by Wasp, A. E.
“We don’t,” Ridge said flatly from wherever he was hiding.
“Exactly. You can head upstairs,” Danny told Steele. “We’ll be up in a minute, as planned.”
He towed me out of the wine cellar into the carpeted floor of the basement and then into a small powder room where I stripped off my shirt as quickly as possible. Danny wiped me down with a damp cloth.
“Ridge, what about you?” Steele demanded. “You good?”
“Barely. I’m currently on the dormer roof outside the senator’s bedroom window.”
“The fuck you are,” Leo warned.
“Yeah, no, just kidding.” Ridge exhaled in a whoosh like he’d just jumped and landed on something. “I’m inside. The secretary left the room.”
“Ring is stationary,” Wes said. “She left it in there somewhere.”
“Super. Any clue where?”
“Uh… based on the blueprints, it’s in the master bathroom,” Wes said.
“But I already checked there!”
“Well, check again,” Wes said. “But this time do it right.”
Danny snorted, and I raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged and reached under the vanity to extract the black nylon backpack Steele had left there.
“What?” he mouthed. “Wes is an ass, but a funny ass.”
“Thanks so much for the help, Wes,” Ridge grumbled. “No, really. You are the MVA of this mission, buddy. That’s Most Valuable Asshole, in case you’re as slow on the uptake as you pretend to be.”
Wes sighed like he was thirty-two flavors of put-out. “Fine. I’m tracking you by your chip. We can play a long distance game of hot and cold.”
“Oh, goody,” Ridge drawled. “I love games.”
“You need to get your ass downstairs,” Carson insisted. “Time’s wasting, and I’ve seen more than one old lady clutch her pearls and cover a yawn. Unless we want the only witnesses of phase two to be prostitutes and politicians, hurry the fuck up.” In the next breath, Carson said more loudly, “Senator! You’ve got to tell me where you hire your staff. The drinks your bartender is serving are incredible. It’s called a Brown Derby.”
“Leo,” Steele said. “You have the vial?”
Leo didn’t dignify this with a response, either because he wasn’t in a position to subvocalize or because he thought Steele was an idiot for asking. My money was on the second option.
Danny slapped me on the shoulder, a reminder that I couldn’t stand still and listen all night. I had a role to play. I pulled the clothing from the backpack, identical to the ruined suit I’d been wearing, and began dressing.
“These suckers taste like grapefruit,” Leo said in a jovial, outgoing way that had me and Danny exchanging a look in the bathroom mirror. “Perfect for the senator from Florida! Let me getcha one! I’ve had about four,” he confided.
Harlan chuckled. “Alright, twist my arm!”
Leo laughed delightedly. “See that, Ben? I always say, trust a man who can hold his liquor. Precious fucking few real men around these days, am I right?”
Carson-as-Ben made a vague sound of agreement. “You’re always right, Leo.”
“Hell yes, I am,” Leo said. “A round for all of us! Be right back!”
“Your friend seems to be enjoying the party,” the senator remarked, probably to Carson.
“Oh, yes,” Carson said. “Loving it.”
“Has he made a trip to the VIP section?”
“Not yet,” Carson said. “I think he needs another drink… or maybe three. Notoriously high tolerance, you know.” He stressed the last sentence pointedly.
“Ah. Thought it was something like that,” Harlan said speculatively. “FBI doesn’t just suspend a career man like Agent Shook for nothing.”
“Quite,” Carson agreed.
“Here we are!” Leo said, rejoining them. “One for you, Benny-Boy. And one for your lovely friend the senator. And this big one is for me. Bottoms up!”
There was a giant slurp over the comms that sent a shivering vibration up my spine. Not remotely comfortable.
“Ooh, that’s got a kick,” the senator said, coughing slightly. “What did you say is in this?”
“Whiskey! A man’s drink,” Leo told him. “Just like my daddy used to drink.”
I looked at Danny as I buttoned up my light blue shirt. I wondered if Leo was laying it on a little thick with the good-old-boy routine. I’d never heard him mention his father before.
But when Leo encouraged him to “Drink up!” we heard the vague sound of liquid and then Leo’s triumphant crow of laughter. “That’s the way! Yes, indeed, Senator. I knew you were a man, just like my daddy.”
The senator coughed again, and his voice sounded strangled. “Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “Never let it be said I can’t hold my liquor.”
There was a slapping sound, and I imagined Leo thumping Harlan on the back. I only wished it were harder.
“Never, indeed! Well, introduce me around to your friends, Senator Harlan! These seem like my kind of guys.”
I tucked my shirt into my pants and shrugged into my jacket. I wondered idly how Harlan was feeling about Leo leading him around his own party.
Didn’t fucking matter though, or it wouldn’t for long. Leo’s job had been to lace the senator’s drink with a healthy dose of Burundanga powder, more commonly known on the street as Devil’s Breath or scopolamine. A couple sips of that would have turned Snow White into a zombie with almost no memory of recent events. Trust Leo to make sure the guy had taken the whole fucking drink in one go.
“Showtime!” Danny said. “Breck and I are good to go. Ridge, you ready?”
“Yeah,” Ridge said, sounding slightly breathless. “Wes directed me to the ring. Safe was behind a fake heating return in this bathroom linen closet. But I practically needed a U-Haul to get all the shit out of there. Papers and pictures and enough DNA results to put Jerry Springer out of business.” Ridge paused. “Is he still in business?”
“No one gives a shit, Pfeiffer,” Steele said.
“Right,” Ridge said. “As expected, there were tapes and tapes and more fucking tapes. Wes is gonna be hard for six weeks watching them all.”
“Pfft. No fucking way!” Wes said, disgusted. “I’m happy to put the tapes on a system where y’all can take turns.”
“I left them in Carson’s car,” Ridge said. “You guys can fight over them later. And I did my wardrobe change too.”
“Good. Where are you now?” Steele demanded. “I need you in the dining room to…” He broke off with a pained yelp.
“I’m hee-eere,” Ridge sang. Wes snickered.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Steele exclaimed. “Don’t sneak up on me unless you want an up-close look at your own asshole.”
“Aw. That hurts, Alvarez. You don’t seem to mind it when my little brother touches you,” Ridge teased.
“Younger by thirteen fucking minutes,” I said, because that was my expected line every time Ridge called me his little brother. “And keep your fucking hands off my boyfriend.”
“Oh, boyfriend is it?” Ridge gloated. “All official and shit?”
Well, it wasn’t exactly all official and shit, but…
“Yeah,” Steele said. “All official and shit.”
Alrighty, then. I grinned at Danny, who laughed silently back at me.
“In position,” I said as we climbed to the top of the basement stairs and paused by the door.
“Ready,” Steele confirmed. “Ridge, get going.”
“Oh. My. Gawd!” Ridge said, loud enough that we could hear him through the thick wooden door as well as over the comms, though he was several rooms and dozens of people away. “Lucretia Baumgartner, your dress is amazing!”
Ghost-in-the-night cat-burglary aside, when you wanted a job done with zero subtlety, my brother was the man to call.
I had no idea what woman he was accosting, or if Lucretia was really her name, but it didn’t matter. Ridge’s job had been to make a qui
ck scene that would be noticed by everyone, including the senator. Judging from the silence followed by titters of laughter, he’d accomplished that mission with perfection.
“Something wrong, Senator Harlan?” Carson asked in concern. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No. No, I’ve seen a… a problem,” Harlan corrected, slurring his words just slightly. “A problem that shoulda been solved already. I need Mickey. Where’s Mickey?”
Danny and I exchanged a glance. Snow White sounded loopy already. The drug was acting even more quickly than I’d thought.
“Mickey?” Carson repeated, so innocently I’d truly believe he had no idea what Harlan was talking about if I didn’t know better. “Who’s Mickey?”
“Mickey,” the senator insisted, louder now. “You know. Your Mickey.”
Carson hesitated. “Senator Harlan, I…I’m afraid I don’t know anyone named Mickey, sir.”
“Of course you fucking do, Waters!” Harlan snarled. “Mickey was your man! You fired him!”
All conversation had ceased, and I imagined every eye was on the senator.
“Senator, please! Let go of my shirt,” Carson shouted, all affronted dignity. “It’s Savile Row!”
I wished I were a fly on the wall out there, but if I went out too soon, it would ruin the plan. I could just imagine how Harlan’s face looked, spittle flying out of his mouth as his face turned the same apoplectic shade of puce it had been the night he’d beaten me and Danny. The difference was, tonight he was the one getting fucked over.
“I don’t give a shit what it… what…” The senator inhaled loudly. “Fuck you!” he shouted, and Carson gave a little cry like maybe Harlan had pushed him…or more likely Carson had made himself appear to be pushed. He was good at shit like that.
“That boy!” Harlan shouted. “The one causing the commotion. Where did he go?”
“What boy?” Leo demanded. “Senator, maybe you should sit down.” He raised his voice and called out, “Does anyone know where the senator’s secretary is? Or his wife?”
“Mary Lou isn’t here,” a woman in the crowd said, faint disapproval in her voice. “Which is highly unusual.”
“Not so very unusual,” someone else said dryly. “Not where Harlan is concerned. His entertainments aren’t always appropriate for ladies.”
There were more shocked gasps in the crowd, and I couldn’t have stopped smiling if you paid me.
“There he is again!” Harlan said, and I assumed Ridge had made another lightning-fast appearance. “He was… where the fuck did he go?”
“Somebody’s swear jar’s filling up fast,” I chortled under my breath. “Please let someone faint in horror, please let someone faint in horror.”
Wes chuckled. “I’m just sad I had to disrupt cell service in the area so no one’s live streaming this shit. No one besides me, I mean.”
“How are you even doing that?” I demanded. “I thought you said before that Harlan didn’t have security cameras inside? Did someone plant one?”
“Harlan did!” Wes said happily. “He’s got a top-of-the-line smart TV from a couple years back. Only the best for our favorite senator, naturally. But of course the smug fucker didn’t think to update any of his privacy settings.” He chuckled. “So as soon as I hacked into the wi-fi, I got myself a root shell on the TV, and now I control it. Camera, mic, and all. Eeet eees mine, alllll mine!” he cackled like a super-villain.
“I have no idea what a root shell is, but I’m going to get one tattooed on my ass when this is over,” Ridge promised. “This is excellent.”
Steele laughed. “We’ve got the angles right, Wes? You’re not catching Ridge in the frame at all?”
“Not even a little. Kid’s a pro,” Wes confirmed. “Right now it looks like Harlan is flipping out at shadows.”
“Shank you,” Ridge said. “I try.”
“Awesome. Danny, you’re up,” Steele instructed.
Danny wiggled his eyebrows at me and stepped out, closing the door most of the way behind him.
He sashayed his ass toward the living room, where all the action was taking place. When he got to the rear of the crowd, who were all pushing for a better glimpse of the senator’s breakdown and not paying attention to Danny in the slightest, he stood on his tiptoes and waved wildly.
Harlan lost his mind.
“That’s the other one! The other cocksucker! Right behind you!”
The crowd all turned in the direction Harlan pointed, including Danny, who managed to lose himself in the press of people.
“He was right there!” Harlan exclaimed. He walked to where Danny had been standing a few seconds before, then turned himself in a full circle, like he expected Danny to pop out at any moment. “He was supposed to be covered in blood and...” He put his hand on his head and rubbed his forehead.
The senator’s secretary appeared at his side, wide-eyed.
“Senator, maybe you should lie down,” she suggested. “I think you’ve had too much to drink. Maybe a cool compress?”
But the senator did not want to lie down. No, he wanted to run full-tilt toward his total destruction.
“I can hold my liquor! I’m a fucking real man.”
“Oh, heavens,” Carson groaned. “I think she’s right, sir. Perhaps if you…”
“I can… I can buy and sell you, Ben Waters!” The senator pointed an accusing finger at Carson. “I have a tape of you and… and one of those boys! And don’t you forget it.”
Carson’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” he demanded. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t you… play dumb,” the senator slurred, leaning on his secretary so heavily, it was a wonder she didn’t collapse. “Thass why you’re here! Because I control you.”
Whoa. Allll the secrets were coming out now.
“I’m here because I was considering a campaign contribution! Which, let me tell you, you will not be receiving. I have never seen such a display.” Carson looked at his audience for support.
Most of the women and several of the men were nodding, outraged. Others looked like they might vomit at any moment.
It was a pretty easy litmus test of who the senator was blackmailing, really. I imagined the only thing more nauseating than an asshole blackmailing you was a mentally unstable asshole blackmailing you.
“Maybe we should call an ambulance? Is it possible he’s having a stroke?” Steele materialized at Harlan’s side. “Sir, can you lift your arms?”
“Lift my… I can lift my fucking arms, Mickey! You killed them! I saw you kill them. But they didn’t stay killed!”
Steele’s face hardened. “Sir, I’m not sure who you think I am, but my name is Master Sergeant Alvarez, U.S. Army. I’m a decorated veteran who served two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. You hired me to work security for the party tonight. Does… does any of this ring a bell?”
I almost giggled. It had been my idea to have Steele mention his service. He’d fucking hated the idea of referring to himself as a decorated veteran. But Carson had backed me up, and Leo had backed him up, and sure enough, we’d all been right. The crowd adored a hero, and Steele truly was one.
“Fuck you! You’re… you’re Mickey Gonzalez!” the senator insisted.
Steele shook his head like a sad puppy. “Does every person of Hispanic descent look the same to you, sir?”
“Senator, honestly,” poor Ms. Guinn begged, nearly stumbling under Harlan’s weight. “You really need to sit down. You’re not well!”
“I’m calling 9-1-1 right now,” a voice that sounded suspiciously like Danny’s offered. “Better safe than sorry!”
“Do you know if he’s taken any illegal drugs?” Steele asked Ms. Guinn anxiously, seeming to lower his voice without lowering it at all. “The paramedics will need to know if he has any narcotics in his system.”
Ms. Guinn twisted her hands in worry. “I mean, from time to time he does. I… I honestly don’t know if he’s on anything right now!”
“But it’s possible,” Steele confirmed, his voice low and commanding.
Ms. Guinn nodded, and the crowd erupted into whispers again.
“I’m not high. I’m fucking pissed. And no one is calling anyone. You hear?” The senator knocked into his secretary, sending her sprawling into Steele’s arms. “You’re a traitor, Mickey. You and Ben Waters! And no one betrays John Harlan.”
“Sir, I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Steele said sadly.
“Nor do I,” Carson said. His outrage was on-point, as always.
“We’ll see about that,” Harlan said. “We’ll just see.” He ran a hand over his mouth and pointed to a random man in the crowd. “You there! Jenny! Go get the tape from last week.”
“Oh, dear God,” the real Jenny Guinn said. She was still standing in the curve of Steele’s arm like she was really comfy there.
I didn’t blame her. Much.
“Sir, you don’t want to do that,” she told Harlan. “You truly don’t.”
“You remember what I can do to your sister, you little whore! Now go!” Harlan roared.
“Alright, Senator Harlan, I’ve seen about enough,” Leo said. “I’m not going to stand idly by while you insult women and make all kinds of outrageous claims.”
“You’re nothing but a disgraced FBI agent whose career went down the toilet when he got lost in a bottle.”
A man in the crowd came forward. “Harlan,” he said urgently. “Don’t you know who that is?”
Harlan’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“That’s Agent Leonard Shook,” he said pointedly. “We received a memo about his commendation weeks ago, remember? He’s the one who…” He stepped closer and whispered in the senator’s ear.
The senator stared at Leo, and his eyes widened. “Not. Possible.”
Seriously? It was like someone changing the channel the second before the murderer was revealed. Except with no rewind.
“What the fuck did you do, Leo?” I demanded. Obviously, Leo ignored me.
“Why are we standing here and listening to this?” Steele demanded, once again taking control of the situation. “The senator’s obviously disturbed, either as a result of the illegal drugs he might have taken or from some other recent traumatic incident that triggered a mental breakdown.”
