‘‘At least tell me his name.’’
‘‘Whose name?’’
‘‘Your cover guy.’’
‘‘You’re inside?’’
I let the silence hang. If he was going to freak me out, he shouldn’t have it easy.
‘‘Sara?’’
I sighed. ‘‘Yes, Mother, I am safely tucked in.’’
‘‘Thank you.’’
‘‘You owe me.’’
‘‘Noted.’’
‘‘So tell me about him. It is a him, I presume. You’d never assign a woman to be ‘cover.’ ’’ My air quotes were lost on him. ‘‘Women can’t be trusted to take care of themselves, after all.’’
‘‘Let me out of the doghouse, will you? His name is Troj. He’s on my team.’’
‘‘Troj?’’
‘‘Trojan.’’
‘‘His parents named him after a condom? You sent a guy named for a prophylactic to ‘cover’ me?’’ More quotes. ‘‘That is very, um, open-minded of you.’’
He chuckled. ‘‘I can be open-minded. It’s not his name. It’s his call sign. Sort of a team nickname. He got it because he went to USC. The Trojans.’’
‘‘An entire school committed to safe sex. That’s nice. When are you coming home?’’
‘‘Depends.’’
‘‘On what?’’
‘‘On whether you’re going to be lying in wait with a frying pan.’’
‘‘I don’t cook.’’
‘‘I didn’t say you did.’’
‘‘Assume for a second that I’m not planning widowhood. Imminently, anyway.’’
‘‘I’ll be out by sixteen hundred.’’
I calculated. Four o’clock. Too long. I debated telling him I didn’t plan to stay his prisoner and lose a whole day. No point. He’d say no and I’d do it anyway. I sat down on the couch and propped my feet up.
‘‘Why did Blue out you?’’ I asked. ‘‘Tell me you were having me followed?’’
‘‘Entertaining himself.’’
‘‘And why do these other guys agree to follow me around all day? They must have better things to do.’’
‘‘Same reason.’’
‘‘I hope I don’t disappoint.’’
Chapter Fourteen
Changing the guard was a mistake. I spotted him immediately. The elusive Trojan might have been mist. The infamous Blue, not so much. Even in this mostly minority neighborhood, there just weren’t a lot of hard-bodied black men in that size. I’d gone back to reinterview two neighbors who’d left me messages after finding my card on their doors. It was always the same. Had they seen anything? Had they ever seen DeVries with another man? Could anyone describe any Caucasian, male stranger, thirty to fifty years old, whom they’d seen in the area in the last two weeks? Two hours and I had nothing. Not a description, not a friend of DeVries, not a lead. I was hot and cranky, and seeing Connor’s best friend trying to blend into a building was the first interesting thing that had happened to me all day.
I crossed the street and walked over to him. He stayed very still. ‘‘Hello, Blue.’’
‘‘Hello, Sara. You shouldn’t be in the open.’’
‘‘He’ll be mad.’’
‘‘Roger.’’
‘‘Probably told you to hog-tie me if you had to.’’
‘‘Roger.’’
‘‘That’s not going to work out.’’
He smiled. ‘‘That’s confirm.’’
I smiled back. Reasonable and pretty to look at. If I had to have a shadow, I could do worse. ‘‘What happened to the condom guy?’’
His smile widened. He offered me an elbow and escorted me to a shiny new SUV. I let him help me into the passenger seat and bathed in the air-conditioning when he turned the car on.
‘‘The condom guy had to report for duty. You’re stuck with me.’’
‘‘That is a burden.’’ I lifted my sunglasses to bat my eyelashes at him.
‘‘My ex-wives thought so.’’
‘‘Wives as in plural?’’
‘‘Three and counting.’’
‘‘You’re kidding.’’
‘‘No, ma’am.’’
‘‘Fools.’’
‘‘You flirtin’ with me, Sara?’’
‘‘You mind?’’
‘‘Not even a little. Maybe we shouldn’t tell Con, though. He seemed a little agitated this morning.’’
‘‘I think he should cut back on the caffeine. Where are we going?’’
‘‘Condo. He mentioned he was going to give coffee a wide berth going forward.’’
I clicked the seat belt closed. ‘‘He told you I make lousy coffee, didn’t he?’’
‘‘Robert Michael Todd. Serial number 686-41-0804.’’ I shook my head. ‘‘Name, rank, and serial number? I thought we were bonding here.’’
‘‘Robert Michael Todd. Serial number 686-41-0804.’’
‘‘Does he tell you everything?’’
‘‘You planning on making him pay?’’
I leaned back in my seat. ‘‘He’s a SEAL. He can take care of himself.’’
‘‘I’ve got five bucks on you.’’
I peppered him with questions on the way back to Coronado. He answered none of them. He was so good at the dodge, I barely noticed he kept changing the subject. I didn’t learn anything about Connor or his family. The team was not described. The job not mentioned. If I had to be that circumspect all the time, my head would explode.
We pulled to the curb in front of an ice-cream cart and got out. The line was long. Tourists and locals trying to get a little relief from the heat. For me, it was bliss. The air-conditioning had chilled me effectively, and my thin Seattle blood was once again craving deep warmth. I ordered an ice cream sandwich. Blue shook his head and ordered an old-school Popsicle. I reached into my pocket for money but he waved me away.
‘‘Afraid I’ll compromise you?’’
‘‘Afraid I’ll let you.’’ He smiled
‘‘Sweet talker.’’
We unwrapped our treats and took a seat on a bench to eat them.
‘‘What has he told you?’’ I asked.
‘‘What I needed to know about your case to be cover.’’
‘‘He must have told you more than that. You did all that legwork. Besides, I saw the two of you together the first morning I was here. That was before things came off the rails yesterday.’’ My ice cream was melting and I had to lick fast.
‘‘But after your meet with DeVries.’’
I nodded. ‘‘He was already worried. So he called on his best friend.’’
‘‘He’s covered my six a time or two.’’
‘‘Six means ass?’’
He smiled around his Popsicle. ‘‘Pretty much.’’ His phone beeped. He flipped his wrist to open it.
‘‘Todd . . . You want me to take her? . . . Anything else? . . . Over.’’ He snapped the phone closed.
‘‘Connor?’’ I guessed.
He looked at me for a long moment. With his sunglasses in place, I didn’t have any idea what he might be thinking. Did having Connor’s six include lying to his wife? Finally, he nodded.
‘‘Did he try to call me?’’
‘‘No.’’
‘‘Because if he had, he would have been yelling loud enough for me to hear, right?’’
Blue shrugged.
‘‘So he’s updating you but keeping me out of the loop. Did he tell you to lock me in the dungeon?’’
Blue fought a grin. ‘‘You can see the light of day as long as you don’t drift from the team. Especially if you don’t tell him.’’
I nodded, locking my lips and throwing away the key. ‘‘Where did he want you to take me?’’
‘‘Nowhere.’’
‘‘Where did you think he wanted you to take me?’’
‘‘A face-to-face with a cop named Montoya.’’
‘‘He’s jealous.’’
Blue shook his head, reac
hing over to put his Popsicle stick in the trash. I handed him my wrapper and napkins. He threw them out.
‘‘Connor said Montoya left a message but you haven’t called him back.’’
Uh-oh. ‘‘We didn’t exactly leave our last meeting on a positive note. I’m giving Montoya a little time to pull his head out of his behind. I’m surprised he called Connor, since Montoya thinks Connor might have killed Henry DeVries to teach me the perils of modern marriage. ’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘As much as said Connor might have had someone shoot at me so I’d go home to barefoot and pregnant.’’
Blue crossed his arms. ‘‘This was after the meeting with the three of you?’’
Damn. Busted. ‘‘Sara Townley. Rank: she who must be obeyed. Serial number: none of your darn business, since it seems like an easy way for you to steal my identity. ’’ I crossed my arms, trying to channel haughty.
Blue smiled. ‘‘Name, rank, and serial number has a lot of words with you. The cop was an overreaction?’’
‘‘And then some.’’
‘‘Hmmm.’’
‘‘Hmmm what?’’
Blue leaned back. What was it with these navy guys? Didn’t anyone ever teach them to think out loud?
‘‘Going to tell me what you’re thinking?’’ I asked.
‘‘Montoya says Con is a person of interest. He tells Connor you’re a person of interest.’’
‘‘What does that mean?’’
‘‘Divide and conquer, maybe. New relationship under pressure. Doesn’t matter. Connor’s not going to let you in a room with Montoya until you’ve got a lawyer.’’
‘‘I didn’t do anything.’’
‘‘Not the point.’’
‘‘He knows I didn’t do anything.’’
‘‘Still not the point.’’
I had to move. I got up and strode down the block. ‘‘Will Connor take a meeting with the cops?’’
‘‘We in a hurry?’’
‘‘What?’’ I was three feet ahead of him. ‘‘Oh. No.
Sorry.’’
‘‘No problem.’’
‘‘You didn’t answer my question.’’
Blue didn’t bother with the personal statistics.
‘‘Are we suspects?’’
‘‘Connor’s take, for what it’s worth, is that Montoya wanted to get you alone. Guess he doesn’t know Montoya wants to get you alone again.’’
‘‘Connor believes Montoya sees me as the weak link or a hustle?’’
‘‘Montoya’s familiarity was mentioned.’’
Connor was sweet in a Mayberry sort of way. For a guy trained to kill people. ‘‘Does he think I’m going to run off with the police?’’
‘‘He’s not taking chances. He invoked.’’
‘‘What does that mean?’’
‘‘Connor told the cop not to talk to you without the lawyer.’’
‘‘Did he tell you I work for a bunch of lawyers?’’
‘‘He mentioned it.’’
‘‘What else did he mention? Other than my case and my coffee making.’’
‘‘Not much.’’
‘‘Would you tell me?’’
‘‘Not likely.’’
‘‘Well, did you respond when he told you this ‘not much’?’’
‘‘Nothing to say but the obvious.’’
‘‘What’s that?’’
‘‘Don’t fuck it up.’’
‘‘That’s sweet.’’
‘‘We’re being followed,’’ I said, glancing over my shoulder.
‘‘Since we hit the neighborhood,’’ Blue confirmed. He was on the street side of me. When tourists passed too close on the sidewalk, his hand on my back shifted me away from them. Yet he seemed totally unconcerned about our stalker.
‘‘This is going to seem totally weird to you, but . . .’’
‘‘You’ve seen him before.’’
‘‘Everywhere. I swear, I’m starting to dream about that dog.’’
‘‘Just enamored. Seems harmless. Keeping his distance. ’’
I stopped, turned. The dog stopped but didn’t run away. I crouched. Held out my hand. The dog sat down and licked her lips. Blue shielded me from the ambling people and their stares.
‘‘Come here, Pavarotti,’’ I cajoled.
‘‘Pavarotti?’’
‘‘She sings.’’
‘‘You named the dog.’’
‘‘Of course. Does she look homeless to you?’’
‘‘Cujo is probably male. Even the homeless care about their pets. Maybe more than they do about themselves.’’
I looked up at him. ‘‘Sounds like you know.’’
No shrug. No confirmation. Still, a glimmer of something real. I turned back to the dog. I’d spent all morning looking for a witness. Someone who’d been there the night Henry DeVries was killed. Someone who might have seen the elusive John Doe. And here she was. She’d been everywhere I’d been. Seen every person I’d seen.
‘‘Ever had a dog, Blue?’’
‘‘Probably has rabies.’’
I grinned at him. ‘‘So much for harmless. I have a cat. Flash. Did Connor tell you? She saved my life once.’’
‘‘Okay.’’
‘‘No, really. She did.’’ I squinted through my sunglasses. The collar was nearly invisible in the black coat of the Labrador, but it was there. ‘‘The thing is that cats aren’t dogs. I want to have an up-close-and-personal conversation with that dog. If Pavarotti were a cat, I’d have to wait her out. But I’m thinking a dog might be more easily persuaded to work on my time schedule. She doesn’t seem afraid. Just cautious.’’
‘‘Hot dog,’’ Blue suggested.
I pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill and handed it up to Blue.
‘‘On me,’’ he said. ‘‘Stay here and stay down.’’
I took a business card out of my pants pocket. My last one. I pulled out the pen I’d used earlier and jotted a note on the back of the card. If you knew Henry DeVries, I need to talk to you. I have important information. Please call or e-mail. Sara Townley. P.S. I like your dog.
Blue came back and handed me the hot dog, nicely grilled.
‘‘I’ll need something to tie my card to her collar.’’
‘‘She has a collar?’’
‘‘Not homeless after all.’’
Blue went back to the hot-dog vendor. He came back with a twist tie. I handed him the card and he used a pocketknife to drill a hole in the corner, attaching the plastic tie and twisting it shut, leaving enough extra to do the same to the dog’s collar. He closed the knife and returned it to his pocket. He held out his hand.
‘‘I’ll do it,’’ I told him.
‘‘I’ll take care of it.’’
‘‘She has rabies, remember?’’
‘‘Which Connor will not appreciate me exposing you to.’’
I stood and the blood rushed to my feet. I reached out a hand and held on to Blue while my equilibrium came back. I stumbled backward, and he placed a hand on my arm to steady me. The dog took two paces forward and cried deep in her throat. Blue moved me onto the grass and I sat down. Pavarotti belly-crawled a couple of feet closer, whining.
‘‘It’s okay, puppy. I’m all right.’’
She tipped her head to one side, ears pricking.
‘‘You need this more than the dog.’’ Blue handed me the hot dog. ‘‘Eat.’’
I shook my head. ‘‘I need to talk to the dog.’’
Blue sighed. ‘‘She needs to talk to the dog. Eat. I’ll get the dog.’’
‘‘Don’t scare her.’’
‘‘I’m not going to scare her.’’
Blue took a step toward Pavarotti and she popped up, prancing back. He took a step forward. She took one back and one to the side. Another dosi-do and sideways move and the dog and Blue were equidistant from me. Pavarotti looked from him to me and back like she was at a tennis match.
> ‘‘Back away, Blue.’’
‘‘I will get the dog.’’ He moved forward and the retriever moved away.
‘‘Sit, Blue.’’
He lifted his head. The dog did, too, ears high. Blue moved back and sat on a bench. She sat on the grass. I leaned forward and set the hot dog on the lawn between her and me. Her nose twitched. I patted the grass. She lay down.
‘‘It’s okay, Pav. The hot dog is for you.’’ The dog stayed, staring at me.
‘‘She’s not going for it,’’ Blue called from the bench.
Pavarotti’s head turned toward him; then she slithered closer to the treat as if to call him a liar.
‘‘That dog does not want food,’’ Blue said.
Without taking her eyes off him, she leaned over and snagged the meat from the bun, chomping down.
I chuckled. ‘‘You have a way with women.’’ ‘‘Contrary females.’’
The dog finished the bun and licked her lips. I patted the grass beside me and she crawled closer. When she was within reaching distance, I held out my hand to be sniffed. Her nose twitched, and I leaned forward enough to lightly touch her fur. I stroked her. She moved closer, rolling onto her back and exposing her belly.
‘‘Definitely a girl,’’ I told Blue.
‘‘I could have told you that just by the way she listened to me.’’
‘‘She’s sweet.’’ I rubbed her chin and she vocalized, a deep vibration in her throat. I tied the card to her collar. She sprawled, stretching long. ‘‘Maybe I should take her home. I mean, it’s clear to me she has a family. She’s not afraid or anything. I wouldn’t want her just roaming around. She might get hurt.’’
‘‘I thought you wanted the dog to take a message to the enemy.’’
‘‘Well, I do, but not enough to leave her on the streets. No, she should . . .’’ I stood. Pavarotti jumped up and raced past me down the street. She stopped on the sidewalk and turned, barked once, and was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
‘‘Don’t you have class?’’
‘‘More than you know,’’ Ryan said soberly. ‘‘Or I’ll ever be able to show you, more’s the pity.’’
Blue had handed me off to Ryan midafternoon. He hadn’t said it, of course. That would have risked life and liberty, not to mention bodily injury. On the other hand, Blue had stuck to me like gum on my shoe all day until the second Ryan had turned up.
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