Movie Night Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  They were headed back toward town. I'd have to go the other way, past the old Philips' place, in order to get to town unnoticed. I started the engine but kept the lights off. After creeping forward and seeing no one, I turned left onto the road and took a right onto the road past the abandoned house.

  I paused as I started to pass the house. Doing a little math in my head, I figured I had at least twenty minutes before the earliest time they could return. I pulled off the road and drove the car around to the back of the house, but out of sight of the barn, and got out of the car. Philby pawed at the windows as I rolled them up, but she was staying here. I turned on the flashlight app on my phone and sprinted to the house.

  Very gently I stepped onto the porch. It was a miracle that the rotting boards held my weight. The door was wide open, and I slipped inside. The house was in better shape here, but I didn't have much time to take in the view. Working quickly, I searched each room in the old house. Someone was definitely living here. I found evidence of food, footprints in the dust, and an inflatable mattress with a pillow and blanket.

  I paused at the foot of the staircase. Did I have time? I decided I did, and keeping to the outside of each step, tried to race up to the next floor. At one point a board groaned beneath me, but eventually I made it to the top. These old houses had very steep, very narrow stairs. The heat on the second floor was stifling. So was the smell. Something had died here.

  There were only two rooms, and the first room was completely empty. It was the second room where I found it. There, sitting on the floor, was a body bag. I unzipped one end of it, wondering why the hell I was doing that. Brown hair. I recognized that hair.

  A flash of light hit the window and I dropped flat on the floor. I heard a vehicle pulling up under the windows. Damn. I'd cut it too close. I looked down at the body.

  "Well, Evelyn, this is a fine spot you've gotten me into."

  "I said I'd get it!" a man's voice shouted outside.

  "You shouldn't have forgotten it in the first place, idiot!" a woman hissed back.

  It was them. The people who took Evelyn's body. The people who'd killed Seamus Bailey. I'd found them, unfortunately. And pretty soon…they'd find me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I heard someone walk through the front doorway.

  "Dammit, Red!" the man shouted. "You left the door open!"

  The woman's voice fired back from outside, "What are you worried about? Afraid someone will break in?" She snorted.

  "No, you moron!" the man said. "I'm worried that coyotes or cougars will get that body!"

  Red said nothing. The guy was right. We still had coyotes, and even though very rare, cougars were sighted every now and then. I was still crouched under the window in the same room as Evelyn's corpse. I pulled out my cell and sent out a text message. Then I prayed because there wasn't much else I could do.

  The door slammed below, and I heard footsteps downstairs. The woman must've come inside. What had they forgotten? Hopefully not the body. Of course, if the guy had forgotten something that big, you'd think this Red would've noticed.

  My phone buzzed, and I glanced briefly at the reply before shutting off the phone. No point in the light giving me away. Looking around the room, there wasn't much I could use as a weapon if they came upstairs. Worse yet, Philby was trapped in my car—a car that could be discovered at any second. How did I get myself into these situations?

  Minutes passed as I heard the couple rooting around on the first level. I prayed that they'd find what they were looking for and leave—preferably without noticing the strange car with the pink cat out back.

  "How could you lose the silencer?" Red shrieked.

  "I don't know!" the man shot back. He sounded very angry.

  "Dammit, Blue! I should've brought it myself," the woman snarled.

  Red was the woman? And the man's name was Blue? Either they were named by a crayon maker or these were code names. I'd heard worse. Once, in Finland, I'd worked with a couple who called themselves Pickled and Herring.

  How much time had passed? Maybe ten minutes? It sounded like they were taking the house apart board by board. Something caught my eye in the corner of the room. Damn. It was the silencer. And sooner or later, they'd come upstairs to find it.

  "This is all your fault!" The woman shouted. "All of it!"

  The man fired back, "It's your fault Vanessa skipped out with the puzzle box! You were supposed to be watching her!"

  Vanessa—oh right. That was Evelyn's real name. So whoever these two were, they knew who and what she was. Hmmm…both had American accents. Not a foreign terrorist group. Domestic terrorists? That was worse. That was too close to home. And what was this box they were talking about?

  Most importantly, they were looking for a missing silencer. You don't carry one with you unless you're planning to use it. That was very bad news.

  I had an idea what they'd planned to do with it. Take out the only person still living who could identify them. Soo Jin Body. Somehow, I had to make sure they didn't find me and didn't kill her.

  "I'll check upstairs," Blue, the guy, said.

  The room was dark, and I couldn't see a light fixture or anything that would illuminate me. As Blue started stomping up the stairs, I risked a glance out the window, hoping I'd have a ledge or part of the roof to step out onto. No such luck. The drop from the window to the ground was devastating. I'd survive, but I'd definitely break something.

  Blue reached the top of the stairs, and I heard him head into the first room. Very slowly, I started to creep, on all fours, toward the space behind the door. It was dark there, and if I was discovered, at least I'd have the drop on him.

  "Find it?" Red shrieked from the first floor.

  "Not yet!" Blue snarled.

  He was coming out of the other room and making his way toward the silencer, Evelyn's body, and me. The good news was that I could definitely take him by surprise and probably render him unconscious. The bad news was that any scuffle upstairs was bound to be heard downstairs. And at least one of them was most likely armed.

  I flattened myself against the wall, behind the door, trying desperately not to breathe. In spite of the darkness, a shadow loomed over the threshold and into the room. If he took two more steps, I'd have to act. And then Red would come flying up those stairs.

  No matter how many times I've been in situations like these, it was still pretty terrifying. You don't get used to it with time or experience. The pounding of my heart gave that away. You know how in movies, the dashing, dapper spy gleefully throws himself in harm's way without another thought? Well that's just an absurd fantasy from Hollywood. I didn't know of one single spy, on any side, who wasn't nervous about a confrontation.

  Blue took one step inside the room. I could see a profile through the crack between the door and its frame. He was about my height and a bit heavier than me, and I knew I could take him down if I had to. Which I didn't want to do. I saw as he reached behind him. Oh great. He has a gun. That just added to the insanity of jumping him.

  Click. A beam started sweeping the room from right to left. I would've sighed with relief, except that it meant he'd be able to see me soon. I pressed myself hard against the wall behind me, ready to push off and launch, hitting him with the door. If I got lucky, I'd have two or three seconds to disarm him before he'd realize what was happening. If I was lucky.

  A sound wailed in the distance, and I relaxed a little. Rex. He got my text message.

  "That's a siren!" Red yelled. "We've got to go now!"

  Blue vanished from the doorway and ran down the hallway and down the stairs. I heard two sets of footsteps echoing through the first floor and heard the door slam shut. In seconds the truck's engine roared to life and raced off to the gravel road and away from the house.

  I waited a moment before turning my cell back on and using the flashlight to negotiate the stairs. The siren got closer. It would be here soon. But these stairs were tough to navigate, so I took my time.
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  The squad car roared up to the front door just as I walked outside. Rex stepped out, gun drawn. When he spotted me waving like an idiot, he relaxed and moved to the back of the car and opened the door.

  "You shouldn't take chances like this!" Kelly cried as she hurled herself into my arms.

  I extracted myself. "I'm glad you got the message."

  "If you hadn't texted and mentioned the old Philips' place and told me to bring Rex and a squad car with sirens blazing, you might be dead now!" She hugged me once again. I hugged her back. It seemed like the thing to do.

  "That was good thinking," Rex said as he stepped up and hugged both of us.

  I pulled away, "I thought the sound of a siren would scare them off. Thanks."

  Rex shook his head as if he found it hard to believe I'd put myself in danger…again.

  "You'll need a team to process this place. It's where the killers have been hiding out. Evelyn's upstairs," I said as I walked around the side of the house to my car.

  Philby glared daggers at me until I opened the door and took her out. Apparently she wasn't keen on spy work.

  Half an hour later the whole place was being gone over with a fine-tooth comb. The body was carried out and placed in the back of an ambulance (the presence of which confused me as the body was…well…a dead body), and Kevin was carrying out a baggie with the silencer in it.

  "Red and Blue?" Riley said. He'd shown up a few minutes after Rex. Kelly had given him directions. "I'll send those names through the database at Langley and see what they have."

  "Ms. Wrath," Rex called out from the direction of the barn. "Could you come over here, please?"

  Riley and I walked into the barn, which was now lit up like Christmas.

  "Oh no," I gasped. In the middle of the room was a long table. The table was groaning under the weight of blocks of C-4. The stuff you would use to make a bomb. Or in this case, enough to blow up four city blocks in Chicago.

  "This isn't good," Riley said.

  Rex called the Sheriff's department and the Iowa State Police. This was going to take all three agencies to deal with this much material. Riley and I left him to do his job.

  The police didn't find much else. There were no telltale wallets or even a resume for Red or Blue. Okay, so I know it's ridiculous to think they were that stupid, but a girl can dream, can't she? It was after midnight before we were done and driving back to town in a weird convoy led by a pink cat.

  Rex made sure I pulled into my drive before taking off to get Kelly home. Riley followed me into the house. Philby jumped out of my arms the moment we'd cleared the threshold. She passed her three confused kittens and raced off to the kitchen. Apparently, she was more hungry than ready for a family reunion.

  I followed her into the kitchen and took out a bottle of wine with two glasses. By the time I got back to the living room, Riley was on both his laptop and cell, telling someone about Red and Blue. It gave me a moment to think.

  According to what they'd said back at the old Philips' place, Red was responsible for Vanessa slipping away with some box. They were here to find her and it. Whatever it was. And then a lightbulb switched on in my brain. I picked up my phone and dialed.

  "Hello?" Lauren's voice answered on the second ring.

  "Hey Lauren, it's Ms. Wrath," I said. Riley gave me a puzzled look but said nothing.

  "Mrs. Wrath?" the girl asked.

  No matter how many times I'd asked them in the entire history of our troop, the girls never called me Ms., only Mrs. I'd given up on arguing with them long ago.

  "That's right, it's me," I said. "I have to ask you a question."

  There was a moment of silence, "Well, okay. But I'm s'posed to be getting ready for bed."

  "It's about the puzzle box," I said, noting a sharp intake of air on the other end. "You didn't just find it in your bag at the church, did you?"

  "I can't talk about it," Lauren hesitated.

  "You can talk to me about it. Remember when we had that workshop on trusted adults? Well, I am one."

  Riley stifled a snicker, and I glared at him.

  "I don't know…" she said slowly.

  "What if I told you it's important? For a spy case?"

  "Really?" Lauren's attitude changed. "Like a life and death situation? Something like that?"

  I nodded, even though I knew she couldn't see me. "That's exactly right."

  "Well…" the child said. "I guess it's okay then."

  I waited. Nothing. Remember what I said about being very literal with the girls?

  "So?"

  "That woman gave it to me. She told me to hide it," Lauren said very matter-of-factly.

  "What woman?" A glimmer of light started to come on in my brain.

  "The one who went on the trip with us. The one we didn't know."

  "Mrs. Trout? You saw Mrs. Trout at the church?" I asked.

  Riley's eyes grew wide. He put down his cell and closed his laptop as he leaned forward. I switched the call to speakerphone. I'd have to tell him what she said anyway.

  "I went to the bathroom alone. I didn't take a buddy, like you told us to."

  "That's all right, kiddo," I said. "Your moms were there, so I didn't insist you use the buddy system."

  "She was in the bathroom. She looked a little freaked out," Lauren continued. "She handed me the box and asked me to hide it for her. Then she ran out of the bathroom."

  Well that explained where the box had come from.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.

  "Because I didn't do the buddy system, and it was stranger danger. I didn't want to get in trouble." I felt like I could see her standing there, a finger in her mouth, a worried look on her face.

  "I'm glad you told me now." I'd decided to cut her some slack. None of this was her fault.

  Riley got up and left the living room. He returned seconds later with the box.

  "Okay," Lauren said, and hung up. Our call was over.

  Riley used the sequence to open the box. He took the black pouch out and dumped the SD card into his hand.

  "It's not that," I said. "That's a red herring."

  Riley's right eyebrow arched. "To throw us off track?"

  I nodded. "To keep us from looking for the really important thing."

  Taking the box from him, I ran my fingers over the black velvet lining until I felt a bump. A bump that shouldn't have been there. Riley handed me a pocketknife I didn't know he had, and I pried up one corner of the fabric, pulling it back until whatever was in there was exposed.

  "It's a folded up piece of paper," I said as I eased it open.

  I was wrong. It was a photo of Red and Blue, looking at a map on a table. Written in the upper right hand corner, someone had written G 11 W.

  "At least we have a better look at those two." Riley smoothed the photo and took a picture of it with his phone. He was sending it to Langley for further study.

  "What's wrong?" Riley searched my face.

  Everything was wrong. "The map," I said, pointing to it.

  Riley frowned and squinted. It was kind of hard to see, since it was flat on the table in the photo. But I knew where it was.

  "It's Willow Grove, Iowa," I said as I reached under the coffee table and brought out the atlas. I opened it to the right page and pointed. "G," I pointed to the top of the map, "And 11," I pointed to the side. Very slowly I brought my right finger down while my left finger slid sideways until they met at Willow Grove.

  "That's only ten miles from here," Riley said. "What's so significant about Willow Grove?"

  "Nothing. Believe me. It's only a couple thousand people. It's what's going to be there that's important."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Remember the news from the other night? The president of the United States is going to be there tomorrow. He's doing a campaign stop at the fertilizer plant there."

  "Oh no." Riley finally grasped the situation.

  I nodded, "Oh yes. Whoever they're with, and if they have m
ore explosives, Red and Blue are going to blow up that fertilizer plant with the leader of the free world inside." And it looked like it was going to happen in just twelve hours.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Riley was immediately on the phone with the CIA while I called the Secret Service office in Omaha. They were the closest office, which meant they were on the ground there now.

  I was transferred to Agent Bill Savage, the officer already in Willow Grove. After explaining what we'd found out about a possible attack, he replied in a tone normally reserved for an incontinent, lobotomized Communist.

  "We've checked the plant, and everything's fine, Ms. Wrath," he grumped.

  Translation—we don't like the CIA, and stop acting smarter than us or we will tell on you.

  "Check again," I insisted. "Because what we've found could mean an assassination attempt on POTUS."

  POTUS is a fancy acronym for President of the United States. What's funny is that the Secret Service thinks that's a secret code. But I found out about it watching The West Wing on TV back in the 1990s. And the creativity stopped there, folks, because the First Lady is FLOTUS, and they even call the Supreme Court SCOTUS. Lazy, lazy Secret Service.

  Now that I thought of it—most government agencies used acronyms. There's CIA for Central Intelligence Agency, FBI for Federal Bureau of Investigation, and even CDC for Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Wait…shouldn't that be CDCAP? Seems like someone dropped the ball on that one.

  I heard mumbling in the background and went back to paying attention. Agent Savage—which, by the way, is an awesome name—was arguing with someone. Riley looked questioningly at me while he was on his phone. I rolled my eyes, which told him pretty much how it was going.

  "I think this is bullshit," Savage growled. "But bring what you've got over here, and I'll at least take a look at it."

  I knew he'd give in. No one, especially an agent from Omaha, wanted to see the president and half the town of Willow Grove, Iowa blow up just because they didn't check all the doors and windows.

  I hung up just as Riley did and filled him in on what was happening.