 34

  “You what?”

  Charlie flinched as if Allison had thrown something at him. “Keep your voice down. People are staring.”

  “I don’t care if people are staring,” she said, although she did lower her voice. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I know; I’m sorry. I know it was wrong. Right when I got off the phone, I knew it. That’s why I’m telling you now,” he added, hoping for some salvation in this fact. He figured Allison would be angry with him for spying on her, but she was more than angry. For some reason she looked scared too.

  “Outside. C’mon, we need to talk.”

  Charlie shook his head. “Let’s just stay here.” He figured that however mad she got, being inside would at least keep her from yelling at him. But the look on her face told him that he didn’t have a vote in the matter.

  “Outside. Now.”

  Once they were away from the milling crowds of tourists snapping pictures of the power yachts and sailboats moored along Ego Alley, Allison sat him down on a bench.

  “Listen, Charlie, this is real important. I’m not mad at you—”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “OK. So I’m a little mad at you. But that’s not important right now. I need you to concentrate, all right?”

  Charlie nodded.

  “Good. Now, I need you to tell me everything you told Arnie, all right? I mean every detail, got it?”

  “Sure,” Charlie stammered, a little freaked out by her intensity. “I got it. I mean, it’s not like I told him that much. He asked me to keep an eye on you while he was out of town. Gave me three hundred dollars.”

  “OK, that’s fine, but what did you tell him?”

  This confession wasn’t going at all the way he had planned. He figured she would be a little mad at him but also embarrassed for lying to him too. It didn’t seem like she had given that part of the equation a second thought, and it kind of pissed him off. He decided to make things a little easier on himself.

  “All I told him was that I saw you at McGarvey’s, that some guy was hassling you, and next thing I knew you left the bar and were getting into some other guy’s car.”

  “What else?”

  “Nothing, I—”

  “Charlie, this is very important, all right? Did you describe the person I left with?”

  “No,” Charlie answered too quickly. He wished he could roll back the clock, big time, and make this whole confession go away. The guilt had been bad, but now he felt like crap and still felt guilty for lying to her again. But given the way she had reacted so far, there was no way he was going to tell her what else he had found out. Although he wished there was some way he could tell her about him pounding on Craig Gerty. He wondered if that might make her forgive him a little.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I swear on my mother’s grave that was all I told him. What do you want from me?” Charlie pointed a finger at her. “Besides, you’re not Ms. Innocent in all this. How about you tell me what your deal is? You tell everyone you’ve never been to Annapolis before but turns out you spent some time at the academy. What’s up with that?”

  “Shit. Goddammit,” Allison mumbled. “How’d you find that out?”

  “Gerty told me.”

  Allison sucked in a sharp breath and got to her feet. He looked down to her clenched fists, wondering whether he was about to suffer another beating. Allison seemed to notice and relaxed her hands, looking more in control. “Was anyone else around?”

  Charlie shook his head. “No, just me.”

  Allison crouched down until her eyes were level with Charlie’s. “Did you tell Arnie?”

  “No, I didn’t,” Charlie said, breezing through the lie without flinching. Lying to women was one thing he had mastered throughout the years, and he was sure she couldn’t detect it. “I swear.”

  Allison reached out and turned his face toward her. “This is really important.”

  “I swear,” Charlie cried. “Cross my heart, all that stuff.”

  Allison held his face in place and studied his eyes. After a beat, she let go. “OK, Charlie. I believe you.”

  “So, you gonna tell me what’s going on, or what?”

  Allison stood with her back to him for a few seconds, then turned around. “All right, but you have to promise to keep it quiet.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’m an investigative reporter for the Washington Post. Arnie Milhouse has been implicated in a complex investment fraud case with ties to organized crime.”

  “Holy shit. You mean like the mafia. Like The Sopranos?”

  “You got it. I’m not positive Arnie is guilty, but that’s why I’m here. That’s why all the secrecy. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I was trying to protect you.”

  Charlie gulped down his sudden desire to tell her everything. He knew it was the right thing to do, but she was finally calming down. He couldn’t bear the thought of how she would react if he told her that Arnie knew her real name, or the fact that she not only attended the Naval Academy but the reason for her leaving.

  He was a complete shit for not telling her and he knew it.

  But even as they got up and went for a walk, even as Allison made him agree to leave town for a couple of days until her investigation was complete, even then he did absolutely nothing about it. He didn’t come clean and tell her the truth. He was not even honest with her that he had no intention of leaving. And he especially made a point not to tell her that he had a meeting scheduled with Arnie that night, which he had every intention of keeping. If he was going to carry the guilt of playing Judas, he was at least going to take the money the son of a bitch owed him.

  Allison left Charlie and headed back to the Calvert House. She considered not telling Richard what had happened, but she knew that was unfair. Regardless of their personal history, Richard was her partner on this case. Withholding information like this, information that potentially changed the risk calculus so dramatically, was not only unprofessional but unethical.

  She still believed her cover was intact, but there was a doubt now. Although his denials seemed genuine enough, Charlie may have told Arnie more than he let on and that would change everything.

  If Arnie was the killer she suspected and he knew who she really was, his invitation to dinner had all the makings of a trap.

  CHAPTER 35

  Arnie sat on a park bench on the State House grounds across the street from the Calvert House. He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses and pretended to read a newspaper while taking particular interest in the comings and goings of Allison McNeil.

  In his pocket was a small digital recorder on which the sounds from Miami International Airport were stored, recorded yesterday before his flight home and recently used to make Allison believe he was still out of town.

  Arnie waited a few minutes to make sure Allison did not reappear from the Calvert House, then stood, stretched his legs, and walked around to the back of the capitol building where his car was parked. He would get a sense soon enough of how much Allison and the FBI knew or suspected. With a three-hour window of Arnie supposedly on a plane from Miami, they could execute a search of his house and lock it down under surveillance. If they really had something on him, the FBI would swarm his property within the hour. But if A
llison was just playing a hunch, which he suspected she was, then that was a different story all together. If no one showed up at his house, then he had a dinner date to prepare for.

  He knew it was reckless. The FBI could track his flight to make sure he was on board. But he didn’t think they would. He’d already told them where to find him the next night and so tracking him from the airport was overkill. Unless they had hard evidence against him. In that case they’d be all over his house either way, and he’d be able to adjust his plans accordingly. No, he thought he was in a pretty good position. Still, the undoubtedly smart thing to do was walk away from the whole mess as soon as possible. Call Giancarlo and get the hell out of the country.

  But he didn’t want to escape. If there was a way to play the game out, he had to do it. All he could think about was the rush he’d feel if he were to pull off a kill right under the FBI’s nose. And worse, how it would feel to slink away like some beaten dog, succumbing to fear and weakness.

  Still, there was a difference between taking a risk and being a fool. The cameras on his property would tell him everything he needed to know during the next few hours. Until then, he decided to drive up toward Baltimore for some supplies. He had a lot to do in order to get ready for the big date, already just over twenty-four hours away. And he wanted to be sure he was ready to give Allison McNeil the welcome she deserved.

  CHAPTER 36

  Late that night, they were still undecided about their course of action. As Allison predicted, Richard was adamantly opposed to the idea of her meeting Arnie at his home and was ready to call the whole thing off as soon as she related her conversation with Charlie.