“From the way you said he blew off the little missus tonight, I doubt Whitfield is giving his wife a daily briefing.”
“She might have learned something anyway. The lady isn’t stupid and she’s not happy with her hubby right now.”
“Okay, let’s say Whitfield had Monk Turing killed. Why?”
“Something he saw? These secret flights maybe? There’s something weird going on over there for damn sure. Somebody took a shot at me. And say what you will about the CIA, they don’t usually go out of their way to kill American citizens for no reason.”
“He might’ve seen someone tortured. Or even killed,” Michelle added.
“People are assuming that Turing climbed the fence and then died right there. But what if he went a lot farther than that? In fact what if he was trying to get back out of Camp Peary when he was killed?”
“But you said all evidence pointed to suicide.”
“Come on, the CIA can’t rig a murder to look like suicide?”
“Sean, why would Monk Turing be sneaking over there in the first place?”
“According to Whitfield, to kill himself to either make the CIA look bad or die in a blaze of media glory.”
“But you don’t buy that.”
“No, but maybe he saw the flights coming in and being a curious genius he decided to check it out?”
“This genius couldn’t figure out that doing something like that was tantamount to suicide?” she said skeptically.
“So maybe there was another reason he was going there. But there’s another possibility. He might be spying on this place and selling its secret to the highest bidder. Rivest apparently thought there were spies here. And Turing did leave the country.”
“That doesn’t explain how he ended up dead on CIA property. And maybe Turing isn’t spying on this place.”
“What do you mean?” Sean said curiously.
“I mean, what is it they really do here at Babbage Town? Play with numbers and little computers, or so they say?” She lowered her voice. “So how do you know this place isn’t really a spy ring? Right across the river is a super-secret CIA facility. Maybe all the scientific mumbo-jumbo is just that, crap to cover up their real work: espionage against this country.”
Sean smiled. “That’s a brilliant theory. I knew I missed you for a good reason.”
“That’s why they call it a partnership.”
“But if this place is a spy ring, why call us in?”
“Rivest called us in. Maybe he wasn’t in on the espionage. But he did say the owners were having second thoughts.”
“When I screw up the courage to talk to Joan, I’ll ask her for a rundown on some of these things. I especially want a more detailed background check on Champ, Alicia and Monk Turing.”
“So quantum computers, you said?”
“Len Rivest said it was worth countries going to war for.”
“So you think Rivest’s death is connected to Monk’s?”
“If not, at least to Babbage Town. He was going to tell me all about the place. Then he goes to take a bath and gets murdered in the tub.”
“But the FBI still thinks it was an accident?”
“Ventris is the guy in charge. I don’t know what he thinks. He made it very clear that I was a bug to be crushed if I got in his way.”
“It’s late. Why don’t we get moved into our new home?”
Sean grabbed his bag and they headed over to the bungalow. There were no lights on inside.
“They must be asleep.” Sean unlocked the door with the key Alicia had given him and led Michelle inside. He turned on the foyer light and said, “I’m bunking in one of the bedrooms at the top of the stairs. There’s an empty one across from me. I’ll explain things to Alicia in the morning.”
He studied her without seeming to do so. “So you’re doing okay?” he said quietly.
“Actually, better than okay. I have to admit, the R&R was good for me.”
“And the weird stuff you mentioned going on at the psych hospital? Anything come out of that?” he asked casually, already knowing the answer.
“Nothing worth mentioning,” she lied. “I have to tell you, your buddy Horatio was a big disappointment. After asking me a bunch of irrelevant and insulting questions he took off, haven’t seen the little shit since.”
“Really? That’s surprising.” Sean elected not to tell her that the “little shit” would be here in a matter of hours.
“Okay, point me in the direction of my bed. I’m about ready to collapse,” she said.
In the next moment Michelle pulled her gun and pointed it at the sounds that came rushing at them out of the darkness.
Chapter 42
Sean grabbed hold of Michelle’s arm and said, “Viggie? Viggie is that you?”
The sounds became clearer now. It was someone whimpering.
Sean led the way into the next room and found a light switch. Viggie was huddled in a chair against the wall. She was dressed in her pajamas and her hair was down around her shoulders. It made her look older than did the pigtails. Her eyes were red from crying and the expression on her face was that of a person who hurt everywhere.
Michelle quickly holstered her gun and strode over to the girl. She bent down and said quietly, “Sweetie, are you okay?”
Whether it was the gentleness of Michelle’s words or the worried look on her features, Viggie put out a hand and Michelle took it in hers.
Sean said, “Viggie, has something happened? Is Alicia here?”
Viggie said nothing, keeping her gaze fixed on Michelle.
“Stay with her, I’m going to check on Alicia.” Sean raced up the stairs while Michelle sat down on the floor and stroked Viggie’s hand.
“It’s going to be okay, Viggie. I’m Michelle. Michelle Maxwell. I’m a friend of Sean’s. You can call me Michelle, or even Mick if you want.”
“Mick,” Viggie said immediately and wiped her eyes with her free hand.
“And is it okay if I call you Viggie or would you prefer Miss Turing?”
Viggie shook her head. “Viggie,” she whispered.
“Viggie it is. That’s a cool name. I’ve met lots of Michelle’s but I’ve never met a Viggie before. That means you must be really special.”
Viggie nodded, as though in agreement, but her grip tightened on Michelle’s fingers. “Mick,” she said again.
“We’re friends now. Okay?”
Viggie slowly nodded, her eyes searching Michelle’s as though for any hint of doubt, or worse, untruth.
When Sean returned he had Alicia in tow. Michelle looked up and noted the woman’s sleepy features and then, visible at the bottom of her calf-length pajama pants, the artificial leg. Sean made quick introductions.
“I didn’t know she had come downstairs,” Alicia said. She focused on Sean with an angry look. “We waited for you until it was very late.”
“I’m sorry, Alicia, I got hung up on something else.”
“Maybe we should just rethink the arrangement then.”
“I’m here,” Michelle said, rising from the floor, but still holding on to Viggie’s hand. “I’m Michelle Maxwell, Sean’s partner. Between the two of us we’ll be able to handle things now.”
Alicia stared at Sean for a long moment and then nodded her head at Michelle. “I see that you and Viggie have already made friends.”
Michelle smiled at the girl. “I think Viggie and I will be great friends.”
Viggie jumped up and raced to the piano in the other room. From the darkness they heard the song she was playing. Michelle turned to Sean. “Wow, that’s amazing.”
“It’s Viggie’s way of showing that she likes you,” Alicia explained.
“Why was she so upset?” Sean asked.
She said in a low voice, “That damn FBI agent, Ventris, came by earlier tonight. He started going into Monk’s death. And Viggie overheard him.”
“Oh, hell!” Sean exclaimed.
“You should’ve seen Viggie
a few hours ago. She was inconsolable. I had to tell her the truth. I couldn’t lie to her, not when she was like that. I finally had the staff doctor prescribe a sedative for her. She was asleep when I finally went to bed, but I guess the meds wore off.”
Sean said, “What the hell was Ventris doing here talking to you?”
“He wanted to question Viggie at first, but I put my foot down. I don’t think he meant for her to overhear him, but he didn’t stick around to help with her either.”
“What did he want to know?” Michelle asked.
“If I had any idea why Monk Turing would have gone to Camp Peary. Or if he’d mentioned going there before.”
Sean and Michelle exchanged quizzical expressions. Sean said, “I was told that officially the Bureau thinks Monk killed himself.”
Alicia coaxed Viggie off the piano, but the little girl refused to go to sleep until Michelle took her hand, led her up the stairs and put her to bed.
After they said good night to Alicia, Sean and Michelle settled into their bedrooms. Sean came in and sat on Michelle’s bed while she was still unpacking.
“Don’t worry, it won’t take you long to mess up this place,” he commented.
“What a comedian you are. So what happened to Alicia’s leg?”
Sean explained about her experience in Iraq and her job here at Babbage Town.
“Amazing lady.” Michelle added, “It must have been horrible for Viggie to find out that way about her dad.”
“It must have been,” Sean agreed. There was a vibrating sound. He groaned and glanced at his phone.
Michelle smiled and said, “Let me guess, Little Miss Joanie? Are you going to ignore her again?”
“No, if I don’t answer this time she’ll probably head straight down to Babbage Town.”
“Wow, that would be a lot of fun,” Michelle said, as she slipped her pistol under the pillow. “Maybe you shouldn’t answer then. If she does come down, I could accidentally shoot her thinking she’s some predator looking for fresh meat. Oh, that won’t work, because she is a predator and my shooting her wouldn’t be an accident.”
“You’re not really helping matters. I have to reason with her.”
“Go ahead. But while you’re doing that I really want to hear you tell the witch off once and for all.”
Sean stood. “That witch is signing our paychecks, or at least mine. So let me just handle this misery in the peace and comfort of my own room.”
“Coward. Are you going to tell her I’m here?”
“I said let me handle it, Michelle.”
“What is it with men and confrontation? Women have no trouble at all going for the jugular.”
After he left, Michelle slipped down the hall and opened the door to Viggie’s room. The girl was sitting up in bed in the dark. “It’s me, Mick,” Michelle said.
In a tiny voice Viggie said, “Hi, Mick.”
“Like me to sit with you for a bit?”
Viggie held out her hand.
Michelle lay down next to the frightened child in the darkness. As the girl’s hand touched hers, Michelle felt a jolt as the fragments of a distant and unwelcome memory hit her. Another frightened little girl sat all alone in the dark trying to make sense of the indecipherable. In a flash the image was gone, leaving Michelle as puzzled, confused and scared as the little girl next to her.
Chapter 43
Joan Dillinger screamed at him for a full two minutes, though it felt longer. She even played the guilt card.
“I went out on a limb for you, Sean. And this, this is how you repay me?”
“I didn’t return your calls because I didn’t have anything to report. What’s the big deal?”
“I’ll tell you what the big deal is. My boss got a call from no one less than the DDO at Central Intelligence telling him in no uncertain terms that we better back the hell off, and he named you as one of the chief offenders. The Deputy Director of Operations for God’s sake!”
“Ian Whitfield didn’t waste any time getting that done. I wonder how he knew your firm was on the case.”
“They’re the CIA, Sean, they can find out things. Hell, half the people at my firm worked at Langley at some point.”
“I can’t stop the police from investigating a murder, Joan.”
“Oh and that’s another thing. So you’re telling me that you’re now affiliated with the police?”
“It gets me into places I wouldn’t otherwise be able to, which increases the chances that I’ll find out the truth. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be doing?”
“Sean, when you were hired to do this job—”
Interrupting, he said, “Yeah, let’s get that straight right now. Who hired us?”
“Len Rivest.”
“He’s only the head of security. Someone had to authorize him to hire your firm.”
“Well, did you think of asking him?”
“It doesn’t matter if I did or not now. He’s dead.”
“What!”
“He’s dead. I’m surprised the DDO failed to let that little tidbit slip.”
“I can’t believe it. Len was a good guy. We went way back.”
Sean said, “I’m sure you did; however, his status as a good guy has not been established in my mind.”
“What do you mean by that?” she said sharply.
“He was murdered, Joan. And in my experience people get murdered for one of two reasons. One, because someone didn’t like them. Two, because someone didn’t want them alive to talk.”
“You think Len was involved in Monk Turing’s death?”
“Murders so close together tend to be connected.”
“It hasn’t been established that Monk was murdered.”
“Technically, it hasn’t been established that Len was either, but I’m sure that he was. And by the way, someone took a couple of shots at me. I think they came from the vicinity of Camp Peary.”
“Good God, all this happened and you never called me?”
“I’ve been busy. So getting back to my original question: Who hired us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Joan, I’m tired and I’m totally pissed off at the world. So don’t play games with me. Len Rivest said, ‘countries would go to war’ for whatever they’re doing here.”
“He said that?”
“And you didn’t know?”
“I didn’t. I swear, Sean. From the little I knew of the case, I figured you’d pull a few days down there and it would be concluded that Turing killed himself on Camp Peary grounds. It’s happened before, you know.”
“Yeah, Ian Whitfield enlightened me on that point. But the dynamic has changed now with Rivest’s death.”
“If they are connected.”
“My gut tells me they are.”
“Then I’m sending down reinforcements.”
“I’ve already got someone.”
There was a long pause and then Joan hissed. “Are you telling me that she’s down there with you?”
“Who, Mildred?”
“Michelle effing Maxwell!” she screamed so loudly that Sean had to pull the cell phone away from his ear.
“That’s right,” he replied calmly. “She just showed up and reported for duty.”
“She does not work for this firm.”
“I know. I’m subcontracting the work out to her.”
“You have no authority to do that.”
“Actually, I do. I’m an independent contractor to your firm. In paragraph fifteen, subsection d of the contract I signed with your company it gives me the latitude to consult with assets that I deem appropriate to the task so long as payment for such assets comes out of my fees.”
“You actually read the contract?”
“I always read the contract, Joan. So maybe together we can get to the bottom of this thing. I’ve also got another friend coming down, a psychologist by the name of Horatio Barnes.”
“Why? Or am I not entitled under the contract to question your c
hoice of assets?”
“Monk Turing’s young daughter,” he said simply. “She found out a little while ago that her father’s dead and went hysterical. And she’s also not so easy to communicate with on the best of days. But I think Horatio may be able to get through to her.”
Apparently having resigned herself to these developments Joan said, “Do you think the girl may know something about her father’s death?”
“Right now it’s one of the few leads we have.”
“Sean, risking your life is not in the job description.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“On the other hand, tell Mildred she’d look positively stunning eating a large-caliber bullet meant for you.”
“Doubtless she already knows your feelings on the subject.”
Sean put the phone down, collapsed back on his bed fully clothed and fell asleep. He had no concerns for his personal safety now. The A team was right across the hall. It was probably a good thing he couldn’t see how scared and confused his A team was. The man would not have slept nearly so soundly.
Chapter 44
When Horatio Barnes arrived early the next morning Champ was not as accommodating as he had been to Michelle.
“We are not a resort!” Champ exploded.
“But I think he can help Viggie,” Sean said.
“Then he can do it from a distance, damn it. This is a highly secure facility full of highly confidential research and I don’t even know who this man is.”
“I can vouch for him. And you let Michelle stay here,” Sean countered. “You don’t know her either. So what’s the difference?”
Champ snapped, “No!” And stalked off.
Horatio was relegated to a bed-and-breakfast in the nearby town of White Feather.
Michelle thankfully was not up yet so Sean borrowed a car and followed Horatio to White Feather. After Horatio checked in the two men sat in the dining room having a cup of coffee.
“Nice area,” Horatio said. “Except for all the people being slaughtered, I might’ve considered retiring down here.”
“Tell me about Tennessee,” Sean prompted.
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