Delta Force Die Hard

by Carol Ericson

  “Could’ve gone either way.” Joe batted his eyelashes at her. “Are you implying I’m no dark-haired beauty?”

  “It didn’t say dark red.” She crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it at him.

  He caught it and closed his fist around it. “Let’s see what yours is, and then we’ll know for sure if Lottie tampered with the fortunes.”

  With a smile playing about her lips, Hailey broke the remaining cookie in two and pulled the slip of paper from one half. As she read the words, her mouth twisted, killing her smile.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just one of those stupid, generic fortunes that could apply to anyone.” She dropped the fortune as if it scorched her fingertips.

  “No tall red-haired strangers in your future?” Joe swept up the piece of paper, a frown creasing his brow.

  He read this one aloud, too, but he didn’t have to. Hailey had already memorized it.

  “‘Be on the lookout for coming events. They cast their shadows beforehand.’” He dropped the fortune, and it floated to the table. “You’re right—just silliness. I guess Lottie didn’t rig the cookies.”

  “Coming events casting shadows? That sounds ominous.” She flicked the piece of paper away from her—the farther, the better.

  “Hailey.” He entwined his fingers with hers. “Those are printed words someone baked into a cookie around the corner.”

  “Yeah, I know that.” She bit into the cookie, catching a shower of crumbs with her hand. “I just don’t think I’ve ever gotten a serious fortune like that one before.”

  “I get those all the time.” He smoothed out his own fortune with his thumb. “It’s the sexy ones like this I never get.”

  She cracked a smile, feeling like an idiot. She may have a lot of problems right now, but a warning from a cookie wasn’t one of them.

  Her phone buzzed, and as she reached for it, she noticed Joe folding his fortune and slipping it into his wallet. He’d probably done that to make her feel better.

  Uneasiness fluttered in her belly as she glanced at her phone’s display. “I don’t know what this number is, but it’s local. Hello?”

  A man’s voice answered, his words carrying a slight accent. “Is this Hailey Duvall?”

  “Yes, it is. Who’s this?” She shrugged her shoulders at Joe’s raised eyebrows.

  “My name is Joost Palstra. I’m a friend of Marten’s.”

  Hailey gripped the phone tighter. “Have you seen Marten lately? We were supposed to get together and he never showed.”

  Joe tapped the leg of her chair with his foot and she held up her finger.

  “I saw Marten yesterday afternoon. He was staying with me. That’s why I’m calling. He took off, but he left some stuff here.”

  “D-did he tell you he was going somewhere?”

  “You know Marten, sketchy on the details. Anyway, he did ask me to call you if he didn’t return, so I’m doing that, but I’m thinking his disappearance might be related to his gambling.”

  Hailey’s heart stuttered. “What makes you think that?”

  “He has a lot of people looking for him all of a sudden—and they don’t look like the type of guys you want to disappoint.”

  Chapter Six

  Hailey’s eyes grew round, and she put one hand over her heart.

  Joe shoved a napkin and pen toward her and tapped on the napkin with his fingertip.

  As she continued to talk to Marten’s friend, she scribbled on the napkin.

  Joe squinted at the words she’d written—people looking for Marten—and cocked his head. If they’d killed him, why would they be looking for him?

  Before he could write a question back, Hailey ended the conversation on the phone.

  Snatching the napkin back, she said, “Marten had been staying with Joost and told him to call me if he didn’t return, but now people are looking for Marten.”

  “Wait.” Joe held up his hands. “Is this guy at a hotel?”

  “A hotel? No.” Hailey looked up, pen poised above the napkin. “Why do you think that?”

  “Don’t forget, I followed Marten from the airport. He went to a hotel in some ritzy area of the city—Nob Hill, I think. That’s how I tracked him to the Alcatraz ferry last night. He wasn’t staying with anyone.” He leveled a finger at her phone. “How do you know this guy is legit and not trying to lure you into a trap?”

  “Marten has mentioned this friend before, and why would he warn me about unsavory characters searching for Marten if he were an unsavory character?”

  “Maybe to gain your trust. Does this Joost know who these people are?”

  She wrote an address on the back of the napkin. “Nope, just that they’re pretty shady looking.”

  “Joost...” He stopped and scratched his chin. “What kinda name is Joost, anyway?”

  “He’s Dutch, like Marten. Has a very slight accent.”

  “So... Joost didn’t think there was anything strange about Marten not returning to his place?”

  “Marten warned him that he might be taking off at any time and told him if he did, he was supposed to call me.”

  “And tell you what?”

  “That he wants me to pick up whatever Marten left behind.” Hailey’s gaze had locked onto her crumpled fortune on the table. “Joost wants me to come by and get Marten’s stuff.”

  “From your side of the conversation, I gather you’re going to pick it up now at Joost’s place?”

  “Of course. Whatever Marten left for me might contain a clue or something as to what he was doing here and why he wanted to see me.”

  “You’re not going alone.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the plate-glass windows overlooking the chaos of Chinatown. “There still might be someone following you, although I kept a close watch on the way over here.”

  She put a hand over her mouth. “You were watching to see if we had a tail? I didn’t even notice. Why didn’t you let me in on it?”

  “And make it obvious that I was on the lookout? We weren’t followed here, and we’re not going to be followed to Joost’s.” He gulped down some water and put the glass on top of the fortune that had spooked Hailey. “Where does he live and how do we get there?”

  “He’s in the Sunset District. We’ll need a car to get there.” Hailey picked up the bag containing their leftover food and swung it from her fingers. “I suppose I can’t lug this around the city.”

  “We can have the car make a stop at your place and put it in the fridge. Then we can pick up your car at the same time.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want to drive over, and I know how to make good use of the food without throwing it away.” She pointed to the cell phone in his hand. “You want to order a car on that app? Have him pick us up two blocks down so he doesn’t have to drive into this mess.”

  “Sure.” While he tapped his phone, Hailey spoke with Lottie and put something in the bag with the food.

  On the way out the door, Joe waved to Lottie, who gave him a secret smile. She had planted that fortune, and he just might follow its advice.

  They meandered down the sidewalk, their pace slowed by the tourists ducking in and out of the shops and restaurants that lined the streets.

  When they reached the end of Chinatown, Hailey tapped his arm. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

  He watched her walk, her long stride eating up the pavement beneath her feet, the plastic bag banging against her leg. When she reached a small park, she cut in toward a set of benches where a couple of homeless guys were lounging. She held out the bag to the man on the first bench, said a few words and spun around, heading back toward him.

  Joe mumbled under his breath, “Do-gooder.”

  Hailey reached him seconds before their car pulled up to the curb. He got the door for her, and as she slid onto the ba
ck seat, he asked, “Do you do that often?”

  “Give my leftovers to the homeless? When it’s convenient for me to do so, like today.”

  “Yeah, right. Don’t downplay your charitable heart.” He squeezed her knee. “I told you, I’m impressed as hell.”

  The driver twisted his head over his shoulder. “How are you folks doing today? Sunset?”

  “Yes.” Hailey pulled the napkin from her pocket and rattled off Joost’s address. Then she turned to Joe. “I hope he’s there before we are. He was on his way home.”

  “We’ll wait for him outside. At least it’s not raining.”

  The driver sped up and down the hilly streets until they reached wider roads with more suburban-type housing.

  Joe pressed his hand against the window. “This is different.”

  “This area’s a little more residential. Joost lives in the garage apartment of a house. He told me to go around the side of the house for his front door. There are a lot of rentals like that here—cheaper.”

  The driver pulled up to a light blue clapboard house with a motorcycle parked on one side of the driveway.

  They exited the car and circled around to the side of the house.

  “That’s it.” Hailey gestured toward a sliding glass door. “That’s his front door.”

  “What do we do? Knock on the glass?” Joe stepped up to the slider, and something crunched under his feet.

  He lifted his right foot and stirred the broken glass with the toe of his shoe. “What’s this?”

  “Joe.” Hailey was bending over, her face close to the glass door. “Look.”

  He zeroed in on her fingertip and saw a square of glass cut out from the door near the handle. He whistled. “Looks like Joost’s place has been burglarized.”

  He stuck his finger through the hole and was able to flick down the lock on the door. “How thoughtful. The thief locked up after himself.”

  “Maybe he was hoping Joost wouldn’t notice, or maybe Joost is the one who locked it after he got home.” Hailey rapped on the glass and called out. “Joost? It’s Hailey Duvall. Are you home?”

  Joe cocked his head, listening for a response. Then he kicked the glass out of the way and said, “Nope, the burglars locked up after they did their business.”

  Joe had already unlocked the door from the inside, so he grabbed the handle to yank open the slider.

  Hailey put her hand on his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to see what happened to Joost’s place. If we’re lucky, the thieves will still be here and I can get some answers out of them.”

  “Is that always your first response?” Hailey wedged one hand on her slim hip. “That’s what motivated you to jump on that car this morning, too.”

  “Damn straight. You can’t let the bastards get away when they’re under your noses.” He slipped his gun out of its holster and pulled open the door. When he stepped inside, he thought he’d made a wrong turn into a computer lab. Rows of monitors blinked at him, and others displayed scrolling data.

  Hailey took a slow turn around the room. “I guess the burglars weren’t after computer equipment.”

  Joe put a finger to his lips and crept toward the bathroom, the only other room in the apartment. When he saw it was empty, he returned to the other room, where Hailey was standing next to the door. He shook his head at her. “Nobody here.”

  “What were they after?” Hailey picked up an upended sofa cushion and dropped it. “Loose change?”

  Joost’s place was that of a bachelor—his living room doubled as his bedroom, and the large bed in the corner had been searched, its mattress askew, the covers ripped off and tossed aside.

  Hailey traced her fingers down the spines of the books that had been pulled off the shelves and restacked, helter-skelter. Folding her arms over her chest, she turned toward him. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “That someone knew Marten was staying here and decided to look for his stuff?”

  She nodded. “That about covers it.”

  “Then, yeah, we’re on exactly the same page.”

  “Stop right where you are.”

  Joe spun around, stepping in front of Hailey and aiming his gun at the door. He stopped when he caught sight of the curly-haired blond wielding a baseball bat like Babe Ruth on steroids.

  “Joost?” Hailey waved her arms. “I’m Hailey. This is my friend Joe. We just got here and saw that someone had broken into your place.”

  The Dutchman tightened his grip on the bat and then dropped it and rushed to the bank of computers, jabbering in what had to be Dutch.

  Joe cleared his throat. “Doesn’t look like those have been touched.”

  “I hope not. I have about a year’s worth of work for this one customer cranking away on these computers.”

  “Your books, your bed, every other piece of furniture, however, suffered a good going-over.” Hailey flung out one arm to encompass the disheveled room.

  Joost pushed the curls from his eyes. “Good luck finding anything of value other than the computers.”

  Joe asked, “Is there anything missing? Can you even tell?”

  Joost surveyed the mess. “The only thing I can think of is in the bathroom. Did they ransack the bathroom, too?”

  “Couldn’t tell at first glance. I just poked my head in there to make sure the thieves were gone.”

  The bat dragging on the floor behind him, Joost loped into the bathroom and threw open the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet. He spit out an expletive, which sounded a lot more expressive in Dutch.

  “They took my meds.”

  “Your meds?” Hailey glanced at Joe and tapped her head.

  “My medication. I suffer from what you’d call social anxiety. The drugs I take for that are in high demand on the black market.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Hailey grimaced. “Can you get them replaced?”

  “I’ll call my doctor.”

  “What about the police? Are you going to call the police?” Joe folded his arms and wedged his shoulder against the bathroom’s doorjamb.

  “I have to if I want my doctor to give me refills. I think I have to submit a police report or something.”

  Hailey nudged Joe’s back. “Is there anything else missing, Joost?”

  “Not that I notice.” Joost hunched his rounded shoulders. “I’m just glad they didn’t touch the computers.”

  “Don’t you think that’s weird?” Joe stepped back as Joost made a move to leave the bathroom. “Thousands of dollars of computer equipment and the thief takes a couple bottles of pills?”

  “He was probably a junkie. Didn’t care about the computers, probably didn’t have the means to move them out of here.”

  Joe pointed to the sliding glass door. “A junkie with burglary tools? That was a glass cutter.”

  “I don’t know.” Joost ran his hand over the top of one of his monitors in a caress. “I’ll let the cops figure that out. It’s not like they’re going to catch him. The SFPD doesn’t put much effort into catching petty criminals.”

  “If that’s what he was.” Hailey perched on the arm of a sofa covered in comic books, dumped there from the basket lying on its side next to a cushion from the same sofa.

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Joost drew a pair of shaggy blond eyebrows over his nose.

  Hailey tapped the toe of her boot. “Joost, we came here because you called me about Marten, told me he’d left something with you and had asked you to call me if he didn’t return. Then Marten mysteriously disappears, nefarious types start looking for him and someone breaks into your place. You still think this was some junkie looking for a high?”

  Joost’s round face crinkled. “Marten disappeared mysteriously? He just left. He was here one day and the next day...gone. Those guys searching for him? Probably boo
kies. I grew up with Marten in The Hague. Marten was born mysterious, so nothing he does surprises me. Are you worried about him?”

  Hailey placed her hands on her knees and hunched forward. “We were supposed to meet on the last ferry to Alcatraz yesterday. You heard the news about someone falling or jumping from an Alcatraz ferry?”

  Joost nodded, his pale blue eyes wide.

  “That ferry.” Hailey compressed her lips into a thin line.

  “You think that was Marten who went overboard? Last I heard it was a hoax and nobody went over.”

  “I thought I saw him on the ferry that night, and he—” she jerked her thumb at Joe “—followed Marten right onto the ferry, but he never came off and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  Joost transferred his gaze from Hailey to Joe. “Why were you following Marten?”

  Joe threw up his hands. “That doesn’t matter. We think he was pushed off that boat...murdered.”

  “That wasn’t Marten. He could’ve survived in the bay.” Joost shook a finger at Hailey. “He was half a second away from making the Olympic swim team for the Netherlands. The coast guard hasn’t found a body yet.”

  Joe preferred the angry, bat-wielding Joost to this mellow dude who had an explanation for everything.

  Hailey pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I don’t know if Marten is dead or alive. I don’t know what happened on that ferry, but there are too many strange coincidences going on, and now your place has been burglarized minutes before I get here, ready to collect Marten’s things.”

  “Hours.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve been gone since this morning. The break-in could’ve happened hours ago.”

  “Okay, whatever.” Hailey rolled her eyes at Joe.

  Joe took a deep breath. “We don’t know what happened to Marten, but what we do know is that someone broke into your place and you don’t even know if Marten’s things were stolen. Have you looked? Was his stuff in this room?”

  “Things?” Joost blinked his eyes. “Did I say ‘things’? It’s just one thing Marten left for you in case he didn’t return, and that couldn’t have been stolen.”