Kiss of Death

by Meryl Sawyer

  “A champion? Really?” The woman smiled at Jasper but shook her head.

  “Yep. Best in show at Frankfurt.”

  “The breeder probably listed him. That’s what usually happens.”

  “You’re right. I’ll have to check his file and get the breeder’s name.” Secretly she was thrilled to have another reason to talk to Adam. There was no excuse for what he’d done but something in her longed to forgive him.

  “Good night,” she told the receptionist. “I’ll be starting next week, but if I’m needed sooner, I can come in. Would you tell—”

  “Could you work for me?” The woman almost shouted the question. “My husband’s company’s sending him on a trip to Hawaii. I can’t go unless I can find someone to work—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Oh, great. I owe you one. Come in tomorrow for an hour or so and I’ll show you what to do.” Whitney happily agreed and was halfway back to the minivan when it hit her.

  The Chip.

  Calvin Hunter had used dog shows as a cover for his arms deals. Could he have somehow transferred the information from a regular computer disc to a microchip? She knew the technology was there. Adam’s uncle had once been in naval intelligence. Surely he knew how to do it. That would account for the skin irritation that appeared on Jasper’s neck after he won at Frankfurt.

  She rushed back inside. “Let me use the wand for a moment.”

  The receptionist was turning off lights, but she cheerily replied, “Go ahead. It’s in the drawer in room two. Do you know how to use it?”

  “Yes.” With both dogs in tow, Whitney dashed into the room and found the wand. She had no idea why they called the electronic device the size of a pack of cigarettes a wand, but everyone did. It was a simple mechanism with an on/off switch and an LCD display where the number on the chip inserted behind the pet’s ear came up.

  She hoisted Jasper onto the examining table. Lexi wagged her tail as if expecting to be lifted up, too. Whitney switched on the wand and brushed it across the small bump on the back of Jasper’s neck.

  Letters flashed across the LCD screen. A name—not a number. The chip was supposed to show a number. That number, when put into the chip center’s database, should yield owner information like the pet owner’s address and phone number. She stared at the screen, not quite believing what she was seeing, although she’d suspected she might discover something like this.

  She switched off the wand, replaced it in the drawer. Her insides jangled with excitement. She carefully lifted Jasper off the table. How cruel, she thought. Chipping a dog didn’t hurt the pet, but imagining Jasper needlessly being jabbed with a needle upset her.

  “You’re not just worth thousands,” she told Jasper. “You’re worth millions.”

  The little dog licked her nose.

  ADAM SAT ACROSS THE DESK from Quinten Foley in the older man’s home. It had taken Adam the better part of the afternoon to locate Foley. He’d been on the golf course with his cell phone off. He’d told Foley that he had Calvin Hunter’s laptop and software discs.

  Foley leaned back in his chair and studied Adam. “So, Miranda Marshall is in Cancún. She had the computer all along.”

  Adam didn’t respond, but he gave Foley credit. He must have had them followed. “She’s long gone now,” Adam said to protect Miranda. “She gave me his computer. It’s going to take an expert to find the information.”

  “You tried?”

  “Yes, but I’m just your average guy. No expert. I figure it’s embedded somewhere. In Iraq the guys showed me how to access porn sites. Go to a seemingly innocent site and click on some part of the picture that comes up. Bam! A screen concealed behind the picture appears. Give your password—and if you’ve paid your money, you’re into an orgy of porn.”

  “Exactly. Kiddie porn is often accessed by clicking on a chicken in a barnyard scene. Chicken-hawkers love the irony.” Foley leaned forward and put both elbows on his desk. “You think Cal hid information like that?”

  “Must be. I can’t find any sign of it. Maybe if your guys—”

  “I’ll see if I can locate someone to—”

  Adam shoved the laptop in the case with the software programs across the desk. “Don’t bother to bullshit me. We haven’t got the time. I know you work at the Pentagon. CIA?”

  “No,” Foley replied after an emotion-charged silence. “I’m with a special unit of Homeland Security.”

  Adam didn’t have a whole lot of faith in Homeland Security but hey, maybe it was just him. Right now, he didn’t have anyone else to turn to but Foley. Adam didn’t even know if the terrorists had a phony disc and would return—mad as hell—for the real one. He assumed that was what would happen—but who knew.

  “Operatives are expecting to pick up the disc with the info on it next week,” he informed Foley. “We’re not sure if they realize my uncle is dead or not. Even if they do, they’re planning to wire transfer a shitload of money. I’m betting they’ll show, expecting Miranda to deliver the disc.”

  “Why would they think she—”

  “Miranda met them at my uncle’s home. He convinced them that she was his partner.”

  Foley unzipped the computer case and ran his hand lovingly over the lid of the laptop. “This is a chance to catch them.”

  “Absolutely. But we’d better have something to give them. These aren’t just couriers. They’re high-ranking terrorists. I’m sure they’ll have a laptop with them to scan the disc to make certain they have what they paid for.”

  “You’re right. We’re going to need Miranda here. Can you—”

  A thunderous banging on the front door interrupted Foley. Adam instinctively grabbed the computer case, zipped it shut and hid it between the desk and the wall.

  “I’ll get rid of whoever it is. Probably Jehovah’s Witnesses. They’ve been working the neighborhood.”

  Adam heard the front door open followed by the sound of Tyler’s voice. “What’s Adam doing here?” Tyler asked in a belligerent tone.

  Quinten Foley responded, “We’re discussing his uncle’s estate.”

  The sound of footsteps meant they were coming toward the office. Adam stood up and tried for a welcoming smile. His brain kept insisting: There’s no time to waste. “Hey, Tyler, how’s it going?”

  Beside his partner stood Holly. Adam hadn’t seen her for nearly three years, but she was still as pretty as ever. Long shiny brown hair, sparkling amber eyes. “Holly, you’re looking great.”

  “Hello, Adam,” she replied with the warm smile he remembered so well. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Trust me, I’m happy to be back in the States.” He smiled at her but made sure he also smiled at Tyler. Adam didn’t want his best friend to think he was hitting on his girl.

  A troubling silence followed. Adam looked at Quinten Foley, who was now behind his desk again. The older man didn’t seem inclined to say much.

  “We didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tyler said, his voice tight. “But I have something to say to my father.”

  “I’ll go in the other room,” offered Adam. Normally, he would have left the house, but every minute counted.

  “Don’t bother. This isn’t secret stuff.” Tyler faced his father. “Holly is very upset with me. She thinks I don’t love her because I don’t make any effort to have my family get to know her.”

  Adam shifted uncomfortably. This sounded a helluva lot more personal than he’d anticipated.

  “Th-that’s not true,” Quinten Foley awkwardly replied.

  “Holly’s family is one of those close-knit groups. They spend time together and expect to get to know their daughter’s boyfriend.” Tyler gazed at Holly, and she smiled back. Adam could see they loved each other. He couldn’t help thinking about Whitney. Aw, hell. Despite the short length of time he’d known Whitney, Adam realized he loved her. But he’d royally blown it.

  “I EXPLAINED TO HOLLY that we aren’t close,” Tyler told his father, unable to conceal hi
s bitterness. “I hardly know you. We never see each other even when you’re in town. Isn’t that right?”

  His father responded without a trace of regret or concern. “I’m a busy—”

  “He’s always been too busy for me,” Tyler said to Holly. “Even after my mother killed herself, he didn’t have a second to spare for his only child. I was shuttled off to military school.”

  “That’s not fair. I—”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ve learned to live with it. I just wanted Holly to understand our family. Not asking her to spend time with you isn’t a reflection on her. It’s about us.” Tyler was on the verge of shouting now, but he couldn’t help himself. Years of pent-up anger exploded out of him. He felt Holly’s restraining hand on his arm and lowered his voice. “Holly can’t expect to get to know you when I don’t.”

  In the bruising silence that followed Tyler stared at his father. Until this morning, when he’d confronted Holly, half expecting her to tell him that she wanted to end their relationship, Tyler had believed money was keeping them apart. She’d made him realize his mistake.

  The old saying about money not buying you love was true. Holly cared about him and had since they began dating—when he’d had nothing but prospects. His father could take his money and rot in hell for all he cared. The company he had started with Adam was off to an awesome start. He wanted to look back and know he’d built it on his own. He wanted Holly to understand that he was a man she could be proud of.

  “I don’t need you,” Tyler told his father as he slipped his arm around Holly and pulled her against his side. “But I need Holly. If she’ll have me—” he turned his attention to Holly “—I want to marry her.”

  “Oh my gosh!” cried Holly. “You want to get married?”

  “Of course.” What did she think their discussion this morning had been about? True, he’d asked her where she’d been, and she said she’d gone to Newport Beach to visit her parents. But he’d asked what was wrong and she’d told him that she didn’t think he was serious about her because he’d never allowed her to get to know his family.

  “You never mentioned marriage,” Holly said softly.

  “Hey! That’s great.” Adam slapped him on the back. “Holly’s a great gal. The best, and you’re the best friend a guy could have. You deserve to be happy.” He smiled at Holly. “Both of you.”

  “Maybe we ought to go somewhere and talk about this,” Holly suggested in a high-pitched, excited voice.

  “You’re right. Let’s get outta here.” Tyler couldn’t keep the excitement out of his own voice. As angry as he’d been a few minutes ago, now he was happier than he could ever remember being.

  ADAM WATCHED THEM LEAVE, his mind on Whitney. He was thrilled for his friend and knew things would work out. What he needed to do was tell Whitney he loved her. Admit he’d made a huge mistake by not trusting her with more information about his uncle and an even worse mistake by not telling her the truth about Lexi. Then he’d tell her how much he loved her. True, they hadn’t known each other long, but he was positive about his feelings.

  “Where were we?” Quinten Foley asked, as if nothing important had happened.

  Foley was a tough man focused on his career. A lot like his uncle, Adam guessed. Too late, Calvin Hunter had found someone to love and had realized he wanted a life.

  “You know, I had a close relationship with my father. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”

  Foley nodded, but Adam had the feeling the man was just humoring him. He wouldn’t have bothered except he could see how upset Tyler was by his father’s attitude. Even with Holly’s love there would be a void in Tyler’s life unless his father had an attitude adjustment.

  “My uncle found someone to love but he died before he could enjoy life with her. My own father died at an early age.” Adam watched Foley’s eyes narrow slightly. The man was listening, but it was impossible to tell if Adam’s words were having any impact. “I was almost killed in Iraq. Both guys beside me died, but by some miracle I lived. I know what’s important in life—and it isn’t money.”

  “I have a job, duty—”

  “Is that all you’re living for?”

  “Of course not,” Foley assured him.

  “You made a lot of money off the arms sales. Money must mean—”

  “I was working undercover for the government the whole time. I never made a dime beyond my salary.”

  Shock thrummed through Adam’s brain. From what Miranda had said, Adam had gathered Foley was a government agent and one trusted by his uncle. But Adam believed Quinten Foley had made a ton of money dealing arms on the side. It was difficult to believe the man hadn’t profited from selling contraband weapons.

  “I did it all for my country,” Foley said.

  Kicking himself for assuming the worst, Adam asked, “What about Tyler?”

  Foley’s world-weary eyes were tempered by a face that revealed no emotion nor gave any hint of his inner thoughts. The older man seemed to consider the question for a long moment as if he had to come to grips with it. “I care about my son, sure. I loved his mother—” Foley turned away and walked to the window overlooking the swimming pool. In a very soft voice that bordered on a whisper, he added, “I didn’t just love Claire. I worshipped her. When she killed herself, I couldn’t bear to look at Tyler.” He turned back to Adam. “He has her eyes, you know, her animated smile.”

  Adam felt a pang of sympathy. “My dad loved my mother. I look a lot like her, but he didn’t give up on me.” This was stretching the truth a bit. He did have his mother’s hair but he looked more like his father. He was willing to fudge a little, if it could help his friend. “I am what I am—because he loved me.”

  “I never understood why Claire killed herself. She seemed a little depressed because we moved so often. I—”

  “That was years ago. What about Tyler? Would your wife want you to treat him like this?”

  “She loved Tyler. Her suicide note said, ‘Love him for me.’ I just couldn’t—still can’t—be around him without thinking of her.”

  “Get over it. Life goes on. I’m betting Tyler and Holly get married soon and have children. Don’t you want to be part of their lives?”

  “Yes, but I’m not sure I know how to act. I guess I could try. Invite them to dinner or something.”

  “That’s a start.” Adam reached over and picked up the telephone. He dialed Tyler’s cell number, then handed Quinten Foley the receiver.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  WHITNEY CLIMBED THE stairs to the white silk bedroom overlooking the ocean. The sun had dropped into the sea, leaving behind a faint glow of tangerine light that would quickly be consumed by darkness. She was dead tired but she didn’t want to go to sleep until she’d spoken to Adam. As soon as she left the vet’s, she’d tried to call him, but his cell phone’s voice mail immediately picked up.

  She’d swung by Calvin Hunter’s home, thinking Adam might have shut off his phone and gone to bed early. He had to be even more tired than she was. He’d worked while she’d napped on Miranda’s sofa.

  Adam hadn’t been there. She left him notes in several places so he couldn’t miss the message. She’d been afraid to put in writing what she found. The notes said to call her—it was an emergency.

  Whitney could have left Jasper there for Adam, but she told him in each note that she had the dog. She doubted anyone else knew the Chinese crested was carrying such valuable information, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Jasper was safer with her.

  Earlier she’d deposited two soft-sided suitcases containing her clothes just outside the double walk-in closets in the master bedroom. Jasper and Lexi followed her when she inspected the closets and found one was empty. She placed her suitcases on the floor inside the empty closet, but didn’t have the energy to unpack what little she had.

  Whitney thought a dip in the pool might refresh her and keep her awake until Adam called. She put on the swimsuit she’d hurriedly bought to g
o to Cancún and had never worn. She smiled inwardly, remembering the man from Adam’s security company. Adam had insisted the man should go along to guard her. He’d been more than a little embarrassed to be hanging around Skinny Dip while she tried on suits.

  Now that she looked back on it, Whitney decided she was stronger than she sometimes believed. Instinct had launched her at the fence. That quick action had saved her life. She shouldn’t have allowed the incident to cause an emotional meltdown. After the way she’d freaked out, no wonder Adam hadn’t wanted to tell her about his uncle. She could almost forgive him.

  Almost.

  If only he’d revealed Ashley’s part in Lexi’s disappearance, Whitney might have been more forgiving. But he hadn’t. It said a lot about his character, she reminded herself. It told her even more about their relationship.

  “Come on, gang,” she said to Jasper and Lexi. “It’s chow time.”

  They scampered behind her as she went down the sweeping staircase. After stopping to leave the notes for Adam, she’d swung by the supermarket and charged some necessities. While the dogs ate, she unpacked the groceries and put them away.

  Inside the walk-in pantry, she froze. What was that? It sounded like a thump. The nearest house was too far for her to hear anything. She listened, attempting to detect something else over the crunching sounds of the dogs eating. Her hand shook when she eased the pantry door back so she could have a better look. She peeked out and saw the dogs with their noses in the fancy dishes that she was using for their bowls. Obviously, they hadn’t heard a thing.

  What a sniveling display of shredded nerves you are.

  Every house had its own special sounds, she assured herself. She would just have to get used to this one. She could put on the alarm, but Adam might drop by without calling. She scribbled a note, saying she was in the pool, and taped it to the front door.

  When she returned to the kitchen, the dogs had finished eating. “Come on,” she told them, and they followed her out to the pool. Since the area was new to them, the dogs engaged in a sniff-fest. By the way they were hovering around the low-hanging bushes, Whitney guessed another dog had been out here recently.