‘‘You didn’t learn anything?’’ he asked.
‘‘Well, he lives within his means.’’
‘‘That all?’’
‘‘Pretty much. Did you see anything different in the upper windows?’’
‘‘Nothing.’’
‘‘It was a wasted trip then.’’
‘‘I mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. No furniture, no rugs, no pictures on the walls. Nothing.’’
I thought about that. ‘‘Maybe he just lives on the ground floor. Some people do that.’’
‘‘No light fixtures.’’
‘‘No one lives there.’’
‘‘Roger that.’’
‘‘Damn. I thought I was onto something. It took me two hours this morning to wade through all the layers to find any real estate holdings at all.’’
‘‘What do you mean?’’
‘‘It’s layered. Held by a bunch of intermediaries.’’
‘‘An investment.’’
‘‘Maybe. But if Smiths were in the investment business I would have found more than one. And if that were the case, they wouldn’t bury them layers deep. The attorney in the cube next to me, Joe, does a lot of real estate work. He puts each new property into an entity to shield it from liability. You know, in case some neighbor falls and sues.’’
‘‘Okay.’’
‘‘This was in a trust. In a something else held by something else. And it was in the big one. The one that controls all the others.’’
Blue turned toward the water and pulled into a parking lot.
‘‘Where are we going?’’
‘‘Lunch. We need to refuel and reassess.’’
My stomach rumbled on cue. ‘‘Lunch,’’ I agreed.
Chapter Seventeen
‘‘She’s smart. Sneaky, too.’’ Blue winked. He held the phone away from his ear so I could share Connor’s total lack of enthusiasm.
I could picture him at his desk. Cursing wives and friends. Rubbing at his temples to relieve the pressure. I was a little surprised he was buying it. Blue was a highly trained operative with sniper experience. He could probably track a target through dense jungle without so much as a ripple in the vegetation. Then again, Connor had sent someone I’d seen before with orders to lock me in the condo. I wasn’t blind, and Connor should know better than to try to control me like that.
‘‘I would have, but she told me she’d make a scene on the street. You already have cop trouble. I didn’t think you’d want me to add to it. It was a field decision.’’
A field decision. Made me sound like an enemy of the state.
‘‘You want me to follow her into the women’s fitting room?’’ Blue sipped his beer. I toasted him with my lemonade. ‘‘She’s trying on dresses. I didn’t think you’d want me to maintain line-of-sight under the circumstances. ’’
I covered my mouth to muffle a laugh. Dresses. Except for the wedding dress he’d bought me and a stop-traffic mini he’d asked about when he came to visit, I didn’t own any. Connor would assume I was up to something.
‘‘Not your fault,’’ Blue assured him. ‘‘No. I didn’t lose her.’’ Blue sounded a little put out. ‘‘No. She’s washing her hands. Yeah. We ought to recruit her. The team could use somebody with her skills. Okay. Fine. Got it. Out.
‘‘He wants to talk to you.’’ Blue handed me his phone.
‘‘You’re still a dead man.’’ No sense letting him off the hook just yet. Blue might have been good company, but he was still the keeper Connor had assigned.
‘‘Where are you?’’
‘‘I’m drinking with a gorgeous single man who doesn’t think I’m stupid.’’
‘‘I don’t think you’re stupid.’’
‘‘Or helpless.’’
‘‘I don’t think you’re helpless, either. I think you’re beautiful.’’
I softened a little. He had good intentions; I knew that. He was overprotective and a complete Neanderthal but he meant well. ‘‘That is totally not going to work.’’ The edge to my voice had dulled.
‘‘And sexy.’’
‘‘You are evil and should be destroyed.’’ I said it without heat.
‘‘If you tell me where you are, I could come grovel in person.’’
‘‘Groveling is good.’’
‘‘So tell me where you are.’’
I heard road noise in the background. He’d probably run to his car the second he heard I was out in public. Even with Blue here.
‘‘If I tell you where I am, you’ll come and take your clothes off and I’ll forget I’m mad.’’
‘‘Works for me.’’
It would work for me, too. I groaned. ‘‘Hyatt on the water. Patio bar.’’
‘‘On my way. Let me talk to Blue.’’
‘‘Do not conspire against me. You’ve used your one free pass, Connor. I mean it.’’ I was mad. Hurt, too, although I’d deny it to my last breath. I was trying to let it go, play it off, but it was there. He was an ass. Plotting against me. Making my choices. Damn it, he should have told me like we were equal partners instead of keeping it a secret like I was, well, the wife.
‘‘I hear you, Sara.’’
‘‘Connor?’’
‘‘Yeah, hon?’’
‘‘Don’t do it again.’’
Blue took the phone. ‘‘Roger. Out.’’
‘‘Bless you,’’ I said.
‘‘I don’t know how you talked me into that.’’
‘‘I appealed to your sense of justice.’’
‘‘He did say you were a force of nature.’’
‘‘How does he feel about your recruitment efforts?’’
‘‘Not impressed. Specifically, ‘Thank God the SEALs don’t take women.’ ’’
‘‘That’s chauvinistic.’’ Connor would be Connor.
Blue shrugged.
‘‘He say anything else?’’
‘‘Montoya is still looking for you.’’
‘‘Can I ask you something?’’
‘‘Can I stop you?’’
‘‘Probably not. Why did you tell me all this stuff? What Connor said to you and everything. You’ve known him for years. You just met me today.’’
‘‘And that bothers you?’’
I stared at him. In for a penny. ‘‘Yes. You’re his best friend. You’re the one who’s watching his back. As much as I appreciate your help in giving him a hard time— deservedly so—I can’t help thinking . . .’’
‘‘He shouldn’t trust me?’’
‘‘Frankly, yes.’’
‘‘I’ve got his back.’’
I picked at the label on my beer bottle.
‘‘Sara?’’
‘‘You shouldn’t side with me against him.’’
‘‘I didn’t.’’
‘‘C’mon, Blue. Everything we did today . . . You chose me over him.’’
‘‘No, I didn’t.’’
‘‘How can you say that?’’
‘‘You can’t be controlled. Even he knows that. Trying to dictate is only going to threaten the one thing he wants the most. You. I’ve known him a long time. He’s not sane when it comes to you. He sure as hell isn’t the rational guy I’ve bled with. I didn’t choose you. I won’t. Ever.’’
‘‘So why did you help me?’’
‘‘I helped him. You were going to do it anyway. I covered you. Which is what he asked me to do. I also softened the ground so you won’t resent him. Believe me, Sara, when I tell you I’ve got his back.’’
Okay. That was what I wanted. I wanted my own way, too, of course, but even more than that I wanted to know Connor’s best friend wouldn’t divide his loyalty. I needed to know his teammate would do whatever it took to protect him. Maybe I was controlling, too.
‘‘Fair enough.’’
Chapter Eighteen
Ten minutes later, Connor kissed the back of my neck. I felt electricity spark along my spine. Okay, so I had already forgiven him.
Until the next time, anyway.
‘‘Am I out of the doghouse yet?’’
‘‘You should thank Blue, Connor. He did an admirable job of pleading your case, relying mostly on what is apparently a long history of testosterone poisoning.’’
‘‘Yeah.’’ Connor slumped into the chair next to me. He shook hands with Blue. ‘‘Thanks.’’
‘‘Did you really steal your commanding officer’s boat?’’ I grinned at him, letting him know I wasn’t holding a grudge.
‘‘It’s not stealing,’’ Blue denied. ‘‘Rock referred to it as a reallocation of resources.’’
‘‘An excellent euphemism for grand theft pontoon.’’ I laughed. ‘‘Why Rock?’’ I asked, directing my question to Blue. ‘‘Rock ’n’ roll? No, his CDs are mostly jazz, which I personally do not understand, but there you go. Rock-hard?’’ I slid my sunglasses down far enough to assess him over the top of the lenses. ‘‘No, I guess his guys probably wouldn’t name him that.’’
‘‘No,’’ Connor said.
Blue laughed. ‘‘Definitely not.’’
‘‘Dumb as a . . . ?’’ I guessed.
‘‘Hey,’’ Connor protested.
‘‘That, too,’’ Blue said.
‘‘Okay, I give up. Why Rock?’’
‘‘Rockefeller,’’ Blue supplied the answer, even if it didn’t make sense to me.
‘‘You want to be appointed vice president?’’
The waitress came over and Connor ordered an orange juice, not even acknowledging the blonde’s cleavage. Enough stress for one day, I’d guess. ‘‘I know. You have a Nixon fetish.’’
Blue laughed.
‘‘Okay, no Nixon. It has something to do with the arrest? That’s it, isn’t it? Tax evasion? Criminal ambition? First-degree megalomania?’’
‘‘A scandalous past?’’ Blue suggested.
‘‘Don’t help her.’’
‘‘I know there’s something there, but he won’t tell me what it is.’’ I leaned forward and stared intently behind my shades. Blue leaned closer and stared back.
‘‘You know, don’t you?’’ I whispered.
‘‘I know everything.’’
‘‘And you’re going to tell me, right?’’
‘‘Absolutely.’’ Blue sighed, propping his head on his hand.
‘‘You’re my best friend. You’re a SEAL. You don’t tell,’’ Connor protested.
Blue never looked his way.
‘‘They’re smarter, they’re stronger, and they don’t fight fair. Sorry, man.’’
‘‘You’re dangerous, and I’m breaking this up right now.’’ Connor signaled to the waitress. ‘‘I want a beer.’’
‘‘He wants a lemonade,’’ I corrected.
‘‘Am I on the wagon?’’
‘‘I just thought you should have your wits about you when we meet John Doe.’’
‘‘Who?’’
‘‘John Doe, our erstwhile radio celebrity.’’
He was very still. ‘‘When and where?’’
‘‘Balboa Park in’’—I consulted Winnie the Pooh—
‘‘forty minutes.’’
‘‘How did you find him?’’
‘‘He found me. Personally I think it was the dog-o-gram, but he could have gotten my card from anyone within a five-block radius of Henry DeVries’s station warehouse place.’’
I watched Connor read. When he was finished, he leaned back in his chair. He sipped lemonade. He waited me out. Hell, I didn’t know what it meant either. E-MAIL from a user calling himself lostboy81. ‘‘They’’—no explanation for that—had betrayed him. They had lied and now everyone would know. Everyone would know about the red eyes. The red eyes again. Then it gave the time and place for meeting.
‘‘It’s a prank,’’ he said, watching my face.
‘‘Or a setup,’’ Blue suggested.
I shook my head. ‘‘I don’t think so. Not with the red eyes. C’mon, Connor. It’s exactly what he said in the police report. The same thing he said during the interview. Whatever the deal is with the red eyes, this guy can’t let it go. They’re in everything. The way things that haunt you get into everything. Except for maybe the maid, I can think of only one person who could possibly be that scarred by what happened the night the Smithses were murdered. That person is the real Charles Smiths. I think John Doe may actually be Charles Smiths.’’
‘‘We know about the police report, honey. So do the cops, the lab, reporters, maybe.’’
‘‘And everyone they told.’’ Blue put his two cents in.
‘‘Besides, how do you explain the other guy? The one actually living on the family estate, getting served by the loyal retainers? They would know if he was the fake.’’
I held my hair off the back of my neck. Damn, it was hot. ‘‘I can’t explain it. Maybe all the servants are new. Maybe they’ve been paid off. Maybe he doesn’t have servants. I don’t know, Connor. All I know is that nobody cared that this guy swindled two hundred thou until he went public. Now the person he talked to is dead and his place looks abandoned.’’
‘‘What do you mean, abandoned?’’
‘‘Did a little recon,’’ Blue said.
Connor sighed. ‘‘She loves B and E.’’
Blue smiled. ‘‘Never got that far. Twenty and out. Too proper a ’hood for the likes of me.’’
‘‘I thought you were blending very nicely.’’ I patted Blue’s hand.
‘‘What about this meet? Can we track the e-mail?’’ Connor asked.
Blue held up his BlackBerry. ‘‘Killed a little time waiting for you. ISP traces to the Santee branch of the San Diego County library. No cameras. No computer sign-in. Only one librarian on duty and she doesn’t remember him, at least, not to a voice on the phone.’’
‘‘He’s really good with the whizbang stuff,’’ I said, smiling appreciatively at Blue. He did have a way with women.
‘‘You might try the personal approach.’’
Blue drained his glass and rose. ‘‘Check.’’
‘‘We also need whatever intel is out there on Charles Smiths and his parents. Pictures,’’ Connor told him.
‘‘Roger that.’’
‘‘Rendez at the condo at nine thirty?’’ Connor said.
‘‘I’m gone,’’ Blue said, leaving the restaurant.
‘‘I like him,’’ I said.
‘‘Me, too.’’
‘‘He told me not to divorce you because of this morning.’’
‘‘I just wanted to be sure you were safe.’’
‘‘You just wanted to control my every move.’’ Control seemed a little harsh, but there was no upside to arguing fact. Safe, controlled, whatever.
‘‘I love you.’’
I shook my head, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘‘I know.’’
‘‘Well, I’m glad to know you’re not thinking divorce.’’ We stood up, and Connor threw a twenty on the table.
‘‘Me, a divorcée? I don’t think so.’’ I laughed and took his hand, looking straight up into his face. ‘‘A widow, maybe.’’ I smiled, and Connor followed me out of the restaurant.
Chapter Nineteen
‘‘You’ll spook him,’’ I said, thrusting my hands into the pockets of my shorts to keep from strangling Connor. ‘‘He’s already squirrelly.’’
‘‘It’s the squirrelly part I’m not comfortable with, hon. He lies. He steals. For all we know, he had that deejay killed. Maybe even did it himself.’’
Oh, please. He didn’t believe that any more than I did. He was just laying it on thick in the vain hope, that I’d step aside and let him play knight on a white charger.
‘‘Whatever he is, he’s unpredictable. A wild card. We need to plan for that.’’
‘‘We have planned for it. You’ll be able to hear everything over the cell phone. If he starts to go off, I give you my permission to ride in like John Wayne. Heck, I’ll even do my best damsel in distress for the
occasion. But I want to talk to this guy, Connor. He’s not going to talk if you’re there glaring down at him.’’
‘‘I’m not glaring.’’
‘‘You are.’’
‘‘I’m not.’’
‘‘Are too.’’
He shook his head. He should get over it. I wasn’t giving in on this one. So far, John Doe was strictly a white-collar criminal. This was my case. He was backing me up. It was broad daylight, for Pete’s sake.
‘‘There’s no reason to think he’s violent, Connor.’’
‘‘One dead body not enough for you?’’
‘‘You heard what I heard. DeVries had multiple volumes of the better-not-run-into-you-in-a-dark-alley crowd. He had a criminal record as long as your arm. He had a demented fan base. There’s absolutely nothing tying John Doe to that shooting.’’
‘‘I don’t need proof. I’m not the cops. Or a judge. I was there when they were shooting at you.’’
‘‘In my direction. Not at me.’’
‘‘A distinction you didn’t draw at the time.’’
I scowled, then shrugged. ‘‘Point for you.’’
He put an arm around me. ‘‘I’m not trying to score points. I’m trying to keep you safe.’’
‘‘You can’t wrap me in cotton wool, Con. There’s something really off about this whole case. I’m going to find out what. With or without you.’’ I looked straight at him to deliver the blow. I didn’t want him to think I was mad. I wasn’t. I wasn’t even challenging him. It was for informational purposes only. He had two choices: back my play or not. Like Connor McNamara would ever pick the latter.
‘‘You’ll stay out of reach?’’
‘‘Connor?’’
‘‘Promise me you’ll—’’
I pointed. ‘‘She look familiar to you?’’
Connor turned. Stared. ‘‘Well, I’ll be damned.’’
The dog was wearing a red bandanna with a yellow collar. Very colorful. ‘‘I’m starting to sense a theme here.’’
Connor shook his head. His hands tightened on my shoulders.
‘‘Stay away from both of them.’’
‘‘Don’t talk bad about Pavarotti. She saved my life.’’
‘‘Fine. Stay away from Doe.’’
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