by David Thurlo
“I think I may have annoyed your bookkeeper,” Charlie said softly, his hands out, palms up. “Sorry for interrupting your work.”
“What did you say to her anyway?” Max asked, rising to his feet, his face flushed. “Anna is part of our team and she deserves respect.”
“It’s okay, Max. There are some additional things I need to tell you about our bookkeeper,” Patricia said softly, rolling her chair closer to his desk.
Charlie nodded, standing to one side, his eyes on the door to Anna’s office. He had to be patient if this was going to work. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long.
Less than three minutes went by, then he heard a click and Anna’s door opened about a foot. She looked out into the office. “I’m sorry and I want to apologize, Charlie. You were just looking for anything that might help us solve Nathan’s murder. Let’s see if this can get us to that cloud we’ve all been curious about,” she added.
Charlie was surprised, but tried not to show it. The plan wasn’t working. Were they wrong about Anna?
Then she stepped into the room, pointing a revolver right at him. “Nobody move until I say so,” she ordered coldly. “And you, Charlie, remove the pistol from your belt with two fingers of your left hand and set it on that chair.” She nodded toward a wooden chair positioned against the wall beside her office entrance.
“So you accessed the site and looked at the file. Didn’t like what you saw, huh?”
“You set me up. Now get rid of your gun, slowly. I’m not going to deliberately miss this time,” Anna said.
Charlie complied, seeing the anger in Anna’s eyes and hoping her survival instincts would keep her from exploding completely. He would never be able to clear his weapon in time, and she was too far away for him to grab the revolver. Dropping to the floor without cover was a bad move as well, and any shots fired could hit Patricia or Max. He’d stupidly followed his hopes instead of his instincts. The good news was there was backup outside, hearing every word.
“Lock the door, Max,” Anna ordered, nodding toward the main entrance to Back Up. “And if you make the wrong move, I’ll shoot your new office help,” she added, nodding toward Patricia.
“Sure, Anna. But why are you doing this? Did you kill Nathan?” Max said.
She didn’t respond, her pistol still directed at Charlie as Max locked the door. “Now sit back down, Max. And you, Charlie, remove your cell phone and toss it into the wastebasket between the desks. Activate anything and I’ll shoot Patricia,” she added, shifting her aim back and forth between him and the shocked woman still seated at her desk.
He did as she asked, then waited patiently as Patricia and Max were required to do the same with their phones.
“What are you going to do, Anna? We don’t know anything that could hurt you, not…” Patricia pleaded.
“Until now, sweetie? Just stay calm and don’t do anything stupid and you’ll be just fine. All you have to do is make sure Charlie and I can get out of here with a minimum of interference. First thing, disconnect the office phone cords and use one of them to tie Max’s ankles together. Do it tightly, with the knots in the back, by his heels.”
Soon Patricia and Max were on the floor, her tying his legs together at the ankles. Within a few minutes, she was done. “Now sit back down, Patricia. And you, Max, scoot your flabby butt against the wall and sit there. Don’t move, or you know what will happen next.”
Anna turned to face Charlie, who she’d kept well out of reach. “Okay, Indian scout, take off your jacket and shirt.”
“Seriously? I didn’t think you liked me,” Charlie replied.
“I’m immune to your muscles,” Anna replied. “Trust me, you aren’t that hot.”
He slowly started to remove his jacket. “But I’m a little hot, right?”
“God. Hurry up. Okay, now the shirt.”
Charlie did as she asked. “Okay, now it’s your turn, Anna.”
“I’m so tempted to shoot you and really mess up that six-pack,” Anna said. “Turn around slowly. If I find out you’re wired…”
“You’re making me blush.”
“How can you tell?” Anna asked.
“Notice my native-born tan? I’m always blushing,” Charlie said, hoping to stall as long as possible. Gordon and Nancy already had plenty of time to get into position.
“Just shut up. Now, Patricia, check and see if the duct tape we use for packages is still in your bottom drawer. Good, now take that over to Max and sit down in front of him. He’s going to tape your feet together, then you’ll tape his hands together at the wrists. Charlie will tape your hands after that. Got it, everyone?”
A few minutes later, Patricia and Max were sitting against the wall.
“Okay, Charlie, put on your shirt.”
“Disappointed?” Charlie said, slowly going through the motions, but not wanting to piss her off by showing a deliberate stall.
A minute later, she looked out the small window into the parking area. “Looks clear. Now you and I are going outside to my car, Charlie. Here are my keys,” she said. “If you do anything stupid I’ll shoot you, then come back and get rid of these witnesses as well. If anyone is outside waiting to jump or shoot me, I’ll put a bullet in the back of your head. Understand?”
* * *
Charlie drove slowly through the older residential neighborhood just east of the remodeled Winrock Shopping Center, glancing in the rearview mirror. Anna was seated in back on the opposite side, where she could see and shoot him through the gap in the seats. He’d avoided looking in the side mirrors for Gordon and Nancy, hoping that they wouldn’t tip their hand too early.
“Where are we going, anyway? If you’re planning to leave the city, we’re heading in the wrong direction. North or south is quicker.”
“Pull into the driveway of that white house on the left, 1013,” Anna said, ignoring his comment. She’d calmed down once they were mobile, and he no longer felt like he was in danger of being shot. Anna just wanted to get away.
“A two-car garage, in this neighborhood? Buy this with the money you skimmed from Back Up?” He looked in the rearview mirror and saw she was holding a garage door remote.
“It’s not my house, stupid,” she muttered, this time with a hint of a grin. The garage door opened, revealing a white, full-sized Ford sedan parked in the right side of the garage. “Pull into the garage, and be careful not to bump into anything. I’ll have the pistol barrel in your back, and any sudden jerk and my finger will squeeze the trigger. You’ve made it this far, Charlie, and if you play your cards right, you’ll survive to annoy some other unfortunate woman.”
They sat there in the garage for several seconds, the lights on, then she climbed out of the passenger side, never taking her aim away from him. His own Beretta was in her jacket pocket, well out of reach, and from the angle, seated behind the steering wheel, his chances of making a move were limited.
“Stay!” she ordered, walking around the back of the car, then coming up behind him on the driver’s side. “Now, get out, slowly.”
Charlie sat there, hoping to stall a little longer, looking around and noting that Sheetrock had been attached to the inside wall of the garage, but only halfway up. The job hadn’t been finished. On the right side, away from the house, the wallboard was only four feet high. In the rear of the garage was a counter that ran along the wall, and above, several empty shelves. He was searching for any kind of tools that might serve as a weapon. “What about the keys? Won’t you need them?”
“You’re so thoughtful, Charlie, nice-looking too, and smart. We could have made a good couple, if you’d only been a little more … dishonest. You’re not the love them and leave them type. I’ve seen the way you look at Ruth. Just be careful, though, for the next few minutes, if you ever want to see her—or anything—again.”
“You killed Nathan because he dumped you, is that it? Stealing from him wasn’t enough?” he said, then immediately realized that was a stupid thing to bring up this la
te in the game. If he was shot, she might also discover the wire he was wearing.
“Keep pushing and I’ll change my mind about letting you live,” she uttered, cocking the hammer on her revolver.
“Sorry. Remember, no noise. A gunshot will gather way too much attention,” he urged. “Don’t blow your getaway by blowing me away.’
“Just get out, asshole, and stand over in that corner, facing the wall.” She nodded toward the left corner of the garage in front of the car. It was just a few steps from the door leading into the house. “That door is locked, so forget about ducking inside. If you turn around and look at me, your tight ass is going to be hamburger and your voice will go up a whole octave.”
“Damn. A minute ago, I thought you were finally starting to appreciate me,” Charlie said, making sure he followed her instructions to the letter. So far, so good. He’d never been afraid during actual combat, only before and after, but this time he wanted to live more than ever. He was looking ahead to a future with Ruth, and now was no time to take unnecessary risks.
“Stay still, don’t get killed,” Anna said, walking away. He listened carefully, then heard what sounded like keys. More footsteps headed to his right, then he heard a loud snap, a paper or cardboard crunch. His memory bank of early construction projects suggested she was tearing away some of the Sheetrock.
The money she’s skimmed, he realized. She was gathering up her stash.
“You’re going to hear me getting into the car, Charlie, but the window is down and I’ll have my revolver aimed at your back. Just stay put. Once I back out, I’ll lower the door. Then we’ll both be on our own.”
Chapter Twenty-one
He stayed put. As the noise of the motor raising the garage door started up, Charlie heard a faint thump overhead. Somebody was on the roof. He held his breath, hoping Anna hadn’t noticed.
Anna started the Ford’s engine, and when the door mechanism stopped, he heard the crunch of tires on the concrete garage floor as she backed out of the garage.
“Stop the car and lower the weapon!” Nancy yelled from somewhere close by.
Charlie spun around and dove to his left, out of Anna’s view.
“Do it!” Gordon yelled from above.
Charlie rose to his knees, eyeing the gap on his side of the garage beyond Anna’s gold sedan. He thought about it a second before realizing that running outside now could get him shot by a jumpy cop.
Tires squealed and he saw an APD cruiser pulling into the driveway, blocking Anna’s escape car. A uniformed officer raced up to the passenger side, riot gun aimed through the open window. The cop glanced over and saw Charlie, who held up his hands to show he was unarmed. The cop nodded, his weapon still aimed at Anna.
Charlie remained low as Nancy came up, handgun ready, and took Anna’s revolver. “Now turn off the engine and step out. Keep your hands where I can see them,” Nancy added.
Anna turned off the engine.
“She has my Beretta somewhere,” Charlie said, standing up and stepping out of the garage.
“It’s on the passenger seat,” the officer with the shotgun said.
“Don’t shoot,” Anna said, lifting her hands off the steering wheel, palms up. “I’m going to open the door.”
Once Anna climbed out, she turned, hands behind her back, as Nancy put on the cuffs.
“You okay, pal?” Gordon asked.
Charlie turned around and looked up at his friend, who was crouched, pistol in hand, on the garage roof.
”Yeah,” Charlie answered. “Thought it might be you up there, light on your feet. My new guardian angel.”
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,” Gordon joked, holstering his handgun. “Now I’ve got to find an easy way back down. That peach tree I climbed was scratchy.”
Charlie looked into the garage. “There’s a ladder in here. I’ll bring it out.”
“That’ll do.”
As Charlie moved the ladder against the side of the garage, he turned his head and saw Anna being placed in the cop car.
“Any idea what’s in the dusty gym bag, Charlie?” Nancy called out, looking into the interior of Anna’s Ford. “Money? An escape kit?”
“Probably some of the cash she skimmed from Back Up.” He turned and pointed into the garage. “It was hidden behind that busted Sheetrock. I wasn’t looking, but I heard her break it loose.”
Nancy nodded, then came over and gave him a handshake that turned into a hug. “You did a great job, Charlie, and I’m glad you kept it together. I’m sure she killed Nathan, and I was afraid you were next,” she added, stepping back. “She almost lost it for a moment.”
“Yeah, accusing her of killing Nathan was a dumb thing to say at the time. Oh, is the bug still on?” He glanced down at his crotch. “This thing itches like hell.”
“Yeah, thanks for reminding me. While you were stalling we had to get into position,” Nancy said. She reached into her jacket pocket, brought out a smartphone, and touched the screen. Several seconds later, she looked up and put the device back into her pocket. “A copy has been delivered to the station’s server.”
Gordon, off the roof now, stepped up and gave Charlie a hug and a handshake. “You done good! For a moment there, in the Back Up office, Nancy thought we might need to crash the party, especially when Anna started checking you for the wire.”
“I’m glad she was in a hurry and didn’t order me to ‘drop trou.’ By then I believed she just wanted to get away clean. Nathan had enough evidence hidden up in those cloud files to send her to prison. His mistake was confronting her first without telling anyone,” Charlie said.
“I think Nathan wanted to save Back Up’s reputation,” Gordon concluded.
“I wonder. Did she kill him to cover up her thefts, or did she finally lose it when she knew that Patricia had won him back?” Charlie asked Nancy.
“Jealousy was always part of the picture,” Nancy suggested. “That had to burn.”
“And Anna couldn’t kill the ex-wife because that wouldn’t solve the theft issue,” Gordon pointed out.
Nancy looked down the street, noting the arrival of more vehicles, including the crime scene van. “Guys, I’ve got more work to do, but stay close. On the way over here, I got in touch with DuPree, but I haven’t had the time to get him up to speed. He’s going to have a lot of questions,” she added.
“I’m hoping this is the last of all this. Whoever it turns out to be, I think Captain Whitaker’s killer is finally in custody. I’m going to call Ruth at the shop and see how things are going,” Charlie said, then noticed both Nancy and Gordon smiling. “What?”
* * *
Several minutes later, while the guys were seated on the lawn in the shade, a neighbor man who’d been watching from his porch came up to the yellow crime scene tape and motioned to Charlie. “What’s going on with the cops, buddy? Somebody break into Azok’s place? Poor guy’s suffered enough. I heard he blew himself up the other day.”
Gordon and Charlie exchanged glances, then they both stood and walked over to the stranger. “You’re talking about Steven Azok, right?” Charlie prodded. “How long had he been living here?”
“Just about a month, I recall,” the man said. “We shared a couple beers on my porch and Steve told me he and his wife were going to be getting back together again. He was thinking about buying this place and fixing it up. I’ve been wondering why the police never came here after he died.”
“He had an apartment as well, so maybe they didn’t know about this place. Unfortunately for him, I heard his attempt at reconciliation fell apart,” Gordon said.
“Small wonder. Steve had this blond gal coming over at odd hours. Decent-looking too, but not at all friendly. Wouldn’t even look at me. Hey, that’s her car in the garage,” he said. “I remember the bumper stickers.”
“Yeah, that’s right, bud. By the way, I’m Charlie and this is Gordon.”
“Pat Reed,” the man said, shaking their hands. “You guys na
rcs?”
“Can’t say,” Charlie said. “But you’d better stick around. The detectives are going to want to interview you. Maybe you can help seal the conviction of that terrorist.”
“What does that have to do with Azok?” Reed asked.
Just then Charlie heard the door leading from the house into the garage open, and out came Detective DuPree.
“Hey, guys, you’ll never guess who’s been renting this house,” DuPree said.
“Wanna bet?” Gordon replied with a smile. “Detective, you’re gonna want to talk to Mr. Reed here. He’s got some very interesting information to share about Mr. Azok and a certain lady bookkeeper.”
“I hope it helps with the homicide cases. The Arab guy the Feds nailed the other day has an airtight alibi for the Whitaker shooting. All they have on him now is failure to love America,” DuPree commented dryly. “They had to let him go.”
“It looks like most of the danger has passed, then, from the terrorist angle. Any word from the marshal’s service regarding Lawrence Westerfield’s status?” Charlie asked.
“According to Stannic, the men captured in New Jersey have been positively identified as participants in his escape. They’ve already told the Feds that Westerfield claimed to be heading for Canada with another of their crew. They couldn’t give any description of that guy, however; he’s always worn a mask, even around them. All they said was that the guy acted ex-military, or law enforcement, and had a Southern accent,” DuPree added. “Deputy Marshal Stannic has already given Ruth the updates. He’s going to make sure Ruth and Rene make it home safely.”
“You going to spend the night there?” Gordon asked.
“Probably a good idea,” Charlie said, looking forward to seeing her and Rene again, after what could have been his last day in this world.
* * *
Gordon and Charlie didn’t make it back to the shop before Ruth left to pick up Rene from school, so the guys sent Jake home, then stayed until closing. Charlie called Ruth to check on her, and right away she asked him to come over for dinner and spend the night at her apartment—on the sofa. He agreed, eager to spend whatever time he could with Ruth. They still had a first date to make up and, besides, he could look after her at the same time.