No Money Down

by Julie Moffett

  Agent Simmons looked startled. “That’s not yours?”

  “No. I don’t carry a purse…or a pouch for that matter. It’s his. Dr. Nickelward’s.”

  He unzipped it and pulled out a stack of bills. Whistling, he shoved the bills back in and stood. “I’m afraid we’re all going to have to go to the police station now.”

  “Whoa.” I held out my hands. “I didn’t steal that. He left it behind. You can ask the bartender. I was going to try and find him today to return it.”

  “It’s the truth.” Basia stood. “Lexi didn’t take it.”

  “Then why didn’t you give it to him before he left?”

  “He just took off and then I passed out.”

  “Passed out?”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot that part.”

  Basia snorted. “The creep drugged her wine.”

  Alarm crossed Agent Simmons’s face. “Drugged?”

  “Well, I’m not sure he drugged me. But shortly after he left, I passed out.”

  “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “Well, I’m not certain he drugged my wine. I had a glass before that.” Great. Now he thought I was a drunkard. “Ah, maybe the wine was too strong. Regardless, he left before I passed out.” Jeez, now I sounded like a total wino.

  Agent Simmons typed something. “Okay. I’m afraid the presence of this money means you’ll need to be further debriefed.”

  “Debriefed about what?”

  “I can’t say at this time. Please come with me. Both of you.”

  “Hey, what about the beach? Vacation, remember?”

  “I’m sorry.” Agent Simmons motioned toward the door. “I’m going to have to insist. This way, please.”

  “No.” I stopped, planted my hands on my hips. “I’ve had a lot of bizarre things happen to me lately. The police can come to me if I need to be debriefed. I don’t know you from Adam and there is no way, badge or not, I’m willingly getting into a car with you, and that’s final.”

  Ten minutes later the hotel lobby was filled with police, one of whom politely escorted Basia and me to a police cruiser. As we climbed into the back of one of the cars, I’m pretty sure the entire hotel came out to watch us.

  Basia ran her fingers through her hair. “Good plan, Bond. Now everyone in the hotel watched us be taken away by the local authorities like we’re common criminals. My picture will be showing up all over Facebook and I didn’t even get a shower yet.”

  “You know, if we were locked in the trunk of a psycho’s car, you’d be singing a different tune.”

  She blew out a breath. “True.”

  Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the seat. I was still wearing the clothes I’d slept in, hadn’t brushed my teeth in twenty-four hours, and my hair hadn’t seen a comb in about as long.

  When we got to the police station, Basia and I were separated. Someone gave me a cup of coffee and escorted me into an interrogation room. A different guy, this one thin and in a tie, came into the room and showed me his badge.

  “Agent Bradley Mandel, Secret Service.” He shook my hand across the table. “I appreciate that you are willing to come in to speak with us.”

  “I told Agent Simmons everything I know.”

  “Of course you did. Thank you for your cooperation. Would you mind telling me the same story again?”

  I sighed and once again recounted everything that had transpired. Agent Mandel didn’t interrupt me once, but checked his iPad several times, possibly referring to the notes I presumed Agent Simmons had sent him.

  “Remind me again, when did Dr. Nickelward hand you the pouch?”

  “He didn’t hand it to me. He left it at the bar. The bartender pointed it out and tossed it to me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the bartender to keep it?”

  “I don’t know. It was no big deal. I didn’t know what was inside. Figured I could give it back to him the next time I saw him.”

  “You planned on seeing him again?”

  “No. Not really. As I told you, he went all psycho on me at the end. But I considered it plausible that I might run into him again.”

  “And if you didn’t?”

  “I would have given it to the hotel staff and had them track him down.”

  “So, you knew he was staying at the Hilton?”

  “Not for sure. Just a logical deduction seeing as how I met him twice in the bar there.”

  “After you left, you looked inside the pouch?”

  “Actually, Basia unzipped it. I looked over her shoulder.”

  “Did you take anything from the pouch?”

  “Not then. Later I dumped the pouch, but put everything back inside.”

  “Why?”

  “Curiosity, I suppose.”

  A slight knock on the door caused us both to look over. Agent Simmons stepped in the room, shaking his head.

  “Not it. Sorry.”

  Agent Mandel frowned, looking over at me. “Miss Carmichael, at any time, at any of your meetings, did Mr. Nickelward give you anything, ask you to keep something or set up another meeting?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “One-hundred-percent certain.”

  “Are you also certain you didn’t leave anything out that he might have told you about his research? Please think back. It’s important.”

  “I told you, pretty much verbatim, everything we spoke about.”

  Agent Mandel put both hands face down on the table. “Before you offered to help him with his computer, you had never seen Mr. Nickelward or met him before?”

  “No.”

  “He didn’t say where he was going when he left?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Okay. Thank you. We would ask that you don’t leave the area without informing us.”

  “I’m only here until the end of the week.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “No. But we might have more questions.”

  “Now is it my turn to ask a question?”

  “You can ask. I can’t promise I can answer.”

  “Why is the Secret Service involved? What did Dr. Nickelward do?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Even though I’m somehow involved.”

  “Especially because you are somehow involved.”

  Frustrated, I pushed my chair back and rose from the table. “Are you keeping the pouch and the money?”

  “Yes. I don’t want you to discuss this with anyone. If you see him or he contacts you, please call me immediately at this number.” He handed me a business card and I tucked it in my pocket.

  He opened the door and I went out into the waiting area. Basia jumped up from a chair.

  “See, I told you that Nickelward guy was a psycho. The Secret Service is after him. Did you find out what he did to get all that money? Did he steal it? Is he a bank robber or something?”

  “I don’t know.” That wasn’t exactly a truthful statement as I had a pretty good idea what was going on, but I didn’t want to say it in the middle of the police station with everyone listening.

  A policeman approached us and told us he’d be taking us back to the hotel. We followed him to the parking lot and we climbed in the back of the cruiser. He dropped us off and we walked into the lobby. The desk clerk gave us a startled look and then disappeared into the office behind him.

  I steered Basia toward the stairway. “Uh-oh. I’ve got a bad feeling.”

  “About what?”

  “Miss Carmichael? Miss Kowalski?”

  I turned around. A thin lady in a dark suit with a gold nametag that said Melissa Johnson, Manager, motioned to us.
“Would you come with me, please?”

  I sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  Chapter Six

  “Now what?” Basia fumed. “I haven’t even got a shower yet this morning.”

  “Please. It’s important.”

  I followed her, and after a moment I heard Basia coming along as well. The woman led us into her office and closed the door.

  “I realize it is none of my business why you were escorted off hotel grounds by the police, except that if it involved drugs, illegal substances or prostitution, we are entitled to be informed.”

  I held up my hands. “Whoa. Jeez. No prostitution. No drugs or illegal substances of any kind. They wanted information. We are not in any trouble. You can call and ask.”

  “If you’re not involved in any trouble, why did someone break into your room?”

  Basia jumped out of her chair. “Someone broke into our room? I left my cell phone in there.”

  In spite of my extreme fondness for all things hi-tech, I didn’t own a cell phone. I made the decision to go cell-free in a conscious effort to keep my sanity. My mother, a former beauty queen, had made it her life’s mission to find me a suitable, rich husband. If I had a cell phone, I’d likely have to avoid at least forty calls a day from her. That wasn’t an estimate but a conservative prediction. Guess it was a good thing I didn’t have one, because it’d probably be in someone else’s hands by now. In fact, I didn’t have anything worth stealing in the room, although I suppose I could nurture a hope that someone had taken off with my new bathing suit. Hell, maybe the old one too. Then I could skip the beach altogether and play Quake with Elvis for the rest of my vacation, if people would stop bothering me.

  Melissa walked around her desk, picked up a clipboard and began reading something. “Security noticed the door to your room slightly ajar and called out. When no one answered, he went inside. The room had been searched. Clearly someone had been looking for something. Cushions and pillows were slashed. Clothes were strewn everywhere. All in all, we estimate a cost of more than six hundred dollars’ worth of damage.”

  Basia staggered back to a chair and sat down. “We can’t be held responsible. We weren’t even there.”

  Melissa nodded. “I know. You aren’t being held responsible. We’ll file a claim with our insurance company. However, as manager of the Crazy Parrot Hotel, the safety of our guests is paramount. I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises.”

  I protested. “What? We’re the victims here.”

  “I realize that. Truly. It’s just that you two seem to have been the targets of vandals. The fact that you were led away by police and your room vandalized at the same time leads us to believe this was not a coincidence. Your presence is creating a potential danger here to other guests. Besides, even if we wanted to move you to another room, we couldn’t. We don’t have any more rooms available.”

  “So, you’re kicking us to the curb?” Basia had an indignant expression on her face. “Just like that?”

  “You can retrieve your things and let us know what, if anything, is missing. We’ve already taken photographs and filed a police report.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Jeez. This vacation sure isn’t going as planned.”

  Basia huffed. “Well, just so you know, I’m so not recommending this hotel to my friends.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the office.

  We headed up the stairway and entered the room. Melissa hadn’t been exaggerating when she said the place had been trashed. It was a small room and whoever had tossed it had done a thorough job.

  Our suitcases were thrown on the floor but were otherwise undamaged, so I started collecting my clothes and tossing them in. Sadly, I found both bathing suits. Basia couldn’t find her cell phone.

  Basia grumbled as she threw things in her suitcase. “Who did this? Why? What were they looking for?”

  “My best guess is the money.”

  “We should have left the pouch with the bartender.”

  I found my toothbrush wedged in the chair. I brushed it off and tossed it on top of a small pile of underwear. “You know the saying about hindsight, right?”

  “Not helping. How are we going to find another hotel room?”

  “Hmm. Let me think. Oh, the internet. Except I don’t have my laptop.”

  “You should thank me. The robbers would have it by now.”

  “Crap. I hate it when you’re right.”

  “Don’t worry. I knew those geek guys would come in handy.”

  I glared at her from across the room. “Didn’t you beg me to rip the pants off of a more studly guy?”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. Studs are good. But in our particular situation right now, geeks are better. Come on. We’re supposed to be meeting them now anyway.”

  I tossed the last of my things in the suitcase and zipped it up. Basia pushed hers off the bed and stood it, snapping the pull handle upright.

  “We can’t pull these down to the beach.” I opened the door and rolled my suitcase out.

  “Which is why I’ll go take care of our bill while you go ask the geek princes if we can borrow their computer.”

  “You’re better at social interaction. You talk to them.”

  “You speak their language.”

  “Jeez. All right.”

  I carried my suitcase down the stairs and handed it off to Basia. The sun blinded me as I walked down to the same stretch of beach where we’d met them the first time. Sure enough, there they sat in identical swimsuits beneath a big umbrella. Elvis lifted a hand in greeting when he saw me.

  I crawled under the umbrella and sat on a corner of the towel.

  Elvis lowered his sunglasses. “Nice bathing suit.”

  “You’ve probably noticed I’m in the same clothes I wore yesterday.”

  “You’re still wearing my sweater.”

  “Right.” I started to shrug out of it, but he put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t. You look good in it.”

  Xavier looked behind me. “Where’s Basia?”

  “Actually, Basia and I are in a spot of trouble at the moment and wondered whether you’d be willing to let me surf a bit on one of your machines so we can find a new hotel room.”

  Elvis lifted an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with your old one?”

  I gave them a shortened version of the events and Elvis whistled under his breath. “You know what this means, right, Lexi? Secret Service. Stacks of money?”

  “Of course I know what it means. I just wasn’t sure whether I should let on that I know.”

  He stood, pulled on his cutoff jean shorts and started packing up their stuff. “Come on, Xavier. Let’s get back to the room. Of course you can use our computers.”

  I crawled out from under the umbrella, careful not to upend it this time, and saw Basia standing on the boardwalk with our suitcases, waving at me.

  “There’s Basia.”

  Xavier stood beside me in a flash, lifting his hand and waving back to her. Elvis rolled his eyes. Xavier yanked out the umbrella, folded it down and tucked it under his arm. I picked up the cooler, while Elvis grabbed the blankets, towels and shoes. We met Basia and the four of us took the short trek to the Hilton.

  Once in the suite, Elvis booted up and vacated a chair for me. “You’re welcome to use any of the laptops. But you should know it isn’t necessary.”

  I sat in the chair. “It isn’t?”

  “Because you are welcome to stay here with us.” His face reddened. “I mean, Xavier and I can sleep in one room and you and Basia in the other. It’s only for a few more days and we have plenty of room. Besides, maybe we can help you get to the bottom of this mystery.”

  Basia sat on the couch. “There is no mystery to solve. Lexi will not meet with that creep again. We
are going to enjoy the rest of our vacation and put this horrible situation out of our minds. End of story.”

  Elvis popped open a Mountain Dew. “I hear you. But someone knows that Lexi has the money. Or at least had it. They may come after her or you again.”

  I swiveled around in the chair. “Elvis has a point. If we check in somewhere else, it won’t be hard to trace us, especially if we use our credit cards. They might come back. But we’re safe here.”

  Xavier went to sit next to Basia on the couch. “Besides, if you don’t get to the bottom of this now, they may be waiting for you when you get home. Better to figure this out sooner than later.”

  Basia pouted. “No beach?”

  Xavier shook his head. “Not safe. We have to presume they’re looking for you.”

  Elvis nodded. “They might even have been watching you meet with us. We’ll all have to take precautions.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “Look, I don’t want to drag you guys into it.”

  Elvis shrugged, taking a sip of his Mountain Dew. “Too late. We’re in. So, how about we figure out who this broken-fingered guy is and make our own deductions.”

  I liked how his mind worked. Even better, I liked feeling in control instead of like a victim. “Are you sure?”

  “Never been surer.” He pulled up a chair next to mine and tapped the keyboard. “So, what did you say the dude’s name is?”

  “Humphrey Nickelward. He said he was a scientist working with RFID technology.”

  Xavier crushed the can in his hand. “Optimum.” He tossed the can toward the trash can and missed.

  Basia rubbed her temples. “What is RFID? Can you people please speak English?”

  “Radio frequency identification. You’re not going to hack, are you? You do remember we work for the NSA, right?”

  “I’ll see what I can get by legit means. First.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “We both know that’s not going to be enough.”

  He grinned. “Yes, we know that.”

  “Look, I don’t want to involve you in any illegal activities. It’s not worth it.”

  He reached over and tugged a strand of my hair. “A good hack is always worth it. You know that. Right?”