by D D Loomis
I shook my head while watching them file out of the room. Their obvious relief was discomforting. Damn, I hadn’t been that bad, had I?
Alan, the assistant I’d been given for the class, finished straightening the chairs and brought leftover handouts to me. “Here you go, Mister Baker. Sorry about the bunch of zombies for your last class with us. Not your fault, though.” He made another ineffective swipe at his bangs.
“Thanks, Alan.” I took the stack of papers and slipped them in my briefcase. “Guess I’d be ticked if I had to give up one of my days off to attend a class.”
Alan shrugged. “In this case, they were extra ticked. They’d just had a similar class over the internet two months ago.” He chuckled at my disgusted look. “Yeah, bureaucracy strikes again. That’s what happens when two different people do scheduling for our yearly training. At least it was only one class that got screwed up.”
“Just my luck it was this one.” I smiled at his look of discomfort. “Don’t worry about it. I got paid pretty well. Can’t complain too much.” I glanced around the room. “On a lighter note, the room’s nice. Don’t think I’ve had a class with furniture and carpet this plush.” The padded chairs looked like solid oak, and the carpet felt exquisite.
“Smartest move the bank’s made,” he said. “The entire third floor was renovated so that all the conference rooms are like this. Doubled their usage since they did it.” He shook my hand. “Been good working with you, Mister Baker. Don’t worry about cleaning up here, I’ll take care of it.”
“Appreciate it, man. All right if I leave my briefcase here for a second? Gotta visit the men’s room before I take off.”
“No problem. I’ll be a few more minutes.”
I was still in a funk when I washed my hands. After putting on training where the applause was deafening, it was a real let-down to have the last class be a dud, even if it wasn’t my fault.
Loud voices from the room next door brought my head up. Sudden thuds and bangings were punctuated by screams. Before my brain caught up with me, I was slamming through the door into the women’s room. Three men swung around from a middle-aged woman who collapsed to the floor. The left one reached for a gun. I piled into him before he could bring it to bear. His pistol skittered away when he crashed into the wall, breath whooshing out of him. I spun towards the second man, catching him with a kick to the chest as he moved in. He flew backwards, head smashing into the sink with a loud Crack.
By the time I finished my turn the third guy was scurrying out the door after delivering a vicious kick to the head of the woman. I knelt by her, giving a quick scan of her injuries. Head swollen and leaking blood, plus holding her right side. “You all right, Ma’am?”
Her unfocused eyes slowly turned towards me. “Who…”
“I’m Francis. I heard the racket and came quick as I could.” On closer examination, the head injury looked worse than I’d thought. “Don’t move, I’ll get some help.”
Her eyes sharpened, recognition dawning in them. “You–I’ve seen you with Hilyard.”
Surprise robbed words from my mouth. What the…
She lurched forward, grabbing the front of my shirt. “Tell the FBI—tell them–Lenny’s in trouble.” Her eyes closed and she sagged to the floor, unconscious.
I gently pried her hands loose from my shirt. Well, hell. What had I gotten into now?
* * *
I gave a long look around Hilyard’s office and whistled admiringly. “Pretty fancy for a lowly agent.”
He chuckled and sat behind his desk. “Thanks. Only problem is, they don’t let me spend much time here.”
“By the way, I appreciate your helping me escape from the city cops. Their questions were getting monotonous.”
“You’re welcome. When they were on their third cycle through the same stuff, my boss and I thought it was time to drag you away and ask some of our own.”
I slumped in my chair, emitting a groan. “Damn. And here I thought you liked me.”
“Heh. Since when did an FBI agent like anyone?” He leaned his elbows on the desktop. “We’ve only got a few, but wanted to ask them in private. Soon as Ernie–Supervisory Special Agent Finley–gets here, we can get started. You want any water or coffee?”
I shook my head just as Finley walked in, bald head glistening. Wonder how long he spent polishing it each morning?
“Mister Baker, sorry to drag you over here, but we had a couple more questions. Hope you don’t mind.” He perched on the edge of Hilyard’s desk, an earnest expression on his face. “Want to thank you again for what you did for our agent. Those perps would’ve killed her if you hadn’t interrupted them.”
“My pleasure,” I said, shifting around to face him. “Any word on how she’s doing?”
“Right now she’s in a medically induced coma. Looks as if they’ll have to operate to relieve pressure that’s building up on her brain,” Hilyard said.
Finley held up a hand. “And before you ask, the man you dented the wall with was able to get away while you were busy with our agent.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How about the other one, the guy in the hospital?”
“Fractured skull but he’ll probably survive,” Finley said. “His identity helped clear up some of our more pressing questions, though. He works for a man named Franks, William Franks. You ever heard of him?”
The way he leaned forward when asking the name brought me to full alert. “No, can’t say I have. Who is he?”
“A small fish in a big pond trying to move up the ladder,” Hilyard said. “We’ve been trying to catch him for some time. Been too tricky so far.”
A light dawned. “Ah. So you had Lenny working undercover to dig up stuff on him.”
Momentary surprise crossed their faces.
Finley leaned forward, the earnest look back on his face. “Mister Baker, we’d rather you not delve too deeply into that particular matter.”
Time to tread lightly. I put a serious expression on my face. “No problem, Mister Finley. Any other questions?”
Ten minutes later I was at the front of the building, shaking Hilyard’s hand. “Sorry about upsetting your boss. Make sure and tell him I won’t pass on anything we talked about today.”
Hilyard grinned. “Hell, he’s more upset someone smarter than him was in the room. Kinda touchy that way.”
I shrugged. “In two more days, I’ll be out of your hair and on my way to the writer’s retreat up by Little Switzerland. Probably the last you’ll see of me.”
Mike smiled. “Doubt that. You seem to be a magnet for trouble, Francis. And if you remember anything else, give me a call.”
I lifted a hand in farewell and trotted down the steps of the Federal Building. Nice guy. Hard to believe he was an FBI agent.
* * *
Bernard Monroe dropped a file in front of me. “Mister Baker, this is a stack of letters several of our employees wrote, praising the quality of your presentations over the past two weeks. We’ve never had this positive a response before.”
I placed a hand on the file, warmth filling me. Wow. Nice. And having the number two man in the Carolina State Bank acknowledge them was especially gratifying. “Thanks, Mister Monroe. It was a pleasure putting on the classes.”
He leaned back, a smile on his lean face. “Would you happen to be available next year about this time frame? Instead of just fifteen banks, we’d like to have all our personnel throughout the state take part, over a three week period. Interested?”
I straightened, eyes widening. Wow, this was the big time. “Uh, well, I’m sure we could come to an agreement…”
His eyes glinted. “Twice as much for the next contract, and we’ll pay federal per diem for meals, plus hotel and rental car costs this time.”
Jesus. I leaned forward, trying to look relaxed as he was. “Agreed. Now as far as the tim
e frame…”
Fifteen minutes later Monroe stood, a satisfied expression on his face. “Thank you, Mister Baker. I think we both have a very good deal here. My people will be in touch to work out the paperwork. Until then, have a safe trip back home.”
I shook his outstretched hand, trying not to squeeze it too hard in my excitement. Damn, wait’ll I told ‘em back at the office.
I walked down the five flights of stairs rather than take the elevator. Too excited to stand around on an elevator at the moment. A couple fist pumps were in order, though, when I went through the revolving doors at the front of the bank.
A familiar face stared at me from a car across the street, bringing me back to earth with a crash. Reddish hair, big chin—yeah, that was one of the dudes from the restroom. He was in a dark blue four door Caddy, with two others in the car. I turned right, picking up my pace towards the parking garage a block away. When I looked over my shoulder they were pulling out into traffic. I lengthened my stride.
* * *
After an hour of winding my way through heavy traffic I loosened up, feeling I’d lost them. Now my first order of business, get a bigger vehicle. A quick trip to the airport and I turned in the Focus, trading it for an Escape. I was pleasantly surprised at the lease rate for three weeks. Only a bit more than the Focus would’ve been. Its gray color tended to blend in, too. I headed for my hotel, still on the lookout but calmer.
Once in my room, I called my office back in Seattle.
“T & M Security, may I help you?”
I smiled, fully relaxing for the first time in hours. “Alice, I hear you want to dump that worthless husband of yours. Ready to run away with me?”
She guffawed, almost breaking my ear drum. “Francis, you sonofabitch! We was just talking about you. How’s it going back there?”
“Heh. Not bad, dearie. Got an offer to do their security training next year, this time for all their banks and at twice what they paid me this time.”
Good for you. ‘Bout time you hit it big with your training. I always said…”
I waved my hand as I cut her off. “Alice, sorry to interrupt, but a problem has come up.” I proceeded to fill her in on what had happened, including my concerns about being followed.
“My God! Why didn’t you tell us yesterday you got some crooks chasing you?”
“Mea culpa, dear. Didn’t really know they were interested in me till today. I suspect they would like to get even for what I did to them. Anyway, just wanted to let you know I’m leaving here today rather than tomorrow. I’ll touch base with you once I get in a motel tonight.”
“Well–stay safe, Francis. Tony’s out of town, but my hubby’s still here. I’ll make sure he’s available.”
“Thanks. Talk to you then.” I hung up and immediately turned to the chore of packing.
Once on the road towards western North Carolina, I had a belated thought. Should I weapon up? All my toys were packed. Might be a good idea. Maybe when I stopped for coffee at Lincolnton.
It was verging on five PM when I rolled into the Comfort Inn just east of Marion. Within minutes I was in a second floor room and unpacking. I’d kept an eagle eye out for anyone that might be following, but no one seemed so inclined.
The clothes with blood on them from yesterday’s adventure were in a plastic sack I’d brought with me for some reason. Should’ve thrown them away back in Charlotte. A quick check of the pockets and I’d...I felt the outline of something in my jacket pocket, and extracted a pink flash drive. What in the hell–where’d I come up with this? I set up my computer and plugged in the drive.
The heading on the first page brought me to full alert: “Files from Willie Franks computer.” I remembered how Lenny had pawed at me with one hand, while grabbing my shirt with the other. A classic pickpocket move. But in this case, she’d left something rather than take it. I clicked on the first file, and began avidly reading.
Twenty minutes passed before I could finally break free of some very interesting material. Three files dealt with various accounts in offshore banks. Another file was a log she’d kept about her undercover activities. She thought there was five million dollars in all of the accounts, but wasn’t sure. More details were included about what Franks and his cohorts had been up to.
The final two files were encrypted, just waiting for someone to tap in. Files like this drove me crazy, since my imagination supplied all kinds of things that might be in them, ripe for the plucking. I stood and began pacing, deep in thought. Finally, I snagged my phone and called the office.
T & M Security—oh, hi, Francis. Marty’s right here.”
His deep and booming voice came on the line. “Hey, guy, what kinda trouble you get into this time?”
I gave a snort of laughter. “What makes you think I’m in trouble?”
“The only other thing it could be is a woman, an’ that’s just another kinda trouble when you’re involved.”
I sat in front of my computer, and began tapping keys. “Yeah, you’re right. This time I got drawn in when some bad guys were roughing up a woman. Turns out she was an undercover FBI lady, who dug up some dirt on a local hood named William “Willie” Franks. The lady slipped a flash drive in one of my pockets, and I just discovered it. I’m sending all the information on it to Alice now. Could you do some background on Willie? I’ll get whatever information you dig up next time I call.”
I finished loading the last of the files, and hit the “send” button. “Looks like some money’s involved. You’ll need to get Charlie to see about separating any funds we can get from this data. Also, he might be able to decipher two encrypted files I included. Tell him I’ll pay twice his going rate on this one, if he’ll get right on it.”
“I’ll call him tonight. How’s everything else goin’?”
“No other surprises,” I said, leaning back. “Think I’m out of the picture on what happened in Charlotte. I’m planning to go ahead and attend the writing workshop, unless things change drastically. Once I get established up there, I’ll call and see what you guys came up with on those files.”
I switched the phone to my other hand. “On another subject, how’s our little lady doing? Let’s see, she’s-what-five months along now?”
Marty’s chuckle reverberated through the phone. “I convinced her that baby bump is the sexiest part of her body, so she’s been showin’ it off to ever’body.”
“Ha! Sounds like things are normal, then. You guys take it easy, and I’ll call in a day or two.”
After finishing the call, I went out on the deck and leaned on the railing. Had I forgotten anything? Probably. Talking to Marty had helped ease my forebodings. At well over six feet and 250 pounds of solid muscle, he tended to make anyone feel safe. Long as he was your friend. He and Tony had been my best friends for several years now. Saving each other’s hide while in the Army on special missions tended to make us like brothers. I stretched, and started back inside. Whatever that information was, it could wait until tomorrow. Now I needed a good night’s sleep.
* * *
A few minutes before one p.m. the next day, I pulled into a large parking lot on top of a tree-covered ridge. In the distance two more ridge lines were visible, a gorgeous view. Puffy clouds drifted by, making me ache for a camera. God, it was beautiful up here. I bounded from my SUV, energized by the crisp mountain air and sunlight filtering down through the abundance of trees.
Six buildings were strung out around the parking lot. The center one, the Lodge, was apparent by its double doors and central location among the other buildings. That and it was where two other folks were headed. Once through the front, I was greeted by a blonde in her early sixties.
“Welcome, dear. You must be one of the newbies, since I don’t recognize you.”
“Right. I’m Francis, Francis Baker.”
She took my hand in both of hers. “It’s so
good to have you with us for two weeks, Francis. I’m Jane Mellin, the coordinator for this workshop. Please call me Mom.”
“I’ll be glad to, Mom.” Damn, she reminded me of my aunt. Sweet as pie, but definitely in charge.
She patted my hand and picked up a large envelope. “Here’s your packet of information, and your room number is written on it. As we stated in the letter, the first seven days are for you to work on any project you want to. Second week is in a classroom. In your case, you’ll be working with nine other students on non-fiction writing skills.”
Once Mom was finished with me I carried my suitcase to the adjacent building, up a flight of stairs and to room 60, my home away from home for the next two weeks. Inside, a spartan room stared back at me. There were two twin beds, a long counter with a sink at one end and a built-in desk at the other. Closet with no door, a bathroom and shower. Not much else. Normally I’d share the room with another person who would arrive when the classroom phase started in a week. Since I’d paid for two slots, I had the room to myself. Hadn’t shared a room with a guy since boot camp days, and no desire to do so now.
After unpacking and storing everything I picked up a trail map from the lobby and set out to do a bit of exploring, tied in with a brisk jog. From the looks of the map I could take the Deer Lick Gap trail, and still be back here in time to clean up well before dinner. I set off down the trail at an easy trot.
Two hours later I drug my sorry butt into my room and collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. Whuff. I’d forgotten about the altitude difference. Hadn’t worked out at a 3,000 foot altitude in years. Some of the slopes had been steep, too. I peeled off my clothes, planning on a leisurely shower.
The door swung open and a nicely curved brunette, somewhere in her forties, was framed in the doorway, a startled expression on her face. “Oh! Sorry, didn’t know anyone was here yet. I’m across the hall, and we, um…” she ran down, eyes wandering while I kept walking towards the bathroom, still nude.
