Night Moves

by DJ Steele

  She tried not to dwell on the fact that she might never know who Lejeune really was. Yet the worst thing about this was that Lejeune was the one who involved her in this nightmare. Tonight, innocent people died. Laquita could have died.

  She had a sinking feeling that the death of the killer from the Willow Oaks Motel was not the end of her investigation. Two things stood out in her mind. Laquita was right. There was a connection between Lejeune and her. And second, the players interested in the motel murders, the Feds and Bridge Club had a common tie. Russian spies.

  It had gotten colder outside. Her headache was now pounding. She checked the time. She still had a little more than twenty minutes before the Starbucks closed.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and rushed back into the hospital.

  On the third floor she was glad to see the Starbucks still open. After purchasing a Café Mocha and a chocolate chip muffin, she rode the elevator back down to the main lobby. Standing beside her was a middle-aged woman who kept glancing in her direction. The woman dug in her purse, pulled out a business card and handed it to Julia.

  "There’s a 24-hour hotline on it," the woman said in a voice that sounded like a funeral director.

  Puzzled she read the card.

  * * *

  GET HELP TODAY

  We’re here for you.

  * * *

  The card was for a National Domestic Violence hotline.

  "Oh. No. I don’t need this." She tried to hand back the card.

  The woman pushed back on her hand. "Just keep it. You might need it one day."

  Thank goodness the elevator stopped and the doors to the main lobby pulled apart.

  Julia marched to the nearest trash can and threw the card away. No telling what that woman and everybody else in the hospital thought. The bruising around her eye was now a putrid yellow green color. She had dried blood on her sweater from where she had hugged Laquita. Good thing her sweater was black.

  A sudden thought occurred to her. Detective Shockley had given her his card. It was in her crossover bag. She found the card and thumbed the number.

  "Detective Shockley, this is Julia Bagal. I don’t know if this is helpful, but I just saw the woman who hired me to do surveillance at Willow Oaks Motel."

  "Yes. Thanks for letting me know. Are you still at the hospital?"

  "I am, but she ran out the door of the main lobby and I lost her."

  "I’ll meet you in the lobby. I should be there in fifteen to twenty minutes."

  She clicked off her cell and leaned against the wall. He didn’t sound enthused. Why should he? She didn’t give him anything to work with.

  Finding a seat facing the elevators, she took a sip of her hot drink and gobbled her muffin. Feeling better from the caffeine and food, she watched the elevator doors opening and closing. Since it was late, not many people got on or off. Did she think if she stared long enough Kat Lejeune would magically reappear?

  "I’m an idiot," she mumbled to herself.

  Tipping her cup upward to get the last drop of caffeine, she happened to note the digital display above the elevator. The elevator was on the fifth floor. She watched it descend without stopping on any other floors till it got to the lobby. When the doors opened an Asian man and teenage boy exited.

  She remembered the fifth floor was the floor Kat Lejeune had been on. With a surge of excitement, she darted inside the elevator and pressed floor three. The woman clerk was closing up the Starbucks. Julia was able to persuade her to let her buy all the muffins and pastries they had left. Then she got back on the elevator and headed to the fifth floor.

  The fifth floor had several hallways with numbers and directional arrows printed on the slate gray wall. In one direction there was a large double metal door separating another area. She saw a young nurse in blue scrubs hit a round metal button on the wall with her elbow. The double doors opened slowly, one swinging outward and one swinging inward.

  She followed the nurse into the area. This floor had a nurse’s station circled by rooms. Maybe she’d get lucky and discover if Lejeune was on this floor visiting a patient.

  She strolled over to the station where a woman with dyed blonde hair and dark roots was sitting. The woman was riffling through folders. She guessed the woman was her age.

  "Hello. I’m sorry to bother you when I know you’re busy."

  "Are you okay?"

  Julia touched her eye and replied, "I am. I was trying to do home repairs. It’s tough when you live alone and have to do everything yourself."

  "I know what you mean. I’m a single mom."

  "Wow. That’s tough. I guess I have no right to complain."

  The nurse’s name tag said Lisa.

  Julia introduced herself saying, "My name is Sonja Hall. A non-profit my friend and I work for decided this month to show our gratitude to the nurses in our community."

  Julia held up the large bag she had purchased from Starbucks letting the woman behind the station see it. A big smile swept across Lisa’s face.

  "That is very kind of you. What’s the name of your non-profit organization?"

  All the reasons why this was a bad idea flooded her mind. She didn’t think about giving the non-profit a name.

  A big-boned lady in scrubs sitting close to Lisa wheeled her chair around and exclaimed, "Let me guess. Are you that group called Communities Together? Cause I saw that on the TV last month. They were handing out baked goods to our firefighters."

  "I saw that too, Monica," said Lisa to the large woman.

  Julia drew a long breath and answered, "Yes. Communities Together."

  Monica’s face seemed pleased that she knew the answer. And Julia was relieved she let her off the hook.

  "My friend Kat is supposed to bring more food and meet me here. Have you seen her? She’s a young attractive Black woman who is wearing gray pants and a leather jacket. I’m late and I’m afraid she came up here, didn’t see me and left."

  Monica answered first, "There was a young woman like you described here earlier, but she left. She didn’t say anything to us about being with Communities Together."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I’d remember if she brought me something good to eat," cackled Monica. "She visited Congressman Alan Wagner. I’m not sure, but I was told she was his assistant or something like that."

  Julia put the bag on the counter, turned around and left.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The large display on the digital clock glowed 6:10 A.M.

  She gently pulled back the covers and rolled out of bed. The room was dark. Using her hands, she fumbled around the floor until she found her sweater and pants. She couldn’t locate her underwear. Holding her clothes tight against her chest, she tip-toed using her hands to guide her around furniture to the kitchen.

  The kitchen door was closed. There was a sliver of light shining beneath the door. She scurried back to the bedroom, flipped on the light, located all her clothes and dressed. In the bathroom she washed her face and brushed her hair before heading back to the kitchen.

  When she opened the kitchen door, Mike's head whipped around. "Good morning Julia." Mike was standing by the counter pouring coffee in a mug.

  "I don’t have any milk. I do have sugar," he apologized.

  He looked good standing barefoot in his jeans and t-shirt. He was tall and had a lean athletic physique. She liked his thick tousled brown hair with gray temples and his unshaven face.

  "Thanks. Just a little sugar. I thought you were still in bed. What time did you get up?"

  "Not sure. Probably around five."

  When he turned, he had a mug of coffee in each hand. His eyes smiled which ignited her pulse. She quickly averted her gaze. He put the mugs on the table and sat.

  "Can I fix you some breakfast?"

  She pulled a chair out and sat across from him.

  "No thanks. I’m fine."

  "I’ve been told you get hangry when you don’t eat."

  She hated peopl
e telling her that. Her response surprised her. "Thanks, some food would be great."

  She arched back in her chair and stared at the empty wine bottles on the counter.

  "About last night," she began, her voice soft.

  He lifted an eyebrow and interjected, "You have regrets?"

  "No. It’s just that I usually get to know somebody before I sleep with them."

  "I think we got to know each other pretty well last night. By the way, you did great detective work getting a lead in this case."

  He smiled, exposing his dimples.

  She felt the warmth from the flush on her face. "Thanks. I needed to hear that. Lately, I’ve questioned why I bought the business."

  "I’ve never met anybody quite like you. You’ve got an interesting past." He moved to the refrigerator and started pulling food out and placing it on the counter.

  "Did I talk too much?" she asked.

  Mike waited too long to answer. She wished she’d shared less.

  Finally, he turned his attention to her, winked and replied, "I hope I’ll continue to learn more about you."

  Sipping her coffee, she reflected on what had happened. After calling Mike, she went to the Emergency Room to check on Laquita’s status. The receptionist told her Laquita would be released but wasn’t sure how much longer it’d take. Julia left her phone number with the receptionist and then raced back to the lobby to meet Mike.

  When he arrived, they found an area in the hospital lobby that offered privacy. She filled him in on what she had discovered about Kat Lejeune visiting Alan Wagner on the fifth floor.

  While they sat in the lobby and talked, Adam West called. She let Adam know what had happened and that Laquita was at the hospital being treated. He wanted to pick both her and Laquita up and take them to a safe house. The Bridge Club suspected she might still be in danger.

  She lied and told Adam she wasn’t at the hospital, but with a friend. She told him he needed to take Laquita to the safe house and that she would be safe at her friend’s place. Following a few combative exchanges, he relented if she’d agree to stay in touch.

  After explaining to Mike who the Bridge Club was, he urged her to go with them. He suspected there was more to this case.

  "No. I’m not going. This has my grandmother’s name written all over it."

  "Your grandmother?" he quizzed.

  She gave him an abridged background on Elke and being raised by her after her parents died.

  "Whoa. So, your grandma’s a spy?" He sounded impressed.

  She hated how everybody was always impressed with Elke. Maybe she was a little jealous too.

  Mike didn’t hesitate to offer for her to stay at his place and she didn’t hesitate to accept. Their excuse was they could go over everything related to the case and try to figure out what was going on.

  Her first impression of his condo was that he was a man who was satisfied with just the bare necessities in furnishings. No feminine touches.

  Two hours later, after they had shared information about the case, themselves and two bottles of wine, they quit resisting and ended up in his bed. She didn’t regret it. For the first time in her life, she had chosen not to be practical and just enjoy the moment.

  "Is something burning?" she asked.

  "Damn." He hustled over to the toaster oven and popped up the blackened muffins.

  "Looks like it’s just eggs and sausage. I’m afraid I suck at cooking. That’s why I usually eat out."

  "No problem." She grinned.

  While they ate, she asked, "What do you think we’ve got?"

  "A connection. And something tells me Kat Lejeune knows you and that’s why she hired you to do the surveillance."

  "Like I told you, I’d never seen her before she hired me."

  "Perhaps she didn’t know you personally, but through somebody. You told me that you met the Speaker when the President and he visited your grandmother in the hospital."

  "And, the Speaker is recovering on the fifth floor of the hospital," she said finishing his thought. "Same floor Kat Lejeune was on."

  "Yep. You were told that woman could be his assistant by the nurse on duty. That’s a connection," he pointed out.

  "It doesn’t make sense. Why would Kat Lejeune or the Speaker want photos of a journalist and a drug dealer? And none of this explains why Darius Johnson was involved."

  "That’s where the water gets muddy. Maybe the Speaker had Lejeune hire you."

  "That might be it," she agreed. "I remember the President telling Speaker Wagner to work with the FBI and help identify a suspected Russian spy who might have ties to our government. Maybe he found out the reporter had discovered something. And before he goes to the FBI, he wanted to find out who she was meeting and gets his assistant to hire me under false pretense. That way nobody would know what he was doing."

  "Doesn’t explain the drug dealer or Darius Johnson." Mike stroked his chin. "Unless. Somebody hired Darius to kill the reporter because she was zeroing in on the Russian spy."

  "Wait a minute." Julia was taken aback. "Are you implying the Speaker or Kat Lejeune might be a Russian spy."

  "No," said Shockley. "I don’t know. Maybe. Remember I told you about Darius Johnson. He’s a psychopath, not a national security threat or some kind of spy. What we do know is that the Bridge Club, your spy grandma, and the Feds are involved."

  "And whenever my grandmother is involved," she added, "you can bet it has to do with Russians. But that theory still doesn’t explain why a drug dealer was found dead in the same room as the reporter."

  "There are times being a cop means I have to think like a criminal to catch the criminal. If I was going to kill somebody and needed to point the authorities in the wrong direction, then I’d make it look like something it wasn’t."

  "You’re right. The location would make you think it was prostitution or drugs or both. Mike, I think you're on to something."

  "Except for one problem."

  "What?"

  "They wanted you involved."

  "But why?" Julia asked.

  He shook his head. "Wish I knew."

  "Do you think we should talk to the Speaker first and find out what he knows?" suggested Julia.

  "No. Let’s stick to our plan. Gather some hard evidence. If his receptionist is your Kat Lejeune, then we’ll know our next move."

  "And if she isn’t?"

  "Then we’re back to square one. My boss is meeting with the Feds this morning. We don’t have time on our side."

  "Hauser will be at the hospital?"

  "Yep. If Kat Lejeune ties Congressman Wagner to this murder which I suspect she will, then Hauser will arrest him before he’s released."

  "I hope our plan works."

  "It will," he replied with confidence.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Wagner thought about nothing else but Megan ever since she left yesterday.

  She was a link that could blow his cover. Razor had taken care of all the other loose lips as he’d called them. The idea of her being hurt or worse, murdered, was inconceivable to him. There had to be other ways. He didn’t have the stomach for this.

  She told him last night if he needed to talk call her. Maybe she’d understand he was the victim. Surely, she’d believe that he had no idea Razor would handle things the way he did.

  And yet, could he take that chance?

  It was when Joe delivered his supper to him last night that he realized what had to be done. The man from Nigeria worked at the hospital delivering food to patients. He told him people in America could not pronounce his Nigerian name, Enakpodia. He decided it would be easier to call himself Joe.

  Joe was a talkative man with a thick Nigerian accent. Wagner learned about his family, what brought him to America and his dream to be a doctor one day. Joe had heard from the nurses about a young woman who worked with a non-profit organization. This month they were showing appreciation for nurses. Since the nurses had more than they could eat they wanted to give on
e of the muffins to the Speaker. Joe said it was funny that the young woman thought his assistant was supposed to help her deliver the food.

  Last night alone in his hospital room, he thumbed the number on his cell. Not his personal phone on which numbers could be traced. He used the one provided to him by his handler.

  He wanted to relax and believe everything would get back to normal. The clock on the wall said 8 a.m. He felt sick. Nothing would ever be normal for him. He grabbed the water pitcher, held it to his mouth and vomited.

  "What friend is Julia staying with?" Elke demanded of the man on the other line.

  "We don’t know. She refused to say. When we contacted her, she instructed us to pick up her friend, Laquita, from the hospital and transport her to the safe house."

  "Are you telling me that Julia is now giving the orders and not me?"

  The man remained silent.

  Finally, he spoke, "She’s a carbon copy of you. You can’t force her to do what she doesn’t want to do. She agreed to check in. She’s safe."

  "What do the cameras show?"

  "Julia went back home last night. She grabbed her to-go-bag and left the same way she came in, back door. Her vehicle is still parked out front."

  "Was somebody with her?"

  "No."

  "No, there wasn’t somebody with her or no, you don’t know?"

  "No, in that no other person was in the house or visible from outside."

  "Damn, she’s smart. Julia made sure the vehicle and whoever she was with, stayed out of view of the cameras."

  "Did you get what you needed from your source in Ireland?" he asked.

  "More or less. Things don’t always go as planned. Looks like I might have to make a deal to get what we want."

  "Is that wise?"

  "The stakes are too high not to do this."

  "We all do what we have to do to keep our country safe. Good luck."

  "You know I never believe in luck."

  A discernible chuckle was heard from the man. She added, "You and I have a busy morning. Don’t let me down this time."