Tay doubted the man had seen any patrol work in thirty years. "My next report will be more informative, I can assure you."
"It better be, Mr. Hastings. Sergeant Atkinson, in my opinion, should never have been given this posting. She can't be trusted to follow orders and if I'd had my way, she'd still be shoveling snow off staff cars in the Arctic. As for you, Mr. Hastings, if I don't see some end results within the next forty-eight hours, both of you will be removed from the country and replaced by a contingent of RCMP officers."
Tay gripped the receiver until his knuckles ached. Police from the Ottawa area? Officers from the division where he used to work? No damn way.
"Furthermore, I have External Affairs on my rear end, Mr. Hastings. They want someone to hang for this mess. It's obvious that Sergeant Atkinson is at fault again, but let me tell you something. If I'm not satisfied with both yours and Atkinson's next reports, she will be removed from her post. And there won't be any more cushy instructor jobs for you, either, Mr. Hasting. Have I made myself clear?"
Chapter Nineteen
Dawna pulled the phone away from her ear, but not before accidentally catching the caller's first words. Lieutenant-Colonel Smythe. His clipped tone was unmistakable.
A single wash of dread chilled her. She could feel the tension bursting through her and hastily dropped the receiver.
It clattered onto the base, causing the vigilante to glance up at her. She muttered an apology.
The door to her office opened and Tay stepped out. His expression was cool, calm, but by no means relaxed.
She wouldn't ask him what the call was about. The last few days, she'd begun to see him as a person struggling with problems of his own. She wouldn't put him in a position of lying to her again.
Or didn't she want to hear the truth? Because she was scared?
Lifting her chin, she said, "I have a few things to finish up this afternoon, but after that, I'm going to drop by the ambassador's house. Would you like to tag along?"
Tay glanced up at her, as if surprised she was there. "Yeah, sure." He paused. "Do you think we could swing by your apartment to get the embassy's cell phone?"
Alone in her apartment with Tay? No, that wasn't going to happen. "I'll send an escolta over to get it."
He nodded absently. She ached to ask him what was on his mind, but pushed it away. "Give me about an hour and I'll be ready to leave." Before she gave in to any temptation, she walked into her office and shut the door.
Tay ran his fingers through his hair. He must have sighed loudly, for the new vigilante peered up at him. Clearing his throat, he stalked into the corridor.
He had to do something. Glancing up fervently, he strode to the back mantrap and out to the glaring brilliance of the courtyard.
He shut his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun penetrate his skin. One deep breath. Two deep breaths. Three. The urge to run faded.
Dawna was right. He did want to run away. He still wanted to run away.
No damn way! What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't leave her with this mess. Not again. This wasn't how a decent cop did things. Since when did he become such a coward?
Since he was able to camouflage the running away behind switches in assignments, new jobs, other things that would come up.
He spun around and stormed back up the broken steps into the rear mantrap. In the corridor, he hesitated, Smythe's words still echoing in his head. Should he mention the ultimatum the Colonel had dropped on him? Would Dawna believe him if he added that he had no intentions of letting her take the blame anymore?
Probably not, even considering her fledgling trust in him.
He found Lucy alone in her office. She looked up at him questioningly. "Can I help you with anything?"
He opened his mouth, then shut it. Lucy lifted her eyebrows expectantly.
He began again. "Has the Assistant Ambassador taken over the ambassador's duties?"
She smiled. "Mr. Taylor is the ambassador's assistant, not the Assistant Ambassador. There's a difference. He can fill in some of the duties, of course, but certainly not the majority of them. What Mr. Taylor's doing now is mostly damage control, I'm afraid. I've been typing up press releases and cancellation letters all morning." She sagged. "I'm thankful that Ambassador Legace is better, and not just for our workload. But still..."
Tay folded his arms. "How much tea does he drink?"
She pondered his question. "A lot. He has one cup of coffee in the morning, and tea the rest of the time."
"Normal tea?"
"Oh, no. Herbal teas, too. He likes mint tea."
"Where does he get the tea from?"
Lucy blinked. "The States and Canada, mostly. We have it shipped in for the embassy."
"And does Dawna drink it, too?"
She smiled again. "Only if it has caffeine in it. At least most of the time, anyway."
"Does she normally keep her tea in her desk?"
"I suppose," she said slowly, shrugging her shoulders. "Just for convenience and not to hoard it or anything. I mean, I have some and so does the ambassador."
"And he has access to Dawna's office, correct?"
"He can go anywhere in the embassy he likes."
"Does he normally take other people's teas?"
She stiffened, her words cooling. "You'll have to ask him that."
Tay nodded, thanking her. Lucy was loyal to her boss, all right. But Dennis Legace was the kind of man to whom loyalty came easily. He was fair and honest. He'd hired Dawna because he believed in her, despite what was on her record. In return, he had her loyalty, too.
Feeling frustrated, Tay went down to the coffee room. What was taking Dawna so long? They had a job to do. And only forty-eight hours to do it in.
He searched all the cupboards for a tea that matched the open box he'd seen in Dawna's office. While he had been waiting for her earlier, he'd memorized the brand.
He couldn't find any. All that was here were individually wrapped packages of Canadian teas. The one in Dawna's desk was local. The coffee was freshly opened, too, he noticed with a sniff to it.
He would ask her about it.
Dawna found Tay at the entrance to the coffee room a short time later. She'd hurried through the rest of her work, skipping the things that could wait and purposely deleting from the computer screen the rows of letters and numbers she and Tay had created with their passion.
No evidence. There must never be any evidence of inappropriate behavior. Nothing as long as her position here was so tenuous. Nothing even the other staff members could suspect.
Since when did she distrust those people she worked with?
Now, Tay stood before her. She stared up at him, hoping he couldn't read her thoughts. "Ready?" she asked.
"Yes. Did you get that cell phone?"
She handed him the small black model. "We'll take my car. It's still outside."
Tay was silent on the way over to the ambassador's house. She wanted to ask him about Colonel Smythe, but couldn't find the words. And the fact that Tay didn't volunteer anything about the call cemented her decision to stay silent. Trust him, she told herself.
Hard, it was, though.
Fifteen minutes later, one of the escoltas led them into the living room of the ambassador's spacious bungalow located up on the western hillside, close to one of the main thoroughfares that probably facilitated his quick arrival the morning the bomb exploded. His home overlooked the city, and the haze of smog that blanketed it. A moment after Dawna and Tay were led to the living room by an escolta, Julie Legace came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "Forgive me, when I get upset, I bake. My kids love it, though." She laughed, but the sound had a nervous ring.
Dawna rose, followed by Tay. "How's the ambassador?" she asked.
"Much better. He came downstairs for breakfast and even made a few suggestions on what I could bake for him." She gave them a wobbly smile. "He knows me too well."
"Can we speak to him?"
"I'll see if he's awake."
When she returned, she wore a bigger smile. "I'll take you in. It's not a bedroom anymore, believe me. The hospital sent home a few monitors, so it's more like a fancy ward, now. Dennis feels -- and looks much better. He's saying now he feels like Hugh Hefner working in his pajamas." She led them down the hall, laughing nervously. "He's even suggested he might finish out his tenure here in them."
The bedroom was wide and long, expensively furnished with extra chairs around an entertainment system at the opposite end of the big bed. Curled up in one of the chairs was the couple's youngest daughter, watching cartoons.
"Sit down, Dawna, Mr. Hastings." The ambassador grinned as he spread his hands around the bedroom, which had taken on the look of a private hospital room. "I like this way of conducting business. I couldn't be more comfortable. Though, I'm not sure the president would want to visit me here. Oh, excuse my daughter. She wanted to stay home from school today to be with me, so we let her."
"You look good, sir," Dawna said, taking a seat near the girl, who looked up briefly and smiled. Tay remained standing beside Dawna.
"Compared to yesterday, I feel great." He sobered. "It's scary to feel your heart racing and be unable to catch your breath."
"Sir, do you feel up to answering a few questions?" Tay asked.
"Of course."
"As you must know, the tea you drank contained a plant called..." He pulled out his notebook and looked at his writing. "Tuchuchaw. It's a dangerous plant grown up in the mountains. Did you buy the tea yourself?"
"I don't go grocery shopping. I don't have the time."
"In that case, can you tell us your exact movements yesterday?"
The ambassador glanced at his wife, who had taken a seat at the end of the bed. "The day was pretty much the same as every day. My schedule is light this week, because we had arranged to watch my youngest at her piano recital.
"But I knew I should put some extra hours in, so I returned to the embassy after supper. I also wanted to see if Dawna had completed her daily report, so I walked down to her office." He looked at Dawna. "When I didn't see your report, I started to poke around in your desk to find your message pad. That's when I found your tea. It looked good and I figured I would have a cup."
"Were you separated from your tea at any time?" Tay asked.
"No. I took one tea bag, got my cup and then went to the coffee room for some hot water. I made the tea and took it back to Dawna's office."
Dawna scribbled down some notes. "Marconi was on duty. Was he still in the security office when you returned?"
"Yes, he was. I went into your office and started to sip the tea. I was actually considering calling you for the report."
"What did you think of the tea?"
The ambassador thought for several seconds. "It was minty, a little bit different tasting. Good, actually. I sat for a few minutes and then began to write you a note." He glanced at his wife. "That's when I started to feel ill."
Dawna stole a glance at Julie. She paled before turning her head away. Poor woman.
Dennis Legace said, "I must have passed out then."
Tay leaned forward. "I think it's safe to say that the tea was deliberately tampered with, though we have no proof. The doctor you saw says the brand of tea is very common here, and does not contain tuchuchaw, although the plant is available locally." He rubbed his cheek where the bruise was still evident. Dawna waited for the ambassador to ask about it, but he didn't.
Tay spoke again. "Has anyone on the embassy staff, or even their families, been dissatisfied with anything you've done during these last few months?"
Julie Legace turned. "Enough to take it out on Dennis? He hasn't done a thing to anyone here. Not a thing! He's an excellent ambassador."
"It's all right, Julie. They're good questions."
She glared at her husband. "No, it isn't. That tea was in Dawna's desk, not yours. Dawna should be asking those questions to herself. Her desk is a lot more accessible to the rest of the staff than your desk."
"Julie, dear, relax," the ambassador murmured. "Everyone knows I roam around. And that I'm always trying new herbal teas."
Julie fired her stinging gaze onto Dawna. "Yes. Even you knew that. She knew you'd probably come looking for her report."
Dennis leaned forward and took his wife's hand. "Why don't you cut up some of those lemon squares you made? I'd love to try them. And I'd like to speak with Dawna and Mr. Hastings alone." He gave her hand a squeeze as he smiled reassuringly. "It'll only take a minute."
Still distraught, Julie stalked out. Their daughter, whose attention had switched to the conversation, returned to watching the TV. As the door closed, Dennis Legace's smile turned diplomatic. "Please forgive my wife. She worries too much about me."
"It's all right," Dawna mumbled, feeling sick at Julie's suggestion.
"I don't believe for one minute you are responsible, Dawna. I put my trust in you when I hand-picked you last year. I would do the same today. I hand pick all my staff."
Dawna nodded.
The ambassador faced Tay. "I don't judge my staff solely on their histories or their résumés, Mr. Hastings. I look for qualities that aren't always obvious. Even those people who don't appear outwardly suitable for an embassy assignment end up being perfect. I support my staff one hundred percent and expect that support in return." He ended his words with another diplomatic smile.
Tay walked to the end of the bed. "Ambassador, do you know an American named Joseph Martin?"
The ambassador thought for a moment. "It's a fairly common name, but I don't recall ever meeting him. There was a man named Martin who was assistant director of the CIA when I was on the embassy staff in Washington, many years ago. But I don't remember his first name, just meeting him at a function."
Tay shot a glance at Dawna. She knew right away they were thinking the same thing. Joseph Martin needed relatives in high places to land him a lucrative embassy posting while still a Co-Op student.
Tay looked back at the ambassador. "Joseph Martin is a twenty-one year old."
He laughed. "In that case, I don't know him. All my acquaintances are over fifty."
Tay smiled politely. "What about a Bolivian named Manuel Chayo?"
Dennis Legace's smile faded into a frown. "Why are you asking me about him?"
"The name has come up in the course of our investigation, sir. That's all."
The ambassador fell against his pillows. Dawna leaned forward, wondering if he was on the verge of a relapse, when the door opened and in walked Julie with a tray. She set it on the wide, polished dresser and frowned at her husband. He smiled gently back to her, but his brows were still knitted together.
Dawna cleared her throat. "As you know, Ramos called in sick two days ago and hasn't been heard from since. Nor can we find him. He has no relatives except Chayo and his file lists a neighbor as his emergency contact number, as opposed to his next of kin."
"This country is quite poor, and sometimes families get split up because of the need to go to where the work is," Ambassador Legace reminded them
"I understand. Manuel Chayo's last known address was Ottawa."
The ambassador flicked his gaze to his wife and then back to Dawna. "And?"
"He's not there any longer," Tay said, folding his arms. "He was posted to the Bolivian embassy there for a short time about twelve years ago. His whereabouts are unknown. Do you know this man, sir?"
"My husband's tired, Mr. Hastings," Julie interjected. "I can tell by the look on his face. Can we continue this discussion later?"
Dawna stood. "Certainly. Thank you, Ambassador. I hope you're feeling better tomorrow."
"I'm sure I will be."
Julie was already at the door, holding it open. Dawna offered her a smile, which was returned briefly. "I'll send some of my lemon squares over to you and Lucy later. Heavens knows I've baked enough of them."
Dawna nodded, closing in on the door. "Thank you. That's very kind." She dared o
ne last glance at the Ambassador. He paled as Tay stared him down. In front of Julie, Dawna remained as still as a statue. The entire bedroom suddenly felt very much like the interrogation room back at her unit.
Finally, she cleared her throat. Still keeping the grim expression, Tay followed her out.
Crammed into Dawna's tiny car again, Tay shifted to get comfortable. "Was it my imagination, or was Ambassador Legace not quite as honest as his reputation suggests?"
"I found him quite open."
"I'm talking about when we asked about Chayo."
"He's tired, Tay. He nearly died yesterday."
"He seemed quite jovial when we first entered, joking about conducting all of his business from his bedroom."
"You bombarded him with a lot of questions."
"He's also a seasoned diplomat. Being bombarded with questions is nothing to him."
"When he's well, which he isn't, today."
Tay grimaced as he twisted around to face Dawna. "He was reluctant to answer my last question about Chayo. And while your loyalty to the man is commendable, he has now cast suspicion on himself. You can't deny that."
"He might have inadvertently, but Dennis Legace is a man of impeccable reputation. He's our best ambassador." She gripped the steering wheel. "Tay, he gave me a break when no one else would. That's almost his trademark way of selecting his staff. And he's not gone wrong yet."
"But he was still reluctant to talk about Chayo." He waited for her to agree, but Dawna stayed focused on the thick, unpredictable traffic. It might not be wise to criticize the ambassador in front of her. He tried another tactic.
"Embassy circles are small, aren't they?"
"Yes."
"So it's possible the ambassador might have met Manuel Chayo when he was in Ottawa, right?"
"I don't know where the ambassador was living twelve years ago, but I suppose it's possible." She shot a warning glance at him. "I know where you're going with this."
"Then play along. Don't you think he acted a little bit suspiciously? Just a little bit?"
She slowed down, signaled and drove the car through the large vehicular door into the embassy's courtyard. After waving to the vigilante on duty outside, she looked over at Tay, reluctance showing on her face.
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