by Ali Vali
“Our boss is a fair man, so we’ll see how things progress.”
“Yeah,” he said, letting the word die away.
“Is there something else?”
“Have you spoken to Tracy again?” Asking hurt more than a shot to the gut.
“She has not phoned me again. Is there a problem I should know about?”
“Nothing that concerns any of this. I’ll wait for your call so I can give you the money.” He disconnected, then dialed Mitch Surpass and left a message. “You and your boss can go fuck yourselves on the mountain of powder I was going to buy.”
He tried Tracy again, but just got constant ringing now. She was gone, and whatever debt he owed Kim was settled. He’d do this alone.
“So stay gone, you little bitch.”
*
The guy Wiley had been on the phone with walked in first, but he did little to hide the stunningly beautiful woman following a few steps behind him. If this was who Roth had on his mind while he rotted in prison, it wasn’t the hum of the lights and the guards’ batons driving him insane. Wiley stood and pointed to the table located behind a screen.
“You’ve seen him?” asked the blonde Wiley assumed was Amber Willows.
“I did.” She turned her glass with her thumb and index finger. “Considering where he is, he looks okay. He talked as much as he could about you without causing you a problem.”
“What’s your name?” the woman asked.
“The best thing for both of us is to talk, then walk out of here knowing we aren’t going to become coffee buddies or pen pals.” She briefly took her eyes off Amber to make sure her friend was okay and that no one was overly interested in their conversation. “Roth wanted you to share something with me. That’s all we have to talk about.”
Wiley tensed when Amber reached for her purse and stuck her hand inside. The thick white envelope she retrieved stayed in her hand, so Wiley placed hers on her thighs to not present a threat.
“Roth knew it’d take more than talk for someone to believe what the assholes who helped bring him down promised him. The first of those lies was he’d never be in jail for any reason.” She opened the flap and took out a sheet of paper. The letter, signed by Walter, basically said just that. “Everyone thought Roth was just a killer, but he’s smart. He wrote it all down.”
“What’s your connection to him?”
Amber placed the envelope on the table and covered it with her hands. “I thought you didn’t want to be friends?”
“If this is real,” she handed the letter back, “I’ll be happy to give it to the right people. To know it’s real I need to know your connection to Roth and why he’d trust you with whatever else is in there.”
“We were together for a year, then two months ago he got me out of the Baja and told me to come here. He has a place in the city.” She closed her eyes, obviously upset having to talk about this. “We came once after we’d hooked up. It’s safe and I have to stay until I hear from him.”
“What happens if he gets killed?” Wiley took a sip of the watered-down soda. “I don’t mean to be abrupt, but it’s a real possibility.”
“We have an out. Anything scares us and we walk.” Amber placed her hand over mystery man’s. “I’m staying because I owe it to Roth to try to help him.”
“You don’t have anything to fear from me unless you come after me or my family. I will, though, need to see this.” She tapped the envelope slowly.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Amber pushed it away. “I’m free now.”
“There was a man watching the circle today, and while I know who you are,” she said to the guy with Amber, “he did too. Perhaps you’ve been safe and laid low, but someone knows you’re here.”
“Did you see this guy’s face?” Amber asked.
“He has a scar from here to here,” she said, running her finger along her cheek.
Both Amber and her companion stood at her description. “Are you sure?” Amber asked, and she nodded. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
At the door the man hesitated and held up her phone, making her nod again. Whoever these two were and how they fit wouldn’t be completely out of her reach if mystery guy kept the phone she’d given him. The secrets to unraveling what Walter was up to probably lay in Mexico, but she didn’t want to fly south of the U.S. border unless she was on vacation or under order of the president. She didn’t see either of those options in her future.
Chapter Eighteen
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?” Emray Gillis asked Mitch as they sat in the kitchen of Emray’s house. The mound of coke was gone, replaced by kilo and dime bags.
“We sat on the guy you told us to watch. I used only Freddie and two other of our most trusted guys. No one’s come close to this guy for two weeks, so when he got on the phone, Freddie went to check it out. The next thing we knew, some asshole shot his engine out.”
“What’s that mean?”
“There’s a big fucking hole in the hood, and whatever bullet this douche bag used cracked the block.” Mitch waved his hands around like a crazed maniac, but Emray barely noticed him.
A bullet placed precisely enough to take out the car but not cause enough of an issue that the cops flocked to the area. “Where was that moron parked?”
“In front of Channel Six,” Mitch said.
Emray had to laugh. If you wanted to gamble and draw attention to yourself, taking the shot in front of a television news office was high stakes. “Did Freddie see anyone, or was he jerking off while he was supposed to be working?”
“You said to wait for the first guy who was out of place or acting weird. The guy he was watching was there every day so we thought he was a regular, until some homeless guy walked up and handed him a phone. When Freddie went to check it out, somebody took a potshot at him.”
Emray got up and yanked open one of the decrepit kitchen drawers, making Mitch jump. “I want you to sit on this house until I tell you otherwise,” he said as he wrote out the address. “Tell Freddie and the others to try not to talk to anyone and don’t get made. Someone else takes a shot at him and misses, I’ll finish the job. You understand me?”
“Yeah,” Mitch said. The tic above Mitch’s right eye that flared whenever he was nervous made him look like he was hooked to a live wire, and Emray wanted to keep it like that.
This wasn’t the time for any of them to relax.
*
Wiley sat at her desk in the dragon’s lair since she didn’t have a reason to hide it after her mother revealed every secret she had to her houseguests. The papers Amber had given her covered the wood surface, and from what she’d read, Roth had been a meticulous record keeper. If Walter had been as thorough, he’d have kept better control of his informant.
The picture that most interested her from the stack Amber included was shot at a different angle than the prize of Walter’s collection. It was the supposed terrorist, his shirt still on, motoring up to Roth’s boat. The man behind the wheel of the powerboat circled in red ink was Walter. That he’d been the one who’d delivered the sect member had slipped Walter’s mind when they’d first met.
Roth had also kept a journal, and his and Walter’s meetings were recorded almost verbatim, from what she could tell. From the beginning of their working relationship neither man trusted the other, but Roth had elevated his obsessive paranoia toward what Walter was capable of to a level that made Wiley wonder when he ever slept.
Obviously, not only had Walter delivered the Tajr member he had waved around as the reason Roth deserved to die, but he’d also been the driving force pushing Roth to do business with him. According to Roth, after an hour with the narcissistic asshole and Walter, he passed on what sounded like a lucrative relationship. Two weeks after Roth’s refusal, the local police had raided his compound loaded with piles of proof of all his crimes, then turned him over to the federales.
Wiley took notes as she tried to make connections that’d help her formulate a plan, and she covered t
he wall next to her in pictures and index cards detailing her thoughts. The monitor by the computer bank clicked on and she saw Don standing at the door with his pack. She collected all the information from the folders and stepped out, wanting to have the room locked before he made it upstairs.
“Your mom went down,” Aubrey said. Bowls of ingredients sat, cut and ready, on the island for whatever Aubrey was cooking.
“Tanith, could you put this in my office, please?” Wiley asked, making Tanith smile.
“Did you find anything?” Aubrey asked.
“Maybe,” she said, listening for the whirl of the elevator. “Did Maria work with anyone who visited her at home a lot? I need a starting point, so even a minor thing could help.”
“The only people she had over were her employees from the bar. She spent so much time there I can’t believe she had the opportunity to be involved with anything else.”
“Some bars are havens for products other than booze. Who made the most visits?”
“Her manager,” Aubrey said as she stared at her so intently, Wiley swore Aubrey could read whatever was written across her heart. “Her name’s Natalie Naquin, but she left after the storm. I remember Maria was pissed that she disappeared, but I didn’t pay much attention. I figured she was upset because she’d lost her mistress, not because of business.”
“You don’t sound too mad about it.”
Aubrey placed the lid on the pot closest to her and wiped her hands. “I’ll explain this to you as many times as I have to. Maria wasn’t you, no one has ever compared to you and, more importantly, how I feel about you. Betrayal only hurts when the act is committed by someone you’ve allowed inside so completely, you bleed from the disappointment.” Wiley stood as Aubrey stepped closer and placed her arms around her waist. “I never let anyone in that much—only you.”
“Do you consider what I did a betrayal?”
“That’s why I called you,” Aubrey said as she laid her head on her shoulder. “If I hadn’t at least tried to stem the bleeding, it could have killed off a big part of who I want to be.”
Aubrey clung to Wiley when she lowered her head and kissed her. “I’ve missed you.” Aubrey nodded but didn’t say anything. The elevator was getting closer, so she kissed Aubrey again and released her.
“Has Don changed much?” Aubrey asked.
“His hair’s longer, but his fuse is shorter. He lost the patience to deal with assholes well after he turned fifty, so I try not to mess with him too much. Why do you ask?”
“I trusted him to watch your back whenever you were away from me. I’ll tell you the rest later.”
“It smells good in here,” Don said as he dropped his bag. “A good change from the last time I was here and had to settle for takeout. Aubrey, how are you?” Don hugged Aubrey like they were old friends.
“Wiley’s keeping us safe, so I’m okay. Did you have a good trip?”
“It was smooth enough for me to read some stuff before I got here. Wiley, you want to review now or after we eat whatever’s on that stove?”
“It’ll take us a few hours to finish, so go ahead,” Aubrey said.
Danielle headed toward the bedrooms, Wiley assumed to get her father, so she led the way to her office. The envelope was sitting on her desk, and Tanith was still in the room playing a game.
“Is any of what you have classified?” Wiley asked.
“We can review the bland stuff first.”
“Hey, Tanith,” Wiley said when Tanith raised her head. “This is my friend Don Smith.” She finished the introductions and almost laughed at the size of Don’s smile.
“Do you want me to leave?” Tanith asked.
“Not if you don’t want to, but if we bore you too much, feel free to take off.” Tanith turned the game off and stayed on the chair by the windows. “What’d you find out?” Wiley asked Don.
“The agency has disavowed Walter, for now anyway. The to-do list he came to us with rattled too many cages in DC, and people started asking questions.” Don handed over the intel sheets Carl had received and shared with him. “I haven’t met with Walter’s supervisor, Craig Orvik, yet, but from what I hear, the Pentagon is coming down hard, and Orvik is trying his best to contain the situation. Cutting Walter loose and screwing him over was his first step.”
“Orvik didn’t give any clues as to why Walter was here?”
“None, and the more he’s questioned, the more adamant he gets that they’ll deal with Walter themselves.”
“What did you find?” Don asked, placing the closed folder back in his briefcase. Whatever else was in it wasn’t appropriate for Tanith, she guessed.
“I found the clue Roth gave me.” She told him about her meeting with Amber and showed him the picture of the boat with Walter and the Tajr member. “From what Roth wrote, Walter tried to cram this guy down his throat.”
“Let’s map it out,” Buckston said as he came in with Peter, both men shaking hands with Don.
“Tanith, could you drop those blinds for me, please?” Wiley said as she got a box of tape strips from her desk. The only thing this room had in common with the studio and the dragon’s lair was the wall of eraser board for situations like this.
From the notes she’d made from Amber’s envelope, Wiley started taping pictures on the board and writing names under them, much like she had with the copies she’d made. Whenever she could make a connection, she drew lines between the photos.
“Walter came to us about Roth,” she said, pointing to pictures of both men. “The crisis he dangled was this guy.” She pointed to the supposed terrorist. “I know I’m retired, but I don’t believe we’ve ever encouraged the courting of anyone set on destroying as much of the country as possible. From this picture,” she pointed to the boat, “I don’t think Walter was trying to infiltrate the Tajr.”
“Not with that face,” Peter said.
“If he was tight with Roth, I don’t know why Walter’s so anxious to get rid of him now,” Wiley said, more for her own benefit. “There’s something else weird.” She put up the grainy photo she was able to get of Amber and her friend before they left the bar. “This is the woman Roth told me about, but while we were making contact, someone was watching.”
“Who?” Don asked.
“The night I had to go to Aubrey’s, I followed a guy dressed like a cop from her house to the casino downtown. He was in a rush to meet with a guy named Mitch Surpass.” She hadn’t found fake cop yet, but Sheriff Culver of Brownsville had included Mitch’s picture with his e-mail. “It could be a coincidence, but I find it troubling that anything having to do with Roth can be tied back to whatever happened to Maria.” She drew a line from Amber to the square she’d drawn and written fake cop in.
“Wiley,” Tanith said as she slowly stood and walked to the board. “This lady worked for Maria and came to our house. I don’t remember her name, but it wasn’t Amber.”
“Are you sure?” Wiley asked, and Tanith nodded. “Do you recognize anyone else?”
“Just her,” Tanith said, and pointed to Amber’s picture.
“Could you go get your mom for me?”
Tanith took off toward the kitchen, leaving them all looking at the picture of the beautiful woman. “Could all the crap be related?” Peter asked. “If Maria wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the bitch.”
“Can I do something for you?” Aubrey asked, and judging from the glance at her father, she and Tanith had heard what he’d said.
“Tanith recognized someone, so maybe you could provide a name,” Wiley said.
“That’s Natalie Naquin. Remember, we were talking about her earlier. She was Maria’s manager.”
“Her name’s not Amber Willows?”
“Not unless that’s her stage name if she took up exotic dancing or something. She certainly had the face and body for it.” Aubrey stood with her hands on Tanith’s shoulders but never lost eye contact with her. “What’s she got to do with all this?”
“She was w
ho I met with today.” Since Wiley was no longer Roth Pombo’s problem, she explained in broad strokes why she went to Mexico. “Natalie is who Roth is pining for and trusted enough to give his stash of information.”
“This Roth Pombo guy is big into drugs?” Aubrey asked.
“He was, but he’s in Mexico’s version of supermax. If Maria was involved with these people, it might explain where she got that much money,” she said, and sighed. “It would also explain why and how she died.”
“Wiley, these people won’t ever stop coming after us,” Aubrey said, and from her expression she was sorry for blurting that out in front of Tanith.
“The more we know, the better off we are.” Wiley couldn’t stand to see Aubrey in so much pain so she opened her arms, and Aubrey and Tanith came forward. The men dropped their eyes, but Wiley noticed all three were smiling. “Think of it this way. I’m not shooting in the dark anymore.” That might’ve been an old saying for anyone else, but she hoped Aubrey knew what she meant.
“Where do we start?” Buckston asked.
“With Mitch Surpass. His partner was outside Aubrey’s and waiting for whoever was with Natalie at the park. Since he saw us together at the bar where I met Natalie, fake cop knows she’s here. If Roth trusted her this much, it might take the heat off you and Tanith. It makes sense to me that she’d have the money since she was holding all this stuff.” She pointed to the board.
“Do you have a clue how to find this guy?” Don asked.
“No, but I have a clue where to start.”
“Are you going to clue us in?” her father asked.
“Don and I are going to the Hilton and take a look around. Fake cop and Mitch had a room there the night Maria died. They’re probably gone, but it’s a start if I don’t find out anything.”
“You sure you want to go out alone?” Buckston asked.
“Don was my spotter for years, and I’d feel better if you and Peter stay here in case something else comes up.”
“I’m going to check in,” Don said. “Is two hours good?”
