“Is the Holiday Inn okay?” Kilmer asked as he turned the car and drove back onto the road.
“Yes, it doesn’t matter.”
“You could stay at my place,” Robert said.
Grace shook her head. “Thanks, maybe later.” She leaned back in the seat. “Not tonight.”
“You’re afraid my apartment might not be—” He looked at Frankie. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll check in next door.”
“I’ll take care of it, Blockman,” Kilmer said.
Robert shook his head. “You don’t stay anywhere near her. Not until I do some checking with Washington.”
Kilmer shrugged and didn’t pursue it.
But he wouldn’t let Robert stop him from doing anything he wanted to do, Grace knew. He would just go around the corner of the obstacle and slip in another way. Kilmer was relentless.
“It’s okay, Grace.” Kilmer was gazing at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m not going to make trouble for you.”
“You bet you’re not.” Her arm tightened around Frankie. “I have only one thing to ask right now. Is Frankie in any immediate danger?”
He shook his head. “We have a few days.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. If Kilmer said it was safe, it was safe. “Good. But you’re not going anywhere until I talk to you.”
He nodded. “Agreed.” He looked at Frankie. “After you get her through this.”
Yes, after she got her through this horror of a night she would deal with him.
Kilmer’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he watched Blockman usher Grace and Frankie into the lobby of the motel.
Christ, he wanted to go with them.
It didn’t matter what he wanted. It would be the worst possible move to crowd Grace now when she was in the throes of grief and anxiety. Let her come to terms with Charlie’s death before he piled more stress on her.
He dialed Donavan’s number. “Any news?”
“Other than Marvot’s people buzzing around like hornets ready to sting? No. How is it there?”
“Shit. But Grace and Frankie are still okay.” He paused. “Kersoff’s boys found her. They work strictly on the bounty, so I figure I have a day or two before someone else comes after her. But they will come. There has to be a leak.”
“You told me that the Company buried her records.”
“If there are enough people looking, then the chance of an information buy goes up astronomically.” He paused. “I have to get her out of here. It’s not going to be easy.”
“I’d think she’d want to get out.”
“Not with me. Never with me. But I can’t give her a choice if she won’t see reason.”
“Grace is smart. She’s not going to risk that little girl.”
“But which way will she choose to save her?” Kilmer stared at the entrance through which Grace had disappeared. “In her eyes, behind every door there’s a tiger. And I’m the tiger who savaged her before. Keep me posted.” He hung up the phone. He should check in and get a few hours’ sleep. Blockman was with her and they should be safe. Blockman impressed him as being efficient, and he clearly cared for Grace and Frankie.
Screw it. He’d stay here and keep watch. He made a habit of trusting only his own people, and Blockman was a Company man. He could pull in Cam Dillon, the only one of his men he’d brought to town, but he’d planned on sending him to the farm to keep an eye on things there. The Company would probably rush in a crew to clean up things, but, if not, Dillon would take care of it.
No, he’d stay here himself and make sure Grace and Frankie stayed safe.
It was about time he stepped up to the plate, he thought grimly.
Grace quietly swung the adjoining door almost shut, but left it cracked so that she could hear Frankie if she stirred.
“Is she asleep?” Robert asked.
She nodded wearily. “I thought it would take longer. She probably went to sleep because she couldn’t stand being awake. Escape. You were limping. Is your leg all right?”
He nodded. “I twisted it when I was trying to get Charlie out of the truck.”
She flinched. “What did you do about him? Did you call the sheriff?”
“No, I had some of our boys come down from Birmingham to take care of him, along with the bodies you and Kilmer left at the farm. The site’s probably clean as a whistle now. Washington thought it best.”
“I don’t care what happens to the bodies of those other bastards. Probably one of them killed Charlie. But I do care about Charlie’s remains. Why did they include Charlie in the cleanup? Because they don’t want anyone to know he was murdered? Erase and cover?” Her hands clenched. “Charlie’s not just going to disappear. He lived his whole life in this community. He had friends here. He would have liked to have them say good-bye.”
“Hold it, he’s not just going to disappear. He’ll be listed as drowned in the river, and the CIA will provide suitable witnesses to state they saw the body—without the bullet wound. After that, we’ll move quickly to obey the instructions in Charlie’s will. He wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread over the hills on his property. We’ll just do what he asked and then have a memorial service.”
“How convenient for the CIA. How do you know he wanted to be cremated?”
“For God’s sake, Grace. I liked that old guy. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“How do you know what was in his will?” she asked again.
“Because I was a witness when he changed it three years ago,” Robert said gruffly. “He trusted me, even if you don’t. Do you want to call his lawyer?”
Robert was obviously hurt, and for the first time she remembered that Charlie had been Robert’s friend too. She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. But you work for the Company, and they’ve been known to arrange matters to suit themselves.”
“Not this time. Anyway, he asked me to take care of his arrangements and make it easy for you and Frankie.”
“You can’t do that.” The tears were stinging her eyes again. “They killed him, Robert. He wasn’t involved in this at all. He was in the way and they killed him. That’s no reason for a man to die.”
“No, it’s not.” He paused. “What are you going to do now, Grace?”
“I don’t know. It’s too soon. I always made plans for different scenarios, but I never planned on this happening to Charlie. Or maybe I blocked it out because I couldn’t bear thinking I’d be responsible for him dying.”
“You’re not responsible.”
“The hell I’m not.”
“Because he owned the farm you worked at? You couldn’t live in a vacuum. Your life had to touch someone. And in this case it touched and enriched Charlie more than you knew. These last years were probably the best ones of his life.”
She shook her head.
“Grace. I know what I’m talking about.” He paused. “He left the horse farm to Frankie and appointed you as guardian.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“He loved that little girl. He loved you. He didn’t have any close family, but he thought of you as that family.”
“Oh, shit.” The tears that had brimmed were running down her cheeks. “We loved him too, Robert. What the hell are we going to do without him?”
“What you always tell Frankie after a fall. Get up and get back on the horse.” He smiled faintly. “And when you’re more yourself, you’re going to hate me telling you something you know anyway.”
She shook her head. “My head’s messed up right now. I’m grateful for any help I can get.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
She tried to think. “Have a rental car waiting for me tomorrow morning. I left my car at the farm.”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Just get me the car.” She smiled without mirth. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to run right now. Kilmer said I had a little time.”
“Good.” He didn’t speak for a minute. “Because
when I called Washington, Les North told me he’s bringing his superior, Bill Crane, down here to talk to you.” He glanced at his wrist. “It’s three-forty A.M. now. He should be here by noon.”
“No.”
“You can tell him that. I don’t have anything to say about it. I’m very low on the totem pole.”
“Let him talk to Kilmer.”
“I’m sure they’re very eager to do that. North perked up when I mentioned Kilmer’s name. Would you care to tell me how he’s involved in this? I’m really tired of acting as bodyguard without knowing who I’m guarding you against. This ‘need to know’ basis is bull.”
She rubbed her temple. “Not now.”
“But you don’t feel threatened by Kilmer?”
She did feel threatened. The moment she had seen him again, every instinct had started vibrating like a fire alarm. “No, I’m not afraid of him.” It wasn’t exactly what Robert had asked but it was all she would allow herself to admit. “Where is he?”
He shrugged. “After he dropped us at the lobby, I guess he took off.” He paused. “When I told North that Kilmer had taken out those three bastards at the farm, he said he wasn’t surprised. Is Kilmer really that good, Grace?”
“Yes.” She turned and gently opened the adjoining door. “He’s very, very good. Good night, Robert.”
A moment later Grace was staring down at Frankie. Still sleeping, thank heaven. Her face was swollen from weeping and her tousled curls were a silky mop on the pillow. She had been too exhausted and broken to ask questions when Grace was putting her to bed, but they would come when she woke.
And Grace had to be ready for them.
She sat down in the chair by the bed. She wasn’t ready. But then, she’d never be ready. She had to decide what facts to tell and what to leave for another time when Frankie was more able to accept them.
It was going to be a long night.
We’ll have to get a rental car from here. I’ve already had it taken care of,” Les North told Crane as they strode through the airport terminal in Birmingham. “Tallanville has no air service. It’s just a small Southern town, a dot on the map. That’s why we steered Grace Archer there eight years ago.”
“Well, evidently someone found that dot,” Crane said grimly. “Why wasn’t I informed of this situation?”
“After Congress tied his hands, your predecessor, Jim Foster, was hoping it would just go away. Marvot had a few senators in his pocket and he’d manipulated several lobbyists to persuade more members of the House to come down on us like a ton of bricks,” North said as they exited the terminal and headed for the rental-car parking lot. “Foster wasn’t much for initiative.” He added with no expression, “I’m sure you would never have let it slide.”
“You’re damn right I wouldn’t. I would have pushed ahead and brought everything out into the open. They love to blame the agency for their own waffling. That’s the only way to keep our butts from getting spanked by those politicians.” He got into the passenger seat of the Buick North indicated. “I’m a firm believer in Murphy’s Law. Something was bound to happen if the situation wasn’t resolved.” He opened his briefcase and pulled out the dossier he’d had his assistant dredge out of the files. “Archer should have been forced to work with us and not allowed to opt out.”
“That’s easy to say. And how were we supposed to do that?”
“Threaten to take away her protection.”
“And lose any hope of having her assistance. She’d already lost a hell of a lot and was pretty bitter.”
“It’s astonishing how bitterness can fade away when you put their life on the line.”
What a son of a bitch, North thought. “Do I have to remind you that she was working with us, Crane?”
“According to her dossier there was some doubt about that. Her father was a double agent and she worked hand in glove with him.” He was scanning the dossier. “Born in Los Angeles, California, to Jean Dankel and Martin Stiller. Mother died when she was three, and her father pulled up roots and went to Europe and took the child with him. He moved in and out of several criminal enterprises and got his hands very dirty indeed. He traveled around Europe and Africa doing gunrunning and whatever other scam he could promote.” He shook his head. “He took the kid with him wherever he went, and it’s a wonder she lived to grow up. At one point they were in Rwanda and she was shot by the rebels and left for dead. The Red Cross worker who found her tried to take her away from her father, but Grace refused and ran away when she got the chance.”
North nodded. “Martin Stiller was a complete charmer and he evidently loved her and was good to her.” He added sarcastically, “Not good enough to give her up and send her to live with her maternal grandfather in Melbourne, Australia. She spent her summers with him on his horse farm, but every fall Stiller was there, picking her up and taking her back to whatever hellhole he was living in at the time.”
“And how did he come to our attention?”
“He came to us and peddled us some information about Hussein. It turned out to be legitimate and we used him for the next few years. We suspected he was double-dealing but we couldn’t prove it. So we were just careful what information we gave him.”
“And the woman?”
“She wasn’t much more than a kid at the time. Agent Rader was the contact with Martin Stiller, and he said Stiller’s daughter was a pleasant enough kid. She took correspondence courses and was bright enough to be accepted at the Sorbonne.”
Crane was still scanning the dossier. “No criminal background on her. We accepted her for agent training when she was twenty-three years old.” He glanced up. “With a background like that, why the hell was she hired?”
“We justified it on a special-case basis. She spoke eight languages fluently, she was bright, psychologically sound, and seemed genuinely patriotic. She also had one valuable qualification we needed at the time. She was amazingly good with horses from the years spent with her grandfather. We needed her for one specific job and we figured we could get rid of her later if she didn’t work out.” He paused. “She did work out. Her marks on the initial training were some of the highest ever posted. But we needed to mature her fast for this job. So we sent her to Kilmer.”
“My assistant couldn’t find a dossier on this Kilmer.” He frowned. “But I found one of the old fogies in the office who’d heard of him. He was very vague.”
Old fogy? Jesus, North was only fifty and had just a few gray hairs. But he was also probably an old fogy to Crane, who was in his thirties and sleek and tanned as a tennis pro. He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. “Kilmer was a very valuable asset to the CIA, and everything he did was top secret. Some of his missions would have been considered questionable to the administration, and Foster decided that if there was no record of him, there’d be no leaks. The people who needed to know knew who he was and how he could be contacted.”
“That’s absurd. Foster must have been an idiot. It’s no wonder the agency was in such chaos before the shake-up. Operating like that could cause mass confusion.”
“Oh, I believe we managed to keep confusion to a minimum.” He added, “And Kilmer didn’t end up dead in the water.”
“Who is this Kilmer? The agent who knew about him spoke of him as if he was some freakin’ legend.”
“A legend?” North repeated as he drove out of the parking lot. “Yeah, I guess that’s as good a description as any.”
“Legends are fairy tales. Talk to me.”
He shrugged. “I’ll tell you what I know. He was born in Munich, Germany. His father was a colonel in the U.S. Army; his mother was a translator. His parents were divorced when he was ten, and his father got custody. He believed in the iron hand and raised Kilmer in that school. He went to West Point and did well but quit when he was in his third year. He was a brilliant strategist and his teachers were sorry to see him go. He batted around the world for a while and invariably ended up in a guerrilla unit of some sort wherever h
e was. He finally formed his own military unit and hired himself out for special jobs. He earned a fine reputation. Years after he formed his team we hired him for a number of tricky missions and found him invaluable.”
“Until the Marvot job.”
North nodded. “Until the Marvot job.”
Wake up, baby.” Grace shook Frankie gently. “It’s time to get stirring.”
“It’s too early,” Frankie said drowsily. “Ten more minutes, Mom. I’ll do my—” Her lids flew open. “Charlie!” Her eyes filled with tears. “Charlie . . .”
Grace nodded. “It’s true. There’s nothing either one of us can do to change it.” She wiped her own eyes. “I wish there was. But we have to go on, Frankie.” She tossed the covers aside. “Go wash up and brush your teeth. There’s a change of clothes for you in my knapsack. We have to get going.”
Frankie gazed at her in bewilderment. “Where are we going?”
“Back to the farm. It’s almost ten now. We have livestock to feed and water. Charlie wouldn’t want them to suffer, would he?”
Frankie shook her head. “I forgot about them.”
“Charlie wouldn’t forget. We have to do what he would have wanted.” She brushed her lips across Frankie’s nose. “I know you want to ask questions, to talk, and we will. But there are chores to do first.”
Frankie nodded. “Chores. Darling.” She headed for the bathroom, and her movements held a hint of purpose. “I won’t be long, Mom.”
“I know you won’t. We’ll grab a muffin downstairs in the coffee shop and be on our way.”
The door slammed behind Frankie, and Grace drew a breath of relief. So far, so good. If she could keep Frankie busy, it wouldn’t heal the pain but it would keep her from remembering every single moment. It was the same remedy she should prescribe for herself. But there was no question that she was going to be busy. She was being sucked back into that horror she thought she’d escaped nine years ago. But she’d not really thought it was over. Why else had she prepared, packed the knapsack, scouted out those woods? She’d known it wasn’t finished.
On the Run Page 4
