by Darrell Bain
“And I want to get back, too,” Marybeth said. “Lisa is there by herself.”
“I guess that's all for now. Sorry I didn't have better news, or something more definitive to do about it.”
The others nodded and departed, leaving Tyrone Beamer and Gina and Tim to go over their notes. He sent Gina down to talk to the doctor who had been providing specimens, with instructions to bring him gently on board. He wanted to start looking at brain scans of Masterville residents and for that he had to have someone in the medical community to collect them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
To Daniel, Masterville at first looked like any other small rural city, if quite a bit neater and cleaner. There was something missing, though, and he couldn't think what it might be. It wasn't until they had driven all the way through and were on a side street where Ruthanne's Bed & Breakfast was located that it finally occurred to him.
“Notice anything different?” he said to Shirley, who was driving.
“No, not really. Have you?”
“Yeah. No franchises.”
“Franchises?”
“Stores from national chains. Wal-Mart, Burger King, MacDonald's; that kind of thing.”
“Be damned, you're right. Now I wonder why that is? This place is certainly big enough for a Wal-Mart, and for damn sure it should have a Macdonald's. But maybe we just didn't see them?”
“MacDonald's always locates on the main drag through a town to catch the tourists. There might be a Wal-Mart on this side of town farther out, but something tells me there won't be.”
“But why?”
“These people are as independent as cats, apparently. They don't follow the beaten path in anything else; why should they want to take orders from a corporation boss off in New York or wherever? I'll bet every business in the valley is locally owned.”
“Well, they seem modern enough from the glimpses I caught as we drove through. I suppose it's just one more puzzle about the place.”
“Among many others. Hey, we're here!” The Bed and Breakfast advertised its presence with a sign almost too small to see from the street; in fact, it was the street number Daniel saw first.
“Pretty place. Well kept, too.”
Daniel didn't know if it was pretty or not. Old homes, whether renovated or not, did nothing for him. However, the yard in front was well kept and aflame with flowers and bushes in full bloom. He thought some of them were azaleas, but had a vague notion that it was too late in the year for them to be blooming. One day, if he ever got married and settled down, he supposed he would have to learn about those things.
The driveway curled around to the back to where there was ample parking. A little walkway of paving stones made from irregular pieces of slate led to a small porch on the side of the place, near the back. A sign greeted visitors with a simple ENTER. What appeared to be a brass knocker turned out to be a doorbell. Daniel rang it just as another vehicle, one of the hybrids using electricity and gasoline, pulled into the parking area. An attractive woman with long brown hair blowing around her face in the light breeze got out and came toward them with rapid strides. The door opened just as she came up to them, holding out her hand.
Shirley saw the outstretched hand, but Daniel didn't. He found himself facing a woman with straight red hair and a light swath of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her smile was enchanting. For a moment the two stared at each other, neither saying a word, nor did Daniel pay any attention to the conversation going on behind him between Marybeth and Shirley. Something about the young woman was mesmerizing in a way he had never encountered. It wasn't that she was beautiful, though she was very pretty; and slim, with a nicely proportioned figure. No, there was more to it than that, though he had no idea what it might be. And curiously, she was staring at him the same way, as though he belonged to a strange species of human she had never seen before.
Finally Daniel managed to get some words out. “Uh, we have-have reservations.” He felt like a fool. Why couldn't he have said something intelligent? The woman smiled at him and held out her hand.
“Hi. I'm Lisa Berry. Welcome to Ruthanne's. That's Marybeth Chambers behind you talking to your wife. That is your wife, isn't it?” The inflection of her voice dropped with the question, as if expecting confirmation but not wanting to hear it. She saw that Daniel was still staring at her and dropped her gaze in confusion at a sudden jump in her pulse. She could feel her face flushing and knew he noticed it.
Daniel didn't want to admit to Lisa that he was married, even if it was spurious. He didn't know exactly why, other than that the co-host of the B&B held an immediate attraction for him-and by the way she was looking at him, he suspected the attraction was mutual. He didn't remember ever seeing a woman as an adult and feeling that way so soon-or perhaps ever. He almost denied that he and Shirley were a married couple before his training kicked in and he answered, “Uh ... yes, that's Shirley, my wife.” Reluctantly, he turned away from Lisa and found the other two women examining him and Lisa curiously. And now he could feel a redness playing over his own face and neck.
“Dan, sweetheart, is something wrong?” Shirley asked, reminding him that he had a role to play.
“Umm, no. Guess I was just disoriented for a moment. Too much coffee this morning, maybe.” He immediately turned back to Lisa and smiled at her.
Shirley looked from Daniel to Lisa and suspected what the problem was. It certainly wasn't the coffee, not if only two cups a couple of hours before could make him act like an adolescent on his first date. “Maybe we need to sit down for a bit. It's been a long drive.”
“Sure, I'll show you to your room,” Marybeth said. She, too, had caught the vibrations between Daniel and Lisa, but in her case, she thought it might be a good thing if the two were attracted to each other. She didn't believe for a moment that the agents were really married.
Daniel returned to the car for their luggage. He removed it from the trunk while the three women waited, still grouped around the entrance, with Marybeth and Lisa obviously on one side of an unseen female barrier and Shirley on the other. They weren't even talking. Daniel hurried to them before the situation deteriorated even further. Shirley stayed close to him as they were led past a hallway going to the front parlor, which Marybeth pointed out to them, then on back to a bedroom with an old, iron-framed bedstead supporting what appeared to be a modern mattress.
“The bathroom is in here,” Lisa said, her voice low, as if she were afraid to talk. She opened the door. Daniel glanced at it, saw that it had been modernized since the house was built and was satisfied. Shirley, on the other hand had questions which she directed at Marybeth rather than Lisa. They went inside the bath while Marybeth talked. Lisa and Daniel, momentarily left alone, stared frankly at each other; each knowing that something had happened when they first met, but not sure what.
Shirley came out of the bathroom first and saw them gazing at each other as if no other person in the world existed.
“Come on, Dan, let's look at the parlor. And I think you should lay down for a little while after that. All that driving has you fatigued.” She was obviously irritated and wanted to get him alone as quickly as the amenities of checking in could be completed.
In the parlor, Daniel produced a credit card for Marybeth, who checked it quickly with a modern electronic box, sitting incongruously on the edge of an ancient roll-top desk. Even Shirley had to admire it.
“That is a beautiful piece of furniture, Ms. Chambers.”
“Oh, please, call me Marybeth. Hardly anyone in these parts is formal. And I'm not really sure how old the desk is. It belonged to my great-grandfather. I don't know where he got it from.”
“Haven't you had it appraised?”
“Marybeth looked perplexed. “What on earth for? We're not interested in selling it.”
“Do you two own this place jointly?” Shirley continued with the questions, seemingly innocuous. Daniel knew that they weren't.
“Oh, yes. We bought it not too long
ago from Fred Collins when we decided to start a business of our own.” Marybeth was glad now that Tyrone had insisted that an actual sale take place and be recorded. When they no longer needed the cover, the title would be transferred back to him if he wanted it.
“Do you have any other guests right now?”
“Well, no. We're just starting out, you know. It takes a while to build up a clientele.”
“Maybe you need to advertise a bit more. We could hardly see your sign from the street.”
“Yes, perhaps we do. Thanks for mentioning it.”
Daniel listened to the exchange, admiring Shirley's technique. Nothing she asked was out of line but she had already gathered enough information to make him suspicious.
“Well, sweetheart, are you ready to rest a bit now before we look for a place for dinner?”
Daniel got up from the chair he had been testing and stretched in what he hoped was a natural way. “Sounds good.”
* * * *
Inside the bedroom, with the door closed, Daniel sat on the bed. It was solid and noiseless when he removed his shoes and stretched out on it, but soft enough nonetheless. Shirley came over and sat on the edge of it. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I think this may be a setup. Be careful what you say. And for God's sake, keep your eyes off that redheaded vixen and act like we're married!”
Daniel nodded. “Give me an hour here. I really am tired.”
“Me, too. Move over.”
Soon, they both dozed off, not hearing Marybeth and Lisa climb the stairs up to the second-floor bedrooms where they had been sleeping. Marybeth led the way into the one she had been using. As soon as she had the door closed, she grabbed Lisa and held her by the shoulders. “Sweetie, what on earth was that reaction between you and Mr. Stenning? I could practically see the sparks jumping back and forth between you; and what's worse. I think his so-called wife could, too.”
“You don't think they're married?” Lisa asked hopefully.
“Of course not. If you hadn't been blind-sided, you could have picked it up as easily as me. Now come on, give. What happened?”
“I don't know,” Lisa said in a voice like a small girl being asked a question by an adult which she didn't want to answer. “It was like all of a sudden I had known him forever and at the same time like something bright and ... and terrific was taking place. I've never had that sensation before. I don't know what it was.”
Marybeth pulled Lisa into her arms and hugged her. “Well, I do. You've met a man that resonates with you. Good God, what a turn of events!” She turned Lisa loose and pursed her lips. A fine vertical line appeared between her eyebrows. “I wonder—”
“Wonder what?”
“Could he possibly be one of us?”
“How could a NSA agent be like us? They're spies and dishonest and kill people and...”
“Don't believe all the stuff you find in books and movies. Most of them are probably as honest as the average person. And remember, there is at least one who is like us, or who sympathizes with us, anyway.”
“Oh yes. How did that happen? No one has told me.”
“Tyrone knew him from some business dealings of some sort before he went with the agency. They discovered that they think alike and Tyrone asked him to try getting hired. It worked, obviously. Tyrone is positively a genius for thinking so far ahead. It's like he just knew the NSA would eventually be investigating us.”
Lisa shivered. “It sounds dangerous to me. What if he's discovered?”
“Try not to think about it. And especially try not to say anything downstairs that might be revealing. They may have already dropped some listening devices around.”
“I'll be careful. I wonder where Daniel is from, originally?”
Marybeth shook her head. “So it's Daniel already, huh? Are you already so enamored that you wouldn't want to play with me any more?”
“No. In fact I'm suddenly feeling very sexy right now.” She began unbuttoning her blouse.
Marybeth reached to help her, unwilling to wait to get her hands on Lisa's breasts. “We'll need to be quiet.”
“I'll try,” Lisa said as her blouse dropped to the floor, followed shortly by her bra and the rest of her clothes.
CHAPTER NINE
Once Shirley woke up and refreshed herself, she dropped two rice grain-sized devices in the corner of the room where a vacuum cleaner wasn't likely to pick them up, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. She made certain that they weren't visible to the casual eye, then slipped two more into the side pocket of her jacket to drop in other places. Anything they heard would be picked up by a relay attached to their car and from there sent by satellite back to headquarters.
Daniel came out of the bathroom and took his jean jacket off a hanger. He opened his suitcase and took out the little palm-sized automatic, checked the clip and load and slipped it into a side pocket. It wasn't much of a defensive weapon but it was the best he could do and still keep it concealed. The weather was turning warmer and tourists wearing suit jackets would likely be out of place.
Shirley had no such problem. Her larger caliber weapon fitted into a special quick-draw pocket of her purse. As she checked her weapon, she asked, “How did the chair downstairs sit. Okay?” The question was a cover for asking if he had planted a bug in it while he had the opportunity.
Daniel started to tell her that he had been so pixilated that he had completely forgotten, but the honesty that got him in trouble at times made him admit that he hadn't. “I'm not sure. I'll try it again later.”
Shirley shook her head in exasperation. “Well, how about something to eat now? You can try again later.”
“Suits. I'm ready if you are.”
The parlor was empty when they stepped in to tell their hosts that they were leaving for a while. Puzzled, they left to explore on their own, without advice, although Daniel did drop into the chair he had sat in before and placed one of the tiny devices behind a fold in the seat cushion where he didn't think it would be found. Whether the things would help them or not was debatable, but so long as they were available, it wouldn't hurt to use them.
As soon as they were in the car, with Daniel behind the wheel, Shirley took out her encrypted cell phone and got in contact with Crafton. She waited until she was certain that he was using the right phone in his office, then began. “Mandel, I'm a little suspicious. It's possible that we've already been made, or more likely, that they knew we were coming. Could there be a leak anywhere at the office?”
His voice was loud enough so that Daniel could hear his answer. “Goddamn it, no! How could there be?”
“Don't shout, I'm just giving you a heads up. You can check around or not; suit yourself.” She hung up before he could say anything else, exasperated at his vehement denial.
“You really think we might have been tagged before we even got here?”
Shirley shrugged and turned off the phone. “I don't know; I'm just suspicious, that's all. And you should be, too. I think that redheaded little sexpot has you hypnotized. Hell, you didn't even fix the chair the first time you had a chance. If the parlor hadn't been empty, we wouldn't have been able to record anywhere but in our own room, if and when they come into it.”
“They'll be cleaning after tonight. They'll come in then. Besides, we can plant some more this evening while watching the news.”
Shirley let the matter drop, but she didn't intend to forget it. She wasn't sure whether she was irritated with Daniel because of an incipient jealousy over his reaction to Lisa, or whether it was from the lack of professionalism he had displayed. In either case, she decided that she would keep a close watch on every single aspect of their lives here. She hadn't gotten herself in line for another promotion by overlooking the small things.
* * * *
Crafton shut off the encrypted phone and placed it back in its cradle. Could it possibly be? If there was a leak, where could it have come from? He thought a moment, then touched a button on the console cover
ing half his desk.
“Yes sir?” His administrative assistant answered.
“I want to see Mullins from internal affairs. Don't call him; walk over to his office and set up a meeting ASAP.”
“Yes, sir. I'll do it right away.”
Next, he picked up the reports just in from the two other pairs of agents he had sent into Masterville, neither of whom knew of the other. He cursed. Both teams had to stay at motels way back on the other side of the pass leading into the valley, entailing a long drive back and forth, cutting into investigation time. The two small, locally owned motels were booked solid for months in advance. What was the matter with those people, anyway? What did they have against visitors? If the other two places were booked up so far into the future, it stood to reason that some enterprising entrepreneur should have opened a Holiday Inn or Best Western or some such in the valley. One more thing to add to the puzzle. Personally, he was beginning to believe the inhabitants of the city were disguised aliens. Well, not really, but they were a damned strange breed of human!
One of the teams had noted the lack of franchise establishments, and reported that one of them would drop by a real estate agency and inquire about property for sale which might be used for a MacDonald's. That ought to get some sort of answer. The other pair said they had gotten into Masterville, eaten supper at an inconspicuous restaurant which served superb food. No untoward conversation among the patrons had been overheard from their lapel mikes when they got back to their room and had the recordings computer-sorted and enhanced. The talk was mostly about kids, gossip about various sexual pairings and mild debates over home schooling versus the local elementary school and, as anywhere in the world, the weather. All perfectly normal except that two of the three conversations concerning purported sexual liaisons had been about whether their kids were ready for sex yet. There hadn't seemed to be any approbation to the talk, just discussion.
“A Goddamned strange place,” Crafton muttered to himself. Did he have enough data yet to take to Phillips? He decided he didn't. Besides, he wanted Internal Affairs to run a detailed security check on every person who had come in contact with Daniel Stenning and Shirley Rostervik in the week prior to, and the days after, they had been selected for the investigation.