Secretive

by Sara Rosett

  “What about him?” Zoe asked.

  “Leave him.” The words came out rough, and Jack cleared his throat. He used the edge of his coat to wipe the gun clean, then dropped it beside Sam. “We’ll be gone before he’s awake.” He plucked the Mercedes keys from the carpet.

  Zoe took one more look at Sam then hurried to catch up with Jack, who was already across the room, pushing the door open. Zoe thudded into Jack’s back when he stopped abruptly.

  “Wh—? Jack threw his hand up and his shoulders were so tense that Zoe instantly went quiet. She heard the sound of footsteps in the hall, then a door nearby—in the next room?—opened and closed.

  Jack grabbed her hand, and they moved to the door in the paneling where Anna had entered the room. “There’s a man checking every room. He just looked in here,” he said as they slipped through the door in the paneling. The next room was another office, set up with a desktop computer, filing cabinets, and a copier.

  Before Jack could close the door in the paneling completely, a man entered the office where Sam was still sprawled on the floor. Jack held the door open a few centimeters. Zoe ducked under his arm, so she could see, too.

  He was a short man; the black overcoat he wore flapped around his ankles a few inches above the ground. His gelled black hair was combed straight back from his fleshy face, which was covered in shallow pockmarks, probably scars from bouts with severe acne. He studied Sam then closed the window with a solid click.

  Zoe looked up at Jack with her eyebrows raised.

  Jack shrugged and mouthed, “Don’t know who he is.”

  The man stood over Sam for a moment then reached inside his coat, pulled out a gun, and shot Sam in the chest.

  Zoe sucked in her breath then clamped a hand over her mouth. They must have been too far way for the man to hear her, because he didn’t look their way. After checking for a pulse, he put the gun in his coat pocket and pulled on a set of gloves.

  He moved around the desk, opened a bottom drawer on the left, and removed the envelope Costa had placed there. He lifted the flap and flicked his fingers along a thick stack of paper. Even from across the room, Zoe could see the blue color and the flash of a silver stripe. They were euros, a huge stack of twenties. The man replaced the money in the envelope then tucked it away in an interior pocket of his coat. He shoved the drawer closed with his knee then removed the gloves, stuffing them in his pocket.

  Footsteps pounded along the hallway. The man removed the gun from his pocket and went around the desk, knelt beside Sam, and reached out as if he were checking for a pulse.

  The door opened and several men in police uniforms moved cautiously inside, their guns raised. Zoe expected them to arrest the man in the overcoat, but they relaxed and holstered their weapons when the man in the overcoat spoke to them in German.

  “What is going on?” Zoe mouthed.

  Jack put his lips to her ear. “The guy says he’s with the federal German police force, I think. The other men in uniform are local. The Federal guy says he came to arrest Sam Clark because he’s wanted in connection with an arson and murder in England. He says Sam charged at him, and he had no choice but to shoot him.” The man produced papers as he spoke, which seemed to satisfy the uniformed men. One of them nodded and gestured to the hallway.

  Jack eased the door closed, but still whispered. “They’re fanning out to search the building. They’re looking for a woman with black hair in her late twenties who is also wanted by the Federal German police.”

  “I don’t want to stick around and try to explain why we’re here, especially after watching that guy shoot Sam.”

  Jack nodded in agreement, still trying to listen through the door.

  “I suppose the hallway is out?” Zoe said.

  “Unfortunately, yes. And there’s no convenient secret passage way either.”

  “Then that means we either hide or go out a window,” Zoe said, looking doubtfully at the windows, which were the same as the ones in the other office, set deep into the thick stone.

  “We’re not both fitting under the desk. It’s got to be the window,” Jack said, grimly. “No other choice.”

  They crossed the room, and Zoe crawled onto the ledge then pushed one of the windows open.

  “Okay, it’s not too bad.” Zoe stepped through the narrow opening and found a foothold. “It’s not a straight vertical drop. Only about a foot down and then the wall flares out.”

  “That’s called the talus.” Jack twisted his shoulders sideways and maneuvered through the window. “Made it harder for enemies to scale the wall and build siege works, not to mention the thicker walls were harder to break through.”

  “Well, you’re a font of interesting information.”

  “I had quite a bit of time to read all the brochures on the castle.”

  Zoe threw her head back to check his progress. He was still perched by the window, hanging onto the stone ledge. “Come on, you’re delaying. There’s toe holds and everything. The mortar or grout or whatever you call it has worn away between the stones, and you can climb down it just like a ladder.”

  “You’re not making me feel better about this,” Jack said, but dropped his leg down and wiggled his foot around until he had it wedged into an opening.

  “Now, your other foot,” Zoe coached, shifting to the left so she could see him better. He moved lower, and his booted foot came down level with her head, the untied shoelaces dangling on either side of the shoe.

  Zoe decided it would be better not to mention the untied shoelaces. Instead she said, “You’re doing great. Move your hands down now. We’re on the flared part, so it’ll be easy now.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Jack muttered.

  “So don’t think about the climb. Tell me what you think happened up there. You saw the money? It can only mean one thing, right?”

  “Costa set up Sam and Anna,” Jack confirmed.

  Zoe continued to move her feet and hands at Jack’s slower pace.

  “Do you think they’ll find Anna? Could she still be in the castle?” Zoe paused to look at the parking lot below them. “The cars are still there—except for the blue one,” Zoe said and felt a little sick, remembering the flare of useless brake lights against the night sky.

  “She’s probably already on a train. It doesn’t take long to walk down to the village. There’s a trail I’ve used many times. Only takes about fifteen minutes. She probably left before Costa. She seemed like the type who could figure out when she should disappear.”

  “She was intent on getting out of there,” Zoe said as she checked their progress. “Just a little farther.” To keep him talking she said, “Even if Costa paid off the guy in the overcoat, won’t it be obvious that he shot Sam while Sam was on his back?”

  “Somehow I don’t think the investigation will be very thorough. I bet the overcoat guy will make sure there’s only a cursory inquiry. Of course, Sam was supposed to finish us off before the overcoat man arrived.”

  “Costa did check his watch several times while he was with us like he had an appointment to keep.”

  “Or like he wanted to be gone before the overcoat guy showed up.”

  “We’re down.” Zoe’s feet touched the ground of the parking lot, which was more crowded than when they arrived with two police cars and another brown car with no official markings on it.

  Jack dropped down beside her and dusted his hands off. “We really must stop making a habit of this,” he said as he pulled the Mercedes key fob out of his pocket and pressed a button. There was a corresponding click from the sleek black car parked near the gates as the doors unlocked.

  “We’re taking Costa’s car?” Zoe asked uneasily.

  “Unless you want to walk back down?”

  Zoe moved to the passenger door. “Not really, but what if there are more police on the road? What if they recognize the car?”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  Their doors closed with a solid, expensive sound. Ja
ck started the engine and drove forward a few feet, then stopped abruptly a few times. Zoe clutched the dashboard.

  “Just checking the brakes,” he said easily. “I didn’t think Sam would have messed with this car, but I wanted to make sure.” Jack hit the headlights as he pulled through the gates and drove to the hairpin turn where the blue car had gone over the edge. He put the car in park, and they got out. Zoe edged up to the side of the road.

  Jack looked over his shoulder at her. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous, standing here. You’re not the one who is afraid of heights.”

  “It’s the fall that I’m worried about,” she quipped, and he smiled at her. She looked at the drop, and her smile faded. “And a fall off this...” she shivered. The rock dropped in a sheer face down to the flat plane of the water.

  “Would be fatal,” Jack finished for her. “Look,” Jack said, pointing to a smattering of lights about a quarter of a mile farther along the edge of the water where there was a strip of flat ground.

  “Are those headlights?” Zoe asked.

  “I think so. Probably heard the crash and went to investigate. They won’t be able to do anything except pull the car off the bottom.” Jack turned to the Mercedes. “Time to go.” This time, Jack took the sweeping hairpin curves in a carefree manner, his hands loose on the steering wheel. The car slalomed to the base of the mountain, and Zoe reminded herself that she liked exciting rides. Of course, this descent was very different from her favorite rollercoaster rides.

  As they approached the village, Zoe saw a lone police car slanted halfway across the narrow road. “It’s a road block.” An officer stepped from the car as they approached.

  Jack slowed the car, rolled closer. Zoe braced herself, sure that Jack was about to floor it and make the officer jump out of the way, but the man stepped aside and waved them forward. “Not for this car, it isn’t.” Jack said. “He thinks we’re Costa. Put your scarf over your hair and look away,” Jack said as they neared the officer. Zoe fumbled with her scarf and managed to cover most of her hair then looked down at the stitching on the leather seats. The car came even with the officer, and Jack raised his hand in a wave that also managed to block his face. Jack nosed the car through the small gap between the grill of the police car and the stucco wall of a building, then accelerated into the town square. “And, we’re out of here,” Jack said following the sign that pointed them in the direction of the Autobahn.

  ––––––––

  THREE hours later, Zoe sat at a small table in a travel plaza off the busy road, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee as she surveyed the parking lot where they’d left the Mercedes.

  Jack, seated across from her, noticed her gaze. “They’re not coming after us.”

  “I still can’t believe we weren’t stopped.” They had spent the drive in silence, both of them tense and watching the mirrors, waiting for flashing lights to appear.

  “I was pretty sure Costa had paid off the local cops, too. He was able to move around so freely,” Jack said, then sipped his coffee. “Hey.” He tapped her hand, drawing her attention away from the window. “I wouldn’t have stopped if it wasn’t safe.”

  Zoe stared at Jack. “No, you wouldn’t,” she said slowly. That was the thing with Jack. She knew, deep down—even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself—she knew in her core that Jack was trying to keep her safe. The same certainly couldn’t be said for Sam.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack set his cup down. “You feeling okay?”

  “Just having to deal with some monumental lapses in judgment. I can’t believe Sam deceived me. And, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he’s dead.” Zoe leaned forward and whispered, “Dead. That man just shot him, didn’t even flinch. I know Sam did some terrible things—”

  “Like killing Bent and setting his office on fire, not to mention he was going to kill us, too. There’s no halfway with these people. They’re all-in and they’ll do whatever it takes to protect themselves. That’s why I didn’t contact you directly during the summer.”

  Zoe nodded. “I understand that now.” She traced the rim of her cup with her finger. “That car crash...do you think they’ll find him?”

  “Costa?” Jack asked. “I’m sure they’ll dredge the lake and pull out the car. There’s no way he survived the impact.” They sat in silence for a few moments then Jack said, “The laptop is gone, too. Even if they find it, the chances of it being intact and anyone being able to recover information from it...less than zero. And that’s not even considering the fact that if it were found, we’d have to convince someone to try and recover the data.”

  “Too bad we can’t just access the draft emails,” Zoe said. “They’re out there in cyberspace.”

  “Somewhere,” Jack said. “But we don’t know where to look.” Jack pushed his empty cup away and shook his head. “No, Bent was too smart to write down his password info and even if he did, his office burned.”

  “But won’t the police realize Bent, Sam, and Costa are linked and investigate? Track down his emails?”

  “I don’t think the police will be anxious to broadcast that they were using a ‘cyber crime expert’ who was also perpetrating cyber crime himself. And if the overcoat guy is any indication of the type of investigators on the case...well, let’s just say I’m not holding out hope that they’ll find anything.”

  Zoe sipped her coffee, then sat up straight. “What about Costa, then?”

  “What?”

  “Well, maybe Bent was too savvy to write down his passwords, but Costa wasn’t a computer geek.” Zoe plunged her hands into her pockets and felt the stiff paper. She pulled it out, a smile breaking across her face. “Maybe Costa was just like the majority of people, who write down their passwords and keep them close to their computer.”

  “What is that?” Jack asked in a cautious voice.

  “I found it on the floor after you took out Sam. I think it was on the desk, under the blotter, and I tossed it when I was throwing everything I could find. I noticed it, but then we heard the blue car, and I stuffed it into my pocket and forgot all about it until now. Look at these,” she said, her voice bubbling with excitement as she scanned the short list of numbers and letters. “This line, vc2db@mail.com. That’s their initials. Victor Costa to Dave Bent. That’s probably the user ID and the word beside it, Evergreen, is probably the password.” Zoe sat back, relieved. “We didn’t lose the draft emails after all.”

  Jack rubbed his hand over her jaw as he looked at the card. “I think you’re right.”

  “Then why don’t you look happier?”

  “Because I need to tell you something, and I know you’re not going to like it.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “It’s nothing bad. At least, once you get over one minor point, it won’t be. Besides, you like surprises.”

  “I do,” Zoe said, cautiously.

  He picked up a plastic knife from the table, propped one foot on top of his knee and then applied the blade of the knife to the grooves on the sole of the hiking boot. He wiggled the knife around, and a section of the sole popped out. He pulled out a small, oblong bundle of plastic that was wedged into the hole. He handed the piece of plastic to her. “I know how you feel about secrets, but this couldn’t be helped. Too much commotion to tell you about it at the time. And, I want it on the record that I told you about it as soon as it was safe.”

  She unwrapped the plastic. “This is a flash drive.” Zoe’s eyebrows were drawn down in a frown. “It’s not the flash drive....is it?”

  He nodded.

  “But the other one...the orange one?”

  “Decoy. I thought it would be good to have two. This one is the real one, the one with the evidence about Costa.”

  “And the other one? What’s on it?”

  “Gibberish. Coded, of course, so that it would take them a while to figure it out. And a few pictures of cats for good measure.”

  “Do you know what
this means?” Zoe fell back against her chair. “It means we can prove neither you nor I were involved in the scam or hiding the money. We’re in the clear.”

  “In the clear,” he said, slowly as if testing the words out.

  “Yeah.” Zoe nodded. “You know what else it means?” Zoe didn’t wait for an answer. “It means I can teach you to climb properly.”

  He waved his hand. “Oh, no. I’ve had enough climbing to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”

  “Come on. It’ll be easy. This time you’ll have a harness.”

  ––––––––

  SUNRISE lit the white-tipped mountaintops that surrounded Geneva as Jack and Zoe entered the airport.

  “You didn’t have to walk me in,” Zoe said.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Mort will meet me when the plane lands in Newark, and I’ll hand the flash drive over to him. It will all be fine. I know you feel skittish about coming back, but I don’t see why you won’t come with me now instead of waiting.”

  “Because I don’t have quite the same faith in the FBI that you do. I rather like the idea of making sure there are no handcuffs in my future before I get on an airplane.”

  “Fine,” Zoe said. They’d already gone around and around on the topic during the drive to the airport, and Zoe could tell she wasn’t going to change his mind. “Where will you go while you wait?”

  “I’m not telling you anything. I’ll stay out of sight until I hear from you,” he said, raising a hand that held a cheap cell phone. Zoe patted her pocket, which contained the twin to his phone.

  They’d done a bit of shopping with their dwindling supply of cash before they reached the airport. First, they’d found an Internet café and emailed a copy of the draft emails to Mort, then Zoe had broken out her last credit card that wasn’t maxed out, and paid the change fee so that she could fly from Geneva to Dallas. There was no point in staying off the grid once she’d sent the email to Mort.

  “You better not lose that phone,” Zoe said.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “I mean it. If you disappear, I’ll find you. I’ve done it twice now. I can do it again.”