by KG MacGregor
"I’m not sure, Mike. Who’s this Roscone guy?"
Pollard flipped through the dossier on Agent Diaz.
"He’s a DA. She’s been working his case to see if he’s on the take."
"That sounds just like the IRS, doesn’t it?" he laughed.
"So, you want me to follow up on this one?"
The agent in charge knew it would be a waste of time and resources. "Nah, I wouldn’t bother. It doesn’t have anything to do with Rollins. But this Roscone…?"
"Yeah?"
"Tip him off." Akers hated Elena Diaz.
CHAPTER 20
"YOU DON’T HAVE to do this, Ruth. It isn’t too late to change your mind." The two women stood next to the Taurus, both anxious about what the day might bring.
"It’s no big deal. I’m going to drop this off and be back here inside of three hours."
"Elena’s gonna shit a brick when she finds out the Roscone stuff is bogus. I think she’d rather have him than me," Spencer joked nervously.
"I doubt that. Look, don’t let Jessie watch cartoons all morning, okay? Take her over to see the puppies or something."
"You bet." Spencer locked her serious gaze onto Ruth’s anxious face. "Thanks for this, Ruth."
"You’re welcome."
Spencer wrapped the smaller woman in a nervous hug, which was heartily returned.
The blonde woman got in and started the car, but didn’t close the door, her eyes still lingering on the angular face of her friend. "This is the beginning of the end, Spence. It’ll all be over soon."
"I hope so, for both of us." Spencer closed the door and stepped back, waving goodbye as she watched the Taurus pull away. Not that they’d needed any reminders, but both of their lives were riding on the meeting with Elena.
Ruth realized it too. She’d been thinking all morning about what was at stake for both of them. Coming forward about her identity was a big step, but after their talk last night, she’d agreed to put all her faith in Elena, trusting that the agent would never let Spencer down.
Last night had been…interesting. When it came time for bed, the programmer had gotten the sheet and blanket from the closet to make up the couch and it struck Ruth as silly that she would do that. They had slept together in the double bed the night before; why not again? Spencer had joked that while she had no problems sharing a bed with the likes of someone as pretty as Ruth, she should keep in mind that sleeping with a lesbian was theoretically the same as sleeping with a man. Maybe so, Ruth had said, but it was a hell of a lot more comfortable. And that’s precisely what she found to be so…interesting.
When she reached the Metro station at Franconia-Springfield, the end of the Blue Line, Ruth parked the station wagon in the garage. A twenty-minute ride would take her to the Smithsonian, but Spencer had suggested she get off earlier at Farragut West and walk across the mall from the opposite direction. It would make her feel more in control of this meeting if she weren’t so predictable.
When she boarded the train, she flipped open the blue folder to examine its contents one more time. The first few pages were bogus bank statements, formatted on Viv’s computer, and photocopied last night at a grocery store in Manassas. Underneath those statements were Spencer’s report and the annotated pages of code. The last page was the typed note that Spencer had encouraged her to include, the story of Ruth Ferguson and Jessie Drummond. In her recounting of events of Madison, Ruth didn’t reveal her new identity. If this didn’t work out, she and Jessie would need to move on, since it meant the feds would then know that they were in the area. Her anxiety compelled her to pull it out of the folder. But as she considered one more time Spencer’s infinite trust in Elena Diaz, she slipped it back inside.
When the Federal Triangle station was announced, the blonde woman stepped off and followed the signs to Constitution Avenue. She was at once awed by the stateliness of the buildings around her. As she walked toward the mall, she began to make out the tops of both the Capitol and the Washington Monument, and when she finally stood between those two landmarks, she could see the Lincoln Memorial, the National Gallery, the Smithsonian, and even the top of the White House. Standing in this majestic place was almost breathtaking. She hoped that one day soon, she could bring her daughter to explore this wonderful city.
Ruth was fifteen minutes early for her meeting; already, the mall was bustling with tourists, and thinking that she wouldn’t stand out so much helped her relax a bit. In the distance, she located the Metro stop for the Smithsonian and the bench where Spencer said she should wait.
After only five minutes, she spotted a woman walking from the direction of the IRS building that she just knew was Elena Diaz. She was as Spencer had described: very tall, curly dark hair with large brown eyes. She was dressed in tailored slacks and a turtleneck, the black blazer no doubt concealing the gun tucked beneath her shoulder. Ruth held the blue folder conspicuously in front of her and waited to see if she would catch the woman’s eye.
Diaz was aware of the woman on the bench, but she was almost past her when she glanced sideways and caught the blue image. Stopping short, she turned and strode purposefully toward the bench.
"Are you waiting for Elena Diaz?" she asked.
The blonde woman nodded once and dropped the folder to her lap as the agent took a seat beside her on the bench.
"Would you mind showing me some identification?" Ruth asked tensely.
Elena smiled and pulled her badge from her waistband, flipping it up to reveal her official photo ID.
"Is that for me?" She gestured toward the folder.
Again, Ruth nodded without speaking; she was much more nervous about this than she’d ever imagined she’d be. It was sure easy to see why Spencer had been attracted to Elena Diaz. The Latin woman was gorgeous, obviously strong and confident; independent, Spencer had said.
Elena took the folder and opened to the first page, scanning the information with excitement.
"Where’s the name? And where’s the bank’s name?" she asked pointedly, working hard to conceal her agitation.
"I just wanted to show you what I had so we could talk about the reward." Ruth leaned over and slid her finger beneath the bogus spreadsheets, opening to the first page of Spencer’s report. "There’s more here," she said.
Elena’s eyes grew wide as she realized what she was seeing, the salutation Serpiente confirming its authenticity. Spencer had sent this woman to talk to her.
Automatically, she looked up, locating in her peripheral vision the surveillance van that had dogged her all week. Those guys never seemed to take a day off, she groused to herself. The asshole was probably watching her through binoculars; but she doubted seriously that their conversation was bugged, especially since this woman had waited for her on the bench instead of at the Metro stop where they’d planned to meet. But they shouldn’t take a chance.
"Look, you did the right thing bringing this to my attention, but I’m going to need to look at it and talk to some people before I’ll know about the reward. Are you okay with having to wait a few days?"
"I can wait. I’m okay for now."
That was the best news Elena could have gotten. Spencer was safe and out of sight, and she’d made a friend who was willing to go out on a limb for her. "Is there any way I can get in touch with you if I have any more questions?" How could she contact Spencer?
Ruth squirmed on the bench as she contemplated her predicament. If Elena really could help Spencer, she needed a way to reach her.
"What if I call you back on Monday? Is that enough time?"
Elena pulled out a business card.
"I think so. I should be able to ask around by then. Here’s my direct number and extension." Elena scribbled the information on the card and pressed it into Ruth’s hand. Standing, she offered her hand and one last message of thanks. "I really appreciate your help on this. I’ll do everything I can to get you some kind of reward."
* * *
Agent Pollard chuckled as he lowered his
binoculars. By the time Diaz got her warrant, Roscone would have wired the money out of the country into an offshore account.
* * *
Ruth headed toward the Smithsonian station, constantly checking the crowd to see if she was being followed. Spencer had advised her to take a circuitous route back to the Blue Line, so she hopped off at Metro Center, changing to first the Red Line, then the Yellow, finally jumping back to the Blue at Pentagon City. She’d been one of only a handful getting off at Chinatown, so that gave her confidence that her mission was a success. Nonetheless, she had to calm her shaking hands before she could start the car and pull out of the garage into traffic.
Mission accomplished.
* * *
"I can’t believe you did all that by yourself," Ruth remarked to a very tired and sore Spencer, who had spent the morning spreading a load of gravel over the muddy driveway.
"It gave me something to do besides climb the walls while you were gone."
"Well, it wasn’t too smart, considering that your ribs are still black and blue and your arm has a hole in it," she scolded, taking up a position behind the taller woman so she could massage the aching shoulders. Jessie sat at the kitchen table coloring in a new book.
"I know, but what could I say? They dumped it and left. Viv couldn’t get her car out, and you couldn’t have gotten yours in."
"You could have at least waited for me to help."
"I was going crazy," she reiterated. "So tell me everything. What did Elena say when she found out the Roscone shit was bogus?" A hard squeeze from Ruth reminded her that the four-year-old was present. "Sorry."
"We didn’t talk. Well, we did, we just talked about Roscone. She acted like she was nervous about us being overheard, so I played along."
"But you showed her the papers?"
"Yeah, I gave her everything."
"Boy, she must be under pretty tight surveillance if she wouldn’t even talk to you." Spencer winced when the small hands found a hard knot at the back of her neck.
Ruth felt the flinch and honed in on the spot, pressing it gently with her thumb until she could feel the muscle start to release.
"So did you guys figure out a plan to talk again?"
"Yeah, you were right about the reward. That gave us a good excuse, because she said she’d have to check on it and I should call her back." Ruth then remembered the card she had shoved in her pocket. "Come to of think of it, she gave me her card."
Ruth dug the card out of her jacket, admiring the gold-embossed shield. Turning it over, she found a note.
"Oh, I didn’t see this. Look what she wrote." She handed the card to Spencer.
Elena had scribbled a few words of encouragement and a warning: Hang in there, Spence — we’re working on it. No contact is best for now.
"I knew it! She’s already on it. What’d I tell you?"
"I can see why you trust her. There’s something about her that gives off confidence and authority. And she sure did seem glad to hear from you." Ruth resumed her shoulder massage.
"How could you tell?"
"I don’t know exactly. It was like her shoulders relaxed and her voice got softer."
Spencer chuckled. "I can’t believe you picked up on that. I’ve seen it before too, just like you’re describing. That’s when I first realized that her tough girl stuff was an act."
"I don’t think it has anything to do with not being tough. I think she just cares for you, and she’s probably been pretty frantic herself about all of this." In her voice was a trace of admonition. It was clear that the agent’s feelings for Spencer were genuine, and if Ruth had to bet, she’d say they went beyond the friendship Spencer described.
"I’m sure she has. I’m really lucky to have her on my side. And you can see now why I wanted you to put all this other stuff in her hands. If there’s a way to fix things, she’ll find it."
After meeting Elena for herself, Ruth found herself nursing a glimmer of hope after all. "Even if she can’t, I do trust her now not to turn me in."
Unexpectedly, Spencer reached up and covered a hand that worked her shoulder. "Listen Ruth, no matter what happens, I really appreciate what you did today."
She liked the familiarity of Spencer’s hand on hers. "You know, you’ve got to stop calling me that. You’re going to confuse my daughter, and Viv’s going to start asking questions."
"Sorry, but you’re just not a Karen," Spencer said sheepishly. "And Jessie’s not a Megan, either."
"I know, but if Elena can’t help us on this, we have to be Karen and Megan Oliver from now on…Dolly."
"That was low."
Ruth grinned at the tall woman’s pout. With no warning at all, the most peculiar feeling came over her and she found herself fighting the urge to lean down and kiss Spencer Rollins full on the lips. Where the hell had that come from?
* * *
Ruth laid awake that night thinking about what had come over her earlier. Spencer was lying beside her, the slow, deep breaths a sure sign that she was asleep. Ruth had never been drawn to a woman before, not emotionally and certainly not sexually. All of her sexual urges up to this point had been for men. One man, actually, and that was Skip. But she’d never really been attracted at all to Skip when it came to emotions. In the four years they’d spent together, they hadn’t really connected at all.
What she felt for Spencer was such a contrast to all of that. It was definitely emotional; and it wasn’t like any of her other friendships. When her friends were sad or happy, she could easily share that with them; but with Spencer, she did more than share, and none of it was conscious. When this woman beside her felt something, she felt it too. It didn’t matter if it was anxiety, relief, frustration, or hope. Ruth took it on, and in her mind, it drew them closer. Whether Spencer felt that way or not was anybody’s guess, but she’d never given off any kind of warning for Ruth to keep her distance.
Now, the sexual thing…well, that was new. If she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she’d gotten her very first flicker of that the moment Spencer told her she was gay. But was it really sexual? The urge to kiss someone like she’d wanted to do earlier was definitely tied to her libido, which hadn’t been sparked in almost three years. That was when she first learned that Skip was getting his sexual needs met elsewhere.
Whatever it was that was jolting her now, it was kind of exciting to think about. And when she considered what the enigmatic woman had said jokingly about her willingness to share a bed, she wondered if maybe Spencer felt the same little spark.
On the other hand, maybe all of these strange feelings were just stress and anxiety, and concern for Spencer’s safety. After all, the programmer had been practically at death’s door just a week ago, and today’s meeting with Elena had brought all of that danger to the forefront of her thoughts again.
Or maybe she was just analyzing everything to death and she should just go to sleep.
* * *
Spencer awoke to the strangest feeling — pain. In the night, Ruth had migrated across the center of the bed to rest her hand and cheek on her injured shoulder. The wound was over a week old and had been feeling better for the most part, but the pressure was definitely unpleasant.
Carefully, she pulled away, hoping not to wake her companion. Ruth would probably be mortified to find herself sleeping like this, she thought with a chuckle. But Spencer had to admit, it was kind of nice to get a cuddle from her pretty friend, even if it was unintentional.
As soon as she extricated her arm, Ruth rolled over, pressing her backside against Spencer. That was impossible to resist, and with little thought at all, the taller woman turned on her side, wrapped her arm around the small body and fell right back to sleep.
CHAPTER 21
JUST LIKE THE Sunday before, the occupants of the trailer were awakened by a robust pounding on the front door.
"Pancakes and bacon in ten minutes!" Viv shouted.
Jessie rushed into the back bedroom to find her mother and
Spencer untangling awkwardly. "Viv is making pancakes again!"
"So we heard," Ruth answered sleepily. "You better go pick out something to wear, don’t you think?"
The child happily raced back to her room to get dressed as the grownups pulled themselves from the bed.
"Gee, what shall I wear today?" Spencer teased, picking up her last clean t-shirt and yesterday’s jeans.
Ruth grabbed her own clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, embarrassed by just the thought of dressing in the same room with Spencer. Why that bothered her so much, she didn’t know, but all of a sudden it was like they were girlfriends or something. She had awakened just before dawn to find the older woman wrapped completely around her, a long leg draped between her own. She’d had no inclination at all to pull away. Lying with Spencer like that just seemed perfectly normal.
Right on time, the threesome walked through the back door at Viv’s, Jessie making a beeline to see the puppies. Willy was getting quite a belly, and hadn’t yet shown any interest in playing. Viv had said that Labs were like that for the first few weeks, but that they spent the rest of their lives making up for it.
"It’s supposed to be pretty today, probably one of the last nice days before it turns cold for good." Viv had laid out a huge breakfast, and everyone was digging in. "I was thinking a picnic might be a good idea."
"A picnic!" Jessie exclaimed. She and her mommy had gone on picnics a lot when they only saw each other on the weekends.
"Yes, a picnic," Viv went on. "It’s kind of chilly, so there won’t be a big crowd out there."
Spencer shook her head. "I don’t think I should go, but you guys ought to. It would be fun."
"Why can’t you go?" Jessie demanded.
"Because I don’t want people to see me," Spencer answered simply, not realizing the questions that would raise.
"Why not?"
Ruth nervously kicked the brunette under the table. It wouldn’t be good to get into a hiding discussion around Viv. Jessie would let the cat out of the bag for sure.