Shot in the Dark

by Tracy Solheim

  Griffin toyed with his bottle of beer. “Kind of ballsy of her to hook up with the guy in such a public place. If Tseng doesn’t run in those circles, why pick the Kennedy Center on the night of an opera?”

  “The bigger question here is how Joss was so sure Tseng would be at the Kennedy Center last night,” Adam wondered.

  Griffin laughed out loud. “You probably should have asked her that while you were rocking the boat this morning.”

  Adam gave both his friends the one finger salute before checking his phone again.

  “Maybe I should stare at your phone and you can stare at this video because after three days, I’ve got nothing.” Ben blew out an exasperated sigh. “Whoever these tribesmen are—if, in fact, they are tribesmen—they went to a lot of trouble to conceal their identities. And since we debunked Doolittle’s theory that one of the people on this video is Sumner’s wife that only leaves more questions. The two who came after Doolittle needn’t have bothered. There’s nothing here to incriminate them.”

  “Maybe it’s not the people in the video, but something else that’s incriminating,” Griffin said before munching on a piece of celery.

  Ben slowly looked up from his laptop. “What did you say?”

  “I said maybe you’re looking at the wrong thing,” Griffin repeated. “It might not be something they filmed at all. The video may be irrelevant.”

  “But Shaw was convinced it was the video that had Mandla and his tribesmen after Joss,” Adam insisted.

  Griffin snorted. “The guy works at Fish and Wildlife. Is that even a real investigative arm of the government?”

  Ben began mumbling to himself as he pounded on the computer keyboard. “Or maybe that particular video is irrelevant. Which means we missed it.”

  As usual, Ben’s brain was twenty steps ahead. Adam’s chest began to squeeze. “What did we miss?”

  “Doolittle said they were supposed to meet someone at the elephant’s watering hole, right?” Ben asked.

  “The kid. Ngoni.” Adam edged closer to Ben so he had a better view of the computer screen. “He was going to tip them off on the members of his tribe who are suppliers to the trafficking ring.”

  “But what if the people Doolittle and her team encountered weren’t the guys Ngoni was going to finger?”

  The sailboat seemed to still in the water. An offhand remark Agent Shaw made replayed in Adam’s head.

  While you are working to protect the elephants, many of these tribes are fighting among themselves to protect their livelihood.

  “You don’t think those were Mandla’s tribesmen in the bush that day?” Adam asked. “Maybe it was another gang poaching from the poachers? And Mandla’s tribesman are after them now?”

  Ben nodded his head. He was already scanning through the rearview camera video from when the Mercedes was chasing them earlier that week.

  “Here!” He froze the video. “Look at that motorcycle. It was advancing on you, too.”

  Ben clicked through to several other angles he’d likely downloaded from private surveillance cameras in the area. He zoomed in on the intersection where the Mercedes initially tried to ram them.

  “It’s over there,” Griffin pointed to a fuzzy black image of a motorcycle just inside the frame. “Coming at them from the other direction.”

  Adam’s heart thundered. “We didn’t even see it because we were fixated on the Mercedes. Were they working together?”

  “I don’t think so.” Ben clicked on another image, this one from N Street. “See how the Mercedes veers in front of the motorcycle here? It’s almost as if they’re running interference.”

  “Are you suggesting that Mandla was trying to protect Joss?” Adam was having trouble making sense of Ben’s theory. “Not harm her?”

  Video from another angle documented the moment when the motorcycle abandoned whatever it was doing and skirted down Twenty-Second Street. The Mercedes suddenly veered off seconds later.

  “This video isn’t conclusive either way,” Ben conceded. “But, correct me if I’m wrong, it was one of Mandla’s tribesmen who stepped in to stop last night’s attack.”

  Adam’s head was beginning to throb.

  Ben tapped the keys again. “You saw Mandla at the zoo. I never checked the video from that area for any motorcycles fitting this one’s description.”

  The three men sat in a charged silence for several moments while Ben loaded videos from surveillance cameras within and around the zoo. They all jumped when a similar motorcycle zoomed onto the screen.

  “Check the plates,” Adam and Griffin ordered Ben at the same time.

  Ben brought up a split screen showing the tags from the motorcycle on N Street and the one at the zoo. They were identical.

  “Who owns that freaking bike?” Adam demanded.

  “Holy shit.” Ben’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. “You are not going to believe this. It’s registered to Sumner. It was purchased by his wife the week after they were married.”

  The three fell silent, all of them breathing heavily as if they’d just run a foot race until Ben’s fingers began pounding the keyboard again.

  “What are the odds that bike was at the Kennedy Center last night?” he asked as he scanned through videotape.

  Adam scrubbed a hand down his face. “None of this makes sense. Tseng wasn’t the one who tried to jump Josslyn in the hallway.”

  Except he’d been close by.

  “But you said the guy with the blade was wearing all black like this dude on the motorcycle?” Griffin pointed out.

  “Yeah. And Shaw said Mandla’s throat was slit. The guy with the blade looked to be proficient.” Adam slid out of the banquette seat. “And I, for one, want answers. Shaw questioned both men last night. He claimed the fight had nothing to do with Josslyn, but it didn’t look that way to me. And the fact that one of Mandla’s tribesman was there makes me even more suspicious. My gut is telling me he knows more than he’s saying.”

  “It’s after six,” Ben said.

  “The other day, he made a point to mention he worked until seven most nights.”

  Griffin stood, too. “I’ll drive. I have priority parking within three blocks of the White House.”

  “I’m headed back to my lab.” Ben gathered up his computer. “I can search videos faster there. If our guy on the motorcycle shows up at the Kennedy Center, I’ll let you know.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing,” Griffin said once they got to his car. “The president won’t be happy if Sumner is somehow involved in this. I served on Manning’s detail while he was running for office. Sumner was one of his key advisors during the campaign. There was talk the guy was angling for more than just a political appointment. He wanted to officially become one of the family.” Griffin glanced at Adam from the corner of his eye.

  “The president’s granddaughter is a little young,” Adam said before the full meaning of what his friend was saying dawned on him. It was followed quickly by a chaser of white-hot jealousy. “You’re shitting me? He wanted to marry Josslyn?”

  “Yep. Followed her around like a sick puppy.” Griffin headed for the Fourteenth Street Bridge.

  Adam rubbed his aching temple. “No wonder things were tense between them last night.” Then another thought hit him. “You don’t think Josslyn is zeroing in on Sumner’s wife because she’s jealous, do you?”

  Griffin laughed. “This is Doolittle we’re talking about. I’m pretty sure she’s happy he managed to get hitched to someone else. Although it would have been entertaining to watch her eat the man alive.”

  “She’s not what the media makes her out to be.”

  Tourists and workers streamed out of the Smithsonian as Griffin drove across the Mall toward Pennsylvania Avenue. “Oh? Then she’s not really headstrong and rash? Or a prima donna the press has made her out to be? How about a rebel?”

  Adam leaned his head back against the seat back and closed his eyes. He let out a beleaguered sigh. “She is all that.” And fe
arless and sensitive, not to mention smart as a whip. She cares about those in her orbit, both humans and animals. Hell, she earned a PhD studying love. And she’ll stop at nothing to helpothers. “But most of what you see portrayed in the media is an act. It’s all part of the protective shell she wears around herself to keep from getting hurt.”

  Griffin made the left onto Constitution Avenue in silence. They stopped at a traffic light in front of the Ellipse. “You seem to know her well. Am I to conclude this isn’t just a fling?”

  Adam didn’t bother voicing a denial. Griffin would know he was lying. The trouble was, as much as Adam wanted to quantify what was between him and Josslyn as a fling, it was more. At least, it could be more if he let it. Except if he allowed her to see all of him—really see him—she’d run to the farthest whaling outpost, never to return. She was right to call him a coward. But what she didn’t understand was he was doing it for her own good.

  “Marin said Josslyn knew about your dad,” Griffin said quietly. The pain in his friend’s voice made Adam’s head ache even more. “She knew something so private you couldn’t even tell your two closest friends. Your brothers. How does that happen?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Griffin stepped on the gas as they pulled onto Virginia Avenue. “Damn it. This case is complicated. But your life doesn’t have to be. Not when you have friends who can help sort things out. Do you think Ben and I are so shallow that we wouldn’t like and respect you if we knew about your father? Or where he was?”

  “No,” Adam replied vehemently. He’d trusted his buddies with his life on more than one occasion. As to why he couldn’t trust them with his deepest secret, well, as he said, it was complicated.

  A trio of Metro Police cruisers, their lights flashing, took up most of the VIP parking in front of the Department of Interior. Griffin managed to squeeze into a spot next to one.

  “Just so you know,” Griffin said as he put the car in park. “I wanted to beat it out of you, but Ben suggested we wait you out. So that’s what we’ll do. If it takes until we’re ninety and in diapers, we’ll always be around to ‘uncomplicate’ your life.”

  With a lump the size of Rhode Island in his throat, Adam followed him out of the car. They wound their way around the medical examiner’s van blocking the sidewalk.

  “I wonder what this is all about,” Griffin mused as they headed for the entrance to the building.

  “Well, if it isn’t my old friend Special Agent Keller.” A white-haired gentleman called out as he was coming down the marble steps. “Why is it you always show up when I have an unusual murder to solve?”

  Adam’s senses went on alert. Clearly this wasn’t a case of some ancient civil servant dying at his desk.

  “Detective Gerkens.” Griffin extended his hand to the police detective. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but . . .”

  The detective pumped Griffin’s hand. “I saw in the paper you’re marrying that chef of yours. I always liked her—even when you didn’t. Never could make her for a murderer.”

  Griffin broke out in one those ridiculous grins he always wore when someone mentioned Marin. “Best case I ever got wrong.”

  “What’s this about a murder?” Adam interjected before the two men started discussing china patterns. He needed to get inside to talk to Shaw.

  The detective quickly assessed Adam.

  “This is Special Agent Adam Lockett,” Griffin offered. “He commands the counter assault team for the Secret Service.” The detective whistled as Griffin continued. “Adam, this is Bill Gerkens, one of Metro’s finest.”

  “If I’m the finest, why do I always get the complicated cases? One of the big mucky-mucks at Fish and Wildlife was returning to the building. He never made it through the front door. Poor guy was felled by a poison dart.” The detective held up a plastic baggie with a handmade dart adorned with feathers. “Now that’s not something we see every day here in the District of Columbia, much less the United States.”

  “Who?” Adam choked out. But his gut already knew what his brain had yet to confirm. “Who was murdered?”

  Detective Gerkens consulted his notepad. “None other than the Director of Fish and Wildlife’s International Affairs Division.”

  “Shaw!”

  Adam was sprinting past Constitution Hall toward Seventeenth Street when Griffin caught up with him.

  “Get in, you idiot,” he yelled from his car window. “The Uniformed Division will sic the dogs on you if you go charging the gates to the Crown.”

  “I have to get to her,” Adam panted as he jumped into the car. “Whatever this is, it’s getting serious.”

  “I’ll say,” Griffin mumbled as he pulled into the West Wing parking lot.

  The car had barely slowed before Adam jumped out and dashed through the security checkpoint at the West Wing. He climbed the stairs, two at a time, and jogged along the West Colonnade to the Palm Room adjoining the West Wing to the residence portion of the White House. Passing the kitchen, he climbed two flights of stairs to the residence floor. He sprinted toward the Queens’ Bedroom where he nearly blindsided Terrie, the head housekeeper.

  “Agent Lockett,” she gasped. “Whatever is the matter?”

  “Josslyn. Where is she?”

  Terrie tried but failed to hide a conspiring look.

  “Where. Is. She?”

  The housekeeper huffed. “Josslyn went to dinner with friends.”

  The breath seized in Adam’s lungs. “Which friends?”

  “Her friend David and his fiancée, Lin.”

  Adam might have growled at the housekeeper.

  She jerked her chin up. “I overheard them mention something about the other woman’s cousin, I believe.”

  “Oh, hell, nah!” he shouted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  If Tseng wanted to be discreet about their dinner, he’d picked the wrong restaurant. Located in the historic Jefferson Hotel, La Plume was the destination spot for those who wanted to “see and be seen.” In other words, the dining room was filled with the gossiping socialites and politicos Josslyn tried to avoid at all costs. Unfortunately, in the name of preserving the African elephant, she’d be forced to spend a second night in their company.

  Heads turned like a bow wave as the maitre d’ led them through the elegant gray and white dining room with its walls adorned with wallpaper depicting the estate and surrounding landscape of Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. Once they’d reached the back of the restaurant, he pushed aside heavy velvet drapes to reveal a round table with four chairs arranged snugly around it, all situated within a small enclosed patio. A beautiful sculpture fountain adorned one wall while the others featured three windows shuttered to the night. Tseng lounged in one of the French provincial chairs, his eyes already glassy.

  Josslyn couldn’t entirely revise her earlier thoughts. While their dinner would be private, the other guests had an unobstructed view of who was coming and going into the alcove. They’d have enough information to fuel a social media storm about her. She suppressed a shudder at the thought and soldiered on.

  Before slipping behind the curtain, Josslyn noticed Agent Groesch was seated at a table nearby. The agent was clearly unhappy with the partition separating them. For that matter, so was Josslyn. Once again, she’d acted without thinking things through. She was grateful to have David and his fiancée with her. But, as much as she hated to admit it, she’d feel much better with Adam by her side. Not that she needed a loaded gun to protect her. It was just that Adam’s presence would allow her to relax and concentrate on finding out exactly how Tseng fit into this puzzle.

  Tseng didn’t bother standing at their arrival. She wasn’t sure if he was just arrogant or drunk. He indicated the chair to his left. As the maître d’ pulled it out for her, she noticed Tseng had put her in the one spot at the table that was hemmed in by the others. Josslyn discreetly tried to come up with an exit strategy while she shrugged out of her cashmere wrap and draped it over th
e back of the chair. David seated Lin and then himself.

  “Champagne,” Tseng announced. “We are celebrating tonight.”

  “Very well,” the maître d’ replied. “I’ll send the sommelier over right away.”

  Josslyn arched an eyebrow at their host. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

  Tseng reached over and squeezed Lin’s fingers. “The engagement of my beautiful cousin and your friend David.”

  While Lin smiled demurely at her cousin, David looked a bit sheepish. For the sake of their upcoming marriage, he hadn’t mentioned his suspicions about Lin’s cousin to his soon-to-be-wife. Once again, Josslyn was reminded how her efforts to expose the animal traffickers had a ripple effect to those around her.

  “You’ve been celebrating our engagement for the past two months.” Lin blushed. “Surely there is something else we can celebrate this evening?”

  “Perhaps there will be.” Tseng released Lin’s hand to pick up his cocktail. He peered over the rim of the glass at Josslyn, a slow grin forming on his lips. “What do you think, Dr. Benoit?”

  Josslyn was saved from responding to Tseng’s cryptic remarks by the arrival of the sommelier. He presented a list of wines and champagnes to Tseng who promptly waved it off.

  “You must go and see the wine cellar for yourself,” Tseng told Lin. “It is spectacular. They have a table in there that seats sixteen. Perhaps, if you like it, we’ll have Christmas there. You go, too, David. Take your time to pick out several bottles of champagne.”

  The sommelier’s eyes lit up at the mention of multiple bottles of champagne. Lin jumped from her seat, an elated expression on her face. David glanced warily at Josslyn. She nodded slightly indicating he should go even though she didn’t relish the idea of being left alone with Tseng. But she was here for answers. The sooner she got them, the better. Besides, Agent Groesch was within shouting distance.

  The drapes fluttered closed at their departure. An awkward silence settled over the little room. Josslyn took a sip of her water before diving in, head first.