by Tony Lavely
Whoa! Cold hands. Beckie squeezed the hand she was holding, but Lisa didn’t respond. Well, maybe not such a good thing after all. Let’s see if I can get through. “Looks like you haven’t made it to bed yet?”
Lisa looked up. Her eyes were red, but dry. She looked back down at herself. “Yeah.” She sighed. “Actually, I was lying on the bed…” She plucked at the top. “I only brought a shirt to sleep in, so…” She met Beckie’s eyes for a brief moment. “I wondered… How did Mr. Jamse die? I mean…” She rushed the next few words out. “… you said, he died and no one followed up on that…” She looked up, dread in her eyes, now. “I’m really stupid, I guess—”
“Don’t ever tell me you’re stupid!” She reached to grab Lisa’s chin, holding her head to glare at her. “It’s a particular peeve of mine. Ask Amy. Doing a stupid thing, leaving aside whether you have, is not the same as being stupid. Understand?”
When Beckie released her chin, Lisa shrank back on the chest until her butt pushed against the bed. Beckie grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. “Asking that question isn’t stupid. There’s a couple reasons no one followed up, I suspect. First, it would have been on me to tell you. At least, while I was there. And second, he’s dead ’cause I as good as killed him.”
The terror in Lisa’s eyes became shock and disbelief, then cautious understanding as Beckie repeated the story for her. “So you can guess why I didn’t want to tell you before.”
“I guess so! But—”
“But nothing. It’s good I have the chance to reinforce what Amy said earlier, in the context of what I just shared with you.
“You’re picking a job, a livelihood, where chances of an injury or violent death are above average… maybe higher than fifty percent. It is not a ‘safe’ profession like, you know, dogcatcher or teacher or policeman. Or policewoman. Making that choice will affect you forever, once it becomes known.” She grabbed at her ponytail, then pushed Lisa through the doors to the balcony lanai. Two recliners stood there; she pointed to the closer one and made her way to the far one. “I want to remind you what Amy said: you won’t get an ‘Undo’ on most decisions on life, and you’ll never get to see in advance what will happen once you’ve made a decision.”
Beckie rolled onto her side to face Lisa. “I want you to think long and hard about joining us… not just what you think are the, romantic, I guess, aspects, like helping people and righting wrongs. Think about dying. Think about getting injured really badly, so badly that you’re not sure you want to live that way. Think about having to kill a friend… a lover, to protect them from the enemy… and to protect the team, too, to deny the enemy a chance to interrogate a captive. Hell, just think about having to kill an enemy. An enemy who turns out to be a twelve year-old kid who’s just learned to fire the AK-47 she can barely carry.
“I’m probably going to offer you the chance you want, and you will have an effective undo, til you’re actually involved in operations, anyway, ‘cause I’ll let you go anytime you ask.”
Lisa’s big eyes flashed in the light from the slider. “Not after I’m in operations?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah, you’ll be able to leave any time. But once you get involved, your name gets publicity whether we like it or not, and some people can hold a really long grudge. Another thing to think about.”
Lisa held up her hand. “I ask a stu… well, an inexcusable question, anyway, and you forgive me. Why?”
Beckie gazed out over the sea to the south. “Forecast is for rain by morning. Maybe heavy. You can see the clouds off to the west, though the wind’s from the east.” She put her feet up and watched the waves.
Minutes passed. Beckie had two thoughts: the nice scene before her, and, yeah, why… Wait. Beckie thought a moment more. Her hands, her sleeplessness, her whole attitude. Ian’s death bothers her. Why? Hero worship? Another minute of contemplation brought the realization that it could hardly be anything else. So… How can she wrangle that into a position here? And why would I allow her to?
Because she’s got potential, damn it! She had the desire and nerve to find us and convince me to give her a chance. So, she’s eighteen, Shen said. Probably no more experienced than Amy was, before the Keys. She said she never slept with anyone. Believe her? Yeah, she’s got no experience, thinking of the awkward posturing in the chair.
Maybe I’m wrong, but I can wait and watch. We’ll operate assuming she’s what she says, and in her mind, wants this so much she’s not being careful about all the details.
Wet splashes hit her legs; big drops splattering. A flash lit the sky to their south. “I guess the forecast’s right,” she said. “We’re safe, but we’ll get soaked if we stay, which is fine by me.” No need to tell her or anyone about the times she and Ian lay there in a downpour, loving it and each other. And the rain will hide my tears. “If you’d rather…”
“No,” Lisa whispered. “But it must be nice to do this…”
I won’t finish that.
The downpour lasted twenty minutes or so. “Com’on, girl,” Beckie said as she stood and reached a hand to Lisa. They were both soaked, shirts clinging to their bodies. They went back to the bedroom and Beckie directed Lisa to the bathroom. “Warm shower is prescribed. I’ll put dry clothes here.” She patted the corner of the dresser.
“I can change out here?”
“Or in there, or on the balcony, or out on the beach. I admired you when you got here, and I’m immune. Shower!”
Shower finished, Beckie sent Lisa back to her own room, then spent her shower wondering if not pressing the girl was the right thing.
At 6:45, Beckie’s alarm made its impolite summons. She rolled over, but that didn’t block the noise. Sighing, she rolled out of the bed. A glance out the open doors assured her the heavy weather had not faded away. When she stepped in a puddle of water, she said, “Fuck! Better clean that up before Maurice finds it. He’ll skin me, then have me scrubbing all the floors!” Towels went down to soak up the invading rainwater, and Beckie relaxed.
Outside the door to Lisa’s room, she called, “Okay, Lisa. Breakfast.”
A faint voice muttered something that hit Beckie as wrong. She opened the door.
Lisa was half-in, half out of the bed. Her shirt was gone, probably a casualty of the girl-sick covering Lisa, the bed and the floor between her and the bathroom. Before Beckie could move, Lisa slid the rest of the way to the floor.
“Maurice! I need you!”
She ran to lift Lisa, to get her to the shower and cleaned up. She’d made about two steps when Boynton appeared at the door. “Beckie? Ms Grove is… undressed?”
“She’s sick, too. Help me get her over to my room, then call Millie, then find a cleaner, please.”
After a battle in the shower that nearly ended in disaster twice, Beckie dropped Lisa, still damp, into her bed. Before she’d caught her breath, though, Millie ran up the hall and into the room, calling the whole way. Two nurses followed in her wake.
In less than a minute, Beckie told the doctor everything of import, from the evening discussion during the nighttime balcony excursion to the scene when she’d gone to wake her.
Millie listened, sent one of the nurses to collect whatever vomitus hadn’t yet been cleaned away, then pushed Beckie out the door. “You go eat. It looked like Boynton was keeping everyone away.”
Breakfast had a somber tinge; Beckie had survived her light bouts of morning sickness, and thought herself past that now, but the scene this morning had played havoc with her tummy. She managed to sip the coffee—decaf, of course—and nibble a dry bagel while the others tossed possibilities back and forth.
After thirty minutes, Millie appeared in the doorway. She waved off Boynton’s offer of coffee before saying, “Food poisoning, maybe. Allergic reaction, maybe. Accidental, maybe. Self-induced, maybe. From dinner, not likely. I gave her an IV to replace the fluids, and we’re taking her to the hospital. Come by after your meeting with Willie.”
The meeting with Wil
lie was derailed much as breakfast had been. As they talked about Lisa and the possibilities that Millie had suggested, Beckie realized that, if it wasn’t accidental, and it had happened on the taxi, Dylan might also be at risk, whether the incident was intentional or not.
A quick call to Amy sent her off to check on that, and anything else that might have happened in the terminal at Fort Lauderdale or on the way.
As much done as could be, they went on, discussing Sam’s conversation that very morning. He voiced his observation that Bakir’s troops still appeared to be working with Dalila, though the man had not been in evidence. Still, the deposits, whether from Bakir or Dalila or their principals, kept coming, and Sam wasn’t concerned from the group’s point of view, so they agreed there was no reason to ask him to pull back. Yet.
“And last for today, Willie, you had something we need to look at?”
The big man nodded. “The escort job that Sue and Rich are doing the planning for. From what I’ve heard, it seems like too much pay for what we’re doing. No sense of proportion, and it bothers me.” He pulled out a pile of papers and pointed to the description, and the caveats. “This clause in particular, where we take all risk if the delivery is delayed more than… more than four hours. No matter what.”
“Wow! How’d we miss that? And look. A nice little penalty clause if that happens. Seriously, who vetted this? When was it signed?”
The answer didn’t please either of them: The contract had been delivered during the three days of Ian and Kevin’s funerals, and the rider containing these clauses hadn’t been noticed. “Or,” Beckie said, “if I was properly cynical, maybe it wasn’t there at all when the original got signed. Damn. Well, I’ll take this by Rou on the way to see Millie. She can give us an idea, since one of her people signed it. I’ll bet we’re stuck with it, so give Sue a heads-up to look for anything out of place. And Willie?” He looked at her before standing. “Thanks for finding it beforehand.”
When Rou Go saw the contract, Beckie feared that the woman would commit seppuku right there in front of her. “Seriously, Rou, what’s done is done. Now I need to understand if there’s a way around these little clauses, and what our exposure is in the worst case.”
“I know, Beckie. I’m just concerned that other things might have been missed, now, and I have to design a process to prevent it. Which means finding out what happened here.”
“How could the timing have been intentional? I mean, could these people… they couldn’t have arranged Ian’s death, or even Kevin’s, just to take advantage of our distraction. They couldn’t.”
“It’s not impossible, but I agree, highly unlikely. More plausible to me is that they were watching, and when the moment came, they took advantage.”
“I like that a lot better. But it means they’ve been pretty observant, and under our radar. This is a job Ian originally vetted, so…”
“Be careful, Beckie.”
“Too right I will. You see what options we have. Shoot the info to Sue, and to Willie. I’ll get with them later to talk it over. And don’t berate Kerry too much, but see if she remembers anything unusual when she got the contract. Like it wasn’t complete, or anything like that.”
“I will. However, I’ll have to do something about it.”
“Talk to me before you make it official, please.”
Rou nodded as Beckie departed to find Millie.
The nurse pointed her to the atrium rooms. In the second one she checked, Millie was conversing with a tall man at the foot of the bed where Lisa was lying. She might be awake, though it’s not certain. The white-coated man glanced over, noticed Beckie, and touched Millie’s arm.
“Beckie, good,” Doctor Ardan said. “Do you remember Doctor Curt Bennet?”
“I have to say I don’t, I’m afraid. My apologies.”
“No matter. It was the briefest of introductions the day you returned from that trip last month.”
“Ah. When I saw Sam. Still, that’s no reason to forget.” She looked at Lisa, then back to the doctors. “I’ve clearly forgotten his specialty, too, but could I guess internal things, since you’re talking where Lisa’s sleeping off whatever happened to her?”
“Right you are,” Bennet said. “I’ve been looking over the little we know about Ms Grove, and I’m pretty sure… not positive, but pretty sure that she’s self-inflicted. There are no others affected, and she had nothing unique at dinner. Dylan didn’t see her with anything but the sandwich the counter man at Fort Lauderdale gave her.” He glanced in Lisa’s direction.
As he did, Millie continued, “Amy told us that she’s pretty intense about being here; maybe too intense, and something happened last night that Amy wasn’t clear about.”
Fuck! Maybe I should have talked a little more last night. But… “I told you we talked a little. While I can see that she could have gotten the idea she wasn’t… welcome, I thought we got past that, and she was convinced she was okay. For now, anyway.” Beckie reached for her ponytail, to drag it around in front of her. She undid the holder and redid it. Still fingering her dark brown hair, she said, “How long til she’s awake?”
“Right now, if you still want to talk to me.” They all turned to see Lisa, propping herself up on her elbow and looking like, well, like death warmed over. She was pale, and shaking. Her eyes were red and her face puffy.
“Fucking right I do! How long until I can take her and beat some sense into her, Doctor?”
“I want Ms Grove here until she has some solid food and keeps it down. You can find other things to do while we wait, and the lab finishes their work. And I have a chat with her.”
Beckie pulled out her phone to check the time. “I’ll expect to find her at my doorstep no later than three, Doctor Bennet. Make her well; she has too much promise to lose.” She turned and stomped out.
She and Boynton shared lunch while she thanked him for the help he’d given Dylan at dinner. “And I’ve been thinking about your hints that I’ve been having a little too much wine. Cut me off, please.”
When his mouth closed again, he said, “Are you unwell, Rebecca?”
Whoa. He’s getting formal; I don’t know what that means. But it’s not time to tell him. “Not a bit, Maurice. I’ve decided to listen to your advice, that’s all.”
“That is slightly unlike you. I worry.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, truly I am.”
“I believe you. May I make an observation?”
“Of course you can. And while you do, I’m going to get ready to see Sue. Go ahead, I’m listening.”
“You have a certain… How shall I describe it? A glow about you. I’ve seen it before, but not on you. You’ve been drinking decaffeinated coffee and tea. You already have been drinking less Chardonnay and now you ask me to ‘cut you off’ completely.” He paused a moment, smiling slightly. “I believe, Mistress Rebecca, that you are carrying a baby.”
Well, damn. I should have known, I guess. “Of course. Nothing gets by you, does it?”
“I could not perform my duties otherwise. When are you due?”
“End of March. I will have your head if anyone hears of this, do you understand?” She gave him a twisted smile. “Won’t be long before everyone will be able to tell.” She chewed her lower lip a second. “If Lisa knew me better, she would know now, after we got drenched on the balcony.”
“I did observe an uncommon number of towels soiled over the past night, even given Ms Grove’s… indisposition.”
Beckie stood up, laughing all the way. “See what I mean? Everything! I’m gonna go see Sue. Silence, remember?”
“I would never forget. Your secrets are safe with me. Take care.”
On her way to visit Sue, Beckie wondered about Boynton’s final volley. What secrets did he think he was holding? I’ll have to ask him… if I can find the nerve!
“Hi, Sue!” she called from the dock. “Everybody here?”
“Yeah. Of course they are. When the boss
calls a meeting—”
“Don’t start that crap with me, girl! I get it from everyone else, so…” She let it drop as Sue ushered her into the small front room of her home on Cottage Cay.
Sue was laughing with her as they found places to sit. Beckie became serious. “We all know what Willie found in the contract you guys are setting up. Has Rou gotten back to you?”
“Contract’s pretty iron-clad, she said. The full penalty comes into play if we either fail, or walk away.”
“Yeah, I agree, that’s what I read. So… Now that you are looking for them with all your hearts, what are the risks? What are the odds that they intend us to fail, to maybe damage our rep and our financial position all at once.”
Rich mirrored Sue’s expression; both were downcast, despondent about something. “Okay. I won’t kill you, and I promise to stand between you and Willie until he calms down.” She stepped in front of Willie’s chair. They all knew he’d never do anything like that, to any of them.
“When we began with that possibility,” Rich said, “it jumped right out at us. The whole thing is set up to fail. Not badly, no loss to the principals, but enough to bring the default clause into play. God damn it, Beckie, I’m sorry we didn’t see it!”
“Find the end of the line, Rich. Kerry’s likely to take the brunt of the blame, not that it’ll change anything. What options do we have? Will more people help? And, what did you say? No loss to the principals? That means the delivery’s successful, just late?”
“It looks like it. We didn’t look at all the elapsed times carefully enough.”
“For that, you can stand in the corner with Kerry. Tell me, why deliver the goods then? If we’re being set up, maybe we should just ‘lose’ the package.”
“Well…”
“Never occurred to you, right? Good. That’s not where I want your minds to go. But, is it sensitive? Perishable? Alive? A person, for God’s sake? Do we know?”