She made her away around the side of the store and into the parking lot. It was already active, with people heading into shop and vehicles driving past, and as she approached her car she started to feel more confident.
Josh was right. We do have the advantage, and when I’m in the house, he and Dean and Blake, everyone will be able to hear what’s going on the whole time. I just have to focus on George Barrett. Keep my eyes and ears open, yes, but being dedicated to my patient is the key. Everything else will fall into place.
Unlocking her door and slipping behind the wheel she wished she could contact Blake, but she’d been told to only use her phone to communicate with the hospital or Fred Simons, aka Brovinksi. With her car being in the parking lot for two nights, an audio device, or even a tiny camera, could have been concealed inside it.
No risks. Blake’s thinking about you, you’re thinking about him, he’s right here with you.
Taking a deep breath she started her car and headed out of the parking lot. As she exited on to the small street that would take her to Pacific Coast Highway, she saw the dark grey sedan turn the corner off Malibu Road behind her. Sitting at the traffic light she noticed Josh with the motorbike across the street. He was crouched down tinkering with something near the engine. She had to smile. He couldn’t resist making sure she was in her car and on her way.
With so many people watching over me I’ll be just fine, and as the thought moved through her mind, she knew it to be true.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
From the moment she walked into her living room, time seemed to accelerate. It occurred to her that she could use her landline to call Blake. Dean had said they’d swept her place and found nothing, but the phrase, no risks, was echoing through her brain so she pushed away the idea.
The holder containing the four potted plants was decorative and didn’t look brand new. It had some peeling paint and nicks, as though she’d owned for some time. The attention to detail was reassuring, and she found the rock exactly where Dean said it would be, though it took her a minute to figure out how it opened. Pleased it wasn’t obvious, she placed the phone inside and pushed it into the moist soil.
Packing a suitcase as though she anticipated being gone for five days, she carefully placed the white lab coat with the high tech button between the two regular coats, laying them in the middle of her clothing, then headed back to her car to drive to the hospital to pick up the supplies. The grey sedan followed her, and though she was fully aware of it, if there were FBI agents also along for the ride she couldn’t pick them out.
Damn, they’re good. If I can’t spot them knowing they’re out there, those thugs sure won’t.
After gathering the supplies she needed she was tempted to use a pay phone to call Blake, or even the landline in the nurse’s station, and though she couldn’t see any risk involved she was able to resist the temptation. She also thought about zipping up to see George Barrett, but she was on schedule to be ready by noon, and she didn’t want to find herself rushed at the last minute.
It was fortunate she’d not taken the time to visit him. When she arrived home she had just enough time to shower, change, and handle some details she’d not anticipated. A few minutes before twelve-o’clock her cellphone rang, and it was Fred Simons phone number showing on the screen.
“Hello?”
“The car is downstairs waiting for you. I am at the hospital with Mr. Barrett. We are going to be moving him shortly. I thought I might see you here?”
“I got a late start from Malibu, and by the time I picked up the supplies at the hospital I realized I’d have just enough time to get home and finish packing. I didn’t want to keep anyone waiting,” she explained, and now I know why your speech is so stilted and peculiar.
“I understand. We will see you at the house.”
Ending the call, pulling her leather bag over her shoulder, and balancing the container with the potted plants on top of her suitcase, she began to roll it to the door, but just as she was about to leave she had a sudden thought.
Blake’s note!
Pulling her bag off her shoulder she unzipped the tiny compartment. Appearing to be just a loose scrap of paper, it was still there, folded up, safe-and-sound where she’d left it. Laying in the corner nearby was the GPS tracker, and seeing it made her shiver.
They must not have paid that little paper any attention when they planted that thing. Thank goodness.
Reluctantly pulling it out, she opened it up and sighed as she read Blake’s scrawled handwriting.
Good morning. As you read this I’m thinking about you. I’ll call you when I can. Text me when you get home. Be good, I’ll know if you’re not. xxx. B.
Blake. I miss you already. I wish I could bring this with me but I daren’t.
Returning to her bedroom she placed it under her pillow.
“I’ll be back to pick you up soon,” she muttered. “You could have been a wrinkle in the carpet.”
Returning to her suitcase she rolled it out the door, down the hallway, and stepping outside she saw a limousine, its windows darkly tinted.
Here I go. Literally into the Lion’s Den. I think the first thing I’m going to do when I get inside that car is have a drink. I have to do something to settle my nerves.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
As the limousine was pulling away from the curb, Blake was monitoring the situation along with Brian, Dean, and several other agents back at his house.
The FBI had had set up camp in the bar room, and he had been able to listen to the conversations between Dean and his men in the field. Though everything appeared to be going as planned, Blake couldn’t help but worry, and spent much of the time pacing.
There were three large monitors set up on the coffee table, and when Brian and arrived he had settled on one of the couches in front of them, impatiently waiting for the limo to arrive at Barrett’s house.
“We have a picture,” Brian suddenly called.
Blake and Dean hurried across to join him, and the three men watched the car approach the road that led to Barrett’s house.
“How are they getting this video feed?” Blake asked.
“Tree trimmers,” Dean replied. “They’ll be there supposedly thinning trees throughout the day.”
Another monitor flickered to life, and Blake found himself looking at the limo from an overhead shot.
“That’s our helicopter,” Dean remarked. “He’ll do several passes before hovering over PCH. It will look as if it’s checking the traffic.”
“What’s the third monitor for?”
“When we go in tomorrow,” Dean said soberly. “One of the guys will have a camera on him.”
“Couldn’t we have done that with Belinda, given her a mini-cam of some kind?” Blake asked.
“Not enough time to get something together that would be low-risk enough. These aren’t amateurs we’re dealing with. Look, the car is almost at the door.”
They watched as the long limousine rolled to a stop. The driver jumped from the car and hurried around to open the back door, and as Belinda stepped out, Blake ran his fingers through his hair, praying he hadn’t made a terrible mistake letting her go.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “I should be there. I should be there watching out for her. What have I done? I should have stopped this.”
“Easy,” Dean said. “She’s fine. This will be over before you know it.”
The driver walked her to the front door where she was met by a man in jeans and a black T-shirt. He took her inside as the driver returned to the car, and to Blake’s surprise the entire front of the house was glass, enabling them to continue to watch her. Moments later the driver pulled her suitcase from the trunk and carried it in, handing it to the man in the jeans.
“Where are the plants?” Dean muttered anxiously, but the driver immediately hurried back to the car and retrieved them from the back seat. “Thank God,” Dean sighed.
“He’s searching her bag,” Blake said nerv
ously, “just like you said they would. They won’t pick up on that button, will they?”
“No, it’s a nurse’s lab coat, she’s a nurse, and remember there are three of them, all identical.”
“Right, right,” Blake said. “Damn, this is torture. Look, the picture from the helicopter is moving.”
The search of Belinda’s suitcase was over, and the man had begun rolling it across the expansive room while the driver followed with the plants. They lost sight of her until she unexpectedly appeared at a sliding glass door in front of a terrace. The camera in the helicopter zoomed in, and Blake watched, mesmerized, as she opened the slider and stepped outside.
“I’ll bet she’s doing that for you,” Dean smiled.
“I’ll bet she is too,” Blake agreed feeling the heat in his throat.
He was right.
Seeing the helicopter hovering over Pacific Coast Highway, she’s sensed it was for her, and she was sure Blake would be watching whatever video feed was being sent back. When the nerve-racking search had been completed, and the dour looking man, who had introduced himself as Theo, had told her he’d take her to her quarters, she was praying her room was in the front of the house overlooking the ocean. Relieved that it was, when she’d walked in and seen the sliding glass door leading to a balcony she had almost jumped for joy, and hurrying over, she had opened it up and stepped outside.
Hello, Blake. I miss you!
“Is the room to your liking, Miss Harris?”
Turning around and walking back inside she nodded her head.
“It’s lovely, Theo,” she smiled, and I can’t wait to leave it and get back to Blake. “I assume Mr. Barrett will be arriving shortly so I’ll get myself unpacked and organized. I’d want to be ready when he gets here.”
“If you need anything just press number seven on your phone. That will connect you to the kitchen. Whatever you want they will bring it to you.”
“Thank you.”
He left, closing the door behind him, and she resisted the temptation to return to the patio, but she’d left the door open and she hoped it was wide enough for the helicopter to send back a picture of the interior.
Quickly unpacking, she pulled on the lab coat and pressed the center of the button as she fastened it, then reaching back into her suitcase, retrieved the button Dean had given her to place in Barrett’s room, covertly slipping it into her pocket along with a tissue.
Moving into the bathroom she discovered three shelves with nicknacks, the perfect place to hide a nanny-cam. Casually moving across she pretended to study the figurines, and she spotted it immediately.
There was a mirrored pyramid featuring an eye at the top, and in the center of the eye she saw the tiny lens. Because it was at the edge of the shelf and close to the washbasin, it would be easy to casually toss a hand towel across it, but when she moved back into the bedroom she had an even better idea.
“Time to take care of my babies,” she declared, and picking up the planter she carried it into the bathroom and set it on the counter. “I know you love steam, and this is the perfect home for you.”
Back at the house, Blake’s eyes had not left the monitors, and now he was able to hear her speak.
“It’s so good to hear her voice,” Blake murmured, “and it’s so clear. That button is amazing.”
“The equipment today is crazy,” Dean remarked. “When I think of what we were using ten years ago... damn... it was positively archaic compared to what we have now.”
Taking each of the nicknacks she placed them on the floor against the wall behind the door, saving the pyramid until last, turning it around so the lens was pointed into the corner, then she carefully put the planter on the shelf.
“There you are, your own shelf in this lovely bathroom. I’m sure they won’t mind me moving those bits and pieces. You’ll thrive in here.”
“She’s very clever,” Dean remarked. “She must have found the camera on that shelf and she’s letting us know, and having the phone in there it’s going to be easy for her to get it out and put it back.”
“Listen,” Blake said sharply, “I think someone has just knocked.”
Stepping back into the bedroom, Belinda walked across and opened her door. It was Theo.
“Mr. Barrett has arrived,” he announced.
“Oh, excellent. Let me get my supplies.”
Hurrying across to the bed she picked up a paper sack, quickly returning to the man waiting at her door.
“Where is his room?”
“Just down here. Is that all you need?”
“How convenient, just two doors down from mine,” she said hoping she was being heard. “Yes, I have what I need for the moment. I have some other things I’ll bring down once he’s settled.”
Blake and Dean and the other agents in the room were huddled around the monitors, watching George Barrett’s arrival. He was being taken from a van and rolled inside the house in a wheelchair. They lost sight of him when he entered the house, but the microphone on Belinda’s coat picked up the action as he reached his room, and she sounded like a competent, in control, experienced nurse. At one point Blake laughed out loud. Someone was about to place their hand near an area that was bandaged, and Belinda severely reprimanded him.
“She’s going great,” Dean said confidently.
“She is, she really is,” Blake nodded, and I’m so proud of her I can hardly stand it.
Blake had noticed Dean making notes, and he’d noticed the other agents were as well. He could hear mumbled conversations about how many men had been spotted, where they seemed to be positioned, and they had determined from Belinda’s comment where George Barrett’s room was, but turning his attention back to Belinda and the things she was saying, Blake was picking up on something else.
“Dean,” he frowned, touching his arm, “I’ve just had a though about Barrett, and it might be important.”
“What is it?”
“Belinda told me Barrett didn’t say a single word to her, not once, during any of her visits, except that first night he was brought in.”
“Yeah, and...?”
“He’s not saying a word now. He hasn’t said, hello, or thank you, or I’m in pain, nothing. Don’t you think that’s odd?”
Dean considered the question, then slowly nodded.
“I do. You’re right. It means something. Hey, guys,” he said raising his voice. “What do you make of this?”
As Dean talked about Barrett’s odd silence, Blake stared at the monitors. Belinda was out of sight, but he found great comfort in hearing her moving around and talking softly to her patient. She was telling him his cuts and abrasions were healing well, and for a moment he was sure she was talking directly to him.
This time tomorrow you’ll be back in my arms. Keep doing what you’re doing. You’re brilliant. Keep the faith, beautiful girl. Keep the faith.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
As Belinda was taking care of Barrett, her eyes were scanning her surroundings searching for a place to leave the button. The room was barren. It had the bed, a table for her supplies, a nightstand, and a small couch and coffee table where Theo was sitting. It seemed impossible, but as she studied the supplies, the large box of tissues caught her eye. Freshly opened, it would take much longer than twenty-four hours to use them all.
There’s nowhere else. If I get it in there I won’t be able to get it out, but why would I have to?
Glancing across at Theo she saw he was reading an auto magazine. Her pulse ticked up as she turned her back to him, and carefully lifting the button from her pocket, she pressed the center, then gently slid it down the side of the tissues deep into the box. Letting out a long, silent sigh, she busied herself, pretending to reorganize the table as she caught her breath.
“The second transmitter is live,” someone called out.
“She’s done it, she’s found a place to put it,” Dean exclaimed.
Blake’s heart skipped a beat, and Brian, who had been sittin
g quietly, saw the look of panic on Blake’s face.
“Hey,” he said touching Blake’s arm, “she’s got this.”
“I keep telling myself that, but it’s not working.”
“Maybe you need a break. How about stepping outside for a minute?”
“Are you kidding? There’s no way,” Blake said shaking his head, and seconds later Belinda’s voice snapped him back from the conversation.
“Is there anything you need, Mr. Barrett, are you in any pain?”
As he slowly moved his head from side-to-side, out of her peripheral vision Belinda noticed Theo lifting his head and staring over at them.
“Excuse me,” she said turning to face him, “would it be possible to have a chair brought in so I can sit next to the bed. I’d like to stay close these first few hours.”
“Sure,” he replied reaching for the phone. “Would you like anything to drink, or eat?”
She realized she’d not had anything since her breakfast with Blake early that morning, and though she didn’t feel hungry, if she was going to stay sharp she needed to eat.
“Thanks, I would,” she smiled. “Does the kitchen have tea?”
“Any kind you want,” he replied.
“English breakfast please, and a chicken sandwich if that’s doable.”
“Anything’s doable. What would you like on it?”
“Um, lettuce, cheese, and tomato on grain bread.”
“That sounds good,” he frowned. “I think I’ll have the same.”
She listened to him order the food, and moments later, when a comfortable armchair was brought into the room and placed next to the bed, she settled in and almost relaxed. The food arrived a short time later and it was delicious. The tea was hot, and the chicken in the sandwich was a freshly grilled filet.
“I could get used to this,” she joked to the grim man on the couch.
He lifted his head, and though he didn’t smile, she could see a softening in his eyes.
As the afternoon ticked by everyone began to relax, and even Blake was beginning to feel a bit calmer. Belinda was safely ensconced, the transmitters were working, there had been no hiccups.
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