“That does it. I’m out of here.” Taylor headed toward the door, only to find her way blocked by two hundred pounds of male pulchritude with big feet jammed into hand-stitched size 13 cowboy boots.
Her mouth worked vainly. “I-Izzy? What are you doing like . . . like that?”
Ishmael Teague’s broad shoulders were definitely shaking. “Trying to do my job, but hell, Taylor, you make it hard.”
“I meant what I said, Izzy. No more being pushed around and lied to. I want to know what happened to Rains and who gave me that injection.”
Izzy jammed a finger beneath the Day-Glo orange Afro wig he was wearing. “You have no idea how hard these wigs are to put on. I’m not even going to start on the whole panty hose thing.”
He glanced outside, eyes narrowed, and seemed satisfied with what he saw. “Stop thrashing around and I’ll fill you in. Just point me to the coffee first, will you? I’ve had three solicitations in the last ten minutes, and my male pride is damaged.”
Taylor couldn’t fight a chuckle. “I can’t imagine why. You’re a fine figure of a woman, and that orange number on your head is just about impossible to ignore.” She glanced at his chest and ran a tongue across her teeth. “I’d love to know what they said in the lingerie store when they sold you that bra.”
Izzy squinted down at his chest. “Too showy?”
“Not if you’re center stage in Vegas. Otherwise, let’s just say you’re hard to overlook.”
“Hell, a woman’s got to make a statement on the street. Forget about a classic little black dress and pumps. This body is built for speed,” he said, giving a tug at the impossibly large mounds straining beneath his tight sweater. He took a breath as Taylor handed him a steaming cup of not-quite stomach-scouring coffee from the room’s pot. Izzy drank gratefully, then pulled a briefcase from the chair near the door. “Let’s get to work.”
“Work?” Taylor blinked. It was a little hard to hold a serious discussion with a six-foot-four-inch cross-dresser in an orange Afro, a concho belt, and a size 46D bra without putting some real effort into it. “Where’s Jack?”
“Being debriefed. He’ll probably be a couple more hours.” Something crossed his face, but he looked away, punching in a code and shooting the locks on his briefcase. “Current security has been upgraded. I’ll give you more on that in a minute.” He tossed a photo on the veneer table. “First, have you seen this man before?”
Taylor stared at the grainy image. Smallish eyes. Narrow jaw. One scar beside his nose and lots of slicked-back hair. “No, definitely not.”
“How about this one?” Izzy tossed down another photo.
There was something familiar about this face. “I’ve seen him before.” Taylor rubbed her neck. “Don’t ask me where.”
Izzy nodded, looking pleased. “We’re running his data now. Jack picked him out in the photos taken after the robbery. The man’s an Albanian national with a juicy record in Europe. First time he’s worked in this county, as far as we can see.”
Taylor frowned. “What about the return call I made? Why did you answer?”
Izzy hesitated. “Rains had made a deal to go into witness protection, but he never got there. Jack and I found his phone, though, and you were the last person he called.”
Taylor sat back, looking sick. “Why call me?”
“I still believe he gave you something. Can’t you think of any time when you had contact with him?”
Taylor shook her head.
“What about Candace? Did she ever tell you anything?”
“She gave me some photos of my first climb at the gym, but that’s all.”
Izzy looked hopeful. “Tell me where and how many. I need to have them analyzed immediately.”
“They’re in the front of my desk. You think Rains left information on them? Something like a microdot?”
“Let’s leave that to my technical team. What about that wreath you received? Where’s that now?”
“With Sunny’s uncle. I didn’t know who else to give it to,” Taylor said defensively. “I didn’t know that you were involved then.”
“Nice of you two to pass on this information,” Izzy said irritably. He punched in numbers on his cell phone and ordered an immediate search of Taylor’s desk, then had one of his team contact Vinnie de Vito for the wreath. “Anything else you need to tell me? Keep thinking about anything you may have received, no matter how insignificant. The way we figure it, Rains couldn’t hide anything valuable in his lab or his apartment because he was afraid those places would be searched. You were safe territory.”
“Assuming I managed to stay alive.”
“You’re one tough customer, in case you don’t know it.” Izzy put a bag on the bed. “You’ve also got dynamite friends. Here’s a change of clothes along with some comfortable shoes.” He glanced at the spike heels standing neatly near the closet. “Forget the heels where you’re going.”
“But I have plenty of clothes back at my apartment.”
Izzy shook his head. “You won’t be going back there until this is settled. It’s not safe.”
“Are you trying to frighten me?”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.” The orange wig started to slip and Izzy shoved it back in place with a curse. “We’re starting to get leads from our South American counterparts, as well as our contacts here in the Albanian community. It’s only a matter of time until we locate Rains and his pals. Whether he’ll be alive or dead by then is the question. Meanwhile, you’re going to be safe where no one can get at you. Jack will see to that.”
Taylor stared at his hard face. “You’re worried about something else.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you’re edgy, and nothing makes you edgy.” Taylor sat back, watching his face. “There’s a problem. Your security isn’t tight enough, is it? I think you’re worried you can’t keep me safe. That’s why you’re moving me.”
Izzy swept the photos back into his briefcase and locked it. “Given the situation, staying mobile is prudent.”
Silence fell. “You believe that Rains was working on ricin?”
Izzy rolled his shoulders. “I can’t give you details, since everything’s level-two classified. But I can tell you a few things.” He stared at the briefcase. “Rains was being paid a lot of money to perfect a ricin vaccine as part of the work for his company, which was a defense contractor. A year ago he had some limited contact with a Navy scientist working along similar lines. Rains asked some questions about bioengineering techniques to increase the toxicity of the basic plant lectins. If he succeeded, he’d have both a superweapon and its only available vaccine.”
“Isn’t ricin a vegetable poison?” In her last book Taylor had considered killing a particularly nasty villain with a ricin injection, but she’d done him in with a heart attack during three-way sex instead.
“About a thousand times more toxic than cyanide. Don’t let the fact that it comes from a common bean fool you. Properly concentrated and dispersed via air, food, or water—ricin is odorless and colorless—it would kill thousands.”
“And castor beans are just about everywhere.”
“Impossible to lock up. Impossible to outlaw, impossible to track, since they’re used for all kinds of legal purposes.”
Taylor frowned. “Did Rains succeed? If so, why am I certain that he sold his research to somebody who isn’t exactly concerned with truth, justice, and the American way?”
When Izzy didn’t speak, Taylor realized that she had just crossed the line beyond what he was allowed to tell her. But that didn’t mean she had to stop speculating.
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “Candace told me that he was arguing with several men who pushed him around and threatened him. Those could be the ones who wanted that research.”
“I’m not corroborating any of this,” Izzy cut in mildly.
“You don’t have to.” Taylor had become fairly good at reading Izzy’s face, and his face wasn�
�t denying anything. She stopped, hit by a sudden, arresting thought. “Jack had Rains under surveillance during that convenience store robbery, didn’t he? When he realized Rains might be harmed, he was sent in as protection. You’ve known about Rains from the very start, haven’t you?”
Again Izzy said nothing, but there was a tight set to his jaw that Taylor took for a screaming yes. “And thanks to Rains and his double cross, they’re after me. For some reason, they believe I’ve got whatever Rains had. His vaccine or his notes. Something.” She shot to her feet. “But I don’t. You know that.”
“Maybe you do,” Izzy said quietly.
“You think I’m lying?” Taylor’s voice turned shrill. “Do you think I could hide a thing like that, information that could save thousands of lives?” Shock blazed into full-blown anger. “Because if you do, Izzy Teague, you can just take that high-tech briefcase of yours and shove it right where—”
“Calm down, Taylor. I believe you don’t know anything about it. But that doesn’t mean Rains—or even Candace—didn’t manage to pass something through. Go over every detail of every second you spent near Rains. Replay all your time with Candace, too. There’s got to be something we’ve overlooked.” Izzy leaned toward the window and eased open a slat in the blinds. “Where’s Rodriguez?” he muttered. “She’s taking way too long.”
“She hasn’t eaten for hours,” Taylor said. “She needed some time off.”
“Until this is done, there is no time off. Food and sleep are optional.” He hiked up his skirt, fished inside his boot, and pulled out a cell phone. “She knows that. The whole team knows that. If she can’t pull her weight, she’s out of here.”
He punched a number into his cell, eyes hard.
“Okay, now you’re finally frightening me.”
“Don’t waste your energy. Being afraid makes you weak. Instead, start working on those things we discussed. A lot of lives depend on how much you can remember.”
Talk about cold, hard pressure.
“Be prepared to move, too.”
“Where are we going?”
“Not decided yet,” Izzy said tersely. “Stop worrying. Some good people are working this case, Taylor. We know what we’re doing.”
Taylor sighed. “I’d still feel better if Jack were here.”
Izzy stiffened at a soft tap at the door. When it was followed by four rapid knocks, he relaxed slightly. “About time she got back.” He shot the bolts and opened the door, revealing a darkened parking lot. He let Rodriguez in and relocked the door. “Why the delay?”
“Davis had to go check on some activity near the street.”
“Anything important?”
“Just some local kids who’d had too much beer. They broke a few windows, then ran off when Davis showed up.”
Frown lines worked over Izzy’s rouged face. “You sure that’s all it was?”
Rodriguez sat down near the door and rolled her shoulders. “Relax, Teague. You’re not the only one who can run a case, okay? Now get lost and let me do my work.” Her head tilted. “Come to think of it, aren’t you supposed to be working the street? I hear you got a pimp outside who beats his women good if they don’t keep a ten-minute schedule.”
Izzy put a hand on his massive chest and twitched his hips. “Sugar, don’t you believe everything you hear. I got my ways, you understand?” At Taylor’s stifled laughter, he turned back and grinned. “What? You got a problem with a full-figured woman? Don’t you go dissing me, girl. I get bitchy when that happens.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Taylor’s smile faded. “Be careful.” She looked at Agent Rodriguez. “Both of you.”
“We always are.”
“That’s right, honey,” Izzy added, “this ole girl was born careful. Any man messes with me, he’s gonna be singing with the sopranos come Sunday. You can count on that.” With that, Izzy fluffed his orange wig, hitched up his concho belt, and swaggered outside.
“Who in the hell are you supposed to be?” Jack paced through the dark motel parking lot, matching steps with the vision in the concho belt and black cowboy boots.
“I’m the woman yo mama always warned you about, sugar.” The deep voice turned sultry. “Wanna have a good time? A hundred gets you something you’ll never forget.”
The Day-Glo wig twitched.
Jack snorted. “Dog-ugly, that’s what you are, Teague. Give a man a heart attack to get up close to you.”
Izzy batted his heavily mascaraed eyelashes. “Sweet little thing like me? Surely you jest.”
“Be careful, your jive accent’s slipping,” Jack said dryly.
Izzy gave a short but very graphic answer. Then his eyes turned serious. “What’d they throw you at HQ?”
“The local Albanians are finally talking. Looks like our man Viktor Lemka farms out to the highest bidder these days, usually in South America.”
“Any news about the missing Navy scientist?”
“Zip. He had a tracking chip on him, but it’s throwing out crazy readings. One minute he’s in Borneo, the next minute he’s in Dallas. Your guys back in the lab think there’s a high-tech jamming device overriding the signals.”
“Jamming devices happen to be my specialty. I’ll look into it as soon as I can.”
“Negative. You and I are both assigned to Taylor for the moment.” Jack’s eyes were hard. “That little stunt with the ketamine shook everyone up. They’re sure there’s a reason she’s so popular, even if we don’t know it yet.”
The rain thinned to a cold drizzle as the two men walked on without speaking. Izzy finally said what neither wanted to believe. “There’s a leak, isn’t there? A damned leak somewhere in our own team.”
“Looks that way,” Jack said grimly. “How else did they nab our bioweapons scientist the one day he was carrying notes? How else did they know Rains was going to be at that downtown charity event? Hell, you and I didn’t even find out until the last minute about what was going on that night.”
“Maybe it was simple luck or good surveillance,” Izzy mused. He shook his head. “Yeah, I agree. Shit happens, but it doesn’t happen this often. Not without help.” He stared out at the quiet parking lot. “If we have a leak, that changes everything.”
They watched some more. Then Izzy sighed. “Time for you and Taylor to go solo.”
“That’s what I figured. Of course, I’m counting on you to be here protecting our backs and finding that damned leak.” Jack smiled tightly. “While you finish hacking Rains’ phone, of course.”
Izzy looked resigned. “Where’s your car?”
“Around by the Dumpster.”
“Let’s go. Suck it in, Broussard. Gotta make this look good.” He made a big deal of reaching out and feeling Jack’s butt, then laughing raucously.
“Damn, man. Watch where you’re grabbing.”
“Shut up and walk.” Izzy draped an arm over Jack’s shoulders, stumbling slightly. “Smiling might help. You look like you just swallowed a rat.”
“That’s about how I feel.” Jack gave a smile that was closer to a grimace as he picked up a movement toward the street. “Who’s that?”
“Relax, that’s just Rodriguez’s partner. Tonight he’s the barrio’s biggest wino.”
Jack scanned the street again. “How long until we leave?”
“I’m still making the arrangements.”
Jack’s grimace grew more pronounced as Izzy bumped into him. “Woman who can’t hold her liquor shouldn’t drink,” the SEAL muttered.
“I can drink you under the table any day, muchacho.”
“Just how good are these agents, Rodriguez and Davis?” Jack continued quietly.
“Solid records, both of them. Twenty years of street time and a load of citations. They’ll handle things right, don’t worry.”
“After what’s happened this week, I’ll be worrying every second.”
When they reached the back of the parking lot, Izzy turned as if drunk and slid into the car beside Jack. In t
he shadows he pulled a map from one boot. There were no markings anywhere, nor would there be. For safety, all instructions were verbal.
“This plan should keep you two alive, so pay attention.” Izzy pointed to one corner of the map, slashing his finger eastward. “Here’s what I have in mind.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Taylor tried to sleep, but nothing was working. She closed her eyes, tossing and turning, fully aware of Agent Rodriguez’s quiet breathing from the chair near the window. Jack still hadn’t returned, and the weather had turned nasty, with rain hammering on and on.
Cursing, she stabbed her pillow and twisted onto her side, trying to blot out the drone of a television from a neighboring room. She was just drifting down into sleep when she heard a quick sequence of taps at the door.
One loud. Four short and fast.
She sat up stiffly, trying to see into the darkness as Rodriguez moved behind the door, her weapon raised but out of sight. “Who is it?”
A low voice answered. “Oliver Stone sent me.”
Rodriguez slid the chain and opened the door. “Glad to see you. Everything’s been quiet here.”
“There’s nothing I like to hear more.” Jack put a bag on the floor near the closet and took off his jacket, shaking off rain in the process. “Pretty nasty out there.”
“No problem. We have a van across the driveway. When do you want me to check back in?”
“Two hours would be good.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m still awaiting orders,” Jack said quietly.
The agent pulled on her jacket and nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”
As soon as the door closed, Taylor was out of bed, shooting across the room. She caught Jack so hard that they both swayed.
“Steady, honey. You’re safe.”
Taylor hadn’t realized until that moment how frightened she’d been, or how vulnerable. Only when she’d heard Jack’s voice had the fear churned up from all the little spaces where she had buried it.
She leaned back, studying his face in the dim light. “I have a few million questions for you.”
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