Rules of Engagement (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 11)

by Camilla Chafer

  "That's what I'm trying to do. Did you know the agency team came up with ninety-seven names of people who might bear a grudge against him in only twelve minutes? Twelve minutes!"

  Maddox let out a bark of laughter. "That does not surprise me."

  "We're trying to whittle the list down but I'm worried that the more I find out, the longer that list grows. If we don't locate the motorcyclist, we might never solve this."

  "By we... you mean, you, not MPD?"

  "I don't care who solves it, so long as someone does," I replied, skirting around his answer.

  "So what do you want me to do?"

  "Actually, I need a chauffeur."

  Maddox regarded me, his blue eyes full of concern. "Not the answer I expected."

  I smiled. "I left my car at the house and I don't want to go back there; not just yet. All the PIs at the agency are either working on the case or will be on rotation guarding Solomon."

  "You don't trust the police?"

  "It's not that. I don't know Officer Broderick and I might not know the next uniform to be posted. I don't know who shot Solomon. If someone comes after him again, I want to be fully prepared. I trust my colleagues to do whatever they have to."

  "I wasn't judging. I fully agree with you. As for chauffeur duties, what do you have in mind?"

  "Fashion wise?" I wondered.

  Maddox's eyes widened. "I hope not! I am not wearing a cap. I meant, where do you need to go?"

  "Over to Solomon's lawyers to check on something, but I can't go just yet."

  "Any reason you don't want Lily to take you?" Maddox asked.

  "Yeah. I'm worried someone might try to shoot us."

  "Have you any reason to think that?" he asked rather than attempting to dissuade me.

  "No, I'm probably being paranoid. I think if anyone genuinely wanted to hurt me, they would have done so that night after Solomon was incapacitated, but until I know what's going on, I'm not sure I want to be alone."

  "Consider it done. I'll take a few days off work and I'm entirely at your disposal. I need to do some things and then I'll be back. When do you intend to go?"

  "I'll call you as soon as one of the other guys gets here."

  Maddox leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll work this out. Whatever is going on, there is an answer and we can uncover it. Call me when you're ready to go. If you're lucky, I'll put on a chauffeur's hat and even open the door for you."

  When Maddox was gone, I walked back to Solomon's room.

  "Before you ask, no change," said Lily. "I watched the beepy thing."

  I could see that even before I thought to ask. "I don't know how to cope with this," I told her.

  "I think you're coping just fine."

  "I feel like I'm an ice block on the inside. I can't process how I feel at all. Shouldn't I be in tears? Or falling apart?"

  "No. You should do whatever makes you function at your best. For you, that's catching the damn, murdering bastard. Plus, you'll have some really good stuff to tell Solomon when he wakes up."

  I smiled sadly. "Yeah," I agreed. When.

  "Where did Maddox go?"

  "He has some other stuff to deal with but he's coming back later. I need to go to the lawyer's office and find out what they know."

  "Want me to come too?"

  "No, Maddox will take me."

  "Shall I get you some more tea?"

  I shook my head. "I think I'm going to check Solomon's laptop," I said, sitting down and pulling the bag over to my feet. Taking the laptop out, I flipped open the lid, turning it on. Lily pulled her chair over to the corner of the room and watched me.

  "Do you think he watches porn on that?" she whispered, as if Solomon might hear her.

  My mouth dropped open. "That's the first thing you thought of?"

  She returned my shocked expression with one of her own. "You mean you didn't?"

  "No. I thought there might be a top ten list of people who hate him."

  "I think porn is more likely. I wonder what he's into."

  "Lily!"

  "Fine, but you owe me ten bucks if I'm right."

  "Don't mentally spend it," I said as the password screen appeared. "There's no fingerprint scanner on this laptop. I need to work out what the password might be."

  "You never saw him enter it?"

  "No, not that I remember."

  "Try 'password'."

  I rolled my eyes. "Solomon would never use that!"

  "Pets?"

  "I don't remember him mentioning any. He's a cyber security specialist. He won’t use anything like that."

  "Type 'I love Lexi'."

  I glanced up. "Seriously?"

  "Sure? Why not? Here, I'll do it," said Lily. She leaned in and tapped the keys. I squealed as she hit return before I could point out we only had ten attempts before the laptop locked us out.

  Miraculously, the screen faded away and the desktop loaded. "Unbelievable!" I breathed, absolutely dumbfounded.

  "I'm a genius," said Lily, her voice unbearably smug.

  "You are a genius," I agreed. Several icons were placed on the desktop screen, which was nowhere nearly as busy as my desktop. "I think these are legal documents. There's a will, a deed to his house, a list of bank accounts. Why are there so many?" I asked, clicking on the document.

  "Documents or bank accounts?"

  "Bank accounts. Some of them are offshore." I closed it.

  "That document says Lexi," said Lily, pointing one of her pink-glittered fingernails at the screen.

  I double-clicked and opened it. "It's blank," I said.

  "How can it be blank if the word count says there're words?" asked Lily.

  I scrolled down, page one making way for page two. "It doesn't make any sense." I scrolled up again and tapped my fingers against my chin, then laughed. "It needs highlighting," I said. I highlighted the whole document and words appeared on the screen. "Solomon sent me a document like this once and it took me an hour to figure it out."

  "What does it say?"

  "It's another letter." I speed-read it, my curiosity nearly overcoming me. "It's instructions on what to do if anything happens to him. There's information on the lawyers and what comes into play if Solomon dies," I said, choking on the last word before I spat it out. "There's a list of people he absolutely trusts. Both of our names are on it."

  "Aww," said Lily. "He trusts me. Who else is on there?"

  "Delgado, Fletcher, Flaherty, Lucas, Garrett, Maddox, me, and you. There's another name too. Duncan O'Malley. I don't know him. Do you?"

  "No."

  A knock at the door made us both look up. I waved Delgado in. "I couldn't get my gun in," he said, sliding the door closed behind him. "When did they install metal detectors here? I thought the security guard was going to have a heart attack while he decided whether to shoot me or not."

  "Did he shoot you?" asked Lily.

  "No!" said Delgado, giving her a long, hard look.

  "Phew!" To me, she whispered, "I would not want to have to tell Serena."

  "Take mine," I said. I pulled off my hoody, unhooked my holster and passed it and the gun it contained to Delgado.

  "How the hell did you get that in?" he asked, wide-eyed with surprise.

  "I walked in with Garrett and he thought it was only his gun that set off the alarm. I forgot about mine. The security guard didn't search me. Hang on to it. Alert the others that they don't need to bring any weapons as we already have one here."

  "Will do. What are you doing?" asked Delgado, motioning to the laptop.

  "Plundering Solomon's laptop," said Lily before I could speak.

  I added, "Does the name Duncan O'Malley mean anything to you?"

  "Sure. Everyone's heard of Duncan O'Malley," said Delgado.

  "I haven't."

  "Really? He's only the biggest crime lord in Montgomery. Rumor has it he's dead although I'm not sure if I believe it. He's a wily son of a gun. What of it?"

  "He's on Solo
mon's most trusted people list."

  Delgado whistled. "The only lists O'Malley usually gets on are the FBI’s most wanted lists. He's not the kind of person Solomon would usually associate with."

  "Then we need to put him on his own list and find out how Solomon knows him and why he trusts him as much as he trusts everyone in this room."

  Chapter Ten

  Maddox returned an hour later and after I finished fussing over Solomon — were his feet warm? Did the bandage need changing? — and issuing yet another instruction to Delgado to call me if he saw any improvement (or further deterioration), Maddox, Lily and I walked down to the parking lot.

  Every corner we rounded, every elevator button we pressed, and every corridor we traversed, I told myself I could turn around anytime and run back to Solomon. Yet, I didn't. Much as I wanted to never leave his side, I was dying to know what was going on. Lily was right; investigating was absolutely necessary. I needed answers badly. I needed a ray of hope even more.

  "Call me if you need me for anything," said Lily, hugging me. "Or even if you don't. Or you just want to leave the line open and cry or something."

  "I saw Jord and the baby a few days ago," said Maddox as we walked across the parking lot, away from Lily and the hospital. "They're a nice family."

  "I'm still amazed that my brother finally got it together and asked my best friend on a date, especially after pretending he wasn't into her for years."

  "Apparently realizing you're about to lose everything important is the kick in the pants some people need before they are ready to go after what they really want."

  I burst into tears, the fear and frustration rushing out of me in big, painful sobs. I pushed my palms against my eyes and squeezed my eyelids shut. "Hey," said Maddox, enveloping me in a big, warm hug. "Hey, I didn't mean what I said."

  "It's not that," I sniffled against his chest, "it just suddenly came out."

  "I thought it was my inability to articulate the right words. This is all going to be okay."

  "And what if it's not?" I asked. "What if the shooter gets away? Or Solomon dies? The world can never be the same again!"

  "We'll work through whatever we need to when we get to it. Just remember and believe me that you won't be alone," he said. His breath rustled my hair and he rubbed my back in a friendly way. I inhaled, getting a heady scent of his aftershave, something so familiar that was instantly grounding.

  "Sorry," I mumbled, as he released me and handed me a tissue.

  "Is that the first time you've cried?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Don't be sorry. Be angry. Be fricking furious someone did this to you and let that be the force that drives you, at least, for now. Let's get moving," he said. He pointed to his car in the next row. "What's the address of the lawyer?"

  "It's a firm downtown," I said. I pulled the envelope containing Solomon's letter from my purse. The lawyer's address was stamped on the outside.

  "I know it," he said as he handed it back to me. We got into his car and he leaned over. For a fleeting moment, our eyes were inches apart and I saw the sympathy and sadness in them. Then I blinked and Maddox was folding the seatbelt over me, clicking it into place.

  "I thought you were heading out of town again?" I said, remembering our last conversation.

  "My plans were delayed. I'm still waiting for the call."

  "Do you have to go as soon as you're called?"

  "No. I can stay here as long as you need me."

  "Won't your boss be mad?"

  "Let me worry about that."

  "You're still not going to tell me what you're working on, are you?"

  Maddox smiled to himself, then he looked over to me. "It's really bugging you, isn't it?"

  "So much!"

  "I'm working high profile crimes. International stuff, hence the frequent travel and having to be out of town so often."

  "What kind of crimes? Murders?"

  "No, although they occasionally happen sometimes. I can't tell you much, only that the crimes I'm investigating involve the top tier of society. Art. Jewels. That sort of thing."

  "Wow!"

  "I know. The thieves are top end too. I gotta tell you, Lexi, after my stint with the FBI, which wasn't what I thought it would be, I'm beginning to enjoy my life."

  I frowned. "Aren't you still working for the FBI?"

  "Yes, but I only have my desk at the local field office to maintain a cover. I'm rarely there, though if you ever need to find me, they'll make sure I get the message."

  "Good to know." I rested my head on the headrest and dabbed my eyes with the tissue. "Who would have guessed that only a few years ago, this would be what we were doing now?"

  "Not me," said Maddox. "I had very different ideas back then. I never saw myself leaving the police force. I thought I'd be a detective until the day I died."

  "You're still a detective. Just a different kind of one," I pointed out.

  "What about you? Did you envisage any of this when you got that job temping at Green Hand Insurance?"

  I shook my head and laughed. "No! I had no idea what I wanted in life then. I was pretty aimless."

  "Smart and bored. You could have been trouble."

  "I was trouble," I recalled.

  Maddox glanced to me. "You were never trouble."

  "I don't think anyone else agrees with you," I said, joining him when he laughed.

  "That's Hemingway, McCarthy and Gort's building," he said, pointing to a tall building only four blocks from the agency.

  "Fancy."

  "They're a fancy firm. All the city's high rollers use them. They're very rich, very discreet, and virtually, impenetrable."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Nothing criminal. They're just very protective of their clients."

  "I'm here in regard to a client. They already knew about me."

  "Doesn't mean they'll tell you anything. Want me to come in with you?"

  "Yes, please. An FBI presence might motivate them to loosen their tongues more freely, even if they refuse to talk to me."

  We parked a block away and walked over. Pondering what I wanted to say or ask, I hadn't gotten too much further than when, why, where, and how, by the time we walked through the revolving doors and stepped into an expansive, very expensive and luxurious, marble lobby. There was a security and help desk in a semi circle but people walked to and from the bank of elevators unimpeded. I nudged Maddox and we walked toward the elevator. "The sign over there says that Hemingway, McCarthy and Gort occupy floors eleven to fourteen," I said.

  Maddox pressed the number eleven and we rose to the floor rather quickly before stepping into a smaller lobby. "Good morning," said the shiny-haired receptionist. "Do you have an appointment?"

  "With Thomas Gort," I said.

  "And you are?"

  "Lexi Graves."

  "I don't see your name in Mr. Gort's calendar. Is he expecting you?"

  "We spoke earlier about a legal matter," I said. "He should be expecting me."

  "Please take a seat," she said, indicating the leather couch against the wall. She tapped her headset and spoke while watching us. Maddox sat down and I joined him. The artwork on the wall opposite us was splashed with different colors, the hues moving from light to dark across the canvas. I felt sure someone could have had something very clever to say about the painting but it didn’t matter to me. I found it attractive and interesting. Fixing my gaze on the walls, a woman in a pencil skirt suit walked into the lobby and approached us.

  "I'm Mr. Gort's assistant, Cordelia," she said. Maddox and I both stood up to greet her politely. "Mr. Gort is engaged at the moment but he sent me out to thank you for your visit and said he hopes all is well with the package he issued to you."

  "It's very important that I speak with him."

  "Mr. Gort isn't taking any new clients at this time."

  "Perhaps he'd like to think that over again," said Maddox. He held up his badge and the woman paled. "That way, is it?" he as
ked, pointing to the corridor she just exited. Taking my hand, he began pulling me along behind him. The assistant followed us, then started knocking on a door and letting herself in before Maddox could.

  "I tried to stop them," she said breathlessly.

  "Special Agent Maddox," said Maddox, holding his badge up again. "You've met Lexi Graves already."

  "It's all right, Cordelia," said Mr. Gort, waving his assistant away. He stood up from his desk and held out his hand, shaking mine first and then Maddox's. "I don't get many visits from the FBI," he said before indicating we should both sit as he returned to his chair. "Was something wrong with the package you received, Miss Graves?"

  "No, nothing's wrong with it," I replied, "but I need to know why it was given to me."

  Mr. Gort frowned. "As I understood, the letter enclosed with it should have explained everything."

  "Yes, it did sort of. I just don't understand why it was written at all."

  "I believe that should’ve been explained too."

  "Let's not waste our time running in circles," said Maddox. "What can you tell us?"

  Mr. Gort leaned back in the big, leather office chair and steepled his fingers together. "Normally, I'd call security but since Mr. Solomon is my client, and I am aware that you are his fiancée, I won't. Mr Solomon spoke of you a number of times, and given his current predicament, I'm inclined to believe the right thing I should do now is to help you. That said, there isn't much I can tell you."

  "Whatever you can tell me, please do. Like, when was this letter written? Was it really a year ago like the date indicates?" I asked.

  "I don't know for certain, but I do know the package and the instructions for its delivery were lodged with me a little over a year ago."

  "Do you know if something significant happened to Solomon at that time?"

  "I think you're in a more suitable position to answer that than I am."

  I thought hard, but nothing came to mind. Solomon and I had handled a number of cases before that, but I couldn't see any one of them scaring him enough to consider his own mortality, especially not at the hands of someone else.