I frowned, questions flooding my head. Why wouldn’t Fred May’s widow know where her brother-in-law was? Why wouldn’t she look for him herself? Maybe she knew he didn’t want her to find him. Maybe she didn’t want him to know she was looking. Why?
I smiled at Sheila. “Does our client pose a danger to Mr. Hirshfield? I mean, I could understand you wanting us to stop helping her if she posed a danger.”
Sheila’s expression grew serious. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything more. It would compromise our investigation.”
“But you’re shadowing her, right?”
Sheila looked wary now. “We can’t always be everywhere at all times. We wouldn’t want to create a situation of unnecessary risk. I’m sure you understand.”
So it seemed to me that Mia wanted to hurt her former brother-in-law from Quantico, the same town these folks came from. Why would Mia want to hurt a government scientist? Had he possibly done something to her? Had he hurt someone she loved and this was payback?
I considered Fred May. Would Mia care if Doug had hurt Fred? Mia and Fred had been separated at the time of Fred’s death. Had Doug done something to cause the separation? Or, more likely, I thought, had Mia done something and Fred reacted?
Furthermore, why would the government care about a war between brothers? The government would only care if something happened to compromise security. Bingo.
I straightened in my chair, leaned forward and smiled at Sheila.
“I’m thinking it’s like this,” I said softly. “Doug Hirshfield works for the CIA. Maybe Mia had an affair with Doug, and in the process learned something you didn’t want her to know, or took something Doug was working on.”
The imperceptible flinch from Sheila meant I’d scored a direct hit. Jake was now staring at me as if I’d once again played a wild card without consulting him. Oh, well. I couldn’t help that, at least not now.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Valocchi,” Sheila said. “We’re not at liberty to discuss that.”
I smiled. “So Mia hired us to put you off her trail, and if we don’t help her, she won’t find him. But what if she does? Are you protecting him? I mean, she seems to know he lives here. And why would she want to find him if she already has what she wanted?”
Sheila was silent.
“If she’s the object of an investigation, if she has something you want, or knows too much, then you must be looking to prosecute her. You’d have her safely locked away then, unless you people still assassinate civilians.”
I went on quickly, not waiting for the reaction to my incendiary remark. “Ah,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “I bet Doug’s a witness. And since you haven’t arrested her yet, Mia must have taken something and you don’t know where it is.”
“You’re wrong,” Sheila said, her smile just a bit hesitant. “But you have a wonderful imagination, doesn’t she, Jake?”
She turned to him, the smile a thousand watts of pure seduction, and I’ll admit it, I felt a distinct twinge of jealousy.
“Okay, Ms. Martin,” I said, “let’s just lay all our cards out here, shall we?”
The two agents were more than a little uncomfortable, but it took a cop’s eye to see it: the dilated pupils, the shallow but increasingly rapid respirations, the mild agitation that showed in the way Barry Kincaid shifted his feet ever so slightly, but constantly.
“Mia Lange may be using an alias now, but she was also Fred May’s wife. Fred May, the author of bestselling espionage novels, the man who circled the fringes of the intelligence community and hobnobbed with diplomats. Add to the mix his adopted brother, Doug, a biomechanical engineer working for the CIA on top-secret projects. You read about these things all the time, government workers selling secrets to foreign agents. How hard would it have been for Mia to gain access to her brother’s home?”
Sheila shook her head. “That’s all speculation,” she said. “It makes wonderful fiction but very poor reality. Doug Hirshfield was a brilliant scientist, but hardly the intelligence guru you’re making him out to be.”
“Was?” I echoed.
Sheila’s eyes darkened. “Was. He died almost three years ago. He had a stroke. So you see your speculations are groundless.”
“Then why is Mia looking for him?” I asked quietly.
Sheila shrugged. “I have no idea. Perhaps she doesn’t know he’s dead. I believe she and Fred were already separated when Doug died.”
“You think she wouldn’t have heard?” Jake asked, entering the discussion.
Sheila met his gaze. “It was hardly a big news event. It might not have even made the local papers, let alone reached Tonya May. Beyond that speculation, I can’t say. But I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell your client. I really couldn’t stop you, but you would be doing our investigation a terrible disservice as well as placing others at risk.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Doug is listed as Mrs. May’s next of kin,” I said. “Who pays for her nursing-home care if Doug’s dead? Why is he listed as an emergency contact? Why does he have a local address?”
Barry Kincaid smiled to himself but remained silent.
Sheila said, “We pay her bills. Mrs. May has Alzheimer’s. She wouldn’t know her own children. We provide the nursing home with what they need in order to continue providing Mrs. May with care. It prevents unnecessary questions.”
Sheila stood, signaling Barry Kincaid to join her, and looked around the room at the rest of us.
“In this time of political unrest,” she said, “our national security is of utmost importance. I’m sure you all appreciate this. I would also appreciate it if you kept what I’ve told you to yourselves. Lives would be at risk if this information became common knowledge. I know you wouldn’t want that to happen. I know you meant well by taking your client’s case, but I guess you were just too good.”
Sheila smiled and turned to take Jake’s hand.
“I’m just grateful you called and we could talk. Hopefully, you will respect our wishes, even if you don’t fully understand the reasoning or the logic behind it. If Mia Lange calls, I suggest you tell her your investigation led to a dead end and offer to return her retainer. Don’t worry, we’ll reimburse you.”
Jake seemed dazed almost. He nodded, but I could tell his thoughts were far away.
The two agents left. As the door closed softly behind them, Nina breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“So like, do you think they’re real?” She looked around the room, hopped up and crossed to the mantel, lifted a pottery vase and peered deep inside.
“What are you doing, baby?” Spike asked.
Nina spun back around. “Just checking. I thought maybe somebody nominated us for a new reality TV show or something.” She stiffened, pulled her mouth down into a straight, hard line and fluffed imaginary hair. “Our national security is at risk,” she mimicked. “Please. They don’t really talk like that.”
Spike frowned. “Well, Nina, now, I don’t know. Have you turned on CNN lately? They all talk like that.”
I looked at Jake. “So what did you think?”
He stretched and stood. “I think you’ve got some explaining to do,” he said. “What was all that about Mia being Fred May’s wife?”
Nina and I spent the next ten minutes updating Jake while Spike busied herself putting the teakettle on to boil and cleaning up the leftover lunch dishes. Lloyd emerged from Aunt Lucy’s bedroom, signaling her impending arrival, and Jake asked one final question.
“How did you know that Mia—Tonya—whatever her name is, had taken something from Doug?”
I grinned at him. “Lucky guess. I mean, it’s not such a stretch, is it? She asked us to find a man who’s practically family to her. She instructed us not to approach him or tell him she was looking for him. Why? Her husband divorces her. Why? Doug died right before they separated, if you believe your friend Baby. If that were true, why wouldn’t Tonya know about it? I just figured Tonya doesn’t believe he’s dead, or else, she
wants to make sure he is. If she stole something from him, something valuable and top secret, he’d know. He’d be able to pin the theft on her. That’s why I think she wants to find him. I think she wants to know he’s dead or else kill him herself.”
Nina couldn’t contain herself. “Then it is a matter of national security,” she said. “And we can help.”
Spike shook her head. “No, now, Nina, I think we should just leave this to the experts.”
Nina scowled. “Yeah, what good have they done, huh? They’re just following her around. I think we are the perfect people to set a trap for her. I think we should tell her we’ve found her brother and see what happens.”
“What do you think will happen, Nina?” I asked.
She smiled. “Well, if it’s a good trap, she’ll come down and try to kill the decoy. Wouldn’t that prove she has something to hide? Wouldn’t that give the CIA something to work with?”
Jake shook his head. “I don’t think so, honey. I think it would only confuse matters.”
I was sitting at the kitchen table, doodling on a piece of paper while I tried to sort out fact from fiction. The government said Doug Hirshfield was dead. Our client seemed to think he wasn’t. What did either party have to gain from lying to us? If we believed Doug Hirshfield was dead, there would be no more reason to search for him. If we didn’t look for him, we wouldn’t work for Tonya May. If we didn’t work for her, she wouldn’t find her ex–brother-in-law, or at least, she’d have to start all over again and that would keep Doug hidden.
If we believed Doug Hirshfield was alive and that Sheila Martin was lying, then we had to believe we had made the government uncomfortable by looking for him. And why would Tonya May pay ten thousand dollars to a private investigator if she knew, or even had reason to believe, her brother-in-law was dead? Did she just want to be sure? If so, why not give us his name and shorten the process?
The questions rumbled around in my head like clothes in a Laundromat dryer. It was all out in front of us, in plain sight, but who could tell what was what? Furthermore, didn’t we have an obligation to make sure Doug Hirshfield wasn’t in danger? If he were alive, would the government be watching out for him? Surely they would, but had we now jeopardized his safety by coming so close to finding him? And were we even close?
I looked up and found Jake watching me. It was as if he read my thoughts and for once agreed with me.
“You want to check it out, don’t you?” he said.
I nodded. “I don’t like feeling stupid, like the wool’s been pulled over my eyes. I want to know who’s been playing me, and then I want to do something about it.”
Spike walked over to the kitchen table and stood beside Jake. She was frowning and obviously needed to say something.
“What is it, Spike?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I’ve been trying to recall exactly what Jake’s friend said about Mrs. May. When you asked why Doug’s name was listed as his mother’s next of kin, didn’t she say that they’d been paying the bill, doing it because they didn’t want to upset Mrs. May or raise unnecessary questions?”
I thought back and nodded. “Yes, that’s what she said.”
Spike’s frown deepened. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “There’s only one small problem with that statement.”
We all looked at her, waiting for the former assistant district attorney to make her case.
“A problem?” Jake prompted.
“Yes,” Spike said. “Fred was still alive when his brother allegedly died. Why wouldn’t his name be on the record as next of kin? Wouldn’t that be the most logical solution? Why would the CIA ever be involved when Doug’s attorney should’ve administered his estate?”
Spike looked at us, her eyes darkening into bottomless black pools of concern.
“You’re right, Stella,” she said. “Doug Hirshfield isn’t dead.”
In the momentary silence that followed, Aunt Lucy’s footsteps sounded in the hallway. Discussion of Doug Hirshfield stopped, as all of us made a concerted effort to lift Aunt Lucy’s spirits.
We spent the afternoon playing Scrabble around the kitchen table. As I pretended to focus on the game, an idea came to mind. I leaned over to Jake and whispered, “I’ve got a plan, but we need to wait for dark.”
Aunt Lucy looked our way, and I smiled. “Just looking for Q’s,” I said. If Aunt Lucy sensed the underlying tension that seemed almost overwhelming to me, she didn’t mention it. When she’d finally whipped us all soundly, she stood up and looked at her assembled family members.
“Some people can sit around all day acting like they’re retired. I have dinner to prepare, and if I remember correctly, you people are trying to find a missing person. Now, either something’s changed, or you no longer need the money. Which is it?”
Nina flushed deep pink and busied herself putting the board game away. Spike and Jake deferred to me and I took a deep breath before attempting a plausible explanation.
“The, um, computer data bank that houses the information we’re waiting on has lost touch with its server,” I said. “So we’re sort of on hold.”
“Hmmph,” she said. “And to think I actually thought those government agents had something to do with it.”
“How did you know about that?” I sputtered.
Aunt Lucy just looked at me.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
She sighed. “Your uncle here woke me up. So I listened. Big deal. I just think you ought to be about taking care of this mess and not fooling around playing Scrabble with an old lady! I’m fine. So I get a few boxes of groceries and some flowers from a nutcase? That was then, this is now. Life goes on. So quit holding my hand and do something productive. You people drive me nuts!”
That was Aunt Lucy, all right. Down, but never out. Back in the game before you knew it.
I smiled and patted her arm.
“We had to let the news settle a bit,” I said. “We weren’t baby-sitting you.”
Lloyd moaned, begging to differ, I suppose.
“All right, so maybe we were a little worried.”
Aunt Lucy shook her head and moved toward the refrigerator. “I’m starting to think your cousin was right about you. You do need a mission statement.”
Jake was watching us and smiling. He loved to see me catch hell from Aunt Lucy. Finally, he took pity on me and spoke up.
“We’ve got a plan, Aunt Lucy,” he said. “But we’re waiting for it to get dark.”
His eyes twinkled when he looked at me and I caught my breath.
I looked away, willing myself not to think about the two of us. Instead, I concentrated on the task ahead. It seemed fairly simple. We would go to Doug Hirshfield’s house, see whether he lived there or not, and if he did, let him know that his ex-sister-in-law was on his trail. We could leave it at that, but at least then we could walk off with a clear conscience. We would no longer be responsible for inadvertently putting him at risk because of our own ignorance.
With all the government screwups these days, I figured a little help from the private sector would at least give Doug Hirshfield an opportunity to take matters into his own hands. And then I was going to address the matter of Jake’s decision to accept this case without thoroughly checking out our client. Nina and Aunt Lucy were right. We needed a mission statement.
Chapter 14
“Let’s see the address,” Jake said.
We were upstairs in the bedroom we shared, pulling on the black sweats Nina had found at Handy Mart and layering T-shirts and socks beneath them in an attempt not to freeze when we went looking for Doug Hirshfield’s house.
I’d been ignoring Jake, grabbing my clothes and then scooting down the hall to change in the bathroom. I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by the thoughts and images that kept appearing without warning in my mind’s eye. I needed to stay sharp and aware. I needed to get this business over with and then think about having a personal life, maybe.
&
nbsp; Jake seemed equally anxious to avoid the subject of last night. He’d stayed tight and focused throughout dinner and was no different now that we were alone.
He scanned the piece of paper I handed him, looked at the street map he’d spread out on the bed and seemed to arrive at a conclusion.
“It’s about twelve blocks from here,” he said. “I think we should walk it. I think we should take Lloyd, head for the beach and see if anyone follows us.”
“So you think Baby doesn’t trust you?” I asked, but I’d already drawn the same conclusion.
A tiny muscle in Jake’s jaw began to twitch. He was irritated.
“I think she’s good at her job,” he said evenly. “I think if I were her, I’d watch us. I also think she’d watch Doug’s house, if he’s alive and living there. If we’re not followed and the house isn’t under watch, then we can turn around and come back home.”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. We would come back to the beach house and then what? I studied his profile as he searched the map. No doubt about it, if we were left alone in a room tonight, he would be mine by morning.
Stop that. No thoughts like that now.
I picked up my coat, turned away from him and headed for the door.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” I said and left.
When he met me in the living room a few minutes later, I’d reverted to my professional, hands-off persona. I felt in control again and ready to work.
Lloyd danced around our legs, half tripping us as we negotiated our way out of the house and down to the street. He sniffed, joyously happy to be out and on the run again. I watched him, sure he was sniffing for recent traces of his new love, Fang; envious that for her, life could be so simple.
“What’re you thinking?” Jake asked.
“I’m thinking I don’t see any signs of a tail,” I said.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody. Why, did you pick something up?”
I looked anxiously over my shoulder, scanning the empty houses, trying to see whatever it was he’d seen, and failing.
Stella, Get Your Man Page 22