Chapter 188
Jack wasn't nervous. Mostly he wanted to get on with things, so he could get back to Kate. If Harrison had anyone with him, Jack had a backup plan. If Harrison showed up alone, Jack would see what the man had to say and take it from there.
A half-dozen teenage kids rode their skateboards around the promenade, shouting and laughing as they went, making pa.s.sersby nervous because of the way they stuck together in a whirlwind of testosterone. Jack smiled at the teenagers. Two of them smiled back, a knowing glint in their eyes. If Harrison brought anyone with him, the kids knew what to do.
Jack looked at the clock again. Two o'clock. He looked back to the pizza kitchen. Sitting at a table, next to the window overlooking the promenade, was Harrison. The man was stealth. He'd appeared out of nowhere.
This was only the second time Jack had ever seen his boss wearing anything other than a suit. Today Harrison wore a pair of loose slacks and a white polo s.h.i.+rt. His silver hair was sleeked back around the ears. He looked calm.
Jack waited a few minutes, keeping a close eye on the people walking by. Two young girls with their cell phones glued to their ears. A woman with a stroller. A young couple holding hands as they window-shopped. n.o.body suspicious caught his eye. Finally, he stood and headed toward Harrison.
Kate was going to climb up on the desk and kick the d.a.m.n computer screen if it didn't warm up a little faster.
Had Auntie looked suspicious when Kate asked for a computer, or was Kate becoming paranoid? Lots of people probably smoked silver-tipped cigarettes.
The screen flashed blue and two rows of symbols popped up. Kate hit the icon Adam had shown her, the icon that would allow her access to information all around the world. She typed in boogie.com, a popular search engine, smiling inwardly when the screen displayed a box for her to type in what she was looking for.
She stopped to think about Auntie's name. Yes, she knew that Auntie also went by "Dr. Kramer" but she had to have a real honest to G.o.d name. Ever since she could remember she'd called the woman "Auntie." She glanced around the room until she spotted a framed diploma hanging on the wall. Be it known that the trustees of Purdue University have granted to Elizabeth Louise Kramer the degree of Doctor of Health Care Innovation. "Dr. Elizabeth Louise Kramer," she said aloud. Nope. The name didn't sound familiar. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember what her mother or father had called Auntie. Armed with this vital information she typed in "Kramer+stock+prices" and then waited.
Kate heard footsteps, which was ridiculous. She'd been in the room for less than five minutes. "Come on. Come on," she said to the computer. The screen flickered before three choices appeared on the monitor: Kramer Stock Report. Kramer Research. Kramer Stock Prices.
Bingo. She slid the cursor down to the third choice, no easy feat for an amateur. It was like trying to write left-handed, but somehow she managed. She moved the cursor on Kramer Stock Prices, clicked, and waited...again.
She stifled a moan of frustration.
She didn't understand the fuss people made over computers. The machines aggravated her. Less than five minutes with the computer, and she already had a throbbing headache.
Two more choices finally popped up on the screen: Monthly Charts and Yearly Charts. She moved the cursor to Yearly Charts and hit Enter. The graphing symbols showed an impressive upward swing, but after she clicked to the next page, she noticed that each new chart showed another story. Next, she clicked on the year Auntie said her father had sold the family company. When the new page filled the screen, Kate leaned closer to the monitor for a better look. That was the year the Kramer stock crashed.
Kate's heart thumped against her ribs as she read the text below the chart: The Company filed Chapter 7 bankruptcy. Equity holders lost millions. Only the bondholders were compensated for the value of their shares.
She hit the Back b.u.t.ton twice more until the screen returned to the s.p.a.ce where she could type in something new. She typed "CFAF Members," hit the Enter key, and waited.
To fill the time, she looked down at her bare feet and admired her polished toes, anything to stop herself from pulling out her hair. The bug-eyed clerk at K-Mart had told her that patience was a virtue. Maybe he was right.
The computer screen blinked. What she saw when the screen lit up again caused her to draw in a ragged breath.
Jack kept his eyes on Harrison.
Somebody b.u.mped into Jack as he walked toward the pizza place. He didn't pay any attention, just kept a steady gaze on his target. An image flashed through his mind as he moved along. The only other time he'd seen Harrison without his signature dark suit and tie was when Jack had first started working for the man nearly seven years ago. Jack recalled popping into Harrison's office with a question, surprised to find his boss dressed in a blue half-zipped jacket and matching shorts. Standing in the foreground was a woman, a woman with a scarf fitted loosely around her head. She wore dark sungla.s.ses, making it impossible for Jack to see her eyes. She had a thin straight nose and high cheekbones. Elizabeth Kramer. s.h.i.+t!
As he reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he'd taken from Auntie's mailbox, unease crept up his spine. At the time he had been in a hurry, but seeing the mailbox at the end of the driveway had reminded Jack that he had no idea who Auntie was...and so he'd taken a piece of her mail. He looked at the envelope; the letter was addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Louise Kramer.
His shoulders drooped. He should have listened to his instincts and never left Kate alone with the woman. Louise. Lou. Appointment with Dr. Forstin. Meetings with Harrison. She was in charge of raising millions of dollars for AIDS research. The antiques in her house started to make sense. She had to be paying Harrison to do her dirty work.
Harrison looked from his left to his right and then straight ahead. As he caught sight of Jack walking toward the restaurant, recognition lit up his face.
A p.r.i.c.kling sensation crawled up the back of Jack's neck, but he didn't look away, didn't blink.
Harrison, on the other hand, shot a quick glance to his right, gave a nod, a subtle nod, but definitely a signal to someone nearby.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack spotted a man wearing shades and a ridiculous looking Burberry sunhat that didn't go with his outfit. The man wasn't doing much besides people watching while sipping a coffee.
A
The moment Jack entered the restaurant, Harrison stood. A black canvas bag sat on the floor by Harrison's feet. Jack held up a finger, motioning for Harrison to wait there. "I'll just be a minute." Jack went to the pick-up line and brought back five boxed pizzas that he'd ordered an hour ago. He set them on the table in front of Harrison.
A twitch set in Harrison's jaw. "I'm not hungry," he said. "Why don't you have a seat, so we can talk?"
Jack leaned over and lifted the black gym bag from the floor. Jack could hear the kids outside, doing their thing. He set the canvas bag on the chair opposite Harrison and peeked inside. A laptop, cash, batteries, everything he ordered over the phone. "Looks like this is for me."
Harrison managed a tight smile. "I'd appreciate it if you would please hand over the disc, Jack."
Leaning closer, Jack stared Harrison down. "Look me in the eyes, boss, and tell me you didn't set me up."
Harrison sighed. "You always were too soft, kid. The job entails quick thinking, an extremely high intelligence, and most of all, a flexible nature."
Jack's lip twitched. "What about solemnly swearing to support and defend the Const.i.tution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic?"
"Sometimes you have to know when to break the rules, Jack." Harrison held out his hand and waited for the disc.
"Seven years ago," Jack said, his chest tight, "I felt honored to stand before you and be sworn in to one of the most revered agencies in the world. I could not have been prouder to know I would be working under a man with strength of character and morals."
"Never judge a man," Harrison said, "until you've stood in his shoes."
"Whatever your reasons for turning on your country, sir...I hope it was worth it."
"Hand over the disc, Jack."
Jack shook his head. "It's over, Harrison. I've sent copies of the disc to the media. I sent the original to the director himself. You're finished."
An older kid, maybe sixteen, holding his skateboard close to his chest, entered the pizza place and looked at Jack.
Jack tipped his baseball cap, a signal for the kid to gather his friends. They were going with Plan B.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.
Auntie stepped into the office. "Time to get dressed," she told Kate. "Our guests will be arriving soon."
Kate willed her hands to stop shaking as she tried to get the cursor to move to the X in the right-hand corner of the monitor. Auntie was only a few feet away from seeing the picture on the screen. As she focused on moving the cursor, so she could exit out of the d.a.m.n site, Kate's heart beat a million miles per second.
Auntie marched forward, intent on pulling her away from the computer. She glanced at the monitor just as Kate clicked the mouse and the screen flashed back to her game of solitaire.
"I'll never understand how people can waste hours looking into a computer screen," Auntie said.
Kate struggled to get the cursor to do her bidding again so she could exit out completely.
"Leave it. I'll have Maria shut it off later. Right now she's waiting in the other room to help you dress."
Blown away at the idea of Auntie being one of the bad guys, Kate thought she might be sick. Unsure of what to do next, she obediently stood and followed Dr. Elizabeth Louise Kramer out the door and into the hallway. A familiar hollow, empty feeling washed over her. "I'm a big girl, Auntie. I can dress myself."
"Humor me, dear, and give Maria something to do."
As Jack exited the restaurant, a dozen kids piled into the California Pizza Kitchen. "Free pizza for everyone," Jack told the kids as he pointed to the pizza boxes piled in front of Harrison.
Harrison stood, but the kids had been coached on what to do. There was no way Harrison was going to get by them. Every kid had been paid twenty dollars to annoy the h.e.l.l out of the man. Jack had two dollars left to his name. That is, until Harrison showed up with cash and a laptop that would hopefully allow him to read the disc.
Outside, Jack looked back at Harrison.
"You'll never get away," Harrison said.
"We'll see about that. If there's one thing I learned since you promoted me, Harrison, it's how to be ready for anything."
Jack headed across the promenade.
The man with the sunhat stood.
Jack cut a sharp left into Macy's department store and rushed into the men's dressing room as he'd already done three times this morning. "Are you here, kid?"
The door to the last dressing room came open. A tall, gangly teenager gestured wildly for Jack to hurry. "What took you so long?"
The kid was a junior in high school, but he was a basketball player, and he stood at about six foot four inches.
Jack stripped down to his boxers.
The kid's baggy pants were too long on Jack, but they would have to do. Jack removed his baseball hat and placed it on the kid's head. Next, he reached inside the black bag.
"Can I get you any other sizes?" a clerk asked from the other side of the dressing room door.
"No," they both answered at the same time.
The kid put on Jack's s.h.i.+rt while Jack slipped on the kid's hooded sweats.h.i.+rt and zipped the front before handing the boy five crisp one hundred dollar bills. "Pull the cap lower when you leave here and then run as fast as you can, right out the front entrance. Whatever you do, don't stop running. Harrison's friend means business. He's the guy with the funny Burberry hat and aviators. His sideburns are too long and he's wearing a short-sleeved b.u.t.ton-up s.h.i.+rt, untucked. He's probably carrying a gun."
The kid laughed. "I have a gun."
"On you?"
"No. Dude, I'm not stupid. But if the dude follows me home, he's not gonna like my brothers."
"Just stay safe, will you?"
The boy left without another word. Jack grabbed the black bag and slipped out, too. He needed to get back to Kate before it was too late. Peering out the store window, Jack watched the kid weave his way through the crowd. Sure enough, the man wearing aviators followed the teenager until Harrison showed up and pointed toward the department store. Not good. Both men were headed Jack's way.
Jack turned around and sprinted back the way he'd come, trying to keep his baggy pants on and knocking into a few shoppers in the process. "Excuse me," he said. "Sorry."
The escalator was crowded, too crowded to squeeze his way through to the top. He looked back toward the door. The man with the hat was a big guy, as tall as he was wide, and a lot faster than he looked. Harrison was close behind with gun drawn.
A woman screamed. People panicked the moment they spotted Harrison's weapon.
Using more force than he intended, Jack decided to push his way through the dense crowd. "Sorry. Man with a gun after me. I need to get through." That seemed to do the trick and Jack made it to the top before Harrison could do something crazy like fire a shot into the crowd.
At the top of the escalator, Jack cut a sharp right and ran straight ahead, putting him smack dab in the middle of a frenzy of female shoppers. There was a sale going on in the lingerie department. Women of every age sifted through piles of satin and silk. Knowing Harrison and his friend must be close, Jack headed for the dressing rooms. He pushed on dressing room doors as he went, but they were all being used. He got lucky when the second to last door opened.
Unfortunately, the room wasn't empty.
Before the woman could scream, Jack grabbed her around the waist, put his hand over her mouth, and kicked the door shut.
He caught her angry expression in the mirror.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I'll be gone in a flash. I'm not going to hurt you." He looked at her in the mirror. "Do you understand?"
She nodded.
Judging by all the bras she had piled in the dressing room she was having a difficult time finding what she needed. At least she wasn't braless at the moment.
"Jack, it's me," a male voice called out. "Rick Harvey, Criminal Investigative Division."
Jack grimaced. He liked Rick, and he couldn't stand the thought of yet another agent being corrupted by Harrison.
The woman's eyes widened in fear. She pushed away from him and ran out the door.
Jack rolled his eyes. Then he reached into his pocket, stepped out of the dressing room, and promptly put a gun to Rick's head, surprised to see that Rick Harvey and the guy in the Burberry hat were one and the same. "Put your gun on the ground, Rick."
Harvey did as he said, and raised his hands to the air. "I sent Harrison the other way," Rick said, "but he's going to be here any minute, Jack. I'm on your side. I'm the one who called A.J. and tipped him off, letting him know you were in Vegas. I owed you. If it weren't for you, my niece would have ended up on a milk carton."
"If you're one of the good guys, then why are you here now?"
"I let Harrison think I had been recruited by Conrad and Monahan. We have been watching those two for a while now."
Jack could hear a woman crying in one of the dressing rooms. Just in case Rick couldn't be trusted, Jack kicked Rick's gun toward the room he had exited.
"You better get going," Rick said. "Make a right after you exit the dressing rooms. At the far left wall you'll see an emergency exit. I'll try to detain Harrison for a few more minutes, but you gotta move."
Jack didn't know who he could trust any longer, but he didn't have time to think about it. He took off, knowing he could get shot in the back on his way out. Jack ran out of the dressing area and cut to the right. The lingerie department was now empty. Jack headed for the emergency exit and shot through the doors. Alarms blared. He needed to get back to Kate.
Kate didn't know what to do. She was dressed to the hilt in a white Oscar de la Renta deep-V dress, and she had no place to go. It was six o'clock. She had put Auntie off for the past thirty minutes, feigning a queasy stomach. She knew she wouldn't be able to stall for much longer. Did Auntie know that one of her partners was a cold-blooded killer?
Kate sat on the edge of the bed. Of course she knew. Seeing those pictures on the Internet had put every nerve ending in her body on red alert. Ben Sheldon, aka Benjamin Greene, had been in every picture with Auntie, smiling and enjoying his good fortune, his arm draped casually around Dr. Elizabeth Louise Kramer's shoulders. Louise.
Jack was right. Auntie couldn't be trusted. CFAF, the organization that had raised millions of dollars for AIDS research, was not what it seemed.
The picture that startled Kate most was the photo of three of them on the yacht: Ben Sheldon, Auntie, and a man whose grey eyes and serpent tattoo had haunted her every night for the past ten years: Roger Cott.