“I'm not sure. He seems a bit unstable. I was getting nervous when he started to lose it,” Gal confessed. “Even though we were the ones prodding him.”
“Yeah, I was trying to get him to reveal his plan. He was on the verge, but you kept calming him down.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know what he'd do or if he had a gun.”
“We have guns,” Lee reminded. “It's fine if he goes off the deep end. In fact, our job depends on him doing just that.”
“When he started to rave about the White House, he must’ve realized he was giving too much away. Even so, a lost Kennedy hardly seems dangerous. There must be something deeper going on.”
“Hey, I remember reading about a possible mafia triangle between Sinatra's Rat Pack and the Kennedys. Maybe Fitz is a mob boss.”
The ridiculous theory caused a convulsion. Fitz could barely manage pooches.
“Guess we'll have to trail him to find out. Why do you think he's out of town next week? Do you think he's giving up?” Lee continued.
“I got the opposite feeling like maybe he's planning something drastic. I wish we could follow him now. Too bad we have to go back to your sister’s. How come she lives around here if you’re both from Texas?”
“Her husband's a senator, but his term ended. They're moving back to Galvo when their house sells. He resumed his law practice, so he travels back and forth.”
“Oh, well it's nice that you have family close. Mine are all in Ireland with a few scattered in the Soviet Union.” Gal reached behind her head to pat Harold.
“So, it’s true?”
“Yes, of course, it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.” She was confused and a little insulted. “I didn’t mean to tell you my family background earlier. I hope you aren't scared off by the Russian stereotype—people usually are—but really, it's more Crimean and mostly Irish.”
“Yeah, I have to say it did startle me a bit. But it’s not like you’re an assassin or anything, right?” He chuckled uneasily, her odd desk gadgets coming to mind.
“Absurd,” she tittered. “I come from very good people. My father is a dentist. Well, oral surgeon. He works with Doctors Without Borders.”
“Charitable. Saving the world one wisdom tooth at a time?”
Gal beamed. “Usually, but right now he’s part of Smile Train, fixing cleft lips on children in India.”
“Wow, very selfless, although a dentist still sounds a bit torturous. But I was asking if it was true how you got your name.”
“Yes, remarkably, it is. My mom teaches astronomy at the University of Dublin. She escaped the area at nineteen, somehow finding her way on a boat to Ireland where she met my dad. He helped her get into college. A chance came up for her to get into a space program but by then she was pregnant with me, so abracadabra, there you have it.”
“So, does that mean you have a sister named Milky Way or a brother named Worm Hole?” Lee joked, kissing her hand.
Gal burst into a fit of giggles. “Close, I have a brother named Orion. And our cat is named Milky Way.”
“No way! Or are you pulling my cord now?”
“Perhaps, Bubba.”
Lee cringed, nodding amicably. “Okay, funny. Lainey couldn’t say brother, and the name stuck.”
“That’s so cute,” Gal purred. “But you know, if you want, I can pull something else, Cowboy.” She let her fingers do the walking on his pant leg.
“Hmm. I’d take you up on it if ol’ Harry here weren't panting down my shirt.”
“What dog? That’s me.” They exchanged a playful smile.
“That was some tie-up earlier, huh?” he sighed, reminiscing. “I almost wasn’t able to get up right away.”
“Yeah, I know. With you, that’s always a problem.” She gave his thigh a squeeze.
“Just thinking of you falling on top of me, looking so tousled. Damn sexy!” he whistled. “If we weren’t expected at my sister's any minute now...”
“So….let’s be late,” she whispered, massaging his earlobe, this time making the hair on his neck stand.
“What about him?” Lee asked, distracted.
“Clip him to a tree,” she suggested. “Or I can take care of things on the way. Your choice.” She unzipped his fly.
Her offer blew his mind. He swerved, the thrill of it almost making him take the chance, but he preferred to enjoy it freely, not kill anyone in the process. He switched lanes and speed off the next exit. “There’s an abandoned base down the road,” he explained. “We used to have practice there until they demolished the place.”
Rolling past several “No Trespassing” signs, the tires crunched on gravel as they entered the grounds hosting several dilapidated barracks. Some were burned to the ground exposing their foundations, others in an array of ruin. A few windows, either burnt out or broken, were protected by graffiti-plastered planks.
The blackened shells triggered a suffocating memory. Swelling smoke, an enemy bullet hitting her machine gun's gas chamber igniting the blast. Viktor almost didn't get to her in time. If he hadn't… She shivered, remembering to breathe.
“You alright?” Lee rested his hand on her arm.
“Yeah, fire creeps me out. I’m glad we’re here in the daytime. Was this military school?”
“Nope, that was in Harlingen, practically Mexico. But there's a branch out here too. This place was just softball during training academy. It used to be a Navy Annex.”
“I hope it wasn’t this crispy when you played here.”
“No, they closed the base years ago. Then it became the fire department's training camp.” Lee parked as far back as he could, winding up behind the old Commissary store. They would be somewhat hidden in the jungle of overgrown grass, away from the devastation.
“Hang on, okay?” He jumped out and hooked Harold’s leash to the metal railing, lengthening it all the way so the pooch could roam, then dashed back to escort Gal to their latest quest.
They looked for a secluded place among the wildflowers, the vibrant splash of color a contrast against the charred remnants and stale sting of cinder. As they settled on the ground, Gal wondered about pollen-stained suits.
“Ah, there's a blanket in the trunk with the safety gear.” He hurried to the vehicle and came back with the solution. “It's not much, but it's better than nothing.”
“Tin foil?” Gal giggled at first glance.
They laid back on the crinkly silver, watching the puffy clouds for a minute. “It’s like a space suit or something.” Gal fingered the thin, metallic material. “Would this even keep someone warm?”
“I think it stems from NASA technology, so you should feel right at home on it.”
“Ha, very funny!” She sat up and began unbuttoning her blouse, but his impatience pulled her on top, rewarding him with his favorite eyeful. Slanting forward, her burgundy streaks tickled his nose.
Lee played with her hair, twirling it up and to the side, then brought her face close for a tender kiss. “Hey, I've restocked,” he whispered, proudly producing the packet he swiped earlier. Clamping it between his teeth, he started to tear it open.
“Stop!” Gal warned, alarmed. “Where did you find that?”
Ut-oh. He sat up, busted. “Well, I, uh, saw them in your bottom drawer. Apparently, you do keep a Boy Scout kit. Why didn't we break into your stash the other night?”
“Because they're poisonous! Didn't you read the label?”
Lee's vision zoomed in. Condemns. “Why do you have these?” Distressed, he ditched the package, looking wildly for a place to wash his hands.
“I told you I had an arsenal.” She sprinted to the car and grabbed antibacterial wipes from her purse.
Lee sat there stunned, his face turning a humiliating hue. “I'm beginning to believe you. Should I swig a bottle of Ipecac?”
“You barely dented the foil. You'll be fine,” she laughed. “That will teach you to snoop. What exactly were you looking for?”
“Just wanted to see if you starte
d a case file on Fitz. Are you sure I'll be okay?”
“If I was worried, would I do this?” she purred, frenching him deep. “Besides, I would never use them on you, only my wicked enemies.”
“You sleep with your enemies?” he sputtered.
“I never said that,” she glibbed, tugging at his belt. “And I've already taken care of things for us.” She flashed a safer version from her pocket.
Relieved, he thrust off his pants, pushing Gal back on the blanket for a frisky session. Afterward, bathed in the warmth of sun and endorphins, they slowly pieced themselves back together, astonished that the best they ever had—so far—was in a daisy field, no less. Their giggles and Harold's barking nearly drowned out the buzzing of his phone.
“This is getting ridiculous, Tom! Now Fitz is demanding his mother get full recognition at the Mother's Day Tea on Friday? He's nuts. It's not even fitting. It's to honor military moms and first ladies, not Hollywood harlots and White House homewreckers.”
“So, what, who cares? He's harmless. Blow him off.”
“Yeah, right, so he can blow us up instead? You call that harmless?”
“Probably just one of his empty threats.”
“We can't take that chance, can we? He says he's planted a bomb somewhere on the premises. So now we either give Monroe her due or cancel the whole event. Neither is fair.”
“Let's sweep the place. Call SWAT. Confirm his bluff.”
“And let the media catch wind of it? Exposure is exactly what he wants.”
“I'll alert the service; we'll keep this six feet deep. We can send in EOD specialists disguised as caterers or something.”
“Hey, that might just work,” Anita brightened as they scuffled out of the room.
“Cripes, he’s taken it to the next level,” Gal fretted, fastening buttons in a flash.
“We better go round him up.” He scrambled to his feet, buckling up. “Maybe we can prevent a disaster.”
“What about fluffy over there?”
“Dammit, we'll have to drive fast.” Snatching the blanket, they quickly packed the car, helping Hal’s furry behind into the back seat. Gal's leg caught the sharp edge of the door frame.
“These blasted things.” She peeled off her nylons, bunching them up in her purse. “I'm always snagging them on file cabinets and such. You're lucky you don't have to wear them.”
“Oh, I but have,” he joked, kissing her nose. “Now that I think of it, I was in drag once or twice and did pop a seam.” He shifted into drive, taking off.
“I hope it was for a case. And let me guess how you ripped it,” she snorted, pointing to his crotch.
“Not exactly. I was escaping a scene and had to jump a fence. Split the whole works in two! I had to get away, or I was going to end up in a shotgun wedding.”
Gal laughed so hard her side hurt. “Sounds like a good movie.”
“It was, almost. Speaking of which, I owe you one.”
“We have champagne and dancing.”
“Yes, but if we're keeping score, I’m racking up quite a tab. Hey, there's an old film fest at the park tonight! Believe it or not, they’re playing Billy Wilder's Some Like It Hot.”
“Oh, sounds fun. What’s it about?”
“Appropriate in two ways. Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis dress as women and sneak on an all-girl train. I forget why.”
“Ooh, funny. I hope they have better luck with pantyhose. What’s the second reason?”
“The leading lady is Marilyn Monroe.”
Chapter Ten
S narled in construction back up on 395 North, Lee jumped ship and snaked his way to Route 1, cutting through the National Air and Space Museum into downtown D.C.
“It'll only get worse this summer,” he complained. “What are the odds we find Fitz?”
“Pretty good, I'd say. Do you think Lainey was suspicious? She was acting weird.”
Lee looked over. “Maybe it's the dandelion stems,” he laughed, plucking a few from the back of her head.
“Why didn't you say anything?” Gal's cheeks flared as she dug a compact from her purse, weeding the rest.
“I just noticed. My clothes are all wrinkled. She probably put two and two together, but she's cool. We're all adults, right?”
They were waiting at a stop light near the bakery when Gal spotted the culprit. “Hey, look who it is, with a skip in his step. I wonder if he asked her out yet. Is it odd that he doesn't have any dogs?”
“He must be between clients. Or maybe I should say Claw-ents.”
Gal shook her head. “Let's follow him. Maybe we'll see where he lives.”
They crept slowly behind, annoying other drivers. All the honking made Fitzy paranoid. He started flipping people off randomly, muttering obscenities along the way, only increasing gridlock and blaring horns.
A cement mixer swerved in front, cutting them off. The driver hopped down from his cab, ready to give the raving lunatic a piece of his mind.
The agents exchanged worried looks. “Oh no, Lee, should we intervene?”
“Let's sit tight and see how it plays out. Maybe we'll catch an incriminating rant. With front row seats, all we need now is popcorn.”
“You're awful,” Gal chuckled as they watched the scene roll.
“Hey, Mack,” the angry Teamster sputtered in Fitz's face. “What's your problem? You're causing road rage. You better simmer down.” He extinguished his cigarette deep into the lofty frosting.
Gal gasped, hand over mouth.
“Hey! Not cool,” he wailed. “You owe me a cupcake.”
“You better keep your gestures and mouth to yourself, freak. Don't think I don't see you around every day on the street corners, begging for money, walking mutts. You probably don't clean up after them either.” The meaty man menaced, dwarfing Fitz, who in his defense, produced a roll of baggies from his pocket.
A punch in the mouth or a bone-breaking pummeling wouldn't do them any good, so Lee popped the handle and jogged over, Gal close behind.
“Hey buddy, that’s enough. He's just a harmless dog walker. “
“Stay out of it, pal. What are you, his psych warden?”
“Parole officer.” Lee flashed his badge too quick to read. “Do you need one too?”
“Come here, we picked up your meds, and we'll get you a new treat.” Gal lured Fitz to neutral territory, and he strolled over, baffled. To the driver, she explained. “Sorry he caused you trouble. He's a little off. Gets triggered by loud noises is all.”
They shuttled him toward the car, the trucker still flapping his yap. Once inside the safety of the vehicle, Fitz came out of his daze, recognizing them. “Hey, it’s you guys from earlier today. How did you know I hate loud noises?”
“Just a guess. My grandma's like that,” Gal sympathized, gaining trust.
“Where can we drop you?” Lee asked, trailing the mixer as it maneuvered on.
“It's my afternoon break,” he began, brooding over his nicotined topping.
“First stop, bakery. Hey, a good excuse to see your sweetie again,” Gal announced, handing Fitzy a five as Lee circled the block.
When he sauntered out with a replacement and two coffees, they strolled across the street and hung out on a park bench.
“So, what's your next move?” Lee asked, cutting to the chase.
“Um, with Sarah?” he asked, licking a circumference of icing.
“No, the White House. What are you going to do to get to the bottom of your name?”
“Yes, it's not right how they booted you out,” Gal agreed between sips.
“Oh, well, I have some ideas.” With blue frosting smeared around his lips, it was hard to believe he could do anything treacherous.
“Such as…” Lee probed.
“Wow, you guys want to hear what I have to say? I'm usually cut off mid-sentence.” He eyed their interest. “I thought you just wanted me to walk your dog. Are you really a parole officer? I don't have any priors.”
“We're pu
blic defenders,” Lee lied. “It's our job to bring justice. But if you don't want our help, we'll be on our way. We have other clients to meet.” They rose, playing the bluff, tossing their cups into a bin.
“W-wait. I don’t know you that w-well. How do I know you can be trusted?” Fitz followed them, not willing to throw away friends.
“That’s a chance you'll have to take,” Gal dangled, matter-of-fact.
“Okay, what can I do legally, sue? I was gonna break into the Oval Office and look for documents.”
“I don't think they keep records there.” Lee struggled to keep a straight face. “But we can arrange a DNA test. Why don't you come with us now? I know a clinic.”
“I d-don't have time. I, uh, have a d-dog in ten minutes.” He fiddled with a hoodie string, his eye twitching again. “And w-what about your other cl-clients?”
“We don't have an appointment for an hour,” Lee informed, checking his watch. “We can squeeze you in. Are you sure you have a dog to walk? It doesn't seem like you do.”
“I d-do so, two in fact. A p-poodle and a p-pit bull mix. How about we reschedule for t-tomorrow?”
“The clinic is just a block away, and we're authorized to cut the line. There's no time like the present so let's bank on it. Come on.” Gal tugged at his sleeve.
“No, I can't. I t-told you…leave me alone!” He pried her fingers free, dropping the cupcake in the process, then backed away, clearly distressed. Looking bewildered, he scanned the street before reaching under his sweatshirt to unzip his fanny pack.
Gal dove into defense mode, slipping off a shoe and grasping the spike of her heel while Lee positioned his hand on the pistol inside his blazer. The trick was to act swiftly without giving themselves away.
The sun reflected off a metal object in Fitz's hand as he brought it up and center. Lee aimed at his shoulder, lunging to shield Galaxy just as she scythed the stiletto at Fitzy, stabbing Lee's right triceps instead.
Baker watched in confusion, puffing on an inhaler. “You're FBI. I knew it!” He bolted off in a panic.
“No, we really aren't! I promise you.” Her voice trailed after him, and she started to jog his way but her attention shifted to Lee.
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