Chapter 172
"What's going-"
She covered his mouth with her hand. "Shhh. They're coming. Stay quiet. Let me handle this."
She pulled off her dress and her panties and stepped into the shower, immersing herself under water. A knock sounded on the door. She squeezed excess water from her hair and left the water running. She wrapped a towel around her head and another around her body. She left the door to the bathroom partially open so the cops could see that n.o.body else was in the room. She unlatched the chain and opened the hotel door a crack. She managed a frown of concern. "Can I help you?"
One of the cops pushed the door a bit wider, poked his head through the opening and looked about. "We'd like to come in and talk to you, if you don't mind."
"I'm sort of busy." Her gaze fell to the water dripping at her feet. "What's this about?"
"We're looking for a man by the name of Jack Coffey." He held up a picture of Jack. "The clerk who checked you and your husband in last night said your husband looked like him."
She laughed. "Not even close, but you can wait for him to return if you want. Better yet, go see for yourself. He left five minutes ago to grab us some coffee from Starbucks." She gestured behind them. "Right around the corner."
The big, bald cop, the one who had done all of the talking so far, didn't look convinced, but his partner, an older man, drew the other cop back and said, "Go finish up, ma'am, and we'll talk to you when you're done."
"Thanks. I'll just be a minute."
Kate tried to shut the door, but the bald cop's large shoe stopped the door from closing. "I'd like to have a quick look first...then you can finish up."
His partner gave her a sheepish look, but didn't stop his pal from entering her room. Kate had no choice but to let them in. Steam drifted out through the open bathroom door.
When the bald man reached the far end of the room he said, "Hey Brad. Come take a look at this." He pulled a T-s.h.i.+rt from the garbage and held it up. It was Jack's and it was covered with ash from the explosion. The older cop entered the room. As he pa.s.sed the bathroom, Jack came out of hiding and wrapped a strong arm around the older cop's neck and held a gun to his head. Jack gestured to the bald guy who had found the T-s.h.i.+rt. "Put your gun on the floor or your partner's dead."
CHAPTER NINE.
Michael Ray Harrison, named to the position of a.s.sistant Director in Charge of the Los Angeles Field Office three days ago, stepped into the meeting room and took in the details of his surroundings. Conference Room D was of substantial size and impressive decor. In fact, it was once used on a regular basis, back in the sixties and early seventies, by the director of the FBI, Frank Noland, and his men. The eight-foot conference table had claw legs and was inlaid with rosewood. The chairs were big and comfortably padded.
The room reeked of cigar smoke as Robert Conrad, Special Agent, talked and simultaneously exhaled. The odor did not seem to bother Patrick Monahan, the man sitting across the table from Conrad, but nothing ever did. No one ever knew what Patrick was thinking or doing; n.o.body really cared for that matter, and that was the way Patrick seemed to like it-one of the reasons Harrison had handpicked him to work closely with him.
Conrad, on the other hand, was a nervous fidgety man who, with his receding hairline and deeply creased skin, looked at least a decade older than his forty-six years.
At fifty-five, Harrison looked younger than both men sitting before him. Harrison was known for his pulse-fluttering looks, resembling that of a Greek deity. At least that's what his ex-wife used to tell him before she left him for an uptight, mature gynecologist with eyes that bulged from their sockets. Harrison might be the one with the charisma and an aura that gained him the attentions and flirtations of scores of beauties, but the wealthy doctor had gotten the last laugh.
In retaliation, Harrison married Sheila Fabre, a woman a few years older than his eldest daughter. Unfortunately, the cost of keeping a young beautiful wife like Sheila satisfied was astronomical. His ex-wife would be in hysterics if she knew how dearly he was paying to keep Sheila at his side.
The smell of Conrad's cigar floated past Harrison as he took a seat at the head of the table. The only thing that mattered to Harrison these days was getting laid every so often, and right now, tying up all loose ends surrounding the murder of Dr. Forstin. Rookie agent Jack Coffey needed to be taken care of once and for all. There were many ongoing investigations that needed Harrison's attention, but this particular case happened to be stirring up a lot of commotion of late, keeping him awake at night. The director himself had called this morning for an update. The agency didn't like having one of their own on the run. It made the agency look bad. Harrison had been confident that his problems would blow up in smithereens along with the plane that had crashed in the Nevada desert. But somehow Coffey and the Huntley woman had once again managed to slip through their fingers. Coffey needed to be taken out and if Conrad and Monahan couldn't get the job done, he'd have to roll up his sleeves and do the job himself. A job he didn't relish doing. He'd already gotten his hands bloodied once. Now, he was beginning to wonder when this crazy ride would slow down long enough for him to climb off the rollercoaster, so he could breathe again. Burning the candle on both ends wasn't part of the deal when Dr. Elizabeth Kramer had first approached him a decade ago. She told him that Lou, the man in charge of the Cure For AIDS Foundation, was offering to sh.e.l.l out big bucks in exchange for his cooperation.
Harrison wasn't fond of playing good agent, bad agent. He and Coffey had more in common than Jack would ever know. Jack Coffey wasn't the only one who had joined the agency with
Harrison swallowed his regrets and stared Conrad down. "What have you got? Give me something to throw at the director. Something that will stick to the roof of his mouth and keep him quiet for a few days."
"I'm keeping a close eye on A.J. Hanson," Conrad said. "Other than the quick correspondence A.J. and Jack shared before the plane went down, the phone lines have been clear."
It was quiet for a moment before Monahan added, "I sent Rick Harvey to San Diego to attend Dr. Forstin's funeral this morning. I think you'll be glad I did."
Harrison leaned forward...waiting.
"After all of the monotonous rituals were taken care of, Rick Harvey gave his deepest regrets to Forstin's wife. Upon realizing he was with the FBI, she pulled Harvey to the side and told him she'd gone through her husband's things. Apparently she found a pricey bill for a high tech surveillance camera he had installed at his lab. She asked Harvey if they had found anything from the camera that they could use to find her husband's killer." Monahan s.h.i.+fted in his seat. "I didn't see anything in the reports about a surveillance camera."
Harrison felt the blood rush from his face. One word sprinted through his mind...f.u.c.k. If there was a camera in the lab and it was turned on at the time of Forstin's death, all three of them were going to lose their jobs. And that would be the least of their worries.
"I'll check with Henry Gates and his team," Conrad said. "See if they found something when they went through the lab the first time, but failed to put in the reports."
Harrison glanced at his watch. "Check with Gates p.r.o.nto," he told Conrad before turning to face Monahan. "Where's Rick Harvey now?"
"He's on his way back to Los Angeles."
"If nothing comes up after you talk to Gates, I want the two of you at Forstin's lab in San Diego as soon as possible. Find that camera and if there's a disc, destroy it."
Kate looked from Jack to the police officer he held in a chokehold. The cop's face turned red as he gasped for air, but Jack's attention was on the big bald bad-a.s.s cop across the room. Before Kate could tell Jack he might want to loosen his hold, the motel door came open, pus.h.i.+ng Kate flat against the wall and keeping her hidden from whoever had just entered their hotel room without knocking first.
Through the s.p.a.ce between the door hinges and the frame, Kate watched another man enter the room. This guy wasn't wearing a uniform. A blue knit ski mask was pulled tight over his head and face.
The bald cop raised his gun.
A m.u.f.fled gunshot sounded. The bald cop clutched his side and crumpled to the ground.
Kate remained silent. The guy with ski mask had a silencer on his gun, and he meant business. s.h.i.+t. She didn't know what to do. The masked man turned toward Jack, gun aimed and ready. Kate's heart skipped a beat. The masked man still hadn't seen her behind the door. She had to think fast. Pulling the towel from her head, she stepped into view and snapped the towel at the man's wrist, catching him off guard.
The gun fell to the carpet. Kate lunged for the weapon.
The masked man seized a fistful of her wet hair and yanked her back against his chest. She kicked the gun toward Jack and tried to twist out of the man's grasp, but he held tight.
The towel covering her fell to the ground. She was being used as a human s.h.i.+eld...a naked human s.h.i.+eld.
"Put the gun down," the man with the ski mask told Jack, "or your girl here is one dead b.i.t.c.h."
A groan erupted from the cop who'd been shot. He was alive.
Jack still had a chokehold on the other cop, but now Jack's gun was aimed at the man holding her instead of the officer across the room. "Let her go," Jack said.
The masked man slid his cold pale hand over her breast and squeezed. "What are you going to do about it?"
"He's going to kick your a.s.s, that's what he's going to do about it." Kate jabbed her heel into the man's s.h.i.+n, giving herself just enough slack to come up hard with her right elbow, straight into the guy's nose. He stumbled backwards.
Kate bent down and picked up his gun and then covered herself with a towel.
Jack let go of the cop and crossed the room in a couple of strides, his face a maze of angry lines.
The old cop wheezed and coughed on the floor.
Kate watched Jack take a handful of the masked man's s.h.i.+rt and thrust him against the wall. She'd never seen Jack look so menacing. Jack shoved the barrel of his gun into the masked man's temple. "Touch her again," Jack growled, "and your brains are going to paint the walls red.
"Get dressed," Jack told Kate without looking her way.
His order took her by surprise. But she didn't need to be told twice. She ran to the bathroom, picked up her dress, slid it on over her head, and slipped her feet into her new sandals. By the time she found her bag and rushed back to the main room, Jack had used the cop's cuffs to lock the man to the bedrail. He'd also given the man a b.l.o.o.d.y lip. Without the mask covering his face, she recognized him. "Ben Sheldon?"
Jack nodded. "He's definitely becoming a thorn in my side."
Sirens sounded in the distance. Kate looked out the window.
Jack gestured toward Sheldon. "Did he hurt you?"
"Just my pride."
A tic set in Jack's jaw, as if hurting her pride was the worst thing the man could have done to her. They were running out of time. She touched Jack's arm. Jack ushered her outside. Hotel guests and bystanders had gathered in the parking lot to watch the excitement.
CHAPTER TEN.
Jack looked toward the street, gripped Kate's hand and headed in the opposite direction, through the parking lot and around the side of the hotel. He cut through an alley between a laundromat and the hotel. The high-pitched wail of a siren sounded as two police cars pulled up, blocking their path. Jack looked both ways before he pulled Kate back the way they had just come, dragging her down another alley. He headed for The Strip where they could disappear into the crowds.
A deep voice shouted from behind, telling them to stop or they would be shot.
They kept running.
A bullet chipped the cement wall of the building next to him. Jack made a sharp left and then a quick right. An unmarked car screeched to a halt in front of them, red lights swirling. Jack was about to turn around again when he recognized the driver as his good friend A.J.
A.J. jumped out of the vehicle. He opened the back door and gestured wildly for Jack and Kate to climb in.
The cops were getting closer.
"Get in and stay low," A.J. ordered.
Kate jumped in first, her body flat against the floor. Jack climbed in on top of her.
A.J. clicked the door shut just as two officers rounded the corner with guns ready. A.J. ran toward the approaching officers. "They headed east," he shouted. "Stay with them. I'll head up the boulevard and cut them off."
Jack heard A.J.'s footfalls and labored breathing as A.J. moved around the car and slid behind the wheel. A.J. shut the door and gunned it.
Jack used his arms to stop his body from crus.h.i.+ng Kate. The sound of sirens grew faint. Jack kept his head low in the crook of Kate's neck and shoulder. The smell of her rose-scented soap calmed his nerves. The thought of Kate treating herself to perfume and lacey underwear made him smile. Here they were running for their lives, and all he could think about was the way Kate smelled. He recalled her telling him there was nothing soft about her. She was dead wrong about that. Two of her purchases were of the feminine sort. Kate Huntley was soft and tender beneath that hardened exterior. She just didn't know it.
Jack inhaled her sweet scent and brushed his lips across her hair. Blonde hair. He lifted his head another notch. "You dyed your hair."
A m.u.f.fled snort erupted. "And I cut it too, Mr. Observant." She turned her head to the side and blew hair from her face.
"I like it," he said.
"I'm glad," she muttered. "Now could you get off me?"
"A.J.," Jack called out, "can we sit up?"
"Stay down. I'll tell you when it's safe. Won't be long now."
Jack buried his mouth close to her ear again. "Sorry. Got to follow orders."
Kate exhaled. "Could you at least move a little to the left? My right leg is going numb." As soon as he s.h.i.+fted, she pushed her b.u.t.tocks upward, trying to get comfortable. And then she froze.
Jack grimaced. "I don't think you want to do that again."
She did it again.
Jack groaned.
"Is that another gun, Jack?"
"No," he whispered into her ear, "but it's just as deadly."
"Ooooh," she said, "I like it when you talk dirty."
"I don't think this is a good time."
"Is there ever a good time for you, Jack?"
"You two can get up now," A.J. called out.
Jack pushed himself upward. Once he was sitting, he helped Kate to the seat beside him. They were on the highway now, with nothing but dry desert as long as the eye could see. Jack's gaze met A.J.'s in the rearview mirror. "Thanks," Jack said. "I owe you one."
"Yeah, you do," A.J. said. "What the h.e.l.l is going on? You look like s.h.i.+t."
"To tell you the truth," Jack said, ignoring the comment about his looks, "I was hoping you'd be able to shed some light on everything that has gone down in the past few days."
A.J. kept his eyes on the road. "Let's start from the beginning. What the h.e.l.l were you doing in Haiti? And why didn't you tell anyone you were leaving town?"
"Remember the drug lord I was a.s.signed to find...Jonathan Sientos?"
A.J. nodded.
"Well, I found him...via satellite. I also found Kate Huntley."
A.J. let out a low whistle. "The girl who disappeared around the same time as your sister?"
Jack could feel Kate's questioning eyes on him. "Yeah, that's the one." Jack turned to Kate. "Kate, meet A.J. Hanson, computer genius extraordinaire and number one pain-in-the-a.s.s."