As he was finishing his gigot d'agneau pleurer (a fancy way of saying lamb), Rex grimaced. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it.
"Merry, I'm so sorry, but I have to take this. I'll just be a moment."
"Of course. Other women might be upset, but I was a spy, remember?"
Rex kissed my forehead and made his way to the front door. That gave me an opportunity to see what had made my phone go off a moment before. As I drew my cell from my purse, the matchbook fell out. Oh right. That.
I hadn't come here to talk about our relationship. I'd come here to investigate. The thought made me a little queasy, but I shrugged it off. I could still kill two birds with one stone. I glanced at the door. Rex was still gone. The maître d' wasn't at his post. In fact, I didn't see many patrons at all. How long had we been here?
The restaurant was small. Only one room. I'd already been in the bathroom, but I hadn't been in the kitchen. All that crashing from earlier made me suspicious. I could just slip away for a moment. At least to find out why the matchbook was in the knife that had almost killed me. Rex would just think I was Skyping people in the restroom again.
I stood up and walked purposefully toward the kitchen. If I was busted, I could just say I was looking for my waiter or that I'd wanted to offer my compliments to the chef. It was a good cover story. I've used more unbelievable stories.
No one appeared in an attempt to run me off as I pushed through the plush leather door leading into the brightly lit kitchen. There was only one person there, a chef, working on some sort of pastry.
"Hi!" I stepped in and looked around. "I just wanted to give you my compliments…"
Something was wrong. The chef was sweating and looking nervously to his left, to an area I couldn't see. Alright. Time to find out what was going on. I moved closer to the man.
"Honestly, that was the best French dinner I've had outside of Paris!" I joined him on his side of the stainless steel counter.
"Were you trained at the Cordon Bleu?" I asked, turning my head to follow his line of vision.
Gruff and Ferret stood just out of reach, glaring at me. Gruff had a gun trained on the cook. I looked at the chef with fresh eyes, and that's when I saw a small tattoo on his wrist that read CIA.
Another spy. The Agency knew about this place and had put an undercover agent here. Part of me wanted to give him hell for the tattoo. I mean, really! Why advertise that you're with the CIA? But there was a gun involved, and it was nice to have a colleague in this with me, so I decided to focus on that.
"Hello, boys." I casually picked up a meat cleaver. "What's up this time?"
The spy beside me didn't say a word.
"Did you enjoy your dinner?" Ferret sneered.
"You knew I was here?" I tossed the meat cleaver in the air, applying a spin and catching it easily.
"We saw you through the window," Gruff said.
"You guys didn't happen to be at a Girl Scout mud run this afternoon, did you?"
The two men looked at each other in confusion before shaking their heads. Well, it was worth a shot.
"So what's going on here, then?" I asked.
"That's what we'd like to know!" Gruff said.
Ferret elbowed him hard in the gut. Apparently the man had just given something away. But what was it?
I produced the matchbook and set it on the counter. All three of the men in the room looked at it quizzically. They seemed surprised. If that was the case, why were they here? Was there another player involved in this? One I didn't know about?
"What do you do," Ferret said with an evil smile, "when you have a gun trained on two CIA agents?"
The man next to me grunted in surprise.
"Shoot them," Gruff answered as he brought the gun up.
I threw the cleaver hard and watched it knock the gun out of his hand, causing a little bloodshed along the way.
"Hey!" Gruff shouted as he grasped his wounded hand.
Ferret was reaching into his pocket for something, so I grabbed a carving knife from the man next to me—who wasn't doing anything, I might add. Maybe he was a rookie? I threw the knife, and it embedded itself in Ferret's shoulder. It wasn't a lethal blow. I still needed some information.
"No!" the chef screamed as I hurdled the counter and threw Gruff to the ground. Tearing off a cord to a mixer, I hog-tied him before checking on Ferret, who was too stunned to move.
"Take it out! Take it out!" he shrieked.
I shook my head. "It's better to leave it in. Taking it out may cause you to bleed to death, and I'm not ready for that yet."
There was a gun in his jacket. I pulled it out and retrieved Gruff's as well.
"You weren't much help," I said to the chef who'd gone fetal on the floor and was sobbing. "Hey! You must really be new. They shouldn't have sent you on this assignment."
"What are you talking about?" the man cried.
"The tattoo. You're CIA."
His eyes bulged with recognition. "No! I'm not a spy! CIA stands for Culinary Institute of America! I'm a chef!"
Well, that explained a lot.
"These guys came in here and threatened me. Said they were looking for someone named Toad." He struggled to his feet and wiped his face. "You threw my knives! Those were insanely expensive! What's wrong with you?"
Rex walked into the kitchen and looked around from me to the two guns I held, to the meat cleaver embedded in the wall, to the hog-tied Gruff, and to the bleeding Ferret.
He sighed as he pulled out his cell and started to tap. "I can't take you anywhere."
CHAPTER TWENTY
The CIA arrived first, followed by the Des Moines police, who were thanked for their time but told they weren't needed here. The maître d' glowered in the corner while the chef was debriefed. I recognized one of the government officials as the extremely intimidating Deputy Director Lewis. I didn't know his first name. He was so scary that it was possible he didn't have one. He gave me a look that froze me in my place.
After explaining what had happened and showing them my new engagement ring (they didn't seem too excited for me), Rex escorted me to our table and insisted I stay put. He went back into the kitchen to give his statement.
I'd probably never find out why a matchbook from this place was in the knife from the mud run. If Ferret and Gruff knew, they'd talk to these guys, not me. This was classified and out of my hands now. I was retired and not needed anymore.
I called Riley. He answered on the first ring.
I filled him in on what had happened as quickly and quietly as I could. If the deputy director found me talking to Riley, I'd be busted.
"I should come down there," he said at last.
"I don't think that's a good idea. You should stay where you are."
"You shouldn't have to deal with this alone," Riley said.
Lewis came out of the kitchen, walked over, and sat across from me. I stuffed the phone into my purse. He appeared to be in his fifties, tall and fit with snow-white hair and steely gray eyes. Very scary.
"I was just calling my parents to tell them I'm engaged," I lied.
"Give the senator our regards," Director Lewis said. He folded his hands on the table. "I know you've given your statement, but I'm afraid that's not enough."
Great. "What could you possibly need from me? I'm retired, remember? I just walked into the kitchen to compliment the chef and found these guys who'd had a gun on me the other day…"
Lewis held up his hand. "I know who they are. And I know what happened. I also know that your fiancé thinks you had nothing to do with any of this."
That was nice to know. Rex had my back. It was a futile gesture but nice nonetheless.
"What I want to know," Lewis said as he leaned forward, "is where Riley Andrews and Maria Gomez are."
"What?" My shock was real. "Maria is missing? How? What are you doing to find her? Is she okay?"
Lewis studied my face with an efficiency that made me think he could read minds. "We don't
know. We do know that after the murder in Detective Ferguson's driveway, she warned you that we were coming. She disappeared shortly after that, and we want to know why."
"And Riley? Why do you want him?"
"The reason we haven't contacted you yet, Ms. Wrath, is that we wanted to see if Andrews or Gomez would come to you. We know Andrews is here somewhere. He's just not at your house at the moment."
"You had me under surveillance?"
Cameras. They must've installed cameras. I had a good eye and could spot things like that. But to be honest, I'd been a little distracted lately.
There were two ways I could go with this. I could lie and say he'd never contacted me. Or I could tell part of the truth and maybe they'd leave me alone. I had a feeling I knew which one would work.
"Okay. He came to see me. And he was staying at my house—not that I can ever get him to leave—but if he's not there, I have no idea where he is."
"I'm going to ask you one question, and I'd like a completely honest answer." Lewis had eyes that hypnotized you…like a snake.
"And that is?"
"What was your role in the movie Spy Diary?"
This was harder than the last question. I didn't know what the Agency knew. It could be nothing. Or they could know all about Riley's book and this was a test. My throat hurt as I tried to control my expression.
On the one hand, I'd never asked for this. I'd retired and expected to live out a very boring life in the Midwest. I never wrote one word of that story and didn't even know it had existed. Would they believe me?
On the other hand, did I have it in me to sell Riley out? My stomach twisted. It would be a crappy thing to do to my former handler.
You'd think they'd prepare you for this kind of thing in training.
"I'll need your answer now, please." Lewis frowned and lasers shot out of his eyes. Okay, they didn't really. But it felt like that.
I nodded. "Why not? I didn't know anything about it. I had no idea that someone had written up my entire career and made it into a movie. I was just as shocked as you were—although you probably knew about it earlier than I did."
"Did you know that Andrews had written a book about you?"
I looked up, startled. Not because of the book, but because of Lewis's choice of words—had written a book about you. He could've said a book about my career…my assignments…but he hadn't. Words really matter in this business. You have to use them carefully.
"I didn't…until just recently. After the movie came out." I felt like a balloon that had just deflated. With those words I'd condemned Riley to a prison sentence or worse…Greenland.
"And Ms. Gomez?"
"I have no idea where she is, and I'm worried now," I said with feeling. "I'm 100 percent sure she had nothing to do with this."
Lewis looked like he was about to say something, but instead got to his feet.
"What's going to happen to the chef?" I asked.
Lewis gave a half smile. "It turns out that we need a sous chef at Langley. He'll be sent there so that we can keep an eye on him."
"He didn't know anything." I explained about the CIA/CIA mix-up.
"We've known about that for a while. At first it was useful, but every now and then some cook does something stupid like wear a T-shirt with those letters on it or gets a tattoo that makes him a target for rival agents. We've talked to the school about it, but they won't change it." He shrugged. "But the chef in the kitchen will be fine."
That was good to hear, although I'd really liked his cooking.
"Congratulations again on your engagement, Ms. Wrath." Lewis walked away.
Looking at my new ring, I thought about how Lewis had said the book was about me. Not my career…me. And how Kelly was convinced it had been Riley who'd proposed. Did that mean he still had feelings for me? He'd kissed me the other night. Argh! Why did things have to be so complicated?
"You okay?" Rex stood next to me.
I shook it off. "They think Maria has something to do with this."
"So that's why you're so upset." Rex helped me to my feet.
"What did you think it was?" Could he see the fear behind my eyes?
"I thought it was because you came here to investigate and turned up nothing."
Uh-oh. "You knew?"
Rex nodded.
"Does that mean you want the ring back?"
"Not a chance." He kissed me and held out his arm. "Let's go home."
* * *
I didn't sleep. I paced around Rex's living room like a caged hyena, constantly looking across the street to see if any lights had gone on, indicating that Riley was there. I also tried calling Maria like a thousand times.
Rex went to bed. He had an early morning and knew I was worried. He didn't really know why. Would he still want to marry me if he knew I was worried about Riley too? He was probably furious that Riley had put me in this situation.
What a mess. I still didn't know what was going on. I didn't know who had attacked me at the mud run, and I didn't know why the restaurant was involved. I could handle all that, I guessed, except for the part about Maria.
It didn't make sense that she was in the equation. It had to be a mix-up. A trickle of doubt ran through my thoughts. Why had she vanished? A chilling thought popped into my head. Was Maria a double agent?
That would be horrible. Maria was my friend. She'd helped me so much that I could never repay her. The girls loved her. Rex and Riley trusted her. No, that couldn't be it. She must be investigating this on her own.
But why would she do that? Why risk her own career to look into a case that had nothing to do with her? That didn't make any sense.
Lewis had said that Maria was missing. He hadn't accused her of anything. That was something at the very least. I may have screwed over Riley, but I wasn't about to let Maria down. I needed to get hold of her somehow.
Was I being watched? The Agency knew Riley had visited. They even knew he had been staying at my house. Were there cameras everywhere? What I wouldn't give for a moment's peace and a burner phone. But how could I manage it? If my car was bugged, they'd know what I was up to. And they had probably bugged Rex's and my house.
Once this was all over, I was going to have Dad's intelligence committee look into that. I was a civilian. Bugging me seemed over the top.
It was late. Really late. In fact it was early morning. I'd practically worn a hole in the living room floorboards by pacing all night.
I had an idea. In minutes I was dressed in sweats and headed out the door. Let them think I was going on a little jog. Unless they'd bugged my underwear…which seemed unlikely and a little gross…they'd have trouble keeping up.
I took it a little easier this time—running lightly for a minute, walking for three. It was still pretty warm outside. It was silent. Dead silent. Nobody was out, which meant I'd notice a strange car tailing me.
Casual glances told me there were no surveillance cameras on the streets, so that was good. I wove my way around the city in a pattern that would confuse anyone trying to follow me. I strained to hear a snapping twig, heavy breathing, or the sound of a car engine idling. Nothing. I was truly alone.
I stopped in front of a new all-night convenience store, whose existence I'd always found strange. A town like Who's There didn't need all-night anything. Now I was grateful and went inside.
The bored teenager behind the counter barely looked up from her gossip magazine. She chewed her gum loudly, popping it every few seconds. Perfect. I bought a single-use phone and paid in cash.
"Is it alright if I use your restroom?" I asked.
The girl grunted and waved me off. Apparently I was annoying her. Good.
The lavatory was one large room. What was it with me and bathrooms lately? I looked at my ring and firmly shoved those thoughts aside. There was only one mission now, and that was to contact Maria.
I took the phone out of its packaging and turned it on. Tiptoeing to the door, I pressed my ear against it to see if there wa
s anything going on—not that the girl in front would notice. I turned the water on in the sink and called Maria's number. I was taking a chance, but my guess was that if they didn't know where she was, they weren't able to track her private cell.
"Merry," Maria's voice answered.
I didn't wait for her to say more. "Maria? Where are you? They're looking for you! I just got grilled in a French restaurant by Deputy Director Lewis himself."
"I'm close," Maria said.
"How close?" I asked.
The panel next to the sink swung open, and Maria Gomez walked in. She smiled broadly and gave me a hug.
"What the hell?" I asked when I'd pulled back.
"Riley set this up before he came to town. The girl up front is an agent."
I thought of the nondescript teenager. "You're recruiting young these days."
She smiled. "You can't be too careful."
"How much of my town is like this?"
Several months ago Riley had set up a fake knitting store as a safe house. I was starting to wonder how much of Who's There was real anymore. Riley and I would have to have a serious talk once I found him.
"Come on. There's a more comfortable place we can talk."
Maria turned, and I followed her, just getting into the dark hallway before the fake panel snapped shut behind me.
"How are the cats?" Maria asked as we walked toward a light at the end of the hall.
"Fine."
"How'd the mud run go?" She turned into a large comfortable room filled with sofas.
Two guys were sitting on one, laptops open. One smiled at me.
"Hi, Abed." I had no idea who the other man was.
I dragged Maria back to the doorway. "You brought these guys here? How can you trust them?"
My friend laughed. "Abed gets a lifetime of peanut butter sandwich cookies for his silence, and Kurt…don't worry about him."
She pulled me back into the room and shut the door behind me.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked as a large screen descended from the ceiling.
You might think it's weird to put a CIA safe house in a gas station in Iowa. But the truth is, there are stranger places. Like a poodle breeder's home in Kazakhstan or a shop that sells snow blowers in Bogotá, Colombia.
Mud Run Murder Page 18