Valley of Spies

by Keith Yocum

  Louise looked at her watch: it was 11:50 p.m.

  “I’m calling Simpson,” she said. “He needs to see this.”

  Louise pulled her agency phone out of her purse; it was inside a metallic bag. “What’s that for?” Judy asked, pointing to the bag.

  “Black-out bag. Locks it down. No tracking, no incoming or outgoing. I’ve been very careful since I suspected someone in the agency is behind this. I don’t want anyone to know where I am.”

  Louise dialed and waited.

  “Hello, is this Daria? This is Louise Nordland. I know it’s late but it’s important I speak to Phil. Yes, I can wait.”

  Louise walked slowly around the room with her head down looking at the floor waiting for Simpson.

  Judy was confused, but also elated. If Louise was being truthful, Dennis was innocent. There was no better outcome she could have wished for. But she also kept returning to the last sentence of his notes: what did Louise Nordland have to do with any of this? He was always suspicious of the diminutive woman—should Judy be careful of her as well? At this point, Louise was the only person in the world who could prove Dennis was not responsible for what happened in Las Vegas. Judy had not recorded their conversation, and the moment Louise walked out of the hotel room, she took the proof of Dennis’s innocence with her.

  “Phil, I know it’s late, but I’ve just stumbled on something about the Forrester disappearance that you need to know. Someone broke into Forrester’s house and stole her notes on her agency clients. And there’s something else about Cunningham that you need to know about. I think there’s someone inside who’s responsible. I have no idea who, but I think we should call off the Iranian project ASAP. I can explain everything in person.”

  Louise listened, while she toyed with the earring on her open ear.

  “Sure. It’s late, but I can do it. You’re not far. OK.”

  Louise hung up and looked at Judy.

  “I’m going over to Simpson’s house. He lives in McLean. It’s not far, especially this time of night. He’s going to shit a brick when he hears about the C24. What a clusterfuck. The only problem is that I have to see his wife, Daria. I can’t believe he lets her answer his agency phone at night. Weird couple.”

  “Huh? His wife?” Judy said.

  “Daria. She’s this six-foot, gorgeous, blond Ukrainian. Probably thirty years younger than him. Wears her hair in a pulled-back bun. We call her Broom-Hilda. No one’s ever seen her smile; not at last year’s Christmas party at his house or any other function. We think she’s a robot. He brought her back from an assignment in Ukraine like she was a toy or something.”

  “Louise, is there any chance you could write down a summary of what we just talked about? Just for my records?”

  “Sorry, can’t do that. You’re not authorized to know any of this, and I’d be in a shitload of trouble if they knew I told you. But don’t worry. We’ll get Dennis out of there, I promise. I just need to get Simpson involved. And guess what? Dennis’s report on Forrester’s disappearance—delivered through me—will only be a couple of days late.”

  “Um, are you sure you can’t just write down that C24 stuff for me?”

  “No! I can’t, Judy. But trust me. Dennis is safe now.”

  “Mmm,” Judy said.

  “I’ve got to pee,” Louise said. She cupped her hand over her mouth and breathed. “Do you have any mints? I don’t want Simpson to think I’m hammered.”

  “Yeah, you go pee, and I’ll dig them out.”

  “Thanks.” Louise went into the bathroom and shut the door; the bathroom fan came on automatically.

  Judy reached for the hotel phone and dialed the front desk.

  “Can you have my car brought up?” she said. “It’s 76554 on the stub. Yes. Fast please.”

  The toilette flushed and Louise came out.

  “Forget the mints, I just used a dab of your toothpaste. Hope you don’t mind. And hey, can you call for my car? Here’s the stub,” she said, reaching into her front jeans pocket.

  Judy called for Louise’s car.

  “We’ll be in touch,” Louise said. “Not to worry. We’ll get Dennis out of there, and we’ll nail Forrester’s killer at the same time. We’re finally getting somewhere.”

  Judy looked askance at her purse and her own valet stub and nonchalantly moved them together near the TV set. She walked Louise to the door.

  “Good luck, Louise. Please call me first thing tomorrow? I hate to sound nervous, but I am. I need to get Dennis out.”

  “Not to worry.” Louise bolted out the door, and Judy watched as she limped down the long hallway toward the elevators. Judy turned her head in the opposite direction and saw the emergency exit sign leading to the stairs. If she ran, she could get to her car and beat Louise out into the street. She had made up her mind to follow her. If Louise did not go to a private residence, and instead went somewhere else, Judy was going to do anything—including ramming her car—to force Louise to record details of Dennis’s drug-induced set up in Las Vegas.

  She rushed back in the room, grabbed her room key, parking stub, and purse, and flew out the door and toward the emergency exit stairwell. She bounded down several steps at a time, and almost tripped at one point. At the ground floor, she opened the heavy metal door that exited onto the side of the building. The door closed behind her, and she realized she didn’t know where the entrance was, but the door was locked when she tried to get back in.

  “Shit,” she said and ran down an alley to what she hoped would be the entrance. Peering around the corner, she was relieved to see the well-lit covered entrance. Her car was being pulled up and she ran to the valet driver, showed her stub and jumped in. She didn’t bother glancing into the lobby to see if Louise was there. If she was caught, so be it.

  Judy drove down the exit ramp and stopped. In her rearview mirror, she could see a blue BMW being brought around to the entrance. Judy spotted several parking spaces that were marked for hotel staff. She pulled into an open spot and turned off her lights but left the car running.

  In a flash, she saw the BMW race down the ramp with Louise behind the wheel. The BMW barely slowed as it entered the main street, then tore off to the right. Judy reversed, put her lights back on, and roared out onto the street and saw what she assumed was Louise’s taillights moving quickly away. She accelerated as fast as the rental car could go, but the taillights were receding quickly. A traffic light turned red in front of her, but Judy roared through it chasing those tiny, receding taillights.

  Then, just as quickly, she came up directly behind Louise’s car at another light. It turned green and Louise was off again. She did her best to remember some of her AFP lessons on tailing a car: keep an eye out for a unique physical characteristic of the car lights, remain two cars behind at the closest, no sudden, obvious attempts to keep up. Drive past the car when it parks, if possible.

  It was a struggle to keep up with Louise, but it was more challenging to remember to drive on the right-hand side of the street. At one point she slid momentarily across the dividing line into oncoming traffic. Finally, after twenty minutes on a busy road, Louise pulled into a neighborhood of large homes. Now, it was just the two of them on the street, and Judy stayed much farther behind; she could easily see Louise’s car in the distance.

  Suddenly, there were brake lights on Louise’s car, and then nothing. Judy kept driving past the BMW and saw Louise get out of her car and walk up the sidewalk to a large colonial-style brick house with an attached two-car garage. In her rearview mirror, she saw a tall woman open Simpson’s door.

  Must be Broom-Hilda, Judy thought.

  She drove down the block, turned, and drove past the house now on the left. Lights were on downstairs shining through thick curtains. Judy continued down the street, turned around, and returned toward what she presumed was Simpson’s house on the right. It was an upsca
le neighborhood with a wide street, and there were cars parked on the street. Judy parked two houses away from Louise’s parked car and turned off the car.

  What the hell should I do now? she thought. Louise did what she said she was going to do. This must be Simpson’s house. She looked at her watch. It was after midnight. Judy yawned. She looked around the neighborhood. Many of the houses had lights on, though some were already dark. She crossed her arms and yawned again. She closed her eyes, opened them, and closed them again.

  She opened her purse and pulled out her burner. She dialed and waited; it went to voicemail.

  “Hey, Ruby, this is Judy. I know this is going to sound crazy, but Dennis is off the hook. We have proof. I’ll call you when I’m heading back tomorrow to Vegas.”

  Judy hung up. She was giddy, nervous and exhausted. She closed her eyes again and realized she should get back to her hotel before she fell completely asleep. She felt hot inside the car and wound down the window. The soupy, warm summer air only made her groggier.

  Her burner rang.

  “Ruby here. What’s this about Dennis getting off? Defense lawyers don’t get these calls very often.”

  “The woman who retained you—Louise Nordland—she provided some extraordinary information today that will exonerate Dennis.”

  “Well, shit, tell me. What is it?”

  “I can’t. I think there are national security issues involved. But Louise swears she’ll get Dennis out as soon as possible.”

  “To be honest, that doesn’t excite me, Judy. I like facts and not promises. Do you believe this woman?”

  “Yes. Mostly.”

  “Mmm. OK, well I’ll have to wait for you to explain in person. You’d be glad to know I have some good news for you as well.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. It’s Dennis. He’s a different person. He’s come out of that funk or crazy state of mind he was in. He’s asking for you. He’s allowed to make calls from jail; he made one to his daughter today. It’s too late for a call now. But they’ll let him call tomorrow morning early. When are you flying back?”

  “There’s an early morning flight if I can get on it. I’ll text you. I can’t wait to talk to him. Thanks for your help, John.”

  “I haven’t done anything, Judy. Thank me when he’s out. By the way, you sound exhausted.”

  “I am. But it’s happy exhaustion.”

  “Get some rest. We’ll see you tomorrow, I hope. Bye.”

  Judy hung up and sighed. She could see Louise’s car parked about fifty yards ahead.

  She closed her eyes.

  Louise better come through on her promise, or I swear I’ll crush that little woman, she thought.

  The next sound she heard was the distant rumble of a garage door opening and a car starting up.

  “Shit,” Judy said under her breath.

  Her watch showed it was 2:13 a.m. She saw Louise’s car start up, and she saw a large black SUV backing out of the Simpson garage.

  Maybe Simpson and Louise are going to headquarters in Langley, Judy thought.

  The SUV stopped halfway down the driveway, and the driver got out; it was Simpson’s wife. She walked over to the BMW’s driver side window and said something, then stood up and scanned the neighborhood. The woman returned to the SUV and got in. The BMW pulled out slowly and the SUV backed out and followed behind.

  Judy felt a frisson of alarm. This did not seem right. She started her car and followed the two cars. There were few vehicles on the road, and Judy made sure to hang farther back. She ran through one stop light and two stop signs in order to keep up.

  After a series of turns, she found herself flying down a highway that appeared to be in a heavily forested area; tall black, leafy tree silhouettes bordered a grassy median. On her right, she could see down to a sparkling river in the distance and buildings on the opposite bank. Judy was so distracted by her surroundings that she didn’t realize the two cars had pulled into a small, empty rest area. It was too late to stop, so she drove past them.

  Nearly one hundred yards farther she pulled onto the shoulder and turned off the car. A taxi whooshed past her doing around sixty miles per hour.

  She got out of the car and jogged back toward the two parked cars, staying off the highway shoulder and running deeper through the grassy area and between trees.

  What the hell was Louise doing? she thought. I don’t trust that woman. Shit, what is going on?

  Judy stumbled over a tree root and fell flat on her face. She got to her feet and kept running, brushing grass and pieces of dirt off her face. Out of breath, she finally came to the deserted parking area with only the two cars next to each other. There was no sign of movement. The cars were turned off, and there were no interior lights on. Judy crept within fifty yards, hidden by shrubs and trees.

  Nothing happened for several minutes. Judy moved closer. She was thirty yards away when the interior lights of the BMW came on as the driver-side door opened and a man got out.

  The man went around and opened the passenger door. Judy tried to get closer for a better view but was obstructed by the branches of a bush. It looked like the man was carrying something, and then he closed the driver-side door and went around to the passenger side and went inside, closing the door. After several seconds, the interior lights went out, and there was nothing but the sounds of insects chirping, and the periodic whoosh of a lone car racing by.

  The sudden flash of light and muffled explosion jolted Judy.

  “What the—” she whispered to herself, pushing a branch aside to see the man get out of the passenger side and into the SUV that had started up. The SUV backed up, then drove by, briefly illuminating the area where Judy crouched behind a shrub. The SUV disappeared in a roar onto the highway.

  Her palms were wet as she watched the SUV’s taillights disappear. The insect kingdom slowly resumed its nightlife, and the scene took on a surreal quality as Judy walked toward the BMW. She whipped her head around for the return of the SUV, or any car for that matter.

  Ten feet away she saw Louise sitting in the driver’s seat, her head tilted to the side. She walked up to the windshield and strained to see what Louise was doing. Then she screamed. The top of Louise’s head was torn open and blood dripped down her perfect skin and onto her silk blouse. A pistol had fallen into her lap. The light from a street lamp glinted off one of Louise’s earrings.

  She ran as fast as her legs would move back to the rental car. She started the car and pulled out into the dark, empty highway and drove, her mind whirring in a maelstrom of troubling thoughts. She drove and drove, following a sign that led to a much larger highway. She kept driving.

  Simpson killed Louise; his wife helped.

  Judy estimated that she fell asleep in her car around 12:30 a.m. Almost two hours had passed when she woke. What happened in that house for two hours?

  The sight of the petite, aggressive, attractive Louise with the top of her head mangled was shocking. Judy was numb as she whisked down the huge American highway with only tractor trailers for companionship in the early morning. She was scared, tired, and lonely. Should she go back to her room at the Hyatt? Judy worried now that the forces that conspired to put Dennis in prison and kill Louise were poised to harm her.

  Or was that just the terror of a traumatized, confused woman? If Simpson killed Louise, why would he want to kill Judy? Did Simpson and his wife coerce information from Louise that identified Judy as a co-conspirator? And there was the jaw-dropping fact that the only person capable of getting Dennis out of his predicament was now dead.

  After a while, with the initial adrenaline rush over, fatigue began to drain Judy. She started to slow down and drift in her lane as if she was drunk. A street sign showed lodging available at a place called Gaithersburg. She took the exit and found a motel and checked in. The man at the front desk said almost nothing to Judy
, except where to park and how to get to her room.

  She drove around to the side of the motel, found her room, took a paranoid look around the parking lot, then ran into the room and locked herself in. The clock radio showed it was 4:11 a.m. She kicked off her shoes, slid out of her shirt and brown slacks, turned off her phone to save battery life, and jumped under the covers.

  Judy assumed she would fall asleep immediately, but it didn’t happen that way. She kept looking at the motel room door with the safety chain hooked up, expecting someone to break in. And she thought about Louise, with the top of her head torn open. And Dennis; poor, incarcerated Dennis, sitting in a jail cell without a clue to what happened.

  Chapter 16

  She bolted out of bed in a panic, stumbling because the bedsheet was twisted around her legs. Daylight streamed in around the curtains. A car had roared to life outside the door, waking her out of a deep, troubling sleep.

  Judy sat on the end of her bed to gather herself. She unwrapped the small bar of soap in the bathroom and washed her face. She ran her fingers through her hair to tease some life into it, then put her clothes and shoes back on.

  She pulled into a nearby McDonald’s and bought a breakfast sandwich, an orange juice, and a large coffee. Judy remembered her phone was off, so she turned it on and noticed she had thirty-two percent of her battery life remaining. She figured that would be enough for her to get back to the hotel using Google maps. The daylight gave Judy some courage that had been missing in the early hours. She would return to her hotel regardless of her fear of being hunted.

  Her phone rang.

  “How you doing?” Ruby said.

  “Not good.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know where to start, or even if I want to start.”

  “Yesterday you were giddy.”

  “Louise is dead.”