“Agent Kane was taken to a secure location,” Ward continued, “along with officer Harper. By all accounts, they’re both out of danger.”
“Can we go in?” asked Mary, squeezing Leopold’s hand a little tighter.
“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Ward turned and opened the door to the room.
Leopold followed him through. The private suite looked clean and well appointed. The bed had been pushed up against the window, the frame just about large enough to hold Jerome’s bulk. The bodyguard was sitting up, reading. He glanced over as his visitors stepped inside.
“I’m just getting to the good part,” he said, grinning. “Any chance you could come back later?”
“No chance,” said Mary, letting go of Leopold’s hand. She rushed over to the bedside and gave Jerome a hug.
“Ouch, watch it. Bullet wound, remember?”
“Quiet, you big baby,” said Mary, letting go. “Like this is the first time you’ve been shot.”
Leopold stepped closer. “How you feeling?”
“I’ve felt worse,” said Jerome. “I told them I didn’t want any fussing, but at least this gives me a chance to catch up on some reading.”
Mary peered in. “What are you reading?”
Jerome snapped the book shut and stuffed it behind his pillow. “Nothing exciting. Just something to pass the time.”
Sighing, Mary reached in behind the sheets and pulled the book out. She glanced at the cover.
“The Black Knight’s Bride?” said Mary, chuckling. “I never knew you were a romance fan.”
Jerome grunted irritably. “It’s all they had available.”
“Sure it was.”
“Any news on locating the other bombs?” asked Leopold, changing the subject. He noticed Jerome shoot him a grateful look.
“Lieutenant Torres is working with the RTCC,” said Ward. “Now they know what to look for, he’s confident they should be able to sweep up the rest pretty quick. The local news is running a public-service announcement later, just in case anyone stumbles across one. But the chances of detonation are remote.”
Mary nodded. “We’re still going to have a public outcry on our hands.”
“It’s better than the alternative.”
“And what about the stock market? Any movement?”
Ward shook his head. “The news hasn’t broken yet. There might be a dip tomorrow, but hopefully nothing major.” He turned to Leopold. “I trust you understand the SEC has put a freeze on your company’s investment accounts. Temporary, of course. Pending their investigation.”
Leopold sighed. “Of course they did.”
“But you’ll be glad you know your personal accounts are available to you. Those that the IRS knows about, anyway.” Ward grinned.
“I don’t know what you could possibly be implying.”
“Of course you don’t.” He took a deep breath. “On another subject, I’m going to be interested in what you managed to find out while you were in Shanghai. The CIA is being frosty, but I shouldn’t have any problem getting clearance.”
“I’ll make sure you get the report,” said Leopold.
“I wouldn’t mind knowing what trouble you got yourself into over there myself,” said Mary.
“Classified, I’m afraid,” said Ward.
Leopold leaned in close to Mary. “I’ll tell you over dinner,” he whispered.
Ward frowned. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Hear what?”
“Anyway, gentlemen, I have a wife and a son I haven’t seen in days. I think I’ll leave you to it.” Ward headed for the door. “Oh, and Leopold...”
“Yes?”
“I know, given recent circumstances, this might not sound like your idea of a good time, but there’s always a job waiting for you with the FBI. If you get bored.”
Leopold smiled. “If I’m ever in Washington, I’ll make sure to look you up,” he said. “And you have my private number. Call me if you ever find yourself in need of a little outside assistance.”
“Good enough for me,” said Ward. He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Jerome cleared his throat. “So, I guess you two will be wanting a little time alone together.”
Leopold noticed Mary blush. He said, “Are you trying to get rid of us?”
Jerome shrugged. “I like my peace and quiet.”
“He just wants to get back to his trashy novel,” said Mary. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea?”
Leopold felt her grab hold of his hand again.
She said, “How about we get out of here? I believe you owe me dinner.”
“It’s only one-thirty,” said Leopold.
“Well, that gives us time to work up an appetite.”
Jerome raised one eyebrow.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” said Mary, pulling Leopold toward the door. “I know a great little place in my apartment building.” She smiled. “I’ll just have to call ahead, make sure we get a private table.”
“You have a restaurant in your apartment building?”
Mary groaned and yanked his arm. “You know, Leopold, for a smart guy, you can be a real dumbass sometimes.”
THE END
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Nick Stephenson was born and raised in Cambridgeshire, England. He writes mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels, as well as the occasional witty postcard, all of which are designed to get your pulse pounding. His approach to writing is to hit hard, hit fast, and leave as few spelling errors as possible. Don’t let his headshot fool you – he’s actually full color (on most days).
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Fallen: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers Book 5) Page 30